Okay, here we go! Another chapter without an overly-long, excessive wait. Yay!

First off, today, I'd like to thank my readers for their support. And second, I'd like to pose a question to anyone who may be familiar with the traffic function of this site. Here it goes:

In the country breakdown graph for hits and visitors, I have a hit/visitor that has no country listed beneath it. What on Earth does that mean?

(At the moment, I'm going with the, "hit from the Pegasus Galaxy," theory.)

And now, without further ado...

Happy reading! :)

Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate Atlantis, Steve, and/or any other SGA character. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and is strictly not-for-profit. The only things I own are: Dr. Mira Sheckle, The Glove, the plot, and other OC/plot-related bits.

Chapter Fourteen: Excursion – Part Two

3 years, 47 and ½ weeks earlier

"I must confess… I've seen a lot of weird things since coming to Pegasus. But this?" smiling ruefully, Elizabeth shook her head, "This takes the proverbial cake…"

"Yeah. It's pretty bizarre. Not quite sure what I think of it yet…"

Unclasping her hands, Atlantis's expedition leader straightened from her examination of the tank and turned to her military commander in amusement. "Not sure? Why, John, I'm surprised. I wouldn't think such a benign acquisition could shake you."

Major Sheppard shrugged, "Well, there're extenuating circumstances."

She raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

He pursed his lips, frowning at the object of their discussion pensively, "It's got the whole, brain in jar, surreal sci-fi thing going…"

Elizabeth's second eyebrow joined the first as he trailed into silence, "How's that 'extenuating?'" she prodded, intrigued.

Pacing around the jury-rigged, Plexiglas environment, Sheppard grunted, "Those movies never end well. Either for the brain," his blue eyes flicked to Weir's meaningfully, "Or the people keeping it…"

"Point taken." She smiled wryly, "We'll just have to be extra careful, then."

They stood quietly for a few moments, staring at the rescued hard-drive thoughtfully. It really was a surreal sight… The wraith device floated serenely in one of the Biology Department's fish-tanks, suspended within the prisoner's hastily concocted nutrient bath by a pair of rubber tourniquet hoses. Bubbles issued from perforated plastic pipes lying beneath it, obscuring the glowing ovoid in intermittent spurts as a machine aerated the solution to maintain oxygen levels. Several other elements and macromolecules, (including sodium and glucose), were also being monitored. Most of them, unfortunately, would have to be adjusted manually.

The infirmary's night staff would be busy…

Propelled by curiosity, Elizabeth sidled closer to one of the two smaller tanks flanking the large container, muttering, "I'm still amazed he managed to save it…"

"Yeah, it was touch and go for a while."

"So I heard," She peered into the transparent cube, eyeing the flaccid tentacle dangling sedately in its pink, crystal clear depths. One end snaked through an airtight seal connecting it to the large tank, where it merged with the tapered shell of the hard-drive. The other was free-floating. Its severed lips gaped, fluttering gently with a rhythmic sucking motion. Elizabeth tapped the Plexiglas, "And this is the intake…?"

"Aye, tha' it is," Carson poked his head up, appearing just beyond the tank. He was holding a grey plastic tub. Its contents rattled as he pushed himself up from his knees and nodded to the other small cube, "An' tha's waste disposal."

"Waste disposal," Elizabeth moved over to the third tank, where the drive's second tentacle dangled. Its fluid level was significantly lower than the intake tank's, and the pink had a slight orange tinge. "I assume that's the reason for the color change?"

"Indeed, it is," Rattling with every step, Dr. Beckett came around the set up. As he joined Dr. Weir, Major Sheppard snatched one of the objects from his tub.

"What's this, Doc?" Sheppard turned the white bottle he'd snagged over so he could see its label. He lifted an eyebrow, "Powdered glucose…"

"Aye, powdered glucose. We needed a bunch o' tha' for the solution."

Upending the bottle, which was empty, the Major glanced into the tub. It was filled with dozens of chemical bottles of varying shapes and sizes. White, yellow, pharmacy orange. A few clear. None had caps, but despite this, none were spilling anything. Sheppard frowned, "That's a lot of empty bottles."

Carson nodded, "Ah know. We needed a large volume o' two different solutions to stabilize the hard-drive." He glanced at Weir, "Ah won' lie. It could be a problem."

Elizabeth mirrored Sheppard's frown, "How so?"

"We're cut off from Earth, so our medical supplies are finite," Dr. Beckett gestured to the large tank with his tub, "And tha' beastie's goin' to need periodic replenishin'. Now, Steve assures me its consumption will decrease after it's finished healin', but tha' doesn' change the fact tha' it'll still require a certain amount o' food."

Sheppard pointed at the waste tank, "Can't we just recycle that?"

"Not without riskin' toxic shock. It has to be treated first."

"Treated?" Elizabeth pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Aye. Ah've got the Chemistry Department workin' on a way to filter out the toxins Steve listed. But it'll still need vital nutrients replaced before it can be reused."

