Title: Road Trip

Sub-title: Part Four Gone Fishin'…

Author: stella_pegasi

Rating: K +

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

Word Count: Part Four…Day One and Two 12,060

Spoilers: Post-Season Five

Warnings: Language

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: Our guys are now at Lake Mead, Sheppard is recuperating from his gunshot wound, Carson gets to fish, Ronon is soaking up Earth culture (and all the Mountain Dew he can drink), and Rodney's whining. A nice, quite time just goofing off, relaxing, and recuperating on the lake. They can't get into trouble here, can they?

(The lake lends itself to a more leisurely pace…so I hope you enjoy! This is only the first two days, there will be more Lake Mead adventures...)

ROAD TRIP

by stella_pegasi

Part Four Gone Fishin'…

Day One

"He's asleep already? We're not out of the Vegas city limits yet, is that all he's going to do, sleep?"

Carson leaned forward, "Rodney, please keep your voice low; John needs as much rest as possible." He watched as Rodney flexed his left arm gingerly, "How is your arm feeling today?"

Rodney peered in the rear-view mirror at Carson, and snapped, "How do you think it feels? I was shot, remember?"

Carson snapped back, "No need to be so cheeky."

Rodney's expression turned sheepish, "My arm's okay; doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did a couple of days ago. I only took three Advil this morning."

Ronon glanced over his shoulder at Carson, a mischievous grin on his face, then said to Rodney, "McKay, if you're hurting, I'll drive."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Carson, you should have never let him drive. He's going to pester me all the way to the lake."

Rodney's whining managed only to elicit a chuckle from Carson, who patted Ronon on the shoulder, winking at the big guy.

Before they departed Las Vegas, Carson decided they should shop for groceries at a large supermarket, the small grocery at the marina didn't have a great variety. Leaving Sheppard and Ronon in the car, he and Rodney shopped for supplies, enough supplies to prompt Sheppard to ask if they'd left anything in the store. Ronon only wanted to know if they had bought Mountain Dew; Carson assured him they did. After cramming the numerous bags of groceries into the Rover, they headed for Lake Mead.

They'd been on the road for approximately thirty-five minutes; no one had spoken, lost in their own thoughts. Rodney finally broke the silence.

"I thought some of the planets we visited were desolate, but I never realize we had the same boring terrain on Earth. This is past boring, nothing but mile after mile of yucky, gray sand and scrub, punctuated with rolling hills…it's boring."

"I like it," Ronon announced brightly.

Rodney snarked, "Yeah…well, you would, Conon."

"McKay, you should be more aware of the beauty of your world; you almost lost your planet." Ronon responded in a subdued voice.

Rodney was about to reply when he felt a kick to the back of his seat, "Yeah, Rodney…if it hadn't been for Zelenka, we might not be here to enjoy the scenery," Sheppard taunted. His voice was weak but there was no doubting his humorous tone.

"Zelenka…Zelenka wouldn't have pulled off the wormhole drive if I hadn't figured it out first," McKay sputtered.

"Quit being so defensive, McKay; you have to admit Zelenka did the exact calculations that allowed Atlantis to arrive in time. You have to give him credit for that."

"Well, I…uh…yeah, okay…I'll give Zelenka that."

Sheppard's chuckle turned to a groan as he sat up, having slouched down in the seat as he napped.. Quickly looking at Beckett, he said, "Don't…just don't; I'm sore that's all." He pushed himself the rest of the way up, "We close to the marina?"

Ronon answered, "Yeah…only a couple more miles; would've been there sooner if I was driving, McKay drives like an old man."

"I do not."

Sheppard and Beckett were laughing heartily. Beckett squeaked out, "Yeah…you do."

"Just because I drive the speed limit, doesn't mean…"

Sheppard interrupted, "At least, he can keep the car straight; he can't keep a jumper flying straight."

"Listen, flyboy, I'll have you…"

"Water, I see water," Ronon said, pointing out the windshield.

