He wrapped his arms around her small frame and bent her back slightly, deepening the kiss to thoroughly explore her.

"Oh, my!"

"For crying out loud!"

The two voices speaking at once poured cold water on the heat between them. Drina pulled back, flushed a pretty shade of pink, and smiled at him. He grinned at her, and then looked at the door where Areina and Rodney stood.

Areina looked amused. Rodney did not.

John shot Rodney a look that snapped his mouth closed.

"I'm sorry if we interrupted." Areina said, raising an eyebrow toward her cousin.

"I thought you had returned to the village already." Drina said, placing her hands behind her back. When she licked her lips, nervously, John had to look away.

"We were about to, but Not-That-Kind-Of-Doctor McKay left something behind, so we went up to get it. Then he had to 'take some readings' of something or another." She smiled broadly. "We can go…"

Drina turned pink again and narrowed her eyes at Areina. "Please do."

John suddenly started coughing and both women turned to look at him curiously.

"Are you okay?" Areina asked.

"Ah, yeah. Rodney, we should be on our way to the armory. Imogrim and the rest of your men took the prisoners to a camp outside the village." He smiled down at Drina, still with a bit of disbelief in his eyes. "We should go."

Drina smiled and nodded. "Yes, but you have to remember to rest."

"I will."

Areina and Rodney started to walk away and John paused. "Will I see you again?"

Drina smiled. "I hope so. You were going to impress me, remember?"

John suddenly remembered her comment about being impressed by 'a handsome man with a skillful tongue' and realized that she had meant the double entendre. He smiled broadly and nodded as he walked away, contacting Imogrim as he'd promised.

The group was waiting for him at the entrance of the cells. He ignored Rodney's look and started walking toward the village with Areina next to him.

Areina was the first to speak. "I owe your people an apology, Colonel Sheppard."

John nodded. "Don't mention it."

"I hope we can be allies, even after my ill-treatment of you."

"Well, I have one question about what you did to Ronon while he was being interrogated by you. I don't think my people will be too happy about dealing with someone who uses torture." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Or was it torture?"

Areina nodded. "I'm sure Ronon will tell you that it was torture, but I did not physically harm him. The wounds to his arms are from struggling with the ropes. And I am willing to meet any demands of restitution he might make."

John's eyebrows rose. "I can't have him hurting you, either. It wouldn't bode well for our alliance."

She tilted her head and frowned. "Do you really think he would hurt me?"

"No." John thought about it. "Could he? Yes. Would he? I don't think so."

"Let me talk to him. I will apologize and offer myself for any punishment he deems necessary."

John started to shake his head, but she grasped his arm. "Please. I feel terrible for my treatment of him and our customs demand that I make the offer. To him."

"Okay, but I hope he's in a better mood than the last time I talked to him."

Areina smiled, tightly. "So do I."

x

Ronon Dex paced around the queen's chambers. He mostly just wanted to return to Atlantis, but Sheppard had told him to return here. Apparently, Areina wanted to apologize. Ronon growled, lowly, at the thought. He wasn't sure how he would handle that.

Areina entered the tent and secured the flap. She removed her cloak, armor and chain-mail-like over-dress so that she was dressed as she had been during his 'interrogation'.

Silently, his green eyes followed her movements like a cat watching a mouse.

Without looking at him, she moved to the table where food and drink were again arranged. As she poured liquid into a cup, she finally spoke.

"Will you have a seat, my lord?"

He frowned, suspiciously, at her formalities. "I'll stand."

She nodded. She moved to him and bowed on one knee, offering him the cup.

Ronon growled. "What are you doing?"

"My lord, tradition demands that I serve you and submit to whatever punishment you wish to take as retribution for the reprehensible way I have treated you. I am your servant."

Ronon backhanded the drink out of her hands. It impacted the tent wall and fell to the ground with a clatter. Then he reached down and pulled her to her feet. He was furious. He may not have enjoyed her interrogation techniques but the harm that was really done was to his pride, and even that wasn't irreparable. He admired her for the way she seemed to command her people without being a despot. She was willing to fight side-by-side with them. To see her subjugate herself to him angered him more than her sexual teasing.

"Do you really think I would want this? You disgrace yourself by bowing to me." He ground the words out between clenched teeth. "To offer yourself to me out of a sense of obligation would make you no better than a whore."

He pushed her, forcing her to take a step back, spun on his heel and started for the exit.

Areina looked and felt as if she'd been slapped. She suddenly became furious and reached for the knife on the table. She sent it flying and it embedded its point into the tent post next to his ear as he approached the door.

Ronon felt the wind of the knife and turned to look at it. He smiled and pulled it out of the post. He turned to face her.

"You missed."

She narrowed her eyes. "Only because killing you would not make for good trade relations," she spat. "Go, Ronon Dex. Go find your team and leave here."

Ronon hefted the knife in his hand and, instead of walking away, he moved slowly toward her, his head down, but his eyes boring into her.

Areina stood her ground, though she began to question the wisdom of her actions. She began to feel as if he was some great predatory animal and she was a foolish woodland creature who had challenged him. Determined not to let him see her trepidation, she clenched her fists.

He finally reached her and stood toe to toe with her. She was almost a foot smaller than he and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. He reached for her and she stepped back.

"Too late!" she seethed.

He flicked the knife at the table. It embedded itself in the tabletop. Then, he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her to him. "This is what I wanted to see."

"What?" she narrowed her eyes and tried to pull away. "You wanted a fight?"

