Stargate Atlantis

Ronon's team-mate tucked her staves into her bag and swung it up onto her shoulder. "He did not, but Elizabeth has spoken of it."

"And?" She seemed surprised as she waited for him to grab his towel off the punching 'dummy'. Exactly what was 'dumb' about it was beyond Ronon, but that was the Atlanteans for you.

Ronon shrugged the towel into place around his neck, glad of the dry nap of the material against his damp skin. "You're not excited?" He swung his head forward, then tossed it back so his dreadlocks lay on top of the towel rather than under it.

A snort of disbelief escaped him before he could stop it. Teyla had a gift for understatement. "'Memorable?' It's Earth."

Her mouth quirked as she turned towards the door. "And that is why it will be memorable," she said.

Memorable? Ronon shook his head as he followed her out the door. "We'll be meeting their leaders." When he got no answer, he loped ahead of her and turned on one toe to face her, walking backwards by instinct and memory. "You're not interested in meeting the leaders of six billion people?"

Teyla tilted her head at him. "Would they not be much the same as the leaders of six thousand people - or six hundred?"

Practical as ever. But that couldn't be the whole of her response. "What about Earth? You don't want to see that stuff that Sheppard and McKay are always going on about?"

Her mouth curved in tolerant amusement. "Ronon, we see much of what they do here in Atlantis."

"Not all of it." Ronon was intrigued by the idea of a planet that had turned out people with mindsets as varied as he'd met in Atlantis. While Sateda had done things the Atlanteans couldn't - they really liked his guns for starters - the Atlanteans seemed to have levels to their society that Ronon just couldn't fathom. It was like peeling the aromatic bulbs - you took off one layer and there was another one right there.

"We would not see all of it on Earth, either," she told him. "What little I have seen was...amazing. Beyond anything I had ever imagined."

Ronon frowned. He didn't remember ever hearing that she'd gone to Sheppard's world. From the sound of it, they'd been stuck on Atlantis with no way back to Earth until just before Ronon came to the city. "You've been to Earth?"

Teyla hesitated. "Not exactly. Before you came to us in Atlantis, we went to a world which possessed the power to send a wormhole to Earth without the ZPM. However, we were unaware that every time the wormhole opened, billions of the population died." Her brow furrowed. "They were not people as we understand them - they were...energy."

She shook her head. "They were able to make us believe we had gone to Earth in our minds - to stop us from going to Earth in our bodies."

Ronon couldn't help teasing her - he had yet to get a serious rise out of her. "You were in Sheppard's head?" Teyla's expression said all the things she wasn't going to say out loud, and he grinned and stopped needling her. "So you've seen Earth."

"A small part of it." She shrugged and continued on her way back towards the city. "If it is anything like that...dream, then I am sure it will be very enjoyable."

Address of residence while in the US: Hotel Washington, 15th and Pennsylvania Ave, N.W., Washington, DC

Purpose of visit: ~~Meet your president and joint chiefs of earth.~~ Diplomatic embassage.

"I can't take them with me?" Ronon looked more than a little wary at the prospect of giving up his collection of lethal weapons.

John supposed that if he was on a strange planet surrounded by people who were, if not exactly hostile, not entirely friendly, he'd be reluctant to give up his weapons, too. Unfortunately for Ronon there was no way they were going to get from the SGC to DC with them on him. "You can't take them with you on the plane. You can put them in your luggage if you want."

Elizabeth went for the more explanatory approach. "Only specifically authorised personnel are allowed to take any weaponry onto civilian flights, Ronon."

The SF collecting the weapons looked just a touch unnerved by the way Ronon put his knuckles down on the table and leaned forward. Nearly a year of experience had taught John that his team-mate often didn't think about being intimidating - he just was.

John wasn't up on state etiquette, but he was pretty sure that having the Secret Service arrest Ronon for threatening the President would be a bad thing - even if it turned out to be a misunderstanding.

"Because six years ago, a bunch of terrorists used weapons to take four planes hostage in mid-air," Rodney answered Ronon's question from where he was leaning against the doorway. "They then flew three of the planes into major population centres, killing about ten thousand people. As a result, the FAA are rather suspicious these days."

"You know, Ronon, I have a friend who can't even take her knitting needles on a plane," Elizabeth said, in an attempt to mollify him. "And they're just plastic."

"Come on," John protested. "Everyone knows that it's all knit and purl until someone loses an eye." He grinned when he got looks from not only Elizabeth and Ronon but also the SGC armoury personnel. Still, it looked like they were used to someone's wry humour, because the eyebrows lifted but they didn't make any comments. Then again, that might just be because he outranked them. He did catch the look Ronon gave Teyla, who seemed amused, but merely shrugged before the SF addressed Teyla.

