A/N: Hi folks! This was not the chapter I was going to post next. But then I read the last chapter I posted and the one I intended to post next and it felt too abrupt...like something was missing. So I cooked this chapter up to give us some Eva POV and to give us some insight into some of Emma's future actions.

To everyone who's reading, thank you so much for sticking with me! After this chapter, the plot is really about to thicken.

Hope you enjoy!

As soon as she reached the threshold of the linguistics lab, something made her hesitate. Inside, Emma sat hunched over the table upon a tall stool, her forehead cradled in her right hand, a stack of photographs in her left. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic and, though Eva was in plain view and in no way trying to be stealthy, she showed no signs that she had noticed her presence. Eva knocked softly on the side of the doorframe before entering.

"Can I come in?"

Emma started at the sound of her voice and gave the room a frantic visual search until her eyes rested on Eva. After quickly composing herself, she smiled. "Of course." She blinked a few times as though to clear her vision as she swiveled in her chair. "Come on in."

Something was off.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Eva nonetheless took the adjacent seat her mother offered, which allowed her to more closely evaluate her appearance. Her red hair was neatly smoothed into a low, braided bun, which seemed a striking contrast to the usual loose and flowing style she favored. She wore more makeup than was normal for her, too, and had even put in a pair of earrings – two dark green studs that accentuated the color of her eyes. The choice of gem, whether genuine or not, brought a wry smile to her lips; May 12 made the emerald Eva's birthstone.

Any casual observer would have found Emma's whole look polished, elegant even, as though she had dressed to impress someone in particular. But Eva knew her better than that. Above what clothing, jewels, and cosmetics could do for her, her mother valued her natural beauty most. They hardly ever discussed things like that, the two of them. After all, her mother had spent her early formative years working on a horse ranch and Eva had been raised on a military base; there was no reason to dedicate much time to such frivolities. But on sunny weekend mornings, with her hair tousled and just a little bit tangled from the night before, face free of all makeup, and draped in the silk robe her father had given to her as a wedding gift, her mother didn't need to say a word for Eva to comprehend just how radiant she felt, free of pretense and in her own skin.

No, her mother only nitpicked at her own appearance when she was trying to hide something. It was textbook overcompensation, really. And sure enough, as Eva looked more intently into Emma's face, she saw the dark shadows looming beneath the translucent skin of her under eyes and the concealer she had applied there, in vain. Clearly, her recent stint on the Alpha Site had been trying.

"Haven't seen you in a while." Despite Emma's thinly-veiled exhaustion, her smile was genuine. "Few days, at least."

Fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, Eva nodded into her lap. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure how to begin.

"Well, aren't you shy as sapphires today…"

She looked back up into her mother's genial face and realized that twenty years hadn't made – wouldn't make? – much of a change. Sure, her real mother had fine little wrinkles at the edges of her eyes, laugh lines at the corners of her mouth, and a few gray hairs at her hairline, but her voice, her expression, her movements, they were all so familiar. She even smelled the same.

Eva took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say thank you for what you did for me back on the Cruiser," she said. "You hardly know me but you risked your life to save mine, anyway, so…thanks, I guess."

Evidently surprised by this sudden expression of gratitude, Emma stared wordlessly back at her. After a few seconds, the silence started to become uncomfortable; she wished she'd say something.

"I don't think that's true," Emma said quietly. "That I hardly know you, that is."

"You only met me like three weeks ago."

Emma shook her head. "That doesn't mean I don't know you. I, well…Ronon and I," a tinge of pink bloomed on her cheeks, "we theoretically raised you."

"Not so theoretically," Eva scoffed. "I remember it pretty well."

"And I can tell," she laughed. "I think we can all tell that Ronon had a significant part in your upbringing."

In spite of herself, Eva laughed, too. As people continually reminded her, the apple truly hadn't fallen very far from that tree.

"But…" Emma fixed an intense stare on her, "when I look at you, when I look past all the parts of you that take after him… It really is so surreal, so familiar…at times you really remind me –"

Eva hung her head. "Of Allie?"

Emma's eyes widened. "No. I was going to say of me."

"Oh." She fussed with the edge of her shirt once more, a bit embarrassed.

"You can be stubborn…a bit like me," she smirked. "It bothers you when people patronize you, or say you can't do something, and I can tell that you don't find it easy to accept help from others. You might only be sixteen, but you've already got one hell of an independent streak."

Amused by this description, Eva looked back up and raised her eyebrows at Emma. "You know you pretty much just described my dad, right?"

The stool squeaked as Emma leaned back in it. Apparently, no, she hadn't realized that the words she had chosen to describe herself just as accurately applied to the future father of her child. Hiding her surprise behind a mischievous smile, she asked, "Then I guess there was no escaping it for you, was there?"