In the distance, a sliver of blue was visible between the pale gray-beige hills. They were going downhill as the road dropped to the level of the lake. Within a few minutes, they were past the hilly landscape and the Callville Bay Marina, with its wide, expansive boat ramp, came into view. Beyond the ramp floated several docks where motorboats and houseboats were berthed. The water was dark azure, a slight chop allowing the bright midday sunlight to cast a glittery glow on the surface.

"Rodney, the long-term parking lot is on the left, try to find a parking place as close to the docks as you can. I don't want John walking any further than necessary."

"Carson, I can walk," Sheppard replied but gave up when he saw Carson's glare.

Rodney turned left into the driveway entrance, and headed toward the marina, fortunately finding a parking place within a few slots of the docks. Carson tapped Ronon on the shoulder before he exited the car.

"Here," handing Ronon a set of keys, "these open the salon door, you remember which houseboat is ours? It's tied on the fourth dock, on the very end." Ronon nodded and Carson continued, "You take John on down there; Rodney and I will start unloading the groceries." He turned to Sheppard, who had unbuckled his seatbelt, his hand on the door handle. "Oh no, laddie, you wait for Ronon to help you. The last thing I need is for you to get dizzy and fall into the loch."

Sheppard sighed, removing his hand, dutifully waiting for Ronon. The Satedan opened Sheppard's door and held out his hand, which Sheppard brushed away, a very unhappy look on his face. "I am not an invalid, Ronon; I can get out of the car all by myself."

Slowly exiting the car, Sheppard was determined not to permit them to see that he was dizzy and in pain. His efforts were for naught; he stumbled as his foot hit the pavement, nearly falling before Ronon caught him.

"Sheppard, you either let me support you, or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you. Which is it?" Ronon had planted his body in front of the car door. Sheppard frowned but nodded his acceptance of help. Ronon steadied the colonel as he stepped out of the car, and they slowly headed for the houseboat, Ronon's hand glued to Sheppard's upper-right arm.

By the time, Rodney and Carson arrived with the first load of groceries, Ronon had settled Sheppard in a chair on the main deck. Carson quickly noticed how pale and shaky Sheppard appeared, tiny beads of sweat on his brow.

"Are you hungry, John?"

"No, not really…I ate almost all of my breakfast this morning."

"I think a good lunch and some pain meds, followed by a wee bit of rest are in your future, colonel." As Sheppard started to protest, Carson stopped him. "No arguments, you agreed to Dr. Frankel's conditions for your discharge, and one of his conditions was that you were to do what I tell you. You rest here; I'm gonna help unload the rest of the groceries from the Rover."

Ronon put his hand on Carson's shoulder, "McKay and I will get the rest of the food and the luggage, you stay here."

Rodney's mouth opened long enough to say, "You realize how many trips it's…." before Ronon dragged him off the houseboat.

Sheppard frowned, "Carson, go help them you don't need to babysit."

"Enough, come into the salon while I start putting the groceries away. We turned on the AC yesterday when we were here, it should be nice and cool." Carson helped Sheppard up and steered him toward one of the two couches in the main salon, where Sheppard stretched out. Carson opened a cabinet, pulling out a glass, filled it with ice from the dispenser in the refrigerator door and opened a bottle of water. From his medical bag, he pulled out a vial of pills and took a couple out.

"Here, take these," Beckett held out his palm, "and I don't want to hear an argument." Sheppard took the pills without saying a word.

Carson busied himself with stowing the groceries. About five minutes later, Rodney and Ronon came in loaded with more bags. Rodney was huffing; he dropped his bags at the doorway, hurrying to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "This is still warm."

Carson smiled sweetly, "Yes, it is Rodney; I just put them in there, get a glass from that cabinet and ice from the thingy in the door."

Ronon deposited his bags on the dining table and then retrieved the bags Rodney was carrying. "Come on, McKay, couple more loads and we'll be done." Rodney didn't budge, drinking his glass of water down in one continuous gulp. Ronon crossed his arms, "McKay."

