Tiitle: Ardhanarishvara
Authors: Auburn & Mona aka auburnnotlisa
Email us at:  monanotlisa, or  auburnnothenna
Size: 103,540 words, 668 KB [this file]
Genre: Alternate Universe
Timeline: Diverging Pre-The Long Goodbye 2x16
Rating: hard R
Characters (in alphabetical order): Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, plus supporting cast.
Pairing(s): Something for everyone...no, okay, that's a filthy lie. But something for most of you. At some point. Promise.
Warning: This fic does not contain BDSM, incest, or bestiality. No one turned into a penguin.
Gratitude heaped upon: Sara, Zoe Rayne, and Trinityofone, also Icarusancalion, Smitty, le vert colibri, mirabile_dictu and carolyn_claire for betas, and a lot of other people for consults, cheering and patience.
Summary: "Tell me, Colonel, did you take a look around and think, hey, it's the Planet of Sex Changes?"

Link to Part II [~104,000 words, 704 KB]

Ardhanarishvara

Sheppard is ready to cloak the jumper, go into evasive maneuvers, or start shooting if there are Wraith, but coming through an orbital gate tends to be less hassle than any of their missions on foot. That's why he volunteered his team to take on part of this survey of gates not opening into atmosphere -- the last few missions have involved either getting shot at by disgruntled natives or ending up as field hands in Teyla's trade negotiations and that's just not what he joined the Air Force for. He wants some flight time, damn it.

He's tired of hearing McKay complain about his sore feet, too.

McKay hunches over the controls, muttering to himself as the jumper exits the gate.

Sheppard checks his own display, frowns, then checks the viewport.

Nothing but stars.

"Uh, McKay?" he says.

"Busy here."

"McKay? There's no planet."

McKay's head jerks up, and he stares out the viewport, clearly poised to spot an entire planet that Sheppard has missed. Then he blinks and blinks again, his mouth dropping open a little. With a frown he bends back over his instruments.

"No, no, there has to be a planet. The database says there's a planet here."

Sheppard waves at the vacuum in front of the jumper. "Not so much." He glances back at the other two.

Teyla raises an eyebrow. Ronon studies the viewport and then looks over McKay's shoulder at his read-outs.

"That," he says.

"What, that?" McKay snaps. "There is no that."

"There was."

" - wait, yes, there's gravity." Rodney points triumphantly at something on his laptop's screen. "A gravity well, actually. Pay attention; the jumper is compensating for something."

Sheppard checks a couple of sensor suites himself, the HUD displaying the results in response to his thoughts. He suppresses the impulse to pat the jumper's front console and murmur, "Good girl," if only because he knows McKay would mock him.

McKay is right, of course. The inertial dampeners and artificial internal gravity keep Sheppard from feeling it the way he would have in an F-302.

Not that he isn't going to needle McKay a little anyway. "Compensating, Dr. McKay?"

McKay rolls his eyes. "Grow up, Colonel." With a smug little grin, he adds, "I'm not the one who runs around with a phallic symbol strapped to his thigh all the time, not just for missions."

Touché.

"Compensating?" Teyla asks.

Sheppard knows she waits for these opportunities. He does. He knows it. "Never mind." He's figured out the best way to not embarrass himself is to not explain.

He stares at the displays.

"Definitely worth checking out," he drawls.

"Of course it is," McKay says. "Yes, look, see, here?" Another HUD materializes before them, pulled up by McKay and his artificial gene as smoothly as Sheppard pilots the jumper. He points at the lines looping around the primary. "These planets are all in orbit. You might notice this very apparent gap between the orbit of the fourth planet and the fifth."

"About where Earth has its asteroid belt," Sheppard comments.

McKay snaps his fingers and points at Sheppard. "Exactly. Except no asteroids, no debris, just an empty space where a planet should be orbiting according to the dynamics of this system."

"So it was destroyed?" Ronon says.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah," McKay replies with a smug grin. "No debris. And —"

Sheppard raises his eyebrow again.

"An analysis of the orbits of the other planets clearly displays the perturbation caused by the presence of a gravity well in orbit between the fourth and the fifth planet."

Ronon leans forward, seems vaguely interested for the first time. Teyla has a pensive look on her face; for a second, it seems as if she wants to open her mouth to say something but — nothing.

Sheppard shrugs. "So, okay. Invisible planet."

McKay groans and covers his face with one hand. Ronon lifts an eyebrow.

Sheppard says, "We're not going to run into it, are we? Because I don't think our insurance covers rear-ending a planet."

"Does the Air Force pay extra for wisecracks, Colonel?" Rodney's attention is drawn back to his laptop, though. "Oh, oh, no, you don't. I am smarter than that, whoever you are." His fingers fly over the tiny keys. "I see through you - well, actually, I don't, but - hah! - I can see around you!"

"McKay?" Sheppard drawls.

A hand wave is all he gets this time.

"Not yet, not yet, I'm close, I'm very, very close, I've got — " He stops and frowns. "Huh. Okay, but there's something. I really, really hate to admit it, but it is an invisible planet."

Sheppard grins.

"Don't smirk," McKay says without looking up.

"I'm not smirking."

"You are so, so smirking, Colonel. Waves and waves of smirk radiation are coming off you at this very instant."

"Smirk...radiation?" Sheppard echoes.

"You know what I mean."

Teyla smiles, and a quick glance at Ronon confirms that he looks at least thirty-three percent less stoic.

McKay looks wide-eyed at the apparently empty space in front of the jumper, excitement morphing into amazement. He looks positively radiant, Sheppard thinks to himself. He concentrates on what McKay is saying: "Even the Ancients didn't have anything that could make a planet disappear. I mean, with the ZPM, we can shield the city for a few hours at most. The kind of power source that would let us do that...."

"Okay, point made." Sheppard frowns, trying to figure out how you land on an invisible planet.

"More powerful than a Zero Point Module?" Teyla asks, looking perhaps a little wide-eyed herself.

Sheppard flashes on the last time they ran into something 'better' than a ZPM... "Uh, McKay?"

"Yes?"

"We're not talking about blowing up a solar system again, are we?"

"What!? No!"

"Just checking."

"Though I suppose anything that powerful could be weaponized...."

"And used on the Wraith," Sheppard finishes with a grin, despite himself. He adds, "So, you want to tell me how we get down to the planet, wherever it is, so we can find out why it's invisible?"

"Just, um, okay, let me think."

"You do that."

A blip on his own piloting sensors makes Sheppard blink. The jumper is receiving a radio transmission, in the clear apparently. He switches on the speakers.

*Unidentified Gateship, respond.*

Sheppard turns and looks at McKay, whose mouth has fallen open.

*Unidentified Gateship, this is Hermea Orbital Control, please respond.*

Sheppard activates the jumper's radio, still looking at McKay. "Hermea Orbital Control, this is Jumper One, Lt. Colonel Sheppard in command. We're peaceful traders looking for new partners. Who am I addressing?"

Suddenly, McKay snaps his fingers. "Hah!" he hisses. "Gateship, gateship, gateship."
Sheppard narrows his eyes at him.

*Jumper One, this is Gean.*

"Nice talking to you, Gean."

McKay rolls his eyes, his chin lifting in a patented McKay 'You are too stupid to live, but no one will let me put you out of my misery' posture.

"Say, you wouldn't want to let us in on how you're, you know, not there according to most of our sensors and our eyes, would you?"

He's sure he sees Teyla roll her eyes in the viewport reflection.

*Yet you have deduced our presence.*

"Well, yeah."

*We would consider discussing our technology in exchange for learning of yours, Lt. Col. Sheppard.*

"Yes, absolutely," McKay interrupts.

"That would be our chief scientist, Dr. McKay, speaking, Gean."

*We will provide you with a series of coordinates that will allow your gateship to transit from the stargate orbit to our planet.*

"That'd be swell, Gean." Sheppard switches off the radio and turns to look at Ronon and Teyla. "Okay, they sound friendly enough." Ronon just shrugs. Teyla purses her lips, looking a little surprised. But she says nothing, just inclines her head slightly.

"Why are you asking them?" McKay demands. "You're not even possibly considering not going down to the planet, are you, Colonel? Because this is incredibly, amazingly important. This could be our chance — "

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, McKay. Nobel Prize, save Atlantis, Col. Carter throws herself at your feet in abject adoration."

"Look, just take us down there, Colonel."

"Down where?" Sheppard gestures at the blank sensor read-outs. "I'm waiting for the coordinates."

Just like they were waiting to be remembered, the radio blats and a stream of numbers arrives.

*Lt. Col. Sheppard, this is Gean. Have you received the coordinates?*

"Got them, Gean. Thank you."

*Will your gateship be able to follow the necessary flight path?*

"Oh, yeah, no problem, Gean."

"Gateship," McKay mutters again. "Did you hear that? They call it a gateship. These people may know the Ancients. They could even be Ancients."

"Or they could just lack imagination," Sheppard tells him.

McKay looks indignant and crosses his arms over his chest. "Hmph."

*For your safety, please do not stray from the indicated flight path.*

"Or what?" Ronon rumbles.

McKay replies, "Or they shoot us down with their immensely superior technology."

Ronon leans forward and says, "Fly straight." Teyla gives McKay a little look.

Sheppard ignores all three of them and radios Gean, "Gotcha. Don't want to wander into a no-fly zone."

*You may start your approach at any time, Lt. Col. Sheppard.*

"Beginning suborbital approach now, Gean. See you on the ground," Sheppard tells him. He flips off the radio and adds, "No backseat driving, boys and girls."

Teyla sits up a fraction of an inch straighter. With a smile, Sheppard begins their descent.

It feels weird, yet at the same time like flying by instrument at night or in heavy fog, taking the jumper to set points that don't seem any different than any other part of space — but suddenly they're burning through atmosphere, the jumper's shield interacting with whatever the Hermeans have in a coruscating rainbow halfway between being smack dab in the middle of the aurora borealis and a Fourth of July fireworks extravaganza.

Sheppard ups his speed, taking the jumper through the maneuvers fast just because he can, and because McKay is squeaking beside him.

"Some of us don't have a death-wish, you know, Colonel," McKay manages to say after they drop a few thousand feet more. Suddenly the planet they know is there appears, vast and green, with the sort of blue sky and clear air that never seems to survive industrialization.

Apparently, it impresses McKay, too. "Wow," he says. "It's perfect. Like Paradise."

"You're going to jinx us."

"Look, Colonel, something has to go right sometime. We're due. It's statistically impossible for all of our missions to go wrong."

"It does look serene and peaceful," Teyla comments.

"Most worlds do, from above," Ronon adds.

"Jinx, jinx, jinx," Sheppard sing-songs, then shudders because he knows he picked that up from McKay.

"I'm just saying, this could be very important, so no seducing the high priest-king's nubile but virginal daughter or his lonely wife," McKay says.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Because statistically, Colonel — "

"I can't believe you are using statistics in an argument, McKay," he interrupts. "As if you were ever a believer in probabilities. You beat probabilities all the time."

Sheppard concentrates on staying exactly on the approach path the Hermeans transmitted. He begins searching for a landing strip or pad. After spotting an open meadow set not far from a small group of buildings, he declares, "Looks like a landing pad to me." The buildings are all airy, with spindly white spires that sparkle in the sun.

"I agree," Teyla says, leaning forward to look over his and McKay's shoulders.

McKay peers out the viewport at the towers. "Mmm. Advanced materials. Composites, probably, maybe reinforced ceramics."

A vehicle that doesn't touch the grass or even disturb it is approaching the meadow. Three people are in it.

"You can ask about it in a minute," Sheppard says.

"Don't think I won't."

Sheppard stands up and begins checking his weapons out of habit. Ronon is doing the same thing. He catches a glimpse of steel disappearing into a dreadlock. As usual, Ronon looks ready for anything. "So do we just wait for someone to show up or get out and take a stroll?"

Ronon points to the approaching vehicle. "Looks like a welcoming committee to me."

"You know," Sheppard remarks, dragging McKay out of his seat and away from the laptop he's using to run scans on their surroundings, all the while making these little, nearly orgasmic noises that distract and annoy Sheppard, "It occurs to me that people with advanced technology never want to share it with us."

"Huh," McKay mutters. "Did you ever notice we never want to give any of our technology away to any of the Neanderthal societies we run into regularly?"

