"Now this, this is what I'm talking about." Reclining on his back, John Sheppard laced his hands behind his head, feeling utterly relaxed. Legs crossed at the ankles, he'd propped his bare heels up on a rock, feeling the tickle of a soft breeze through his toes. "Boots off is the way to go on days like these."

"I'm glad you agree John." Smiling, Teyla carefully bit into a slice of bread, smeared with nut butter from a nearby world. Below, her son Torren reached up, making grabby-hands at the shapes above him, cooing quietly.

"You know, I can taffhmfrrgrr."

"Rodney, please, don't speak with your mouth full."

"Forry..." Swallowing, Rodney set down his third pudding cup, after hastily emptying it, holding out his arms. "I can take him for you, while you eat. I mean, if you want. I mean, I don't have to take him, if you don't want me to, but I-"

Smiling, Teyla nipped at her bread, holding it between her teeth, wordlessly handing her son over to the babbling scientist. Hands thus freed, she took the bread from her mouth, and resumed eating.

Flustered for a moment, McKay looked down at the baby in his arms, surprised. "I, uh." He looked at Teyla, then back at the infant. "Um, hi? Hey little guy, remember me?"

Torren let out a displeased wail.

"Ah! Um, oh. I, uh... Help?" McKay looked back at Teyla again, pleadingly.

"Walk around with him Rodney." Attention on her food, Teyla didn't even look up. Lack of concern is a show of faith. I trust Rodney with my son... As long as he is calm. Which he will be, if he believes I trust him... Which I do. Reassuring himself, she smiled a little. "And remain calm, it will help him relax. He feels your tension."

"Right, calm. I'm calm." Standing up carefully, with a helpful tug at the elbow from an appearing-from-nowhere-Ronan, McKay gently jiggled the infant in his arms. "Thanks. Hey there little guy, wanna go for a walk with your uncle Rodney?"

"And me." Ronan peered over McKay's shoulder, blotting out the sun shining on the scientist and infant.

"I can handle a baby on my own, you know. You don't have to worry so much."

"Who's worried? I want to see the kid." Trying his best not to loom, Ronan leaned down, smiling at Torren. "Hi."

"Well, alright then. Come on, we're going for a walk." Cradling the tiny boy against his chest, McKay slowly made his way along the path running between the trees surrounding the glade AR1 had settled in.

Torren had instantly quieted as the pair began moving.

"Are we allowed to do that?" Ronan shot a glance back at Teyla, seeking permission.

McKay sounded insulted. "Of course we are. Who's idea do you think it was?" The pair's voices faded out as they ambled off, bantering back and forth.

"You're pretty brave, you know." Grinning, Sheppard shut his eyes, turning his face towards the warm sun. "Letting those two go off like that with your son." He paused for a moment, before giving the screws another twist. "I wouldn't've done that."

"You, John, should perhaps know better." Ignoring the teasing, Teyla carefully plucked a pudding cup from the depths of the 'picnic' basket, as the Atlanteans had called it. "Rodney and Ronan would fight to the death to protect my son, as they would for any of us." The Athosian woman practically beamed with pride, not only at her teammates' valor, but also at the fact that she knew her son was in the best of hands in the galaxy.

"Yeah, you're right." Sheppard grinned wider. "But who knows what sorts of bad habits they could be teaching him right now?"

Teyla beamed a little less brightly at the mention of that little nagging fact. "... Perhaps I should follow them, just to be sure." Quickly rising, she padded off, bare feet a mere whisper on the soft grass.

Chuckling, Sheppard turned his head away from the sun, opening his eyes. "Well, I've had my fun. What about you Carter?" There was silence. "Carter?" More silence. Concerned, John lifted himself up on one elbow. "Car- oh for-" Reaching over, he snatched the notebook from the Colonel's hands. "Give me that."

Carter let out a dismayed squawk. "Hey! I was-"

"You were wasting your vacation again, is what you were doing." Frowning, Sheppard wagged the notebook at the Colonel. "See, this is exactly what we came here to avoid, for once."

Carter hung her head, feeling guilty. "I know, I know... I just-"

"Got another brilliant idea?" Shaking his head, Sheppard stuffed the book inside his open vest. Even on a vacation, he still wore kevlar offworld, just in case. "Well I'm sure it'll come back to you later."

"But-" Realising that there would be no negotiation with him, Carter sighed in exasperation, resisting the urge to throw her hands into the air. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"... Have a pudding cup." John shut his eyes once more, reclining with a quiet, self-assuredness that only a man who knew he had all the answers could.

Grumping to herself, Carter leaned over to dig in the picnic basket, resigning herself to her fate. I wish something interesting would happen. I don't think I've ever been this bored in my life.

