A/N: Haaaa! Hahahahaha! Done! All done and this is a bit of a monster of a chapter - about five or some conversations rolled into one - but it really needed to be this long because this was supposed to be a chapter that cleared up a few issues, and apparently, it took a lot of talking to get those issues cleared up.

Anyway, after this, we'll be back to Off the Screen pieces and I alreaday have a feeling, this season might be bigger than the last one, just because some episodes will demand a few more views on it than just one. We'll see.

Also, lalez, I'm not sure this what you expected to happen but I hope you like how it turned out anyway. Also, you actually gave me an idea for an Off the Screen story in your last review :D

Four

Moore

And look, I have discovered another thing to hate about this place: it's one damn big ass city. Like, really big. It doesn't even look that big at first or when you just stay in the radius of the occupied parts. But hey, try to find one errant captain who got spooked by herself during an innocent sparring match and you're pretty screwed.

I mean, I think I finally found out where she is – someone should tell the communication people around here that their network security is shoddy at best, because I managed to crack the code that operates the location of people's radio sets within two days of settling here – but it's a bitch to get there, what with lots of transporters still offline, physical connections between towers having been destroyed, that kind of thing.

So after jumping through about half the city in transporters I still don't completely trust, circumventing missing walkways and catwalks by taking sweeping detours and, in one instance, walking by a pretty big hole in the outer wall pretty high up, I finally find the place I've been looking for. It's a balcony, probably the highest she could find. To be honest, I'm just glad that it has actual railings and isn't some kind of windy cliff above the city. Also, not anywhere in a restricted area where she might get herself arrested by overeager SFs or something.

Oh well. No time like the present and all that, so come on, Major, just get over yourself and go out there. Taking a deep breath, I just hope that the city hasn't already alerted her to my presence but since the door actually opens it either didn't. Or she decided she doesn't want to keep hiding from me any longer. I'm not sure which of those I prefer.

Anyway… I'm probably doing this wrong but I'm not known for my subtle and nuanced approach to interpersonal clusterfucks so might as well just follow my reputation. Stepping out on the platform, I immediately go with, "So even in Pegasus, some old habits die hard, huh?"

I have to be honest: it's gratifying to see her wince and turn around, looking very much like a deer in headlights at least for a moment. I get that she didn't actively want to hurt me back in that work-out room but… it did. Telling me that Sheppard's one looming quality was that he doesn't leave anyone behind kind of hit a raw spot. One I didn't even know I had but probably should have known. Considering how I kept tensing up whenever Reece would mention not leaving anyone behind during our little adventure during the siege, that probably was kind of stupid. Still…

"Sir, I…" Nope, not yet, Lieutenant. Captain.

"Nice spot you got here, Captain. Come here often?" I know I'm being an ass right now, despite taking care not to sound sarcastic, just friendly as I sit down next to her, putting the package I brought off to the side, so she can't see it for now. Or maybe that's what makes me an ass, I don't know. But shit, I'm still smarting from that blow in the work-out room. That and my inability to fight back and just let her drive me against the fucking wall.

She looks decidedly unhappy about me invading her private space like that and that makes me feel decidedly unhappy but I've got a feeling that if she really wanted me to leave her alone, she'd have stated so already, in unmistakable terms. And yeah, it kinda looks like she's debating how to continue with herself for a moment before she says, "Not as often as I'd like, sir."

Okay, interesting. She seems to have decided to play along for the time being. "City getting on your nerves?"

"More like her inhabitants, sir. Some of them, at least." Mh, that's what I thought. Reece is, deep at heart, not exactly a loner but definitely someone who values her time for herself and being in a place where she's available to everyone, all the time, just a radio call and maybe a ten minute walk away, definitely must be a challenge for her. Kind of a miracle that she made it for so long here.

I'm not about to give her the satisfaction of going after the most obvious part of her statement, though. Because that would be making it easy for her. And I'm not here to make it easy for her, or at least not right away. "Her, Captain?"

