TAKEN BY STORM

By Kidders

Rating: T (or TV14) for violence—including interrogation/torture of a character, and mild to slightly harsh language; also a brief scene of a sexual nature (nonconsensual sex, written as implied and mild as I can make it). Finally, injuries are written in a graphic, realistic manner. This is part one of a planned, ongoing series. I'm not really adept at figuring out the rating stuff, and am basing this story's restriction mainly on what I've seen from Buffy and Angel, and the ads for video games. It's toned down so most of the suggestive sexual theme is accomplished through dialogue rather than pure action. Hope it's okay. So, more tortured John ahead, peruse at your own risk.

Spoilers: Everything up to and including The Storm and The Eye

A/U: I've toyed with the ending of The Eye, taken it to a different level, though things may not always be what they seem! Parts 2 and 3 will have a pinch of AU as well, because I have plans for that bug from 38 Minutes (completely different than the show spoilers I've read about!)

Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed my first SG:ATL fic, "Afterburn". And I think the series plays Kolya as too forgiving (a waste of a very talented actor in Robert Davi); in my fics he's a lot more ruthless. This is done for fun, alas no profit sigh , other than my own gratification.

A/N again: Been incubating this one since January, work and health slowing me way down. Sorry if the Genii/john revenge theme has been used to excess, but spent a lot of time on this and wanted to post it. I've only had the chance to read a handful of the stories posted on I hope my spin will be unique enough for interest. Hey, any other good non-slash Atlantis fic sites out there? Or downloads or other cool stuff? (If anyone has the time, please email me, my computer time is limited due to work and illness, and I would love to hear so good suggestions for fic, and well as lists, etc…)

Sidenote: The review bar does not work when I'm logged onto so I can't respond to the authors I especially admire (and happen to remember, so if you're not on the list, don't fret): KerrAvon, M.N.Talbert, Not Tasha, Tipper, and Koschka. Love your stuff!

"Your base has fallen."

Such a simple statement. Leading, with a plausible ring of truth. A hard truth, twisted and forged to lay the foundation of what was to come, and galvanizing to his prisoner. Moments ago, the Atlantian had been riding the edge of consciousness, head lolling forward, bouts of shivering driving harsh breaths from his subject's lungs as pain became a sour-stale mix of sweat and urine oozing from the man's pores even now that he no longer screamed. The odor did not deter him, nor did it imply weakness on the part of his prisoner. Current traveling through flesh and bone easily disrupted the automatic signals sent by the brain to the rest of the body. Yes, Kolya thought, today's lesson would be harsh. "It has been consumed by the sea." Permitting himself a sigh, he inflected his tone with a hint of commiseration. "I'm afraid your comrades on Atlantis are dead, Major Sheppard. You are all that remains of your expedition."

The man's chin jerked up, chest flexing against the bonds binding him to the chair. Bloodshot eyes widened, disbelief dissolving into anger. "I think you're lying, Kolya," Sheppard muttered, suddenly gasping, agony twitching in his face before a blink restored the blank indifference this one so often sought refuge in. It was going to be an informative study, breaking the major's will. "And might I a-add…this is a really bad s-seat. I want to cash in…ah…" A sharper gasp this time, no doubt the broken rib or cracked ankle. "…cash in my f-frequent flyer miles and upgrade to…to first class."

Hope was gaining a fragile toehold upon the steps of denial. The commander smiled. Persuasion was about to be given validity by the drug now coursing through his enemy's veins, a compound proving far more effective in this human than any Genii ever tested. "We have been unable to dial your Stargate, Major." Kolya leaned forward, hiding the pain the movement cost him in a cough. "Atlantis is gone. A shame, really, that Dr. McKay's valiant efforts proved futile." He circled behind the chair, pausing to study the rigid muscles roped and knotted across John Sheppard's bare shoulders, the hempen twine binding his captive's wrists saturated crimson, blood dripping in an ever-growing puddle beneath the chair. "And now the city has been reclaimed by a traitorous sea. You have no home now, no allies with which to trade." He snagged a fistful of dark hair and wrenched his prisoner's head back. The Atlantian's eyes narrowed to slits, breath catching as the man swallowed hard. "All you have is me," Kolya stated calmly. "You are now my soldier, Major. I will tell you when to eat, when to sleep, when to breathe…"

Sheppard grit his teeth, still able to manage a whisper. "They can't all be d-dead. The Athosians might still be on the…the mainland. Weir an-and McKay could've gated off-world before the city…sank."