"You don't have any weaponry, ma'am?" He looked as though he expected her to produce at least one unexpected weapon.

"No," she said. "I did not bring any this trip. However, I shall consider it the next time I visit Earth." Her smile made the SF flush a little. Then he caught John's pointed look and went hurriedly back to cataloguing Ronon's collection of weaponry.

Ronon allowed himself to be separated from his weaponry, but the look he gave John said quite clearly that if a situation came up and he wasn't able to fight back, he was going to be so very pissed off.

If a situation came up where they weren't able to fight back, then John was going to be pissed off.

As they made their way through the SGC, up through the NORAD facility and out to the Academy airbase, John noted that both Teyla and Ronon were getting quite a few looks from the personnel they encountered. Not the 'Oh, my God, they're aliens' appraising looks so much as the 'damn good looking people' interested kind.

John wasn't stupid. He'd seen the admiring looks his team-mates got around Atlantis. But Atlantis was one thing: the people there knew Teyla and Ronon - worked and trained alongside them. And the expedition - and the people who came to Atlantis - knew that they were part of John's team. This was Earth - it was a whole new ball game.

"We should give them a bit of an induction," he said quietly to Elizabeth as they climbed out of the SUV at the Academy airstrip where their transport was to pick them up for flying to DC.

"We discussed it the other night in the commissary. I think Laura mentioned something and it got her thinking." His colleague seemed considerably less concerned about Teyla's ability to handle social situations than John. "She's a diplomat, John, socialising won't be a problem for her." Her gaze crossed over to the tallest of John's team-mates. "Ronon, on the other hand..."

John grimaced. "You're going to say that because you had a chat with Teyla, I'm supposed to have a chat with Ronon?" Her laugh was all the answer he needed. "That's nasty."

The quirk of her expression asked if she was supposed to care. John glared and went over to where Teyla was shading her eyes against the sun, watching a C-141 Starlifter take off from the tarmac. "Great, isn't it?"

She turned to him with a quick smile. "I look at your world and all the things you have done, and I wonder if my people might have achieved such things had we not run from the Wraith."

"More likely you'd be dead," John told her. Going down the 'might have been' path wasn't helpful. He'd been that way himself more than a few times after Afghanistan - hell, he'd been that way in Atlantis. There were nights he lay in bed and thought about all the lives lost because he'd killed the Wraith Caretaker and woken the Wraith.

Teyla wasn't looking for reassurance - that wasn't her way. To her, it was just a statement of what was and what might have been.

He glanced around, looking for Ronon on instinct. Finding him leaning against the SUV and grinning at Rodney and Elizabeth, John spoke quietly. "And where are they now?"

Her eyes held his for a moment, before the wind caught tendrils of her hair and turned her face back to the jet that was now a dwindling speck into the sky. "And there will be no time to see the other parts of your world," she murmured.

She gave him a brief smile before they were called back to collect their baggage. Both John and Teyla had chosen the military duffles, while Ronon had opted for a pack. Rodney and Elizabeth had little suitcases on wheels - Elizabeth's squeaked in an irritating manner.

Halfway to the plane, John turned around to check that they had everyone, and grinned to himself. They made an oddly mismatched group out here on the Academy tarmac. Rodney and Elizabeth were clearly civilians in spite of their fatigues, while nobody would mistake Ronon for Earth military in a hundred years. And then there was Teyla, who was clearly not Earth military either, but who could act enough like one to fool at first glance.

He was so used to them in Atlantis, it felt decidedly odd having them all here back on Earth.

John beamed at Rodney and kept walking. "Nothing to worry about, Rodney. Nothing to worry about at all."

Once they were on the plane - a proper jet, not a military transport - there was a brief disagreement between Rodney and Ronon as to who got the window seat opposite Teyla. Naturally, Ronon won.

Rodney glared until Elizabeth gently pushed him into the row on the other side of the aisle and headed up towards the back of the plane with something like a sigh.

John turned back to where Teyla was leaning back in the chair and angling her head so she could see out the window, while Ronon had practically glued his nose to the pane. "And this thing flies like a 'jumper?"

He considered how to condense a textbook's worth of aerodynamics into a couple of sentences.

Rodney saved him having to bother. "Actually, it flies nothing like a jumper at all. You see the propulsion system of this jet is combustion-based in order to oppose the natural forces of gravity--"

"Yes," John interrupted, glaring briefly at the scientist before turning to Ronon. "It flies. Not quite like a 'jumper, but close."

