dave quixote: the man of realto

The briefing room was locked with people outside wondering what SG-15 were doing with Elizabeth Weir, Caldwell and Sumner for so long. Since it was SG-15, it couldn't be anything good.

"You're giving me the Shiny, Marsha, and that ain't gonna be good for nobody," Dixon said threateningly, pointing at Sumner who sat on the other side of the room, next to Caldwell.

"Oh god, he's not going to go for our pants is he?" Rodney hissed to John, not avoiding being heard by everyone.

Sumner turned to Elizabeth at the head of the table. "This is what I'm talking about, Dr. Weir. These people are..." he struggled for the appropriate word, "too unconventional for my liking."

"I think the word you're looking for is weird, Colonel," Caldwell said, looking amused.

"Weird? Oh, that's rich coming from a man who chose a career that comes with free toe-tags," Rodney snapped. "SG-15 is a valuable asset to the Atlantis mission and by disbanding it you'll be putting-"

"Everyone's safety first?" Sumner asked.

"There are Wraith out there, Sir," John said with a scowl. "And we're out there fighting them like everyone else and I for one completely trust Colonel Dixon's command."

"Major, you were purple for a whole week and giggling like an idiot for three days under Colonel Dixon's command," Caldwell said, with his patented look of 'oh the morons, why?'.

John's mouth flapped open and shut for a moment as he nodded. He waved a hand and shrugged. "Well...now we know what kind of Ancient machines make people purple drunks."

"Colonel Sumner, surely the damage this team is capable of inflicting should be used against the Wraith," Lantesh offered.

Elizabeth grimaced and hid her twitching mouth behind her hand.

"I'm sorry, Dixon, but I think you'd all be better off re-assigned," Sumner said, not sorry at all by the look of it.

"What? That's crazy! We're a great team. True I had my doubts in the beginning having to work with a big violent lug, a sulky alien with a sarcastic snake in his head and a man that only has the settings lounge and horizontal, but I learned to make the best of it. And I'm smarter than all of you put together, which means my threshold for idiots is way lower than yours!" Rodney said.

His team members slowly turned to glare it him.

He looked at them and frowned. "What? I'm being nice." He looked at John. "Didn't you tell me to be more nice? That's what I'm doing."

John flopped forward on the table and buried his face in his hands.

"I ain't commanding no other team," Dixon snapped at Sumner. "I trust them and they pretend to trust me. Sure, McKay never knows when to shut up, but only twenty percent of what he says is bullshit, so I figure it's okay."

"Oh please, like you even understand percentages."

John groaned from where he sat between Dixon and Rodney.

"And sure Marty's got some emotional issues and Lantesh would take over the galaxy if he wasn't so old and pissed off at everything, but they know things I ain't never even heard of, so I figure that's more than okay."

Martouf sniffed, rubbing the corner of his eye, getting a pat on the shoulder from Dixon. "My apologies. I seem to have something in my eye."

"And sure Shep is more laid back than a drunken whore, but just like that same drunken whore, he'll pretty much do anything I tell him and he knows tricks too and I'm more than okay with that," Dixon said.

Elizabeth burst into a coughing fit, turning her chair away from the group for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Caldwell asked with concern.

"Dr. Weir?" Sumner asked, inching his chair a little closer, blocking Caldwell's attempt to do the same.

Elizabeth waved a hand and turned back around, her face red and eyes wet with tears. "Sorry, I, um. Something in my throat."

John glared at her with a scowl on his drunken whore face.

"Colonel Dixon is right," Martouf said. "We have grown to trust and rely on each other a great deal. We do not even notice each other's flaws anymore. I am now able to completely ignore Rodney when I feel his pessimism is somewhat distracting. John is not only a competent soldier, brave and kind, but he also knows a lot about clothing and accessories, which I find very helpful. As for Colonel Dixon, he is...well, he is a fine figure of a man. Soldier. A fine soldier."

Elizabeth smiled gently while Sumner rolled his eyes and Caldwell snorted.

Rodney looked at John. "You don't think I'm pessimistic do you?"

"Sorry, can't answer that. I'm too busy trying to figure out if I want you guys at my court martial," John said dryly.

"What about you, Major?" Caldwell asked with an amused smile. "Anything to add to why this team needs to stay together?"

"No. I'm guessing I'd only be helping you break it up faster," John answered flatly.

"I don't think you need anymore help," Sumner said. "To be frank I don't understand why SG-15 was put together in the first place. A scientist Area 51 was so happy to get rid of they sent the SGC flowers and chocolates. A man that narrowly avoided being stationed somewhere nice and cold for a long time because he can't follow orders and thinks it's okay to use his chopper to find the nearest beach. A man who the Tok'ra sent to the SGC with a psych report the size of Belgium and a symbiote more psychotic than Norman Bates. Oh, and the crowning glory, Dave Dixon. The man they call deranged."

Rodney snorted. "Rumors and lies, I think you'll find. There were no chocolates."

John fidgeted. "It was just the one time."

Martouf looked wounded. "I was coming out of a painful breakup with a system lord that shall remain nameless. And Lantesh is not psychotic. The urge to kill has long passed."

Dave frowned. "The man they call deranged? What is that? Some kind of crappy joke only you get? I will kick your ass, woman."

Sumner smiled and looked at Elizabeth. "Dr. Weir, I think I've proved my point. There is no need for SG-15."

"No need? Of course there's a need," Rodney said, like he was talking to an exceptionally annoying idiot. "Look, Colonel. This is Pegasus. Shit happens. And when shit happens, who you gonna call?"

Sumner rolled his eyes. "The other teams you'll be assigned to."

Rodney frowned and looked at John.

"Who you gonna call?" John asked.

"It sounded better in my head."

Elizabeth held up her hands. "Look, you have to admit that your team does seem to possess a gift for attracting trouble, but I'm not saying we should break you up permanently. How about as a temporary measure we re-assign you to other teams and see how it goes?"

"Ain't happening, mister," Dave said with a shake of the head. "Marsha here's just got a problem that I don't have a problem with all the things he's a got problem with."

"Colonel, you caused an avalanche and buried a whole village, which we had to relocate," Caldwell said.

"It's not like anyone died," Rodney said, once again looking as though he just didn't understand why the idiots didn't get it.

"Look, the bottom line is that the SGC has agreed that a temporary re-assignment might be a good idea, and that if you don't agree to it, they want you all back on Earth," Elizabeth said. "However, if you do this, give me some time to look over your recent reports, then maybe I'll decide SG-15 is fine the way it is."

"I'm sure you'll find it isn't," Sumner said flatly.

"Well, that'll be up to me to decide, Colonel," Elizabeth said firmly.

"Fine," Dixon said.

"What?" Rodney stood up. "What do you mean fine? They're splitting up our team."

"Pipe down, woman. I've made up my mind." Dave nodded to Elizabeth. "You wanna re-assign these guys? Go ahead."

"Sir?" John asked with a worried frown.

"You all wanna stay on Atlantis, right?" Dixon asked. "Well, you're gonna have to do what The Man tells you. But I won't be accepting the offer as Atlantis's security guard, because I quit."

"Dave, you cannot leave," Martouf said, not believing it.

"Watch me, Marty," Dixon said, eying Sumner dangerously.

"Then you have to return to Earth," Sumner said, looking as though he had won the victory.

"I ain't gotta do nothing I don't wanna do, woman. You check my file and you'll find a little note from the SGC that I can retire off world if I want. One of the perks of saving the planet three times, which I recall is three more times than you, Marsha."

"Your lunacy might have helped in the SGC. It's not going to work here, Dixon," Sumner said.

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm leaving," Dixon said.

"Colonel, are you sure this is what you want to do?" Elizabeth asked, looking disappointed.

"I made up my mind, mister," Dixon said with a nod and then turned to his men. "You girls look after yourself."

Rodney looked at Dixon, face unable to hide his disappointment. "Where are you going to go? Look, let's just do this temporarily. You don't have to quit."

Dixon held up a hand as he got up from his seat. "Don't be getting all emotional on me, woman. You know I can't stand it."

"Sir-" John started.

Dixon shook his head. "I ain't listening. I'm gone. I'm outta here. Don't cry me no river."

He walked away and strode out of the room, suddenly making it look like a much bigger place. Martouf looked heart-broken, while Rodney sat dejectedly and John looked at Elizabeth with disappointment.

Sumner looked at the remainder of the team. "Welcome back to normality."

Atlantis seemed significantly less relaxed now that the colonel who notoriously turned a blind eye to anything he deemed too boring to get his panties in a twist over was gone. Sumner's rules were clear. Being in constant peril was no reason to flaunt regulations or to have fun. People had work to do and there would be hell to pay if they didn't do it.

This resulted in many things like rude graffiti in the Ancients toilets, anonymous comic strips left lying around (one of which was depicting a Dixon vs. Sumner death match), a much more discreet flaunting of regulations and a tighter control of the city's bootlegging operation.

Elizabeth could smell the change in the air – specifically because stink bombs went off mysteriously whenever Caldwell and Sumner appeared – and it worried her. Dixon's departure had left a big gaping whole in the city. Namely a grenade accident when Marines were clearing out his closet. But an emotional hole also, of course.

Some of the Athosian women, and some of the men, had taken to wearing veils of mourning. The children didn't seem to want to play anymore and the military of Atlantis just didn't seem to feel the joy of random violence as much.

As for the team he left behind – well, old habits died hard.

Lieutenant Cadman, Dr. Katie Brown, Teyla Emmagen and Martouf of the Tok'ra were prisoners. It was meant to be a simple mission for gathering flora and fauna that Katie was sure had a detrimental effect on the respiratory system of the Wraith. Or at the very least, it could make them distracted and uncomfortable.

However, the locals accused them of raping the land and tainting the air with their evil souls, which meant a trip to the nearest prison cell, awaiting trial by stoning to death. Weapons and samples taken away, they sat in the small cell, biding their time and discussing important issues.