Rodney sighed dejectedly, his shoulder drooping, "Oh…I like it better when there are bellhops." Ronon continued to frown at him. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

"Rodney, I'll have lunch ready when you finish, now go with Ronon."

As Rodney walked passed Sheppard lying on the couch, he turned to Carson, "Is he asleep…again."

"Shush, Rodney… you'll wake him. I gave John some pain meds, now go help Ronon and be quiet." Beckett waved his hand, dismissing Rodney, who shrugged and followed Ronon.

As the sound of Rodney and Ronon's footsteps faded, Carson said quietly, "Laddie, I only gave you a light pain med, didn't want you sleeping before you ate. So, you aren't asleep are you?"

"Nope…just preferred not to fuel McKay's whining."

Carson chuckled, "Smart man."

By the time Rodney and Ronon made two more trips to get the luggage, Carson had lunch on the table. Rodney dropped the suitcases he was carrying in the center of the salon and immediately started making a sandwich.

Carson snipped, "Rodney McKay, you put that bread down, and put away these suitcases. I want this all cleared before you eat."

Rodney frowned, "Who are you, my mother?" His snarky tone only managed to elicit a facetious grin from Carson.

Rodney grabbed his bags, heading to one of the bedrooms on the main deck level. Carson spotted him, "Where do you think you're going? You take one of the cabins below."

Rodney turned toward Carson, grouching, "Why?"

"Because Rodney, John will be taking one of the cabins on this deck and I will be taking the other, you and Ronon will bunk down below."

"How come you get one of the bedrooms on this deck?"

Carson put down the paper plates he was holding, and turned to Rodney, "John does not need to be going up and down stairs any more than he has to, and I need to be close to John. The bedrooms on the lower deck are the same size and just as nice, now take your things downstairs."

Rodney hesitated, obviously chagrined, "Okay… uh…I'll just take my stuff downstairs." Ronon grabbed his stuff and followed, slapping Carson on the back as he passed by.

As the doctor finished setting the table, Sheppard mumbled, "Carson, you are going to make someone a very good mother."

"Don't get cheeky, Colonel Sheppard; I know where the syringes are."

Sheppard scrunched up his face, "Ouch…you win, doc."

"You need to remember that, laddie." Carson walked over to him, "Feel like sitting at the table to eat."

Sheppard gripped the back of the couch and pulled himself up into a sitting position. The exertion caused him to be a little breathless, but he swung his legs around to the floor and stood up. Rather, he attempted to stand; he rose approximately six inches off the couch, then sat back down. He looked up at Carson, frustration on his face, "A little help please."

Carson feigned surprise, "Was John Sheppard asking for help?"

Sheppard sighed, dropping his head to his chest, "Who's being cheeky now?"

Carson slipped his arm under Sheppard's and pulled the colonel to his feet, supporting him until Sheppard was less wobbly. He asked, "Can you walk to the table on your own?"

A nod was the only answer he could manage. Shakily, he traversed the few steps to the table, and sat down. Breathing shallowly, he said, "Carson, you keep quiet about this, okay?"

He chuckled, "Our little secret John, I promise. I'm certain Ronon and Rodney won't even notice that you are extremely weak from being shot just a few days ago."

"I just don't want them hovering over me, like I'm some kind of invalid."

Carson scowled, as he sat down next to Sheppard, "I'm beginning to believe I should've left you in the hospital. It was too early; perhaps I should take you back."

Sheppard glared at him, then his expression softened as he realized that Carson was teasing him, "Sorry. I promise I'll do what you tell me, if you promise not to smother me."

"John, you lost a lot of blood when you were shot, and the bullet wreaked havoc on your insides. You hadn't had time to recover fully from the injury at the roadhouse. It's understandable that it's taking a bit of time to recover from this. You really shouldn't have left the hospital; I was surprised that Dr. Frankel discharged you."

Sheppard chewed on his lower lip before he replied, "I'm just tired of this shit. What are we, two weeks into our leave? I've spent five-six days in the hospital, kept all of you from having fun." He dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the table.

