Title: Road Trip

Sub-title: Part Three: Vegas…Baby

Author: stella_pegasi

Rating: K +

Genres: Slice of life, action, hurt/comfort, friendship, humor, and !Whump, of course

Word Count: Part Three…Day One: 10, 477

Spoilers: Post-Season Five

Warnings: Language (also, very brief nudity…no, not the guys…and brief mention of implied non-con)

Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Carson Beckett

Summary: The boys take thirty-days leave and set off to see the sights. What could possibly go wrong on vacation?

Disclaimer: I do not own them; I would have treated them better.

Author's Notes: The boys are on the way to Vegas…with a stop along the way. I had intended for the Vegas stopover to be a one shot story…but, well, this segment is over 10,000 words. I decided to break the Vegas stop into, at least, two segments. There is a lot to do in Vegas.

Our boys have had a busy day. Day One of the Vegas trip is their travels to get to there, what they see and do along the way, and their first night in Vegas. There is friendship and conversation, along with some action. (I promise I didn't forget the whump.)

I hope you are enjoying Road Trip, so far. I am having fun just writing the casual events of their day and the interaction of the characters, as much as the 'what have they gotten into now' action. I hope you find the story interesting and fun, and would love to hear from you. This is only the first day of their Vegas adventure…more days to come.

Enjoy!

ROAD TRIP

by stella_pegasi

Part Three Vegas, Baby…

Day One:

Declaring that he might as well take a nap, since it was going to take Rodney forever to get to Las Vegas, John Sheppard closed his eyes, promptly falling asleep. They had only been on the road out of Bakersfield for fifteen minutes.

"He's asleep, already?"

Carson scolded the scientist, "Not so loud, Rodney. You'll wake him up; he needs to rest."

"He's faking it, so he won't have to talk to us. He can't be that exhausted; he slept almost the entire day, yesterday."

"John suffered serious trauma and injuries like that take a toll on the body. He needs to rest; sleep is the best thing for him, so you need to be quiet."

"I got punched in the stomach…but I don't get to rest."

Ronon was sitting in the front passenger's seat of the Range Rover. He scoffed, "Too much padding there for you to get hurt."

A high-pitched chortle from Carson caused Rodney to turn and glare at Carson, who was sitting behind Ronon. He was not the least bit happy seeing the doctor's impish grin. Turning back to Ronon, who was also grinning, he whined, "Har de har, har…you both think you are so funny. Well, I have a bruise, a bad bruise."

"You have a bruise. Sheppard has seventeen stitches. I have nine. Plus, Sheppard has bruised ribs and a concussion; I think he's got you beat, McKay." Ronon said, as Carson chuckled once again.

Sheppard stirred, his head slipping over to lean against the brace between the windows, as he slouched down in the seat. Carson glanced at the colonel, concerned the chatter had woken him. He was pleased that apparently, Sheppard could tune out Rodney's whining.

"Rodney, just drive and please attempt to be quieter. You should turn on a little soft music like John did for us when we were under the weather."

Grumbling, Rodney fiddled with the sat radio and found a station playing soft Brazilian jazz, "That OK, Doctor Beckett?"

"Perfect, now attempt to be quiet."

They traveled in near silence for a bit over an hour. Beckett dosed for part of that time, while Rodney concentrated on driving. Only a random comment about the starkness of the scenery, or Ronon questioning what kind product an eighteen-wheeler was carrying broke the respite. Ronon immersed himself in reading some of the tourist brochures that Carson had picked up at the hotel as they were leaving.

They were approaching a road sign. Ronon said, "Hey; that says Edwards A-F-B…that's an Air Force ba…" He stopped, interrupted by a huge roaring sound that passed over them. Rodney had cracked open the sunroof earlier, and the sound felt like it came from inside the Rover.

The sleeping Sheppard woke with a start, immediately alert, "Hey, what the hell?"

Rodney replied, "Should've known you'd react to a plane. We're close to Edwards, think that was one of your flyboy buddies going over."

Sheppard was peering out the window, "Yeah, sounded like an F-35 Lighting…well, actually, its one of the test planes for the Joint Strike fighters program."

Rodney asked cynically, "You can tell those planes apart without seeing them?"

"Yes, Rodney, I can. Remember, I was here about three weeks ago; met Cam Mitchell for a few days of flight training. Air Force decided I had time for a recert on aircraft I hadn't flown in a long time. I got to watch the AF-03 in action while I was here…cool bird."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sheppard caught movement, announcing, "Here she comes again." Within seconds, a sleek fighter jet zoomed across their path. They followed the plane until it was out of sight.

"Cool," Sheppard was smiling broadly, as he watched the plane's trajectory.

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Once a flyboy, always a flyboy."

Sheppard didn't reply, reaching behind him for the cooler. He pulled out a bottle of water, "Anyone want something to drink?"

Carson and Rodney said yes, Ronon held up his two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew, "I'm good."

Sheppard chuckled, "You're gonna turn into a bottle of that stuff, Ronon."

Shifting around in his seat, Sheppard winced visibly. Carson, who was watching him closely, took the water bottles out of his hands. "Here, I'll take those. You need to be more careful, laddie; that's a nasty injury you have."

"I'm OK, just a bit tender."

"Aye, a bit tender...nice lie," Carson replied. Wisely, he didn't pursue it.

Looking at his watch, Sheppard glanced at Carson, winking. "Hey, Rodney; we've been on the road for an hour and a half, and you're just now getting to Edwards. What are you driving, forty miles an hour?"

"Bite me, Sheppard! You're the one who keeps saying that we have all the time in the world to get to Vegas. Why are you suddenly in such an all-fired hurry?"

"I'm not; I'm just saying you drive like a snowbird in Florida."

Rodney grumbled something unintelligible in response, prompting Carson to laugh. Ronon looked confused. Sheppard explained, "A snowbird is someone who is retired and spends the winters in warm places. They drive at about thirty miles an hour and hold up traffic."

Ronon nodded, "Hey, we're really not in a hurry to get to Vegas?"

"Nope, not in a hurry, we've got all day. Considering Rodney's driving, it'll take all day."

"Can we go here?" He handed Sheppard a brochure.

Sheppard scanned the pamphlet; "Calico Ghost Town…," then looked at Ronon. "You want to stop here?"

"Yeah…my grandfather, my mother's father, was a miner. He mined for an ore called stega. It's a silver colored metal; might be the same stuff. I…I'd like to see this."

"OK, by me; fortunately, we haven't passed it yet. Rodney, when we get close to Yermo, look out for signs about the Calico Ghost Town, that's our next stop."

"A ghost town, really?" The cynical tone in Rodney's voice was unmistakable.

"Yes, Rodney, it will be fun." Sheppard's tone was very even.

Rodney was about to say something else when he looked into the rear view mirror. Catching Sheppard's expression, he got the message, shut up.

"Yeah, sounds like lots of fun." McKay said flatly.

"Can I see that, John?" Carson asked, taking the brochure. He began to read part of it, '…the historic silver mining town lives on as one of the few original Old West mining camps. One-third of Calico's original structures still stand; the remaining buildings have been carefully reconstructed to capture the Old West spirit.' This sound interesting, Ronon."

