A/N: So, this is the first of a few short stories that I shall write in between Life As A Shadow Parts 1 and 2. This one is set just before and during Chapter 1 of Life As A Shadow. I hope you enjoy it. I would really appreciate reviews as I am not sure that I can really write short stories, I'm more of a long story writer. Thanks.


Well, this day hadn't turned out like he planned. Not even slightly. Not that he ever really made plans. Plans were for people with families, with hopes and dreams for the future. In short, people with lives.

When Detective John Sheppard woke up yesterday, he had planned to go into work and do what he could to solve some freaky murders. But that was as far as the actual planning went. His investigation had taken him from making inquiries at the hospital to a crappy little motel off the beaten path and to a possible suspect. Following this suspect had led him to a poker game at Planet Hollywood on the Strip and it had all gone completely insane from there. Of course, the desiccated corpses had been strange to start with.

How was he supposed to know that the guy he had been following was an alien from another galaxy? The clues were there. His strange look, his incredible strength and speed, and then there was the moment he jumped off a rooftop to land on the ground with a thud, only to get up and run away. See, not planned.

So, logically, the next step was to return to the motel and get in the suspect's room. There, he found another body and a lot of money – which he put in his car (he hadn't planned that, it just happened).

His unplanned investigation then led to him getting 'kidnapped' by the government and being accosted by a guy in a sharp suit who claimed to be a scientist. He first threatened to ruin his life and then proceed to tell John how ruined his life was already. And then he told him about travelling in space using something called a – what was it? – Stargate and aliens and invasions and alternate realities and a John Sheppard who was a hero. That definitely wasn't planned.

When he had been allowed to leave, he had gone home to shower, change out of his clothes from the day before and pack. McKay had told him that they would take care of the murderer… the Wraith. But, having heard everything McKay had told him he knew he couldn't go back to his normal life. Not that he had plans beyond leaving Las Vegas as soon as he could. Ad with all that money, he had the opportunity to start a new life very far away from here.

So, he quit his job and drove out of town, without looking back.

If only he had kept it that way. But then, his stupid brain had to go and figure out that the Wraith would use the power lines to get the energy he needed to charge his device – whatever it was. So, he went looking and found him – it. He had phoned McKay and told him. But instead of leaving it well alone as McKay had advised, he went in with his gun and no real idea of what he was doing.

He certainly hadn't planned on being shot by the Wraith who had an automatic firearm, possibly a P-90. But, he did at least know that the Wraith had been stopped, the explosion of his trailer made that clear.

Now, he sat against his car, his chest bleeding out, unsure of what to do next. He was dying, that was obvious. He could feel his life slipping away and he had no strength. As smoke billowed over his head, he knew had to at least try to move, if there was to be any hope of saving himself. Rodney's team would likely be here soon, so he only had a short time to keep himself going.

However, his mind couldn't seem to focus on what he wanted his body to do. Now really wasn't the time to question whether he should have even bothered getting out of yesterday. And yet, he continued to wonder about all the events that had led him to this moment.

McKay had said that if it hadn't been for the crash in Afghanistan, perhaps he would have been a hero. John couldn't see that really. Even if he had been able to save her, he doubted his life would have been much different. He always found a way to ruin things and he would have eventually ruined what he had with her too.

Stop it! he berated himself. Stop thinking and start doing! With an incredible amount of effort, he heaved himself up from the ground. But, it was too much and after only a few stumbling steps, his legs gave way and he fell, landing on his face. He wasn't going to make it. Dammit!

He turned over on his back, groaning loudly. The sky was blue, but was marred by the black smoke. The ground beneath him was hard and dry and dusty.

He was going to die alone in the desert. Ironic. It was as if his death had been delayed by a few years. This could have been Afghanistan.

Maybe, he would be with her now. He wasn't even sure he believed in that sort of thing. God. Heaven. Hell. The Afterlife. But, now seemed as good a time as any to start. He started at the sky, unmoving.

As if on cue, a bright light began to fill his vision. He tried to turn his head to the left but it would not comply. He directed his eyes to the side and saw…something impossible.

A great ball of dazzling white light was there beside him. He had no idea what it was, but it was beautiful. There was something about it that made him feel…better? He felt calmer in the presence of the light, almost forgetting he had very recently been shot.

Then the light began to change. It seemed to be morphing into the shape of a human. Not just a human, a woman. Oh, my God.