"McKay's right," Ronon states. "Everyone wants to keep their edge."

Teyla nods. "The Wraith destroy anyone who progresses too far for just that reason."

"Well, let's hope these people don't think like the Wraith."

"And what are the odds of that?" McKay says under his voice.

"Smile," Sheppard tells him as the jumper's hatch lowers and they stroll out to meet the three Hermeans waiting outside. McKay bares his teeth. It could, possibly, be interpreted as a smile. If you didn't know him. Sheppard lifts his hand and waves. "Best behavior, kids."

"What?" McKay demands. "Why's everyone looking at me?" There is a fleeting expression of doubt in his eyes.

Teyla looks away quickly, but smiles as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Sheppard pats McKay on the shoulder. Ronon just snorts.

One of the Hermeans waves back. Sheppard decides that's a very good sign — in his experience, fascistic military fanatics just generally don't wave. It messes with their whole domineering personae. "So, which approach, McKay?" he murmurs. "The classic 'Take us to your leader' or the — always a hit with the natives — 'We come in peace'?"

"You're asking me?"

Sheppard shrugs, watches the congregation's approach. A man and two women, it seems, all three wearing clothes of a soft-looking fabric in all shades of brown and beige.

"Great, they're wearing oatmeal-colored clothing. Kill me now."

Okay, this is going to be another weird one. "Shh", he hisses at Rodney, "Hey," he says, louder, to the closest Hermean. "Lt. Colonel John Sheppard."

Blue eyes meet his, and a light tenor answers him: "Hello, Lt. Col. Sheppard. I am Gean."

"Good to meet you," Sheppard answers, shaking Gean's hand — a gentle but firm hand; none of that brief, tentative sliding of fingers they've experienced on P9X-241, where a solid handshake turned out to be akin to a marriage proposal.

Gean doesn't look like he takes offense, or a fancy to John, thank God. Still, there's something about him, not the clothing but the man himself. Maybe it's the curious tilt of his head, or the lack of the usual posturing: No wide-legged stance with the hint of a hunch, no hands hovering over weapons, not a single, solitary piece of vaguely phallic insignia. He's just...at ease.

After a quick glance around, Sheppard can see that while their welcome committee consists of both genders, it's no wonder that, from a distance, he isn't able to keep them apart — garments and hairstyles are pretty generic, but he's a California boy, at least at heart, and has seen just about everything, even before he stepped through the stargate. No, it's the tempered grace of the man, the quiet confidence of the women that makes it truly hard.

"Welcome to Hermea, then." A subtle but questioning gaze up and down his figure, over to his team. Sheppard has the distinct feeling that the Hermeans, lined up in a loose formation behind Gean, are regarding them with something other than pure curiosity; despite not even knowing the reason, the sensation that washes over him is far too close to embarrassment.

And that before McKay has even opened his mouth. Speaking of...

"Gean, these are Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, and Dr. Rodney McKay."

The woman next to Gean inclines her head to each of them, but brightens visibly when Sheppard introduces McKay by his title. She's tall and robust and not what Sheppard would call pretty, but there's something undeniably compelling about her. She steps forward and shakes his hand, too, but her eyes — animated brown eyes — only flicker over his; her attention is drawn elsewhere. Without the viewport reflection, Sheppard can't tell without turning and looking, but he hopes Rodney isn't picking his nose or busy digging it into the display of his precious energy sensors.

"My name's Jari, and I'm pleased to meet you. Dr. McKay, you're the chief scientist of your expedition?"

"Why, yes." He can hear the thrilled smile in Rodney's voice, sees it out of the corner of his eye when he and Jari exchange greetings. "You already have me wishing I could spend months here, discussing just the technology and buildings I've seen so far." An all-encompassing hand-wave from Rodney.

Jari gives him a look that's roughly two thirds polite caution, one third benign amusement. "You say you'd love to learn about our technology, but can we assume you're first and foremost interested in how we cloak the planet?"

Sheppard turns a little at that, checking his team — Teyla's looking her usual calm and amiable self, but there's a hint of tension in the arc of her shoulders, and Ronon's eyes have narrowed a fraction. McKay, well, McKay just grins and dips his head in a gesture that would be called bashful in anyone but him.

"Oh, believe me, I am completely fascinated by everything you have to offer — which seems to be a level of scientific achievement beyond my wildest dreams in a galaxy where local developments tend to be either hopelessly backwards or destroyed beyond hope — but the rest of my team do indeed have certain priorities that include the ability to defend ourselves against the threat of the Wraith."

Bless Rodney and his technology-loving heart.

"I have to ask — is it just a cloak or a shield? Can it stop the Wraith?" Rodney goes on, sweeping everything before him with his enthusiasm. "The jumpers have a cloak that we've modified, but the energy it takes precludes generating a shield at the same time, and the Wraith know where our planet is, it's just a matter of time until they come back — "

"McKay," Sheppard interrupts quietly, not wanting to discuss the siege.

Jari nods slowly; so does Gean, whose voice has taken a grave tone.

"They are still the scourge of the galaxy, then."

Rodney's snaps his fingers, startling them all. "Of course — you haven't been in contact with the outside world for many centuries." He stops, an indignant look creeping onto his face. "Come on, guys, it's obvious: This sort of technological advancement could only happen over centuries without regular culling. Did you de-activate the stargate after creating the cloaking device?"

The third Hermean has stepped closer, exchanges glances with Jari and Gean. The newcomer is older than the other two, with dark skin and short hair turned silver by the light of the afternoon sun. It's impossible to guess her exact age, but Sheppard would estimate it at sixty, maybe seventy years. She must have been very beautiful once upon a time; he still finds himself transfixed by the perfect slant of her cheekbones, the authority of her eyes.

"No, Dr. McKay. We simply transferred it into orbit."

It's clear from the expression on Rodney's face that he doesn't think there is any 'simply' about it, and Sheppard doesn't have to turn his head to know that Teyla's expression has darkened, Ronon's grip on his holster tightened. An active stargate memorized by other people on other planets who would keep stepping through it even when it was no longer located on the planet's surface —

"You think this cruel, but it was the only way."

Not an excuse. An explanation.

"We could not and would not de-activate the stargate; the primary objective was to make sure the Wraith would not return to Hermea. I'm sure you, of all people, understand."

"We understand." Teyla's voice is soft, so soft that Sheppard braces himself. "Certainly you understand, too, that we find it hard to condone."

He suspects he knows what she sees in her mind's eye — a contingent of Athosian traders, men and women with baskets of produce on their hips and cheerful smiles on their faces, walking into the gate.

Into nothingness, the empty void of space.

Silence falls, and Sheppard is seized by a wild moment of anxiety — this is where it ends, this is where they get chucked off the planet because Teyla, ever-tolerant Teyla, has voiced scruples about a decision made hundreds of fucking years ago.

"Yes, we do." It's Gean who has spoken up again, and if the emotion in his voice isn't regret, he's the best damn actor Sheppard's ever seen. "It was — it wasn't an easy choice for our nations."

"The congregation of all nations was aware of the fact we were sacrificing the lives of some, and leaving others without valuable resources, but the Decision hinged upon complete secrecy."

Jari's light voice, weighed down by the burden of history, and the rest of the committee is wearing similar expressions. If this isn't some gigantic sham to fool the off-worlders — and he doesn't believe that — they really mean it. They really are sorry.

Ronon's breath close to his ear, perfectly pitched to be heard by no one but him. "Sheppard. If we had to? We'd've done the same."

He really doesn't need the reminder, but it's good to know he's not alone in his assessment; one glance at Rodney confirms that Rodney doesn't have any lasting hang-ups about this, either. Mostly, he looks perplexed and a little impatient.

"Fine, fine." Rodney's hand gesture is best described as magnanimous. "We certainly see how you'd come to this solution, which also happened to be decided upon many centuries ago."

Not exactly a poster child for Let the Past Lie, he is, but then there's Teyla, standing right next to Rodney with a light hand on his arm, smiling and composed again. Sheppard realizes he's probably not the only one already won over by the Hermeans' openness and their sincere expression of regret over what they considered a necessity. Teyla doesn't seem the type to forget, but he's pretty sure she can forgive.

"What Dr. McKay means to say is that now we should look forward, into the future, and ask you to consider letting our peoples enter a mutually fruitful exchange of technology and information." Teyla's voice hasn't risen, not even a bit, but it is clear she has no trouble being heard by every person in the meadow. Easy to see what makes her stand out, what made him take note the moment he saw her first in that smoke-filled tent on Athos. "We can assure you that no third party will ever learn of your existence; we ourselves have many safeguards in place — safeguards that prevent the acquisition of knowledge and wisdom of ours that would be devastating in less capable, less careful hands."

The Hermean congregation regards her — thoughtful faces, inquisitive eyes, a few doubts clouding a few expressions, but the common denominator is respect.

"Well-said."

No trace of irony in the elder woman's voice, but Sheppard has hardly found that a reliable indicator for the absence of trouble; in fact, it's often the opposite. People are just too damn serious in the Pegasus galaxy. Sheppard knows he's being unfair, but he cannot and doesn't really want to imagine living on an Earth in the constant shadow of the Wraith; evidence to the contrary, he does cherish his sanity.

"Also, I apologize for the lack of an introduction: Selh, Security Adviser to the President. I, too, find myself glad to make your acquaintance, Teyla Emmagan, Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard, and Ronon Dex. As you pointed out so correctly, we haven't had any visitors for a long, long time."

Her dark eyes sweep over them, but the earlier feeling — mene, mene tekel epharsim — has evaporated, and Sheppard relaxes just a little. Ronon's behind him, as always, Teyla's done a great job, and McKay never lost the glint of excitement in his eyes; he's positively beaming at Jari again, who doesn't seem to think it a crime to smile back. Sheppard feels an odd twinge in the region of his stomach — worry, that's what it is, and maybe concern — as alien women have made friendly with McKay only to betray them all and dash his hopes before, and maybe Rodney needs a little reminder, just among friends.

A soft whisper passes between Gean, Jari, and Selh, and they nod towards the team. "If you allow us to convene for a moment — we shall be back."

"Oh, of course! We'll wait. Right here!"

Rodney sounds pleased as pie, but it doesn't seem entirely out of place. Kidding aside, it's not entirely true that McKay is oblivious to his surroundings; he's noticed the shift in their favor and is now practically radiating good will to all men. A smile tugs at the corners of Sheppard's mouth and he gives in to it. Rodney's cheer is infectious, irresistible, and when he looks at the others, he can see his expression mirrored on their faces, with an additional dose of relief in Teyla's case and careful acceptance in Ronon's.

"So, what do you think, guys?"

"I think they will at least begin negotiations with us." Teyla is modest, but she knows her skills — all of them do.

"Totally won them over. They quite obviously both harbor and appreciate a thirst for science." Yeah, he wouldn't be Rodney if he weren't just a little smug at this point. Any more enthusiasm, and he'd be bouncing on his heels.

"So, destined to be best friends forever, Rodney?"

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy there, Colonel?"

Still the same light tone of banter that's become an automated response for both of them, but upon hearing that word, Sheppard feels it again — the sensation in his stomach, sinking, rising, a bit like flying, only far more terrifying. He clamps down on it, ruthlessly, and manages to smile, all white teeth and careless flyboy ease.

"Now, McKay, don't make me drag up the Kirk thing. And you know what happened the last time you had a girl all impressed with your science."

Rodney just rolls his eyes, looking decidedly unimpressed himself.

"Oh, please. Allina only changed her plans when she learned we weren't the Ancients she had been waiting for; her love for science and affection for me then had to be tragically sacrificed on the altar of patriotism." McKay doesn't look entirely serious himself, although his eyes clearly telegraph Don't You Dare Call Me on That, Okay?

Gean's waving them back over.

"Please, we would like you to join us in the city, to continue talking with each other. It has been a long time since anyone came to Hermea." He smiles. "We're out of practice."

"Believe me, you're already way ahead on points with us," Rodney tells him, earning a slightly confused look from Gean.

"Let's just say a lot of people we meet are just plain unfriendly," Sheppard explains.

Gean nods.

McKay has to stop and interrogate Jari about the car and how much weight it can bear without reverting to surface locomotion, comparing the technology to that of the jumpers use, but after that hitch, they're off to the sparkly city; Selh, Gean and Jari in the front seat and the team jammed in the back. Teyla's perched on Ronon's lap, and Sheppard, stuck between McKay and them, on eye level with Teyla's assets, wishes they'd just walked instead. He swears to himself he'll make Ronon run behind the car on the way back.

