Hello, people who have stuck with me all these years - especially my wonderful and INCREDIBLY patient friend Callie, for whom this story is written - and welcome to those of you who are new!

I started this story 11 years ago (WOW, time flies!), but then inadvertently abandoned it more than once - not updating it for several years, posting a new chapter, then not updating for years AGAIN. I did a revision in 2014 and also added a new chapter at that time, but have done nothing since then. I recently became inspired to take up the story again, despite SGA's having been off the air for quite some time now. This story was intended as a gift for a dear friend, so I REALLY should finish it for her! I have not yet added a new chapter (but will very soon), but I HAVE done a bit of revising to all of the existing chapters. ;)

So, here we go! I hope you all enjoy this revised/updated edition!

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing, MGM owns everything (except for my original characters and plot)!

1.

The suns had just risen when Dr. Elizabeth Weir walked into what many of Atlantis's residents had begun to affectionately refer to as the 'Galley'. Who was responsible for this new nickname, she did not know (although she did have her suspicions). However, it certainly did no harm. In fact, the opposite was true - the sobriquet actually seemed to add a more casual and relaxed element to the somewhat sterile environment of the space that functioned as their slightly makeshift mess hall, so she had no objection to it. She supposed the name was even appropriate, considering that the city was really a ship – the fact that it was a space ship notwithstanding. And it did also float on water, so….

With a small smile at her own silliness, and a bemused realization that a particular spikey-haired Colonel was possibly rubbing off on her a bit too much, she shook her head and did a cursory scan of the room. Clusters of people filled up most of the utilitarian tables that were arranged with military precision throughout the space, and at first she was a little surprised by how full it was. Smiling ruefully, she remembered that her eating habits – on the off chance that she willingly took some time away from her work to get something to eat – didn't exactly coordinate with the normal schedule of the majority of those serving under her command. Given the incredibly long hours - with little to no respite - that the excessively dedicated leader put in on a regular basis, it was practically guaranteed that very few people would be in the dining area on the occasions that she actually took the time to venture there herself.

For the fifth straight night, Elizabeth had been up well past midnight. She was feeling a little run down, truth be told. (Of course, she would never admit such a thing.) Consequently, she had gotten a later start that morning than was her usual habit. She would actually have been up even later the previous night had a certain Scottish doctor not made some pretty astonishing threats, not the least of which involved him informing one Dr. Rodney Meredith McKay that his e-mails were the absolute highlight of his boss's day. Even more astonishing, he'd actually had the audacity to threaten to also tell the excitable scientist that she would in fact prefer his e-mails to be longer, more detailed, and more frequent.

Who'd have thought that CARSON could be so devious?! The man was far too astute for his own good. He had known that attempting to use his authority as CMO to temporarily remove her from duty would have very little effect. Knowing Elizabeth's tendency to do work even when she wasn't technically working, he didn't even attempt that route….but resorting to that? It was a low blow in her opinion. Even using her honed and usually extremely effective negotiation skills did not get her anywhere with the man. He would not bend. His stubbornness had actually outmatched her own on this occasion – a feat not easily accomplished, as many could well attest. Needless to say, she had gone to bed…albeit, grudgingly.

Unbidden, her mind's eye was suddenly filled with the smirking face of her Second in Command - the very last person she would have wanted knowing about her forced bedtime. Her eyes narrowed as if the impudent man himself was actually standing right in front of her. Shut up, John.

With another little shake of her head and a wry expression on her face, Elizabeth wearily stepped over to the buffet-style counter. She quickly scanned the morning's offerings and was pleasantly surprised to discover an assortment of fresh fruit. Maybe I should try to come to the scheduled meal times more often, after all. She placed a bunch of something closely resembling grapes and a slice of a some sort of melon on her tray and then grabbed her usual yogurt and cup of coffee (black today - definitely black - and strong). She turned back to the main part of the room and automatically began walking to her typical seat at a solitary table in a corner by the windows, but paused her trek when a burst of laughter reached her ears. She turned her head towards the sound and couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face when she quickly located the group responsible for the unexpected explosion of merriment. Of course! Her smile grew even wider when one of the party caught her eye, then waved her over with a smile of her own.

Without hesitation, Elizabeth altered her course. Carefully maneuvering over to the table – much of her weariness all but forgotten - she took a seat next to her friend and nodded in greeting. "Good morning, Teyla."

The smaller woman's smile was warm, though also tinged with an curious humor, as she returned the nod. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

The leader narrowed her eyes in amused suspicion, causing the other woman to giggle – actually giggle! Teyla Emmagan, the 'Warrior Princess' of the Athosian people, giggling! Seemingly realizing that she had just done something rather out of character for her – and that it would certainly not go unnoticed by the ever observant Dr. Weir - Teyla feigned nonchalance and took a dainty sip of her half-empty cup of tea.

Elizabeth was not at all fooled and stared fixedly at her friend for a moment, but no explanation seemed to be forthcoming. Relenting, she turned her attention to the others and acknowledged them all with a slight nod and a small smile of greeting. She studied each one of their faces in turn, taking note of the varying levels of mirth in their expressions - especially on one face in particular - and raised an eyebrow slightly. She was growing more curious by the second, but her experience as a negotiator was serving her well. No one at that table could have guessed how curious she really was. She, on the other hand, could read each of them like a book.

It took no time at all to determine who was responsible for the current state of this eclectic group – despite his blatantly obvious attempt to look innocent – but she chose to bypass him and go straight to the weakest link. "Good morning, Rodney."

The scientist's eyes flitted up, then back down to the table. "Oh….uh….good morning, Elizabeth." Attempting to look casual, he unthinkingly took a drink from his freshly refilled coffee cup. Instantly, the expression on his face turned pained as he reflexively spit the steaming beverage out….straight across the table and onto an unsuspecting Ronon Dex.

