Language Disguises Thought

Grace stepped inside the gym to be greeted by the whacking sound that seemed to follow Teyla anytime the woman was in the space. She moved to lean against the stack of mats, watching as the Athosian woman went toe to toe with the large form of the newest arrival on Atlantis. On the other end of the room, two armed guards sat, watching the round. At first glance, they were politely attentive, but at second, it looked very much like they were bored out of their minds.

Teyla grunted and surged forward to meet the hulking form of the man she was sparring, blow for blow until she finally managed to slip under his arm and peg him right in the belly. The man grunted, but seemed undeterred, gripping one of Teyla's wrists and executed a surprisingly elegant spin, tucking her arm up and behind her back, his other hand moving to press the wooden practice sword to her throat. In the next moment, he released her, backing away and giving a swing of the sword.

The man was huge, a mountain made human. His expression was stoic and he didn't smile, even as he'd clearly won that round. He moved toward the guards and reached for the water bottle on the bench beside them. Teyla offered Grace a wave as she padded barefoot across the floor, slightly breathless. Even in defeat, the woman was a study in fluid grace. "Dr. Becque! Have you finally decided to take me up on my offer of training you in using the bantos rods?"

"Ah. No. I appreciate the offer though, as usual." Grace gave a grin as she extended the clipboard she held. "I brought the ingredient sheet for this week. I have nearly everything I need. But I was hoping you might be able to recommend a planet where I could get some fresh vegetables to add to the meal if you saw the ingredient list."

Teyla's smile was kind as the man stood just off to the side, towel over his shoulder, water bottle in hand, his expression closed off and uninterested. "Gumbo? Like last year?"

"Yes. But this time, my friend on the Daedalus found room in the freezer for real shrimp, so it's going to be even better. What I don't have is celery, and I know you know what it is, but I was hoping you might-" Grace trailed off as Teyla grinned.

"I do, actually. There's something that might work well. I'm going to the market on Manaria tomorrow, would you like me to get some things for you?" Teyla's warm smile brought with it a wave of relief.

Grace beamed at her, reaching out to grip Teyla by the elbow gently. "I would be grateful. I'll come by your quarters later to bring you the money for it, Manarian coinage?"

Teyla nodded. "That will be fine." She glanced over her shoulder and gestured to the man. "Ah! I am being rude. I'm sorry. Grace, this is Ronon Dex. Ronon, meet Dr. Grace Becque. She's a cultural anthropologist here."

The man stared at her without speaking. Grace offered a smile, though it was distinctly awkward. She glanced to Teyla, who spoke as if nothing were wrong. "Ronon has been offered a position on Colonel Sheppard's team. He was a member of the Satedan military."

So this was the guy. This time, Grace's smile was genuine. He did not smile back, but she did see a flicker of curiosity in his gaze as he stared at her openly. "It's nice to meet you, Ronon. You should come with Teyla on Friday."

She saw him frown then, his gaze flicking toward Teyla in question. Teyla answered for her. "There is a group of us who get together to have dinner. We take turns cooking, the others attending provide beverages. It is an evening to relax among friends. You should come. You would enjoy it."

"Food?" It was the first time she heard his voice. A deep rumble that now held more than curiosity.

"It's my turn to cook, so I'll be making sausage and shrimp gumbo. There will be salad and I believe that Andy said he was bringing beer he got on his last trip to Ilsan." Grace grinned happily at the prospect. "I should be getting back to work. Teyla, I'll stop by your quarters after dinner. Ronon, it was nice to meet you. I hope you come on Friday!"

With that, she gave a final wave and turned to head out of the gym and back to her office. What Teyla had neglected to mention was that until Weir got around to hiring a replacement for Dr. Morrow, Grace was on her own with the workload of two people. And the work never seemed to end.

Ronon was not having second thoughts about attending the dinner Teyla's friend had invited him to. Nope. He'd passed second thoughts that morning, third thoughts by lunch, and fourth thoughts by the time Teyla had come to retrieve him from the watchful eyes of Merchant and Meyers, his evening guards. Teyla had quietly handed Meyers her radio. The man glanced toward him, then to Teyla before he quietly uttered the words "Yes, ma'am. Got it. Meyers out." The Lieutenant passed the radio back to Teyla and then grinned toward Ronon. "Welcome to Atlantis, man."

