I know what you're thinking. And I don't think Major Sheppard would appreciate hearing it so you'd best to keep your mouth shut! He didn't chicken out on telling Caldwell off, believe me. In fact, while he was busy searching the command centre up and down for our villain, rehearsing over and over in his mind the violent array of words he was going to use (because that was as close as the word "violent" was going to get to anything), he happened to cross by Weir's office.
Dr. Weir was busy going over a stack of reports; some of them were scientific, some of them were about new parts of the city, and some of them were just blank pieces of paper so that she could look busy. Her computerized reports were of the same long tedious dribble, occasionally spruced up by exciting, awe-inspiring, self-important epics written by Dr. McKay (he told me to say this at gun-point; and further told me to add "gunpoint" – as we can assume he had no gun.) Luckily, computerized reports were much easier for Weir to get through because instead of blank paper, she surfed the net. Indeed at the time Sheppard stopped by her office, she was chatting on MSN; her screen name read: Wraith-Hater Girl…Live from the Pegasus Galaxy!
She caught him standing outside, scanning the area as though he had a steel bat in his hands…a steel bat that he was planning to hit someone with…Maybe even to death. Weir looked again, just to make sure he really didn't have a steel bat in his hands.
"John? You alright?" She shut her laptop.
He whirled around and entered.
"No, incidentally, I'm not. Where the hell is Caldwell?"
"I have no idea. I got the morning memo on the email, though. Did you read it?" She stifled a laugh.
"No, why? Who did he accuse in it?"
"Oh, nobody. It just said…Black, Bloody Mutiny and kind of trailed off in gibberish letters from there – like he just had a heart attack before he sent it." She paused. "He didn't have a heart attack did he?"
"No, no such luck."
"John," Weir lightly warned.
"I'm trying to find him. I want this ridiculous charade to end. Did you know he just ordered Ford to reorganize the entire Arms Locker?"
Weir sat back, aghast. "That's insane. That would take all day. And for that ridiculous accusation?"
"Yes!" Sheppard ran a hand through his dark hair, causing it to stand up even more. "I'm going to give Caldwell a piece of my mind."
Weir straightened, stepping out from her desk. She hated to be the bad guy, telling Sheppard what he could and could not do – especially when he goes ahead to do it anyway – but she had to warn him.
"John, you've got to play this safe. Colonel Caldwell has the authority and power with the SGC to kick you off of the expedition, so don't give him a reason. You've got to keep clear of things as much as you can."
John was furious. "Elizabeth, you should have heard what he was – "
"John, No."
"But he was –"
"No!"
He made to abruptly turn around but ended up turning on the spot. He leaned across the desk, agitated. "What do you want me to do, then?"
"I don't know. Try helping Aiden get through the work; maybe there will still be time to salvage the P38X4 mission. Until then, we wait for Dr. Beckett's findings."
Sheppard breathed through his teeth, trying to calm the fire within him. "He better hope there is something medically wrong with him or I'll –"
"John, NO."
Okay. So, there you have it. He really was going to clock that Caldwell good. Or at least give us some good verbal damage. But, Weir, as always, was the wind of caution. She didn't want to see Sheppard get sent away or receive court martial anymore than Sheppard did, and she knew well enough that the sort of military leaders sent from Earth were bastards enough to do it. So does Weir secretly fancy John Shepard? I sure as hell hope not! I mean, whom would you rather have as your ranking officer?
A dreamy young officer with perpetual bed-hair, has strong Ancient gene, natural pilot, funny and nice, gets along with everyone, relates to people, compassionate
Or…
An angry OLD officer, with no hair, no ancient gene, probably sucks at decisions because he's so pompous, isn't nice or funny, tries to come on to Weir in horrifying manners, doesn't relate to anyone (and doesn't want to) and is only compassionate about being a jerk.
There we have it: it's either Sheppard or some jerk. You see? She really doesn't love Sheppard at all. She loves Solitaire; and with solitaire, her life is too full for anything else.
Now, Shep and Teyla…what's that? The plot? Oh…
So, we fast-forward the story to the point where Caldwell has given Colonel Sheppard a 36-Hour Straight watch-duty. Incidentally, Ford was also told to reorganize the Arms Locker again – but in a new order.
And so it began. Sheppard angrily stormed off to the Control Room to begin his watch duty. Weir apologized to him repeatedly and kept trying to say that it would be over soon – but Caldwell didn't like this at all, and told him that he was not to be seen having conversations with the crew.
"There's no need to inspire further rebelliousness in others," he snarled. Caldwell spent the remainder of the day lurking above the balconies of the gate room, watching with an obvious smirk as Sheppard walked back and forth in tedium, patrolling. Though patrolling what, you've got me. If Caldwell thought watch-duty was important, it probably means that it really wasn't.
