Spoilers: Thirty-Eight Minutes, Siege II, The Defiant One, Intruder, Runner
Revised on: 1-16-06 due to beta's suggestions.
Beta: J.A.B.
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"My name is John . . . Sheppard."
He paused and looked down at the small tape recorder he'd picked up on Earth and smiled. This was something that he had wanted to do since he stepped through the stargate.
"A pilot."
He paused again and turned his chair so that he was sideways to 'his' desk in 'his' dark office. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
There was a smirk on his face.
"Two years ago, I got shot through a wormhole. I'm in a distant part of the universe, living in an ancient city full of dedicated people—"
There was a shush of sound and he looked sideways at the dark doorway to see Dr. Rodney McKay frowning over a pile of papers that haphazardly covered the floor.
The paper was a new thing that Rodney said he didn't have time on which to waste. After the brush with the virus on the way back to Atlantis and a few mishaps accessing the Ancient data, Earth was insisting on paper backups for all the departments stationed in Atlantis. After such a long time with an almost paperless existence, some were not happy with the requirement from the top brass.
Like Rodney.
"Hi, Rodney," John called in an overly cheerful tone. Sheppard's paperwork was done for the day.
The scientist just huffed and bent down to pick up the papers, not even looking up at John as he spoke. "Have you still got a copy of that schedule that Elizabeth sent out last week? I can't find mine." McKay shifted a few papers to straighten the edges and tried to tap the stack back into shape.
Rodney hissed sharply as a corner of paper caught his thumb and drew blood. It was almost absently that he stuck his injured digit into his germ-riddled mouth. For someone who was always worried about germs, McKay seemed to have no problems with his saliva getting into a cut.
"God, McKay! Don't do that in front of me!"
McKay looked up in irritation still sucking his thumb. "Oh, oh, I've seen you ask to be intentionally killed because of a giant bug on your neck! Seen you intentionally leave to blow yourself up. You even tried to take on a super wraith by yourself. Are you telling me you can't stand a little paper cut?"
McKay's eyebrows were at half-mast on his forehead, giving him the appropriate look of surprise at the military man's sensitivity to such a small thing. He looked away from Sheppard to glance at the cut again.
"I'm bleeding like a stuck pig," Rodney murmured as he squeezed the injury slightly.
"Get away from me!" squeaked John from the desk. He was pushing his chair further behind his desk with his hands flat on the desktop.
McKay looked back at the slightly sweating man in the black t-shirt and smirked. "You are actually upset about this. Why I had no idea you were a—"
John suddenly dug around in the top desk drawer and leaped up from his chair. He scuttled close enough to McKay to drop the memo and then scuttle back to the safety of his desk.
"What—"
"The schedule," replied Sheppard shortly. "Now, go back to your lab."
"Ah! Good." McKay placed the paper on the top of the pile and then he stood hefting the bulk of paper. "Really, are you okay? 'Cause you look pale."
"No, I'm good. Just . . . go."
Sheppard waived a hand at the bleeding man in his doorway.
McKay just shook his head with a smug smile. "You are such a—"
"McKay!"
"Okay, I'm leaving . . . you big baby!"
John waited to make sure the scientist was gone before he relaxed into his chair with a grin. He found that one of the ways to get Rodney into a better mood was to allow him to preen and crow over some small thing. A perceived fault in a coworker or something that was worth a little harmless blackmail always did the trick.
Rodney liked to feel more secure about his surroundings and if that meant having him run around for the next three weeks cackling about Sheppard's fear of paper cuts, well more power to him.
Besides, John liked their mutual war of words and gestures. It was relaxing in a place that just about wrung the hope and energy right out of people.
Sheppard looked down at the tape recorder and realized he had never stopped the tape.
It didn't matter; he didn't mind Rodney's voice being on the tape.
"My friends," he sighed.
And they were his friends.
Elizabeth and Rodney had been there from the start, helping him with decisions he was little prepared to make in the beginning. Even though he still liked to jump first and let his gut lead him, he was learning to listen to non-military opinions on how to defend the city.
Ronon was a newer addition to the team, but he was becoming a fast friend during military workout schedules and shooting at the range. Besides John was just lazy enough to let Ronon beat the living crap out of the Marines any time the big guy felt like he needed to settle his nerves.
Ronon appreciated it.
Teyla was not an original member of the expedition either, but she was there from the moment the Atlantis expedition found out about the Wraith and their devastating force in this galaxy. She was a calming voice in the sometimes-chaotic moments of trying to survive in this hostile environment.
He tried not to think of Ford, the big kid who seemed full of life and hope—
Not going there today.
"My friends," he said with more force.
He shifted in his chair and let his right hand caress his sidearm, which was strapped snuggly to his thigh.
