Road Trip

By stella_pegasi

Part Five: The Wild Wild West…Day Three - Four

Day Three

Violent storms raged throughout the night, and the morning dawned gray and overcast, rain continuing to pelt the windows. Sheppard crawled out of bed around 0620 hours, his left shoulder and arm, along with his lower back, aching from the fall. Heading for the bathroom, he wondered how Beckett would react if he actually asked for pain medication. Chuckling, he suspected Beckett would probably faint, or 'manly pass out' as McKay would say.

After a long hot shower to chase away the soreness, Sheppard dressed, grabbed his laptop, and sat on the bed; time to find a top-rated hotel in Tucson. He decided that his friends had been through so much that it was time to stay in a luxurious hotel. A hotel where their every desire would be taken care of, they deserved nothing less; besides, he was being selfish, he wanted a huge soaking tub and room service.

After debating on a couple of hotels, Sheppard decided and booked the rooms online. It was nearly 0700 hours when he wandered to the second-floor lobby to grab a cup of coffee. As he took the first sip of the steaming beverage, his cell phone rang; it was McKay.

"Sheppard, you awake?"

"Rodney, I answered the phone, yes…I'm awake."

"We're in the restaurant."

"That's nice."

"Huh…look Carson said to join us for breakfast if you felt like it. Wha…" McKay's voice broke off, replaced by Beckett's brogue.

"John, you okay this morning?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sheppard's comment was met with silence; he sighed, "Okay, not gonna lie, pretty sore."

"Not surprised; that was a nasty fall. You up for breakfast, laddie?"

"Be right there, I was just getting coffee in the upstairs lobby."

Gingerly descending the staircase, Sheppard grimaced with each step as an intense burning sensation flared in his lower back, wrenched in the fall. He took solace as the image of the Tucson hotel's spa floated through his thoughts, there was a massage in his future.

Despite the early hour, the El Tovar dining room was crowded; no doubt, the guests were staying indoors due to the rainy weather. It took Sheppard a moment before he spotted Rodney, nose in his laptop, while Beckett and Ronon were engrossed in conversation. As he walked up to the table, Beckett looked his way after Ronon prodded the doctor.

"Well, you might try to deny how much you're hurting, but you're not fooling me. Sit down," Beckett reached in his pocket and pulled out a vial, "I swear I'm going to need more pain meds; here take these and no argument."

Sheppard sat down and took the pills without complaint, Beckett watching him with a mildly shocked look on his face. He realized Beckett was well aware of how much pain he was in, and was thankful the good doctor didn't pursue the subject.

After the server brought more coffee and took their orders, Sheppard asked, "You guys okay with leaving here today?" When everyone nodded, he continued, "I promised Ronon that we would go to the O.K. Corral, since he's interested in Wyatt Earp. I also think we deserved a little luxury, so I've booked four rooms at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel on Dove Mountain, a few miles from Tucson. There are pools, a spa, horseback riding, golf, restaurants among other amenities, and we can use the hotel as a hub for side trips. Sound okay to you?"

A wistful smile crossed Beckett's face, "Me mum took us to London on holiday after our dad died. She arranged for us to have high tea at the Ritz; I acted as though I thought it was silly but my sisters loved it. I have to admit secretly I did too. Wonder if they serve high tea at this Ritz?"

Sheppard offered a slight smile, "Not sure, maybe they do, but we'll find out later today. So it's settled, we head out after breakfast; it's about a five-hour drive to the hotel."

After breakfast, they packed up and McKay drove the Rover to the front of the hotel, where Sheppard waited with the luggage. As McKay exited the SUV, he uttered a low moan, which caught Sheppard's attention.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing...," McKay replied quickly.

"Rodney?"

Beckett was coming down the steps, "He begged me not to tell, but he fell off his bike."

"You fell off your bike?"

"No…flyboy, I didn't fall off my bike; some kid lost control and swerved into my path, and I had to avoid hitting him, so I wrecked the bike."

"You were groaning when you got out of the car, how badly are you hurt?"

Beckett answered, "He did a tumble over the handlebars but fortunately landed on grass; he's a bit scrapped up, and I suspect little sore, but he's okay."

"Speak for yourself, Carson; I'm more than a little sore."

Sheppard held out his hand, "Give me the keys, McKay; you're not driving."

As McKay handed the keys to Sheppard, Beckett reached for them, "No problem, John, I'll drive; you had pain meds and shouldn't. Rodney's on a lower dose than you, but he probably shouldn't drive either."

"No, you're not driving." Before Beckett could complain, Sheppard turned to Ronon, who had just arrived, and tossed him the car keys, "Here Chewie, here's your chance; you're driving."

Beckett and McKay appeared stunned, but Ronon grinned ear to ear, grabbing the keys from mid-air. As Ronon started loading their luggage into the Rover, Sheppard walked over to him, "Now listen, no speeding and if the weather gets really bad, Beckett drives; understand." Ronon grunted, and Sheppard decided that was a close to a yes as he was going to get.

Turning to McKay, Sheppard pointed to the rear door, "Get in the back with me." To Beckett, "Carson, you created this monster; you get to ride shotgun and keep an eye on him." With that, Sheppard got into the rear seat on the driver's side and closed the door. Everyone else piled in the Rover and Ronon Dex drove away.

~ooOoo~

About a half-hour after they left the El Tovar, Rodney poked Beckett in the shoulder,

"Carson, are you drugging him?"

Looking over his shoulder, Beckett frowned and spoke softly, "We've been through this before. John is still recuperating from the gunshot wound, on top of all these other injuries he keeps acquiring. Sleep is by far the best thing for him laddie, so be quiet, play with your computer, and stop worrying about John's sleeping."

"I think he sleeps too much."

Beckett sighed, "We are used to seeing John in his role as our protector; I used to wonder if the man ever slept. I was hoping this trip would give him the rest he needed. But no, the colonel still has to be everyone's protector; he needs rest to recuperate, so let him."

Ronon was slumped in his seat, concentrating on driving, but listening intently. He glanced at Beckett, "Sheppard's never going to stop protecting everyone; he is who he is. We need to keep him safe."

Looking over at his sleeping friend, McKay muttered, "Good luck with that."

The heavy rains of early morning had given way to a steady drizzle, low gray clouds hanging over the roadway. Sheppard continued to sleep; Rodney was pecking away at his laptop, and Carson had been staring out the window, or quietly conversing with Ronon regarding the scenery.

Noticing a sign for Flagstaff, Beckett told Ronon, "Big guy, we're coming up on a city and according to the GPS, we need to get on the Interstate. I think it'd be better if you let me drive until we get on the other side of Flagstaff. These interstates can be tricky."

McKay scoffed, "What makes you think that you can drive better than Ronon can on the interstate?"

Beckett turned around, peering over the seat, "Because I've driven in London, if you can survive London traffic, you can survive anything."

"Oh, so traffic in England is worse than here?"

"Worse than Canada, that's a given, Rodney."

McKay sputtered, "Carson…you…"

"Shhhh…McKay, be quiet; Carson's right, he should drive."

"Oh, flyboy, now you wake up."

Sheppard grimaced, "Can't help it with you around; Ronon, let Carson drive until we're on the interstate, then you can drive again. Find a place to pull over."

Ronon pulled into a deserted restaurant parking lot where he and Carson changed seats. Heavier rain began to fall, and for the first time since they had left San Francisco, there was a nip of fall in the air.

Sheppard shifted in his seat, stifling a moan, "Carson, before you get through town find a Starbucks, I could use a cup of coffee."

Beckett peered at Sheppard through the rearview mirror, "Could use a cup myself." The doctor held Sheppard's gaze for a second, "You doing okay?"

Sheppard dropped his head against the seat, "If I had a dollar for every time you've asked me, I could retire from the Air Force."

Beckett frowned, "If you keep this up, retiring from the Air Force won't be an option."

Scrunching his face in a smirk, Sheppard replied, "Never thought it would be, doc; never thought I'd survive."