"Aye, lad, you have; but you saved a bunch of people at the roadhouse, and you rescued Rodney and those girls, and recovered all the money. You did well, except for once again, getting yourself hurt."

"Yeah, I gotta stop doing that."

Sounds of bickering were coming up the stairs, and Carson quickly asked, "You sure you feel like sitting up for a while?" Sheppard nodded, and Carson said, "Okay, but you let me know if you need to lie down."

Rodney and Ronon sat down at the table, Rodney looking peeved and Ronon smug. Sheppard had to ask, "Rodney, did you just suck on a lemon or something?"

"He's just mad because I took the cabin on the end of boat," Ronon said.

Rodney snarked, "Stern…it's the stern of the boat, not the 'end of the boat.'

Beckett was getting ice from the freezer, "Rodney you are being especially testy today; you need to eat something. Now, sit down and fix yourself a plate."

The four friends busied themselves the next several minutes making sandwiches, and eating. Ronon piled his plate, and began eating with gusto, causing Sheppard to chuckle. "A little fresh air does our boy good," but taking note of the 2-liter Mountain Dew next to Ronon, he added, "Carson, I don't think you bought enough Dew."

Rodney asked, "So, what now; what do we do on Lake Mead?"

"We have fun, Rodney," Carson answered.

"Well, that tells me a lot."

"Rodney, the idea of a vacation is to relax, do what you want to do. If you choose to sit inside in the AC and play with your computer, then do it. No one is going to stop you," Sheppard replied.

Ronon had finished two large roast beef sandwiches, double servings of potato salad, and nearly all of his Dew, "I wanna swim."

Sheppard shook his head, "I'd join you, big guy, but I have a feeling 'Momma Carson' isn't going to allow me to do that." His slight grimace did not go unnoticed.

"No swimming for you, laddie." Carson looked at Sheppard's plate, "You've just picked at your food. John, you need to eat, you've lost entirely too much weight." Turning toward Ronon, he asked, "Would you take John's bags into the room across from the bathroom and mine in the other?" Ronon nodded, and moved the bags into the cabins.

Carson started clearing the empty plates, leaving Rodney and John at the table. Rodney studied his friend for a moment, then queried, "So, you feeling any better?"

Between bites of watermelon, Sheppard answered, "Yeah, just tired, Rodney."

Rodney squirmed, clearly uncomfortable, "You should rest. I mean; you…well…you're injured because you had to save my ass again."

Sheppard deadpanned, "Feeling guilty, McKay?"

He hesitated before he answered, stumbling over his words, "I…I; yeah, I am."

Sheppard lowered his head, not wanting Rodney to see him smile at his friend's admission to feeling guilt. "You didn't cause this, Rodney. You were a victim, just like the two women who were taken with you. All victims of a bunch of bad guys. Shit happens; you've been in Pegasus long enough to know that, so stop blaming yourself. Besides, I didn't do a very good job protecting you, you were shot, too."

McKay frowned, "I get it; Colonel John Sheppard is allowed to feel guilty, but I can't. Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Carson returned to the table, picking up Sheppard's plate of nibbled-at food with a look of resignation. "You lads are going to be the death of me." Noting the dull pain in the colonel's green eyes, Carson sighed. "John, it's time for meds and a rest, so off to bed with you, lad." He turned to Ronon, who was sitting on a couch, "Would you take the stubborn colonel to his cabin and help him get undressed. I'll be there in a minute."

"I don't need help," Sheppard complained. When Carson only cocked his head in reply, Sheppard gave up, and allowed Ronon to help him stand. Sheppard walked the short distance to his cabin on his own.

When Carson arrived a few minutes later, med kit in hand, Ronon was leaning against the dresser while Sheppard fumbled with getting his shirt off. Ronon simply shrugged when Carson looked at him questioningly. Quietly, Carson motioned for the Satedan to leave.

"Come on, lad; you are hell-bent on doing this yourself, get on with it. I want to check your wounds; so, hurry up, get undressed." Beckett stepped back from the bed, leaning against the dresser and waited.

