Disclaimers etc. in first chapter.

Author's Note: This one's pretty short, but I really wanted to end it where I did. The next one's not all that much longer, but I make up for it a bit in the last chapter! The end of this chapter is where my brain took a left turn I wasn't expecting, so... um, yeah.

That was, John reflected, possibly one of the best afternoons of his life. He and Elizabeth had bought coffee from a kiosk and spent the entire time walking up and down the Mall, talking. John was fascinated by her – even her adamant anti-military stance intrigued him, although he felt duty bound to try to change her point of view. He hadn't managed to broach the subject of their strange connection, although from the way she sometimes looked at him he was almost positive she felt it too.

He replayed the day in his head as he walked from the Metro stop towards Jack's house. She'd refused to give him her number, but they had agreed to meet the next day. He was nearly on Jack's steps when he stopped suddenly.

"Oh, shit," he muttered, fishing out his cell phone and scrolling through the phone book. What was her name? Joanne, Julia, J-something... Jenna! There it was! He'd completely forgotten about their lunch plans, and while he wasn't the least bit interested in her anymore (and how had that happened? He'd never been this wrapped up by one afternoon with one woman, at least one that didn't include sex) it bothered him to think of any woman being angry with him.

Distracted by the phone call he was about to make, he didn't hear the tell-tale sounds until it was too late. The tranquilizer dart struck home, and John fell heavily to the ground. As consciousness began to fade, he focused on the work boots that were approaching him, and thought that Jack would never let him live this down.

The man surveyed the steel door barring access to the attic. He'd gotten into the house easily enough, and none of the neighbors had remarked on his presence. But this door was something of an obstacle. She'd somehow had it installed without his knowing. And it appeared that all locks were on the inside.

Checking his watch, he judged that he still had a few moments before moonrise. He doubted much sound could penetrate the doors and walls of her attic room, but if her senses had heightened as the change began, she'd likely be able to hear him knock. If he was extremely lucky, there would still be enough of the human there to unlock the door.

Raising his hand, he banged once, twice, three times on the door, then called out, "Elizabeth!"

He waited a few seconds and was about to knock again when the door swung open and she looked out. Her eyes had already shifted, and she growled a question. "What the hell...?"

She didn't get to finish as he plunged the dart into her side. Her eyes went wide with shock, and then she dropped heavily at his feet.

Elizabeth woke with a pounding headache, and the feeling that she was forgetting something. The latter was normal – she could never remember what happened when she was a wolf – but the headache was different. She felt drugged and sluggish as well.

She heard a groan, and thought it must be herself, until she realized that it was coming from across the room. It took a monumental effort to raise her head, but when she finally did, she gasped.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, unconsciously echoing her words of the night before.

At her voice, John Sheppard looked up from his place opposite her. His eyes widened in shock, and he jerked forward. Brought up short by the chains on his arms and legs, he winced in pain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, incredulous. She sure as hell wasn't supposed to be in Jack O'Neill's basement. As soon as he had the thought, he realized he wasn't there either. He became uncomfortably aware of itchy straw beneath his naked backside about a second and a half before he became uncomfortably aware that he was naked.

From the expression on Elizabeth's face, she was reaching the same realizations about herself. She quickly hunched over, trying to protect herself from sight. Normally, John would have been quite interested in this turn of events, but somehow this didn't seem the time.

John looked around, attempting to get his bearings. They were in what appeared to be a large cage in an almost empty room. There were no windows, no way to tell the time of day, and the only door was at the opposite end of the room. Their cage took up the back half of the room, and along one wall was what appeared to be an old fashioned wardrobe.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked in a quiet voice.

John shook his head. "I don't know. I don't remember anything after walking home last night. What about you?"

"I was... in my attic, I think, and then... nothing."

The door to the room opened, and a man walked through. "That's an aftereffect of the tranquilizer, I'm afraid," he said in a gentle, quiet voice. "As for what's going on, well, I've collected you!"

John started to shout. "What do you mean you've – "

Elizabeth cut him off, staring at the man in shock. "Simon!"