"Yeah, Sergeant Harper told me stories about the old west on Earth, the cowboys and Indians, the mines, the cattle herds. It's pretty cool."

"Cool? You think that's cool?"

Rodney's snarky comment elicited a sharp kick to the back of his seat by Sheppard. The colonel drawled, "Yeah, Rodney, cool, it's gonna be cool. Now keep your eyes open, according to the map, we should be there in about an hour and a half…, or three, the way you drive."

Carson's high-pitched chortle appeared to annoy Rodney. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he noted the defiant smirk on Sheppard's face. Rodney wisely chose to refrain from further comments. They traveled in silence for the next several miles.

Beckett had been staring out the window at the landscape they were passing, "This is a desolate country, colonel."

"Desolate is an excellent word to describe this place. All that exist out here are scrub brush, dirt, and rocky hills. It might appear lifeless, but the entire Mojave Desert is teeming with life. All sorts of wildlife and plants survive in the Mojave; the Joshua tree, numerous other varieties of yucca, along with cactus, wildflowers, coyotes, gophers, insects, hawks. The desert is teeming with action."

"How do you know so much about this area, John?"

"When I was at the Academy, we underwent flight training at Edwards. We conducted, or suffered, desert survival training here, as well; not the most fun I've ever had. It came in handy later though…." Sheppard's voice trailed off, his gaze drifted through the window at the stark scenery.

Beckett asked, "Iraq or Afghanistan?"

Sheppard responded slowly, "Both." Shifting slightly in the seat, he gingerly extended his long legs as far as he could within the confined space. A slight catch in his breath indicated pain as he moved.

Carson reached into the luggage compartment behind the passenger area, grabbing his medkit. As he opened the bag, he sensed Sheppard staring at him. He stared back, asking, "What?"

"If you got that out for me, put it back."

"You're due for a pain pill."

"Not taking it."

"John, you're in pain, don't try to tell me you aren't."

"Don't want it." Sheppard turned away.

"I don't care if you don't want to take a pain pill; you need it, and I insist."

"No, whatever you are giving me makes me drowsy. I don't want to sleep my entire vacation away."

Beckett sighed, while noticing that McKay and Ronon were decidedly quiet. "John, I can give you a reduced dose.'

"Give me a couple of Advil, that'll be fine." The expression on his face ended the matter. Beckett gave him a two Advil and put his medkit away.

After he took the pills, Sheppard changed the subject, "Ronon, tell us about your grandfather."

Ronon turned toward Sheppard, "He…his name was Quinon, was a good man. His family had always worked in the stega mines around Torva, a town about hundred miles from the capital. My grandmother taught school there and my mother and my uncle grew up there. My uncle continued to work in the mines as an adult, but my mother went to the university in Sateda City. She met my father there, and stayed."

Beckett asked, "What did your mother study at university?"

Ronon smiled slightly as he responded, "She was a teacher as well, an art teacher."

McKay asked quietly, "Is this the grandfather who contracted the...uh, 'Second Childhood' disease?"

"No; that was my father's father who suffered from 'the second childhood'."

Silence descended within the Rover. Each of them appeared to be lost in the memory of Rodney dealing with the parasite that caused the 'second childhood". Sheppard broke the silence, "What did your grandfather do in the stega mines?"

"He started out digging out the ore, then he was promoted to supervisor of a crew, then a shift period. He'd been promoted to mine safety supervisor when he died."

Beckett asked softly, "How did he die, Ronon."

"There was a fire in the mine; he rushed to help the trapped miners and was overcome by the smoke. Over a hundred men died in the mine that day."

"Tough business, mining; no matter how much safety equipment and caution is put into mining operations, it's still dangerous. Sorry, you lost him that way, Ronon." Sheppard said.

"Aye, but he died a hero, Ronon; trying to save his people." Beckett said.

"Yeah, he did." Ronon replied softly.

As they continued toward Vegas, Ronon told stories of his visits to the mine with his grandfather, while Beckett regaled them with stories about his relatives who worked in the Scottish coalmines. As they reminisced, Beckett noticed Sheppard had drifted off to sleep once more.

It wasn't long before Rodney announced that they were approaching Barstow. "OK, who's got directions to the 'ghost' town? We're about to get onto I-15."

Beckett perused the brochure, "The brochure says that we should take the Yermo exit on I-15 which leads to the ghost town."

Fifteen minutes later, they had turned onto a dusty two-lane road, heading for a range of low mountains. A short drive took them to a small gatehouse, where Rodney paid their admission, then proceeded to the parking lot.

Rodney turned to Beckett, "Well; we're here. Should someone wake Sheppard?"

Beckett nodded, and gently rocked Sheppard's shoulder. Sheppard jumped, "Wha…oh crap, I fell asleep again." He sat up slowly, grimacing, "Gotta stop doing that." He looked out the window, "We're at the ghost town."

"Aye, we are, laddie; are you up to taking a walk?" Beckett was watching him with concern.

"I'm fine; looking forward to it. Besides, I'm getting hungry; let's go."

They exited the car, heading for the town entrance. As Rodney and Carson walked in front of them, Sheppard caught Ronon's arm. "Hey, buddy; I don't want you to expect too much from this place. We have a tendency to make tourist spots out of places that should be, well…not so crappy. There are still original buildings here, but it's more like a tourist trap. You can take a train ride for a little sightseeing, and you can tour the mine."

Sheppard reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He took a couple of twenty-dollar bills out, "Here, take this so you can pay for whatever you decide to do."

Ronon reluctantly took the money, and smiled, "Thanks. It's OK; I thought it was going to be like other places we have been here…, but I still wanted to come. Thanks for making Rodney stop."

Sheppard smiled as he noticed that the other guys had stopped, waiting for them. "Come on, I wasn't kidding about being hungry. Besides, I think they serve beer here."

They climbed the hill to the main street, where they spent about a half-hour walking around to get an overview of the ghost town. The town was busy; a couple of tour buses sat in the lot and one brought a busload of kids. The four men wandered past the schoolhouse, the firehouse, and several shops. Ronon was particularly interested in a building that was made entirely of the bases of glass bottles.

Returning to the 'main' part of town, Ronon and Carson stopped along the street, waiting for the daily 'shoot-out' to begin. Sheppard spotted Rodney leaning against a pillar on the restaurant porch, a decidedly morose look on his face.

Sheppard mounted the weathered wooden steps, and leaned against the opposite side of the pillar. "Ronon and Carson appear to be having a good time." He waited for Rodney's response.

"Yeah…" Rodney didn't say anything else.

"So, I take it that you aren't?"

Frowning Rodney sputtered, "Oh, it's just peachy. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my day. Hanging around a dusty, hot, monochrome, gaudy tourist trap with a bunch of kids running wild is so my concept of a good time."

"Rodney, those kids are very well behaved. However, hot and dusty, I will give you. I could use something cold to drink about now. When the shoot-out is over, I say we go get something to eat." Rodney only nodded.

