Standing Outside a Fire

Part Two ::: Rough Waters

Chapter One --- Of standing in the rain

One month after the conclusion of 'Turbulent Winds'

Amazing, how in less than two days things took an unexpected turn at the Atlantis base. Really. A new enemy was made (they weren't much of a threat, but they weren't much of an ally either, honestly), Beckett got a new pet project to play with in his spare time, Sheppard and Ford gained a new person to corrupt, Weir's voice was going hoarse from yelling at the two so often, and Rodney wasn't snapping at people as much. Things were pretty good.

Yeah right. Like that ever lasts long.

---

This, he realized, was why he was a scientist and not a linguist.

"Alienos... That's not Latin." Dr. Rodney McKay muttered, bent over one of the Ancient's terminals. "It's not in this book. Why isn't anything in here?" he snapped the rustic brown English-Latin dictionary shut, patience running short. Translating an entire library of classified Ancient reports was grating on his nerves. The translator that he usually used didn't seem to work on this terminal, the Ancients thinking whatever information was in there too precious to let someone just wave the lovely tool over the interface and read along.

He rubbed his eyes, leaning back and looking over his character sheet. The Ancient's system of letters was simplistic but annoyingly repetitive. It was all made up of tiny dots lined up in a certain order and they always seemed to blur together when he looked at them.

"A...l...i...e...n...us? Alienus?" he cursed his small mistake and opened the dictionary again, flipping easily to where he left off. "'Foreign, to have an adverse effect.' Fitting." he sighed deeply, wishing unlocking the database's main passwords were more simple. Rodney jotted down the new word and moved on. "Delenimentum." he ran a hand through his hair, passing a thought to how long it was getting before refocusing.

"Delenimentum... 'charms, anything that soothes.' What is this, one of my mother's romance novels?"

He now had much more respect for Dr. Daniel Jackson than ever before.

---

Major John Sheppard walked briskly to Weir's office just outside the command center. He tapped on the door as he passed it. "Morning, Doctor." He greeted, waving one hand to her as she looked up. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did." She gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk and he ambled over and sat down. "I know I gave you the weekend off, so I fully respect if you'd like AG2 to do it when they get back, but if we could get this done sooner-"

"Doctor, there's nothing to do on my time off around here anyway. What is it?" Sheppard grinned at his superior's nervous rambling. Weir didn't get flustered often, but everyone enjoyed it when she did.

"Right." she ended lamely, drawing out the word as she thought. She decided it best to just reach into her desk and hand him the folder she wanted to ask him about. He flipped it open, whistling the Imperial March under his breath.

"AGX-053. Stargate set near a mountainous area next to a canyon or ravine of sorts. Nice temperature, nice landscape, signs of a population nearby..." he raised his eyes to hers. "This seem too easy. What's the catch?"

"No catch, Major." she smiled at his question. "Just a planet to explore for you and your team. Easy one, since it is your time off. Interested?"

Sheppard re-read the folder, scanning over the pages. "I'll let my team know. If they've got nothing better to do, sure." he rose to his feet, tapping the papers into an even stack and setting them carefully on their holder. "I'll let you know."

---

"Your writing is much easier than the one in Ju'umsu." Sheedra swung her short legs to a rhythm of her own design, making the much-too-big pant legs swoosh every few seconds. "Only 26 characters."

Beckett looked up from the microscope he was bent over. "Love, you'll be singing another tune once you find out about different dialects and slang." He grinned at her bemused expression before looking back down into the instrument. "Often I can't even keep up with it all."

"Oh." she breathed, looking down at her pencil and paper that had her untidy cursive on it. She wasn't about to argue, seeing how he had been right about the language before. Once she'd finished learning to print her letters, she was told to learn cursive. Seeing Carson's own loopy, elegant writing made her eager to take the lesson, but she soon discovered her own version was nothing like his. She sighed, pushing the chair to spin so she could watch him work. "Find what you're looking for yet?"

He kept his eye on the microscope for a long while, not yet answering. "Not exactly, but it's still interesting."

"Why? It's just my blood, right?"

He smiled again at her cluelessness. "Not quite. You blood has the genetic code that make your body work the way it does. Your DNA. I'm trying to find out the differences between your race and ours." Carson patiently explained. Sheedra spun her chair back to her work.

