Chapter 4

He stemmed the flow of blood. Finally. Now all Ronon has to worry about is infection… but he won't mention it. He releases her hand. "Ronon?"

"Need water."

"I can get it."

"Stay. I know where it is." Grabbing up a few of the strips of clothing, he slowly eases toward the sound of the running water. It's cool and refreshing as he sinks his hands into it. He pulls the cloths free and rings them out over the ground as to not sully their water, then soaks them again. He repeats this until he's sure they are as clean as possible then soaks them one last time. "Talk to me," he says.

"What?"

"Talk to me. So I can follow your voice."

"Oh…umm…what should I say?"

Ronon chuckles as he cautiously makes his way over. "Anything. Who is Jane?"

"Oh that," she grumbles. "You'd think with four names to choose from they'd be able to come up with something a little more imaginative."

"Four names?"

"Five including my last name."

"Why do you have five names?"

"Me Mama, grandmamma and great-grandmamma. It's an Italian thing."

Ronon takes up his spot right by her side. He leans against the cavern wall; the rock is cool against his bared skin. "What are all your names?" Even though he's found her, he still can't see her and wants to hear her voice. He needs to hear her voice.

"Alessandra Calogera Sienna Antonia D'Angelos…Doctor, of course. That is the most important part for me familia. The first doctor in the bunch. They do not care what kind of doctor…the title is what matters. You can understand why I chose to shorten my name, though?"

"Yes." He carefully presses one of the soaked cloths to the shoulder wound, hoping the cold water is full of helpful things and not infectious ones. Again the pain shoots through him, but he has to do this. "So you are Jane…as well?"

"Not just Jane…Plain Calamity Jane. It's an important distinction." Her voice is suddenly callous and Ronon wishes he hadn't brought up the topic. "Plain because…well, let's face facts, I'm no beauty queen…no one's going to war over this face." There's pain in her voice but she tries to hide it with a giggle. "Calamity means something that brings great loss or destruction… Jane just happens to fit with both of them," she finishes quietly. After a heavy sigh, she giggles through what he assumes are held in tears. "I actually prefer Jello. At least it comes in a variety of colors and yummy flavors. Some people even consider it dessert."

"Is that why the military men call you Jello? Dessert?"

He can feel her shake her head. "My last name…D'An-gelos. Though, I'm guessing is has more to do with my big, wiggly ass," she laughs.

"It is not—"

Her voice cracks. "Perhaps not for your eyes, Ronon." She takes a deep breath and it hisses through her teeth. "But Earth men have… certain criteria when it comes to judging women." She hisses again. "And they're not always kind."

3 WEEKS AGO

"Nothing's impossible, Elizabeth," Sheppard said as he rose from the chair and slid sideways onto Dr. Weir's desk. The look on his face was pure predator to prey. But Dr. Weir wasn't anyone's prey. At least not today.

She tilted her head and raised her brows. The denial in her eyes made Sheppard blanch and Ronon chuckle. Though she spoke often and with authority, sometimes the leader of Atlantis didn't need words at all to get her point across.

Sheppard was about to press further when the alarms sounded. Ronon turned from his post at the door and strode over to the gate controller. He could feel Sheppard and Dr. Weir following him even as he caught the movement from the corner of his eyes.

"Atlantis Team Two, Dr. Weir. It's Major Lorne's IDC." Chuck, the technician sitting behind all three of them said. "Radio transmission."

"Let's hear it," Dr. Weir ordered.

"Atlantis, this is Lorne. We're coming in hot. Lower the shield on my count." Sheppard and Ronon raced down the steps to cover the incoming team if necessary.

"Tac-team one to gate room, A-sap!" Sheppard called over his radio. Several more soldiers showed up, guns ready.

Dr. Weir tapped her headset. "Acknowledged Major, ready when you are."

A short countdown followed and the shield came down. A split second later, Dr. D'Angelos stumbled through the open wormhole just out of range of a laser blast that skimmed between Sheppard and Ronon and hit the stairs; her body over-rotated forward, probably from someone pushing her through the Stargate and she fell flat onto her belly, sliding a couple feet. Her glasses flew off her face and skidded across the floor.