Shuddering, Beckett sighed, "I swear John, maybe it's the gene that gives you more than nine-lives to play with, but I tell you, laddie, you're tempting fate."

"Carson, drive…find a Starbucks; leave the psychoanalyzing to Dr. Warren."

Scoffing, Beckett retorted, "Poor Ross…he's certainly tried to have a few chats with you since he arrived on Atlantis."

McKay interjected, "I like him."

Sheppard snarked, "You would like him, McKay; you certainly spend a lot of time with him."

McKay didn't reply and Sheppard glanced over at the scientist, to see a pained look on his face. Crap, Sheppard thought, he said the wrong thing. "Rodney, sorry…I…"

McKay shrugged, "Things have been…I don't know…unsettling…lots of things…" He turned toward the window, "Nothing's the same since we left Pegasus."

Sheppard leaned against the Rover's leather seat, his voice in a near whisper, "Yeah…I know."

For the next few miles, the friends didn't speak, all seemingly lost in their own thoughts. As they neared Flagstaff, the GPS directed them around downtown Flagstaff and toward US 40, which would lead them to the interstate.

Beckett told Ronon, "GPS shows a Starbucks nearby, keep an eye out."

They almost missed Starbucks' non-descript tan stucco, wood and stone building nestled between a restaurant parking lot and an old 1950's style motel. At the last minute, Ronon spotted the coffee house, and Beckett made a sharp right turn into the driveway.

"Watch it, Carson…" McKay shrieked as his laptop slid off his knees, "what the hell are you doing?"

"I was turning into the parking lot." Beckett snapped.

"Okay, boys, no bickering," Sheppard said, picking up the laptop from the floorboard near his feet. As he started to hand the computer back to McKay, he noticed the screen showed a schematic of Atlantis, "Rodney, what's this?"

Snatching the laptop from Sheppard's hands, McKay sheepishly replied, "Nothing…just something...nothing." He quickly closed the lid, preventing Sheppard from getting a better view.

Chuckling to himself, Sheppard knew Rodney was up to something, and he was going to find out what. For now, however, he was dying for coffee. He opened the door to find Carson already waiting for him.

"Back's hurting, right?" Beckett was staring at him, his eyebrows raised in question.

Sheppard decided there was no sense in lying…much, "A bit."

"Turn around, let me feel your back."

"Carson, it's raining, and I'm not turning around for you to exam me in the parking lot."

"Don't get cheeky with me, colonel, this is just a light drizzle; turn around."

Sheppard glared at the doctor, then uttered a sharp sigh and turned around hiding behind the Rover's door, "Make it quick."

Beckett slid his right hand under the blue plaid shirt and white t-shirt Sheppard wore and along the colonel's lower back. "Ah…yes….you're having muscle spasms; I'll get you a muscle relaxant. Hang on."

"I don't want to get groggy again; I'm tired of sleeping."

Carson replied as he retrieved his medical bag from the rear compartment, "Sleep's the best thing for you, laddie, especially while we're traveling." Snickering, he added, "Besides you don't have to listen to Rodney like the rest of us."

"Well…there is that."

McKay and Ronon had gone into the coffee shop and grabbed a table; it was around 11 am, and the nearly half the tables were occupied. As Sheppard and Beckett walked in, McKay was placing an order for himself and Ronon.

"McKay, you getting Ronon that caramel latte thing I got him before?"

"Yes…I am; he said he wanted two of them."

"Get him one now and we'll get one to go."

"John, what do you want, and I'll get it…you go sit down," Carson said.

"Just a grande black coffee," he peered into the food case, "and one of those cinnamon chip scones."

Sheppard joined Ronon, who was sitting on a sofa in the corner near the front window. As he approached, Ronon grinned, "Nice view."

Looking out the window at the rain covered city street, Sheppard was puzzled, "Not the best view I've ever seen."

Ronon's grin broadened as he pointed toward the occupied tables, predominantly filled young college-aged women and men. "That's the view I'm talking about; especially that table."

Three lovely young women, clad in jeans and t-shirts, all pouring over their laptops had definitely caught Ronon's attention.

Sheppard eased down onto the couch, "Down, big guy; those girls are more than half our ages."

Ronon snarked, "Half your age."

Laughing and sighing at once, Sheppard nodded, "Touché… you're right." He watched the young women for a moment, "Ah…to be young and in college."

"There's a school near here?"

"Yeah, saw a sign back up the road, Northern Arizona University's here; suspect most of the people in here are students." Sheppard smiled at Ronon, "It's always nice to be around a college campus; certain obvious perks."

"Yeah…nice." Glancing out the side window, "What's this Auto Lodge?"

Chuckling, Sheppard followed Ronon's gaze toward the old white motel next door, "It's a motel, and I suspect, since this is a college town, one that rents by the hour."

Ronon was nodding as Beckett and McKay arrived with the coffee and food. McKay asked, "What's he looking so smug about?"

Sheppard snickered, "Ronon's just contemplating attending college."

Beckett handed Sheppard his coffee, and then a small white pill he removed from a vial. "Take this."

Frowning, the colonel, "Won't make me sleepy?"

Beckett smiled impishly, "Of course not, now take it."

The four friends spent the next thirty minutes enjoying their coffee and the pile of pastries McKay bought. Sheppard told them about the amenities at the hotel and about some of the attractions in the area.

"We are going to the Wyatt Earp place, right?" Ronon, eating his second piece of coffee cake, asked, mumbling his words.

Sheppard nodded, "That's the reason we came this way; lucky for us there's some other cool stuff to do as well." You guys about ready to leave?" Sheppard grabbed his cup, and stood, expecting to feel pain, "Hey, doc, not so bad, and not even drowsy. I'm going to the head, then get a refill." He headed for the rear of the shop.

McKay looked at Beckett, "Pill hasn't taken effect completely, has it?"

Beckett shook his head no, and got up, "Better keep an eye on him."

Everyone got a refill and as they walked to the Ranger Rover, Beckett told Ronon, "Monroe Street becomes I-17; Ronon, you might as well drive," and tossed him the keys.

They were barely on the interstate before Sheppard fell asleep.

~ooOoo~

Sheppard awoke to find the Rover stopped and no one inside. As he struggled to orient himself, he heard McKay's muffled voice griping about something. Slumping in the seat while he slept, he pushed upright, thankful to find his back wasn't hurting as badly as earlier in the day. He concluded Beckett might be right about sleeping, but he was loath to admit it. A quick glance at his watch revealed he been napping a bit over two hours. As he started to get out of the Rover, a door opened; it was McKay.

"Oh…you're awake."

"Rodney, your keen perception never ceases to amaze me."

"Bite me, Sheppard."

"Where are we?"

"North of Phoenix, Carson wanted to change drivers and get fuel. Now, I gotta go pay for Ronon's Mountain Dew; he spent all his money at the Hopi House."

"I'll go with you, need to make a pit stop."

Ten minutes later, they were back on the road, and driving through the heart of Phoenix. Sheppard was taking a drink of his coffee he'd warmed up in the convenient store's microwave when McKay asked, "Can we stop for lunch sometime soon? It's almost 1300 hours; I'm hungry."

Sheppard started to speak and McKay huffed, "Don't start; it's been a long time since breakfast, and I only ate one blueberry scone when we stopped for coffee, so…"

"Hush, I was going to say I was hungry, too. Carson, find us a McDonald's, we'll grab some burgers and keep going."

Carson chuckled, "Aye, colonel, understood."

"Who's being cheeky now doctor?"

Shortly before they merged onto I-10, Ronon spotted a McDonald's listed on a highway information sign and Carson took them onto West Thomas Road. A quick pass through the drive-thru, a change of drivers, and they were back on the road.

As they traveled down I-10, leaving Phoenix behind them, Ronon took the last bite of his second Angus burger, then mumbled, "Sheppard, is all of Earth this dull color?"

