Here's another! The story should start picking up from here. :)

"I can't wait to get off base," Lacey groaned as she bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet. Emma stood next to her in the vast jumper bay, waiting for the pilot to arrive and take the small group to the mainland. There were two other scientists and a captain waiting with them. "You know, as a botanist, I really expected to spend less time in a lab and more time in the field," she ruminated.

"Me too," Emma agreed, "I really need to see some grass…or dirt…or something."

The pilot walked through the doors with Ronon at his side. Emma felt her stomach leap a little. When he had mentioned this to her, she hadn't been sure if he was going to be going too. They made brief eye contact, but other than that, he seemed to ignore her. Her stomach dropped. He silently strode into the jumper behind the pilot and the rest followed, settling into their seats in the rear compartment.

"Dr. Peters," the pilot said as he twisted in his seat to look back at her, holding his finger to his earpiece, "You're being paged to the botany lab."

"What?" Lacey asked, disappointment evident on her face.

"There's apparently a situation in the botany lab and they require your assistance," he told her.

"Oh bloody hell," she sighed, standing up and leaving the jumper. "I bet it's that damn Venus flytrap thing that SGA3 brought back again. Don't have too much fun without me, Em!" she called back, dragging her feet.

Emma smiled and waved. The bay doors opened, the pilot closed the door of the jumper and they took off.

About an hour and a half later, they had arrived. Ducking her head as she stood up, she excitedly stepped out onto land and took a deep breath of fresh, perfumed air and began to cough. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her inhaler and used it. She hated how easily her asthma was provoked. The major began speaking. "Ok, doctors Nelson and Cabelas, you're with Captain Simpson and myself," he instructed, "We will be visiting the village and taking blood samples. Ronon and Dr. Rogers, you're welcome to come with us or you can go off on your own. We would stress that you stick together. Dr. Rogers, you've never been here before and are unarmed so…"

"So you figured I needed a big strong man to protect me?" she asked in a southern belle accent.

"No—it's just—" he stammered.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled, striding past him as she gazed at her new surroundings, "I'm just messing with you. I understand."

The two groups split up and Emma followed Ronon.

"What was that thing you just breathed in?" he asked, looking ahead, as they began walking up a hill covered in tall grasses and small marigolds.

"Oh. It's called an inhaler," she replied, pulling it out of her pocket, "I have asthma…it's a disease…I go into debilitating coughing fits if I don't take my medicine like that," she explained.

He nodded.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Nowhere," he responded.

"Right," she nodded slowly, "So…it doesn't matter if there's somewhere specific I'd like to go?" she shrugged.

"Is there somewhere specific you'd like to go?" he asked.

"No," she smirked.

"Didn't think so," he said shortly.

They walked in silence for a good five minutes before either one of them spoke, but Emma was fine with that. She was taking in everything around her and enjoying the feel of the occasional quiet breeze on her face. It looked to be the beginning of autumn here. The prairie grass was not quite dead but a few of the leaves on the distant trees were yellow. The sun cast a gentle, golden light on everything it touched.

"What's with the boots?" Ronon finally asked, breaking the silence.

"They're cowboy boots," she smiled proudly with a hand on her hip, stopping to show them off.

He looked her up and down. "Meaning?"

"I'm from Texas," she answered simply.

He said nothing, but looked down at her.

"Right," she said to herself, "I keep forgetting. Sorry." She paused. "I'm from Texas, which is a state in the southwestern United States. At least the part where I'm from, there's a lot of ranch land and cattle," she explained. "I grew up working on a horse ranch, so ever since I can remember I've had a sturdy pair of cowboy boots on my feet."

"Is that why you talk different than the others?" he asked.

"Because I'm from Texas?" she clarified, "I suppose," she answered slowly, narrowing her eyes. "I'm actually really surprised you noticed. Hardly anyone ever mentions my accent. After going to school in Massachusetts, I kind of beat it into submission," she joked.

"It's just a few words you say," he said, still looking off to the horizon.

"Like what?" she asked, her eyes locked on his strong profile, intrigued that he had noticed this much about her.

"'Been,'" he answered, "and sometimes 'I' and you say 'y'all'."

