A/N: I decided to tackle Jennifer's decision of Rodney over Ronon. This time I'm giving the Big guy a little someone different to confide in. -Punk

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or The Civil Wars

You thought you'd found a good girl
One to love you and give you the world
Now you find that you've been misused
Talk to me, I'll do what you choose, I want you to

Tell Mama, all about it
Tell Mama, what you need
Tell Mama, what you want
And I'll make everything alright

Tell Mama – The Civil Wars

Ronon looked around the marketplace, bored. He was always bored during these types of information gathering missions.

He'd jumped at the chance to come on the mission when Sheppard came to him, but now he was cursing his own cabin fever. He'd needed fresh air and room to stretch his legs. Needed time away from Atlantis. From the people.

Person.

No...people. And 'jumped' probably wasn't the right word either.

"Hey, Ronon."

Ronon glanced over his shoulder and saw Sheppard jogging to catch up to him in the hall outside the gym.

"We got a lead on an information trader on MGX-854. He might know about some ZPMs, you want to go check it out?"

Yes, he did, and he opened his mouth to say so, but hesitated. It had only been a week since that extremely awkward conversation with Jennifer where she'd told him he was a complete idiot and of course she was interested in someone else.

She hadn't said that, but that was what he'd heard.

Ever since he'd been avoiding the infirmary like the plague. Even holding back when sparring a little, not wanting to not injure himself and be forced to go.

But that wasn't all he'd been avoiding. He'd also avoided the lab level, not wanting to risk running into Rodney. He'd gone so far as to start eating at the busiest times because he knew Rodney avoided the Mess when it was crowded.

He was being selfish. And a coward, he knew. But the wound was still open and raw and he didn't really care about how it looked yet.

"I don't know." He said finally at John's expectant look. He wasnt ready to face Rodney on a mission where, without threat of battle, Rodney was likely to do a lot of talking. About food and science and his new love life.

John's eyebrows stitched together and he bit his lip. "Okay." He started to walk away and Ronon didn't move, feeling just the slightest bit guilty that he was letting personal feelings get in the way of his duty.

"Well if you decide to come," John turned back around, pinning Ronon with a gaze that was more insightful than he expected. "We're going to be in the gateroom in half an hour. It's just me and Teyla. Rodney has more important things to do, I guess."

He shrugged one shoulder and Ronon watched John's back as he left, realizing he was not as good at hiding things as he used to be.

A half an hour later, he was waiting in the gate room when John and Teyla showed up.

"Well, that actually wen't pretty well." John commented, looking pleased.

"Yes. Five gate addresses with possible ZPMs for five medical kits is more than fair." Teyla smiled back at him.

Ronon didn't turn to look at them. Toward the edge of the village square he'd seen something. A flash of grey hair and high cheekbones. For an instant something deep inside him stirred.

"Ronon?" Teyla followed the taller man's narrowed gaze and surveyed the busy marketplace, but saw nothing.

Ronon's eyes remained fixed on a point in the distance, a confused, slightly suspicious frown marring his brow.

John's gaze connected with Teyla's and he shifted toward the Satedan, surveying the crowd with more purpose than before, trying to pinpoint what it was that had suddenly made Ronon so tense.

"Buddy, whats going on? You see something?"

Ronon shook his head once. "I don't know."

Then, without another word, he began weaving his way through the crowd toward the end of the square. John nodded at Teyla who immediately moved to follow, he took some comfort in the fact that Ronon's blaster was still firmly in place in it's holster, but his gut was still doing preemptive flip-flops.

Up ahead Ronon had again caught sight of the grey hair he'd seen. It was nearly waist length and partially pinned up onto her head with an intricate combination of braids that twisted and sat on top of her crown in a fashion he hadn't seen in years.

He tilted his head, catching a glimpse of the older woman's profile just before she disappeared into a small house at the end of the lane.

The wide market square narrowed into a cobbled path and small one story houses with thatched roofs lining either side. The din of talking and laughter in the marketplace faded behind them, this lane was empty and quiet as it was rarely used except by the handful of people who lived there.

Ronon stopped outside the arched wooden door the woman had gone through. Before he could fully think it through, he raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Behind and to his left, Teyla raised an eyebrow, meeting John's eyes briefly just as the door was opened.

"Hello?" A young woman of no more than twenty pulled the door open partway, eyeing the strangers with uncertainty. "Can I help you?"

