(Sorry for the delay, everyone! Got a bit out of sorts last night, but all better today! Anyway, here's 12..)

MORE THAN JUST PRETTY FACES

By TIPPER

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CHAPTER TWELVE: FAITH

Rodney watched as Ronon finished talking quietly to Sheppard and Teyla before the two took off into the brush, frowning a little at the stiff way they were all moving. All three looked like they had been through hell and back, and, for the life of him, he had no idea why. Thing was, he wasn't even sure where they were at the moment. He vaguely recalled something about visiting some sort of jungle planet, and logic told him this was it, but, at the moment, he didn't even remember stepping through the stargate to get here.

Or flying through the stargate...Sheppard had said something about a jumper?

He looked around at the location in which they had chosen to hide—a tiny, claustrophobic space where a thick, healthy tree had grown straight and tall despite being encased by three massive boulders. It was right next to a flat, open bit of farmland (one of the nearby village's tilled fields, probably), easily large enough for a jumper to land. He wondered how far the jumper was. For that matter, how far was the Stargate? Hell, was the Stargate even on this planet?

God this sucked! How could he not know? He gritted his teeth, frustrated beyond belief. And in pain. Damn it, everything hurt...

And what was with their laughter about that? Normally he and Sheppard were on the same wavelength, but he felt like he was missing the beginning to a bad joke here...

He took in a shallow breath, feeling the tightness in his ribs, and glanced at the radio that Sheppard had pushed into his hands. It was sort of slimy. What did they do, dump it in goo? Speaking of which, what had happened to his earpiece...? His fingers drifted up to his ear, and brushed his neck, and then started to shake when he felt the sensitive edges of a wound. Ow! What the hell? Oh God...what the hell had happened to him?

His whole body shook then—he hated being in this sort of discombobulated state! Tiredness pulled at him, and he closed his eyes, wishing he was home and Beckett was fussing over him in the cool, dry infirmary...

Noise nearby had him opening his eyes again, finding Ronon leaning over him, all dreadlocks, steel jaw and one hell of a purple shiner. McKay shifted backwards unconsciously, to get away, his natural skittishness reacting to the close proximity, even though he knew full well there was nothing to fear from the former Runner. It was just...he was so big sometimes.

"We should set that," Ronon said, crouching down next to McKay on the ground, obviously sensing the nervousness he was causing. The scientist was sitting pressed against the thick tree trunk, body language fully on edge. The space they were in was more than large enough for two people to hunker down and wait...

But it felt very small to McKay right now.

"I...," he said, blinking a little, "What?"

"Your leg. It's a clean break. I can put it back in place pretty easily. Done it for myself lots of times."

McKay continued to stare at him without comprehension, "What?"

Ronon frowned a little, and reached a hand forward. McKay flinched again. That caused the frown on Ronon's face to grow annoyed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he growled.

McKay swallowed, then gave a weak, knowing smile. "Yes, you are. If you reset it, it'll hurt."

"It'll make you feel better when it's done. And it needs to be done."

McKay gave a half-smile, snorting a little. And when Ronon reached once more for his leg, he slid back again.

"McKay," Ronon snarled, his eyes unblinking, "Stop that."

The scientist's eyebrows rose, feigning innocence. "Stop what?"

"Do you trust me?" the Satedan asked, the anger leaving his voice. It was a plain-spoken, simple question...with huge implications.

McKay stared at him, meeting those eyes. A moment later, his shoulders relaxed, his heart-rate slowed, and his brow furrowed. Finally, his body recognized what the mind was telling it, what the mind knew instinctively.

And, brow still furrowed, he found himself simply nodding.

This time, when Ronon reached for his leg, he didn't move.

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Teyla ran, her natural sense of direction combined with her knowledge of this area leading them unerringly back to the jumper. Sheppard had been right—the cave was near the base of a small mountain that loomed directly over the village. They were barely half a mile from the village outskirts—she could even smell a little of the cooking that was going on. A glance at the sky showed it was nearing noon here.

That was a little shocking—they'd only been on this planet a little over four hours. It had seemed so much longer. Her watch had told her the time, but until she saw the sun again, it had not really registered.

Leaving Ronon and Rodney behind, Teyla had pulled on her memories of hunting around this area to avoid the main trails, while also aiming them in the closest thing to a straight line...back towards the rope bridge.

Her heart had beat faster at that thought, of crossing it again, but they had no choice. She assumed the villagers or the Wraith had righted it—at least, she hoped so. The villagers, at least, needed it. It was the only way across the ravine.

At the same time, she kept all her senses open for the Wraith. She couldn't feel any nearby, but she wasn't going to rely on that alone. Plus, if the villagers were still around...

Sheppard was a steadying force behind her, matching her footfall for footfall. He followed without question, letting her lead as he too scanned the forest around them for danger.

That sort of unquestioning faith was fortifying after everything that had happened. Her steps grew more confident, faster. She suddenly realized that Sheppard did this for all of them, and she wondered if he was conscious of it.

His faith in Teyla to lead, to not get lost and to be a steadying force when danger threatened, meant she did. His faith in Ronon to stay with them, to back them up and win the fight, meant he did. And his faith in Rodney to always see them through, to find that last minute solution and save their lives, meant he did.

It's why Sheppard was so damned good at being their leader. It also helped that he had all those qualities himself to a degree. Well...except that he did have a propensity to get lost.

She smiled a little at that, and the lift to her spirits propelled her to even greater speeds.

Suddenly, something out of the corner of her eye had her stopping abruptly. Sheppard staggered to a stop behind her, not questioning as she jumped off the goat-track they followed to check on something.

The P90 in her arms shifted higher up on her chest, and she grimaced down at the three bodies lying slumped on the ground before her. Villagers, all dried up to husks, their lives sucked from them by the Wraith. She recognized the outfit of one of them—it was a hunter she knew, and had liked. She had thought him a good man.

"Lie with the snake," Sheppard stated quietly by her side, "you get bit."

She glanced at him, then nodded once in agreement. Turning, she returned to the track and started running again. Her own steadying force ran close behind her.

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The bridge was, indeed, upright again. It swayed very slightly in the soft breeze, looking every bit as perilous and exposed as ever. However, it was not the thing occupying their attention as they crouched behind some brush on the edge of the ravine.

Sheppard breathed heavily, staring up at the sky on the opposite side.

Blobby was three times the size he had been when they saw him suck the power from those two Wraith darts down at the bottom of the mountain. The black mass swirled and swayed and shifted with the wind, almost mimicking the swaying of the bridge, and a soft sizzling sound sparked the heated air around them.

And there was no question over what he was hovering.

The energy creature was flying directly over where they had left the jumper.

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TBC...

What, you thought I was going to send Blobby away? Come on!