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Stargate: Atlantis is the property of MGM. All characters and images remain the property of the original copyright holder. No infringement is intended. No revenue is being obtained from copyright material.

A.N: The Wraith word, spoken by Todd has an 'mh' digraph that should be pronounced as a v sound, such as in the word haven.

Act 3

The viewing screen in front of Vega dripped with Wraith characters beside the visual of the bridge of the other Hive ship. She could not help but wonder what was running through the minds of the bridge crew on the other ship as they looked on the display the Elder Queen had made – formal in the demand for fealty of the lesser Wraith. She imagined it must be an imposing sight – as imposing as it was terrifying to her.

Vega stood with her eyes downcast, though she looked on through lowered lashes, as the proceedings continued. It was a show of strength for the Hive with which they were now meeting.

The Queen stood in the centre of the bridge, back straight, her braids carefully arranged to complement the Wraith characters that peaked out from beneath her bodice. Behind and to her right, the Hive Commander stood, as straight backed as she, and with Hanna in front of him, his feeding hand resting lightly on the handmaiden's chest, a show of dominance both over the Hive he Commanded, and the Human worlds his Hive culled and commanded.

Vega glanced sideways at Hanna. The other woman stood motionless, and even across the distance between them Vega could see that she was tense, as though standing before her commander was a great effort to her. Vega did not miss the many new bruises and bites that were clearly visible around the woman's neck and shoulders and she wanted to feel sorry for her, but in light of everything that had happened of late, in light of Hanna's apparently growing resentment toward her – a bitterness that was becoming almost threatening – she found it hard. The other woman hadn't a kind word to say to her of late, ever since the incident in the Lower Station in fact.

Thoughts of the Lower Station reminded Vega all to well of the Wraith that stood behind her in an attitude that matched that of the Commander. The Hive Second barely touched her, and yet she felt the burn of his hand at her chest, all too aware that he could at any moment flatten his hand against her chest and attempt to feed and she knew all too well what would happen if that came to pass. That in itself was disturbing enough, but more so was the fact that she could feel an additional tension on the Hive Second, as though he too had just as much difficulty remaining in an apparent state of calm, as did she. It crossed her mind to ask Todd about it, about the sudden attentions that the other Wraith were affording her – unwelcome and more so in the last few days.

"…is unacceptable," the Queen snapped, and Vega realised she had missed much of the dialogue between the Elder Queen and the Queen of the other Hive. "And it cannot be allowed to continue."

"That is as may be," the other Queen snapped, "but what would you have me do. I have the survival of my Hive to consider. Would you have me allow them to starve?"

"Accept me as your Primary," the Elder Queen began as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, "bring those Hives with whom you share an alliance to a meeting place of my choosing, and I will give you the coordinates of a world you may subdue as your own."

"Swear fealty?" the other Queen oozed sarcasm and distaste as she let out the exclamation.

"Or be the cause of the destruction of your Hive, and its alliance, yes," the Elder Queen said, matter of fact.

Vega shivered, feeling the welling of the Queen's triumphant emotions inside of her, feeling herself sickened by them, afraid. In a sudden and deep flaring of panic she wanted to run from the bridge, find Todd and, if she had to, beg for him to take her to his Hive with him when next he travelled there. Anywhere…

She almost screamed as the Hive Second drew her closer to him. Only the press of his mind against hers caught the sound before she could disturb the Queen with it.

Almost at the edge of his senses, the Second fought for control as the tips of his finger guards pressed against the Handmaiden's flesh beneath his feeding hand, drawing her back against the hardened muscles of his belly. His mind clamped around hers and the distressed sound that he had stifled.

Hissing a long, slow breath he returned his attention to the view screen and the face of the other Hive's Queen. She was clearly in turmoil. On the one hand, the Elder Queen had appeared from nowhere, demanding fealty for the right to farm some, no doubt, distant world, with nothing but her words, and the display they made for them to back up the demands. On the other, however, the other Hive's commander, if he were worth the honour of the title, would easily have detected that the Elder Hive had her weapons already powered up – ready to strike in a moment's notice.

It was a situation in which no commander ever wished to find himself – standing behind a Queen under such circumstances, when instinct said fight or flee, but the Queen would likely give another order entirely.

Without real effort, he widened his contact with the mental chatter surrounding him, into the regulatory whispers that came from the other Hive.

{stand down} {down} {down} {down} {down}

Finding the mind of the other commander, he growled softly as he pushed the mental influence on him. As much as he did not wish to further the Elder Queen's insane expectations, especially with the situation aboard the Elder Hive becoming almost intolerable, it would not do for them to risk becoming victims of some unnecessary fire fight. He felt the Human in front of him stiffen and try to pull away as his growled breath ran through the contact between them, but held her firmly.

"Kindly instruct your Commander not to interfere with the operation of my Hive," the other Queen snapped to the Elder.

The Second held his face impassive as the Elder Queen glanced at the Hive Commander, a deep scowl on his face.

"My Queen—" he began, but she had already turned toward the screen again.

"Were you to obey," she said coldly, "My commander would not need to impose my will on your Hive."

The other Queen was clearly caught off guard by the Elder Queen's response, and for a moment floundered. The Second could feel her doubt echo like a ripple through the otherwise controlled mind of her Hive.

"Very well," she finally conceded, after a brief whispered message from her commander. "I will comply with your request. Transmit the coordinates of your meeting place – however…"

The Second could not help but be amused as the posturing between the Queens continued.

"… to bring those in my alliance… they will not be easily persuaded to a rendezvous that would leave their Hives vulnerable." The other Hive's Queen fixed the Elder with an angry stare. "They, as I, require surety."

"How dare you suggest—"

"I dare nothing more than you would yourself, in defence of your Hive," the other Queen snapped. "How dare you suggest I would do anything less!"

A movement in the doorway to the bridge momentarily caught the Hive Second's attention, and he turned his head enough to see, from the corner of his eye, the drones that entered, dragging with them the bruised and bloodied form of the former Wraith Scientist, and the hybrid creature from the other scientist's laboratory.

He could not help but chuckle at the Elder Queen's folly. Showing her hand so soon in the proceedings was a gamble. If this one's alliance were strong enough she might simply gather with her sister Hives and make an attempt to destroy the Elder Hive, and their 'Abomination' with it.

That thought ended the chuckle almost as soon as it had begun, and the Second returned his full attention to the argument between the two Queens.

Vega gasped as she set eyes on Michael. It had been a long time since last she had seen him and he did not look at all well, and in spite of all that he had done, all of the things for which he was responsible since his transformation at the hands of the people from earth, she felt her heart moved toward compassion. He raised his head to look at her, and she thought, for just a moment, that she saw him shake his head, before the effort of holding it up obviously became to great and he let it slump forward once more.

Behind her, the Hive Second's body stiffened, and the hard finger guards once more dug in painfully against her chest. She could not contain the slight whimper that came from her in that instant.

"With both of us bringing those with whom we share alliances to the meeting," the Elder Queen questioned haughtily, "do you really believe that I would make an attempt on the lives of those in yours. It would be folly."

"Neither yours, nor my own, are the only alliances that exist among the remaining Queens, nor are we the only ones capable of such destruction." The other Hive's Queen wasn't giving up, and Vega could feel the Elder Queen's anger rising. It made her feel even more uncomfortable than she already was, as if countless tiny insects were biting at her insides.

"You need not fear The Abomination or his army of creatures!" the Elder Queen snarled, and with a wave of her hand toward the drones, she summoned them to bring Michael into the space beside her; force him to his knees – though with the way he could barely keep his feet, Vega thought there was little forcing necessary.

The other Queen's guard slipped, and she allowed surprise to register in her face for just a moment before she hardened her expression again. Vega suddenly felt that it was almost as if it were a game to these two, and somehow that chilled her more than if she'd thought they both were serious.

"And what of the Lanteans?" the other Queen said when she had regained her composure.

Vega felt suddenly sick, and couldn't help but glance toward Michael and his hybrid once more, as if she could by her very desperation will them to be silent.

"The Lanteans possess a single battle ship," the Elder Queen said with contempt. "I do not think that even they would be arrogant enough to attempt such an attack."

Vega almost fainted with relief when the other Queen, growling softly, all her objections obviously met and countered, said, "Very well. Transmit the coordinates. We will attend."

Todd lifted his head slightly as he sensed, more than heard, the light footsteps approaching the laboratory. Shutting down the computer assisted microscope, he turned just as she stepped into the room.

"Todd—" she started softly, but his answering growl cut off anything she had been going to say. He breathed in deeply and all around her could sense the essence of another Wraith, whose presence lingered over her like a soiled blanket.

"Who has been with you, Alicia!" he demanded, unable to keep the angry tone from his voice as he advanced toward her.