“Wait a second, wait a second,” Cadman said, holding up a hand. “He said he would change and then just carried on doing what he was doing?”

Martouf nodded. “Yes. But I was at fault for thinking I could change him. The Goa'uld never change.”

“Wow, and you were together for three years?” Katie asked.

“Yes. We had even exchanged bracelets to signify we would become consorts.”

“And yet, he continued to lie to you?” Teyla asked.

Martouf gave a sad nod. “Perhaps I was too ready to believe his lies. Ba'al could be most charming on occasion. Always offering to enslave planets in my name, build me new ships and more. In hindsight, these things should have alerted me to his intentions of not changing.”

“So, you left him,” Cadman said. “Well, you were way too good for him. Good riddance.”

“Yes, but he has vowed to take me back any way he can, even though I no longer have feelings for him. Well, not very big ones,” Martouf said with a sniff.

“I believe we know who your feelings belong to,” Teyla said with a knowing smile.

Martouf felt his face warm. “I am sure I do not know what you are referring to.”

“She talking about you having the horn for Dixon, Marty,” Cadman said with a grin.

Martouf frowned. “Horn?”

Katie smiled happily and gave Martouf a huge hug. “Oh, I'm so glad you're on our team.”

Martouf hugged her back, smiling and relishing the warmth, though Dixon's hugs used to be tighter and stronger and they smelled of explosives. How could the fragrant smell of a woman compare?

The lights in the cell went out as did the light behind the small gap under the door. In the moonlight spilling into the room they could see Teyla nod.

“Now?” Cadman asked.

Teyla nodded. “Now.”

They all got up and unzipped their pants, reaching for the grenades. Just before throwing them, Teyla smiled at Martouf, her eyes sparkling in the dark. “I am also very glad you are on my team.”

Martouf nodded and smiled, but couldn't help missing his old team.

“Keep running!” Major Lorne shouted to his team.

“Oh great, so this is what it's like being on a normal team?” Rodney said, running along with Lorne, Ford and Stackhouse ahead of them. “No, it's good, I'm enjoying it, really I am. In fact it would be even nicer experiencing normality again if it wasn't, oh, I don't know, the same as usual!”

“You know, if you shut up, you might be able to run a little faster, McKay,” Lorne yelled back.

“Yes, well, if wishes were horses,” Rodney snapped.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don't know! I'm panicking! It's my thing, it's what I do along with having a freakishly large intellectual capacity.”

“Oh yeah? Well why don't you find away to get the natives off our back without weapons, genius?”

“Oh god, I have an idea,” Rodney said.

“You do?”

Rodney stopped running and Lorne only realized a moment later. He stopped too and turned to look at the scientist who was unzipping his pants.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lorne asked.

Rodney looked at Lorne. “You know what's really funny? When I joined SG-15, that's the exact look I used to get on my face every time Dixon opened his mouth to bark. You know, the look normal people give to the insane. Now I'm getting the look. That's just unfair,” he said miserably.

“You're not having a nervous breakdown, are you? Because this would be a bad place to do that,” Lorne said, looking wary.

Rodney rolled his eyes and pulled out a grenade from his pants.

Lorne stared and then grinned. “I think I've just found a whole new level of appreciation for you, Dr. McKay.”

Rodney snorted. “Well, sure you're going to say that now.”

When John came to, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and found his hands couldn't reach his face. He opened his eyes to see fur lined manacles around his wrist and then looked down to see that his shirt was gone and his ankles were also manacled to a bed made of numerous silk sheets and cushions.

“Why does this always happen to me?” he mumbled, feeling light-headed and unnecessarily horny.

He made a quick assessment of the situation. It looked like a type a alien enforced sex situation or what Rodney called 'you just can't help it, can you?' situation. He had no weapons and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to use them.

Well, at least he had his pants, but if the person climbing up his body was anything to go by, he could be losing those pretty soon.

A grinning face came into view – the son of the tribe to be exact. He was smiling with his bright even teeth, his Fabio hair falling around his face and his tanned, muscled body shining with oil that was making John dizzy with need.

“Hey, Marlo,” John said lazily. “I thought I said no means no.”

Marlo smiled and leaned down to suck John's collarbone. “I think perhaps by no you mean, maybe.”

“No,” John said, drawing the word out. “It means no.”

Marlo reached down between them and cupped John's crotch, giving it a tight squeeze as John gave a tight squeak.

“It seems the rest of you thinks yes,” Marlo whispered and then stuck his tongue into John's ear.

John turned towards the mouth and kissed Marlo hard, surprising the other man who looked absolutely thrilled.

“Okay, so maybe I changed my mind,” John said breathlessly. “I can do that, right?”

Marlo nodded. “But of course.”

“How about you free my hands and I'll make it real interesting for you?” John asked, lifting his head from the pillow and rubbing his stubbled cheek against the other man's, whispering in his ear.

Marlo grinned. “Interesting?”

Sumner paced in the cell, looking at Zelenka and Markham. “Well, this mission's a bust.”

Zelenka lifted up his hand. “Why must I be here again? I am still not clear on this.”

Sumner rolled his eyes. “Everyone is required to go on field missions, doctor. Including yourself. Plus, I need you if we're going to find a power source out here somewhere.”

Zelenka nodded. “Right, of course. Well, in case you are wondering, I do not think we will find one here. Also, as head of science department, do you not think perhaps you should use someone less valuable? Like Kavanagh perhaps.”

“Doctor,” Sumner warned.

“I am serious. Nobody likes him. In fact he is the only reason my staff has bonded with each other. It is from dislike of this one man.”

Sumner sighed and glared at Markham who thought everything that came out of Zelenka's mouth was funny.

“What do you think they're doing with Major Sheppard, sir?” Markham asked.

“Who the hell knows?” Sumner asked. “I'll be damned if I know what this galaxy's smoking.”

“We are two hours overdue. Do you think it is too early for Dr. Weir to send a rescue team?” Zelenka asked.

Sumner smiled a little. “Well, she does worry easily.”

A series of explosions went off outside their cell somewhere and Zelenka and Markham were on their feet.

“Looks like the cavalry's here,” Sumner said.

Outside, there was a sound of chaos and panic, people screaming and shouting and running. The lights in the cell went out and the lock on the door clunked. Seconds later, the door swung upon and a shadow stepped into the room, with what looked like an unlit cigar in his mouth.

Sumner frowned. “Dixon?”

The man brought something out of his pocket and suddenly there was a flame lighting the cigar and John Sheppard's smiling mouth.

“Major Sheppard?” Zelenka exclaimed with a grin on his face.

John gave a lazy nod and pulled his handgun from his holster, holding it ready to fire. “Just saving the day, ladies.”

The briefing room held three teams, with Elizabeth and Caldwell also present. Caldwell was sitting with his usual expression, somewhere between boredom and bewilderment, while Elizabeth was pacing and talking.

“You cannot carry grenades in your pants. It's completely insane, not to mention dangerous,” she said, getting reproachful looks from some of the people in the room. “It's...it's...insane.”

“Ma'am, it saved our asses,” Lorne said. “If McKay hadn't been packing, we'd all be roasting on a spit by now.”

Rodney gave a smug lift of his chin, earning a pleased smile from John who sat across the room with his new team.

“Also, I find it quite pleasurable,” Teyla said, thoughtfully.

The whole room stared at her, some of the men looking a little glazed over.

She shrugged. “Well, I do. It has been a while since I-”

“Thank you, Teyla,” Elizabeth cut the other woman off. “I'm sorry, but I have to agree with Colonel Sumner and Colonel Caldwell. This is too unconventional even for me.”

“Dr. Weir, if I didn't have those grenades, I'd still be lying there with some horny alien getting real up close and personal and the rest of my team would still be sitting in a cell.”

“That is so typical,” Rodney muttered, this time earning a scowl from John.

Sumner made a face, but Zelenka was nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes. Major Sheppard is right. I think pants should be issued with grenades.”

Caldwell shook his head and laughed. “This is insane.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I agree with you, Colonel. No more grenades where there shouldn't be. That's an order and if it means having to frisk people before they go through the gate, then that's what's happening.”

No one in the room noticed, but suddenly colonels Sumner and Caldwell went very red.

“Seriously, we have to find a way to bring Dave back. I can't live with this level of non-cooperation,” Rodney said, vigorously scrubbing away at the last mission's dirt. “I mean, sure, Lorne's the leader of the team, but it doesn't mean he's right about everything or anything. Also, Ford is such a sore loser. Is it my fault he's bad at prime not prime, no, I don't think so. I wasn't handing out stupid when he was born, how is that my fault? As for Stackhouse, he's always asking about you. What am I? Your pimp? I wish he'd just hit on you and get it over with. Towel,” Rodney said, sticking his arm out of the shower and receiving a towel. “And now there's the no grenades policy. I can't live like this. It's not easy going back to being normal once you've been in Dixonville. I don't care what anyone thinks.”

Rodney wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out to see John sitting on the toilet, leaning forward with one elbow resting on his thigh as he smoked a cigar and blew perfect smoke rings,

Rodney grimaced and waved away the smoke. “I thought I told you to stop smoking that crap.”

John pouted up from the cigar, brows knitted together in a scowl. “The colonel left me a whole box.”

Rodney's shoulders sagged as he sighed. “What if he left you a whole box of anthrax?”

John rolled his eyes. “I'm not telling you what to do with the espresso he left you, which by the way I think you've had enough of.”

“Nonsense,” Rodney said, grabbing John by his wrist and pulling him up from the toilet, while grabbing the cigar, using his toe to press the button at the base for the retractable toilet seat and then throwing the offending item in.

“Hey,” John complained. “Those are Cuban.”

“So is Fidel Castro. I don't see you blowing on him,” Rodney said, pulling John out of the bathroom and shoving him down on the bed, where he just sighed and laid back, with hands behind his head as Rodney went about pulling on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. “You seen Martouf around?”

