A/N: As always, many thanks go out to ladygris for her help with this story. She is very patient about emails, Beta requests and random thoughts sent her way during the day as they occur. God has blessed me with her and her spouse, Lithane as friends.
BTW I poke a little fun at my friend and birthday bud, LoneRanger1 in this chapter.
Gracias and Namaste,
~Sandy
Not a Hero
Chapter 5
A Journey, Not a Destination
Evan quickly calculated his odds for getting out without being seen, but the numbers didn't add up in his favor. Forcing himself to breathe slowly and quietly, he felt along the wall until he reached the closet. Careful to avoid the suitcases, golf clubs and other random bits and pieces of life, he eased into the back behind the garment bags just as the door was pushed open. The light came on, the sound of a drawer being opened, rooting around, throat clearing in that odd cadence his partner made then the light went out and the door was pulled shut again.
He forced himself breath normally for about two minutes, listening hard. The footsteps went down the hall to where he knew the bedrooms to be. Shifting to adjust his feet, he stepped on a slight bump in the carpeting. When he eased his weight down on it, a panel opened up in the wall behind him. Flicking on the flashlight and shielding it with his body, he looked inside and found several different items, all very odd looking with a matte metallic surface and designs etched into them that looked like they might be a language though not one he'd ever seen before. They were all small enough to fit in one hand. His gloves were still on so he chanced picking them up, turning them over and over, not finding the manufacturer's name.
Replacing them on the shelf in the exact same positions, he put the light out again and stepped on the bump to close the panel. Out in the hall, he heard his partner talking on the phone. His voice had that deep echoing quality again. That is really creepin' me out!
Careful not to make any noise, Evan went to the door and peeked through the crack. Anthony was facing the mirror on the opposite wall, the phone to his left ear.
"Yes, the preparations are going well. By the time the peace conference is concluded, our plan will be in motion. Soon we will be in control of the richest source of hosts ever to be found, Earth." There was a pause while he listened. "I know we have tried many times before and been thwarted at every turn by the SGC. That will not happen this time. Jendayi has been in hiding for many years, intergrating herself into the political structure of this country. And no one will suspect a lowly Sergeant in the local police force of being a Goa'uld." Another pause. "Do not worry. We have provided for every eventuality."
When he ended the call a moment later, Evan's stomach fell to his feet. Anthony's eyes glowed and his head bowed as if in prayer. He took a breath, lifted his head again and entered the bathroom. Evan waited for the shower to come on and when it did, he took that as his cue to leave.
It was full night when he got back to his car. The gloves came off and he turned on the overhead light while he searched for paper and a pencil. Finding both in the glove compartment, he sketched the strange objects he'd seen then put on his seatbelt and started the car.
He took out his cell phone and talked as he drove. A buddy from his Air Force days was stationed in Colorado Springs. He gave him a call to ask a favor. Rather than wait until he got home, he stopped at an office supply store and faxed the sketches to his friend.
As he came out, his stomach grumbled letting him know he was neglecting his responsibilities to keep it well-fed and happy. Pulling into the nearest fast food franchise, he ordered the number six combo with the upsize. The fries were all gone by the time he got home and the burger was a little cold by then, but he ate it anyway. He got out of his clothes, took a shower, dressed for bed and lay there a long time thinking about everything he'd seen and heard tonight.
Sitting up, he grabbed his cell from the bedside table hitting the speed dial keyed to his supervisor's number. "Sergeant Lorne here, sir. Do you still need volunteers to work the peace conference?"
Atlantis
Pegasus
Jennifer stepped through the Stargate into the Gate Room of Atlantis and took a deep breath. Amanda Cole was there to welcome her home and get her caught up on what had happened while she was gone. It was the same old thing. Caldwell's team had been in the Infirmary twice in one week, Teldy's team had been taken captive and had to be rescued-third time in five months, and Elizabeth had negotiated a treaty with new allies. The only thing different was the Wraith. They'd been strangely quiet the last few weeks while she, Rodney, Radek and the others were on Earth.
Naturally, that brought her around to John and the strange attraction she felt for him. Every time she was close to him, her composure decided it needed a break and took off without leaving a forwarding address. That's why she'd come home, to put distance between them. Most people would just avoid that person, change jobs or move to another city. She came to another galaxy.
