A/N: Thanks go out, as always, to ladygris. Her insights into the characters helped make this a better chapter. She is patient and tolerant of someone who can be a pest at the best of times. We won't go into what can happen at the worst of times. ;-) If you want that information, just talk to my younger siblings. I'm sure they'll go into great detail about what it's like to have me as a sister.
Dwparsnip was a big help as well, advising and critiquing when time permitted in his busy schedule.
Shadows-of-Realm was just a big meanie.
Enjoy,
Sandy
Not a Hero
Chapter 28
Broken Dreams
John stumbled forward, slammed in the back when the shotgun blast struck Evan, a shot from his Zat going wild and damaging the boiler. In front of him, Nabirye jerked backward as well, landing half on the steps leading to the outside. If he'd had the time, he'd have gagged at the sight of gore splattered across the walls, windows and floor of the boiler room, but he didn't.
A grunt and a groan turned him to the door. Jack was leaning against the doorjamb, the sound of running telling John that the two remaining hosts had taken off now that their leader was dead. He knelt down next to Evan, shoving the Zat into his back pocket. "Lorne!" His hands hovered over the wound without touching it, not certain what, if anything, he should do. He started to take off his shirt in order to staunch the flow of blood, but Lorne's grip on his wrist stopped him.
"Not as bad as it looks. Go!" Evan's voice was strained and John was still reluctant to leave his partner. "Dammit, Sheppard! GO!"
With a quick nod, John surged to his feet, the Zat already back in his hand. He stopped long enough to speak to Jack. "Lorne's been injured. Call an ambulance and stay with him. And whatever you do, don't go near the woman." He squeezed his shoulder to make sure he had the older man's attention. "I mean it."
The stairwell door slammed behind him as he pounded down the stairs, jumping over the last few steps of each flight thankful for the gripping tread of the sneakers he'd started wearing in place of the boots he'd favored before.
Though he tried to keep his mind focused on the chase, a part of him had already begun mourning the loss of his partner. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that a gut shot at close range would more than likely be fatal. Lorne had been hit with a shotgun blast at less than three meters and that spelled dead in John's experience. John had already killed the man's wife and child. It wasn't fair that Lorne had to die too.
John's mind returned to the Goa'uld he was chasing as he reached the first floor. Using the post at the bottom of the stairs for leverage, he rounded the corner at a full run, skidding to a stop as he came face to face with the hosts, the blonde still holding the Magnum now pointed at his chest. He knew that, by leaving his brain intact, she'd be able to use him for a host.
Not gonna happen!
Another plan formed in John's mind. A life-altering somebody's-gonna-die-and-I-hope-it's-not-me-but-it-probably-will-be kind of plan. If there seemed no way to avoid being implanted, he'd shoot them and himself in the head before allowing it to take place. At least then he'd maybe make some sort of amends.
"Going somewhere, ladies?" They smiled at him and he didn't like the looks of it. He didn't like any of this but he had a job to do and he'd be damned if he'd let the fact that he was outnumbered be a deterrent.
"We ran in the hopes that you would chase us leaving Nabirye to join with the younger human male. If that is not possible, she will take the older human. With her influence, he will be in better health than he has ever been and will live a much longer life than he would have as an unjoined human."
Aiming his Zat at them, John grinned as if he held all the cards in this game, bluffing like he'd never bluffed before. He repeated his earlier thoughts out loud. "Not gonna happen. You know, I just had a thought. I can't keep referring to you as ladies because we know you're not and 'snakeheads' is too…I just don't like it. How about Thing One and Thing Two?" He knew it was the wrong thing to say before he'd even opened his mouth, but he didn't really care at this point in their little standoff. He was pissed!
The brunette took a step toward him, her companion stopping her with a commanding gesture. "That will not be necessary. I am Pili and this is Mosi. You will address us by our names."
Adjusting his stance, John shook his head. "You'll always be Thing One and Thing Two to me. Think of them as terms of offense rather than endearment." His tone was sarcastic but Pili and Mosi didn't seem to catch on. Not that it mattered. This would all be over soon, one way or another.
He was about to continue with more semi-friendly banter in hopes of distracting them further when the scuff of a shoe drew his attention. A moment later, he was desperately trying to maintain his mental equilibrium. Through the influence of a symbiote, he heard the voice of his partner.