Doubt lingered after the word, his prisoner's eyes clouding in confusion. The drug's haze was beginning to wane, real memories swimming to the surface of the major's mind, trying to re-establish a connection to the present. Kolya dropped the man's head and drew up his prodding cane, bringing the iron rod to bear on the major's closest kneecap. The sharp crack echoed in the small room as would small arm's fire, and elicited an agonized shriek from Sheppard. "Very unlikely. The reason I withdrew my force after acquiring the stores requisitioned by Cowen is because without the last grounding station functional, the shield could not be raised to thwart the growing atmospheric and tidal disturbances. The city was flooding when we evacuated by Jumper, Major. As you should remember clearly, given the impetus needed to convince you to launch as ordered." Kolya stared at the bowed head, recalling Sora's account of her escape, how she had taken advantage of her hostage's bare feet by driving her steel-shanked boot tip straight into the exposed ankle before they both stepped through the Stargate. "Regardless, it is not your concern now."

Sheppard had to arch his neck to actually look him in the eye, but added effort did little to dim the defiance continuing to burn in those green depths. "What is…my…

concern?" he asked brazenly. "'Cause I'm a bit out of the loop. I've lived up to my end of the bargain. Got you a couple of Puddle Jumpers and some loose change in those blocks of C-4." His voice rose, the first stirring of fear since the interrogation had begun. "I've taught your pilots how to fly the ships, and what not to do when blowing up your neighbors. Just like we agreed. I'm not the physics whiz that Rodney is…w-was…" Sheppard frowned, blinking and staring aimlessly at the floor. A carefully vented sigh dropped his voice low. "But I could crunch some numbers, maybe…and…" Thoughts frayed until it was obvious the human no longer knew what he debated. "What the hell else do you expect from me!"

"To return to Atlantis is to court death, Major. You are too valuable a commodity to waste. I have spared your life for one reason: to allow you to serve me as you once served Dr. Weir. Obey my every order, and perhaps later you will be permitted to train with my unit. Eventually go on missions against the Wraith, should I sanction it."

"And if I don't?" Chin up, Sheppard's eyes glistened, the insolence re-igniting, a flame burning out of control and needing to be quickly extinguished.

Kolya kept his expression inscrutable, his reply low, measured. A counterpoint to the endless throbbing consuming his shoulder, courtesy of the bullet wound triggered by the major himself. "Then your stay here will be most unpleasant."

"I didn't sign on to become part of your ragtag team of resistance fighters," Sheppard exploded, twisting violently at his bonds. "I fulfilled my goddamned mission here, so just let me go and I'll get out of your hair. We part company, and we part it now!"

Kolya poked the end of his staff into his prisoner's collarbone, felt the vibration of Sheppard's flinch as it rolled through his wrist. He didn't discharge the weapon, merely studied the raw, reddened areas of burnt skin and singed hair on the major's chest. "You have no home to return to," he said, very softly.

"Like I keep saying…speculation! And even though your plan for attacking the Wraith is completely whacked, I have no love for the life-sucking feeding frenzies these guys are into, so if you want to try and thin their numbers, be my guest."

They had been so close. Atlantis would belong to the Genii now save for the sabotage waged by the man before him. A single warrior able to anticipate their tactics and neutralize them, taking so many lives in the process, soldiers he had trained… He had warned Cowen that they were not yet a strike force. Being proven right left him little satisfaction, only caused the pain in his shoulder to ache more fiercely than before. It had been a mistake to keep Dr. Weir and McKay alive. Witnessing the major's anguish minutes ago when he believed their deaths to be a reality told him enough: there should have been no mercy. "You do not believe our military and technical advancement worthy to strike at the Wraith?"

Something in the quality of his tone captured the Atlantian's attention. The man suddenly went very still, breath whistling in his throat as he took great interest in the floor. "I never said that…exactly."

"You did not have to." With the barest flick of his fingers, Kolya whipped the staff across the major's upper arm, finishing the arc by thrusting the end into the man's side. A rib snapped under the strike, and this time the uttered cry was weaker, lacking in strength to sustain itself and fading quickly. The major's chin dropped and he leaned in as far as his bonds would allow, as though position alone could erase the pain.

"You... son …of…a…bitch."

Kolya grabbed the injured kneecap and squeezed brutally. Sheppard's head shot up, the cry wanting loose somehow barred behind a gagging half-swallow. Shock glistened faintly in the gaze he had captured. "I ask again—you think of our effort as small and foolish?"

Sheppard licked his lips, and panted, "No, I just think you're gonna need a bigger b-boat. A goddamned carrier with full fighter escort, for starters."

