(All kinds of formatting issues. Hope this is an easy read. Review if you get a chance ...means a lot to me!)

Jennifer used the walk to the medbay to clear her head. She need to relieve Carson, avoid Abatello, stay clear of the gate, and talk to Ronan. Some honeymoon. She thanked her escort and told them to grab a bite to eat while Jen went inside.

When she arrived Carson was in charts up to his eyes, and there were more patients than she expected. When she saw Corporal Matthews she was initially worried. When she saw Corporal Meyers, concern changed to suspicion.

Approaching Meyers' bed she picked up his chart and pretended not to notice him shutting his eyes. She reviewed the very sparsely annotated chart quickly, and surveyed the patient under the covers. He was in uniform; still in combat boots. Jennifer made her hand into a fist and knocked on the steel toe of the boot through the sheet.

"I know you're faking. Next time take your boots off."

Meyers said nothing.

"OK. Have it your way," she said, unceremoniously dropping the chart back in its holder. Then she whispered, "if we get any actual patients I expect you guys to get out of my way."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sheepishly without opening his eyes.

"And thank you," she added. It made her feel better to know so many had her back.

As she turned Carson was on his way to her with some urgency.

"Jennifer, we need to talk."

"Of course, but not here," she said, loudly adding "there are not-really-sick people pretending to be asleep here. I would hate to disturb them."

She could hear the muffled groans from the fake patients as she gestured towards her office. She pointed at the food poisoning victims in the patient care area.

"John or Evan?"

"I think John sent Evan. A combination maybe."

Carson had an air of formality to him that was unusual. It's what he sounds like when he briefs his findings, Jennifer thought to herself. He hadn't asked how she was, or made any comments about her sneaking out of the medbay the night before. He had charts and printouts, and pulled a chair around to be on the same side of Jennifer's desk.

"You know all expedition candidates are screened for the ATA gene, and we administer the synthetic version to some who don't have it to increase the percentage of ATA positive population."

"Yes, I do know all of that."

"You are not ATA positive. And you rejected the synthetic."

"Yeah. Quickly, too- like thirty four hours to reject it outright." It actually made Jen sick as a dog. Fever, chills. She was glad she rejected it so quickly. But none of that helped her understand where Carson was going with all of this.

"Right. And they do a complete genetic analysis after rejection to try to analyze rejection patterns. Have you seen yours?"

"No. I didn't have anyone to compare it to so I never bothered. Should I take a look at it?" Jennifer was becoming more and more concerned as Carson build his case.

"Strangely enough it isn't in your file. It appears to be missing."

"Paperwork disappears all the time. Why were you looking for it?" She wanted to know what set him down this path.

"The Hexadrime in your room. The concentration levels were high - significantly higher than your tolerance. It should have killed you, Jennifer, and it didn't. And I wanted to know why."

Jennifer reached for the paperwork in Carson's hand. She was a sucker for a medical mystery, and this one was about her. He handed it over and continued to speak. Jennifer got the impression that he'd spent a fair amount of time reviewing it already himself.

"I ran a level 7 bio analysis on your blood from last night when the allergic reaction was at its worst. Here are the results."

Jennifer was already flipping through the file.

"When you returned to active duty we took a blood sample. Standard procedure. This morning I ran a level 7 bio analysis on that sample as well."

He flipped the chart open to the pertinent information and handed that over as well.

Jennifer was known in the medical community as a world class diagnostician. She always had a gift for finding things that weren't obvious to other people. It was only a matter of seconds before her finger came down on a specific point on the page.

"Here. That is an alien genetic marker. In both results."

"Indeed," Carson said, allowing the implication to sink in.

Jen unfolded the report and looked at the name on the front again. "This is my blood work?"

"Yes, lass. It is."

Jennifer looked up at him. The science made sense to her immediately. The genetic marker was in her blood, and it wasn't new.

"If you found this in a level 7 scan - which you aren't supposed to run without SGC authorization - then they found it before I ever came to Atlantis. This is an alien gene. I have an alien gene and no one ever thought to mention it to me?"