"It is time for you to die, John Sheppard."
~~O~~
*No!* Evan shouted inside his mind, now shared with a creature from another world.
**But you have much animosity for this human. On many occasions you have wished for him to…**
*I won't let you kill him.* He felt her contempt and scornful laughter.
**And how will you stop me?**
He concentrated and found that he had a very small measure of influence though it was countermanded by the symbiote almost immediately. But it gave him hope when he thought all had been lost. *You're not as strong as you thought.*
Nabirye became confused as she felt her grip on Evan's mind slip even more. **What-what is happening? I-I feel…odd. There is a strange sensation…**
Focusing all his energy on pushing back, Evan was able to move his right arm so the Zat was no longer aimed at John's head. It dropped down so it now pointed at John's mid-back and slowly lowered until it came to his side. His fingers opened and the Zat clattered to the floor. *Look who's in charge now!*
In a move of desperation, Nabirye's determination rushed to the fore and she forced Evan to attack his partner. John turned only just able to get his arms up in time to brace himself for the impact, his Zat flying away. The men grappled, Nabirye managing to land a few blows to John's torso. The fist aimed at his face was blocked almost too late, glancing off the side of his jaw.
Instead of trying to stop what Nabirye was doing, Evan focused his attention on the weirdness creeping into their combined consciousness using it to mitigate the strength of the attack. Something was causing her influence over him to slip and he used it to his benefit.
**You cannot win! I am Goa'uld! A god! The superiority of our race has been proven!**
*Not to me it hasn't.* The internal and external struggles continued until Nabirye weakened enough for Evan to end the fighting. *You're just a parasite. What 'superiority' do you have without me?*
**My-my mind is becoming…unclear. Stop what you are doing!**
*Why? You'll die?* Evan heard the affirmative even though she never answered. *Hmm. Let me think about that for a bit.* As the seconds ticked by, he started taking back control of his body. And within that control, it was becoming less difficult to override the influence Nabirye had exerted over him since the implantation. *Nope. You're gonna die. Thanks for healing me, by the way.*
**Uhnh…it is in your blood. It contains a genetic anomaly. I have heard tales of humans who were immune to the blending, but have always thought it a myth.** A groan gurgled out of her throat, out of Evan's throat. **I-I must leave your body or…or…"
One last powerful mental push and only the smallest spark of life remained within the symbiote. Like someone who'd been rendered brain-dead though their body refused to stop working, she lived on inside him but she no longer controlled him, would never control him again. And if the tradeoff was having her body in his brain, Evan would take it. At least until they could figure out how to get her out. If they could get her out.
~~O~~
Moving slowly so he wouldn't startle Thing One and Thing Two, John glanced over his shoulder at Evan. The face that seldom showed anything more than mild emotion was grinning in triumph. He did his best not to take a step back when the blue eyes flashed. They flashed again and again, the grin changing to one of confusion then to determination. Small movements, twitches, turned into spasms seeming to indicate an internal struggle just before Evan attacked him.
He protected himself as much as possible while at the same time trying not to reinjure his partner's body. They got into a clinch, the front of John's shirt becoming wet with blood from where Evan had been shot. The massive wound had been healed by the symbiote so his life was no longer in danger. But the price he'd paid, being dominated by Nabirye, just wouldn't do in John's accounting of checks and balances. His side of the ledger was already filled with debts he had yet to atone for and would not be added to, if he could help it.
Suddenly, Evan stopped grappling with him, stepping back, his arms dropping to his sides. One corner of his mouth turned up revealing to John that his partner was once again himself. He'd worry about the how later. They exchanged a nod, turning quickly when grunts of surprise and the sounds of fighting came from the others.
~~O~~
Snarled cries of anger in two different voices came a mere second before Pili and Mosi were attacked. They fought back as if their lives depended on it.
Pili hung onto the Magnum as long as possible but her attacker was much stronger than her host, overpowering them in short order. The weapon was wrenched from her hand, breaking several of the fingers. She suppressed the pain impulses as she struggled futilely until a shouted order came from Nabirye in the male human. Another clipped order chased the first but this one confused her as it was intended for someone else.
"Let her go!"
The release came so abruptly she stumbled. A moment later, a bolt from the Zat in Nabirye's hand rendered her unconscious.
