"You want to what?"

Teyla had taken a few hours to come up with convincing arguments just for this purpose. At least they were doing this in her quarters; Rodney wasn't likely to notice and if Ronon passed and heard them arguing at top volume he would assume what he had been assuming the whole time. Never mind that it was no longer true, and...

But she wasn't going to think about that. Not now.

"I want to consult our foremost expert on Wraith tactics and behavior," she rephrased, and made it pointed, although without glaring. "Michael did not do this. He did not bring this Wraith ship here, he has nothing to do with whatever it is they are searching for. And I want to ask him what he believes is happening."

Sheppard stared at her for a moment, furious, more at the situation she thought than at her. But he also didn't understand, and she knew it must be that because there was nothing else it could be. He didn't understand why her first impulse was to go to someone who was still the enemy in his mind, why Michael could offer her something that o one else on the Atlantis team could.

That he couldn't, to be fair. And now she was dwelling on things that did not have any bearing on the current situation, and she focused back on Sheppard's face again. He didn't look any happier than he had a moment ago.

"Even assuming he'd be willing to help you figure out how to keep us from getting eaten by a Wraith ship, how the hell are we going to get out there? In case you'd forgotten, there are a few dozen Darts flying overhead trying to find god knows what, and..."

"That is why I need you to fly a cloaked Jumper out to the crash site. The cloak from the city and the cloak from the Jumper should conceal us from the Wraith, and once we are there we do not even need to land. I would be able to contact him from a position overhead..."

"You can do that?"

Teyla put more confidence into her voice than she felt. "I can. Michael and I have been working to improve my.. my ability..."

Sheppard didn't look too happy about that. Not that she could blame him, not when this was the first he was hearing about it, but there was a kind of anger in the way he stared at her incredulously that she didn't understand. Couldn't put a reason to it.

Her ability. Such a nice and general term for what she could do, that she couldn't even explain. It didn't qualify as what McKay referred to as telepathy, not when it was species-specific to Wraith. And she wasn't sure it was a Gift, not when the only two uses she had found for it were to protect her people (all right, yes, that qualified as a Gift, but it was certainly one she never would have asked for) and to communicate with Michael. And even that was not only a result of her ability but also their patience and willingness to try.

She took a breath and continued when Sheppard didn't say anything. "...and I believe I can reach him even from a position above the ..."

"You let him screw around inside your head?"

Teyla sighed, once again glad that they were having this argument in the privacy of their quarters. "I did not let him 'screw around,'" she used his phrase for it. "Inside my head. I asked him to help me refine my skill, being as he is the only person I would trust to do so and he is also the only person capable of doing so." That last in a raised voice, as Sheppard started to roll his eyes and turn away out of exasperation. If only to remind him that no one on Atlantis thus far had been able to empathize with her, to share her experiences or explain to her how to do what she could do better and more efficiently.

"I don't care what he's capa... no, I do care what he's capable of, and you were doing just fine without him!" Sheppard's emotions were too complex to be picked apart in the middle of an argument but she knew anger was only the simplest of them.

"I was doing all right, yes, but that is no reason to shy away from learning more about my abilities. And it was my increased skill which enabled us to learn about the Wraith experiments, and how hard-pressed they are to defend themselves against the replicators. Skills I have learned from letting Michael help me..." Sheppard was turning away again, only this time to pace, and she wouldn't let up just because he wasn't facing her. "Learn to use my powers to the best of my ability."

"By talking to Michael." No logic behind that but it was clear he was looking for some, that he didn't like it. Teyla lowered the volume, took a breath.

"By talking to Michael, yes." She moved closer to him but, no. Now was not the time to approach too intimately yet. "He is Wraith, he knows what it is like to ... to be able to reach out and touch another's mind, to be able to communicate in this way. He has been doing so from early childhood. His knowledge and experience has been most helpful..."

"And what does he want in exchange for this knowledge and experience?"

It was the first time all over again. The first arguments they'd had over Michael, when he had first found out that she was meeting him. Teyla was suddenly tired, and close to tears, and it seemed very ridiculous.

"Nothing. He did not ask for anything in exchange, it was not presented as an offer to bargain or negotiate, simply as an offer of help, from one friend to another."

"Oh, he's your friend now."

"John."

