Thanks to my lovely reviewers. It's your input that encourages me to continue. I am sorry this has taken me such a long time to update. RL and all!! This is something a little different and I hope you enjoy it.
The Richard Woolsey Diaries
The day hadn't started well, but then they rarely did. Not a man naturally endowed with patience, even his morning shower had conspired to darken his mood, malfunctioning half way through so that the water turned from pleasantly tepid to icy cold in a nanosecond. He had leapt from it with a pained yelp, soap still clinging rebelliously to his skin and balding head.
'Great!' he simply exclaimed out loud, before grabbing the nearest towel which turned out, when he had cleared the soap from his eyes, to be the one he used after shaving. He scowled. Everything in Woolsey World had to be neat, orderly and precise; each towel set in its proper place for its proper purpose. Cursing again, he grabbed his pristine blue bath robe and set about trying to shave in water that now had decided to become scalding. He would really have to have a word with Rodney McKay if, indeed, the good doctor was not the one responsible for these little 'accidents'. Richard Woolsey had a persistent nagging suspicion that he was still, after all this time, a target for McKay's bored moments.
Even with all the water problems, he still managed to leave his quarters at precisely six and a half minutes to eight, checking his watch and nodding in approval as he did. Everything in its place: everything at the right time. That was his motto. His morning walk to the canteen was peppered with silent nods and greetings to those he passed. Some would be smiling, no doubt their own morning routine confirmed by his presence, others half-saluted in more formal greeting. He hadn't made what many people would consider 'friends' while in the city, but for Woolsey he had more people here that he cared about than ever before in his life. However, it still surprised him when people were pleased to see him, or when they responded to him in such a way that actually suggested that they liked him. He hadn't had that before.
Chief Maria Johnson-Burt (and that still sounded odd to the ears, Maria and Harry Burt, the city's resident barman, now married) saw him arrive and instantly nodded a command to her deputy. Within two minutes, buttered toast and soft boiled egg had been placed on his usual table, the small round one by the balcony, along with a small pot of perfectly brewed Earl Grey tea and a slice of lemon. He thanked her and quietly ate his usual breakfast, gazing out to the ocean more in an attempt to subvert any association with the other residents than in an appreciation for its beauty although, he had to admit, it was a fairly striking sight this morning, a golden glow shimmering across the surface of the water, delicately touching the skirts of the city.
No, today hadn't started well and it he didn't suppose it would improve. Today was a day of posting the last messages to the families of those who'd lost their lives in the recent Genii attack, sadly two more had died yesterday of their wounds, and of funerals, most especially of Janet Donaldson. Her funeral had been delayed so that Colonel and Doctor Sheppard could both attend and was the most senior of all those that had taken place. There was the added complication of the Athosian ceremony too, the location and content of which had taken some negotiation. Teyla had wanted the full cremation thing, but they had to send Janet's body back through the gate so that she could have a family ceremony back on Earth. In the end, a compromise had been found and there would be a small civil ceremony, followed by Teyla and the Athosians singing their funeral rites as the coffin was despatched through the gate.
At least there was one bright spark to light up the gathering gloom of the day: the return of his military commander to some kind of public duty. Admittedly, John Sheppard was not fit enough to take back full command of the city, but after a week or two of light duties and simple routine tasks, he was to be present at the funeral today and would give the eulogy. Woolsey didn't mind admitting that he needed the man's experience in command and his ability to think outside of the box. Lorne was a commendable substitute, but not a man with imagination or flair. And that reminded him: checking his watch again (yes, it was now 8:25) he put his crockery and cutlery carefully back on the tray and stood up, pushing in his chair neatly before leaving. He didn't see Maria's affectionate smirk as he left.
'Good morning, Mr Woolsey,' a female voice called from behind. He stopped and turned and was met with the smiling blue eyes of Catherine Sheppard. Damn it! Why did she always do that to him when caught off guard? He harboured a bit of a 'thing' for the pretty doctor and she could, if he was unprepared, turn his legs to jelly and tie his tongue so that he spent much of his time around her stuttering like an idiot. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
'Good morning, Doctor Sheppard!' Now, that wasn't too bad. 'How are you and the Colonel today?'
