Not Another Chair Story
Story 9 - Oversight
Written 2009-2011.

Dewy golden light streamed between Nena's fingers as she held out her hand. She enjoyed moving the shadow of her digits over her sleeping husband's face, even though she knew the sunrise and the resulting shadows were her own design, programmed to run five to six times a day in virtu-Atlantis. Sunrises were hard to get right, Nena's circuits always reasoned, but she admitted quietly to herself that she loved them so much that she liked to run a private show.

Half-curled beside her, eyes slackly closed and his lips slightly open, Carson Beckett was unknowingly benefitting from a sleep in. Nena trickled the outlines of her fingers down to the left corner of his lips, which was always lifted above the right, giving a permanent mischievous twinge to his smiles. His lack of symmetry, as with every other human, bemused Nena.

The tips of her fingers met skin. She grinned.

Humans. Her thoughts ghosted over and between components. I have been around them for so little time, but it feels like eons. Am I becoming one? Is this a human thought?

Nena could rewind the security systems far back enough to watch her first tentative steps towards this feeling. Back then, it had been so easy to ice up the walls of Atlantis without sparing a thought for the comfort or safety of those within the city. The telling off Carson had given her for that! Barely months later, she had told Bates and Zelenka that it was not in her nature to sit idly by while others suffered.

It didn't take long, did it, my love? And, as I recall, it did not take you long to accept the chair's interface. We are not who we were.

Carson drew in a heavy breath and released it as a half-snore. Nibbling away the giggle poised on her lips, Nena flicked his hair gently – she liked it this way: ungelled and scruffy. Unable to resist any longer, Nena kissed her husband. A smile evolved beneath her lips. Then his blue eyes slowly opened.

"Hullo, love," he said.

"Hi Carsie-buns," she teased in response.

"Is the lass sleeping in, then?"

"Yep! Meredith is realising how gooood sleep can be."

Dr. Carson Beckett's smile tipped even further into the left side of his face. He idly ran his hand from her shoulder to her waist, tugging her closer to him. His next kiss was still drowsy, but his touch was certainly awake. Nena blinked innocently at him.

"I should get ta work," Carson murmured.

"You should."

"I'm meeting Ronon in a few minutes."

"You are."

"Damn it."

"Tonight?" Nena baited.

"Is that a promise, my darlin'?"

"Hmm what is that word you use..." Nena kissed his cheek. "Aye."

Gazing torturously at her, the king of Atlantis and very-much-in-demand CMO vanished in a single sweep of dazzling pixels. Nena lay flat on her back and giggled loudly. A few minutes later, armed with a still dozing child over her hip, Nena glanced quickly about and nodded to herself. Virtu-Atlantis fell away around her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doctor Elizabeth Weir should have been celebrating the quiet with a China Jasmine infusion in her mug. A quarter of an hour ago, the four most troublesome bipedal beings under her command had departed be on another planet entirely. This meant that they would be spending a day out of sight, out of mind and out from underneath the feet of Atlantis' new guest.

In forty or so minutes, she would be entertaining Richard Woolsey, thorn of many sides. The tea would have helped.

"I'm going to request a transfer, m'am," Major Lorne announced from the door.

Elizabeth balanced one finger on the rim of her empty mug. She raised her eyes to take in the tense, straight-spined marine who had planted his feet inside her office with all the ease and permanence of a strangler fig.

"You've made your intentions clear," she noted.

A very strange look swiped across Evan's face. "I don't think I did."

Elizabeth rested her forehead against a hand, watching him carefully. Members of the military rarely felt comfortable enough sitting with her in the mess hall, let alone coming to her with such half-baked statements. Noting the grey-purple shadows under his eyes, and the twitching biceps, Elizabeth decided that it was more likely a relationship problem.

"I suggest you sleep on it," she said, then caught the slightly gaping expression on his face. She quickly added, "On the idea, Major! What did you think I meant?"

Lorne's eyebrows dug down hard into his forehead. "Uh, m'am...this isn't exactly...something I wish to discuss with the chain of command."