Sheppard and Rodney found seats on a bench next to the building. They waited for the street play to conclude. When the show ended, Ronon searched the crowd and spotting them, he and Carson headed their way.

"Did ya see that, laddie? That shoot-out skit was funny. This was a good idea; I'm having fun."

Sheppard grinned, "Well, come on Wyatt Earp; let's go get some food. I'm starved."

Ronon asked, "Who is Wyatt Earp?"

"I'll tell you at lunch." He rose, visibly grimacing as he did.

Carson's demeanor changed, "Oh, laddie, you're in need of some pain meds."

"Advil, doc; I told you, Advil only."

Carson reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a bottle. "Here."

"I'll take it later."

"Now, colonel," handing him the water bottle he was carrying. Sheppard frowned but accepted the water, and swallowed the pill.

Inside the Calico restaurant, a comely young woman dressed in period costume, flowing calico skirt, white shirred off- the-shoulder blouse, and corset greeted them. She seated them at a table on the porch and handed them menus. Beckett was grinning broadly.

"I like this place."

Sheppard chuckled, "You just like the corset," laughing as Beckett turned a tad pink.

After ordering sandwiches, drinks, and a couple of baskets of buffalo wings, Sheppard explained the legend of Wyatt Earp to Ronon. The Satedan was fascinated by Sheppard's description of Earp's infamous gun. The server returned with their drinks and wings, and Ronon quickly consumed one basket by himself. He had discovered a fondness for buffalo wings.

Sheppard had a large mug of beer in front of him, ignoring the frown Beckett sent his way. The Advil had kicked in somewhat, and he was feeling better. He wasn't about to admit to the good doctor how badly his side had been hurting, mostly from the bruised ribs. His ribs felt more broken than bruised.

When the food arrived, they were pleasantly surprised at the generous portions; they dug in, not talking for a few minutes. Carson finally broke the silence, "Ronon, how's the buffalo burger?" His mouth full, Ronon only bobbed his head up and down. He turned to Sheppard, "Colonel, that BBQ good?"

"Very good, fries are good, too. Your's?" Carson had ordered the same BBQ sandwich and fries that Sheppard had.

"Very good, John; I'm glad I took your suggestion. Rodney?"

Rodney had a cheeseburger, "It's OK," he replied flatly.

Sheppard glowered at him, "McKay, lighten up; what the hell's wrong with you?"

"He misses her." Beckett chirped.

"Misses who, Jennifer?" He looked over at Rodney, "Is that what is going on with you?"

A snarky glare targeted Beckett, then turned on Sheppard, "No, I don't miss Jennifer."

Sheppard waited, cocking his head, impatient for an explanation from Rodney, which didn't come. Beckett finally answered for him, whispering, "He misses Atlantis." Rodney's glare intensified.

Rubbing his eyes, Sheppard paused for a moment before he spoke, "Rodney, 'she' is fine, but if you want to call Radek and check on things you can do so. No one's stopping you; just be discreet."

Rodney immediately pulled the phone that the SGC had issued him from his shirt pocket. As he was searching for Radek's number, Sheppard reached over, taking the phone from him. "Could you please, at least, wait until we get back to the Rover?"

"Bite me, Sheppard."

"I'd rather bite into some of that homemade pie and another beer." Beckett frowned at Sheppard's mention of another beer. However, he remained silent.

Following pie and ice cream, Ronon and Beckett decided to take the short train ride and the silver mine tour. Sheppard had declined to join them, and remained at the table watching the crowds. Rodney stayed with him for a while before he wandered off. Close to an hour later, they all returned carrying gift shop bags.

"You guys, ready?" Sheppard started to rise as Beckett picked up an empty beer bottle that was sitting in front of Sheppard. As Beckett started to open his mouth, Sheppard put up his hand. "Don't start, I'm not taking pain pills and I'm not driving; besides, I only had three beers."

Ronon handed him a bag, preventing Beckett from replying. Sheppard asked, "What's this?" He peered inside, finding a hand-tooled leather cuff. It was dark brown, trimmed with thin braid of leather around the edges. "This is cool…thanks."

Ronon looked a bit sheepish, but replied, "I know you like those things. I just wanted to say thanks for stopping here. I think my grandfather would have liked it. I liked it."

Embarrassed, Sheppard asked what else the guys bought. Ronon showed him a braided leather belt and a leather tooling kit he had gotten. Carson showed them a brown leather belt with a big silver buckle he had bought, in addition to a western-styled shirt. Carson also bought a large container filled with several varieties of 'homemade' fudge.

As they left the restaurant, Sheppard realized that Rodney was concealing a bag behind him. "What did you buy, Rodney?"

Reluctantly, Rodney pulled a stuffed toy bear from the bag. Beckett scoffed, looking at Sheppard, "I told you he was lonely." Sheppard and Ronon both laughed.

"Bite me; I bought this for Madison." He turned and walked off, heading toward the parking lot. The others, still laughing, followed.

As they approached the Rover, Rodney was pulling out his phone to contact Atlantis. He was already talking by the time he clicked the remote, unlocking the car doors.

No one spoke as Rodney pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the interstate. The others listened to Rodney's side of the conversation with Radek, which consisted of pauses in between excited diatribe. What, what did they do that for? Didn't I tell you not to let that moron touch the database? I worked with him at Area 51; he's an idiot. Did you get it fixed? What the fuck did they want to do that for, damn it? I don't want those bastards anywhere near the stuff we are working on. You tell Lorne to post Marines around the science department and keep them away.

At the mention of Major Lorne's name, Sheppard plucked the phone from Rodney's hand. Ignoring the astrophysicist's whining, Sheppard spoke, "Radek, what's happening?" He listened intently, while slapping Rodney's hand away. "OK, get Lorne for me." The agitated scientist reached out for the phone and Sheppard slapped his hand away again. "Rodney, stop it," he was clearly annoyed.

"Lorne, tell me what's going on there." Sheppard listened for a couple of minutes. "So, exactly what we thought. OK, just stick to the plan and let me know if anything happens." He paused, listening to Lorne. He replied, "Having a great time; no problems, so far." He ignored Beckett's scoff at his comment. After Lorne's reply, Sheppard said, "Good. Don't worry if you don't hear from us for a few days. Tell Radek that I'm hiding Rodney's phone. Talk to you when we leave Vegas." Sheppard hung up, putting the phone in the pocket of his shirt.

"Sheppard, give me that back; I need to talk to Radek."

"No, you don't; everything is fine, Atlantis is in good shape. Woolsey, Radek, and Lorne are taking care of her; now relax."

"What did you mean by exactly what we thought and stick to the plan?" Rodney asked pointedly.

"Nothing, we all knew that the Area 51 guys were itching to get their hands on Atlantis. I'd already told Lorne to keep security tight, so that there was limited aggravation for everyone. Things are fine. Now, concentrate on driving; you just missed the entrance ramp to I-15."

Rodney glanced to his left as he passed the ramp. "Damn it; well, we need to fill up the tank anyway." He pulled into a convenience store, and hopped out of the car to pump gas.

