It was supposed to be a mission of exploration. Meet the inhabitants of a planet Teyla's people had not traded with in a long time and, perhaps, establish trade relations.

Why is it, Colonel John Sheppard of the Atlantis Expedition thought, the really simple missions end up being the cluster-fucks?

Currently, Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex and Rodney McKay were caught in a forcefield 'cage'. No walls, just energy, surrounded them and the only thing to let them know it was the ring of blue light on the ground. On all sides were men who looked like Jaffa without all the armor and one petite woman dressed in dark clothes.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Colonel John Sheppard." he answered, his eyes studying her as she circled around them.

Her hair was long and red, braided down her back. Her shirt opened at the collar but revealed nothing. She wore a kind of medieval shield made of what looked like thick leather and guarded her right shoulder and extended down her arm to her hand. Her waist was cinched into a matching belt and her dark-clad legs disappeared in and out of a long-slit skirt of silver mesh that reminded Sheppard of chain mail without the thickness. Her left hand rested comfortably on the handle of a weapon tucked into the holster on her belt.

"Welcome, Colonel John Sheppard," she smiled. "To my humble village."

"What village?" McKay grumbled. They were near a stone structure, but there was no 'village' in sight.

She stopped circling to stare at him with intense blue eyes. "And you are?"

"Doctor Rodney McKay," he said, impatiently.

Her eyebrows rose and she rocked back on her heels. "Doctor, huh? Perhaps you could teach me something useful, like stitching."

McKay's frown deepened. "What?"

"Well, I've been in situations, in the past, that knowing how to sew a wound would have come in handy. Maybe you could teach me."

"I'm not that kind of doctor."

Her eyebrows drew together and she stepped closer to the forcefield. "Is there more than one kind of doctor?"

"Yes," McKay snapped. "I'm the other kind. A Ph.D. - Philosophiae Doctor"

"Philosophiae….Wisdom? No…Is it…" She thought for a moment then squinted at him. "Thought? Doctor of thought? So you just sit around thinking about stuff?"

Sheppard couldn't help a chortle. He regained control of himself quickly, but not before McKay shot him a look.

"Yes. I just sit around thinking. About stuff." McKay's tone was classic McKay, dripping sarcasm.

She looked over at Sheppard. "What…kind of good does that do anybody? How useful is that?" She looked at Ronon. "You let him follow you around, thinking? Are your brains somehow deficient?"

"I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name," Sheppard asked, his patience wearing thin.

She grinned sidelong at him. "That's probably because I didn't throw it."

Before the men could say another word, Teyla spoke in her best peacekeeper's voice. "I am Teyla. We are peaceful explorers. What is your name?"

She looked Teyla up and down, with her hand resting comfortably on the weapon tucked inside her belt. "And you," she narrowed her eyes. "Do you let this man think for you?"

This seemed to strike a nerve and Teyla pulled herself reed straight. Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows rose as she tilted her head to respond. "I think for myself. But we are a team."

The woman smiled broadly. "I am sure you are. I will tell you this. My name is Areina. I believe that you are Genii. Or if you are not, you are like them. For that reason, alone, you stand here my prisoners."

"Genii?!" Sheppard spat. "We are definitely not Genii. And we're not anything like them."

She moved away and took his P-90 from the hands of a particularly large, dark man. She examined it in her right hand, then looked back at him. "This technology looks like theirs."

"We are not Genii." Teyla said. "We have had our conflicts with the Genii. Our weapons come from very far away."

She handed the weapon back to her man and turned toward them, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. "How far?"

"Very." McKay spat.

There were grumbles to the left and right, but Areina raised her gloved hand to her chin and the sound stopped.

"Rodney," Sheppard admonished. "Perhaps this isn't the time to be on your 'best' behavior."

"Maybe this a good time for you to just shut up," Ronon glared at McKay.

"Oh, excuse me! Am I the only one who finds this situation laughable, at best?" McKay scoffed. "Xena, here, has us imprisoned for having technology higher than the average medieval serf and is comparing us to the Genii! Then she expects us to tell her where we're from! Why? So she and her friends can go pillaging for plunder?"

Areina approached McKay and stared at him as he spoke until he suddenly became self-conscious.

"What?" he frowned.

"It seems, for someone whose purpose is to think, you have no thoughts about what comes from your mouth," she commented softly. "It is a wonder the members of your 'team' have not killed you yet."

McKay blanched. "What? They wouldn't…why would they?"

Areina smile returned, but it was cold. "Because you are irritating and your words could get them killed."

She motioned to her men. "See that they are fed and put in the Cells until I figure out what should be done with them."

As soon as the forcefield was down, Ronon jumped into action faster than a flash of light. Producing a knife from who knows where, he slashed one guard, then another. Teyla and Sheppard joined in the fight. They were dramatically out numbered but Areina, soon, called out "Stop!"

Sheppard glanced over to see Ronon, easily a foot taller than Areina, holding her by the braid with a knife at her throat. She looked up at him and smiled, sweetly. Ronon smiled back, but in a deadly way. Areina's right hand came up and traced its way seductively up his bicep. He didn't take his eyes off of hers and she didn't break eye contact.

"It seems you've got me," she said, softly. "Or do you?"

