A/N: This story came about rather differently than usual. Frankius17 came to me with a great story idea and a fairly specific outline and asked if I would write to those specifications. I agreed, thinking it would be an interesting challenge to work with characters I might never have thought to explore. In the end, that original outline is still "here" in essence, but got a whole lot added to it, so I thank Frankius17 both for patience (it took me months to get to) and flexibility in letting me adapt that original idea - I hope you like it. Even if the story is not what you imagined, I really and truly thank you for the prompt. I have quite enjoyed getting to know Maj. Anne Teldy.

Major's Day Out - Story by Frankius17; written by T'Pring

Major Anne Teldy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked into the ready room as if she weren't a heartbeat from a nervous giggle.

"Majors don't giggle," she told herself, firmly. Not that she was truly prone to such things. As a six year veteran of the stargate program, she had proven herself as both offworld operative and – for the past three years – 'gate team leader. But she'd been on Atlantis for all of three weeks and had already broken two of her hard and fast rules: 1. Never submit to hero worship – your commanders and colleagues are just as human as you are and to put anyone on a pedestal creates the temptation of self-comparison and self-doubt. 2. Never compete with your colleagues – it makes you do stupid stuff and leads to self-doubt. And besides, you're on the same team.

"Good morning, Major!" called Maj. Lorne from in front of his locker across the room. Damn! He got here first! She instantly squashed the feeling of annoyance and repeated rule number two to herself as she dumped her armful of gear onto the bench in front of hers.

"Major," she replied formally. Lorne smiled with an ease that came with confidence and familiarity and she had to fight back a prick of jealousy – she was far from the easiness of Atlantis' 2nd in command.

"You can call me Evan when the boss isn't around. There's few enough of us on this base to stand on formality all the time."

"Thanks, Evan." Offering his name was a respectful gesture, he seemed genuine in doing it. Damn him. Not only was he easygoing and confident, but he was nice too.

"You go by anything other than Major?" Lorne asked a minute or so later, after she'd gotten engrossed in prepping her gear for a quick and organized muster, determined to live up to this unit's high standards. She blushed and rolled her eyes in apology.

"Sorry! God, my head is somewhere else today, Major. I mean Evan. Most people call me Teldy. I've been known to answer to Anne, but I grew up with a pack of brothers and when they call me Anne," she made her voice high and mocking, "I usually end up smacking them."

"I guess I'll stick with Teldy, then," Lorne replied with a chuckle then threw her a sidelong look, "You worried about the mission? 'Cause I'd be happy to answer any questions you have…now?" He was smiling encouragingly and she felt even guiltier for feeling so damn competitive in his presence.

"Not about the mission, really," she answered truthfully, then turned to fidget with her gear. "More worried about the implications."

"Implications?" Lorne seemed genuinely puzzled.

She put down the boot she was holding and turned to give him her full attention. "Is this mission some kind of test? Or…or hazing maybe? Because if Colonel Sheppard thinks he's going to catch me off guard or scare me off," she planted her hands on her hips, "he's mistaken."

Lorne's face went surprised, then thoughtful. "No hazing. I promise," he answered firmly with a grin tugging at his lips. "But, just maybe a test."

Anne's breath hitched with a flare of temper, "What kind of test?"

"Sheppard takes a couple of us senior officers out for a run every quarter or so."

"That often?" She was surprised. The top brass at the SGC pretty much left the gate teams to themselves, offworld. Was Sheppard that much of a control freak? That didn't jibe with what she'd heard about him.

"Yeah. He always says it's just to boost morale, get re-acquainted, that sort of thing. Touchy feely crap. But I've always gotten the impression that he's checking out more than morale."

Anne stepped closer, "So what is he looking for? Performance evaluation? Stress management? Does he expect us to kiss his ass? What?" She blushed again, belatedly wishing she could snatch that last back out of the air. As nice as Lorne seemed, she didn't know him well enough to know if he was the type that would repeat ill considered comments. He just cocked his head.

"There are only four Majors on Atlantis – two to command the Marine units," he pointed at Teldy, "and two to keep the flyboys in line." He pointed to himself. "Seventy-five percent of the time, we're cut off from Earth. Sheppard's in the field a lot, leaving one of us in charge at least three days out of seven. Sometimes more, depending on how exciting Pegasus gets. Any one of us could be called to take command of Atlantis more…permanently in a worst case scenario." Lorne trailed off, letting the familiar mantra of officer preparedness stand as his answer. Anne nodded solemnly. She was familiar with Sheppard's historic year of pulling off that exact scenario. Everyone was.

"So he's looking for command readiness, to see if we're fit for the big chair in an emergency."

Lorne smiled slightly, then shrugged. "Something like that. We call it Major's Day Out. Leave the kiddies behind, you know? You're new, so that's why you're on the list today, but don't feel singled out. We all go out a couple times a year."

He went back to his packing and Anne couldn't help but think he was holding something back. That knot of frustration twisted again and she attacked her own gear with an even more ferocious desire to prove herself to this unit, to Colonel Sheppard and most especially to Colonel Carter. If he wanted command readiness, she'd give him command readiness.