More pacing. He did one circuit of the space in front of her bed and whirled back to face her. "No. This is a bad idea, it's, it's an impossible idea, and even if we could make it out there and back without being detected by the ship the likelihood that he would know anything useful to us..."

"And we will never know that if we do not ask him."

Sheppard's face twisted. "You just want to ask him if he brought the Wraith ship down on our heads, see what he says to that."

She almost hit him for that. She did interrupt whatever he meant to say next, although the look on her face may have done that as well. "You don't believe that, and you know I don't believe it either. We are having this argument not because you believe this is a bad idea but because you do not want to believe that Michael could help us, that he would want to help us for my sake. You do not want to believe that I have become close to a Wraith, and you call him a security risk and a manipulator because you cannot accept that he was forthright enough to say what you have never managed to..."

And that was too far. They realized it at the same time, faces flushed and Teyla was breathing hard, and she couldn't quite believe she'd said that. Or rather, that she'd allowed herself to get worked up enough to say it.

John clearly couldn't believe she'd said it either, that he'd heard it, that. Something. The argument between them was abandoned for an uncomfortable, awkward silence in which the need to reach out and re-establish the connection was almost palpable, and yet neither of them could work out how to do so without making it pitiful and inadequate. She had to bring to mind how he must be feeling, a task made somehow easier by the experience of sharing minds with Michael, and make herself step forward to touch his arm. He pulled away, but at least she was prepared for that.

"John, I'm sorry..." But it was true. Or at least, she thought it was. Which did not mitigate the unnecessary harshness of her words.

He shook his head. "It's still too big of a risk. I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at her as he turned to go. As he opened the door and walked out with a jerky, half-hesitant step.

She understood. And that still didn't make it any better.

"Are we sure they're gone?"

Everyone held their breath while they waited for the answer. Teyla had her arms crossed, standing on the opposite side of the station from John, fingers tapping against her elbow. Twelve grueling hours had left them all running low on sleep and cranky and she did not want to start another argument in the very public venue.

"No Darts in the air... and the Hive ship is moving out of the system."

The collective sigh of relief could be heard around the room and down as far as the Stargate. Teyla closed her eyes and tried not to cry out of sheer exhaustion.

"All right. I suggest everyone get some sleep for now, we can approach this..."

As shameful as it may have been, Teyla found herself drifting as soon as Carter had said sleep. Although when she dragged her attention back to the room it seemed she had not been the only one. Ronon patted her shoulder and left immediately, followed by McKay, although he headed in the direction of the mess hall despite saying something to the contrary. Teyla smiled a little.

"Nah..."

She turned on her way out, wondering why Sheppard was still there.

"... I'll stick around a little while longer, make sure they, you know. Don't turn around and come back, decide they left something."

He was standing between her and whoever he was talking to, but Teyla still caught a glimpse of long light-brown hair and the edge of a jacket without a flag patch. After their argument earlier she only bit her lip, said nothing, and walked away. Pointing out that John himself had become involved with at least two or three women who could be called security risks was not a wise idea. Especially when her motivations would be too similar to his for her to have any sort of room to stand.

Which did not make it hurt any less, of course. Reasons and rational thinking didn't enter into it. She made it to her room without running into any of her teammates, thanked whatever Ancestors might be listening, and fell into bed. Mercifully she was asleep shortly thereafter.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Sheppard did the rest of the pre-flight in silence, and they cleared both the Jumper bay and the city itself faster than Teyla would have thought possible. Or safe, for that matter. She thought, once again, about their argument and all the possibilities for conversations between them that came from it. Most of those being conversations that would very quickly dissolve into either uncomfortable silences, arguments, or both.

Never mind. There was no reason to bring that up, no reason to bring up the very pretty, very intelligent archivist, and no reason to ask him why he hadn't said anything. Even if that was the most pressing question on her mind right now, nothing to do with Hive ships recently in orbit.

Teyla shook her head, focusing instead on the water and then the ground that rapidly passed beneath them. It almost worked, for a little while.

"You want me to wait here or shall I come back to get you in a couple of days?"

It couldn't have been as hostile as it sounded. He spoke over his shoulder, not quite looking at her as he spoke as though he couldn't make his expression calm enough, but glancing over at her afterwards. He looked more tired than anything. Probably not as hostile as it had sounded to her frazzled nerves.