"For the purposes of this discussion, let's pretend it's like a jumper," John said. "You can explain all the little details of what it's really like later." He rolled his eyes at Teyla, who'd turned away from the window to watch her team-mates argue.

Elizabeth came back and took the seat across the aisle, next to Rodney, then glanced at John. "There's been a slight change of plans. When we reach DC, Teyla and I won't be heading directly to the hotel."

Beyond him, Teyla shifted in her chair and Elizabeth's eyes slipped past him and smiled. "We'll be doing some shopping."

The twinkle in her eyes boded badly for someone's pocketbook. John remembered Teyla's awe at the shopping possibilities during that weird dream where everything and nothing had been right. That had been impressive enough for him.

A cab from Reagan National to the Mazza Galleries in DC?

$25.

Lunch at the Terrace on Potomac?

$90.

Two gowns suitable for a state function, plus shoes, accessories, and jewellery?

$2,500

Watching the jaws drop when Teyla emerges from the room in gown, shoes, jewellery, and accessories?

Priceless.

There are some things money can't buy.

For everything else, there's the SGC account.

The shopping trip with Teyla was fun. It had been a while since Elizabeth had really had a chance to relax with a female friend.

Granted, she'd spent the last few years in Atlantis, but even before that, she hadn't had too many people with whom she could really relax. The problem with being competent and in control of situations was that it was difficult to stop being competent and in control, and that tended to scare people away.

Although she'd never discussed it with Teyla, she had the feeling the other woman understood.

Then, too, Elizabeth didn't have to watch everything she said with Teyla. And it was enjoyable to wander through the Mazza Gallerie, pointing out shops of interest and looking for a couple of gowns suitable for dinner at the White House.

Elizabeth wasn't privy to all the details, but she gathered that General O'Neill had something to do with their invitation to the state dinner for a number of high-ranking foreign diplomats. Colonel Caldwell reported that the General had said something about hiding white tigers among other white tigers - which made a certain kind of sense.

"You have so many choices," Teyla murmured as they looked through the ready-to-wear collection in one of the designer shops. "So much colour and the materials..." She pulled out a velvet skirt of royal blue. "This is one of the rarest colours to create and dye. The colours fade swiftly and it is not always worth the trouble of dyeing it in the first place."

Elizabeth thought of the blue velvety top that Teyla sometimes wore when trading off-world, then looked at the vivid colours of the clothing around them and shook her head. "We're so used to it here..."

Teyla's smile was wry, "In truth, I and my people have become accustomed to it while working with the expedition. And yet," one hand indicated the shop, "it is a poignant reminder."

"Well, find something to wear for tonight," Elizabeth said, both touched by Teyla's delight, and noting that it was nearly two o'clock. "Otherwise we'll be poignantly underdressed."

In the end, they found their dresses. Expensive, but stunning - especially Teyla's. Elizabeth was a little shocked at herself for allowing Teyla to purchase such a style for a state dinner. Still, as her grandfather had used to say, sometimes you should step back and blend in, and other times, you had to step out and take a gamble.

This was a gamble. But it was going to be an extremely enjoyable one if Elizabeth was right. Especially once the guys saw Teyla in her dress.

The best part of it was that Teyla was nearly oblivious to the stir - and Elizabeth didn't just mean 'commotion' - that her dress was causing in the guys. To her, it was beautiful fluid material in a cut similar to a dress she remembered on Athos, suitable for an evening of formalities in the muggy July weather of an evening in Washington, D.C.

To anyone who lived in noughties America, it was daring, sexy, and would have a large number of women of all ages chewing their livers before the night was out.

"Wow," Rodney managed, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He looked quite neat in his suit - not a tuxedo, but something with hints of brown in it that made him look less bleached than the military green usually did. Elizabeth grinned as the usually voluble scientist was lost for words.

"Nice," Ronon said with a grin. Teyla shot him a narrow look, almost as if she expected him to be making fun of her. He shrugged and turned to Elizabeth with eyes that suddenly seemed more wolfish than human. Abruptly, she wished she hadn't chosen red for her dress; black would have been better, less vivid - less noticeable. "You, too, Dr. Weir."

His words gave her a warm feeling inside, however understated the compliment. "Thank you, Ronon."

It seemed that Ronon did have an idea of how to behave like a gentleman, even if he played the savage in Atlantis. Certainly, to Elizabeth's mind, he looked barely more tame than usual in a Turkish shirt - the kind with the high, flat collar that circled his throat but didn't hide his tattoo - and black evening trousers that fit him nearly as well as his leathers usually did. Gold cufflinks gleamed at his wrists, his dreadlocks were tied back, and he looked...rakishly elegant.