At least the Colonel had picked a mission she felt truly prepared for. She'd grown up in Ft. Greely Alaska, daughter of a Cold Regions Test Center Army Drill Sergeant. She and her brothers knew more about field stripping a rifle wearing cold weather gear than the poor lower 48 schmucks did after a full year of training. She'd been commissioned through the ROTC at University of Alaska and returned to the same program her father had served. When Greely had been repurposed in 2001 and began to report to SMDC in Colorado Springs, Anne had been tapped for the SGC during one of her command briefing visits.

As she stuffed extra pairs of her favorite synthetic wool socks and glove liners into her rucksack, she mused on the advanced technology in her pile that her father would have killed for. She and Lorne were both dressed in one-piece undersuits that resembled wetsuits in color and appearance, although not as tight. The sleek, black fabric was a little stretchy and opened from thigh to chin with a very cool, alien-funky, zipper-like seal. The material was supposed to breathe, but Anne already felt it catching and holding her body heat.

The undersuit was actually the first layer of the space suits they would be wearing on the arctic planet they planned to visit. Anne wasn't sure which race they'd "borrowed" the suits from, but, in combination with the outer layer, it would be completely weather proof (designed to protect in complete vacuum after all), very light and flexible. Anne had recommended leaving the hard-shell helmets behind in favor of ordinary balaclavas and ski goggles.

Captain Vega entered the room a few minutes later and also received a warm greeting from Lorne. Just as Anne was zipping up her pack, Colonel Sheppard, followed closely by Dr. McKay and Colonel Carter poured through the door. Vega and Sheppard were both dressed in the black undersuits, the Colonel looking as fit and lean in the not-tight-but-not-exactly-forgiving clothing as the Captain who was fifteen years his junior.

Anne was definitely not as curvy as the young, dark haired, pony-tailed, Vega, but she took pride in acing her PTs and was pleased that Sheppard – much closer to her own age – didn't seem like one of those top brass types that let themselves go and depended on their juniors to bail them out when things got physical.

"So you'll remember to bring back all the memory crystals you find and download anything in permanent storage into the laptop?" McKay was saying as he hovered at Sheppard's shoulder like some kind of playground pest.

"You want to go instead, McKay?" Sheppard retorted, his tone sharp but his expression light. He jerked his pack up onto the bench and snatched for his shoulder holster out of his locker. "Cause if you don't stop nagging me, I'm dragging you along without a snowsuit."

"Fine. But if I find out you've blown anything up before I get there, I'll –."

"You'll what?" Sheppard interrupted, suddenly stepping into McKay's space and shoving his 9mm into the holster under his arm with a menacing thrust. McKay didn't flinch.

"Threatened the man wearing grandpa's underwear… I'll think of something. This is the first Wraith outpost we've had a chance at since we discovered they know how to create clone armies. Who knows what other interesting historical facts Todd might be keeping from us. We need all the intel we can get."

Anne watched the interplay, while trying not to look like she was listening in. McKay's bad temper and Sheppard's handling of the touchy scientist was legendary on Atlantis.

"I think I've got a handle on the mission requirements, Rodney. I just need to be sure that you're sure the place is deserted."

"Well of course I can't be sure¸ sure. Wraith hibernate for centuries, remember? We see no life signs readings, but the outpost is shielded, so we might not see anything even if they were awake."

"Great," Sheppard muttered, returning to his last minute preparations.

"Look, once you get in and turn off the shield and the automated defenses that are keeping the jumpers away, we'll be able to run full sensor scans and provide luxury transportation in and out."

"And while we can't be certain, we do know that no hive ships have approached that planet for the past two years." Colonel Samantha Carter spoke from where she'd propped her back up against a corner of a locker.

Anne was having a hard time not snapping to attention, out of pure excitement. Carter went on, sounding amused, "That, combined with the orbital survey you made and the deteriorated condition of the physical structure of the outpost itself, gives us a pretty good hint that the place is empty. There's no rush on this one. You don't have to squeeze this in right now if you don't want to," she added with an odd quality to her voice that made Anne wonder if there was something else going on.

Sheppard had just returned from personal leave, Anne remembered suddenly. He'd gotten back a week after she'd processed in. She turned to watch him carefully, gauging his response to the hint. If there was something going on that Carter was worried about, then that worried Anne. Sheppard just grinned.

"I know," he answered lightly. "But McKay's right, we could use the intel. We've been watching this place for months. Might as well go clean it out. Besides, Teldy here has been whining to get out of here. Might as well kill both birds - get her signed off for gate duty and use her expertise on this iceball at the same time."

"Hey! I wasn't whining!…sir! I never – ." Anne cut herself off abruptly, but her fists were clenched and she was mortified by the Colonel's implication that she'd acted impatiently – in front of Carter! Carter, however, rolled her eyes and lifted a placating hand. She strolled over to put her shoulder casually next to Anne's locker. Anne threw her a pleading look and Carter chuckled.

