A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed. You did what I needed and pointed out some inconsistencies and things not explained. This chapter is a little longer since I'm trying to explain things. It is also an in between chapter, so please be patient while I work this stuff out.

A/N2: Please forgive any mistakes about the military! I'm using the web for checking facts, but I don't have them all.


Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate: SG-1, and all their locations and names, are the intellectual property of others. This amateur work is not intended to infringe.

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The First Four Days That Turned Into Six

Colonel Samantha Carter tapped on General Landry's open door.

"Come in, Colonel Carter," said Landry, standing behind his desk and motioning to a chair.

"Thank you, sir," she said, as she shut the door behind her and took a seat. "You asked to see me?"

Landry moved to the front of his desk and sat on the edge. "How comfortable are you with moving the ZPM here from Atlantis?"

Sam considered the question. "Well, sir, I worked with Dr. McKay to develop the procedures we used for the Atlantis trip, and I worked with our scientists to develop the interface to the SGC power systems."

"So you feel confident you could head up the process to move it here for another Pegasus trip and then back to Antarctica?"

"Yes, sir, of course. Are we planning to do that?"

Landry crossed his arms. "You may remember that I told Dr. Weir that we would contact her after the battle. I think it is time to send that message. Also, I have just agreed to let Colonel Sheppard get a quick lift home given his cooperation."

Sam paused. "Permission to speak freely?"

Landry looked taken aback. "Of course, Colonel, what's on your mind?"

"It's just that the battle was over a week ago. I was wondering why you put off the message so long, and why you didn't allow Dr. McKay and Specialist Dex to return through the gate?"

"Ah," Landry smiled in understanding, stood up and moved behind his desk to sit down. "Well, the problem was politics, as usual."

Sam was confused. "I don't understand."

"Well, really politics with a healthy dose of the knowledge of human nature." Landry paused and leaned forward on his desk. "You see, Colonel, I knew our problems with the weapons chair would concern the IOA. You could say I was not surprised when Woolsey stated the council wanted to keep Sheppard on Earth. So I was trying to plan ahead."

"Plan ahead?"

"Yes. I knew Sheppard would not want to stay on Earth. I wasn't sure if I could get the council to go along with my, uh, breeding program, so I needed to set things up in case it didn't go my way. I sent McKay and Dex home before Sheppard woke up. That way, they wouldn't be around to support his position in case I lost the battle with the IOA. Later, if we had to inform Atlantis of the reassignment, it would be a done deal."

"OoooooKay. I think I see that part, but why the delay in the message? Some would consider that cruel to the outpost. The people there must be thinking they've lost three key personnel."

Landry grimaced slightly. "Yes, that was unfortunate but necessary. I wanted to wait to send the message until after I knew Sheppard was on board. I thought the desire to return to Atlantis would be pressure enough, but just in case, I delayed contacting Atlantis so the pressure would be higher. I also suspected he would want to be sent back by gate, and I didn't want to expend the energy twice."

"I see," said Sam, looking down with a frown of concentration on her face. She looked up. "I'm not sure I would want to be in your shoes right now, trying to balance a military/exploratory program against political pressure."

Landry smiled. "But Colonel, that's what the military has always had to do: balance the safety and security of the country against political and economic realities. Have I answered your questions?"

"Yes, sir, and thank you for indulging me. When would you like me to have the ZPM installed?"

"I believe Colonel Sheppard will be ready in about eight days. If you use the Odyssey's transporter, could you get it done in that length of time?"

"No problem, sir. With your permission, I'll get a small team together and check out the connections here before leaving tomorrow."

"Permission granted, Colonel." Carter stood up as did Landry, extending his hand. "Good luck, Colonel. We'll see you soon."

Shaking his hand, Carter smiled. "Thank you sir. We'll be back before you know it." She turned to the door, then turned back. "Uh, sir, one more question?"

Landry nodded.

Carter concentrated, then said, "How did you get the IOA to accept the breeding program instead of Sheppard?"

Landry smiled again. "I made sure they understood the consequences of losing Sheppard completely if he left the Air Force."