"John, is everything really OK on Atlantis?" Beckett asked while Rodney was out of earshot.

"Yeah, the 51 guys are acting a bit pissy, but Radek said Dr. Lee actually chewed a couple of them out royally. Lorne said the scientists were bickering, but that's normal." Sheppard shifted in his seat, trying to adjust his seatbelt. The belt was putting pressure on his ribs and he couldn't suppress a moan.

"Those ribs are giving you fits aren't they, laddie?"

Sheppard sighed deeply, "You'd know I was lying if I said they were fine. Yeah, they feel more broken than bruised."

"Ronon, I think the colonel needs to be in the front seat, it reclines. These back ones don't."

"Yeah, they do. This is a new model Rover; the rear seats recline," Sheppard grunted.

"Good, then let's get this seat back. We need to take the pressure off your ribs."

"Wait, you'll have to move some of the stuff behind my seat."

Carson looked at Ronon for assistance. The Satedan jumped out of the Rover, heading for the rear hatch. While he was shifting the luggage and Beckett's fishing gear, Carson checked the bandage on Sheppard's stab wound.

"You are bruised very badly, and have quite a bit of swelling, laddie. Let me give you something for the pain."

"No, just Advil."

"You can't keep taking Advil; it's not strong enough. I'll give you two more. However, if you continue to be in this kind of pain, I am giving you something stronger." He looked up as Ronon indicated the seat was clear. "OK, let's get this seat back."

Once the seat was reclined, Sheppard was still having issues with the seatbelt. Carson reached into the gift shop bag, and pulled out the western shirt he had bought and folded it into a small pad. He slipped it under the belt taking the pressure off Sheppard's ribs, "Better?"

"Yeah."

Rodney got behind the wheel, looking back at Beckett. Concern evident on his face, he asked, "Is he OK?"

"Aye, he's gonna be fine; just hurting. He had a nasty injury."

"I'm right here, guys; you don't need to talk about me." Sheppard mumbled.

"Yeah, well, you should take care of yourself." Rodney retorted.

Sheppard grunted, closing his eyes. Rodney started the Rover; by the time he pulled onto the interstate, Sheppard was asleep. They were on the way to Vegas.

~~ooOoo~~

"You're going to have to wake him up. I have no idea what hotel he's booked for us. I could drive around until he wakes up on his own, but the way he's been sleeping, we could be driving around for a week."

"Rodney, you're gonna wake the dead if you don't lower your voice."

"Too, late." Sheppard mumbled.

"John, how are you feeling?" Beckett asked.

Sheppard opened one eye, "OK." He punched the button to move the seat into the upright position. Looking out the window, he shook his head, "Rodney, we're still ten miles from Vegas."

"I don't know what exit to take, 'cause I don't know where we're going."

"We are going to Caesar's Palace, turn the GPS on…"

Rodney switched on the GPS and within ten minutes, the monotone female voice on the GPS was telling him to take exit 38, turning onto East Flamingo.

"Rodney, Caesar's is on the left, turn at the light." Sheppard's directions were mimicked by the GPS seconds later.

Ronon, whose head had been bobbing from one window to another, uttered, "Are these palaces?"

Sheppard chuckled, "No, these are hotels, but they could be called palaces of greed, gambling, and sin. Wait until you see this place at night. The neon lights are spectacular."

Rodney made the u-turn into the hotel driveway and pulled under the large canopy in front of the lobby doors. Before he got out of the car, he turned to look at Sheppard, "See, I got us here and it didn't take a week."

"You still drive too slow." Sheppard mumbled and Rodney turned away, opening his door. He didn't see the smiles exchanged by Sheppard and Beckett.

Ronon quickly exited the car and started to get the luggage. Rodney had opened Sheppard's door, offering to help him. Sheppard frowned and waved him off, getting out of the Rover, slowly, but on his own. He headed to the rear of the Rover, where Ronon was reaching for the luggage. "Hey, those guys over there will get the bags; you don't need to deal with them." Ronon nodded, and Sheppard waved the bellmen over.

A few minutes later, everything except Beckett's fishing gear had been unloaded, and Rodney had turned the keys over to the valet attendant. They were about to go inside the hotel when they realized that Sheppard had disappeared.

"Where did he go, is he inside already?" Rodney asked.

They searched all directions for the errant colonel; Ronon spotted him first, "He's over there." Sheppard had walked across the driveway and was standing in the plaza where the three magnificent fountains were located. They joined him.

Beckett stood next to Sheppard, "Laddie…I think you need to go inside. I'd like for you to rest for a while."

"That's all I've been doing, Carson. I need to move around. Magnificent, aren't they?"

"The fountains are spectacular."

"They're fountains." Rodney said, matter-of-factly.

"Not just any fountains. Remember me telling you about my childhood hero, Evil Knievel?" Sheppard looked at Rodney, who nodded. "These are the fountains that he attempted to jump in 1967. Didn't make it, ended up in a coma for nineteen days, but it was quite a show."

"Is that why we're staying here, because of your childhood hero?

"Yep, no place else I would ever stay in Vegas."

Ronon was grinning, as he surveyed the fountains, "That I would have liked to have seen."

Sheppard chewed his lower lip, "That can be arranged. Let's get checked in and I'll show you a clip of his jump, there's a bunch on Youtube."

As Sheppard and Ronon headed for the lobby, Rodney fell in step next to Beckett, "Well, that explains it; Sheppard thinks he's fucking Evil Knievel. No wonder he's always getting hurt."

"Aye, well, don't you imagine yourself as Batman, Rodney?" Beckett was grinning impishly.

McKay glowered at Beckett. "Batman was a hero; Knievel was a daredevil." As they passed through the doors into the opulent lobby, he added, "Besides, Daffy Duck is more suited to Sheppard. His hair looks like Daffy's tail."

~~ooOoo~~

The four friends parted company, each going to their own rooms to shower and change after the dusty, hot day. Ronon joined Sheppard in his room approximately an hour later. He was anxious to watch the video of Evil Knievel that Sheppard had promised to show him. They were watching the jump for the fifth time when Rodney arrived, Carson on his heels.

As they entered, Ronon grinned at them like a schoolboy, gesturing to the laptop screen. "Have you seen this? This guy was awesome."

Beckett strolled to the window of the living room in Sheppard's suite. It was nearing sunset, and twilight was beginning to descend over Las Vegas. The glittering lights that would be blazing in the dark were just beginning to emerge.

"Living in Scotland, I always wanted to come to Vegas. Seeing the pictures of the pretty girls and the bright lights, it was intoxicating. The lads and I would chat over a pint about how much money we'd win, and how the girls would be hanging all over us. I never made here until today."

Sheppard was sprawled on the couch; his long legs stretched across the cushions. "Night's still young, Carson; you could win all that money tonight." He cocked his eyebrow as a grin spread across his face.

"Aye, laddie that I could, provided, I had any luck, but we know lady luck doesn't like me."

Rodney had picked up the hotel directory and was looking through the restaurants on-site, "Who's hungry? I'm famished; I only had that cheeseburger at lunch."