"It would be wise not to further try my patience, Major. I am growing weary of these frivolous exchanges." He nodded to the guards, and moments later his subject's wrists were bound palm-side up to the flattened, metal armrests. Interrogation was an art form, yet every person reacted differently. The brush he wielded had been honed well over the years, with a learning curve continually in motion. John Sheppard was nothing like the squeamish scientist on Atlantis who had folded after the first taste of a blade. This man would not be so easy, and a challenge against a worthy opponent was something he had not tested in a very long time.

The Atlantian's face had paled, pupils emerging to nearly obliterate the stormy sea of green. "Haven't you done enough already?" Sheppard looked wildly around the room before slumping into his bonds. "I'm cooperating. I've done everything you asked."

He rapped the stick sharply on the chair, barely missing bruised knuckles. "You are holding something back."

"No, I'm not!"

"You hold vital intelligence necessary to improve our strike force." He circled around the chair, and heard his prisoner's breath quicken. "Details capable of ensuring our next offensive will achieve a greater success."

"Success?" The major let out a brief snort of derision. "You are out of your fucking mind, Kolya! Your squad doesn't stand a chance at mounting a successful offensive against a hive ship! But if you want to go and try blowing yourselves up, hey, who am I to stop you? I've given you back the data disk, even turned over the encryptions we were using. You don't need me! It's all been laid out right under your nose!"

"Major Sheppard…" Kolya sighed, slowly running the end of the staff from shoulder to forearm, down to the pilot's wrist. "As a hostage, a good rule of thumb is to never reveal to your captors that you have outlived your usefulness. A tactic I am certain your superiors emphasized during combat training. So the fact you are avoiding the issue, feigning ignorance, tells me a great deal. It suggests subterfuge, a conscious effort to guard secrets you feel I do not need to know."

The stick kissed the major's fingertips without discharging, though Sheppard again reacted like it had, startling badly and slewing his gaze sideways, contempt for the Genii uniform twisted upon his lips. "You don't need…period. And I've given you all there is."

"That is unfortunate." Kolya reached down and flipped the chair backward, sending molded steel to meet concrete bunker floor in a powerful clatter. The prisoner choked, frantic gasping to replace air deflating some of his impudence. "Because the rules of the game have changed. As the late Dr. Weir professed, my people do not possess the genetic component attributed to those you call the Ancients. Cowen believes it does not matter, but I disagree. So not only do I require the technology put into use by your military, I want everything you have learned about these 'Ancients' you so often refer to."

"Well, play me a night in Bangkok…" The human coughed, slowly winning the struggle to replenish his lungs. "And I'll take your…King and Queen…for a ride, asshole. The Ancients, in case you didn't know, got their butts kicked by the damn Wraith. Even with flashy technology out the wazoo, they ultimately pulled up stops and moved on to…to greener pastures." Voice dropping lower, Sheppard started chuckling. "Green, yes, always a good color, my young Jedi…there is yours truly, of course, and the Green Goblin, Galloping Green Ghosts. Must not forget good old Kermit the Frog, his royal greenness had quite the little hottie in Miss Piggy, yes he did."

"Major," said Kolya, kneeling and twisting the little finger on the major's right hand to make his point. "This behavior will not be tolerated."

"Oh, please sir, may I have another?" Sheppard pleaded, making a face as he yelped in pain, pupils expanding until his eyes were nearly all black. "Another jolt? Oh, right, been there, done that. Sorry you missed the first showing." He dropped back into that ridiculous voice. "The Green Bay Packers, NFL team they are, a shame not getting good reception on Dagobah, but very good team at playing football. And must not forget The Green Mile, hmmmm…Stephen King could write thing or two about this galaxy, indeed he could, but audience would…would have to eat him. Oh, turning wrong that was…meant flesh-rotting zombie green, I did. No, Soylent Green…" Suddenly sobering, Sheppard trembled and whispered in a normal tone, "Ugly Wraith green." A few minutes passed while the human gathered extra breath. "Another thing: Weir's not late. Ever. The good doctor's always on time…she's…"

"Major," Kolya cautioned once again, wondering at the drug's bizarre giddy effect. He twisted a fraction harder, then released the digit. "My patience grows thin."

"Thin?" Sheppard echoed, any trace of amusement vanishing in an instant, jaw muscles bunching into a pulsing knot of tethered rage. The drug was causing mood swings even he could not have anticipated. "Screw thin! What's thin is your logic, even skinnier the Genii version of the truth! You never intended to let me go, did you? The deal sold to Dr. Weir by Sora was just a snow job, devised to land me under your thumb, because you knew I'd never let anyone else leave…" Jaw going slack, the man's eyes abruptly widened. "Oh, shit!" he gasped. "She's alive…Weir's alive! And-and-McKay, Ford, Teyla Beckett…God, they're all alive! And Atlantis survived…" He nailed him with a glare, and spat, "You did lie to me, you slimy fuck! Pumped me so full of crap I couldn't tell the difference between the stick and the damn radio. Why?"

