A/N: This story takes place in Series 3, sometime after "42" for the Doctor and Martha, and during Season 4 of Stargate Atlantis. All rights property of the BBC and/or MGM.

In which they all get caught.

The Doctor woke up lying face down on the floor. Something hard was pressing into his rib cage, and after a moment, he realized it was his hand, balled into a fist and completely numb. It took considerably more effort than he would have liked, but he managed to pull it out. With a little more coaxing, his fingers began to flex, feeling slowly returning. The rest of him remained motionless on the floor, his brain clearing out the fog of unconsciousness and taking stock of the situation.

He was alive. Always a good place to start. And, yes, as an added bonus, all in one piece. Even better. True, his body ached so badly that he could barely move, and his head felt as if someone had driven a nail through it, but he was pretty sure he'd had worse. And, as quickly as consciousness was returning, the pain was fading. With a groan, he opened his eyes and hauled himself to a sitting position. Much better. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and looked around. He was in a small, bare room. The dim lighting had a purplish tint to it, and seemed to come from no specific place. The floor was hard, cold, and a little dirty. The walls seemed to be made of some sort of organic material-looking almost, yet not quite enough, like flesh. Then he saw the door and sighed. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up in a prison cell, battered, sore, and with no idea why he was there. That didn't worry him. Neither did his inability to remember a thing after being grabbed by that energy beam, nor did the fact that he had no clue where it had even come from. He could figure all that out later. No, what worried him was the fact that he had woken up in this cold, dark, little prison cell on his own, and there was no sign of Martha Jones.

He jumped to his feet and walked to the door, pushing his head as far as he could manage through the oddly twisted bars. Outside was a corridor, made of the same material as his cell, but a little better lit. Doors like the one he was poking his head through were set in the walls at periodic intervals, presumably leading to more cells. He couldn't manage to see into any of them. "Martha?" he called hopefully. No response. "Martha?" Louder this time, but still nothing. He pulled back in, propping his arms on the bars with a sigh. Suddenly, he frantically began feeling the pockets of his coat, then let out a disappointed hiss. No sonic screwdriver. His plans of escape and searching for Martha suddenly seemed a lot less feasible. And, though he wouldn't have admitted it to Martha if she had been there, his head still hurt. Today just wasn't going well at all.

ONE HOUR AGO

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard shifted the weight of the P-90 hanging from his shoulder, exhaling contentedly. For once, they had a mission go off without a hitch. They'd made peaceful contact with the locals, laid the groundwork for future negotiations-with a good chance of getting some Ancient technology thrown in, by the way, and they'd pulled it all off without anyone getting shot. Now he was taking a nice, leisurely walk back to the Stargate in good weather and good company-today seemed to be going pretty well. Well, almost. He turned towards the loud grumbling behind him and shouted, "Pick up the pace, McKay!"

"Yeah! I'd like to get back before all the food's gone," added Ronon with a grin.

"Oh, yeah, nice. Yell at the man loaded down with valuable, and might I add, heavy, bags of equipment," McKay snapped irritably.

"It's your own fault for bringing it all, and you know it," Sheppard shot back good-naturedly.

"I still don't see why we couldn't have parked closer to the village," Rodney panted.

"Same reason I told you on the way there. Too many trees. And that EM shield you pointed out."

"Okay. Trees, sure. But the EM field doesn't stretch nearly this far. We didn't have to park right by the Gate. I mean, look at all this room." He gestured at the meadow they were walking through.

"Just step it up, would ya Rodney? We're almost there."

"I'm going as fast as I can."

"I have seen you go faster than that," Teyla pointed out.

"Yes. When I'm running for my life," Rodney shot back.

"I could chase you back to the Gate," Ronon offered, waving his gun helpfully.

"Oh, yes, offer to shoot me. That'll make me feel better."

Teyla grinned, but said nothing, wisely keeping out of the building argument. John just shook his head and kept walking. He could count on Teyla to keep things diplomatic. He tuned them out, knowing that when Rodney's voice reached that squeak of outrage, she would step in and calm them both down. He wasn't going to let Rodney's griping spoil the first perfect day he'd had in weeks. Although… Now that they were out from that EM shield the locals had, he really should have heard from Lorne by now. Lorne never missed a check in. He clicked his radio. "Lorne, this is Sheppard, come in." Static. "Lorne!"

The silence stretched on, and just as he was about to try again, Lorne's voice crackled over the radio, "Sorry, sir. We ran into some trouble back there, too busy running to talk."

"Running? What's your situation?" All of Sheppard's earlier good mood vanished. He was vaguely aware of the argument stopping abruptly behind him as the rest of the team heard the message.

"We've got Wraith, sir. Three Darts, came through the Gate about twenty minutes ago. When we couldn't get you on the radio, we took cover."

"Good thinking, Major. Where are they now?"

"Not sure, sir. They flew off towards the village, but we've heard them pass by a few times since then. I think they're circling the area. The first Dart left after they snatched up one or two of the locals, although we managed to save one of them. Two Darts still unaccounted for."

"Copy that. We're on our way to you. Get to the jumper, and the first chance you get to go through that Gate, you take it, even if we're not back. Copy?"

"Sir…"

"That's an order, Major."

"Yes sir. Good luck. Lorne out."

Sheppard turned back to his team. "Alright, you heard the man, people. Let's move! Rodney, if you don't absolutely need it, drop it!"

"Already dropped!" Rodney had abandoned his load and was off, Ronon and Teyla on his heels.

The Stargate came into view over the crest of a slope, the event horizon swirling blue. Evidently the Wraith still had the Gate open-Lorne was crouched at the door of the still-cloaked jumper, gun out and ready for cover, waving them forward. For a brief instant, Sheppard allowed himself to hope they might make it. Then he heard the swooping buzz of the darts. He glanced behind him and saw the pale blue culling beam blazing its way relentlessly towards them. Ronon tried to shove Rodney out of the way as the first Dart swooped by, but it was too quick, scooping up both of them.

"Colonel, look out!" yelled Lorne, and Sheppard leapt to the right, narrowly avoiding the beam of the first ship as it whizzed past them and on through the Gate. He cursed and put on a burst of speed, aware of Teyla still behind him, but both of them unable to outrun the second Dart. The last thing he saw wasn't Lorne, yelling from the jumper door, but something farther back in the woods, bright blue and wooden, and his last thought was how out of place it looked there. Then everything went black.