Sheppard gave the doctor a nasty smirk and proceeded with removing his shirt. As he bent over to take off his shoes, he couldn't stifle a groan. He felt Carson's warm hand on his shoulder.

"Enough, lad," Carson said quietly. He slipped Sheppard's shoes off, then told him to lie down. After examining the colonel's wounds, Carson gave him an injection.

Carson pulled the bedcovers over him, "You rest; I'll get you up for dinner, which you will eat."

As Sheppard drifted off, he heard a happy bellow, and a resounding splash of water, no doubt Ronon going for a swim. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

~~ooOoo~~

John Sheppard awoke slowly, aware that the once bright cabin was now dim, violet light spilling in the windows. Familiar sounds floating toward him; water lapping a hull, recognized voices, warm and comforting. For a moment, he imagined he was on Atlantis. Then the aroma of grilled meat filled his nostrils, and he felt hungry for the first time in days. He gingerly pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He had to admit that he felt better after taking a nap, maybe he should listen to Carson more often. He scoffed; it would probably be smarter just to keep from getting injured all the time. He whispered, "Yeah, like that'll happen, John." He pushed himself up, wobbling a bit, and reached for his shirt, which was lying on a chair. Padding across the room, he opened the door, stepping into the short narrow passageway.

Rodney was sitting at the dining table, intent on his laptop in front of him. Stretched out on one of the couches, Ronon had the TV remote in hand, the sound of gunfire coming from the flatscreen. Carson disappeared out the salon door to the small deck on the bow of the houseboat, where smoke was rising from a gas grill.

Sheppard crept across the hall into the bathroom, closing the door quietly. After washing his hands, he splashed cold water on his face. Carson was right; he had lost a lot of weight. His face was gaunt, slight stubble covering the paleness. That morning, a pretty nurse had decided he needed a shave before he was discharged, despite his protests. At least now, he didn't have to shave unless he chose to shave. However, he did have to eat and at that moment, eating sounded wonderful; time to put some weight back on. He managed to get as far as the dining room table before Ronon noticed him.

"Hey, Sheppard," Ronon grinned.

Rodney looked up from his laptop, an anxious look on his face, "You, okay?"

"I'm fine, Rodney; just really hungry, when's dinner?"

Carson entered the salon, the smell of steaks on the grill wafting into the salon with him, "A wee bit hungry are you? Well, that's a good sign, and to answer your question dinner will be ready shortly."

"Good, I'm almost hungry enough to eat some of that haggis with whiskey sauce you keep raving about."

Carson grinned, "Ah, have a hankering for some haggis myself, laddie. Now, sit down on the couch and relax, the steaks will be ready in a few minutes."

Sheppard did as the doctor told him. Ronon got up and went to the refrigerator, pulling out a couple of beers, and handed one to Sheppard.

"O'Doul's, really? Ronon's got a Bud; this isn't fair," Sheppard lamented, staring at the beer bottle.

Carson laughed, "No alcohol for you 'til you are off the pain meds, John. Thank Rodney for thinking about getting you some non-alcoholic beer to pacify you."

Sheppard seemed surprised, "Thanks, Rodney, nice of you to think of that. I believe Ben Franklin said it best, 'Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.'"

Rodney snarked, "Franklin never said that, he was talking about wine, not beer."

"I know, Rodney but it sounds better with beer," Sheppard took a swig of O'Doul's, making a face as he swallowed.

Ronon asked, "Franklin that guy who invented electricity? What did he say?"

"Not invented, just discovered, sort of. The actual quote is 'Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine, a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.'"

"You memorized that quote, Rodney? I'm shocked; it's not a very well-known quote of Franklin's." Sheppard remarked, his left eyebrow rising in surprise.

Everyone noticed Rodney was getting a tiny bit flushed, "I…I learned it in college, it just stuck with me."

Carson snickered as he removed five large baked potatoes from the oven, "I bet Rodney learned that quote because of a girl."

