This is my first fan fic ever! Please review! I don't own SGA :(

I hated idiots who came into my city and thought they could get away with murder. He hadn't even tried to run when I found him standing above the murdered woman holding a gun, and now he had the audacity to insist he was innocent; idiot.

"I know what this looks like, I would probably come to the same conclusion, but I'm not the killer." He held out the gun slowly, and let it drop to the floor of the warehouse.

"Sheppard!"

I spun around towards the new voice and found myself staring at a red-faced, panting man, who yelped and jumped back.

"Don't point that thing at me! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to point a loaded fire arm at somebody's face? What if it went off!" He stopped for breath, huffing like he'd just run a marathon.

I didn't lower my gun, but I did step back, trying to keep an eye on my suspect and the newcomer.

"Sheppard! Where have you been! Two weeks. We've spent scanning," the guy called Sheppard shot him a warning glance. The ranter spluttered for a minute and then kept talking. "looking for you, and then your suddenly back, with some girl holding a gun in your face!"

"Hey! This girl is Detective Joyce Andrews!" I snapped. I waved my gun at the taller of the two, my suspect. "His name's Sheppard?"

Mr. Talkative bristled. "That's Colonel John Sheppard to you!"

Great! Some stupid military guy decides to shoot some poor woman, and no his friend is trying to pull rank on me! "Well, Colonel Sheppard, you're under arrest for murder."

"W-What! You can't do that!" Talkative guy was spluttering again. "You don't seriously think he killed her!" he waved a hand vaguely at the dead woman. "He's a hero!"

"We'll see. I'll run ballistics on the bullet, but right now, your hero is my only suspect."

The suspect in question still hadn't said anything except for insisting he was innocent. He was standing like a stone, staring at the gun on the floor, and I had to admit he didn't look like a cold blooded killer.

A suspect was a suspect, no matter what my personal observations might be; I reached for my handcuffs.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"

I winced at the volume.

"You are not cuffing him! You can't!" Mr. Talkative waved his hands around to emphasize his point.

"Rodney, let the lady do her job." Sheppard's voice was low, and I didn't really expect Rodney to pay any attention and he didn't.

"Look, Detective, take him in if you want, but you can't cuff him!" he actually sounded desperate.

"Rodney!" Sheppard sounded more commanding. "I'll be fine."

I was actually reluctant to take him in now, it all seemed wrong, but it was my job.

His hands were shaking, I noticed, and he flinched when the cold metal touched him.

"Rodney, let General O'Neill what happened. There's a Genii Operative here, that's where I've been."

Rodney spluttered something unintelligible as I pushed Sheppard past him, towards my car. He stumbled once and I could feel him shaking. I looked at him closely for the first time and saw a few fading bruises on his pale face. His hazel eyes practically stared through me like I wasn't there.

I heard Rodney talking very fast to someone over the phone and was relieved he was out of my face, at least for now. There was probably going to be trouble over this day's work, one way or another.

Sheppard slumped back in the seat biting his lip in pain. "Are you okay?"

He blinked up at me, looking very dazed, I was starting to get worried. Something was obviously very wrong. "I'm good." He smiled.

Military! I shrugged and closed the door, looking around for Rodney. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Damn it!" I cursed softly and reached for my radio. Time to hand to crime scene over to the processing units.

"Dispatch, this is Detective Andrews, 246 Maple Dr., one victim, dead on arrival, suspect in custody."

"Understood Andrews, units are on their way."

I sighed and started the engine, glancing at Sheppard in the rear view. If he had looked pale before, he looked like a ghost now; he was leaning back, breathing heavily, eyes closed.

Great, just great, now I have a hyperventilating suspect. I exited on the freeway and turned up the scanner, letting the normalcy wash over me.

I was two blocks from the police station when a black sedan skidded around a corner and blocked the street. I hit the brakes and cursed.