"With you I will be quite frank," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "There are not many left of us old friends! That's why I so value your friendship."

Anna Mikhaylovna looked at Vera and paused. The countess pressed her friend's hand.

"Vera," she said to her eldest daughter who was evidently not a favourite, "how is it you have so little tact? Don't you see you are not wanted here? Go to the other girls, or..."

The handsome Vera smiled contemptuously but did not seem at all hurt.

Sheppard sighed, laying War and Peace face down on the bed beside him still open at the page he was reading. He'd read that handful of paragraphs several time and they just weren't sinking in. The main reason for that was he didn't want to be in his room reading; he wanted to be in his office keeping an eye on Elizabeth. The techs had set up a screen in there so images of her treatment and confinement could be relayed straight to him when he wanted to know what was happening. Keller hadn't been too happy with a non-medical person observing her patient so closely, claiming it was a breach of Elizabeth's human rights. But then, when Sheppard had pointed out the nanites were threat to every person on the base and were therefore also a military issue, not just a medical one, she'd been forced to back down. Keller had disobeyed his orders once, he'd be damned if he'd let her do that again.

So, he'd spent the past several hours in his office – Elizabeth's office – monitoring the situation, until Dr Keller had arrived to give him an update and, noticing how tired he looked, had insisted that he go to his room and get some rest. Though he'd felt like disagreeing just to prove who was in charge, he'd realised that was childish and detrimental to his own well-being and so had consented.

Now, constantly distracted by what might have happened to Elizabeth, he regretted giving in to her. Though he didn't want to, he kept remembering what it felt like to have his mind probed by the Replicators, the sensation of hot pokers sliding in and out of his brain, the abuse of his thoughts and memories – the destruction they made him imagine was real. Had Elizabeth been put through that time and again, and if so what damage had it done to her? It was giving him a headache just thinking about it.

Much as he knew he couldn't physically do anything to help, he couldn't shake the feeling his place was overseeing their 'patient'. Although he was only temporarily in charge, at this moment all the people inside this city came under his care. It was common sense that he should keep an eye on things until they were certain Elizabeth was okay, yet, at the same time, he also knew he desperately needed sleep to be able to perform his leadership duties effectively. Much as it galled him to admit it, he knew Keller was right to suggest he should leave it to the medical team to monitor her for the night. The sooner he got some sleep, the sooner he could get back to work in the morning.

Punching his pillows flat, he lay back and closed his eyes in an attempt to get some much-needed rest. With Elizabeth back among them he knew he should be able to relax a little, but something still felt off about the situation, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Part of him had wanted to question her straight away, to understand as much as he could of what she'd been through not just to assess the threat she posed, but also, at some level, to confirm his mistrust was justified. However, another part of him had willingly accepted Keller's observation that she needed to recuperate before she would allow Elizabeth to face such a stressful situation. Though it postponed his understanding of the nature of her imprisonment, he figured since the situation appeared to be contained, he could wait a little longer.

The image of her huddled in the back of the jumper, her hands bound tightly in front of her, while everyone kept a safe distance away popped into his head, bringing with it a wave of pity and disgust; pity for her, and disgust that the Asurans had reduced them to the need to cuff her like a criminal. She didn't deserve this treatment; at least he didn't think she did. He'd sensed no malice or deception on her part, merely relief tempered with fear. He tried to imagine how she would feel knowing she could never be allowed to retake the position she'd once held on Atlantis. If someone told him he could no longer be part of Atlantis he would feel like his world had ended, and he guessed that was pretty much how she felt, too. Elizabeth was a strong leader, and even though they'd clashed sometimes, he'd always admired her. She would be a hard act to follow; there could be no doubting that.

He opened his eyes and looked around his room for something else to distract him from his worries. His eyes roamed over the photo of Eval Kneval on his nightstand, his skateboard, and then around the walls until they fell on his surfboard propped in the corner. What he wouldn't give to find a nice quiet beach where he could catch a few waves right now. Surfing always helped him clear his mind and relax, but since the city was in such a dire state, he couldn't just grab up his board and go pull a few cutbacks. Besides, there might yet be some unknown carnivorous beasts lurking near the shores of M35-177; they hadn't had time to find out. There weren't many things he missed about Earth, but knowing where it was safe to practice his favourite hobby was a bonus this planet couldn't provide him with...at least not yet.

Realising he wasn't going to get to sleep any time soon, Sheppard decided to go back to his office and watch the proceedings with Elizabeth a while longer, at least until exhaustion finally knocked him out, which he figured it had to do eventually.