“No,” John said, watching Rodney hop around as he put on a sock. “I talked to Teyla though. She said her team's taking care of him.”

“That's hardly comforting. That could mean they're sitting around painting his nails and curling his hair,” Rodney said, landing next to John on the bed, his frowning face hovering over John's. “Sumner's just pissed everyone likes Dixon more than him.”

“This place is like high school,” John said, looking up at Rodney, as Rodney's hand palmed his stomach.

“Well, no. I never liked high school,” Rodney said with a smile.

John grinned. “Yeah? And Atlantis?”

“Oh, I like Atlantis,” Rodney said, nodding and smiling before lowering his head to kiss John. He pulled back scowling a moment later. “Okay, seriously, no to the cigars.”

John gave him an irritated look and got up. “I think I'll check in for the night.”

“Or you could just brush your teeth, use my mouthwash and come to bed,” Rodney said, comfortably stretching out.

John sighed and shook his head. It wasn't fair the sex card trumped everything.

Cadman laughed drunkenly, knocking back the rest of her drink. “His finger's still bent, you know?”

Teyla and Katie laughed, equally drunk as they sat on the floor of Teyla's room, surrounded by candles and smell of incense in the air. Martouf just sighed. Drink seemed to be making him more morose than anything.

“I used to like Dr, McKay,” Katie slurred. “But then I heard the rumors – which is really hot if you think about it.”

“Hey, shut up, I'm not supposed to know,” Cadman said, swaying a little. “We're not supposed to know about any of the stuff that's going on. Especially this fine and lethal booze by the good Marines of this city.”

“It is very fine,” Teyla nodded and drank down her glass.

“What's the matter, Marty?” Katie asked quietly. “You look so sad.”

“I fear I do not feel in high spirits,” Martouf said, drinking.

“Damn,” Cadman said. “How the hell someone can't get high on these spirits is beyond me.”

Teyla and Katie burst into giggles, falling against each other and continuing to drink.

Martouf sighed. “I think I will retire for the night.”

“Hey, hey, don't go, don't go. Stay,” Cadman said, making an uncoordinated effort to grab Martouf's arm. “Come on. We'll give you a manicure.”

Martouf shook his head. “There is no need. I had one yesterday, but thank you all the same. I will see you all later.”

The women made sounds of disappointment as Martouf left and headed away from Teyla's room. He was headed back to his own quarters, but somehow found himself outside Rodney's. He didn't want to disturb his friends, for he was sure Rodney would not be alone, but on the other hand felt utterly depressed.

He hit the panel on the side of the door and walked into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I am sorry, I did not know where else to go.”

“Oh, hey,” John said. “It's okay. You okay?”

“I fear I am not. Dave's departure is not sitting well with me.”

“No kidding,” John said. “Well, you're not the only one, you know?”

“I know. But, I should be stronger than this.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself,” John said.

“Oh my god, you freaks!” Rodney yelled. “Martouf, we are having sex here!”

Martouf looked back and frowned at Rodney who was moving over John under the thin sheet, while John was flushed and moving into each thrust with a look of pure bliss on his face, his hands gripping Rodney's arms.

“You do not have to stop on my account,” Martouf said.

Rodney opened his mouth to say something but gasped instead, which made John grin and Rodney glared at him and gave a strangled, “Bastard.”

Martouf turned away and sighed. “I just miss the old team.”

“Sumner's right, he's so fucking right about us. We are so far from normal it's not even funny,” Rodney said, grunting between words, while John laughed, gasped and cursed. “I mean, who does this? Who...who, oh, god, stop that! No, no, no...oh. Oh.”

A muffled gasp escaped from John's mouth and Martouf could hear both men stilling behind him, the air filled with their harsh breathing and the smell of sex and sweat.

“I wonder where Dave is right now,” Martouf said, his heart sinking.

He felt a warm hand limply pat his back. “I'm sure he's okay wherever he is,” John said, sounding lazy and satiated.

“Oh, that is it. Both of you freaks out of my quarters, now,” Rodney snapped. “Out!”

Ten minutes later, in an almost empty mess hall, John bit into a burger, eating enthusiastically as Martouf sat opposite, moodily staring into his tea, wondering now and then if he should suggest John zip up his top to hide the glaringly new bruise at the base of his throat.

“It is not the same here anymore. My new team is wonderful, but it is not the same,” Martouf said.

John nodded in agreement. “You've got that right. Sumner's been watching me like a hawk since he put me on his team.”

“Well, it's simple. We have to do something to make everyone realize how important Dave is.”

John and Martouf looked up to see Rodney standing there in civvies, coffee in one hand and muffin in the other. He sat down next to John as John gave him a sulky look, which he completely ignored.

“What do you suggest?” Martouf asked.

“Well, I don't know yet, do I?” Rodney said with irritation. “Obviously the fact that everyone's walking around like their poodle died is having no effect and could you zip your shirt up please? The word discreet mean anything to you?” Rodney sniped at John.

John frowned down at Rodney's hand which suddenly zipped him up. John pushed the hand away with a scowl. “Real discreet, McKay.”

“Look, Caldwell and Sumner are making us look like a crazy bunch of yahoos and my guess is that eventually, he'll have us shipped back to Earth. We have to bring the original yahoo back before that happens because our yahooness pales in comparison to his yahooness.” Rodney sighed and bit into his muffin. “Damn it, I used to have words before I joined this team.”

John smiled at Rodney, giving him a comforting pat on the back. “I'm sure you'll come up with something to make Weir see the city misses him.”

Rodney slowly turned to look at John with a grin on his face. “Oh my god, you're a genius. The city. We have to show Weir the city misses him.” Rodney picked up his muffin and coffee. “I have to go see Zelenka.”

Martouf and John watched him barrel out of the room the way he always barreled in and out of every other room in the city.

“I am not sure what just happened,” Martouf said.

John shrugged and picked up his remaining burger. “Try not to over think it. It'll just make you crazy.”

Elizabeth was taking a shower. Elizabeth liked taking showers. The Ancients had great showers, power showers in fact. Smart showers that could detect things like height, weight, sex, stress and probably even dandruff. The Ancient showers were so smart that sometimes they liked to lend a hand if someone was feeling just that extra bit stressed, something to take the edge off.

Elizabeth Weir found herself stressed a lot and therefore in a somewhat inappropriate relationship with her Ancient power shower.

On this particular morning, she was happily standing under the shower, smiling and letting the hot water wake her sleepy muscles up. Only, a moment later, the water turned ice cold and music started blaring into the bathroom.

Elizabeth jumped from the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself. She found her headset and her day started with a question she never thought she'd be asking.

Why was Bruce Springsteen blaring into her shower with icy cold water?

“What do you mean you don't know? This is your job isn't it?” Sumner asked with irritation.

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes as Zelenka gave him a weary look. They both looked at Elizabeth whose hair looked fuzzier and a littler messier than usual. Judging by everyone's else's hair in the city, it seemed that not being able to use blow dryers was laying bare many beauty secrets.

“Elizabeth,” Zelenka said, “Like I said, every time we repair a problem, the city is simply reverting back. I cannot explain it. It is being very temperamental. ”

The familiar Bruce Springsteen song that had been playing on a loop, everywhere, all morning, started up again.

“Can you at least turn that song off?” Elizabeth asked, looking stressed out.

“We tried,” Rodney said. “We can't even find where the city's accessing it from. I'm very impressed actually.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Sumner said. “How nice for you, doctor. Need I remind you that having an alien city acting out of your control isn't exactly in the best interests of everyone living here?”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Rodney said calmly. “I was just complimenting the technological sophistication of such an intelligent design.”

Sumner narrowed his eyes. “How about you both go work on the problem and compliment the intelligent design later on?”

“And please find a way to turn that song off,” Elizabeth said, still looking rather stressed. “Or at least see what you can do about getting the hot water back.”

“And then, I found him with Nirrti, in our bed. Even so, I thought perhaps it was some kind of mistake, but then most people do not accidentally fall naked into a bed together.”

Kate Heightmeyer grimaced at Martouf who was sadly gazing down at his hands. If this were Earth and she had children, she could probably put them through college on Martouf's visits alone.

“You know, Martouf, I don't usually say this,” Kate said gently, “but, really, you need to get over it.”

Martouf looked up at her, a little surprised. “Get over it?”

Kate shrugged. “Well, yeah. Don't you think it's time you stop dwelling on this and move on? I mean, a relationship with a Goa'uld – that's bound to fail. It's like lending money to a gambler. Trust me, I know.”

Martouf frowned. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. There was this guy, Jimmy...well, that's not important. What's important is that you stop blaming yourself for a breakup that wasn't your fault.”

Martouf's eyes flashed. “That is what I have been telling him. Humans are idiots.”

“Lantesh, what have I said about you interrupting sessions?” Kate asked sternly.

“Like I said, humans are idiots,” Lantesh replied with a flash of eyes.

“I am sorry,” Martouf said. “Lantesh is having a bad day.”

“Oh, we all are,” Kate said, smoothing down her frizzy hair.

Martouf suddenly stiffened in front of her and looked as though he had just realized something. “Dave?”

Kate frowned at him. “Martouf?”

“I smell Dave,” Martouf said with confusion. “Does this mean I am insane?”

“Possibly,” Kate said sniffing the air. “Actually, come to think of it, I smell something too. Smells like smoke.” She sniffed again. “Huh. Cuban.”

Caldwell was staring at Teyla as though she had sprouted an extra head. “I'm sorry, could you run that by me again?”

Teyla smiled serenely. “Of course, Colonel. As I said before, the children were very fond of Colonel Dixon when he was here and they have sorely missed his presence. They have not been themselves at all. I was hoping that perhaps you or Colonel Sumner could find some time to spend with them. They look up to you and I think it would take their mind off of Colonel Dixon's departure.”

“Exactly what do you expect us do?” Caldwell asked.

