Chapter 21: Personal Coup

They had sent a team back to M4R-322 straight after the incident with the underground chamber but bizarrely there had been no sign of that energy signal both Lorne and Reed had picked up – the one that had led them to finding Prue and Kara and the site of more 'prophesy columns'. It was strange enough that another team was scheduled to go there the morning after movie night to take another look. The team went early in the day and returned a few hours later with the same conclusions - it was like that energy reading had never existed in the first place. Lorne couldn't explain it – comparing notes with Dan when the team met for dinner, they both agreed there had been an energy source somewhere near the ruins. They just couldn't prove it.

"Maybe we drained it somehow Sir?" Reed suggested.

"Maybe," Evan agreed. "It seems a little coincidental it would drain down to zero all by itself, but it has been a couple of weeks since the first team went back there so I guess it's possible." His tone made it clear he thought it improbable.

Lorne was expecting Prue wouldn't be impressed when she found out another team had gone to three two two, because she'd wanted to be the one investigating the potential discovery. Lorne was pretty sure it was only the fact that she wanted him to keep turning up for gene practice that had gotten him off the hook when the first team had gone back there. Of course, then he'd made the mistake of kissing her again ... things hadn't improved since then ... in fact she'd cancelled their usual morning meeting and he hadn't seen her all day.

"Don't go there," he told himself, impatient with how often his thoughts had returned to Prue since the previous night. "We'll have research teams going out there on a regular basis now to catalogue those columns," he told Reed, something he planned to discuss with Prue - while she hadn't been the best person to look for Ancient energy readings, she was the best they had for deciphering those columns. "If it's an intermittent thing then we might get lucky and have someone else detect it too."

"I bet Doctor McKay was disappointed," Nate commented with a faint smirk.

"Another possible ZeePM disappearing into myth," Lorne returned, amused. "Understandable. One is never going to be enough for McKay."

Nate's eyes shifted to look over Evan's shoulder but he hadn't needed that to know that someone – no, not someone, Prue – was standing behind him.

"Major," her voice was uncertain.

"Doctor," he returned, shifting so that he could look at her properly.

"I ah ... have you got a minute?" she glanced at his team mates and then refocussed on him. "Privately?"

"Sure, of course," Lorne stood, waiting for her to pick somewhere she'd consider private in the busy Mess Hall.

Prue glanced around, frowning. "Not here," she muttered, leading him from the room and then stopping in the corridor outside. "I ah ... I wanted to apologise."

"For what?" Lorne asked.

"For what happened last night," Prue said, keeping it vague.

"As I recall, I kissed you Doc," Lorne reminded her, perversely enjoying the blush that rose on her cheeks at his blunt statement.

"I know but I made too much of it," Prue persisted. She looked up at him almost shyly. "I'd ... I really want to be friends Major."

"Then we'll be friends," Evan said simply.

"Really?" Prue blinked, clearly surprised at his easy agreement.

"Really," Lorne confirmed. "Listen, dinner's not over. Why don't you join us right now?"

"I – okay," Prue smiled. "Thank you Major."

"No problem Doc," Lorne put a hand to her back instinctively, and just as quickly moved it away when the resulting zing reminded him that, while they might be going down the friendship road, as far as his 'instincts' were concerned there was a lot more there.

Nate's brow rose when Prue returned with Evan, taking a seat next to the Major. When Nate caught his CO's eye, Evan shook his head subtly, the message clear ... 'nothing to write home about here buddy.'

That was the beginning of the most frustrating period in Lorne's personal life to date. He'd agreed to be friends – what other choice did he have? – but he couldn't get Prue out of his head. She'd begun creeping under his skin from the day they'd met and although he should have avoided her as much as possible, Evan couldn't stop himself from making their friendship real, from taking any chance to be with her.

Gene practice most mornings, more sunrises, meals with his team ... over the space of the next few weeks they did all that, settling into a regular routine that quickly became Evan's definition of a normal day. They were seen around the city together enough that Lorne was sure the gossips were talking up a storm, betting on when their obvious friendship would become more. Since it was part and parcel of living in what was a small community, Evan ignored it, a part of him amused that Prue didn't have to ignore it because she was completely oblivious to all of it.