She backed away from him as quickly as she could, colliding with the bulkhead almost in the same moment that he reached her and leaned down to her, breathing in again.

"Todd, don't. I—!" She brought up a hand to fend him off, pressing against his shoulder. A futile gesture, he simply continued to lean down, inhaling deeply of the usurper's scent.

"He is all over you!" Todd snarled, the many tones in his voice merging to a single angry growl.

Again she tried to fend him off, her hand pressing against him, he could feel the desperation in the contact, however the gesture angered him still further, and grabbing her wrist in an uncompromising grasp he slammed it back against the bulkhead wall.

The pain as the back of her hand hit the wall broke what was left of Vega's self control. She cried out, wordlessly, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Who has touched you?" Todd continued harsh in the triple tones that pushed against her, threatened to suffocate. "What Wraith!"

"Todd," she cried his name. "You're hurting me. Please let go!"

"Tell me!" he demanded.

"I haven't done anything… nothing wrong, please," she stammered. "The Queen… there was a meeting… she had us stand… and in the worshippers' quarters, a fight… the Hive Second…"

As she stumbled over her explanation, desperately trying to figure out what it was he wanted to know; what he could sense; smell on her, the tears in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks and she began to sob through the fear and shock that Todd could turn on her this way, in spite of his repeated warnings to remember who it was – what it was – with which she dealt.

The sound cut through him, as though she had plunged a dagger into his chest, and all the anger drained through the wound. She was weeping, and he was the cause and under it, instinct evaporated.

Becoming lamb, though with no less strength than the lion he had just been, he drew her away from the bulkhead, against his chest and closed his arms around behind her, holding her almost tenderly.

She was stiff in his embrace, and he could not fault her for that as he could feel her fear at his treatment of her; her terror at his anger.

"Ah," he purred softly, "my little Alicia, you mistake me. My anger is not for you, but for those who may have harmed you."

"You… hurt me," she hiccupped.

Todd carefully ran his fingers down the length of her arm, to find her wrist, brushing the tips of his fingers over her skin and as she winced, he carefully lifted the hand to meet the press of his lips.

Vega tugged on her hand as he kissed the back of it, and her wrist where he had held her in the ferocity of his anger… trying to banish the breathlessness that grasped her at his kisses. He did not stop her from drawing her hand away, but neither did he let go of her at all.

She looked up at him, "Please tell me you're not going away again."

She felt him sigh, and she pulled out of his arms, and started to walk away, closing her eyes as she stopped beside the workbench as he said, "You must understand, my Alicia, I cannot leave my own Hive without its commander for too long."

"Then take me with you," she told him.

She sighed softly, and leaned against him as he came behind her and took hold of her shoulders.

"I cannot simply remove you from the Queen's service," he told her softly, caressing her neck with the tips of his fingers.

"But you said…" she looked up at him, and then turned in his arms, her stomach knotting in little swirls of excitement at his closeness, "you said it wasn't unheard of for a commander to ask for the company of his concubine if he had to go away."

"And you are correct," he told her, drawing her closer, "however, I cannot approach the Queen with this, Alicia."

She wriggled away from him again, her tears returning, though she tried to push them away with a bubbling anger the hurt had kindled.

"So instead you tell me to stick with the Queen, ask the Second for help if there's trouble, and yet when he has helped, you pin me to the wall, and start talking like some—"

"Tell me, little one," he purred, and she jumped as his hands closed around her arms, again turning her to face him. He crooked his finger under her chin and brought her eyes up to meet with his. "What happened that you had need to approach the Hive Second for assistance?"

For just a moment she considered not telling him anything, but she could read him well enough to notice the spark of anger still bubbling under the surface of his newfound calm.

"It wasn't so much a case of me approaching him, more like he pulled me out of the middle of an ugly situation," she said softly, unhappily as she remembered. "I was near to where the worshippers have their quarters and—"

"What were you doing there!" he all but roared, causing her to take another step back, pulling out of his arms again.

"You weren’t here," she accused. "Hanna was busy but she needed something, so she asked if I'd go to fetch it. I didn't see the harm in—"

"No, of course you didn't," Todd purred softly again, and walked past her until he could sit on the side of the cot, where he held out his hand to her and invited softly, "Come. Sit. Tell me."

Vega shook her head, "You'll only snap at me again."

"No, my little Alicia, I promise you," he sighed, "I was only angry through concern for you. The Lower Station is a dangerous place at the best of times and I can probably surmise that this is not the best of times."

Alicia allowed her reluctant steps to carry her toward the cot, before she slipped her hand into his outstretched palm. She felt the strength that she had missed flowing into her from the contact and sat down beside him, closer than she had intended, and did not fight when he drew her back into his arms.

"Not the best of times at all… at least not for Isla," she whispered, closing her eyes against unexpected tears.

"Isla?" Todd echoed. "Perhaps you should begin at the beginning."

"Hanna asked me to get something for her, but I never made it to the worshippers, you know, to where they live. On the way I heard crying, and I found Isla… a woman, fairly young I'd say. She was in the middle of a miscarriage, Todd, I couldn't just leave her."

"These things happen, Alicia," he said softly, and from the look on his face Vega could tell that he was trying to sympathise.

"I suppose you see these kinds of things all the time," she said, not without a little petulance in her voice. "She did say that it was her master's feeding that had caused it."

"Not… all the time," Todd said, "but on occasion it has been known that a Wraith will unwittingly give the gift to one of his female worshippers with child. An unfortunate side effect of the process causes a Human foetus to spontaneously abort due to the sudden concentration of Wraith enzymes passing through the link between mother and child."

Alicia shook her head, feeling slightly sick. She hadn't needed to know the details, and in any case that wasn't what she'd said. "No, Todd, this woman said her master's feeding."

Todd tilted his head, his voice almost sing song as he told her, "It is unusual for a Wraith to feed on a female worshipper." But he waved a hand, urging her to go on.

"I went to get help for her, but the men I met were not so friendly and certainly not helpful," she glossed over her time in the Lower Station, chilled by the attitude she had received from everyone there. "It was as though no one wanted to know."

"Likely none did," Todd said, his voice soft, and she realised that what she was describing was as normal to him as it was to her to want to help.

"I'm sorry, just…" she turned enough in his arms that she could see his face. "It's not natural to me. I don't mean to judge but—"

"But you have anyway," he told her without reproach in his voice; a simple statement of fact. "I told you the Lower Station is a dangerous place. The worshippers know only that they either please their Wraith masters or they do not, and if they do not, then it is unlikely that their lives would be long enough to regret their actions. It is their place to be unseen and unheard unless they are spoken to, and since one worshipper can turn on another if they believe it to be to their benefit; to gain the favour of Wraith, worshippers rarely help each other."

"So I discovered," Alicia said, looking up into his eyes, "but she was hurting. She needed some help so—"

She broke off, biting her lip, remembering full well that she had most likely overstepped the bounds of her position when she had brought the Queen into the matter.

Todd narrowed his eyes as he watched Alicia take her lip between her teeth again, knowing that something of her own doing must have escalated the situation if the Hive Second had become involved, and this other human, this Isla… he decided he needed to know more about that one if he were to fully understand.

"What did you do?" he purred, almost a sigh.

Alicia spoke all in a rush, her words running into one another. "I told them the Queen would be unhappy if her servant and the future servant she carried died due to their lack of vigilance."

For a moment Todd could not believe he had heard the words that she had just spoken, but when he looked on the earnest expression on her face, the worried spark within her eyes, he knew he had not been mistaken. He put back his head, and laughed.

"It isn't funny," Alicia snapped, pulling away with a hurt expression on her face.

"Oh, Alicia, I laugh not at you but with you," he told her softly, and reached to run the back of his feeding hand down her cheek in a gentle expression of concern. "Would that I had been there to see the expressions on their faces."

"They weren't happy," she told him, the petulance in her expression softening at his touch as she began to lean in to the caress.

"I would imagine not," he said. "And this was where the trouble started?"

She shook her head against the touch of his hand. "One of the men came back with me, but I think Isla must have been half mad with the pain or something, because she attacked him with some kind of knife. Then the other one showed up with a mob, and it got a little bit out of hand, especially when a Wraith tried to break up the fight."

"The Hive Second?"

"No, another Wraith first of all, but no one took any notice of him. That was when the Hive Second showed up," she said. "And he just waded in and broke it right up. Pushed me against a wall and held me there."

Alicia shivered, and the look of distress that flew across her face caused a knot to settle in his belly. He drew her back into his arms, closing them around her. Aside from her distress he did not like the fact that the Second had gotten himself involved in a worshippers' brawl, nor, apparently, singled out Alicia to pull out of the midst of it.

"And then?" he pushed gently, tucking her beneath his chin.

