Sheppard arrived to the daily meeting a few moments late and quite hung over the next morning. He had taken to meeting with McKay, Ronon, Lorne, Teyla, and Beckett each morning just to get an idea of where Sateda stood on various projects. Lorne kept an eye on new development in the city while Ronon split his time between the Satedan teams and training newcomers. Teyla oversaw the agricultural side of their city. McKay spent most of his time in his lab, and Beckett's clinic stayed busy. Today, however, Sheppard couldn't concentrate. He'd awakened late, the bright spring sun causing his already-pounding head to hurt even worse. He felt like he was operating under water, barely able to focus for more than a few seconds.

Last night, after Mara's little bombshell, he and Beckett had sat in the tavern for several hours. Beckett had sipped at one tankard of ale while John downed one after the other. His goal hadn't been to get drunk but, rather, to cope with the idea that he was about to be a father. While his little tryst with Mara had been anything but based on love or a relationship, he refused to leave her to raise his child alone. That one decision would change everyone at this meeting, and he'd been unable to see past much more than that last night.

His attention snapped back in place as Lorne mentioned a name that Sheppard hated. "What?"

McKay scowled. "Geez, Sheppard, have you even been listening?"

Glancing at Beckett—who had all but carried him back to his home after his little drinking binge last night—Sheppard lifted his chin. "Yes."

"Liar." McKay rolled his eyes. "Lorne was saying Kavanagh came to see him a few weeks ago."

"Oh." Sheppard turned to Lorne. "About. . .?"

"The Satedans." The major eyed Ronon. "Last night, Ronon got a visit from Solen about the same thing."

Feeling like he'd missed something really big, Sheppard frowned. "What about the Satedans?"

Across the table, Beckett narrowed his eyes. "Colonel, are you alright?"

"Fine." Sheppard waved off his concern. "What about the Satedans?" he asked again.

Ronon looked at him with a deadly expression that Sheppard knew meant someone would eventually die. "They're working with the Wraith."

Sheppard eyed everyone, deducing from their expressions that they'd already responded to this news. "And you know this how?"

Lorne sighed. "First, Kavanagh came to see me. Then, last night, Solen Sincha went to see Ronon about it."

"And you trust Sincha?" Sheppard asked. "Last I knew, the two of you were like oil and water."

Lorne shrugged. "I never said I trusted him. But he's the second witness we have of this problem, and I don't think we need to ignore it."

"Did he say who it was?"

Surprisingly, Ronon growled. "Orsic."

Teyla blinked, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. "The man who saved Olina's life?" She turned to Sheppard. "Colonel, if Orsic is in league with the Wraith, then he could have orchestrated things to put himself into a position of favor with us."

Sheppard nodded and immediately regretted it. "What do you want to do?" he asked Lorne. He was too hung over and distracted to make a sound decision, and his current circumstances only reinforced that.

Lorne pressed his lips together. "I thought about it all night. I think we should use Kavanagh."

McKay spewed the strong tea he'd brought to the meeting in an old insulated cup he found at the Alpha site. "You what?"

Lorne grinned at the reaction. "Several of the Satedan teams, including Orsic's, are down a man from the building collapse. I've already been talking to them about mixing our peoples to maximize our strengths and weaknesses. What if we insert Kavanagh onto Orsic's team, acting as their scientist? He could report things to Sincha, since he spends most of his evenings in the tavern, and Sincha can bring those reports to us."

"A spy?" McKay asked incredulously. "You want to use someone as arrogant as Kavanagh as a spy?"

Sheppard looked at Lorne. "He's got a point."

Ronon straightened. "Who would suspect Kavanagh? Yeah, he's arrogant, but he's perfect. This way, we don't have to deal with his arrogance while we determine how much truth there is to his claims."

Sheppard sat for another long moment as he tried to think things through. The news about Mara yesterday had shaken him, but this was too important to decide on while hung over. Still, he couldn't give in so easily. Turning to each person at the table, he gave them a questioning glance.