She captivated him – it was a struggle not to show her how much sometimes.

They talked about all manner of things, argued too sometimes if their points of view clashed, and just as quickly agreed to disagree. They spent time together for no particular reason. Evan was seeing a side to Prue he'd known was there but never experienced firsthand – a side that had him learning more about her, that had him realising it would never be enough to satisfy the urge to know her completely.

After so much time together he no longer needed to touch her to be reminded that he was attracted to her as much as any man had ever been attracted to a woman. That zing of connection when he touched Prue was the least of his problems because now he just had to be within touching distance and he felt it – like hovering electricity that only waited for him to touch metal before it punished him with an electric shock.

At first it was all kind of enervating, but as the weeks passed and he realised all the non-friendship feelings he had weren't going to just disappear, the frustration started to kick in. He couldn't tell Prue he wanted to go back to their strictly professional relationship, especially not now that he and his team had become such an integral part of her life ... it wasn't in him to be cruel and doing so wouldn't fix his problem anyway. He had a sinking suspicion nothing short of one of them leaving the city was going to fix it, although part of him wondered whether even that would do the trick.

And the frustration continued to build.

"I see from Doctor Darnell's weekly report that you've been helping her conduct some research into the ATA gene," Doctor Weir commented. She and Lorne were having one of their regular meetings to review new staff placement ahead of the Daedalus's next trip, and had just concluded the standard portion of that.

"Yes Ma'am," Evan said easily. "I've been meaning to mention for a while that I was following up on your suggestion." When Elizabeth looked momentarily puzzled, he clarified. "That practice might improve use of the gene Ma'am. I stumbled across some information in the Ancient database that kind of suggested you might be right."

"Oh, of course," Weir smiled. "And do you have any conclusions Major?"

"It's a little hard to say Ma'am," Lorne admitted. "Doctor Darnell probably explains it better, but as I understand it, to measure progress scientifically you need an accurate baseline."

"And measuring anyone's base expertise with the gene has always been difficult," Weir concluded.

"Exactly," Lorne shrugged. "I can tell you that some things seem a little easier, but I can't tell you if that's because I've been actively trying to use the gene more or because I'm just doing things I wouldn't have thought do do prior to helping with Prue's research."

"We need a way to determine what an individual can do with the gene," Elizabeth commented.

"Do we Ma'am?" Lorne countered.

Elizabeth looked at him, surprised. Lorne wasn't a pushover but no one would describe him as outspoken either.

"I'm not trying to play devil's advocate here," Evan explained earnestly. "It just seems to me that a large part of the gene is the way the person thinks. If we try to set in concrete with some kind of test what we think a person can acheive then it doesn't allow for circumstances bringing out unusual performance." He met her eyes, his expression serious. "I've seen it in battle Ma'am ... soldiers finding strength beyond what anyone would have expected, carrying a wounded comrade for miles, surviving injuries no one should survive ..."

"So you're saying that if we rank the strength of anyone's gene, it will in turn determine what they can do," Weir summarised thoughtfully.

"In some cases, yes," Lorne agreed. "Take the command chair for example. Doctor Beckett can activate it but he's uncomfortable with the fact that he can blow a hole in the city with a stray thought."

Elizabeth smiled fondly. "Yes, Carson has always exhibited reluctance to make use of his gene for anything beyond medical applications."

"He's strong ... he just doesn't want to be," Evan commented.

"You're right Major," Weir agreed. "We'll hold off on assigning resources to measuring gene strength. For now we'll continue to use the chair merely to identify anyone with latent natural ability."

"I'll continue to assist Doctor Darnell as well," Lorne said briskly. "I'll update you personally if we discover anything that goes against what we already know."

"Thank you Major," Elizabeth said, closing off their meeting.

