Six

He knows he shouldn't be here. He knows he should be maybe in the gym or behind his desk or – best of all – in his bed, but he simply couldn't help it. After getting back from questioning the people on M5K-758, he'd felt a terrible fatigue setting in and had suddenly found himself in front of Laura's quarters… and before he knew what he was doing had convinced the city to let him in. And now he's sitting on her bed, his elbows on his thighs and his eyes fixed on some invisible spot on the wall.

Through his head, there is the mission to M5K-758 running again. They'd taken a jumper and cloaked, but the traders' temporary settlement Meyers had described had been already gone, trampled grass and several bullets in the ground the only hint that there had been something happening. That had been a near positive clue that the traders had had something to do with the whole thing… that it had been a set-up. Teyla, who had insisted on coming along with them, even against Sheppard's protestations, had been seriously distressed at the thought that the traders – obviously good friends of hers – could have been involved in something like this.

He knows she considers Laura and Dr. Keller her friends, and the look on her face when the evidence they'd found had hardened their suspicions that this ambush had been partly the fault of Hamrash and his people, had clearly told him that she blames herself for trusting them and making it possible for two of her friends to get hurt.

He'd had a few things on his mind he'd really liked to do to this Hamrash back on that planet, but what good would have brought it them if he'd resorted to dark brooding? So instead of entertaining violent fantasies of hunting down those traders, he'd simply walked up to Teyla, made sure no one around was listening and had told her that none of this had been her fault. She'd simply smiled one of her distressed little half-smiles and thanked him, saying that it meant a lot to her coming from him. He'd just bravely smiled back and gotten on with his job.

And then there had been Ronon. The big guy had been even more silent than usual and had radiated off a kind of grim determination he'd rarely seen when examining the tracks and hints they'd found. He'd had the strange feeling that the traders were even lucky if he was the one finding them instead of Ronon. The big guy's barely concealed aggression at Jennifer Keller's abductors had eventually broken through when Ronon's need to fight had clashed with Rodney's unnerving nervous arrogance multiplied by the obvious worry for the doctor. He'd nearly fired a round from his P90 in the air to stop them when Ronon and Rodney had started getting at each other's throats. Thankfully, Teyla had been faster than him and had been able to calm them down.

In the end, they'd at least come back with five 'Gate addresses, because despite everything Rodney had managed to extract them and had taken them for further examination. They'd been there the whole day, following every possible lead they had, examining the camping ground of the traders, the way to the 'Gate… and when they'd been back, Sheppard had quietly taken him aside, telling him in no uncertain terms that he expected him to head straight for his quarters, ignore the paperwork on his desk – all the paperwork – and fall right into bed.

But instead… he'd somehow taken a turn somewhere and ended up in front of Laura's quarters. When he'd been inside, he hadn't had the slightest clue what to do for a moment, had simply looked around, taking in the neatly folded bed – a little absentminded smile had grazed his face, because that's just so unlike Laura and so Marine – the pictures on the wall, the sandbag in a corner, the slightly cluttered desk… it then occurred to him that he'd never been in here before, because out of some unspoken agreement, they usually spend their nights together in his quarters.

He sighs and tears his eyes away from the opposite wall. His gaze swerves around and gets caught by something on her bed stand… one of the picture frames. Not the one showing her in her Marine dress blues with her parents or the ones showing her with friends from Earth and from Atlantis… No, it's the one showing them together. Both of them are in their beach attire, on a beach on the mainland, and he's just grabbed her from behind to tackle her. Both of them are laughing.

Another smile grazes his face. He's got no idea why she took that picture of all the ones Sheppard had taken that day a few weeks ago. But then he shakes his head again. He really shouldn't be here. And he shouldn't be getting wistful like this, because she's still alive and out there, and in two days tops she'll be back here, safe and sound and without a scratch.

Honestly, he doesn't know why he's getting all soppy like this. She's been on countless off-world missions without him since they started this, and not once he'd let the worry distract him like this, because he has every trust in her abilities as a soldier. Sure, she might have gotten hit, but she's got enough sense in that pretty head of hers to get herself out of sticky situations. So why can't he just rely on this trust now? Why can't he shake that damn bad feeling deep down in his stomach that tells him she's headed right into trouble that might be too big for her to handle?

He runs a hand over his eyes. It's probably just the exhaustion and the worry and… and the fact that she never before left with an argument unsettled. They'd always somehow managed to make up before one of them had been sent off-world, but this is the first time they didn't give themselves the chance to at least say a quick sorry and promise to talk it through once they get back. And isn't it standard in books and movies to let something terrible happen in this case, just to teach the protagonists a lesson about not letting the sun set on an argument?

A little agitated, he hits the bed under him with his hand. His exhaustion and worry is rapidly starting to get the better of him, making him think strange thoughts and distracting him from his actual work. Sheppard was right. He should be in his bed, getting eight hours of sleep, to be ready for another day of trying to find her. But… the thought of going back to his own quarters, where somehow everything turned into reminding him of her in the last three months, is not exactly a nice one.

Here, though, her presence is there as well, but not their presence. Defeated, he sighs and lies down on his back. The moment he does it, he feels a huge wave of sleepiness wash over him and immediately regrets lying down. But even before he can gather up enough energy to get up again, he falls asleep, accompanied by the images of her back on that beach… and the stubborn determination to hold on to the hope that they'll find her before it's too late.

A/N: Huh... that one was really short, wasn't it? I'm not even really sure if it makes sense, but I just had this image of Lorne alone in Laura's quarters in my head, and knew I'd want to write this, even if it maybe takes out some tempo of the story. Hope you can at least see why I'd wanted to include it ;)