He stood slowly. "Major, you know that when questioning an enemy combatant, information will be more forthcoming if that individual is isolated, believes that no rescue attempt will be made on his behalf, and understands there is no avenue of escape. Since information has not been freely exchanged, I'm afraid your interrogation is not over, nor will it be until I am satisfied by your answers." A door opened at the far end of the room, and light footfalls crossed to where he remained by the prisoner.

Sora stood at attention. "Reporting as ordered, sir."

He acknowledged her with a nod. "It is time we expanded your instruction."

Rigidly holding her chin level, Sora's eyes darted to the overturned chair and its half-clothed occupant. She glanced at him again, and answered, "Yes, sir."

"I believe you know Major Sheppard?"

"Yeah, we were never formally introduced, were we?" the human said glibly, pain forgotten as he gloated over the return of his memory. "And now that 'I see dead people,' I was kind of hoping for a rematch."

Kolya felt anger color his face, and thundered, "Enough! The next joking remark will come with a price, Major. Be silent, or face the consequences." Focusing on his cadet, the commander reclaimed his composure. "I noticed upon our incursion to Atlantis, you seemed uncomfortable with my methods in securing the city. And there was the matter of disobeying an order I issued you."

Sora flushed slightly. "I apologize, sir. It will not happen again."

"Since it was a learning experience, we will not speak of it further." He studied his protégé gravely. "Should the Wraith come, they will show no mercy. Thus, we must prepare to be equally as ruthless. The trick is realizing how far down the path to tread before the slope becomes too steep to navigate." He paused, and the woman's gaze involuntarily strayed to his. "Eliminating the guards proved the strength of our agenda, and provided the opportunity to pick and choose our targets."

"I understand, sir."

Kolya permitted himself a small smile. "Consider the major, Sora." He led her around the chair. "His usefulness in incalculable, a wealth of knowledge, including the city of the Ancestors and his home world, waiting to be explored. And since we are not complete savages, his life expectancy should remain well within norms. His health, however, is another matter. Do not underestimate him. He will use humor and flippant remarks to stray you from your goal. Allow no distraction to dissuade you." Kolya gestured to the tech scientist standing by a table full of devices and other instruments. "Another dose, please."

"No, no more injections!" Sheppard blurted from the floor, yanking violently at his bonds. "I don't want that stuff anywhere near my veins!"

Finally, a genuine stirring of panic from his captive. "Why should I grant you any favors, Major? I had a bullet tear through the flesh and bone of my shoulder, fired from your gun. I lost more than sixty members of my elite unit, all trained by me since they were old enough to fire a weapon. From where I sit, things have swung far too much into your advantage, Sheppard. An adage ripe for change."

Sora raised her chin a notch, the light in her eyes slowly darkening. "I want him to experience the punishment I impart with exquisite detail, undiluted by medicinal derivatives."

The reaction was not lost on Kolya. "Very well." He waved the tech away, leaving the loaded syringe on the table. "The major has information vital to our cause, our campaign against the Wraith. He also has had access to reports detailing how and why your father perished." Good hand rising to grip her shoulder, the commander felt the coiled emotion ready to be unleashed by his order. Though she had helped Teyla rescue the Atlantian physician so that they all might live, the desire for revenge upon the Athosian had not dimmed since her return to the Genii. A hatred easily transferable to Sheppard. "Control," he said quickly. "Always be in control. Stay away from the major's head and hands, we need him to stay rational and continue his flight duties. What is broken must mend."

"Ground control to Major John…we have a situation here," the human broke in. "Have to catch you on the next approach."

Not to be thwarted, Kolya held her gaze. "The rest—method, choice of technique—that is all up to you, Cadet. Question the prisoner. I will supervise, and only intervene if control is lost."

"My father…" Sora bent down so she could look her enemy in the eye. The major kept up the stare for a long moment, finally twisting his head to gaze at the ceiling. He was pale, forehead and chest glistening with sweat, face covered by a dark shadow of stubble, the pain he was feeling given credence by the shallow-quick breaths he drew, the rigid line of his lips. "Know this, Major," she said softly. "Nothing you say will ever repay the grief you and Teyla Emmagan dealt upon my family. I showed her mercy, while none was granted to me. As far as I am concerned, the final responsibility was yours. So it is fitting that you will suffer both your punishment and hers."

He snickered softly. "Bonus points. And I was sure I passed that check ride."

She stood and selected a thin, leather strap from a nearby shelf. "Tell me of the Wraith, Major."