"Oh guilty as charged," she laughed, looking away, "'Y'all' is always the dead give away."

"And your name," he said, turning his face to look at her.

"How do I say my name?" she asked, her voice more seductive than she had expected it to be. She cleared her throat.

"'Emma,'" he imitated with a roguish smirk.

She felt her stomach leap again and paused, studying at him as he looked back at her. "You know," she began, "sometimes when you look at me, I feel like you're undressing me with your eyes," she finished, only half joking.

He stopped and so did she. "Is that a bad thing?" he retorted.

A chill ran up her spine. She surveyed him from bottom to top and stared into his eyes. "I haven't decided yet," she replied. She started walking again and he followed. "Where are you from?" she asked in turn.

"A planet called Sateda," he said.

"What's it like?" she asked innocently.

"It was beautiful," he answered, "It was bright, full of people …but simple." He paused. She suddenly had remembered what Lacey had told her a few weeks ago about his home planet and felt her heart plummet before he said anything. She closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next. "It was completely destroyed by the Wraith almost ten years ago."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "How—how did you manage to escape?" she asked timidly.

"I didn't," he responded. He didn't speak for a while after that.

"I'm sorry I asked," she finally blurted out, stopping.

He too stopped and looked down at her. He was massive, truly an imposing man, and she suddenly had the desire to run in the opposite direction. "It's all right. Really. Don't worry about it," he said, touching her arm. She flinched and jerked her arm away. He looked confused.

"Sorry," she spat out quickly.

"You were impressive yesterday," he said, changing the subject and beginning to walk again, "with Mahtab and the rest of his people." He looked over at her. "A hundred people would have died if you hadn't been there."

"Thanks," she smiled, looking up at him.

Night fell and they were finally making their way back to the jumper.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"You apologize a lot," Ronon interrupted.

"Sorry, I didn't realize it," she said quickly, then closed her eyes and blushed, realizing she had done it again. Old habits die hard, she thought.

He smiled a small smile. "What were you gonna say?" he prompted.

"I was going to say that I feel like I've been talking all about myself and not letting you get the chance to speak."

"I'm not exactly a man of many words," he professed, glancing at her.

"Right," she nodded, "I'd normally ask you what your favorite movie or your favorite song or something is right about now," she shrugged, "but… I have a feeling that won't get us very far," she anticipated.

"Probably not," he agreed. "Why did you decide to come here?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself. The air was turning cold and she had been stupid not to bring a sweater. "It's a long story," she breathed, staring up at the two waxing moons in the night sky, suddenly feeling as mysterious as Ronon.

Neither one spoke after that. A few minutes later, she felt something warm over her shoulders. "Take this," Ronon said, laying his heavy coat over her shoulders. It was so long, it almost dragged on the ground when she wore it.

"No, I really don't—" she began.

"I'll be fine," he said, cutting her off.

She pulled it closer and could feel her cheeks getting red. The coat smelled like good quality leather and for the first time in a month, she suddenly felt like she was back at home, polishing a pair of boots or a saddle. She wondered if this was his way of trying to make a move. He was a difficult man to read. They made it back to the jumper and everyone was staring at them.

"You're one hour overdue!" the major scolded.

"And?" Ronon asked, not looking at him.

"We thought something had happened to you! I sent Captain Simpson out looking for you! Where was your radio?" he asked sternly.

"Must have left it behind," Ronon answered snarkily, "My mistake."

The major glared at him and Ronon glared back. They all loaded into the puddle jumper, but Ronon didn't sit shotgun like he did on the way over, most likely because of his altercation with the major, Emma assumed. Instead, he sat in the back next to her. While they waited for the captain to return, the other scientists were still staring, perhaps intimidated by his stature and presence. Emma scrunched her mouth and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding their eyes, and flipped his coat around to use it like a blanket. Out of breath, the young captain arrived, purposefully looked away from Ronon, and headed to the front compartment. Steadily, and with next to no turbulence, the jumper ascended into the air to begin its hour and a half long journey back to Atlantis. Before Emma realized it, she had fallen asleep.

Again, thank you everyone who's reading and reviewing. It makes me really happy!