Touched By An Ancient
By Ann3
Writer's Note: Well, here we are - journey's end ! My final thanks to everyone who's taken the time to share it, and special thanks to Rox, Nelowl, Tierney and Nebbyjen for all their support - so very much appreciated !
So here's the final, slightly longer than usual chapter. I was originally going to write this as a separate story, but then thought it would make a nicely fun ending for this one. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and for anyone who thought Shep had been left out of the whumping stakes... well, I hope his suffering here has been worth the wait ! ;o)
Enjoy !
Chapter Thirty Seven
They'd returned two days ago, bright eyed, bushy tailed and, astonishingly, enviably suntanned – this living proof that sunshine really did exist in Scotland prompting a rush of requests for shore leave.
Along with the inevitable, rapidly emptied bags of presents, and the mother of all care parcels from Gracie Beckett, they'd come back with something else too.
Maybe it had been lurking, unseen and untasted, in those crisp, clear, Scottish glen waters, but... no, Drs Beckett and McKay had, quite definitely, come back from Earth with the same infection. And, unfortunately, it had been John Sheppard who'd unwittingly caught the worst part of it.
Now, as usual, it was going to be left to Elizabeth Weir to face its consequences, which was fine – well, except for the part that, as usual, she didn't have the remotest clue on what was happening.
As far as she knew, the only dangers her flagship team had faced that morning were their booster shots. And with her revitalized, rejuvenated CMO back in his beloved Infirmary, cheerily whistling through his work – well, what trouble from such a familiar routine could John Sheppard and his team possibly get into…?
Except she'd forgotten one rather important thing. Something she really should have learned by now. Thanks, in no small part, to its leader, SGA1 could find trouble, cause chaos, in an empty room.
Still, at least at such times, she could always rely on her rock-steady CMO to smooth things over. Except, of course, for when that CMO's wicked sense of humour decided it needed some exercise. And Carson Beckett's notoriously feisty sense of humour had just run itself one hell of a marathon.
Little wonder, then, that Elizabeth now poured herself an extra generous mugful of coffee. The glint in those bright blue eyes told her, in all known languages, that she was going to need it.
Just over a year earlier, she'd taken charge of the greatest, most challenging mission she'd ever faced. She'd also taken charge of two bickering, overgrown kids who put the city's real children to shame. And, she worriedly noted as they arrived for that morning's meeting, their influence was spreading – because their shy, sane, ever sensible little brother now had the devil dancing gleefully in his eyes.
Following him in, middle brother was studiously tapping on his ever present laptop, fighting to hide an equally devilish smirk.
And supposedly wiser big brother, the usual instigator of merry hell on his two surrogate siblings…? Well, he wasn't smiling, or smirking, or enjoying the joke which clearly centred, for once, around him. No, she noted in barely hidden amusement, John Sheppard wasn't smiling, or smirking, at all.
Quite what her very own Three Stooges had been up to this time still had to be entertainingly revealed. But she imagined it had something to do with how gingerly, how very gingerly, John Sheppard settled into his seat – vainly stifled sniggers from the two seats flanking him met with a pointed, quite adorably pouty glare.
With her usual anchor of common sense now lost in a sea of giggles, Elizabeth turned to his deputy – noting, in some disquiet, that both Teyla and Ronon were also fighting to keep their faces straight.
Giving up on the fight she already knew she had no hope of winning, Elizabeth just shook her head. At this rate, she'd be placing her flagship team, her most trusted senior staff, on mass detention.
"Alright, let's get this over with…" she sighed, glancing patiently around a circle of mostly smirking faces. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on, or do I need to send you all to your rooms…?"
It was worryingly interesting to see how quickly, and in perfect unison, two of those grins disappeared. Damn it, even those twinned pairs of startled blue eyes shared the same expression of total innocence.
Summoning up her sternest look, albeit with increasing difficulty, Elizabeth then folded her arms – passing that look, in equal turn, from an expression of stoic defiance to one of quite adorable panic.
"Rodney…? Carson…?"
Faced with such terrible punishment, Rodney McKay did what any self respecting sibling would do. He dumped all the blame, all the responsibility, squarely on his surrogate big brother's shoulders.
"It's his fault…!" he yelped, tossing an accusatory nod towards a politely incredulous John Sheppard. "If he hadn't said something so… so dumb-ass stupid during our booster shots…"
"Ass being the operative word…" Ronon chipped in, prompting another round of silent hysterics. Even Teyla now looked in dire danger of sliding out of her chair, just as John Sheppard shot out of his.