Eyes rolled her direction to stare unblinkingly. "Well, I've come to know they're bad tippers, always leave their table in a real mess. You know—" One shoulder twitched. "Never happy with what's on the menu."

The leather felt smooth and well sewn in her palm, several smaller strips fanning out below her hand, pelted and frayed in meticulous design. "How did you gain this insight?"

Appearing to consider her question, Sheppard's eyes narrowed, and he said flippantly, "Crashed a dinner party by accident. Left my wallet, had to go back. They were pretty pissed about that ten bucks, as I recall."

Sora flicked her wrist as she'd been taught, sending the strap through a whistling arc to land across the soles of the Atlantian's bare feet, stripping away flesh in a bloody line. Sheppard gasped, neck arching, fingers curling tight as his wrists tugged at the rope. "Wh-what the hell did you d-do that for?"

"I will not tolerate lies!" she snapped.

Face contorted, he swallowed thickly. "I told you the damn truth!"

She raised her hand, and saw something flicker in those dark-green depths. Not just fear or the bracing for another blow, but evasion and tactics. "Not the whole truth," she concluded quietly, firmly steering her mind from the nervous churning within her belly. "You left my father to die!"

"I didn't leave…anyone," Sheppard denied, a violent shudder rippling along his body, sending fresh blood oozing from the wounds on his feet. "Kolya!"

"This is my session, and I disagree, Major." Sora added two more cuts across his mid-soles, using as much strength as she could muster, driving the strap in deeper and deeper, tearing away skin with more slashes until blood was dripping to the floor in a steady stream. Sheppard's eyes were squinted shut, every breath taken now a harsh struggle, air wheezing in his throat around swallowed screams, face whitening to match the concrete floor under his head.

"N-n-not le-leave behind," he whispered, head lolling weakly. "Cowen's o-order. Please…tell me…I get t-time off…for good behavior."

Sora paused, listening to the prisoner's enervated panting, and couldn't help herself, couldn't stop or turn it off. Flashes of her father: his lungs straining to draw air against a Wraith scourge, body weakening in a blaze of agony while internal organs shriveled and burst, and vital liquids were sucked away until only an empty husk of skin remained. She wondered if, at the end, before death rattled away one last feeble breath, if he had thought of her. He had been taken from Genii too soon! Her father should have stayed to see her wed, to escort her to her betrothed and bless the union, stayed to school and love the many grandchildren she might have brought forth in the joy of living. Now there was nothing. Empty dreams and lost promises. All because of this Major Sheppard and his stupidly inept Athosian companion. Their crime was simple and damning—they had abandoned her father to die alone in the Wraith ship, a ship that by all rights should still be slumbering. She might never have seen a culling in her lifetime if not for these new visitors.

"'We do not leave people behind,'" she mocked softly. "Is that not your pledge? The cowardly scientist spoke of such a creed when being questioned during the storm."

Sheppard moaned, eyelids fluttering. "Not same thing. Cowen's order, no-not m-mine."

"That's a lie!" Sora blinked, a trail of scalding tears staining her cheeks. "You did this!" she shouted, bringing the strap down low and hard over his shins, tearing cloth and skin in one strike of the whip. "You and Teyla Emmagan! You deserve to die for your crime!" Fury drove her aim, making the lash sing twice more. The human cried out, and she leaned down, close enough to see dark hair plastered sloppily across his temples, smell the pungent reek of sweat and pain. "Would you have been so eager to depart had it been your precious Teyla snared by the Wraith ambush?" she murmured.

He didn't answer, so she knelt further and grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze to hers. "Would you have left Teyla!"

"N-no…not…l-leave…" Pain and shock were widening his pupils into a fixed, glassy stare. He shivered, biting down on his lip. "D-didn't m-mean to…wasn't th-there."

"But Teyla was. She made the critical error in strategy, and should be held accountable. As commanding rank officer, you will be judged in her stead."

"Judge n-not…" Sheppard coughed, throat moving spasmodically beneath her palm. "Any port in a storm…not wh-what it's cracked up to b-be, is it?" He chuckled, an odd sound, half pain, half despair. "'You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.'"

"Direction, Cadet." Kolya's voice floated from a darkened corner, reminding her of the primary mission.

"Share your science and technology," she ordered. "Of any weapons found able to resist the Wraith's power."

"Misery loves c-company." He peered at her, face so drenched she could not discern sweat from tears. "And company…never g-goes unannounced. Good poker face always a plus, plenty of ammo a must."

Sora stood and slashed at his feet, each stroke falling harder and faster than the last, until Sheppard's screams rose in cavernous echoes above her head, his voice dying in a series of broken whimpers. "Speak of your ancestors! What lies beyond your Stargate?"

