By Enola Jones

John woke with a start, going from sound asleep to full alert in less than five seconds flat.

It had been a beautiful night on PCR-872, and the newly-formed AR-1 had decided to sleep under the stars instead of in tents. The night was warm, the breeze was cool and carried the scent of flowers.

But a noise had woken John. He climbed to his feet, hand on his gun, and listened.

There -- there it was again. A kind of snuffling grunt. What kind of creature could be approaching?

John's mind supplied all kinds of shapes and all kinds of creatures. Friendly, not friendly... Be ready for anything!

He walked around Teyla, who opened her eyes and raised a delicate eyebrow at him. He pointed at his ear and she nodded, slowly climbing to her feet. Her eyes widened as the sound sounded again, and she met his eyes.

John shrugged and they headed toward the source of it.

Ford slept on. The poor kid was worn completely out. John and Teyla tiptoed around him, deciding to let him rest until and unless he was needed.

They drew closer and closer to the sounds which kept coming at irregular intervals. Until at last, John and Teyla froze and looked incredulously at each other. Then both clamped hands over their mouths to keep their laughter inside and not disturb their two sleepers.

Their noisy creature had turned out to be nothing more than Doctor Rodney McKay's soft snoring!


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