Carter smiled, nodded, and left the office for the science labs. It would take them at least one day just to reestablish the interface used to connect the ZPM to the SGC Stargate.

Elsewhere in the SGC…

"One – whoosh – Two --- whoosh – Three – whoosh…"

Jack O'Neill leaned against the door to the SGC gym, watching Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard working on curls. The crutches were leaning next to the machine. As Sheppard finished a set and sat up, O'Neill moved into the room.

"How many more?"

Sheppard looked up, wiping his face on a towel. "Just one set of free weight bench presses and I'm done for the day," he said, moving over to the set of barbells in the corner.

"Ok, I'll spot you. What weight?"

John looked a little embarrassed. "I haven't been to the Atlantis gym in awhile, so I'm starting low at 160."

O'Neill put 80 pounds of weights on one end of the barbell while Sheppard put the same on the other. They tightened the ends, then Sheppard lay down on the bench. He raised his hands to the bar and took a deep breath.

"Ready?" O'Neill placed his hands on the bar ready to help him lift the weights.

"Ready." John lifted the barbell out of the stand and lowered it to his chest. O'Neill began to count the repetitions.

"… Six…. Seven…. Eight….How many we going for?"

"Twelve," gasped Sheppard as he pushed the barbell up. "That's nine."

"…Ten… Eleven… Twelve." O'Neill put his hands on the barbell and helped Sheppard load it back in the stand.

Sheppard sat up and wiped his face again. O'Neill reached out and brought the crutches over to John.

"Thanks," said John. "What brings you down here?"

"Actually, I was looking for you. I didn't expect to see you here, though."

John stood up carefully, not putting his weight on his injured leg. "Well, my experience with crutches in the last two days convinced me to put in a little time building my upper body strength. It's also a great way to work off frustrations." He began moving himself to the door.

O'Neill followed. "Frustrations?"

"Yeah, you know, stuck on base 24 stories underground, unable to get around easily, the smirk of the nurse as I hand in my specimen. Frustrations."

O'Neill nodded. "Oh, those frustrations. He paused, touching John's arm to delay him moving through the door into the more public hall. "You know, I haven't really thanked you for agreeing to this.

John snorted. "Well, I didn't have much of a choice." He paused. "But I'm still curious why you and Colonel Carter wanted to participate. I've read all the mission files including the first one. I know you had a son once, so your, er, condition must be more recent."

O'Neill snorted in return. "Yeah. You remember the comment Rah made about using humans as hosts?

"Yeah, something about our bodies being easy to repair?"

"Right. Well, Ba'al decided to push that to an extreme, killing me and then bringing me back through the sarcophagus. Evidently some parts do wear out."

"I also read the mission report about your clone. Surely his DNA would have made more sense. It's yours, after all."

Now O'Neill made a face. "You said you read about my son. You realize he would have been only a couple of years older than my clone."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, it's hard to see someone that young as a copy. Instead, he seemed more like a son. At least, I began to interact that way with him. So, can you imagine asking your son to impregnate your wife?"

Now John made a face. "Uh, no, I guess not."

"Exactly."

O'Neill made a move to go and this time John stopped him. "You know, knowing you and Colonel Carter will be the parents is strange but reassuring. I wish I had that kind of feeling for the other potential parents. I really don't want a child of mine unwanted."

"Speaking from experience?"

"You could say that." He stopped there, the topic obviously closed.

O'Neill thought about it for a few seconds, then commented, "You know, this situation is not typical. I'll check with General Landry and see if we can arrange for you to at least know who they are even if you don't meet them. How does that sound?"

John expelled a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "I'd really appreciate it."

"Good." They finally began walking down the hall, Jack adjusting his pace to John's crutches. "Actually I came looking for you to maybe help out with one of those frustrations you were talking about."

They were making their way slowly down the hall to the elevator to the residential quarters. "Oh? What did you have in mind? Another bar run?"

"No, I was thinking of a shopping trip for the stuff they should have taken to Atlantis and are only now gradually getting there."

"Like,…"

"Oh, you know, a pool table, videos, volleyball sets, . . . how about a still?"