"Hey Piper, Rob," Lorne smiled at the camera a week or so later, imagining Piper and her husband sitting in their home watching him. "I trust everything's going okay with you. And Shannon – I bet she's grown so much I wouldn't recognise her." His smile dropped at that but he pushed on – his own personal rule not to scrap and start again any time he sat down to record a message for back home. If he was going to censor himself there was no point in recording anything.

"So, anyway, I'm okay – I know you like me to get that out of the way up front, give you a reprieve from all that worrying you've probably been doing," he grinned again, knowing Piper would be giving him grief over being cavalier about his health and safety if they'd been talking in person. "We've had our fair share of ... situations ... but no permanent damage done. It's been quiet for a few weeks actually. Prue thinks -," he stopped abruptly. Sure, he'd mentioned Prue in passing shortly after meeting her, something about finally finding someone as good as Piper at putting him in his place – only nowhere near as nice. There'd been nothing to raise the flags with Piper in his manner then because he'd genuinely thought little more of Prue than what he'd said.

At that stage Prue had annoyed him more than anything else. Now though, now he'd had his lips on Prue's, now he'd had her body plastered against his and contemplated doing a hell of lot more than just kissing her ... mentioning her had been a mistake because Piper would know there was more to it.

"Damn," he muttered, looking back to the camera. "I could just delete this and start again but ... hell Piper - maybe you can give me some perspective, because I've completely lost mine."

He chuckled harshly, directing an intent glance to his long distance audience. "There's something there Piper – with Prue ... but I'm stuck in the 'just friends' zone. She told me outright that she doesn't want to get involved with anyone right now. I can respect that – I'm not convinced enough that pursing her wouldn't be a major mistake to try to change her mind, and there are rules that maybe apply as well – I haven't checked that out either." He smiled self deprecatingly. "It's not the first time I've asked – in a manner of speaking – and gotten knocked back. But here's the thing," he looked down at the floor for a moment before pressing on. "Getting anywhere near her is like being plugged into an energy source – I don't know how else to describe it. I can't avoid her Piper – because of the job and because of this insane friendship we've got going. I can pretend I'm not affected, but if this goes on indefinitely it's gonna drive me insane. So you know, if you have any advice on how the hell I'm supposed to handle this, I'm all ears."

Growling in frustration, Lorne leaned forward and hit the mouse button with unnecessary force, stopping the recording. When the message came up asking him if he wanted to save he hesitated for a moment and then clicked on No, slamming his laptop shut and just barely restraining himself from throwing the mouse against the nearest wall. Not only was Prue keeping him awake at night, now she had him breaking his own rules too.

He needed a break. His team had an off world mission the following day – one of the regularly scheduled trips they'd set up to help the communities they'd tried to forge ties with. Usually they stayed overnight – it was only a brief reprieve from having to deal with Prudence Darnell, but he'd take it.

Ducking behind the counter just before a spray of bullets hit the wall behind him, Lorne tapped his radio. "Stay at the Gate and wait for our backup," he ordered Doctor Lindsay grimly. Leaning out, he sent a burst of P-90 fire out the window to where their attackers were holding position. Whoever they were they'd caught Evan and his team by surprise, pinning them down inside the house before they'd even had a chance to get an accurate count on numbers. The only good news was that Doctor Lindsay had been downstairs when the first shots were fired and, on Lorne's orders, had managed to get away without being seen. She'd already radioed Atlantis and reported back to Evan that Colonel Sheppard's team was on the way. All they had to do was hold out until help arrived.

"We have you surrounded Major Lorne," a male voice called out. "It is only a matter of time before you run out of ammunition. Surrender now and I can make your captivity a more pleasing experience."

Lorne exchanged glances with Coughlin. "They know us ... that narrows down the field considerably."

"Genii," Nate suggested.

"That'd be my guess too," Evan agreed. "Unless we've made other enemies who've previously had access to our personnel records?"

"No, they'd be the only ones with enough knowledge to name names Sir," Coughlin replied. "And now they know Atlantis wasn't destroyed."

