Part Two

What Rodney failed to realise, John grumbled internally as he slotted his mind once again into the neural pathways of the city, was that this stuff was tiring. Every day for the last two months, Sheppard had been herded into the Chair, his mind pushed and probed and hassled beyond all means and he was always expected to come back. When the anthropology team were questioning him, John didn't mind slipping back into the City and pulling up the relevant files to be displayed either in the cool-ass holographic display above his head, or on one of the filmy screens on the far side of the room because at least the anthropology department was grateful.

Rodney, on the other hand, expected John to mentally transfer data from the City to whatever handheld it happened to be that Rodney had in his grasp at that time. And he didn't even thank him. Over time John had gotten used to it but it by no means meant that he let Rodney get away with it.

As it was right at that moment, John had been in the chair for seven hours straight foregoing breakfast, lunch and verging on missing dinner and Rodney still didn't seem keen to let him rest for even a moment. But his mind kept slipping, wandering along paths it wasn't supposed to because he just couldn't concentrate anymore. And that irritated Rodney, who would complain loudly, which would annoy John causing him to lose his focus again.

After about the hundredth time of that happening in the space of ten seconds, John disengaged from the City abruptly, feeling the usual surge of fatigue as he propelled himself from the chair, ignoring Rodney's bursts of complaint and fled from the room. He would no doubt regret it later, as Rodney was not above fiddling with the settings in John's room but right then, he just really needed a break.

--

"Ah."

He looked up at the quiet exultation, letting his spoon drop back into his bowl of lukewarm soup as he frowned in greeting.

"What's up?" He asked, watching as Teyla stepped into the rarely used small kitchenette that John had found on his third or fourth night on Atlantis. He watched as she moved to the refrigerator, filtering easily past all the boxes and plastic tubs for something wrapped in brown paper near the back. He'd tried that stuff – jaranda stalks – and his stomach revolted at the reminder of the taste. When she took out the tub of houmous too, John scowled across at her. "God, anyone would think you were pregnant eating that stuff."

She scoffed lightly and shot him a disparaging glare which he returned with amusement. She dunked her jaranda into the houmous and scooped up a giant dollop to bite off. He shuddered visibly and she smiled over at him around her mouthful of food.

"Disgusting..." he murmured quietly and shook his head as he returned to his tomato soup, breaking off a piece of half-stale bread to dip into it.

They ate in companionable silence for a short while, John reading through a sheaf of City schematics and Teyla lost to her own thoughts. Every now and then John would look up to see her looking thoughtfully over his shoulder, a stalk of jaranda perched, long forgotten, between her fingers. She turned her gaze slightly and smiled when she met his eye and he knew he should have looked away. He didn't and she smiled, dropping her gaze to the tub of houmous in front of her.

"Has Rodney been difficult with you?" She asked, her tone a curious mixture of amusement and concern and John rolled his eyes good naturedly.

"Does he know any other way to be?" He questioned and she snorted lightly. "It's not for much longer, thankfully." She looked up to him then, a confused frown on her features and he smiled slightly, touched by the – what he perceived to be – slight panic in her eyes at the idea he might be leaving. "I talked to Colonel Lorne about getting me onto a team; there's only so long I can sit in a chair without losing my mind."

Teyla smiled slightly and nodded, tilting her head so it rested in her upturned palm as she leant her elbow on the table. Like that, she looked five years younger than John knew her to be and he had to force his eyes away from the sight. He hadn't wanted to raise any eyebrows by asking too many questions about the beautiful Athosian or her people but from he had garnered by his subtle questioning was that for the most part, the natives of the Pegasus galaxy were a frivolous bunch – the Athosians no exceptions. And while he didn't imagine Teyla to any kind of pure innocence, he also couldn't imagine her... the way he knew (from the experience of their approaches) other native women to be. Lorne had nothing but the utmost respect for her and while many of the men looked upon her with an appreciative eye, John knew none of them would even consider doing anything about the desire she incited in them.

Like him.

"Yes, I have heard that team two and seven require an extra body, although I believe the requirements of each to be ones of science."

John shrugged and looked down to his empty bowl.

"I just have to do something." He quirked half a smile in her direction and she returned it absently. "Knowing my luck, I'll end up with McKay."

Teyla smiled at that and leaned back, stretching her arms out behind her. He looked away for a moment and when he looked back, he caught the remains of a smirk on her lips but her usual facade quickly stole the remnants away. He smiled to her then stood, using the edge of his palm to gather his crumbs and dump them in the bowl that he took to the sink to rinse. He could feel and hear Teyla moving about behind him as she returned her own quarry to the fridge.

"Are they still doing that movie night thing down in the rec room on twenty nine?" He asked over his shoulder as he dried his hands on a dishtowel.