Eva shook her head and grinned, her long, dark braid swaying back and forth with the movement.

Her mother reached out to take it into her hand. "And you had to have learned this somewhere. Looks a little familiar to me."

Memories of patiently sitting cross-legged on her parents' bed as her mother's fingers combed through her hair, gently tugging and weaving like a bird building its nest, flooded back to her. From the day her hair had grown past her shoulders, her mom had taught her every type of braid she knew, and the Celtic braid that she had chosen to do today was definitely unique.

"I remember when my sister taught me this one." Emma smiled as she ran her thumb over the loops. She let go and the long side plait fell against Eva's chest.

The reference to her aunt made her chest tighten. How would her life have been different had her parents told her she had an older sister? Would the girls still have grown up separately if either of them had known? Would they have been as close as her mother and her aunt were?

With a jolt to the heart, Eva realized that this Emma, in this moment, was the same age as the Allie from her own timeline. Though the woman in front of her was not yet her mother, one could easily mistake her for the sister Eva had never gotten the chance to grow up with. How had she not noticed it before? From her red hair, to her green eyes, to the way she carried herself, she always thought Allie looked exactly like their mother; at times, after she found out the truth, she had even envied her for it.

"How come you never told…" Me. How come you never told me? "…anyone about her?" she ventured.

Needing no clarification, Emma stared at her for a moment until she eventually sighed and dropped her gaze. "Allie's father… he isn't a good man." She spoke slowly, as though the words were painful in her mouth. "He's violent and he's manipulative."

Subconsciously, she pulled the sleeve of her jacket down to her knuckles. Eva knew she had a large, spiderweb-like scar on the inside of that forearm, the result of what she had always been told was an accident on the ranch. Maybe not.

"When we were together there were a lot of things that he wouldn't let me do…a lot of decisions, certain precautions, that he wouldn't let me take." Her chest swelled as she took in a breath to steel herself. "It was only a matter of time before I ended up pregnant." She shook her head. "I never told him about the pregnancy and he never found out. Allie is our family's little secret and I don't tell anyone about her because I don't want her to know the truth."

Eva couldn't remember a time when her mother had ever been this honest, this open with her, and the irony of their current circumstance left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Why not?"

Emma's eyes locked onto hers. "As far as Allie is concerned, the arrangement we came up with makes her happy. But if Allie were to find out the truth and then get curious about her biological father, I'm afraid that she might try to find him. And if he were to find a way to weasel himself into her life or, God forbid, try to get some sort of custody over her…"

Suddenly it all made sense. The way her mother would flinch when men she didn't know would put their hands on her, no matter how innocuous the touch. The ease with which she was startled. The fact that she adamantly refused to ever watch Eva and her father spar together.

"You don't want him to hurt her like he hurt you."

"This way, he never will."

Eva furrowed her brow. "But you told Dad."

"Did I?' Emma looked mildly surprised by this piece of information. "Well, I suppose it's bad form to keep secrets from one's husband. And Ronon seems like the kind of person who could keep a secret," she said with a half-hearted attempt at humor.

Eva shifted her gaze to a point just over Emma's shoulder, looking back only once she felt the warmth of her mother's hand on her knee.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry you grew up with a lie. But when I decided that I couldn't be a mother to Allie, I knew it was my duty to at least ensure her safety and her happiness. And if that means keeping some secrets or making some sacrifices, then that's what I have to do."

The inflamed, pink-red gash across Emma's throat caught Eva's eye. "I think I understand."

She replied by giving her knee a gentle squeeze.

"You know," Eva began, "it didn't make much sense for you to give yourself up for me back on that ship."

"What? How can you say that?"

"I'm no expert in time travel, but I'm pretty sure that without you, there is no me," she explained.

"Well," Emma sighed, "Dr. McKay and I have been talking and, actually, that might not be true anymore."

Eva frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Dr. Rogers to the briefing room. Dr. Emma Rogers to the briefing room."

She hopped out of her seat in reaction to the page. "Shit! I completely forgot." Immediately stacking the photos on the table, shutting her computer, and grabbing a file folder, Emma hurried toward the door.

Eva pursued her into the hallway. "What did you mean that might not be true? What did you find out?"

"That's what we're supposed to be talking about at this meeting I'm late for. Once we're done, I'll let you know what's going on." With her belongings clutched in one hand, she turned and gave Eva a somewhat clumsy but firm hug.

"You promise?" Her voice was muffled by Emma's shoulder, but she heard her anyway.

As they pulled apart, Emma's red and weary eyes met her own. "I promise," she whispered. "We're gonna do everything we can to get you home."

A/N: A bit different, but I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think! Thanks as always. :)