Ah. So it was a frat reg issue. Elizabeth had heard tales of legend about that at the SGC. From what she knew of Lorne's file, he had been stationed there for long enough to hear those exact same rumours.

"I don't have time for this," she said frankly.

"I'm sorry."

"Am I the one you should be saying that to?"

A hopeful smile lit up Evan's face. He tossed a brisk, informal gesture near his brow and power-walked out into the control room. The headset lying next to Elizabeth's mug crackled with authority. She lifted it and eyed the daring member of her staff who had not bothered to leave his station to contact her.

"Doctor Weir, we've been contacted by the Daedalus. They are already in the system and will be docking within fifteen minutes."

Elizabeth clenched her teeth. "Thank you. Weir out." Her next words addressed the wall behind her. "Nena, our meeting will be a little earlier than planned."

So much for tea!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meredith and Nena were presently at one of the highest points of Atlantis, both sitting with their legs stretched in front of them and fingers reaching for their toes.

"It's stretching," Nena spoke calmly. "Human muscles malfunction if they are too stiff and sore to do anything."

"Yup," was Meredith's contribution. She did indeed sound quite pensive.

Blue eyes, a slightly brighter shade than Carson's, flicked up and the girl's lips tweaked into a smile. Nena knew her daughter was already more intelligent than any other human her age, and it was wonderful – Carson was not so optimistic. He fussed. It was adorable, watching the fine lines draw themselves over his forehead while he tried to read a book about ducks and dogs and e-i-oing to Meredith who was far more interested in one of Rodney's lab reports.

But Nena knew her daughter still enjoyed listening to Carson burr on tiredly until he declared bedtime for everyone.

"Wools," said Meredith, frowning in a good imitation of her father.

Nena sighed. "Yes, yes. I should have told your father about it but he worries so much!"

"Woolsey."

This time, a ping echoed across the non-space between them in the ethernet. Nena's eyes widened and she gasped. Woolsey! Already here? Scooping up Meredith, she whisked through the nearest wall before Elizabeth's voice even coalesced from sound waves into circuitry.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming nervously, and adorned in the red-grey civilian outfit expected of Lantean personnel, Nena settled into the chair and hastily stood back up when her form threatened to slip through the seat. She busily arranged Meredith into her arms and paced all along the glass of the room. Elizabeth steepled her fingers, choosing not to dig into her arsenal of comforting phrases. It was one thing to receive an official looking bit of paper announcing the IOA's latest interference – it was quite a another to receive a personal visit.

The lights dimmed. Elizabeth eyed them, bringing sheer will power to bear in spite of her lacking the ATA gene. At Nena's agitation, the globes lost their luminance completely, though the room glittered in refracted light sent from glaring ocean waves onto various reflective surfaces. Closing her eyes and tilting her head side-to-side with her index fingers, Elizabeth attempted to recall meditative techniques. She found them somewhat lacking.

"Sit down, please," she spoke up, grudgingly dropping her eyelids open. "It's hard enough composing myself without your anxiety, Nena. Are you sure you do not want Carson present for this?"

Wordlessly, Nena glided into the seat and pressed her lips together. She shifted uncomfortably in her jacket, then got to her feet again.

"Da," Meredith answered for her mother. "Bzzz."

"Yes, he's very busy, your da," Nena agreed absently.

Elizabeth thought this was a poor excuse, but she hardly had the time to bring it up, especially when her hated radio vibrated under her fingers. Deaf to whoever was on the other end, she settled the mouthpiece against her chin and authorised the transportation. Blinking against the shaft of light so neat and uniform compared to the method the Becketts used, Elizabeth set her face in neutral stone and nodded once, twice, to make sure her visitor had seen the acknowledgement.

Richard Woolsey's posture was so flat it was entirely possible he had ironed himself into his own suit. Stroking his narrow blue tie as though worried it was adding dimension to his shape, the American representative for the IOA turned the action into extending his hand, covering the distance from the door to the desk in four equal strides. The legs of the chair slid back beneath Elizabeth as she rose to accept the handshake. He jerked her hand up and down twice.