"S'Ok, Major. John's the one who's eager to get you into the field and so am I."

"Oh. Thank you, ma'am."

"You settling in?"

Anne couldn't help but grin, finding herself quickly mollified by Carter's casual attention. That was the problem with breaking rule number one. She over-reacted like an idiot. Anne had idolized Carter since the SGC. It was a big enough place that she'd never met the Colonel personally until Carter had greeted her the day she arrived on Atlantis, but the woman's contribution to the legend of SG-1 was as amazing as the team itself. Anne admired her for all the right reasons, and for a few suspect ones: she'd had few women role models in her career and Carter was one she'd felt secure in adopting. Serving directly under her hero was turning out to be both blessing and excruciatingly awkward.

"I'm doing well, yes, ma'am." Anne really hoped she didn't sound too breathy as she tried to talk to Carter like any other soldier. "The facilities are truly beautiful, and I'm impressed with how smoothly things seem to run."

Carter rolled her eyes and leaned close. She shot a mischievous look at Colonel Sheppard as she said, "I admit, it took me a while to get used to Sheppard's style. He's a lot less formal than the SGC and he delegates a lot more than I was used to. But it works, here. I've come to realize how flexible you have to be in such a remote outpost."

"Yes, ma'am!" Anne choked out. She had meant to compliment Carter, but the astute woman had found a way to redirect the praise to her team. As a great leader would.

They chatted more comfortably after that. Anne kept an eye on Sheppard as he worked the room, going to first Lorne, then Vega and quizzing them about their readiness. She overheard him pressing for details about their gear and mission requirements. When he turned in her direction and Carter excused herself (to Anne's disappointment) to tow McKay out of the room, Anne was ready.

"All set, sir," she greeted Sheppard confidently before he got a word out himself. "I'm sure you'll find everything in order." She gestured to her gear and stepped away into an at-ease stance to indicate he was welcome to inspect her gear. He just quirked an eyebrow.

"You're the cold climate expert, Major. I was going to ask you for the lowdown on what to expect and have you check if I've missed anything."

"Oh." She blushed ten shades of red, but found her answer in her pleasure at being valued. "Of course. I've taken the liberty of stripping, cleaning and lubricating all of our hand weapons with LAW, cold temperature lubricant. We'll keep them warm under the outer suit in any case. If they do get cold, just remember they'll sweat for at least an hour once they're brought back into warm conditions.

"I met with Captain Vega and gave her the course on what to expect with her M16." Vega was their security escort and would be the only one carrying heavy ammunition. "I couldn't find any tactical specs on the Wraith stunners we'll be carrying outside the suits during the hike. But I spoke with Dr. Zelenka and he believes that they will function properly within the temperatures we're expecting. They are solid state energy devices, so function shouldn't be affected if they do experience sweating."

"They'll just get damn slippery," Sheppard muttered and Anne raised her eyebrows in indulgent surprise.

"Yes, sir! At the temperatures we'll be in and out of, it will be a real concern. Most people don't really get the idea of cold weapons condensing water like a glass of cold lemonade, sir."

"Not my first sleigh ride, Major," Sheppard retorted calmly with a slight smile.

With a jolt as abrupt as that glass of lemonade in the face, it was only then that Anne remembered Sheppard had spent almost a year in Antarctica. Flying helicopters. I.e. some of the most complicated equipment to maintain in cold conditions. And he had called her the expert? She went stiff and she was sure her eyes were popping, but Sheppard just nodded, looking thoughtful. "All right. Anything else, Major?"

"No sir," she managed to choke out. "All the rest is standard issue. I packed extra socks." She blurted the last, some insane part of her trying to regain an impression of expertise. Sheppard laughed.

"So did I. Get the heavy stuff on and let's head out. McKay says we've got about five hours between storms and I want to be warm and cozy in that outpost well before then."

"Yes, sir."

Anne quickly strapped on her own shoulder holster, settled the 9mm into its pouch and then tugged on the outer suit that would protect them from the extreme elements of PRJ-004. After she'd fastened her boots into the pant cuffs, she remained leaning over her knees for a moment to press her hands into her face.

Between Lorne and Colonel Sheppard she was off to a great start today. Damn. She wasn't one who put too much effort into social pandering, but she did try to keep her foot out of her mouth.

Anne shoved herself to her feet and worked quickly to finalize her gear. She was eager to get back into the field. Out there, the small talk didn't matter. She could just do her job. She didn't need to be best buddies with her commanders and colleagues to know what to do. She was with Lorne on that one – all the touchy feely crap in the universe wouldn't take out a Goa'uld after it had lined you up in its sights. Wait…wraith. Here she had to worry about wraith.

Drawing on her depth of experience for confidence, she zipped up the main suit but left the final flaps open and her headwear and gloves off. They couldn't afford to reach the ice already soaked in body-chilling sweat. She hoisted her backpack and deftly clipped the support straps across her chest. The wraith stunner she would carry outside the suit attached with a clever magnetic clip to her thigh, and then she was done.

She was the first one to the ready room door.

Yes!

(Screw rule number two…)