ELEVEN

Ronon's eyes took her in at a glance and his vision bled red with rage. She was alive. Exhausted. Terrified. Her hair was tangled and twisted, a matted chunk of dried blood clumped along her forehead. A long red scratch marred her cheek. She walked stiffly, her left shoulder held tightly against her side. She'd been injured – was injured.

Oh he was going to make them pay.

No one took what belonged to him and lived.

The idiot farmers had removed their guns, but not their weapons. Then the soldiers made their own search, but were not thorough enough. Ronon still had half a dozen knives hidden within reach.

Four soldiers held them under gunpoint, but left their hands free.

Amateurs.

He didn't have to look to know John was already calculating their odds of escape. And Rodney… well Rodney was breathing so quickly he was going to hyperventilate.

The only major concern was Jennifer, and the man standing behind her. Ronon didn't have to look long to know this was the leader – and a cold blooded killer. He was the one to watch. The one who would react without hesitation. The way the soldiers kept glancing over announced their hesitation to act without orders. Take off the head, the body dies. Kill the leader, the soldiers would fall.

Ronon could take him out with a well placed knife, but he couldn't take the chance of hitting Jennifer. The bastard was standing too close to her. When the man leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, Ronon saw the flash of cold fear cross her face as her skin paled.

"I thought you might want to say your goodbyes." Burnon whispered, making Jen's skin crawl.

She turned. "We had a deal." Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "Your son is still alive."

Burnon made a face. "The deal was for your life. Not theirs."

"Then make me a new one." She begged, glancing quickly over her shoulder, her eyes connecting briefly with Ronon's before she looked away.

"Doc." John warned and was silenced when one of the soldiers stepped forward and raised his weapon. John raised his hands, showing compliance.

Burnon raised his hand, signaling his man to hold. The soldier stepped back, but only slightly.

"My son lives, so do you. That is the deal."

"What are you going to do to them?" She whispered, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it.

"Why, kill them of course."

"Of course." Rodney muttered behind her and Jen almost smiled if not for the grave seriousness of the situation. Her mind scrambled for something, anything she could say, or offer, to make him let the others go. She should have hidden the key, bartered for it, but it was still tightly wedged inside her sleeve. He'd just take it away from her and kill them anyway.

There was only one thing she could think of.

One chance in a million it could work. But who was she kidding? It would never work. Yet knowing she could have helped and not doing anything would kill her as surly as shooting them herself.

Ronon was an incredibly skilled warrior in hand to hand combat, but certainly not against four armed men – unless he was also armed.

"I want to say goodbye." She pleaded, searching Burnon for any sign of compassion, but finding none. She wondered if he'd brought her here just to see her crumble, knowing he held their lives in his hand. He was all about the power trip.

He smiled and nodded, and her lungs exhausted the air they'd been holding in. "But of course. I'm not a complete monster."

Liar, she thought. Shuddering, she thought briefly of the two farmers he'd executed because she'd taken the crystal. She already had two deaths on her hand. There was no way she'd let him take those of her friends without a fight.

Turning, she stepped away from Burnon, then hesitated. Her eyes locked on Ronon's and she felt herself drowning in their depths. So much unsaid. So much she'd wanted to do. So much she should have done. If Burnon knew what she was about to do, he'd shoot her in the back himself.

Ronon held her gaze and watched the emotions playing across her face. Something was wrong. She was terrified. He wanted to reassure her, tell her they were going to be okay. She'd be okay. He wouldn't let them hurt her anymore. But he couldn't give anything away. He could feel John tensing beside him, knowing his friend was just waiting for an opening – a chance to make a move.

Jen stepped forward, her back stiff, the grey blanket clutched so tightly in her hands her knuckles were white. She turned towards Rodney, and tried to smile but failing. Ronon watched as she leaned forward and gave Rodney a quick hug, whispering something in his ear. Rodney's face blanched with shock and he fumbled with the hug, patting her lightly on the back.

