A/N - Firstly I just want to rectify my mistake in omitting to tell you that the song Shep was singing in the last chapter was Folsom Prison Blues by (of course) Johnny Cash. Secondly, I'm afraid I can't comment on any reviews left because I haven't been unable to view them but please don't let that stop you from leaving them, all feedback is most welcome especially as this is my first fic.

With this chapter I'm going to really annoy you all because it's (a) incredibly short (even by my standards) & (b) no Shep. Sorry again! This may seem a little bit out of place and I did think about removing this aspect of the story, but in the end decided to leave it in. To make it up to you I'll post the next chapter up later this evening. After that the rate of updates will slow down a bit I'm afraid but I'll try to not keep you hanging too long.

Chapter 2

Shooting The Messenger

She parked the hire car at the top of the road and walked, hoping to clear her head, or maybe just delay the moment. She didn't have to be here, could have left it to someone else, but she had insisted; she wanted to be the one to do this, needed to be the one. That did not, however, make it any easier. The wind whipped the fallen leaves up into little whirlpools around her feet. It was a beautiful day; the kind of perfect autumn day where the sky was high and pale and you could taste winter in the air.

Part of her wanted to keep walking, just go straight past and carry on, but where would she go? Earth was no longer her home. She looked around at the old lady pruning the roses on her porch and the kids playing an improvised version of baseball in the street and thought, if only they knew. If only they knew, the places I've been, the things I've seen, the things I've done. She was an alien visitor on the planet of her birth, her home far away beyond the stars. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over her. Swallowing back hard and closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath of the cold air, trying to calm the tightening knot in her stomach.

The house she was looking for was at the end of the avenue, every bit as picture perfect as its neighbours. She hesitated for a moment before walking up the path, then walked quickly to the door and rang the bell. She stood and waited; a minute passed before she saw a shadow moving through the frosted glass. She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her mind but now it was here she suddenly felt unsure. Part of the reason she held the position she did now was down to her communication skills but they deserted her when the door in front of her opened and she found herself looking into hazel eyes.

ooOoo

The house was as impeccably neat on the inside as it was on the outside but still had a lived in feel to it; most of the furniture had seen better days but was lovingly cleaned and polished all the same. In the lounge a large dresser against the wall displayed an array of photographs; a younger version of the Colonel standing in uniform beside a small woman with curly blonde hair carrying a simple posy of flowers. The life story of a young woman unfolded through a series of photographs from childhood to graduation to blushing bride and at the centre of them all, in pride of place, a large studio portrait of two beaming toddlers.

"My wife and daughter; our two grandsons." He didn't elaborate any further and, taking in the rest of the room, nowhere could Elizabeth see a picture of John. Tucking her skirt underneath her, she took a seat on the couch as he lowered himself into what was obviously his armchair; a pair of reading glasses and a neatly folded newspaper lay on the small table next to him.

"So, are you here to tell me my son is dead?" The question was asked without trace of emotion and Elizabeth found her self taken aback by the matter of fact manner in which he'd asked it. "Don't look so shocked, Doctor. I know my son and it's always been a matter of when rather than if he'd get himself killed."

"I'm here to inform you that John is MIA, Colonel, but we have every reason to believe he is still alive."

"You believe he's been captured?"

"Yes, unfortunately we don't know by whom or where exactly he is being held."

"Is he out in Iraq? Because if Iraqi militants have got hold of a American pilot then…" His voice wavered for a moment, just the trace of emotion, before he recovered. "Then the only time we're going to see him again is when they post his beheading on the internet." It was strange, and she found herself feeling ashamed of the fact, but the reality of what was happening on Earth had become diluted for her. She spent her time dealing with matters on an intergalactic scale, it was easy to forget the very real dangers that people were facing on Earth.

"I'm afraid the location of our base of operations is highly classified information, as is the specifics of our mission; but I can tell you that we are not working within the Middle East."

"Highly classified?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything you can tell me?" Leaning forward, she entwined her hands and rested them on her knees.

"Very little, only that our mission is of great importance on an international scale."

"Hmm." He seemed to consider this for a moment. "And what exactly is your role in this 'mission', doctor?"

"I am the head of our project."

"You're a civilian." It sounded more like an accusation than a statement of fact. "May I ask what exactly you're a doctor of?"

"International relations."

"International relations." There was an element of disdain in his voice and a mocking smile on his face. "So, Doctor Weir, why is the head of such an 'important' classified operation going to the trouble of personally informing the family of a missing pilot?"

"I'm not. I'm personally informing the family of my military CO." Tom Sheppard spat out a laugh and shook his head.

"What kind of half-assed set up are you running if that you'd put a screw up Major in charge?"

Elizabeth bit her tongue, keeping her composed tone of voice.

"Actually he's a Lieutenant Colonel these days and a highly regarded one, I might add." She felt some satisfaction at his reaction; it was something he hadn't been expecting and it had put a crack in his mask, letting a hint of his uncertainty back out. "I really don't know what we would have done without him these past couple of years, he has acted above and beyond the call of duty, showed incredible courage and selflessness; proved himself time and time again."

"He always could charm the women." Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath, this time she didn't bite her tongue.

"Well, he clearly didn't get that from you." Silently she berated herself for snapping at him but couldn't help noticing the comment had made him sit up a little straighter. "Colonel, I don't know what happened between you and your son but John is one of the best men I have ever known and if you are so determined to hate him that you're going to twist everything I say, that you have to make sordid insinuations about me simply because I have a high opinion of him, then I feel sorry for you." Standing, she picked up her suitcase and stepped toward the hall. "I don't see any reason for me to stay any longer, do you?" Stopping for a moment, she turned back. "You know, when you first opened the door I was taken aback by how much alike the two of you are but the similarity is clearly only skin deep, because I find myself unable to picture John being so utterly heartless."

"Heartless?" The Colonel rose to his feet, his face flushed with anger. "John has hurt everyone who has ever cared about him; he's just a selfish, irresponsible kid. You think you know him but you don't, he's reckless and dangerous, it's like he's got a built-in self destruct mechanism. Every time I thought he'd pulled himself together he'd go and do something stupid. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he was dead." Tom Sheppard stopped abruptly and stood looking shell shocked, confusion on his face as he processed what he'd just said, but Elizabeth had a hard time finding sympathy for him.

"I can see my coming here was a mistake, Colonel. I can only hope that when our mission finally becomes public knowledge you'll realise how mistaken you are and you'll be proud of him, because God knows I am."

As she slammed the front door behind her and marched back up the street she felt like screaming. Anger boiled inside her, anger at herself for getting mad with him, anger at him for being so bitter and twisted, anger at John for putting her in this position in the first place.

A/N As I'm sure you've realised, this chapter is allows for a bit of a time jump. I hope you can all forgive me for that, but the alternative would have been several very dull chapters.