Trembling, the major blinked at her, lips struggling to form words. "Ain't no picnic, Cadet." He swallowed, tilting his head back to get more air. Spittle dripped down the human's chin, his eyes unfocused with pupils as glassy and dark as the water used to fuel their experiments. "Terrorist trying to blow us and themselves to kingdom come, wiping out men, women and children without mercy. War…disease…'dogs and c-cats living together'…it n-never stops. General O'Neill laying on th-the hard sell, come t-to Pegasus, weather's g-great. Hah! First week I'm here, a big nasty alien bug takes a bite out of my neck on recon…Hulked-out hurricane tries to gobble up Dorothy and the Tin Man an-and the entire s-state of Kansas. Not a big leap…then to n-now. Life-sucking zombies…" He shut his eyes, but not before seeking out her gaze. "…at every goddamn turn."

"You are no better than Teyla," she spat, crisscrossing his feet again, drawing fresh blood, but this splattered on the floor and on her uniform, everywhere she looked she could see the major's blood. The skin on his feet hung in tatters of bloody pulp, where the sweet-metallic stench of lost bodily fluid almost made her gag. Absently, she swiped one stained hand on a pant leg, a sick haze obscuring her vision and freezing her mind into exquisite detail of what she had done. Sheppard moaned softly, his last conscious act before shock and pain drew him into an unreachable abyss. Kolya drew the whip from her lax fingers, and Sora stepped back, vision filmy and wet, tears crystallizing on her lashes as she breathed harshly.

"Well done," the commander praised quietly.

Sora glanced at him sharply. "But I learned nothing! I failed!"

"No, you let your emotions dictate your strategy." He eyed the prisoner's feet, and grimaced. "In the future, stick with bones as your primary target. They heal quicker than flesh, can be repaired easily, and if necessary, can be fractured again in later sessions. Maximize pain and persuasion, and rely less on permanent injuries. As long as we need him functional." The commander leaned down, studying the major's slackened features, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Abruptly, he stood. "Clean him up, Cadet."

Sora scrambled to attention, her ears burning. "I…I beg your pardon, sir?"

Kolya stared, until the young woman's gaze fell to the floor. "Your prisoner is useless for the remaining hours left in the day. So to prepare him for tomorrow's session, you must bathe him, stitch and bandage all wounds. Be ready to begin at 0800 hours, Sora. I want the major lucid, and eager to cooperate, just in time for the next dose of serum. Are we clear on this matter?"

"Yes, sir," she answered woodenly, unsure of what to do with her hands, the warm-wet stickiness of blood splatter sending queasy lumps rolling through her stomach.

"Burn his remaining clothing. Sheppard will no longer wear that uniform."

The commander left, and she made her way to the aid supplies while two guards lifted the prisoner onto a cot. They departed without speaking, and Sora stood at the basin she'd filled, attention fixed on the cuffs drawing the major's arms above his head. With a sponge, she began scrubbing at the sweat and sickness clinging to his skin. Face, chest, and arms cleaned, and he never moved, eyes still closed, not even a flutter of lids when she cut away the filthy trousers and covered his groin with a towel. Yet the moment she touched his feet, Sheppard gasped, eyes shooting open to stare at her intensely.

Sora stood at attention, though for no reason she could fathom, one hand stupidly clutching a crimson-soaked sponge, the other a bar of fresh soap. The blood had run clear upon the rest of his body, only now it clung to her every pore. Not merely her fingers. She had blood in her hair, on the back of her wrists, under her fingernails. His blood, his pain and suffering delivered by her hands, come full circle. Feeling the need to say something, she blurted, "Your wounds must be closed so they will heal properly." Was that her voice? It sounded so detached, so alien.

Sheppard blinked slowly, tried to focus. "Where—" A wince. "Where are my pants?" His gaze jumped to the bunkered ceiling. "'Cause if the airline lost my luggage…" There was a pained swallow, the words raw and hoarse and shaky, riding a wave of half-gasped breaths. "Have to…to buy all new stuff."

"Your clothes were filthy, and were disposed of."

"Oh." His attention returned to her face. "Are you the good cop, or the bad cop?"

"I do not understand your terminology," she said crossly.

"Bad cop." Sheppard sighed, seemingly resigned. "What I don't get is how K-kirk grabbed a girl in every port…planet…dive bar that he came ac-cross, and here I a-am in the Pegasus Galaxy…all the chicks I meet want to f-fillet me and p-put my b-bones out for Sunday brunch."

"Had you not come, the Wraith would still be sleeping."