"And we can't spare many more of those," Sheppard guessed.

"No," Carson heaved a regretful sigh, "I'm afraid tha' for rationin's sake, ah'll eventually have to pull the plug on this beastie. With your approval, Elizabeth, or not."

"I understand, Carson. And I've no intention of stripping the expedition of its resources this early in the game." Clasping her hands behind her back, Elizabeth moved over to the large tank, her brown eyes perusing the rosy, pulsing ovoid once more. "So…" her tone turned business-like, "How much time do we have with it?"

"A week," bottles rattled as Carson shrugged, "Maybe a week an' a half. Two tops, if its consumption decreases like Steve said. An' if the off-world teams can find some o' the raw materials needed to manufacture a few o' the nutrients from scratch."

Sheppard looked at his empty glucose bottle in surprise, "We can do that?"

"Aye, we can," Carson relieved Sheppard of the white container and dropped it into his tub with a hollow clunk, "Or rather, the Chemistry lads can."

"Finding local sources to replenish our stocks is half their job," added Elizabeth.

Major Sheppard eyed the grey tub's contents with interest, "But some compounds are harder to purify than others…"

"Tha's the heart o' the problem," selecting a small, clear twist-top tube, Carson held it up for them to see, "Take this, for example. Ah've been told quite emphatically, tha' this lass would require nigh on two months to replace from scratch."

Elizabeth gave a low whistle.

"An' tha's assumin' we could get our hands on the raw stuff."

"Which, I assume, we can't," Sheppard guessed.

"Tha's correct."

"Figures," Taking the tube from Carson, Sheppard peered exaggeratedly at it, trying to read. Tiny black writing, illegible against the clear background, spiraled around the cylinder in a seemingly never-ending stream. "What the heck IS this stuff?"

"Somethin' with an incredibly long name tha' ah'm not even goin' to try to pronounce," Carson took the tube back and returned it to the tub, "We affectionately call it, chemical Xex, an'—"

"Zex?" Sheppard gave Elizabeth a perplexed glance. She shrugged.

"Not 'Zex.' Xex. As in the element xenon."

"Oh, yeah. I knew that," He hadn't, of course, but what they hey?

Carson sighed, "It's a complex compound containin' trace amounts o' the element xenon. Since xenon is normally inert an' relatively non-reactive, it's hard to make."

Elizabeth and Major Sheppard stared at him.

He fidgeted uncomfortably in the growing silence, "Or so ah've been told."

Sheppard's finger pointed accusingly, "You've been hanging out with the Chemistry Department too much."

"Ah have not!" offended, Carson gestured to the hard-drive, "Ah'll have ye know, they were right useful helpin' Steve concoct this. He wanted several things tha' weren' readily available. They broke stuff into their constituents like tha'!"

As the doctor juggled the tub one-handed in an attempt to snap his fingers, Elizabeth raised a calming hand, "It's alright, Carson. We're only teasing."

Catching his collection of bottles before they spilled, the Scotsman suddenly looked sheepish, "Ah know. Ah'm sorry. It's just… It's been a wee bit frenzied here for the past few 'ours. Ah haven' quite recovered yet."

"I think I can understand that," Sheppard quipped. He was tired just from WATCHING the frenetic activity that'd taken place in the infirmary.

"Tha' wraith's a bloody taskmaster."

"How did that go, by the way?" Elizabeth asked.

Carson gave a weary, but impressed, sigh, "'E certainly knows his stuff, tha's for sure." Steve had begun listing the supplies they'd need in the jumper, relaying instructions as soon as Major Sheppard established radio contact. They'd had half of what they needed already gathered before the team got back.

"And how to get things done?" Elizabeth pressed.

"Oh, definitely. No complaints there. 'E's incredibly efficient. Knew just wha' corners could be cut. An' how to split the load to keep the timin' right."

At Carson's words, Sheppard frowned, remembering the skillfully organized chaos that'd surrounded Steve upon their return. He wasn't sure what he thought of THAT yet, either. The wraith had taken to ordering Carson's staff about like a fish to water. And the staff, in Sheppard's view, had listened way too easily.

Or maybe they'd just recognized the need for efficiency… He pushed the worry aside, returning to the conversation at hand. "Yeah, Steve was effective," he agreed, musingly. He glanced at Elizabeth, "Makes me wonder what rank he held."

Carson perked up, curious, "Ye haven' asked him?"

Sheppard shrugged offhandedly, "He never answers that question."

"Ah see…" Intrigued by the new mystery, Dr. Beckett turned pensive, "Well… 'E's obviously a tech o' some sort. An' given the management 'e displayed, 'e's probably got a team under him—"

Smiling at Carson's enthusiasm, Elizabeth laid a restraining hand on his arm, saying gently, "I'm not sure any of us are qualified to speculate on that topic."

"Why ever not? Someone has to."