Even as she tried to get purchase with her hands and feet and get out of the way, AT-2 rushed in, all four facing the gate, firing on unseen attackers and not looking where they were going. One at a time — though it happened so quickly it's impossible to know who went down first — they tripped and fell onto and over Dr. D'Angelos, still firing their weapons. Bullets tore into the ceiling, more bounced off the gate igniting sparks. And as the shield came back up, even more bullets ricocheted back into the gate room. Everyone took cover immediately. Too late for Lorne, however as one of the ricochets ripped through his arm, spraying blood; he shouted a harsh: "Fuck!"

From underneath the tangled mess of military limbs, Dr. D'Angelos managed to dislodge herself from the men and crawl out on her hands and knees. With her head down, she didn't notice Ronon right in front of her and bumped her head into his knee.

"Ow…" she rubbed her head and looked up.

For the first time, Ronon got to see quite a bit of her; her open collar dipped, exposing the wondrous creamy flesh usually hidden from view, ready to burst from her undergarment. But he tore his gaze from there so he could finally see her face, minus the mask of glasses. The lovely shape reminded him of the recent holiday Sheppard had been so happy about celebrating. Valentine's Day. The cards and decorations around the city had the same fullness at the cheeks tapering to a point on the bottom… 'hearts' if he recalled correctly.

Sheppard managed to receive numerous gifts from various females on that day and was quite difficult to be around for some time. Ronon also received some interesting gifts…the ever coveted chocolate and several cards that stated 'Be Mine' though none of them had names written inside. It confused him that so many females would ask him to pledge himself to them without giving a name. Sheppard had made a remark that it might not have been a female after all, which only left Ronon further confused.

That same night, it was the late night visit to his quarters by one of the military women that managed to scratch his seven year itch. Her forwardness had brought out the animal in him; they impacted the wall, the floor and each other's bodies at such a velocity they both ended up bruised in various places. Not that he would complain. Cpt. Sacks had been more than willing to kiss and suck those bruises the very next night when she returned. And he'd reciprocated eagerly. He could still remember the feel of her taught breasts in his mouth, the heft of her buttocks in his hands as he shoved her into that same wall again. Her muscular legs wrapped around him with amazing strength, the feel of her surrounding him as he took the plunge, sating himself within her body over and over throughout the night.

But he did not hold her attention following that second encounter. Not that he had expected to. He was her itch that needed scratching. And truth be told, even after seven years, Ronon longed for something more than a mere scratch.

Dr. D'Angelos' dark eyes widened considerably and her face paled as he continued to stare at her. He smiled and a deep blush rushed through her skin from beneath the collar to her hair line. Ronon held up her glasses. Then she smiled with gratitude and he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. That had to be the most amazing smile. Not like the sad ones he'd seen previously or the ones he'd been given by other females here on Atlantis; those had something dark in them, something needy and hungry. They wanted to take from him.

He wasn't above the 'flirting' that Sheppard so clearly enjoyed, and he had no problem following through with such actions should the opportunity arise…which had been frequently following that Valentine's Day.

The Athosian brew was in abundance for sometime afterward, leaving many of the Earth women open to seduction…though it seemed he was the one seduced most of the time. Not that it took much convincing. A warm body, a hungry kiss and Ronon would take the lead. Flesh pounding against flesh, moans stifled by his mouth, and screams of ecstasy at his prowess were pleasurable experiences and served a purpose.

After a while, however, the faces started blending together. Their hard bodies were all the same. Even the way they smelled after he'd taken them left him wanting. He could not remember one from the next.

"Thanks," Dr. D'Angelos said in the same quiet voice he'd come to expect. Once again lowering her face to the ground, she shoved the glasses in place, hiding herself then backed away from him, only to bump right into Lorne who was checking his flesh wound.

"Fuck!" He hissed, this time adding a deep growl. She spun away from him so fast she stumbled into another of the team, kicking his ankle with the heel of her boot. Curses flew through the air as swiftly as the bullets had moments ago.