"We've been in the desert for most of the trip, so yes in this part of the world this is what Earth looks like. It's not all like this, lots of forest, jungles, rolling hills…mountains….not all like this."

"I'd like to see those places," Ronon announced.

Sheppard replied, "Can't see it all this trip, but I promise, some day."

Sheppard looked out at the same beige-gray sand, scrub brush, and wide expanse of sky they had seen almost since they left San Francisco. He found himself longing for green grass and large leafy trees like those at his boyhood home in Maryland. The pull for home was strong, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he should make a trip to Maryland while he was on Earth. While he was on Earth…he moaned silently…who was he kidding, what he really missed was a crystal blue ocean, craggy shoreline, and heavily forested undeveloped land on New Atlantia. He wanted to go home, and home was the Pegasus galaxy.

A punch to his arm roused him from his thoughts, "Ouch, Rodney….what?"

"You gonna eat the rest of your fries?"

"Carson, have you tested this man for a tapeworm, he eats like a pig."

"Aye, laddie, that he does, but he's healthy…no pig DNA that I can find," Beckett snickered.

"Oh, you are both such comedians," Rodney carped.

"Here, I'm done; eat the rest of the fries," Sheppard pushed the red cardboard container toward McKay, "enjoy."

McKay shoved a couple of fries into his mouth and continued to pound away at his keyboard. He had turned so that his back was against the corner of the seat and car door, and the screen back of his laptop was facing Sheppard.

Still wondering what the schematic of Atlantis was doing on McKay's screen, Sheppard asked, "What are you working on so intently?"

McKay's head popped up, "Me…nothing… nothing," he stammered, "I-I'm just tidying up some reports."

"What were you doing with the Atlantis diagram this morning?"

"Uh… nothing…that's my screen saver."

"Rodney…"

"Well, it is."

Knowing McKay was up to something, and getting him to admit to it was going to be difficult, Sheppard knew he was going to have to wait for the opportune moment to trick Rodney into telling him. He decided to drop the subject.

"You talk to Radek this morning?"

McKay was staring at his screen again, and absently answered, "Yes, he said the goons from Area 51 were scurrying like cockroaches all over the place."

"It'll be over soon, Rodney."

"McKay sighed, "Not soon enough." He paused, hit a couple of keys, then looked up, "He did say something puzzling though; said one of Dr. Lee's techs was reviewing a section of the database that we never had time to get to and found several entries regarding planets in the Milky Way galaxy."

"That's really not surprising; Atlantis was on Earth for a very long time, stands to reason they would have explored the Milky Way."

"Yeah, I know but Radek said some of the entries didn't make sense. He put Dr. Shaden on the translation; she probably reads Ancient better than anyone does. Said he'd keep me informed."

"You keep me informed, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…not a problem…" McKay returned to concentrate on his laptop and Sheppard decided to leave him to his secrets, at least, for the moment.

"Chewie, I programmed the hotel address into the GPS when we stopped at that service station. I think you take exit 240, turn left onto Tangerine Road, then left onto Dove Mountain Road. You doing okay driving this much?"

"I'm fine, Sheppard; go back to sleep."

"Think I'm slept out for now."

While McKay continued to work, Beckett and Ronon questioned Sheppard about the area they were traveling to and about Tombstone. The next hour passed quickly; the GPS informing them when it was time to turn off the interstate.

Once on Tangerine Road, they passed some commercial property, and soon all that accompanied them was scrub brush, utility poles, and an occasional car, along with endless blue sky.

The GPS signaled they were approaching the turn onto the Dove Mountain Road, and Beckett, spotting the traffic light, warned Ronon to slow down. Ronon threw a quick glare toward Beckett, grunting, "I got this doc," which elicited a guffaw from Sheppard.

"Leave him alone, doc, he's doing fine; drives better than Rodney."

"Wha…," Rodney looked up, "Are we there yet?"

Sheppard replied, "Not yet…keep playing with your laptop and be quiet." Rodney frowned but didn't reply.

Turning left they passed a shopping area, and the road began to rise toward the ridge, in the distance. A divider landscaped with desert plants and magnificent tall cacti, split the four-lane road, which took them passed several residential developments.

"John, do you know what kind of cactus that is?"

"It's called a saguaro, and they only grow in the Sonoran dessert, which covers part of Arizona into Mexico. They live a really long time, those with arms are probably over one hundred years old. "

McKay had closed his laptop, "You are just a walking Wikipedia, aren't you."

Sheppard sneered at Rodney, but spoke to Ronon, "Hey, Chewie… you wanted green grass, look to your left, lots of green, part of the golf course."

"Golf, like hitting the balls from the deck on Atlantis?"

"Little more complicated than that, but we'll go to the driving range and let you have a run at the real game."

A few moments later, they turned onto the property of the Ritz-Carlton Dove Mountain Resort. Sheppard directed Ronon to pull up to the lobby entrance and exited the car. He waited until Ronon got out.

"Good job, big guy; unlike Rodney you don't drive like my Uncle Francis."

Ronon grinned and slapped Sheppard on the back of the shoulder; Sheppard hid the grimace of pain caused by the blow. Ronon handed the keys to the valet and waited for the bellmen to unload the Rover, while Sheppard stood back and watched. He supposed he could describe his feeling as pride as he considered how quickly Ronon had assimilated into Earth customs. He realized that the majority of people who met him underestimated Ronon; his overpowering physique and nearly mute demeanor led to the belief that he was all brawn and no brains. The big man was nothing like that; Ronon was cunning, thoughtful, intelligent, and formidable. He pitied anyone who underestimated his friend.

Leaving the luggage under Ronon's watchful eye, Sheppard followed by Beckett and Rodney entered the lush expansive lobby of the Ritz. Dark mesquite wood, stone pillars, contemporary furniture in shades of tan, soft orange, and blue dotted the lobby; at the far end of the room, a huge window revealed the Tortolita Mountains in the distance.

As they headed toward the Front Desk, Carson remarked, "Colonel, you have done it again; managed to select a beautiful place for us to stay."

"After everything we've been through, I thought an isolated and luxurious hotel was what we needed."

After checking in, Sheppard spoke to the concierge to arrange reservations for dinner and they followed the bellmen to their rooms. Sheppard tipped his bellman, was closing the door when Beckett appeared, medical bag in hand.

"How's that back?"

Sheppard shrugged, "Better."

"I'll be the judge of that, get that shirt off, and lay down on your stomach, so I can see for myself."

Sighing, Sheppard complied and stretched out across the bed, without saying another word. Beckett gently probed the muscles of Sheppard's lower back, then told him to turn over.

"I swear, John you're a giant bruise." He examined the three-day old cut on Sheppard's arm, the nearly healed gunshot wound, and the bruising and swelling around his shoulder from the strain that he received in the fall. He didn't bother with the yellowing bruises from the incidents on Lake Mead or the RV wreck.

"Your muscles seem much more relaxed, but you should take another pill," he reached in his bag.

Sheppard sat up, "No, no more pills; I'll take Advil. I want to have a nice hot bath, a nap, a good dinner and a scotch...followed by a good night's sleep. If my back is hurting in the morning, I'll take a pill, okay?"

Beckett shook his head, pulling out a white pill bottle, "You are a stubborn bugger. Alright, I'll agree to that but only if you take the Advil right now." He counted out three and handed them to Sheppard, then opened one of the complementary bottled waters left in the room. "Here…"

Sheppard took the pills and swallowed them with a swig of water. "Okay, doc…done, now go do whatever you want to do until we meet for dinner at eight."

"I know when I've been kicked out." Beckett picked up his bag, "You get some rest."

Sheppard lay across the bed for several minutes after Beckett left, allowing the calming Zen-like atmosphere of the room sink into his bones. Eventually, he convinced himself to get off the king-size bed; stripping off his shoes and jeans, he entered the bathroom. The huge soaking tub was the most appealing site he had seen in a very long time. He turned on the faucets, setting the water as hot as he felt he could stand; as he headed for the bedroom to retrieve his toiletry kit from his suitcase, he spotted a tiny bottle of shampoo on the counter. On a whim, he dumped the contents into the tub; if a bubble bath was good enough for Rodney, it was good enough for him.