"I've made enemies . . . powerful . . . dangerous."
The specter of the red haired Keeper popped into his head and he angrily swiped at his eyes to force it away. Steve . . . Bob . . . the Genii and the countless others that had tried to kill him, one way or another.
"I used to want to go home, warn Earth, but now all I want to find is a way to keep Atlantis safe."
He paused and looked at the far blank wall. It was too stark in here for his taste. Far too stark.
"But I do want the people of Earth to look upward and share in the wonders I've seen . . . and to feel the horrors of this developing war in the Pegasus."
He didn't know why, but that last part almost made John choke up. Now that he'd said it out loud, he didn't want the ordinary citizens back home knowing about this hideous war. It was bad enough that the SGC personnel knew about the life sucking things that wanted to 'feed' on the billions that were living on Earth.
There was a slight cough from the doorway and his hazel eyes shifted to see Major Lorne. The surprised look on Lorne's face told John all he needed to know. Lorne had heard part of his last words.
Lorne took his time, crossed his arms, and tipped himself against the wall beside the entryway.
Here it comes.
"Colonel? What the frell are you doing, sir?" asked a deceptively calm voice.
Sheppard flicked off the recorder and slumped back into his chair. "What's it look like I'm doing?" he asked in a defensive tone.
"Colonel, I don't think you were listening to me. I asked you what the frell you're doing."
John studied the shorter man for a moment before his eyes cleared. "Oh. So, you're not going to give me grief about this are you?"
Lorne smiled. "Nah, I don't think giving my CO a hard time about pretending to be John Crichton would be in my best interest."
John gave a mock scowl. "So, you don't have the mivonks?"
Lorne snorted at that comment. "I don't think we want to have that conversation." The Major pulled away from the wall and drew closer to the desk in the dark room. "Why are you doing this?"
John shrugged one shoulder. "To have something to do? Hear the sound of my own voice? I don't know. I just got to thinking about the Ancients, wormholes and pilots too far away from Earth."
Lorne looked at the recorder but didn't pick it up. "You know you can't send this back home. It would be classified."
"Not planning on sending them to Earth. I'm just going to stash them in Atlantis somewhere and worry about what to do with them later."
Lorne nodded.
They were quiet for a few moments, John looking at the blank wall and Lorne looking at the floor.
"Do you think I could pull off the black leather pants look?" asked John suddenly, breaking the silence.
Despite his natural personality default of 'solemn,' Lorne burst out laughing at the image of John Sheppard pacing around Atlantis in the tight black leather ensemble of Commander John Crichton. "Ah, I think that's another conversation we shouldn't have, sir. Maybe you should ask one of the female expedition members."
Sheppard muttered something that sounded like 'coward.' He shifted in his chair again and turned to look Lorne in the eyes. "Wynona."
Both men put hands to their holstered sidearms.
"Ah-ha! No, no, no. I'm claiming 'Wynona' as mine!" said John forcefully. It was good to be the CO in these situations.
"Come on—"
"Major, there can be only one Wynona."
Major Lorne looked disgruntled. "Okay, okay. How about I call mine Aeryn?"
Sheppard looked thoughtful. "I don't know. She's supposed to be my girlfriend. I don't know if I'm comfortable having you name your 9 mil after her."
Lorne looked shocked. "You do know you're not actually John Crichton, right?"
John grinned. "Oh, okay, go ahead and use Aeryn. I guess she won't mind."
Lorne shook his head. "You know you sound megra-fahrbot, don't you? Sir?" He tacked on that last part at the last moment just in case Sheppard minded the familiar tone.
Sheppard lost his grin and sighed. "I'd have to be to agree to come here. I could say the same about everyone on this base. You included."
The Major felt bad brining down Colonel Sheppard's good mood. It wasn't too often that they got peaceful moments to be themselves. "Sure." He was quiet for a moment. "So maybe during my next mission can I have a little fun with Dr. McKay?"
He made it a question, just in case the Colonel had an objection to anyone messing with McKay.
John raised his eyebrow. "How so?"
"I was thinking of a little word substitution. Give Dr. McKay the full 'Farscape' experience."
Sheppard tilted his head and Lorne was afraid he'd nix the idea.
"Come on, I owe him after that sunlight planet. You don't know how much I put up with."
John nodded his head fondly. Oh, he could give a good guess what Rodney had complained about to Lorne during that mission.
"Okay, go ahead, but don't bother him if something serious comes up that he needs to think about."
"Not a problem. Sir." Lorne stood, gave a sketchy salute and ambled out the dark office with a new spring in his step.
John turned away from the doorway to get comfortable in his chair again. He flicked the recorder on. "Now, where was I?"
End