There was stunned silence around the table as Rodney stared at the big Satedan in horror. No one moved as Ronon – his face a mask - slowly looked up from his now coffee covered shirt to the scientist uneasily fidgeting across from him.

Rodney nervously licked his lips and put his hands up, palms facing outward in a weak attempt at placating. "Now….ah….there is no need to overreact here….it was an accident."

He glanced around the table, searching for affirmation. "I mean…you all saw that, right?"

He gestured to his mug, "That coffee is hot! Scalding, really. I burned my tongue…..I probably have second degree burns."

"And yet, it doesn't seem to have affected your ability to talk. Pity."

Rodney gave the man sitting next to him as scathing a look as he could manage. "Ha ha ha…..very funny, Sheppard! We'll see how funny it is when my tongue swells up!"

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard merely smirked, then subtly winked at the ladies seated across from him. "I look forward to it."

Rodney glared at him, then at the women who were trying their best to keep straight faces. "This is not a laughing matter."

"No, it's not."

The scientist's attention instantly snapped back to the big man who had just ominously spoken. "Ah…look, Ronon….it was an accident….really."

He began to shake a little under the steady glare of the large warrior across from him. "As I just explained…..uh…." He weakly gestured once again to the mug. "…..the coffee is quite hot…extremely hot, actually…um…."

Stony silence and a hard, unblinking stare from one pretty intimidating Satedan caused the now fully quivering Rodney to crack. "Okay! I'm sorry! Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry that some idiot heated the coffee to such an extreme temperature that it burned my mouth - quite possibly doing permanent damage – and caused me to involuntarily spit it out!"

Beads of sweat formed on the man's forehead as he agitatedly shifted in his seat, waiting to see if his 'apology' would be accepted. Then, in a pitiful attempt at bravado, he added, "It's not my fault, really. And can I help it that you happened to be sitting directly across from me?"

Elizabeth had begun to feel rather unnerved by Ronon's unwavering stare, herself. Something is not right here. She frowned when she heard Rodney's last comment, knowing that it would not go over particularly well with the man currently covered in a mixture of coffee and spittle. She could only hope that Ronon was in a forgiving mood that morning. Glancing at his face, however, caused that hope to shrink and her unease to grow.

Faster than she would have ever thought possible (even for him), Ronon exploded out of his seat and shot his left hand out to the terrified Canadian. The incredibly forceful move sent Teyla flying from her seat into a wall and forced Elizabeth to awkwardly stumble sideways out of her own chair, barely managing to avoid a painful spill onto the hard floor. Regaining her balance with a focused effort, she immediately whipped back towards the table. She was dismayed to discover Teyla lying in an unconscious heap on the floor. Swiftly moving over to her fallen friend, she confirmed she was still breathing and was relatively unharmed…at least, as far as she could tell with only a hasty perusal. Her concern somewhat relieved regarding Teyla, she turned her full attention to the men.

What little relief the discomfited leader had experienced instantly evaporated. To her horror and disbelief, the hand that the Satedan had shot towards Rodney had turned into a shiny point that was now plunged into the forehead of the fear-paralyzed man.

"Rodney!"

This can't be happening!

The stunned scientist cried out in agony as Elizabeth instinctively started to move towards him, but she reflexively took a step backwards when Ronon suddenly turned his cold eyes towards her. As she looked into them, she instantly became chilled to the bone. The eyes drilling into her were no longer those of her friend, but of the one being she hated most in the universe: Oberoth.

This isn't possible!

She could not contain the gasp that escaped her lips. The sight was more than enough to freeze the blood in her veins, but it got impossibly frostier when he began to speak. Even his voice belonged to that loathsome enemy – a voice that she would NEVER forget for as long as she lived. "We may have been defeated, but you still have not won. No matter what you do, you will never be able to protect them."

Another gasp escaped from Elizabeth as Ronon's features changed yet again, this time morphing into that of a Wraith. His right hand shot out, latching onto Colonel Sheppard's chest. John stared at her helplessly, as rapidly his hair turned white and his features aged. "Elizabeth….."

"NOOO!"

Elizabeth suddenly shot upright in bed, trembling and drenched in sweat. She frantically looked around the room, her eyes desperately seeking her endangered friends. Breathing heavily, she stared unblinkingly into the darkness. She frantically tried to focus her erratic thoughts, but the fog of confusion created by her jarring leap from asleep to awake made her initial attempts unsuccessful. Several moments passed before her rapid heartbeat began to calm and reality was finally able to slowly break through her disorientation. She was not in Atlantis at all, but in her own spartan quarters on the Asuran ship that had been her residence (she never thought of it as her home) ever since she had escaped from imprisonment on the now destroyed Replicator planet.

Her friends were not here.

It was a bittersweet realization.

Tears formed in her eyes as she hugged her legs tightly to her body, trying unsuccessfully to still her trembling. Grasping for any shred of serenity that could possibly be had, she reached for a soft and colorfully woven Athosian blanket that rested at the end of her bed. It was the only thing she had that ever made her feel any kind of personal security. (She refused to think of it as anything even remotely akin to a 'security blanket', however. Grown women did not have security blankets - especially not grown women who were half replicator.) Some time ago, she had found it amongst wares for sale by one of the Athosian's former trading partners. To say she had been delighted would be an understatement. No longer having anything at all of home or family, it always brought her great comfort. (Atlantis she did think of as her home, just as much as – if not more than – Earth.) She sighed as she wrapped herself in the coverlet and burrowed into its gentle warmth, leaning back against the wall and reflecting on this most recent dream. She shuddered. It had been months since she had had a nightmare like that. She wiped the tears from her face and sniffed. "Why now?"

But the cold room had no answers to give her…