"Yeah," she says, looking at me, her legs drawn up and her arms resting there. "City's a she." There's a gentle breeze up here, and instead of the usual tight regulations bun, her hair is in a lose ponytail. Little strands of curls are hanging in her face. I hate how hot and bothered that makes me.

I frown. "The city is female? It told you that or what?"

She's so close to rolling her eyes. Kudos to her self-restraint. Maybe she should have called that up earlier, in the work-out room? "Not exactly, no. But she feels female, most of the time anyway." I'm about to raise to the bait and ask her about that "most of the time" thing but she seems to have decided to quit playing along, after all. "Sir, correct me if I'm wrong but… you didn't come here to ask me how communicating with Ancient tech works, did you?"

Right. I could, of course, contradict her but that would be lying. And while she isn't any good at lying herself, she's pretty good at spotting other people's lies. So, fine. "No, Captain, I didn't." She's about to ask me why I did come and really, let's shorten this considerably by me adding, "I just had a feeling we weren't really finished back in the work-out room."

She swallows and finally I can see the little lieutenant I had to let go a year ago. She's not the same, not even here and now where she's the furthest away from anything military, wearing her decidedly unmilitary Atlantis uniform, but this is the first time I see her since coming here when she doesn't look all hard and steely and ready to take on another company sized group of Wraith any minute. "I… I'm really sorry, sir." I somehow knew she'd say that and I'd prepared myself to not forgive her the minute she does because, you know, it's kind of inevitable that she'd say that because she always says that and truth to be told, I've been ready to forgive her the moment I stepped on this damn balcony. "I had no right to do what I did in the work-out room. There's no excuse for what I did, and I have no idea how to make up for it. I'm really, truly sorry."

"Yeah," I hear myself saying, "I know you are." That's the truth. I'd know that she really meant this even if I weren't sitting next to her and could see it all over her, in her slightly slumped position, her damn green eyes, just everything. But… even though I probably already have forgiven her, I'm not ready to say that out loud. "It's just… it's been nine months but it's still a one of a kind clusterfuck, Kid."

She looks away, back at the sea and kind of laughs but it sounds half choked, just like her voice when she says, almost too fast for me to process everything right away, "Eight months ago, Mats and I were sitting here, right here where you and I are sitting now and it was in the middle of the night and we just had had to deal with two clusterfucks of our own and then we had some of that hot chocolate Laura had put in that farewell package she gave me and I told him that I was still missing Laura and he told me that she could take care of herself. I told him I knew that. We were convinced that she'd take whatever the Milky Way through at her. And only now I learn that she'd already been dead for a month at that point."

Oh hell.

By now, the sun has sunk and it's getting dark and for whatever reason, there are lights coming up all around the city, just not on this balcony and I can't see her crying in the twilight but I can hear her choking with tears and to be fully honest, it took me until this moment to realize what it must have meant for her to hear that her best friend has been dead for nine months when she didn't even consider that option. I take a deep breath, unable to look at her. "I'm sorry, Kid."

I can't see her, mostly because I'm busy not breaking out in tears as well but I can hear her. "Only if it really was your fault, sir. And I don't think it was." Um. Considering what that fight in the work-out room was about, this is a bit of a one-eighty.

And, funny enough, I actually believe her. Whatever she said in that work-out room, she doesn't think so, anymore. Whatever happened since she ran out, she must have done some thinking and she must have come to the conclusion that she was wrong.

I know that, mostly, because she wouldn't have said that a year ago. Not with that kind of quiet conviction and that calm matter-of-factness. And this is how I know that this year has irrevocably changed her. That battle-hardened Marine-y no-nonsense thing in combat five days ago was impressive and kind of scary but probably mostly due to lack of sleep and a system flooded with adrenaline. That quiet, mature comment, without any hesitation or insecurity in her voice or immediate backtracking tells me more than anything that something about her changed, profoundly.