Teyla shifted in her chair. "There is a strange logic to Major Lorne's idea." She smiled, but it wasn't a pretty smile. It looked like she had just cornered her prey and was ready to pounce. "Kavanagh has been a source of contention for many of my people of late, and having him out from under foot would help the Athosians at the same time as determining how severely Sateda has been compromised."

Sheppard accepted that with a nod and glanced at Carson. The doctor shrugged. "Well, I must admit I know nothin' about intelligence gatherin'. But, I agree with Teyla. If we've been compromised, we need to know as quickly as possible."

McKay snorted, his face changing from incredulous to panicked. "Seriously? You're all agreeing that Kavanagh, of all people, should be sent undercover?"

Lorne faced the physicist. "You got a better idea, McKay?"

"Me? Well. . . ." He shrugged. "No."

Sheppard let out a deep breath and met Lorne's eyes. "Do what you need to do."

The meeting broke up a short while later, and Sheppard left before anyone else. He knew they all watched him with varying levels of concern and confusion, but he refused to answer any other questions until he'd spoken with Mara. He rushed down the street, his headache fading in that weird way of his. By noon, his hangover should be gone and his mind clear. Unfortunately, his mind wouldn't wait that long.

He found Mara just leaving the guest quarters she'd been given. She wore the same yellow dress from the previous day, but her hair fell around her shoulders in ringlets. She looked more like Gisli at that moment than at any other time. Sensing his presence, she drew up short. "John!"

"Morning." John tried for nonchalant but couldn't quite pull it off.

She gave him a strained smile. "I was just on my way to see Dr. Beckett."

"Yeah." John stayed in place. "Listen. About yesterday. . . ."

"I'm sorry for announcing it so suddenly." Mara glanced down at her hands. "I could have been a bit more tactful."

John silently agreed that she could have, but he knew he would have responded the same way. "You're sure? That it's. . . ."

"Yes!" But her eyes fluttered away from his face as quickly as she spoke.

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly doubting her word that the child was his. "Mara."

"I'm. . . ."

"If there's any chance this kid's not mine, I deserve to know!"

"John, the devices we have to use are very good." She looked into his face, pleading with him. "I ran a scan and determined that my child carries the gene of the Ancestors. The same gene that is in your blood."

"But you're not sure it's mine."

"Not completely."

John wanted to curse, to rant at her for panicking him. But he couldn't. "Who else was there?"

Her face darkened, and she shrugged. "John, you must understand that, until you arrived, I had no idea what my future held. I did what I had to do to ensure that I would survive. Coming to you that night was driven by that, but I swear to you that I have not been with another man since."

"Mara." John took her shoulders to keep her from moving around him. "Who?"

"Otho."

"The Chamberlain who tried to kill me?"

"Yes."

This time, John did curse. He dropped his hands and glared at her. "You came here to see if Beckett could figure out who the father of your child is."

"Yes."

"Then why tell me the kid's mine?"

"Because I believe he is."

"He?"

She shrugged. "My apologies. I have taken to referring to my child as a son, though I will be happy with a daughter as well."

"And your people?"

"They don't know." Mara motioned over his shoulder. "I really should go to see Dr. Beckett."

John waved her on her way and stayed outside the house she would occupy until all this was over. Out of everything that had happened, he definitely didn't need this now. He needed to be focused on preventing a rogue element within Sateda from giving away their location to the Wraith. He needed to have a clear head to deal with Kavanagh and Sincha and every person he met through the gate. He did not need to be worrying about whether or not he'd fathered a child during a one night stand!