"In forty eight hours, please," she said, since she was give the choice. Sheppard would likely be more than capable of coming up with some sort of excuse. They were supposed to be exploring the continent, and the nearby area had been marked as forbidden to Jumpers and other flying craft. It wouldn't be too hard.

He nodded. Teyla watched him turn back to the controls for a moment before she finally left the Jumper. There was more to be said between them, she knew that for certain, but the what and the when and the how still escaped her.

"Teyla."

The world shifted. She blinked, and Michael was there, one hand light on her shoulder and a look of frowning concern in his eyes. She took a breath and turned into him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"What happened?"

"There was a Hive ship... everyone is all right, it explored the..." she stopped as she felt the sharp stab of recognition rocketing through her as well, lifting her head. "You saw the Darts." Of course he had. Of course he would have sensed their presence, or... perhaps not of course, but he had demonstrated such prescience before.

"From a distance, yes. I took care not to let them know I was here... did they attack Atlantis? Was anyone hurt?"

"No, no one was hurt, everyone is all right." And there was only a moment of suspecting that Michael had anything to do with it.

Which is understandable, all things considered. Although it did somewhat amuse him how vehemently she stood up for him, given her own thoughts on the matter. He didn't blame her for having a moment of doubt, he's had them himself from time to time. And hearing that made her stare at him again.

"You have?"

"Teyla." Michael's mouth did a peculiar sort of half-smile half-sneer thing. "After what we have been through together?" After what we have put each other through was the subtext of that. "If you didn't have any doubts about me I would start to wonder if perhaps we had done you some harm with all the..."

That didn't make it much better. She frowned, and he sighed as they started walking back to his encampment. "I still am not comfortable with having thought that you might have betrayed us in some way. It does not... feel right."

"Of course it doesn't," Michael shrugged. "Doubt happens in most circumstances, it simply..."

"Must be overcome or taken on faith, yes, I know." Teyla smiled a little. "That does not make it any easier to feel." Or to know that he knew she felt it. Mind-sharing could sometimes be more... "That is not what I meant."

He threw her an apologetic smile, but the dissonance between them lasted until shortly after they arrived at his temporary home. At which point Teyla practically fell into a chair, wondering why it was that all of the men in her life were either self-deluding, overly complicated, or both.

Michael smiled slightly. "And under what category will you put me?"

"A little of both, I think," she retorted, but since he had settled behind her and started to actually massage the tension out of her neck and shoulders there was a good deal more affection to it. She closed her eyes, sighing and trying to make herself relax.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed when he stopped, but it was still light outside. "So." He went and sat down in front of her, somewhat to the side. Close enough that she could reach out and touch him, but he folded her hand gently back with a wry smile. "A ship arrived. They deployed a number of Darts, all of which seemed to be exploring the planet for something. And then... they left?"

"And then they left." She shrugged, still puzzled, going over again what they knew of the Wraith experiments and desperation and what happened. "I ... have no explanation. For any of it."

"I may. This place... whatever else it may once have been, when I first arrived here it had a similar structure to many laboratories on other worlds. Whoever was working here..." he looked around, shrugged. "They left no indication of what species they might have been, let alone what they were working on, but..."

"But if this was once the base of operations for a Wraith science team, especially one that was active at the time the Replicators were last attacking, they might be searching for some sort of artifact or program that could assist them..." Teyla frowned. "Do you think they know there is nothing left?"

The silence that stretched between her question and his answer was not reassuring. Even when his answer was in the affirmative. "I think so. The Darts would have been able to take more detailed scans of the area, they would have seen... or rather, not seen that there was anything to be gained, and reported back as much. I doubt they would return."

"I hope you are right." Teyla shook her head slightly. She didn't want to find out that he was wrong, the hard way. "In either case, Atlantis will be sending out teams shortly to search for any sign of what the Wraith ships were searching..."

He caught her meaning before she had finished the sentence, of course. It launched him to his feet, eyes a little wider perhaps than they should have been, and not sure what to do with himself once he'd gotten there. She rose, too, one hand light on his shoulder, one hand on his chest. She hadn't told them about him, of course she hadn't. Only Carter and Sheppard knew, Sheppard because of what he had seen, Carter because Sheppard would have refused to keep it a secret from his commanding officer.

And Michael could accept that. It did not make the worry any less. Nor the crushing weight of the realization that, however they resolved this, it was most likely going to end with him leaving the planet. And even if he found a temporary home on a world connected to the Stargates, it would be ten times harder for her to make a Gate trip in secret.

