Before gating to Atlantis, she'd packed her things herself. It wasn't all that hard; most of what she needed had been on Fuglier and it had been a simple matter to put it into a duffle bag and beam it down to the SGC. Everything else she'd needed, she'd robbed from supply with Jack's blessing. There were spare uniforms – and some of them were the gray Atlantis ones, since Jack had shown them to her and she rather liked the style, although gray wasn't really a color she was fond of wearing. There was a photo album that hurt way too much to open now, but she'd known if she didn't take it, she'd have been sorry. There were some civies – non-military clothing, like sweats and shorts and a couple sweatshirts. A bunch of odds and ends, and then there was her coffee.

An entire large box had been devoted to coffee grounds. Packs and packs of them, stacked tightly and pressed as closely together as they could be to ensure that she had enough to last her a good while. There was more – a lot more – in the stacks of supplies that had been slated for the Atlantis team, but this box had gone through the gate only seconds after Mitchell had – to make sure that if the gate had shut down prematurely, she'd still have her coffee while she tried to figure out how to get herself home. Since she'd been told that the supplies had all made it through, Mitchell didn't feel guilty at all about keeping this box to herself.

She set that box beside her dresser thing, and then pulled out the final prize. A battery operated coffee pot. She hadn't been sure how long it would take her and Talon to get power running – if there hadn't been anyone in Atlantis, she might not have had any power for days – and there was no way she was going to go that long without coffee. It wasn't a full-sized pot and maker, but it'd do for now. She set it on the dresser next to her P-90, and took the pot into the bathroom to get some water. Sheppard hadn't told them the water in the bathroom sink was safe for drinking, but she had Talon, so it didn't really matter. Besides, it'd get hot and probably could kill anything that was dangerous.

You're awfully fond of using me to fix things for you he chided.

That's your job, right?

He mumbled something even she couldn't understand, and she grinned and started the coffee.

While it was brewing, Mitchell took the opportunity to strip off her weaponry. She hung the belts with their holsters from the post at the head of her bed, and pulled her boots off, and then headed into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Major..."

Sheppard looked up from his meal and saw Ford standing by him with a cup of coffee in his hand. He gestured for the younger man to sit down, and the Lieutenant did.

"Where's Colonel Mitchell?"

"In her quarters, looking through some of our mission reports."

"Ah." He'd been hoping to have a chance to chat with her. "I suppose she has a lot of catching up to do."

"Yeah."

Ford smiled, and took a sip of his coffee.

"It was a surprise to see her."

"Yeah? Not the off-world type?"

"Oh, no." Ford shook his head. 'She's hardly been on Earth the last few years, from what I've heard. She's been too busy taking care of the Goa'uld and-"

"Tell me more about these Goa'uld, Ford," Sheppard asked. "Doctor Weir says they're a parasite that takes over a human host and makes it do what it wants, but I don't see that in Colonel Mitchell..."

"She's not a Goa'uld, Sir. She's a Tok'ra – a good Goa'uld. They don't use their hosts – not like the Goa'uld do. The Tok'ra – from what I understand – don't like the Goa'uld any more than the rest of us do. Did. They're not a threat anymore."

"Because of Mitchell?"

Ford nodded, and proceeded to tell him a much longer version of the tale that Weir had tried to tell Sheppard. One that Ford knew better than Elizabeth had, because he'd been following Mitchell's exploits with her symbiote since he'd heard of it, and he'd had sources in the SGC – security forces and various medics – who had been able to give him the real story, and not the 'official' one.

When he was finished, Sheppard was suitably impressed. But still confused.

"So... she's like... the biggest of these system lords, then?"

"She's definitely the most powerful," Ford told him. "The power comes from the size of the territories and armies they have, and Colonel Mitchell and Talon control 99 percent of the Jaffa – and probably that much territory."

"These Jaffa are super soldiers?"

"More or less. They're mortal, but they're raised to be warriors, and it shows. Have you ever met General O'Neill's friend, Teal'c?"

"No, but I've seen him around. Once." There was no forgetting that big guy. If Mitchell was in control of a large army of soldiers like Teal'c, then she was definitely a force to reckon with, certainly. Which made it all the more weird that she'd leave all that.

"What do you suppose she came here for?" He asked, looking down at his empty cup. "She had everything back there. Why leave it and come someplace that you're not even sure there's going to be people...?"

Ford shrugged.

"You'll have to ask her, Sir."

He had his own suspicions, but he wasn't going to share them with Sheppard. That was Melony's business and not his. He had a feeling though, that it had something to do with Brad Anderson's death.

"Maybe I will..."

He sighed, and stood up.

"Thanks for the chat, Lieutenant. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

"Yes, Sir."

He stood up and headed for the door, and almost crashed into Rodney McKay.

"Sorry."

"Major, have you seen Colonel Mitchell?"

"Hmm... blonde? About this tall?" He held his hand just a little shy of his own height.

"Very funny..."

Sheppard grinned; he thought it was funny.

"She was in her quarters last time I checked."

McKay started to turn around.

"She's looking through mission reports," Sheppard said. "You might want to leave her alone until she's done. She has enough to do right now without being pestered by you."

There was that word again. Pester. Rodney frowned.

"I'm not going to pester her," he said. "I thought I'd just go offer her my... expertise..."

"I'm sure she knows how to read."

"There might be some things she has questions about. Scientific stuff. Stuff you wouldn't know anything about..."

"But there might be some ordinary people stuff in there, too," Sheppard said. "Regular people stuff. Normal stuff. Stuff you don't know anything about."

"Cute."

Sheppard smiled.

"Leave her alone, McKay. She'll come out and join us when she's ready to. Until then, give her a chance to acclimate herself to her surrounding, okay?"

He made an annoyed noise, but shrugged.

"Fine. I suppose if she has any questions, she could come find me..."

"I suppose she could," Sheppard told him, patting his shoulder as he walked past him. "I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."

"What?"

"Nothing..."