"He's hundreds of years old. They all are. I doubt our concepts of rank can be applied in a way that successfully encompasses that sort of experience."

Beckett's face fell, "Ah suppose tha' makes sense…"

"We need more information."

"Tell you what," Sheppard added, "Next interrogation, I'll ask again. Who knows? Maybe he'll blink twice and give a different answer."

Carson frowned, "Wha' answer has 'e been givin'?"

"One blink, followed by silence," the Major raised an eyebrow, "Stony silence."

Beckett's mouth twitched with reluctant amusement, "Stony, ye say?"

Sheppard nodded seriously.

Glancing at Elizabeth, Carson hefted the grey tub with a chuckle, "Now ah know yer pullin' my leg. Steve hasn' been stony for weeks. Not since 'e put the glove on."

The Doc had a point. "Well," admitted Sheppard, "that might be because I haven't asked that particular question in weeks. Apparently it's overdue."

"Tha' it is," Carson chuckled again, "An' so am I. Dr. Morgan is waitin' for me at the inventory station. Ah told him ah'd bring the empties down for check-in."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and surveyed the infirmary floor, where Beckett had been kneeling earlier. It was littered with discarded wrappers, goo puddles, and other debris left over from the frenzied operation. The personnel on cleaning duty hadn't made it to this part of the room yet. "So that's what you were doing down there."

"Aye, collectin' these beasties," Dr. Beckett rattled his tub, "They got scattered all over. Now, if ye'll excuse me." Turning away, he started for the infirmary's exit, calling, "Ah'll see ye two later." Halfway to the door, he paused, then looked back with a puzzled expression. "Tha' reminds me. If ye see another o' the Xex tubes, could ye bring it to inventory for me? We used two, but ah can only find one. They're wee, clear li'le buggers. Darn difficult to see. Ah've been lookin' for it everywhere."

"We'll keep an eye out for it, Carson," Elizabeth smiled.

"Yeah," Sheppard surveyed the messy floor, "it's probably stuck in a corner somewhere."

"Ah'm more worried about it blendin' in an' getting' tripped over."

"We'll be careful," Elizabeth assured him, "Go, get some rest."

"Ah will," he glanced at the bottles, "Ah'm goin' off shift after this. If ye think o' any questions, ah'll be in my quarters, on call. Goodnight, Elizabeth, Major Sheppard."

"Night, Doc."

"Goodnight, Doctor. You did well today."

"Thank ye, lass." With a Swoooosh, the infirmary door slid open, and Carson and his plastic tub disappeared into the corridor.

The door swished closed again.

"Xex tubes…" Sheppard muttered, "That sounds wrong on so many levels."

Elizabeth laughed, "Please, don't give me ideas, Major."

"I'll try not to," Moving back to the tanks, he poked at a piece of gooey debris with his boot, exaggeratedly making sure it wasn't the missing tube.

Ignoring the childish display, Elizabeth resumed her examination of the hard-drive, "So…" she murmured, "We only have a week or two with this…"

"That's what the man said."

"Is that enough time to get the data out?"

Major Sheppard paused and crossed his arms, considering the question seriously for a few moments. Finally he looked at her, "You know what? I don't know."

The expedition leader raised an eyebrow, "You don't know."

"No, I don't." Unashamed of his ignorance, Sheppard shrugged and mussed his spiky hair, "After Rodney made it up here, I sort of got… Pushed aside," he wiggled his fingers at the glowing drive, "Organic computer surgery isn't really my department."

Elizabeth watched her military commander wryly, "I suppose not…"

"Plus it was really noisy," he rubbed an ear.

"I see…"

"McKay's voice is strident."

"Indeed…"

"And Steve was doing a lot of hissing…"

Elizabeth looked at him. Major Sheppard looked back.

Dropping the unconcerned stance, he abruptly clapped his hands together, "Right! Let's go find Rodney."

"Sounds like a plan." Amused, Elizabeth Weir glanced at the serenely glowing hard-drive one last time, then followed Sheppard deeper into Atlantis's infirmary, inspecting the floor for Carson's missing Xex tube as she went.

A minute later…

"I can't believe you LEFT me!"

"Aw, get over it, Rodney."

McKay huffed indignantly, "I will NOT get over it! You LEFT me!"

"Yeah! With Lieutenant Ford and Dr. Corde," Sheppard rolled his eyes in annoyance, "It's not like I left you ALONE."

"Oh! Right!" McKay lifted his hand, thrusting a finger in Sheppard's face, "ONE marine, and TWO scientists!" (A second finger shot up), "In a forest infested with HIPPO-sized, man-eating beasts! How is that NOT alone!?"

"Lieutenant Cadman was waiting for you at the 'Gate!" Sheppard slapped McKay's fingers away, "WITH her entire squad!" Seeing McKay's mouth open, he waved dismissively and said, in a calm, reasonable tone, "Besides. The predators are nocturnal. It wasn't even mid-morning. You were perfectly safe."