Dr. D'Angelos threw up her hands. "Sorry. I'm so sorry!" She tried to help the man with the injured leg but he waved her off, rather harshly in Ronon's opinion.

All this took place in mere moments. Only long enough for Dr. Weir to rush down the stairs and join them. Dr. D'Angelos was already on her way up the stairs when Dr. Weir called over her shoulder: "Infirmary."

The doctor quickly changed direction and rushed down the corridor leading to the medical lab. "Yes, Dr. Weir." A moment later there was a whump and a curse followed by a series of: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Dr. Weir and Sheppard shook their heads as they turned to Lorne and his men. "What the hell happened? I thought that planet was friendly."

"I heard the alarm," McKay called as he rushed in from another direction and took up space next to Sheppard. "What's going on…?"

Eyes flitted to McKay but then rested on Lorne again. "Everything was fine, sir, until Jello spoke up."

"Major!"

Lorne squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Sorry Ma'am. Once Dr. D'Angelos started chatting with one of the locals, we had nothing but problems."

"Hey, he's bleeding," McKay said, sounding rather pleased.

"Thanks McKay, we didn't notice that," Sheppard glared then turned back to Lorne. "Granted, she's a linguist, but what could she possibly have done to cause a fire fight?"

"I don't know, sir. All I know is we were at the ruins when the head clan came with food and water. Dr. D'Angelos was neck deep in deciphering the script and refused to come over to greet the clan for several minutes. She kept waving us off. Saying "in a minute, in a minute". Apparently that's not a nice phrase or something because the lead guy…Hypner got all stiff and started going off in his language…real angry. That's when she came out and got into some sort of debate with the guy."

Dr. Weir covered her eyes. "Don't tell me."

"Okaaay."

"Tell me," Sheppard said.

"One minute they're standing there arguing or whatever—lots of gesturing—and the next, the guy's tripping over backward and lands on his butt…right in the food the others were laying out on a blanket. Everyone fell into each other."

"She didn't…push him…"

"Not that I saw ma'am…but you know Je…" he cleared his throat. "Dr. D'Angelos really doesn't need to do anything for…stuff to happen." He motioned to his bleeding arm.

Sheppard waved. "Yeah…infirmary."

Lorne took a step toward the corridor then looked back. "What if she's still in there?"

"Just go!"

"Yes sir." Lorne and his team trudged away, grumbling that they'd take their time, possibly use the scenic route.

"Well," Dr. Weir sighed. "That's another team down. I highly doubt they'll be willing to go out with her again."

"Pay up!" McKay grinned at Sheppard's back.

Sheppard spun on him. "What?"

"I called it. I win the pool."

"Rodney!"

"What? Elizabeth, it's good for morale to have a little game play. Besides," he shrugged. "I never win."

"And you still didn't," Sheppard hissed. Before McKay could respond, he added. "No one died, McKay."

"Lorne was shot."

"By friendly fire…and he'll live…you win nothing."

Grumbling about working with twelve year-olds, Dr. Weir stomped up the stairs to her office. "What are we going to do now? I'm open for suggestions." Before McKay said anything, she held up a stiff finger. "And not about another betting pool."

Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck as he followed. "I'm all for locking her in her lab or quarters."

"Colonel!"

"I know. I know. She's the best linguist we have unless Dr. Jackson shows up. But if she's pissing off the locals we've just made agreements with—"

"Seventeen languages…not counting Ancient which she picked up in less than a month. Her skills are unmatched when it comes to meeting other cultures. Whatever happened out there…I want her side of the story before pointing fingers. Without her help, I doubt we'll ever decipher the location of that ZPM. She's the one who found the gate addresses listed on the ruins of M4X-882 in the first place. She's the one who figured out the Ancients were playing a damned crazy game of hide-n-seek! We need her in the field, Colonel. Not stuck in some room twiddling her thumbs."

"Especially since that could probably get someone killed," McKay added.

"Not funny."

Sheppard sighed. "Well…it's kinda funny." Dr. Weir glared at him. "All right. I'm thinking."

"What is the problem?" Ronon's question reminded Sheppard he was actually following and the man did a double-take.