"Sounds boring, no offense." she mused, picking up her pencil and attempting to make a 'G'.

"Maybe so to you. This is my field of study. I think it's interesting." he replied, already pre-occupied with jotting down notes on his paperwork but still feeling amused at how quickly she picked up on Terran phrases. Just another ordinary day in the infirmary/medical laboratory.

---

Seven chevrons later...

A harsh wind ripped through them, the dry chill seeming to cut straight pass clothing to attack their skin. Sheppard began rubbing his ears, frowning as his hands and face went numb from the fierce wind. The air itself wasn't cold, but the force of it made up for that.

"We're above a valley. Mountains from the foehn's direction, it must speed up down the mountainside." McKay said, walking closer to Sheppard to be heard. The major nodded. "We should get moving. There's a path over there, by the cliff side." he pointed, nearly yelling to beat the foehn.

Near the cliff was a rough, makeshift stairway, leading down into the canyon that stretched down so far it'd make the Grand Canyon jealous. McKay took one look over the edge before hugging the path's wall. Teyla, the most sure-footed of the group, lead the way. She took the steps easily, more focused on not losing her P90 then where she walked. Ford walked behind her, seemingly ready to grab her if she mis-stepped.

"You alright, McKay?" Sheppard tossed a grin to the flustered Canadian, who answered only with a glare.

"Peachy, Major. Whenever you'd like to stop taking amusement in my irritation, do let me know."

"I'll send you a memo."

Besides their banter, not much was said as AG1 descended into the dark. Teyla occasionally pointed out rough places to step, but the four had a fairly simple time with the trek. Before long, sunlight drew too far above the crevice and ahead, what appeared to be guiding lights appeared ahead. The road leveled out, overlooking a huge outcrop from the cliff with a good-sized village spread over it. The lamp objects, McKay discovered after closer examination, were highly reflective stones that amplified the little light at least twenty-fold.

A few feet below, a group of children played with a wire-rope ring, tossing it around so it twisted into elegant shapes before being caught by one of them. They children themselves had dark, Mexican-esque skin that offset their brightly colored eyes and brown hair. They wore draped, heavy cloth, much like a Roman toga with earthy toned fabric.

Sheppard sat on the ledge, swinging his legs over to hang down. "Hey, kids. Hello." he greeted as they looked up at him, waving his hand slightly in greeting. Before the Major could continue, they backpedaled away, turning and dashing into the village. He sighed, dropping down from the ledge and leading his team into the village.

The area was mostly made of buildings, short and stocky, built into the rock walls. No plants grew, nothing having enough sun to grow. People, similarly dressed to the children, paused in their activities to stare in wonder at the newcomers.

"Not the warmest of welcomes, sir." Ford covertly whispered to his superior. "Getting some strange looks."

"They may not be used to visitors, lieutenant." he reasoned, scanning the crowd and spotting a group of richly dressed guards heading in their direction. "Hello." he greeted warmly, smiling at the approaching group.

The group bowed formally, one dressed in a dark scarlet robe addressed them. The language was obviously not English or Latin or even Ancient."Traaneda, uek ca'i moti-"

"I'm sorry, but what the heck?" Rodney frowned at the jumbled, clumsy language. "Speak English?"

The toga-wearing guards just looked at each other, seemingly just a confused as McKay was. Sheppard looked at the scientist from the corner of his eye. "One of your wonderful, genius ideas would be appreciated about now, doctor." he hissed sarcastically from the side of his mouth.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Major." the other man snapped, just was already digging around in his pack for something. "You're lucky to have me around, need I remind you?" he pulled out a notepad and a ink pen, flipping to a blank page. He bit the pencap, pulling it off and began writing. After a moment, he flipped the pad over and showed it to the locals. On the page was three forms of writing that said "Hello, we are friendly explorers from the Stargate."

"Good thinking."

"I'm acutely aware of my own IQ, no need to fuel my ego." he said in his most superior tone of voice. The natives suddenly grabbed the paper and pen from him, examining it closely. One of them whispered a bit to the leader, mimicking the way Rodney used the pen. And leader nodded, experimenting with the pen and writing down something, offering the pad back afterwards. Rodney took it, a smug grin on his face for his plan working. Behind his writing, the natives had used Ancient letter system to reply.

