And now pt 3…

Stephen Caldwell stood quietly with the military detail assigned to him. He had long since expressed his thanks to Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard and had been waiting for his daughter. And waiting. And waiting. So long, in fact, that Weir had called for her system-wide. He'd imagined her getting some last minute assignment McKay had given her. The man was good but no doubt Izzi would be sorely missed during his inquest. What he did not expect was her being escorted by Major Lorne carrying her bags. He felt the ingrained bodily response to the presence of a potential suitor as so many had before him. His glare hardened and back stiffened to attack mode completely on its own as he reached for the bags a curt, "I'll take it from here, " the most polite answer he could manage."

Major Lorne, to his credit, instantly got the hint, lowering his eyes as he handed Caldwell the bags and nodding. "Thank you, sir." After releasing the bags he gave Izzi an almost apologetic smile quickly before looking back at him. "Safe trip."

If Izzi had noticed it she was playing dumb. "Thanks, Lorne,"she smiled back, causing Caldwell to grit his teeth even more, as the two of them prepared to disembark. "We're ready, Dr. Weir."

He could hear Major Lorne's footfalls moving away and Dr. Weir issued commands to one of the technicians to dial the Gate and was momentarily mesmerized, watching the different chevrons lock. As he looked on, Izzi leaned in, her voice barely audible but icy. "That was rude, Daddy."

He had to admit that these were the times when she spoke like that when he was nostalgic for her mom. He was known for being a bit… abrasive. He had to admit, he liked it. He liked the ability to be the pebble in someone's shoe. Professionally, it made him just enough of an irritant to ensure that people weren't so comfortable that they wanted to start pouring out their heart to him or anything but at the same time comfortable enough that they understood his expectations. With the added bonus that very few people challenged him. Except Margaret. She had been the exception to the rule, the only person that his heart left is chest completely devoid of his control. The woman's smile alone literally changed his life. That and her innate ability to call him on his bullshit. She could be gentle like a breeze or a crashing hurricane if she needed to be. His attitude could not bully her. He'd always wondered if they're daughter would inherit that.

He looked down at her at the gate and continued spinning, lips quirking up slightly in pride in spite of himself. "The Major made you late. I was just reminding him of that."

"No, you were taking a moment to be an ass to him for absolutely no reason," she whispered a bit louder. (No reason?) "If it weren't for Lorne I would have been even later because I'd fallen asleep. (Ok, that makes me feel slightly better. Wait.. where were you?) When this inquest is over you'll get to ride around the galaxy on your ship but I've still got to work here. I don't need you burning my bridges!" (Maybe a salvo of nuclear warheads next time…)

The gate fully activated, the wormhole tsunami effect rushing toward them then back toward the ring and she rushed toward the gate without a word. He thought back to the day Dr. Weir's team was scheduled to try for Atlantis. He had done what he could to get assigned as well but knew his chances would be slim. And so they'd said their goodbyes, this time the only difference being the fact that she was going away and he was being left behind to simply watch and wait and worry. He'd been so proud of her, in spite of his own feelings and the pang of his own heart and had even pushed her to accept it as a challenge. He'd watched a recording of her exiting the base through the ring with the rest of the Atlantis expedition team. Somehow, even though she was irritated with him, watching her walk through now reminded him of that day.

He nodded to no one in particular and walked thorugh the wormhole, feeling the disorientation of transiting through to the lower levels inside Cheyenne Mountain. He'd anticipated it. Though he'd never transitioned through the Atlantis gate before, he'd read about it. Reintegration Syndrome Dr. Jackson had called it. Apparently the combination of instantaneous travel and pressure differentials wreaked havoc with the equilibrium. Most people who didn't have the ancient gene were more susceptible but it apparently affected everyone to some degree until they adjusted. Most in the military had just called it the "spins". He expected it to get better with time. What he didn't expect were the guns.

Izzi's hands were already up looking around the Control room for some authority figure as the host armed forces had trained their weapons. Not one had been pointed at his daughter, luckily , but on him. One of the men in dress blues lowered his weapon, taking a few steps. He was a tall man, broad build with a brown beard and hair that framed almost hazel eyes. "Lt. Colonel Marshall Wise. My apologies, sir. General O'Neal wanted to insure that you were, well, you."

Understood, Lt. Colonel, "Caldwell answered almost automatically. In a weird way, he was relieved that no one assumed that he was magically "cured" because Heremiod and Dr. Beckett said he was.

"That means we can put down the guns now, right?" Izzi asked, quietly, still looking at the guns trained on her father.

"I'm afraid not, Dr. Raneri. General's orders. Not at least until we can get him to a cell."

Izzi looked back at Stephen who, for her sake, kept his face placid, then turned back to the Lt. Colonel. "Sir, don't you think that's overkill?"

"General O'Neal doesn't think so. Not when there are still Trust agents out there that your father can either help or help us find."

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