John, it seemed, had opted out of the tuxedo or suit option, and was neat and smart in dress blues - although his hair looked no neater than it ever did. Right now, he was looking at Teyla as though he'd never seen her before. Which was decidedly odd, since Elizabeth figured he would have seen Teyla in her sparring outfits many times before - and this wasn't that much different.

"That's some dress," General O'Neill said with a slight grin on his face. He'd risen to his feet as the two women came in, and was now shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress uniform. "You both look beautiful, Dr. Weir, Ms. Emmagen."

Teyla's smile was brilliant. "Thank you, General O'Neill. Please, just call me 'Teyla.'"

O'Neill quirked an eyebrow and spread his hands wide. "Whatever you prefer, Teyla."

Silence permeated the room as they processed the question. "Why?" Elizabeth asked after a moment, bewildered.

She wasn't sure what kind of an answer she'd expected, but it certainly wasn't the answer he gave. "Someone's going to have to fight the guys off."

Elizabeth hid her smile as Teyla glared at Ronon. "You do not believe I can defend myself?" There was a dangerous note to her voice which didn't seem to faze her team-mate at all.

"I'm saying you might need a bit of help," Ronon said, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice that didn't disguise any of the mischief in it. Whether it was Teyla's reaction, the dress, or Teyla in the dress, Elizabeth didn't know - but the Satedan was definitely looking at the teasing potential.

And John still hadn't manage to get a word out. He was just standing there, looking at his team-mate with an expression that wasn't quite like he'd been smacked over the head with a wet fish, but came pretty close.

Elizabeth caught his eye and arched a brow at him as the General stepped into the conversation. "She might need some help at that. Although certainly not at defending yourself," he added when Teyla bristled. "Calm down, Teyla. God, you're as bad as Carter when McKay her suggests her theories have flaws." One hand pointed at Rodney as he opened his mouth. "Don't start!"

"Rodney," Elizabeth said, terminating his launch into full-fledged lecture mode, "please."

"Yes, Rodney," O'Neill said dryly, "please." He turned to John. "All right then. Now that you guys are assembled... Sheppard?"

"Sheppard, you're going to be looking after Teyla tonight as far as the social thing goes. I'm sure you'll do fine. Pretend to be a diplomatic aide or something."

John glanced at Teyla who was regarding him with a very direct, questioning gaze. After a split-second hesitation, he smiled. "We'll work it out," he said, relaxing a little. "Although I think I should get a knife. Just in case," he added hastily as Teyla's eyes narrowed.

"Then let's hope you picked them up in Atlantis," retorted General O'Neill. "Diplomacy, Sheppard. No incidents. Please."

There was no hope of stopping Rodney this time. "No incidents? I'm sorry? This is Sheppard we're talking about - the man whose personal vendetta with Kolya of the Gennii is already legendary!"

It was John's turn to glare - this time at Rodney. "Gee, McKay. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

General O'Neill smirked and clapped John on the shoulder. "You'll do fine. Just don't say anything that could get our funding cut or you might find yourself out in Atlantis without backup. Dr. Weir?"

"Your assignment is to keep an eye on Ronon here. Make sure he doesn't get creative with the cutlery."

"Then don't get creative at all," said the General with a pointed look. "You're here to meet the President, not cause an interplanetary crisis - we have enough of them around already." The intense, dark gaze took them all in. "Everyone's clear on the details?"

Elizabeth bit back a smile and saw that Rodney's team-mates were doing the same. Rodney opened his mouth, fielded a look from the General and shut up.

He'd shaken President Hayes' hand, spoken to the President's scientific advisor about R&D and funding issues for Atlantis, spent nearly half an hour arguing with Samantha Carter for old times' sake - okay, well, and new times' sake as well, and discovered that the wife of the French Ambassador had a double-degree in astrophysics and philosophy and only slightly less fluent in English than she was in French.

Rodney was so involved in the conversation with the Ambassador's wife (why hadn't he studied French in high school?) that he hardly noticed when Sheppard tapped him on the shoulder. "Teyla and I are out of here. We're going to check out a few sights of the city."

That gave Rodney pause. "Politics? Ronon? And we're not at war yet?" Sheppard coughed pointedly. "Oh, right. The whole leash thing. Okay. Well, have fun."

A little while later, Elizabeth came up to see him while he was getting a drink and wondering if he should hunt Samantha down and bounce a few ideas off her while he had the chance. It was all very well to send weekly reports, but some concepts wanted for a bit more interaction. "Rodney, where's John and Teyla?"

