By Enola Jones

The three-way fight on the balcony was getting heavy. Michael maneouvred them about until he could land a powerful kick to John's stomach.

Without a word, John went over the side of the balcony.

"JOHN!" Teyla screamed. Then she whirled to face Michael. Before Michael could react, she'd smashed her joined hands into his face and then his stomach, sending him over the railing and watching him dangle helplessly there.

"Teyla," he called. "We can still—"

She stomped on his hand, her face twisted with all the rage she felt toward this man. "You threatened my child," she snarled. "And you have killed my best friend."

"All for you--"

Breathing a curse in Athosian that didn't translate well, she ground her heel against the fingers of his other hand. He screamed – and she heard a 'thump' after he fell out of sight.


She turned, confusion written on her face. That had been John's voice, but---

"Teyla, here!"

She moved to the other side of the railing – and saw him standing in mid-air! "John!" she gasped. "How--?"

He smiled and touched his radio. "Lift her up, Rodney."

John seemed to raise into the air without moving, and then she saw that he was standing on the roof of a slowly-rising Jumper! And Michael lay at his feet, unconscious.

"Rodney?" she gasped.

Rodney waved at her from the pilot's seat and she heard his voice in her ear, "I'm getting pretty good at catching people falling from balconies! Think I should start charging a dollar apiece?"

And she found herself laughing in sheer relief.

The Jumper turned its rear hatch toward her and lowered. John asked, "Let's go take out the garbage, shall we?"

Teyla smiled and climbed onto the railing as John crouched on the Jumper roof. She used his hand to maneouvre herself into the Jumper, then she pulled Michael's body inside as he pushed it toward her. When John joined her inside, Rodney closed the hatch and asked, "Where to?"

"The central spire," John said. "I think it's time we took care of him for good."

Rodney looked over his shoulder at John, who smiled coldly at him. "Rodney," he said. "Think the real Dracula."

And Rodney's lips curled in an equally cold smile as he turned back to the controls.

"The real Dracula?" Teyla asked as the Jumper rose.

"He was a prince in a country on our world named Romania. His name was Vlad Tepes, but his nickname was Dracula – son of the devil. He would take his enemies and--"

"We're here," Rodney said, lowering the rear hatch again. "Hold on."

Teyla and John grabbed handholds, and John looked out. "You're off by .65 degrees, Rodney!"

Rodney compensated, and John called, "Here, that's good!" He looked at Teyla. "Shall we?"

Seeing the spire and John's smile, Teyla understood. She nodded and moved into a good position. John mirrored her movements, and on a three-count, both of them kicked out.

Their feet caught the unconscious Michael under the waist and lifted him up and out of the Jumper – where his body was immediately impaled through the chest by the central spire's large thin antenna.

They watched his body settle onto it, his head and limbs dangling downward, dead eyes searching the sky as if for rescue.

"It's over," Teyla whispered.

"Are we just going to leave him there?" Rodney asked.

"Sounds good to me," John said as he raised the hatch and guided an exhausted Teyla to one of the bench seats.

They sat there, both trembling with adrenaline and exhaustion, while Rodney piloted them the short distance home.

And after they rested, they gathered to watch the birds of New Lantea enjoy the macabre feast they had left for them on top of the central spire.


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