Author's Note: A HUGE thanks to TychoV for the beta on this one. Parts of this chapter came out so much better because of the input. :) For a brief recap: Jennifer and Ronon just finished working on their gingerbread house. Jennifer has received some insight from both Ronon and Teyla. As always, hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

As Ronon and Jennifer made their way to the mess hall for dinner, Sheppard beamed aboard the Daedalus to meet with Colonel Caldwell. He had dreaded this meeting for days. He and Caldwell didn't see eye to eye on many things, and he knew his sometimes unconventional solutions often angered the colonel. Not to mention the fact that Sheppard held the position Caldwell originally wanted.

Several of Daedalus's personnel glanced at Sheppard with curiosity as he strolled toward Caldwell's quarters, but none of them asked about the supplies he carried. The chef on Atlantis had an award-winning gingerbread recipe, and he'd graciously volunteered to bake the sheets of cookies the contest required. Sheppard already knew that Carter and Teyla had begun to decorate their house. Ronon and Keller also seemed rather excited about their creation. He couldn't be sure about Lorne and McKay. Lorne hadn't seemed thrilled to be paired with McKay, and the physicist certainly hadn't wanted to participate in any contest. Sheppard knew that Rodney would dive in with enthusiasm as soon as he realized it was a contest. According to McKay, everything was a contest.

Caldwell called for him to enter as soon as he arrived, and Sheppard stepped through the door. Surprisingly, a miniature Christmas tree stood next to the viewport, backed by one phenomenal New Lantean sunset. The rest of the quarters appeared just as bland and neat as he imagined a life-long Air Force officer's quarters should appear.

Caldwell pointed at his desk. "Just put that stuff right here."

Sheppard moved to obey, still remembering that Caldwell was a superior officer. "I'm not entirely sure what to do, but here it is."

"Well, first, we remember not to eat the candy." Caldwell shut the door, closing them into the small quarters. "Second, we get creative."

Sheppard squelched the urge to say, "Duh!" His problem stemmed from his lack of creativity unless it related to life-threatening situations or finding ways to annoy McKay. He stood as Caldwell began sorting the supplies the kitchen staff had provided. They had chocolate chips, candy canes, peppermint candies, gumdrops, jelly beans, M&Ms, food coloring, cake decorating equipment, and icing. Lots and lots of icing. Sheppard didn't want to know how many pounds of powdered sugar had gone into the copious amounts of the sticky icing that the kitchen turned out.

Caldwell stood over the sheets of gingerbread and eyed him. "So, did you know what you wanted to do?"

"Well, I. . . ." Sheppard motioned toward the gingerbread. "I just figured we'd put something together."

Caldwell grinned at him. "You have no idea, do you?"

Sheppard met the man's eyes. "No."

"Relax, Sheppard." Caldwell eyed him, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "We're just building a gingerbread house, not plotting out battle strategies."

"Hey, I've come up with a few of those over time, too."

"I know you have." Caldwell motioned him over. "Okay, let's start with getting an idea of what we want before we start cutting this stuff."

Sheppard shrugged. "A house," he offered.

Caldwell snorted. "Well, I knew that."

"Of course you did."

"Sheppard, we're going to be working closely on this for several days." Caldwell stared at him. "I know we haven't exactly seen eye-to-eye in the past, but we need to put together the best house we can if we hope to compete with McKay."

"Yeah, that thought crossed my mind, too, Sir."

"For the time being, make it 'Steven.' Please." Even while trying to make him feel a little more at ease, Caldwell managed to sound put out.

"Alright, Steven," Sheppard said, emphasizing his use of a superior officer's first name. "I'm 'John.'"

"Right." Caldwell nodded at him. "Now, here's what we're going to do."

Over the next few minutes, Caldwell outlined a plan to build a gingerbread house that sounded amazingly simple and yet seemed incredible to Sheppard's mind. With instructions firmly in place, Sheppard washed his hands and set about cutting the precise lines that Caldwell drew with a white chalk pencil onto the dark gingerbread. The resulting pieces looked vaguely like they'd go together to build a slouchy, quaint cottage, but he couldn't be sure.

Once the pieces had been cut, Caldwell gave him instructions on assembling the thing. Not like the colonel had been sitting idly. He'd been sorting the candy and food coloring, as well as making the round base for the house.

Sheppard grabbed the bowl of icing Caldwell handed to him and smeared a bunch of it onto one edge of the house. When he stuck the two pieces together like instructed, they fell apart.

Caldwell glanced up and saw what happened. "No, not like that." He took the pieces of gingerbread from Sheppard and wiped most of the icing off of the gingerbread. Then, he took one finger and ran a thin coating of the icing along the edge. As he held the pieces together, he started talking. "Gingerbread isn't the sweetest cookie in the universe, but it's incredibly sturdy. As is icing. When you put the two together, you only put a small amount of the icing at the joints. That sweetness helps the gingerbread taste better, as well. When you overdo the icing, it just falls apart. After you put the icing on the gingerbread, you have to wait for the icing to set before moving on to the next piece."