"We need to get you a bell or something." With a shrug, he added: "Dr. D'Angelos needs to be guarded at all times when off-world."

"Why?"

"Remember that Wraith attack I told you about…back before you got here?" Ronon nodded. "Well, she maimed the guy…but didn't kill him, unfortunately…and he really wants payback."

"Wraith don't care about revenge…they want food."

"Yeah, well…this guy's pretty pissed. She shot his dick off—" Dr. Weir glowered at Sheppard. "Sorry 'lizbeth. Anyway, I think he's looking for a nice long interrogation with the good doctor. So he can do some maiming of his own."

The thought of that young woman being in the hands of a torturous Wraith made Ronon's blood curdle. He could already see that lovely heart-face twisted with pain, those luminous eyes wide with fear, those lush red lips parted in a scream.

No. He shook the images from his head.

Dr. Weir led the way into her office. "I guess we could ask for volunteers? Try to come up with some sort of incentive that'll get them interested."

"Like what? Extra popcorn on movie night?" McKay chuckled.

"Don't you have an elsewhere to be, McKay?" Sheppard asked.

"Nope."

Dr. Weir turned to them as she approached her desk. A slight shine lit her eyes. "How 'bout three days on the mainland."

"After their injuries heal, you mean."

"She's not that dangerous, John."

"Four concussions," McKay pointed to his head.

"She broke my finger," Sheppard whined over McKay. Ronon recalled seeing Sheppard wandering around the city for a couple of weeks with the middle finger of his left hand bound in a white splint and sticking straight up, making everyone from Earth laugh whenever he raised his hand and folded down his other fingers.

"That wasn't her fault. You were…"

"I was walking, Elizabeth. Just walking."

"As was I," McKay added. "The first time, anyway."

"She came around the corner and slammed right into me and we both went down. Then she stepped on my hand when trying to get up."

"I remember. I was there." She sighed heavily as she sank into her chair. "Well, what about Stackhouse's team?"

Sheppard shook his head. "Radner would rather have rabies shots. He's still not over getting stuck in a cast for six weeks with a fractured femur. Stackhouse is a good kid, but the scalding hot coffee didn't exactly leave him with a smile on his face whenever she's around."

"What about Garrison or Levens?"

"Back spasms from going down that flight of stairs and broken wrist, same incident."

"Daniels?"

"Still pissed about the head injury."

"Ahhh…so I'm not the only one?" Off Dr. Weir's searing glare, McKay rolled his eyes and huffed. "Face it, Elizabeth. No one will work with her. No one wants to be in the line of fire. Not even Zelenka will spend time with her. And he's got this insane crush on the woman. But…she's dangerous."

"She's a scientist, Rodney, not a plague on humanity. She just happens to be a little…"

"Klutzy?" Sheppard offered.

Dr. Weir nodded side to side. "To say the least."

"Please," McKay squeaked. "She's the poster child for Murphy's Law. You won't find a single man in this entire city she hasn't nearly killed. And she's only been here…six months."

"Why is it only men?" Ronon asked from his perch at the doorway.

"What?" All three turned to him.

"This doctor. Why does she only injure men?"

"Oh…she hasn't…" Dr. Weir said. "She put Laura, Sharon and Heather in the infirmary too."

Ronon was unfamiliar with the first names so Sheppard provided help. "Cadman, Maddog and Nickels."

Nickels. The name sounded familiar. A flash of short blond hair and a heated, high-pitched rapturous keening in time with his powerful thrusts played through his memory. He smiled briefly then let the image pass. "They are on different teams. Are they not?"

Dr. Weir nodded. "And each team had three men who also ended up in the infirmary, though in decidedly worse shape." She raised her brows and glanced at Sheppard. "He might have a point. Maybe she needs to talk to Heightmeyer." Sheppard shrugged.

"She can take down a whole team with…accidents?" Ronon held in a chuckle. "Are you sure she isn't working for the Wraith?"

"She's a klutz." Sheppard said. "Trips, falls, bumps, walks into doors…"

"Manages to lock the men's communal shower while they're in there and shuts off all the hot water in the process," McKay said.