This is what Beckett was concerned about. The voice in the back of his head couldn't have spoken at a worse time. John stalked to his house and pulled out tattered running shoes. Even though his head wouldn't appreciate the activity, he needed to think. And he liked to think while running. As he set out for the morning, he made one firm decision. His place was with his people, focused on his people, and leading his people. All these little trysts with off world women—as fun as they were—needed to stop. He would just have to find a better, healthier, way of dealing with stress from now on.

oOo

That afternoon, Lorne arrived at the clinic just as Lindsey and Kevin Marks left. The couple looked a bit upset, and Lindsey kept a hand over her slightly rounded abdomen. Lorne grinned in spite of their serious expressions. Having a new life come into the world in such horrible conditions wasn't what any parent wanted, but he knew that the Marks would make wonderful parents.

Once they disappeared, he slipped inside. Carson sat behind his desk, rubbing his eyes as if tired. Lorne frowned. "Hey, Doc."

Carson straightened. "Major." Then, he smiled sheepishly. "I'm assumin' you're not here to see me."

"No." Lorne grinned. "You can call me 'Evan,' though."

"Aye, I suppose I could." Carson returned the grin. "Shani stepped into the garden for a bit."

Lorne headed for the rear door of the clinic and then stopped. "Hey, Doc, everything okay? You seem a bit distracted, like Colonel Sheppard this morning."

"I'm fine." Carson stood. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Evan nodded in acceptance of that and left the doctor alone. If Carson didn't want to discuss what was happening, that was his choice. And his duty, if the issues involved the health of one of their people.

Outside, Shani stood in the center of the garden, holding the pitcher used to water the fledgling plants in one hand while she stared at the sky. The cool wind lifted the strands of hair that had fallen from her thick braid, giving her a somewhat wild appearance. She sighed deeply, not realizing she wasn't alone, and tucked the pitcher against her hip. In that moment, Evan wished for a camera. As it was, he would hold that memory in his mind so he could commit it to the second canvas Ronon had procured for him. With the rich Satedan soil and bright green shoots from the plants, the brilliant sky, and the tan coloring of her clothing, Shani made an unforgettable picture.

Clearing his throat, he followed the stone path he and Ronon had laid out when planting the garden. Shani turned and saw him, her smile strained though her eyes welcomed him. He slipped a hand around her waist. "Hey."

"Hi." She turned back to the sky, her use of Earth dialect thrilling him. She'd picked up more and more from him and Carson in recent days, but it rarely came out in her speech.

Evan frowned. "What's. . .ah. . .what's on your mind?"

She sighed again and moved away from his side to set the bright red pitcher against the clinic. "You know Mara came through the gate."

"Yes."

She returned to the spot where he stood, staying a small distance away as her eyes went back to the horizon. "She is with child. With John's child. Or so she says."

Evan blinked slowly and deliberately as he digested that bit of information. "And Sheppard knows?"

"Yes." Shani shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. "Seeing the way the news impacted him yesterday was disturbing. It was not happy news, not like it should have been."

"I can imagine." Evan shook his head. "Shani, when a man learns he's about to be a father, it changes how we think."

"I know that." She put a hand on his chest, startling him at the contact since she was typically a bit more withdrawn than that. "Evan, she's not certain the child belongs to Colonel Sheppard. She believes it does because of the Ancestor's gene the child carries, but she says it may be another man's. I wish I knew how to tell her that she should have been certain before telling Colonel Sheppard she was carrying his child."

Evan chuckled mirthlessly. "I agree." He frowned. "So what's got you bothered?"

"Mara brought devices. Items from the Tower that may help us determine who the true father of the child is."

"But. . .?"

"They are not programed to be used in such a way." Shani dropped her hand and folded her arms around her waist. "Carson believes he can reprogram them, but he needs a couple who know who the father of their child is to test it on."

"Marks and Novak." Evan suddenly understood their uncomfortable expressions.

"Yes."

"Hey, are you okay?" He hated asking, but she looked so tired right then.

"I will be fine." She smiled at his concern. "I did not rest well last night, and I just needed some air after that meeting with Lindsey and Kevin."