~~O~~
Mosi cried out when a body slightly heavier and much taller than hers grabbed her from behind. Though she fought back with everything she had, her attacker had obviously had some training in hand-to-hand as she was unable to secure an advantage.
Luck came her way just for an instant and she pounced on it, turning to face her opponent. Her left hand shot out but wasn't allowed to hit its target. Instead, her wrist was captured and she was turned to face Nabirye. Surprise showed on her face briefly as her left arm was wrapped around her own throat and the left arm of her attacker slipped underneath, the hand settling on the back of her head pushing her forward, cutting off her air. Spots appeared in front of her eyes. Consciousness stuttered then closed down completely. She didn't feel it when her body sank to the floor next to Pili's.
~~O~~
Minor chaos ensued as everyone and everything was sorted out. The random elements to the equation waited for John and Evan to say something.
"That was perfect timing, Mr. Waligorski. You and your son couldn't have done it better if it had been planned."
The hotel owner gave John an awkward and slightly shy smile while the boy crossed his arms and looked smug. "You gotta do what you gotta do, Mr. Sheppard. The Verde Point Hotel prides itself on providing exceptional customer service. Allowing one guest to shoot another, well, we just couldn't let it happen. And call me Max." A small hand slipped into the one not holding the Magnum. "This is my wife Clara and that tall drink of water over there is our son Benny."
Clara gasped at the blood on John. "Sorry, ma'am. Cut myself shaving." He pulled his shirt off leaving on the slightly soiled T-shirt. "Um, Benny, where did you learn that sleeper hold?"
The teenager grinned and shrugged, a little embarrassed. "YouTube."
They all laughed at that matter-of-fact statement from the boy until movement behind them announced the arrival of Jack and his friends.
~~O~~
Arthur saw Evan's very bloody clothes though they'd yet to be noticed by the Waligorski family. He and Sawyer had been briefed on what had been happening. And though they'd both taken it with a bit of skepticism at first, Jack had been proven right on all accounts.
Slipping off his shirt, he handed it to Evan who nodded and put it on, quickly buttoning up the front while Jack made introductions.
"Boys, this is Arthur Mayfield. He's the pastor for the non-denominational church in Pealertown. A little long-winded at times, but a good friend. And of course you both know Sawyer Hartley."
~~O~~
Sheppard didn't say a word, barely even acknowledged Sawyer's presence. Not that he'd expected John to react any differently. No good reason existed for him to want to speak to the man who'd destroyed his life, but he had to find a way to get Sheppard alone, to let him know that he'd taken steps to clear his name. It wouldn't change the past but it might make his future brighter though he seemed to have begun the process on his own, if what Jack had told him about aliens that could take over your mind was true. He had no reason not to believe his lifelong friend. Jack was old, not senile and definitely not given to flights of fancy.
Still, he had to do something to compensate his former junior officer for the suffering he'd had to endure since his trial.
"Sheppard?"
John turned from speaking to the hotel owner and his family, his back stiffening though his eyes were unreadable. "What?"
These were the first words they'd exchanged since just after the crash. They'd never spoken during the trial and for good reason. "John…" he trailed off.
The brunette was getting to her knees, her outraged eyes flashed, startling Sawyer. He'd never completely believed Jack's story. But now he did. He also believed that the woman, alien, whatever, had malicious intentions. That belief was confirmed when she rammed her shoulder into Max's stomach sending him tumbling into Clara and pushing them both up against the wall, his arms around his wife to keep her from falling, and taking her gently to the floor to hopefully present a smaller target. In doing so, he loosened his hold on the Magnum. She twisted it from his grip, thumbed the hammer back and pointed it at Jack.
"You will allow us to leave or the old one will die."
No one moved though Sawyer felt the tension surge in all of them, particularly John. By the way John's eyes looked from the woman holding the weapon to Jack, he knew the hot-headed young chopper pilot was still inside and he was about to do something stupid. Moving just his forefinger, he touched the back of John's hand, making the smallest shake of his head when their eyes met. Without responding, John indicated acceptance.
"Nabirye?" Mosi inquired, needing confirmation that her companion was indeed joined to the male.
A collective gasp came from the Waligorskis, Arthur, and to a lesser extent, John when Evan's eyes flashed, his voice deepening. "Yes. Give me the weapon, Pili."