"But you still LEFT me!"

Major Sheppard stared at his teammate with open frustration, "You were slowing us down. The hard-drive was gonna die. Steve said we weren't gonna make it—"

"And you listened to him!" Rodney accused.

"'Cause he was right!" Squeezing the armrests of the chair he'd snagged, Sheppard took a deep breath, "As it was, we barely got the nutrient bathes ready in time. Carson confirmed that." He matched the scientist's disagreeableness with an accusing tone of his own, "If we'd waited, even a minute, for you to catch up, it would've died. And then you'd be pissed at me for NOT leaving you!"

Unwilling to acknowledge that, McKay changed tactics, "What happened to your vaunted, 'We don't leave our people behind,' motto?"

Sheppard lost it. "You TOLD us to go on WITHOUT you!"

Elizabeth looked up from the data pad Dr. McKay had given to her for examination with a frown, "Gentlemen, please—"

"I offered to have Cadman meet you at the edge of the forest!"

She raised her voice, "There's no need for this!" She fixed the pair, first Sheppard, then McKay, with a stern, no-nonsense stare. "The decision to split up," Elizabeth stated firmly, "was okay-ed by me, based on input from both of you."

Feeling righteously justified, Major Sheppard subsided.

Dr. McKay wasn't so obliging. He spun his chair back to the computer he'd set up on one of the infirmary's lab counters and grumbled, "And the wraith."

Not missing the comment, Elizabeth raised a warning eyebrow, "Yes, Rodney. And the wraith. You said yourself, you believed his advice was reliable."

"Yeah, well, that's 'cause it was consistent with the energy readings…" McKay's fingers began tapping rapidly across the keyboard, signaling his intent to abandon the futile argument. "So," he said absently, "what did you want to ask me?"

Elizabeth glanced wryly as the data pad she was holding. "Well, for starters. You could explain why you handed me this?"

"What?" Confused, Rodney looked back, over his shoulder, at her. She lifted the black pad pointedly. "Oh," he grunted, "that." He returned to the monitor, dismissively waving it off, "You said you wanted to know how I'd get the data out."

"Yes, I did," She perused the Ancient writing scrolling down the pad's touch-sensitive screen, "And I still do. Nothing I've seen on here answers that question."

Sitting a little straighter, Major Sheppard craned his neck and joined her in perusing it. He found the content similarly unenlightening. "Yeah, Rodney. How's your Ancient-English translation program supposed to help extract wraith data?"

"My Ancient-Engli— Why are you asking about THAT?"

"'Cause I wanna know what it's got to do with this."

"It doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"Then why'd you hand it to her?!"

"I didn't!" Genuinely perplexed, McKay spun his chair about to face Major Sheppard and Elizabeth. They stared at him. Two pairs of brown and blue eyes flitted to the data-pad meaningfully. Abruptly realizing the problem, Rodney heaved a long-suffering sigh, "Look. Just ignore the software. It's the hardware you want."

Exchanging a look, Sheppard and Elizabeth examined the data pad more closely. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, like a normal data pad. Black, rectangular… 'Bout the size of a thin, hard-back novel, with an inset screen and the Atlantis expedition's insignia printed on the casing. Its sides were lined with various input and output ports, where accessories could be attached. And one of those ports…

"Oh, I get it." Major Sheppard poked at the swaying accessory dangling below Elizabeth's hand. Mystery solved. "It's that thing."

"That 'thing?'" Raising a bemused eyebrow, Elizabeth hooked her finger around the 'thing's' cord and pulled the 'thing' up where she could see it. A thin, crystal stylus rolled onto her palm. It was about the length of her index finger.

It glittered under the overhead lights as Sheppard poked it again. "Yeah, that thing." With a grin, he elaborated, "Rodney stuck it in the wall while we were on the Genii's hive ship yesterday. Used it to get the doors open."

Elizabeth frowned at the stylus. She was pretty sure she'd seen it before. Or another like it… "So, it's a door opener? How does that help?"

Dr. McKay rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It's a multi-purpose, crystal interface. Capable of accessing all sorts of systems."

"Including wraith?" she pressed.

"I was able to get the door open, wasn't I?"

"If I recall correctly," Sheppard interrupted, "it took you a few tries."

"So?" McKay huffed disbelievingly, "It was my first time hotwiring a wraith door! I'm sorry if it wasn't fast enough for y—"

"Hmmm…" Not listening, Major Sheppard took the stylus from Elizabeth and unhooked it from the data pad. "So your plan," he stated skeptically, holding it up, "is to stick this into the hard-drive's shell. Like you stuck it into the wall…"

"Noooo," Dr. McKay gave the Major one of his patented, 'you're an idiot,' looks. "I'm not gonna stick it IN the shell. That would damage it again."

"Then what is your plan, Rodney?" Elizabeth smiled expectantly at him.

Rodney straightened proudly, "I'm going to stick it ON the shell."

