Chapter Two: A Small Request of Confirmation
John took a quick glance at his watch as he stood outside Dr. Weir's office, to which the door was currently closed.
Forty---five minutes.Sheppard thought brazenly making him smile; he'd actually been waiting there outside her door for quite a bit. It really hadn't taken him all that long to get back to his quarters, dry off and redress, it was just he just loved to push buttons. He was a natural button pusher, especially the ones attached to people. Those were his favorite ones, all different colors, shapes, and sizes. Sometimes it was very easy to find someone's buttons, they often let their emotions fly, and so button finding was just a matter of paying attention. Like McKay for example, John found his buttons easy as tying his bootlaces. Now Elizabeth Weir's buttons were a bit harder to find, like trying to seek said shoe in a pitch-black room. It took some time. But, time worth spending, Sheppard agreed with himself.
Today, was field day! Screw sack races and that goofy egg spoon thing. This was touch football in the pouring rain good. He cracked the knuckles of his right hand with his thumb, carried an open, half eaten bag of mini pretzels in the other and prepared for his first offensive move.
The door knock.
Rapping a few times, he heard Weir clear her throat from within and requested him to come in. John doused his smile, she already knew it was him. That was a good defensive tactic in his most humble opinion. This, was going to be interesting.
John waved a hand over the door sensor as the metal panel slid to the side and he strolled in, one hand in his pocket now as he stopped in the center of a room, near a chair for visitors on the opposite side of Elizabeth's desk.
She was writing something down at the moment. Sheppard went so far as to crane his neck forward to see what exactly, but the doctor's hand writing was so damn small and neat he couldn't make it out from where he stood.
Probably my permission for dismissal.He thought glumly. Granted, it'd be Weir who would decide on something like that, the final word of sorts. Damn she was playing condemner and executioner. Not at all fair, I'll have to change that.
His thought process ended as Dr. Weir turned that hard, take-no-crap glare she often adorned, more often then not when John had done something that irked her. Today, well irked might not be the word, because old Liz looked damn near pissed off. John at that point hoped he didn't get her button stuck. Time to work some defensive plays, bring in the wit, slip in a bit of the Sheppard charm, yeah, game's in the bag----fifteen/zip. Shifting his grin into a thoughtfully concerning look which almost said to the woman; 'gee doc, why so peeved?'
"You're late." Was all she said, staring at him intent on burning holes in his head with her eyes. John could already feel the heat. Alright Johnny boy, we'll try the witty play.
Sheppard shrugged casually, pulling the hand from his pocket as he spoke in a calm and collected voice, emphasizing all the right bits. "Well; what can I say? I'm spongy. Took me forever to get my hair like this. This shirt, needed ironing. And these pants, I had to pop down by the cleaners to pick them up, guy gave me such an attitude. Last time I go there. Mini pretzel?" John held the bag out to her with a boyish grin. Eat my cuteness Weir.
"Sit down." Weir replied shortly, her temper seeming un-flared yet not lessened in the least. John took this as a good thing, a run on yards a bit closer to the end zone, but not much of a gain either. Pulling the bag back with a crinkle he smoothly stepped to the side pulling the chair back and sitting himself down in one fluid motion. He took up a position of relaxation, his bag holding hand on the rest of the chair while the other tapped gently on the smooth wood of the other, legs spread out as if he were retiring in his own room. He had nothing to hide after all.
"So." He said slowly drawing his eyes away from Elizabeth's burning glare and around her office, noting how small it was. If he were running the city, he would have taken a bigger room for his office, something with a window, maybe a terrace to hit golf balls off of in the early morning hours. If he had any golf equipment that was, he didn't even really think he knew how to play either. But if I did, I sure as hell would have!
"Nice office you have here. I've like what you've done with the place. Simple in its complete austere, yet with that warm convivial feel. It's quite commendable." He popped a pretzel in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, pouring the snarky talk he'd ripped off McKay, he knew the physicist was good for one thing at least.
"Let's stick to the point of why you're here Major."
Wooo, more then two word replies, now I'm getting somewhere. Score one for the Major, stadium goes wild---Shep-pard…Shep-pard…Shep-pard. I can hear them chanting in the stands now.
