SUMMARY: Harvesting some gates should have been simple, until Sheppard's team ran across a particularly obnoxious person. Missing scenes/tag for "Irresistible," from Sheppard's point of view.

PART FIVE

The plan had been simple and remarkably, it had worked like a charm and had been put into action before Sheppard had been rescued. Lure Lucius to the jumper under the pretense of the ATA gene therapy, where Sheppard would capture him. Beckett then went back to the infirmary and began inoculating people – some lame story about saving people from catching Sheppard's cold. Because that would take a bit of time, Sheppard had to spend several hours on the mainland until Beckett radioed him back with the okay to return.

By the time he'd flown back to Atlantis and handed Lucius over to some rather ticked-off looking Marines, Sheppard realized it had been over 24 hours since he'd managed a decent wink of sleep. He'd caught a brief catnap on board the jumper – maybe two minutes tops before his mind conjured up a horrible image of him telling Lucius that sure, he'd be glad to take him anywhere in the jumper, including any Hive ships in search of herbs. He decided to leave Lucius securely tied up to a tree outside just so he didn't have to listen to the man trying to talk himself out a really bad situation. The more the man talked about how he'd done no harm, the more Sheppard was tempted to commit harm. Lucius needed a serious reality adjustment, one that was gonna smack him in the face if they returned him to his homeworld. He'd leave that decision to Elizabeth as right now, leaving the man tied to the tree indefinitely sounded real good.

He'd been wary when he'd let down the jumper's rear hatch upon arriving back in Atlantis. He held the stunner pistol in hand, just in case. Beckett had been waiting there in the bay, smiling, but it wasn't the idiotic worship smile he'd had before, but more of a satisfied grin, one that grew broader and more meanginful as those four Marines dragged a protesting Lucius off to a not-so-deluxe suite in Wraith-cell central. With that damned uncomfortable plastic chair that hey, was probably too small for Lucius' much larger bulk. Payback was a bitch.

Elizabeth and his team were waiting in the jumper bay as well, looking a bit harried but also deservedly embarrassed.

"John," said Elizabeth with a weak smile.

Sheppard just cocked his head. He noticed she'd zipped her shirt all the way up. "Dr. Weir." Oh, he didn't need to be so formal and catty but he just couldn't help himself.

Elizabeth's lips thinned out as she held her crossed arms tighter against her chest. "Thank you for saving us from this…. "

"Disaster," finished McKay bluntly, finding the floor and the walls much more fascinating to look at than Sheppard.

"Uh huh," muttered Sheppard dryly. He sneezed loudly. "Damn. Carson, how much of the city is clean?"

"Over half," said the physician. "All your men received the injection and have those still under the influence under control, although they're all feeling some of the withdrawal symptoms but by tomorrow morning, everybody should be back to normal."

Sheppard hated to think of any of his people going through what Lucius' people had to going through right now on that distant planet. "How long will it take you to whip up enough to dose all of Lucius' people? He's not going back there till his influence is gone."

Beckett frowned. "At least a day, another to inoculate."

"You're sending him back?" said Ronon.

"I thought about making him walk the plank off the south pier," said Sheppard, "but I'm sure Elizabeth would bring up the Geneva Convention."

Elizabeth just arched an eyebrow. "Then he'll be our houseguest for the next two days at least."

"Prisoner," corrected Sheppard sharply. "I don't want him leaving that cell at all. And no visitors unless you get my approval."

"He can't harm anyone anymore," said Carson.

"He's done enough damage, wouldn't you say?" Sheppard countered with a grim smile.

There wasn't a single word of protest. Part of him had almost expected to hear it – Lucius' legions of worshippers had aggressively defended him against the one lone person who hadn't fallen under the influence all because he had a simple cold. God, it had all happened so fast, and so easily, that he doubted anyone would really sleep easily the next few days thinking about what could have happened.

He watched Elizabeth rub at her neck. The vision of how intimately that damned Lucius had touched her there came to mind, and his anger at how quickly they'd all caved to Lucius evaporated. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

She pulled her hand away, blushing slightly as she realized the implication of his worry. "I'm fine. It's just my pride that's wounded. I can't believe that we let this happen."

Sheppard switched his glance to Teyla, who had an expression similar to Elizabeth's. No, Lucius hadn't tried anything, except for the obvious marriage proposals. The way Elizabeth had been all over Lucius made Sheppard wonder if the damned man had decided to make her wife number eight. Oh, he was so not going there. He'd throw up his lunch, that is, if he'd had any. Had he? Oh yeah, half a blueberry muffin.

Ronon just shrugged in response. That was probably going to be all he'd have to say about the mess. The less said the better, that was the way the Satedan was, and Sheppard knew everybody wanted to forget the last day.