John laughed. "Actually, the chemists assembled one of those within the first two weeks. But the pool table is a good idea. I also need some more football videos."

"Say no more. Let's go."

"Let me grab a shower first."

"Ok, how 'bout we meet at the elevator in 30?"

"Twenty should do it."

"Done." And with that, O'Neill headed back toward the gateroom and Landry's office.

John turned and got on the elevator, feeling more upbeat than he had just a little while ago.

As Jack O'Neill got to Landry's office, he wasn't sure how he was going to bring up what he wanted to talk about. He knocked and got an "enter" in response, so he opened the door to find Hank Landry reviewing reports (what happened to the paperless office?)

Landry looked up. "What's on your mind, Jack?"

Jack sat down in the chair Carter had used earlier that day. "I just talked to Sheppard, thanking him for helping, and he said a couple of things that got me thinking."

"Dangerous, Jack, I thought Colonel Carter encouraged you to leave that to her," Landry said, deadpan.

"Nice," sneered Jack. "Seriously, he said he felt better about knowing Carter and I would be parents, and he wished he could know the other parents as well. Since this is not a normal anonymous sperm donation thing, and since all these families had to have clearance for the Stargate program, I was wondering if we couldn't bend the rules and let him at least meet these people. They don't have to know who he is."

Landry leaned back, rocking in his chair. "Let me check around. Since this is so unusual, we might be able to do something. We should probably keep it low key. . ."

"I was thinking of a barbeque."

Landry nodded. "Yep, that would be low key. We'd just invite folks to a base event. Include SG-1, maybe a few other teams, and let everyone bring the family. Blended in, he could at least meet everyone. You volunteering your house?"

"Uh, sure. I should probably check with Carter first."

"Wise choice, Jack." Landry opened his file again.

"Actually, Hank, there is one more thing."

Landry looked up at O'Neill who, if anything, looked a little more nervous. "What?"

"It was something Sheppard said about not wanting a child of his unloved."

That got Landry's attention. He closed the file. "Are you afraid those concerns would prevent him from completing the project?"

"Actually, I was wondering if it reflected some bad experience of his own. I haven't seen his file in awhile. What's his family background?"

Landry looked over to another stack of files and pulled one out, opening it up. His eyebrows went up some in surprise. "Career military. Father a cold war colonel. Looks like they moved around a lot. Lost his mother several years ago." He closed the file and looked thoughtful.

"And. . . .?"

"Well, I was just remembering he said something similar to me, about not wanting unwanted or unloved Sheppards running around."

"You assured him about the families picked out, right?"

"Yes, but I don't think that was enough." Landry looked directly at O'Neill. "Are you thinking we should contact his father? Looks like he's probably retired. He won't have clearance for the Stargate program."

O'Neill nodded. "I think there's a good chance he could get clearance if we asked, and I'm getting a hunch that we may want to. I wanted to run it by you since I wasn't sure if we should meddle."

Landry snorted. "Since when do you hesitate to meddle?" He opened the folder again to skim the page, then closed it. "Ok, here's what we'll do. I'll get in touch with some folks to see what kind of person he is and if he is a good candidate for clearance. Then, one of us will get in touch with him to see if he even wants to see his son. I don't want to set something up that will make Sheppard even more upset with us. If he wants to meet, we'll try to get him clearance and permission to read some mission reports. How's that sound?"

"Great," said Jack, getting to his feet.

"Wait a minute, Jack. If this works, we may want to get Sheppard out of here for a little while so his father can be briefed just like anyone else."

"I can do that.," said O'Neill, looking at his watch. "Crap, I'm late. I'm taking him shopping. Can we charge some Atlantis gear to the SGC?"

Landry frowned. "What and how much are we talking about here, Jack?"

"Oh, you know, a few cases of popcorn, peanuts, a few DVDs, . . .a pool table, …"

"Pool table?" Landry looked at Jack, then smiled. "Just don't let them scalp the military again."

"Will do," said Jack as he left, at a jog, to meet with John.

Landry turned to his phone. "Get me the Pentagon contact," he said to his aide.