Teyla smiled sweetly. “Just your manly presence, Colonel.”

Caldwell smiled. “I'll see what I can do.”

He gave her a polite nod and walked away, disappearing down the corridor. Teyla knocked on the doors of the workout room and they slid open, John sticking his smiling head out from between them.

“Nice move,” he said with an appreciative nod.

Teyla gave him a smug lift of her brow. “I thought so.”

“You people are nuts, you know that?” Lorne said, watching as Zelenka and Rodney quietly conferred on something, giggled together and then looked back at him. “Seriously, if you think Sumner's not going to find out, you're crazy.”

“Well, if he does find out, I'll know whose big mouth was at fault,” Rodney said, glaring at Lorne.

Lorne frowned. “Pipe down, McKay. I like Dixon. I want him to come back. Everyone does. I'm just not sure how pumping cigar smoke into the vents is going to achieve anything.”

Rodney sighed and looked at Zelenka. “Must be tough being so limited.”

“Very,” Zelenka said with a nod of agreement.

Sumner frowned at the children gathered around Caldwell. He'd never known Caldwell to be a kid person, but there he was, smiling and answering questions. Then Elizabeth appeared with Teyla and there were smiles all around, especially from Caldwell to Elizabeth. Especially when Caldwell was nice to one of the kids.

“Something wrong, Sir?”

Sumner turned to look at Lieutenant Ford and cocked his head towards the small crowd. “Any idea what that's all about?”

Ford peered past Sumner to look into the corridor. “Oh, yeah. Teyla said the kids were missing Colonel Dixon. She told Colonel Caldwell that they really look up to you and him and wanted to know if either of you would spend some time with them. He didn't tell you, Sir?”

Sumner narrowed his eyes at Caldwell, who was eying up Weir again. “No, he did not.”

“Probably just slipped his mind,” Ford said.

“Shouldn't you be doing something, Lieutenant?” Sumner asked.

“Me? Oh, yeah. I was just on my way to inventory.”

“Well, get to it, Lieutenant. Don't stand around,” Sumner said, receiving a crisp departure as he headed towards the small crowd.

The night was upon Atlantis, the stars were shining bright, Bruce Springsteen was playing across the city, while on the north pier there was a gathering of children and adults.

Martouf, Cadman and Katie sat on a balcony and watched as Teyla and Elizabeth stood to the side and the children got ready to play some game.

Cadman handed the joint to Katie, Martouf sitting between them.

“I'm just saying, you're too pretty and nice to keep sulking over the guy that got away. You know? Guys are way too much trouble anyway. Ever think about dating women?” Cadman asked.

Martouf accepted the joint from Katie and took a drag, breathing it in and trying to stop his eyes from watering. “I have been with women. I have just never found the one. I thought Ba'al was perhaps the one, but he was...he was so mean.”

Katie rubbed a hand across his back. “I can't believe someone would be mean to you. I mean, you're hot and sweet and, oh, everything.”

“Totally,” Cadman agreed. “I would totally do you.”

Martouf looked at Cadman and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, buddy.” Cadman gave him a firm pat on the back. “Oh, man, we should've got some crackers or something.”

The big projection screen was set up, the drinks were in and the security tight. Everyone finally sat down, Lorne, Ford, Markham and Stackhouse on the couch, with Zelenka on a stool, already crunching on some savory, Sheppard perched on a table and Rodney standing in front of the screen, arms out like some kind of messiah.

“Okay, so, I believe these are the rules,” he said. “Caldwell gets hit, one drink. Sumner gets hit, two drinks. If they both get hit at the same time, that's three drinks. Clear?”

Everyone raised a glass and nodded.

“You forgot one,” John said. “Four drinks for manly posturing and trying to get Dr. Weir to notice them.”

Rodney pointed at John. “That's a good one. Okay, the feed should come on any second.”

Rodney jumped up on the table and sat next to John, taking the glass of clear liquid that was handed to him. The screen fuzzed to life and showed the children running around in an unruly fashion, each one equipped with a ball and aiming for the two colonels.

John looked at Rodney and smirked. “Nice work on the subversion of dodge ball rules there.”

Rodney grinned back proudly and took a drink as the first hit was made.

Carson and Kate clinked glasses, smiling at each other. The lights were dimmed, the food was delicious and Bruce Springsteen was still filling the air.

“I'm glad we finally did this,” Carson said with a happy smile.

Kate smiled back. “Me too. And it's such a beautiful night.”

Carson nodded and looked at the window, sighing, stilling, frowning, putting his drink down. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” Kate asked, following his gaze and looking out of the window. “Oh.”

“Bloody hell, violent little buggers, aren't they?” Carson said, wincing.

“That must really hurt,” Kate said, moving closer to the window.

“Well, I suspect even the lightest touch can be painful there sometimes,” Carson said, fidgeting in his seat.

“You think they might need some medical attention?” Kate asked, peering hard.

Carson picked up his drink and took a gulp. “Oh, they'll be fine. Oh! Did you see that? Right in the nuts.”

The briefing room was filled with the smell of cigars and the sound of Springsteen. Elizabeth sat with her dark circles and even frizzier hair than the day before. Sumner and Caldwell had bruises on their faces and Rodney and Zelenka were pale and wincing at every little noise.

“You actually expect us to believe this?” Sumner asked.

Rodney sniffed, his eyes stinging a little and his head pounding. “I'm always serious, Colonel.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Let me get this straight. You think Atlantis misses Colonel Dixon so it's trying to recreate his presence?”

“Well, yes. I realized once this place started smelling like a box of cigars. Not to mention the numerous and unexplainable grenade explosions in some areas of the city.”

“Yes. Also, last night I am sure the city lights were lit to spell Dixon across one of the towers,” Zelenka said with a nod.

“Also, this happens to be that big lunatic's favorite song,” Rodney said, pointing up at the ceiling.

“What, a crock,” Sumner said. “It's obvious what's going on here. These people are making it look like the city's reacting to Dixon not being around. Odds are you two are behind this. I'm sure Sheppard's probably got a hand in it too.”

“Oh please,” Rodney said with a roll of the eyes. “Do you have any idea of the trouble we would have to go to do all this? The manpower and the time that would have to be devoted to it? Sure everyone liked, Dixon. But not that much.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Of course not.”

“Well, fix it,” Sumner said.

“Oh sure, because it's that easy,” Rodney said.

“You do your job, doctor. If you can't do your job, I suggest you go back to Earth,” Sumner said.

Rodney opened his mouth to bitch out Sumner, because, what the hell? Only, Zelenka was up on his feet.

“Colonel, if anyone is going to fire members of my staff, I think it should be me and I am afraid I must inform you that Dr. McKay is a valued member of my team who is not going anywhere.”

Rodney blinked up at Zelenka. “Well...thank you, Radek.”

“Yes he can be loud and grating sometimes and you cannot even think of leaving a cup of coffee anywhere near him, but without him, I am not sure this city would be running so well.”

“Thanks...I think.”

“And, yes, maybe on occasion he has used the lab to be frisky with his...girlfriend, but I will not deny a man praise because of his hedonistic ways.”

Rodney glared. “Okay, you know what, Radek, shut up.”

“Bring him back.”

Zelenka's mouth was on the way to opening again, but snapped shut. Everyone looked at Caldwell's bruised eye and taped nose.

“What?” Rodney asked.

“Dixon. Bring him back,” Caldwell said. “I don't know about the city, but I think the people here are willing to go to great lengths to show us exactly how much they want him around.”

Sumner sighed and shook his head. “I can't believe this.”

“Dr. Weir, I suggest you have SG-15 bring Dixon back. Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka, this music will stop and so will this smell. Is that clear?”

“Well-” Rodney began to lie.

“That's not a question,” Caldwell said. “I think Dr. Weir would like to tell you that as soon as Atlantis is back to normal, you and your team are to go and find Colonel Dixon. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see Dr. Beckett.”

Caldwell got up and limped out of the room, Elizabeth smiling as she watched him go and Sumner scowling.

“Well,” Elizabeth said, “how about getting those showers working first?”

The mess hall was bustling with the second breakfast rush, loud voices filling the air. Except for the table Rodney and Zelenka were headed to. Though it had the most people, ironically it was the quietest.

Cadman, Katie and Martouf looked tired and sulky, while John, Lorne, Ford, Stackhouse and Markham looked green around the gills. Teyla was the only one that looked bright and cheerful.

“You military, such lightweights,” Zelenka said as he had Rodney sat down at the table with their healthy portions of food.

Stackhouse took one look at the food and bolted from the table. Markham watched him go and looked at the rest of the table, pointing at his friend. “I should see if he's okay.”

He followed quickly and John shook his head and rolled his eyes, catching Rodney watching him and giving him a narrow-eyed look.

“How did your meeting go with Dr. Weir?” Teyla asked.

Rodney grinned at Zelenka and then looked at the rest of the table. “She wants us to bring Dixon back.”

“Actually, Colonel Caldwell convinced her. I think perhaps he does not like Bruce Springsteen,” Zelenka commented.

“I know how he feels. If I hear this song one more time, I'm going to cut off my own head,” Lorne groaned, letting said head fall on the table with a smack.

John frowned at the fallen man and then Rodney. “Sumner say anything?”

“No, I think he was too busy hating Caldwell,” Rodney said, taking a generous gulp of coffee and looking at Cadman and co. “What the hell's wrong with you?”

Cadman just blew out a breath. “Athosian happy leaf. Doesn't make you so happy when you wake up.”

“I want to die,” Katie said, falling against Martouf who gave her a small pat on the head.

“You don't look so bad,” Rodney said to Martouf.

Martouf smiled. “Thank you. You also look very fetching this morning.”

Rodney scowled. “No. I mean for someone who's been smoking Athosian pot.”

Martouf gave a nod. “Oh. I suspect it is just a good morning.”

“Sure it is. Now that the colonel's coming back,” Cadman said, elbowing Martouf and getting a laugh from Katie and Teyla.