Rubbing her palms together to expunge the chill of his touch, Elizabeth offered diplomatically, "I hope the journey was not too long for you, Mr. Woolsey."

"Oh, no, it was actually somewhat pleasant. Some peace and quiet is conducive to paperwork, as I'm sure you'll know. Excuse me," he directed towards Nena. "Your superior and I have a meeting."

Nena glowered at him. Her emerald eyes narrowed.

"This is Nena Beckett and her daughter, Meredith," Elizabeth told him.

Woolsey's hand, still unsheathed from his cordial greeting, left waist-height but inched back towards his side instead of across to the woman. He seemed at a loss of what to do. He said at last, "So this is the hologram, is it? Not quite what I...well. I'm sure you know who I am."

Elizabeth anchored her elbows into the surface of her desk, but let her forearms relax, directing her hands further from her face. She raised her eyebrows at her guest. "What were you expecting, Mr. Woolsey?"

"No, no this will be...fine," Woolsey soothed, though Elizabeth wasn't sure who he was trying to placate. Himself, most likely. "Have a seat, Mrs. Beckett."

Nena eyed the seat closest to her only briefly before risking it. Neither she nor Meredith fell through to the floor. She sighed. "Oh, thank you. It's totally not necessary for me, but Meredith can suddenly become quite solid and then it becomes a problem."

Woolsey approached them and bent over, peering into Meredith's eyes. The girl's face withdrew into her mother's side. Woolsey straightened again. "She is a hybrid, I'm told?"

"She's not part-robot," Elizabeth said irritably, and knew she should probably regret her words, but Woolsey galled her.

"She can have a body, you know," Nena put forward cautiously. "And she can get rid of it if she wants to."

The deep lines on Woolsey's forehead dissipated somewhat and he nodded in relief. "Much like the Ancients, then?"

"Yes, like with the Stargates – and even those Wraith darts," Nena explained. "The matter is stored then reproduced when needed. Same thing happens to Carson."

"And all three of you can take control of the systems at the drop of a hat?" Woolsey clarified.

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath and tipped her head at Nena, who seemed unaware of the danger in that question. Nena beamed. "Yes. I think it is the greatest gift I could have given Carson and Meredith."

The IOA representative coiled into his own chair, depositing the briefcase next to his right ankle and shaking his head. "You gave a medical doctor and a child the ability to sink the city."

"Only a man like you, Mr. Woolsey, could think of such a thing!" Nena exclaimed, rising to display her ability to make her hologram form taller. "Do you know that in the very first week, one of my systems went critical and Carson risked his life for the city? He didn't even love me then!"

"I am well aware of that incident. It was in Dr. Beckett's report – a report which manages to omit certain details such as..."

"Such as how we copulate?" Nena snapped.

"Well, no... I mean to say... how the technology was used to create a hybrid child."

Elizabeth slapped one hand onto her desk, letting the hollow sound scatter the argument. "Mr. Woolsey, I don't like where this is going. Do you mean to say that the IOA has an interest in creating hybrid children? Where will it end? When we have half-Wraiths loose in the city?"

Richard Woolsey merely stared at her through his glasses. It was impossible to judge if he was offended or attempting to hide something. Luckily, as happens whenever an awkward silence needs to be breached on Atlantis, a technician called: "Colonel Sheppard's team are half an hour overdue for their call in."

Elizabeth very slowly raised her palm to the side of her forehead and smoothed back her hair. She stood. "Excuse me, Mr. Woolsey."

"Understandable," he said. "Would my presence be unwelcome in the control room?"

Elizabeth smiled politely. "No. I extend the same invitation to Nena."

"I see," Woolsey murmured and followed them.

Elizabeth hoped that somehow John or his team had forgotten to pick up the radio and phone home, but that was extremely unlikely. There were any number of reasons for the mishap, and it was doubtful John had decided to provide a much needed interruption to Woolsey's scrutiny. Either way, Elizabeth made a note to carry a mug of champagne to her military leader that night.

Chuck warily held up a hand in greeting, then shoved it into a pocket when he noticed Woolsey's subtle frown.

"Dial the gate," Elizabeth instructed.