Thankfully, work took her mind off her troubles for a while. But always there, in the back of her mind, lingered a pair of hazel eyes and a crooked smile she didn't see enough of.
Area 52
Two Days Later
Derek finished checking John's pupil reactions, clicked off the penlight and stuck it in his breast pocket. Next he probed the area under John's jaws around to the sides of his neck. Letting the rail down, he asked John to sit on the side of the bed while he tested the deep tendon reflexes. All were good and John made no comments until Derek wanted to check his gag reflex. He held the wooden tongue depressor ready to employ it, but John just stared at him. "Open please."
For an answer, John snatched the thin piece of wood from Derek's hand, broke it in half and dropped the pieces on the floor. Crossing his arms defiantly, John continued to stare.
"O-kay. We don't really need to do that one." He put the earpieces of his stethoscope in his ears. "Lift your shirt, please." John did as he was told, grudgingly it seemed. Pressing the diaphragm to his patient's chest, Derek said, "Deep breath in…and out. In…and out. Once more please." Reaching up under the back of the scrub top, Derek preformed the same task. "Lungs sound good."
"Gee, thanks."
The amount of sarcasm and snappishness in just that one word gave Derek mental pause though he didn't halt his work. John had reached the next stage of his recovery: anger and depression. And a little surliness went a long way, especially with him. The night nurse, Dora, had notated that he'd refused to let her adjust his pillow or bedclothes for him though he'd been more than happy to allow it before. She'd whispered "fine" under her breath, and left the room when he'd ordered her out. It hadn't been a big deal as he was no longer in critical condition so she'd gone back to the station to keep watch on the monitor.
When the sun came up, she'd gone in for one more check of her patient and found he was already awake. Or rather still awake. Again he refused to eat though Dora had ordered the food anyway. She set the tray in front of him and walked away. John uttered an oath and she found herself ducking when he hurled a container of juice at the wall. Even in his weakened state, he still retained a fair amount of strength. The box had burst raining orange juice over a ten foot square area, some of it going in her hair. When Derek had come in, the poor girl was just finishing the clean-up and muttering something about not getting paid enough.
"Please lie down, Detective. I need to examine your wounds."
"No."
"Excuse me?"
Putting emphasis on each word, John glared at the doctor. "I said no. No more tests. No blood. No urine. No spit. No poking. No prodding. No needles. Nothing. Just leave me the hell alone!" He threw himself down on the bed, facing away from the door and from the camera. When Derek reached over to raise the rail according to procedure, John's voice held a warning, "Leave it down or I will hurt you."
Hands up palms facing out, Derek left the room. After he was gone, John slipped his hand under the pillow and pulled out the pendant. Turning it over, he read the inscription he knew better than his own name. His hand closed around it as he lay there trying not to think about the twelve lives that had ended because of him. Thirteen, counting his own. But he couldn't. They haunted his dreams every night.
To Caitlin
Happy 16th
Love, Mom & Dad
~~O~~
The guards at the entrance to Area 52 watched the solid black Viper with tinted windows coming toward them way faster than it should have on the access road. They didn't even bat an eye when it skidded to a stop just one inch from the barrier. Three heavily armed men in khaki camouflage approached the car, one at each front window and one at the back. Both windows buzzed down and the occupant produced her ID with one hand while the other popped the trunk.
"How's it hangin', boys?" Tish said to the men with a musical lilt to her voice.
"Same as always, ma'am." Holding his automatic weapon at the ready, Guard One gave her a small smile. "Short, shriveled and a little to the left." He waited while she got out of the car then held out a bioscanner as she pressed her right palm on the surface and her thumb into the recess provided. The bioscanner checked handprints, biosignatures, DNA and for the presence of naqahdah in the bloodstream, comparing it to the records in the database for that particular person from the most recent "clean" scan.
Guard Two checked the car's interior then came around to run a scanner over her body. Guard Three searched the trunk then walked all the way around the vehicle with a hand-held scanner. All clear. He nodded to the first guard.
Her wry grin made her eyes sparkle. "Nothin' much changes around here, does it, Sarge?"