“I guess you'll have you're team back,” Ford said with a yawn..

Cadman looked sad all of a sudden. “I never thought of it that way.”

“We can still spend time together,” Martouf said.

“Really?” Katie asked.

“Sure,” Rodney said. “He's always doing stuff we have no interest in.”

“When is Colonel Dixon returning?” Teyla asked.

“Soon as we get everything back to normal, which should take a few hours,” Rodney replied.

Lorne looked at John. “Where is Dixon anyway?”

John shrugged. “Just some planet we visited once. Quiet and peaceful place. He really liked it.”

“Quiet and peaceful? Doesn't sound like a Dixon place,” Ford said with a frown.

Martouf smiled. “It is a common misconception that Dave creates chaos wherever he goes. I am sure he is capable of enjoying quiet and solitude.”

“Hyahhh!” Dave yelled and urged his horse on, galloping across rough terrain under a hot sun on dried ground.

His pursuers closed in so he reached for his holster and pulled out his gun, twisting around and firing off three shots.

“Ain't nobody getting the better of Dave Dixon, mister!” he yelled back, before snapping the reins and muttering under his breath, “So much for goddamn peace and quiet.”

John, Rodney and Martouf stepped out of the gate and looked out at the forest ahead of them. Here it was, the place that Dave Dixon had retired to for the quiet life.

They took a leisurely stroll through the forest, Martouf looking happier than he had in days, while Rodney looked annoyed by the heat and insects and John seemed reasonably calm.

“I can't believe Dave's been here a week and this place is still standing,” Rodney said, as they left the creek and headed out towards the nearest town.

“I think it is unfair to imply that Dave's presence is detrimental to peaceful environments,” Martouf said, looking quite sour.

“I think it's unfair to dismiss the fact that the man is a complete lunatic,” Rodney said, slapping the back of his neck and grimacing at the splodge of insect that came away on his fingers. “Of course, having said that, he is our lunatic and the best thing we can do for this galaxy is to contain the lunacy by bringing it back with us.”

“You're all heart, Rodney,” John said with a smirk.

“Well, well, well. What's this?” a slow feminine drawl asked,

Rodney looked at Martouf with narrowed eyes. “I think we're about to find out how detrimental an effect Dave's had on this environment.”

The three men turned around to face three horses with their riders, guns drawn and faces covered by bandannas, framed by long wild hair.

The woman in the middle cocked her head at the three men, her brown hair shifting around her face. “What are you doing in these parts, blue eyes?” she asked, waving her gun at Rodney.

“Um, tourists. Think you can recommend any hot spots?” Rodney asked nervously.

The woman on the left of the brunette laughed, shaking her blonde hair. “I got some hot spots I'd like to you show you.”

“We're not looking for trouble,” John said, fingers inching towards his P90.

The woman closest to him pointed the gun right at his head, her red hair gleaming under the sun. “You keep those fingers where I can I see them, pretty mouth. Wouldn't want me blowing them off now, would you?”

Martouf stepped forward, holding his hands in the air. “We have been to this planet before and mean no harm. We simply wish to find our friend and return home.”

“Oh yeah? Who's your friend?” The Blonde asked.

“Dave Dixon. Tall, wide, deranged,” Rodney offered.

The Blonde looked at The Brunette and then back at Rodney, leaning forward on her horse. “I thought you said you weren't looking for trouble.”

“We're not,” John said, still eying the gun pointed at him.

“Well, I think you'll find that trouble is Dave Dixon's middle name,” Red offered.

“I think you'll find it is Marion,” Martouf said with confusion.

Red laughed. “I like you.”

Martouf smiled pleasantly. “Thank you. I am sure I would find you as pleasant if you were not holding us at gunpoint.”

Red looked at The Blonde and laughed some more. Then she looked at John and pulled back her gun. “You give Dixon our regards now. Tell him the Cleef sisters say howdy.”

The Brunette suddenly threw something in their midst that exploded and sent up smoke everywhere. There was a sound of hooves and horses galloping away as their riders fired shots into the air. When the air cleared, Rodney gave John an irritated look and shook his head,

“It's like his lunacy is infectious. I'm sure this planet was normal when he visited it last time.”

But John wasn't listening. He was looking around them with worry. “Rodney, where's Martouf?”

Rodney looked around. “Oh my god. They stole Martouf! Never trust women in close formation!”

“We've gotta find him,” John said, pulling Rodney up from where he had fallen.

“What about Dave?” Rodney asked. “As crazy as this sounds, it might be an idea to find him first. I mean, he's pretty good at attracting trouble and the three horsewomen of the apocalypse there were definitely trouble.”

John sighed. “So much for a simple mission.”

As was typical of a typical situation, the towns people insisted on knowing nothing, to which Rodney responded by saying many mean and derogatory things that made John worry they'd be going back to Atlantis in body bags.

Finally they got their information from the kind of person that no one wanted to talk to; an old guy with stories about the old days and how nowadays everything was crappy and ought to go back to the old days.

Amidst his grievances, Old Guy said that the only Dixon he knew of was over at Realto, a small town a few miles away that people usually stayed away from because it was obviously the home of the devil himself and everything there was wrong and twisted and wrong.

Rodney remarked that it sounded like the kind of place Dave would naturally be attracted to. They exchanged their watches, along with a lot of the contents of their backpacks for two horses and clothing to make them look less conspicuous in what Rodney had dubbed Westworld.

On John's insistence, he was dressed like quite the respected gentleman because apparently he seemed too pissy for a cowboy. John on the other hand was lazily sat on his horse, as they followed the trail to Realto, dressed in black pants, black chaps, black shirt and waistcoat, topped off by a black hat.

“You know what I don't get?” he asked in that lazy way that made Rodney want to get naked now. “How the hell does a place in Pegasus end up like the old west?”

Rodney pulled at the collar of his very starched shirt, opening the buttons of his smart jacket and waist coat. “I try not to think about it.”

John frowned at Rodney. “You don't? That doesn't sound like you.”

“Well, I figure some things are too stupid to make sense out of, so why waste the braincells? You look really hot.”

John frowned, making a face. “Rodney,” he reprimanded.

“What? There's no one else around.”

“It's still a mission.”

“Yes, one on which you are dressed like Yul Brynner and I'm dressed like an undertaker.”

John looked Rodney over and then smiled. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

Rodney snorted. “What happened? Did the mission end when I blinked?”

“Hold it!” a loud female voice demanded.

“Damn it,” John said. “I swear I used to be quicker at grabbing my guns.”

“Sex makes you lazy,” Rodney said, holding his hands up. “Makes you want to grab the wrong kind of shooting things.”

“Hey! Shut your yap,” the voice demanded, just before a woman rode out in front, gun pointed at Rodney. Behind her, several other women rode out on their horses, dressed in their chaps and leathers, guns pointed at the two men. “Where you girls headed?”

“Realto,” John said carefully. “On business.”

The mousy haired woman snorted. “There's only one kind of business in Realto for someone that looks like you, honey.”

“Well, maybe that's where we're headed,” John said with a smile.

The woman laughed. “I ain't never seen no one ride to Realto to join up before.”

“Hey, Darlene!” A very familiar voice called out from the trees.

The woman, Darlene presumably, looked around, her friends also startled. “I don't want no trouble, Dixon, you hear?”

“I hear you, mister. I also see you standing there holding up my friends. I don't care for it much either,” Dave's disembodied voice replied. “I'm thinking you're going to turn around and ride off into the sunset and ain't nobody gonna get killed today.”

Darlene steadied her gun, pointing it at Rodney's head. “The way I see it, Dixon, there's three of you and six of us. You ain't in the place to be telling me what to do.”

Shots were fired, hats went flying as well as guns and when the smoke cleared, Darlene was holding onto her hand, which was bleeding and her whole band of women had no guns left.

“And I wasn't aiming for your heads, mister,” Dave shouted. “Now, how about you turn it around and call it quits for the day.”

Darlene glared at John and Rodney. “Raines is gonna hear about this, Dixon. Ain't nobody gonna be able to help you then, woman.”

“I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, mister.”

Rodney slowly turned his head towards John. “It's like being in the twilight zone on really bad drugs,”

The women rode off in a huff, but left behind a nice clean flowery smell that was always appreciated. There was a rustling in the trees and suddenly Dave jumped out wearing brown leather pants with an unbuttoned suede shirt over his black t-shirt and a long leather coat, not to mention a huge gun in his hand that seemed to have some homemade modifications to it.

Dave grinned at Rodney and John, cigar in one corner of his mouth and gave a nod. “Knew you girls would miss me.” Then his grin gave way to confusion. “Hey, where's Marty?”

Raines cocked her head to the side, a look of confusion crossing her face and her black hair sliding to one side. She brought up her black booted foot to prop on the chair in front of Martouf, leaning on her knee.

“So, you're telling me, he made out like you were the one and then bunked up with someone else?” Raines asked.

Martouf nodded sadly. “Yes. I fear it is something I just find impossible to get over.”

Raines flunkies nodded in sympathy as Raines sat down, straddling the chair and giving Martouf a curious look. “So, tell me, how'd you meet this Ba'al anyway?”

Martouf sighed. “That is a long story.”

Raines smiled. “That's okay, honey, you ain't going anywhere for a while.”

Martouf thought it over. “Well, it started when the Tok'ra sent me to infiltrate Ba'al's operation...”

“I can't believe you lost Marty,” Dave said, shaking his head as he rode Rodney's horse, Rodney now sharing with John.

“We didn't lose him, Dave,” Rodney countered. “He was stolen by the Cleef sisters, who say howdy by the way.”

“The Cleef sisters? Man, I am getting mighty sick of those fellas.”

“Okay, seriously, this gender confusion is really beginning to chafe,” Rodney snapped at John.

“Could you not hold on so tight? You're cutting off the circulation to my legs, McKay.” John said, trying to loosen the grip around his waist.