"There's no proof it was her, McKay. It was a fluke. A random chain of events."

"That started when she fell into the power control board on level W5. You heard the clamor as much as I did. They all thought she did it."

Ronon vaguely remembered hearing the many male voices combine into a single shout: "JELLO!"

"I get the feeling she gets blamed for much more than she is responsible," Dr. Weir said, leaning back in her chair and templing her fingers. "And what does happen in her vicinity…it's not on purpose."

"And your military cannot out maneuver this woman because…?"

Sheppard scrunched his face. "She kinda sneaks up on ya."

Ronon believed it had less to do with stealthy behavior than invisibility. Yes, she's quiet and unassuming in stature, not a threat by any means, but that also seemed to create an illusion for others that she doesn't exist in their world. Inconsequential. "Then that is the fault of your personnel and military training…not Dr. D'Angelos."

Sheppard started to protest; he waved a finger in the air and his mouth opened then closed as a slow smile spread across his face. He looked to Dr. Weir and she raised her brows then leaned forward and clasped her hands on her desk.

"He might just have another point," Sheppard said finally.

"He very well could," Elizabeth agreed.

They both turned to stare at him with matching, wicked grins. "What?"

Dr. Weir's brows arched as they had earlier with Sheppard.

"I think we've found our volunteer," Sheppard said firmly.

"What?"

Dr. Weir tilted her head, he's noticed she does this whenever trying to get Sheppard to do something she knows he would protest about doing; and at that moment, she was doing it to Ronon. The hairs on the back of his neck started to tickle. "We could really use your…agility," she glanced at Sheppard and he added: "quick reflexes"; Dr. Weir nodded "and superior fighting skills…in this matter."

Ronon glowered. "You want me to babysit this doctor."

"Baby-sit…noooo," Sheppard drew out. "Guard. Be her personal bodyguard whenever she's off-world." He tapped Ronon's shoulder. "You're the only one I know who can do it. And do it right."

"We had a saying on Sateda, Sheppard. Your breath smells of beast droppings."

Dr. Weir chuckled behind her hand and Sheppard grinned. "Is that a yes?"

"If only to prove that I am correct about your inadequate personnel training and that Dr. D'Angelos is not the menace McKay clearly wants her to be."

He kept the main reason to himself, however. Spending time with Dr. D'Angelos could only bring him more of those alluring, tender smiles and endearing blushes. Not to forget a possible view at that ample bosom again.

"Great, then let's go introduce you to your new charge."

As they were about to leave the office, Dr. D'Angelos popped in, Ronon side stepped quickly, but she slammed into Sheppard who backed into Dr. Weir, stomping hard on her foot. Dr. Weir cried out.

"Oh crap…I'm so sorry…" Dr. D'Angelos muttered in that hushed voice. Ronon could clearly hear it cracking with emotion. And from the glimpse he got of her eyes, he could see she'd been crying recently.

Ronon's ire surged. Who made her cry? He wanted to rip the arms off anyone who would cause this woman pain. And yet…he didn't even know her.

Dr. Weir huffed about her foot, hopping toward the sofa as Sheppard came to her aid, both of them ignoring the lady doctor waving a paper in her hand. Ronon caught sight of McKay's satisfied grin as he watched the whole thing from the other side of the room.

Dr. D'Angelos sniffed and shoved the paper at Ronon before rushing off. He glanced at it. "Uh…Dr. Weir?"

"Mmm?" She whimpered, still trying to get her shoe off the offended foot.

"What does…resignation mean?"

"It means: throw it away!" She hissed. "I don't accept it."

"Elizabeth," McKay started, but she shut him down with a glare.

Sheppard glanced over his shoulder at Ronon. "Well…what are you waiting for…go after her."

"You said off-world."

"You know at this point, I'm thinking she might need a guard 24/7."

"28," Dr. Weir corrected with a grunt.

"You know what I mean."

Ronon was already on his way out when he heard McKay say: "You realize, she's gonna get him killed…right?"

"Shut up, Rodney!" Dr. Weir hollered only to whimper in a small, tight voice a moment later. "I think you broke my baby toe, John."