"Sheppard!" Weir shouted. John whipped his head back round to look at her. Had he been staring off somewhere? She must have said something else, asked him something while he was lost in his stupid fantasy. Damn, he was so on the ball too. Quickly he rolled up the top of his little snack bag and tucked it away in one of the many pockets that littered his pants.
"I was just, contemplating what you said." He watched her expression carefully. "Asked…" John tried again, oh! There was a brow raise; it was like playing hot cold with this woman. Now I'm getting warmer.
Weir placed her pen down and folded her hands on her desk maintaining her dead-serious tone. "And?"
Sheppard shifted in his seat, starting to feel a touch uncomfortable. He thought then that most questions are typically yes or no ones so, he had a fifty/fifty chance of having it be one of those. If he was wrong, she'd reprimand him for not listening, if he was right, well then he'd be right. Scratching the back of his head, John ruffled his dark hair, smoothing it back down as he moved around again in his seat, saying a slow, hesitant. "Yes?"
Weir nodded to herself, Sheppard eased back in his chair. Quarterback goes long, Sheppard's open, he drills the ball, there it goes….
"Very well. Then for the time being, Dr. McKay will take over as mission leader and I'll move you to supervise on another section of the city." She added shortly, leaning back now in her own seat.
John, jerked up. Unable to mask his surprise and utter disgust behind a cool act of steadiness, he exclaimed. "Rodney?!" "Whoa-whoa, hold on one damn second, I did not agree to have Narcissistic McSnotty-Pants head my team, the team I picked! What the hell do you think you're doing? He'll, get them all killed while he's nose deep in some ancient, thingy-majig!" Sheppard grew warm, this room was too damn stuffy. Open a window for Christ sakes Liz----oh wait…you don't have any! How could she even think about suggesting, no; ordering that he relieve his command, and to McKay of all people. Though really he couldn't believe he just blew up at her like that.
Elizabeth sighed through her nose, stretching her fingers out slightly as she broke her stare and gazed towards the documents she had been writing earlier. "Then perhaps, you should have been listening to me in the first place Major. When I asked you what you think it takes to be a good leader."
John, was floored. He looked off to the edge of Dr. Weir's desk, processing the fact that he had just been closed-lined in his own game. …Sheppard fumbles! There's the pick up…OH touchdown! One/nothing for the away team, that's gotta hurt for Sheppard, I don't even think he saw that coming.
"You, wait---you mean we hadn't just agreed to hand my gig to McKay?"
"Now why would I do that? John you're a competent military man, a strategic thinker. You've proven that. But you force me to wonder sometimes how much you care about the people you're working with. This, isn't some game."
"You don't think I know that?" It was Sheppard's turn to fire some questions. "I take that into consideration every single time I step through that gate. Those people's lives depend on me."
"Those people?" Elizabeth knitted her brows. She shook her head and John could swear there was a mixture of annoyance and disbelief on her face. What? Was it something I said? Though she didn't give him enough time to go over the conversation to make a comeback.
"John, having a team is not just people working under you. It's not just waking up everyday and pledging to get the job done. It's actually getting it done. It's about caring for 'those people'."
"Ah, basing all of this on my level of caring? Maybe if I enforced group hugs whenever we make a successful off-world mission you'd feel different." He couldn't help but seep in sarcasm, to John these allegations were absurd, and so he was equally offended. "I mean come on Liz, back on Earth I---"
Weir raised a hand, softly interrupting him, she had a point that she felt very strongly about and nothing short of the roof collapsing on them would stop her from saying it. "But that's just it Major. We're not on Earth anymore. Here there's; a whole new set of rules, some that we're being forced to live by. We're alone out here John, Teyla's people, any other race we come across, it doesn't matter because in the end, it's just us. And we have to stick together." She continued without pause.
"Being a leader is more then doing the job you're entitled to. And I know, your history of good deeds and selflessness out merits anyone else here, but that doesn't mean I trust you as being a good leader, that takes a lot more then self-sacrifice. Today for instance, you lied, stole city equipment and supplies that we could possibly need someday, disobeyed direct orders by not getting here on time."
Blinking, John grimaced, not likeing this one bit, not one tiny inch. Was that was she was getting at, the fact that he was all but a little bit late to their 'conference', that seemed highly unlikely to be the true reason, but he had to ask anyway just to be sure. "You're punishing me for being, a bit tardy?"