"Oh, I don't know. Somewhere out in the city. They ran off," he said, by way of explanation. "I think John barely managed to hold back a yawn all night."

"Yes, I noticed," Elizabeth said dryly. "Ronon and I are going to head back to the hotel."

"All right. Have fun. Don't let Ronon eat all the snack bar." While Elizabeth and Teyla had been shopping this afternoon, he, Sheppard, and Ronon had stayed in the air-conditioned hotel suite. A battle for the remote control had ensued, with the winner getting to watch their choice of programming. Ronon had inspected the hotel mini bar and managed to try just about everything before Sheppard realised and instructed Ronon in the Earth-concept of 'user pays.'

Elizabeth gave him a look as Ronon came up to them. "Do you have a key for the door?"

"Somewhere. I think." Rodney shrugged. "If I have to, I'll bang on the door until you let me in."

Rodney made a face at his team-mate, but ignored the comment. It was just the kind of thing he'd expect Ronon to say after hanging out with Sheppard so much. Could anyone spell 'hero-worship'?

He talked to various other people, and got involved in an argument with Samantha Carter that nearly involved having her knuckles surgically removed from Rodney's nose - she was a feisty one when she got her temper up.

Okay, so maybe he shouldn't have commented on her inability to form correct conclusions based on logical evidence. Then again, she'd commented on his inability to form polite conversation in social situations, so it all evened out - at least in his mind.

After a brief discussion with Dr. Jackson and a few words from General O'Neill, Rodney rode back to the hotel in the cab and headed up to his room, prepared to find Ronon parked in front of the television watching the Adult channel.

Rodney took no responsibility for that. That bit of Ronon's introduction to Earth culture was entirely Sheppard's fault.

As it turned out, the suite was silent when he came in and there was no sign that either set of his colleagues had made it back to the hotel. Figuring they'd gone out sightseeing, Rodney shrugged to himself and went to bed.

Novak's hiccups are driving me insane. I swear she starts up again every time I so much as look at her.

Where did you and Teyla vanish to after the dinner the other night? One minute you were there, the next Rodney said the two of you had left a message with him and gone off.

The first time we're on Earth in how long, with guests to the planet, and you just go back to the hotel and went to bed?

Teyla loved the clash of staves, the musical ring of wood on wood as she circled, attacking and defending. It was a tattoo in her mind, irregular and syncopated, familiar background as she spoke.

Ronon stepped back, blocking her strikes with solid wards. "Didn't really have time." His mouth pulled back in a tight grin. "You and Sheppard disappeared early."

She drew him high and to the right, then tried to slip in to the low left. "He expressed boredom with the proceedings and we left as soon as possible." She locked her wrist as one staff blocked hers while the other staff batted her other hand away.

"A nightclub." The word was still unfamiliar on her lips for all that she'd spent the better part of the night in various ones.

"Wasn't Sheppard wearing his uniform?" Ronon punctuated his words with an attack, bounding in to engage, then dropping back to circle again. "Not exactly casual clothing."

"We went back to the hotel so he could dress in casual clothing, then took one of their taxis to the club district."

"Hmf." Ronon got in a blow against her arm, she retaliated with a rap across his wrist. "Have fun?"

Teyla remembered the throng of dancers, people laughing and talking, the heat and energy of the place, so carelessly different to anything she'd ever known. She could not deny that it had been attractive in its own way - another aspect of vibrant life and brilliant living. "Yes. You?"

"Not really. Elizabeth dealt with most of the conversation - she's good at that."

"It is her job." She couldn't quite stifle the smile that ventured onto her lips. "And afterwards?"

Dark eyes narrowed at her and he circled around, striking wide and hard. "We went back to the hotel."

She give him no answer. Instead, she drew him on, block for blow, blow for block, pleased by the fight and amused by what she knew.

Not until they were finished, having drawn to an exhausted standstill, did Ronon repeat his question to her. "You never said what you were expecting."

Teyla screwed the lid back onto her water bottle and reached into her bag with a smile. She displayed the item to him, and his eyes opened wide as she tossed it to him. The morning sunlight glittered off the gold cufflink, and he caught it with ease.

"You left it behind in Elizabeth's room," she said, amused to see the surprise scrawled across his face -amused to have something with which to delicately reference for his understanding - just to watch him squirm a little.

As she picked up her bag and made to leave the gym, she paused. He looked up, both rueful at being caught out and wary of what she was going to say.

Teyla smiled demurely. "I did say the journey to Earth would be memorable, did I not?"

And with nothing more than a very broad smile, she sauntered back to the central city.