Calypso walked around the city of the Ancients with almost a perpetual smile on her face. So this was the sort of thing that the government was up to behind the citizens' backs. She approved. They should do shit like this more often. With the exception of a few unpleasant natives, (And it was Calypso's personal and private opinion that they should be wiped from existence), it was all worth the millions of tax dollars that it took to run these outposts.

And Dr. McKay? Well he was a bonus.

Calypso had never met anyone who was so fun to bother.

She'd gone back to the lab several times for a go at the Salon Shop Interface, each time smiling smugly as she walked in wearing only a towel (John had said no stripping in the lab, he didn't say she couldn't walk in already naked), and returned from the room with a new haircut and new clothes, whistling as she walked away, well aware as she swayed her hips that McKay's eyes were glued to her retreating form.

And yes, her brother had let her know that he found her antics more than a little annoying, but she just reiterated that she knew what she was doing, and that she never impeded him when he had pursued her friends. At which point of course, he would roll his eyes and quote Douglas Adams ("This will all end in tears"), but that only served to make her laugh.

Cal smiled at the memory as she walked into the gym, stepping aside to avoid a hapless soldier being thrown out. Apparently he had done something to offend his tutor, who stared darkly at the door before raising an eyebrow at Calypso, who grinned.

"Ronon," she greeted, and he snorted, going back to the line of instructees.

"You're not my type," he replied automatically, and she laughed.

"I see my brother's been talking about me," she chuckled, shaking her head. "I assure you, you're not my type either," she told him, and he stopped, turning back to her with an intrigued expression on his face.

"From what I hear, male seems to be your type." he argued, and she smirked.

Normal people would be offended at that remark, as it indicated whorish behavior, but Cal had no illusions about her dating history. She liked sex, and she took it where she got it, it was as simple as that. If she happened to like sex with some people more than others, well that was her business, wasn't it?

"That, my friend is an illusion I use to make people think what I want them to think," she confessed, and he looked interested. "Anyway, I came here for a personal sparring lesson. John keeps going on about how you're unbeatable." she told him, shrugging off the jacket she wore everywhere, and unclipping her thigh holster. Ronon tilted his head.

"You think he's wrong?" he asked, and she folded her arms.

"I like a challenge," she replied. He turned and waved the others away before gesturing towards the space in front of him to Calypso, who inclined her head and stepped forward.

Ronon's attack came without warning, and she barely had enough time to evade before he grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her off of her feet.

"Shit!" she had enough time to yelp before her back met mat and all the air went whooshing out of her lungs. He let go of her, and just knelt beside her with a 'too-smug' grin on his face. "Fast," she gasped, and he nodded.

"Where I come from, there are two types of people," he told her, and she sucked in a breath.

"The quick and the dead? That was a great movie," she babbled, looking around as the room stabilized. "Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead, I can still feel my back." she muttered, and Ronon laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh, and it came straight from the belly. Then he looked down at her, grabbing one of her arms and stood up, pulling her with him. She staggered on her feet, but stayed standing, and then looked up at him. "One day I'm gonna be good enough to kick your ass, Ronon," she promised him, and he snorted again, but his smirk was friendly.

"That'll be the day," he answered, and she patted his arm before stumbling back over to her stuff, collecting it and then moving on. Lunch was about ready to be served, so she headed to the cafeteria. Her smile reappeared when she saw that John and Rodney were in line already. She headed over, getting to the back and turning her hundred watt smile on the people in line.

"Hey, do you mind if I cut in? Wanna hang out with my brother. Hi how are you. Do you mind if I get ahead of you? Only if it's not too much trouble; really? Thanks," and so on, until she got to John. "Boo," she said, and he turned to look at her, and then at the people behind her.

"Cal," he said, in a 'you know better' tone, which she just laughed at, because it sounded ridiculous coming from him.

"Just want to hang with my twin," she whined, and he rolled his eyes.

"You're like a two year old,"

"Look who's talking," she giggled, looking at Rodney. "Hey, McKay, how's your project goin?" she asked, and he blinked at her.

"How'd you find out about it?" he asked. She took a deep breath, shoving her hands in her pockets and shrugging.

"Powers of observation. You weren't drinking your coffee, your eyes never left the screen, but mostly," she tilted her head and smirked. "Mostly it was Zelenka."

"Zelenka?" asked Rodney, and she nodded, which confused Rodney, because Zelenka hadn't been in the lab all morning. He was in the control room, running some sort of test on the dialing computers.