Teyla leans over and says in a low voice, "I believe the Hermeans are indeed the people of the Lost Planet."

McKay twists to face her and Ronon turns and Sheppard gets elbows in his ribs on both sides. "Ouch, watch it, guys."

"Wait, let me get this straight," McKay exclaims. "You knew about these people and, what's more important, their...planetary obfuscation device?"

Teyla shakes her head.

"Teyla?"

"I had heard the stories they tell around each campfire, hearth, or...radiator in the Pegasus galaxy, Colonel – tales of the Lost Planet, impossible to see, impossible to reach despite their Circle of the Ancestors."

Ronon nods. "Sateda had those tales. Thought they were kids' stories."

Sheppard closes his eyes for just the fraction of a heartbeat. Yeah, it'd have been nice to have heard of this when they first came to Atlantis — superior technology and especially a cloaking device might have prevented quite a bit of trouble during the last year — but even then, most likely they wouldn't have listened to it, wouldn't have sifted through Athosian lore in search for clues.

But, he thinks, maybe they should have.

"I see. So you — and all your allies — never traded with them?"

"Legend says our peoples did — a long, long time ago, many centuries by your calculations, and that the civilization they saw was benign and full of wonders. But it disappeared, and their marvelous devices were lost in the sands of time, leaving only the echo of their memory."

"Disappeared? You mean, you just couldn't step through the gates any more." McKay sounds skeptical, disbelief obvious in his voice, and Sheppard doesn't blame him, but Teyla's voice carries a note of annoyance.

"There were civilizations of the Pegasus galaxy able to travel through space, Rodney, and they did not use technology left by the Ancestors but what they had developed themselves before the Wraith came and culled them," Teyla tells him in measured tones. "It is said they manned their starcrafts and journeyed to the place where they had last regarded such riches — but all they could see was an empty void, stars behind it clearly visible, and their machines did not pick up anything. And the Wraith started raging on the planets nearby, angrier than ever, never again finding the rich bounty they'd hoped for."

It comes as a slight shock, but McKay laughs, and all heads turn towards him, even Selh and Jari in the front seat. His eyes widen, and he does the little hand-wave – nearly hitting Sheppard in the head again – he uses to deflect completely unwarranted criticism. "C'mon, guys – Sheppard, anyway: Advanced civilization, great wonders, far ahead of their time certainly, getting lost in some murky depths? It's their Atlantis!"

Sheppard leans back and laughs, while Ronon and Teyla eye both McKay and him the way they do whenever the topic of Earth customs comes up. Like they're batshit crazy, but in an amusing way. He looks back at McKay's frown and laughs harder; because, hey, they live in the Lost City of the Ancients and they're riding in a floating car, whizzing over the green grass of an invisible planet, debating whether it really is Teyla's Lost World.

Rodney's eyes have lit up like a Christmas tree on Times Square. He's talking full tilt to Jari before they're even out of the car, while Sheppard's still getting his breath back after being squeezed in the middle through the whole ride. "Look, I realize you can't just show us how your cloak works right this very instant, but you have to have something you can show me in the mean time, while we go through this whole 'getting to know you' rigmarole." He's doing the side-to-side head nod-bob of impatience as he talks and Gean already looks a little overwhelmed. Jari's smiling again, though; it looks like she's one of McKay's tribe.

"Yes, we have several facilities that are open to the public that we could begin with," Gean says. "If you and Teyla Emmagan would care to accompany Jari and myself? Selh would be happy to show your friends around the city."

"Yes, yes, I am – we would be delighted," McKay agrees before Sheppard has a chance to say anything.

"Hey, McKay," Sheppard calls after him, because he's already following Jari away. McKay half-turns, looking impatient, and still walking. "Try not to give our world away for a handful of magic beans."

Watching Teyla and Rodney being whisked away by Gean and Jari, respectively, is okay – surprisingly so. He finds he trusts the Hermeans, despite the man-woman uniformity thing they have going. Quite possibly because of it.

Sheppard isn't stupid; there's no reason to assume the three Hermeans are as unarmed as they appear to be – hell, for all he knows, there's a pin-point orbital laser directed straight at them right now – but he is confident that the Hermeans have little interest in unprovoked violence. Furthermore, an attack on what looks like sparsely armed explorers? Not likely, and not likely to succeed. Can't outrun a Runner, Ronon had – after a long jog and a short sparring session in a rare moment of aphoristic chattiness – told him, and Sheppard believed it, still believes it.

When he turns, he can see Selh's private little smile, which tells him orthodontia is flourishing on this planet.

"I assure you Teyla Emmagan and Dr. McKay are perfectly safe. It must be very reassuring to have you protect them, though, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for your profession."

Sheppard's a big fan of safe. He'd go as far as to say he vastly prefers it to sorry.

Behind him, Ronon snorts almost inaudibly, and Sheppard is tempted to do the same. He's not a stickler for the rules, or even a big fan of many manifestations of the USAF regime, but the last sentence is the kind he's only ever heard as the preface of an anti-military rant poorly disguised as academic argument.

"Yeah, thanks." He gives her a smile of his own, slow and easy, just the way he's good at, and turns his comm to Rodney and Teyla on, a gesture that could be a half-yawn but most likely isn't even noticed. At the same time, he's flashing back to a nose-dive down a mountain range, the howl of turbines, the stony expression on General Bennett's face and contrasting it with Elizabeth's pushing through his promotion, piloting jumpers and 302s instead of Blackhawks and Ospreys, people who thought he was a hero and not a fuck-up. "I'm really liking it."

Selh gives them the tour guide lecture on Hermean history as they walk. Dismantled their military in 1542, Deran Peace Convention, and Sheppard nods. Ronon asks about trouble and Selh admits there is some, usually settled in court. Sheppard's even willing to believe it. Provisionally. He lets Ronon go on quizzing her, half his attention on the buzz of McKay's voice in his earpiece, nasal, excited, and oddly reassuring.

Sparkly city is really clean and pretty up close too, with lots of flowers and trees and people wearing clothing noticeably more gaudy and revealing – but Sheppard supposes that in comparison to Gean, Selh, and Jari's Earth Mother attire, basically everything would be. A few of the passersby give Sheppard and Ronon wall-eyed looks. He feels like asking Ronon if he has 'Murderous Military Maniac' tattooed anywhere visible, but bites his tongue. Selh seems a little at a loss as to what might interest them since the Hermeans don't have any guns for them to moon over the way McKay is going into transports over their power plant.

Gardens, schools, museums, academies...Selh seems intent on improving their minds with culture. Ronon is obviously getting tired, begins to drag his feet when they pass what their Hermean guide says is a library and what Sheppard mentally categorizes as Bright White Building with Spiraling Pillars #32. His own face is getting tired of smiling. He never thought he'd miss discussing the Wraith threat, but at least it's something everyone else in Pegasus has in common. Except for Proculus, and he's not even thinking about Proculus and Chaya – McKay has some kind of sensors that alert him any time Sheppard's thoughts go there and he's unbearable for a week afterward.

Meanwhile, Selh's gently quizzing him, trying to get a handle on what they're really like, he suspects.

"And your home?" she asks.

"Is beautiful," Sheppard answers before thinking about it. Then he pauses, because he wasn't picturing Earth when he said that. Slower, he continues, "Mostly ocean, untouched, unexplored or exploited. Teyla's people resettled on the mainland. We live in the city, which is...." He stops and shrugs, picturing Atlantis' towers and comparing them to the Hermeans' spires. "It's home."

Selh pauses. "I see."

At least it sounds like McKay's making some progress. "Right, right, I got it. Seriously this time: Fortitude of character, the responsibility to handle the new, the complete openness for new developments. Oh, I can tell you we are totally down with that; our whole expedition was chosen on these merits – yes, absolutely; I've interviewed them myself and can vouch for all of them." Sheppard has to hide a smile. Rodney is so proud of his scientists, hand-picked from the best and brightest; it's true that there is little to fear and a lot to hope for once they get their hands on technology such as this. Another careless swat at a bug that doesn't exist, and he's on Teyla's frequency.

"But surely you would not want to keep us from understanding as well, from reaching the same level of enlightenment?" It sounds like Teyla is working her negotiating magic on Gean.

Sheppard expresses admiration and approval of the Advanced Studies Center – purple tower, the Planetary and Local Judiciary Complex, which includes the North and Main Rethan Houses of Representatives – blue domes that make him think of a clutch of Easter Eggs in one of those baskets of artificial green grass, the Primary Health Center – which has a pastel plaid exterior that makes him blink and look sidelong at Ronon, and then – finally – real civilization: a restaurant and then a beer garden, or at least the local equivalent.Suddenly, Ronon looks interested.

"Food?"

Sheppard shrugs at Selh. "He's still a growing boy."

Selh takes them into one of the restaurants and Sheppard restricts himself to one – excellent – beer, while Ronon devours his meal in typical enthusiastic fashion, though he's slowed down by using a knife and fork these days. The food is enough to make Sheppard want to trade with Hermeans and McKay's going to be outraged he missed it. He asks Selh to get a message to whoever is with McKay not to feed him any citrus. "Believe me, usually McKay lets everyone in hearing distance know, but if he's entranced enough with what you've got for him to see, he might forget."

Selh is looking at him almost warmly, maybe even re-evaluating her ideas of what being military means. It would be nice if they could get back to Atlantis for once with news that they made a good impression. "Food allergies are not unknown here," she mentions. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll comm Gean." She leaves them to finish their meal without her.

"Oh, I am not a part of the original expedition," Teyla's telling someone. "I hail from a central planet and am proud to have led my people to a safe land, into an unbreakable alliance with the Colonel and Doctor McKay's people."

Huh.

He takes advantage of the moment to ask Ronon, "What do you think?"

"Food's good."

Sheppard resists the urge to cuff the back of his head the way he would McKay. First, because it probably wouldn't look good to the Hermeans who are watching them, second because all of those dreadlocks would probably keep Ronon from even feeling it, and last, because Ronon would run him into the ground the next time they exercise.

He monitors the other team members while he eats. "They have, indeed. Ronon Dex does also not come from among them, and yet he was accepted into their ranks." Selh's coming back, threading her way through the tables. One group wants to speak with her, but he can see her put them off with a few short words. "I believe in them. No one else in many generations has been willing stand against the Wraith." Okay, from her tone, talks with Gean are still going swimmingly. Time to check on McKay again. "Oh, exactly, exactly. Progress, in the end. Couldn't agree more, yes! What's that? I didn't quite catch what you were saying – that sentence about the – ? Ah, a test? Wait, wait, wait, we're being tested? Before we can truly, er, get the cloak? Completion, what's that? No, never mind, this power coupling you're using – "

Wait a second, Sheppard thinks. What? Test? He's frowning as Selh seats herself again, saying, "When you're ready, we can visit – "

"Let's leave something for the next time we're here," Sheppard suggests. "I'd kind of like to get back with Teyla and McKay." Before McKay creates another interstellar incident . He gives his best self-deprecating grin, even dips his eyes down like he's embarrassed. "They're probably wondering what kind of trouble Ronon and I have gotten into."

"No, no, please! This is fine, just perfect, really, only – is it the painless sort or the Trial by Fire kind? Because the latter just doesn't agree with me ever since the natives on P2H-243 took that concept way too literally –" McKay's babbling. Sheppard doesn't cock his head to listen, but he pays closer attention. P2H-243 was a nightmare involving a single file bridge over a lava-filled chasm, sparks, smoke, and poisonous gases venting from yet another volcano. He really dislikes volcanoes. Not as much as bugs, but they were definitely in his top ten. "Painless, over in about an hour? And afterwards, we're definitely, definitely in for the cloak? Yes. Yes, I certainly give my permission! We – oh, of course, yes, I'll consult with Teyla and tell Sheppard and Dex, but really? No problem. Hah, we're already in there, practically."

And they are; it doesn't take long until their return. Gean, Jari, and Selh give them a moment of privacy on the way to the Med Center, strolling ahead and talking quietly among themselves, but considering that both McKay and, most importantly, Teyla have succeeded in convincing them and have already given their okay for a little round of testing, Sheppard feels no compunction to be contrary for the sake of protocol. Yeah, it stings a little – the Hermeans have little consideration, or maybe no real understanding for the military, not any more – but what's gained if he insists on going over the details again? Especially now that they are already standing in a waiting room diffused with golden light that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"I'll go first."