Rodney just looked depressed. Beckett had mentioned something about Jell-O runs.

"In a nutshell," continued Beckett. "The herb's effect is concentrated and very strong. And the smaller the body mass, the quicker the effect."

"But we are all now all right," said Teyla. She nodded confidently at Sheppard.

"And believe me, that's all I want to hear," admitted Sheppard tiredly. Everybody's pride was shot to hell, but there was no physical damage.

The abrupt sound of the gate's klaxons blared, startling everyone. Sheppard automatically brought up his P90, feeling a surge of adrenaline and the worry that the wraith had followed Ronon's team back to Atlantis after harvesting that damn weed.

"It's Major Lorne's team," came the technician's level voice over their headsets.

Thank God.

Sheppard went immediately to the gateroom with everybody following him. Normally that would be fine and he might not have even been really aware of the action, but right now it was sort of unnerving as it seemed they were all trying to make up for something that really - if he thought about it through his cold-stuffed head - wasn't their fault. If someone slipped you a mickey and you drank it unwittingly, it wasn't your fault that you passed out on the floor. This situation wasn't much different.

Even Lorne had detected something wrong when he came through the gate and saw everybody's faces. Sheppard gave him the Reader's Digest version of the whole fiasco. Lorne was pretty much 'bright-eyed and bushy-tailed' (Rodney's acerbic expression when he saw the soldier step through the gate) so he could deal with the mess for the next several hours. Sheppard was going to catch some ZZZ's before his head just imploded from the cold. However, he couldn't stop himself from spending the rest of the afternoon checking out everything, particularly his own men. He'd simply instructed the men (and women) that this herb was an unknown hazard of the Pegasus Galaxy but next time, let's all be more aware of what's going on around them. Any scientist under the influence wasn't that much of a threat – except for Rodney, who had already blown up part of a solar system – but his men had weapons and the knowledge to use them. Once satisfied – all the downtrodden expressions were a definite sign that Lucius' little reign was over – he turned over the 'reclamation effort' to Lorne, sneezed, and went back to his room.

The door to his room shut behind him. He stared at the skateboard off in the corner, then slid it slowly in front of the door. No, he wasn't being paranoid. It was just… he didn't know what it was, but what he did know was what now greeted his ears: blissful silence. No insufferably grating voices spinning deception and anarchy, or the fawning responses. A hot shower was definitely in order. He stared at the bathroom door, but it just seemed too far. He simply sat down on the bed, popped open the pill bottle Carson had given him and downed a couple of pills. The warning of 'operating heavy machinery' didn't apply right now. The gate harvesting could definitely wait. He gingerly rubbed fingertips at his throbbing temples. A moment later, he fell back on the bed and shut his eyes.

PART SIX

Major Lorne had the situation totally all under control. No casualties, just a lot of long faces and a hundred or so people who would probably be giving Colonel Sheppard as well as Lorne and his team a wide berth for the next day or two. The Colonel had looked pretty pissed off when he'd dashed into the gate room. He was obviously running on adrenaline and not enough sleep, but he was clear enough to give Lorne the once-over, proclaim him fit for further duty, and gave him the short but incredible story of how one obnoxious whacko had taken over the whole city in just a few hours.

While Sheppard hadn't given him every excruciatingly painful detail, it hadn't taken Lorne very long to figure out what had happened to each individual. People talked, amongst themselves, seeking absolution of some kind from someone else who had shared their horrible experience. Dr. Weir seemed to be holding it together pretty well, although she'd spent a lot of time talking with her top people – Beckett, McKay, Teyla and Ronon – as those in the control room and top echelon of Atlantis were affected the worst. They all seemed to be in some kind of mutual 'it wasn't your fault' club but we have to get back to business. It was like a bizarre twelve step meeting but he just stood quietly in the meeting and ran down security protocols.

Lorne was glad his team had had an easy mission to PL5 6S2. It had been a cakewalk, a very boring mission that hadn't yielded anything but no wraith, no disasters, so he and his team had actually come back refreshed. That gave him the energy to ensure that the entire city's complement was no longer under that Lucius' guy's influence. All of the military personnel were clean and they did a one-on-one headcount, dragging anybody hidden away in labs off to the infirmary for a date with a needle.

He'd finished filing a report, or rather, kept adding to the ongoing report on the "herb incident," as some folks were calling it. The SGC would call it a disaster that nearly happened: Lorne hadn't missed the dark expression on Sheppard's face when he'd mentioned Beckett leading a team on an impromptu visit to a wraith-occupied world. They were just so damned lucky….