"We haven't exactly stayed at home since then," Lorne pointed out, "and enough people recognise us as coming from Atlantis to make that an impossible secret to keep in the long term." The mission where they'd met Teneo and his granddaughter was a case in point – there'd been no chance to decide one way or another to keep Atlantis a secret from them because Kara had recognised their origins immediately, making the decision for them.

"What are we going to do Sir?" Reed asked, looking ready to rush their attackers and attempt to shoot his way out of trouble.

"Conserve ammo until Colonel Sheppard gets here," Lorne returned. "How many clips you got left?"

Reed didn't have to check before answering. "One, Sir."

"Me too," Coughlin added.

"I've got two but ...," he grimaced, glancing back towards the windows.

"It's not gonna be enough," Nate finished.

"Time is running out Major Lorne," the guy who appeared to be in charge of their current predicament yelled. A hail of bullets hit the front of the building, sending stone chips flying.

In response, almost as one the three men returned fire, concentrating on where the bullets had come from.

Regrouping as the dust settled, Lorne frowned. "This isn't random," he muttered. "They want us for some reason. "

"You are quite correct Major." The complacent announcement was accompanied by the cocking of a rifle above their heads, sounding very loud in the sudden silence.

Lorne looked up to the balcony on the second floor, doing an instant head count. Four guys, all armed, all with the high ground, and all ready to shoot at the first sign of resistance.

They were screwed.

"Say nothing," Evan ordered Coughlin and Reed grimly before slowly getting to his feet, holding his P-90 out in one hand in a non threatening manner.

"Major Lorne I presume?" another man stepped forward into the light.

"That's right," Evan agreed. "And you are?"

"Ladon Radim," the man said, throwing a canister down to them.

Acrid smoke rose from the floor to surround them – Lorne tried to hold out as long as possible but eventually he had to breathe. In seconds the gas had overwhelmed him and he slumped back to the floor, unconscious.

Lorne came to with a groan. Wincing at the pounding in his head, he opened his eyes and slowly sat up. The floor seemed to spin under him and he was suddenly glad the attack had come before they'd eaten dinner. "God," he muttered, squeezing his forehead as he looked around, swallowing down the nausea.

They were in a holding cell – large, lots of metal mesh that looked too tough for any of the tools he'd usually have on him. Glancing down at himself his confusion deepened. Instead of his own uniform Evan had been dressed in the Pegasus version of civvies. Patting a hand to his chest and not finding the usual impression of his dog tags sticking out, Lorne had a sick inkling of why that was.

There wasn't a lot of light in the cell, or in the larger space it was contained in. Lorne squinted at the shapes scattered around him. The relief was instantaneous when he saw Reed and Coughlin lying on the floor a few steps away – both similarly dressed in unfamiliar attire. Thankfully he'd left Jimmy back in the city, Doctor Lindsay taking the fourth place on the team. One less person he had to worry about.

Apart from his team there were another six guys in the cell, all stretched out on the floor unconscious – all members of Atlantis teams, all currently engaged in off world missions, as far as Atlantis was aware. Getting to his feet, Lorne swayed unsteadily – whatever the hell that gas had been it packed quite a punch. Steeling himself he moved to Coughlin first, checking for and finding a strong pulse. Giving his 2IC a sharp shake he was rewarded with a groan and enough movement to be sure that Nate would be awake soon. Moving to Reed next, Lorne did the same thing. When his men were fully awake they moved to sit on benches stretched out along one side of the cell.

"They took our gear and clothes," Nate commented in an undertone.

"I'm guessing whatever they want us for, part of it's about either convincing our people they've got us or placing us somewhere other than here."

"Someone's out there wearing our stuff, pretending to be us?" Reed looked insulted by that.

"That would be the logical conclusion," Lorne agreed.

"Does that mean what I think it means Sir?" Dan asked, dismayed.

"Yeah it does," Evan sighed. "Any smart kidnapper is gonna move his subjects somewhere else. When Colonel Sheppard works out that whoever's wearing our gear isn't us, they still won't know where to look. For the time being we're on our own."

"Well that sucks," Nate muttered.

The time passed slowly.