Tapping the panels on the DHD with one hand, the Canadian technician straightened the laptop beside him with the other. The screen was dark for a few moments, which gave him ample time to make sure his hair was starchy and perfect, then flicked over to general systems and schematics and all sorts of boring things. Solitaire was minimised in the task bar. Chuck agonised over whether or not to right click and close it.

Luckily, no one was interested in him. Light swivelled around the 'gate and it whirred into action, locking down six chevrons before engaging at the seventh. Backlit by the sun, it was not at its most brilliant display of light, but the pool of blue wobbled in its usual mesmerising way.

"Wow, that's fast," Woolsey noted, impressed.

"Actually, that's the average speed," Nena responded briskly. "I could make it spin faster but it would ruin the effect, don't you think, Mr. Woolsey?"

"Tension is a plot device, Mrs. Beckett. It has no place in a command area."

"Neither does a nosy little man who wants me to never see my husband again!"

"What?" he exclaimed, eyes wide behind his glasses. "I assure you – "

Elizabeth crossed her arms, exhaled and looked down at the curve of her elbows. It would be too easy to lose herself tracing the unimportant line her joined arms made. She lifted her gaze. "Patch me through. Colonel Sheppard, this is Doctor Weir. Your team failed to make its last call in. Do you require assistance?"

Dead silence. Chuck's chair squeaked. He muttered apologies.

"Colonel Sheppard. Come in, please."

Not even static bounced back at them. Acutely aware of the turn to Woolsey's mouth in her peripheral vision, Elizabeth stepped forward to cut the connection herself. Her hand hovered for a second while her eyes conferred with Chuck's. He nodded. She pressed the button. Radiant sunlight burst through the puddle as the 'gate deactivated.

Elizabeth tapped her headset. "Major Lorne."

"Uh...yes, m'am? Is this about before?"

"No – you're broadcasting in the control room," she informed him quickly. "John – I mean, Colonel Sheppard and his team have not reported in on schedule. I need you to have your team ready in ten minutes."

The frustrated sigh ghosted through the whole room. Elizabeth had a feeling he was engaged in his romantic troubles. She lowered her voice. "Sergeant Bates has not been off-world in two months, is that correct?"

"Yes, m'am," Lorne fired back.

"Alright. Please convey my message to him instead. And Major – "

"Yes, m'am?"

"This needs to end. Now."

"You're telling me."

Nena leaned over and whispered loudly, "Evan, she's in the training room. No, not that way. The left corridor."

Silence resumed, a good deal more awkward than a couple of minutes ago.

"Right. Thanks. Uh, Lorne out," was the response.

Everyone turned to face Woolsey, who patted his sides, apparently bereft without his briefcase. He linked his hands in front of him and cleared his throat. "Doctor Weir, I am not here to assess your performance, though that may happen at some point. What I am interested in, however – "

A human form pixelated into existence then a harried man in a labcoat demanded, "Elizabeth, do you need the infirmary on standby?"

The leader of the Atlantis expedition doffed her headset, rubbed her temples and wondered why in the Pegasus Galaxy she had ever thought the king of Atlantis would use a standard issue form of communication.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spacing out his toes so he could see the blue crash mat between the digits, Evan Lorne eyed his opponent with part-trepidation and part-bafflement. His intention in coming to the common sparring room had been to indulge in some grovelling and offers of condiments. Hopefully he would get some sense out of the situation. Instead, he'd been confronted with a blonde, barefoot Lieutenant wearing grey track pants and a black tank top. She had then thrust two staves at him.

Holding the bantos in a mirror image of her ready stance, Evan wished he'd made some time to learn how to use the Athosian weapons properly.

"Where's your conjoined twin?" Laura asked calmly.

He felt his lips unglue as his expression gaped. "My what?" Her right eyebrow quirked inward and Evan amended quickly, "Oh. No. Sergeant Bates is off-world. I'm not."

"So you're here instead."

Laura bent her knees slightly and a bar of light swept through the window to settle over her eyes. She didn't even blink. One bantos drifted until the point was directed at the left side of Evan's chest.