In that moment, Ronon felt something like relief. While he'd been considering staying, Weir had also been considering him. Sheppard's mind had been made up quickly, but Dr. Weir was far less trusting than the Colonel. Ronon couldn't really blame her though. He'd held Teyla hostage less than two weeks ago. Ronon gave a nod toward the men as he watched them turn to leave the quarters he'd been staying in since his arrival. Teyla grinned up at him as she tucked the radio in her pocket and turned to indicate the door. "Dr. Weir will have permanent quarters assigned to you by Monday. Shall we go to dinner?"

Ronon gave a nod as he fell into step beside her. It was odd, being free of the guards that had been following him around for eleven days. In some ways, it had been helpful. They hadn't let him get lost, even if they had kept him from anywhere but the public areas of the base. The walk to the transporter was brief, and Ronon eyed the panel with interest as Teyla tapped an icon that represented one of the piers. It was the first time he'd ever left the central tower.

When they stepped out, he followed Teyla down a short corridor and into a massive lobby. Soaring windows lined the room and plants covered every wall. The fading daylight bathed the area in a warm glow, and the lobby felt more like an atrium. It wasn't the first time that Ronon stopped in his tracks since Sheppard had brought him to Atlantis. He tipped his head up, staring toward the upper levels. The center of the building was hollow, with walkways ringing the center, some ten floors up, at least. In the center, a massive tree that looked like it belonged in a forest reached for the glass ceiling of the building.

"Ronon?" Teyla's voice came from a few feet away. "It's this way." She gestured toward a staircase with the bottle of wine she held, the label printed in a language that wasn't one of the dozen or so that Ronon could read.

Ronon turned, hurrying after her, taking the steps two at a time until he caught up with her. Halfway around the ring formed by the walkway, Teyla stopped at a door, lifting her hand to wave it over the control panel. The door slid open to reveal a large, open room. Only when he stepped inside did the salty smell of the ocean hit his nose, mingling with the scent of spicy food that made his mouth instantly water. "Dr. Becque?"

"In here!" The softly accented voice that was unlike the others he'd heard since his arrival drifted from around a corner. Ronon trailed after Teyla, studying the room that didn't look like any in the main tower. It was one large room with several tables stacked to one side, as if the room were claimed, rather than in regular use. That set him at ease for some reason. In the center, close to the open sliding doors that led out onto a broad balcony overlooking the water, there was a round table with half a dozen chairs around it.

Ronon turned to spot Teyla heading for a door on the right, and followed her. By the time he stepped through, he realized it was a kitchen. Not to the scale as the mess hall kitchen that he'd seen through the open kitchen door, but more like a home kitchen. It was all gleaming steel and marble.

The small woman he'd met a couple of days before stood barefoot on a step stool, stirring the contents of a large pot on top of the stove carefully. She smiled brightly toward Teyla. "You're the first ones here." The woman looked different from the first time he'd seen her. She wasn't wearing the uniform, that was the major change. Instead, she wore a pair of suede leggings that molded to her body. A loose blue blouse, the color of the lagoon on Sateda that he'd visited once when he was a child, skimmed her body, falling to her hips and ending just below her bottom. Wide-necked and gauzy, the fabric fell off one shoulder, revealing just a tantalizing hint of flesh.

"Ah! And you brought your friend! That's so great! Welcome. Ronon, right?" Ronon tore his eyes from her shoulder and back to her face before he gave a nod. The woman responded with a grin that made glacier blue eyes light up, seeming to literally fucking sparkle.

Teyla gave Ronon a puzzled glance before she stepped forward toward a drawer. "Corkscrew?"

"Drawer on the far left. Glasses above your head, I think. God only knows where Andy puts things when it's his turn to do the dishes." The woman's voice held a trace of amusement as she reached for a small glass bottle containing a powdered red spice. She flipped the lid up and tapped out just the smallest bit into the pot. When she leaned forward, Ronon got a perfect view of her leather encased bottom.