"We would have to..."

Except neither of them wanted to face it or admit it, not yet. Michael scrubbed his hand over his eyes, looking tired. Teyla simply wasn't sure what to do.

"I have forty eight hours, at least, before I must rejoin the others." She sighed, moving into him and sliding her arms around his waist as much for his comfort as for hers, or perhaps the other way around. "So we have that much time, at least."

John gave them several more minutes before finally knocking on the door and coming out to the rear of the Jumper. It took Teyla a little longer to blink and come out of it, and he wasn't sure why.

"All right, let's go do this." Not that he was happy about it, especially not with Teyla looking around as though just waking up for the first time. If Michael had brainwashed her somehow he was going to nail that Wraith to the roof of his Jumper and give him a little trip through the planet's atmosphere. "Michael's with me, Teyla... just. Stay here, okay? Probably the best way to keep you from touching anything."

Teyla nodded. "And what about you?"

"I'll be all right. There are things Mikey and I need to talk about." He found himself smiling ironically at the Wraith, who seemed to know exactly what he meant. Not that John intended to hurt him at all, just threaten him a little. Maybe a little less. Teyla seemed fine now, although still pretty unhappy.

Which he could understand, inasmuch as he could understand any of this at all. He was still coming to grips with his own feelings, contradictory as they were, and while he had accepted that he and Teyla were pretty much over before they had ever begun, the fact that she was with a Wraith, even a half-human one (or however the percentages worked out) was still sticking.

Along with the fact that Michael seemed to be understanding every single one of his that's my sister you're sleeping with moments. He didn't even know if Wraiths had sisters. Although if Michael had a sister she would probably be a Queen, and most of the Queens he'd met could and had kicked his ass. And the whole line of thinking was starting to creep him out a little, so he just pushed past it and them and headed outside.

The sound of Michael's boots followed him down the ramp and around the terrain. They'd been pretty safe until they'd gotten some distance from the Gate the last time, although in the trees Sheppard thought he could see some hint of the glowing rock people, as he'd described them to Michael. Good. At least as long as they stayed in the trees, he wouldn't be able to be suckered in.

"First of all," he started, putting himself between Michael and the DHD. Which was a symbolic gesture more than anything as Michael could just walk around him, but still. "What the hell did you do to her in there? She looks like she's been drugged."

Michael, to his credit, accepted John's milder tone and lack of fingerpointing as the gesture towards giving him the benefit of the doubt that it had been. "We were in some depth of ... of telepathic communion." He shrugged, as though the phrase wasn't quite what he had wanted but he would settle for it. John wasn't sure what that meant. "It is harder for her to adjust."

Oh. Actually, that was a more reasonable explanation than Sheppard had expected. "Oh."

"I presume this meeting is so you can threaten me with some creative punishment if I do anything to hurt Teyla?" he even smiled while he said it. Bastard.

"No, actually, since you're going to be leaving in a few minutes I thought I'd forgo the threatening part. Just this once. You're not going to be around for me to worry about any longer and I don't think you're stupid enough to try to come back." Then again, John still wasn't sure why Michael had been on the planet in the first place, or how he had gotten there. If he'd told Teyla she had never told him. He wasn't even sure Teyla knew.

"Then why..."

Mostly, John only pulled his gun to feel the weight of it in his hand, to know it was there. Michael took a step back and looked somewhat ready to either hold up his hands in a peaceful gesture or kick John's ass, he wasn't sure which. He didn't think Michael was sure which, either. But since he'd gone halfway to making the gesture ...

Nah. He kept it pointing at the ground; having it out made him feel a little more secure even if all the gun safety lectures he'd ever gotten were sliding through the back of his mind right now, having small skirmishes with his sense of impeding doom. He was on a planet with Michael, a Wraith who had tried to repeatedly subvert and kill them, and a planetful of alien glowing rock people who had gotten into his people's heads and killed one of them. It wasn't making him feel very safe.

"I don't like you." That much was patently obvious, and Michael opened his mouth to probably point that out. "No, shut up." John took a breath.

"I don't like you. I don't trust you, but, God knows why, Teyla does. She likes you, she trusts you... as far as I can tell she really is in love with you. That's not the part that bothers me. Well, not anymore," he admitted. Why it was easier to admit this to Michael rather than to Teyla he didn't want to look at too closely. "The part that bothers me is that you're a Wraith. Your people look at us as food. But she looks at you like a person, and that... I just don't get."