"Some party a couple of weeks ago," he began, and had to immediately duck when one of the fighting sticks thundered towards him.

The second bantos caught his stomach. Grunting, Evan dropped his sticks, snagged her wrist and corkscrewed her arm, forcing her back to him. He pulled on the limb, leaning to trap it between them. He continued, "Now I don't exactly remember everything that – "

A heel ground into his toes, then flicked up into a particularly sensitive region. Lorne fell to one knee before discovering where that foot of hers had got to – thudding against his chin, incidentally. Flattened on the crash mat, he observed the ceiling and decided that the Ancients really knew how to utilise arches to make the top of a room look higher than it was. Her face blocked one of the gentle light fixtures as she leaned over him. Her hand hovered in front of him.

Evan grabbed her arm at the wrist and elbow with his hands, tugging forcefully. She stumbled, but managed to dig her knees into his stomach on her way. He winced. That was definitely going to bruise. If she kept this up, he'd have to report to the infirmary with internal injuries. He shoved her knees apart to the floor beside him.

The straddle she ended up in was far too pleasant, and Evan swallowed.

"Next question," Laura drawled, tracing his jaw with one of the bantos. "Is your little friend still nursing a grudge about the chocolate thing?"

"Zelenka? You want to talk about Zelenka?" Lorne demanded.

"Guess not," she decided.

For a moment, neither said anything. Laura crossed her arms and leaned her elbows into his chest. Evan raised his eyebrows and chanced an uncertain smile.

"I don't know why you thought ignoring me would be a good idea," she mused. "Especially as I've kicked your ass twice now."

"This doesn't count," he insisted.

"You're right. Once is bad enough for your rep."

Lorne could feel his smile mutate into a large, silly grin. "But the second time can be more memorable."

"Sir, I'm going back to Earth in a few days." Laura sighed. "Your timing could be better."

"Sorry."

She stood, flicking her bantos sticks over by the window. They clattered and lay still. Laura held out her hand again, which Evan accepted, allowing her to pull him up this time. Still holding his hand, she walked towards the door, leading him along. She remarked, "We'd better make the most of that time, right. I know this great storage closet one floor down."

"Uh...someone else might know about it," he pointed out as they reached the stairs.

Laura turned her wicked smirk up at him from one step down. "Maybe it's one of the stashes you guys didn't find out about."

"Are you sure you don't want a picnic on the mainland?" Evan asked, belatedly realising that this entire confrontation was far from romantic.

"We can do the wooing part later. Right now I need to whip you into shape."

"Sure. But uh...don't you think it's weird that Atlantis could be watching us right now?"

Laura laughed. "Let her watch. If the CMO starts walking funny, we'll know where she gets her ideas from."

Evan had just enough time to fake a laugh of his own before she yanked him into her discreet hideout.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The control room existed in a vacuum as many abandoned ship in the wake of the stunned, slightly scandalised expression on the king of Atlantis' face. For a few minutes, everyone else had preoccupied themselves with the departure of Sergeant Donald Bates – who, by the way, had not been terribly pleased to be ordered off-world, and his mood had not improved when Lorne's radio had been discovered to be switched off. He did, however, smile when Nena waved down to him.

"Not what I'm used to, admittedly," Woolsey commented.

"Can't say I disagree with ye there," Carson said, shooting a look at his wife, now in her usual angelic white garb.

Woolsey smiled weakly. "So what does that make you...an emergency medical hologram?"

Carson's mouth opened, then he grinned that same lopsided grin. "Please state the nature of your emergency, lad. And no, I am solid, if that's what ye mean. I don't have a permanent hologram form."

The IOA representative offered a tentative hand, which Carson shook firmly. Woolsey drew back extremely quickly.

"I think I will...sit down," Woolsey said distantly, retreating to an empty chair. He waved away Nena's offer for a cup of coffee, even after she assured him it would be real.

Watching her current companions, Elizabeth knew they were unaware of how appreciative they should be of such a distraction. Her mind was divided between worry for Sheppard's team, worry for Bates' team, worry for Lorne's little problem and now...this! At least it was stirring shadows of humour in her mind, though she would never admit it. She kept her forehead creased and her mouth straight.

