Notes: Everyone doing alright? No one's suffered any brain injuries such a leaks or explosions? Good :) Thank you so much for the lovely comments! You crack me up and make happy!

Chapter the Sixth: Takin' care of business.

Teyla felt the rope beneath her feet shift, but she did not let it imprint on her mind. She was stepping on the solidity of ground; it did not shift underneath her feet. The ground supported her weight. She was walking, simply, as she did everyday.

When she judged she was half-way across the river, she lowered herself, hands first, eyes never leaving the tree line. Her hands gripped the rope and she lowered a knee, keeping the other leg extended, following the line of her back. She took one hand off the rope and retrieved the vial from her vest pocket. Uncorking it with thumb and first finger, she held the metallic wire between her remaining fingers and dipped the vial in the river, holding it away from herself. When it was full, she thought for a moment, looking for a way to cork it.

Finally, she decided it was better to risk a slight injury then a fall in the burning waters, so she slowly worked the wire between her fingers and brought the vial opening to the cork. She felt a burning pain on her thumb as the cork fell into place, but had not the time to look. Putting the no-longer-dripping vial in her vest, she expected the nylon to hiss upon contact, but it did not. She felt it was a mystery best left for the riverbank, or possibly Rodney.

Leaning back on her knee, Teyla brought the leg from the air back down so her foot would anchor her and she rose, slowly, extending her arm, feeling the space she could occupy and once more thinking only of solid ground.

She was agile, had always been, able to stand on the narrowest of post, jump from feet to hands with amazing dexterity. He father had attributed it to magical powers, to blessings from the Ancestors, but now she knew the Ancestors blessed no one, and gave the credit to her mother. Powerful muscles, light bones, a strong mind and perfect balance kept her above the waters.

She stepped ever closer to the riverbank, escaping thoughts that might deter her. Nothing existed but her body, nothing mattered but the placement of foot before foot. The air under her hand seemed denser and she let herself rest upon it, holding herself upright with its support.

When finally, she made it to the other side, she jumped lightly and her mind welcomed her back with a powerful thought. John.

She turned and saw him standing further down the bank. He raised a hand and she did the same. Yes, I am here, we are both here. We have made it through this one; it brings us closer to home. A sound drew her attention away from the man.

A bridge of boulders separated by a foot of air ran beside the rope she had crossed. She stared.

Sheppard ran to the end opposite her. He reached for the top of the stony bridge and hoisted himself up to the first boulder, immediately grabbing for the rope that hung in the air. She held her breath as he crossed from the first to the second boulder, willing him not to slip and fall. It held him upright, as did the other. He crossed all the way to the side of the river she occupied his hands sliding over the coarse rope.

He jumped from the last boulder and landed a few feet from her. She drew close as he rubbed his hands together.

"I guess I held on a bit too tight," he said, with a grin. His hands were reddened, covered with small cuts from the coarse rope he had gripped.

She dug through her pack and took out a sanitizing wipe. "Then we are fortunate we still have these." She reached for his hand, but he drew it away.

"That's fine; I'll do it, thanks."

She reached out quickly, held on to the captured wrist and wiped the possible infections away. He hissed and she gentled her touch. She felt the antibacterial properties of the wipe on her burnt thumb and realised she had barely felt the injury after it occurred.

"You don't need to –"

"Carson would not forgive me for allowing you to be infected. Nor would you, if your hands were to come to harm."

"I don't think it's –"

"Other hand," she said, releasing his left. She smiled when he brought forth his right. Perhaps the wipes were a tad overdone, but as he was the only one she had left, she would take good care of John Sheppard, as she knew he would her.

"You were amazing, there. I didn't know you could do that."

She raised her eyes to his. "I can do many things."

He smiled, an eyebrow raised in question. Thinking that Akhos the Thirty-seventh could benefit from the colonel's expertise, she sharply tapped the back of Sheppard's hand and put away the wipes. "You will stop entertaining such thoughts about my person, John Sheppard!"

"What," he said with false innocence, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I didn't say anything!"

She shook her head and shouldered her pack. "Shall we go?"