"Meaning, you're gonna poke it."

Deflating, McKay glared at Sheppard irritably, "Yes, Major. I'm going to POKE the hard-drive." He refocused on Elizabeth, adding, "Hopefully while I'm 'poking' it, it'll be able to talk to me."

"Through this, I take it?" she hefted the data pad.

"Eventually," McKay shrugged, "I'm working on a program designed to mesh the interface's more obscure capabilities with our Earth equipment. But for now—"

"He'll use a life-signs detector—"

"—it'll require the use of an ancient life-signs detector."

Sheppard met McKay's deadpan stare with an innocent grin.

"Makes sense," Elizabeth said, breaking the sudden silence, "the hard-drive IS alive, after all. A life-signs detector might—"

"No, no," deciding to ignore the Major, Rodney waved her off, "That's got nothing to do with it. The LSDs are capable of way more than just detecting life signs." He pointed at the stylus, "They read energy of ALL sorts. And they're meant to be used with those interfaces. If anything in Atlantis can talk 'wraith tech,' they can."

"I see…" impressed, Elizabeth reclaimed the crystal stylus. Her fingers toyed thoughtfully with it, "So, you plan to use an LSD and this interface rod to access the hard-drive… How long will it take to extract the data?"

Biting his lower lip, Dr. McKay swiveled his chair and clapped a palm to his closed fist, idly glancing at the ceiling, "I'd say… A few days? Maybe more, maybe less. Depends on how difficult interpreting the drive's signals is." He gave a short, humorless laugh, "And, of course, I can't start until it's fully healed."

Sheppard looked at him sharply, "Says who?"

A scoffing smirk, "Your good friend, Steve. Duuuh. Who else?"

Elizabeth set the data pad by Rodney's computer and fixed her chief scientist with a questioning stare, "Did the prisoner explain why the wait is needed?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," McKay rolled his eyes, his skeptical tone betraying an obvious lack of faith in the explanation, "He said, and I quote, 'the extra stress of ignorant probing will upset the delicate balance we've achieved.'"

She raised an eyebrow, "Meaning?"

"He thinks we'll kill it," Sheppard quipped.

"Yup," McKay snorted, "Apparently it's too weak to support both healing and data processing at the same time. Any undue stress could make it crash."

"And by crash, you mean flat-line."

He nodded, "Right again."

Commandeering an absent tech's chair, Elizabeth hooked her hair behind her ears, pursed her lips, and sat down, rolling the stylus between her fingers. "What about educated probing?" she asked McKay.

His response was irritable and dismissive, "Already tried that. Steve refused."

She frowned, "Refused?"

A short nod, "Blatantly and emphatically."

"So that's what the hissing was about…" Sheppard muttered.

"He says," McKay continued, "that he doesn't want to be blamed for its demise."

Elizabeth considered the wraith's situation thoughtfully, "At least, not before he gets the tour…" She shot Major Sheppard a meaningful look, "He's probably worried we'd use its death as an excuse to renege on our deal."

"Yeah, that's my fault," Sheppard winced theatrically with the admission, "I sorta tacked salvaging the drive onto Steve's end of the agreement."

"Did you?" Elizabeth hadn't heard that yet.

"It was a split-second decision."

"I see…" That made a difference in how they approached this… Tapping the crystal interface against her palm, she refocused on Rodney. "Do we know how long it will take the hard-drive to fully heal?"

Rodney crossed his arms, brightening, "Yes! We do. Five days, give or take a few 'guard shifts.'" He shot the Major an amused glance, saying, "Wraith's got a funny way of measuring time, doesn't he? Not today, not tomorrow. Guard shifts."

"Sorta comes with the whole, 'can't see the sun,' no concrete way of measuring time, thing," quipped Sheppard, "Guard shifts are all he's got."

"His Circadian Rhythm's probably in shambles by now," Elizabeth mused.

McKay sniffed, "Do wraith even HAVE Circadian Rhythms?"

"Who knows?" Sheppard shrugged, "Carson hasn't studied that yet."

Quiet descended on the hijacked lab counter as Atlantis's command trio briefly pondered the matter. After a moment, Elizabeth raised a dismissive eyebrow, "So, we have five days…" Leaning towards McKay, she laid the crystal interface across the screen of the data pad, "Plus a few more, give or take, to extract the data."

Beside her, Major Sheppard scooted his chair back a bit and nodded in satisfaction, "Puts us around a week, week and a half."

"Right in Carson's timeframe…"

"Perfect, isn't it?" Dr. McKay sounded a bit too cheerful, given his earlier complaint about the wait, "Gives me more time to tackle that ultraviolet security." He lifted his hand to his radio's earpiece and wiggled his fingers in gleeful anticipation, adding, "Can I tell Zelenka he can stop making preparations for the tour?"

Sheppard glared at him in outraged disbelief, "No!"

Rodney instantly adopted an expression of startled innocence, "Why not?"

"'Cause I said so!"