Hearing her refer to the Marks by their given names reminded him of just how close she was with various women on Sateda. To ask this of her friend must have felt like a betrayal of trust. Evan glanced at the sky, wondering if he could help. "Hey, want to chase the sunset?"

Shani frowned at him. "Chase the sunset?"

"Yeah." He grinned at his sudden idea. "Talk to Carson while I go get a Jumper. We'll take a flight, maybe land and walk, watch the sunset and come home later after you've had some time to yourself. Or, some time to ourselves."

A slow smile crossed her face. "I would like that, Evan. Thank you." She turned and walked back into the clinic, leaving Evan to himself. He turned back to the sky for just a moment. If he timed it right, the sunset would seem to last as long as he wanted based on how fast he flew the Jumper. Figuring he'd just discovered the best second date in the universe, he slipped out the garden gate and headed for the hangar.

oOo

The sun had begun to fully set when Ronon appeared at Olina's door. He knocked as usual but was surprised when she didn't answer. Moving to the window, he glanced inside and realized she wasn't there. A quick check of the back yard showed that she had escaped outside to enjoy the fading sunlight while working awkwardly with a spade and the dirt. Knowing she wouldn't mind, he slipped inside, set the painting he carried next to the front door, and moved through her home.

In the back garden, Olina crouched and patted the moist dirt over a few seeds. She'd taken to planting a few here and there each evening, hoping for some flowers and herbs to use in her bread and cooking. Ronon watched for a moment, giving her the chance to use the spade to dig a second hole, plant a few more seeds, and then cover it. Her splinted arm, still in its sling, wasn't much help as he knew she needed to keep it as clean as possible. Beckett had warned her against jostling it, and she often winced whenever something bumped it too hard.

The obvious reminder of her injury bugged Ronon. He never told her that, nor did he indicate it when he was around her. But seeing how close he'd come to losing her made him even more aware of how fragile life could be. He didn't want to waste a moment with her but had yet to find a way to tell her so.

Before he was ready, Olina turned and spotted him standing there. She froze and then straightened, a smile on her face as she walked toward him. "Ronon!"

"I. . .uh. . .let myself in."

"I can see that." The cheeky response earned her a grin. "I was not expecting you for another hour or more."

"Yeah, I figured we could take a walk or something." Asking her on a date like this was awkward, but he was rewarded with another smile.

"I would love to, Ronon, but I have bread rising." She shrugged. "We could sit out here."

"Sounds good." He motioned over his shoulder. "I brought something for you."

Olina looked curious and led him inside, brushing dirt from her hands as she went. She stopped at a pot of water she kept near the door and rinsed the remaining dirt while commenting that she would get more before the bread was ready to bake. Ronon listened to her chatter, not certain about his next move at all. In Satedan culture, his gift would be understood. But he knew that Olina would need an explanation before their evening could continue.

After checking the bread, she turned to him, and Ronon reached for the painting he'd set beside the door. "Uh. . .on Sateda, when we. . .uh. . .when we want to ask a woman to. . . ." He met her eyes. "It's custom to give a large gift to the woman. I brought this for you." He held out the painting, seeing the speculation in her eyes as she accepted it.

Ronon would never forget watching her unwrap the painting. As the fabric Lorne had used to wrap it fell away, Olina's jaw dropped. In front of Kiah's amazing mountains, Geir stood in robes he wore only for ceremonial events. His eyes sparkled with the same warmth he'd had in life, and he showed that same focus for which Kiah was known.

"Ronon! This is. . . ." Olina's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you!" With the painting still in one hand, she launched herself into his arms.

Ronon caught her and held her while she cried. It wasn't a bad thing that she wept, because she smiled through her tears as she studied the painting. He knew he'd given her one thing that she wanted more than anything: to see the face of her father. While he could not give what he truly wanted to give her—the chance to go back in time and speak with Geir once again—he felt like he had fulfilled her deepest desire.

