Strange Bedfellows
A/N: Okay all you shippy fangirls you, just hold your horses one darn second! There's still and entire chapter left after this one. Anything could happen. :) Alexiamanda: don't stay up too late, lol. Jamieson Z: you're too nice! All of you, too nice!
Chapter 24: Hair Pins and Squirt Guns
Nine Days Later
After straightening his tie on his dress blue uniform, John attempted to straighten out his perpetually tousled hair. He ran a comb through it, and after two minutes of styling he got it to look just the way he wanted: exactly as it had looked two minutes ago. Pleased with the results, though, the pilot put the finishing touches on his jacket: a silver pair of wings, his Air Force ribbons, and his golden oak leaves.
The door to his room opened quietly and he made his way down the hallway to Elizabeth's quarters. While he had been recovering in the infirmary, she had been hurriedly working out a deal with the remaining Klaans - the honest, well-meant ones John and his team had thought they had met the first time around. They truly were the simple people Elizabeth had come to respect, and she had felt she owed them an explanation of the truth.
With the help of Ford and the rest of the team, she had explained to them what their former leader Hergon had been up to behind their backs. Naturally, they were shocked at the revelation - and some even rebuffed it - but some gentle persuasion encouraged them to visit the ruins just outside their village. Once they were convinced the ruins were not in fact cursed, the locals were able to learn of the treachery their past commander had taken part in.
And of course, now that the Alliance had been broken, the Klaans were afraid the Wraith would return to their village to cull their people - and their fear was justified. But the Atlanteans, with superior firepower and technology, agreed to protect the town as best they could from their common enemy. A new alliance had been formed.
And so, after several more tedious days of negotiations with the new Klaan leader Turin, Elizabeth was able to finally strike a deal for food. Of course, she had done so from the safety of Atlantis via a radio and the Stargate - at John's insistence. If he had it his way, she would never set foot off the base again.
Tonight was the night of the grand ceremonial feast. Hopefully this one will go better than the last one did, John thought as he continued to walk the corridors of the city. Atlantis had insisted on hosting this time, disguising their concern for security with politeness and courtesy. The Klaans had thought nothing of it and gladly accepted. But they would be providing the food for tonight's festivities, given the Earthling's lack thereof.
As he closed in on her quarters, John began to have doubts about what he was going to do. Was it the right thing? The proper thing? In any case, he was growing more nervous with each step. Stop it, you're acting like a high schooler.
He rapped his knuckles against her door. "Just a second," was the muffled reply, and John heard things being moved around and drawers being shut. There would be a few more seconds before she answered the door, a few more seconds for him to escape. He eyed the surrounding hallway. No one was around and there was a room to the left he could duck into. Perfect. He was still a little stiff, but if he could just-
The door opened and caught John by surprise. What really caught his attention, though, was the figure standing in it. Elizabeth wore a simple yet elegant crimson dress which hugged her figure nicely. Dainty earrings, which she was just finishing putting on, along with a solitary diamond necklace accented her outfit.
"John," she stated, obviously surprised.
He started to breathe again. "Wow," was all he could say after he closed his jaw. He mentally kicked himself for the comment.
Instantly her expression relaxed into a smile. "Spoken like a true flyboy," she chided. Elizabeth motioned for him to come in. "You're looking pretty spiffy yourself, Major," she teased. She couldn't say what she really was thinking at that moment or she knew he would never let her live it down.
"Ah, must be the uniform."
There was an awkward silence between them and John found himself glancing around the room uncomfortably. Truth be told, they hadn't seen much of each other over the past week, almost as if each was avoiding the other. In their determination to maintain a purely professional relationship, they became too careful of one another, almost overdoing it in some cases. They wouldn't joke in public as they had before, he never questioned her orders, and she found herself more often than not addressing him by his rank instead of his first name. Elizabeth cursed herself. In many ways, it was worse than before the Klaan incident. Not only had they gone back to being just friends - just boss and chief of military personnel - they had also lost whatever spark there had been between them. She didn't want that.