The next morning saw John working on the policy changes he was recommending to the IOA. He was in his quarters, trying to balance a laptop on his bed while keeping his leg straight and elevated, a position that made typing difficult. He was reviewing the current military policies on fraternization as well as more common workplace policies on sexual harassment. He thought some combination of the two might meet their needs.

By lunch his brain felt fried, and he decided he hated bureaucracy. After a workout in the gym, he contacted Landry for some resumes and found the General packing.

"Good thing you caught me. I had a quick trip to DC come up. I'll arrange with my aide to get you whatever you need for interviewing."

"Thank you, sir," said John as Landry left in a hurry. He went next door to Landry's aide and was given some resumes to review, and he was able to set up some interviews for the next morning. As he was finishing up going over the papers in his quarters, O'Neill knocked on his open door.

"You up for another outing?"

John looked up. "Now?"

"No, I was thinking of tomorrow afternoon."

"What's going on this time?"

"Colonel Carter called in from Antarctica and asked if there was any way you could fly the wraith dart out. With the winter storms, the base personnel did not want to be responsible for it staying in one place or in one piece."

"Sure, no problem. Uh, should I check with Dr. Lam?"

"Probably a good idea," said Jack, leading the way to the infirmary.

Dr. Lam suggested that John get assistance in getting in and out of the dart, but that otherwise she was satisfied in how his leg was healing. John hobbled back to his quarters in a better frame of mind than he had started with, looking forward to the trip.

The next day, John conducted interviews with Atlantis wannabes. They were a mixed bag, but he found several that he wanted to interview again later. General Landry had not given him a limit in how many men he could take, but he knew how many they had lost, and hoped Landry would be generous.

After lunch, and after finding cold weather gear, he and Jack were transported to the Antarctic base.

Colonel Carter looked up from working next to the weapons chair and smiled at them. John was smiling back when he realized her eyes were on Jack who was grinning as well.

"Hi, guys. I'm sure glad to see you. I was hoping, Colonel, that I could talk you into a few tests with the chair before you take off. I haven't had a chance to work with it much, and I wanted to run a few diagnostics before removing the ZPM." She looked a little sheepish. "We're all still a little upset that we couldn't get it to work."

"Sure, no problem. And by the way, it's John," said Sheppard, sitting down in the chair and watching it light up.

"Ok, John. I'm Sam. Let's see what we can do."

The next couple of hours were spent running tests while John explored different things the chair would do, short of launching weapons. They were able to get a feel for how many more silos of drones were available, and Carter was able to see the count reflected in her data.

"That's great," said Sam as she closed down the laptop. "I think we're done here."

Jack jerked upright as John raised and deactivated the chair. O'Neill had been dozing to the sound of Carter's scientific jibberish, and he was glad that was done with.

"You know, it's kind of late to be starting back to Area 51," he said. "It's dusk there, and we really don't want any more flying saucer stories around that place. It seems all the nuts come out at night. Do you mind flying back tomorrow?"

"I have an early appointment tomorrow morning," said John, with a pointed look at O'Neill.

"No problem. We just dump it in Nevada and get a transport home."

John looked a little skeptical, but nodded. "OK, I guess we stay here. So, what are you guys doing for fun? At McMurdo we were making book on the penguins."

"To do what? March in formation?" said Carter, and she led them to the temporary quarters for visiting scientists and military.

Virginia

As Jack and John had been taking off for their trip to Antarctica, General Hank Landry was knocking on the door of Colonel Edward Sheppard (retired). The reports had come back of an upright soldier with a strong sense of integrity. His clearance had been high during his service, so Landry had started the paperwork for a renewed clearance for the Stargate program before catching the plane for Virginia to meet the man himself. Now he was waiting at the door of a modest home in a middle class neighborhood in Richmond.

The door opened to reveal a man in his late sixties who still carried himself with a military bearing. When he saw Landry's uniform, however, his shoulders sagged.

"He's dead, isn't he."

Landry could have kicked himself. He'd forgotten what this must look like. He should have called ahead.

"No, Colonel Sheppard, he is still alive and is serving under me. May I come in? I have something to discuss with you."

Colonel Edward Sheppard straightened up again and opened the door for his son's commanding officer.