From the several shades of pink McKay turned, there was no doubt Carson was on to something. Sheppard chuckled, "I think you might be right, doc; I believe our Rodney has a secret he hasn't told us. Come on, McKay, spill the beans, tell us about her."

Rodney was a deep shade of beet red, "There's nothing to tell…"

Carson interrupted, "See, I told you there was a girl."

"She wasn't anything special; she was a history professor. I didn't want to take American history but I, well…I ended up liking the class. Her favorite historical character was Benjamin Franklin, so I just remembered that quote."

Ronon asked, a bit leeringly, "Trying to impress her, McKay?"

"Well, Rodney wouldn't be the first college student to try and 'impress' his professor," Sheppard answered.

"Like you never hit on one of your professors, flyboy."

"Well, McKay, most of my professors at the Academy looked like General Landry, so no…I didn't. Now, if one of them had looked like Colonel Carter; well, that would have been a different story."

At the mention of Sam Carter, Rodney got even redder, "She's certainly got better taste than you."

Sheppard laughed so hard he gasped from the pain shooting through his chest, "I suppose you think that if she had to choose, Sam would choose you over me; dream on, McKay."

Carson apparently decided that they had gone far enough teasing Rodney, "Come on, Rodney; I need help getting the steaks in. Ronon, make sure John gets to the table."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the table, enjoying steaks, baked potatoes, pasta salad, and garlic bread. Carson was watching Sheppard, who was eating heartily.

"John, your appetite seems to be back; that's good to see."

"Good food does that to me. Where did you learn to cook?"

"Me mum thought I should learn to cook just like my sisters; so she taught me right along with them. I actually enjoy it, nice to be able to cook for a change."

"I hear ya; I like to cook, too."

Rodney sputtered, "You…you cook?"

"Yeah, I can cook, what's so surprising about that?"

"Well, Mr. Macho Flyboy, you don't seem the type."

Sheppard stared into space for a moment, "Miss Gilly, the woman who raised my brother and me after our mother died, is from Jamaica. We met her, and her daughter Madeline when I was five; my dad was working with the Jamaican government on an energy project, and brought us with him. Miss Gilly was the housekeeper at the house my parents rented. She and my mom became best friends in the month we were there. Miss Gilly's husband was killed during a riot in Kingston a couple of years before; he was a government worker, who was trying to get home and got caught in the violence."

He paused, "My mother didn't want to leave Jamaica without them, and my father could never refuse her anything. He made all the arrangements, sponsored them, and they came home with us. After…well, afterward, she raised Dave and me. Dave had no desire to learn to cook; he was like my father, but Miss Gilly taught Maddie and me to cook. Some of the most fun I had during those years."

He realized that everyone was hanging on every word he was saying, which embarrassed him. Sheppard didn't talk much about his past, and didn't know why he had today. He decided it must be the pain meds making him mellow. Sheepishly, he changed the subject.

"So what did you guys do while I was 'resting'."

Ronon beamed, "I went swimming and then Carson rented a din…" He looked to Carson for the word.

"Dingy…well, it's actually a seventeen-foot Boston Whaler, not exactly a dingy; I just called it that." He waved his hand for Ronon to continue.

"We went out in the boat to get an idea of where we wanted to go tomorrow." Ronon grinned, "Becket let me drive the boat."

McKay snarked, "I told you Carson should have never let him drive."

"Oh, hush your yakking, Rodney; Ronon handled the boat like a pro, better than you could, I imagine."

"So where are we going?" Sheppard asked.

Carson got up and grabbed a nautical map from the cabinet next to the pilot's chair in the salon. As he handed the map to Sheppard, he said, "I think we should go check out the dam first. It's less than ten miles from here, then we can find a good spot to anchor and do some fishing."

As he perused the map, Sheppard asked, "You gotten any fishing in yet?"

"I dropped a pole in the water for a bit, once Ronon and I returned, didn't catch anything." He beamed, "It felt good, laddie."

Sheppard smiled, and took another bite of steak, then pushed his plate away. Carson noticed his action, "You were doing so well, John, but you only ate about half of your meal."