"Oh, here's your jacket back." Elizabeth had forgotten to give it to him earlier. Maybe part of her subconscious had wanted to hold on to it.
"Right. Thanks," he said, taking the jacket from her. John noticed she hadn't washed it; it was still slightly dirty and dusty from their flee from the Darts.
They went back to standing in silence.
As she searched for something to say to break the tension, a thought popped into her mind. "So what are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be recovering in your quarters?" Elizabeth wasn't trying to get rid of him; she was genuinely concerned for his well-being. Although Beckett had released him from the infirmary yesterday, the doctor had confined him to his room until he had gotten stronger.
John balked. "I, uh.… Well, as you know - I mean, of course you know, you're the leader of Atlantis and you did all the trade negotiations…."
Elizabeth smiled at his uneasiness. She found it charming and a little refreshing. Here was a man who would fly behind enemy lines, willingly go into a Wraith Hive Ship, and take on a platoon of Wraith if need be, yet he was afraid to talk to the girl. Beautiful, she thought. Amused, she didn't put him out of his misery just yet but let him continue.
"Anyway, since the big party's tonight, I was, uh…. I was just… well, you know… wondering…." He looked down at his shoes as he twisted his foot absent-mindedly. It reminded Elizabeth of a schoolboy. "Since this is obviously important to you… would you like - I mean, would you mind… would you like to go with me tonight?" The last part came out in one big rush.
There. He had said it. Immediately after the words escaped his mouth, John cringed. Dammit, I am such an ass. I sounded like Rain Man.
Elizabeth stepped toward him and suppressed the urge to laugh. "Like a date?" she taunted.
John recognized she was purposely persecuting him. He was surprised he hadn't begun to sweat bullets already. Gulping, he replied. "Yes. No. I mean-"
"I'd love to." She decided to spare him the humiliation of verbally arguing with himself. Before she had realized she had broken her personal policy, to remain professional at all times, Elizabeth had agreed. And what she found… curious, was how easily she had allowed herself to do it. It's just a harmless dinner party, was the excuse she used. It was a lame one, she knew, but at the moment she didn't particularly care.
John sighed with relief. Loudly.
"John Sheppard," she playfully pestered him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were actually nervous about asking me."
Would his torment ever stop? "You just couldn't resist, could you? All right, you've had your fun."
"I know, I'm sorry," she offered.
"No, you're not," John suspected.
"You're right, I'm not." She broke into a broad grin. Stepping even closer to him, she straightened his ribbons and let her hand rest on his chest. Elizabeth couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked tonight.
John didn't pull away. Nor did he pull away when she reached up and touched his left cheek.
"You still have a hint of a black eye."
"I know. I'm going to ruin all the photos," he playfully pouted.
"Not once I'm done with you, you're not." Elizabeth pulled him into the bathroom and stood him in front of the mirror.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Just hold still," she answered as she concentrated. Selecting the right shade, she began to apply makeup under John's left eye.
"Oh, God…" he murmured. This was torture. He was actually wearing makeup. "Don't say a word to Ford. He'll lose all respect for me and start with the blackmail. McKay either. Or Teyla. Or Beckett." He paused. "Come to think of it, don't say anything to anyone."
"You're secret's safe with me." She could only imagine how hard it was for a stick jockey like him to endure something so feminine. If only your fellow pilots could see you now. After adding the last touches, she finished. "There. All done, pretty boy."
Elizabeth turned him toward the mirror and they both admired her handiwork. There were no traces whatsoever of the black eye.
"Wow," he said, surprised. John inspected her work; it was flawless. "Thanks."
"Sure. You know, I've got some extra dresses and hair clips if you'd like…."
John matched her grin. "You don't stop, do you?" He didn't mind. This was the first time they had actually felt comfortable in each other's presence since returning, and it took turning him halfway into a woman to do so.
"Actually, there was something I wanted to run by you," John continued.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, and I might need those hair clips after all."