Sheppard reached for two other pieces of gingerbread and smoothed some icing onto it. "You really like this stuff, don't you, Sir?"

"Sheppard, I told you to call me 'Steven.' Don't make me make it an order." Caldwell glanced up at him. "But, yes. I like this stuff. I remember building gingerbread houses with my kids for local contests when they were young."

"Oh yeah? Did you win any?"

"One." Caldwell grinned at him. "We took first place with thatch-roofed Tudor looking house complete with a Christmas tree in the front window."

"Really?" Sheppard let out a deep breath when his two pieces of gingerbread stayed glued together. "Wow."

"Though I must admit I never dreamed I'd be in another galaxy building a gingerbread house for a contest." Caldwell shook his head. "That just never crossed my mind when I built that with my son."

Sheppard shook his head as he glued another two walls to each other. He'd never once imagined that Caldwell would have a soft spot for the holidays. It struck him as funny, and he actually chuckled.

Caldwell looked up sharply. "What?"

"Nothing." Sheppard made sure to let his grin show before adding, "Sir."

oOo

"I thought you were building a gingerbread house." Sheppard's voice in the office door pulled Lorne out of his concentrated efforts to clear his desk of paperwork.

He straightened and leaned back in his chair. "McKay is building it. I'm decorating it."

Sheppard grinned. "I knew Rodney would get his head out of his butt sooner or later."

"Yes, Sir."

"Lorne." Sheppard held up a hand before dropping it. "Never mind."

"Something on your mind, Sir?"

"No." Sheppard shrugged. "I was going to tell you to drop the 'Sir,' then I remembered how hard it was to do that when Caldwell told me the same thing."

Evan couldn't keep the smirk from crossing his face. He'd been told numerous times to address his CO as "John." Now his CO understood how difficult that really was.

Sheppard glanced over the desk. "Whatcha doing?"

"Your paperwork, Sir."

"Isn't that why you're here?"

Evan let out a snort. "Actually, I thought I was here to rescue you when you got into trouble."

Sheppard considered him for a moment. "That, too."

Evan returned to the requisition form in front of him as Sheppard settled into one of the chairs crammed into the tiny office. He'd learned long ago that Sheppard talked in his own time. He never rushed the guy, and his CO usually came up with something brilliant. And, sometimes, something not so brilliant.

"So," Sheppard began, "you and McKay are working separately on this project?"

"Actually, we're. . .ah. . .maximizing our strengths and minimizing our weaknesses."

"That's a diplomatic answer."

"Yeah?" Evan shook his head. "Well, I could have used some of that diplomacy on that last mission."

"Whatever was the problem, anyway?"

"Greed. That and poor bookkeeping made for a potentially explosive situation." Evan finally pushed his laptop to the side. "I tell you, Sir, I'd rather listen to McKay and Zelenka bicker than do that again."

"I'll remember that next time they want me to initialize some Ancient tech."

Evan stared at him. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not sure that's such a great idea. I can only keep from tearing their heads off for so long."

"You're the most controlled man on this base." Sheppard shrugged. "If I can put up with them, you can."

Evan gave his CO an exasperated look and reached for his computer. "We'll see when I get done with this house. McKay's already going into great detail of what we can and can't do. And how we'll win. And how I need to spy on the others. And. . .you get the idea, Sir."

"I knew Rodney would wake up and realize it was a contest sooner or later."

"Well, it happened sooner." Evan sat back in his chair, realizing he wouldn't get any more work done that evening. "What about you, Sir? How did you find working with Colonel Caldwell?"

"Let's just say Caldwell is more. . . ." Sheppard searched for the appropriate word. ". . .agreeable than we thought."

"That's surprising."

"Even won a gingerbread contest a few years back."

Evan rubbed a hand over his face. "Don't let McKay hear you say that."

"So, who were you hoping to get for a partner?"

"Honestly, Sir, I didn't care one way or the other." Evan hoped Sheppard didn't see through the blatant lie.

"Okay, let me rephrase the question." Sheppard stared. "Who would have been your first choice?"

"Ah. . ."

"It's not that difficult of a question, Major."

Evan acknowledged that with a nod. "Actually, I would have enjoyed working with Dr. Keller."

"Really? The Doc?" Sheppard thought about that and then shrugged. "She is a surgeon. She'd have some steady hands and an eye for detail."