A bolt of light raced from her hand across his shoulders and he stiffened and fell to her feet. Then her men retook Sheppard, Teyla and McKay into custody.

Areina looked down at Ronon. "Take this one to my chambers. Bind him good. Take the rest to the Cells. Separate them."

She then turned her back to Sheppard and the rest to further inspect their weapons.

Sheppard struggled. "Wait!"

Teyla put her hand out to him. "John, Ronon lives or she would not have told her men to take him to her quarters."

Sheppard looked at the men dragging Ronon off, then back to Teyla, who narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if to say "Let it go, for now."

Sheppard let himself and the others be led off to their awaiting prison.

x

Voices woke Ronon Dex, who found he was sitting in a chair, securely tied from the wrists to the elbows and at the ankles. He continued to feign unconsciousness in hopes that he could gather intelligence on his captors from the conversation being held.

Areina sat comfortably in a large wooden chair, looking at the men before her. Her tone was strong. "The next time I tell you to disarm someone, I mean for you to be thorough. This one had six more knives on his person. At least four should have been found during the initial check."

Her tone softened slightly. "Your only job is to protect your sovereign. The people have decided that this is to be your only job. You are well fed, well cared-for, and well paid for this responsibility. IF this man had succeeded in killing me, it would have been on your heads."

The men bowed before her and a huge, muscle-bound, dark-skinned one offered to give up his position as head of the royal guard.

Areina stood and knelt with him. "Imogrim," she said. "Do not think that way. I only want to know that I can count on you to be more thorough in the future. No one can lead these men as well as you."

She stood. "Now leave us. Our guest has awakened and I wish to speak to him alone."

Ronon's head came up once his ruse was discovered.

"My lady," Imogrim began to protest. The huge muscles in his upper arms flexed as his fists clenched.

She smiled. "Do not worry," she said. "He has been thoroughly inspected. He has no weapon that can do any real harm." She grinned over at Ronon, who suddenly realized that he was wearing only his pants. "Station yourselves outside. I will call you if you are needed."

After the men left, Areina turned to look at him. She, then, moved to a nearby table and poured liquid into a cup. She brought it to him and knelt in front of him. "Drink."

She held the cup to his lips and he drank. It was cool, clean water and he drained the cup. Then his green eyes met her blue ones.

"Thank you," he said, guarded.

She smiled. "You are surprised that I would be kind to you after you tried to kill me."

Ronon smiled, menacingly. "If I was trying to kill you, you'd be dead."

Areina studied his face and pursed her lips, even as her eyes laughed. "Of that," she stood. "I am sure." Her eyes turned more serious. "You hurt two of my men. So why are you still alive?"

"You want information."

She moved back to the table where she had previously gotten the water and pulled a small round fruit from a vine on a plate and, thoughtfully, put it into her mouth.

While her back was turned, Ronon took the opportunity to look at her again. She was clothed a bit differently. Gone was the collared shirt, holster, shoulder armor and mail skirt. Now she wore a V-necked shirt that clung to womanly curves and pants than did the same, disappearing into heeled boots.

Ronon felt something stir inside him and pushed it back. He had to focus on getting himself free so he could free his team.

Areina refilled the cup without looking at Ronon. "You are not like the others."

Ronon's face was devoid of expression, other than the glare he was giving her before the statement was made.

"There is something more primal about you. More wild. You actually remind me of a Wraith runner."

Ronon's eyes narrowed. "What do you know of runners?"

She turned to face him fully. "I know that they are hunted by the Wraith for sport. I know that most do not live long and I know that they never stay in one place or with one people for any length of time. To do so would mean certain death for any around them."

Her eyes held his. "Their technology is great if they can feel safe with a runner among them."

Ronon's eyes were defiant.

She smiled and moved toward him, pulling a chair with her. She sat down opposite of him with one of her knees on the outside and one on the inside of his right leg. She held the cup to his lips and he drank again. When it was empty, she set the cup on the floor.

"Tell me about your friends," she said, softly. She placed her hands on his knees and looked up at him, completely non-threatening. "Where did you all come from? Are they allied with the Genii?"

"I won't tell you anything other than what you've already been told." Ronon smiled. "There's nothing you can do; I've been tortured by the best."

She smiled at this and moved her hands from his knees, upwards on his thighs. She leaned close and whispered into his ear. "Not every form of torture is the same."

She touched her lips to his softly. He resisted. Her tongue traced his lower lip, teasing, tickling, as her hands began to move upward on his thighs in feather-light touches.

Despite his best intentions, his body began to respond and he began to welcome her kiss, which became deeper.

He broke the kiss and growled. "Untie me."

She smiled and moved to straddle his lap. "Why? So you can kill me?"

Again, he smiled. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

Her hands cupped his face and she gently kissed him again. As the kiss deepened, he felt a warmth in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was dangerous to his sanity, not to mention him control.

"My lady!" a voice called out from the doorway.

Areina slowly broke the kiss and looked toward the door. She stood in such a way that he could fully appreciate her womanly curves, and moved off of him. She looked down at him and smiled. Then she picked up his jacket from the nearby chair and tossed it on his lap with a wink.

"I'll be back," she whispered in his ear as she walked away.

Ronon was seriously pissed, now. Not only at being captured and bound, but also at his own body's betrayal. He began to struggle to loosen his bonds.