"And then nothing," she said. "I was terrified, Todd, I thought he was going to try and feed on me, but he just held me there, trying to stop me from struggling until he'd got everything under control. Then he ordered they take Isla to his quarters, and he all but dragged me here like some errant child. Told me to stay here and wait for you."

Todd growled softly, his suspicions growing. As gently as he could he said, "Obviously you didn't."

"Well no, the Queen sent for me, and… on the bridge just now I had to stand with him in that… that stupid display of strength or… whatever the hell she was trying to do."

"Have a care, Alicia," Todd growled.

"Why?" she asked from under his chin, "you don't give a damn about what I say about the Queen, and you've probably said worse yourself, in your own Wraith kind of way."

"I am not most Wraith, and if you forget yourself—"

"I'm not going to," she said and sat up enough that she could look at him, "because I know the difference between you and most Wraith."

The knot in his belly tightened. He did not like that she was making the distinction in that way. It would only take a momentary slip, and that would be an end to it. He also did not like the implications with the involvement of the Hive Second. If he could, he would take Alicia with him when he left again but as matters stood that too was impossible unless he wanted to arouse a good deal of suspicion as to where he was going.

"No, Alicia," he said, tilting her head up to meet the serious expression in his eyes. "I will not allow it."

Before she could argue with him again, as he sensed she was going to, he captured her lips under his, nipping sharply with his teeth against her lower lip, drawing blood, but deepening the kiss at her gasp, and plundering the taste of her mouth – fighting the madness that threatened to descend on him as he did.

"You know," Zelenka said as he came to a halt at Ronon's side, "Perhaps this isn't such a good idea after all."

"Radek," Ronon said in as soft a tone as he could muster. The last thing he wanted was for the man to get cold feet on him now, with McKay away on Todd's Hive with Sheppard and Jennifer Zelenka was the only one he could ask for help in this. "I just want to get inside… stand in there a while, see if I can get the sense of her… figure out where she might have gone."

"But… these are her private quarters, Ronon," Zelenka argued, "it is like… prying or stalking or—"

"What if she's in danger and needs our help?" Ronon cut him off. "What if, by going in there I can catch up to her in time to save her life?"

"You don't know that's the case," Zelenka said.

"You don't know it's not," Ronon countered. "Look, if you're worried about getting into trouble, I'll happily own up to everything. I'll even say I threatened you."

"But you didn't," Zelenka said in the same charmingly naïve way he usually did.

"I could if you wanted me to," Ronon said with a grin, then added, "Please, Radek. She may need us."

Zelenka sighed, but with no further argument hooked up his tablet to the door control and opened the door to Teyla's former quarters to allow Ronon to go inside.

"Thanks man, I owe you one," Ronon said.

"Yes, well… I know nothing about this," Radek said, and hurried away.

That suited Ronon just fine. He didn't need an audience to his communion with Teyla's ghost. He shivered. Thinking of it that way was not healthy. Teyla was alive and well – she had to be.

The room was exactly as she had left it, the dark earthen tones wrapping themselves around him almost before he stepped inside and allowed the atmosphere of the place to caress him; allowed himself to breathe in the essence that was uniquely Teyla.

"Where are you?" he whispered into the silence. "Where do I start looking?"

He turned full circle as though the answer would come to him. Her clothing hung in the open closet just as she'd left it, with her Bantu sticks at rest on the table beside it. He would have thought she would take them with her, use them as defence, until he remembered that originally she had only left to be with her people, to stay with them while she made sense of her thoughts; recovered from the betrayal she felt they, as her friends, had committed.

"You really meant it," he said sadly, "about not coming back?"

"Ronon, I am sorry," she said softly, "but not for a long time, if ever."

He sighed and looked down trying to think of what he could say to give her comfort. Nothing came to him, and she continued.

"Knowing that people I have called my friends for more than four years could treat me the way I have been treated; could keep something like this from me – it leaves me groundless – with nowhere I can turn for support."

"You could always come to me," he said.

"But you knew as well," she accused gently. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Teyla," Ronon sighed. "It's not that I didn't want to tell you – I just didn't know how."

"You have always known the way to speak with me," she said, looking up at him.

He shook his head. "Not like this, not about this," he said. "Every time I thought about the… experiments he must have done to you; to the baby… how he took something beautiful and pure that you and Kanaan had made and corrupted it with his madness, I just… I just wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands and—"

As he turned his eyes fell on the bed, and the small Athosian crib, incomplete beside it. He crossed the room and lowered himself to his knees beside it.

"You made your son with Kanaan," he said, echoing his words to her, "I know you did."

He reached inside the crib, to run his fingers over the soft blanket that still lay folded inside, trying to imagine what it would have been like to have had Teyla's child there on Atlantis, to watch him, and to play with him as he grew.

His fingers slipped from the blanket and connected with something solid, hard. He thought at first it was the base of the crib, but realised soon after that it did not have the texture he would have expected from the wood at the crib's base, and that it would have at least held a comfortable mattress for the base of the child's bed, so gingerly he moved aside the folded blanket.

There beneath, was a leather bound book of the kind in which he'd once seen Teyla writing. He held his breath as he started to pick up the book…

Teyla's journal.

Vega shivered as she looked around and as she did the thought occurred to her that the room in which she stood was probably the most dangerous place in the entire Pegasus Galaxy at that time.

Three white haired queens, as well as one of black hair, and another of unyielding blood red sat arrogantly on straight backed chairs arranged in a semi circle facing the dais, their respective commanders at their right shoulders. The Elder Queen held court over all of them from the top of her dais, her own expression one of distain for her company.

"You overestimate your reach," the first of the white haired queens snapped, getting to her feet and pacing across the width of the half circle. "Even though you hold that… thing as your captive, it does not stop what remains of his organisation from causing difficulties. Nor does it undo the harm he has wrought in poisoning our food source."

"For which my best scientist seeks a solution," the Elder Queen countered. "It will not be long in coming and when it does, tell me… on which side would you rather be?"

The first of the white haired queens opened her mouth to make some kind of comment, but was prevented from doing so by the black haired queen who sprang to her feet so suddenly that it startled Vega, and she took a step back.

She saw Hanna throw a glance her way, and turned her head to meet the other woman's eyes. The expression of mixed nervousness and contempt would have been comical, were it not for the chilling reality of the trouble the other woman had already caused her.

"All of our best scientists have been working to find a solution to that problem. What makes your Hive's efforts any better than the rest?" the black haired queen demanded.

"What we need," the red haired queen also got to her feet, joining the argument, "is a new, untainted feeding ground. Tell us… are you any nearer to providing us with the location of such a place?"

"This… Earth the Lantean's fight so hard to protect," the second of the white haired queens murmured sarcastically, though she did not rise. "Where is that?"

"Only by ending the strife between our kind," the Elder Queen growled less than patient with her fellow queens, "do we stand a chance of defeating the Lanteans and finding an expeditious way to their home world. One issue at a time. Sit!"

Whether or not the Elder Queen pushed her will onto the other queens Vega could not be sure, but each of the three that were standing returned to their seats, grumbling and unhappy.

"Better," the Elder Queen told them.

The third of the white haired queens – the queen that Vega remembered from the view screen – tilted her head to regard the Elder.

"So you draw us all here," she asked at last, "to form this alliance – what then?"

"Meaning?"

"What do you expect of us? What is the purpose of this alliance?"

"I told you," the Elder Queen said, "We must end the strife among our people."

"By force or by politics?" the red haired queen demanded.

"By whatever means necessary," the Elder Queen answered coldly. "Beginning here. Now."

Vega gasped.

As the Elder Queen spoke, several armed wraith commanders entered the chamber, their weapons trained on the five queens at the foot of the dais.

"What is the meaning of this?" the first of the white haired queens got to her feet again, turning full circle before glaring up at the Elder Queen. The Elder stood and began to slowly descend the steps toward the other.

"This is the point of no return," the Elder said menacingly softly, as her commander descended the steps behind her – protective and strong. The Queen tilted her head and continued, "We have spent many hours in talk and in dispute, and I have answered all of your questions – now it is time for you to answer the only one that has meaning to me."

She came to a halt just out of arms' reach of the other queen, her feeding hand clawed and slightly raised. From around her the hissed displeasure of the other four queens turned the air sibilant in its anger.

"Stand with me in alliance, or choose death!"

Vega's breath caught in her chest as without warning the white haired queen who had protested flew at the Elder, faster than anything Vega had ever seen. Even so the Elder Queen was not taken off guard. She grabbed the other's outstretched hand and using it, and her greater strength, the Elder Queen twisted the other queen beneath her, pushing her face first against the dais steps, where she held her momentarily.

"Pity," she purred entirely without a hint of sorrow in her voice. "We would have been stronger with your participation… still – you have made your choice."