"But it's the perfect excuse!"

"An excuse for what?" Elizabeth interrupted.

McKay turned, huffing as if it were obvious, "To delay the tour." He opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed heavily, as if explaining were an odious chore, "Look. The arrangement's simple. Tour for data. Data for tour. But weeee," he gestured to himself, then to Sheppard and Weir. Then he threw his arms out, encompassing the rest of Atlantis, "Weeeeee don't really want to give him the tour. We want him to stay in the cell. It's safer for us if he's in the cell—"

"Safer for you, you mean," Sheppard snapped.

"—And this wait's a legitimate reason to keep him in there longer."

"I doubt we could convince Steve of that."

McKay rolled his eyes at Sheppard in annoyance, "We don't HAVE to convince him. He's a prisoner!" Shaking his head, he turned to Elizabeth, "Look, all I'm saying, is we should save the tour for AFTER we have the data."

But Elizabeth was shaking her head as well, "I'm afraid there's a small flaw in your logic, Rodney."

"What?" McKay squeaked, "Where's the flaw?"

She smiled softy, "We already HAVE the data."

"No, we don't," he scoffed.

"Yes," she nodded earnestly, "we do."

"But I haven—"

"The hard-drive is alive, stable, and in our possession," Sheppard stated, "That means we have it."

"But he hasn't helped me ACCESS it yet."

"Which doesn't mean he won't!" Faced once more with his teammate's predictable lack of social foresight, the Major sighed and explained, "Rodney, Steve wants information on that glove. He wants to study it. To do that, he needs to make concessions. Show us that he can be trusted to follow through—"

"Making him wait's a perfect opportunity for that—"

"But WE need to make concessions also. We want his help understanding the glove's wraith aspects. We want his help understanding wraith in general. AND," Sheppard emphasized, "we want whatever military advantage he might give us."

Dr. McKay grimaced skeptically, "How does that translate to US fulfilling our part of the bargain before Steve's finished fulfilling his?"

"'Cause it's not just a 'one-time' deal! Ya gotta look at the big picture!"

Seeing Major Sheppard's patience was thinning, Elizabeth jumped in, "We need to show him that we can be trusted, Rodney. Nitpicking the finer points of this arrangement, taking advantage of him early on, will only serve to undermine our relationship in the future. We want him to deal honestly with us."

McKay snorted, "You actually think that's possible?"

"Yes, I do. The information he's given so far hasn't been proven bad, yet."

A dismissive 'hmmph.' "Yet!"

"And some has proven to be good."

"Oh, really?" Dr. McKay, if possible, looked more skeptical than before, "And which parts would that be? 'The wraith are coming?'" He wiggled his fingers, "Oooo, how terrible, whatever will we— Oh, wait. We already knew that."

Not rising to the bait, Elizabeth gave him a faint smile, "I was referring to his comments about the organic tools. And his cooperation with Carson."

McKay grunted, but didn't say anything.

"Our prisoner's speculation on the tools' capabilities was correct," she continued, "meaning he shared serious, and thoughtful, ideas with us."

"Ideas he couldn't know we were capable of verifying," Sheppard added.

"And from what I've heard from Carson, Steve's behavior towards Atlantis personnel while outside his cell has been impeccable."

"He was pretty polite off-world, too," Sheppard quipped.

At the comment, Dr. McKay pursed his lips petulantly and looked away.

Leaning forward, Elizabeth caught his sulky gaze, willing the scientist to understand. "We're making progress with him. And it's time to take the relationship to the next level. Going off-world was a major concession on his part. It showed he's committed to cooperating. Now WE need to make a concession of our own. And we need to do it soon, to show we're equally committed. The tour of the flooded lab is that concession." Seeing McKay's resolve waver, Elizabeth softened her tone, "We've reached a critical point in negotiations. He's analyzing every little thing we do."

Glancing away, McKay grudgingly muttered, "And delaying the tour…?"

"Would be construed as indecision. Or as a sign that we intend to string him along repeatedly in the future." Her eyebrows lifted gravely, "Both interpretations could undermine his trust. Which is something I would like to avoid."

Silence engulfed the trio as Atlantis's chief scientist fidgeted, reluctantly absorbing Elizabeth's words. He met her eyes for a moment… Then…

"Hmmph!"

Abruptly swiveling his chair away, Dr. McKay swung towards Major Sheppard, bristling with defeated irritation. "This is all YOUR fault, you know!—"

"MY fault?!"

"Yes, you! If you hadn't stopped me earlier, we'd have a legitimate excuse to postpone the tour. Something Steve couldn't possibly complain abou—"

"No," Sheppard began, "we wouldn—"

"Yes, we would!" McKay squeaked, "He'd have called me a hypocrite, and we could've exploited the insult clause!"

"That's not what would've happened!"

"Yes, it is!"

Leaning forward, Sheppard firmly snapped, "No, Rodney, it's NOT."