When the tub was full and overflowing with bubbles, he dimmed the lights and flicked on the tiny battery candles sitting on the edge of the tub. He grabbed the remote and turned on the small flat-screen TV mounted on the bathroom wall, settling on a cable news channel with the volume low, and sank into the steamy water. Nirvana came to mind as the hot water soaked into his muscles, and the bubbles surrounded him like a cocoon.

Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to go blank, the newscaster's words floating in and out of his consciousness. The fragrant shampoo he'd thrown in the water reminded him of flowers from his aunt Adelise's garden. Thinking back to the summer he spent in Louisiana between his high-school graduation and entry into the Air Force Academy, he sighed. He remembered sitting on her brick paved patio late into the night, lighting bugs and soft glowing light from a fire pit the only illumination in the dark, the aroma of jasmine and other fragrant flowers perfumed the air. It was a magical summer, staying with his grandfather Anton Allain, and his mother's family. Family he barely knew until then.

Patrick Sheppard was livid when he learned his youngest son had applied and been accepted by the Air Force Academy without his powerful father's assistance. Sheppard was aware even then that his father would oppose him, so he went to an uncle, a US Congressman, for help. When Adelise and some of his mother's family came to his prep school graduation, he defied his father's wishes and went home with them for the summer, leaving for the Academy from there. He worked the fishing boats, getting to know his aunt, uncle, and cousins he had never met, and his grandfather.

He spent hours talking with his grandfather; committing every treasured word his grandfather uttered to memory. Anton Allain was a laid-back spinner of tales, and was smarter than most men John had ever met. They had laughed and worked hard on the boats, standing side-by-side on the deck as Anton taught him to maneuver the nets. Lazy Sunday afternoons found them canoeing through the bayou, and some nights when Adelise and the others had gone to bed Anton shared a bit of his bottle of scotch. They spoke little about his mother; the pain of her loss was still too great for both.

Sheppard sank deep into the steamy water, soaking his head, and reached for his shampoo, squirting a dollop on his head. Dunking under the water, he rinsed the shampoo out and relaxed again, his mind drifting once more. Eventually, the water cooled enough that he decided it was time to leave the sanctuary of the marble enclosed tub. He turned the water on in the large separate shower, and quickly rinsed his hair and body, then stepped out onto the fluffy rug and dried off. Flipping off the TV, he walked into the bedroom and felt chilled in the air conditioning. He remembered reading online that the room came with bathrobes; opening the closet, he found a thick white terry-cloth robe and slipped it on. He flopped down on the bed, called a wake-up call for a half-hour before dinner, and fell asleep.

~ooOoo~

The beeping phone roused Sheppard from a dream; he picked up the receiver dropping it back down onto the cradle with a thud. Rolling over on his back, he lingered, comfortable in the warm bed, as images from the dream flashed in his mind. He was riding a Ferris wheel, surrounded by nubile young college girls, who one by one morphed into Wraith queens. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, muttering, "Ronon had to point out those cute girls this morning." As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, all he could think of was that his luck with women lately had been definitely of the Wraith kind, not the college girl kind.

Thirsty, Sheppard grabbed the bottle of water he had opened earlier, and as he took a drink, he walked over to the balcony doors, pulling back the drapes. It was nearly dark; the sky was losing the soft orange glow of the sunset, fading into deep midnight blue. He opened the doors and stepped out on the balcony; his room overlooked the main pool, and he could see the outdoor section of the bar, both now illuminated by the warm glow of sconces and landscape lighting. The night air was considerably cooler but still in the seventies, yet after the heat of the afternoon the air felt decidedly chilly.

As he watched stars begin to appear in the darkening sky he thought, coming to this hotel had been the right choice; the Ritz had all the glitz, and glamour of Caesar's Palace, along with the remoteness and back to nature feel of Lake Mead. A good combination in Sheppard's mind, one he hoped would lead to some fun and quiet days. He mostly wanted the quiet days.

Walking back into the room, he checked his watch…he had less than fifteen minutes to get ready. He was meeting the guys in the lobby at eight. Quickly rummaging through his suitcase, he selected a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and grabbed a jacket from the suit bag in the closet. At five minutes to eight, he slipped on his boots and headed for the lobby.

Sheppard was surprised to see McKay waiting alone in a small alcove off the lobby, staring into the gas flame burning in the fireplace. Sheppard managed to drop into an armchair next to the one McKay was sitting in without disturbing the scientist.

"Been here long?"

McKay jumped, as he jerked his head around, "Damn it, Sheppard; don't sneak up on me like that." He settled back in the chair, "I came down about ten minutes ago, decided I was tired of being harassed for always being late."

Sheppard laughed, "I think the old saying is 'a penny for your thoughts,' Rodney; you were staring into that fire as if you'd been transported somewhere else."

A pensive look crossed McKay's face, "You don't have to guess where...I was just thinking, what if what those entries in the database turn out to be important, and we're not there to figure it out?"

Slouching down in the chair, Sheppard shrugged his shoulders, "Rodney, I don't think Radek or Dr. Lee will keep anything important from you. Besides, Atlantis isn't going anywhere for awhile, at least…you'll have plenty of time to research whatever they've found."

"Yeah, well, flyboy, what happens if after we've been gone so long they decide they don't really need us?"

Sheppard sat up, turning to McKay, "Is that what all your constant griping has been about, you're afraid that you'll get replaced?"

McKay sucked in a breath, concern, fear…Sheppard couldn't decide which…flooded his friend's eyes. "I-I…I know it's stupid, but yes, I'm afraid that now that we're here they won't need us."

Sheppard leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, then thought better of the move as he felt strain in his lower back…gingerly he straightened up, "Rodney, don't be an idiot; you are the most experience person in the known universe about this stuff. Whatever happened to that McKay ego?"

McKay didn't answer. Sheppard eased back in the tan upholstered armchair, "Please don't tell me that humility has overcome you, and you think you have human frailties. I don't think I can process that revelation."

McKay stood up, taking a couple of steps to the front of the fireplace, "It's easy for you, you…you possess the …you know…you are way too valuable to them but…."

"Rodney, no one is going to replace you; no one could."

"Really…you really think that?"

McKay's expression reminded Sheppard of a little boy who was once afraid that no one loved him; he was that little boy, scared following his mother's death. He answered his friend quietly, "I know that, now stop worrying."

Rodney glanced away as if he was at a loss for words; before he gathered his thoughts, Beckett and Ronon arrived.

Beckett was smiling, "Sorry we're late. Ronon was watching True Grit when I stopped by to get him, we watched the last fifteen minutes together. Love that movie."

"No problem, it's just a few minutes passed eight; I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry, let's eat."

The Ritz-Carlton's Dove Mountain resort sported several dining rooms and on their first night, they were dining in the CORE Kitchen and Wine Bar. Deciding the night was too nice not to enjoy, they chose to sit outside on the patio, their dinner companion a huge multi-limbed saguaro cactus, up-lit by landscape lights.

Twenty-minutes later, they were nearly finished with their salads and a bottle of wine. McKay was pulling off another chunk of bread from the third loaf the server brought; Ronon ate one loaf by himself.

Beckett ordered a Dungeness Crab salad, and from the moment the plate arrived, he had not spoken a word. As he put the fork down on a nearly pristine plate, he sighed, "John that crab was worth the entire trip." Realizing what he said, he quickly added, "Sans the injuries of course."

Sheppard was finishing an Ahi Tuna and Smoked Salmon tartare, "I'll second that, Carson…good food."

Rodney, chewing on a bite of bread, mumbled, "How can you eat that?"

"This from a man who ordered the Roasted Baby Beets and Bibb lettuce salad… seriously? Really, Rodney…I get tartare; Carson gets crab, Ronon's eating…what was that called Ronon, Buffalo Carpaccio…" Ronon nodded, and Sheppard continued, "And you ordered beets."