Carson stepped forward and began, "Elizabeth, I need ta tell you – "

"Carson, please," Elizabeth interrupted. "I do not have time to deal with anything else right now. I have one team missing and one about to look for them in a situation we don't know anything about. This interview is not as high on my priorities."

"Aye," Carson murmured, eyes narrowing in the direction of his wife and daughter. "Mr. Woolsey, I had no idea that my wife organised this with ye, or I would have made time for it. Ye asked me enough questions as it was when I was on Earth, wouldnae ye say?"

Richard Woolsey sat up abruptly, causing the springs in the wheely chair to screech indignantly. He winced slightly. "Is there any reason you choose to be defensive?"

"Damn it, Elizabeth, I wonae sit here – look, I can help ye find the team – well, Ronon at the very least – "

The Stargate thrummed warningly. Elizabeth slapped three fingers over the shield button a second before Chuck did. He awkwardly withdrew his hand, sullenly announcing, "Incoming wormhole."

The event horizon sprayed over the shimmering shield. The effect was hypnotic on Woolsey, whose glasses reflected a mixture of blue and yellow sparkles. Chuck's laptop beeped as symbols wrote themselves across the screen. He leaned forward.

"It's Bates' team!" Chuck exclaimed, swatting Elizabeth away from the switch so he could do the honours in dousing the shield.

"That can't be good," Elizabeth said, echoing the voice her mind that sounded a lot like it belonged to Lt. Colonel John Sheppard.

A blast of energy escaped the gate and smacked into the balcony section of the control platform. Richard Woolsey suddenly found haven underneath the console, but had to jostle Chuck for legroom. Three figures burst into the room from the wormhole, backs to the control room, their guns were still aimed towards the gate. Bates flew in from halfway up the event horizon and barked out very audible swear words when his hands and then the rest of his body hit the floor. He rolled several times before coming to rest at the feet of his team.

Elizabeth activated the shield and half-turned back to her CMO, but he was already gone. Nena drew in line with Elizabeth. Both Nena and Beckett waved down towards the lower level, where Carson was already kneeling beside Bates.

Nena tutted and shook her head. "Carson says that Donald says that it was – "

"Genii?" Meredith queried, eyes scrunched up tight as she also read the data Carson sent at them.

"Exactly!" Nena acknowledged, kissing her daughter on the head. "And it looks like Donald's right arm is broken. He landed very hard, poor thing. But he should not be saying those things about Evan."

Fed up with the second-hand information, Elizabeth jogged out to the scorched balcony and called down, "Are the Genii holding them hostage on the planet?"

"Not sure!" Donald shouted back, clutching his right elbow. "We think they may be on another planet but it's a trading world so God knows how many people have been dialling out."

"Get him to the infirmary!" Elizabeth ordered her Chief Medical Officer.

"Elizabeth, I need – " Carson began again, this time more urgently.

"This is still not a good time, Carson. I will join you shortly."

The doctor stared at her for a moment, then broke eye contact. He accompanied Bates out of the gate room. Elizabeth briefly admired her CMO's ability to put aside his personal frustrations, whatever they were.

She had professional frustrations to handle.

Elizabeth strode back into the control room and stopped short. "Chuck, where is our guest?"

"I don't know..." the technician answered, tongue hanging out of one corner of his mouth while he tried to rearrange the cards in his game of solitaire. "With Nena and Meredith, I think."

"And where are they?"

"I don't know...with Woolsey, I think..."

Pain sparked behind Elizabeth's eyes, before settling into a steady throb. She circled her palm ver her forehead. "Thank you, Chuck."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the trip to the mess hall and three different balconies, Richard Woolsey had indulged in some sustenance – that is, coffee and fresh sea air. Little did he suspect that his 'guide' was taking him in more or less a circle conducted over only two levels of the main spire of Atlantis. He may not have minded, anyway, except that the two females in his presence made him nervous.

"Actually, I'm a little relieved everything is so normal," Woolsey confided as they passed a gaggle of whispering members from the biology department.

