Chapter Twenty One: Being Mrs. Sheppard

Everyone was so excited by the city. The command center was in the very center of the city, which was huge, by the way, about the size of Manhattan. The military and scientists had cleared the tall central spire, and the next spire over, which held most of our living quarters. There was no need to waste energy, of course, since we were so few, and it made defense of the city easier.

The designated quartermaster smirked as he explained that John was given the quarters right under the command center as they had belonged to the first mate. The captain's quarters were reserved for Dr. Weir in the other tower, of course. John would be okay with dividing the command structure, I was sure there was some sort of military protocol for it.

I wanted to smack every smirk, every smile, and every snort of amusement as lieutenants dropped by with John's things and then mine. Of course our plan was for John to try and get the quartermaster to assign me a room right next to his, since we'd be able to keep up the illusion that we weren't living together easier, but Elizabeth had solved that quite publically for us, and no need for that plan now.

Didn't mean that I wasn't embarrassed by it, far from it. Although I don't really know why I was embarrassed by it, come to think of it. My own father was proud of John and our relationship, so what did it matter what strangers thought?

John swung in, looked around curiously, a bit breathlessly. "God this place is huge, there's gonna be a lot of people getting lost in the next 30 days." He blew out a breath. "Is this us?"

I nodded. "Former first mate's quarters, so there's a little office over there."

He shrugged. "It's yours." He stepped over for me, and nearly fell, startled. "Jesus what is it with these stairs in stupid places," he complained, managing to right himself before suffering any further indignity to his pride, having tripped down the purely-for-aesthetics random stair diagonally across the room. "That's the third time I've tripped today."

I giggled. "Oh they're visually stunning," I admitted. "All those sweeping swooping stairs for no reason and no right angles and in all the wrong places. They are, however, completely against OSHA standards and definitely not ADA compliant."

He snorted merrily, then brightened. "I take it back, they're perfect." He swept me up with one arm, making me laugh, and set me down on the stair, then stood back to admire his handiwork. He held up his hands in a what gives gesture, laughing, and dropped his hands in defeat, slapping his legs. "You're eight inches taller and you're still short."

I crossed my arms with a harrumph. "Maybe you're too tall."

"Nah." He moved to kiss me, and he was right, this was what being tall must be like, and he kissed me warmly, definitely with meaning. "Oh this is better," he admitted, grabbing a big handful of my butt and squeezing, making me laugh and tip towards him. "But I wouldn't have you any other way, I enjoy throwing you around in bed. We'll have to christen the place when I get home." He sobered then. "Rescue mission."

Which also sobered me up. "Okay. Please be careful. Come home to me."

He caressed my face – Heightmeyer was doing a great job – and looked me carefully in the eyes. "I love you."

I smiled. "I know."

He kissed my forehead and turned to step up and head out. "Home in time for dinner."

I waved and sighed wearily. I looked at the trunks of our gear and my backpack, wrinkled my nose, and turned to head out into the city to find my library, which Simon had said was on the floor that held the cafeteria. I trotted down the stairs, delighted to find the lovely double doors and a sign in Ancient over it that read Archives, if loosely translated of course.

It was a two story room, with a soaring ceiling and rows and rows of shelves. And I fell in love immediately, even as the lieutenants wheeled in the two large library crates and set them neatly against the wall. The Marine lieutenant looked at me with a serious face. "Anything else, Mrs. Sheppard?"

The Army lieutenant snickered, and the Marine broke down too. I shot them both glares, and simply pointed for the door. They sent me cheeky salutes as they hustled out the door.

Oh yeah. That nickname was going to get old. Unless Major Sheppard decided to make an honest woman out of me, of course, though I'm sure with his commitment-phobia that was years away. Not that I'd mind being Mrs. Sheppard, as long as it wasn't a freakin' nickname.

I unwrapped the step stool from the top of the crate, and ruminated on how fast the rumor had flown. I mean, I was from a really small town, so I knew the answer to that was "like wildfied." It couldn't have been three hours since we had kissed on the balcony in front of 1/8th of the expedition. John wasn't going to be terribly happy with me, but this one wasn't my fault. Okay maybe it was. I had kissed him, after all, but he hadn't exactly not joined in without enthusiasm.

And he was on a rescue mission. I closed my eyes wearily and hoped he was still safe.

I pulled out my cleaning supplies, planned on where I was going to put everything, and started the laborious process of dusting, which began at the top of the second story. For a place that had been abandoned for ten thousand years, though, the dust wasn't too bad. I wondered if having the shield up had anything to do with that, or maybe it was the fact that the city was underwater. Hard to get more dust from the air when you're underwater, after all.