The night had been mostly uneventful thus far. The dinner, while… interesting, had been rigid and formal. And although the Klaans were valuable partners and honorable people, the Atlanteans agreed they were as dry as a saltine cracker. John didn't think he had met as boring a group of people in his life. They hadn't even cracked a smile once when he had thrown out one of his jokes in a failed attempt to keep the event upbeat. They hadn't even liked the one about the Wraith priest, rabbi, and minister who walked into a bar, he thought sadly. Even McKay likes that one.
Most of the conversation had been filled with apologies from the Klaan leader Turin. He had sincerely asked for forgiveness from John and Elizabeth on several occasions. They had both told him to forget about the entire episode, that it wasn't the man's fault, but he persisted. John didn't know if he could take anymore apologies tonight.
After the feast - hardly any of the Atlanteans had touched the peculiar food - the two factions moved from the briefing room/temporary dining hall to the Gate room and the surrounding balconies. It was a large gathering, a few hundred people in all from both cultures. John was pleased to see his people mingling freely with the Klaans.
He spotted Elizabeth in the far corner, making small talk with Turin. She looked bored to tears, but nodded politely and smiled anyway. John figured yearsof being a politician must have given her practice at pretending she was interested when she in fact was not. He counted the times that skill could have came in handy for him, and all of McKay's briefings came to mind.
Elizabeth made eye contact with him and sent him an S.O.S.. The discrete look she shot him screamed, "Help me!"
Immediately, he made his way over to the pair. As he passed Beckett, he noticed the displeased look the doctor shot him, probably for breaking his curfew, and decided it best to keep on walking. "Excuse me," he interjected as he reached Turin. "May I borrow Dr. Weir for a sec? She's needed in the control room."
"Of course," Turin replied warmly.
John offered her his arm and the two escaped.
When they had rounded the corner, Elizabeth leaned against the wall. "Thanks for the rescue. You have no idea how boring that guy is." She rolled her eyes.
"Elizabeth Weir," he began in a mock-scolding tone. Now it was his turn to tease. "You're a diplomat. You aren't supposed to say things like that."
She thought for a moment. "You're right. Do you still have your Beretta on you?"
"Yeah…." He always kept it on him.
"Next time? Shoot me."
John couldn't help but crack a smile at that one. Here was a side of her she didn't show often. "Hey, do you still have those hair pins with you?"
Elizabeth nodded and handed him a black case from her handbag.
"Then let's get to it," he said eagerly.
They walked out onto the floor of the Gate room and Sheppard took his place at the top of the stairs. "Everyone, listen up!" he yelled, but the noise from the surrounding conversations was too loud.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, Bates stepped up and let rip with a loud whistle. The sergeant had been avoiding his CO ever since he had returned, as had been Kavanagh. McKay had told John how both Bates and Kavanagh had been opposed to sending in a rescue party for either Elizabeth or him. It had angered him to no end. Bates, as a Marine should have know better than to leave anyone behind. He was going to deal with that son of a bitch soon enough, but right now he was in a good mood. He didn't want to let the sergeant spoil an otherwise pleasant evening.
Bates's whistle did the trick. The crowded Gate room turned to look at John.
"First off," he announced, "I want to thank everyone for being here tonight. I know recent events have cast a shadow over the issue of trust, but I'm confident that our new allies will prove to be valuable friends whom we can look forward to trading with."
He was met with polite applause. It was total BS and he knew it, but he needed to say something before continuing. John thought he was starting to sound more and more like those old fogey generals he had always made it a point of despising. God help me. Not one for long, drawn out speeches, he moved on.
"I also want to take this opportunity to do something… well, something I should have done a long time ago. So with Dr. Weir's and Turin's permission…?"
The two leaders nodded.
"Lieutenant Ford, front and center," John barked.
Ford nearly choked on the Athosian brew he had been drinking. Oh, crap. He wondered if his superior had found out that he had replaced one of his 9 mils with a squirt gun. It was just a joke. But he had only done so a few hours ago; how did he find out already? Ford bet McKay had told him, and Sheppard was going to bust him in front of all these people. "Oh, man…" he groaned to himself.