For a single second, Lorne thought about calling Sheppard when he spotted Weir striding purposely down the corridor, some weird object in hand. He couldn't help but be curious and he did have to report to her, so he quietly followed. She went out on one of the many high balconies adorning Atlantis' massive tower. He stood back in the corridor, but watched silently as Weir held the strange object – some ugly black bulbous thing with a candle stuck in the top of it. She glared at it, and if looks could kill, that thing would be a pile of ashes. She suddenly emitted a deep growl of frustration and viciously lobbed the thing over the precipice. Okay, that was different.

Weir turned, embarrassment momentarily flushing her features when she realized she'd been seen.

"Major, is there something you need?" she coughed, but quickly resumed a more dignified pose.

"Just wanted to report back that all Atlantis personnel are on the mend." Lorne frowned, looking past her shoulder, still wondering what he'd just witnessed

"Thank you, major." Weir looked a tad bit uncomfortable at his focus. She glanced back at the open sky beyond. "It was just--," she began.

"If you don't mind my honest opinion, ma'am," interrupted Lorne. "I would have tossed it overboard too. Looked pretty ugly."

"Yes, definitely," she concurred.

Lorne got the distinct feeling that the ugly thing had something to do with the character they had locked up in the wraith holding cell.

Weir quickly regained her calmer, diplomatic composure. Whatever that thing was, deep-sixing it over the side seemed to have been therapeutic. She walked past him, that normal self-assured expression set firmly on her face. "And it definitely clashed with the décor," she added with a smirk.

Lorne just nodded in agreement. Of course.

PART SEVEN

He knew it. He'd just known it deep down inside his very being that it would all end badly: the fake ATA inoculation scam, Beckett showing up to help save Atlantis. It had all been a ruse to get him off his guard. He'd passed out in his room and the next thing he knew, several Marines just snatched him and dragged him back to the wraith cell, tossing him in without a care. Hours passed before Lucius showed up with Beckett in tow like an obedient little lap dog, just beaming in disgusting adoration at the nutjob who was compromising all of Atlantis.

Sheppard's stomach had bottomed out when several wraith came through that door behind Lucius, their pale and thin forms looking like specters of death. They fanned around, standing to either side of the men, smiling at him with evil intent. Beckett had grinned and offered himself up as a literal happy meal when one of those wraith grabbed him. "Anything for Lucius!" he'd shouted cheerfully a second before the wraith slammed his hand into the doctor's chest.

Sheppard awoke with a start, tangled in damp sheets. He sat up, realizing a second later it had just been a nightmare. Right, right, just a nightmare. Right? He felt himself for damage, then became aware that his uniform was gone. He could have sworn the last thing he'd done was taken some antihistamines for his clogged head. He had on his boxers and that was it. He rubbed a hand against his cheek, finding a fine growth of beard. How long had he been out? A glance at his watch, then at the window behind him, confirmed he'd been out a while because he sorta remembered it being daylight and now it was darkening. Did this mean he'd actually gotten a few hours sleep and things were fine, or had the entire base just gone insane during his unconscious state? No no, that was just being paranoid. He'd left everything in Lorne's capable hands and he trusted the man implicitly to follow his orders and keep the base safe.

He swung his legs over the bed and two things struck him: his sinuses actually felt better and his headache was gone. He hoped that this wasn't a dream as the headache had been a downright nuisance, but oddly enough, his cold had been a lifesaver.

After a hot shower and shave, he got dressed. He put back on his weapons belt but decided the P90 might be overkill. He stashed it under his pillow as nobody would think to look for it there, and in an action that wasn't routine, he hid the stunner pistol just inside his jacket. No, he wasn't being paranoid, just cautious. He stared at the door as though it were the gate to Hell. No, the dream had been just that - a bad dream, Things were fine, just fine. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

What the hell was a soldier doing standing outside his door? The young man was obviously guarding the door, and despite the fact that he looked no older than nineteen, he remembered this particular Marine coming off the Daedalus a couple months back. Deceptively small, he was lightning fast when it came to hand-to-hand combat and actually gotten out of Ronon's grasp once.

But right now, Sheppard wasn't sure if that bode good or bad for him. "Corporal?"

"Colonel." The young man looked rather relieved.

"What are you doing?"

"Dr. Beckett said you needed your rest after the, uh, situation." The young soldier coughed, looked slightly ashamed as he too had fallen under Lucius' influence. Who hadn't, it seemed, except him?

Okay, well, that was nice. He knew Beckett was probably taking it harder than the rest. After all, he'd brought Lucius back to Atlantis. "Um, you're dismissed." For a split second, the horrible thought occurred that the young man would turn into a Stepford clone and not leave, but instead, the man simply nodded and left.

Phew.

Sheppard glanced down both ends of the empty corridor. His stomach growled accusingly. Yeah, food was the first thing on order. He'd check in with Lorne after he'd eaten.

TO BE CONTINUED (one more part!)