All at once, the thoughts Evan had been avoiding came rushing back. He saw her face when he'd decorated the birthday cake and grinned when he remembered steadying her some time later after helping her to her feet. Part of him wished he hadn't set those ground rules, but the other part of him breathed a sigh of relief that he had placed restrictions on the two of them. As much as he'd enjoyed their encounter, he wanted to treat Jennifer right. Not like a piece of property. Or worse.

"Is there something between you and the Doc that I need to know about?" Sheppard had read his expressions.

"No." Evan shook his head, hoping his CO didn't push the issue.

"Look, Major, she's a civilian. No one would blame you if the two of you started seeing each other."

Evan simply stared at him, deliberately dropping a bland mask over his face. He wanted to spend more time with Jennifer, but he also didn't want Sheppard knowing every little thing about his personal life. "We've. . .ah. . .had a couple of dates. One, really. But nothing more." Liar, he thought. But he refused to discuss what happened in the kitchen with Sheppard, of all people.

"So you are. . . .?" Sheppard motioned with his hand, either indicating that Evan and the doc were intimate or merely involved.

Evan chose to believe the latter. "Sort of."

"That good or bad, Major?"

"I'm not sure, Sir." Evan shook his head. "Things got off to a rough start a few days ago, and I really don't want to mess this up."

"You know, Caldwell said something earlier today that kind of applies to that." Sheppard frowned as if he worked through some incredibly difficult puzzle in his mind. "He said that gingerbread isn't a sweet cookie, and you don't put a lot of icing on it to hold it together. Something like that."

"And what does that mean?"

"The gingerbread is the solid base that the house or in this case the relationship is built on." Sheppard scowled as he thought through the entire analogy. "The icing is like those intense moments all relationships have— good and bad. Too much and the walls come down. Just enough and the house is stronger."

Evan blinked. "Sir, that's pretty profound."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" Sheppard grinned. Then, he pushed to his feet. "Don't work too late. You're supposed to be taking it easy this week."

"Yes, Sir." Evan watched his CO leave the office, still chewing on that last tidbit of wisdom. What had happened in the kitchen certainly qualified as intense. But if this was to work, they would need more gingerbread times: friendship, companionship and genuinely understanding each other.

Tired of sitting in his chair, Evan left his office and went for a run. For most of the night, he forced his mind away from Jennifer and onto this gingerbread house. His sister had opened a bakery in San Francisco several years ago. She'd taught him to decorate cakes much like he'd done for Teyla's birthday. Now, he considered his options and wondered just how McKay wanted this gingerbread house decorated.

The next afternoon, McKay delivered one amazingly constructed two-story house with orangy paper in the windows to simulate lights from within. Evan shook his head as McKay unceremoniously dropped the bin containing the candy and icing on the coffee table and ran from the room. Taking the house to his desk, Evan opened the plastic bin, organized the supplies, and reached for the icing. His eyes narrowed as he considered the house and what he wanted to do with it. Snow. Definitely snow. And lights around the eaves. Perhaps he'd even paint a Christmas tree on the orange paper glowing from the large downstairs window. Grinning at the challenge, he reached for the bowl of icing and froze.

He and Jennifer had discovered something over icing. Letting his mind linger on those moments in the kitchen, he thought that he ought to find a reason to kiss her that didn't include icing. Or food. Or any excuse but that she was one amazing person. Who would have thought that such passion resided under that timid exterior she presented to the world? When she'd. . . . He closed his eyes as he realized the direction of his thoughts.

The hot, passionate moments that bind the companionship and respect together. Sheppard's words came to mind, and he realized that he couldn't help but respect Jennifer. Yes, she was hot. Yes, what they'd done was hot. Yes, he wanted to do that again. But he also needed to get to know her for who she was, not treat her like some object to satisfy his own needs and desires.

"Yeah? And what kind of woman would that be?" he asked himself as he began working on the more mundane portion of decorating the gingerbread house.

Put simply, Jennifer was amazing. And not just physically. She served day in and day out in that infirmary. Treating the sick and injured. Doing surgery even when she was so exhausted she couldn't see straight. Dealing with McKay and all of his hypochondriac ways. Doing medicals after teams came back from missions. Stitching up Marines after Ronon sent them to her. Smiling at children she didn't know as she offered lollipops. Soothing frazzled nerves with her calm voice. As he compiled a list of her abilities and duties, his respect for her grew. She wasn't just another pretty face in Atlantis. She did a lot!

That just made her more attractive to him. Not in a sexual way, though. He doubted any woman could be more attractive than Jennifer in a sexual way. No, this attraction came from having seen a glimpse of the woman that resided underneath the young CMO. It started somewhere deep within him and kept him spellbound at the thought of seeing her again.

Yes, companionship and respect may be the walls that built the house. But, without a doubt, love was the foundation. All at once, he thought he might actually allow himself to fall in love with Dr. Jennifer Keller.

~TBC