Nena flawlessly created a puzzled expression for her face. "What do you mean?"

"I have not been off-world before."

"Oh! This is your first time?" She brightened when he nodded. "You should have said something, Richard. Carson would have taken you to get some read off-world soil on your shoes!"

He straightened his tie and performed a little cough with his hand. "If you don't mind, you should be addressing me as..."

"Woolsey," agreed Meredith. "Miss Woolsey."

A smile gritted its way onto Woolsey's mouth. "Well, no...but close enough. Where is the infirmary?"

Nena spun around swiftly and set Meredith beside her, taking the girl's hand in hers. Meredith braced herself unsteadily against Woolsey, who had unwisely chosen to walk so close to the women. She thrust her other hand up at him and he automatically took it, then realised his mistake as they both press-ganged him into following them back the way they had come.

"We passed it a few minutes ago," Nena explained. "I just thought we should get to know each other... and whether or not I should stow you in a stasis field for ten millennia. I have done that before."

Trying to ignore the fact that a child under the age of twelve months was walking alongside him with a low level of assistance from the adults, he asked neutrally, "And what have you decided?"

"You are an odd human, Mr. Woolsey, and I believe you do not wish harm to other humans. But what have you decided about me? And Meredith? Are we human enough for you?"

"That is not the real issue here," he admitted. "To be honest, it is not even your presence that concerns the IOA."

"Wha'?" Meredith interjected in an unmistakeable lilt.

Woolsey absently rubbed his thumb over the back of Meredith's hand as he delivered the news. "We want to know how we can use you."

"You are a crazy, odd man," Nena pronounced.

"Well. I try. Why do you say so?"

The entity of Atlantis beamed charmingly. "Most people who know me don't tell the truth because I can lock them out in the cold wearing just shorts."

"I see," Woolsey muttered and luckily did not have to reveal just how unsettled he was as Nena and Meredith pushed him into the infirmary where Elizabeth was already waiting.

"Why is she walking?" Carson Beckett demanded. "Lord knows it took me long enough to get her to crawl."

Meredith offered a tiny shrug. "Want to."

Her long-suffering father sighed. Bates, sitting beside him with his arm bundled up in a cast and a sling, chuckled. Carson drew back the bottle of painkillers he had been holding out for the Sergeant and warned, "I can forget I haven't given these to ye, lad." The doctor glanced at Woolsey. "I wasn't serious."

Elizabeth inserted herself between Beckett and Woolsey. "Sergeant, you were explaining why you were only gone for fifteen minutes."

"We ran into the chief trader of their village and he said something weird like 'we don't have time to send you to the planet too' then the Genii turned up. We were outgunned and outmanned, so I ordered a retreat. I'm sorry, m'am."

"Good work," Elizabeth encouraged.

His face darkened. "Can I go now? I need to find my 2IC and force him to write my report. It's his fault I can't use my writing arm."

"Evan's in his quarters," Nena supplied. "He'll be in a good mood so he'll probably agree to anything."

Her husband looked at her quizzically, then his blue eyes grew distant. His face blanched. "Nena! Do ye know nothing of privacy?"

"Should I ask?" Woolsey spoke up hesitantly while Bates slunk out of the room.

"NO!" Carson and Meredith exclaimed at the same time, following which Carson looked at his daughter with horror.

Doctor Weir, used to being excluded from such exchanges but unused to having it occur in front of a representative of the IOA, raised her voice above the level of everyone else. "Alright, that's enough. I need to organise a larger group of marines and to do that I need to call back a couple of teams."

"What I've been trying to tell ye..." Carson started.

"Give me a moment," she cut him short. "I need to think out loud or my head will hurt again."

Meredith clapped her small hands three times in staggered succession. "Listen to Da!"

The lights flickered and a strange groaning sound exuded from the walls. Woolsey visibly shrank. He closed his eyes and his mouth worked wordlessly. After a moment, he composed himself, but stayed well away from the scariest occupants of the infirmary. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, then realised the serious expression on her friend's face was more than simple exasperation. He had an idea.