She was different. Her hair was dark and long, her dress looked somewhat like a wedding dress from Medieval times, white, hugging her slim waist, but flowing down to the arid ground and long loose-wristed sleeves that seemed to flap gently in a non-existent breeze. Different, but definitely her. She was glowing, she was beautiful and she was here.

Transfixed, he saw her smile kindly at him, and she kneeled down next to him. Her bright green eyes looked over his body, assessing his condition, as she had done countless times in the past, before his attention returned to his face.

Their eyes met and he could do nothing to stop the moisture escaping from his own. It seemed like they stayed that way for an eternity before he tried to speak. "Liz?" His voice was nothing more than a strangled whisper and he barely heard it himself. But the slight shake of her head told him that she did.

"No, John," she said, softly. "I'm…I'm, Elizabeth." She paused. "I'm from another place."

McKay's words about meeting another John Sheppard in a parallel universe came back to him. Did this mean that what the scientist had said wasn't a complete pile of crap? Was there truly another more successful Sheppard out there? Was there more than one? Was Liz – Elizabeth – also in these other places? Were there universes where John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir were happy together?

Or was this just his dying mind giving him some sort of final vision? "Are you real?" he croaked.

Elizabeth put her hand on his stubbled cheek and stroked it gently. It felt real. He didn't think he could say too many words at once, so he simply asked, "Alternate reality?"

Her smile became more of a grin and she nodded as tears started to fall. "How did you know?"

"Weird day," was all he could manage.

She looked at him closely and John got the feeling that she was seeing a lot more than just his face. It was as if she could seem through him, into his soul. It should have been unsettling, creepy, but it wasn't. It was her – well, not quite her – and he would never hide anything from her.

His mouth was dry and he swallowed (which hurt a lot more than the gunshot wound – wounds?) and tried to speak again. "Why are you here?"

"For you, John," she said.

He wanted to sound like he was joking, because that was what he did. "Are you going to take me to Heaven?" However, his throat didn't allow the levity to show.

She smirked, as though she understood. So, her Sheppard used humour as a coping mechanism too. "No, but I'll wait with you."

"Wait for what?" It was getting more difficult to talk.

"You'll see," she said, cryptically.

Unable to speak anymore, his eyes rolled back to the sky above him. As she moved her hand from his cheek to his arm, he tried to focus on her once again. "You look just like her," he whispered.

"I know," she replied. "Don't worry, you'll see her soon."

He felt comforted. He was not alone; he wasn't going to die in this place with no one here with him. Elizabeth, an ethereal being from a different reality, was with him, reminding him what it was like to be cared for. This was much better than he imagined his death would be.

His chest was causing him trouble as he tried to breathe. It seemed to be going numb. He couldn't even feel his legs and his arms were following. This was it. Wait, I'll see her soon? Did she really say that?

Another light grew behind Elizabeth. What was this? Elizabeth just smiled down serenely at him. She didn't seem concerned by it.

And, then he understood why. It was her. The differences between Liz and Elizabeth were clear. Liz wore the black knee-length skirt and red sweater that she donned on their first date. Her hair was curly and short (she had preferred shorter hair, long hair would get in the way during a medical emergency) and a subtle shade of auburn. She smiled at him as well, but it was the smile of someone finally laying eyes on the object of their affection. She had missed him as much as he had missed her.

He tried to smile, but couldn't and hoped his eyes would convey his joy at seeing her. "There you are," he tried to say, but his voice failed him.

Liz's hand reached out to him, and instead of feeling numb as he did a moment ago, or nothing like he had the last few years, John felt whole again. He rose from the ground and took her hand. He turned to Elizabeth but was shocked by what he saw.

Elizabeth remained on the ground, as did his body. She was still looking down at it, seemingly unaware that he was now standing with Liz. He looked back at his soulmate.

"It's all right, John," she said, soothingly. "Everything's all right now."

"It is?" he asked, his voice loud and strong again.

"Yes," she answered. "You saved the world, you know."

"I did?"

She nodded. "I'm proud of you, John."

"Really?"

"Really."

He slowly raised the hand he held and kissed the top of it, just as he had done when he said goodnight to her after their second date.

She smiled at the memory and then said the same words as she had then. "you can do better than that, can't you, Flyboy?"

Pulling her into his arms, their lips met and he realised a simple truth, not noticing the light glowing around them.

This is what Heaven feels like.