“Oh? Really? Well, next time you're attached to me like an octopus, I think I'll just toss you out of bed,” Rodney replied.

“Rodney,” John warned with gritted teeth.

“Huh, I didn't peg you for a cuddler, Shep,” Dave said.

John groaned and closed his eyes, pulling his hat down a little.

“Ain't nothing to be ashamed off. Me? I'm a cuddler too. Takes the edge off all the violence of the day,” Dave said, looking rather wistful. Then he looked John up and down. “High Noon?” John gave a slow nod and Dave nodded back. “Figured.”

“So, what's the deal with the Cleef sisters? And who's Raines?” John asked.

“Cleef sisters are Raines' hired guns, and Raines is the bigshot that runs half of Realto. See, what happens is, Dave rides into town and figures he's got the same rights as any mister, only Raines wants me to work for her and I'm all, hell no! So she's all insulted and backs me into a corner and I end up owing her a show down. Only, if I lose this show down, it's bad news for me. So, I tell her no way, I ain't drawing guns in the middle of Realto. She's been trying to get me to face her since the day I got here. Only, now it looks like she might just get her shot. Ten to one the Cleef sisters handed Marty over to Raines.”

Rodney leaned close to John and whispered in his ear. “Did you get any of that?”

John nodded. “We're in trouble.”

Dave took them to his humble abode, which was a huge split level barn. The top floor was where he had been living and the bottom floor was something that looked suspiciously like a pizza parlor, the tables mostly occupied by gun carrying women, the waiters young men.

Dave got a few waves and smiles as he climbed the stairs, John and Rodney in tow.

“A week. You've been here a week and you've managed to to go into business and make enemies,” Rodney said, astonished. “Welcome to the universe on crack.”

“Woman, ain't you ever sick of criticizing me?” Dave said, putting a huge metal kettle onto a stove.

“Not as sick as hearing you call me woman,” Rodney muttered.

“Sir, I get the feeling we don't have the full story here,” John said, looking over the balcony and down into the pizza parlor. “Exactly what did Raines want you to do for her?”

“Raines runs the cat house across town. Thought I'd sign up to be one of her floozies, just because I was new in town and had nothing going on. Thought I was some kind of easy. But I said, no way, mister. I ain't no whore.”

Rodney watched John who seemed to be mulling over what Dave had just said. “Did you want to?”

John shook his head. “No, it's okay. Go ahead.”

Rodney nodded and then looked at Dave. “I'm sorry, are you telling me she wanted you to be a prostitute?”

Dave nodded. “That's about it.”

“Wouldn't you kind of stand out?” John asked slowly.

Rodney suddenly pointed at Dave. “She runs a place with a male prostitutes. Oh my god, she wanted you to be a gigolo?”

Dave nodded. “Damn straight. But I told her Dave ain't jiggling nothing for nobody.”

“Sir, she's got Martouf. How worried should we be?” John asked.

“Oh please. We should be more worried about Raines shooting herself,” Rodney said.

“Raines won't hurt Marty. Her beef's with me,” Dave said. “I tell ya, some fellas just can't take no for an answer.”

“Hang on a second. You were going to get to have lots of sex, what exactly was the problem? Sex is good,” Rodney explained. “We're not women. We don't have high standards. All sex is appreciated.”

“Well, I got standards and I got plenty of them, woman,” Dave said with irritation.

Rodney rolled his eyes and looked at John, while pointing at Dave. “This man clearly has no brain.”

Martouf sat on the edge of his nice big bed, once again feeling sad after having told his long story of love and betrayal. If he wasn't mistaken, some of Raine's women had tears in their eyes.

Something thumped hard against the other side of the wall. He could hear satisfied moaning along with the regular thumps, his own bed moving ever so slightly. Raines couldn't be so bad if she was running a business that made countless men and women happy.

The door to his room opened and a young man walked in, dark haired with tan skin, his eyes blue and lined with the darkest of lashes. He wore a very see-through black shirt and loose pants. In his hands were two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“Hello. I'm Rennie,” he said with a nervous smile. “Ms. Raines said I should tend to your needs.”

Martouf looked around the room in thought. “My needs?”

Rennie smiled again, with even bright teeth. “Yes. She said to make you...happy.”

Martouf smiled. “That will not be necessary.”

Rennie looked disappointed, but sat down next to Martouf anyway, glasses hanging in one hand, wine in the other. “She won't be pleased if I walk out there without at least getting a smile out of you.”

Martouf smiled. “I would not want that.”

“Well, maybe we could just drink and talk...and stuff,” Rennie said with a shrug.

“Of course,” Martouf said with a polite nod.

Rennie smiled, pleased, and settled the glasses and wine on the bedside table. When he returned to his original place and gave Martouf a tentative smile.

“What do you wish to talk about?” Martouf asked.

“Actually, I heard you talking about this Ba'al,” Rennie said. “I can't understand why someone would leave you for someone else. I wouldn't.”

Martouf ignored the stinging in his eyes that Rodney would identify as his womanly tears of big womanliness. “That is kind of you to say.”

Rennie seemed to shift closer. “Well, I ain't lying. You're not like the other guys and ladies that come here.” He reached up and stroked Martouf's cheek. “You're...nice.”

Martouf stared at the intent gaze in Rennie's eyes, his mouth open slightly, wet and inviting. Martouf leaned forward and suddenly found himself drawing the other man into a kiss, holding him tight and bringing him close. As he pushed Rennie down on the bed, feeling the other man's hands already undoing his pants, Martouf totally forgot about Ba'al for the first time in a long time.

“So, Sumner and Caldwell caved, huh?” Dave said, sounding rather pleased.

“Pretty much, after we showed them how much the city wanted you back,” Rodney said.

“Woman, I knew you'd miss me the most,” Dave said.

“Oh please. I only did it because as a member of SG-15 I have the unique right to call you on your stupid plans and bitch incessantly. Everyone else just isn't as open minded,” Rodney said.

“Not to mention you kind of overlook the whole accidental making out thing,” John said.

“Especially that,” Rodney said.

“Marty miss me?”

“Miss you? I think he built a shrine out of bubble gum in his closet while you were away,” Rodney answered.

“Poor guy. He's probably having a real crappy time with Raines,” Dave said.

“You have a plan for getting him back, Sir?”

“I'd say front door, but there's way too many of them and they got one of my people. I'm thinking it's going to come down to show down in Realto.”

“What? Are you insane?” Rodney snapped.

“Woman, ain't no need to shout in my ear. Look, I figure it's the only way Raines won't play dirty. She'll go by the book because she'll know she has me. After that, it's winner takes all.”

“And what if she shoots a big hole in your head? Granted you don't use the contents much, but I'm thinking it could be a bad thing,” Rodney said.

“Yeah, well, we'll see how it goes,” Dave said grumpily. “Now, shut up and go to sleep. And no frisk while you're both in my bed.”

Dave turned onto his side, presenting his back to Rodney, who sighed and turned to face John in the dark.

John's arm snaked around Rodney's waist as he settled in close to go to sleep.

Rodney shoved his arm away with a snort. “Oh, don't even think about cuddling. You totally screwed that up for yourself.”

Rodney was having that dream again, the one where SG-15 walked through the gate and Rodney had a lethal wound, his shirt covered in blood. People were yelling all around him and John pushed through the crowd, all heroic and handsome, the smallest of smudges of dirt high on his cheek, his appearance otherwise pristine.

Rodney wobbled and startled to fall, only John caught him and lowered him to the floor, holding him tight.

“Don't you die on me, Rodney. Don't you dare,” John whispered.

“Oh, it's okay. We had a good run, didn't we? My only regret is that we had to hide this. It could have been so much better,” Rodney said, hissing in manly pain.

John glared at him with watery eyes. “Hey, it's not over yet.”

Then he kissed Rodney hard and firm and there was music in the gate room and people were clapping. Rodney stared at John. “I can't believe you did that.”

“Screw everyone else. You're the center of my universe,” John said with a nod, kind of sounding like Keanu Reeves.

Rodney grinned, looking up to see Dave smiling and standing next to a huge cigar and Martouf standing next to Ba'al, while Elizabeth stood with a big smile and blue hair.

“I think we're going to be fine,” Rodney said and smiled.

Rodney smiled and closed his eyes tight, huddling under the blanket and letting the strong arms wrap around him, a mouth mumbling something into his neck.

Rodney sighed. “Hey.”

“Hey,” John said, sounding amused and without moving his lips from the back of Rodney's neck.

Rodney frowned and opened his eyes to see John standing by the bed, looking down with a smile. Then Rodney looked down at the muscled arms around his waist.

“I will burn your house down, mister,” Dave was muttering into Rodney's neck.

Rodney struggled in the tight grip of the arms. “Oh my god! You crazy lunatic! Get off me!”

Dave's grip loosened and he turned onto his back as Rodney jumped off the bed and stumbled into John.

Dave frowned and blinked up at the two men. “What's all the noise?”

“The noise? The noise is you groping me in your sleep!” Rodney said, pointing an accusing finger at Dave.

Dave snorted. “What are you talking about, woman? I ain't done no such thing.”

“Sorry, sir, I'm afraid you kind of made out with Rodney while you were sleeping.”

Rodney glared at John. “We are so never having sex again.”

John shrugged. “You mean like we didn't have sex last night? I'll try not to lose any sleep over it.”

Rodney folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at John. “Oh, I see. The chaps come on and the attitude comes out. Typical.”

John raised his brow before putting on his black hat and pulling the tip of it at Rodney, followed by a wink. “You have a good day now, y'hear?”

Rodney rolled his eyes as John sauntered away slowly, pulling his gun from his holster, spinning it in his hand and pointing it at an invisible enemy.

Rodney watched and sighed with a shake of his head. “So hot. So, very, very hot.”

The pizza parlor opened early, the folk of Realto looking oddly out of place in their earthy colors, sitting at tables with red and white checkered tablecloths, while a small band played at the far end, singing the tale of a man that had a girl and a job and lost everything, working in a car wash where all it did was rain.