In the next heartbeat, the Elder Queen flipped the other onto her back and thrust down with her feeding hand. With an almost Leonine roar she began to feed, and Vega turned her eyes away from the sight as the struggling queen withered and aged before her eyes, becoming nothing more than a dried husk of her former self, before that, too, crumbled to dust under the Elder Queen's onslaught.

"Now," the Elder Queen growled as she turned to face the other queens, "does anyone else wish to voice an objection?"

For a long time he sat with the journal in his hands, looking over the bindings, feeling the weight of the book, and wondering if what was inside contributed to that weight; if the answer to his worried question could be found within the privacy of its many leaves, and if it were, did he have the right to search for it.

Ronon sighed, fighting with his conscience. He needed to find Teyla, but was this the way?

Shaking his head he set the journal down on the bed where he was sitting, and getting up, walked around the room a little, trying again to find some sense of Teyla left behind, something that might tell him where he could find her. In the end his eyes were drawn once more to the journal that lay where he had left it, all but calling to him.

He picked up the book in his hand and ran his fingers along the soft cover again, before taking a breath, and opening the pages, seeing Teyla's flowing script filling the paper, his eyes running over snippets, hearing her voice in his head even without trying to read the words.

"I managed to get John to fly me out to the mainland today so that I could see the woods of this world. The seasons have just changed and we are in the fall. I should like to have seen the woods in the springtime, or in the fullness of their summer foliage, but... other things came between us then."

He flicked through several pages, trying not to wonder on what he'd read – what it was that had come between Teyla and John at that time. As he skimmed through the words on the page, his eyes could not help but halt over certain words in the entry he began to read…

"We have always been a migratory people, on Athos we moved our settlements around in order to avoid the Wraith cullings, but migration on a single world is one thing, migration all about the galaxy quite another. I got the sense from Halling that this, among other reasons, has unsettled those few Athosians that remain.

Yet, if what I learned from Halling is true, that my people seek a place in which we can finally settle; a place to call our home, where would we go? Is there another world that we could inhabit more happily than the mainland of this one, or should we return to New Athos, and risk once again becoming caught up in the campaign that Michael, with my son in his hands, wages against the Wraith?

Perhaps, after so many years, we should seek to return to Athos itself and hope that, in being left fallow for so long, it may have recovered from the desolation left by the Wraith in their retaliation for our resistance against them. Or would it be too hard for us to come full circle in this way?"

Ronon sighed. Several more pages passed through his fingers as he shared Teyla's worries for her people. Even after everything that had happened she still maintained the concern of a leader for her people and her place among them.

It was the difference in format that first caught his eyes as he flicked a few pages forward, and looking at the date he saw that it was dated not too long before she left Atlantis, after she had returned from her ritual with Halling.

"I dream wherein I am the shore.
Grain on grain,
A multi facet being,
And all my parts subsume
The very essence of time
Long past - tumbled and turned
In you.

At your insistence,
I erode and fall,
Willing beneath your caress,
Long for your return;
To feel the gentle coming
Of your quiescent whisper…"

Was she remembering Kanaan, and her love for him? The poem certainly struck him as one that spoke of love, and it made him smile to think that Teyla wrote such beautiful words for Kanaan – the man she had loved – the father of her son.

Until he read the commentary she had, in a shaky hand, scrawled between the verses of the poem…

"It is 3am, (Atlantis Standard Time). I cannot sleep. I have been dreaming again. It is the same dream I have had often of late. I am standing on my balcony in the dream, looking out over the water, my back to the city. His voice (something in that voice which resonates in me - though I probably should never admit that too loudly around here), comes from behind me. The words he speaks, the truth of them, are burned into my memory, perhaps deeper than that.

"...And even though you've betrayed me repeatedly, you're still the only one, human or Wraith, who's ever come close to understanding what I've been through. We're not that different, Teyla."

I turn to face him as he speaks, to find myself behind the spiral bars of the cell in his cruiser, no longer on Atlantis... or am I? Is this place - has it become - a prison of my own making?

There are many things that I find myself questioning, in quiet moments, now. Things that from one point of view make one kind of sense, and from another, they are entirely something different. At times like these I find myself wishing there was someone I could talk to... because there is no one, because they would not understand.

And that saddens me.

Perhaps it is time to fulfil my promise and return to visit with Raisa and Chaya, for even Halling... he has taken sides, most clearly, with his rescuers, and would you not think that I, who was equally taken by Michael, held by him, with threat to my child... that still continues… would you not think I would be equally as bitter, equally as angry, equally as unwilling to forgive? But I am not, and part of me is afraid of that, because I recognise that we pushed him to this. I pushed him to this... and my conscience weighs heavily with it. He came to me to ask for my help, and instead of acting on my own sense of right and justice, I allowed myself to be influenced by the beliefs of others. This is not Teyla; this is not the woman I am. How... have I become that person?

The dream continues, sometimes more clearly than others, and today I remember most clearly the day that we captured him for Carson's experiment... The way we fought, the recognition between us... the, (dare I confess it even here), excited fear that ran through me as he had me pinned at the bulkhead, poised on that knife edge between one action and another in those seconds before Ronon took him down; a sensation I felt again some few days later in an almost identical situation.

How can I deny that I understand him?

And there is no denial in the continuance of the dream, only desire… a longing as I see Kanaan's features shift to be his and I reach for him all the more, knowing this… understanding this…and wanting to feel the reality of it, not some distant ghostly touch in a dream…

I write this for you, Michael, though I doubt you will ever read it.

And yet strong winds
Around us drive to fury
All of our intentions.
And tumultuous you descent
Into the very essence of me,
Deep, and strong,
Yet true - in hurt, withdraw.

And still...
At your insistence
And recall, I fall,
Willing beneath your caress,
Long for your return;
To feel the gentle coming
Of your quiescent whisper.

I dream wherein I am the shore,
The beach whereon I know,
you come, finally,
To rest protected...
And I can wake - content.

Ronon couldn't stop the growl from rumbling in his chest as he read, and re-read, against his better judgement, the words on the page.

How… how could she…? It wasn't desire, or love or anything other than some kind of fall out from some twisted manipulation. He'd got into her head, messed with her mind. He—

Growling again, Ronon turned and threw the journal hard against the wall.

His hand clamped around her throat as he pushed her against the back of the throne, growling into her face even as she reached for him, feeding hand flailing. He grabbed that too, digging his nails into her wrist as he forced her hand away.

"I told you," he snarled, "my Queen, that I would be here when I was able, and yet still you interrupt important business to drag me here, and for what!"

"I wanted to speak with you. You… you… are my commander. I—"

He tightened his fingers, choking off her words, roaring at her, "Yes, I am your commander, and as such it is my duty to command your Hive and conduct such business as is necessary to ensure its safety, which I cannot do if I am constantly answering every little whim!"

He pulled her away from the back of the throne, almost, but not quite allowing her feet to touch the ground as he pulled her from it, and took her down the steps to the floor of the throne room.

"You will learn restraint, my Queen, or you will leave me no alternative but to repeat this lesson until you do!"

Without a further word to her he released her with a flick of his wrist that sent her skittering across the floor as she fell. Satisfied with the almost contrite, though hurt expression that crossed her face, he turned on his heels and with rapid, but unhurried steps, left the Queen's Chamber and headed for the bridge.

She tilted her head as she entered the laboratory, ignoring the human woman that fell to her knees at the sight of the Elder Queen. The Queen had eyes only for the former Hybrid, now turned… mostly… Wraith.

He snarled at her as she ran her hand over his bruised, naked torso, and she hissed in return, neither saying anything but making their positions clear to one another through the mere atmosphere. Not even a touch, mind to mind, was necessary to convey what each of them thought of the other.

"It need not be like this," she told him at last, not removing the touch, having no intention of removing the touch.

"I know how you would rather it be," The Abomination hissed, "and I can assure you that I have no intention of granting your wishes."

"No?" she asked, exaggerating her disappointment. "You would rather I subjected you to more—"

"Gentle persuasion?" he asked sarcastically. "Spare me the euphemisms, my Queen. We both know that unless I give you that which you desire you will subject me to further torture."

"Torture is such an… ugly word," she purred, running her feeding hand almost sensually over his chest.

"Torture is such an ugly act," he countered, flinching at her touch. "Believe me, I have been on both sides of the experience."

"Ah, my scientist," she leaned closer, never once removing her feeding hand, dripping enzyme in her excitement at his apparent docility.

"Your scientist," he answered, and twisted aside from the dripping open maw she poised over his heart. "Hardly."

"No," she admitted, "I suppose you only ever worked to your own agenda."

"I'm glad you finally realised," he answered coldly, meeting her eyes with a hard, golden stare of his own. "It has only taken… how many centuries?"