Right, that's Ronon for you, who occasionally has to be told more than once. More than twice, too.

"Hey. No matter what the Hermeans think, I'm the leader; I should go and, you know, test the testing procedure first."

"Hmm." Rodney gives him a little smirk. "I'm sure they will be impressed by your manly bravery. It must be as scary as – oh, say, the utterly fearsome Atlantis health scanner with its blue glow of wrath. This clearly takes a hero like you."

Sometimes, McKay needs, desperately, to be whacked upside the head, and Sheppard happens to have a very giving nature – but Teyla steps forward, touches a finger to his upper arm.

"Ronon and I can go first; Gean told me we can go in by pairs, and he was very impressed by the fact half of our team does not even consist of Atlanteans. That we make such an effort for our newly chosen friends and extended family – I think it will be another beneficial gesture on our part. After we've gone ahead, you and Rodney can follow. It really does not seem to be dangerous; I fail to see any malice in these people."

Oh, for God's sake. "They could not be human, their machines incompatible."

"Colonel. Please. I checked when we first got out of the jumper." Rodney's grin is disturbingly satisfied. "One hundred percent human DNA, no unusual mutations. No Ancients, either, if that's what you were thinking. Just good old homo sapiens stock."

"Fine." A commander must be able to admit defeat. He nods at Ronon and Teyla, who are already turning to follow the Hermeans. "But we'll wait right outside, and you keep your comms."

Teyla smiles in return, and Ronon gives them a brief nod.

"Be right back, Sheppard."

~*~

The longer he stays on the planet, the more Rodney realizes the Hermeans might very well become his favorite kind of people: truly interested in the hard sciences and intelligent enough to use them not only for abstract advancement but practical manifestations. There's the planetary cloak, of course – just the thought sends silver streamers of excitement along his synapses – but a waiting room chair that smoothly molds itself according to the shape of your body and intuitively takes the strain off your bad back? He tends to be reluctant to use the word in conjunction with people not himself, but really, it's a work of genius.

Sheppard in the chair next to him would agree, if his lazy, blissful sprawl is any indication. It's too much effort to turn his head, so Rodney just keeps watching him – not a strain, that much is true. Rodney has found the clean, angular lines of his body, the face with its ever-expressive eyebrows, and even the hair – to which the colonel clearly devotes two-thirds of his morning routine – a pleasing distraction and the whole package actually a bit of a challenge.

Now, for example, when he looks closer, he can tell that, while Sheppard seems perfectly at ease, there's still a palpable sense of anticipation about him, maybe even a hint of worry. Rodney is actually familiar with the concept of responsibility; it's just that some people just don't understand the difficulty in walking the line between pushing subordinates to greater achievements and pushing them over the edge.

Sheppard looks up, his expression freezes, and he jack-knife twists out of the chair and to his feet before Rodney can even turn his head. Then he does. He's on his feet, gaping at the doorway, in less than a second. "Oh my fucking God. Look – look at that!!"

Next to him, Sheppard draws in a sharp breath and socks him in the arm.

"Rodney, what the f– shut up!"

Yes, like that's a natural reaction to the vision slowly stepping out of the door at the other end of the room. It's – Rodney blinks rapidly – Ronon, only...not quite.

"What do you expect me to do, Colonel? Blithely ignore the fact a member of our team has been turned into Xena, Warrior Princess?" Rodney can't stop staring; if he wasn't talking, his mouth would be hanging open. "Oh my God." Because the smirk's the same, a lopsided smile that crinkles the corners of the eyes —

"Rodney. Pick your jaw up off the floor, now."

"But — hot!" A six-foot-six, beautifully toned woman with long hair that falls down almost to the small of her back – Ronon shifts and Rodney wants to whimper at the flash of caramel skin. "Oh, would you look at that...."

"Rodney! You realize this is Ronon we're talking about, right? He can hear you." Sheppard's gone very, very still but his voice has that little crack it gets when he's really disturbed and trying to cover it, the one that makes Rodney want to duck because usually it involves someone shooting at them very soon.

"Rononne?" Rodney blinks. "He?"

"That's it, McKay." The temperature drops, just a little. "Still a member of my team who's standing there. Why don't you stay right here while I talk to Ronon?"

Yes, of course. Whatever. "Fine, fine, no need to bark."

Sheppard's slow, menacing drawl of "McKay...." is interrupted by the door opening again. Up to this moment, a small part of Rodney's brain has held onto – okay, yes, clung to – the possibility that all of this was a shared moment of madness – folie à deux, Pegasus-style — but Teyla's arrival makes it very, very apparent that the female version of Ronon hovering by the door to welcome his team-mate is anything but a freak accident.

Well, freak, maybe. Accident, no. When everything falls into place, Rodney's stomach follows, a nauseatingly rolling motion.

"Rodney?" Sheppard's voice is quiet, but the tone is fierce, fiercer than he's heard in a while. "Harmless test, my ass."

Rodney's first reaction is the realization that Sheppard must indeed be pretty angry to lose his unflappable space-cowboy ease, the second a far-too-familiar wave of guilt, and the third – he sneaks a glance over at said body part on Ronon, who has turned fully towards the door: Rodney's only human, and male to boot.

Looks like he's got new company in the latter regard. Sure, Teyla's still her graceful-looking Athosian self, but there's no mistaking the broad shape of her shoulders and upper arms, the new angle of her jaw-line, the hips even slimmer than her previous set. Not to mention the lack of boobs; Rodney feels an oddly personal pang of shock at that.

"Do not look at me like this – I did not chose this...this alteration!"

There's a decidedly agitated note in Teyla's words. Rodney doesn't know if it's just the fact that her register has dropped into baritone, but without melody to temper her usual precision, Teyla sounds forceful enough to send a sick rush of combined fear and shame through Rodney.

"Hey. Easy," Sheppard's saying, crossing the room fast; Rodney follows, "We got it. We got it, Teyla." Soft, soothing even, if you chose to ignore the undertone. Sheppard is by Ronon's and Teyla's sides – close, but not touching, hands held out in a gesture that manages to convey acceptance, surrender, and proposal at once. "Let's all step over there to regroup; I don't feel like making a spectacle for the natives right now."

Very different from all the other times, then, but Rodney doesn't even have to bite his tongue. This probably isn't the time for his brand of sarcasm, and it isn't like any of them try to turn their missions into disasters. It just happens. Frequently. Mutely, he follows Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla back to the chairs.

"There has been a misunderstanding, and they did this to me, shaped my female body into a man's. We must go and rectify the situation immediately."

Teyla's eyes have narrowed, and there's a visible flush on her cheeks; for someone who could usually give the Mona Lisa pointers, she – he – is telegraphing a lot of emotion. None of it, absolutely none of it positive.

Sparing a glance sideways, Rodney looks at Ronon; unlike Teyla with her tense, wide stance and her hands curled into loose fists, the Satedan is leaning against the wall, one hip hitched up just so he can half-sit on the low ledge, showing off a gratuitous expanse of stomach and leg. If Rodney did that, it'd be called slouching and earn him a raised eyebrow, but Ronon-as-a-girl resembles nothing so much as a cat of prey, at once perfectly relaxed and ready to pounce.

Sheppard manages to look Teyla square in the eye, although he licks his lips nervously.

"So, you – first, are you okay, both of you? Any pain? Trouble moving?"

Ronon shakes his head, dreads – why are there still dreads? Makes no scientific sense – swaying gently, and although it shouldn't, the new pitch of his voice startles Rodney.

"I'm fine, Sheppard. No need to worry about me."

The implication is clear. They all shift, turn to Teyla. She – he – still looks amazing, like some too-pretty-to-be-real comic book character come to life; it's ridiculous.

"Teyla?"

Sheppard's still doing this thing where he's all gentle, eyes dark and intense. Rodney realizes yes, he might just be a bit of an insensitive jerk for paying more attention to the colonel than to his team-mate in the midst of a very slow-burning, very tightly controlled freak-out. He gets the freak-out. He'd be kicking and screaming loud enough to communicate with the Atlantis control room without electronic help. It's not everyday you suddenly find yourself missing body parts you're attached to, in more ways than one.

"I am –" she, he hesitates, eyes darting around the room without settling on any of them, and that alone makes Rodney feel vaguely unwell again. "I am not in pain, nor do I experience any difficulties with my movement. After waking up in that – room, I made sure to check my most essential responses."

"Good." Sheppard's look says very, very clearly that this situation is anything but. He prompts, "McKay? Teyla?"

He's crossed his arms, looks back and forth between the two of them, and for once, Rodney finds it almost impossible to read his expression. Or perhaps he doesn't really want to. Rodney gulps and stays quiet.

"No need to discuss the fact the Hermeans' 'test' went a little further than a physical exam." Sheppard's eyes do not linger on Teyla's body at all when he says that; instead, he stares at a spot equidistant between her – him – and Rodney.

"What we do need to know right now is what exactly they told you in these meandering conversations about science, religion, and philosophy." So much disdain in so few words. Seems that Rodney can still learn from the colonel. "So, yeah — I'd love to hear why half my team just had a sex change!"

Teyla speaks first, her hands unclenching slowly, if a little jerkily. Her voice is flat but dutiful; it belongs to a soldier turning in his report for a mission gone to hell in the proverbial handbasket.

"I am afraid I am partly to blame for this. When Gean talked about the prerequisite of change in order to gain enlightenment and be given control over the cloaking technology we sought so fervently, I foolishly assumed this process was a purely spiritual one, that his numerous reminders about a willingness to accept and embrace the new were entirely metaphorical."

"McKay?"

He takes a deep breath and lifts his chin. Might as well preserve that last shred of dignity. "There was a lot of talk about personal responsibility, courage, and personal growth, all of which I can assure you are nothing I haven't heard before in a million application interviews."

Sheppard's eyes darken, but not in any pleasant way.

"I do recall there was a definite mention of the procedure we'd have to undergo, though," Rodney admits. He replays what Jari said. "A test. Exam, like a physical. Something like that."

"Hardly the same as, oh, say, a genderswitch, wouldn't you agree, McKay?"

"Tell me, Colonel, did you take a look around and think, hey, it's the Planet of Sex Changes?" Rodney jerks his head toward Teyla, dropping his voice. "If Teyla didn't catch what was going on, why would you expect me to?"

Sheppard grimaces and shoots an uncomfortable look toward Gean and Jari and Selh, all watching them from the other side of the room. Great. He's clearly gearing up to shoulder the blame. And there goes the lip-lick. "Okay, you're right, I'm in command, this is – "

"Oh, for the love of little apples, you weren't even there!"

Sheppard sighs. "Any brilliant ideas about what we do now?"

Teyla glares at the Hermeans until Ronon steps between them. He – she – moves like something liquid, that loose sweater slipping off one shoulder as Ronon shrugs. "Calm down first."

"I say we get out of here right now before they decide to turn some of us into frogs or mice or trees next!" Rodney can hear his voice rising against his will.

Sheppard locks his hand on Rodney's biceps, fingers warm through his sleeve. "McKay."

"What?"

"We need to find out if it's permanent."

What? Teyla looks horrified and even Ronon appears mildly disturbed by the prospect of being, well, stuck. Deep breaths, Rodney tells himself. You are standing in the middle of a field – Oh, that's just stupid, he'd probably be having an asthma attack in the middle of a field! – You are standing in the middle of your lab in Atlantis. Much better. Sheppard's staring at him, doing the eye-thing like he expects Rodney to know exactly what he's thinking. Rodney sucks in another breath and starts thinking again. Atlantis, labs, Carson.... Oh, crap, like Carson would have the faintest idea how to fix this.

"Right, right, we can't just run away, even if I am positive Beckett could find a way to fix this." He offers a weak smile to Teyla along with the lie.

Teyla draws in a deep breath and Rodney misses her old body all over again. Teyla's deep breaths were always appreciated by the rest of the team.

"Beckett'll do everything he can, Teyla," Sheppard assures him. Him. That's never going to stop being strange. "You know that. But if we could get a little more information for him to work from...?"

"Yes," Teyla agrees grudgingly. "That would be useful."