It doesn't mean that she's right, though. "No," I tell her, and it's probably the hardest thing I had to do, ever since kneeling in front of Laura's mother and handing her the flag, "it was my fault. I didn't pull the trigger but I might as well have."

"I don't think so." She's not the first telling me that. Laura's mother said it. My mother said it. Dee said it. But none of them ever said it so rationally, so unemotionally, as if it's an undisputed fact that Laura didn't die because of me. She says it in such a mature and confident tone that I nearly believe it myself for a moment.

Then, of course, I remember how it really was. "Look, I was there, Kid. When I tell you that it was my fault, it definitely was my fault. I mean… what happened… what happened was…"

"Sir?" What? What? "Do you really want to tell me what happened?"

Huh? Yes? Or why else would I just get into it and… "No. I don't think I want to do that. Not… right now." Okay, or just answer that. That's fine, too. Makes you sound kinda petulant and very much like you have done jack shit to finally learn to cope with it, but sure, go ahead and embarrass yourself in front of a damn captain.

"Okay." Huh? "If you ever want to tell me, I'll be here. If you don't, that's fine, too."

What, just like that? No prodding, no poking, no needling, no accusations, no demands for an explanation? Just… "If you ever want to tell me, I'll be here"? Laura was her best friend, and she died nine months ago, and she doesn't even know what happened or where it happened – unless Dee told her, which I would know, because he would have told me – and all she says is essentially "Just tell me when you're ready" and then leaves me be about it? I'm not… sure what to do about it.

You know, other than say, slightly embarrassed and kinda humbled, "Thank you, Kid."

She nods, very slowly, and is that a… smile on her face? It's kind of hard to tell because there's still no direct light on the balcony and the only light we have here is coming from the brightly lit city and the ocean reflecting the stars above. "You're welcome, sir." I am? Oh. I am. She meant that. I'm honestly not sure now what I find harder to deal with: Scary Battlefield Reece or Understanding Balcony Reece.

So all I do is give her a little embarrassed smile and then look back out on the sea, with her sitting next to me, both of us silent and after a few minutes of that, I start to realize why she would come here of all places. First of all, it's quiet. Sure, there is, way below, the sound of the waves braking against the city's steel cliffs but other than that… not a sound. I don't even know when I had something like that for the last time. Not even at Area 51 did we get truly quiet nights like that. There were always night maneuvers coming over from Nellis or test flights in the night over the lake or the SFs making their rounds. To really get quiet, you'd had to live on the outskirts of the base, and honestly, back then, I just hadn't been in the mood to get into a battle with Base Housing for that.

And I get why else she would go here. This one really like to be by herself – I always wondered how she managed to get along with someone like Laura, or how to survive fucking boot camp, for that matter – and this place here seems to be as far as she can get from the rest of the expedition. You know, safe from that fabled mainland people keep talking about and that I yet have to see. And I know she's got the gene and had flight lessons, and I'd have paid good money to see that but somehow, I don't think those little jumper ships are there just for anyone's convenience.

So… "I miss her."

Yeah. It's not like I didn't at least suspect that or that it comes wholly out of the blue. It's just that I didn't expect her to actually voice it out loud. Make herself vulnerable like that, especially after taking so much care during the siege to show me she could keep on fighting indefinitely and all. And again, something tells me that this is a way more profound way Atlantis changed her than anything I saw during that battle.

Weirdly enough, that quiet admission makes it way easier for me to quietly – more quietly than I'd have wanted to – say, "Me, too, Kid." And I do. God, how I do miss Laura Greenspan. Fucking hell.

As if she just heard that, which, honestly, she most probably did because I swear to God, she learned to mind-read here, too, she keeps quiet. At least for a few moments, before I hear her ask, "Sir?"

Do I really know what she wants to know now? "What?"

"Have you ever talked to anyone about it?" It's kind of annoying that she doesn't let me annoy her. This zen version of her is honestly more unnerving than any other version of her I have come to know.