Ronon snorted, "Yeah, after you ate nearly the entire breakfast buffet this morning."

"Well, Conan, I had to make sure that you didn't eat it all."

"Yeah, well, you had at least three muffins along with half of the eggs and bacon. Then you ate half of Carson's candy before we got here."

"I did not; I only had two pieces." Rodney put down the directory and folded his arms across his chest.

Sheppard sat up slowly, "Quit pouting, Rodney. Let's go downstairs, find a restaurant, and have dinner." He grimaced slightly as he pushed off the couch, using his left arm. Carson was watching his every move.

"You know lads; we've had a busy day, maybe we should get room service and have dinner here."

Sheppard's glower quickly told Carson that his suggestion was a moot one. Grabbing a jacket lying on the dining table, Sheppard headed for the door. "Come on, guys, it's our first night in Vegas; let's have some fun."

They wandered through the opulent lobby, adorned with marble statues and employees dressed in Ancient Roman costume. They walked through the casino toward several of the restaurants. As they passed a large area of slot machines, Sheppard spotted a restaurant, the Hyakumi.

"Let's eat here, it's a sushi bar and tappen restaurant; I doubt that Ronon has ever had this experience."

A lovely oriental woman seated them at a tappen table for four, which was located next to a large artificial tree. Sheppard explained to Ronon that their food was going to be prepared on the grill embedded in the table. To start, he ordered an assortment of sushi rolls, and sake for everyone. However, when the sake arrived, he refused any. He smiled at the server, telling her he was driving.

Beckett, who was sitting next to Sheppard, had watched as the colonel gingerly eased into the padded chair when they arrived. He leaned over and quietly asked him, "OK; I know you're in pain. Holding out on the sake because you know you need stronger pain medicine?"

Sheppard's green eyes betrayed him as he glanced at Beckett. The pain he felt was unmistakable in his eyes, "Enjoy your dinner, Carson."

"You canna lie to me, I can see you're in pain."

"Just get through the meal, then we'll talk." Sheppard turned away, ending the conversation. As the chef appeared, pushing a cart laden with the food he was going to prepare, Beckett let the matter drop.

The next hour they laughed at the antics of the chef as he prepared their steak, chicken, and shrimp. Ronon discovered the joys of chopsticks, quickly becoming adept at using them. Grinning, Sheppard reminded him that the use of chopsticks was a vast improvement over his table manners when they first met. After a few more sakes and bowls of ice cream, they were stuffed and ready to leave.

Sheppard turned as he rose from his chair, but swayed, appearing dizzy, and lurched forward. He reached for the back of his chair, but Carson grabbed him. As he helped steady Sheppard to remain on his feet, he heard Rodney's voice, low and concerned.

"Carson, look at his side."

Sheppard's jacket had opened, revealing his side; there was blood on his shirt. "Oh, John, you've ripped your stitches. How the hell did that happen?"

Sheppard sighed, "I got dizzy in the shower, and fell. I thought the bleeding had stopped."

Looking at Ronon, Carson said, "Let's get him to his room."

As Ronon approached, Sheppard glared at him, "Don't, I can walk."

Rodney remained to pay the bill, while Ronon and Beckett escorted the colonel to his suite. Before he left to get his medical kit, Beckett told Ronon to make certain that Sheppard got undressed and into bed.

After Beckett left, Sheppard raised his hand, pointing his finger at Ronon, "I can get undressed myself." He headed into the bedroom and in a few minutes, Ronon heard a thud. Rushing into the bedroom, he found Sheppard struggling to get up from the floor. He walked over and put his hand on Sheppard's shoulder.

"Stop fighting this and let me help." Positioning himself behind Sheppard, he slid his arms under the colonel's arms. Gently, he pulled him off the floor.

"Don't tell Beckett."

Ronon shrugged and grunted. "Beckett said the clothes have to go." The colonel had removed his shirt, but had only managed to get his jeans partway down his legs before he lost his balance and fell.

"Sit," Ronon ordered, then chuckled as Sheppard sat. "You must be hurting if you're listening to me." Ronon pulled Sheppard's jeans the rest of the way off.

"In the infamous words of Dr. Rodney McKay, bite me." Sheppard exhaled deeply as he lay back on the bed.

"Why didn't you tell Beckett how badly you hurt?

"Didn't want him fussing over me; cold, can you reach that blanket?"

Ronon was covering him with the blanket as they heard a knock on the door. Ronon left and returned with Rodney. Another knock sent him back to the door leaving Rodney and Sheppard alone.

"You are an idiot. We should have stayed in Bakersfield another day for you to rest. You didn't need to be walking all over that stupid ghost town, look what it got you."

Sheppard angrily replied, "This has nothing to do with the ghost town, Rodney. Don't you dare say that in front of Ronon, do you hear me?" Rodney nodded as Ronon and Beckett entered the bedroom.

"Ronon tells me that ya fell again."

"Thanks," Sheppard flashed Ronon a very annoyed glare; Ronon just shrugged. "I tripped when I was taking my jeans off, that's all."

Beckett turned to Rodney. "Get me some clean towels, and wet one of them with warm water." When Rodney returned, Beckett gently cleaned the knife wound, laying a piece of gauze over the cut. He went to wash his hands and when he returned, he pulled a suture kit from his medical bag.

He watched as Beckett laid equipment out as if he was going to do surgery. "You always bring suture kits with you when you travel?"

Beckett smirked. "Only when I travel with you, colonel. Now lay still, I have to re-suture this area, but I'm gonna numb it first." Beckett worked quickly to repair and re-dress the wound as Rodney and Ronon stood by quietly.

"There, laddie, good as new; now, let's get a shot in you for the pain." He was reaching for syringe when Sheppard started to protest. It was Beckett's turn to glare. "You are going to take this pain medication, if I have to have Ronon hold you down. I've allowed you to be stubborn all day when I shouldn't have. Now be quiet, or I'll give it to ya in your bum." He injected Sheppard with the drug, then pulled the rest of the covers over the colonel.

"Now, colonel, you are going to sleep, and tomorrow you are going to rest. That's an order. You're the one who says we have all the time in the world. Well, we're taking it."

Beckett was reaching for the bedside light to turn it off, when Sheppard spoke, already sounding groggy, "Hey, guys; you go on out and have fun. I'll be fine here; don't let me ruin your night."

"No, laddie, not leaving you alone," Beckett said.

Ronon offered, "I'll stay with him, doc. I can watch movies and stuff; we'll be fine."

Looking over at Rodney, Beckett said, "I can call to check on him. I would like to at least to talk a walk around and see the place. You OK with that?" Rodney nodded.

Once Carson was satisfied that Sheppard was sleeping peacefully, he and Rodney left Ronon to keep watch over Sheppard. They were going out on the town.

~~ooOoo~~

"Carson!"

Rodney grabbed him, pulling him back onto the sidewalk seconds before a fast moving car sped past them. "You have to watch where you're going. You're gonna get hit by a car."

Carson was shaking from his narrow escape; he blew out a deep breath. "Thank you, Rodney. I was looking at the scenery. I dinna see that the traffic light had changed. It's hard to tell the difference from all the dazzling bright colors."