"Okay, let's just get this...misunderstanding straightened out," Sheppard says with a false smile. "McKay, you stay with Ronon. Teyla?"

"I will accompany you, Colonel." There's a glint in Teyla's dark eyes that hasn't changed at all. Rodney's pretty glad he's not a Hermean right now.

He shares a glance with Ronon, who quirks a brow, then they both follow Sheppard and Teyla across the room in time to hear: "Problem, guys, big problem for us."

"You are disturbed by the new sexes of your friends?" Selh is asking Sheppard.

Sheppard scrubs at his hair, looking distracted and frustrated. "No offense, but this just wasn't what any of us were expecting."

"I did not agree to this," Teyla adds.

Now the Hermeans are looking disturbed and upset. "We believed you understood that this is the first step, that only through Enlightenment and Completion can you share the secrets of the Cloak."

"We thought it was a metaphor," Rodney says.

"Some kind of philosophy."

"This is...we apologize," Gean says.

"Yes, yes," Rodney dismisses that. It's irrelevant. "I'm sure you're very sorry, but Ronon and Teyla are a little more interested in whether they're going be switched the rest of their lives."

Sheppard gives him a dark look. "Maybe if you gave them time to explain?" Charming Smile Number Eight, the one with the unspoken You Will Do This Because I'm in Command, is flashed at Gean. "So, you know, explanations are good. Everybody – and I mean every body – goes back to the way they were, no hard feelings, right?"

"You can switch them back, right?" Rodney adds. There's no logical reason it would be a one-way process. The Hermeans can obviously change either sex, so reversing the process shouldn't be a problem. He's still holding his breath, though.

"The process can be reversed," Gean says. He still looks upset.

Rodney rubs his hands together. "Good. Let's get to it. Chop, chop, people."

"It is not that simple." Gean's looking even more upset, holding up his hands and giving entreating looks to Selh. That might be because Sheppard has his hand on his holstered pistol and is fingering the release strap. Rodney could tell him that Sheppard's pistol's like Sheppard's pacifier, but it probably wouldn't reassure Gean. "Please. It cannot be done for at least six months. The body is too stressed and needs time to recover."

"Stressed? Stressed how?" Rodney demands.

"It takes a great deal of energy to remake all the cells, some of which is supplied by the body itself."

Ronon cocks her head and stretches a little. "Feel kind of tired."

"You said you were okay," Sheppard snaps.

"Tired is okay. I can still fight."

Jari nods. "It's always that way for a day or two after a change."

"Ah, um," Rodney gulps and blurts out, "You do this regularly?"

"Of course," Jari says. "How can one be an adult without the knowledge of both sexes? Each of us undergoes Completion at least once after puberty." She smiles at him, looking a little dreamy. "I much prefer the female form, but I have been male at least twice, while working on projects where the extra muscle mass was useful."

"That's certainly...interesting." Sheppard looks a little curious. Here comes lip-lick number two. Rodney is just grateful he didn't mention wanting to ask Jari out. He'd never hear the end of it. Very grateful. Only he wishes he'd been paying a little more attention, because he really doesn't like that speculative, nervous glint in Sheppard's eyes.

"It has been too long since we interacted with anyone from anywhere beyond our planet," Selh says. "The misunderstanding is very embarrassing – "

Teyla lets out a little hiss, steam escaping from an overheating kettle, but Ronon touches his shoulder and he subsides. Rodney notices for the first time the Hermeans supplied Teyla and Ronon with modified versions of their clothes that fit their new forms. Which means Teyla isn't wearing a purple midi-top stretched too tight over her broader chest and shoulders. There's no explanation for the oversize of Ronon's sweater, but there never was before, either.

Sheppard waves a hand. "These things happen." His voice is at odds with the hard expression in his eyes that says he's sick of them happening to his people.

"These things happen?" Rodney repeats under his breath, wondering again about Sheppard's sanity. There's blasé and then there's lobotomized. Sheppard's faking, the bastard; no way is even he that cool.

Sheppard ignores him.

"You will need to return once, in six months, and we will restore Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex to their previous states," Selh finishes. "I am personally deeply sorry for this. I hoped we would be able to teach you."

"I get this feeling, there's no way we're getting the cloak technology without all of us going through this, what did you call it?"

"Completion," Selh supplies.

"Completion." Sheppard nods.

"It is impossible without undergoing the first step." That's Gean. "Without Completion there is no Enlightenment."

"Okay, let's not jump the gun," Sheppard says. "Why not just give us another minute here? This – " he gestures to Teyla and Ronon, " – was a bit of a shock. Maybe we can still work something out."

"Of course," Gean replies.

"Oh, no, no way," McKay tells him before they're even out of earshot. "No, no, and no again!"

Teyla actually interrupts to say, "Colonel, you are not really contemplating – "

Sheppard holds up his hand. "Everyone shut up for a minute." Once they're in the corner, he scrubs at his face. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but...maybe we should go through with this."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"McKay," Ronon rumbles, which sounds very strange coming from the hot girl body, but just as menacing.

"What am I saying? Of course, you're out of your mind. You always have been. But this is, this is, there are no words for the insanity. You want me to let aliens give me a sex change!?" Rodney crosses his arms and glares at Sheppard. Only Sheppard would ever consider this, but he can just forget it as far as Rodney is concerned.

"Not just you, Rodney," Sheppard points out. He looks faintly green. "And you said they were one hundred percent human."

"That was before."

"Can I just remind you – a cloak that hides an entire planet?"

"Yes, of course, I get that. I still don't believe you want to do this. Is there something you've been hiding all these years, Colonel? A secret fetish for wearing fishnet stockings you never mentioned? A passion for Rocky Horror?"

A huff of laughter escapes Sheppard. "No."

"Then what?"

"Teyla and Ronon are going to be stuck this way for six months, McKay. For nothing."

The really horrible, disgusting, disheartening thing is, Rodney can totally see Sheppard's point, and if it were anyone else but himself, he'd be pushing them to go get zapped into womanhood. Doesn't mean he's going to go along with it, though. Oh, no. No way. Fighting life-sucking evil aliens is one thing, but getting turned into a girl, that's just too much to ask of any man.

"I hate you."

Sheppard just looks at Rodney, then slides his eyes toward Teyla. Rodney grimaces. Yes, it's totally unfair that this happened to Teyla and Ronon while he's unaffected. But really... "Colonel, if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?"

"Yes."

He should have predicted that one. "I hate you so very much, like the heart of an exploding supernova."

"I get that."

Teyla is staring at Sheppard. Ronon is too, but she's grinning. Rodney's already sweating and restraining the urge to clutch his hands over his crotch.

"You would do this, Colonel?" Teyla asks. "You would suffer this...assault on yourself?"

Sheppard shrugs, but it looks forced. "I guess. It's not forever."

"As far as we know," Rodney has to point out. "They could be lying, you know. Little Rodney and I have been together forever. I'm not ready to get a divorce."

"Little Rodney?" Ronon murmurs.

"It's a nickname, not a size reference," he snaps back.

"We're doing this."

"You can't order me to become a woman!"

"Oh, yes, I can!" Sheppard stops and blinks. "Well, no, I guess I can't. Jeez, there's something wrong with a galaxy where we're even having this conversation. Just think about it, McKay. Think of it as...research?"

Rodney looks at Ronon and then Teyla, who still looks miserable and angry. Six months. Okay. He spent longer than that in Siberia, where everyone wore so many layers it didn't matter what sex they were.

"Fine," he grumbles. Never, never say he doesn't know how to sacrifice himself for others.

"I knew you'd say yes," Sheppard says with a weak approximation of his usual pleased grin. A little like he wishes Rodney had fought the whole thing harder.

"I still hate you."

Sheppard looks over to the Hermeans. He swallows hard. Rodney suddenly feels better. "Okay," Sheppard says. "Look, we're going to do this." He looks at Rodney and his eyes are wide and spooked, despite the cool act.

"If you insist."

"I insist."

"Then, after you, Colonel." That gets him a dirty look.

"All right." Sheppard doesn't move.

"Sheppard?"

"Give me a second."

"You do not have to do this," Teyla tells them both. Rodney gives him a sick smile.

"Sheppard's right," Rodney mumbles, hating to admit it.

"Okay, hell just froze over, so let's get this over with," Sheppard says. "We're doing it." His voice cracks a little and he glares at each of them, ending with Rodney. "But no one, no one says we wanted to. Understood?"

Teyla nods gravely. "No one will know."

"Who would I tell? Cadman?"

"No one. Not even Elizabeth."

"Fine. My lips are sealed."

~*~

Rodney has a lot of fantasies where he's naked with a pretty blonde.

None of them involve his dick disappearing.

He'd not sure what it's going to feel like, because Sheppard dragged him away before he could quiz Ronon, but he really hopes it won't be painful. Nothing was said about it being painful, back when he thought Jari was talking about spiritual completeness. He's sure that would have alarmed him enough to pay better attention.

Pretty sure.

This is the most uninspiring nakedness he's ever experienced, and that's including his first full body cavity search in Siberia, when he thought he was going to shiver his balls off.

The technician doesn't even bother taking his name, just tells him to strip and stand on the sensor pad.

He looks down at Little Rodney as a bar of yellow light rises over his body. Somewhere else in the clinic, Sheppard is going through this, too. He probably isn't fighting warring impulses to clutch his privates and suck his stomach in.

The technician is totally hot, he decides, watching her in an effort to distract himself. Not as hot as Sam Carter, but she's got a skin-tight, powder-blue jumpsuit and a ponytail. She's not really paying attention to him, focused on the read-outs on the console before her, so he can stare.

It hits him.

He has no idea if she's really a she or used to be a he. It's not like Hermeans that have been changed have telltale Adam's apples and five o'clock shadow. According to his quick questioning of Jari as they walked back into the clinic, completion means being the other sex down to the chromosomes. It's a pretty impressive technology, one he'd almost be interested in – Beckett would sell his dear mother, foot fungus and all – if he weren't about to experience up close and personal.

A second bar of light, this one a sparkling green, scans of his body. For variety's sake, this one moves from head to foot.

"How much longer is this going to take, anyway?" he complains.

The more he thinks about it, the more Little Rodney and the Boys want to crawl up inside him. He's sweating and possibly about to hyperventilate. He crosses his arms.

He is going to miss Little Rodney.

Really he is.

He looks down again.

"Okay, look, Miss?"

"Yes?"

"Is this going to take much longer? Is there time for me and – " he gestures at himself, " – uh, me, to take one last spin together? For old times' sake."

The technician looks blank. "Spin?"

"Forget it," he says sulkily. Though really, one last hoorah, you'd think every guy would want to – he clamps down on that line of thought before a three-D, full-color, hi-def picture of Sheppard doing just that can start playing behind his eyes. Little Rodney perks up anyway.

He closes his eyes and tries to think about ZPMs – No, something that isn't sexy! – Beckett's mother – Beckett's mother's toe fungus – and gets himself under control as he's scanned with two more disco lights.

"Dr. McKay?" the technician says.

"Yes." He cracks one eye open.

"You can get dressed now. Dr. Pren is in the next room and will explain to you."

A quick check and, yes, everything is still exactly the same.

"Explain."

The technician gives him strangely pitying look, and he immediately wonders if the Hermean scan hasn't discovered he has some kind of terminal disease – that's all there is and will be, you're dying, thanks for taking a stab at saving the galaxy; Beckett's been so busy screwing Cadman he's lost his touch and now Rodney is going to die, horribly so, in a gruesome way involving countless tubes sticking out of and leading deep into his body while Atlantis will explode and sink back into the sea within a week of his demise; he's always known this would happen eventually.

He scrambles into his clothes and hurries into the next room. Pren's an older fellow, stork-like and with a crest of white hair. His eyes widen as Rodney storms in.

"I'm dying. That's it, isn't it? God, I'm dying; what is it? Cancer, radiation, some alien virus that's going to make me revert to a lizard? Beri-beri, sleeping sickness, Hanta virus – oh, God, it's not Dengue, is it? What am I saying, you wouldn't know Dengue from dingos! The finest mind since Einstein, and I'm going die, probably writhing in incredible, insufferable pain, and that Czech weasel will steal my notes and take all the credit for everything I've discovered!"

Pren's mouth opens and closes more than once. Finally, he says, "I'm sorry, but you can't go through Completion."