Rodney ate his pizza and shook his head. “A week. He's been here a week and he's got the locals singing Bruce Springsteen. How is this all possible?”

John shrugged and picked an olive off his pizza, throwing it up in the air and catching it in his mouth. “Maybe time moves slower here.”

Rodney stared at John. “Huh. I never thought of that.”

“Of course, Dave's got the whole crazy thing going on for him,” John added.

Rodney nodded. “There is that too.”

Their conversation was interrupted by woman joining them at their table. She pulled down her bandanna from her face and smiled, her blue eyes sulky and her blonde hair bright under the hat. She tipped her hat at John and John nodded back, just as sulky much to Rodney's chagrin.

“Howdy,” she said. “Name's Rosalinde.”

“Howdy,” John said.

“And in English we say hello,” Rodney added.

“You're new. I ain't seen you in these parts before. And I definitely ain't seen you at the cat house,” Rosalinde said.

John nodded. “No, you haven't. You see, we're respectable types.”

Rosalinde grinned. “Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?”

John smiled. “Just fine, thanks.”

“What's your name?” Rosalinde asked, leaning in closer.

John seemed to be thinking it over and Rodney knew they were about to enter a whole new level of stupid. “Um...Eastwood. Clint Eastwood. This is my friend, Doc.”

Rosalinde turned her attention to Rodney. “You're a doctor?”

“Well-”

“See, I got this problem. Maybe you could look at it,” Rosalinde said.

Before Rodney could object to playing doctor, Rosalinde had effortlessly flipped open the top two buttons of her shirt to reveal the curvaceous flesh underneath.

“See, it kind of hurts, right here,” she said, laying her hand across her chest. “Want to take a look?”

John's hand went out to take a look, which Rodney grabbed by the fingers, pulled over the candle in the middle of the table, smacking it down and putting the flame out.

John grimaced and glared, while Rodney smiled at Rosalinde. “Could you excuse us a second? Clint? A moment please?”

Rodney got up and headed up the stairs into Dave's living room/kitchen/bedroom/library and swiftly turned around in the middle to face John, giving him a hard look. "I thought we decided you were gay,"

"No, you decided I was gay. I said I was pansexual," John said, folding his arms across his chest and making Rodney want to knock his stupid hat off.

"How convenient for you. Any excuse to grab the breasts of strange women."

John looked offended, his arms dropping to his sides. "Well, if you'd let me grab yours I wouldn't have to."

Rodney opened his mouth in a silent gasp. "And like I said last night, my kinks do not involve having sex with you while Dave's having his psycho dreams right next to us. We're not all mentally unhinged exhibitionists like you."

"And we're not all ninety year old prudes like you," John said, stepping in close.

"Hey! Maude and Claude! Leave the bickering for couple's therapy," Dave said, walking over to his desk and picking up his modified rifle.

"We would, but someone here, who is not me, is still unfortunately too heterosexual to believe in therapy," Rodney said.

"Woman, do not make me come on over there," Dave said, pointing his gun between Rodney and John.

Rodney and John gave each other pissy and petty glares before looking away.

Dave walked towards them with his gun, while putting on his hat. “Okay, I'm gonna go check things out. See if we can get Martouf out without compromising my manly integrity. You two stay here. There's ammunition near the oven.”

“Because that's obviously the smartest place to keep it,” Rodney said flatly.

They followed Dave down the stairs, back into the pizza parlor, where the grisly sounding band played on.

Dave was still checking his ammo, John and Rodney joining him at his side when the saloon doors of the barn swung open and four women walked in.

The band stopped playing and a hush fell over the pizza parlor.

The woman in black walked in first, the other three shadowing her. She walked slowly, the long coat flapping behind her and her boots sounding hard on the wooden floor. She leaned to one side and tapped her right toe against the back of her left boot, spinning the silver spur and smiling at Dave.

“Raines,” Dave said, stepping forward.

“Oh my god, she's pretty hot,” Rodney whispered, earning a glare for John.

“Dixon,” Raines said quietly. “Like my hair? I just had it done down at the salon.”

Dave nodded. “That a gray tint you got there?”

Raines nodded back. “It's the thing to have, apparently.”

“Suits you,” Dave said.

Raines pulled her gun from her holster slowly, making a show of looking it over.

“What's your business here, Raines?” Dave asked, making a show of locking the barrel of his gun into place.

Raines smiled serenely. “I got one of your girls. Pretty little thing he is.”

“Don't talk in circles, mister. You tell me what you want,” Dave said.

“I want what's owed to me, woman,” Raines said, her voice low. “We got debts that ain't been settled. You meet me on the strand and draw guns like civilized folk and I'll give you your friend back.”

“And if I refuse?” Dave asked calmly.

The words had barely left his mouth and the Cleef sisters had stepped close behind Raines, drawing their guns and pointing them at Dave, John and Rodney.

Raines smiled and shrugged. “I guess I'll have to think of something in that case. The strand. Tonight. Five on the clock.”

“Five? Not high noon?” Rodney asked.

Raines frowned. “During the lunch hour? What are you, crazy or something?”

“What about our friend?” John asked.

“You get him back once we've done our thing. Dixon knows the rules. Ain't that right?” Raines asked.

“I know the rules all right, mister,” Dave said. “Five on the strand.”

Raines smiled and nodded. “Well, now. We got ourselves a little deal. Five on the clock it is then. I'll see you there.” She started to turn to leave, and then stopped, looking at John. “Nice hat.”

John frowned. “Thanks.”

Raines and the Cleef sisters left as quickly as they'd come, the room collectively sighing with relief at their departure.

Dave sighed, staring at the swinging doors. “I think we've got ourselves a situation.”

Rennie stretched out over Martouf and smiled, laying a kiss on the other man's jaw. “I'll be sad when you're gone, Martouf.”

Martouf smiled. “I am sure you will find a way to console yourself.”

Rennie wrapped himself around Martouf and Martouf gave him a light stroke down the back, wondering when this torture would end and he'd be able to join his team again.

“Ms. Raines says that Dixon's a friend of yours,” Rennie murmured into Martouf's chest.

Martouf nodded. “Indeed he is.”

“I hear he's a fine figure of a man,” Rennie said. “Tall. Strong. Wise.”

Martouf smiled. “He is all those things. He is also gentle. Thoughtful. Kind....Fragrant.”

“Ain't nobody ever refused to work for Ms. Raines before. It's considered an honor and a privilege. When he said no, we couldn't believe it.”

“He is a complicated man.”

“Some of us had never even thought of leaving before he came along and now there's whisperings about going to other towns and finding different work,” Rennie said. “Ms. Raines feels mighty spurned.”

“I can imagine. But, things change. People must learn to change too,” Martouf said.

Rennie looked up and frowned at Martouf. “Yeah. You're right. Change. It's a good thing.”

Martouf thought about it. Yes, change was a good thing. He couldn't keep hating Ba'al and pining after Dave. Things had to change.

He looked down at Rennie's thoughtful face. “Would you like to make love again?”

Rennie grinned. “Ain't nobody ever called it that before, but yeah, sure.”

Martouf smiled happily and kissed Rennie.

John and Rodney sat on the end of the bed as Dave paced back and forth, muttering unintelligible things to himself.

“The problem with him is, you can never tell if he's normal crazy or new crazy,” Rodney whispered to John.

John frowned at Dave with worry. “What can I say? The guy's got layers.”

“Being ten shades of insane doesn't count as layers,” Rodney explained.

John shrugged. “He's a complicated guy.”

“Yeah, well, be that as it may, if he starts singing Wayfaring Stranger, I'm leaving.”

Dave turned and pointed at the two men. “I got a plan.”

Rodney got up to leave, John grabbing his hand and pulling him back down while he smiled at Dave. “Cool.”

Raines checked the barrel of her gun by rolling it across the back of her arm and then slapped it shut in the palm of her hand. She placed the gun in her holster and spun around to look in the full length mirror, flicking her hair back and smiling. “Well, hello there, mister.”

The Cleef sisters appeared in the room together and Raines turned her back on the mirror to look at them.

“You wanted something, Ms. Raines?” Red asked.

Raines picked up her coat from the stand and put it on. “Yeah. Dixon's gonna be planning an ambush. You're gonna make sure it ain't happening, y'hear?”

Red nodded as her sisters smiled. “Whatever you say, Ms. Raines.

Raines nodded. “Good. You get, now. I got me a prize to win.”

“This is such a stupid plan, seriously. You've really outdone yourself, Dave,” Rodney complained into his headset.

“Woman, I will beat your ass blue if you don't quit your yammering,” Dave replied.

“I hardly think that's possible since you and Raines are about to shoot each other in the head,” Rodney said with a roll of the eyes.

“Rodney, just keep your eye on the damn target,” John said.

Rodney snorted and held fast to the huge gun Dave had given him. It was pretty impressive if he thought about it, modified to shoot the fly off a horse's nose from a mile away. He was going to enjoy shooting off an inch of Raines' hair for her obvious drooling over John. Then he'd use it to put a hole in John's hat too.

The click by Rodney's ear told him he'd probably be using it for nothing.

John hid behind the balcony of the local cake shop, keeping his eye on the strand with its women on horses and men in their respectable and neat clothes, except for the workers of the cat house who looked a little more ruffled and mischievous.

He had a good view from here and could probably fire off a pretty accurate warning shot and why was Rodney not talking in his ear anymore?

John spun around, realizing the plan had already failed but flew straight into the butt of a rifle and landed hard on his back, his hat flying off his head and the balcony.

The strand was brimming with people; everyone liked a good gun fight. The occupants of the cat house stood in their saucy finery of gauzy shirts and leathers, eyes lined dark to be alluring, while the respectables stood on the other side, noses turned up as they stood with their high-society women (who were eying the whores).