"Honestly, you've seen more dazzling things than most people will ever see. Yet, you are overwhelmed by the cheap lights of Vegas."

"It's amazing here, you can't tell me that you don't think Vegas is cool."

"Cool…really?"

After leaving Sheppard and Ronon, they strolled through Caesar's large opulent casino, then decided to take a walk along the Vegas Strip. They paused at Sheppard's infamous fountains to marvel at how impressive they were lit up. By the time they reached the street, Carson was totally mesmerized and nearly walked out into oncoming traffic.

The light changed, "Now we can go, Carson." They walked across the street, jostled by the large crowd.

Once they were on the other side of the street, they found themselves in front of Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville. "Let's go get a margarita, Rodney; that looks like a fun place."

"Since when did you become a bar-hopper, Beckett?"

"Oh, I forgot; you spent all your time in classrooms. Did ya never go to a bar while you were in college?"

"No."

Beckett frowned, "Come on, let's get a drink."

"I'm not getting drunk like I did the other night."

"Then don't drink so much." Beckett grabbed Rodney's arm and steered him into the busy restaurant. They found a couple of empty stools at the bar and ordered margaritas. They listened to the music, and watched the people, absorbing the ambiance. Forty minutes, and two drinks each, later Rodney leaned over to Beckett.

"I think we should do some gambling."

Rodney, you can't gamble. You are the easiest tell on the planet."

"I am not going to play poker; that's Sheppard's game. I'm going to play blackjack. I have a system. Pay the man and let's go." He hopped off the barstool and headed for the door.

"Why do I have to pay?" Beckett sighed, "Cheeky bastard." He quickly paid the bill. Then he rushed out the door to catch up with Rodney, who had crossed the side street and was walking down the Strip.

"Rodney, wait; where are you going?"

'There," he pointed to the bright glittering façade of Harrah's, "we're going there."

Striding like a man on a mission, McKay headed for Harrah's, Carson on his heels. They slipped past the crowded Carnival Court shops and through the west entrance into the casino.

Carson grabbed Rodney's arm, "What are ya doing?"

"I am going to play blackjack."

"Rodney, you shouldn't gamble; you always lose."

"I'm always playing with a bunch of card sharks; you know Sheppard and his grunts. That's a lifestyle with them. Here with the 'Average Joe' off the street; it's a piece of cake."

"You think you won't be playing with card sharks in Vegas, Rodney?"

"Stop worrying, Carson, piece of cake."

Rodney headed for the blackjack tables and found an open table. Sitting down, he laid two hundred dollars on the table layout. Looking at the dealer, he said, "Change please." The dealer gave him a pile of chips, and then pushed the money into a locked drop box.

Carson watched Rodney for a bit before he became restless, and began to amble around the casino. For the next two hours, he played a few games of black jack at another table, hit the roulette wheel, and then played the slots. He was getting a bit light headed from the free drinks, but he was having fun. It was nearing midnight when he decided to check on Sheppard. He found a relatively quiet corner to place the call, satisfied when Ronon told him that Sheppard was still sleeping soundly. He decided to wander back to where Rodney was still playing blackjack.

When he rounded the corner to the area where the blackjack tables were located, he saw a huge crowd surrounding Rodney's table. He inched his way through the people to see only Rodney and one other man playing blackjack. Rodney had a huge pile of chips in front of him. The majority of the chips were black, $100 chips.

The dealer had just busted, and Rodney was sitting at 20, the other player at 19. Rodney grinned with delight as the dealer pushed another large stack of chips toward him. Carson pushed his way gently through the crowd to stand at Rodney's elbow.

"Rodney, you've won all those chips?"

Rodney turned to look at him, his faced flushed, and his eyes slightly glazed. Carson was certain that Rodney had enjoyed a few free drinks as well. He giggled as he replied, "Told you, piece of cake."

The other player, a burly man wearing a too-tight black nylon shirt and heavy gold jewelry was glaring at Rodney. He leaned over and whispered gruffly, "You're cheating. I know you are. I just haven't figured out how, jerk, but I will."

Carson flushed, adrenaline coursing though his body. He didn't like the looks of the man staring at Rodney. "We should go. I'm getting tired, and you've won enough." Carson tugged at Rodney's sleeve, "Come on."

"I'm not ready to go."

"Yes, ya are. Grab your chips and let's go cash out."

Rodney frowned, but reluctantly started gathering his chips, when the other player grabbed his wrist. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You aren't going anywhere until I figure out how you cheated. I want my money." The man jumped up from the chair and grabbed Rodney by the shirt collar.

Carson reached for the man's arms, but casino security was quicker. They had the large man under restraint within seconds. A man in a suit with a Harrah's ID badge approached, "Benari; I warned you that if you made another scene in here, you were banned from the casino. Consider yourself banned." He gestured to the security guards, "Get him out of here."

Benari was livid, "He's cheating. I know he is." He shrieked as the guards dragged him away.

The Harrah's floor manager turned to Rodney. "Look; we were watching you, thought you were counting cards. However, you lost too randomly, so we figured you were just having a lucky night. Enjoy your winnings and visit Harrah's again soon." He turned to another security guard, "Escort the gentlemen to the cage and see that they get cashed out." They had been summarily dismissed.

As they were waiting to cash out, Carson whispered, "What were you thinking? You were counting cards, weren't you? You idiot, you could have been arrested."

Rodney smirked, answering quietly, "No, it's not illegal. All they can do is ban you from the casino. Besides, I was too smart for them. They were trying to trip me up, by distracting me and shuffling the decks more often. But….genius here," he pointed to himself, grinning, "I was too quick for them."

Carson shook his head as he stepped to the cashier's window and dumped his chips in the tray." The pretty girl behind the glass smiled as she passed a hundred and seventy-five dollars back.

"Really, Carson…that's all?" Rodney dumped his chips; it took a couple of minutes before she placed his cash in the tray. "See, this is how it's done; seven thousand, one-hundred and twenty dollars."

Carson was stunned, and speechless. Rodney grinned wickedly, and headed out the door, after stuffing his winnings in his pocket.

They walked out into the steamy night and headed for the sidewalk. There was a huge crowd of people milling about and Rodney motioned for Carson to follow him. "Carson, this way; it's less crowded."

They headed along a thick line of shrubbery toward the opening to the sidewalk. As they approached the opening, a deep angry voice came from behind them.

"You really didn't think you were gonna get away with my money did you? You were counting cards; I know you were. Now hand over the money."

Rodney felt a hard object pressing into his back, "No, I'm not giving you the money. You were counting cards just like I was, I was just better. You're an amateur." He got the reaction he wanted.

Benari raised the gun to hit Rodney over the head, and the scientist turned pushing his shoulder into the large man's chest. Benari fell over hitting his head on the pavement. Before the two men with him could react, Rodney grabbed Carson's arm and headed back into the casino.

Once inside, Rodney steered straight for the escalator that led to the showrooms, pushing Carson in front of him. As they stepped off the escalator, Rodney spotted a door at the end hallway to his left. He ran to the door, finding it unlocked, and motioned for Carson to follow him. Just as the door closed behind them, they heard Benari's voice.