"I can't?"

His voice may have squeaked.

"There is some chance that the procedure would result in an adverse outcome due to your previous gene therapy according to our exams." He blinks rapidly and adds with the same sort of pitying gentleness the technician showed, "I am very sorry."

"Oh. Oh, well. That's...yes, this won't interfere with us getting the cloak, right? I mean, I'm here, in good faith, it's not my fault Carson's shoddy gene therapy interferes with what you, uh, do."

Pren looks even more perplexed. "There are other, more difficult paths to Enlightenment. I am not an expert in those disciplines. You will have to discuss that with Gean Tamas and a personal counselor – but if you were promised to be taught, I'm sure this won't negate your prior agreement. Again, I am so very sorry: To be denied the opportunity to know Completion – it's a tragedy."

"Yes, yes, but amazingly enough, I've gone through my entire life without it and never felt deprived at all." Rodney looks around and spots the door. "Can I get out of here now?"

Pren points.

Half way down the hall, it occurs to Rodney, that maybe he is missing something. If he'd been turned into a woman, he could have tried for some girl on girl action with Samantha Carter. So maybe he is a little sorry – not that he's ever going to admit it – because that would have been so hot.

~*~

Rodney feels his jaw drop when Sheppard re-enters the waiting room. Not a good look on him or anyone else, but, really, he has an excuse. Until two hours ago, he would never have – not even after two years in the Pegasus Galaxy, two years experiencing just how weird things got around the man – expected Sheppard to...

God, and he makes an incredibly hot woman. Same height, but even leaner, he – she – is all fluid muscle, swimmer's shoulders, drawn finer and narrower, the package wrapped in pale skin, shaggy black hair and the same hazel eyes.

The thing that makes Rodney's palms sweat, though?

Sheppard's mouth is still the same, lush and curved, and right now, turned down in utter misery.

Ronon is at his side within the nanosecond, slinging his - her - arm around Sheppard's shoulder in a smooth, surprisingly gentle gesture, but it's not Ronon Sheppard is looking at, it's him.

Rodney feels Sheppard's gaze like a laser beam – surprise, shock, maybe a flicker of betrayal.

A slight tilt of her head, a short nod at Ronon, and Sheppard lets go of the other – woman, takes a few steps towards Rodney, never taking her eyes of him.

"You." The voice doesn't shake, but it's still raw and new enough to make both of them wince a little. "McKay, what the hell? Why –" Then the words just choke off as her voice cracks higher than Sheppard's ever has before.

He has the sudden, horrified idea that Sheppard's going to cry.

Rodney's torn – a small part of him wants to reach out and pat Sheppard on the back, maybe add a few of those noises women make, but the bigger part of him?

Wants to run.

"I...it was the ATA gene." He swallows hard, because there's a flash of hurt there, but Sheppard is already pulling herself together. Rodney holds his hands out, apologetic and a little panicky, waving at the door into the clinic. "They couldn't do the procedure..."

"Oh. Okay." Sheppard looks a little sick suddenly. "Wait, no. McKay? Did we go through this for nothing?"

"No! I - the process was incompatible with my grafted ATA gene. Or so the technician and the doctor said. They had...scruples. But they said we'd still get the cloak."

Sheppard looks so relieved Rodney feels a little sick himself. He should have said something immediately. He feels a short flare of irritation, too, at the fact Teyla doesn't seem to be doing anything, anything but stand and stare. Shouldn't he be the one comforting Sheppard...? But then, he's obviously in no shape to comfort anyone. Teyla's bothered by this more than Sheppard and Ronon put together.

Sheppard sets her hands on her hips – if it quacks like a duck, Rodney's calling it a duck, and Sheppard's definitely female. His attention is immediately drawn to the fact that Sheppard now has hips. Female type hips. It's lucky Sheppard's always worn his pants baggy, because now the material is stretched over the curves of her ass exactly the way Teyla's did before. He's always suspected Teyla of tailoring her BDUs to make them that tight over her ass, but apparently, no, that's just the way they look on women...and wait, why did the Hermeans not provide him with new pants? Maybe Sheppard refused because of the dozens of military gadgets and trinkets in his pockets.

His brain launches a warning that it may just break if he keeps thinking about this too much.

"Teyla?"

"Colonel," Teyla replies. "You are intact?"

Sheppard points at Teyla with a more than slightly accusatory finger. "Do not talk to me about intact."

Rodney winces and Ronon nods, while Teyla just looks away.

Sheppard isn't finished either. "Everything worked out well for you, didn't it, McKay?" She rubs the back of her neck, an old Sheppard gesture. "Don't say anything, not one 'I told you so'. I don't want to hear it!"

"Sheppard." Ronon, of course. "Easy." And Sheppard does relax just a fraction.

Teyla says woodenly, "Can we do this in the jumper? I wish to leave. Immediately."

They do, but not before stopping by Gean, Jari, and Selh to agree about the schedule -- the team returning to Hermea in two weeks' time for a first session they call "counsel"; Rodney thinks it'll be more along the lines of "check-up" and "making sure the unenlightened barbarians haven't done anything too crazy". All the way to the jumper, through the stargate, and to Atlantis, Teyla is off-balance and prone to snap at everybody; Ronon's gentle and undoubtedly reassuring presence by his side in no way alleviates his mood. Indeed, what looked, at least to Rodney, disturbingly like a playful hip swing just seems to further exasperate Teyla.

Then again, Rodney figures he wouldn't be too happy if he were that short as a guy, either. He tries to steer clear of Teyla. Hey, she could kick his ass when she was a girl, and now she has even more muscle.

They're at the gate, when Sheppard turns a little in the pilot's seat. "McKay?"

"Yes?" He's frankly eager for anything to get him out from between Teyla and Ronon. There's enough tension in the back of the jumper to charge a ZPM.

"I think you better handle the radio communications."

"What –" Oh. Oh. His is the only voice that isn't different. "Oh, yes, of course."

Sheppard's apparently concentrating on the controls and doesn't look up. "Thanks."

Rodney slumps down in the co-pilot's seat. "No – no problem."

The gate is visible now, slowly spinning like one of Sheppard's beloved Ferris wheels. Pegasus stargates are prettier than the stony appearing ones back in the Milky Way. Maybe some Ancient decided the design needed to be more aesthetically appealing, so they spent millions of whatever Ancients used for money designing a new look. He clamps down on the depressing possibility the Ancients were as inane as the rest of humanity and dials Atlantis.

"This is McKay."

*"Is everything all right, Dr. McKay? Do you have casualties?"*

"No, no. No one's hurt this time...exactly," Rodney says into the radio.

"Tell them we're going straight to the jumper bay and need to talk to Elizabeth there," Sheppard murmurs. "She needs to see us first, before the rumors start swirling."

"Right, right."

He makes the request and reassures Elizabeth again they aren't dying. Sheppard pilots the jumper through the gate and up into the jumper bay, settling the little ship into its assigned bay with a feather soft touch, then powering down, before letting her head drop back against the seat's headrest. "I guess we just wait for Elizabeth."

For some reason, that's the proverbial straw for Teyla, whose lightning-quick turn toward Ronon is underlined by a sharp burst of anger. Teyla suddenly snaps, "You. You are too calm about this!"

Ronon lounges back on the bench. Up goes an eyebrow. "You want me in hysterics?"

Teyla glares at her, possibly torn between a petty 'Yes!' and the proper 'No, certainly not' spoken in her old – and sorely missed – manner of indestructible calm.

Rodney twitches. "Please, no. Just no. The thought of you losing it – "

"Hey," Sheppard says softly, "why don't we all try to keep it cool?"

Teyla is not in the mood to listen to any voice of reason and narrows his eyes. "Why don't we admit this is a...terrible thing? A mistake, a disaster?"

"Because it isn't."

Ronon shrugs and Sheppard nods, despite looking glum and tired. All three of them look tired, Rodney notices. "It really isn't, Teyla," he says.

"This is not permanent. You've got to remember that." It sounds like Sheppard's holding on to that thought pretty hard herself. "Six months, Teyla. We can do anything for six months. Right?"

"Half a cycle!"

"That's enough, thank you."

Elizabeth's voice stops them in mid-track. Four

~*~

"Elizabeth." Sheppard waves at Ronon and Teyla. "We've run into a little...snag."

Yes, right, like that couldn't preface every single post-mission conference.

Elizabeth is just looking at them, her gaze cycling between Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon, then quickly checking Rodney, then back to the three changed members of the team. She looks dumbfounded. "Snag," she echoes, then pulls herself together visibly.

Sometimes Rodney marvels at the other team members' talent for stating the obvious; even if gossip in Atlantis didn't travel at the speed of light – which it does, Radek and Simpson ran the tests — even a blind man couldn't miss the fact that Teyla's a five-foot-something prettyboy with high cheekbones and searing eyes, Ronon looks like she could enter the Miss World and an international female wrestling competition — win them both with her hands tied behind her back, in fact – and that Sheppard, for all her undisputed charm and appealing exterior, has never been quite this lovely, all tousled hair, big eyes, and a sulky expression.

"As soon as I heard you went straight to the jumper bay and wanted to see me, I came over. What happened?" Elizabeth is frowning, shock giving way to concern. "Do any of you – I should call Carson?"

Sheppard shakes her head "Wait. We're, well, we're mostly okay. Just..." She gestures at herself, Ronon and Teyla. "This."

To her credit, Elizabeth doesn't do much more than blink this time.

Sheppard gets to her feet, even remembering to keep her hands off her hips and to straighten visibly. Military conditioning is a fantastic thing, especially now that it allows Rodney to study the clean curves of Sheppard's new profile - the straight nose, the proud chin, and always, always the lips – is it wrong that the slight hint of a pout gives Rodney a thrill of excitement? Sheppard has one of her odd moments of near-telepathy and gives Rodney a baleful glance.

Listening to Sheppard's quick, no-frills report of the events on Hermea, Rodney is almost too preoccupied to notice Ronon. Almost, but then it sort of sneaks up and hits Rodney upside the head. Ronon is looking at Sheppard, who is sitting between Rodney and her, radiating a combination of possessive and protective and speculative.

Sheppard doesn't notice, and Teyla keeps shifting in her seat, trying to get comfortable with the new equipment, while Elizabeth just listens with her hands clasped in front of her, sitting on the other side of the jumper from the four of them.

So Ronon's a lesbian now?

Rodney takes the time to look from Ronon to Sheppard to Ronon. Upon reflection, it makes as much sense as the sub-branches of science involved allow: No matter how potentially pervasive in the long run, all the shiny and new biochemistry parameters would hardly be able to instantly override the original sexual orientation and a lifetime of conditioning – God, he shudders to think of the psych-, bio-, and sociology departments' orgasmic delight when they learn of this; best avoid their staff members for the time being; not like Rodney will lose any sleep over that.

Then again – and the thought is disturbing in a way that surprises Rodney, who's Canadian, after all — Ronon doesn't act all that different. And Sheppard hasn't moved out of arm's reach of Ronon since the change, so maybe she isn't as quite oblivious as she's acting.

Then Ronon catches Rodney staring and meets his eyes. Her lips suddenly curve up. Rodney's not positive, but he thinks that might be an acknowledgment.

Of course, if he's wrong, Ronon is going to give him a sex change without benefit of Hermean technology.

Rodney's startled out of his reverie when silence falls; following Sheppard's cue, he stares at Elizabeth who is allocating perfectly courteous glances at each of them. Now, she takes a deep breath.

"I'll skip the part where I tell you that I hadn't ever imagined this, postpone the part where I ask you how you're doing – so you're healthy, if not exactly comfortable – and go straight to the question of the nature of this altered state of yours: Can you still do your jobs?"

Rodney rolls his eyes. Pfft. "Of course, I can do my job."

Ronon just shrugs, whereas Sheppard looks a little pale, worried lines marring her forehead. She lifts her chin a little and meets Elizabeth's eyes. "You can do yours, right?"

"Wait. Altered state?" Teyla's voice is flat, but there's something beneath the surface that makes Rodney think of undercurrents and small fish with sharp teeth; Teyla stands up in one fluid movement, putting his palms flat on the armrests of the jumper seat, and, really, no one this size should be so threatening.

"Dr. Weir, this is not just a harmless intoxication, this is an abomination. A woman turned into a man – I cannot tell you how utterly and completely wrong this is!"