"No, ma'am. And that's just the way we like it." The scanner beeped and Guard One checked the results. "Looks like you're you, Dr. Adams. No snakes in your head and you're not a clone."
She sighed in exaggerated relief and grinned as she got back into the driver's seat. "Thanks. I was just the teeniest bit worried after my stay in Toronto."
"Yes, ma'am." He signaled, the gates opened and she drove through, again skidding to a stop in her assigned parking space. Swinging her legs out, she pulled off her sneakers and put on the heels from the passenger seat. She stood, swung her purse over her shoulder, smoothed her skirt down over her hips then closed and locked the car before entering the building.
~~O~~
When Tish was gone, the guys gathered together and kept watching the back of her car. Guard One, a First Sergeant of the Marines, glanced at the man to his left. "Are you sure you saw what you think you saw?"
The man, a Corporal and a little shorter than his superior, was nodding vigorously. "Absolutely, Sarge. She was sittin' on his desk, her legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed in back, her hands all up in his hair, and she was kissin' the livin' daylights outa him. I mean, they were so close together, I bet he could tell if she has an innie or an outie right through their clothes."
Guard Three looked at Guard Two, completely dumfounded. "Man! He is one lucky SOB."
"Yeah." With a sigh, Guard One signaled them back to their duties.
~~O~~
For the past few days, John had been watching videos provided by Woolsey. The first set had been made by Dr. Daniel Jackson, an archaeologist, and later by Lieutenant Colonel Charles Kowalski. The orientation videos explained the history of the Stargate program beginning with its discovery on a dig in Giza in 1928. The first Earth human to use it was Dr. Ernest Littlefield in 1945. He was never seen again.
In spite of his circumstances, he'd found himself intrigued and had watched avidly when not sleeping or being poked, prodded and fussed over by doctors and nurses, aggravated by the likes of Magee or flirted with by random women he met in the hall. Though he had to admit he'd gotten quite a kick out of the incident with McKay and Carter. Then there was the beautiful doctor, the angel who blushed so adorably. Adorable? What the hell's wrong with me? I haven't used that word since…
Afghanistan
2004
John had never felt so calm and relaxed. And it had everything to do with the woman cuddled against his side, his arm around her shoulders. He wasn't talking about the sex. Well, not just the sex. That was part of it but not the whole picture.
He let his fingertips gently brush back and forth on her upper arm below the edge of her tan tank top making her sigh. Her legs were curled under, one knee resting on top of his thigh, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Content to stay just like this as long as he could, he was a little annoyed when she sat up forcing him to remove his arm.
"John, I need you to do something for me."
"Sure. Wanna do it here or should we go to your tent?" He winced when she punched his arm. "Ow!"
"Big baby!" She giggled then became serious again. Removing the pendant he'd never seen her without, she held it in the palm of her hand for a moment. "My squad is headed out tomorrow. We'll be gone over a month in an area of heavy fighting. If something should happen to me…"
"It won't."
"I know. My guys take good care of me. But if it does, I want you to give this to my parents. Tell them I missed them every day and that I love them."
"Cait…" he didn't want to talk, to think about this, about the fact that every minute they were in this place could be their last.
"John, please." She got up and walked to the table that served as a desk. The rustle of bedclothes and the thump of his feet on the floor preceded his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. His hands moved down and around her waist. She turned within the circle of his embrace, reaching up to touch his cheeks. "Promise me." Feeling his reluctance, she forced him to look at her. His shoulders had stiffened at the contact, but now slumped in reluctant agreement.
"How can I resist that adorable smile?" He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her lips then she let her head rest on his shoulder. "Now, about that other request…"
~~O~~
Tish followed the main hall until she came to the door marked "R. Woolsey, Director of Operations." After a perfunctory knock, she entered leaving the door open. "Mornin'."
Woolsey was behind his desk tapping away at his computer. "Good morning." A slip of paper fluttered to the desk and she turned to go, stopping when she heard an exhale of amused irritation. "Again?"
"Sorry, Dickie Darling. I was on the way back from…"
He raised a hand to stop her explanation. "Say no more. What is it, three years?"
She nodded, her long dark hair swinging forward over her shoulders. "As least Mystique didn't cry the entire time like the last two years."