Taken aback by the determined vehemence on the Major's face, Dr. McKay crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "Okay. Fine!" He glared at Sheppard, saying in a smug, 'I dare you,' tone, "In that case, what WOULD have happened?"

"I'll tell you what would've happened!" Sheppard jabbed his finger at the floor, vaguely in the direction of the holding cells. "Yes, Steve would've called you a hypocrite." McKay's mouth opened triumphantly, but he cut him off with a harsh, "Then you'd have made an ASS out of yourself by pressing the issue. And I," (emphasis on, 'I'), "would've been forced to rule against you. Which," he quickly added, "would've undermined your authority in front of everyone. INCLUDING the wraith!"

By the time Sheppard finished, Dr. McKay was staring at him with a mixture of outrage and astonished disbelief, "Forced to rule agai— You'd have ruled against me?!"

Unabashed, Sheppard nodded, "Yeah."

"WHY?!"

"For the same reason we're not gonna postpone the tour."

"That doesn't— They're completely different situations!"

"No, they're not," sighing, Sheppard mussed his hair and glanced at Elizabeth, who was watching the exchange with interest. She hadn't heard about Rodney's wraith-baiting yet. "You spent twenty minutes trying to trick Steve into insulting you—"

"Twenty minutes?" Elizabeth raised an impressed eyebrow.

He nodded, "Yeah. Twenty. I'm not exaggerating."

"Oh, for the love of—"

Sheppard cut McKay's grumbling off, "By doing that, you created a blatantly unfair situation. One which he took advantage of t—"

"Took advantage of?!" blurted McKay, "How'd he take advantage of it?"

"He boxed me into a corner!" Sheppard snapped, amazed at his teammate's obliviousness. "If I'd let him call you a hypocrite, I'd have been forced to chose between supporting you and supporting the spirit of our agreement."

"The 'spirit of our—" Dr. McKay scoffed rudely, "What on Earth is THAT?!"

"Fairness and reciprocity," Elizabeth murmured.

The Major pointed to her deferentially, "What she said."

"How is supporting ME not fair?"

At Rodney's continuing bafflement, Sheppard suppressed a 'shoot me now' sigh. "If I'd supported you by canceling or postponing the tour, I would've been telling him that the people of Atlantis stick together, regardless of the situation—"

"Again. How is that bad?"

"It implies that we don't care whether we're right or wrong. That we'll abandon arrangements on a single person's word, whether Steve has a legitimate grievance or not. That every deal he makes is in constant danger of being revoked."

Elizabeth was nodding, "Which, in turn, tells him that he has no chance of ever negotiating with us on equal footing—"

"Hello, he's a prisoner…? Prisoner's don't negotiate on equal footing!"

"You're not seeing the big picture, Rodney. If you and Carson figure out how that glove works? How to duplicate it? That could be the first step towards Atlantis acquiring wraith allies—"

"Do we WANT wraith allies?"

"If it means wraith stop feeding on humans," muttered Sheppard, "Yes."

"—And allies negotiate on equal footing," Elizabeth continued. "Our reluctant guest downstairs could, quite possibly, become a willing one in the future."

Dr. McKay was starting to look thoughtful once more, "Okay, say for one millisecond that I accept that preposterous explanation. How is supporting the amorphous 'spirit of our agreement' as bad as supporting me? I fail to see this metaphorical 'box' he cornered Sheppard into."

"Right!" Major Sheppard clapped his hands together, "Here's the rub. Supporting the agreement says, 'We're playing fair. You have protection. We recognize that some things are beyond your control.' Like McKay's wraith-baiting." He shrugged and spread his hands again, grinning ironically, "Unfortunately, it also tells him we're divided on issues. We don't all think alike. That it's possible to gain allies. Or enemies—"

"And, more importantly," Elizabeth interjected, "that it's possible to play us off one another. That manipulation is a valid tool for achieving goals."

"United we stand…" Sheppard mused dramatically.

"Divided we fall," McKay absently finished, "You're right. That's not much better than the other option…"

"But it IS better than telling him his cause is hopeless. Which is why, if forced, it's the one I was gonna choose."

As their chief scientist frowned pensively, Elizabeth glanced at Sheppard worriedly, "That we're even having this conversation tells me manipulation by our prisoner is a legitimate concern."

"He's a sly, life-sucking bug, all right…"

"You did the right thing by interrupting, John. By poising the dilemma in the first place, he narrowed our reaction down to two options. This way, he can't be sure which philosophy we'd take."

"Oh, he'll figure it out soon enough. His observations of our actions will, ultimately, point him one way. He's smart. It'll be the right way."

"But it WILL slow his assessment of us. Keep him guessing for a while."

Sheppard did a lazy half-spin in his chair, "Maybe not as long as you think—"

"I don't buy it." Chuckling, Dr. McKay turned back to his computer dismissively, "Nope. Uh-uh. You guys are reading way too far into this."