"I saw that bastard head up the escalator. Keep looking; I want him."

Rodney looked down the dimly lit hall, "That way." The two men ran toward the end of the hall where heavy curtains covered the opening. Music from the showroom was drifting into the hallway. They halted abruptly as a door opened in front of them. Rodney grabbed the handle before the door closed, and dashed inside; neither man saw who had disappeared behind the curtain.

As Rodney peeked into the hallway to determine if they had lost Benari, he felt Carson's tug on his sleeve. Carson whispered, "Rodney, turn around."

Rodney pivoted around, shock registering on his face. The shock quickly replaced by his skin flushing bright crimson, and then a wide grin emerged. "Well, Carson, if we were going to hide, not a bad place to pick."

The two men were facing a large room full of showgirls in various states of undress, mostly undress. Carson was eye to chest with a very tall cinnamon skinned dancer, with absolutely nothing on.

"Oh…uh…sorry…ladies," he tried to draw his eyes to her face, but his eyes kept drifting down. "It's OK…I'm a doctor."

She ran her fingers along his jaw, "Well, if you're a doctor, then it's most certainly fine. I imagine the girls would love a physical from a little cutie like you."

Another showgirl, clad in costume, walked up to Rodney. She smiled and asked, "You a doctor, too, honey?" She was a few inches taller than Rodney, who managed to stammer a reply.

"Uh…uh…I…I am…a, not a medical doctor, an astrophysicist."

"Oh…cute and smart; don't get many like you very often. Now what are you boys doing in here?"

Carson replied, "Some guys were chasing us, they got mad because Rodney won some money at blackjack. They thought he cheated."

She asked, "Did you?"

"No, no…"

"So I take it, you need a way out of the hotel." Both men nodded. "Follow me, I show you how to get out the service bay."

They followed her into the hall as the cinnamon-skinned showgirl called after them. "We get off at three, come back and party with us, doctors." Beckett blushed again, giving her a little wave.

The showgirl led them through the curtains, and they found themselves backstage. The music was loud; someone was singing, 'Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend.' She led them behind the stage to the opposite side, pulling the curtains back. "Follow this corridor, at the end is an elevator which will take you to the ground level and the service bay. You can leave the hotel through the back gate.

"Thanks." Rodney said, and Carson nodded.

"No problem, glad to help a couple of sweet guys."

She turned to leave, both men watching her walk away, the feathers on the rear of her costume wiggling as she swayed. After taking a deep breath, Carson said, "Come on, Rodney. I want to go back to Caesars."

The elevator deposited them in the large service bay where supply trucks were unloaded. There was a security guard sitting in a small enclosure, but he didn't notice the pair as they slipped around the perimeter of the bay. One of the large garage doors was open and Carson and Rodney, stepped into the balmy night air. Carson turned to his right to head back to the Strip, but Rodney stopped him.

"No, let's go this way, we'll circle the block and go up the street that leads to Caesar's driveway. That way, that maniac won't be able to find us."

"Rodney, it's dark that way. We should head where the crowds are."

Rodney snarked, "Afraid of the dark?"

"Yes, I am, and so are you."

"Come on…" Rodney took off toward the left.

Within a couple of minutes, they were following a dark street, the track for the monorail above their head. They were only half way down the block when they heard a woman's cry.

"Please, let me go; let me go." She was pleading. The only answer was muffled laughter.

Carson and Rodney stopped, and in the pale light, they saw three men surrounding a woman backed against a wall. Carson whispered, "We canna let them harm her."

"What the hell do you want me to do?"

"Call the police, Rodney."

Just as Rodney pulled out his phone, one of the men turned around. "Well, well, lookie here; we got us some good Samaritans. You boys think you gonna stop us from having some fun with this little lady?" He and one of the other men started walking toward them; one had a large knife.

"We don't want any trouble, laddies; just let her go."

"Laddies? Listen to that cute little accent, maybe we should have some fun with him, too."

As the gang member moved closer to Carson, Rodney spotted a pipe leaning against the monorail pillar to his right. He backed up, edging closer to it, until he felt the cold steel touch his fingers.

"Where you going? You think, you're gonna get away?" The man with the knife got closer, brandishing the blade. Rodney grabbed the pipe and lashed out, striking the man's arm. The knife went flying through the air, clanking as it fell several feet away. Angry, the man swung out at Rodney, striking him in the jaw. As he fell, he saw that Carson was already on the ground and not moving. Before he lost consciousness, he heard sirens coming closer. Then his world turned black.

~~ooOoo~~

Ronon was dozing, stretched out on the long couch. He rarely slept soundly when one of his teammates was injured; preferring to remain ready should they need something. The soft tone of the telephone behind his head roused him. He reached behind him for the handset.

"Yeah," he answered, then listened for a few minutes. "Rodney, what the hell are you talking about, slow down." He listed for a bit more, "No, I will not wake him up."

Another minute went by, "I want to talk to Carson."

"Carson, do you really want me to wake him up?" He waited, then replied. "OK, but you better be ready to explain this to him." He paused, "We'll be there."

Ronon rose and walked into the bedroom. He turned on the light next to the bed, "Sheppard, wake up."

Sheppard didn't stir, so Ronon gently shook him. That didn't work either, so he tried a couple more times before Sheppard moaned.

"Leave me alone."

"Sheppard, you got to get up."

"Wha…what time is it?"

"It's 3:22."

He rolled over, "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"No, Sheppard, it's still dark. You've only been asleep for about six hours."

The colonel moaned and buried his face in the pillow, "Then go away."

Ronon jerked the covers back, "You gotta get up; McKay and Beckett called, and they need you."

Sheppard opened his eyes slightly, "N-need me? Why, what's wrong?"

"They're in jail."

Sheppard's eyes snapped open, looking at Ronon, hoping he was joking. However, the big man didn't look happy. Sheppard sighed, "Crap…hand me my pants."

~~ooOoo~~

They took a taxi to the main police station, located on Las Vegas Boulevard, near the airport. Sheppard walked up to the front desk and waited for the sour-looking sergeant to acknowledge him. He chuckled as he watched the sergeant's eyes tracked past him to Ronon, a suspicious look crossing the officer's face.

"I was told to ask for Detective Palmer; I'm Colonel John Sheppard."

The sergeant stared at him, "Colonel? You don't look like any colonel I ever had."

Sheppard smirked, "Air Force."

"Oh," the officer replied as if that explained everything, "wait here, I'll let him know."

Ronon motioned for Sheppard to sit. Ronon chose to stand, making eye contact with the sergeant, who eventually stopped staring. Five minutes passed before, Det. Palmer came into the waiting room.

"Colonel; I'm Detective Palmer."

Sheppard rose slowly, extending his hand to the older man. "Detective; I'm Colonel Sheppard, and this is Ronon Dex." The detective nodded to Ronon, as Sheppard flashed his credentials to Palmer.