His restrained anger couldn't be any more obvious, but for a moment, Rodney thinks he sees something a lot like fear flash in his eyes, too – but, no, this is Teyla they're talking about.

"Well," Sheppard gives a little cough, and what would have been effeminate before now goes perfectly with her new skin and turns out to be a frighteningly effective way of drawing attention away from Teyla, "I can't say I'm too happy about this, but I'm sure we can deal with it – for the moment, at least."

"I agree." Ronon leans forward, an action that, if possible, brings her even closer to Sheppard. Rodney is momentarily distracted by the new angle that allows him to watch the subtle play of muscles beneath the smooth golden skin of her shoulders. "Being a girl? Not bad. Just different."

Rodney is completely with him there – right until Ronon flips her hair with a grace that's breathtaking precisely because it's completely free of artifice, when he decides he's actually a bit ahead of Ronon: This? Is even better.

~*~

Sheppard keeps the smile pasted on all the way to the infirmary after lingering in the jumper to try and convince Elizabeth that they needed to fulfill the Hermeans' terms. The smile is a little more strained every time someone gives a double take as they pass in the halls. Elizabeth's final little, "cute ass" as he started out the hatch had first startled, then amused him, enough that he'd been able to reply, "Yeah, well, the more things change...," but he still feels skittish and shaky. Nothing has sunk in yet, and he isn't looking forward to the major league meltdown when it does.

He's alternately irritated and grateful that McKay hasn't been changed, too; there could've been a question of whether they were even who they claimed to be, but it's grating to be the one to go through this -- well, not alone, really; that'd be unfair, and untrue besides. Still, to not have Rodney next to him, in the same predicament, bugs the hell out of him in a way he can't quite put his finger on. Or maybe it's true what they say, and misery does love company.

Meanwhile, he has to keep up a good front.

And to get used to thinking of himself as a woman. Which is just too damn weird.

He catches up with the three at the South intersection. Beckett is waiting for them when the team walks into the cramped infirmary.

"Carson – " McKay says.

"Colonel, Rodney," Beckett replies without looking up, "I gather no one's bleeding out or otherwise in mortal distress, so if you'll just both take a seat on an exam table, I'll see to you in a minute. Teyla, lass, Dr. Biro will see to you and Ronon."

"Uh, Carson?"

"Rodney...." Beckett still hasn't looked up. "I'm a wee bit busy."

A couple of the nurses are staring, however. "Dr. Beckett," one of them squeaks.

Suddenly, the humor of the whole situation hits Sheppard. He's gone to another galaxy and gotten a sex change. He catches Ronon's eye and raises an eyebrow. They may as well have some fucking fun with it. Otherwise, he, for one, might start actually thinking about it.

"Carson, you really need to – "

"Doc," Sheppard drawls in a low, seductive voice, trying for that thing Cadman did when she talked to Beckett – breathy and sort of...presenting her front. "We'd really appreciate it if you could get our exams over with in a timely fashion." Rodney sucks in a fast breath and Beckett's head shoots up. The tablet computer drops out of his fingers. His pale eyes dart from Sheppard to Ronon to Teyla to Rodney. A look of profound relief crosses his face when he sees Rodney, either because Rodney's familiar or because he really never wanted to know what kind of woman Rodney would make.

"Rodney," Beckett says carefully, "where is the Colonel?"

Rodney crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh, don't tell me you're that dense. You're looking right at her."

"Her?" Beckett echoes on a high note. Higher than anything Sheppard's hitting today, even sans...everything. She hides a wince, then another wince at realizing she just thought of herself as she.

Rodney nods at Sheppard.

"Still here, Doc," Sheppard adds helpfully. She smiles, all teeth.

"Oh, Lord," Beckett exclaims. "Get over here. What's happened to you?"

Sheppard heads for one of the exam tables, trying to quell a sudden bout of shyness. For the first time, she's acutely aware of the layout of the infirmary, the lack of anything that would establish a measure of privacy. "Just another patented mission to a weird planet where they think everyone civilized switches back-and-forth," she explains. She hops onto the table. "Teyla and Rodney thought they were talking about philosophy or...something. Not so much. The Hermeans were dead serious."

She adds, with an extra dose of brightness, "It does beat getting turned into a bug."

"Marginally," Rodney mutters.

Carson stares at him.

"And Rodney? Why didn't they...?"

"The gene therapy," Rodney interrupts. "They were worried it would interfere. Have I mentioned my vast gratitude for your ethically challenged penchant for experimenting on human beings – meaning me – in this case?"

"Shut up, Rodney," Sheppard says. "And get out."

"What?"

Sheppard nods to the privacy curtains rigged to pull around the exam table. "I'm not putting a show on for you or the rest of the damn city," she snaps. She'd gotten over body shyness – what there had been of it – at the Academy, but suddenly he was she and she didn't feel like flashing her brand-new tits for every googly-eyed lookie-loo in Atlantis. Hell, she hadn't even had a chance to get acquainted with them herself.

No time to really look at the new body back on Hermea.

"Go on with you, Rodney," Carson says, backing her up. Sheppard flashes him a grateful smile. Gets another dazed eye-blink in response.

"Oh, oh, very well," Rodney gripes. "Though it isn't like I haven't seen a naked woman before or you naked before, in, granted, very different circumstances – "

"I should hope so," Beckett mutters.

Rodney steamrollers on with a dark look for the Scot. " – and I may be in a position to answer any questions has about the process – "

"That you didn't even go through!" Sheppard snaps.

"I was examined!"

"In private!"

"Well, welcome to Dr. Beckett's Primate Zoo, Colonel. You'll notice none of us get any privacy in here," Rodney snaps back.

"Enough!" Beckett yells, making them both look at him, startled. Beckett's practice has never seemed suspect – well, not in that regard – before, but now, his vague befuddlement at Sheppard's unwillingness to share with everybody within reach seems a little cavalier. "Rodney, pull the curtains and wait at the next table, I will get to you later. Colonel, I'll get you a gown." He shakes his head. "This is going to take a while."

"I'd really rather have scrubs," Sheppard tells him. She stops and thinks about it. "Well, that, something to eat and a long nap." Her stomach does a little grind that's either the belated freak-out that's been looming since Ronon showed up with breasts or a determined reminder it's been empty since lunch on Hermea almost – she checks her watch, watching it slide over her narrow wrist with another wince – fourteen hours ago.

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about!" Rodney says. "Dr. Pren and Jari explained that the procedure uses up most of the body's stored energy. Carson, you need to feed them before they all pass out. And me, too. I can't believe I haven't collapsed already."

"Way to go, McKay, make it all about you."

"It's not my fault you've got a vagina. You – "

Sheppard glares. "McKay, remember what we agreed!"

McKay gulps and looks guilty, then nods rapidly. "Sorry, sorry. But it could have been me, too," he whispers self-righteously. "Besides, you know I'm hypoglycemic. Carson, tell him. Her."

Sheppard kicks her boots off without unlacing them; they're too big. It's stupid, but this really bothers her – it's such a concrete sign of how she's changed. Besides, she just got those boots broken in to perfection. She'll have requisition another pair, in another size, and start all over. She hates blisters. She finds herself staring down at her sock-clad feet in a daze.

"Colonel?"

"Sheppard?"

She looks up and Beckett is looking concerned. Behind him, one hand clutched on the curtain, McKay looks sympathetic.

"I'm okay," she says slowly, not really certain it's the truth. "I'm just really, really tired." Not a lie, she could lie back on the exam table and go to sleep in the middle of the infirmary, no problem. "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

"If you'll finish undressing, Colonel."

Right.

Reluctantly, pretending to a bravado she doesn't feel, Sheppard grabs her T-shirt by the back of the neck and pulls it over her head in a single move. McKay and Beckett both make strangled noises while it's going over her head. By the time she has it off, McKay has been spun around and pushed out, while Beckett is frantically pulling the curtains the rest of the way closed. Sheppard doesn't really notice. She's staring down at her chest. Her smooth, pale chest and her...breasts. Wow. She has breasts. There's not really a lot to them, but still.... She pokes at one with her index finger and there's jiggle.

Beckett makes that strangled noise again. "Colonel Sheppard...."

She looks up. "What?"

Beckett thrusts a scrub top at her. "Please."

"What? You've seen my chest before."

"Not like this, lass."

Sheppard's going to be brave. She's not going to whine and jump and generally behave the way Rodney does – even without the sex change. She resists the urge to cross her arms over her tits and stares over Beckett's shoulder as he begins. On the other side of the curtain, Rodney is complaining that he's being examined by Dr. Biro – at length. "I'm not a cadaver yet, have some respect, are you sure you're not dead, because your fingers are colder than some corpses' – Aieee!"

The high pitched yelp is amusing as always, except she's suddenly much more sympathetic.... But why the hell has Beckett set up the infirmary so there's no privacy beyond a thin length of cloth? Sheppard is starting to obsess over it, listening to Rodney complain and the buzz of Ronon and Teyla talking while they wait. Plus anyone could just walk in from outside. What's with that? It's worse than Earth hospitals. It's all something to think about while Beckett prods and palpates and shines his damn penlight in her eyes.... And, fuck, that stethoscope is cold!

Did he just cop a feel!?

"Hey!"

Beckett steps back from Sheppard's sudden frown and raised voice. "What?"

"Do you have to – you know, touch me so much?"

Okay, she knows it's stupid. It's ridiculous. It's an exam, just like every other post-mission exam, but when did Beckett get so fucking feely? She's cold and shivering, too. Can't someone turn up the heat? Does Beckett examine Teyla topless through the whole thing? Sheppard's head is starting to swim. This must be what a panic attack starts out from.

"Sorry, I've got to – "

"No, no, you really don't," Sheppard says, squirming away from Beckett's hands. This isn't good. This is jump-up-and-run-screaming-down-the-halls bad. She's about to fucking hyperventilate.

"Colonel," Beckett snaps. And screw him if he's getting irritated. In a minute she's going to deck him or throw up all over his shoes. Maybe both.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Rodney yells.

"What do you think?" she snarls back at half the volume.

"Colonel, I need you to take off your pants – "

Sheppard clamps her thighs together. "And what, lie back and think of Scotland?" She stares at the instruments Beckett has laid out on a tray. They're all shiny. And steel. And, no, no, no, not touching her with any of them. "You're not sticking that inside me!"

Rodney snickers on the other side of the curtain.

"Would you rather I got Dr. Biro to do your exam?" Carson replies in exasperation.

Sheppard nods vigorously. "Well, actually – yes." She glares at him. "You keep looking at my chest."

"Louise!"

The curtain yanks aside just enough for Biro to poke her short-cropped head through. The lights glint off her little square glasses. "What now?" Her gaze strays to Sheppard and she blinks. "What's this, then? You make a nice-looking woman, Colonel."

"The Colonel needs a full workup, Louise," Beckett tells in, sounding exasperated. "And he's – she's not comfortable with me suddenly. If you'll take over, I'll handle Rodney."

Biro shoots her eyebrows up. "Somehow, Carson, I suspect you're not that comfortable, either."

"Louise – "

"Fine, fine. It gets me out of dealing with the Mouth That Does Not Stop," she says and steps into the examination area.

"I heard that, you ghoul!" Rodney yells.

"You were supposed to."

"Thank you, Louise," Beckett mutters sincerely.

Biro nods and waits until Beckett's gone, rooting through the supply shelf mounted at the head of the exam table. She tosses a set of red scrubs at Sheppard. "Here."

Sheppard gapes at her.

"Colonel, I'm used to patients that are quiet," she says as she dons a new set of gloves, "so go right on emulating them and we'll get along fine."

Sheppard snaps her mouth shut and gets into the scrubs.

Biro is watching, which makes Sheppard blush all over, which is humiliating too. "So, is it just cosmetic or does it include functionality, Colonel?"

Sheppard tightens her fingers and the hem of the scrub top and yanks it down. "They said everything works."

"Well, we'll see."

Oh, shit, she didn't like the sound of that. That sounded like more exams and more tests and shiny, steel instruments that made her queasy to just think about.

"Don't look at me like a kitten about to be flayed," Biro sighs.

Hey. She resents that comparison. "I'm more worried about you jumping the gun on an autopsy," Sheppard says, flippant tone returning to her voice. Biro's so unfazed by the situation, it makes relaxing a little easier.