And I heard someone come in the double doors, and smiled at Nancy, waving from upstairs. "Hey, isn't this place amazing?" I called down to her, pointing to the circular staircase.

"Indeed, Mrs. Sheppard, indeed." She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, stalking up the stairs like I was the mouse she was chasing, and for a wild second my fight or flight kicked in and I looked for an escape route but found none. "You little skank. When were you going to tell me?"

I shrugged sheepishly, my hair askew in a ponytail that was half falling from the cleaning I was doing. "He –asked me not to tell." I rubbed my upper arm. "I should have told you, I know, but he was worried - I mean, he's a major, and the officers rules –"

And just like Nancy, she picked up a spare rag and the cleaning spray, and moved to help even while she grilled me. "How long?"

I blushed, turning back to the shelves. "A year."

"So you're serious? Is it true they assigned you married quarters?"

I winced and turned to her. "It's awful, I know. Was it just us? Anyone else?"

"Oh no mate, just you two." She started to laugh, reaching the top shelf with a smirk over her shoulder. "Afraid you'll never live down the Mrs. Sheppard, luv."

Me too.

Nancy helped me clean the library, and we excitedly found a section that hadn't been taken with the people when they abandoned the city. It looked to be culturally related – poems and stories and novels and I was so excited I couldn't wait to start reading and again wished for Daniel so he could share in the discovery. But first things first, and I let Nancy the archaeologist do her job. She ran off to get her camera and notebook to catalogue the find.

We ate dinner together – MREs that night, which I could see why the military men complained about them so bitterly, because while they weren't bad, they definitely weren't good – and finally I couldn't take it anymore and walked to the command center, biting my lower lip and peeking in. Dr. Weir was pacing the upper floor, her arms crossed, her head trained on the gate, and I knew they weren't back yet.

John would be okay. He had to be. I turned to head down one flight to our quarters.

There was a single bunk in the room. We'd only shared my double bed in my apartment for a couple of weeks, so I suppose this wasn't going to be too terribly different from being shacked up on the lower bunk on Antarctica. Comparatively, this was a suite at the Ritz to the first year college dorm room that was my quarters in McMurdo. Though I do have to say fairly, I'll always remember that little room fondly.

I fidgeted uncomfortably in our quarters, too nervous to read, too nervous to sleep. John's trunk and mine were neatly placed side by side near the door. I forlornly went to mine and pulled out my Cookie Monster lounge pants and my old UW Cowboys t-shirt. I crawled into bed, and stared at the ceiling.

No telling what time it was when John came in the room, though it was dark outside. He quietly took off his boots, heard me sit up, and glanced over at me. "I'm fine," he said, before I even asked. "Go back to sleep."

I shook my head; one glance was all I needed. "No. You're not." He put his hands on his hips, and I knew his jaw was working, trying to calm his irritation at me. "John you've got to talk, if not to me than to someone." I swallowed nervously. "Please."

"You want to know? Fine." He licked his lips, and looked at me seriously in the dim light from the moonlight. "Sumner's dead," he said flatly. "Rescue operations failed. There are tens of thousands of the enemy out there, and they know we're here. We are nothing more than cattle to them, we're just livestock, we're food." His voice was rising in intensity, though his volume stayed close to normal in deference to the time. "We are up against the threat that the Ancients couldn't handle. We saved 5 of the 6 people we went for, but not the one we needed to get." He rubbed his forehead wearily. "And I'm now the ranking officer. So I'm in command of a war against an enemy we know nothing about and that defeated the people who built the stargates and this fucking city. And I'm. Fine."

Oh god. Oh god there was no way he was fine. I got out of bed, and threw my arms around his waist. He wrapped me up tightly, pressed his face into the top of my head, and I pretended like I didn't feel him fighting tears. I waited until he calmed, got him to undress for bed, and he rested with his head on my chest, his arms around me, and I ran my fingers through his hair until he calmed enough to sleep.

Notes: there was a review about being rushed last chapter – yep, last chapter definitely was rushed, you're very, very right. There are a few moments when I wince as I'm proofreading, but I'm resisting the urge to rewrite (mostly because I've lost the voice for this story, having written it 5-7 years ago, and also because I figured I ought to post it as written). I think what I was trying to do was show how utterly fast time flies in an emergency when you aren't trained or experienced in handing them – but pretty much failed on that part too.

As a general reminder, remember that these stories aren't the episodes we saw on TV and all fell in love with – these are events from Epie's eyes, from the nonessential personnel who aren't in the day to day kerfuffle and who don't know what's going on. I also tried very hard not to rehash the episodes word for word and event for event – I don't enjoy reading those stories anymore than I'd enjoy writing it.

In any case, we shall have to watch as John and Epie find their "normal" on a flying city in another galaxy.