"What's it say?" Ford inquired, leaning over the older man's shoulder.

"In basic Ancient, it's a welcome to their world, Procella."

---

Soon after that, they were lead into a tunnel going deep into the stone wall, the hallway lit by oil lamps on stone, carven torches. The hall was large, large enough for not only AG1 to transverse, but many groups of people around them of all classes. Children ran around the polished rock floor, a squabbling group of men talked rapidly in their rough language, and girls sat in a circle on the floor involved in sewing a complex garment. As they went deeper into the tunnel, the crowds thinned out until it became very quiet. The monotony of the grey scenery abruptly changed as they came to a large wooden door of rich, cedar-smelling timber. Rodney examined the door's hinges.

"McKay?"

"Huh?" He looked up from the shined metal. "Oh, just interested in this, Major. This metal appears to have enhanced reflective properties. Takes a small bit of light and amplifies it by.. a lot. Very useful in such a dark place, I imagine..." he pulled out the paper and pen and began writing out 'what do you call this metal?' in Ancient.

The natives took the materials and muttered to each other before jotting something down and returning it. Rodney frowned and looked up at them. "Ria... Riatonisa?" he fumbled out the word, curiously trying it out. The natives smiled and presumably praised him in their language. Rodney beamed proudly at his companions. "Maybe this ancient language stuff isn't that bad after all."

They were shown through the door and into a large, pentagonal room with a crescent-shaped table in front of eight high chairs. Elder, sagely looking Procellans sat there with a very regal attitude. They looked over their noses at the new company, addressing AG1's guides in their language. The main guide bowed his head, looking embarrassed at what seemed to be a scolding. He bowed to the elders and then to AG1 before leading his men out swiftly.

"Doesn't inspire much confidence, sir." Ford pointed out in a stage whisper, hand repositioning on his P90 to be closer to the trigger. Sheppard nodded and gave McKay a slight push forward.

"Get to work, translator." he grinned devilishly at the astrophysicist, looking very satisfied with the situation. "Time to put that brain of yours to some actual work."

"Funny. You never insult me when I start talking about how I'm working on getting use back to Earth, Major." he retorted smoothly, but nonetheless began scribbling away on the paper. He scratched a few things out and re-wrote the Ancient. Rodney tentatively stepped forward and rested the materials on the table in front of who he presumed was the Council chairman. Instantly, the rest of the Procellans stood from their chairs and crowded around the writing. They babbled in their own language a bit, pointing to the message with fascination.

Teyla nudged McKay's shoulder, hand still on her weapon. "What was it you wrote?"

"Ah, something along the lines of 'we are peaceful explorers from the Stargate interested in trade and alliances. Since we do not speak or understand your language, we wish to communicate with writing.' Or something like that." Rodney grabbed the paper back, reading over the chairman's response. At the look from his team, he said it out loud. "'We apologize for the trouble you must go through to speak with us. We welcome new friendships. Are your people plagued by the Wraith like we once were.'" Rodney recited in a bored tone, already considering the note. "Wait, 'once were.'" He tapped the particular phrase and turned to AG1. "That implies that they've got some sort of defense against the Wraith."

Sheppard perked up, finally starting to pay attention. "I like the sound of that. Ask them to be more specific. Politely, McKay." he added as an afterthought, gaining a strict glare from the doctor.

"Unlike some, I am capable of controlling my mouth." he nevertheless paused in thought before replying. "Okay. 'Thank you for your approval. You implied you have a defense against the Wraith. As enemies of the Wraith, we are curious about this. Could you elaborate?'" he passed the message and we rewarded with an answer quickly. He coughed loudly to clear his throat. "'The Wraith have not attempted to strike so far into the canyon that we make our home in. For this reason we have had few cullings over several generations.'" Rodney looked disappointedly at the Major. "So that's a no on a new shield or weapon."

He jumped at a tap on his shoulder. One of the Procellans had crossed over to him, a middle-aged female with an elaborate robe. She gestured for him to give her the writing tools and he complied without hesitation. Leaning on the table, she scratched away at the paper before returning it. Rodney fumbled with the paper and read it aloud. "'What do you call yourselves and where do you come from?' Safe enough. 'We call ourselves Terrans, or Tau'ri. We come from a planet called Earth.'".