Mostly, because she seems to have a knack for asking exactly the wrong questions. And by "wrong", I mean "the questions that hit the bull's eye". Because yeah, I might have had that little chat with Dee by the Santa Rosa Sound but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't qualify that as "talking". I also hate to say it but she'd be right. I really should have gone looking for someone to talk to, beyond the mandatory counseling sessions after losing a team member at the SGC because those are bullshit, anyway, and I honestly wish I could just lie and tell her that sure, yeah, I "talked" to someone about it. But like I said: she's damn good at spotting lies, and possibly a mind-reader, too. I shake my head. "No."

That makes her give me a sad little half-smile and something I knew would come, "You should."

Yeah, guess I do. Just not now, okay? Or… ever. Anyway. "Hey, uh, that reminds me… I got you something."

Thankfully, she doesn't ask me how telling me to seek professional help in coping with Laura's death relates to getting her something, just frowns at me when I hand her the neat little package I got her in Rachel shortly before Dee and I shipped out for The Springs. She unwraps it, gingerly, almost as if she's expecting something to jump at her or something and I feel almost a little insulted. Honestly, even I know that this is neither the right place nor the right time for a damn practical joke, Kid.

Because it's so dark, it takes her a moment to recognize the book's front cover but I can still see the exact moment when she does. Even in the dark, I can see the little smile spreading over her face, until she looks at me and I swear her eyes are actually shining like a damn light. Not really trusting myself to say anything, I just scratch my neck and gesture for her to open it up.

As you might have noticed, I have developed a kind really stupid thing with inscriptions and post-it notes and stuff like that and of course I just couldn't help it with this one, either. She has definitely found it by now, tipping the book towards the sparse light coming from the city and yup, that little snort tells me that she has been able to read it.

This is actually a pretty good book, Kid. Really outdid myself with that one, huh?

It's not a lie, though. I was so bored back in The Springs and on the Daedalus that I honestly had no other choice than to crack this one open and read it. It was a bit of a bitch to find someone to provide me with something to wrap it up but it turned out that one of Dr. Novak's engineers is the designated birthday party planner onboard the Daedalus and as such has a nearly dizzying array of wrapping paper stashed in the nooks of his cabin. That was just weird. But, admittedly, really helpful.

Reece looks at me again, dead-pan. "You haven't read the other five, have you?"

Do I look like a guy who'd read kids' books in his spare time? I snort. "No."

The dead-pan intensifies, if that is even possible. "You realize there's no point in not reading them now, right?"

Oh come on. I narrow my eyes at her. "I'm not taking reading assignments from a captain."

Infuriatingly, she just shrugs and packs away the book. "Suit yourself, sir." I did see the little lingering caress she gave its cover and it's really pathetic, but I honestly just caught myself wishing that I was that cover. I really have issues.

Which really leaves one option: quickly and ruthlessly change the topic. With the first thing coming to mind. Something like, "So, about this Lieutenant Rivers guy…"

"I came to him and apologized, yes." She just says that like it's no big deal. This guy constantly tried undermining her, provoking her, ignoring her orders…

"Why?" I honestly don't get it.

And here she is, just shrugging and telling me, with a bit of an "how dumb of a question was that" edge, "Because it was the right thing to do, sir."

Oh, the right thing to do, uh-huh. Right thing my ass. "Come on, Kid, he had it coming."

She nods, slowly, as if to consider my argument which I bet she didn't even spent a second on. "He did, and he said so himself." So why… "But I was senior to him in that situation and losing my shit like that was a really crappy thing to do."

I actually think I'm starting to actively hate this version of her. It's so… mature. I frown at her. "He knew he had it coming and he still let you apologize to him?"

Was that an eye-roll? I'm pretty sure I just saw her rolling her eyes at me. I mean, it's really kind dark here but it definitely looked like she just rolled her eyes. "Sir, it's fine. He's actually a pretty okay guy. Just really inexperienced and insecure. He'll do just fine with a little more seasoning."

Wait, what? "So… he's gonna stay?"