She smiled again, but this time he was ready for the attack and felt his legs solidifying, his feet more firmly sensing the ground beneath them. 'We are well although we could do without today. It's a sad day for the city, isn't it? Has the Athosian delegation arrived yet?' Halling was making a rare visit to the city in honour of Janet and her bravery to the last, saving Teyla and the children.
'I'm on my way to the gate room, now, Doctor. They are expected shortly.' It irritated him that The Athosians couldn't arrive at a particular time, even though he knew logically that their clock was different to Earth's and their imperatives slightly different. An Athosian promise to arrive in time for the funeral meant sometime this morning. 'Will you join me?'
Catherine smiled again. 'No. I must get back to John and Mona. He's fussing about his dress uniform and worrying about remembering his words.' He noticed a slight break in the smile, a small crack in her usual calm.
'Don't worry, Catherine,' he said more softly this time. 'I'm sure he'll be fine. In my experience, the adrenalin and nerves will help him to rise to the occasion.' He noticed the look on her face as she turned to leave and frowned in puzzlement: as a man who lived on the surface of the literal plane, the failing attempt to bury the giggle at the thought of John and rising wasn't something he could recognise.
Sighing, he turned back towards the command centre, glancing anxiously at his watch as he did, frowning and picking up the pace to fast little steps, which to the observer was dangerously close to mincing, as he realised he might be a minute or so late this morning. He had meant to ask Catherine Sheppard about her investigations into what The Genii had taken. It had been a frustrating task, so many artefacts destroyed, and it was a little like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. Still, if anyone could find it, she could.
In the gate room the cleaners were still doing their morning polish as he arrived and he breathed a sigh of relief, which was rather too loud and caused Chuck to glance at him curiously.
'Good morning, Chuck,' he said. 'Anything exciting happen overnight that I should know about?'
The small technician responded with his usual unreadable expression. Woolsey was frequently convinced that he could well be mocking him behind it, but had absolutely no evidence to prove his theory. 'No, sir. Doctor McKay reports some early morning issues with the water heating system, but apart from that nothing unusual.'
Was that a knowing smile flitting across the man's face? He peered a little closer but the hint of a glimmer of it had passed and shrugging his shoulders, turned to face the pile of papers on his desk.
It was about an hour into his work that he heard the familiar sound of the gate activating and Chuck's announcement that someone was on their way. A few moments later, The Athosian party walked through the shimmering blue ring. At its head was the tall figure of Halling, now grey but still holding that threat of danger and alongside him a young man of about twenty or so, a head shorter than his father, but looking his equal in 'not to be messed with'. Woolsey walked forward and held out his hand to the Athosian leader who took it, willingly.
'Welcome, Halling and,' he turned to the younger man,' Jinto. I am pleased to see you.'
'As are we,' Halling replied, 'although it is a pity that we only visit Atlantis these days for weddings and funerals.'
Woolsey was about to respond when he was pushed out of the way with the arrival of Teyla and the tumult of affectionate greetings between her and her people. Behind her and slightly shyly stood Torren, now becoming quite the young man. At seven years old, he was already tall for his age, with jet black hair like his father and skin honey-coloured after his mother. And then, he too was enveloped in the warm embraces. Again, Richard Woolsey reflected upon his lot to always be on the outside, as he turned and walked back up the stairs to carry on with what he had been doing. The messages home had been sent and now all he had to do was tidy up the last bits of paperwork for this afternoon's funeral and check with Stargate Command that they were ready at their end to receive the coffin and the ongoing transport to Janet's home. The Apollo was currently in orbit around Earth and hopefully ready to transport the funeral party.
The funeral was due to start at 2pm and Woolsey made sure he was ready well before that. He'd taken some time to decide what to wear, not being military or having a 'dress' uniform as such, and had plumped for his best dark suit and black tie. The crisp white shirt was currently cutting uncomfortably, but somehow reassuringly, into his neck and he put a single finger in to try to loosen it a little. Various people were gathering in the control room, chairs having been placed in mock pew fashion with an 'aisle' that led to the gate. He took a moment to look down on the gathering scene then slowly descended the stairs, straightening his jacket as he did.
