First, I want to thank you for all the support and encouragement. I had a hard time getting started on this one, but you guys have made me very glad that I did.
Oh, I forgot something important in chapter one. I need to thank Rogue1503, even though she told me not to. She is my beta on this and has made some really awesome suggestions that got incorporated, greatly improving the final product. Mistakes are still all mine, but she's helping with the good stuff. Thanks!
Chapter Two
The team walked silently to the mess hall, where each gathered a tray of food. They found a table and sat down together, their movements slow and deliberate. They weren't sure if no one bothered them because they could see how tired the team was or because they looked and smelled so rough. None of them cared. They all had the same thought - eat and go to bed. They ate in silence for several minutes.
McKay closed his eyes and smiled. "Mmmmmm...food...finally. Do you realize this is the first real meal we've had in four days? I don't know about you guys, but I'm famished." The expression on his face as he chewed announced to all that he was savoring every bite. "Ya know, this stuff isn't half bad. I think I like the..."
He looked up to see Sheppard, potato-laden fork in hand, with his eyes closed and slowly starting to drift forward and downward.
"Colonel!" Sheppard's eyes snapped open as his head jerked up, causing him to grimace.
"What? Don't yell at me, McKay. I'm right here." He rubbed his neck and twisted his head to the side. "Oh," he groaned. "Whiplash again."
"Well, I wouldn't have to yell at you if you'd quit going to sleep in your food like a five-year old. I thought you were going to do a nose-dive into your mashed potatoes."
"I wasn't asleep," Sheppard said defensively. "I was...thinking about something."
McKay rolled his eyes. "Oh, p-l-ease. I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night. Next time I'll let you continue "thinking" until your face is in your plate."
Sheppard sat there looking at his plate for a minute before putting his fork down and standing up. "I give. I can't keep my eyes open another minute. I'll eat something later. Good night guys! See you tomorrow...if I'm awake by then."
Teyla looked at McKay. "But it is not night."
"Earth expression. Just means he's going to bed. You usually go to bed at night, hence the saying, 'Good night'. We tend to say that, even if it's not actually night."
Teyla nodded and continued eating. McKay pulled Sheppard's tray over to his side of the table. "Can't let good food go to waste."
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Sheppard had almost made it to the door of his quarters when a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and a lab coat flagged him down.
"Colonel Sheppard! You're just the man I need to see. We need to borrow you for a few minutes."
Sheppard stared at the woman, trying to remember her name. She seemed to sense his confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry. You probably don't remember me. I think we've only briefly met once. I'm Dr. Rita Marshall."
"O...kay. Who is 'we' and why do you need me? I've been off-world for four days, and to be perfectly honest, I'm exhausted."
"Well, Dr. Warren and I just need you to sit in the Ancient chair that operates the weapons for a while. We've found a device that attaches to the chair and we think it either increases the accuracy or the range of the drones. We have to analyze it while it's powered up, though, and no one else seems capable of completely powering up the chair. We've actually been on hold for two days waitingfor you to get back. Please, Colonel, just for a while. All you have to do is sit in the chair." Her eyes pleaded with him.
He rubbed his hand across his face and realized he was way past a five o'clock shadow and working on the beginnings of a beard. His mind wandered a minute as he considered the possibility of a beard. He should do it just to irritate Rodney. He almost laughed until Dr. Marshall cleared her throat rather loudly, abruptly bringing his attention back into focus.
"Doctor...I'm tired...I'm hungry...I'm dirty and I stink. I really just want a shower and a bed for about 20 hours."
"Please, Colonel. We've been on pins and needles for two whole days waiting for you to get back. It's really important or I wouldn't ask. All you have to do is sit...please..."
Sheppard was already mentally kicking himself as he gave in. "Okay...just for a little while." He sighed heavily as he followed the scientist down the hall and wondered exactly when he had lost control of the situation.
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Dr. Stanley Warren looked up as Dr. Marshall entered the chair room, chatting excitedly. She was followed by a very tired looking Colonel Sheppard. Warren was slightly taken aback by the dirty, sweaty uniform, bloodshot eyes complete with dark circles, and several days worth of beard growth. Somehow he had always envisioned the off world missions as some glamorous, exciting adventure straight out of the movie of the week. He'd never actually seen the shape the team members sometimes returned in. He decided right then and there that he was perfectly happy working right here in Atlantis. He found himself feeling sorry for the somewhat haggard individual before him.