"What am I supposed to feel Major? I expect more from you and what you've shown me today is that maybe you're not at all ready to command a team. So yes, I didn't exactly request you to step down, but perhaps that's what you should do for a time until you prove to me otherwise."
"Listen, Liz, I, I understand where you're coming from. I know I pulled some stupid childish stuff today, and I should know better, but it was all in fun. Like I'm sure a couple hundred cd's are going to save us from a Wraith attack." Sheppard mused slightly, trying his best to lighten the heavy blow Weir was trying to dish out.
"I'm not saying that John, but you did use them without permission, and for a ridiculous purpose. How am I supposed to trust you with a team when you're out on a balcony shooting firearms and gambling." "There's a time and place for everything Major, right now, we're in a tight spot. There's a whole arm load of problems to deal with out here and I need your help, not your competition. And I feel as though, frankly Major, you just don't respect me."
"When was I competing with you, and I'll have you know right here and now I have more respect--"
Elizabeth spoke over him, she knew he was a very trusting and well-rounded man, she thought he had respected her leadership to the fullest extent though they did bicker from time to time. But that was natural when you put two very stubborn people in league with each other. But, what he had done this time had no excuse, this was not something she could just simply place on the back burner. Not chalk it up to John being John. "Not the point. As of now, I'm revoking your status as commander of the team until I see reason to reinstate you."
"You---you can't do that!" Sheppard stuttered jumping forward and leaping to his feat, glaring down at the woman like her head suddenly sprouted flowers, his bright eyes wide and shining in intensity.
"I just did." Weir sat firm, catching his gaze and instilling just how much she meant this. She was not about to back down and the man's actions today were the final straw. She felt it was high time to test him, though in truth, she really didn't want to.
"Well, what do you want me to do?" Sheppard asked hurriedly, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't one for outbursts but now his livelihood in this whole mission was on the line. He thought then about the question he ignored from before, maybe that was what Elizabeth was truly after. Gaining his composure John straighten himself out, speaking clearly and controlled. "I see what this is about, you want me to tell you about the aspects of being, a decent leader. Fine. I'll tell you right here and now---"
"Better yet, write it down for me." Elizabeth collected the documents on her desk and arranged them in a pile, pulling her eyes away from the Major as he tried to act dignified and prideful, this should teach him a good lesson.
Pausing, John's mouth was open, the words seemed to be stuck somewhere up in his head and he simply had to ask if he heard that right. "Huh? You want me to write you an, an essay?"
Elizabeth nodded, glancing back up to him with a genuine smile, her temper slipped away long ago and John hadn't even noticed, too wrapped up in his own musings and now this ludicrous assignment she was giving him. "Yes, on what it takes to be a good leader. I think you'll find you know more and feel deeper then you think you do if you take the time and really concentrate on it. And I'm hoping to see the same. Have it on my desk by tomorrow."
"You're kidding me right?"
"Far from it John, I'm being most serious and in the end a lot more generous then I think anyone else would be." She placed the papers on the corner of her desk and leaned back in her seat, standing up slowly as she came round the desk towards him.
"But, I have other responsibilities, I just can't sit down and rattle off an essay, especially one that could either make or break my duties here. I have stuff to do." John baulked, this had to be some twisted dream, like being at school naked and without his homework, except he would get more in trouble for not having the homework then the actual naked part. Yeah the mind was a weird place, especially his.
"Not anymore John." Weir replied lightly, patting him on the back reassuringly, like this was all oksomehow. For the best.
"You're—KIDDING ME right?" John watched her every move as Weir rested the same hand on his upper arm moved them both towards the door. The point seemed so moot that Elizabeth wouldn't even bother to reassure him that she was in fact, very serious.
John found himself escorted from Weir's office by her leaving him outside her door with a finger still raised in exclamation. But in no time the door slid shut, and he, was shut out, mouth hanging open in the middle of the hallway.
"She's got to be joking." Sheppard turned to find a city crewman walking up the hall about to pass him. "She's kidding, you know." John spoke up to the crewman who returned him with an strange, confused look as to what the Major was exactly referring to. Sheppard shook his head, waving the man off as he left in the opposite direction. How, in the hell, did that get turned around like that? Where did I go wrong? Firstly, he lost complete sight of the buttons, a big no-no. Then, he let his guard down and emotionally expressed himself, something that was so not his thing, especially when under the gun. John prided himself on being a collective thinker, keeping calm in the direst situations unless he was really tuned up and even then, he tried to keep it under his control. Yeah, where went the control John? You played right into her fingers, the fans have gone home and there's a riot in the parking lot!