Teyla cleared her throat and behind the woman's back. When Ronon glanced at her, she was arching her brows in amusement and then gave a soft shake of her head. He shrugged lightly. It had been a long time since he'd been able to simply look at a woman's form and appreciate it. And there seemed to him to be no harm in it.

The woman gave the pot one last stir as another voice called out. "Grace? You here?"

"Kitchen!" She called out as she turned to hop off the step stool. Ronon realized then just how tiny the woman really was. She didn't even come up to his shoulder. He turned to see another man entering the kitchen, a small keg propped on his shoulder. The man was wiry and younger than Ronon. He gave a broad grin, extending his hand toward Ronon first. "Ronon, right? Grace said you might be joining us tonight."

Ronon stared at the man's hand for a moment before he reached out to accept it. It was a practice that would take some getting used to, the way the people of Atlantis shook hands. It was just so damn civilized. The man grinned. "I'm Andy Garrett. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Atlantis."

The man settled the keg down on the counter next to Teyla's wine. "Beer from Ilsan. Actually brewed in house at the tavern there. It's not bad at all. Not quite Guinness, but it'll do. You gonna put that on the table, Becque?"

Ronon was exhausted just listening to the man as he spoke. Becque spoke matter of factly. "Just because everyone else on this base is a giant doesn't mean I'm gonna risk burning myself for your convenience. If you want it on the table, you move it."

Becque slipped on a pair of flat shoes that added nothing to her height. Ronon moved toward the stove, reaching for the thickly quilted pads that sat beside the big pot and rumbled out the word quietly toward the small woman. "Move.."

He didn't expect her to beam up at him as if he were, in fact, some kind of a hero. Her entire face lit up. That smile did something to Ronon's stomach, tightening it in an unexpected sensation he hadn't felt in literally years. He frowned and shoved aside the stray thought that the woman was lovely with her hair drawn up into some kind of complex bun, that resembled a braid coiled into itself. Other than a pair of small silver studs that glinted in the light of the kitchen, she wore no jewelry. It frustrated Ronon instantly that he noticed any of those things.

The woman trailed after him into the dining room, carrying an armload of plates and bowls and an array of cutlery. Teyla followed close behind with a bowl of salad. No sooner had Ronon set the pot in the middle of the table than the door slid open and new voices joined the chorus of conversation. Another man and woman, each carrying a bottle of wine, made their way into the room. Ronon recognized Lorne, and stiffened immediately, before realizing the Major was actually smiling at him. The woman with him, Dr. Cindy Cole, he recognized as well, from his brief stay in the infirmary. The blonde woman offered him a genuine smile, even going so far as to reach out and squeeze his upper arm as she rounded the table to take a seat between Lorne and Andy.

Becque sat beside him to his right, Teyla to his left. The easy conversation around him did little to set Ronon at ease as she looked around himself and realized it wasn't just dinner among friends. It was a classy damn dinner party. He was the only one dressed like, well… a runner. Suddenly insecure, Ronon glanced to Teyla, who smiled at him reassuringly. He was acutely aware that he sat there in leather trousers that had seen better days and a torn shirt, the only shirt he actually owned. It was, at least clean. His boots were so worn that the only tread that remained on them was what he'd gouged out with his knife to make them last a little longer. He was clean though, so that had to count for something.

Beside him, the tiny woman rose to her feet. "Everyone have something to drink?" Her hand moved as she scanned the table. "Good. Let's get started then, shall we?"

Ronon turned his attention to the woman, remaining still as he struggled to summon some memory of what his life had been like before. Before running. Before it had been obliterated. How many of these kinds of things had he sat through with Melena at his side? Dinners with unit commanders, other squad leaders. Weddings. Funerals. Betrothal parties. Celebrations for births of children who would never grow to adulthood.