"I'm glad." His brown eyes watched her musingly, his lips turning up in a small smile. "Thanks for coming back."
"Not a problem. I was getting bored traveling all over North America, influencing young, impressionable minds and staying in five-star hotels in exotic places like Maui, Vancouver, Palo Alto and Cedar Hill, Texas." Her tone was playful as she gave him a grin before shutting the door quietly behind her.
Her first stop was the Commissary. She picked up the coffee pot, sniffed the contents and shrugged as she filled the sustainable coffee mug she'd taken from her purse. On her way out, she grabbed one of the sandwiches leftover from the night shift and an apple, taking a crunchy bite as she headed for her office.
~~O~~
Richard stared at the closed door, shaking his head as he picked up the speeding ticket. His eyes widened at the speed she'd been going when the cop stopped her and set the ticket aside so he'd remember to call his contact in the department.
Hands stilled on the keys of his computer, he remembered the first time he'd seen her. She'd had her hair up in a twist, no make-up, flat shoes, slacks and a long sleeved top, all in black like her hair. A bright yellow pencil, the only hint of color, had been stuck in her twist.
Her smile at meeting him had been bright, spontaneous and sincere. Unlike most people who assessed him based on his reputation or what they'd been told, she seemed to make no judgments. Eventually, he found out that that was exactly the case. She didn't judge, just let you be you and with the occasional well-placed word of encouragement, offer to be a sounding board or probing question managed to slowly change you into the person you wanted to be, were meant to be. And that, among other things, is what he liked most about her. It was the main reason he'd hired her as the facility's staff psychologist. He went back to work with a smile on his face.
~~O~~
"Please, Detective Sheppard." Ana stood beside John's bed with the phlebotomy kit. Derek had ordered blood drawn for tests but the patient wasn't cooperating. The tech had already been in and he'd sent the man away with a few well-chosen words. She'd dealt with stubborn men at the SGC, but this one took the whole damn bakery!
"No! And stop calling me that! I'm not a detective anymore." His was sitting up in bed, arms crossed and chin lifted in defiance.
Ana huffed loudly, not caring if he knew she was irritated. "Fine! What should I call you?"
"A freakin' cab so I can get out of here."
"Sure. No problem." She turned for the door then came back. "Just out of curiosity, where would you go?"
That took some of the wind out of his sails, but just a little. "Haven't figured that part out yet." He pushed the table away with a hard shove and it rolled into the middle of the room. They left the rail down on one side even though it was policy for it to be kept up when the bed was occupied. Before she could stop him, he threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side. "If you won't get me a cab, I'll walk."
Pressing his knuckles into the mattress on either side of his hips, he got to his feet and took two steps before his legs gave out. Ana dropped the kit on the chair and managed to catch him under the arms. His hands gripped her upper arms as she levered him back onto the bed. "Let that be a lesson to you, Detective. You've been on bed rest for a while now. Add that to the gunshot wounds, concussion, surgery and lack of food and it means you don't go anywhere without help." She snagged the kit from the chair again. "Now, about that blood sample…"
"The answer is still no. And I want my doctor."
"You don't have a primary care physician any more. You lost that when you quit your job. And he probably wouldn't have clearance."
"I mean Ang…Keller. Until I see her, you're not gettin' squat."
Atlantis Infirmary
Jennifer finished tying off the last stitch on Ronon's forehead, covered it and sent him on his way with one eyebrow lifted in reprimand, which he ignored now as he had in the past. She disposed of the soiled gauze and wrappings and was just pulling her gloves off when Amanda joined her.
"Jen, there's a priority message from Dr. Slater."
"Oh?"
The right side of her mouth curled. "Yeah. That hunky detective they've got in Area 52 is asking for you."
Jennifer couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks pink. "Um, w-w-why would he want to see me?"
"Aside from the fact that you blush and get all tongue-tied whenever he's mentioned, you tell me." Amanda looped her arm through Jennifer's and drew her to the Infirmary exit. "You're expected immediately so pack and get out of here. Carson, Cedric and I can handle things while you're gone."
"But…"
Amanda adopted a mock stern expression, pointing down the hall. "Go."
San Francisco
North of the City
The chair in front of the computer swung around and the woman in the seat smiled evilly. "Everything is in place?"