That teases a little amused snort from her, and I'm ridiculously pleased by that. "Nah, he's gonna ship out as soon as he can." No, wait, I am ridiculously pleased by that. Imagine if it turned out that she actually liked him. I might have had to interact with him on a regular basis because that's who she is: if she likes people, she spends time with them. Heck, she even spends time with people she doesn't like. Case in point: me. "Said space vampires are kinda not his thing and he actually prefers Iraq to Pegasus."

Okay, so I said I already hate this place. But honestly, no matter how bad it is here, it just can't be worse than Iraq. We have bath tubs here, after all. It's me snorting now. "Weird guy."

"Absolutely." Is she being sarcastic? Or did she mean that? "But still okay." Did she mean that?

Okay, yes, she probably did. Because she's nothing if not honest. If she says the guy who gave her headaches during a pretty intense time during the siege is an "okay" kind of guy, he is. Still, I can't help sounding at least a little petulant when I say, "If you say so." And, to stop her from possibly needling me about being a sore loser – the original Reece would never have done that but with this new and not sure if improved version, I really don't want to take my chances – I do another little change of topic, because a really stupid idea just started forming in my head, "You could have your own team, you know that, right?"

Another slow nod, this time more to herself than to me, "I do. Would be a terrible idea, though."

Huh, what? "Why?"

She shrugs, and it's supposed to look all casual but for some reason, I can see a certain kind of tension to it. "I'm not ready, sir. I couldn't, as the saying goes, lead my way out of a damn paper bag." No, honestly, that's bullshit. What I saw in that siege was some really, really great potential. Something I'd tried not to see back at the SGC and couldn't ignore in the siege because it basically leapt at me every time I looked at her. "You said it yourself, I made some really bad calls because of an enormous lack of judgement." No. I mean, I did. But… "Case in point: Lieutenant Rivers." Dammit.

I sigh. "You know, considering what you'd been through at that point…"

She shakes her head, and there's nothing casual about it now. "It wasn't just during the siege, sir. People got hurt on my watch before that."

Yeah. That's a shitty thing to happen. But there is something in this she probably didn't want to tell me: she led people. In her year here, she led people, and she led them in combat, or at least that's what it sounds like. She was a goddamn leader. I take a deep breath. "People got hurt on my watch, too, Kid."

For some reason, that makes her wince and I only realize what that just implied when she sputters, "Shit, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to..."

Okay, no, we're not getting into this now. So I just blithely ignore her stuttering and just plow on, "That said, your calls weren't actually all that bad." I mean that. She had some not so stellar moments but let's all be honest: without her, neither Dee nor I would have survived down there. We'd have been Wraith fodder after maybe thirty minutes. But, okay, she had one good point, "Well, aside from that thing with Rivers. That was pretty… Yeah, anyway. You just had a bit of an attitude problem." And now for that idea that I had and that's stupid and goes against all good judgement and that I just can't out of my head, "We can work on that."

"We, sir?" Yeah, I thought she'd react like that.

Now that it's out in the open, though, it's too late for second thoughts. Just rip off the Band-Aid, why don't you. "I still have two open spots on my team. I'm willing to take you on, if you'll serve as my XO."

There. I said it. I made a really dangerous suggestion, considering how I thought I would be over her after a year of no contact and how that didn't work in the slightest. Having her on my team again would mean working closely with her, possibly even closer than at the SGC, considering that we'd also be living in the same place, in maybe ten minutes' distance from each other. And working and living so closely to each other just can't be a good idea. And yet I can't help wanting her on my team, if she decides against having her own.

She doesn't seem to think so. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir, but I really don't think I'm ready…"

No, that is not an argument I'm willing to accept. Or at least not like that. "You don't have to take that slot." I mean that, though. She can reject the invitation, and there won't be any repercussions. "I won't hold it against you. No hard feelings, etc., blahblahblah." However, she'll have to reject it wholesome. No XO, no team. "If you are on my team, though, you're there as my XO. I'm leaving that choice to you. Those are your options. Take it or leave it but it's not negotiable."