He took the small stone out of his pocket and consulted the map. "Yeah. It's that way," he said, pointing to the right.

They jogged at a comfortable pace again.

--OOOOO--

"If it's not one of those, you'd better shoot me."

"Can't, Sheppard'd be pissed-off."

"Oh wow, that's comforting," Rodney said with a displeased look that quickly morphed into a smug smile as the device in his hand glowed blue at him. "There you are, baby." He stroked and cooed, his attention riveted. "And what is it that you do, hmm?"

Ronon moved to the doorway, amused, as always, by McKay's love of Ancient devices. Rodney did not register movement, intent on finding what the little bundle of joy could do. He thought activate, but it did not result in much. He thought on, go, do it and still it didn't obey. He huffed and raised his eyes to the heavens, but on their way there, they settled on something less reassuring.

"Oh shit!" Rodney scrambled to his feet. "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit." He glared at the device in his hand. "Did you do this? Is that what you do?" He looked around and supposed it made sense, given the abundance of the material.

He walked over to his…team-mate, or a very good representation of it. Ronon would've done well as a statue; he did now. A harsh breath escaped Rodney. "Damn it." He ran a hand over the stony square of Ronon's shoulders. "If it looks like Ronon, feels like rock and is unmovable like a rock and Ronon, then am I to deduce that it is in fact Rock-Ronon?"

He glared at the device again. "You filthy tease. You could've told me!" He thought at it. Off, stop, don't do it. It stopped glowing and Ronon remained rocky. "Oh, not good, not good." Rodney thought on, go, do it and it glowed again. He let out the breath he had been holding.

"Ok, ok, ok, let's just. Think about this. Think about it. Come on, McKay. You can get Ronon back."

He thought, and thought, and thought. He paced, paced some more. He paced until he decided his surroundings were too stuffy and he headed out of the door.

He got stung, as did Ronon. It seemed that Rock-Ronon was not fond of the sting, for he collapsed into a pile of rubble.

"Oh les crap!" Rodney found his French, stumbled on his own feet and went down to meet the ground.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!" he shouted when he felt the sting again and all the little pieces of Rock-Ronon jumped. The sting kept coming until he returned to the cave. "Oh." His eyes were wide, his brain was whizzing. He continued to think at the device, but all the words he tried made him fear he was turning the rest of his team to rocks. "Ooooh," he said, when he saw the reddish glow of a discarded device lying by what used to be Ronon's, uh, foot?

He picked it up and thought on, loud and clear. It hummed happily and the blue glow from the other device disappeared. "Oh, right."

Rodney thought on, go, do it. Come on, work for daddy.

"Oh, for god's sake! Activate you little piece of –"

The rubble rose in a very disturbing reverse of its earlier collapse and Ronon stood before Rodney, blinking.

"Hey," Rodney greeted him, relief on his face and warmth in his voice, before he realised what he was doing and covered his humanity with a cough.

Ronon spit sand.

Rodney frowned and started to put his belongings in his pack. "We can go, I have the devices."

"McKay."

"They work, both of them. Can you believe it, two, we needed two. I know what they do, pretty stupid if you ask me but –"

"McKay." Ronon advanced on the scientist, who held his pack before himself.

"Look, all ready, we can go now. Go, go, go. Ready. Let's go. Here, I'll lead the way." Rodney tried to sidestep the man, but a hand gripped his collar. Rodney gulped loudly when Ronon lowered his face a mere inch away from Rodney's sweaty skin.

"You ever turn me into something again I'll chop your chubby little fingers off and make a talisman out of the bones."

"You can't hur– woah!" Rodney was released and would've fallen on his behind had Ronon's large hands not closed around his upper arms and stabilised him. Ronon seemed amused as he manhandled Rodney under the pretence of straightening the man's stance.

"Which way?" Ronon asked, as if he had not just threatened Rodney's precious hands, or as if he had not been turned to rock and back.

"Uh…" the map was pulled out of the pack. "That way, definitely that way."

The two men moved on, unconcerned by the events that had just occurred, already thinking of what laid in the area pinpointed by a cross on the map. Ronon kept a close eye on his scientist as they stomped through the woods