Lorne got updates from the other Atlantis teams, also caught unawares on previously friendly planets. They hadn't worked out why this Ladon Radim wanted them yet ... for that Evan really needed to talk to the man again himself.

He got that chance sooner than he'd hoped. When two guards came to the cell and pulled him roughly to his feet, Lorne shook his head at his men. They needed information, not useless and probably lethal heroics. Letting himself be dragged away with little resistance, Evan was taken to another room, this one smaller and without the jail cell. Instead there was a lab set up that looked like something out of Lorne's early science classes. At the central table sat the man Evan wanted to talk to.

"Sit down Major," Ladon said briskly.

"Why?" Lorne questioned with casual interest rather than arrogant distain.

"Because if you don't I'll return you to your cell and choose one of your men instead," Ladon replied with an amused smirk.

"Good reason," Evan took the offered seat, glancing around curiously. "You make all this yourself or buy it cheap at some geek's garage sale?"

"Raise your sleeve," Ladon ignored Lorne's taunts, preparing his tools with calm efficiency.

Evan hesitated for a moment, eyes moving to the two guards standing either side of the doorway before tracking back to where Radim waited patiently, a syringe in hand.

Silently, Lorne unbuttoned the unfamiliar shirt sleeve, folding it up with brisk purposefulness. Once his arm was bare to just above his elbow, Evan lowered in to the table in front of his host.

Ladon looked at him for a moment, wondering at the unflinching cooperation he was getting from Atlantis's military second in command.

"You looking to push us out of the city again?" Evan asked conversationally, giving no outward sign of pain when Radim inserted the needle and drew out a sample of Lorne's blood.

"I'm a scientist," Ladon said, focussed on the samples. "Just because I made the weapons doesn't mean I agree with how they were used."

"And yet here you are, taking without asking again," Evan shook his head. "I guess your mother never told you that you win more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"Do you and Colonel Sheppard set out deliberately to be obtuse?" Ladon looked annoyed now.

Lorne was satisfied that he getting to Radim, not to mention amused at being compared to his CO. "Nothing in it for me to be the honey," he said, watching as the other man prepared a Petri dish with a drop of his blood before adding another solution and watching the mix carefully. "You looking for something in particular?" Lorne queried, keeping it to casual interest.

"I think you know very well what I'm looking for Major," Ladon returned impatiently. "The Ancient gene."

"Oh – that," Evan nodded. "What makes you think I have it?"

"The information we took from your database was quite extensive," Ladon smiled with a touch of arrogant pride. "We have a full list of everyone possessing the gene, either naturally like yourself, or artificially through Doctor Beckett's treatment. Your mistake was in thinking your people are the only ones capable of scientific advances."

"You're trying to manufacture your own version of the artificial Ancient gene," Lorne concluded, his expression turning abruptly serious. The last thing the Pegasus galaxy needed was for the Genii to be running around activating anything Ancient they could get their hands on. What what he'd read, discretion was a word that hadn't made it into the Genii dictionary. "To what purpose?"

"Taking away your advantage is purpose enough Major," Ladon returned, "but as it happens I have another reason for levelling the playing field. Your people have tools that would help my people greatly."

"The Puddle Jumpers and drones," Lorne laughed harshly. "You do realise you need more than the right gene to be able to fly something."

"Your people don't seem to have any trouble Major," Radim pointed out calmly.

"That's because we already have flight capability!" Lorne shook his head. "But hey, don't let me put a spanner in your works. It might cost us a Jumper but it'd be worth it to see you parking one nose down in the dirt."

"Nice try Major," Ladon seemed amused rather than insulted by Lorne's conclusions about Genii capability. Looking back to his experiment he grimaced.

"Results not to your liking?" Lorne queried with a deliberate smirk.

Rather than respond, Ladon cast a glance at his guards, nodding silently to where Evan sat. As one the two moved forward, dragging Lorne up.

It wasn't much of an opportunity but Lorne decided to take his chances anyway. Spinning, he took the two with him in a wide arc that had one slamming against the wall and then sliding to the floor unconscious. The other stumbled into Radim's table. Beakers shattered on the stone floor and equipment rattled. Reversing direction Evan shook the last guard loose, burying his fist in the man's gut before following up with a blow to the back of his head.