Wondering if she even dared ask, Elizabeth could then feel her own suspicions beginning to form – taking timely, hasty cover behind her coffee mug as her chief pilot sulkily confirmed them.
"Okay, enough already…!" John spluttered, with all the authority his sorely wounded pride allowed, while pointing an accusatory finger of his own between his two tormentors. "Look, you're – you're definitely Scottish, Carson, and… and McKay's a Scottish name, too, and… and hey, it's possible, right…? It's possible, just possible, that you two could be… well, related…"
As fresh laughter erupted around her, Elizabeth stared at her second in command in frank disbelief.
He'd said that…? Actually said that, in front of a feistily Scottish, syringe-wielding doctor…?
Oh, boy...
Plaintive green eyes now swung towards her, in puppy-dog pleading for some much needed support. Unfortunately, all John Sheppard found instead was a leader who now collapsed in helpless laughter. And when, in sulky pique, he sat a little too abruptly on his still tender backside…? Well, that did it. With one notable, glowering exception, Elizabeth Weir's flagship team fell apart in complete hysterics
Even when she doggedly tried to steer them back on track, Elizabeth knew she was fighting a hopeless cause.
"So, um... Rodney, have you managed to track down what caused that power surge in the lab yesterday…?"
"What…? Oh, um… not yet, no…" Rodney admitted, shrugging in seemingly genuine regret – right up until the point when he glanced to his left and grinned a truly evil, thoroughly diabolical grin. "But I'm sure Radek and I will soon… uh, soon get to the bottom of it…"
She couldn't swear to it, but what sounded suspiciously like a growl rose from John Sheppard's seat. And if looks could have killed… well, Dr Rodney McKay would have been in serious need of a doctor
Speaking of which…
Glaring at him too, as sternly as she could manage, Elizabeth then turned, in forlorn hope, to Carson – guessing, from the pure glee on his face, that her CMO had been waiting for this moment all morning.
And was there even the remotest chance of stopping him…? Like hell there was.
"And Carson, if I can leave the vaccination program for M7G 677 with you…?"
To his credit, Carson kept his face completely straight, even as pure devilment gleamed from his eyes.
"Aye, leave it with me, lass, I'll… um… be sure to give it my best shot…"
This time the growl was unmistakeable, its meaning read, and understood, by everyone who'd heard it.
Closest to it, especially in terms of reprisals, its instigators suddenly found very little to laugh about. Instead, as they started to subtly push back their chairs, both of them looked distinctly nervous – their attempts to rise out of them stopped, in no uncertain terms, by a firm hand on each shoulder.
John Sheppard was, as always, determined to have his say in this latest round of brotherly shenanigans. And John Sheppard was currently one seriously peeved pilot.
"Oh no, you don't…" he grinned, beaming down at them in broad, deeply suspicious benevolence – making a point of keeping that extravagantly friendly smile in place as he leant in between them. "Hey, you both must be pretty fit now, right…? I mean, from all that walking and hiking and stuff…?"
Looking for all the world like two rabbits caught in car headlights, Rodney and Carson both nodded – both of them visibly swallowing down a gulp of pure dread as that beatific smile tellingly widened.
"Good… 'cos I'm only gonna give you a ten second start before… I… come… to… kill… you…!"
He could have been bluffing, of course, but two quaking doctors weren't willing to stay to find out. In fact, both of them had bolted for the nearest doorway before that threat was halfway completed – John Sheppard's indignant shout of 'I've not started counting yet…!' falling on terror-deafened ears.
Following them out, at a much more sedate pace, Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon stood on the main balcony – watching the threeway chase below in equal measures of concern, exasperation and helpless laughter. And while Elizabeth knew she should lead by example… well, just this once, she'd make an exception.
Life in her city was already an adventure, of course – a constant, often painful, struggle for survival. But at least with her three protectors around, bound by honour to keep her city safe, Elizabeth knew…
"Och, for God's sake, Rodney, stop bloody following me…!"
"Me…? Following you…? I think you'll find you've got that backwards...! And - And jeez, why the hell's he so mad at me anyway...? Damn it, Carson, you're the one who rammed that needle in his butt…!"
"Hey, no matter, guys…! Tell you what, to make it easy on you, how about I kill both of you…?"
"Oh, crap..."
… that Atlantis was in serious, serious trouble…