A/N: Now robins are stalking me. I just don't get it.

Disclaimer: BiteMe Techie has graciously let me borrow Dr. Lydia Winter from her fic Retribution! . ( Which I suggest you go read!) Hopefully I didn't butcher her.

Chapter 5

Power in Atlantis is… weird. The Ancients didn't exactly put three-prong plugs in all the rooms in anticipation of our arrival. So in the corner of in front of the Ancient outlet was this mass of… stuff the size of a throw pillow designed to adapt the power to work with Earth appliances.

Was MacGyver secretly lurking in the bowels of the city? Because it certainly looked like it. A little glint of silver caught my eye. I peered in the open-topped box to see what looked suspiciously like an uncurled paper clip among a mass of wires and little square things that ultimately led to an Earth tech compatible plug.

Was that… duct tape?

Not wanting to know, I plugged in the power cord to my laptop. Anything mechanical, electrical, or that requires engineering beyond the most basic of repairs escapes me so I was not going to prod around in the adaptor.

So after taking a half hour shower, I finally let the music blare on the speakers I had gotten for my laptop and sang to my favorite songs in my fuzzy yellow robe as I looked for clothes to throw on for the rest of the night.

My quarters was one of those open floor plans, which was okay. Not my favorite, but it was within walking distance of everything I needed to go to on a daily basis – mainly the lab and mess hall – so I wasn't about to complain.

Being careful to keep the towel wrapped around my hair on, I bounced and sang O.A.R.'s "Sail Away,' and dug in a drawer for my tan cotton knee-length shorts. They were one of the most comfortable pants I ever bought. Maybe because they were a little baggy on me.

But they were nowhere to be found.

I was still looking for them when "New Beginning' came on, and getting very, very, angry.

My hands and neck itched like hell since I had yet to put the cream on.

They weren't in the drawer they should've been in, and I knew I hadn't worn them since I've been there…

Unless the funky Ancient furniture ate them, I had no idea where they were.

I did pack them, right?

I turned and bent down to look under the bed.

What the hell were they doing there? I crawled halfway under and got them, the towel falling off my head in the process.

A low scream of frustration exploded out of my lips. It just hadn't been my day. I stormed over to my laptop and ended up playing 'Private Eye.'

I pulled the shorts on under my robe, and set out to do my hair as I continued to belt out lyrics, wondering just how sound proof the walls were…

My neck and hands continued to take up most of my thoughts because of the insane flare of itching. My skin looked devilish in bright red blotches. I really needed to get the cream on, but then I couldn't touch anything.

Unless.

I launched out of my chair to a storage box in the corner just as "At the right place and the right time I'll be dead wrong and you'll be just fine…" came over the speakers.

Giggling, I pulled out a pair of nitrile lab latex gloves.

Sure, they were purple, but whatever.

Call it my piece of flare.

After I successful had them on over the cream, I turned attention back to my hair. I ran product through and pulled it into a loose low bun, but off my neck.

I grabbed a simple fitted green tee shirt and a light zipped sweater, still debating whether or not to go to the mess hall. A quick glance as I put on my watch showed it nearing ten, just about the latest I would eat. If I didn't go now, it would be hours until breakfast…

My stomach rumbled in reply, and an angry stomach is not a good stomach to have.

I threw on the basics of make up, grabbed a lip balm, pen, and a notebook, shut everything off, and left.

I passed my hand over the crystals to close the door, silently cursing my bad luck in not having the ATA gene and the gene therapy not working for me.

The transporter's my favorite piece of technology. Way better than an elevator. Sure, a little scarier but the Ancients built it and the Stargates, so I had trust in them.

And there wasn't that funky stomach flip thing when an elevator stopped. I hate that feeling.

Climbing the four lighted steps into the mess hall after the transporter doors opened, it registered that in the main room there was one pack of laughing people at a table near the kitchen, and a few random trios and single people. The nooks and crannies of the area to the left could have contained more people though.

"Hi." My voice automatically became sweet and pleasant as it called into the kitchen behind the counter. I recognized one of the two guys that were on kitchen duty as the same one that's been there every night I have.

He broke conversation with the woman and came up to the counter, "What can I do for you?"

"Do you have anything you can just get quick but that's pretty substantial?"

I could see him thinking, "Yeah. There's some pesto left, I could heat it up for ya."

"Thanks so much."