"The Wraith…only intel I had going in…a kid's mask, a couple of Darts, and a few DV moments. Didn't know. Couldn't leave my people in the h-hands of the e-enemy. Your father…was a mistake. I'm sorry…can't ch-change the p-past."

The human was mocking her. Making light of her pain. Sheppard was their leader, it was he who should pay the price for the injustice done to her family. Stripping off her bloodied uniform, Sora climbed up on the cot and straddled the human's chest. Bending close, she murmured, "Yet you abandoned him, didn't you, Major?"

He was staring at her bare legs and stomach, eyes narrowed in a sort of fascinated horror, and when she ran one hand down his chest, he jerked like she'd just shoved a blade through his flesh. "No…wait," he mumbled, shrinking from any contact. "I didn't order this ch-channel…well, maybe I did awhile back, but it's been cancelled. Cable company goofed…wrong…this is all wrong!"

Keeping her hand moving, she slowed when a flinch revealed tender ribs. "You left him to die," she repeated softly, twirling the soft hair she encountered between her fingertips. "Say it, Sheppard."

The human inhaled and shook his head. "Yes, but on Cowen's order. How many damn times do I have to repeat myself?"

Sora moved in a slow, deliberate crawl, draping her hips over the towel. His skin was damp and warm, all the muscles tensed to show off a nice, firm line. "Do you really believe you can continue this ploy of resistance for many more days?"

Before he could respond, she palmed the vial hidden at her waist, jabbed the needle into the inside of the major's elbow, forcing the syringe's contents into his body. His gasp was barely more than a breath, and she watched the coherence in his eyes dim, diluted by the serum. Resistance would now be curbed, as struggling only hastened this particular drug's effect. It took time for thoughts to be blocked, time for her plan to succeed.

"What…why?" Sheppard whispered, the tension beginning to unknot in his arms and legs, wrists going slack within the manacles. "Thought the whole point of torture…was pain b-being the…the mean…dropping your ordinance is way outside n-normal variance. It'll wear off…I'll remember eventually. And Kolya might n-not like you flying solo."

"I have another agenda."

"Agenda? Hell, you and Mr. Polter-rasp could p-publish right now. Do a How-To on 'Gate sorties and the best recipe for atomizing your neighbor in five easy-bake nukes or less." He blinked, pupils beginning to dilate again. "You…you c-can't be thinking what I think y-you're thinking."

She smiled. "It will ensure our victory against the Wraith, plus unravel the string of your secrets. I believe the commander will be pleased."

The Atlantian chuckled softly, choked exhalations turning a hysterical edge to the sound. "How do you propose…to get there and back?"

Running her hand down the flat expanse of his belly, Sora studied the hazy expression of her captive, knew all he could see now were soft lines and fuzzy shapes. Warmth would be creeping along his extremities, filling his insides with a mad rush of heat and confusion. Cheeks flushing, muscles pliable as dough, the time had come and she stripped away the towel in one fitful tug. Only the thinnest of fabric separated them now. "I propose to obtain your gene, Major. The one Kolya believed we already had, which you and I know to be an erroneous assumption."

"You can't!" The syllables, more thinly spoken than the last, faded quickly.

Her intentions were all that she could taste or smell or hear. Heart rate soaring, Sora lowered her hips, letting her legs drape the outside of his thighs. "I will accomplish my mission," she vowed. "Do you doubt my word, or ability?"

"No…n-n-no!" Face twisting in desperate urgency, Sheppard tugged at the shackles binding his wrists, and slurred, "…shit! Listen, you can't…do this."

"It is too late for platitudes, Major." With a rocking motion, she lowered her pelvis until she could feel the warmth of him beneath her, his damp skin no longer scented with sweat. Sora put her face to his chest and breathed in the faint, musky, soap-scrubbed smell, feeling a heat through her veins. Sheppard had tilted his head back, and was taking great interest in the ceiling. "Do you find me unappealing?" she dared. His head shook a slow negative against the pillow, throat working around a harsh swallow, as if she'd taken her hand and half-crushed his windpipe. "Then this need not be difficult. It will go easier if you are relaxed."

"Relaxed…f-funny." He snickered, a choked sound degenerating into an explosive whimper drawn from deep under his heaving ribs. "I'm bombed out of my skull."

"Not all sensation has been blunted." Her eyes traveled to where they now touched. He was pleasant to look at, and her fingers paused at the junction of his navel, twirling lightly in the dark expanse of hair that trailed lower, let them linger there a moment.

Sheppard grimaced, squinted into the space above their bodies. "Thought you were…already h-hitched."

"I am betrothed, not wed."

"There's a…a…" Her fingers danced lower, and his voice pitched abruptly higher. "…difference?"