He reached his door and activated it just as Teyla was about to announce her arrival on the other side. 'Oh, Teyla...I was just on my way out.'

Teyla looked just as shocked as he was on finding her there. 'John...I thought you had retired to your quarters for the evening.'

'Well...I had,' he said sheepishly, scratching his unruly hair. 'But since I can't sleep yet I thought I'd go check on Elizabeth again.'

'No need. I was just in the infirmary and Dr Keller assures me she is doing well and there are still no signs of any problems with the nanites. She also said I was to make sure you got some food and some rest, as she suspected you might try to return to work. So...' She lifted the tray she carried, offering it to him while still strategically blocking his exit route.

'Oh...thanks,' he muttered, taking it from her and stepping away from the door.

'It's lasagne,' she said as he turned his back. 'I know you like Italian food. Oh, and there's salad and orange juice because Dr Keller said you needed good food to keep up your energy levels.'

Sheppard suspected she was trying to keep the conversation open, and peered back over his shoulder at her. 'Smells good. Thanks.'

'Would it be all right if I joined you for a while,' she asked, raising her eyebrows in an expression caught somewhere between sympathy and hope.

Although his heart sank at the thought of one of Teyla's cunningly probing conversations, he nodded and gestured for her to come inside. She stepped into his room and allowed the door to slide shut behind her as Sheppard sat down on the bed and took the lid off his meal. It looked like a double serving, probably because Teyla knew he'd skipped lunch. She noticed things like that. 'What's in the flask?' he asked, noticing a metal container beside his bottle of orange juice.

'Hot milk to help you sleep later,' Teyla said, edging her way across to him, her fingers knitted together as she twisted her hands awkwardly in front of her. Sheppard sensed she had something specific she wanted to talk about and so invited her to sit. She perched on the end of his bed, leaving him plenty of room to manoeuvre as he ate.

'You must be overjoyed to have Elizabeth back among us,' she ventured, as he swallowed his first mouthful of lasagne.

Not looking at her, he loaded up his fork with more food. 'Well, it's certainly unexpected...'

'But you do not know whether to be happy or not?'

He chewed his food with the growing realisation he wasn't going to get away with ducking her questions. Teyla wanted to know how he was feeling, something he was never very comfortable with revealing, but that she had an uncanny knack for wheedling out of him regardless. 'It's early days, Teyla. We still don't even know if the repairs the nanites put in place will hold, let alone if anything worse has happened since then.'

He managed a few more mouthfuls while his friend pondered his response. 'Rodney believes the nanites continue to behave just as he intended them to. Are you worried they may malfunction?'

Pouring the contents of the juice bottle into the glass on his nightstand, Sheppard allowed himself to drink some before answering again. Teyla often pinned him down for these kinds of conversations at mealtimes, as if she thought the lure of food was too strong to stop him making an escape. But it was never the food keeping him there; he just didn't mind Teyla thinking that so went along with the charade.

'Elizabeth was in Asuran hands for any time up to three days. I think it would be pretty foolish not to feel cautious about how that time might have affected her.'

'You do not trust her?' Teyla asked, her eyes widening just a fraction.

'Oh, I trust Elizabeth...but I sure as hell don't trust the Replicators. I don't know...it's just that finding her so soon seems too...convenient.'

Teyla nodded while he ate some more. He'd been so wrapped up in dealing with the latest developments he hadn't realised how hungry he was until he'd started eating. His stomach ached at the introduction of the food, and he suspected he would need more than just hot milk to settle it enough to get him a good night's sleep. He could always slip out for more food if necessary. He was the leader of Atlantis, after all; they couldn't actually confine him to quarters.

The Athosian remained quiet for a moment or two longer before asking, 'Do you believe she has been sent here to entrap us in some way?'

Sheppard shrugged as he chewed thoughtfully, not really understanding what his feelings toward Elizabeth were right now. He was happy to have her back, yet, at the same time, simply having her there put the entire city and its inhabitants at risk, whether she'd been tampered with or not. No matter how supremely confident McKay was that he had made sure the nanites couldn't communicate with the other Replicators, the science involved in them was so sophisticated there could be no way anyone could be one hundred percent certain things would stay that way, not even him. Replicators had a way of adapting to their circumstances, and if there was even just the tiniest error in Rodney's programming, they would eventually find it and take advantage of that. Once again, he found himself wishing Elizabeth had died in the initial attack by the Replicator satellite, although it seemed likely that would inevitably have led to all their deaths. He hated feeling that way about her, but those nanites complicated things in ways he wasn't sure they could ever get past. No matter which way he looked at it, he felt he'd lost something special with Elizabeth; a bond had broken down that could never be fully repaired...at least not while she had those damned nanites inside her.