Elizabeth frowned at him, "What do you mean, Rodney?"

"I don't believe for a second that that wraith is thinking about this the way you are." McKay gave a short laugh, "Think about it. He's an alien insect. How can he possibly understand the complex thought processes you're going through to come up with this stuff? Heck, I don't understand them. And I'm the same species!"

"Carson says his brain is very similar to ours."

"But it's ONLY similar," snorting derisively, Dr. McKay turned back to them, "You know what I think? I think he lost his temper, and got mad at me." His fingers flitted through the air as he spoke, "Nothing more, nothing less." They flew up, staying Sheppard's fledgling protest, "Granted, there might have been some… Mild, curiosity on his part as to what Major Sheppard would DO when he actually insulted me. But I'm sure it bears no resemblance to the profound stratagems and dramatic intrigue you've just described. Whatever you're seeing is the result of pure coincidence."

"Coincidence?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"We're human," McKay grinned, "We EXPECT to see human thought and behavior patterns." Suddenly he looked ridiculously pleased with himself, "To borrow a term from Dr. Heightmeyer, we are 'projecting' our expectations onto him."

"So you're saying, everything his manner and choice of words implies—"

"Is unintentional. Complete and total accident."

"Accident my ASS!" Sheppard snapped. He clearly remembered Steve staring challengingly over McKay's head, "Did you SEE the way he looked at me before I interrupted? He knew EXACTLY what he was doing. And he was doing it on purpose!"

"No, he wasn't," McKay scoffed, "You just THINK he was."

"If you'd seen it, you wouldn't say that!"

"Gentlemen, please!" Getting up from her chair, Elizabeth Weir surveyed her chief scientist and military commander with a dry smile, "I think I know what the real problem is." Leaving them to stew in suspense for a moment, she returned the black rollaway to the lab station she'd snitched it from earlier. When she came back, Rodney was fidgeting, and Major Sheppard was eyeing her suspiciously.

"What REAL problem…?"

McKay glanced at Sheppard nervously, "I was unaware 'fake' problems existed…"

"Perhaps," Elizabeth conceded, "it would more accurate for me to say I know what the 'root' of this problem is."

"Okaaayyy," Sheppard frowned warily, "So what's the 'root' problem?"

"The root of the problem is this," She turned to Dr. McKay.

"What're you looking at ME for?" he squeaked.

"Despite your admirable desire to further the cause of science," Elizabeth began kindly, "This conversation has made it clear that you, Rodney, are not as comfortable with the idea of collaborating with our prisoner as you claimed at the last briefing."

"What!? How do you figure tha—"

"You're looking for excuses to keep him away from you—"

"He's a man-eating bug! Of course, I want him kept away fro—"

"—And you're looking for reasons not to admit his intelligence. Thereby justifying your position that we don't have to honor deals with him."

McKay blinked at her, "I never said we shouldn't honor deals—" She raised her eyebrows, and he huffed, "Okay, maybe I did suggest it indirectly. But I—"

"It's all right, Rodney," She smiled softly, showing she wasn't angry, "The way I see it, the issue here is that you don't want to take Steve on the tour."

"Yes!" he said excitedly, "I mean, no. I don't. But—"

"I thought we already agreed postponing the tour wasn't an option," Sheppard observed. He was still watching Elizabeth warily.

"We did, didn't we?" she replied.

His frown deepened.

"But, it's a contradiction easily remedied," she continued, after a pause.

"Wait. It is?" McKay was utterly baffled.

"Yes, it is," Elizabeth looked down at him, smiling sweetly, "Rodney, you'll be happy to know, you don't have to take Steve on the tour tomorrow."

A wide, disbelieving grin spread across Dr. McKay's face. Then…

"Dr. Zelenka will be leading it."

Disbelief turned to horror, "You're going to put Radek—"

"Zelenka's spent more time down there than you have lately, and I want you to stay here, monitoring the hard-drive with Carson."

"But, Zelenka!" he protested.

"Would you prefer I put Dr. Sheckle in charge?"

McKay cringed, "No, but—"

"Then it's settled." Patting the back of Major Sheppard's chair, Elizabeth moved to go, "And now, I think I'll be retiring to my quarters." And she left, calling, "Don't stay up too late, boys. We've got another interesting day tomorrow."

Said 'boys' watched her leave, staring after her with disbelief and consternation.

Silence reigned in the infirmary in the wake of the abrupt departure.

Sheppard recovered first. "So…" he glanced at McKay and musingly pursed his lips, "Do ya think she planned that from the start?"

Groaning, Dr. McKay swung back to his computer and threw his hands up, "Look, just— Don't even go there."

Thank you for reading! Please review! Again, things I'm working on specifically are: 1. Maintaining a Season 1 feel in the flashback chapters. 2. Keeping the regulars in character.

As we're getting further into the plot, I'll now add a three to this list.

3. Making the new and different, (and/or bizarre), things that happen seem realistic and believable.