Antarctica

The next day did not dawn since it was still winter in Antarctica. The dim day was still several hours away when John woke up in the living quarters and went to find some breakfast. The cold, icy floors of the base were making his crutches even more difficult to maneuver, so he was being careful.

"John," said O'Neill as Sheppard got to the door of the mess. "Come on over for some Fruit Loops."

John looked at the bowl of soggy sugary cereal and headed for the coffee pot and the pastries. "No thanks, I'm good," he said, holding up a bagel.

O'Neill just grinned. "How 'bout me going with you in the dart?"

"Jack, this is not a two-seater. I can't fly you back with me unless you want to go as wraith bait."

"Wraith bait?"

"Well, the wraith use these darts to collect humans for feeding on. They beam them up and keep them in an energy state until they reach the hive where they rematerialize. If you want to travel that way, I have no problem."

"Uh, never mind. I'll just go back by way of the Odyssey."

John just grinned.

After breakfast, they found two marines to help John into the dart. When he got it into the air, O'Neill signaled the Odyssey for a beam out.

Once they got to Area 51 with the dart, Sheppard spent several hours showing the scientists how the ship worked. He had to agree to ship Rodney's translation program back as soon as he got back to Atlantis. They were disappointed when he went to find Jack to leave.

"Well, I think that's it. I need to get back, Jack. I'm already late." He had found the general in the base rec room watching soccer.

O'Neill looked up and then back at the TV. This was it. He had to keep Sheppard here overnight since Colonel Edward Sheppard was arriving on base.

"Uh, about going back. I just heard from the Odyssey that they are having trouble with the transport programs. They are working on it now, but they've asked us to sit tight in the meantime."

Sheppard was obviously agitated. "I need to get back, you know that. Isn't there a plane or something we could grab?"

"Nope, no transport here that we can get to. By the time we got some, the Odyssey should be fixed. So I told them to contact us when they were done."

John flopped down in a chair, definitely pissed. "This really sucks, you know? This will only delay me getting back to Atlantis."

"I'm sorry, John, really. But I think they are working as fast as they can. Did you want to watch anything special?"

John looked around. "No, I think I'll go back to helping the scientists. They seemed to have more questions." He got up to leave.

"OK, I'll let you know when they get in touch."

John nodded and left, leaving Jack still watching soccer. What he didn't know was that Jack had told the Odyssey not to call back until the next morning. He knew John would be upset, but this plan would give Landry an entire day with the other Sheppard.

The next morning, a sullen John Sheppard and a rested Jack O'Neill were transported to the infirmary at Stargate Command. Sheppard gave O'Neill another scowl and headed off with the nurse. O'Neill headed down to Landry's office.

"Well, how'd it go?" Jack entered Landry's office as the general was settling in behind his desk.

"He got clearance, so I've set him up in an office with the mission reports from Atlantis plus a few from SG-1 so he'd understand the program."

"What kind of guy is he?"

Landry leaned back in his chair. "He thought, at first, that John was dead, and was sincerely glad when I said he wasn't. He also seemed disturbed by their estrangement. He jumped at the chance to find out what John is doing. The clearance went through with no problems given his background."

"Good." Jack paused. "I sure hope we're doing the right thing."

"Jack, this man is important to Earth's defense, and his children will be critical to its future. I think getting him in a good frame of mind will help protect a valuable asset for our planet."

"Great justification. We're still meddling."

"Yep, but it's for a good cause."

"Right," said Jack as he left to go back to find Sheppard. He'd become the man's personal cruise director.

Sheppard, meanwhile, had gotten his donation over with and was in his quarters, working on the policy. He was almost done, but needed to set it aside and read it again later. Just as he reached that point, O'Neill came by.

"Uh, can I ask a favor?"

"As long as it doesn't keep me here longer."

O'Neill had the grace to look apologetic. "Yeah sorry about that. It is another outing, but it should be much easier."

"OK, what?" John moved back over to his bed where he could stretch out his leg.