Sheppard sighed deeply, rocking to and fro on his heels, finding the exchanges out of his hands and fully taken care of. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could give Weir some good news for a change and he could grab a bite to eat back home. As Rodney stopped relaying information, instead 'talking' rapidly with the Procellan Council, he began chatting with Ford and Teyla about whatever casual topic came to mind.

---

"Are you sure this time, Major?"

The major rolled his eyes, obviously upset Weir questioned his judgement. "So I messed up with the Ju'umsu people. That was nearly a month ago."

"Not to mention the Genii." Weir countered, a smirk audible in her voice.

"The Maranians too." Rodney added, enjoying that Sheppard was being scolded.

"And the Hoffans went fairly bad too." Weir supplied.

"I get it. I'm not as good as some at delegations. Big deal. These guys are nice folks." Sheppard defended, raising his voice to drown out any further accusations. He sat on the steps leading to the gate, mostly to duck the unforgiving wind. "And here come Teyla and Ford."

True enough, the last team members climbed out of the canyon, looking upset at being back on the higher ground. Teyla handed a smooth, black object to Sheppard. "A gift from the Procellan High Council." she explained the statue, which was in a shape not unlike a dragon, coiled onto the hexagonal base. "I believe it's sort of token of friendship. I've seen this creature depicted in various places around the settlement."

"Huh. They seem to be very interested in art then." McKay commented, running his fingers over the intricate scales carved into the statue. "Kind of like Greece..."

"Greece is the ancient civilization on Earth I've read so much of. How does it remind you of them?" Teyla puzzled, looking down at the sculpture.

"No, I mean the people we met as a whole." he replied, waving an impatient hand again. "Athens focused on arts and the pursuit of knowledge. Sparta was devoted to their fighting force. There isn't much grey area there. Reminds me of this galaxy."

"An unexpected yet pleasant assessment, Rodney." Weir's voice come through again. "Come on home, AG1. I'd like to see whatever this item is your discussing."

"Roger that."

----------------Author Notes---------------

I seem to have a thing about Sheppard humming, whistling, or tapping his fingers to movie and tv show themes. Weird, ne? I guess I give my own habits to everyone I write. I'm always humming something like that. Annoys my friends to death. But it calms me down. Everyone has a thing they do. That's mine, and now it's also Sheppard's. In fanon, anyway.

Before I get flamed: In the beginning, Rodney was struggling with the lettering of the of the Ancients' language, ne? And later he was half-way fluent in it, right? Well, I figured there's basic Ancient and then advanced Ancient. Like... Ah! You know how in sign language, you can sign one letter at a time, but if you're good you can use the signing to do whole words and phrases instead? Like that. One's for beginners, the other's much more difficult. It's like that.

Any other complaints about it, I'm signing off as a plothole, so nyah!

Okay, so this is about, what, three weeks late? Sounds about right... You guys probably are asking "Where the heck were you, Doc?!" except with many expletives thrown in the mix. First, I'm so sorry. I really, really am. I know I hate it when a story I'm reading takes forever to update (especially if that story is my OTP). My deepest apologies.

So why? Well, school and writer's block mostly. This chapter was a bitch to write, plain and simple. Both jumping straight into the plot and keeping the story non-rushed (the latter I'm sure I've messed up badly) was surprisingly difficult. Another reason; redrafting the book. I write the entire plot out in an outline so I stay on task. I looked over what I had and said 'Lord, this sucks.' And proceeded to re-do the whole thing. Three times. I kid you not. I'm still editing things out. With Turbulent Winds, things were very straightforward. The other two parts are definitely not. They are very, very hectic. And the third part (currently titled Failing Light, if anyone cares) is extremely fast-paced and a LOT happens there. Trust me, it's good. Really good. I won't ruin anything, but the Wraith finally show up again and the results are amazing.

Now, enjoy. And review, at least to let me know I still have readers. See you again in a few days, unless schoolwork comes up and if it does, please forgive me.

Dr. Zephyr Tanaka

PS: Am I the only one who thought Sheppard sounded like Kirk in the last episode, "The Storm"? "Koyla! KOYLAAAAA!" is sooooo "Khan! KHAAAAAAAAN!" Am I wrong?