"No," his eyes raked over her, leaving an impression as much as if it had been done with touch. "I want to know that you came to me with your head held high. I want you as a queen, a leader, hell, even as my jailor, but it offends my honor to accept you as a servant."

He released her. "My need to teach you not to tease a man half out of his mind has passed."

She stepped back one step and a frowned. "And so?"

"And so," he grinned, lecherously. "If you want me in your bed, you'll have to invite me."

She gasped at his words and felt her face warm under his intense gaze. She was suddenly at a loss. She quickly averted her eyes and glanced around, not knowing where to go from her.

Ronon, once again, closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands. He tilted her face up and looked into her eyes. They were wet, as if she was about to cry, but he knew she would never permit that.

"Ronon," she whispered, fervently.

The kiss was much gentler than the last one he'd initiated, but no less thorough. He reached to her waist and pulled her hard against him.

Suddenly her hands were exploring him. Without breaking the kiss, she moved her hands down his arms and between them. They moved inside his jacket to his waist and slipped under his shirt and vest, to touch his bare skin. He growled and broke the kiss to pull off his clothes. Feverishly, she followed suit, pausing from time to time to touch and kiss each other. When, finally, they were both down to only skin, he picked her up and carried her to the bed that lay barely hidden by a curtain on the other side of the tent. He lay her on it and pulled back to admire her.

His admiration didn't last for long because she reached up and grabbed hold of him in such a way as to distract any man. When he'd decided he'd had enough of her touching – and tasting – he pushed her back on the bed and sank into it next to her.

Ronon's mouth captured hers as his hands began to roam. His fingers skillfully found every sensitive spot of her body and finally found the point that could drive her to madness. He skillfully manipulated her body to bring her over the precipice, as many times as he could before he felt that he couldn't stand it anymore.

When they finally joined together, she cried out his name in a feverish moan of ecstasy and began to shake again. It had been so long for him that it was impossible for him to last very long, especially when she wrapped her legs around him and muffled her cries of release into a pillow.

He collapsed on top of her and felt her holding him, her hands on his back, her kisses on his neck. After a moment, he rolled to her side and smiled.

"Let that be a lesson to you," he rumbled.

"Yes, sir," she grinned. Then a wickedness came to her grin. "Are there more parts to the lesson? Or is this the extent of what you have to teach me?"

Ronon groaned, good-naturedly. "By the gods, woman! Are you trying to kill me?"

She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him, amused. "Can you think of a better way to die?"

He growled and pulled her into a kiss that was sure to get the next lesson started.

That was, of course, the precise moment when someone called from the door of the tent. She groaned and pulled away from him.

"What is it?!"

"Colonel Sheppard wishes to see you, my lady."

Areina looked at Ronon and grinned, wickedly, as she climbed over him and sought out her clothes. "I think he'd rather see my cousin Drina."

Ronon grinned. "A woman at every gate, it seems."

She glanced over at him. "And you, Ronon? Have you many others?"

Ronon stood and she admired his strength and maleness. "No. Too dangerous."

She tilted her head. "But you are no longer a runner. Surely, there must be others now…"

He approached her and put his arms around her. "I'd like to think that if I had had more practice, I would have lasted longer."

She smiled. "I have no complaints."

He leaned down and kissed her gently.

When they separated, she grinned wickedly again. "Feel free to return anytime you feel you need to practice."

"My lady?" Imogrim called.

"Oh, by the gods!" she called out. "Give me a moment!" she was exasperated and becoming frustrated that she couldn't just enjoy Ronon again as she wanted to. "Tell Colonel Sheppard that if he tires of waiting for me, he can seek out my cousin for entertainment."

There was a pause, then Imogrim's voice, changed slightly with what seemed like amusement, responded. "I have relayed the message, my lady. He remains."

"Probably wants to make sure I didn't hurt you," Ronon remarked as he replaced yet another knife.

"Maybe he's more worried about what I might have done to you."

He chuckled and shrugged on his jacket.

x

John Sheppard's face was on fire after Areina's comment about her cousin. He glanced over at Elizabeth Weir, who had come to work out trade negotiations.

Elizabeth's lips were pressed together in an effort to suppress a smile and her eyebrows were up.

John smiled, half-heartedly. "She's kidding."

Elizabeth's grin became more apparent. "I'm sure."

The tent flap moved and a male hand appeared. It, then, disappeared and the flap fluttered back into place.

x

On the other side of the flap, Areina had grabbed Ronon again and was kissing him.

"If you don't stop," he growled, upon breaking the kiss. "Sheppard will be waiting a very long time."

"A very long time?" she asked innocently.

"Very," he grinned, wickedly.

Her look also turned wicked. "Well, in that case –" She grabbed his jacket.

He chuckled and pulled back. "Behave, woman."

x

The flap opened and Ronon Dex stepped out to see Sheppard and Weir standing there.

John saw his grin and asked. "So you have resolved your issues?"

Ronon nodded. "Yes."

"And she's still alive and relatively unharmed?"

Ronon's grin was licentious. "Relatively."

Elizabeth frowned from Ronon to John. "What is going on?"

Again, John looked uncomfortable. "Ah, Ronon and Areina had some issues to sort through."

"Issues?"

Ronon opened his mouth to speak when Areina walked out and bid John welcome. John had never felt more grateful for an interruption in his life. He just knew Ronon was going to tell Elizabeth something she just didn't really need to know.

"Areina, this is Elizabeth Weir, our leader."

FIN