City Comfort

A/N: Just so you know I'm still alive.

Just another interesting day in Pegasus...

John was tired and aching; it had been a long and trying day. He'd been up early to try to catch up on paperwork and set duty rosters, interrupted before breakfast with an off-world team needing assistance back to the gate – no hostiles, thank god, but they'd been caught in a partial collapse of the ruins they were exploring and had injuries. There were too many trees too close to the gate for a jumper so he, Ronan, a medic and a handful of Marines had jogged the two miles in to carry the more severely injured out on stretchers and assisted those more ambulatory on the long walk.

As soon as they'd been settled into the infirmary there had been a small explosion and fire in one of the new labs Ancient Tech was checking out – something that apparently the Ancients had left running. He was less and less impressed by the Ancients – they were so freaking smart yet they forgot to shut down dangerous things before they abandoned their city? Not to mention the glaring lack of information in the database. So far they'd come across two complete lab complexes that weren't in the database and didn't even show up on the city schematic. He hated to think what unexpected thing they'd stumble across next that the Ancients had left behind to bite their descendents in the ass.

It was late now and dark outside the windows. He'd spent hours in the infirmary sitting with a dinged and bruised Rodney and a singed-but-mostly-okay Miko, waiting for word on the others until Beckett had caught up enough to check him over and kick him out to get some sleep. He'd missed dinner in the mess so had settled for a cold sandwich, toba root chips, and some kind of fruit that looked like a fat banana but tasted like a peach, sort of. At least he wasn't starving anymore. But he was wet and smoky, he had scratches on his hands, arms, and neck from shattering crystal and the Ancient version of glass from the lab as they'd fought the fires. His body had already ached from carrying a stretcher off-planet earlier, before he'd helped with getting people out of the lab. He'd strained something in his back and side when he'd slipped in the ankle-deep water on the floor down there while carrying an unconscious scientist. Fortunately he hadn't fallen or dropped the man – there were a lot of jagged edges in that mess of shattered crap. Cleaning and repairs were going to be unpleasant.

He wanted to sleep but he wanted to be clean first. The door to his quarters slid open as he approached, the lights coming up to a comfortable level as he stepped inside. Stopping only long enough to remove his boots and gun belt, he headed straight into bathroom attached to his small quarters and stripped, leaving the soggy and filthy uniform where it fell, and stepped into the shower.

Never before had be been so glad that Atlantis responded to his thoughts. The water came on at just the right temperature, beating down steadily over his bent head and aching shoulders, just hard enough to massage and hot enough to relax the tired and knotted muscles without scalding his skin. He scrubbed his hair carefully as there were still blood and shards of crystal in it, and soaped his scratches thoroughly before washing the rest of himself. Then he leaned tiredly on the wall so that the water ran down his back.

The only trouble was, the water could only reach part of him at once and he ached all over. And it was getting to be an effort just to stand up. A hot tub – or a jacuzzi tub – would be heaven right now, he decided. Hot water and massaging jets he could just lie down in...

If he hadn't been looking down he'd have missed it; the drain spun shut like the iris on the SGC Stargate and the shower floor beneath his feet began to sink. Startled, even though the movement was so smooth he barely felt it, he jerked upright. Water was bubbling up around his feet as the floor continued to sink. Something nudged the back of his knee and he looked back to see that a ledge remained at seat height to him even as the floor continued to sink. He sat down carefully, keeping one hand on the wall for balance, not surprised this time when a handrail appeared for him.

By the time the floor stopped moving he was in a sunken tub up to his neck, sitting on a ledge that reclined slightly, and pulsing jets of hot water – not air – were massaging his sore body. He relaxed bit by bit and the shape of the tub conformed – letting his legs come up, his back recline more. A cool gel-like pillow appeared to cradle his neck and head, letting him relax completely and at the same time keeping him from overheating. The overhead shower slowed to just a warm mist that eased his smoke-clogged throat and sinuses, and the jets continued to gently pummel him until he felt like warm jello...the heat stayed nearly constant, cooling only slightly when he began to doze.

It was an effort to make himself stand up in preparation to getting out of what was now a tub set deeply into the floor. Once again Atlantis solved the problem – drains opened to release the water and steps appeared even as the floor began to rise again. He stepped up but by the time he reached the top step the floor was level and solid again.

He shook his head in bemusement and looked around for a towel, trying to remember if he'd done laundry lately. But before he could move to search, warm dry air swirled from vents that opened in the walls, drying his skin without chilling him.

He realized he was grinning like a fool – and that he'd forgotten to bring any clothes into the bathroom with him. What the hell – his quarters were private. He smiled again, though, and made it a point to give the bathroom wall a fond pat as he stepped through the door, thinking Thank you, that was fantastic.

The lights dimmed slowly as he pulled on his sweat pants and a t-shirt and climbed into his bed. Only the faintest glow remained from the bathroom by the time his head hit the pillow. Lulled by the sound of the ocean against the city-ship's platform and the gentle hum of the ATA in the back of his mind, he whispered goodnight to Atlantis as he drifted off.

Life in Pegasus could be demanding and horrifying and desperate and exhausting, and there were times he wished he'd never seen that damn chair in Antarctica. But other things, like a semi-sentient city that liked him, made up for it...

~The End~

Thanks for reading!