Disclaimer: I don't own SGA or any characters recognizable from the show, nor am I making any money from this. I am, however, seeking a job so if you want to pay me to write SGA episodes, let me know! ;)
A/N: This story is complete in 11 parts. They are all finished, and one part will be posted every day or three until they are all up. This story contains Shep whump, so if that is not your cup of tea, you have been warned. Otherwise, enjoy. :)
Chapter 1 / 11
It was a great day for exploring. John had declared as much to McKay at breakfast, and to Elizabeth at their morning briefing. Rodney, as per usual, was less than enthusiastic since there weren't any ZPMs or the glaring potential for Nobel Prizes involved. Elizabeth had mountains of paperwork, also as per usual, and had agreed with him simply to be agreeable, or at least that was the opinion John took away from the briefing. With no missions scheduled for the next couple of days, they all found themselves with some down time, and Elizabeth just wanted John out of her hair so she could attend to the paperwork. And, at the time, he had been happy to oblige.
Now, at 1736 hours, he was seriously considering calling off his exploration for the evening. He was tired of walking. Even though he'd planned his route carefully so that he would end up near his starting point after traveling in a wide arc through some of the farther-reaching uninvestigated areas, he was still probably half a mile from the area of the city inhabited by the expedition members. John's stomach growled, indicating its agreement that enough was enough.
Somewhat irritably, Sheppard glanced at his LSD and followed the path it laid out, which had him turning to the right down a narrow corridor. He had to hand it to the Ancients. They sure knew how to make a whole lot of nothing take up a whole lot of space. The corridor was dim, and Sheppard switched on the light on his P-90, shining it straight ahead. He had lost all interest in this section of the city over an hour ago and his only concern at present was getting back to civilization (as it were) without tripping over any Ancient junk. His light glinted off something shiny on a panel to his left, and John idly brushed his fingertips across it. It glowed faintly in response and he heard a quiet whirring noise. Then he was suddenly blinded as a reddish-orange light assaulted him from both sides. John dropped to a crouch on the floor, reflexively raising his P-90.
When he found that he wasn't incinerated, shot, or otherwise instantly deceased, John got to his feet a bit sheepishly. The bright light wasn't a result of a blazing inferno—well, all right, if you wanted to be technical it was—but it wasn't of the type that was going to turn him into a crispy critter. He stared out the windows that now lined either side of the corridor, and blinked a few times. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light of a colorful sunset, he noticed a pier stretched out before him, but he was unable to see the water from where he stood. Curiosity piqued, John looked carefully along the wall of his present walkway, and touched another panel, not dissimilar to the one that had caused the windows to be revealed. This one, however, triggered doors that granted him access to the pier.
Sheppard relaxed his stance somewhat as he took in the objects of interest that were obscuring his view of the water. Several hedge-like plants, which reached his chest in height, spread the width of the pier, save for a walkway in the center. Beyond those, row upon row of raised gardening beds contained what appeared to be vegetable- and fruit-producing plants. The plants weren't overrunning their given areas, but they weren't exactly an example of the neatest sowing job he'd ever seen either.
Fruit resembling tomatoes hung from the first group of plants. John wondered why he'd never heard about this garden area before now. Obviously it wasn't left over from the days when the city had been inhabited by the Ancients. There were a few botanists among the science team, however, and knowing how protective Rodney was when it came to his discoveries, he really wasn't surprised that they didn't want this place advertised openly. Still, he made a note to ask Elizabeth about it when he got back. In the meantime, he figured a nice leisurely stroll through the newfound garden was in order both as a reward for his otherwise uneventful day, and for the sake of the exploration itself. John even considered munching on one of the tomato-things and then thought better of it, not yet knowing the exact reasoning behind this Pegasus-style Eden.
Leaving the tomatoes behind, he stepped into the shade of the next section. Dark green leafy plants stretched high overhead, their main chutes bearing a striking resemblance to cornstalks. Higher up, more chutes branched off and joined the plants from both sides of the walkway together about four feet above his head, forming a canopy that appeared to stretch on ahead for at least thirty meters or so. The species of plant was unfamiliar to him, and it didn't seem to be a bearer of any edible fruits or vegetables. Unless the plant itself was edible, which didn't seem very likely due to its mottled, fuzzy-looking surface; it was another thing to question certain scientists about later.
John walked on and found himself blinking more and more rapidly as he passed the halfway point of the crop's growing area. There was a humid haze in the air, thickest just beneath the canopy of leaves and tapering to invisibility just above his knees. Oddly, it was making his eyes feel gritty and dry and his eyelids wanted to stick together. Slowing his pace, he rubbed at his eyes, which only served to cloud his vision. It figured that he wouldn't find a single plant he was allergic to until one of McKay's colleagues started gardening. He was going to give Rodney the third degree if—"What the hell?!"
Sheppard fell to the ground, his thoughts scattered, courtesy of the hard shove he'd just received from behind. Pushing himself up on his hands, he turned his head trying to see the person responsible. John only caught a glimpse of a blurry figure before a blow to his jaw snapped his head backward forcefully. He tasted blood as he staggered upright, and raised his head to give his assailant a piece of his mind—not to mention a black eye or two—but was beat to the punch. Literally. A fist buried itself in his stomach and he doubled over, gasping for air that had been knocked out of him. He'd been gut-punched before, and it never felt good, but this time it felt as though he'd been hit with a brick or something equally more solid than flesh and bone knuckles.
Before Sheppard was able to recover or ponder the topic further, the attacker had grabbed his 9mm from its holster and brought it down hard across his face, unclipping the P-90 from his vest and throwing it aside in the process. John saw stars, but shot out his hand instinctively, catching the man's wrist. He used his other hand to try to pry the man's fingers away from his gun.
"You'd best forget what you've seen here!" an unfamiliar voice growled in Sheppard's ear.
"That wouldn't be all that much now, would it?" John grunted, and suddenly had his gun back in his hand, only to involuntarily drop it when the fire of a knife blade penetrated his bicep. Probably his own knife with how this fight seemed to be going. He bit back a cry of pain even as a dark hood was pulled over his head, effectively obscuring his view of everything. "Oh, very funny!" Dropping to the ground, which really wasn't that much of a conscious effort, Sheppard lashed out with his leg hoping to knock the stranger's feet from beneath him, but didn't make contact. Whoever he was fighting was too damn fast, and landed a kick to his gut, curling him into a ball. "What do you want?" John moaned, clutching his stomach. He could tell his vision was beginning to gray at the edges, even with the hood in place.
"Leave!" The man snarled, lashing out again with his boot. John felt pain erupt in his lower back, then there was darkness.
TBC…