Mosi's expression hardened, her chin lifting, the Magnum now pointed at John. "Nabirye would know Pili resides within that host." She nodded at the blonde still huddled on the floor. "Perhaps I should kill your friend instead."
Several things happened at once.
Mosi pulled the trigger.
John was shoved to the side where he fell onto a small round table. It collapsed and the vase of silk flowers smashed against the wall sending shards of glass in all directions.
A black Glock appeared in Evan's right hand, his left one coming up to steady it as he fired three quick shots into Mosi's host's head, her body slumping again to the floor. Condensation on the inside of the window next to her mixed with the blood splatters, drops of red chasing each other down the glass.
Benny dropped to his knees, his arms encircling his parents as if he could protect them.
Jack and Arthur stared at Sawyer as one hand came up to the blossom of bright red on his chest. His knees buckled dropping him to the floor next to John.
John rolled to his knees next to his former commanding officer as together he and Evan turned him onto his back. Blood trickled out the side of his mouth leaving a thin trail along his jaw, a smaller form of the puddle now soaking into the cracks between the slats of wood and the edges of the carpet.
Sawyer reached a trembling hand toward John who took it in his. Coughing made the blood flow faster. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "Sorry…John…"
No one had noticed that the storm had ended.
~~O~~
The hand holding John's went limp as Sawyer breathed his last.
"Sorry? What's he sorry for?" Evan, again himself, asked.
Not answering, John bowed his head. To the others it probably looked like he was saying a prayer for Sawyer. But that was far from the truth. The one person who could have cleared him was dead. Another dream broken.
"Sheppard?"
John laid the hand he was still holding on the bloody chest, reached over and brought the other one up to rest on top of the first. He took a deep breath and stood. "Is everyone alright?" After receiving affirmative replies from all but Pili and Mosi, he turned in a circle until he found the exit to the veranda. He tossed his Glock to Evan and hit the door.
Outside, he stepped over and around the debris and overturned deck chairs, tables and trashcans. He didn't bother with the short flight of stairs down to the beach, just vaulted over the railing landing firmly in the sand. He walked quickly toward the beach where people were already milling around telling their tales of survival, taking off his shoes, socks, T-shirt and pants as he went, removing anything that would hold him back.
Breaking into a run, he headed for the water veering to the right at the last second. His speed increased until he was running so fast that everyone and everything was a blur.
~~O~~
Evan chased after his partner, concern in his blue eyes. He watched from the veranda as John shed his clothes and took off running, disappearing into the distance. Feeling someone come to stand next to him, he wasn't surprised to see Jack beside him.
"Leave him be, son. He'll come back when he's ready. Come inside. Mrs. W is making dinner while we menfolk clean up the mess." Evan looked surprised making Jack laugh. "We know this whole thing'll be covered up by your bosses, son, so don't be coy."
Nodding, Evan stepped onto the sand. "Be right there." He gathered up his partner's clothes, shook as much of the sand off as possible, went back inside and straight to his room. After a quick shower and change of clothes, he returned to the first floor.
~~O~~
Setting his plate on the desk, Evan took out his cell phone. He stared at it working out how he would explain to Woolsey, the SGC and, by extension, the OAB the events that had just transpired. With Sheppard AWOL, it was up to him to at least get the ball rolling. This was the sort of report one gave in person but he wouldn't be able to transport without setting off alarms and causing a lockdown due to the security measures set up to keep Goa'uld and any number of other nasties out of Earth's super-secret facilities.
And now he was one. Sort of. The symbiote within him was not dead. It was in what would be called a coma in a human. The brain still functioned on a minimal level. He had access to the memories from the previous hosts, but not hers, not the genetic memory of the entire Goa'uld race. That was a good thing as he did not want to be used a guinea pig, or worse. She had no influence over him and never would again. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Checking the time, he hit Woolsey's speed dial. His boss answered on the first ring and Evan swore under his breath having momentarily entertained the idea that he could leave a quick message with Sheila for a later call-back.
"Lorne, sir. Since my last check-in, the situation has been resolved…There were a total of three fatalities so we'll need a clean-up crew and possible intervention with the media…One hotel employee and two guests…We have positive IDs on all three. You should know that the male deceased was a retired Air Force officer. Colonel Sawyer Hartley…yes, sir. He was killed by one of the Goa'uld…I'd be happy to come to Area 52, sir, but there's a complication…No, Sheppard is fine. He's stepped outside to check the perimeter now that the storm is over, but should be back soon…It would probably be best to explain the complication within the context of the report, sir."
