Title: Pink casted and with a vengeance.

Pairing: None

Genre: Humor, mostly mischief.

Sequel of Musings of a man in Pain.

Summary: The pink cast was the beginning, but not the end of it.

A/N: Well... I had a bit of time today and I decided to type this chapter, which I've had for some time now. This is the sequel of my smallest story ever. But a lot of you asked for it. It will probably be 2 - 3 chapters long. This will be part of my Friends are Foes series, but you don't have to read the series to get this, just Musings. Thanks to Mel for the beta!

Enjoy!

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Chapter I: Allies

John Sheppard held on tightly to his crutches, having a cast on his leg had put a stop to all his regular activities. As he moved through the hallways of the city, the pink almost sparkled in the distance. It's been two weeks since the accident, and this whole ordeal was driving him mad already.

Revenge was something that could no longer wait. Because of Ford and Rodney, John had to endure the laughs and side comments about his choice of color of his cast. Now there were other things on his mind. And he knew of one person who might be able to help him in this miserable hour.

John made his way towards the laundry room, entering, he noticed that there weren't conventional washers and dryers around. The Atlantis version of a washer was as tall as a refrigerator, with a big square door in the middle. There were at least ten of these machines and as he looked closely the machines, he realized that they didn't appear to use any water. It seemed as though the machines used some kind of light from the inside.

John stopped, he wondered for a minute why the hell he was here. But then he remembered it was for a very specific reason; he needed help. This revenge was meant for the people he would have gone to if they weren't the ones involved in his misfortune. Elizabeth won't help him on something like this, at this moment he didn't know if Zelenka was a reliable ally or if Bates would be willing to do something like this. Only one person came to mind, Stella Roig; the one in charge of the laundry room, who had access to a lot of stuff and once admitted to John that she had pulled some nasty pranks in her time. John was hoping that he would be able to use to get her to help him.

John took another good look around; there were clothes everywhere, on the floor, bags of clothes on tables and inside all of the machines. John realized that this was the first time he had been in this room. However, the room looked completely devoid of human life. John did his best to walk through the mess until he gave up and resorted to shouting, "Stella! Are you here?"

An airman walked out of the back room and looked at John. "She's in the spare room, sir."

John frowned. "Spare room?"

The airman walked towards one of the washers and pressed a button, then he started taking clothes out, "Spare clothes, just walk outside and is right next door to the left."

John nodded and walked out, and slowly made his way towards the room next door. He opened the door and found that this other room just had cabinets and drawers in. John found Stella crouched down fixing some shirts on a drawer.

Feeling the door opening, Stella turned around and saw John, she smirked. "Hey Major! Nice cast!"

John gave Stella a sarcastic smile, and replied, "I knew you would like it."

Stella stood up and faced John. "So, what brings you to the spare room?"

For a moment John didn't wanted to bring the issue and looked around the room, "So, what's all this?"

"The name explains it pretty clear. If you need spares, you come to me. The military gave us some boxes filled with them. But they were unguarded and everyone who believed that a small spot on a shirt was reason enough to have a new one, were helping themselves, without restriction. And we're cut off from earth, now everyone who needs new clothes has to have a proper reason."

John raised an eyebrow. "Proper reason?"

Stella crossed her arms across her chest. "Accidents resulting in injuries which are infirmary worthy. You know they have a tendency of cutting the clothes off of people! Also, torn clothes, really old, damaged or burnt items, that kind of thing. Now that I think of it, it's a wonder that you haven't been down here sooner."

"Well, I made sure I had enough clothes in my room."

Stella eyed him suspiciously. "But you didn't come down here, with just one good leg, to talk about my work."

John gave her a small smile, "No, actually I didn't."

"What do you want?"

John tilted his head to the side and stared at Stella, "Do you know where I can get some of that itching powder you used?"

Stella opened her eyes, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right. And you didn't spray that stuff on Kavanagh's clothes a couple of months ago."

John was smiling, but Stella was dead serious, and John decided to try a new tactic, "Stella, look at my leg. I didn't tell Carson to give me a pink cast!"

Stella smiled. "I heard about what happened."

John shifted a bit, as much as he could with his crutches in the way. "So, will you help me?"

