~ 6 ~

Okay, it's only been less than twelve hours since I broke it off with John, and I feel great. Not just great, but really great. I got up this morning and went for a jog around the city, listening to my music, letting it pump through my blood. And suddenly, my muse returned. Yes!

I'm going to the gym to create a new skate routine. I always used to dance the routine at least a dozen times before trying it out on the ice, that way I didn't forget the steps and suddenly stumble. Once I get to the skating part, I tend to make changes, throw in a few more twists and spins, maybe a double or triple, but the actual footwork generally stays the same. I haven't felt this rush of excitement in a long time. Not since I first got out on the lake on I-zoola.

It's this thing with John. I've been so tense, worrying even…I know it had to be the addiction setting in. It's the only thing that makes sense. But now that I've severed the strings, I feel free. I don't understand it, but I'm actually…euphoric.

I've always enjoyed working out, but the intricate details that put a routine together sends me to a different place. My imagination feels unearthly, like I'm a bird gliding through life with no worries.

It's better than chocolate. Better than… don't go there.

I'm not thinking about him. I'm not.

Okay, I am a little. It was really difficult last night. I went back to my room, pulled the sheets off my bed and stuffed them in the hamper. And even though I remade the bed with fresh sheets, even a different color, I couldn't lie down to sleep. The panic attack still hadn't released its hold on my heart and my brain was betraying me with memories of…everything.

I went for a walk instead. Ended up on Ronon's pier and watched the sunrise. It was spectacular to say the least. I cleared my mind and just sat their enjoying the nature, the beauty of Atlantis as the pinks and oranges of the new day kissed the city.

It's my fault, I know. And I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I swear. I feel bad for John. I did this to him. Not on purpose, but does that really matter?

I'm sure the cold turkey idea sounded harsh to him, but how else can we get each other out of our systems. I read the report…it's not that hard to follow even with all the scientific mumbo-jumbo. Lust-o-rama device is evil. It's an evil little rock-like thing that McKay is going to pay dearly for either in this life or the next.

It was only intended for wedded bliss and disgusting amounts of gooey love, not, well, strictly naked bliss. I don't get all the chemical interactions and stuff…even if I read a whole library on it, I probably still wouldn't understand it, just because I can memorize something doesn't mean it automatically makes sense. Science has never been my strong suit. All I do know is that I have to stay away from him.

For his sake.

You like him.

Well, that much is obvious. I wouldn't have been so eager to bump and grind with someone I didn't like… no matter how hot he might be. I mean, lets face it: Bates was a good-looking guy before the Wraith beat the crap out of him… but a total asshole. Never would have let him touch me.

You care about him.

Of course I do. John's a nice guy. And in this case, I'm not going to let him finish last. He deserves to be happy.

I mean, how horrible would it be for him when Dr. Weir finally realizes what she's been missing out on and then he can't go to his heart's desire because of me. He'd end up hating me. And maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't like it when people hate me. I've had enough of that for one lifetime.

As I spin and leap through the air, I don't know where this energy spurt came from, but it's breathtaking and refreshing. I even manage a graceful back flip and ariel layout. My ariel's have never been that spectacular, I always have that moment of panic that 'hey, my head is near the floor, my feet are near the ceiling, but my hands are not out to protect me' moment. But then I land on my feet and can't help the smile. I just did a kick-ass flip.

I feel great!

Suddenly there's applause and I spin, seeing Ronon in the door. I skip over to him like a little kid and give him a hug. "How was that?"

He nods appreciatively. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You should see it when I'm on skates. Very dangerous." Actually, I never had the guts to try one while on skates. The massive head trauma has never been high on my list of experiences I need to try.

"I bet. Are you hungry?"

I nod side-to-side. "I could eat."

Surprisingly, he leans out in the corridor and picks up a basket. "How 'bout a picnic on the pier."

I grin at that. "You read my mind."

On the outside, Ronon's this big gruff warrior, Tarzan man. And I wouldn't come up on him in a dark alley. But on the inside, he's a puppy. A rough-housing giant horse of a puppy, but a puppy none the less.

He spent seven years without companionship, always one step ahead of the Wraith. Even I had the feds to talk to once in a while. Not to mention Ryan's company. He had nothing. The fact that he survived all that isn't what's surprising; it's the fact that he's now willing to share his time with me. I'm not exactly the nicest person to be around most of the time. And we did get off to a rocky start.