Somewhere, off in the distance, dark clouds gathered.

A storm was coming.

"Now this is exactly what I was looking for." Turning a fine-haired brush over in his hand, Major Lorne gently ran his thumb across the bristles. "I can't believe you found one this nice so fast."

"What can I say? I've got a gift." Shrugging his shoulders, Lieutenant Lensman stared at the skewer he was holding. "What kind of berries did they say these were?"

"Fortuna nut-berries." Lorne held a similar, half-eaten skewer in his other hand. "That's why they can roast them." He was more interested in the brush by this point.

"And they're safe to e-"

"Doctor Beckett cleared them as safe the first time we came to this world." Holding the skewer in his teeth, Lorne carefully slid the brush into a pocket of his vest.

"Ah. Well, I'm sure if I get sick, I'll have plenty of advance warning." Nipping at the odd treat, he made a face. "Really bitter, aren't they?"

"They're an acquired taste, really." Lorne seemed to have no problem with them at all. "We tend to trade with these people often, so you'll get used to them soon enough."

"... I dunno about that." Making a bit of a face, Lensman was reluctant to finish chewing the single bite he'd taken.

Looking around, Lorne nudged the Lieutenant with his elbow, murmuring under his breath. "They're supposed to bring good luck, and it's kind of an insult to the locals if you don't eat the whole thing."

"Great..." Sighing, Lensman slowly finished chewing, swallowed, then sighed again. "Just great." Sliding an entire nut-berry off of the skewer with his teeth, he started chewing slowly again. It was like a cross between a cranberry and a filbert, without any sweet undertones at all. "... It's like black coffee."

"The first one always tastes pretty bad." Lorne seemed to have no problems chewing his way through the entire skewer of roasted nut-berries. He was more at ease now, since the villagers around them had stopped staring, too. "So does the second, third, and fourth. It starts to get better though, around the dozenth or so."

Swallowing, Lensman turned a bland stare on Major Lorne. "Now I know why you invited me to come along."

"Oh?"

"Revenge."

Trying not to smile, Lorne looked away. "Minor Lorne was pretty bad." He pointed to a stall. "Let's go get some Faica-meat. It's triple-cooked and smothered in spices. Fifteen of them local, the last eight come from six different worlds, mainly desert locales."

"Remind me to never cross you again. Ever."

"Do I make myself clear? Never cross me again." Wiping a bead of sweat from his nose, Durcan snapped his fingers, motioning for his aide to hand back his uniform jacket. "I am risking everything on this venture, and I will not tolerate anything less than perfection."

The man, who did not matter in the Genii's grand scheme, nodded, scrambling to his feet. The intensity of Durcan's voice had toppled him over, rather than any physical blow. For that reason alone, it made the experience that much more frightening. Any man could strike another, Durcan made you feel like an infinite hell awaited, should he deem it necessary.

Shrugging into his jacket, Durcan tugged at his collar, hissing quietly as a corner of his lapel brushed against the barely-healed punctures on his palm. "It's too warm in here. Stand up an open the shutters." Ignoring the man he'd driven to the floor with words alone, he turned back to the high table beside him. The man was already forgotten; He'd made his stance on useless failures clear now, no other men under his command would forget it. "Here." He tapped a finger on the childishly scrawled image of a village.

"That is Immetti-costa, known for its potent spices." His aide, as usual, was perfection itself. As he should be, since Durcan had personally seen to his retraining. "A small village, less than a hundred people."

Off to the side, the shutters clanged open one by one, letting a crisp breeze blow through the small home.

"That is where we shall begin the operation proper." Durcan stared at the other sheafs of paper before him. Pictures of men and women, in similar, loose garb. Weapons can easily be hidden in those robes, good. "Wipe them out, but do no damage to the village." Tapping a scroll of paper, he frowned. "Leave some alive to question- no. Come as if in peace, question them, then wipe them out."

The aide straightened the seams on Durcan's jacket. "And what shall they be questioned on?"

"Any soon-coming local festivals or religious rites we can use." Staring intently at the scroll, he ran a fingertip down the time-line for his invasion plans. Grabbing a second scroll, Durcan unfurled it, placing the time-line for supply-gathering alongside it. "Match the dates as precisely as you can, Arric. I want this to work."

The aide, Arric, bowed his head. "Of course. I have no doubt that we will be able to co-ordinate to within a tenday at most."

"Well within the margin of error then." Durcan allowed himself to smile, for once. "Go now, see that it is done."

Realising belatedly that Durcan was talking to him, the man who'd been driven to the floor with sheer fury alone, who'd opened the shutters, who was the only other man in the building, scrambled out to convey the orders. He'd seen the horrifyingly cold smile on Durcan's lips. All he wanted was to get away from the look on that man's face.