She takes her time, because that's who she is. She doesn't make decisions like that light-heartedly. She thinks them through, silent, by herself, without letting anyone pressure her for anything and then one day, she comes to you during a team get together and tells you that she's leaving for the great unknown, without knowing if or when she'll come back and you feel the rug pulled out from under your feet and then just a big bunch of nothingness.

"Okay."

What? "Okay?"

"Okay. I'll be your XO." That's… not what I expected her to say.

I'm… not sure what to say for a moment, just sit there and blink and then the only thing that comes out is a meagre, "Oh. Good."

There's a grin on her face, now. Mischievous, and I'm not sure if I have ever seen that before. I like it. Oh God, I like it. "Good," she says and grins a little more.

Oh God, I'm screwed. I'm so screwed. What did I just do? Why did I do that? And why do I actually go, "And uh… Tom's fine. When we're off-duty."

That makes her shake her head again and get serious very fast. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. "We're never off-duty when we're in Atlantis, sir."

That's a good way out of here for you. Just… "You know what I mean." Not like that.

"Yes, sir." Okay, she's being obstinate about this, I can live with… "Tom."

Okay. Or maybe she isn't. She doesn't sound entirely comfortable with it but this is the first time she actually called me by my first name and truth to be told, if I didn't have that stupid and complicated thing for her, I'd have offered her first name basis ages ago and I think I kinda like it when she doesn't call me sir? It's weirder than I thought it would be but not entirely… bad? I uh…

"Oh thank God." What the… Dee?

She turns around. "Took you long enough, Sergeant." Huh? What?

"You're one hard Marine to find, Maureen." I will never get used to my sergeant and my now XO calling each other by their first names, and hey, the fact that they've already been doing it back at the SGC makes it extra ridiculous that I offered her first name basis only now. "And thank God there hasn't been any bloodshed here."

In the half dark from the sparse corridor lights playing on her face turned towards the door and Dee, I can see raised eyebrows. "Bloodshed? Isn't that just a bit dramatic, Dee?"

"Yes, Dee. Isn't that just a bit dramatic?" Because honestly, it is. "I did tell you I'd handle this."

"Yeah," Dee says, "that's exactly what I was afraid of. Sir." Fucking hell.

And what's so funny about that, Kid? "Don't worry, Dee. He did fine." I did? "Well, mostly." Mostly? "I just agreed to be his new XO, so he must have done something right."

"His new XO? Are you sure that was a wise idea? I mean you could have had…"

"I'm sitting. Right here." That wasn't supposed to come through gritted teeth but what the fuck is this even about? What is so bad about being my XO? I mean, aside from the obvious.

She smiles. That rare little smile that only ever other people – namely, Dee – seem to get, never me because apparently, I don't rate high enough in her circle of acquaintances to deserve one. "We'll see how it turns out." Huh? That caveat wasn't part of the negotiations. What the… "Come on. Now that you're here, might as well get to enjoy the view, too."

Dee, being the smart guy he is, has probably realized the moment he stepped out here that this is here private sanctuary and that she only very rarely, maybe never, invites people to join her up here and being the polite guy he is also accepts her invitation with a grace I completely lacked and why is my sergeant more of a gentleman than I am and…

"Holy hell, Maureen I gotta tell you… Oh. You already got company." What the fucking hell?

Again, she turns around and I expect her to throw this interloper out. "It's fine, Mats. They usually don't bite." Or that. That works fine, too.

No, damn, it doesn't. I honestly thought I was done with this guy, unless I was dumb enough to land myself in the infirmary which of course I strive to avoid at any possible cost. I don't have any qualms telling him, "I fucking do. Get lost, Morsberg."