Pulling away from him, Olina moved across the room. A small table had been set against the wall near her bed, and she propped the painting there, in a place of prominence. Ronon followed, gently putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling when she leaned against him. The painting looked good in her home, just as he knew it would.

She turned under his hands. "You said it is Satedan custom to give a woman a painting when. . . .you ask her to be joined to you?"

Suddenly nervous, he nodded. "Yeah. But. . .uh. . .if you. . . ."

"Why would I not?" Her smile faded slightly. "Ronon, back on Kiah, I was invisible. Gisli had the attention, the spotlight. Why would I not want to be joined to a man who makes me feel as beautiful as she was?"

He put a hand on her face, running his fingers through the roots of her hair. "You are more beautiful than she was." His brow lowered as he tried to figure out how to tell her that she took his breath away every time she smiled. But years of running from the Wraith had dulled the sentimentality that Melena had first brought to his life. Choosing to act rather than speak, Ronon lowered his head and kissed her.

oOo

Olina drew in a sharp breath when Ronon kissed her. She leaned against him, having dreamed of this day for weeks. He pulled her closer to him as he deepened the kiss, and she allowed herself to forget about everything around them. Her good hand curled into his shirt as she fought to keep her wits about her. In the end, it was a pointless exercise.

Ronon pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers and knew that he had been just as affected as she was. He had asked her to join with him for the rest of her life! On Kiah, it meant protection, provision, and companionship in addition to the natural, physical side of the relationship. The people from Earth called it being "married."

Now, she stared into Ronon's eyes, as amazed as always at how green they were. Her body hummed with awareness, and she suddenly understood a portion of what Gisli had found so enticing about seducing men. But it was different, as well. She knew that Ronon would never harm her or take advantage of her in spite of her misgivings about intimacy.

He had slipped both arms around her and now held her close as he had before. But things had changed. Olina's mind jumped from one subject to the next, all of them focusing on the man who held her. Kiah had several traditions concerning the joining of a man and a woman, and not all of them were as ornate as an Earth wedding.

Ronon lifted his head and grinned at her. "We should. . .uh. . .talk about this."

She nodded. "I agree." After that, she floundered.

"What do your people do for. . .joining?"

Olina felt her face heat. "Several things. There is a ceremony, usually performed by the bride's father. Or, more simply, the man and woman share a bed and they are joined."

He grinned. "I like that idea!" Then he frowned. "In the future, I mean."

She blinked up at him. "The idea appeals but. . . ."

He held up her injured arm. "I want you to be fully healed before we take this step." Then he glanced around. "And to have a better home than this."

"Ronon, I have no complaints about my home."

"But I do." He put a finger over her lips when she protested. "When we are joined by whatever tradition we choose, I want for you to have a home where we can live for years, not a room that will soon be too small."

She smiled at him, already enjoying the way he talked as if they would become a family. "I understand."

"Good." He kissed her again, this second kiss just as intense as the first. The desires swirling through Olina startled her with their strength. She had felt them for some time when Ronon was around, but their relationship had changed in the last few moments. He growled slightly when she responded to his kiss and pulled out of her arms completely. "Maybe we should. . .uh. . .eat or something? Before we. . . ."

"Yes!" Olina blinked again, this time in surprise at the fact she would have gladly bonded with him that night. "Perhaps you should tell me about Sateda's customs, and we can make a better decision then."

His grin returned, reminding her that he was not always as wild as he portrayed. Many times, Ronon stayed silent because he had nothing to say, not because he could not relate to people. In the time that she had known him, he had showed her a softer, more uncertain and definitely more sympathetic nature than the warrior-turned-Runner that others saw. His obsession with food, however, was the same no matter where he was.

She blinked. Food! "My bread!" The spell of Ronon's kisses broken, Olina rushed to salvage the bread dough she'd forgotten about when he offered her gift and asked her to share his life. Behind her, Ronon laughed, and she thought that she would happily listen to that sound every day for the remainder of her life.

~TBC