But he kept at me until I gave into the fact that I liked him. He didn't take my crap and was there for me when I needed him most. The fact that I remind him of his long, lost sister and he's like a brother to me is beside the point. He's good to me. Even when he's kicking my ass.

~ 6.5 ~

It's been a while since he's watched her dance. She's been preoccupied by other things… another person for several weeks now. At first he was concerned that Sheppard would somehow take advantage of her, but he should have known better. Angie would never permit that to happen.

In fact, it seems Sheppard was the one on the pointy end of the sword. The guy looked truly pained when Ronon asked how things were going and Sheppard informed him that she had put an end to their arrangement. Ronon was tempted to ask for more details, but Sheppard wasn't in the mood to talk about it.

Ronon figured the best thing to do is talk to Angela, make sure she's all right, so he can hold up his end of the deal with Jack. If Sheppard did hurt her in any way, he's not getting away with it. She's smiling a lot, almost giddy with energy and it doesn't look like a cover.

They sit in the sun facing each other. She curls her legs to the side and digs into the basket. "What'cha got?"

"Something called tuna."

She grins. "I love tuna!" She pulls out the two sandwiches and hands him one. Then she grabs the water bottles and some fruit. "Grapes? You think of everything healthy."

"Actually…"

"Teyla made the lunch," she smirks and laughs.

His brows crease. "How'd you know?"

She pulls out a napkin that has: 'Enjoy your lunch, Teyla' written in ink. She laughs at his embarrassment. "It's okay, Ronon. It's the thought that counts. So," she takes a big bite of her sandwich, chews and swallows. "What'cha want?"

"I have to want something?" She nods, her eyes wide with amusement. He meets her gaze. "I ran into Sheppard this morning." Ronon bites into his sandwich, enjoying the taste.

Her brows rise. "Oh." She eats some more while he waits for her to add to the conversation. "It's not his fault," she says quickly. "No pummeling necessary. It's just…for the best."

"I thought you liked him."

"I do," she squeaks. "That's why we can't see each other anymore."

"I don't understand."

She sighs, sliding her jaw to the side and narrowing her gaze at him. "Remember the headache you got after the water balloon fight?" He nods. "We were getting them too."

"Why?"

"It's a withdrawal symptom. If we aren't together practically all the time, we get…"

"What about now?"

"I don't think it's been long enough. Last one took two days to start, five to nearly kill me. I'm biding my time for the pain."

"Wouldn't it be wiser just to stay together?"

She cocks her head and wrinkles her brows together. "For the sake of sex?"

"Because you care-"

Her hand shoots up. "No. It's because I do that I'm letting him go. He doesn't want me. He wants Dr. Weir. You know that as well as I do. You see the way he looks at her." The next part comes out as a whisper, but he catches it. "How I used to look at Ryan, I'm sure."

"I've seen the way Sheppard looks at you as well."

"It's chemical, Ronon. He's not in his right mind. It's not real." She stuffs a grape into her mouth. "It can't be."

"Who are you trying to lie to? You know I can tell when you are."

Her eyes widen and she coughs. "Lying? About what? I read McKay's report on the doohickey."

"And?"

"Kind of dry…too scientific. No real characters."

"Angie," he growls.

"It said I'm a danger to John, okay. Like an addiction to a drug or something. Unhealthy."

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not. Now, how 'bout you stop grilling me and help me. The best way for someone to get over an addiction is to divert their attention from it. Talk to him. Tell him he has to tell Dr. Weir how he feels."

Now it's Ronon's turn to cough. "What?"

"It's important, Ronon. John needs to tell her. Otherwise he's just going to regret it." She drops her eyes to the water bottle and cracks the cap. "I'll always wonder 'what if'. What if I told Ryan I loved him? What if he hadn't died that day?" She sips her water then looks out over the ocean. Her voice is soft and he senses she's holding back tears. "If he could've loved me."

Ronon touches her chin, guiding her face back so he can look into her eyes. "I don't doubt that for a moment."

She grins again, but there's sadness in it. He's not completely sure it's all for the lost opportunities with Ryan, however.