There were also the low life members of Realto, loitering on their horses and making eyes at the respectables, making eyes at the whores. Making eyes at anything that had eyes.

Dave Dixon rode into town, expecting to see this spectacle. He already knew the plan was a bust since Rodney was no longer complaining in his ear and John was no longer telling Rodney to shut up.

Dave stopped at one end of the strand, swung his leg over and sliding off the horse in one fluid movement. He re-adjusted his hat and pushed back his coat, keeping his hands near his hips.

Raines appeared at the other end of the strand, climbing off her horse and taking up a position opposite, eyes hooded by what looked like John's hat.

The Cleef sisters walked out of the saloon, holding John and Rodney at gunpoint, John sporting a bright line of blood down one side of his face and Rodney sporting a dark bruise on his cheek.

“Raines! You let my people go first!” Dave shouted.

Raines looked at the Cleef sisters and nodded. One of them disappeared into the saloon and brought out Martouf, the only one wearing an Atlantis uniform. He was shoved between John and Rodney, as he smiled weakly at Dave.

“You all right, Marty?” Dave asked.

Martouf nodded.

The Cleef sisters pushed the three men away and walked off to stand by the saloon window. Dave watched his guys glare at the Cleefs and take up a position on the steps of the saloon, unarmed and unable to do anything but watch.

Dave straightened himself up and looked at Raines. “Let's do this then.”

Raines smiled. “Anytime you're ready, Dixon.”

Dave took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“I can't believe we're watching this,” Rodney said in a hushed tone.

“Raines did not say she was going to do this,” Martouf said, eyes fixed on Dave.

“Raines said she'd let you go if Dave agreed to a shoot out,” John said.

Martouf stared, mouth hanging open. Raines took her step forward and the clock said it was almost five.

Martouf darted off the step. “No, wait!”

Martouf was quickly grabbed and pushed to his knees and when Rodney and John went to help they were similarly grabbed and held back, arms twisted behind them.

Dave either didn't notice or pretended not to because his eyes were fixed on Raines, fingers flexing over his guns.

Raines similarly stood there, fingers slowly moving over her guns, coat billowing backwards.

The clock bell rang out once. The strand went silent, even the breeze coming in whispers.

The second bell rang and drifts of sand blew across the strand, making Raines and Dave squint at each other.

The third bell rang and John pushed hard against the numerous hands holding him back, Martouf struggling in front of him and Rodney staring with wide eyes.

The fourth bell rang and Raine's hat flew off her head, whipping her hair backwards, her eyes never wavering from Dave.

The fifth bell rang and Dave blinked.

Then silence and stillness.

And as if the whole world had slowed down, Dave's hand moved towards his gun like through glue, pulling it out and aiming straight for Raines, but the gun flew from his hand as a shot rang out before he could even fire. Blood exploded at his shoulder and he grimaced, falling to the ground as the crowd gasped.

Dave lay on the ground, breathing hard as Raines slowly walked down the strand towards him. When he turned over and looked up at her it was with a look of determination.

“What the hell does this mean?” Rodney whispered to John.

John shook his head. “I don't know.”

“I drew blood, Dixon. I do believe that means I won the fight,” Raines said, her gun pointed at Dave's head.

Dave nodded. “I figure you're right about that.”

Raines smiled. “My prize?”

Dave slowly got to his feet, wavering slightly and covering the bullet wound with his hand. “You won fair and square.”

“That is true,” Raines said nodding. “But I almost feel bad for soiling a respectable. How will you show your face here again?”

Dave shrugged. “I figure it's time I got going anyway.”

Raines smiled. “Crying shame.”

“You do what you gotta do, mister. Don't long this out more than you have to,” Dave said stiffly.

Raines shoved her gun into her holster and then pulled off her gloves, throwing them over her shoulder. “Time was, there weren't no price high enough even for the whores for what you're about to give away.”

“Times change,” Dave said.

“They sure do,” Raines said and grabbed Dave by the front of his T-shirt, pulling him down towards her before she kissed him.

A gasp went up through the crowd as she stroked the side of his face, kissing him slow and gentle and pulling away with his bottom lip releasing from her mouth last.

The Cleef sisters laughed behind John, one of them remarking, “So much for respectable folk.”

Rodney frowned. “What the hell just happened here?”

“I'm not sure,” John said, “But I think we just lucked out.”

Raines stepped back from Dixon. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

“We're through here, mister,” Dave said before looking at his men. “We're going home.”

Raines turned to watch him go as he walked past her. “I'm glad you turned down the opportunity to join the Raines family.”

Dave turned to look at Raines. “You are?”

Raines smirked at him. “Sure. I can't be kissing people that work for me. It ain't the done thing.”

Dave frowned, watching Raines walking away and joining her flunkies. He turned to his men and gestured with his head towards the great big gate at the end of Realto. It was time to go home.

“I am sorry you had to dishonor yourself to save me,” Martouf said as he walked at Dave's side, John and Rodney behind them.

“Oh please! All he had to do was kiss her. We thought someone was going to die,” Rodney said.

“Hey, it's more complicated than that, Miss Whiny Pants,” Dave said. “Them people got rules. You don't go around kissing whores from a cat house if you're respectable folk and I got tongue from the head of the whole gang.”

“That sentence is wrong on so many levels, I can't even begin to tell you,” Rodney answered.

“So, basically, you can't show your face in Realto again,” John said.

“That's about it. Not unless I want to be hearing people call me a big man whore. Which I don't,” Dave said, with a tone of warning.

“Don't worry,” Rodney said. “As long as your brain keeps functioning at its present level, man whore is the last thing we'll be calling you.”

Night time on Atlantis and the day shift had changed into civvies to enjoy what was left of the evening, once again not bothering to be as discreet as they could have been.

Elizabeth Weir stood under her shower, smiling and sighing happily as arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

“I'm serious,” Lorne said. “Caldwell and Sumner both have a thing for you. I have video evidence.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Where would you get video evidence?”

Lorne wondered if he should prove McKay right and be the big mouth. He shrugged instead. “I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.”

Outside Elizabeth's quarters, Teyla and Katie Brown walked past, heading towards the south pier for a night out.

“You found a replacement for Martouf?” Katie asked.

Teyla sighed. “He is a hard woman to replace. I am not sure I even want anyone else. Maybe Colonel Dixon will let us borrow him now and then.”

Katie looked hopeful. “That would be great.”

While they made their way, Stackhouse and Markham were already at the pier, playing two on two basketball against Ford and Cadman. Markham shot past Ford, threw the ball and scored. He turned and grinned, high-fiving Stackhouse before they both fell into a heated kiss.

Ford rolled his eyes and shook his head as Cadman grinned and said something along the lines of, “Awe...that is totally hot.”

“Way to be discreet guys,” Ford said, throwing the ball at Markham's head.

Not far from the pier, Sumner crossed a walkway and observed the exchange below. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. So much for his argument with Caldwell that Pegasus was not a reject bin for personnel the government literally wanted off the planet.

Sumner figured it was time to adopt the Romans' way of life, now that he was in Rome, and headed to find the top secret Marine bootleg operation, completely surprised when he ran into Caldwell, some Marines, Zelenka and a bunch of scientists playing poker. They were more than happy to deal him in. He didn't even register Sheppard and McKay looking shifty as they disappeared down the end of a corridor with a bottle of booze.

Not that John and Rodney had noticed Sumner they were in such a hurry to get back to Rodney's quarters where they didn't even make it to their third drink before landing on the bed in a flurry of clothes being thrown off and whispered and quietly laughed all the way through kisses until Rodney was groaning into a pillow, John gasping into his neck, until Rodney came so hard he elbowed John in the face, exactly where the new stitches were, helping them open right up as John flew off the bed and landed on the floor.

As John and Rodney headed to the infirmary, Dave stood leaning against a balcony that belonged to the mess hall, one arm in a sling, Martouf next to him as they both watched the dark sea, reflecting back the lights of the city.

"Do you feel that perhaps I have lingered on the issue of Ba'al too long?" Martouf asked quietly.

"Nah. You're all right. Besides, we all got our own healing time."

"Nevertheless, I feel it may be the time to move on. To stop thinking of...him."

Dave looked at Martouf with a frown. "Yeah? Well, good for you, big guy."

Martouf nodded and went back to staring at the dark waves, looking as though the stars above were glittering from underneath the water. It reminded him of some of Ba'al's more ridiculous robes.

"Was it wrong of me to love someone so evil?"

“Well, yeah, but then, ain't no helping who you love."

Martouf looked at Dave long and hard, the other man oblivious and staring out at the sea. "What about loving someone that does not love you in the same way? What do you do then?"

"Ain't nothing you can do. It's just one of those things, like losing your socks in the laundry."

"Have you ever loved someone that did not love you?" Martouf asked quietly.

"Sure. I had a girl. Broke my heart like a water melon. Everyone said I kinda went crazy when she walked out on me, I don't see it myself, but I never really did get over her," Dave said with a nod. “Yep. She broke it real good.”

"Perhaps we should move on. Perhaps it is time to see other possibilities. There is nothing to be gained from loving someone that does not even know how you feel," Martouf said, withholding a sigh.

Dave straightened up, hand rummaging through his pocket. "Why the hell not? Ain't nothing wrong with it. You ain't hurting nobody. It's real, from the heart, pure like, and you ain't getting nothing back besides a whole lot of hurt," he said, sticking a cigar in his mouth and lighting it. "I say, let every man have his Dulcinea. No, sir, ain't nothing wrong with it at all."

Martouf stared, nodding slowly and then smiling. “You are a good man, Dave Dixon.”

Dave turned to look at Martouf, smiling around his cigar. He reached into his pocket and pulled out another one, lighting it before he handed it to Martouf.

Martouf smiled at the cigar and then put it in his mouth. It tasted foul and he hated the smell, but it was okay because Dave was back, SG-15 was back and Atlantis looked pretty tonight.

It was okay because things were finally back to normal.

- the end -