Guns raised as the soldiers watched them carefully for any sign of foul play. Ronon's tension increased in response to the charged apprehension that was quickly filling the small room. The soldiers were watching too carefully now, he couldn't move yet. Not yet.

Jen turned towards John and gave him a quick hug with her right arm, keeping her left tightly pressed against her body, clutching the blanket closed around her shoulders.

"Don't worry, Doc." John winked as she stepped back. "We're not dead yet."

Jen nodded and stepped in front of Ronon. Ronon watched her face as she hesitated, her breathing coming so quickly he was worried she was going to pass out. She moved closer to him, her teeth madly gnawing her bottom lip. She winced against the pain in her shoulder as she raised both arms to his shoulders. He leaned down, placing his forehead against hers, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides.

"Kiss me." She whispered, her eyes never leaving his. He blinked. "Please. Don't think. Just put your arms around me and kiss me."

Ronon lifted his head, his eyes quickly moving to Burnon, the soldiers, then back to Jen. Her eyes were wide and filling quickly with tears. His heart squeezed to know he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and kiss away everything.

So he did.

He lowered his mouth and pressed his lips lightly against hers, tasting her fear, her worry, and the light salty flavor of her tears. Gods and Devils. He wanted more, could have none. He felt the feather light touch of her fingers as she dropped her left hand down his arm and clutched his wrist. He let her pull his hand around to the small of her back. His slid his fingers around her waist towards the indent of her spine and felt her stiffen when he finally touched a very, very familiar object tucked up under the back of her jacket.

He smiled against her mouth and pulled slowly away.

Good lord the woman was beautiful - in stature, spirit, and mind! He wanted to kiss her for being so brave despite her obvious terror. He wanted to strangle her for taking such an incredibly dangerous risk. He wanted to throw his head back and roar with satisfaction at the impossible turned possible.

Ronon couldn't help himself.

He tipped his head back and laughed.

When he lowered his face, he took in the four soldiers as they watched him with curiosity, and then it happened. Exactly what he was hoping for.

Two of the soldiers took their eyes off him, and looked towards their boss.

Shifting his weight he gripped the handle of his gun and with a swiftness born of years of combat he shoved Jen behind him and fired at the two soldiers on his left, dropping them instantly before swinging to the right. John had already incapacitated one and with a sharp right, dropped the second.

John quickly snatched his weapon, and ran for the door.

Burnon was gone.

Ronon helped Jen to her feet. She'd dropped the blanket and for the first time he saw the dried blood staining the front of her shirt. It had been hidden beneath the folds of the blanket but now it was there – and his breath caught.

He leapt forward, his hand quickly reaching for her abdomen.

"You're hurt."

Jen caught his wrists. "It's not my blood."

He scanned her face then nodded, his mind turning to escape. She wasn't safe yet. He quickly turned and took up a position on the opposite side of the doorway across from Sheppard.

They glanced into the corridor. Empty.

"Nice move, Doc." John said over his shoulder as the group moved slowly into the hallway.

"This way." Ronon ushered, running quickly down the hallway.

Jen followed Rodney, with John bringing up the rear.

"Wait." Jen stopped and ducked into an open doorway.

Ronon slid to a stop and ran back. "We have to go."

Jen stuck her head back out, struggling to hold onto an armful of gear. She held out their P90's and the other weapon's that had been confiscated. "You might need these."

Ronon felt the growing desire to kiss her again.

John grabbed for the guns, handing Rodney his weapon. "It was sure nice of them to leave them loaded."

"Move." Ronon ordered, turning down the hallway.

"Don't suppose you have any idea where we're going?" John called over his shoulder.

Jen shook her head. "No, I, sorry. I was unconscious when the brought me in. It's like a maze in here."

Her admission prompted a sharp look from Ronon, but he turned quickly away. "This way." He indicated with a tilt of his head, checking the next corridor before running quickly forward.

"How does he know that?" Rodney asked Jen, who shrugged.

"I don't care, as long as it gets me out of here." Jen answered.