"What?" Ronon stared at McKay, not quite understanding how, in the span of just ten minutes, his date had gone missing. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing! We just talking and then she said something about not feeling great and then bolted." McKay's voice went up an octave, as it did when he was defensive.

Ronon turned to scan the room before he deposited the two glasses of champagne onto the table, frowning at his teammate. "If you said something to upset her, I swear-"

McKay rose from his seat, his face reddening. "I didn't! I swear. We were talking about the data from her last mission and she just got pale and ran off. I was actually enjoying this stupid party for the first time all night."

He gave a growl and turned to go, stalking past the edge of the makeshift dance floor and heading for the door. Unfortunately, his search for her took time, too much time. She wasn't in her quarters, or his. Nor, was she in the room where the supper club took its meals, although the evidence that preparations for their own holiday meal had begun. In the end, he found her in her office, a tiny room that contained a desk and a whiteboard and more books than he'd ever seen in one space outside a library.

Her shoes were discarded on the floor as she sat perched on her desk, papers and books shoved aside as an afterthought. Her feet dangled, swinging as though she were nervous, or thinking. When Ronon reached to pull the rolling whiteboard away, she jumped and clutched the wad of markers she held tighter.

One bare foot rose, hooking on the frame of the board as she barked out the words. "No! Leave it."

It was that tone, so unlike her, that made him pause. He released his hold on the board and stepped around it, edging between it and the desk. It was a tight squeeze and when he came to a stop, his nose was nearly pressed to the surface. He lowered a hand, gently wrapping his fingers around her calf and sliding his hand down to her foot, pushing it away. "What's going on?"
Her eyes darted to him nervously as she finally allowed him to push the whiteboard away, and in those pretty blue depths he saw a level of frustration and pain that made his heart speed up. "I don't know. That's the problem."

Ronon kept his gaze on her as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them and reaching out to pry open the hand that was wrapped around the markers. She yielded them and dropped her head to his chest with a heavy sigh, as if to release them was a release of whatever was bothering her. He wrapped one arm around her and turned to glance at the board. His grasp of English was still far from fluent, but it was good enough to understand most of what she'd written there.

Instinctively, he tightened his arm around her shoulder as he gleaned the basics of what she was doing. She was calculating the number of Satedans, questioning why the Makanesh were working with the Wraith. There was far more math on the board than he could begin to process at a glance. It didn't matter. The knot of his chest began to ease as he redirected his attention to what was most important at that moment, soothing her.

"This can wait." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and tucked his fingers beneath her chin, coaxing her to lift her head. Her brow was drawn down into a deep frown. She opened her mouth, probably to object, and he shook his head firmly. "Whatever you're trying to figure out, none of the answers you come up with tonight will change anything."

"But you deserve answers, Ronon. Your people deserve answers." The thread of pain in her voice made his heart ache all over again. "Until I find those answers, this is going to drive me crazy."

Ronon forced a note of levity into his voice. "I think I'd rather be the one to drive you crazy tonight."

To his surprise, one corner of her mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. "And that's why I need the answers, that kind of thing right there."

He arched one brow quizzically. "I don't follow."

She pressed her hands to his chest and patted gently. "You're so weird in the best possible way."

"Debatable. You're the one who left a party to come play puzzle games on your whiteboard."He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the mess she'd made. "You want to get out of here and go back to the party? Or we could take a walk. I know where Zalenka keeps his stash of vodka in the lab."

"Radek keeps vodka in his lab?" And just like that, she seemed better. "Why?"

Ronon grinned. "He shares a lab with McKay. Can you really blame him?"

She giggled, actually giggled, a sound he'd never heard, but instantly wanted to hear more of. "Point taken. You grab the vodka and I'm going to my quarters to grab your Christmas gift. I'll meet you on the South Pier in ten minutes?"

"Perfect. And don't make me hunt you down again." Ronon grinned as he stepped back.

"I'll be there." Her eyes were no longer sad or frustrated when he turned to go. Instead, the warmth in his chest had returned at the sight of her smiling.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she stepped out of the transporter, her gaze moving to where Ronon stood on the edge of the pier. He held a mostly full bottle of vodka in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket. His face was lifted toward the sky, staring up at the stars. She'd never seen him so relaxed while fully clothed. The sight drew her up short, her mind blown, yet again.