And that was a really stupid thing to do, as Dee's very quiet groan and Reece's not so quiet dirty look tell me. "Don't listen to him, Mats. You'll always be welcome here." Yeah, I kinda deserved that. It is "her" balcony, but honestly, this guy just…

"Nah, it's fine. Actually, it's a good thing he's here, too." Whatever he means by that, it can only be bad news. "Effective immediately, I'm your new team medic. Sir." Fucking called it. Bad new, indeed.

"Says who?" I all but growl and Reece definitely just rolled her eyes. Could she just not keep doing that, please?

"Says Major Lorne." The hell? "He also said, quote, if he has any issues with your assignment, he has to take them up with me and no one else, unquote." I hate Evan Lorne. He knew I'd complain about it and he knew I'd go all the way up to the top of the chain of command to get what I want and he just effectively killed that dead before I even got started. I hate, hate, hate it when he does that.

Also, why did Reece just jump up and squeal and goddamn hug the Hun? "Oh my God, you finally got your off-world team spot! You made it, Mats?"

"I know," I can hear him gush through her smothering hug and she'd never hug me like that and I know I'm being about as mature as a seven-year-old but I'm jealous, goddammit.

"We're even going to be on the same team!" She wasn't nearly as excited about this when I asked her about it. This isn't fair. And there's no reason for you to grin like that, Dee.

They high-five each other with both hands and okay, that's enough. "Hey, can the high school cheerleaders who just took over your bodies please get the fuck out of here again? It's honestly getting a little embarrassing watching two O-3s squealing like teenagers." Wow, and now I managed to sound like one of those "GET OFF MY LAWN!" types from back home, and I'm in my early thirties.

Still. I was right.

"Teenagers are some of the smartest people I know, sir." Ah, and we're done with the "Tom". I'm tempted to correct her, just to embarrass her in front of both Dee and apparently her new best friend, just out of spite, but a really dirty look from Dee keeps me from doing it. I do value all my bodily appendages intact, thank you very much. "Anyway, just come on, Mats. You guys need to learn to get along with each other without me, so might as well get a little head start."

"Excuse me, Captain? Get along without you?" What else hasn't she told me?

"Yeah," she says, sitting down in that spot next to me again, and I could have sworn that she just blushed. "I'm going back to Earth with the Command Team, tomorrow morning." And the hits just keep coming. "Sorry, sir. It was a last minute thing because apparently, someone back on Earth decided that they wanted to crucify Sheppard and apparently want to use as many of his people as they can get for that." That… doesn't sound pleasant. "And they decided that the officers he promoted at least needed to go before the board before any decision about the temporary promotions could be made." She shrugs again but I can see that she's not casual about this. She wants this promotion to stick, and until now I would have sworn up and down the promotions manual that she didn't have a speck of ambition in here. I guess I just looked in the wrong places for it.

In the end, it's Morsberg who breaks the silence following that. "So… when are you going to be back?"

She gives us a heavy sigh, and it's not entirely ironic. "Nine weeks, give or take."

"Nine fucking weeks?" What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Another sigh. "The Daedalus needs three weeks back to the Milky Way, now that she doesn't have a ZPM anymore, then another three weeks for decon, retrofitting and maintenance and then another three weeks to get back to Pegasus."

"I'm supposed to lead my team without my XO for nine damn weeks?" I can't believe the shit this galaxy keeps throwing at me.

She gives me another dead-pan look, and seems she has perfected those here. "I'm sure you'll get along just fine without me, sir."

There was an unmistakable edge to this that tells me to shut the hell up about this and put on my big boy pants and stop whining and the worst thing about it is that it's working. "Yeah. Just fine. We'll be just fine."

"See? That's what I thought." And just like that she managed to shut me up and kill this line of conversation and turn it into a completely new direction, something about how she loves to watch the city at night because of all the lights reflected in the ocean or some such nonsense and the moment I actually start listening to her waxing poetic about Atlantis, with little injections from Morsberg and Dee asking questions and I just start to enjoy listening to her and watching her again, I know that I'm screwed.

Really, really screwed.

And right now, I wouldn't even want to have it any other way. Oh, hell.