"Well, I've got some friends down at Nellis AFB, and the most recent Red Flag is winding down. They usually ask me and a couple of others to act as bogies late in the game. That way, the new guys aren't flying against the same folks they've been training against for the last several weeks. Cam and I are going, and we wanted to know if you'd like to. That is, if you think you can make it up the ladder of an F-16."

Sheppard appeared frozen in shock, then his face lit up with a grin. "I can pull myself in if necessary. This is great! When are we needed?"

"Well, our sortie is day after tomorrow, in the morning. I'm going down tomorrow afternoon. Cam is already there. So, are you up for it?"

Sheppard grimaced. "I'll miss another donation. I should probably check with the doctor anyway, so I'll ask if I can do one early."

"Already done. You can donate late tomorrow, and you're cleared to fly second seat." At Sheppard's look of disappointment, O'Neill held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just trying to get you into the air."

Sheppard's grin came back, just not as strong. "I understand. I assume we're driving?"

O'Neill looked quite pleased with himself. "Actually, I've got us a Cessna. We take off from Colorado Springs and refuel in Richfield, Utah. Even with the stop, we should get in by dinner time. There's a catch, though. Mitchell wants to fly back, so we get the car, and it's 800 miles."

"Wow! Flying down and a road trip back. Can't wait. Meet in the mess hall at lunch?"

"Sure. See you then."

O'Neill left, a grin on his own face. This trip would get Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard out of the way for another day and a half so that Colonel Edward Sheppard could finish his reviews.

The trip to Nellis was straightforward, and John was ecstatic about finally being in the air again. They managed to arrive in time for the last part of dinner, and afterwards, they found Cam and met the latest group of Red Flag participants. The Red Flag exercises were a chance for trainees to gain experience, and for experienced pilots, acting as the enemy, to maintain their skills. The exercises lasted several weeks, and this year's group included service men from Australia as well as Americans. John enjoyed catching up with the pilots. He was somewhat frustrated in not being able to talk about his current posting, but he followed O'Neill's lead in talking vaguely about testing new equipment, a statement that was technically true.

The next morning found Colonel Sheppard hoisting himself into the back seat of an F-16D behind retired General Jack O'Neill. They took off to get a head start on the "good guys," and John got to enjoy the feeling of real g-forces.

"Sometimes I wish the puddle jumpers didn't have inertial dampeners," he said to O'Neill who had just executed a steep climb to 20,000 feet.

"Yeah," said O'Neill. "I know what you mean. The F-302s have dampening but it's only 90 percent effective, so you still get a kick."

"Well, the Ancients didn't even leave us that much. The nice thing, though, is the jumper reads your mind."

As he spoke, the first of the "good guy" targets came into view, and the next several hours were spent in evasion and attack. Jack was still an excellent pilot, so their ship returned unscathed.

As they turned for the landing strip, O'Neill said, "Want to take the stick for awhile?"

"You bet."

O'Neill had barely relinquished control when the craft went into another steep climb followed by a sharp bank. John didn't get everything out of his system, but when O'Neill finally landed and they climbed out, he was wired on adrenaline, not frustrated tension. After a quick debrief on the morning's exercise, and an even quicker lunch, the two were headed back toward Colorado in Colonel Mitchell's Acura NSX.

The trip back was long, though the countryside had a certain stark beauty. The two men discussed the exercise some more, using hind sight to identify all the moves they should have made. As the conversation waned, John ran the seat all the way back and rested against the window. He hated to admit it, but the flight had taken something out of him, and he was glad to just be a passenger. As they continued to drive, however, he began to reflect on his situation, and the need to get back to Atlantis returned as a constant ache.

Jack noticed John's preoccupation. "What is it?"

John jumped. Nothing had been said for the last half hour, so he wasn't prepared for conversation.

"Just wondering about getting back to Atlantis."

"Well, don't worry about it. Carter said she'd have the ZPM at the SGC either tomorrow or the next day. You're still scheduled for five days from now, right?"

"No, six since I lost a day in Nevada"

They rode in silence a few more miles.

You might want to get some shuteye since you might have to spell me."

John gave a snort and leaned back against the seat of the car, letting the mild road vibration calm him to sleep.

TBC

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