"My God, Rita,...did you not even let the man get a shower?"
Dr. Marshall looked hurt. "Hey, I got him to come, didn't I?"
"He's exhausted! Colonel, I'm sorry...this can wait..."
"No, it can't. This is important," she insisted.
Sheppard's head was really starting to throb and he figured anything was better than listening to the two scientists argue. He wondered briefly if this is what Beckett felt like when he and McKay went at it. He probably owed the man about a million apologies. "Wait! Stop! Please...just stop. I'm here now and this isn't helping my headache. Let's just do this so I can go to bed."
They stood silently for a few moments before Dr. Warren said, "Okay...Colonel, if you'll just sit in the chair."
Sheppard obeyed and the chair instantly lit up and leaned back into a reclining position.
"That's good," said Dr. Marshall. "If you'll just stay there, we're going to attach our computers to the accessory device and take some readings."
"I can do that," Sheppard said quietly.
Sheppard suddenly sat up. "Wait...I'm really tired and...having a hard time focusing right now...Is there any chance I could...you know...inadvertently set off the drones or anything? I'd hate to destroy Atlantis because I let my mind wander."
"No," said Dr. Warren. "We've disconnected the weaponry to avoid any accidents either from your end or ours. We didn't want to take any chances of our probing setting off the weapons either. It's perfectly safe."
"Oh...okay." Sheppard relaxed and leaned back in the chair. "Just checking."
The two scientists kneeled beside the back panel on the chair and began working. Sheppard let his mind wander for a few minutes before he ended up replaying the events of the deadly mission that had taken Joe Taylor's life, trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. An hour later, the scientists were still hard at work when the chair lost power and shut off.
Dr. Marshall popped up immediately. "Colonel, what happened?" She looked down at Sheppard, who was fast asleep. Exasperated, she shook his shoulder. "Colonel, wake up."
Sheppard blinked several times before he got his eyes open. "W...What?"
"Colonel, you have to wake up! The chair won't stay powered up if you go to sleep," she said.
"Oh...sorry...guess I drifted off." He yawned and rubbed his eyes. For a moment he wished his head would just go ahead and explode. Let Dr. Rita try to keep the chair powered up with his brains splattered all over it. He laughed out loud at the thought.
"Colonel...is something funny?" she asked sternly.
"Sorry..." he said sheepishly. "Just having...weird thoughts...I'll try to stay awake."
Dr. Marshall nodded. "Well, please do."
He thought about saluting, but decided that wasn't the best course of action. He grinned as she sat back down in the floor and resumed her work. He felt...silly...giddy. He supposed it was from the lack of sleep. He could hear the two scientists arguing about something and he focused on their voices, trying desperately to stay awake. He succeeded for a while, but then his thoughts faded back to the planet. Soon, he was back with his team, running from the wraith. McKay was dialing the gate as he brought up the rear, firing against the approaching enemy. Suddenly, he felt something brush against him and his arm shot out, his hand closing around the throat of a wraith.
"Colonel! Colonel, let go!"
The frantic, pleading voice was not that of a wraith, and the wraith face faded away, slowly being replaced by the terrified face of Rita Marshall. Dr. Warren was pulling on his arm and begging him to let go.
He jerked his hand back and pulled away from her, his eyes wide in confusion and fear. "I...I'm ...sorry..." he stammered, trying to climb out of the Ancient chair. " I was...dreaming of the wraith...didn't realize it was you..."
Dr. Marshall was rubbing her throat, nervously watching Sheppard's retreat. Dr. Warren seemed to have calmed her down a little. "It's okay Colonel," he said. "We understand...no harm done. I think it's best if we continue this another time so that you can get some rest."
Sheppard, grateful for the dismissal, nodded. "Yes...you're right...another time. Once again...I'm sorry about that...reflex action...Are you okay?"
He moved to step forward, causing Rita to flinch back against Dr. Warren. "I...I'm okay, Colonel. Like he said...no harm done. It just...startled me."
Sheppard nodded and then looked at the floor a second in embarrassment before moving to leave. He mumbled "I'm sorry," one more time as he left.
Dr. Warren turned to Rita Marshall as soon as Sheppard was gone. "I told you to leave the man alone until he got some sleep. He was dead on his feet."
"Well, he didn't have to strangle me to make the point," she retorted.
"Oh...I don't know about that. Sometimes I think that may be the only way to get your attention. I 've thought about trying it myself a time or two."
"Well!" she huffed as she stormed off.