Becque's soft voice tore him from those bitter memories, even as the wave of grief threatened to rise. "I am glad that everyone was able to come tonight. And especially grateful to Andy for real beer and not that crap they try to pass off as beer in the commissary." A round of good-natured cheers rose, a couple of glasses raising toward the man who had apparently performed an alcohol related miracle. Ronon tamped down on the grief and focused his eyes on Teyla, using her as a fixed point. Her calm expression, replete with a contented smile soothed him, as he'd come to notice it always did. Within seconds, his heart slowed and he returned his attention to Becque. "So tonight, we have gumbo with shrimp, brought by our friends on board the Daedalus and stored in the infirmary by Cindy so that the mess hall didn't try to steal it. Salad is courtesy of Teyla, who graciously sourced the ingredients for us from her trip to an off-world market this week, and freshly baked bread that Major Lorne likes to pretend he didn't make himself. And of course, an apology in advance to Ronon, who is going to be subjected to Andy's endless analysis of flavor profiles for the very first time. Sorry, Friend. It's hard to shut him up. We'll observe the usual rules. No politics, no religion, no Wraith at the dinner table. Eat and enjoy!"

With that, Becque reached out to pluck the large bowl from its place in front of Ronon. To his surprise, she filled it nearly full, serving him first before she passed the ladle toward Teyla. A moment later, the bowl of salad appeared in front of him and Ronon gratefully loaded his plate. The bread was piping hot and he snagged two slices as the basket made its way around the table. The conversation was already in full swing by the time he picked up his spoon, glancing around the table.

His eyes fell to the plethora of food that was the reason he'd agreed to come. Besides, it was a change of view from the mess hall and the quarters where he'd spent the last eleven nights bored out of his skull. The food was a stew, hearty and dark, packed with meat and vegetables. He could smell the heat and spice coming off of it and his stomach rumbled. Cautiously, Ronon lifted the spoon, dipping it in and leaning forward to sniff. It smelled of something he couldn't quite place, had never smelled before.

A gentle nudge to his elbow and he noticed the woman leaning closer. She was holding her own spoon and gave him a smile as she rested an elbow on the table. "The little curly things are shrimp from Earth. I'm sure there's something like it here, but they're really good. The shredded white meat is chicken. And the little circular things are a spicy sausage called andouille."

Ronon lifted his eyes from his bowl, then to her, staring openly. She continued to point out the things that floated in the stew, seeming to know on instinct that he was hesitating. She didn't even ask why. He'd eaten the wrong thing one too many times not to be cautious, no matter how hungry he was. Her voice was quiet, and the words were obviously meant for his ears only. "And then the green stuff is called okra. It's a little slimy, but it's what makes it thick like a stew instead of watery like a soup. Flavor is good though."

She drew back and Ronon finally, cautiously took a small bite. The flavors burst on his tongue in a blaze of heat and spice that made his eyes water. That was a lot of pepper. He loved it. The dark spice, even the slimy green shit. He took another bite, this time capturing some of the meat on his spoon. It was even better. Ronon ignored the conversation around him and tucked into the meal like a starving man. His outlook was improving already. Teyla letting him come along was the best thing to happen since he'd arrived on Atlantis. The stew was better than anything he'd had in years, and far exceeding the quality of the food in the cafeteria.

Grace watched as Ronon seemed to deem the gumbo acceptable. In the span of two seconds, he'd gone from cautious to openly appreciative of the food. She heard a soft sound of approval somewhere along the fifth bite as he ate with a gusto that would put any of her cousins to shame. She reached for the glass of beer and took a long pull before tucking into her own meal. "So what do you say, Becque? Wanna do it?" Lorne was saying across the table.

"Sorry, what?" She'd completely blanked out, watching the Satedan newcomer eat.

"Dr. Parrish has decided that field work isn't for him. So I have an opening and I want to know if you'll finally let me make the recommendation to Dr. Weir to add you to my team. You'd definitely be more useful than a botanist." Evan's voice held a note of amusement.

Grace felt her face heat as she stared across the table at him. "I'm not sure Dr. Weir would approve the request. She hasn't hired a replacement for Morrow yet."

"She has, actually." Lorne's tone turned smug now. The only thing missing was the yellow feather hanging out of his mouth. "A Dr. Sedaris. He'll be arriving next month on the Deadalus. So what do you say?"

"Can I.. uh.. Can I have a few days to think it over?" Grace stumbled over the words, the butterflies in her stomach now launching full force. "It's been a while since I was a part of a team."

"Hansen told me you were great." Evan offered her a smile. "But sure. Take your time."

