A/N: It has occurred to me that some of the Wraith behaviors have to do with things revealed in Common Ground. So, I guess, you should consider them spoilers.

Chapter 10

Shock, Shock, Horror, Horror

It? Him? Her? He settled on "it".

It smiled like it owned every one of the beings on the planet. He hated the female of the species right now. So, Michael did not hesitate to turn off the device.

Dr. McKay jerked and sat up, startled. Tears rolled down his face and coherence took a moment as he looked around at those near him. Ronon knelt down beside him and supported his back. Teyla immediately moved closer to settle any fears by placing a hand on his leg.

On the other hand, Col. Sheppard yawned and rolled its eyes.

"Do you really think I would let a little device or a male control me?" it said scornfully.

The Lanteans watched tensely and the Wraith shifted nervously while futility washed over Michael. He turned the device back on. Dr. McKay slumped boneless into Ronon. Ronon laid the man back down on the emergency blankets Michael had allowed them to use and glared. Once again his body language said, Fight me. Teyla stood up blocking Ronon and took her own threatening step towards Michael.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked with her temper flaring while pointing an accusing finger at Col. Sheppard.

Michael gave an unbelieving snort, "When I find out, you'll be the second to know, Teyla."

Sheppard's eyes never left Michael's face. "What has happened that you would be consorting with the menu…Michael?"

It was the same tone his Queen had used. The tone expressing that tainted putrescence stood before her. He could use that tone too because this Queen was trapped in a fragile, human body.

"I think we should discuss this elsewhere," he suggested. "Out of earshot."

"Very well. Is the village empty? I want to get this mud off." It looked down at all the smears on the clothes and tapped at the partially crusted clay in its hair.

"Yes." He motioned for it to walk down the path. He could end its life right now but the scent…the scent told him to obey. So, he followed subserviently like he had been doing all of his life. Humans followed their leader by choosing. His people were genetically predisposed. He would still fight it. Maybe his taint would come in handy.

Once in the cleared out village, it cleaned all of the mud off of its body and replaced the Lantean uniform with local pants, a loose fitting shirt and boots. They entered a large tent at the center of the village in order to discuss the new developments. Standing in the middle of the tent, it ran a hand across the back of a heavily carved chair and slowly trailed its hand to the arm.

"He named me Lucy," it started by way of introduction. "So we have something in common."

It dropped itself into the chair and flexed its right hand. "I guess I'll have to find some other form of sustenance. Pity."

Michael stood impassive and just waited. He was confused, distressed and angry, but he knew better than to speak unsolicited.

"What is it you want from them, little rogue?" It lounged with both legs over the arm of the chair and its back against the other. "No, don't answer that. Let me guess."

Michael frowned and shifted in his spot.

"To hide. To hide from all my sisters." It leered arrogantly as if its position was not a precarious one or as if she was not in a similar situation. "Let me tell you a little story…a story about flawlessness blemished."

It was then that he truly knew with whom he was speaking.

"We found the beacon and know about your attempt at Earth."

His Queen had let him study it before they destroyed it. She had told him that one with such taint might be able to understand some of the schematics of Atlantis since he had lived there. In his quest, he found a little, hidden compartment with a little, hidden device. It also had schematics and instructions for organic triggers left in three individuals. He thought the irony splendid. His only regret, Dr. Beckett was not one of them.

Without his Queen's knowledge, he had successfully tested the little device before the failed mission to reach Earth. From the readings on the transmitter, it had worked as designed. Apparently, there had been additions to Sheppard's that had gone unnoticed.

"Yes, I guessed that since I am speaking right now. But after I left the beacon, I realized that the forces that protect Earth could be far more formidable than originally thought. It occurred to me that the trickster had lied to me. They are by the way. They have heavily armed friends. I thought just because the humans here cannot ally themselves with one another successfully that that was the same for all humans. My mistake."

It sat up and put one foot on the ground and one on the seat of the chair. It placed an arm on the top of the upraised knee.

"Billions of them by the way, there are billions." Gluttony sparkled in her eyes.

If he had had less control, he might have drooled. Amazing, they had hidden that fact from him while living in the city as one of them. He had figured it out once they downloaded all of the information from the Atlantis computers. No wonder Earth was a coveted feeding ground.