"I like beets and this was very good."

Sheppard smirked, "After all these years, you're still not very adventurous, are you?" McKay ignored him.

Beckett piped up, as he was pouring the last of the wine into his glass, "I'm not very adventurous about a lot of things either, but food…I like to experiment with food."

McKay glared at him, "Oh, so that explains it, haggis was an experiment gone badly."

After consuming three glasses of wine, Beckett was getting a bit tipsy, his voice slurring slightly, "Rodney McKay, I'll have you know that haggis is a very fine dish."

As McKay raised a finger to retort, Sheppard put up his hand, "Enough, let's just enjoy what we are eating tonight, and Rodney can play with his beets."

Sheppard's comment triggered laughter from Ronon and Beckett, and they were still laughing when the server brought their main courses. The aromas from Sheppard and Beckett's salmon, Ronon's steak, and the duck breast McKay ordered wafted across the table and once more conversation was at a minimum. After everyone had devoured a few bites, Sheppard pointed his fork at McKay.

"So how's the Maple Leaf Duck?"

"Sheppard, bite me…this is good and no…I didn't order it just because it was called Maple Leaf. I like duck," with a flourish Rodney took a big bite of his entrée.

Ronon looked perplexed, "Maple leaf?"

"Yeah, Chewie…the leaf of the maple tree is the symbol of Canada," Sheppard replied dryly.

Ronon grinned, "A leaf? The symbol of your country is a leaf?"

"Yes, it's a leaf, from the mighty maple tree," McKay preened.

"It's the oak tree that's mighty, Rodney; not the maple," Sheppard taunted.

Beckett was finishing his second glass of wine, from the second bottle they ordered, "Ah...leave the wee laddie alone; he can't help being from Canada."

"At least, I don't wear a skirt."

Beckett sputtered, "It's a kilt, Rodney, not a skirt, you cheeky bugger."

Sheppard threw up his hands, "Okay, okay…I started this…I'm ending this. Finish your dinner; afterwards, we'll go have a drink in the bar, alright?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. During the remainder of dinner, they discussed the hotel, their rooms, and after Rodney and Beckett ordered dessert and coffee, they headed for the bar.

The Ignite Bar was a cozy, contemporary bar with a beamed ceiling, dark wood floors, and furniture. A long bar, its counter made of ivory stone, sat along one wall; the straight back stools and chairs upholstered in the same ivory color. They headed for a table for four near the open patio doors, giving them a clear view of the large fire pit.

"I know I've already said this John, but this hotel is very nice," Beckett remarked, as he sat down on the thick cushioned ivory chair.

"Hard to find a better hotel than the Ritz," Sheppard replied.

McKay was watching one of the small TV's over the bar, "Why is it that all bars only show sports?"

Sheppard glanced sideways at McKay, "What do you want, what's that guy's name…Bill Nye, the Science Guy?"

"Well, not everyone likes sports," McKay huffed.

"Then don't watch."

"Hi, guys, I'm Mia, what can I get you?" They looked up to see a lovely, tall, blond cocktail server, who was staring at Ronon.

Ronon grinned, "Tequila."

She cocked her head, a sly grin on her face, "Any particular brand or would you like me to choose?"

"You choose."

She nodded turned to Sheppard, "And for you?"

"Glenfiddich neat, please."

"We have 12, 15, 21, and 40-year-old Glenfiddich, which would you prefer?

Sheppard sighed, "Been a long time since I had a 40-year-old scotch."

"Good choice, sir."

Before she could ask, Beckett spoke, "I'll have one of those as well, lassie."

Mia uttered a little gasp upon hearing the Scotsman's brogue, then gave Beckett a impish smile, "Lassie? Oh…you must know your Scotch."

She then turned to Rodney, "And you?"

"Uh…I…a Manhattan…uh… with Canadian whiskey."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

The four men watched her walk the short distance to the bar; Beckett finally broke the silence, "Yes, indeed, colonel; you certainly pick very nice hotels."

"I hear you, Carson."

Ronon leaned forward, "What's a Manhattan?"

Rodney answered, "It's a mixed drink made with Canadian whiskey, sweet vermouth, and bitters."

"Bitters?"

"An alcoholic drink made with herbs, it tastes bitter, and is used to flavor cocktails," McKay answered.

Confused, Ronon looked at Sheppard, who shrugged, "Scientists."

Mia returned with their drinks, serving Sheppard and Beckett their scotch in short square tumblers, sat McKay's drink in front of him, then placed a tumbler of pale amber liquid, a split lemon slice resting on the rim, in front of Ronon.

"This is Sauza Conmemorativo, my favorite tequila; I hope you enjoy." As she walked away, she slid her hand across Ronon's shoulder.

McKay groaned, "Great, now Ronon's getting hit on."

Sheppard grimaced, "Stop, McKay…let him have some fun; can't help the pretty waitress didn't like you best."

Ronon leaned over the table, taking a closer look at Rodney's drink, "Is that a beet?"

McKay looked at Ronon, "No…what the hell…it's a cherry."

"Cherry….isn't that a fruit?"

"Yes, but you have a fruit on your drink," Rodney whined, pointing to the lemon slice Ronon had lain on a napkin.

"But yours is sweet, seems like a girl's drink."

Sheppard and Beckett attempted to stifle their amusement but finally succumbed, both bursting out laughing. Beckett said, "Rodney can you tie that little stem into a bow with your tongue? If you can, bet the waitress would pay attention to you."

McKay was turning hot pink, "You need to grow up," he looked around the table, "all of you."

Sheppard rubbed his eyes, "Chill out, McKay; Carson and Ronon are just teasing." He raised his glass, "Let's toast to a few days of quiet, rest, and fun."

As they clinked glasses, Ronon snatched the cherry from McKay's Manhattan, quickly biting it off the stem. "Umm…good McKay."

McKay just stared at Ronon, then took a sip of his drink. Sheppard sighed, sipped his own drink, tipping his glass to Beckett, "Smooth." Beckett tipped his glass back.

"This tequila is good, better than the stuff I had at the other hotel," Ronon remarked.

Grinning, Sheppard teased, "Could it be who selected the tequila that makes it so good?"

Ronon glanced around at the bar, where the lovely barmaid was getting drinks for another table, "Might be."

"So, guys, I don't know what you want to do tomorrow, but I think a day hanging around the hotel is in order. We can do whatever we want, go to the pool, play a little golf, get a massage."

McKay brightened, "A massage sounds great."

Sheppard took a longer sip of Scotch, with a satisfied expression on his face uttered, "Then it's settled, hanging around the hotel it is."

~ooOoo~

Day Four

Prying open his eyelids into little slits, Sheppard gingerly rolled his eyes toward the clock sitting on the bedside table. It was 0807 hours; he groaned, later than he had intended on sleeping. He rolled onto his back, muttering, "Crap, John, is that all you're gonna do, sleep the days away?" He stretched, pleased to experience little pain across his back; scoffing, he thought, 'yeah, probably just the scotch masking the pain.' Too bad the Glenfiddich wasn't masking the pain inside his head; he and Beckett managed to down a full bottle of the smooth, rich peat flavored whisky between them. He wondered if Beckett was comatose.

Closing his eyes, Sheppard knew he needed to rehydrate, but the last thing he wanted to do was move a single muscle. If he'd been a bit more cognizant when he managed to find his room last night, he'd have put a bottle of water on the nightstand. At the moment, the tray holding water and ice was across the room, which felt like a football field away. He decided he wasn't moving and drifted back to sleep.

A loud ringing sound woke him abruptly, and he shot upright, unconsciously reaching for his P-14. Disoriented, it took a second for him to realize that the annoying noise was the phone. Snatching the handset from the cradle, he nearly knocked the phone onto the floor. Gruffly, he answered, "What?"

McKay's voice floated into his ear, "Well…you sound chipper this morning."