The click of a gun being cocked stopped him in his tracks.

"A foolish mistake Major," Ladon said calmly, weapon pointed at Lorne's head.

"Maybe," Lorne agreed, equally calmly. "You gonna shoot me now?"

"Eventually, yes," Radim seemed quite comfortable with planning Evan's death – clearly he wasn't the average geeky scientist. "When I've perfected my gene treatment and no longer require a direct source." Picking up a small walkie talkie like device he radioed for someone to come and escort Lorne back to his cell, keeping his weapon trained on Evan the whole time.

"Atlantis will send someone for us," Lorne said with certainty.

"I'm counting on it Major," Ladon replied smugly.

Eyes narrowed, Lorne looked at the Genii scientist assessingly. He wasn't sure what the man's plan was, but for certain it wasn't just about acquiring lab rats to fuel his gene research. Evan wanted to question Ladon further but the requested soldiers arrived and without another word being said Lorne was escorted back to the cell. One of them slammed the butt of his rifle into Evan's stomach before they threw him coughing and wheezing into the cell.

"Sir," Coughlin dropped down beside his CO, watching concerned as Lorne struggled to get his breath back.

"That hurt ... just a little," Evan quipped when he could finally speak again. Putting a hand to his stomach he winced, sitting up with a groan. The guards had retreated so Lorne quickly filled his men in on what he'd learned. Once done he looked at Coughlin intently. "Maybe he knows you don't have the gene Sergeant, and maybe he doesn't. Until we find out the real plan here you stay in the background. I don't want to give Radim the chance to decide you're surplus to his requirements."

"But -," Nate began to protest.

"Not this time Nate," Evan interrupted. "You'll follow my orders without embellishment. The next time the guards come to take one of us to Radim you'll make yourself as scarce as possible. Understood?"

"Yes Sir," Coughlin replied reluctantly.

"Don't worry Sergeant," Lorne slapped a hand to the other man's shoulder. "Once Colonel Sheppard gets here I'm sure there'll be plenty of chances for you to get your own back."

"You really think so Sir?" Nate asked with exaggerated hopefulness, earning a laugh from everyone.

They spent the night in that cell, nine men sleeping on a cold stone floor, hungry and thirsty after minimal rations since their capture. Lorne circled around the possible reasons for their capture, not so much sleeping as dozing lightly. It all came back to the gene and how the Genii could use the fact that they'd captured men from Atlantis who had it. Was it really plausible that a civilisation with knowledge only to the level of a Rodney McKay high school science project could conceivably recreate something it had taken Carson Beckett, a fully qualified geneticist, months to perfect?

When morning came he was convinced the answer should be 'No', which left a number of possibilities for why Ladon was going through the motions of pretending he could equal Carson's work. For whose benefit? Commander Cowan? Someone on the Genii home world they'd never met? Without knowing why, coming up with a plan to convince Radim to let them go would be tricky. But as the ranking officer it was up to Lorne to find a way to get all his men out – without relying on Atlantis finding them first.

As the sunlight touched the tops of the high windows he sighed, wondering what Prue was doing back on Atlantis. He was missing a scheduled practice session. She'd probably worry when he didn't show up – unless someone had already told her his team was missing. That would worry her too ... despite telling him she couldn't care about him, Evan was pretty sure she did, as much as she allowed herself to anyway.

"So, what's the plan Sir?" Coughlin moved to greet his CO.

"No idea Sergeant," Evan replied. "I'm still at the formulating stage. When I move beyond that you'll be the first to know."

"Yes Sir," Nate smirked, directing his gaze to where the guards stood outside the walls of their cage. "You think Atlantis knows we're here?"

"They know we're somewhere," Lorne watched as two new guards greeted the old ones, changing shifts. "I don't think we can count on them finding us before Radim decides we've outlived our usefulness."

"Which would be?" Coughlin asked.