"At first, these prototypes in conjunction with the tracers were just to make sure I kept track of the important ones. Seems like I missed one according to my host, a very important one. And it's the one your after, is it not?"

Michael maintained his controlled aloofness.

It let out an exaggerated exhale and pointed to itself. "His device, I modified it as a life boat, an escape pod if you will. He was unconscious for quite a bit of time so the gift of life in a perverted form went into the little vessel. An imprint of my consciousness transferred right before we reached their solar system. So, when you activated the device, I waited until I gained everything I needed and here we are." It smiled and spread its arms to take in the tent as if this bit of fabric was its entire domain.

"But what about you? He was hoping you were blown up on some, nice, little, out-of-the-way planet."

Michael truly appreciated the workings of the universe and gave his own smirk. "The Hive rescued some of us before our area was hit by a bombardment. We figured the Lanteans escaped the Hive they had stolen by using one of their cloaked ships. Seemed like a good idea to us. We commandeered a cruiser and, so, here we are."

"Well then, I think it's time to move forward. You don't need a cloak from them; I can help you."

Michael flared his nostrils and smiled yet again. The female of the species was definitely more deadly than the male, he thought. Of course, he did not trust a fragile bone in its body.

So be it.

-------------------

As Col. Sheppard walked away, Teyla was not sure if this was some sort of really bad joke. Maybe it was a bizarre trick to fool the Wraith or them. In her heart, she knew different.

She turned back to the small group of Atlantians totally at a loss for words. Their shocked expressions met hers. Col. Sheppard's gait, movements and voice took on a more feminine air and it was unsettling. There was something else, though. It was not a presence as such, but a gnawing of wrongness like the disguise did not fit him.

She looked up at the giant insect mound serving as their prison. Stackhouse had compared it to a termite mound and said that he hoped the little critters did not bite. She agreed since they were sitting against it. In this makeshift prison, Ronon's fierceness towards Michael had not dissipated and the Wraith around her were still agitated. Whatever had taken over Col. Sheppard was a surprise to them as well. She heard whispers bandying about and decided to eavesdrop.

A queen. She felt sick because she could take a guess at which queen.

The last glance Sheppard gave over his shoulder held menace and it was aimed at her. Her friend had suffered at the hands of this queen and, now, she did it again. Teyla looked down at Dr. McKay and understood why he had been crying. He most certainly knew. Somehow he had watched as his teammate was overtaken and obviously, could do nothing about it.

They were caught in the middle of a plan thought out and executed well in advance of ever meeting Michael. As luck would have it, he was a dupe as well. He thought the technology left behind would help him in his own personal goals. Unlucky for him, another plan was trying to take over and it was devious.

With his brief return to consciousness, Teyla recognized that Dr. McKay would not be of much use, even awake. It had taken awhile for him to gain coherence and then he had not moved. This state of rest was not. Lying so long in sleep or in not-sleep was taking its toll. As with many times before, she knew they had to play the waiting game and closed her eyes to do so.

"Smithsonian!" Dr. McKay had excitedly shouted while they sat in a rec room at the SGC. "The place we need to go is the Smithsonian. It is the last thing on the must do list."

Teyla remembered thinking, why not? "What is it?" she asked.

"It's a museum or a group of museums really. They have everything from our first attempts at flight to the ruby red slippers from one of your favorite movies," he babbled.

"The Smithsonian sounds like fun," she accepted it like the invitation it was.

"No," John interrupted them. "Let's show you the other side."

Dr. McKay and Ronon stared uncomprehendingly at his request. She had not understood either--at first.

"We'll do the Smithsonian Rodney, but let's show them how we really live."

Then understanding broke like dawn, John was having a dark day.

"We are violence," he said so low that it was a rumbling whisper.

He showed them the war machine. The amazing vehicles, systems, and ships of war on their planet that if transferable could help any planet in her galaxy. She saw his beloved helicopters along with fighter jets and bombers. She marveled at the tanks that rolled over anything in their path and rumbled their presence for miles around. The large guns-- Howitzer, she believed was the name-- fired ordinance that no one in Pegasus had dreamed of in so long. It decimated targets from miles away with a loud smoke-filled bang. For as many years as she had lived on Atlantis, these things had never been shown to her in such detail. She could understand why.