The science she understood. It was people who confounded her.

"We don't know who knew."

"Look at this. The cellular activity around the gene is off the charts now and there was nothing before- like the gene was dormant then and is active now."

"And I think that increased cell activity is enhancing your recuperative response."

"But what does it do?"

"I have no idea."

"Oh my god." Jennifer filled with I a sense of dread. "I know what it does. I need to find Ronan."

She looked to Carson, about to beg his patience to leave him in the medbay just a little longer, but he was already waving her off.

"You go. I am fine here."

Jennifer was up and headed to the door of her office when suddenly Abatello appeared in the doorway.

"Get out of my way, Major," she said sternly.

"We need to get you off Atlantis. You aren't safe here. It's my job to keep you safe."

"Major, back up and move out of my way."

His eyes darted around the room quickly, coming to rest on a small case with three short stemmed blue flowers. Jennifer hadn't even noticed them; she had been too busy with pretend patients and Carson's research.

"Dr. Keller, those flowers may be dangerous. There is no telling what the IOA plan is. We need to get you off Atlantis until they are gone."

"The flowers are flowers. You are out of line. And I need you to get out of my way."

"My job is to keep you safe." He reached for the vase, but Jennifer grabbed it first.

"Rabbit, put them down."

Jennifer just looked at him.

"Rabbit! Put them down!" Jennifer detected true panic in his voice. His breathing was becoming irregular.

She lifted the vase to her face, taking in a deep breath.

"They smell beautiful, and I'm not your rabbit anymore."

She was unprepared for his action when he moved to her. He grabbed the vase of flowers, throwing it into the corner of the room, the glass shattering on the floor. The sound of glass breaking caught the attention of the food poisoning victims and they sat up trying to understand the disruption. By the time they were out of out from the covers, Abatello had grabbed Jennifer's mission bag with one hand and Jen with the other, and was moving her with speed to the door.

When he reached the exit he pushed her through with too much force: she stumbled and hit her head on the wall. As the marines closed on Tello he forcefully kicked the emergency panel in the wall, slammed the quarantine button and disappeared, watching the room lock down with Carson and the marines trapped behind him.

(Meanwhile . . . . .)

John locked the cuffs on 'Avamin' and secured them through the confinement loops on the chair. He wasn't going anywhere for a while. He had a smirk on his face that annoyed John from the second they approached him. Like he was waiting to be caught.

"You seem very tense today, Colonel."

"Assassins wandering the halls of our city irritate us. Imagine that. What is your name?"

"I don't have a name."

"That must get very confusing at parties," John observed. "Where is the real Avamin?"

"A casualty in the pursuit of justice," he said without remorse.

"What kind of justice involves murdering a scientist and assassinating the CMO of Atlantis."

"She had to pay. She killed Jarrick."

"Jarrick was a monster," Ronan growled.

"Jarrick was a genius. He offered her a whole new life and purpose. She was foolish to fight him. And now she's dead."

Ronan and John looked at each other, keying immediately on the man's implication. The look wasn't at all disguised, and the prisoner picked up on it.

"You didn't know? She is probably taking her last breath right now."

He looked directly into Ronan's eyes.

"And I take great pleasure in knowing that my last act is telling you that you couldn't save that little bitch!" He snapped his teeth together, biting down with force as Ronan came across the table and grabbed him. He laughed at Ronan as the first convulsion hit. Then another, and another. Ronan let go in surprise, but John knew immediately what had happened.

"NO. No. No," John repeated as he grabbed the assassin and tried to pry his mouth open, but it was too late. The poison he ingested had already done its work. His eyes rolled back into his head and the convulsions stopped. John feverishly undid the cuffs to lay him out, but he was dead before his head hit the floor.

Without a word Ronan spun and headed for the door, John only a step behind, they had just reached the halway when they heard the alarm for a medical emergency and the computer voice telling them that quarantine procedures has been initiated in the medbay.