Dutifully, the lieutenant approached his CO at the top of the stairs. He could feel hundreds of eyes boring into the back of his neck. "Sir," he said stiffly as he reported to his commander.
John's wooden expression hadn't relaxed yet. He wanted to mess with the lieutenant a bit first. Pulling out the black case Elizabeth had given to him earlier from behind his back, he opened it and showed the contents to Ford. Inside were four one inch-long silver hair clips, grouped in two groups of two, and each sitting parallel to each other.
"I… I don't understand, sir," Aiden said. Did the major want him to put these in his hair or something?
Finally, John broke into a grin. "Captain's bars, Ford. We'll get you your official ones when we get back to Earth, but for now, these will have to do."
Aiden beamed at the 'insignias.' They may have been women's hair accessories, but he didn't care. He would wear them proudly. Ford wondered if his CO had intentionally picked a feminine adornment just to see if he would in fact wear them. "Thanks you, sir," he said genuinely. He cast a glance at Dr. Weir to see if she knew about this. The proud expression on her face indicated she did.
"You're quite welcome. Now," John announced as he opened the United States Marine Corps handbook and read from it. "'The President of the United States' - well, he isn't exactly here, is he?" This earned a chuckle from the crowd. They knew John was deviating from the guidelines once again and knew this promotion wasn't official. But John didn't really give a damn. When they got back to Earth, he'd make it official. It was the least he could do for his 2IC. Aiden was probably one of the youngest Captains in the Corps now, and the higher-ups wouldn't likethat little variation from the norm, but they could shove for all John cared. This young man had courage that belied his age… although he was still a kid at heart.
"So," the major continued, "'I have placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity, and abilities of Lieutenant Aiden Ford . In view of these qualities and his demonstrated potential for increased responsibiliy, Lt. Aiden Ford is therefore promoted to the grade of Captain, United States Marine Corps, this 28th of April, 2005.'"
A round of applause erupted from the room and the cluster of Marines on the upper balconies began to cheer wildly. Aiden looked like he was about to die of embarrassment. He mouthed, "Did you know about this?" to his two teammates, to which Teyla and Rodney both nodded. Elizabeth had told them several hours ago. Why didn't anyone tell me?
After the applause had died down, John proudly clipped the silver clasps onto Aiden's uniform. "Raise your right hand, Captain, and repeat after me." He began the traditional oath of enlistment all military personnel are required to recite upon promotion, with some minor modifications. "'I, insert name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States - and Atlantis - against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God. And the Ancestors, too.'"
Ford repeated the pledge, meaning every word of it. He knew he would have to do it all again back on Earth to make it official, but somehow this was better. The informal atmosphere, here with his closest friends, was infinitely better than some stuffy reception with some old desk jockeys.
Captain Ford finished and saluted the major, a gesture which he returned. A second round of applause, this one more deafening than the last, erupted.
"Congratulations, Captain. Long overdue."
"Thank you, sir," was all Ford could manage.
"Oh, and one more thing," John said before his 2IC could walk away. "I heard it through the grapevine that you shot Hergon."
Aiden tried to judge his superior's expression, but found it once again to be unreadable as ever. When he had pulled the trigger, he had figured the major would want Hergon alive to question, and perhaps to exact a little revenge. Ford thought he had made a mistake by killing him then and there.
"Yes, sir…" he answered cautiously.
"You… are one lucky son of a bitch," Major Sheppard said with a grin. He loved to yank Aiden's chain; it was just too much fun.
Ford sighed with relief. "Don't I know it, sir." With that, he went to join his fellow Marines on the balcony, who had by now burst into the Marine Corps Hymn. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli…."
John rolled his eyes and chuckled. Jarheads. Wait til Ford sees that I've swapped all his uniforms for ones three sizes too small.
TBC
Okay folks, one more chapter. And don't worry, it WILL be posted before I leave for Chicago. And no more cliffies, lol.