Sheppard counted down the hours, becoming weary from standing for so long. His evening break for food was isolated and hurried, and he was back to his post far too quickly. By the time the sky had completely darkened, Caldwell had gone off to his quarters for the night. A faint wave of relief swept over Sheppard and he leaned heavily against a wall, closing his eyes for just an instant. The warm scent of coffee fluttered up into his nose.
Wait, coffee?
Sheppard cracked open his closed eyes and stood to attention, internally afraid that it had been Caldwell. But it was Teyla…oh, and McKay. Well that seemed to ruin it.
"I thought you could be using this. We heard what happened," she handed it to him with a warm smile.
Sheppard wanted to grab Teyla at that very moment and just KISS HER. You know why? Because he goddamn well likes Teyla, not Weir! That's why!…Okay, so he was actually just thinking what a relief it was to have them in his company. He had a horrid day, after all. He even missed out on the Caves planet.
"Thanks guys, but if you're caught by Caldwell talking to me…"
"Forget about Caldwell," Teyla said. "He does not frighten me in the least. I'll talk to you if I wish – I'm not one of his officers. Though I do not wish anything more to happen to you, so I won't be long."
Sheppard glowed on the inside. But then he looked at McKay and that nice, warm, glowing feeling sort of dissipated.
"Why you with Teyla, Rodney?" He looked at him suspiciously.
"What ever do you mean? Why do you ask? I just came down here to see, uh, how you were doing."
"Right. Why's he with you, Teyla," Sheppard turned to Teyla.
"Because a sergeant by the name of Hobbes has been assigned to monitor all research labs."
Sheppard blinked. "And?"
"And? And?" Rodney sputtered as if he were being ridiculed. "And the man's a brute. A bully!"
An amusing realization hit Sheppard at that point. "Ooh, so you need Teyla to kick some ass for you."
"I am perfectly capable of handling things myself," Rodney snapped, still stuttering.
"You stutter when you say that – leaves me to believe otherwise," he humoured, with an upturn to his voice.
Teyla turned to look at Sheppard with a slight tilt so that Rodney couldn't see her raise an amused eyebrow; it was an affirming look that yes, Rodney needed Teyla to kick some proverbial ass.
"He threatened you physically?" Sheppard became serious for the moment.
"Yes! And when I confronted Caldwell he went all nutty on me. He's not going to call off his goons."
"He has goons now? Who are they?"
Teyla shifted what looked like a book under her arm and shook her head, "We do not yet know all of the names."
"Here," McKay thrust a modified headset into Sheppard's other hand. "Scrambled channels. But the headsets won't register as anything being changed," he added with a lowered voice. "We're working on a plan as we speak."
"Who's we?" Sheppard blinked.
"God, you're so thick sometimes," McKay stared at him and stalked off.
Sheppard shrugged and gulped some coffee, and then turning to Teyla said, "It was because I laughed at him."
She nodded with a smile and then remembered about the book tucked under her arm. She pulled it out and handed it to him.
"What's this?"
"You left it in the gym locker, I thought you could use it over the course of the night." It was Sheppard's book, War and Peace.
Sheppard took it and smiled, feeling the heat in his ears. "Thanks, I could certainly use a good read…over the…course of the…long…night. It's a really challenging book…because…I like…challenges." His ears went a shade of red at that point, with awkward twisting in his stomach.
"I'm impressed. A man that appreciates literature."
The twisting increased. He was never usually alone with Teyla aside from sparring in the gym. At least sparring in the gym was more physical and consisted of less awkward chatter ---OKAY! Woa, enough-- my ears! I don't know where Sheppard was going with that line of thought but we're going to move on now. Let's see…
McKay came back!
Yes. McKay came skipping back down into the Gate Room, looking a little blanched and red as if he had been running.
"Hobbes, he's um, following me," he snapped his fingers behind him, panting. Then he caught sight of the book in Sheppard's hands. "What's this, you reading War and Peace?" He snatched the book out of Sheppard's hands before he could say anything, flipping through it.
"And I was just commenting on how I did not realize the colonel's passion for literature," Teyla beamed.
"Oh, yeah, he's a real...smart one, he is," McKay cleared his throat with a slight cough and slapped the book back in Sheppard's stomach. "Except, you better find out who vandalized your book."
"What?" Teyla looked at McKay, alarmed.
He looked at Sheppard. "You do know that someone has glued Garfield comic strips to every page of that book?"
26 more hours to go…
YOU HAVE NOW REACHED THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR. CONTINUE ON TO CHAPTER FIVE (ONCE IT'S THERE) OR CALDWELL WILL BE KNOCKING ON YOUR DOOR.