He waited while Woolsey started the official recording. Evan gave the date and location of the incident, listed the names of the agents involved and began, pausing when he came to the conflict in the boiler room. "Sheppard and I confronted the suspected Goa'uld host, a hotel employee by the name of Beth Redfoot, in the boiler room. At the time, we had knowledge of at least two hosts. The symbiote, Nabirye, refused to surrender peacefully…"
~~O~~
Arthur stood at the window, hands in his pockets, watching John sit on the steps wearing just his boxers, tossing pebbles, seashells, twigs, whatever he could reach. When he stopped, that same hand rubbed through his hair and down to the back of his neck. If ever there was a troubled soul, it was his. Going to the door, he let himself out, making no effort to hide his approach.
John looked up and Arthur took that as an invitation to join him. He seated himself next to the younger man with a groan, letting his eyes roam over the landscape. "You know, even with the damage from the storm, the beach is a beautiful place. One of our Lord's greatest creations, in my humble opinion." Not even a grunt came from his companion. He knew he had his attention though.
"In my younger days, my buddies and I would drive down to Ditch Plains or Gilgo Beach and spend the weekend surfing. Haven't done that since just after college. Been too busy to enjoy some of life's simpler pleasures." John still didn't respond, had barely moved, so Arthur kept talking. "One day, just past my sixteenth birthday, the waves were crankin' and I'd just dropped in through the backdoor of a major beach break. I was preparing for a cutback when I wiped out.
"My head hit the board and while I was unconscious, an angel came to me. She told me to trust in the Lord and everything would be fine. In the bible, when angels are mentioned, they're usually referred to as 'he', but to this day I believe the one that came to me was female. She had long white-blonde hair, the prettiest smile I've ever seen, aside from my departed Rosemary's, and eyes that sparkled as if a piece of the sun had been captured inside." He let the memory flow over him again. "Until then I'd never been much for going to church. Fell asleep during the message more than a few times.
"But in that single moment, I saw…everything. Everything I'd been, everything I was…and everything I was meant to be. From that moment on, I lived my life, and no pun intended, son, as a shepherd for the Lord.
"Now I know what you think this is about, John, that this shepherd is trying to turn you into one of his flock. But that isn't so. God wants you to come to him willingly. Not do it to please someone else or because you were guilted into it. It has to be your decision and yours alone.
"Just remember, you may not believe in Him…but He believes in you, and someday I hope you'll see that as the truth." Slanting his eyes to the side, he found John looking at him, his eyes narrowed in thought though he still hadn't responded.
Slapping his thighs, Arthur stood and stretched. "Guess I'll go back inside. If you're hungry, dinner's been made. That Clara is a miracle worker in the kitchen considering there's still no electricity." He'd only gone a few steps when John finally spoke.
"Sir, do you think normal everyday people hear God? Even people like me?"
Returning to lean on the railing, the pastor gazed into the distance as if gathering his thoughts. "We all hear God, son. It's just that most of us don't listen to what He's saying."
~~O~~
The meal Mrs. Waligorski prepared sat uneaten while Evan stared out the window. The sun was finally coming out now that the power had been restored, and people were venturing into the streets. Tow trucks were being utilized to drag downed trees off the roads while city crews and what looked like ragtag groups of volunteers removed the smaller items. A group of adults were righting picnic tables and trashcans from the public beach next door while kids and pre-teens picked up trash and branches.
Turning away from the scene below, he glanced at the clock. Woolsey, a medical team and a cleanup crew were on their way. Normally, they'd just transport who and what they needed but this wasn't a normal situation. They would come from MacDill AFB in Tampa and Evan already knew from the news reports on the radio that getting over the Howard Franklin Bridge would take some time. A freighter had broken loose from its moorings and narrowly missed hitting the main bridge supports on one side. Until it could be removed, the opposite side had been turned into a two-way. Police from both sides of Tampa Bay were monitoring to keep traffic moving smoothly.
He'd confined himself to his room, avoiding the staff and other guests just in case he wasn't as free of Nabirye as he thought. Not that it would keep him from getting out if he really wanted to, but it made him feel better to be away from the others.
