A short story – more or less – just to play with the characters a bit, and maybe throw in some fluffiness.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story except for Mitchell and Talon, and I'm not making any money off it, so there...

OOOOOOOOO

Carson Beckett held the gun in his hand loosely, carefully looking over his shoulder and then ahead of him as he inched his way along the wall. He thought he heard a noise, and froze, but the corridor was empty as near as he could tell, and the noise he'd thought he'd heard wasn't repeated. He took another few steps, coming to the intersection of the hall he was in and another one, and stopped, breathing as silently as could, his heart hammering in his chest. He peeked around the corner, and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun, and the steely blue eyes of the person holding it.

"You're dead, Doc."

"Damn it."

Sheppard grinned, and lowered the stick he'd been using as a gun. Since there was no way he'd ever use a real weapon in a war game with people who weren't trained with them – and Beckett definitely fit that category – he and the others, including the good doctor, were using sticks. Blue sticks for handguns, red ones for machine guns.

"You did good, Doc," he said, reaching out and taking Beckett's blue stick away from him. "Better than last time."

"Much better," a new voice added, and Carson turned and saw that Melony Mitchell had joined them, walking down a hallway with several blue and red sticks in her arms, as well. Trailing behind her were a group of Beckett's medics and several of the scientific officers of the group, including Peter Grodin and several others that never would have believed they'd have been playing war games. These people were being followed by several of the Marines and Air Force personnel who made up the security forces of the Atlantis base, and Beckett noticed they all had their sticks, still. Which meant none had been killed by their 'enemies'.

Colonel Mitchell was smiling, and Beckett wasn't immune to that smile. He felt his annoyance at being 'killed' by Sheppard fade almost immediately in the aftermath of the praise. One of the science officers wasn't so pleased, though.

"I don't know why we have to do this," she complained. "It's annoying to take time out of my busy schedule in order to learn something that I have no use for."

"No use?" Sheppard asked, walking over to stand by her while Mitchell leaned against the wall near Carson, watching. "What happens if someone – or something – gets on this base? What happens if we –"and he meant the security teams – "have our hands too full with dealing with one set of invaders to help you guys get to safety? The more you learn now, the better, and you're lucky that you're learning it here, where mistakes won't kill you."

The scientist sniffed, but she didn't say anything else, and Mitchell looked to see what the faces of the others in the group would tell her. She was far better at reading people than most – mainly because she had Talon to add in anything that she might have missed – but she didn't see anyone else who looked like they wanted to complain. Although it was no fun to be 'killed', most of the people in this group were bright enough to understand the reasoning behind the training they were getting, and they were, for the most part, becoming much better at moving silently, and even setting up ambushes.

Of course, they have good teachers

She smiled, but she knew that Talon hadn't just meant her and Sheppard. While she, herself, was as good in the field as anyone, and better than most, she was well aware that she was far too impatient to be a good teacher. She was too sarcastic and too quick to become annoyed at dunderheaded people and questions. Major Sheppard, on the other hand, had proven to be the teacher she wasn't, and he was the one that was bringing the less skilled along at a rate they could manage. Along with several other members of the security force that had shown a faculty at instruction that Melony couldn't equal.

You do well enough with the more advanced ones

I know. That's because they don't ask stupid questions, and they don't whine.

They probably do, just not where you can hear it

She smiled again, and stood up a little straighter now that Sheppard was done with his lecture.

"You're all dismissed," she said, waving them away. "We'll do this again in three days, so try not to let everything you've learned trickle out of your ears during the course of your normal duties – and I want you all to work on those hand signals until you don't even need to think about what you're doing."

There was a bit of muttering, but no dark looks were tossed her direction. Not that she was all that surprised by that; the people on the base now knew who she was – she'd been with them almost two months, after all – and they all knew her history, and knew that she was dangerous. Far more dangerous to a System Lord, of course, but none of them wanted to run the risk of pissing her off and maybe having her holding a grudge against them.

Which of course, she wouldn't.

But they don't need to know that, right?

Exactly.

She didn't mind the reputation. For one thing, it kept would be suitors away. The people on the base were young, and healthy, which meant that they had libidos. And Mitchell didn't mind this, as long as they all kept their libidos to themselves – or at least away from her. For another, if something ever did happen on the base, she knew that they'd obey an order from her immediately, without questioning it – and that might save their lives.

Sheppard walked over to stand beside her and Beckett as everyone filed away, and he grinned.

"They're doing pretty well."

"They're doing great."

"We might want to start using empty weapons. It'd have a different feel for them if they were carrying something that was capable of killing them – instead of a stick."

"I have McKay working on rigging up some kind of laser tag thing, so we can fire at them – and they can fire at us, of course – and if we get hit the laser beeps and lets them know."

"Good idea."

"Of course it's a good idea."

He smiled and gave her a mock salute.

"I'm going to go find Ford and see how he's doing with his group – maybe even kill a few of them. Want to come?"

She shook her head – she was tired of dealing with whining civilians, and was ready for a little relaxation.

"I'm going to go read, or something."

"You stay away from my book."

"I already read it. Want me to tell you how it ends?"

He held his stick up, obviously threatening to 'kill' her, and she grinned and shooed him away.

As they watched him leave, Carson turned to Mitchell.

"You're going to go read?"

She shrugged.

"Unless you have something else in mind?"

And wasn't that just a double-edged statement? Carson knew she hadn't meant for it to be, though, and he smiled.

"A cup of coffee and some company?"

Melony smiled. How well he knew her.

"Sounds like a plan. The commissary or my quarters?" Those were the only two places that had coffee pots, after all.

"The commissary. Then we can have something to eat, as well."

She wasn't all that hungry, but she nodded. She could probably be talked into eating something.

"Let's go."