He disappeared into the kitchen and I eyed the grab-and-go food lineup at the end of the counter. There were a lot of odd looking fruits I really didn't feel like exploring. The most exotic fruit I've ever eaten was at 11pm after coming back in the cold of winter from the grocery store across the river. I somehow resisted the urge to spit the kumquat out and never ate anything my friend offered me again.

Except the oatmeal cookies.

Ooo and those wildberry Rice Krispie treats.

And the Thai noodles.

However, there was a stack of brownies and I could never resist brownies, so I grabbed a plate. It also got filled with a chocolate pudding and granola bars by the time he returned with my pesto.

I took it, "Thanks." My voice did that stupid polite thing again.

"No problem." He eyed my purple latex gloves apprehensively.

With a fork, napkins, a glass of juice, and laughing covertly at his reaction, I set out to scope a hiding place to eat quietly.

I passed the pack of laughing people, a twinge of jealously rising but then beat back by my logical brain, and found a small table just off into the more hall-way like area.

The pesto was over spiral noodles and pretty damn good. Or maybe it seemed so good because I hadn't ate since brunch. Either way I was gobbling it down and not caring if I looked like a pig since no one was around anyway. I surveyed my surroundings every so often to make sure.

The purple spiral notebook I brought with me was worn around the edges and the back cover had fallen off but I stubbornly still brought it along anyway as if it was still on. I flipped to the last page to refresh my memory of what was last written.

My brain was just as stubborn as I was and nothing remotely connected to the horror novel I was writing came to me, so I started doodling on the page.

"Hello."

I practically jumped out of my skin and looked up to see Major Cutie in front of me. With a tray. "Hi!" ell out of my shocked mouth and after a breath I calmed my voice down, "What's uh, what's up?"

"I saw you sitting here and thought I'd come over…" I guess the bruising on the nose itself wasn't bad, but now there was a little under his eyes. I felt soo utterly terrible.

"Oh, uh…" Was he expecting to stay? "Do you want to sit?"

"Sure." He pulled out the chair and promptly lowered himself on it.

What the frak was he doing? Why would he want to socialize with me? I looked around to see if anyone was around enjoying the little joke and found no one. "You're not going to need surgery are you?"

"No, Dr. Beckett said it should be fine on its own." He set out eating his pesto.

I quickly closed the notebook and hoped he didn't ask about it, "Did I mention I was sorry?"

"Yes. Repeatedly. But I don't mind hearing it again."

"Funny, Major. Really."

"What's with the gloves?"

"They're for the hydrocortisone. I didn't want to walk around and leave a trail on everything I touched."

"Good idea. About today, no one's first mission is perfect."

The sudden change in topic caught me off guard, "It was a disaster."

"There was good food, conversation, everyone made it back, and no one shot at us. That's what I call a good mission." He countered as he ate.

"So you call getting chased by giant black rabbits a good thing?"

He shrugged, "We're the only ones who can say that."

"But, it was all my fault."

"It could've been worse."

"Yeah, but still." Ooo smooth, Crysta. Smooth.

"I could say you'll laugh about this someday but you might tackle me again."

I ignored the corner of his lip raised in amusement, "There was no tackling involved! And what were you doing so close to me anyway?"

"My plan was to keep you from falling on your face, I didn't picture me being the one falling."

"Unless you have a crystal ball, you can't know what's going to happen."

"I know we're about to be interrupted."

My eyebrows rose wondering what that was about when a woman appeared at the side of the table with hair that wasn't quite blonde, but had this red caramel tone going on. "Hey, Major. And…"

"Dr. Santella." I replied and extended my hand to her.

She gave it a firm shake, "Lt. Cadman. So you're the one the guys took off world today." She eyed my gloves and Major Lorne's nose, "Didn't go too well?"

I stifled a groan and slumped in my seat, intent on picking at what was left of my pesto.

Major Lorne answered, "It did, with a couple minor incidents on the way to brunch."

"Anything interesting?"

I mumbled, "Have you seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail?"

"Yeah…" She drawled.

"Imagine the killer rabbit's black cousins the size of cars." The poor pesto was getting torn to shreds by my fork.

"No Black Beast of Arrrggghhh?" She asked light heartedly.

"Thank god." For some reason I couldn't stop mumbling.

Oh right, the embarrassment factor.

Major Lorne looked back and forth at the two of us, "Do I even want to know?"

We looked back at him. I sat up in shock. "You've never seen it?"