Sora followed the contour of his body, settling on a soft, warm spot. Sheppard made a strange sound, and tried to flatten into the mattress. Removing the last barrier separating them with twist of her wrist, she brought her other hand to cup the part of his anatomy needing the most convincing.

Eyes squeezed shut, Sheppard's breath was catching, shudders beginning to wrack his limbs. "B-been a long time, you know…last place I was stationed sat on a chunk o-of ice, but I digresss…digression is what I do…and we shouldn't do this…surely…wrong time of the m-month or something, and when…when McKay finds out, I'll n-never hear the end of ittttt!" Her fingers became more persistent, creative in their goal. He twitched, hands splayed open, gasping and mumbling to himself. Not looking at her. No matter, she would win.

"No, McKay can't k-know…ever…nobody can know…'cept maybe Steve… shoulda introduced you…bold of l-light-ning meets flux capacitor…you two would've m-made the perfect c-c-couple. Okay, he's sort of…of dead, might not b-be a good first d-date…except on the WB. Dead guys there seem to see a lot o-of action."

She lowered herself down slowly, warmth and pressure building, a tingling rush spreading across every nerve. Sheppard arched up against her, following in her wake whether he wished it or not. And when the warmth came, with a crackle of sound and flares of brilliant light, the major screamed. Not a sound of pleasure, but of pain. Panting to catch her breath, Sora studied him. He was breathing fast and hard, eyelids so tightly shut that tears were being squeezed out to drip down the sides of his face, mixing with sweat to drench the pillow beneath his head. Cheeks flushed over pale, stubble-shadowed skin, the man appeared as if he'd just endured another torturous interrogation session. Her muscles had turned to liquid, basking in the lingering pleasure, but the human truly was hurting. Odd.

"Look at me," Sora commanded hoarsely.

His lids scrunched tighter. "Go to hell!"

Allowing her weight to settle against his chest, she smiled as his wheezes became more labored. Good. He deserved to suffer. "I will not move until you look at me, Sheppard."

Shuddering, the major blinked away the remaining tears, though the pain remained branded in his eyes. Arms still secured above his head, his muscles were now rigidly tensed despite the drug, shackles riding low on his wrists, the skin underneath bleached nearly white, with dark abrasions visible around the edges. He shivered, muttering thickly, "Can't have that, can we?"

"My father is not yet avenged, Major," she murmured, basking in the cocoon of shared body heat. "But you may consider this a partial payment of the debt you owe me."

He squinted, and grated harshly, "I don't owe y-you a dime!"

"Consider yourself lucky," Sora snapped back. "My father suffered far worse at the hands of the Wraith!"

"You don't know what the goddamn hell you're talking a-about! You-weren't-there! He…he could've died quick!"

"That is not their way!"

"It's not my way either!" His voice cracked unevenly. "I was with Cowen, and by his order we bugged out!"

"I don't believe you," she said coldly. She took a deep breath, striving to hold onto the calm detachment that had been so easy a moment ago, yet was beginning to slide from her reach. The sharp tang of sweat was filling the air around them again, the major's muscles quivering under the weight of her limbs.

"I-I'm telling y-you th-the truth, Sora." His eyes struggled to remain open. "Not m-my p-problem any-m-more."

She drew away slightly, considering his claim. Only for a moment, as she found she couldn't forgive him. Not merely her father…the many members of their strike force killed by the major's hand as well. No, she didn't pity the human. Nor abide his treachery. "We shall see, Major. Perhaps now, you will be more forthcoming about information vital to the Genii cause."

Sheppard's eyes widened, clearing to a reflective green sheen. The look in them hardened, pain compartmentalized to stir a simmering anger. "Like hell I will, you bitch!"

His half-closed fist shot toward her, a blur of motion connecting with her chin before she could stop it. Sora felt her head snap back, an explosion of harsh light blinding her, sweeping away her plans, her mission. She'd failed. Allowed a prisoner to escape. The force of the blow toppled her off the gurney, washing away all color and burying her in a deep sea of blackness. Where hate had no form, and forgiveness could never be channeled. And just before it engulfed her completely, she thought she heard the major whisper in her ear, his words faint but determined.

"'Welcome to the party, Cadet.'"

THE END

Sort Of. Look soon (I hope) for part two, Home By The Sea.

References/Quotes copyrighted to their rightful owners:

Hotel California by The Eagles

'Dogs and cats living together': Bill Murray in Ghostbusters

Obvious referrals to Back To The Future, The Wizard of Oz, Green Goblin, Scooby Doo, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and Soylent Green

'I see dead people': Joel H. Osment in The Sixth Sense

And last but not least: 'Welcome to the party, pal.' Bruce Willis in Die Hard