"Enough!" She snarled, raking the side of his chest with her blade tipped fingers. "You mock me!"

"Yes," he hissed, then cried out as she thrust the blades through his barely healed shoulder.

"I will give you one more chance, Michael." She mocked him cruelly, twisting the blades that were still embedded in his shoulder. "Surrender yourself to me. Give me what I want and—"

"I would rather die!" Michael spat, snarling through the pain in his shoulder.

"It can be arranged," she roared, pulling away her hand, releasing a spray of his blood into the air between them.

"Go ahead," he snapped, pouring ice into his voice, soothing his temper with the chill in it. It would do him little good to lose control. It could only end in his death and he had to survive long enough to exact justice on all Wraith that had crossed him and in particular the scientist that had been the source of his torment.

=pleasure= =pleasure= =pleasure=

"…as exquisite as the pain you have chosen to receive."

=to receive= =receive= =receive= =receive= =receive=

As she spoke, Michael braced himself for that pain, shuddering at her attempts to force herself into his mind, her clumsy attempts at sensuality, the nearness of her body.

All conscious thought ceased in the following moment as she moved away quickly and a searing, white pain burst into every nerve and fibre of his body. His back arched, and he could not hold the cry as the energy from the bio-genetic bed assaulted him to an almost molecular level. It was but a momentary burst, but the firing of nerve cluster left him shuddering and moaning in continued pain, and he barely turned his head in time to avoid vomiting over himself.

"We could have been magnificent," she leaned down to him, to breathe the words into his ear, before she left… the press of her mind, filling him with images of the two of them, entwined in sinuous embraces, leaving him as nauseated as the effects of the pain, was the last indication that she had finally left.

The light touch on his wrist made him start, and pull back his hand as far as the restraint would allow. He had been so caught by the residual aches that he had not even heard the worshipper approaching.

Her fingers were cool against the burning of his skin as she carefully unfastened the restraints at his wrists and ankles. He tried to sit up, but found himself unable… too weak… too much pain… instead rolled to his side, and all but fell from the bed.

"Why do you do this?" the worshipper asked him softly. She brushed her fingers across his brow to push back his hair.

"This?" he whispered, questioning.

"Fight her? Why?" the woman poured a little water into a bowl, and added a drop or two of something from a bottle he saw her take from her sleeve. She then took up a cloth from the bowl, and wringing out the water began gently to dab at the mess the Queen had made of his shoulder.

He hissed at the burn of the antiseptic, but since she had asked an honest question, he tried to answer. "She and I… have a long history together. She wronged me many times. Why would I not fight?"

"Because she hurts you?" the worshipper said.

"Physical pain is nothing," he said, not thinking. "And she cannot hurt me any more in any other way."

"The one you have lost must have been… very special to you," the worshipper said softly, removing the stinging touch of the antiseptic cloth from his shoulder. He turned his head so quickly to look at the perceptive young woman that she took a fearful step back. "Forgive me, Lor—"

"She was," he said softly, closing his eyes and feeling a new rush of emotional pain at the emptiness where Teyla had once been.

"I am glad you came to visit with me, Ronon," Raisa said, bringing the bowl of steaming liquid to him. He inhaled deeply of the rich scent of the tea, and nodded his thanks to the woman.

"I didn't know what else to do," he told her honestly. "I thought she was with her people, but according to Halling, she's been gone for weeks now, and none of us even knew she was missing."

"It is a worry," Raisa said, "and I wish I could give you comfort. I wish Teyla had come to me, but the last time I saw her was months ago, during the time she had the troubles with her friends from the city—"

"Atlantis?" Ronon blinked in surprised. "So this is where she ran to?"

"Yes," Raisa told him. "My daughter, Chaya, found her near the Ring of the Ancestors. She was ill with fever, and once she had rested, told me of her ordeal, and of the one called—"

"Michael," Ronon snarled.

"Yes," Raisa said again, and sipping her own tea, asked, "Do you believe she could be searching for this… man?"

"Michael's not a man, he's a Wraith," Ronon snarled.

"That is not as Teyla describes him," Raisa argued gently. "While he was once Wraith as you name him, she said the people of the City of the Ancestors gave to him a medicine that destroyed that which made him Wraith – for a time at least."

Ronon sighed, and felt his chest tighten unexpectedly with emotion. The woman reminded him so much of Teyla, yet at the same time was wholly different and he found himself drawn to listen to her, even though he disagreed with her, just as he had with Teyla.

"She told you all of that?" he asked, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He did not want to dishonour himself, and Raisa with that.

"Yes. That and many things," Raisa said. "Particularly of the time she spent in his company."

"His captivity," Ronon corrected, he would not concede that.

"As you wish," Raisa said, good naturedly, sipping tea once again in a silence that suggested to Ronon that she was waiting for him to speak. When he did not she said softly, "searching?"

"Oh, sorry," Ronon covered his embarrassment by sipping his tea. "Yeah, I think she's searching for him. She told you about the baby, right?"

"Her son, yes," she confirmed. "She told me that Michael kept the boy from her. If you believe she is searching for this Michael because of her son, then why would she have come to me?"

Ronon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt as though he had been caught, red handed, with Teyla's journal. "She… um…"

"What is it, Ronon?" Raisa set down her tea, and moved toward him, to crouch near where he was sitting and laid a hand onto his wrist, over the leather guard he wore there. "Teyla named you as one of her closest friends; a brother, if there is anything that I can tell you that will help in your search, please, I would hear it. I will not judge you for it."

That did not make him feel any better about what he'd done, in fact it left him feeling worse.

"I was just looking for clues for how to find her, Raisa, you have to believe that," he said.

"I will not judge you, Ronon," she told him again, meeting his eyes with her own.

He fell into her gaze, into the honesty he saw there and while feeling more ashamed than ever of the snooping that had led to his disquiet over Teyla's state of mind he answered her quietly.

"I found her journal… I thought if I read something… if I flicked through it, it might help me to figure out where to find her, or at least where to start looking," he said.

"And what you read has… troubled your heart," she guessed.

He couldn't answer; couldn't bring himself to tell her what he'd found. He wouldn't allow himself to entertain the thought of it. Mutely he shook his head.

"You fear she may have feelings for Michael," Raisa said softly.

"No," he snapped, and when she tilted her head, silently challenging his denial, he said, "I think that Michael made her believe she does. Wraith… have this ability… they mess with people's minds, they—"

Raisa nodded, and foolishly he realised that she, as all in the Pegasus Galaxy understood only too well the power of the Wraith. It was not the realisation that cut him off, however, but her soft spoken words.

"But Michael is not Wraith."

"Commander!"

Todd paused mid-step along the breezeway into the Dart Bay, breathing out a long, slow sigh, before he turned to face his Second who came hurrying toward him. He felt the other's alarm even before the usually calm, collected Wraith reached him.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I have just come from the Queen's Chambers. Commander, I regret, you cannot leave," his Second said.

"Cannot le—" his anger flared at the audacity of his Second and he all but roared, "Unless you think to challenge me as Commander of this Hive, you would do well not to seek to order me!"

"I mean no disrespect, Commander," his Second said. "You mistake my purpose."

Todd advanced on the subordinate Wraith, step by slow step as he answered, "Then you had better reveal your purpose, and quickly."

"It is the Queen, Commander," his Second said.

"What of her?" Todd asked, barely trying to conceal his contempt for the young Wraith female.

"She is in First Zenith," his Second said.

Todd froze, lest he rock back on his heels. It should not have happened, not so soon. By his estimation there were days, perhaps weeks before the young queen reached that stage in her development. How could he have been mistaken?

"You are certain?" he growled.

"Never more so, Commander," his Second confirmed, and Todd reached out to touch his Second's mind, to take the discovery from his memory, "but if you wish to see for yourself—"

"That will not be necessary," he said, withdrawing the mental touch, his irritation and disquiet mounting. He could only speculate that due to her proximity to him, and his to the Elder Queen, who attempted to quell her own Zenith in order to wait for The Abomination's acquiescence, the concentration of pheromones had pushed the younger queen's cycle out of due alignment with her own development.

"Then you will stay?"

Growling softly he answered, "No. The matter that I must attend to cannot wait."

"But the Queen," his Second protested.

"Will not suffer unduly for want of a few days in wait for her Commander," Todd hissed, advancing once more on his Second. "If it becomes a problem for the others of this Hive then evidently they have forgotten what it means to be Wraith and will be treated accordingly!"

He leaned in closer to his Second, dripping threat on every syllable of his words and from every pore of his being. He would, if he had to, demonstrate his sincerity to this Wraith, though he was loathe to destroy such a loyal Second as this one had been. They complemented each other well.

"It shall be as you desire, Commander," his Second said quickly.

"Good," Todd said, straightening up and preparing to complete his path across the breezeway, to take his Dart and return to the Elder Hive once more.