"Inconceivable." Lieutenant … Cadman? added with her jaw practically on the floor.

"No…" He looked a tad uncomfortable. I didn't blame him since we couldn't take our eyes off him in sheer astonishment.

"I have it."

Cadman snapped her head around so she was looking at me, "We are so having a movie night."

"Yeah. It'd be fun." What? "Not tonight!"

"Course not, Doctor. There are things that have to be done, people to tell. How's tomorrow?"

"Uh, it should be fine…"

"Okay, I'll contact you sometime tomorrow, Dr. Santella." She stepped off and called behind her, "We'll be expecting you, Major."

"What? Cadman!"

She kept walking so Major Lorne, long done with his food, excused himself and went after her.

What the hell just happened?

Did I just get roped into sitting around with a bunch of… military?

It's not that I have a problem with soldiers, hell I even kinda wanted to be in the Air Force until my grandfather told me, in not so many words, he'd disown me if I enlisted or went to Academy for any branch of military.

Since he had been a Tech. Sergeant in the 22nd Fighter Squadron, I couldn't exactly go against him. Granted it was in WWII, but still. He was bitter about it so I thought it was best not to aggravate him over something I wasn't sure about anyway.

When my best guy friend announced he was enlisting in the Marines, it took about a second for tears to fall out of fear for him, and I realized I really didn't want to be in the Air Force.

And now I'm surrounded by people who did want to, I was in just as much danger out here than I would have been in the Air Force on Earth, and it was really, really, odd.

It wouldn't be so bad to not be surrounded by scientists for a change…

After making a stop in my quarters, making sure I even brought the movie, adding my laptop and speakers to the pack I had taken off world, I headed out to the lab.

It was empty, exactly what I was hoping for.

Since the debriefing was at 8, I'd have to catch some sleep in a couple hours, preferably by 1. If I had it my way, I'd stay up until 3, sleep until 11, and then go to work. I don't get the whole go-to-work at dawn thing.

It just doesn't seem right. Besides, all my best work gets done long after the sun sets.

My work station was just how I left it, with a stack of papers in the corner and my beaker mug complete with mL markings and the remains of cherry Kool-Aid from the previous night. On the chair, I heavily put down the pack and pulled out the Dell, wondering if it would ever work again.

Highly doubting it, I opened the cover to let it dry overnight, set up my Vaio and speakers, and started playing the 80s playlist. The first song was 'Take on Me.' Gotta love being a teenager in the 80s. Though I avoided the whole big hair thing. I was neither Romy nor Michelle.

I moved the pack, plopped down on the chair, and started to review the noted from the day so I could sum up the Stineans' level of biochemistry advancement in a way that would not make me seem like a blathering idiot in front of Dr. Weir.

Approaching midnight, I changed the playlist to more modern, sans all the modern pop and rap that will never ever be part of my collection. It was all rock for me.

'This Could Be Love' started, and I couldn't help but to sing with it as loud as I could. As the second chorus was blasting, I caught movement at the door. Some woman in glasses was standing there looking strangely amused.

I paused the song since I was sure belting out 'play in my blood' wouldn't give a good first impression. "Hi."

"You didn't have to stop it. I've heard worse." She moved further in the lab, her hair swept into a bun at the top of her head with a… neon green pencil.

"Like what?" A song with lyrics about someone slitting your throat and cutting off fingers usually phases people…

"Some choice Alice Cooper, like 'Feed my Frankenstien'."

"Oh. That would explain your not being freaked out by the song. Most people start looking at me like I belong in a sanitarium." I picked up my beaker mug and took a sip of the cherry Kool-Aid partly because I was thirsty and partly for something to do with my hands while talking with this strange woman that appeared out of nowhere.

"I'll be the last one to look at anyone like that. Nice mug."

"Thanks." I put it down and extended my hand, "I'm Dr. Santella."

She took it, "Dr. Winter. I've been down the hall listening to your music and decided to check it out."

Oh god. I could've sworn it was at a reasonable level. "It was that loud? I'm sorry if it bothered you."

"It didn't."

"Where were you?" Maybe she was just next door or something.

"My lab in the physics block. You're here pretty early."

Er… that was pretty far away. It's a wonder security didn't come get me. "If you call midnight early." I glanced at the clock in the corner of my laptop's screen for the bjillionith time.

Confusion set in under her glasses, "It's midnight?"