'John, are you all right?'

Teyla's gentle voice tugged him out of his thoughts and back to the here and now. His fork was poised halfway to his mouth where it had stopped while he thought about her question, and all that Elizabeth's abduction by the enemy meant.

'Er...yeah...yeah. I'm good,' he replied, nodding emphatically as if that would convince her of his honesty.

'You didn't answer my question,' she pointed out.

He sighed, shovelling in the last mouthful of his meal as he set his tray aside.

'I know. I'm not deliberately avoiding it, it's just that I can't really say what I feel. I want to believe she's our Elizabeth and she's come back to us, I want that more than anything in the world, but I don't want to get my hopes up in case...'

'...something goes wrong,' Teyla said flatly, finishing his sentence for him.

He noticed now that she looked a little crestfallen herself, something that was very unusual for her. Teyla was one of life's eternal optimists, much as he had been when he'd first arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy. Gradually, their fight with the Wraith and the loss of close friends and colleagues had dulled the shine for him, but Teyla had always come back just as strong as ever. He knew she'd taken the news of Elizabeth's 'death' badly; Ronon had told him he'd found Teyla crying over her belongings in her office and so had stayed to help to ease the burden she had taken upon herself. He, for one, had been very grateful she'd offered to clear Elizabeth's things, certain he couldn't have managed it himself.

'Are you okay, Teyla?' he asked. 'I didn't mean to worry you talking about all my doubts like that. I'm sure things'll work out.'

'Do not concern yourself,' she said, forcing on her customary smile. 'You have said nothing I didn't already suspect.'

He turned so he could face her a little more directly, hitching one leg up onto the mattress. 'Don't worry over this. Ronon's probably right; the Asurans just didn't see Elizabeth as worth their time and effort.'

This time when Teyla smiled at him, it was even more of a struggle for her. 'Well, let us hope Ronon is correct. Now, I will leave you to get some sleep. Be sure to drink that milk; it will help you to relax.'

She stood and collected up his meal things, heading for the door.

'Thanks for this, Teyla,' Sheppard called after her. 'You know...the meal and the talk.'

'You are always welcome, John,' she said, dipping her head respectfully as she left.

Looking at the flask on the nightstand then checking his watch, Sheppard decided to save the drink for later. Instead, he reached into his top drawer and pulled out a power bar from the supply he kept there in case he got a night time attack of the munchies. His fast metabolism often left him hungry after his evening meal, especially when he got stressed. The power bar seemed to top him up nicely, and then he stretched out on the bed, running over his chat with Teyla again.

Though it worried him that she, too, had doubts about the way Elizabeth had returned to them, it was also reassuring to know he wasn't the only one thinking it was all too easy. Not only had the Asurans released Elizabeth relatively unscathed, but they had also left her on a planet close enough to their new home for them to want to investigate it. That seemed like more than a mere coincidence to him, but he sorely hoped he was wrong. He really did want Elizabeth to be back for good.

He hadn't realised quite how close the two of them had grown until Dr Keller had told him the extent of her head injury. He'd found it hard to hold it together in front of the young doctor, and he didn't think he'd fooled her into thinking he wasn't as deeply affected as he really was for one minute. He'd almost cried in front of her, something he'd hardly done since he was a kid, although Carson's recent death had wrung a few reluctant tears from him, too. Way back when he was no more than six, when his horse had thrown him and he'd broken his arm, his dad had called him a wimp and told him only girls wailed the way he did, and he'd taken that message to heart.

But no matter how foolish he felt about reacting that way, he couldn't change the impact her loss had on him. He considered Elizabeth a good friend, one he even flirted with from time to time because he felt so comfortable with her, and that wasn't something he normally did with women he wasn't hitting on. Would he have cried if it had been Teyla, Rodney, or Ronon in that hospital bed that day? Damn right he would have, and every time he would have heard his father's voice picking at him, making him feel stupid and feeble just as he had through his childhood.

So, for the most part, he would continue to keep his feelings to himself. That was the legacy his father had given him; an ingrained belief that real men didn't let the pain show. He would grit his teeth and deal with Elizabeth in a professional way – no matter what the outcome or how troubled he was by the prospect of losing her again.