Michael tilted his head slightly at him, apparently waiting for him to either continue or establish that he was finished. John just didn't have anything to follow that up with, so he didn't say anything. It wasn't even so much that that was true as that the way Michael looked at Teyla bugged the hell out of him. And, yes, the fact that Michael was a Wraith. All right, both sides of that bugged the hell out of him; their two species were supposed to be mutually incompatible. Not that way. Eew.

Somehow he found Todd's words echoing back at him from the ground on that Genii prison planet. Our two species are more alike than you think, John Sheppard. Or he'd said something like that, anyway.

"We agreed not to hold our past offenses against each other. It enabled us to talk."

He waited for Michael to continue with that, and frowned when there didn't seem to be any more coming. "And that's it, all you did was... just talk?"

"Just talk," Michael said. John tacked a mental 'at first' onto that and was grateful when Michael didn't add it on himself. "Now tell me, Colonel Sheppard. Would you still be so upset by our relationship if I had remained Lieutenant Michael Kenmore, and unaware of what I truly was?"

John had to stop and think about that one for a second. Sure, it would be less visually... upsetting... to see Michael as the human he'd been curled up with Teyla in the back seat of a Jumper, but he'd still know that Michael was a Wraith. Was he really that shallow?

A few moments' self-examination revealed that yes, yes he was. And he was pretty well okay with that. "No, I wouldn't. Because at least Lieutenant Kenmore would have been a part of my team, respected my orders and my command, and at least I would have had an idea what ..." What he was like? What he would do? Somewhere between the two and Sheppard wasn't sure which to use. Or even if that was what he meant. "How to relate to him." There, that was better. And probably closer to the original idea anyway.

"Ah."

Well, that was unhelpful. "Look. I don't like you. I don't like you hanging around with Teyla, and I can't say that I'll be sorry when you're gone."

"But...?" Michael invited, glancing pointedly at Sheppard's gun, still out and by his side.

Not that shooting the glowing rock aliens would probably do anything, but having his gun out made him feel better, dammit. "But she does love you. And, god knows how, you make her happier. And with the way the galaxy's been treating us lately, that's not something I'm happy about losing."

Michael's lips twisted into something John guessed was supposed to be a smile, even though it looked a little more like a sneer. Or a snarl. Or an equally unpleasant expression. "Does that mean you're not going to shoot me?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'd love to shoot you. I'd love to tell Ronon about you just so I could watch him hunt you down and kill you. Nothing personal, just the whole killing an entire settlement and trying to feed Teyla to a bug thing." John waved his hand. His gun hand. "But if I shoot you now... well, for one thing, Teyla would probably know. You two are probably mind-linked somehow, and I won't do that to her." His voice had somehow softened by the end of that speech. He hadn't wanted Michael to hear that. "And, like I said. You make her happier. And I don't want to do that to her, either, take away someone who makes her happy. I... like seeing her happy."

"Ah." And again that sort of twisted smile, but this time Michael looked ... more sad. He thought. He wasn't exactly the expert on Wraith emotions. "You should have told her, you know."

John didn't need to ask what Michael was talking about and he didn't want to know if he was wrong. Or bring it up, especially in conversation with Michael. Ever. "Yeah, I know. I'm stupid that way." He waved the gun in the general direction of the Stargate. "Are you going to get out of here or not?"

Michael moved around him, dialing a planet that John didn't turn around in time to see the address to. The Stargate whooshed, and they were both staring at a swirly glowing blue puddle. John thought, and he wasn't sure he was right but it was a surprisingly painful thought, that it was probably a good thing Teyla was still in the Jumper. If he'd been in Michael's shoes he wasn't sure he would be able to let go.

And that was a surprisingly painful thought too, just because it was Michael. He shoved that one back down under a heap of other thoughts never to be addressed again.

"Good luck," he called finally. Michael was right in front of the Gate. He turned, looked at Sheppard, who was too far away to see his expression.

"Thank you."

Teyla found it easier than she had expected to slip back into a routine. One mission followed another, all at too quick of a pace for her to keep up almost with what was happening let alone how she felt about it all.