"At this point your guess is as good as mine," Evan shot his second a quick look. "This isn't what it seems Sergeant," he said with certainty. "Remember to stay back when they come for one of us. The blood tests for the gene are a smoke screen for something, but I'm not willing to assume they won't take the act all the way to killing anyone who turns up without it."

"Yes Sir," Coughlin nodded. "I wonder what they're doing back on Atlantis?" he said in a low tone.

"Hopefully planning an impressive rescue mission," Lorne suggested, the two men smiling at the thought.

"So, you really thought we were dead Sir?" Lorne asked. Sheppard had arrived a hour before, not exactly in a Puddle Jumper with drones blazing, but his appearance alone was good enough. Even though the Colonel was now sharing their cell, knowing Atlantis had found them lifted everyone's spirits.

"I lifted your dog tags off a burned to a crisp body myself Lorne, so yeah, we thought you were dead," John retorted.

"Sorry Sir," Evan returned, shooting his CO a look before returning his gaze to what was going on outside their cell. "Did ah ... was that common knowledge?"

"We hadn't planned your memorial service or anything but you know the Atlantis grapevine Major," Sheppard said. "News gets around."

"Right, of course," Lorne nodded, frowning. That meant -.

"I told her myself Evan," Sheppard offered casually.

"Told who Sir?" Evan hoped like hell he hadn't been that obvious about his feelings for Prue, but those hopes were dashed when John replied.

"Doctor Darnell," the accompanying look he gave Lorne shouting 'pul-lease, like you didn't know who I was talking about!'

"How'd she take it?"

"How do you think?" Sheppard asked incredulously. "I don't get all nervous and giddy when you're around Major and I was angry as hell and ready to ram my fist down the throat of anyone who looked like they'd had a hand in your demise." He shot Lorne a curious look before continuing. "She was understandably upset and pretty adamant I had it wrong. In fact she told me there was no way you could possibly be dead and then stalked away. You're gonna have to talk to her when we get back."

"You're not warning me off of getting romantically involved with one of the staff Sir?" Lorne asked, genuinely surprised.

"Are you romantically involved with Doctor Darnell, Major?" John queried.

"Ah ... not exactly," Lorne said, adding with a burst of honesty, "but I want to be. Is that a problem Sir?"

"Not for me," Sheppard grinned suddenly. "You might want to rethink your strategy though – Doctor Darnell doesn't strike me as the cooperative type."

Lorne laughed. "No, cooperative isn't the word I'd choose either."

"Look Evan ... the regs don't apply. She's a civilian contractor appointed with I.O.A approval – you can't influence her career," Sheppard looked at Lorne intently. "You could be accused of favouritism though so we'll play it safe. Tell her to send any requests she'd normally make to you directly to me from now on."

"Not that I don't appreciate the support Sir, but it's a little premature," Evan admitted. It pained him to have to explain but given his CO's willingness to help, he really had no other choice. "Ah ... she turned me down Sir – flat out refused to consider any kind of relationship. I don't see her changing her mind."

"Then look again," John ran a hand through his hair, adding additional spiky messiness to what was already there. "I'm not telling you what to do Evan ... and for God's sake don't start talking relationships in the office or I'll have to demote you out of earshot. Just ... if you decide on not taking no for an answer, it won't be a court marshal-able offence, okay?"

"Thank you Sir," Lorne kept a straight face, actually kind of touched that Colonel Sheppard had put aside a natural reticence to talk about personal stuff to reassure him. He'd never been friends with a commanding officer before ... that he'd managed to form a friendship with John Sheppard was just another one of the unique bonuses of being posted on Atlantis.

Walking through the gate back onto Atlantis Lorne felt the 'welcome home' rush of static – it had only been a couple of days but clearly that was enough for the systems to notice his absence and rejoice in his return. When Ladon Radim's true plan had been revealed Evan couldn't help but be a little impressed, even though he and his men had been unwitting pawns in a complex political game. Ladon had overthrown a guy everyone on Atlantis would cheer to see the back of, taken over as ruler of the Genii, and forged the basis for a new alliance with Atlantis, all with very little bloodshed. It was clever and troubling – Ladon Radim was a man they'd have to keep an eye on in the future.