"May I enquire—" his Second began, and Todd stopped again.

"Speak," he ordered.

"When might we expect your return? And in the meantime what should be done about the Humans?"

Todd tilted his head back and forth a time or two as he considered the question.

"In a day or so," he said. "I will return via the last portal before the space beyond the portal network. As for the Humans, continue to monitor Sheppard. If his condition worsens, bring the doctor to alleviate his symptoms. Otherwise, she is to remain in the laboratory."

His Second bowed his head in acceptance of his orders, which Todd was gratified to see. It went some way to quell the unease growing in his belly. Some way, but did not soothe his worries entirely.

The Elder Hive was a seething, boiling mess of heightened emotions and barely controlled sensuality. It was almost painful and the Hive Second moved with a pace and ferocity that betrayed his scarcely held temper.

The Hive's atmosphere extended even to the Lower Station, where it lay like a miasma over the quarters and the inhabitants there. As soon as he entered the outer corridors, worshippers scurried away, blending into shadows, or disappearing into doorways to put a bulkhead between them and the high ranking Wraith.

In the outer corridors it did not bother him overmuch, as he doubted he would find the one he sought among those of lesser rank among the worshippers, and those that were not among the Pureborn. However, when he reached the inner chambers of the Lower Station, and the worshippers failed to respond to his presence as they should have done, the thin veneer he had erected around his mood shattered.

He reached out and grasped the nearest Handler by the scruff of his neck, lifting him from the ground as he pulled him closer.

"Get them all out here!" he ordered, the triple tone of his voice rolling like a wave over the man as he all but dropped the unfortunate man.

The Handler fell instantly to one knee, blotting at his nose with the back of his hand, that came away red with his blood. Still, he called out a single word, and with only a short delay, the shadows resolved into the terrified figures of the Elder Hive's worshipper population.

The Hive Second walked the line of the assembled worshippers, dismissing the men with an impatient wave of his hand within line of sight of their downcast eyes, and examining the women with the eyes of memory.

He tilted his head as he regarded the scene below, trying to take account, to form an opinion of this prisoner they now called 'The Abomination' and to make sense of all he knew of this Hive, its commanders… this Queen and her self serving plans for the future.

"I don't understand," The young worshipper's voice was light, trembled slightly as she spoke to the creature to whom she had been given in service. "It does you no good to ignore your hunger. How will you heal?"

"Is that what you really want?" the creature answered her, and turned his head slowly towards her. She backed up a step. "For me to feed on you; take your life?"

"It is what he wants," she answered, "what has been asked of me in service of my Queen."

It was not long before he saw her, eyes downcast as they should be, her light brown hair swept back and held in a single clasp behind her head. Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her, ready at a moment's notice to offer herself to whichever Wraith should demand it of her.

As he came to a halt in front of her, he did not miss the way that she flicked her eyes up for just a second to take in the sight of him; the way her hands twitched as though to move to take the sides of her blouse into her fingers – all as it should be.

"Walk with me," he said almost softly, holding out a hand in her direction.

{walk with me} {with me} {with me}

Her hand, when it met with his was cold, and trembled as he drew her away from the others. She glanced at the Handler, still on his knees in front of the line of worshippers.

"You do not need to look to him," the Hive Second told her, drawing her further away from her companions, toward the corridors that led away from the Lower Station. He carefully transferred the hand he still held to his leather clad forearm, and did not speak again until he felt they were far enough away from the Lower Station that they would not be overheard. Softly he said, "Tell me, child, what is it that you fear will happen to you?"

"I… do not know, Lord," she answered at once, glancing at him. "I… failed in my task…. I did not… persuade M— the creature to feed on me, I—"

"Her wishes, not mine," he interrupted softly.

"Lord?" She looked at him then, and he noticed with wry amusement that, in her shock at him speaking out against the Queen, even in such a small way, she had forgotten to keep her gaze downcast, and regarded him openly. He tilted his head, not at all reprimanding her. After another moment she dared to ask, "What are… your wishes then?"

The Hive Second let out a long, slow hiss, pushing away the immediate answer that sprang into his mind as he walked with the young woman through the corridors of the Hive. Such a thing would be only reflex, instinct borne of the unrest, of the Queen's Zenith that sent crushing waves through the minds and senses of all aboard her Hive. Even if he were to seek relief in this young one, it would be momentary – temporary – not until the Queen herself received the neutralising enzyme from her commander would the effect fade, and the Hive return to normal.

The girl's hand trembled against his arm and he realised he had not answered her and so quietly, he said, "Knowledge… understanding."

"Of what, Lord?" she asked.

"Tell me – of what have you and the former Wraith scientist spoken?"

"Not, The Abomination?" she said.

The Hive Second chuckled. "It would seem you have developed a certain fondness for that one," he said.

"He has suffered greatly in his resistance against—" the young woman began to explain.

"A foolish gesture that will earn him nothing but a long, slow death," the Hive Second snapped, and growling he turned to corner the girl against one of the bulkhead walls. He leaned down to her, his manner changing like the coming of a summer storm, and snarled, "Tell me everything… and live."

Ronon came to a halt beside the Gate, tired and more worried than ever. Even talking through half of the night with Raisa, neither of them had come any closer to deciding where Teyla might have gone. He was no clearer now as to where to look as he had been when he came.

"Ronon," Raisa called to him softly as he approached the DHD. He turned to her and waited while she approached him. "You will come and tell me when you find her, won't you?"

Ronon put his hands on her shoulders, "Of course I will, Raisa. I know how important she is to you, and how much she values you as a friend. When we find her, I'll tell you… hey, I'll even bring her to visit, how's that?"

Raisa smiled, and reached up to cup his cheek briefly in one of her hands. "Thank you. I would appreciate that very much."

"Be safe," Ronon said softly, feeling a pang of added worry turn his belly as he prepared to leave such a gentle woman and her daughter, a girl full of life and energy and innocence alone on the planet – fearing that nowhere was safe from the Wraith, wondering if – for Teyla's sake, he should bring them with him, back to Atlantis – or at least bring them to the Athosian settlement where they would be among others that would help to protect them.

"And you, Ronon Dex," Raisa told him. "May the blessing of the Ancestors go with you."

She lowered her head then, waiting for him to touch his forehead to hers. Her serenity in doing so touched him deeply, calmed him for the time they shared the parting gesture.

He took a deep breath, and finally dialled Atlantis.

He stopped just inside the door, and tilted his head, sensing her, tasting her scent in the air before he saw her, curled on the cot at the side of the laboratory. Frowning in concern he keyed the door lock and began to cross the room.

As he came closer he saw that she must have been here for some time, waiting for him, and had fallen into a light doze. He dropped to one knee beside the cot and reached for her.

"Todd?" she woke before he could lay a hand to her arm, and started to sit up, unsteady in her sleepy state.

"Yes, Alicia, I am here," he said softly. "Did something happen?"

"I didn't feel safe," she told him. "Hanna… and then the Commander, I… he…"

"You are not making sense, my dear," Todd purred, and looked her over in concern, looking for any signs of injury or hurt. "What did the Hive Commander do?"

"Nothing," Vega took a deep breath, obviously trying to steady herself. "It’s just that Hanna was saying he would come for her, and—"

"To your quarters?" Todd asked, frowning, when she nodded, at the clear breech in protocol. Worshipper came to Wraith, not the other way around. It was quite obviously a message, not so subtly sent. Todd took a deep breath, and let it out in a long, slow growl, his decision falling into place, featherlike, and drifting.

"Then you must stay here," he said, beginning to rise to his feet, "and I will make it known that I sent for you."

Alicia got up too, blushing a little bit, "But—" she began, and then swallowed hard as Todd reached out and ran the tips of his fingers over the side of her neck.

"But?" he purred, and she felt the colour rushing to her face.

He looked up at her then, and her blush deepened as she realised the querying motion of his head was to express his confusion at the redness in her cheeks.

She shook her head and started to rise, but, distracted, stumbled. Before she knew anything else, Todd's hands closed around her elbows, supportive, holding her steady until she found her own balance.

"Perhaps it is time, my little Alicia," he murmured softly.

"Time?" she whispered, almost fearful of what he meant.

He seemed to hesitate, withdraw a little, though he said in the same soft tones, "Allow me to see you to your rest," before beginning, almost gently, to lead her toward his private quarters, only to halt as they reached the doorway.

"Aren't you—?" she started to ask as he let go of her elbow and had perhaps stepped back. She felt suddenly chilled, suddenly wanting him to stay.

"I will rest," he assured her, an almost-smile on his face at what he must have thought of as her concern for him, "but perhaps it would be better if I were to do so here."

He inclined his head toward the lab's cot, where she had fallen asleep waiting for him.