Grace's eyes fell to the newcomer once more. He'd finally seemed to slow down on inhaling the food, now using one of the thick slices of bread to sop up the last of the juices from the bottom of the bowl. She leaned forward to murmur the words softly. "Want some more?"

His eyes lit on her face and for a moment she read surprise there. He swallowed and then nodded cautiously. Grace reached for his bowl and rose, leaning forward to grasp the ladle, refilling it just as full as she had the first time. She placed it down in front of him once more and gave him a grin. For the first time since she'd met him, the man offered her a tight ghost of a smile. It was as if the idea of smiling were so foreign to him that he didn't remember how to do it.

She returned her attention to the conversation and the food both. Though the man beside her didn't talk, she could tell he was listening from the way his intelligent green eyes settled on whoever was speaking. He ate slowly, working his way through two servings of salad and three bowls of gumbo before he finally placed his spoon down on the table and reached for his beer. There was something fascinating and elegant about the long fingers and the confidence with which each movement was made.

"I swear the next word out of your mouth had better be beignet, Grace, or I'm going to start crying." Cole's hopeful expression was enough to make Grace laugh.

"Oh! I forgot about those!" Andy's eyes lit up as he reached over to slap Evan on the shoulder. "Beignets. Tell me there are beignets!"

Grace rose from her seat and nodded. "There are beignets. I made them earlier, so they've been in the oven staying warm. Just need to add the powdered sugar. Sit tight and I'll be right back."

She turned and headed for the kitchen, more relaxed than she'd been in two weeks. Once inside, she pulled the oven open. Inside were the small pieces of fried dough she'd made earlier while the gumbo was simmering. A touch of her fingers and she sent up a quick little prayer of thanks that they were still hot. She turned the oven off and reached for the bag of powdered sugar and the sifter, quickly dusting on the coating of fine sugar. It was a little taste of home in the Pegasus galaxy. That's what these dinners meant to all of them anyway. Even Teyla's overly salty tuttle root soup was a welcome addition they all ate and praised, while sneaking a lot of bread and side dishes.

Grace returned to the table, plate of beignets in hand. She waited as Andy cleared the nearly empty pot of gumbo and headed for the kitchen, then leaned forward and placed the plate down before resuming her seat. Cole was the first to reach for one of them. Andy reappeared a moment later, coffee pot in hand, along with a handful of mugs. "Damn near forgot. Evan brought coffee! Real coffee. Not that instant shit from the dining hall."

Grace's eyes widened. "McKay is the only one on the base with actual coffee. Evan… what did you do?" She knew that McKay had not given up the coffee easily.

Lorne shrugged. "I told him he was the greatest scientist the Pegasus galaxy had ever seen. And I promised to give him all my green jello for the next month. You're welcome."

She couldn't resist the laughter that bubbled up. "That's a steep price. The lime jello is the best."

Unexpectedly, beside her, Ronon spoke for the first time since he'd sat down. "I prefer the blue. The green looks too much like snot."

Across the table Lorne broke down into laughter that dissolved into outright snorts of glee at the unexpected display of dry humor from their newest addition.

Grace buried her face in her hands. "That's so true. It really does look like snot. Like radioactive snot."

For the first time since she'd met him, she saw a genuine smile light Ronon Dex's eyes, as if something inside him had eased with the statement. He reached for one of the beignets, holding it carefully in his fingers as he lifted his other hand and dragged his forefinger through the fine dusting of powdered sugar. He popped the finger into his mouth, and she saw his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before she heard an exhalation so very soft that she almost missed it. His eyes opened, focusing on the pastry before he pushed the entire thing into his mouth at once.

Grace leaned and reached out to snag the plate, drawing it closer to add four more to his own plate before plopping two on hers and then returning the plate to the center of the table. He glanced at her, his expression questioning for a moment before he lifted one of them and took a more conservative bite.

Grace accepted the cup of coffee that Andy placed at her elbow with a smile, and then took a bite of her own. She chewed intently, savoring the burst of sweetness that counteracted the spice of the pepper in the gumbo that lingered on her tongue. It had been a good dinner. These things were, sadly, the highlight of her month and damn near the extent of her social life. It was a good life, and however small it was, it was never boring.