Stella stayed quiet for a minute, "Well... I can't do it. Because they'll know it was me. But I can get you some of the powder."

John now looked, pleading, "Come on Stella, I can't do this alone."

Stella started to close all the cabinets. "Major, if all the itchy clothes come from the laundry room, they will know."

John nodded, he knew what she was saying was true.

Then Stella continued giving John a most innocent look. "But if you spray it on their drawers, they might never know."

John smiled. "I can manage that. Just give me the tools and I'll do it. I just need some help."

Stella finished closing the remaining cabinets, and turned to John. "Ok, but I won't take part in any of it... except for helping to get you the powder."

John smiled. "It's only fair."

Stella returned the smile, "Alright! Let's do it, you pink-casted man!"

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Stella gave John a small container containing the itching powder, which had a faint reddish color. The plan was almost complete in his head. He would take his time in carrying out the revenge. John slowly made his way towards Rodney's lab.

Once there, he found Rodney deep in his work, Rodney looked up and eyed John suspiciously. "Hi... what are you doing here?"

John hid the smile that was threatening to get out and sat down across from Rodney. "Nothing..."

Rodney put down the Ancient object in his hand and stared at John, "It can't be just 'nothing'. Are you sure you don't have any thoughts of revenge in that head of yours?"

John shook his head. "No, that's in the past Rodney."

"Are you sure?"

"Rodney, it was a meaningless prank. I'm not going to die because I have a pink cast on my leg."

Rodney shifted nervously on the spot. "You sure looked as if you were having a heart attack when you saw me."

John leant back in his chair. "Ok, I admit I was angry... but I'm not anymore and I'm getting bored in being alone all the time."

"So... we're good?"

"We're fine."

Rodney relaxed and John stood up. "So, I see you at dinner?"

"Sure."

John turned around and walked out of the lab. Once outside, he made his way towards Ford's quarters.

Once there John knocked on the door, and Ford quickly opened, instantly giving John a nervous smile. "Sir... hi."

John sensed the tension in the young soldier. "At ease soldier, we're off duty."

Ford seemed to relax. "So, what brings you here sir?"

John looked around. "Nothing, I just wanted to talk with you. Can I come in?"

Ford hesitated for a moment, but then replied, "Sure, come in sir."

John had prepared a conversation in his mind, but before he said a word, Ford looked straight at him and said, "I'm sorry about your cast, sir. We never thought that you were going to react like you did."

John knew that Ford was feeling a bit bad about the prank. John had to admit it, at least to himself, he had gotten pretty angry. But for now, he was playing it cool, so he weaved a hand dismissing the apology, "It's ok, Lieutenant, don't worry about that." Then John looked around the room and noticed that on the desk there was a glass of water. His mind ran in record time and then noticed that the desk was besides the clothes cabinet. It was the perfect opportunity, John walked towards the desk specifically towards the chair. "What I'm here for is to ask you..." Trying to be as subtle as possible, John sat down, and knocked the glass to the floor, sending water and glass all over the desk. John tried to look shocked and apologetic. "Damn it! I'm sorry."

Ford acted quickly. "No worries, sir. Let me clean it up."

Ford went into the bathroom and John took a moment to spray some of the powder on the bed.

Ford came out of the bathroom with a towel and started cleaning the mess.

John put on his sorry face again, trying to hide the grin that was forming on his mouth, "I'm sorry, I guess that with these-" he pointed at the cast and crutches. "-I can't move as well as I thought."

Ford was finishing picking up the glass pieces from the floor when he replied, "It was my bad, for keeping the glass there, sir."

John didn't say anything else; instead he took a look around the room, then at the clothes cabinet. He wondered which the underwear drawer was. Something told him to try the first one, so when Ford returned to the bathroom, John quickly opened the drawer and there it was. Then he sprayed some of the powder inside and closed it quickly. When Ford walked back into the room, John stood up and grabbed his crutches. "I think I have caused enough damage here for today."

"It's fine, sir"

John took a step towards the door and stopped for a moment, "Want to join me in the rec room. I'm watching the football tape."

"Sure."

John smiled and walked out of the room with Ford behind him. He smiled inwardly, phase one was complete.

TBC...