As Sheppard walked down the hall, thinking back on what was said and trying to figure out just where it had all gone awry, he grumbled to himself rubbing the back of his neck, slumping his tall frame. "Nuts, absolutely nuts. An essay?"
I hate writing. I'm no good at it, give me some sticks and conifer branches and I can make a mean lean-to, but pen and paper? That's like asking me to find the square root of a million.
"One thousand." Sheppard answered his own thought in a matter of seconds, smirking slightly. Alright, so maybe it wasn't that hard. But still, it was more the principle of the thing, he wasn't a writer. In fact he barely passed his English classes in college. All those damn rules and symbols, granted math was a lot like that. Though numbers were something that he read easily, they processed smoother. English, God you put a comma in the wrong place and then your preposition is all fouled up, or maybe it was the conjunction? Oh Hell! Damn I'm screwed.
"Major, how did it go? Remaining in one piece I see." John stopped short and looked up to find McKay standing before him. Rodney's smile faded as he saw the expression of deep thought and concern on Sheppard's face.
"Not good, eh?" He asked softly, feeling partly to blame for the whole thing, he did go along with it.
John sighed, tensing his face up lightly, seeming very embarrassed at the moment. "A colon, is the one with the little dot with the curved dashy thing under it right?"
McKay stared up at him with a peculiar, half-opened mouth expression, glancing briefly away as he thought about the question a second before answering. "Ah----no, no that's a semicolon, you see the colon has two dots one on top of the other, it denotes a three to four tick pause while the semicolon denotes a two tick pause." Rodney went so far as to motion the little symbol in the air with his pointer finger. He smiled thoughtfully though awkwardly, wondering why exactly the other man had asked him that, and even more thrown off by the color of pink the Major's face was taking. Rodney had never seen him so, uncomfortable.
Sheppard nodded perking his lips. "Yep, I'm screwed." Excepting his fate, Sheppard's mood lightened. "You, Doctor McKay, are looking at a screwed man. And, not in that good, morning after-glow sort of way."
"Pardon?" The physicist asked, still confused and a bit bewildered how the man could be so happy at supposedly being 'screwed'.
"See you later Rodney." John gave him a halfhearted smile and gently pushed passed him. McKay spun round not ready to leave it at that yet, the one question still nagging him. "Why, exactly did you ask me about the rules of punctuation?"
Sheppard turned round min-stride, walking backwards as he raised a hand. "So I know how to fraise: debunked, sent south, and otherwise; revoked of all privileges on my letters of resignation." He nodded, shooting a 'see you later' finger and spinning back, was soon gone from the physicist's sight.
"Oh." McKay narrowed his eyes, looking at the floor as the meaning suddenly kicked him in the collective brainpan. His head shot up, gaze wide. "WHAT?!" However, John was long gone, leaving the physicist to squirm uneasily in the middle of the hallway. What the heck happened in Weir's office? He knew then he had to talk to Elizabeth, find out why exactly Sheppard was resigning, which simply; could not be, and try to talk some sense into Weir before it was too late. Because, Rodney thought as he stormed towards her office, if John was moved out, the most logical member to take his place was him. And that, was certainly a really, really bad idea in McKay's mind. Granted, the notion did intrigue him, if only slightly.
Before Rodney knocked on the door to Elizabeth's office, he realized then just how insane the notion actually was. Him? In charge? Ha!
"She's got to be joking." He said as he waved frantically over the sensor and slid open the door, not waiting for the invitation inside.
A/N: well by popular request, I continued this one-shot and found myself dipping John in some pretty hot water. Let's hope he's a better writer then he makes himself out to be. Then again, technically it's all up to me. NO PRESSURE, really…yeah, right. ::Cowers down and hopes for the best:: Please review, haha I need the boost for the long arduous trek to the third and final chapter. Btw, took great joy from coming up with Narcissistic McSnotty-Pants. Couldn't you just see Rodney's face if Shep said that to him? Priceless.