Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. Not beta-read; don't shoot.

Homesick

Did you ever notice that when you peer into a mostly-empty beer can, you can't see your reflection? Sure, you can see the reflection of something, God only knows what, but a person it isn't. More sort of – golden lines and shimmers of colour. It's a bit of a stupid way to pass your time, actually. But trying to spot her reflection in the bottom of her beer can was exactly what Leah Sorensen was doing. She'd split half of the remaining dregs down her dress in the process. The problem was, whenever she got close enough to think she might be able to see something, her head would block out the light and the inside of the can would go suddenly black. On the other hand, whenever she moved her head backwards, then all she could see was the golden beer and a few bubbles and a sort of line thingy where the light hit the curved bottom of the can.

Leah must have spent a good fifteen minutes searching for her reflection before she realised what she was doing and it suddenly occurred to her to wonder if she might be drunk. You weren't supposed to get drunk at official parties. Ha, she wasn't supposed to get drunk at all. Her Daddy the Baptist Air Force chaplain would pass away from despair if he found out. And it wasn't like she hadn't managed to get the whole way through her life up till this point without the slightest desire to try it. But she was just so miserable…

She took another mouthful of beer, the way it tingled her lips not bothering her like it had at the beginning of the night, and a bit of it escaped down her chin. She wiped it off and then told herself in a not-terribly-convincing voice that she wasn't drunk. Sure, there was a small pyramid of cans on the floor beside her sandalled feet, but she knew she hadn't drunk all of them.

Well. She was pretty sure.

Maybe.

A pair of boots appeared next to the pyramid. For a moment she stared at them stupidly, then she remembered that boots usually came with legs and a body attached and it occurred to her to look up and find the face they belonged to. Military. Not one of the many scientists who populated Atlantis and made her feel like she was back in junior high and failing chemistry again. Military - and she knew him. Yes. Someone important. What was his name again?

He was smiling at her as though there were something very amusing, but it was still a kind smile, and he asked in a gentle voice, "You didn't drink all of that yourself, did you?"

She tried, and failed, to remember if it were completely against the rules for her to be drunk when she was off duty. Maybe it was; maybe they'd sack her and send her back to Earth. That would be nice.

She nodded, shrugged, and then stared at him incomprehensibly, because all that moving of her head had made her feel a little woozy. Truth be told, she was starting to wonder if there wasn't something to be said in favour of her previous life of alcoholic abstinence. Normally by now she would have been chuckling at the drinkers. Instead she was – oh. The word was gone.

The military guy was still looking at her, still amused. "May I sit?"

She nodded and shuffled over so he could have space on the bench beside her, the can pyramid sitting like a punctuation mark between their feet. There was an awkward silence – at least, it felt awkward to her – while she tried to dredge up his name out of the depths of her groggy subconscious. She filled in the pause by humming a song (which she couldn't remember the words of) under her breath. Then it occurred to her that the song she'd picked was an old hymn and probably not, under the circumstances, the best choice. She fell silent again, but the guy was still smiling and now he said, "We used to sing that when I was a kid."

She noted that he was one of the few men in the room who didn't currently have a beer in his hand. Her heart sunk. He probably knew her father. She was only in Atlantis because her Dad was friends with a man on the IOC, some guy he played golf with. Leah had planned herself a year as an exchange teacher in France, but her Dad had said he'd found something better. But it wasn't better. Oh – yes, it was. But then again, it wasn't. She was dismally, miserably homesick. She missed trees and she missed roads. She missed her hamster and she missed her friends. She missed being able to use her mobile at the drop of a hat. She missed seeing films in the cinema the week they came out. She missed white chocolate with hazelnuts. She missed home.

She missed her Mom.

"I'm Evan Lorne," said the man. She realised that he was still sitting there and that her brain had been wandering without her noticing it. Evan Lorne? So that was… Major Lorne, right? No. That was Lieutenant Colonel Lorne. It was his official ceremony, they'd come out here, all the suits and uniforms, to make him up a rank, or whatever it was that they did. He was taking Colonel Sheppard's place as the new CO of Atlantis, now that Sheppard was marrying Doctor Weir and they were going back to Earth. Leah had only been here a week, but even she knew the whole story.

Then she realised her brain was wandering again. It made no sense. Wasn't alcohol supposed to make you bouncy?

"It's putting me to sleep, I think," she said, out of the blue, but he managed to nod earnestly as though that were the most logical response in the world.

"It does that to me as well, sometimes," he said, "but I'm not really a big drinker so it doesn't matter. Why don't you come and grab some fresh air with me, hmm? You might find it helps."

"I'll fall off a balcony." She giggled suddenly and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

He grinned, and then stood up and offered her his hand, "Come on. I promise not to let you fall off, Leah."

Oh. He knew her name. Well, it made sense. She supposed that everyone in Atlantis knew her name. She was, after all, the new teacher who'd come out after the last one had married an Athosian and moved to the mainland. She guessed that everyone was taking bets on how long she'd be able to stick it out here in Atlantis. She didn't figure it would be very long.

She took his hand and it was big and warm and he wrapped his fingers around hers and helped her to her feet. It was at that particular point that she looked at him properly and realised what lovely eyes he had. Maybe there was something worth staying here for, after all.

Unfortunately, was a few seconds later that she threw up on his boots.

Oh, yes, a nice moral-based 'how I met your father' story to tell the children…