This man was a dichotomy to his very bones. Gentle when they were alone, going out of his way to reassure her, to protect her. Even when he got rough in bed, he was still oddly tender in that strange way of his. It was as though the act of intimacy somehow stripped him bare. The raw, primal strength that drew her to him was tempered with a softness that was both unexpected and dangerous. Her brain knew the danger, knew she was playing with fire. But her stupid heart was enraptured by him, especially when he thought no one was looking and the man beneath the runner whone through. Like now, as he stared somberly up toward the cloudless sky. She drew in a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the little box, wrapped in obnoxiously bright red paper scattered with little images of Santa Claus.

When she drew closer, his head whipped around and for a moment she saw anger in his eyes before the edges crinkled. It lasted only a moment, before his body relaxed once more. He smiled and lifted the bottle. "I can't read the label, but Zalenka brought a bottle to poker night a few weeks ago. A few hands in, he let slip where he kept it."

Grace felt a giggle bubble up inside her at the image of the usually conscientious Radek getting tipsy at a game of five-card draw. "I never pegged you to hang out with Zalenka. Who do you two play poker with?"

Ronon snorted and reached out to take her hand, guiding her to where he'd spread out a thick fur on the ground. "You'd be surprised how much fun the science team can be when you take McKay out of the equation and add in some hard liquor."

Green eyes sparked with humor and warmth as he took a seat across from her, folding long legs beneath himself as he reached for two plastic cups and opened the bottle. "That still doesn't answer my question. Who do you play with?"

"Aside from Zalenka, it's Branton, Lynch, and the short guy from the botany team. I can never remember his name." He extended one of the cups to her and Grace hid a smile behind it at the mental image of Ronon hanging out with the science department.

"I promise not to tell. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation." She tried, and failed miserably to keep a straight face. "But I'm glad you're starting to form other friendships than just your team. That's really great."

Ronon shrugged as he capped the bottle and set it aside. "They aren't my friends, Grace. They're just people I play cards with. I don't have time to make friends, and I only consider Teyla and Sheppard friends because we're together so much and it sorta happened."

"I notice you let McKay out." She couldn't help but say as she lifted the cup to her lips.

He grew quiet for a moment before he gave another of those shrugs. "I respect him. But I don't like him much. He's arrogant and arrogance gets innocent people killed."

Grace's heart did that thing again where it skipped a beat, disbelief tearing through her. There was no way this man, this powerful, strangely vulnerable man, was meant to be hers. The pull was too powerful, the notion too overwhelming. She took a long sip from the cup and then cleared her throat when she lowered it again, banishing the haunting, niggling sensation from her belly. She extended the little box she'd been palming and shook it at him. "Here."

Ronon's eyes dropped to the box, with it's green and red ribbon. He simply stared for a moment before he reached out to take it, a jolt of electricity shooting through her as his fingers brushed hers. "Now I'm really glad that Teyla warned me about Christmas."

"Warned you?" Grace lifted a brow. "You make it sound bad."

"It's not bad. It's… well, like everything else about your people, it's pretty confusing." He seemed to admit this reluctantly. "And I'm still not sure I understand it. I don't get what a holiday to celebrate a baby born thousands of years ago has to do with a fat old guy who goes around breaking into people's houses."

She snorted as she laughed. "When you put it like that, it does sound sketchy."

"Just a little." His eyes were dancing as he shifted, his hand tucking into the pocket of his trousers. He pushed something small at her, smaller even than the box he held. "I got this for you."

Surprise rippled through her and the unexpected gesture threatened to send her pulse into overdrive again. She accepted it with suddenly unsteady hands. "You didn't have to…"

"I wanted to. If Christmas is important to you, then it's important that I honor that tradition. Even if it makes no sense whatsoever." He gave the box he held a little shake, and then lifted it to inspect the paper more closely. "So this is the fat guy?"

"That's the fat guy." Grace confirmed as she grinned at him. "Open it."

His eyes flicked to her before he slipped the ribbon off and tore the paper, setting it aside to work at the scotch tape that secured the lid of the box. When he opened it, she swallowed hard. "I've never had to Christmas shop for a Satedan Specialist before and I couldn't find anything when we went off-world a few days ago. So, I ended up just…" She trailed off into awkward silence as she watched him carefully lift the medallion free of the box, tipping it toward the light of the nearby lamp to see it better. "It was my grandfather's. He was a Catholic and I know you're not particularly religious, let alone Christian, but … it umm.." It was stupid, she now realized. Her heart sank as he studied it intently.

