Suspicion

The cafeteria was becoming a favorite hang-out for John Sheppard after hours. It was usually quiet, with only a few people coming in and out. Some came looking for a small ration of coffee or a snack to get them through a late night work session. Some came looking for somebody else and some people came to escape to a safe place with no pressures associated with it.

The kitchen actually closed down around 2000 hours, but CW3 Leiter was almost always there until 2200 hours. She would seem like she was cleaning, but John was starting to wonder if she was setting herself up to be Atlantis' "bartender", their "Guinnan" from the old Star Trek: The Next Generation television show.

John didn't approach Chief for anything tonight. He, instead, sat alone in a dark corner, trying to get rid of the fowl taste of the past couple of days. His eyes were hooded and his hand was busy flipping a pen on the table. He was thinking about the mistrust, the suspicion, and the anger of recent events and wondered if the Earth/Athosian relationship would ever recover. He was thinking more specifically of the friendship he was developing with Teyla and the betrayal she must be feeling.

As he sat there, the thinking became stewing. He was getting more and more pissed as the replay of the details entered his mind. He knew that if he didn't calm his mind, it would get to the point that he would want to shoot something. Sergeant Bates' face entered his mind unbidden and the thought of shooting him made John smile.

"You know, I could get you something to drink."

John looked up at the sound of Helena Leiter's voice and summoned a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Not thirsty."

She looked as if she understood. "That's why I was offering." She leaned against the table and looked out at the cafeteria. "Radek Zalenka says that the Ancients left behind a great amount of equipment perfect for the 'distillation of medicinal libations'."

John leaned forward and looked up at her, his eyes narrow. "Are you trying to tell me that there is a still somewhere in Atlantis?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I never try to tell anyone anything. I either say it or I don't. I'm just doing my job and offering a member of this expedition," she smiled and finally looked down at him. "Comfort food, if you will."

John smiled at this. "Well, I think I'll pass this time." He held up his finger. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer and I'm not saying I won't take you up on it at another time." He frowned again. "It's just that that kind of comfort food I take better when I'm in a better mood. If I indulged now, it could turn ugly. I'm better off taking a run."

Helena nodded. "Well, then I'll get you some water. You should be well hydrated to run away from demons."

John frowned. "I wouldn't call it running away."

Her eyebrows rose. "What, you want to chase these things? Do you like feeling like crap?"

"I prefer to stand and fight."

"Spoken like a Marine." She straightened from her leaning position with a wry smile. "I'll go get your water."

As she walked away, he growled. "We're called fighter pilots for a reason."

Her only response was a wave.

oOo

John was again in the cafeteria, drinking some of Dr. Zalenka's "medicinal libation" with a meal that he actually wasn't interested in eating. Apparently, Chief Leiter received some intel that indicated Zalenka was complaining about the food and his penance was a percentage of the yield. John thought that it wasn't bad, once he got past the taste.

"May I join you?" a familiar voice asked.

He looked up to see Teyla, smiling at him in her gentle way.

He straightened. "Well, sure…I was just thinking…"

She sat and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish.

He glanced away and offered half a smile. "Never mind. What are you doing here so late?"

She looked to the table and then back to him. "I was looking for you."

He looked down at his cup, then. "Oh."

"Major Sheppard, please look at me."

He looked up, reluctantly.

"I wanted to thank you for defending my honor. I know that you were the voice in defense of my people and me throughout everything."

John frowned. After clearing his throat, he said. "I'm sorry."

She looked confused. "For?"

"Bates. Any discomfort you or your people felt during this past week. McKay going through your stuff. Any doubts anyone may have had about you, personally, or your people in general."

She smiled in her gentle way. "With all due respect, Major, it is not your place to apologize for the actions of others."

"It is when I'm their CO." He looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes earnest.

She tilted her head. "Set your mind at ease." She held his eyes with hers as she spoke. "Dr. Weir and I have spoken and come to an understanding. Dr. McKay was doing what he had been told to do and I do not feel like he or you ever had any doubts about me or my people. As for Sergeant Bates, well, I have chosen to believe that he was just looking out for the best interests of the city. My people are happier on the mainland than they were in the city. We are, all, in a good place."

John nodded. After a long bit of silence, during which he began to feel uncomfortable, he looked at the chocolate cake on his plate.

"Have you ever tasted chocolate?"