"Yes, Jendayi. My host has been accepted as part of the local security force for the peace conference. He will see to it that everything goes as planned." With a smile that mirrored the system lord's, the man who was once James Anthony bowed. "There will be an orientation gathering today where we will be given the specifics of the conference and our assignments. I must go in order to arrive on time."
"Then do so and report back using the secure line."
Again, Anthony bowed. "Yes, my lady."
Area 52
Infirmary
"I said no! Now leave me the hell alone!"
Jennifer entered the ward just in time to see the CD player fly through the air and smash against the wall. Without changing her expression, she looked at it then turned to face John who was still glaring at Ana and Derek. "Hmm. Not as aerodynamic as I thought."
"What do you want?"
Funny, he didn't sound happy to see her. Keeping her distance so his nearness wouldn't disturb her train of thought, she pulled on her me-doctor-you-patient mask. "There's a rumor going around that you've been a bad boy, Detective."
"News flash, doc. It's not a rumor." His entire demeanor was one of irate stubbornness.
"You know, far be it for me to point this out, Detective, but by not cooperating, you run not only the risk of delaying your recovery, but also having Mr. Woolsey change his mind about letting you do it here." She almost took a step back at the acrimony in his words.
"Big f***ing deal! I never asked you or anyone else to save my life! Why didn't you just leave me in the desert to die? We'd've all been better off."
Jennifer wanted to cry at his last statement. He needed someone to be a friend but also have a firm hand while handling him. If that's what it takes… Stepping up to his bedside, she rested one hand the bed near his pillow. "I'm sorry you see so little value in your continued existence, John…" she deliberately used his first name, "…but obviously Rodney and Mr. Woolsey do or you wouldn't be here." When he tried to speak, she cut him off by taking his hand, surprised when he gripped it back. In that moment, their eyes connected and within the depths of those hazel orbs she could see the real fear that he tried to keep hidden, had kept hidden for years, possibly decades. "Ana's going to take some blood and afterwards, she'll get you a tray. Eat every bite no matter what it tastes like."
"And if I don't?"
She shrugged. "Up to you. But remember, you have no job, no home and no money. As they say, do the math." She watched him think it over and accept the terms. "That's better. I'll be back to check on you every couple of days so you don't have to send for me.
"Oh, and the physical therapist will be around to help you shower and change then he'll take you for a walk. His name is Sonny and he used to be a professional wrestler." She released his hand though he kept hold for another couple of seconds. "Don't upset him or he'll demonstrate his flying crossbody." Bending down, she picked up the pieces of the CD player.
"And what about you, Angel?"
"What about me what?"
"Do you see any value in my continued existence?"
Damn! She'd almost gotten away. "I'm a doctor. All life has value." His face took on a smirk her fingers itched to slap off.
"That's not what I asked."
"Well, that's the only answer you're getting." Indicating the broken CD player, she added, "I'll see if Rodney or Radek can fix this."
~~O~~
John had eaten his first meal in more than twenty-four hours by the time Sonny had come in to take him for a shower and a fresh set of scrubs. Now he and Sonny were walking the length of the hall. He'd tried it on his own, but just like earlier with Ana, he'd almost fallen. So here he was, one hand on the rail, Sonny beside him, one meaty hand holding tight to the safety belt as they slowly made the return trip to the wheelchair.
"How about you let me try the last couple of feet alone?"
"Sure. It's no skin offa my nose if ya break yer neck." Despite the way he talked, Sonny was intelligent and very knowledgeable about his job. And strong!
"Thanks. Just don't tell Keller."
"Not a word."
Though his thighs and calves were shaking from the effort, John managed to take three steps on his own. However, when he brought his foot down on the next step, his leg gave way and he fell face first to the carpet just inches before it turned into tile. Over the sound of Sonny's laughter, he heard the click, click of high heels coming to a stop in front of him. Getting his hands under his shoulders preparing to rise, he looked up to see a pair of four-inch strappy black leather stilettos. The toes peeking out at him wiggled startling him. He'd only gotten as far as her ankles when a female voice filled with amusement floated down from above.
"If I had a nickel for every time a man has thrown himself at my feet…"
TBC