There were so many weapons of war just to fight them. The Genii would have gone…and she borrowed this term from one of the marines…ape shit. Finally, she saw Afghanistan and understood her friend even more. To experience these things, they did not have to leave the SGC. They only had to turn on the T.V. and watch because John had said that the couch was close enough.

"I thought it was more of your special effects," said Ronon practically caressing the screen. "These things exist and you do not bring them with you?"

"They're not terribly effective against orbital assault," John shrugged.

"The bunker busters would have been useful against the Genii though," Rodney said off-handedly.

John just shrugged again. "Anyway, a tank doesn't fit through the Gate and we did bring the rail guns."

Rodney sighed, "Well, let me get back to the Wraith dart. The trained monkeys were so flummoxed by the organic nature they almost started to do mouth to mouth to get the power going again. And I have no idea where they were going to put their mouths. Idiots." Rodney stood and looked at his team on the couch in the SGC rec room. "Smithsonian, and maybe we can make sure we go the Aeronautical Museum just for you, Colonel."

Sheppard barely smiled while staring at an indistinct point on the wall.

The Colonel continued to heal. When John neared his time to be released and placed on restrictive duty, they visited the Smithsonian (plus T'ealc and Col. Mitchell as their dutiful escorts) and she saw the beautiful slippers in a glass case. The Colonel saw the aircraft and Ronon saw weapons of centuries past. It had been a great day.

They had kept their pact made in the hospital room months before. They had brought him through the darkness and back home. Or so she had thought.

Now, as she watched John Sheppard's body walk away with something else guiding it, she wondered if they had all been fooled for months.

-------------------

"…not JOHN!"

Carson wheeled around from his station and ran to Elizabeth's bedside. He looked a mess. Not enough sleep, too much stress, and an over dependence on caffeine gave him that crumpled up piece of paper look. The wrinkled white lab coat underscored the appearance.

After the quick inspection of leads, tubes and whatever else she had adhered or inserted, he asked, "How ya doin' lass?"

"Better than you?" Elizabeth thought she could not feel any worse than he looked.

He smiled briefly at that, but quickly grew pensive. "Do you remember what you just said?"

She shook her head.

"Not John. Do you have any idea what you meant?"

As a nurse took vitals, she pondered the statement…and came up blank. Not a clue. Nada. Nope. She shook her head.

Carson pursed his lips together and nodded slowly. "Was afraid of that. You don't have any idea of what's happening when you sleep, do you?"

"No." She felt sorry. She really did. She felt like she was letting them all down and could not quite grasp why. It felt like it was all her fault…

"You have only a few moments. The Gate's shut down and Michael'll be dialing back in soon. Just know, Dr. Zelenka is working on it. Everyone's doing fine that we know of and we're…"

Her eyes closed before the end of his sentence.

-------------------

"…taking care of everything," he finished quietly, head drooping towards his chest.

"I believe we've found it!" Radek sang as he ran into the infirmary. He skidded to a stop next to Carson. "I just missed her, didn't I?" He peered down at Dr. Weir's bed and paid his respects.

"Egads, Radek. This isn't her funeral," Carson rebuffed Zelenka's solemn, wake-like stance.

"I know, but is difficult…ah…seeing her this way." He turned a small smile back to Carson. "But back to business, we have isolated the signal and are readying our own communication devices to jam it. Dr. Haushaur is in Control Room now." He bobbed up and down on his toes like Rodney. "I'm here to monitor…" he paused for an embellished breath, "…Dr. Weir."

Carson thought it almost sounded like a lovesick sigh, but would not let his brain dwell on it any longer than need be. "Alright Radek, let's give this a try. If it works, then Rodney and the Colonel will wake up too and that will take away some of Michael's leverage." He tapped his earpiece. "Is Major Lorne in the Control room?"

"I'm here Doc. Let's get this show on the…hold on Doc."

Carson did not like the waiting or the suspense. Of course, life and death situations were no stranger to him. He had grown use to situations complete with extreme traumatic tendencies. It read like a to do list: 1.) Make rounds. 2.) Work on continuing experiments. 3.) Put members of expedition back together again.

Did not mean he had to like it.

He knew the wormhole was open because of Dr. Weir's unconscious state. What could possibly be the hold up?

"It's Michael, Doc…I'll patch him through. It's time to set up the deal," the cowboy said in his ear.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Michael had other ideas.

-------------------

A/N: Thank you again for the wonderful reviews and taking the time to read!