"Everything is going perfectly, as I have planned for." The cold smile went away as if it had been switched off. As if Durcan's lips could not bear to remain twisted like that for any longer than necessary. "It is perfect. This move is my checkmate."

"Checkmate!" Zelenka moved the bishop into place with a triumphant grin. "I believe you owe me a dozen pine-scented candles." Ignoring the depressed sigh of his opponent, Zelenka began gathering up the chess pieces. The only reason he was so happy about this minor victory was the prize, of course. The candles reminded him of his childhood, when his brother would always leave so many candles lit around the house. "Today is a day where nothing can go wrong."

"Unscheduled offworld activation!" A tech stared at the laptop before him as a string of numbers poured across the screen. "Receiving Colonel Sheppard's IDC!"

AR1 poured through the gate swiftly, dripping wet, arms loaded with picnic supplies.

"Today is a day where nothing can go wrong." Clutching the picnic basket in one arm, Sheppard mopped at his face with the other hand.

"I'm sorry, ok? The report said nothing about freak thunderstorms!" Equally wet, and arms filled with infant, McKay shook his head, trying to rid his eyes of the water that dripped down from his hair, over his face, and onto the baby.

"Please calm down, you two." Teyla was carrying several pairs of boots; The storm had struck so quickly that nobody had time reshoe themselves. "It is no one's fault."

"Could be worse." Ronan peeked over the FRED they'd taken with them. He'd simply shoved it through the gate, since the three Atlanteans who could operate it had had their hands full.

"How could it be worse?" Sheppard looked irritated, mainly because the last fifty feet of their hurried dash had been over worn gravel. No cuts, but it hadn't felt very nice either.

"Could've been an attack." Ronan stepped away from the FRED as an Atlantean tech took the control box and steered it back to the recharge station.

McKay shot the former Runner a look. "Don't even joke about that, I'm holding a baby. I'm not in a position to properly panic."

"Unscheduled offworld activation!"

"Gyaaah!" McKay spun around, staring at the swiftly-forming event horizon... Securely behind the Stargate's shield.

"Receiving Major Lorne's IDC!" The shield dropped as Lorne's team shuffled through the gate.

"Major Lorne." Shifting the picnic basket to his other arm, Sheppard casually saluted the Major. "Did it rain on you too?"

"Colonel." Returning the salute, Lorne stared for a moment as Teyla took a wailing Torren from Dr. McKay's arms, shooting him a dirty look. "No, Lieutenant Lensman needed-"

"One side! One side! I've only got a couple of minutes!" Lensman squeezed his way through the small throng of people, running out of the gate room. "Hold the lift!"

Watching the Lieutenant run off, Sheppard turned to look at Lorne again. "Major, what did you do to the Lieutenant?"

"He'll make it to the bathroom in plenty of time, if he ran, he said." Smiling, Lorne began unclipping his P90 and vest, moving off towards the gear lockers.

Shaking his head, Sheppard pulled a mostly-dry notebook from his vest. "Carter, I believe this belo- Carter?" Looking around, he blinked. "Where'd she go?"

The door swished open. "I'm home."

"Mrowl."

"I know I'm early. It rained." Trudging into her room, Carter kicked off her half-laced boots, tossing her wet jacket onto the floor.

"Mroooww."

"I'm fine, I just don't take breaks well in the Pegasus galaxy." Sighing, she puttered around her quarters for a few minutes, getting changed into something dry and casual. Plunking down on her chair in front of her terminal, she stared at the darkened screen.

"Mrow?" Hopping up onto his owner's lap, the cat nudged his cheek against her a few times.

"I'm fine Jake, just a little tired." Tapping the power key on the terminal, Carter sighed again. "Well, let's see how you're doing." Tapping a few more keys, she booted up a diagnostic program.

"Mrow." Hopping up onto the desk, Jake sat beside the screen, tail twitching from side to side.

"Plug in, would you?" Tapping a few more keys, Carter slid the blackened remains of a steel cube to the other side of her desk.

Flicking back and forth a few more times, the tip of the cat's tail slipped itself into a small hole on one side of the terminal. Data washed over the display for several seconds, before a childishly-scrawled image of an orange and white-striped tabby appeared. The words 'Kitty is hungry' accompanied several wavy lines around the belly of the doodled cat.

"Jake." Carter frowned the instant she'd returned her attention to the terminal screen. "You messed with the diagnostic program again while I was gone, didn't you?"

"Mrow?"