A noise to his left signalled someone's arrival and he turned and smiled. Colonel John Sheppard and his wife had arrived. John Sheppard was wearing his blue dress uniform with an array of glimmering medals across its chest and didn't look exactly comfortable in it, but the look on his wife's face as she stood next to him said much. She was almost glowing with pride and not, Woolsey conjectured, just because, although he hated to admit it and would never say it out loud, her husband looked remarkable handsome in the uniform, but that he looked so much like his old self. The Colonel was a man of many parts and many characters and Woolsey had learned a lot about the 'real' John Sheppard in the last years; he recognised the confident, relaxed expression with the possibility of sudden humour or equally sudden moodiness as evidence that the mercurial man was close to being back to full health. Not only that, but the Colonel's presence also had an effect on everyone else and the atmosphere in the room began to relax a little, even given the sadness of the upcoming occasion.
John gave a slight smile and walked towards him, gently releasing himself from the security of his wife's grasp. It was only then that Richard Woolsey detected the slight but perceptible shakiness in his step and a pallor that spoke of the effort he was making.
'Good afternoon, Mr Woolsey,' he said.
'Good afternoon, Colonel,' Woolsey replied. 'It is good to see you looking so well. Are you ready to give the eulogy?'
'Yes, but as you know, public speaking is not exactly my forte,' John replied.
Woolsey gave him a small, and what he hoped was a, smile of encouragement and then settled back onto his heels again, allowing the couple to meet and greet the gathering audience. Where he was awkward in company, Sheppard was at ease and comfortable with people and they, in turn, liked him. And Mrs Sheppard amply complemented him, chatting naturally to some of the Athosians, but all the while keeping a protective eye on her husband. Gradually, the place filled until all the seats were taken and most available space. The dark and looming shape of Ronon appeared through the doorway, taking up his usual place beside Sheppard, but not before giving him a beefy 'pat' in the back which nearly sent the smaller man reeling; Rodney and Katie arrived and he took his regular place on John's other side, rapidly followed by Teyla. Katie McKay and Catherine hung back chatting quietly. Thank God, though Woolsey. It was as though the ground, which had felt so insecure for weeks, had been re-secured again at the foundations.
Chuck gave the silent signal from his right and suddenly quiet descended on the room. The military stood to attention and the civilians stood tall and watched the small procession make its way to the front of the congregation. Then Colonel John Sheppard walked slowly to the front and turned. Woolsey saw him hesitate and look towards his wife who smiled and nodded back in encouragement, and then he began.
''It is never easy to say goodbye to dear friends and respected colleagues and Janet Donaldson was both of those to me, my family and to many here in the city. She was not only an excellent archivist and historian, she was also intelligent, witty and very brave. She died protecting our children and serving the city that had she had grown to love. She gave her life without a thought; she fought with no selfish regard for her own welfare. She will be greatly missed by us all.'' Here he paused and for a brief moment he seemed to falter. Woolsey saw Catherine move a little towards him before he stood straight again and continued. ''Please join together to sing her praises and send her honoured soul to The Ancestors.'
This was the signal for The Athosians to move forward. At their head Teyla stood, and sang with that sweet voice which echoed mournfully through the stilled corridors of the city. As she sung, the gate began to turn, and the blue whoosh as it opened seemed to play a chorus to the song and then the small funeral party collected up the coffin and disappeared through the gate. At the other end, there would be dignitaries who would manage the tricky business of liaising with the family.
And then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. Within minutes, the room was clear of seats and people, except for those who needed to work and Atlantis' first team. He watched as John Sheppard lowered his forehead to Teyla's, comforting her in her grief for the loss of a friend, and then to Halling and Jinto, with an extra pat on the shoulder for the young man and a whispered something which Woolsey suspected had something to do with a visit and Athosian wine. He almost forced his feet forward to say the official farewells, hating the thought of breaking into the group but was pleasantly surprised when they turned towards him and even more surprised when Halling offered the Athosian the salute.
Then, they were gone too.
Not sure what to do next, he began to move away, excluding himself once again from the warmth of inclusion. As he did, he heard and rather wished he hadn't Catherine Sheppard whisper in her husband's ear.
'And remember, my sweet. We have a date tonight. Same time: same place. Oh and don't you dare take off that uniform – not yet, in any case.'
'And that's just too much information,' he thought as he blushed and turned back to his office.
Now, I know what you're thinking?? What about that East Pier scene and the mysterious device? Well, next time, I promise. I needed to tie up some loose ends and also like d the idea of seeing events through a different perspective. Please R and R...you know I like it!