"It's a guy with wings?" He questioned cautiously.

Grace's face flamed as she cleared her throat. "Uh… yeah. It's a religious medal. My grandfather served in the military during the second world war. His mother gave him that when he headed to training to become a pilot."

Ronon's green eyes settled on her face, his voice soft. "What happened?"

"He was shot down and captured by the enemy. He spent a few months as a prisoner of war. Toward the end of the war, they were transferring prisoners to another facility and he and a few other men decided to try to escape." Grace remembered the story well. Her grandfather had been a fucking hero.

"Did he live?" Ronon questioned quietly.

She inhaled slowly. "Yeah. They all made it home alive. My grandfather wore that until the day he died. He swore that Saint Michael had protected him because of his mother's prayers while he was gone."

"A saint?" Ronon's gaze dropped to the pendant once more.

"Saint Michael. The patron saint of the military, of protection in battle." Grace watched as he traced a thumb over the medal, as she'd seen her grandfather do a thousand times when he'd been deep in thought. "My grandmother gave it to me when he died. I've never worn it, because it didn't feel right. I'm not a soldier and I'm not a fighter, but I never... it just felt like it should be yours. For luck."

The smile that spread over his lips was unexpected. Maybe the gift wasn't as dumb as she thought it would be. He seemed to understand what it meant, both to her and what she intended it to mean. "Grace, it's too precious to-"

"I want you to have it." She emphasized, though her face only reddened more. "It's not like it can hurt."

"Thank you." He closed his fingers around it and offered a smile at her. "I'll keep it safe."

And he would. She knew he would. And just like that, she realized that the razor's edge she'd been dancing on for weeks had just cut her feet and heart to ribbons. She was in love with this man and there was nothing more terrifying than that realization. She shook her head as she attempted to refocus her rampant thoughts and lifted the little package she held, forcing a note of levity into her voice. "So what do we have here?"

Ronon's answering grin was punctuated by lifting the cup he held in a semi-toast and draining the liquid before lowering it. "Open it."

She tugged at the simple twine securing the ribbon in place and carefully unfolded the red tissue paper, and shook out the contents. It was a ring. She leaned closer to look at it, then realized it was made of some kind of bone edged with silver. A series of faintly familiar characters were etched around the perimeter of the band and inlaid silver work shone from inside the characters. In the center, set flush with a tiny square blue stone that sparkled as it caught the light. He leaned forward and plucked the ring from her grasp, his voice low and oddly vulnerable. "Lorne explained to me that your people wear rings when they're married."

At those words, her eyes widened. Ronon didn't seem to notice as he held the ring up to gesture to the stone with his pinky. "The stone is called a kalimbular. We called it the sky stone. They're pretty common on a lot of planets, but it's the same color as your eyes."

Her fucking eyes? The man bought her a ring the same color as her eyes? A wedding ring no less? What the actual fuck had she done in this live to merit this kind of thoughtfulness? She breathed out the words. "What does it say?"

She could feel the heat of his body as he turned the band, pointing to the first set of characters. "Protector." His pinky slid to the second. "Lover." And then the third, but she knew what it would be before he said it aloud.

"Friend." Grace's voice was shaking as she finished for him, her eyes flicking up to his face. "From the marriage rites."

"Yeah." His smile sent butterflies launching through her stomach and for a moment she could almost believe it was more than a Christmas gift, that he wanted to mark her out as his. "Do you like it?"

She loved it. She wanted to believe it meant what it normally would have. "It's perfect, Ronon. Thank you. I've never gotten a gift so thoughtful in my entire life."

"Does that mean you'll wear it?" When she looked up at him again, she was startled to see uncertainty in his gaze.

It may not mean to him what it meant to her, but he'd said earlier it was real. It was terrifying and huge, and far too foreign to navigate, but under the scrutiny of those intense, mossy eyes she could only nod. He slid the ring onto her right hand, his eyes lingering there for a moment before she was rewarded with a boyish grin. "I think I like Christmas."

And suddenly, she did too. She really, really liked Christmas.