"Sorry to bring you down here, but we wanted to check out their story. McKay and Beckett told the officers they worked for the Air Force. They didn't look like military, so I started to call over to Nellis and check out the story. They begged me not to, said you could vouch for them.

"I can, they are members of my team. We're currently on leave, just seeing the sights.

So, what's going on here, detective. Are my friends under arrest?"

"No, after they were treated…"

"Treated, are they injured?"

"No, not seriously, both got knocked out, and one needed stitches on his face. They'll be fine. As I was saying, the officers brought them back here from Desert Springs Hospital for questioning. Your 'friends' had a couple of little adventures tonight. We got a report of a problem at Harrah's. It seems they got tangled up with a local hood, named Frank Benari. Then, while they were escaping from him, they snuck out the back of the Harrah's. They were headed back to Caesar's when they stumbled onto some local gang bangers who were about to rape a woman. Apparently, they interrupted the attack, getting knocked out for their trouble. Fortunately, one of them called 911 and the dispatcher was able to pinpoint the location from the phone's GPS."

"I take it, you aren't holding them."

"No, not after we found out where the money came from."

"Money?"

"Yeah, looks like they did OK at the blackjack table. The officers found that one of them had several thousand dollars on him. They had heard the call regarding some men being chased through Harrah's. Since they didn't know what the call was about, they took them into custody until they could sort things out."

Sheppard tried not to laugh when he heard Ronon snicker. "Can we spring them from here now, detective."

"Yeah, I'll have their personal belonging brought to the front desk." He turned to an officer standing nearby, "Pete, take these gentlemen to holding room four; those two guys are free to go."

"Thanks," Sheppard said, shaking the detective hand once more. As the detective turned to leave, Sheppard asked, "Do they know they are free to go?" The detective answered no.

When they arrived at the holding room, Sheppard asked the officer to give them a few minutes, he wanted to talk to his friends. The officer told him to take his time.

Sheppard opened the door, to find Rodney and Carson both sitting at a table in the center of the room. They both stood up as the door opened.

"Well, you two look like you just got taken to the principal's office. You, OK?" Both men shook their heads yes. Sheppard motioned for them to sit.

"Quite the shiner you got there Rodney."

"Yeah, well…" Rodney voice trailed off.

"Carson, stitches?" There was a bandage on Carson's left cheek.

"Aye, John; good stitcher took care of me, probably won't scar."

Sheppard nodded, then slowly sat down. Beckett, despite his own injury, was watching the colonel's every move.

"Sorry that we had to wake you, lad. I…we…should've been more careful."

"What happened?"

For the next ten minutes, Rodney and Carson talked over each other to tell the story of their night. Finally, Sheppard stopped them.

"OK, enough; let's go." He stood up, using the table as leverage.

Rodney looked blankly at him, "Go? They aren't holding us?"

"No, they aren't; they were just waiting for me to confirm your story about being with the Air Force. You are free to go, and you should consider yourself lucky." He looked at Ronon, "I don't know about you, big guy, but I'm hungry. Let's find a diner and McKay, you're buying."

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in booth in the Coffee Shop, which was open twenty-four hours. Recommended by their cabbie, the diner was located in the Treasure Island hotel, a few blocks north of Caesars. Sheppard was satisfied; a large pot of coffee, already half empty, was sitting on their table.

"Seriously, Rodney; you counted cards?"

Rodney was slightly less morose than he had been at the police station, "Yes, Sheppard; I counted cards. I told 'Mr. Worrywart' over here that it was a piece of cake, and it was. Even the dealer tried to catch me, and he couldn't."

Sheppard shook his head in amazement, "You counted cards…you suck at cards. I'm not so surprised that you could count cards, just that you could hide your glee at winning long enough not to get caught. You aren't exactly known for your poker face. How did you learn the techniques of counting cards and how the casinos try to beat card counters?"

"Did you really think that I was working the entire time I've been glued to my pad? Nope, been learning how to win at Blackjack." Rodney preened, quite pleased with himself.

Carson was touching the bandage on his cheek, squinted as he touched a tender area. "Cheated…you cheated and then got us into trouble."

"Well, I'm not playing cards with you any more. Although, I could win all that money from you playing poker." Sheppard chuckled, eliciting a smirk from Rodney.

The server brought their food, setting a large plate of country-fried steak, eggs, and hash browns down in front of Sheppard and Ronon. Carson got eggs Benedict, and Rodney, a ham and cheese omelet. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Carson spoke.

"Aye, this brings to mind nights out at home with the lads; we'd drink, then get so hungry. Sittin' here reminds me of the Tam O'Shantner pub in Ayr on the West coast of Scotland. They had the best Haggis with neeps and tatties topped with whisky cream sauce."

"What's Haggis?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard laughed, "You don't want to know…but then you might like it."

Carson explained Haggis, laughing at the disgusted face Rodney made, and neeps and tatties, better know as potatoes and turnips, to Ronon.

Between mouthfuls of eggs, Ronon said, "Sheep's stomach…we had something like that on Sateda. I would like that."

"Well, you are welcome to it." Rodney shuddered.

"You haven't given us any details about your excursion into the showgirls' dressing room? So, tell us." Sheppard's grin was bordering on evil.

Embarrassed and turning slightly pink, Carson murmured, "Me mum would kill me if she knew I was in that dressing room."

"Carson, you're a grown man. I wouldn't be worrying about your mother." Rodney said.

"Come on, guys, details."

They sat there for another hour, consuming another large pot of coffee, discussing the particulars of Carson and Rodney's night; then took a cab back to Caesar's Palace.

As they were getting off the elevator on their floor, Rodney lamented, "Well, everyone has stitches now, but me."

Carson sneered, "Really, Rodney, not something to wish for."

Ronon slapped him on the back, "Don't worry, McKay; this is only our first night in Las Vegas. You've got plenty of time."

"Colonel, you OK; do you need help?" Carson asked.

"I'm fine, I'll take those pills you left, I promise. And the first person who wakes me in the morning, will need stitches."

The four friends parted, heading for their rooms. Each wondering what adventures the next day would bring.

End of day one in Vegas….

So… looks like it was another typical night for our boys! Hope you enjoyed.

I would like to thank JoeyLuv for reminding me about Evil Knivel's jump, or attempted jump, over the fountains at Caesar's Palace. No question from that point what hotel they would be staying at in Vegas. In addition, thanks to Sherry57, whose Scottish heritage gave me the name of the pub, Tam O'Shantner, in Ayr, Scotland where one can have a plate of "Haggis with neeps and tatties topped with whisky cream sauce." The neeps, tatties, and whiskey cream sauce sound great…not certain about the Haggis. But Ronon would like it!

I asked for suggestions for places to take the guys, and I appreciate all who commented about locations. GateGrr560, I love your location suggestion, and will be heading there after Vegas, (left a clue in this story). Unfortunately, the trip takes place around the US Labor Day holiday, so no snow skiing as one reader suggested…at least, this trip.

Would love to hear other locations or event suggestions…they are only in their first week of a thirty-day leave. Lots of mischief left!

Let me know if you enjoyed Day One of Road Trip: Vegas…Baby, and thanks so much for reading!