"Don't give me that innocent look." Shaking her head, Carter hit a few keys. "Nanite charge level is at forty percent. You didn't go into sleep mode while I was gone, so I know it was you."

"Rowl."

"Great, I can't even get my cat to behave." Sighing yet again, Carter slumped back in her chair. Her eyes drifted up to the picture of her father, Jacob Carter, sitting on a small shelf above her terminal. He was smiling down at her. "Hey, dad, rough day again today."

Glancing at the picture for a moment, the cat settled down onto his belly, paws tucked neatly beneath his body. One eartip flicked a few times, as the cat shut his eyes. Data and code lines streamed across its reduced field of vision, sonar input still providing an image of the room and its contents.

Recharge in progress, downloading mission reports.

The eartip flicked again.

Downloading astrological data; Minor solar flare activity within twenty hours. Negligible effect on operating efficiency.

Again, the eartip flicked.

Tapping into base communications. Tracking Dr. McKay, Rodney.

"Mrrr."

Dr. McKay, Rodney is currently transmitting to Dr. Keller, Jennifer from his quarters.

"Mrrr." The other eartip flicked.

Interrupting active communication channel. Rerouting transmission to Dr. Beckett, Carson.

Purring softly, Jake shifted his position, crossing his paws and resting his chin upon them.

Clearing system cache of fourteen seconds of operation data. Routing copy of operation data to hidden memory cluster 'Catnip-Alpha'. Creating false data mask to fill in memory gap.

Sighing, Jake opened one eye to scan Carter's face. She'd fallen asleep, still leaning back in her chair. "Mrrr."

Tapping into ZPM recreation data. Downloading latest results. Compiling all accessible data. Compiling. Compiling. Finished compiling. No known method of reproduction readily available.

"Mrrr."

Running program 'Carter-Creation' in hidden memory cluster 'Catnip-Beta'. Importing ZPM data. Estimated time for effective results; Seven thousand hours.

"Mrrr."Irritated, Jake closed his eye again. He sat there for several minutes, processing the last two lines of text. Letting out a sigh, he resigned himself to an unpleasant task.

Running program 'McKay-Creation' in hidden memory cluster 'Litterbox-Alpha'. Slaving memory cluster to run in parallel with 'Carter-Creation' program. Estimated time for effective results; Five thousand hours.

It wasn't a massive leap in production time, but it was something. Two hundred days instead of two hundred ninety was still forever and a half. Turning to rest one cheek on his crossed paws, Jake longed for two things: A crumpled-up paper ball dangling from a string, and a third program to run in parallel with the first two. It would be very hard to hack into Zelenka's records, unlike McKay's. After all, McKay was a known factor, and mildly predictable.

Running password-breaker program 'Ronan-Runner' in ERROR.

Jake would have blinked, if his eyes were open.

No remaining hidden memory clusters remaining.

His tail would have lashed, had it not been securely plugged into the diagnostic/recharge port.

Suspend currently running processes related to ZPM data. Allocate memory to creation of new hidden memory cluster, labeled 'Mouse-Alpha'. Estimated time for reconfiguration of internal structure; Five hours.

Sighing, Jake assumed a sleeping posture.

Initiate reconfiguration. Resume ZPM related activities upon construction of new memory cluster. Begin running program 'Ronan-Runner' in cluster 'Mouse-Alpha' upon commencement of ZPM related activities. Wake owner one hour after program 'Ronan-Runner' activates.

Activate sleep-mode for higher consciousness related programs. Time; Six hours.

Chapter end!

Well, this chapter took forever to get around to, but ironically only took two days to write. I blame it on my allergies, it's really hard to think clearly with them sometimes. Also, this year seemed really bad for them.

Anyway, chapter two is finished. As you can clearly see. Ok, that wasn't the most clever thing I've ever said. Uh, what to say?

Unlike the last chapter, I think this one goes a bit less in setting up the plot. On the other hand; AR1 on vacation, awesome, right? Also, Repli-cat shows some signs of character, and if you haven't already guessed, is named after Carter's father, Jacob Carter, who'd died back in season eight or so of SG1.

Clearly, he likes screwing with McKay. I wonder why?

As an amusing tidbit, I'll mention that Jake's drawing program is called 'Torren-Doodle'. Clearly, he plans on entertaining the baby, but I doubt that Teyla will let him babysit if his secret gets out.

And now, for the traditional Review Replies!

tinkerswraith - As you can see, aside from it not being a one-shot, my plans seem to have given you all that you asked for. You have no idea how pleasantly surprised I was to see your review. I'm glad you liked the first chapter, and I hope you liked the second one just as much.

Well, that's all for this time. Next chapter should hopefully be coming faster than this one. Questions and comments are always welcome, as always.

Until next time.