"Stop talking so loud, Rodney. What do you want?"

"We were just wondering if you were going to sleep the day away, it's already 9:00, and we're heading for breakfast at the… uh…CORE, out on the patio, want to join us?"

"No, go away," Sheppard slammed the handset down and fell back onto the pillow. As he became more lucid, he realized that he was hungry and breakfast did indeed sound appetizing; a hearty, greasy breakfast to soak up what was left of the scotch in his system.

Throwing back the covers, he rolled more than rose out of bed, padding to the bathroom. He flipped on the overhead light, then flipped it back off, the glare too intense, "Crap, too much scotch," he mumbled. Emerging a few minutes later, he slipped on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and gray hoodie, grabbed his key card, phone, sunglasses, and left the room.

The Arizona desert sun was a bright yellow glow in the sky as Sheppard walked onto the dining patio where his friends were waiting. He sat down, gazing around the table at his buddies. McKay, his ever-present pad propped up against a plate, seemed rested and relaxed, a word Sheppard was surprised to use as a description of his friend; nervous, anxious, paranoid, testy, those words always seemed more appropriate to describe McKay's mood. Beckett was quiet, sunglasses and fishing hat on, to keep the sun out of his eyes; but Sheppard suspected the good doctor was hiding the same thing he was, bloodshot eyes.

"Carson, how you feeling…"

Sheppard got no further before Beckett put up his hand, "No…laddie, gonnae no dae that …you had only around six drinks from that bottle. I bloody drank the rest, I was blootered last night."

McKay looked up from his pad, "You think? You were downing that scotch like it was water."

"McKay…not so loud," Sheppard lamented, as he poured a cup of coffee from the carafe sitting on the table.

Scoffing, McKay said, "Oh…you get drunk, and I can't rub it in like you did me." Rodney reached for Sheppard's coffee cup, "And no coffee…you need water."

Sheppard snatched the coffee cup out of McKay's reach, "No…I'll drink water but need coffee."

Smugly, McKay snarked, "Just what I thought Sheppard, won't practice what you preach."

Beckett moaned, "Rodney, quit your nipping."

McKay snapped, "What language are you speaking?"

Beckett downed a small glass of orange juice in one gulp, "I'm speaking English, you goon."

"No... no, you're not; you're talking like a street kid from Glasgow."

"McKay, shut up." Ronon's quiet command caused the scientist's head to snap around but when he saw the look on Ronon's face, he shut up.

Sheppard took a sip of coffee, then reached for a glass of water, drinking all of it, "For your information Rodney, I may have had a few drinks too many last night, but I never got plastered. I do have a headache this morning; haven't drunk that much in one sitting in a very long time."

When Rodney started to retort, a warning glance from Ronon quieted him, and he turned his attention to his pad once more. A server arrived and took their food orders with assurances he would be back swiftly with additional carafes of coffee and water.

As they waited for breakfast, Sheppard, feeling a bit better after consuming fluids along with the Advil and vitamins that Beckett had shoved toward him, asked Ronon quietly, "So big guy, when I left the bar last night, you were chatting with the lovely Mia. So, how'd that go?"

Ronon was leaning over the table, his elbows resting on the edge. He tilted his head toward Sheppard; the corners of his mouth slightly turned up, "We talked; that's all."

Sheppard's left eyebrow rose, "Really?"

A muffled chuckle escaped Ronon's throat, "Really…I…I think what we talked about before we left Atlan…home…was right, too much risk hurting someone if we act on our feelings. Don't want to do that."

"Wise man, Ronon Dex," Sheppard whispered.

"Or a complete fool, take your pick."

Sheppard only nodded, in reply; Ronon's logic defied disagreement.

After they breakfast, they decided to head for the pool, McKay complaining until Sheppard told him they'd rent a couple of cabanas, so he could stay out of the sun. They returned to their rooms to change and met at the Turquesa Pool by 10:15.

"Ooh…nice cabana's," McKay commented as he flopped onto one of the large white cushioned lounges nestled under the white billowy canopies. Ronon spotted the waterslide and headed up the incline toward the top of the slide, which led into a pool below the Turquesa. Beckett, resplendent in a red tropical pattern swimsuit, flopped down on a lounger sitting in front of the cabana and began to slather on sunscreen lotion.

Sheppard decided the best way to chase the cobwebs from his brain was physical activity. He stripped off the t-shirt he was wearing, hiked-up his navy blue swim trunks and dove in the deep end of the pool.

As his body slid through the water, still cool despite the intense sun beating down, Sheppard felt the tension in his muscles slough away with each stroke he took in the lengthy pool. It was shoulder season for the resort; the onslaught of winter guests weren't due until November, and the pool was empty. Sheppard was enjoying every moment of solitude as he swam several laps before feeling fatigued. Reluctantly, he exited the pool and after grabbing a towel, sat down in the chair next to Beckett.

As he rubbed the water out of his hair, he asked, "Carson, you awake?

"Aye, laddie; I think the sun is bringing me back to life." Beckett took a long swallow from the water bottle he was holding, "Remind me not to drink so much."

Sheppard swung his long legs onto the lounger and leaned against the inclined back cushion, "Only if you remind me, but damn that was some smooth scotch."

"Smooth indeed, but lethal."

Chuckling, Sheppard replied, "You certainly reverted to some Scottish words that I've never heard you use before. What was that word, blootered?"

Beckett sighed, "Blootered…yeah… means drunk or in this case really drunk. What the hell was I thinking after being so stupid at your friend's vineyard?"

"You're on vacation; you're allowed to be a little stupid."

"Got that market cornered, John."

Sheppard glanced over his shoulder to see McKay, laptop resting on his bent knees. He was on the verge of harassing McKay for working all the time, when they heard loud squeals from the water slide. Both Sheppard and Beckett looked to their left to see Ronon sliding down with his arms around two small children, safely tucked against him. Sheppard hopped up just in time to see the trio splash into the lower pool.

Sitting back down, he laughed, remarking to Beckett, "Ronon's having a blast; I swear I'd do these last few weeks over just to see how much fun Ronon's had."

Beckett shook his head, "You would, wouldn't you? You'd go through all the trauma that you have been though just so any one of us would enjoy this vacation. John, one of these days, you need to concentrate on taking care of yourself."

Sheppard slipped on his sunglasses and lowered the back of the lounger, "No hurry, got plenty of time to worry about me."

A few more squeals from the direction of the waterslide broke the quiet but eventually both Beckett and Sheppard became drowsy in the hot sun, falling asleep. Sheppard awoke with a start as he felt something cold touch his chest. He snapped upright, "What the hell?"

Ronon was standing over him, a couple of bottles of cold water in his hands, "Thought you might want one of these." He held out a bottle and Sheppard grabbed it.

"Gee, thanks…"

Pointing to Beckett, "He's getting a bit pink isn't he?"

Beckett was turning hot pink; Sheppard swung his left arm and slapped Beckett's lounger. After a couple of tries, he woke Beckett up. "You need to turn over, gettin' sunburned." Beckett stirred, blankly looked at Sheppard and turned over, immediately going back to sleep.

Looking at his own skin, Sheppard flipped over, "Do me a favor, Chewie; wake me in a half-hour."

Exactly thirty minutes later, Ronon woke Sheppard by shaking him, "Get up, time for a swim."

Sheppard rolled over, stretched, and sat up; his skin was hot and Ronon's suggestion sounded wonderful, "A swim sounds just right." Choosing not to dive into the pool, he eased in from the edge and relaxed a bit before starting to swim.

Ronon dove in and joined him, with a huge grin on his face, he hollered, "Race you, Sheppard."

The two men swam for nearly five minutes, Sheppard chasing Ronon the entire way. Exhausted, Sheppard stopped next to the pool steps, giving up; he exited the pool and walked back to where Beckett and McKay were sitting. Looking at his watch, he spoke breathlessly, "Anybody h-hungry?"

"I am," McKay answered prompting a retort from Beckett.