"Yep. What time did you think it was?"

"Morning sometime. Six maybe."

"Wow, you're way off." The max I've been wrong about the time ever is about an hour.

"Yeah. It happens a lot." She admitted while adjusting her hair. It amazed me how she could get it to stay like that with just one little pencil.

"Maybe you could use a clock."

"Hmm… it'd have to have big flashing numbers and a voice announcing the time every hour for it to be any use."

"But it'd have to be a cool voice." If you're going to go that far, you might as well enjoy it.

Her face lit up, "Like Frank N. Furter."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Inigo Montoya." I know every one of his lines. Actually, I know all the lines.

"But then you'd need Fezzik too."

"Ooo Westly. I loved Westly." His voice I could listen to all day. When the movie came out, instead of 'yes,' I'd say 'as you wish' until everyone was considering burying me in the backyard.

She humphed, "Buttercup was one lucky girl."

"What about Mulder?" I suggested.

"I'd go with Langly."

"No Byers?" Sometimes, you can have the strangest of conversations with people you hardly know and just click. Who else in Atlantis could I talk to about Rocky Horror, The Princess Bride, and The Lone Gunmen, and not freak them out with my music in the middle of the night?

"Might as well add him to the mix, have all three announce the time."

Leaning back in my chair, I mused, "I haven't seen The Lone Gunman for so long, I can't believe I don't have it. Is it even released?"

"Yeah. A few years back. Jeeze, and you call yourself a fan. What's wrong with you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" It would've taken years to explain the inner workings that is me.

"If it'd be interesting."

"I highly doubt it'd be. And I don't have the time anyway." My eyes flashed to the clock on the screen yet again.

"Oh! I'm bugging you."

"No, actually. It was about time for a break." I had only read about a paragraph worth of text in the last ten minutes anyway.

Dr. Winter gestured to the Dell that was sitting open, but off, "Uh, what's that doing?"

"Drying."

"Why?"

"Because I spilled Pegasus Dew on it." I deadpanned.

"Pegasus Dew?"

There was that look of thinking I was nuts. I knew it'd come out at some point. "Yeah. Just one of a long string of events today."

"Did you get all of it out?"

"I think so."

"It has a chance then. I got work to do on the ZPM…" Words followed but once she said 'Lemmon hypothesis' I was completely lost. "See ya around."

"Bye."

Shaking off the confusion at the utter randomness that was Dr. Winter, I set to work wondering if there had been another day in my life that I had met as many new people.

My eyes started drooping to the point I was losing concentration at precisely 12:36am, so I turned down the volume, laid my head on the table and closed my eyes for a brief respite.

Only to be disturbed by someone was shaking my arm. "It's time to wake up."

Grunting, I responded, "It's too early." I just wanted to sleep a little longer… though the pillow seemed awfully hard…uh…I begrudgingly I opened my eyes and looked up to see none other than my boss. "Dr. Accent!" My eyes went wide, "Beckett." I gave my head a good shake to wake it up hoping he didn't catch that.

"Accent, lass? Have you been here all night?"

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, grateful I had LASIK and didn't have to deal with contacts anymore, "Yeah, uh… I guess. My mouth sometimes doesn't connect with my brain right away after waking up." I pleaded silently for him to take that as the reason, and not that it was my secret nick-name for him.

"Odd how you picked that of all things."

"Yeah, well… what time is it?"

He answered with a look of confusion, "Half past seven."

"What!" I patted around on my desk, "I have to go, I got a meeting… debriefing…We've got a debriefing." I gathered up my notebook and a few sheets of paper, noticing the music was still playing and quickly turned off my computer.

"I'm quite aware of that…" Now he had this air of amusement about him. I didn't see what was so gorram funny.

I took a deep breath. Okay. I was good. All I needed to do was wash up, brush my teeth, and I'd be set... and change since I had been seen in those clothes, and look over my notes again… "I'll see you then, Dr. Beckett." With a quick smile I rushed out of the lab and made it to my quarters in about a minute, thanks to the transporter, hoping not to be late for my first debriefing.

FIN

Songs: O.A.R. - Sail Away

Trapt - New Beginning

Alkaline Trio - Private Eye, and This Could Be Love

A-ha - Take On Me

A/N: Well, hope you all enjoyed my little trek in the SGA world. Since the day was over, I figured I should end it. Though there is an epilogue idea if people want.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! It means a lot to a little 'ol writer.