"Yeah, he told me you were working on a way to charge a dummy ZPM to use in case the Wraith attack again." she explained, and he rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "So how's it going?" she asked, but the question didn't have the effect that she expected. Instead, Rodney sighed, folding his arms.

"Not well," he answered, and her smile faded, before she looked at him. She really wanted to make him feel better.

"Oh," she said, before her face lit up again. "So have you tried the Salon/Shop thingy?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes.

"Because 'thingy' is such a scientifically acceptable term," he snapped, before scowling. "No, I haven't," he answered, and she pouted.

"Why not?" she asked, and John rolled his eyes behind her.

"Jeez, Cal, give the man a break, he's busy all the time. I practically had to drag him here just to get him to eat." whined the military commander. Cal raised an eyebrow, surprised. Then she looked at Rodney.

"Okay, that's going to change," she told him, and he gaped at her.

"Excuse me?" he squeaked. Cal held up a hand.

"You're no use to this city if you drop dead from hypoglycemic shock, or hunger, or dehydration," she listed, and he blinked, blindsided by her knowledge of his dietary condition. "And you will get dehydrated if you keep drinking seven cups of coffee a day." she added.

"Whoa, stop right there, you Kirk-clone-caffeine-Nazi," he interrupted her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Don't mess with the coffee." he warned her, but she just rolled her eyes, studying her nails and looking generally unconcerned. "You will never have hot water again," he threatened, and she smirked.

"What makes you think I take hot showers, McKay?" she purred, and the man's annoyed territorialism derailed, his face going blank as he blinked. John just shook his head and sighed, looking at the ceiling as if pleading for divine intervention. They picked up their trays and moved down the line, until they came to the section with the actually cooked food. Calypso smiled at the window cook, who flushed, smiling back. "Hi," she greeted. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please," he muttered, before filling up his tray. Calypso shot him a raised eyebrow, but then turned back to the window cook.

"I was wondering if you could tell me what the ingredients in today's dishes are?" she asked, immediately capturing Rodney's interest. John just groaned.

"Oh, damn, I forgot," he sighed, and Cal shook her head.

"It's not a big deal, Johnny," she assured him, but Rodney looked curious and the window worker looked nervous. Cal smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm allergic to cilantro and celery seed," she explained, raising Rodney's eyebrows.

"You're allergic?" he demanded, and she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed a little as she gave him a confused smile.

"Uh, yeah," she answered, "About as allergic as you are to citrus and bees. That's a bummer, by the way, because I love chocolate oranges," she told him, and he stared. "Rodney, we're kind of holding up the line," she chuckled, and he flushed, moving away. John watched his friend go with a curious expression on his face and then turned to face his sister, who smirked. "Hmm," she hummed, turning back to the server. "So, cilantro? Celery seed?" she asked, and the guy shook his head.

"No, ma'am," he answered, "And I'll make sure Chef knows about your allergies, so there won't be any mix-ups in the future," he added, and she beamed at him, making him blush.

"Thanks, Sergeant…"

"Wilcox," he supplied, and she nodded.

"Well, thank you Sergeant Wilcox," she said, and he nodded. Cal filled up her tray and then snagged an extra cupcake before going over to her brother's table and sitting next to McKay, who glanced at her and then looked determinedly at his own plate.

"So, if you're twins…"

"How come she has allergies?" John asked, and Rodney nodded. "We don't know. Something to do with genealogy," he answered off-handedly. They both stopped when Calypso deposited her extra cupcake onto McKay's tray and then started digging into her own. McKay looked at John, who shrugged, before picking up the pastry and giving it a sniff. When the smell test didn't reveal anything, Cal looked at him.

"I could test it for you if you want. I'm not allergic to citrus, so it won't kill me if there is any," she offered. He looked at her, scrutinizing her expression for a moment before handing the sweet back to her. Carefully peeling down the paper on one side, she took a small bite that was equal parts icing and cupcake, swirling it around her mouth for a moment. "Mm, carrot cake batter and cream cheese icing. No citrus there." she told him, holding it back out for him to take. He looked slightly relieved, reaching out to take the cake and then staring at her when their fingers touched. She smiled at him, and he abruptly became interested in his meal again. She stifled a chuckle and turned back to her own meal, only to look up again at the appearance of her team leader, Major Lorne.

"Ms. Sheppard," he greeted, and she smiled, but the smile was contained.

"Major Lorne. What's up?" she asked. "You here for lunch? You can sit if you'd like," she offered, but he shook his head.