The search parties had come back with the revelation that there was a ruin of a partially underground base in the forbidden area. There were some devices still remaining, but none of them were in anything that could be considered working order, about which McKay and Zelenka had both complained loudly and at great length. There was sign that someone had been there until recently, but no one could figure out who it had been. Suspicions were high over Genii activity, or Travelers after Sheppard's kidnapping. No one suspected the Wraith on account of the clearly pilfered for use MREs.

She did find herself on the balconies occasionally, the ones looking out to the continent. Planning her next trip out only to remember that Michael was no longer there, and then having to go back inside to avoid forgetting again.

Living inside of her own head was not the problem she had imagined. Perhaps because the moments when she had been in communion with Michael had been far fewer than the ones in which she had been on her own in Atlantis. So to speak.

There was still no one else she could go to when her Wraith heritage made her the only person available to fly a Wraith ship, to detect the incoming Wraith, although these days they were more worried about the incoming Replicators. Although Atlantis had long before grown used to her gift and accepted her, the nightmares that came after some of their battles with the Wraith were the sort that she did not feel comfortable sharing with anyone, and especially not with the loss of Dr. Heightmeyer. No one had arrived to replace her yet. Or at least, no one that Teyla felt comfortable speaking with.

She had tried to talk to the base psychiatrist upon their return from dropping off Michael, at Carter's recommendation. She hadn't gotten so far as even mentioning him before she knew that he would pass judgment on her, and closing the session with an apologetic smile.

Then, when Sheppard appeared in her doorway as she was lacing up her boots, she wondered if he had said something after all.

"Hey."

"Hello."

He didn't say anything for a moment, either. She was on the verge of asking him what he wanted to say or ask when he came and sat down next to her on the bed.

"You holding up all right?"

"I ..." And then she realized what he meant. "I ... am getting by. I did not expect ... I was not sure what to expect."

John nodded, sort of seeming to understand. She wondered sometimes, especially when she caught him out being particularly discreet at the mess hall or on their off hours, if he was more understanding now that Michael was well and truly out of the picture. Or if he had simply taken this long to come to terms with what she had chosen.

"I asked Carter to forward me all communications that come by Atlantis, just in case. If he tries to contact us, we should be able to find out or figure it out... somehow."

It wasn't something she had even thought of, let alone something she had expected from John. She glanced over at him with a tiny, bemused smile. "Thank you."

"No problem."

More awkward silence. Still less worrisome than anything they had endured in the Jumper on the way back from Michael's hideaway. It was a relief to have him simply there and sitting beside her, even if she wasn't quite sure why.

"John..."

"Teyla..."

They both smiled a little, even almost laughed as they started to speak at the same time. Evidently the silence was just as hard on him as it had been on her. He gestured for her to speak first, which she took down as due to his difficulty with speaking according to his feelings.

"If... I handled the situation with Michael badly, I am sorry. When I first encountered him I was not prepared for... I did not expect it to turn out as it did. We have had a difficult time lately accepting all the changes that have come to Atlantis; I did not want to put the city at risk again if he turned away from his currently peaceful mood. And," she added, for the sake of honesty. "I did not want to put him in the path of being hurt by an at-best neutral reception."

And Ronon would have killed him. But they both knew that part.

John smiled a little, for no real reason she could discern, sliding an arm around her shoulders and hugging her lightly. Awkwardly; it was rare enough for him to initiate any contact resembling an embrace, and he always did so awkwardly.

"You didn't handle it badly. Hell, we probably would have shot him on sight or thrown him in the brig at best, and..."

Teyla leaned into him a little, surprised and grateful for the comfort, waiting for him to figure out what the words were that he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry things had to turn out this way."

She sighed, just a little. Closed her eyes. The moment had been there and he had let it slide by as surely as she had let other moments pass without asking him to say what was so clearly on his mind. Perhaps because there was no clear opportunity there, his circumstance being what it was and her not willing to compromise that. And hers being what it was as well. Michael may be gone, but she was not willing to abandon hope just yet.

Which might merit saying. "I will not give up hope of seeing him again," she told John, without opening her eyes or lifting her head. "Nor of being able to bring him to Atlantis under better circumstances."

To her surprise, he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Good," he said, and stayed there as though he would say something else. And then, infuriatingly, he did not.

Teyla gave the doorway a funny look after he had gone, wondering.

Go to the top! For you have reached the bottom.

Previous part