"Please, Todd," she said, and reached for his hand. "I don't want to be by myself."

So, she felt it too and was, rightly, afraid. Still though, he had sensed her fear and uncertainty concerning advancing their closeness beyond the hesitant acceptance of his careful overtures toward her, and he had made a promise to her, of sorts, had named himself as different to other Wraith and now, of all times, was the time to prove to her the truth of his words.

As she took his hand, though, as her cool fingers settled on the sensitivity at his wrist, the tide of instinct that he had been working so hard to hold back, threatened to overcome him. He had told her he would go no further than she would allow, but… perhaps it would do no harm to push, even if slightly.

"Ah, my Alicia," he purred and stepped slowly over the threshold of the doorway. "To think, all this time I have left you feeling alone… vulnerable."

"Not always," she told him. She looked up at him as he stepped closer; raised the hand he still held to his lips and almost delicately grazed the palm of it with his sharp teeth. He pushed lightly at her mind, seeking admittance; to understand.

He all but tasted the rush of sensation that raced along the nerves of her arm at the gesture; clearly heard her soft, gasped intake of breath, and could tell, as he breathed in deeply of the air around them, the instant her body's response to his nearness began.

She gasped as his teeth scraped against her hand and sent a tingling rush along her arm to stir a sudden, frantic fluttering in her chest, and needing to feel the reality of the moment, reached up to rest her other hand against the warmed leather of his coat.

He growled, soft and low, almost chuckling, and she frowned in query.

"The gesture," he told her, and the warmth of his large hand covered hers as he continued, "is almost like one between Wraith; acceptance…"

~acceptance~ ~acceptance~ ~acceptance~

His voice echoed in her mind with a warm sensuality that left her shivering, almost alive with it.

"But I do, I—"

She broke off as he moved her hand beneath his own, toward the buckle of his coat, bringing the other down from where he held her fingers close to the warmth of his breath to join the first; prove her words and as she began to fumble at the buckle, he let go and encircled her with his arms. His fingers trailed lightly over her back, where the dress she wore left her skin exposed.

His touch, as close as he was, drew a deeper aching still from within her, to tremble through her muscles, answered by her trembling as she unfastened the buckle, his coat, and slipped her suddenly cold hands inside its shielding warmth, upwards to find his shoulders, beneath the leather.

An equilibrium of tension; of nervous excitement snapped as she pushed at the coat, and he leaned down suddenly to capture her lips in a deep, consuming kiss.

A rush of spicy, almost cinnamon scent and taste flooded through her as his tongue, as if seeking to know all of her, plundered her mouth. She made fists of her hands around the warmed cloth of his undershirt as he shrugged off the heavy battle-coat and tossed it, effortlessly and without breaking the kiss, to land on the top of one of the nearby chairs. She moaned into the kiss. A flaring of passion, almost terrifying in its intensity flooded her and she began to feel light-headed from it, and from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. She gripped more tightly to his shirt, opening to his even deeper kiss, before, gasping his name she tore her lips from his. Already they were swollen from the intensity of their kiss.

He growled softly as she tore away from him, gasping for breath and took many deep calming breaths to drive back the rising of his passions, crooning on the last of those, a deeply sexual whisper, "Ah-licia…"

She shivered in his arms and tried to hide her face against his chest, but he caught her cheek against his hand, his thumb beneath her chin to bring her eyes to his. Her pupils were wide, her eyes dark with desire, and the scent of her arousal bit deeply into the core of his sensory receptors. He had no reason to doubt her willingness, yet still he asked, "If you are in any way… uncertain, still…"

Her fluttering hand settled briefly against his lips, halting his words. Deliberately slowly he drew one of her fingers into his mouth, holding it almost delicately between his teeth, teasing her with the motion of his tongue.

She moaned in answer and with another soft, sensual growl, he lifted her into his arms, and crossed the room to settle them both against the wide, comfortable surface of his bed.

He felt the tightening ache of his own arousal increase as her arms clasped him almost desperately as he set her down, kicked off his boots, and moved to settle beside her, and as much as he was more than ready to lose himself in this woman, this little Lantean diversion – his concubine – he knew he must yet proceed with care.

Bending his head to kiss and then to nip lightly at the side of her neck, he murmured, "I will not harm you, my parmhuna."

~parmhuna~ ~parmhuna~ ~parmhuna~

She felt as though she was drowning in him, unable to move or to breathe save to grip tightly to the side of his shirt as he settled against her. The word echoed in her mind as the sensual neural caresses moved over and through her. At the same time he eased her to lie back beside him, his lips and teeth at her neck, nipping lightly at first but with growing fervour as the moments passed.

As the bites became harder, driving an exquisite, sharp pain along the pathway of some nerve, she felt her nipples harden against the fabric that lay between the touch of Todd's cool skin and her own heated flesh. His palms pressed her breasts as though he sensed the change in her and wished to better feel those hardened nubs, the proof of her desire, her need, and following the path of the nerve he began a slow descent of kiss and bite against the exposed skin of her chest, his hands, nails trailing light scratches over her, moved to grasp the tight velveteen cloth and heedless of the tearing fabric, to push it aside; free her from the constriction of it.

The rush of cooler air against her breasts further peaked her nipples to harder, almost painful bundles of nerves, and she cried out with the shock of sensation that went through her as his lips closed around a nipple, drawing her into his mouth, to nip with teeth and flicker the soothing balm of his tongue against the sharpness of the bites. Her back arched as she sought both to escape the too-sweet assault and bring him closer to her all at once. Her hands, once fists against his back, opened and then her fingers grasped at him, digging her nails into him through the shirt.

As he raised his head to look at her, she moaned softly at the cessation of the feelings he was bringing her.

"Take it off," he commanded softly, tilting his head and capturing her eyes with his. She found herself falling into them… her breathing quickening… her mind spinning, becoming dizzy.

"Todd," she whispered.

"Take it off," he repeated, and leaned up just enough that her trembling hands could lift the bottom edge of the shirt and ease the garment over his head.

She couldn't help but gasp at the sight of his broad chest, the grey-green Wraith colouration seemed, somehow, to accentuate the definition of each individual muscle, and her eyes feasted on them, every one… gliding over his pectorals, and the hard, toned shape of each of his abs.

Over the surface of his chest, beginning at his left shoulder, was a delightfully complex angular burst of lines and symbols that descended over his sternum to burst over his belly in an ancient tribal symbol of strength, matched and continued down the length of his right arm. He chuckled slightly, took one of her hands, and kissing the palm, placed her fingers against his chest.

She almost snatched her hand away at the rumbling which began in him as she started to follow the path of her gaze with the touch of her hand, and barely felt the tickling trail of fabric that teased its way upward on the side of her leg. His muscles danced in response to her fingers, his breathing quickened and his soft growls rumbled through where the skin of his chest brushed against hers, as he turned toward her a little more, his leather clad knee an insistent pressure against her own as he mingled their lower limbs, and parted her legs to the brush of his fingers against her inner thigh, in the moment her hand brushed the waistband of his pants.

"Oh God!" She snatched a breath as his touch sent a flush of spiralling heat straight to the swollen, aching space not that much higher on her body than his touch. Relentless he continued to lightly scratch and stroke against the tender skin of her thigh, turning his head slightly to watch the almost lazy pass of his hand. She trembled against him, making a claw of her hand against the back of his shoulder as the sensations became overwhelming, almost painful with the need for something more – a brightness that she could not reach.

"We are," he murmured teasingly, returning the attentions of his lips and teeth to the side of her neck and the top of her shoulder, "somewhat… overdressed, my little Alicia."

She moaned in answer, drawing a light chuckle from him against her shoulder, before he moved away, not far, but enough to ease her to sitting so that he could reach the fastening on the dress – a redundant notion, she thought, since it was already ripped and would need to be replaced. All coherent thought was wiped away with the swirling cool of the Hive's atmosphere that suddenly wrapped itself around her nakedness. She heard the flutter of fabric as he tossed the remains of her dress away and tilted his head as his eyes took in the sight of her.

He growled.

Her pale, unblemished skin accented the dark triangle of body hair that graced the space at the apex of her legs, which already glistened with the sign of her readiness; in acceptance of him. The scent of her arousal, maddeningly sweet and musky, brought him to new heights of tension in his already hypersensitive sensual state.

He reached for her hand as she moved as though to cover herself from his sight, brought her chilled fingers back to the waistband of his pants, a tacit instruction, the best he could manage as he fought to control the predatory nature of his sexuality. Even so he breathed her in again, filling himself with the scent of her, as he meant to fill her with the essence of himself.

He tipped his head, sensual, snakelike first one way and then the other, and breathed her name amid the rising of his mating hiss. "Alicia…" and moving her hand beneath his, unfastened each catch on his pants.