"Rodney, maybe you are part pig."

Sheppard laughed and motioned for Ronon to get out of the pool, "Come on, Ronon; Rodney's hungry. Need to get changed for lunch."

~ooOoo~

They were sitting on the patio at Ignite for lunch, remnants of cheeseburgers and turkey sandwiches left on their plates. Sheppard was finishing the last dregs of his beer as he looked down at his watch.

"Well, boys, our massage appointment are in fifteen minutes. Ronon, you sure you don't want to join us at the spa?"

"No, rather go to the gym."

"Okay then, but after this massage, I want to go hit some golf balls; want to go with me?"

Ronon grinned, "Ready for me to out hit you?"

Scowling, Sheppard answered grimly, "Might as well be."

The Spa lobby was awash in white, walls, floor, and furniture; a large dangling chandelier hung over a round reception desk. The receptionist was a lovely brunette, who checked them in, first directing Ronon to the gym, then calling for attendants to take the other three to their massage suites.

Approximately an hour later, Sheppard entered the Spa lobby to find Beckett and McKay waiting for him. He was about to say something when a feminine voice yelled his name, "John, you forgot your watch." A lovely woman walked up to him, handing him his watch, "It was a pleasure to meet you, John Sheppard; I hope you will come back to see me again."

Looking quite embarrassed, Sheppard smiled slightly, "Thanks Ming, my shoulder, and back feel so much better." The tiny masseuse smiled warmly and rubbed his arm before she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

When he turned back to look at Beckett and McKay, both were staring at him; McKay's arms folded across his chest.

"What wrong with you two?"

McKay looked at Beckett, then back at Sheppard, "Really…you got the cute girl, and we got guys?"

"I didn't arrange that, if that's what you think," Sheppard replied sheepishly. "Come on, let's go get Ronon, I want to change and go hit some golf balls." He headed toward the gym.

As they followed Sheppard, McKay whined, "It's gotta be that damn gene that makes him so lucky."

~ooOoo~

Sheppard and Ronon left for the golf club, leaving Beckett and McKay on their own. They wandered around the hotel looking at the Southwestern artwork, and checking out the gift shop. They were walking through the main lobby when a sign caught Beckett's attention.

"Come on Rodney, let's see if we can get on one of the scenic trail rides this afternoon."

"I don't want to ride a horse; I don't like horses."

"Don't be such a bairn; they'll give you a gentle horse…it'll be easier than riding a bike."

"What the hell is a bairn?"

"A child, Rodney, don't be such a child; now let's check and see if we can take a ride on a horse."

To McKay's chagrin, there was a trail ride scheduled for mid-afternoon. After hastily changing into jeans, they had barely enough time to make the transport to the stables. On the way, Rodney was sullen, but Beckett ignored him, other than to assure him he was going to have fun.

Their wrangler, who introduced himself as Jock, was around sixty-years-old, with graying hair and a tan-weathered complexion. He spoke briefly with each rider and motion to a stable hand to bring a horse. When he got to McKay, he smiled.

"Ever been on a horse?"

McKay glared at Jock, "Yes…I have."

Jock asked, "More than once?"

"Uh…well…no," McKay swallowed, answering slowly.

Slapping him on the back, nearly hard enough to knock McKay down, "Got just the horse for you, son, she's a sweetheart."

A stable hand brought out a small, chestnut quarter horse, "This is Bessie, and she's real gentle." The hand helped a reluctant McKay onto the little mare's back, showing him how to hold the reins and how to instruct her to move. Once all the riders were up, Jock called for them to move out, McKay following Beckett down the trail.

The scenery was stark and beautiful. The afternoon sun washed the landscape in a golden glow, the sky was cornflower blue, the craggy peaks of the Tortolita Mountains reaching into the sky. They'd ridden about two miles when Beckett dropped back to see how Rodney was doing.

"You alright?"

"Just peachy."

"Rodney, the trail isn't difficult, and you have a wee gentle mare; you should be enjoying yourself."

"When did you learn to ride?"

Beckett smiled, as a far away look glazed his eyes, "There was this lovely lassie at college, who I was crazy about; her family owned a sheep ranch, and she invited me to spend a few weekends with her family. I learned to ride there, loved riding, but haven't ridden it in years."

"I don't like it; my butt hurts, and my back hurts from falling off that damn bicycle."

"Are you in pain, Rodney?"

"Yes."

Looking unconvinced, Beckett said, "Rodney, as the colonel would say, suck it up, and enjoy yourself," then moved forward in front of McKay again.

As they rode down the trail, Jock entertained the riders by describing the terrain, and the flora and fauna of the high Sonoran desert; most of the riders moved closer to the wrangler, so they could hear him better. McKay lagged behind, and as the group got further away, he halted the little mare, and with some difficulty, managed to turn her around and headed back for the stable.

~ooOoo~

It was nearly 5:00 p.m., and Sheppard and Ronon were sitting on the patio at Claytons, the Golf Club's restaurant, a couple of cold draft Guinness beers in front of them.

Ronon was grinning, "That was fun."

"Yeah, well, you did win a hundred dollars from that pompous ass who said you couldn't out drive him. I'd consider that fun."

"Putting's fun, too."

"That was another fifty dollars you won off me."

"I'm beginning to like golf."

"Rub it in, Ronon."

"So, when are we going where Wyatt Earp lived?"

"You are really interested in him, aren't you?" Ronon nodded; Sheppard continued, "I was thinking that tomorrow after…." His phone rang, "It's Carson; Rodney probably wants to know when we are going to eat."

"Carson, hey; we'll be back at…," Sheppard stopped, listening intently. "You have no idea where he is?" He paused, then answered, "We'll be right there." He stood up, already moving toward the door, "Come on, Rodney's missing."

The assistant manager of the golf resort drove Sheppard and Ronon over to the stables on a golf cart. On the way, Sheppard tried to reach Rodney by phone with no luck. When they arrived, Beckett and Jock were talking to hotel security, while several of the hands were saddling horses.

When he saw Sheppard, Beckett ran over to him, "Colonel, I don't know what happened. He was behind me, and complaining about his back and butt hurting. I thought he was exaggerating, like always. When I turned around again, he was gone."

A tall man flashing a badge approached, "I'm Security Chief Martin Reynolds. Are you Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes I am...any idea where McKay could be? I tried calling his cell, but couldn't reach him."

Reynolds shook his head, "We have to use radios out here; for some reason, we lose cell service here at the stables. Ritz has been trying to get another tower built here."

Jock walked over, "Colonel...I was the wrangler on this drive. In answer to your question, McKay can't have gotten far. Bessie's a good mare; she knows her way back to the stables. I'm sure they'll show up soon."

Ronon was restless, "Sheppard, let me go look for him." Sheppard nodded.

"Reynolds, this is Ronon Dex; he's a civilian contractor for the Air Force and part of my team. He's an expert tracker; he can find Rodney." Sheppard turned to Jock, "Can you get us a couple of horses?" Jock nodded and headed for the stables.

"Colonel, I was just getting ready to call in the local sheriff and the county rescue team."

Sheppard shook his head, "I don't think Rodney could have gotten far, probably just made a wrong turn. Ronon should be able to find him, but might want to keep them on standby, if we don't find him before dark."

The security chief pointed to the sky, "You've got less than an hour of sunlight left, colonel. I'm going to let the sheriff know what's going on; he might want to send some help just in case."

Jock was returning with a couple of saddled horses. "Here you go," handing the reins to Sheppard and Ronon, "the boys and I are going with you."

"John, I'm going, too," Beckett was insistent.

Sheppard patted him on the shoulder, "Of course you are." He looked over at Jock, who nodded to one of his hands, who slipped on his mount and handed the reins to Beckett.

Sheppard mounted his horse and with Jock in the lead, the search party left the stables in search of the missing scientist. Thirty minutes passed before they reached the spot Beckett thought was the last time he spoke with McKay.

