Disclaimer: Don't own SGA, etc.

Her senses slowly return and she realizes that her entire body aches. She tries to move and finds that she cannot. Her hands are bound, warm skin against skin, wrist against wrist. There is a slight jerk and she feels the back of her partner's head rest against her shoulder for a moment. "John?"

"Yeah. You okay?"


"Do you have any idea what happened?" From the tone of his voice, she can tell that he doesn't know.

Neither does she. "No. The last thing that I remember was walking towards the exit of the hanger bay."

It appears that they never made it out.

"I feel like I stuck my finger into an electrical socket."

"A Taser," she offers.

"Must of come from behind."

"Should've been more careful." The man approaches and Teyla cranes her neck to look at him. He's large. Tall, lean, well muscled. Tank top and cargo pants. Dreads.

"Look, Buddy." She can feel John shift to get a better look at their captor. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but whatever it is, it's a misunderstanding."

"Don't think so," the man grunts.

"The name's Sgt. Sheppard," John says. "Sergeant, as in SFPD."

"I know." The man drops their badges on the ground in front of them and then kicks them out of their reach.

"You really want to be holding two cops hostage when backup gets here?"

"The back-up that's not coming," the man says flatly. "A detective and a plain clothes cop walking around an abandoned hanger bay. Doesn't sound like anyone knows where you are."

It is true. They had been conducting their own unofficial investigation, one that Chief Weir had told Sheppard to drop.

The man crouches and pulls out a gun as they hear vehicles in the distance.

John tries again. "You don't know what you're dealing with, let us handle it."

The man chuckles. A deep, throaty sound. He pulls a black, leather wallet out of his pocket and flips it open. "Special Agent Ronon Dex. DEA. You're the ones in over your heads." He stands again as the sound of engines cut off. "Stay put."

Dex returns what seems like hours later. He crouches down, pulls a knife from his boot, and cuts the zip ties from their wrists. "Now get the hell out."

John rubs his wrists. "Pleasure meeting you too."

It's not the Chief that calls her in, but Captain Carter, head of Narcotics. John is there, standing in the corner, arms folded across his chest.

"Teyla," Carter says. "Have a seat."

She looks at John and he nods. Teyla takes a seat. "You two made quite an impression on Agent Dex. He wants to partner with the San Francisco PD to run an undercover operation."

"Do they not have their own agents?" Teyla asks.

"They do," Carter says. "But they've been at this for a while, Dex thinks a new set of eyes might help."

Teyla glances over to John. "But we are not with the Narcotics Division."

"No," Carter says. "You're not. But Agent Dex requested the best that we have and, well, Sgt. Sheppard has convinced me that his team is the best."

There's a knock on the door and Ford steps in. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Carter turns a file towards them as the door shuts. "So. What do you know about the Wraith?"