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Sheppard walked quickly down the hall, anxious to get to his quarters and silently berating himself as he went. Relations between the military and scientific communities were often strained and he hadn't helped that situation at all. He half expected to find soldiers at his door, waiting to arrest him for assault or worse, but the hall was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief as his door opened.
"Colonel!"
He froze. Okay, maybe he wasn't out of the woods just yet. He slowly turned around, expecting the worst. One young soldier was hurrying down the hall, looking very worried. Sheppard relaxed and leaned against the door frame, resting his head against the edge.
"Colonel, sir, I have a problem, sir...and sir, I need your help."
Sheppard thought with dismay that the boy looked to be about twelve. He cringed when he realized that probably meant he was getting old...well, old for a soldier. Career military people had a somewhat shortened life expectancy compared to the general population and he was sure that being in the Pegasus Galaxy cut a few more years off of that.
He opened his mouth to reply and then closed it, realizing he had almost called the young marine 'son'. He wasn't sure if that came from being around Beckett so much or was a product of his 'old age' thoughts. He had to focus.
"I think you just called me sir three times in one sentence...or at least in one thought." His mind wandered off to sentence structure for a moment before he noticed the young soldier looking at him expectantly. He really had to quit having these bird walking mind trips or people would think he was losing it.
"I'm taking it something is wrong. Care to share?"
"Y...y...yes, sir," he responded nervously. "I...uh...that is...there are six handguns missing from the last weapons shipment."
"Define missing," Sheppard said evenly as he straightened up, fully awake now.
"Well, sir...we cataloged stuff as it was removed from the Daedalus yesterday, but I'm just now unpacking and stowing things. When I unpacked the handgun crate, there were six less than the inventory says there should be."
Sheppard rubbed his forehead, realizing that his headache had expanded to the point he felt his eyeballs were about to pop out of his head.
"Sir, are you okay?"
"No, son..." Oh, crap. Did he just say son? "No,...I"m tired...I'm hungry...I'm dirty...and apparently I'm going with you to look for guns."
"I'm ...I'm sorry, sir. I thought you'd want to know."
"I do. You did the right thing. Let's go have a look." He stepped out of the doorway and heard the door slide shut behind him. He'd been so close.
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An hour and a half later, Sheppard and Sgt. Jennings had just unpacked the last crate of weapons with no sign of the missing guns. Sheppard looked around the room, aware that the adrenalin rush from earlier had long ago worn off and his energy was fading fast.
"What is that?" he asked Jennings, pointing to a large wooden crate filled with packing material.
"Oh, that was the only crate we unpacked yesterday. It had the larger weapons in it."
Sheppard walked over to the crate and looked in. It was relatively large and stood about four feet tall. He bent over head first into the crate, digging through the packing material until his head and arms disappeared. Jennings thought for a minute that his CO was going to flip over backwards into the crate when Sheppard seemed to lose his footing. Jennings wasn't sure if it was acceptable procedure to grab your CO by the belt or not. As he decided he should probably do something and began to move forward, Sheppard suddenly came up out of the crate and stood up.
As soon as Sheppard was vertical, the wave of dizziness hit him hard and his vision grayed. The world tilted and he felt his butt hit the ground hard, jarring his teeth. "Ah, crap!" He sat there a second as his vision slowly cleared.
Jennings was kneeling beside him, staring worriedly. "Are you okay, Colonel? Should I call Dr. Beckett?"
"Heck, no! Head rush, Sgt. Apparently you shouldn't stand on your head several minutes and then stand up real fast." He rubbed his hip and winced. "Kind of hard on the posterior, if you get my drift. On the plus side, I may have found your missing guns."
They both looked at the rectangular box in Sheppard's lap that he had retrieved from the depths of the crate. He opened the lid to reveal six handguns packed in foam.
"And there you go! Your missing handguns. Sometimes they double pack a crate to keep from having to add an extra one. You've just gotta know where to look."
"Oh thank you Colonel Sheppard! I thought I was going to get court-martialed for sure."
The two men stood up and Sheppard handed the marine the box. "Make sure you get those properly recorded and stowed away, Sgt."
"Yes, sir. And thank you, sir. I'm sorry to waste your time with this."
"No problem. Just check more thoroughly next time. And please, hold it together for a few more hours. I really need some sleep."
"Yes, sir!" The marine saluted and Sheppard very loosely returned the salute. As Sheppard left the room, Jennings whispered, "Good night, sir."
TBC