While he waited, he thought over the events, particularly the time where he was controlled by the symbiote. He'd spent a lifetime suppressing, holding everything in reserve for later scrutiny. He didn't want to examine the things he'd experienced, but knew he needed to. Later, he'd speak to Doc Adams about it, but for now he just needed to get it all straight in his head.
The main emotion was one of revulsion. He'd been violated in the worst possible way, feeling as if he'd been raped. In the end, Nabirye had been brought down by something that had its beginnings within his genetic structure only God knew how long ago. If he hadn't had the anomaly that made him immune to the joining, she'd have used his mind and body to kill and destroy and he wouldn't have been able to stop her.
Pacing around the room to work off his disgust and impatience of waiting, another emotion joined the other two: rage. It made him furious that the beings called Goa'uld thought of themselves as gods so far superior to humans that the wants and needs of their hosts meant less than nothing to them. As he'd said to Nabirye, the Goa'uld were nothing but parasites feeding off of others as easily as he would eat the food on his plate and with just as little thought.
Evan caught sight of his face in the mirror above the dresser. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. His eyes flashed just as they had when he'd impersonated Nabirye and a sense of power coursed through him as if he'd gotten a sudden jolt of adrenaline. With a growl, his fist shot out and smashed the mirror. The pain in his knuckles dissipated most of the anger as he watched the blood drip onto the top of the dresser.
In the bathroom, he hissed as the cool water stung the cuts and washed away the blood, helping to numb the area. He shut off the water, yanked a small hand towel from the bar next to the sink, and wrapped it around his hand.
Again catching his face in the mirror, he saw himself as others might at this moment. Though he didn't like the picture he presented, he laughed. "Lorne, you are definitely you. Now you gotta prove it."
Sitting at the desk, he took the cover off his food, picked up the fork and began to eat. He'd just taken the last bite and was reaching for the bottle of water when someone knocked. It was too early for Woolsey so he stuck his eye to the peephole. John, and thankfully fully dressed again. He briefly entertained the idea of not answering though he knew his partner wouldn't buy it.
"Lorne?"
"Yeah."
"Wanna open the door?" He heard John shuffle his feet. "Lorne?"
After some thought, Evan twisted the lock, removed the chain, and turned the knob, the door creaking as it swung inward. "What's up?"
"That's what I wanna know." He looked down and saw the towel wrapped around his partner's hand, little spots of blood seeping through. "What the hell happened?"
Lifting the injured appendage as if he'd forgotten about it, Evan snorted, repeating John's earlier untrue statement. "Cut myself shaving. What do you want, Sheppard? I was about to take a nap."
"Woolsey called. They'll be here soon."
"Thanks for the update." He started to close the door, John's hand coming up to stop it.
"Sure you're okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" John didn't believe him but he didn't really care. He just wanted to be alone.
The door closed and he went back to the desk. Taking the water to the window, he watched as several trucks labeled Chicken Chester's Parties and More pulled into the parking lot confusing him until he saw that one of the "drivers" was Woolsey.
Though he knew it wouldn't matter to his boss or the medical team, he brushed his teeth then sat down to wait for another knock on the door.
~~O~~
Jack and Arthur stood as Evan and John stepped out of the elevator. In addition to his duffle bag, John was carrying a paper box from which issued an irritated series of meows.
John rolled his eyes and showed the bandage on his arm. "I tried to leave her with the Waligorskis but she dug her claws in and wouldn't let go."
Grinning, Jack lifted the top off and reached inside to pet Sparky. "Like or not, son, you belong to her now. I know you'll take good care of each other."
"Just make sure I have your number in case I need to ask questions." Setting the box on the sofa, John took out his phone and handed it to Jack. By the time it was returned, Sparky had tried to get out of the box three times, only staying in if John rubbed her ears. For his obedience to her demands, he was rewarded with a loud purr.
Addressing Evan, Jack asked, "So you'll continue to do that thing with your eyes and voice?"
A shrug of one shoulder, Evan nodded, adding a sheepish grin. "So the doc tells me. I'll get used to it soon enough, I suppose."
"Mr. Woolsey needn't have asked us to sign the non-disclosure agreements. Jack and I wouldn't tell anyone what happened." Arthur didn't appear to be as annoyed as his words indicated. "No one would believe us and the church board would have me dismissed."