"I mentioned it to ye several months ago, love," Carson explained. "I created a tiny chip that is perfectly safe to be embedded between the thumb and the index finger. It allows me track it – and the person equipped with it – over long distances. The deep space sensors are capable of doing so. This morning, I fitted the first device into Ronon."

"I thought Ronon didn't agree with its use," Elizabeth pointed out slowly.

"Ah, well, it was a work in progress. And besides, it was his idea. There have been rumours of the Genii planning abductions of our people..." Carson trailed off, realising along with everyone else in the room that he probably should have mentioned some of this before.

Woolsey, however, looked keenly interested. "Let me get this straight. You designed, and implemented, a device to track SG members across a galaxy? Can this be proven?"

Nena swooped over to throw her arms around her husband, kissing from his jaw to his shoulder. He gently prised her away. She flicked her fingers through his hair, smiling up at him. "Carsie-buns, you are smarter than most people think you are."

"Oh, aye, does that include ye then?" he demanded.

"No it doesn't, you naughty boy, and you know that."

He grinned and leaned her back into a slow dip, pressing his lips to hers. Nena looped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes.

"You were saying something about a chip...?" Elizabeth reminded them, not because she disapproved of such a cute display, but because Meredith was now holding onto her leg and was displaying a slightly evil twinkle her baby blues.

"Yes, I would like to see it work," Woolsey added.

Mr. and Mrs. Beckett separated. Carson straightened his labcoat. He ducked into his office and, when he returned, he was holding his laptop. He set it on the end table of the bed and waved a hand over the screen. The wireless allowed him to beam the data directly into it and the spectators crowded around it to watch the blue dot radiate at them from the screen.

"How far away is this?" Elizabeth asked.

Carson tapped a few keys and he smiled. "I believe we have this address in our computers. It's not tha' far at all."

A collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

Woolsey, naturally, had the highest priority on his mind. "How many of these can you make?"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...they knocked us out and took us away to keep the Genii from finding us. Trouble is, they wouldn't let us go back because they were sure the Genii were still there. So you guys turning up from our end persuaded them that we had another way home," John Sheppard finished.

The four team members were once again lined around the table, in varying degrees of comfort. Elizabeth and Carson sat beside each other at one end, both nursing empty mugs of green and black tea respectively.

"They do not take kindly to the Genii interfering in potential transactions," Teyla added.

"They drugged us!" Rodney exclaimed. "Who knows what else they gave us?"

John leaned to one side to regard his team mate with a carefully blank expression. "Well, we can bet it wasn't anything with citrus in it, otherwise we'd have a bit more quiet. Actually, Ronon, I'd never have pegged you as Carson's labrat."

"We know he can take out tracking devices," Ronon said. "Not like he's going to put in one he can't get out. He knows I'd shoot him if that happened."

"Aye, that's exactly it," Carson snorted. "Elizabeth, I'm going to make myself scarce. I imagine ye have a few more things to do here."

Outside, Dr. Beckett found himself in the path of Atlantis' distinguished guest. Carson appraised the other man's appearance. "Mr. Woolsey, I see ye've gone native."

Grimacing, Woolsey held out his arms to better showcase the standard Atlantis civilian uniform he was wearing. "Not by choice, I assure you. Your wife absconded with my suit. Thankfully, I'll be on my way tomorrow."

"Looking forward to the peace and quiet of the trip back on the Daedalus?" Carson asked.

Woolsey shook his head. "No, I think I'll be using the Stargate. I'd rather risk losing my limbs than my reputation on the Daedalus."

"I don't suppose ye'd like soil your shoes on the mainland?"

"Really?" The IOA's representative's eyes widened significantly behind his glasses as he imagined wild, impossible things. "You can do that?"

Carson laughed. "If Doctor Weir will let me take a Puddlejumper. I'm a doctor, not a transporter room. I need ta be back by night time, though. My lass has made a promise I intend to collect."

"Alright then. Should I bring anything?"

"How are ye for fishing?"

"I don't suppose you have a spare line."

"Of course I do. I've been trying to get a friend of mine out to the mainland for sech a thing."

"Oh. Well..." Woolsey offered a genuine smile. "Make it so."