As she tried to ease her hand away from him, he caught her wrist and brought the trembling fingers to meet with the scalding risen heat of his need; the length of him hard beneath the touch of her hand.

"Know me…" he instructed, as he released her, and moved to ease the leather away from the rest of his body, revealing his flesh to her.

The answering sound she made was soft and light, and once more roused him toward instinct rather than control.

Her stomach clenched, part way between excitement, fear and intense need as her fingers brushed against his erection; the differences between Wraith and Human immediately obvious even by touch. It both frightened and aroused her more to think of what was to come.

Her breath came in trembling snatches as she ran her fingertips along the length of him, as growing bold she flattened her hand against him, running the many ridges over her palm and circling his wide girth with her fingers.

He hissed her name as she slowly mapped him with her touch, from base toward the tip of him, and as her fingers grazed the smoother head of his member, she felt the stirring of movement, and finally bold, began to tip her head to try and see.

She gasped, momentarily fearful as he suddenly caught her by the throat to bring her lips upward to meet his waiting, passionate kiss, then moaned again, a long, slow moan, deep and needful as his fingers trailed down over her breasts and stomach, skirting her pubis, to tease once more against her inner thighs, rolling to cover one side of her, his knee coming to rest between hers, opening her to his coming touch.

The long, deep kiss burned through him, stealing his breath and threatening his control. Already he could feel the rage of instinct, his body answering the call of that one, tiny strand within hers and he fought to control it. He wanted her, would sate their mutual passions, gladly and with infinite satisfaction but he would not – would not – surrender himself to that part of him… not yet… not until he could be sure…

"Parmhuna," he whispered, sibilant against her neck as he broke the kiss, and lowered his lips to the side of her, toward her shoulder, to take in the scent of her need, comingled with the tang of his own, as her hand still moved over him, drawing out the facilitating enzyme. He reached for her hand, drew it away from his length and entwined their fingers, pressing the back of her hand to the bed, and shifting his kisses, and the nipping of his teeth to the inside of her wrist and arm. He moved further over her, to trap himself against her hip, barely moving, and crept the teasing touch he made against her thigh still higher, feeling the heat of her against his fingers before ever he touched her.

Almost delicately he parted the dewy folds of her body, sliding his fingers gently back and forth over the smooth softness of her, teasing at the bundle of nerves, risen to a peak at his touch with a light squeeze between finger and thumb. Her back arched, moving her hip against his length drawing a growl from him to answer the high pitched gasp she gave to his caresses.

As he teased and circled the entry to her body's core with knowing fingers, he lowered his head to nip at the soft skin of her breast, to take her nipple into his mouth and nip and lick until she cried his name and arched again to catch, and to escape, both touches. Cautiously he pushed at her mind, barely opening to her as he teased and caressed and maddeningly slowly, for he wanted to feel the muscles at her core tense in Human instinct, he began to ease his questing touch within.

"Todd, wait! Wait!" she gasped.

Realisation flared within his mind as her whole body reacted to the touch, and his sensitive fingertips felt the resistant membrane, soft to his touch. Still stroking softly, and feeling an answering easing of the tension, he raised his head to look at her and asked softly, "I am… your first, Parmhuna?"

Vega nodded, hiding her face against his shoulder, still breathing hard, still half lost in the spiralling feelings his touches stirred in her.

Her neck and shoulders ached from his nips and deep, marking kisses, her tender breasts ached for more of the same, and the pulsing wave of almost painfully desperate need flowed in and around the space invaded by the touch of his long fingers… almost sharp, almost uncomfortable… but sweet sensation all the same.

"Look at me, Alicia," his voice rumbled through her, but she could not. "Look at me."

~look at me~ ~at me~ ~at me~

She felt the spiralling of need inside of her increasing at the touch of his thumb against the tender nub at her centre while his fingers barely moved inside of her. His mind pushed almost gently at hers, encouragement rather than command, and slowly, almost reluctantly she raised her eyes to his.

The moment her eyes met his they locked and she felt his movements increase, barely at first, and then slowly greater as his touch moved deeper, teasing, enlivening. Emotion wound around and around in her mind until she was dizzy with it, and with the sensations flowing from that touch, that twisted tighter and tighter around her, subsuming the control of each muscle in her body until she was trembling and weak from the tension of it, needing release, wanting freedom from the exquisite torture he was giving to her… reaching for a peak until… he moved the caress away.

"Todd," she gasped, "please…"

"Trust me, my little Alicia," he breathed against her lips as already he was moving to gather her beneath him, supporting himself on one arm as he slipped the other beneath the small of her back, gathering her close, until she felt his heat against the ache at her centre, pulsing slightly at the circle of her core.

Trembling, she kissed him, and he took her lower lip between his teeth and nipped at the swollen sensitivity until she moaned softly against his mouth, and opened to the deep kiss he shared with her, tongues sparring in their mutually rising needs.

Growling softly, he moved to bring them together, breathing out in a long, slow hiss as she began to sheathe him, and winding their minds more strongly together, opening himself to her fully, he lifted her slightly, tilting her hips. Drawing away just barely he held himself in a moment of stillness before he sank into her core, feeling her tightness around him, incensed by the fire it ignited in him, pure instinct that he captured and exorcised in another, deep, almost guttural growl.

He felt the resistance of her body against him as he entered her more deeply, and the answering contraction of her muscles around him, as holding her close, he let his weight settle over her – taking her completely.

She cried out, and he took her cry and the momentary stab of pain inside himself, answering her with his growing pleasure at being so fully enfolded in her softness. He breathed in deep of the scent of them, no longer two, but one – their arousal as sweet a sharpness as the pain that coursed through his pleasure – and comingled with new, copper scent of the moment that none could ever take from them.

The cry she gave was deep and primal as he possessed her fully, as he entered her body in one slow, smooth stroke. The pain of it sharpened all of the spiralling pleasures into a single point, an ache that sat at the middle of her very being and began to contract, sharpen with the pass of each ridge of his member inside of her, until at last he stilled, but for the pulsing now deep in her core.

The press of his mind became dizzying once more, pushing within as the pulse against her core increased. She felt her vision blurring, her inner vision opening to the flicker of an image, a feeling… a thought not her own. It was a dazzling spiral, a sunburst, the heat of primal explosion that left her breathless and tingling, and then he began to move.

She cried out again, another deep and primal cry and wrapped her arms around him, though whether to try and hold him back or draw him closer she was not certain. He pushed against her and the deep, tight ache, the sharp stab of pain began to blur and transform again to the breathlessness of need, desire. She parted her thighs to allow him closer, drawing him to her with the claws she made of her fingers at his back, her nails drawing lines over the ridges of his spine.

She saw and felt the gathering redness, a light and heat travelling toward a single point, inside her; inside him, and yet still somewhere outside of both of them. Her breath came in snatches now, as his movements increased, as his length caressed her deeper inside, the ridges teasing at the most sensitive nerves with every stroke, her muscles bunched against him with each movement within. Each sound he made, each hiss, or growl, each snarling moan of pleasure travelled through her to settle in the bright knot forming inside her; in the gathering heat in her mind.

Lost in her growing need, in the press of his mind in hers, the inner sharing that matched and intensified the outer, Alicia began to move with him more fully, matching his rise and fall into her with her own, and welcomed the added ache inside of her, at her core. The burning inside of her now was so hot, so intense and focussed that she could feel only the need for life, to burst open and apart, to fill the spiralling darkness that surrounded the bright edges of their conjoined desire with the light she knew would come from it.

She could feel the tightness inside of him, the ache in him and the gathering of his own passions, she squeezed herself tighter around him, drawing another deep primal growl that started the trembling in her muscles, and drew a sudden sheen of perspiration over her entire body, to mingle with his, and with the fluids of their bodies, his enzymes – her blood and risen dewy desire.

Her heartbeat faltered, fluttering in her chest, and with a sudden snarling, Todd thrust hard against her, inside her, and she bucked her hips to meet with his, and for but a single moment, everything stopped… and then he burst inside her and she shattered for him… crying out again as all sensation sped to every nerve, every fibre that she was, consuming everything she was, or could ever hope to be…

The red star burst, a nova destroying those worlds close by, a bright flash in the sky of a darkening world… there was pain, shared, passed into the memory of the one that squeezed to life from between her thighs – her thighs? The cry of the birthing infant lost in the dying moan of its host.

Silence fell over the private quarters, punctuated only by the frantic gasping breaths she took in the aftermath of the shared climax that had shaken her to the core.

She felt the touch of his mind ease, loosen. He did not fully leave her, but wrapped the single word into her awareness.

~parmhuna~ ~parmhuna~ ~parmhuna~

She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing…

... and in her mind the clear image of a bright red flash in an otherwise dark sky…

…instead, Alicia Vega wept.

Coming Soon

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