"I've eaten thanks. I just swung by to tell you that our next mission briefing is tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred," he told her, and she nodded sharply.

"Understood. I'll be there," she answered. He left. Calypso looked down at her food and didn't say anything. John watched her for a long moment and then reached over, wrapping his hand over her forearm. She looked at him, surprised.

"Hey," he said, and she blinked. "You okay?" he asked, and her confusion faded into a sad, 'soldiering on' expression. Rodney looked at her too, and she gave them a small, barely there smile.

"I'll live," she answered, taking a deep breath. "I won't get over it, but I'll live, and I'll learn from it, so…" she shrugged. John nodded his face full of concern. "Thanks, John." Thanks for not pretending it never happened, she wanted to add, but didn't, going back to her food. John nodded, letting go of her arm and filling his own fork. Rodney remained silent, busy thinking of the first time he was a witness to the death of a colleague in this place. It wasn't easy, but at least he'd had time to get used to the danger, not just from the Wraith, but from the other people who lived there.

Calypso had been ill-prepared for the dangers of this life, but she had jumped into it head first anyway, and in that way, she was more like Sheppard than he'd suspected. Rodney wondered if she shared the same fearless leader with a savior complex attitude as John.

8888

The days were short on Atlantis, and the nights were long.

This wasn't strictly true, if you looked at it from a factual point of view. Atlantis's day was eighteen hours, which was exactly how long the nights were, but the days seemed shorter, because of Einstein's theory of relativity. 'Time flies…' and all those other clichés.

Rodney rubbed his hand over his face and sighed, staring at the diagnostic that was still running. Searching for something specific in the Ancient Database was a bit like going to the Library of Congress and asking for a book when the only bits of information you have are that it's about cats, and the cover is blue. Groaning, he leaned back in his chair, contemplating napping in his lab.

Eventually he decided against it, because there was no telling how he'd wake up, or who would be there. He had a sudden vision of waking up naked to the sight of Calypso with a camera, and shuddered. Thinking of his best friend's sister, though brought to mind something else, and he rolled his eyes, opening his bottom drawer and pulling out the thong that Cal had slipped him. He shook his head, getting to his feet and grumbling something about Kirk and how he never wore a thong as he walked towards the door. The only other people in the room were Miko, Zelenka, and Kavanagh, but just the same, he raised his voice and ordered everyone to stay away from his desk if they didn't want an in depth education of the sewer systems of Atlantis before leaving and making his way to Cal's quarters.

He'd made a point of finding out where she was living, so that he could avoid walking past in the mornings, as that would invariably lead to disaster, and a possibly painful dismemberment performed by her brother.

Now though, he made a bee line for her door, knocking when he got there. When no one answered, he checked his watch and then flushed. Shit! It was almost midnight! Usually it wouldn't have mattered, but on a planet that had a thirty-six hour day, it was pretty much a given that people (normal people, not scientists), especially those who weren't used to the time difference were zonked out by Thirty-One Hundred if they even made it that long, and that had been five hours ago!

He was just about to go when the door opened, revealing Calypso wrapped in a towel, dripping wet.

Rodney's brain short circuited for a moment, and all he could do was stare.

Calypso didn't appear tired, nor did she seem to have any intention of going to sleep in the near future, however, it was apparent that she'd just been in the shower, and this was the part that Rodney's brain was having trouble with. He watched a drop of water slide down the side of her face to her chin and hang there before someone in the electricity part of his brain kicked the generator and he blinked, his face bursting into color.

"Uh…" he started eloquently, forgetting what he was going to say or even why he was there. Several possible reasons sprang to mind and were immediately ejected, because, hey, self preservation and his best friend's sister. He shook his head, but she chuckled.

"Something I can help you with, Rodney?" she asked, almost innocently, which brought a slightly confused expression to his face. "Something I can turn on for you?" she purred, and he didn't whimper.

He didn't. Honest.

Clearing his throat, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the scrap of green fabric that had brought him to her door, holding it out. Her face exploded into a predatorial grin, putting him immediately on the defensive. Reaching out, she took the thong, but she also took his hand, and he tugged ineffectually at it.

"I was just setting up my chess board. You wanna play?" she asked. There was nothing remotely innocent about the question and he knew that he should say no and go back to his lab where Zerlenkums and Kavanagh and that little Chinese woman would keep him safe, but he felt his feet moving, and he couldn't stop looking at her, powerless to stop himself as she pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

He was so screwed.