"Yes, although it has moved on to television series, I believe," she commented lightly as she leaned her hip against the worktop perpendicular to him. He quirked an eyebrow at her amused tone and she shook her head. "It seems someone thought it prudent to acquire a copy of... I believe it is called Wormhole X-Treme?"

John laughed loudly at that. He remembered watching bits and pieces of episodes of that horrendous television series in Antarctica.

"I'd forgotten about that... who was it? Zelenka? He seems to the type who might actually enjoy crap like that," John chortled, shaking his head slightly as he recalled the blue alien who portrayed Teal'c. "I was going to head down but I think I'll give it a miss."

Teyla nodded.

"A wise choice, I believe." He met her eyes for a moment before pushing himself off from the sink edge. He assessed the room, making sure it was as it had been before he'd settled himself down to eat before turning to bid Teyla goodnight. The words were about to leave his mouth when she interrupted him. "I am in need of a sparring partner, if you would care to join me?"

Automatically, his eyes slid up and down her petite form as he thought about sparring with her. He'd seen her 'sparring' with Dex and he knew, without even having to think too much on the subject, that she would hand him his ass on a plate.

He nodded.

"Sure."

--

It was not one of his better ideas.

As he stood under the spray of the tepid water of his shower, he hissed as the torrent hit on each and every forming bruise on his body. She had offered to go lightly, considering she had only just shown him the basic moves for the first time, but he had insisted she not tone it down on his behalf. He was sure she did anyway, yet she still kicked his ass.

He'd never known the tiles on the ceiling were hexagonal and as he had lain there, he wondered how they fit in, considering the room was round.

She must have got him one on the head as well. It wouldn't surprise him. Not in the least. As he closed his eyes, he could still see the lingering half hidden smirk as she'd held out a hand to help him off the ground – again.

--

"How's your team holding up?" Colonel Lorne questioned as they sat around a small poker table, cigars smoking idly in the ashtray and Sheppard looked up with a half smile. They'd won a small victory against a Wraith outpost and were celebrating the event with cards, smokes and beer. A well earned victory in all their eyes.

"It's fine."

Lorne nodded and tapped the table. Marks slipped him a card.

"And Dex is a good second?"

Sheppard snorted in mock disgust at the comment and rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he fingered the corner of his card before reaching out to roll his cigar around on its perch on his empty pint glass.

"I don't know why the guy doesn't have a team of his own."

Lorne raised his eyebrow over the rim of his card and Sheppard tried to study his face. There was a reason he hadn't played poker in several years, if the memory of losing a week's worth of flying hours was anything to go by.

"He doesn't want one." Lorne shrugged. "I don't know. You guys get on fine so..."

"Is this my official review?" Lorne laughed loudly at that and Sheppard dropped his cards onto the table. "I'm out."

"We should do this in Vegas." There was a murmur of agreement around the table, mingled with a few incredulous scoffs. "I'll speak to Woolsey. If we can get the ZPMs renewed, or if McKay ever finds out how to recharge them, we can drop by Earth for a little while."

Sheppard smiled; he had only been away from Earth for a couple of months and he already felt a little home sick. There wasn't a lot waiting for him on Earth – it was part of the reason the choice to come to Atlantis was so easy – but he still missed simply being on his home planet. It was a daunting thought, realising how small your own existence was, in the grander scheme of things.

He shook off the maudlin thoughts with a little snort and pushed himself away from the table.

"I'm beat. I'll see you guys in the morning for the meeting."

He stood, pausing when Teyla entered the room but brushed past her with a small nod. It would do no good for him if any of the men thought he had a thing for Teyla, as they had so rudely rumoured after they spotted him and Teyla beating the crap out of one another in the gym with her Bantos sticks... or rather, after they saw Teyla beating the crap out of him. Since then, they had both made a marked effort not to appear too... friendly with one another. Which was ridiculous, he thought, as he turned and saw her stub out the cigar he'd left smouldering on the rim of his empty beer glass.

"Good night, Major," Teyla remarked as she settled into the spot he'd vacated and he tossed a smile over his shoulder to her, ignoring the slight tightening in his gut.

"Yeah, g'night," he murmured and slid out of the room, ordering the flush to leave his cheeks.

This would not do.

--

Much later, when the moons were setting over one horizon and the first of the suns was arising in the second, Sheppard awoke sweaty and panting, his hand gliding easily through his saturated hair. He tried to draw in breaths and he fought to recollect what had woken him, the vague memory of Vegas girls and bunny ears running around Atlantis' control causing him to splutter out a laugh.

He flopped down onto his back, staring up at the ever brightening ceiling of his room on a floating city built by an ancient race of aliens in a galaxy that was not his own and wondered, not for the first time, how far down the rabbit hole he'd gone.