Ronon trotted his horse next to Beckett, "Doc... you certain this is the place?"

"Yes Ronon, I am; I remember that funny-looking cactus. I had dropped back to check on him, and he was complaining about his back hurting. I told him to suck it up like the colonel would tell him…" Beckett's voice broke, "I – I…he might really have been hurting, and I thought he was complaining as he always does." Turning to look at Sheppard, Beckett's voice was quivering, "John, he's been out here in this heat for about three hours with only one bottle of water."

"Don't worry, McKay's stronger than he wants us to think, he'll be fine." Ronon assured Beckett.

Sheppard gave Beckett a tight-lipped smile, "Ronon's right; Rodney does surprise us."

They continued for another 10 minutes until Ronon threw up his hand, halting the search party, and hopping off his horse. Sheppard got off his horse, joining his friend.

"Got something?"

"Yeah, think so…look, there are lots of tracks going down the trail…but right here, there are wide hoof prints, like someone turned a horse around."

Jock had joined them, "Yeah, and not very well…Bessie should have turned tighter than that, might have had trouble getting her turned."

Ronon walked back down the trail, examining the tracks. Kneeling down next to a set of tracks he remarked, "Hard to tell but looks like some of these prints are heading back toward the stables." He stood up, asking Jock, "You come back this same way?"

"No, we follow a trail that winds back to the stables; we don't backtrack."

Sheppard looked down the trail, "Knowing Rodney he got bored and decided to head back, turned the horse around and…."

Beckett finished Sheppard's sentence, "…and disappeared."

"Not disappeared, just lost, Carson; we'll find him."

Jock spoke, "I'm gonna send a couple of the guys on around the trail that we took the group. Rest of us will follow you."

Sheppard agreed; mounting their horses, they started back toward the stable, slowly, Ronon in the lead.

The sun was nearing the horizon, when Ronon halted the group once again…they were near a sizable area of scrub brush, and cactus, near a narrow rocky incline jutting into the flatter terrain. He leapt off his horse, "Sheppard, looks like some tracks headed off that way," pointing around the rocks. "There're other tracks here, smaller tracks."

Jock hurried over, dropping to one knee, "Bobcat tracks; cat might have run out of that scrub and spooked Bessie."

Ronon walked across the trail, "Hoof prints this way." He and Jock mounted their rides, and the group headed up the rocky incline.

As dusk fell, they began to yell for McKay, Jock and his hands brought strong searchlights with them, which illuminated the trail, but it was still difficult to see. Sheppard and Ronon were calling for McKay, hoping he'd recognize their voices. Sheppard was getting exasperated, all he could think of was he was going to kill Rodney when he found him…knowing full well that he wouldn't; it was just fear for his friend that was driving his thoughts.

Sheppard yelled Rodney's name again, and then stopped to listen, this time a faint voice replied. Ronon whooped, "That's him."

They came around a curve in the narrow path, and found McKay on the ground, propped up against a rock, Bessie's reins in his hand. The little mare was standing next to him. When the searchlight shined on him, McKay threw his hand over his eyes from the glare. Sheppard jumped from his horse but wasn't quick enough, Beckett beat him to their friend.

"Rodney, are you okay, laddie?"

"No, I'm not okay, Carson; I'm sunburned, thirsty, and shaky from hunger."

Sheppard grabbed a water bottle, "Here…" handing the bottle to McKay, "…drink slowly." He waited for McKay to take a drink then asked, "What happened, why didn't you tell Carson you were returning to the stable?"

"He didn't believe me when I told him my back was hurting, and he was having fun, so I decided to go back, figured he would realize I returned to the stable. I was gonna wait for him there. But the horse got spooked, some animal that looked like a cat ran out in front of her, and she took off up this path; I couldn't get her to stop. Then she stumbled on a rock and hurt her leg…look…her knee's all swollen…didn't seem she wanted to put any weight on it. I was scared I'd hurt her if I tried to ride her or move her, so I figured someone would come looking for me." Rodney shivered, "Damn...I didn't eat all my lunch, really hungry."

Sheppard reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a powerbar, "Here…always keep one with me in case you get crabby."

McKay stared at the powerbar and then at his friend, "You keep these for me?"

"Don't let it go to your head, McKay; just prefer not to hear you gripe about being hungry, now eat that."

Jock had checked out the mare's leg, "Your friend did the right thing; Bessie's injured her knee, could be a sprain, but don't think it's anything more serious. I'm sending one of the boys back for some supplies; we'll get her wrapped up and back to the barn for treatment."

Crouching down next to McKay, Jock smiled, "Glad we found you, son, and thanks. Your actions probably saved this little mare's life; she's one of our favorites, would have hated to lose her."

McKay, chewing on the powerbar, only nodded in reply. Sheppard answered for him, "Hope she's okay, and thanks for your help in finding McKay."

"Hey, don't thank me," Jock motioned in Ronon's direction, "that boy can track. Got some Indian blood in him?"

Sheppard smiled, "Something like that."

Jock added, "Colonel, I'm going to remain with Bessie; your friend can ride my horse back." Turning to his stable hands, he ordered, "Vic, Roger, you stay with me; rest of you, escort our guests back to the stables." To Sheppard, he added, "I've radioed Reynolds; he'll have transport to take you back to the hotel."

Sheppard shook Jake's hand, thanking him. He and Ronon helped McKay onto Jock's horse, and with Beckett riding next to his friend, they returned to the hotel.

~ooOoo~

While Beckett accompanied Rodney to his room, Sheppard and Ronon headed to their rooms for quick showers, Sheppard called Ignite and ordered takeout, then met up with Ronon. They picked up the food order and headed for Rodney's room.

Carson opened Rodney's door, rolling his eyes. Sheppard laughed, "That bad?"

"Thinking about a very strong dose of pain meds to put him out of our misery."

"Don't forget your Hippocratic Oath, doctor."

"Thanks for reminding me, laddie."

Entering the room, they found McKay lying on his bed, laptop next to him, dressed in the happy face pajamas and a t-shirt. He was definitely sunburned, his skin bright pink.

"Love that particular shade of pink, Rodney," Sheppard snarked, as he and Ronon opened the food containers.

"Bite me, Sheppard; I'm hurting."

Handing him a cheeseburger, "I know you're uncomfortable, and I am certain that Carson is taking good care of you."

McKay took a big bite of his burger, mumbling, "So go ahead…"

"Go ahead and do what?" Sheppard as he sat down at the small table, and grabbed a beer.

"Yell at me for leaving the group, I'm certain you're chomping at the bit to yell at me."

Taking a bite of his sandwich, he chewed slowly, then took a drink of his beer before he answered, "Not going to yell at you; you know you shouldn't have left, but you did do the right thing and took care of Bessie. So, while you created the problem, you did the right thing in the end."

McKay stared at him, oblivious to the soft chuckles from Beckett and Ronon, "You think I did the right thing?"

Sheppard took another swig from his beer, "About the mare yes, about leaving the group…well that was stupid. You were lucky you didn't break your neck falling off Bessie when she spooked."

McKay grunted, pointing at Sheppard, "See, I knew you wanted to yell at me."

Beckett stuffed two avocado fries in his mouth as he replied, his words garbled, "Rodney, you are sunburned, and you're back is slightly strained. You are going to live, and if John isn't going to yell at you, I am. You shouldn't have left without telling me; I'd have come back with ya if you were that uncomfortable."

Sheppard interrupted, "Okay it's done…let's talk about tomorrow. We came to southern Arizona to take Ronon to the OK Corral, so that's what we are doing tomorrow. It's a two-hour drive from here so, let's leave around 0700 hours, that way we'll have a full day to enjoy Tombstone."

Ronon grinned, "That sounds cool."

Rodney groaned.

To be continued...

This segment is a bit transitional...just a little action...I wanted them to have a little fun...however...

I will try to have the next installment sometime this month but I have some committments to take care of, but I will get it done as soon as possible. No worries, I will finish this Road Trip.