Evan felt her eyes on him the instance he finished greeting a relieved Doctor Weir. Turning, blue eyes met brown, Lorne freezing as he registered a host of impressions from Prue. She looked pale, nervous, troubled. In fact she looked a lot more upset than he'd ever seen her and his return obviously wasn't helping.

He smiled then, at her – for her – but instead of giving him a smile in return, Prue took a shuddering breath, pressing her trembling lips together. And then she turned and ran – there was no other word for it – she didn't just hurry off, she broke into an almost sprint as soon as she cleared the Gateroom floor. Evan was so surprised at her reaction that she'd disappeared down the corridor before he thought to follow her.

"Major?" Colonel Sheppard moved to stand beside Lorne, Ladon Radim at his side.

"Sir," Evan kept his eyes on the spot where Prue had disappeared before turning to his CO. He wanted to talk to Sheppard, wanted to find out what exactly Radim had been doing with the blood samples he'd taken from Evan. An assurance that their new treaty included destroying those samples wouldn't go astray either. But he wanted to talk to Prue more. "If you'll excuse me Sir, ..." he trailed off, barely waiting for John's nod before he took off down that same corridor.

She should have been hard to locate – Atlantis was a big place – but somehow Lorne knew where to look, finding Prue sitting on the edge of the dock at the end of the south west pier. They'd walked there a few times when the weather was nice and Prue had commented that she found it calming.

She was watching the waves below and didn't acknowledge him when he sat down beside her.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked dismissively, still refusing to look directly at him. "I'm not the one who was brought back to the city in a body bag."

"Neither am I," Lorne reminded her.

"As far as I knew you were," Prue's voice trembled a little on that last word.

"Prue," he waited but she kept her face turned away. "Prue," he said again, shifting to cup her cheek as he gently raised her eyes to his. The brown depths were swimming in tears and she looked miserable. "I'm okay," Evan said firmly.

"I know," she whispered. "I just ... Colonel Sheppard told me you ... I was sure you couldn't be gone but at the same time part of me really thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry," Lorne leaned down until his forehead rested on hers. "I'm really sorry Prue."

Prue shuddered, the look in her eyes shifting from misery to something that made Evan's heart rate increase abruptly. They were close enough that it only took a little shift. One moment she was gazing into his eyes, the next she was kissing him with enough heat to melt a polar ice cap or two.

He didn't think about their agreement to be 'just friends', didn't worry that she'd try to rewind this kiss like she had the others. No – after weeks of frustrated desire, Evan just kissed her back, shifting his hand from her cheek to cup the back of her neck.

Prue wrapped her arms around him, holding on tightly. The position wasn't ideal – they were still sitting on the pier, legs still dangling over the edge. It didn't leave room for him to do what he really wanted ... to pull her closer and just consume her ... but maybe that was a good thing. He felt like he was on the cusp of a precipice he wasn't ready to see the bottom of.

"You were right," Prue broke away, burying her face against his neck, her breath sending shivers down his spine.

"Not that I don't like the sound of that, but I was right about what?" Lorne pressed his lips into her hair, breathing in her scent.

"I can't ignore this," Prue admitted, looking up at him earnestly. "If you still want to try ...," she trailed off uncertainly. The way she looked right then, the setting sun casting a halo over her dark hair, her eyes shiny with tears that spoke of longing and desire, was an image Evan didn't think he'd ever forget. He was sure, years into the future, that he'd be able to close his eyes and bring the moment to life as though it had just happened.

"Thank God for that," he muttered, leaning down to kiss her again.

Authors Note:

Apologies for the two week delay - I haven't completed writing yet (this story is getting huge!) but I'm confident now that I won't make any glaring blunders I'll have to take back. Coup d'etat is one of my favourite episodes - Lorne standing in that cell next to Sheppard is just classic - so I hope I did it justice.

I'm still more focussed on writing than I am on posting but if I get enough demand I'll try to post a second chapter this week. Thanks for reading!