Returning his attention to the younger men, Jack's eyes examined Evan closely. "How about doing it once more before you go?"
Evan exchanged a glance with John who just shrugged as he once again put Sparky back in her box. Nodding, Evan stared at John as he took deep breaths, his eyes widening until they flashed. "It was interesting meeting you though I would have liked the circumstances to have been different." He shook hands with the two older men waiting while John did the same.
"Maybe we'll join your fishing trip next year."
"Be glad to have you. Now you boys take care."
The younger men exchanged an amused glance then looked back at Jack and Arthur. "No promises."
~~O~~
With Evan driving, John was able to devote all his time to keeping Sparky entertained. Not that that had been his intention, but she refused to stay in the box and when they left her out she tried to climb all over the truck's interior even getting under Evan's feet while he was driving. Eventually, she went to sleep on John's lap and stayed that way until they stopped for gas and to stretch their legs. She began crying and wouldn't stop even when John rubbed the sweet spot between her eyes. "What d'you think's wrong with her?"
Evan glanced over at his partner then back to the road. The sun was nearly down turning the clouds and horizon an orangey-pink mixed with shades of purple. "When did you feed her last?"
"Three hours ago, maybe. She probably needs water and to do her, you know, business too, I guess."
Spotting a pet store, they pulled in and, with Sparky in his arms, John went to the cat food aisle in the back, however, there were so many different kinds of food, he had no idea what to get her. Whipping out his phone, he located the contact marked "Cat Info" and dialed. A voice too young to be Jack's answered.
"Autopsy."
John only just kept himself from hanging up thinking he'd dialed the wrong number. "Who am I speaking to?"
"Jimmy Palmer, Dr. Mallard's assistant. Would you like to speak to him?"
Handing Sparky to Evan, John held the phone so both could hear. "Sure."
Jimmy called for out for Dr. Mallard who John assumed was a veterinarian. If that were true, what was he doing in a morgue? A cultured British voice came on the line. "Dr. Mallard."
"My name's John Sheppard. I was given this number by Jack Gibbs. Are you a veterinarian?"
A soft chuckle came over the line. "Oh, my, no. I'm a pathologist working for the Naval Criminal Investigative Services out of Norfolk, Virginia. Jack Gibbs is the pater familias of our fearless leader, one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I suspect that Jack was simply having a bit of fun at your expense."
"Oh." John didn't know what else to say.
"What seems to be the problem? I am quite well versed on many subjects not within the realm of my work for Jethro and the United States government."
Again Evan shrugged when John gave him a questioning look. "I, uh, just got this cat and have no idea what to feed her. Any help would be appreciated, Dr. Mallard."
"My dear boy that is an easy puzzle to solve. And call me Ducky." The pathologist questioned John extensively on the age, gender, weight and breed of cat before making recommendations.
Relieved, John started to thank Ducky but he continued to talk, seemingly without taking a breath.
"Did you know, John, that the history of our modern-day cat, Felis silvestris catus, begins with her descent from one of five separate wild cats: the Sardinian wildcat, the European wildcat, the Central Asian wildcat, the sub-Saharan African wildcat, and the Chinese desert cat?"
He didn't give John a chance to answer, continuing as if he were lecturing a class.
"Each of these species is a distinctive subspecies of Felis silvestris. Genetic analysis suggests that all domestic cats derive from at least five founder cats from the Fertile Crescent region, from whence they, or rather their descendants, were transported around the world.
"The oldest archaeological evidence for domesticated cats was found…are you still there, John? Good. Now where was I? Ah, yes. The oldest archaeological evidence for domesticated cats was found on the Greek island of Cyprus, where several animal species, including cats, were introduced by 7500 BC. Further, at the Neolithic site of Shillourokambos, a purposeful cat burial was found next to a human burial, dated between 9500-9200 years before the present…Jimmy? Hand me that bone saw, please. As I was saying…"
TBC
A/N: The info on how to do the sleeper hold came from a video found on About dot com.
Included in this chapter were lines quoted from the movie Daniel's Lot (2010) starring Gary Burghoff, Dominick Shaw and Lindsey McCabe.
The history of cat info was taken almost word for word from "Cats History and Domestication: The History of the Domestic Cat" on About dot com.