From the other side of the curtain, Rodney's strident voice pierces the infirmary. "You fraud! You incompetent, bead-rattling haggis-eater, you have the bedside manner of a walrus, stop trying to blind me and go torture Ronon!" It's so familiar Sheppard immediately feels better. There's always a chance to pull the fat out of the fire as long Rodney has breath to complain.

"You know what a breast exam is, Colonel?"

Sheppard rolls her eyes. "Not from this side. So to speak."

Biro smiles a little at that. Sheppard looks down. "So, not bad, huh?"

After a considering look, Biro nods, "I've seen better, but those'll do." When Sheppard gapes, Biro grins. "Now that you've relaxed a little, I'm going take your blood pressure." She keeps talking as she works, a patter meant to distract and calm, and Sheppard realizes it's working. "So, how long did this actually take?"

"Couple of hours."

"You were conscious?"

"Not really, not for the...," she gestures at her groin, "losing stuff part."

Biro nods, and writes into Sheppard's new chart. "I imagine that would be pretty disturbing."

Sheppard nods glumly. "Waking up like this...."

"Well, women do it every day," Biro says. "Wake, get out of bed, go pee...."

Sheppard swallows and nods, but she doesn't – not at all – think it's the same. Most women wake up as who and what they were the night and the day before and every one before that since they were born. They don't just have to suddenly figure it all out after thirty-seven years in a different body. Even the Hermeans don't do that; they get completion out of the way within a year after puberty hits.

Maybe some of that shows on her face. Biro's brow furrows. "I can help you with some of the details. You'll need clothes that fit, for one thing. And someone to talk to sometime, if you want."

"I...please." Jesus, she thinks, Biro's better at this than Kate Heightmeyer. Either that or the hormones are hitting hard, because she never felt so grateful in her life. "Teyla's too freaked out to talk to."

"Teyla?"

"You didn't see?"

"Afraid not, Colonel."

"Teyla got the opposite result. Everything Ronon and I had and now don't – she does. He does. Shit." It seemed like such a simple solution to get the damned technology back on Hermea, but Rodney's right. She must be brain-damaged.

"That's remarkable. The technology, I mean."

"Why did I know every scientist on Atlantis was going to say something like that?"

"Well, you can't blame us."

"Yes, I can," she snaps.

"You're the living embodiment of about five hundred studies."

"I really don't care." She looks down at herself again, feeling waves of frustration come and go; a fucking tide of conflicting emotions. "I did it because I thought I had to, and now I have to figure out how to get through six months like this."

"Amazingly, women manage, and you will too." She paused in writing in the chart. "Six months?"

"Until they'll change us back."

"It really is remarkable." The chart is set aside again. "All right, drop your pants, lie back and I'll – "

A moment later, Sheppard squeaks and gasps out, "Hey, wait, I don't think – "

"Stop squirming, Colonel."

"Stop — doing — doing that."

"Let me finish."

"You — that — okay, a prostate exam never felt like that. Jesus, that's cold!"

Biro finishes and steps back. "All done." She snaps off her gloves and drops them in the trash, then connects her comm mike to a tiny recorder. "Name, Sheppard, John, Colonel USAF. Patient presents as a healthy, thirty-seven year old Caucasian female, contrary to previous gender assignment. Preliminary physical exam confirms sexual characteristics present are strictly female...."

Sheppard half listens as she jerks the scrubs back over her hips.

"...three pounds under optimum weight ... blood pressure elevated, presumably due to circumstantial stress...."

Sheppard raises her eyebrow and Biro pats her arm. She's never been the touchy-feely type before, but she's grateful for Biro's touches, which are both kind and assured. Beckett always seems like he's uncomfortable out of his lab, working on real people.

"...patient appears, pending blood work, x-rays, PET scan, MRI and DNA results, to possess fully functional primary and secondary female sexual characteristics — "

"Hey, hold on a sec," Sheppard says, swallowing hard, thinking, really thinking for the first time: functional? "Like...uh, fertile?"

Biro's looking at her sympathetically.

"You mean...?"

"That's exactly what I mean, yes."

Sheppard braces her hands against the edge of the exam table and waits for the fuzzy black curtains at the edge of her vision to pull back. "Ooooh."

"Colonel."

"It's not like I slept through sex-ed," she murmurs. "Jesus. Birth control? I've got to use birth control?"

"Don't be shocked, Colonel. I suggest an implant once we've finished running tests and are sure there won't be any problems."

"I'm never having sex in this body."

"That's what they all say." Biro is actually laughing at her. "All of the original expedition's female personnel received an implant, unless there were counter-indications."

"Shit. It's six months. I can hold out — "

"I actually mean, it, Colonel. I'd strongly suggest it."

She gulps and nods. "Okay."

"Of course, you'll still need to make sure your partners use condoms."

"...condoms."

"STDs."

"Do they have nunneries in this galaxy?" Sheppard mutters.

Rodney yells, proving the bastard has been listening, "Like they'd let you in!"

"Rodney, if you don't shut up I'm going have Ivan give you an enema the next time you're brought in," Beckett says, loud enough anyone could hear. "Now, stay here. I still have to examine Ronon."

"Sadist!" Rodney hisses. "What about Teyla?"

"Dr. Biro will be with her — with Teyla — as soon as she finishes with Colonel Sheppard."

"That'll go over like a lead balloon."

"Rodney...."

"Fine, shutting up."

Biro makes this little snorting sound. "That man...." Sheppard isn't completely certain she means Rodney. She cocks her head at Sheppard after a moment and steps closer, lowering her voice. "You do realize that you're virgo intacta, don't you, Colonel?"

Sheppard feels hot, then cold, then too weirded out to describe, except possibly she may be sick in her next breath. "You can't be serious," she whispers.

"Oh, I assure you, I am. I'd also recommend you have me take care of your hymen if you rethink the celibacy option."

Sheppard just sways in place, glad she's already sitting down.

"Colonel?"

"I'm not going to faint," she murmurs. "I'm not going to faint."

Biro's peering at her. "You really should have eaten something — "

"When?" Sheppard snaps. "We came here straight out of the jumper — "

"Wait — here." She produces a piece of candy from her lab coat pocket. "We get these for the Athosian kids, their monthly exams — "

Sheppard's already snatching the nugget of sheer sugar heaven, tearing the wrapper off, ready to weep over just the scent before the taste melts onto her tongue. Maple, and there's a nut in the center. Screw chocolate and guns and even flying, Sheppard has found love. She's tempted to lick the damned wrapper.

Biro's ostentatiously counting her fingers. "Ah, still all there. I thought you might have snapped one off, Colonel."

"I'm starving."

"Interesting." Biro hands her several more candies, which Sheppard inhales gratefully, the nausea finally fading.

In the quiet lull of candy-inspired ecstasy and cowed Rodney-ness, Sheppard catches Beckett's soft brogue interspersed with Ronon's still surprisingly deep, husky tones, but pays little attention. She is suddenly exhausted, her eyelids drooping closed against her will.

Biro pats Sheppard's back. "Why don't you lie down and rest for a while, Colonel? We'll need to run some more tests before we release you to your quarters."

Sheppard just hangs her head, nodding in defeat.

"We'll get a meal sent over from the cafeteria," Biro promises.

"Please."

"Well, I have to see to Teyla."

Sheppard looks up. "Are you sure you couldn't give me something to knock me out for six months?" she appeals.

"Sorry, Colonel, I really couldn't. Besides, do you really want to be unconscious with Rodney McKay awake?"

A shudder runs through Sheppard. She flops back onto the exam table. "I now have a new worst nightmare," she mutters. She's so tired suddenly nothing makes sense. Biro urges her to scoot up and then drops a light blanket over her as she curls up and passes out.

When she wakes again — coming back to with a startled jerk that makes the unfamiliar new weight of her chest bounce — the blanket is still around her shoulders, but the privacy curtain is half pulled. She can see around most of the infirmary, including Ronon talking quietly with Beckett only a few feet away.

"So."

"You're the picture of health," Carson says.

"So?"

"Didn't I tell you, then? We're done here."

"Not completely."

There's a pause.

"I'll need something."

"Something?" Beckett echoes.

"Contraceptive — birth control?" Ronon tries. "I know you people have it. Sheppard handed me condoms the first week. I want something more reliable."

"Ronon..." Beckett's voice is strangled. Sheppard presses her eyes closed. Thank God for Biro. "Perhaps this is too soon to be thinking of things like that."

Teyla's new voice still has the same cadence and rings out, "You cannot seriously consider having sexual relations in these bodies!"

Sheppard rolls over and spots Teyla sitting on one of the other exam beds. Rodney's perched just beyond her, tapping away at his laptop, his face gone an alarming shade of red.

"Probably will," Ronon replies. "Why not?"

No answer. Then: "Colonel!" Teyla's voice. "Say something!"

"What?" Sheppard snaps, desperately wishing she'd pretended to still be asleep. "Like, Can We Please Not Have This Conversation in Public, or, ideally, Ever!?" She takes a breath and adds, marginally calmer, "That last part? That's an order. Shut up, Rodney."

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"Good."

Silence follows.

Then a whisper, "I don't want to know anything about it," from Beckett.

And Rodney, who is clearly suicidal: "Carson! Where's your sense of scientific curiosity, inquiry, exploring new bounds in genetic manipulation and socio-sexual relations — "

~*~

*thwack*

*thwack*

*thwack*

This is familiar.

Her heartbeat and breathing have quickened; the rush of blood through her body is beginning to drown out the world, allows her to listen inside, past flesh and bone. The rhythm of her hand, of her foot hitting the bag is both soothing and fortifying, a meditation of the body that allows her mind to — not rest, no, but spin in slower, ever-narrowing circles, as close to her self as she has —

"Been here a while?"

Teyla turns, quickly; perhaps not as quickly as before.

Sheppard is quietly leaning against the door frame; even if she had no knowledge of — what happened, she would always, always be able to tell who he is from the way he does not move. It is obvious his female body cannot erase the imprints of habit and training. She feels a small surge of hope.

"Teyla." He is smiling; the expression should be foreign, maybe even appalling on his new face but in actuality makes it hard not to return it. "Heard you've come here three times every day."

Belatedly, she shifts out of fighting stance and faces him fully.

"You have heard right."

"That's nine times since we returned three days ago." Eyes still the color of tai leaves, she notices absently, but why would they not be? It is simply that she has not looked at him all that closely since the previous forced change he had to undergo. Or maybe that he has not looked at her.

"The art of mathematics is known to my people."

She can see the surprise in the — softer — lines of his body; the brief flutter of lashes is far from new yet far more noticeable now.

"Well, I just came by to tell you we've got a mission."

She forgets, sometimes; forgets that there is a reason beyond the ties of loyalty and friendship that she follows Sheppard and orders that are not always wise or even well-intentioned. After almost three days of returning time and time again to the infirmary for yet another test, to be prodded by Biro and Beckett again and again, to go over the exact wording of the reports to be written down, repeatedly so. She would be grateful, if this were not too good to be true.

"A mission? But Dr. Weir said —"

"No off-world activity this soon, I know. But I figure there's a whole lot of places we've yet to explore, right next door — literally. Still plenty of Atlantis that we have to scout and map out."

Sheppard grins, and yes, it is purely him, the insolent charm that made her respond to him what now feels like so long ago.

It's shaky, she supposes, but her answering grin mirrors his.

~*~

There are numerous marvels in this greatest city of the Ancestors.

It would be lovely to actually see some of them today, Teyla thinks to herself. Thus far, all the team have unearthed were private chambers — the entrance into which still makes her uneasy, guilty, an intruder in space once as private as her own — derelict stores and storerooms — stripped of everything they might have held, which made the colonel's face fall just a little in disappointment each time — and other rooms dedicated to function instead of science or form. Teyla is suitably impressed with the level of comfort and technology to be found here, but truly, there are only so many Bathrooms of the Ancestors one can look at with wonder in one's eyes.

"Another one?"

Sometimes, she really cherishes Rodney and his penchant for unfiltered mind-to-mouth communications.

"I dunno, maybe we can power one of these up again, sometime?"

Ah, Colonel Sheppard and an attempt at optimism, ill-received as it is wont to be.

"Yes, of course we can; please, remind me again to channel power and potable water into remote areas of the city...say, the day after hell freezes over?"

Sometimes, she does not