Ronon cleared his throat, suddenly uncertain. He hadn't gone to the wrong door, had he?

"I'm um, I was looking for..." He trailed off as the girl shifted her weight and a piece of jewelry she wore on a leather cord around her neck slid into view. He narrowed his eyes.

"Are you Satedan?"

The girl's hand went to her necklace and locks of dark brown hair fell forward when she glanced down at it.

"Yes." She played with the gemstone thoughtfully, her eyes falling to the tattoo on his neck. "You are too?"

Ronon licked his lips, nodding. His heart rate quickened just a little, as it always did when they stumbled upon people from his home-world. It happened so rarely, he was startled and excited every time.

"I um, I thought I saw someone before." He tilted his head, "Is there someone else here? Someone...older?" He realized how awkward that must have sounded and the girl's eyebrows came together in confusion. He was saved from having to clarify by the sound of another voice from deeper inside the house.

"Siria?" A female voice called from inside. "Siria, who's at the door?"

The young woman turned to face inside the house.

"I don't know." She looked back at Ronon, then Teyla and John. "But they are with a Satedan. He's a Specialist."

Ronon shifted his weight, standing a little bit taller at having been referred to by his title.

"A Satedan." The voice repeated, getting closer to the door. "A Satedan Specialist?"

Siria stepped back and opened the door further to make room for the person attached to the voice. A tall woman of about sixty ducked through the short arched doorway to enter the bright sunlight of the cobbled alley. Up close Ronon could see for sure now that her grey hair was braided and pinned on top of her head in a traditional Satedan style. She wore the clothes of the people of this world, with a similar piece of Satedan jewelry hanging from her neck.

The woman faced John and Teyla, not having noticed Ronon standing to one side of the doorway.

"You are not Satedan." She frowned, creasing deep wrinkles in her tanned skin that showed her age, framing flashing green eyes that didn't.

John opened his mouth to quip an answer but Teyla stepped forward, smiling politely.

"No, we are not, but perhaps you know our friend?" She gestured over the woman's shoulder toward Ronon.

The moment she turned around Ronon's heart froze in his chest and his mouth fell open. Equally startled, the older woman gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Alarmed, Siria stepped forward, placing a worried hand on her shoulder.

"What is it?"

The woman ignored her, her eyes still locked on Ronon, who was frowning, his eyes roaming her face in confusion.

"Ronon?" The woman whispered.

"But you're dead." He rasped, wondering why it was after all this time his eyes had finally decided to betray him.

She reached forward, her hand trembling just slightly as she tried to touch his cheek. Ronon jerked backward out of her reach. Almost as afraid that she would be real as he was that she would turn out to be a figment if his imagination. If she didn't touch him he could live in limbo a little bit longer.

At Ronon's sudden motion Sheppard tensed his hands on his weapon.

"Ronon, who is this?" He asked warily.

Ronon shook his head minutely, still trying to process what he was seeing.

"A ghost." He ground out, searching the green eyes that bored into his own. Eyes that were burned in his memory so well it physically ached sometimes when he caught sight of them in the mirror.

The woman straightened at that, indignant. Then, in a flash of movement no one quite expected, her open palm darted forward and slapped him.

"Hey!" Sheppard and Teyal both stepped forward.

Ronon hadn't moved except for the way his eyebrows shot up in surprise, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He touched his cheek.

Unbothered by the armed strangers at her back, the woman glowered at Ronon, waggling a long, elegant, bony finger in his face.

"I taught you better than that Ronon'kaffa Dex."

Like a light switch, Ronon's entire demeanor changed. His face split into one of those staggering grins and he leapt forward, wrapping his long arms around the woman in a bear hug with such force he briefly lifted her off the ground.

The woman exclaimed and laughed, hugging him back ferociously, a few happy tears slipping down her cheeks.

Ronon laughed, twirling in a circle, eyes screwed shut against an onslaught of emotion.

Johns glanced at Siria, but the girl looked as cautiously amused as he felt.

"Camaiya? Who is this man?" She questioned after the two had begun to calm down.

The older woman, having been placed back on her feet, wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes.

"Siria, this is Ronon. Ronon, Siria."

Ronon barely nodded in the young woman's direction, instead opting to wave Teyla and John closer.

"This is my team. Teyla, John, meet Camaiya Dex." He beamed down at the woman beside him. "My mother."

TBC