"I was hungry, but just got filled up fast…but the steaks were great." Carson took his plate away without comment.

"Rodney, get up and help clear the table," Carson instructed. To Sheppard's surprise, Rodney did so without complaint, even helping to wash the dishes. He was going to have to ask the good doctor how he managed that feat.

Ronon got up, "Come on Sheppard, l was watching a movie, want to finish it."

Sheppard gingerly walked to one of the couches, "What are you watching?"

Ronon picked up the DVD case, "It's called "Die Hard or Live Free."

"You haven't seen this yet? I thought we had it on Atlantis."

"No, I haven't seen it; just started watching about ten minutes before dinner."

"Cool," Sheppard grinned excitedly, "so, you haven't seen the scene with the fighter jet yet? Ronon shook his head, and Sheppard said, "You're gonna love it."

They settled in to watch, and shortly Carson and Rodney joined them. Toward the end of the movie when the scene with the jet came on, Sheppard and Ronon, along with Beckett, became quite animated, excitedly commenting on the action as it happened. Sheppard paused the movie; he wanted to watch the scene again.

Ronon said, "That was cool."

Rodney scoffed, "That's all done by special effects. No pilot could fly like that; the planes weren't designed to maneuver that way."

Ronon took offense, "Hey Sheppard could fly like that."

Rodney replied, "Yeah, right; I'll give you that he can fly anything, but he can't do that," pointing to the screen.

"He can," Ronon pronounced, and threw a pillow at Rodney, which hit him in the head messing up his hair.

"What the….Why did you do that?" Rodney whined as he ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it down. On impulse, he threw the pillow back at Ronon, who threw it once again toward Rodney, except Rodney ducked and the pillow hit Sheppard in the chest. The colonel winced from the impact.

Beckett jumped up from his chair. "That's enough, you two are acting like children. Now sit down and behave or there won't be any ice cream for either one of you." He was standing in front of the television, hands-on-hips when he noticed that Sheppard was laughing.

"What is so hilarious to you, Colonel Sheppard?"

"You are; I think we will have to call you, "Momma Carson" from now on."

"Well, laddie, they could have hurt you," Carson said a serious look on his face, but as he stood there, he began to smile. "Yeah, I guess I would make someone a good mother. I have certainly had enough practice having to deal with the three of you behaving like children."

"Did you say ice cream?" Rodney asked, hopefully.

Carson sighed, "Yes, ice cream, and you can help me; don't start the movie yet, John."

When the movie ended, Carson realized that Sheppard was asleep again. He walked over and gently shook Sheppard awake.

"Come on, John; wake up; time for you to go to bed."

Mumbling, Sheppard replied, "Sleep here."

"No, no; you need to be in a real bed, let's go," Carson motioned for Ronon to help.

Reluctantly, Sheppard retreated to his cabin and allowed Ronon to help him into bed. He also neglected to complain when Carson gave him another shot for pain. He wouldn't admit he was hurting, but he was, probably from sitting up as much as he had during the evening.

Carson pulled his door shut as he left the room, but Sheppard could still hear Rodney whining, "Ronon, are you planning on eating all the ice cream?" As drifted to sleep, Sheppard thought 'Momma Carson" had his hands full.

~~ooOoo~~

Day Two

Sunlight was streaming into the cabin as Sheppard awoke. The gentle rocking motion he felt made him think he was on Atlantis for a moment. As he gradually opened his eyes, he realized he wasn't at home. The walls surrounding him were white; pale wood cabinets were scattered about the room, and a brightly patterned bedspread covered him. He sighed, "Okay John, definitely not on Atlantis." As he breathed deeply, he caught the aroma of coffee and bacon, and Rodney's voice. He couldn't make out exactly what McKay was complaining about, but he caught two words, Ronon, and bacon. "That can't be good," he whispered. He decided it was time to get up and rescue Carson.

Sheppard threw back the covers, and swung his legs onto the floor. The first thing he realized was that he wasn't quite as tired as he had been yesterday, and he didn't hurt quite as much. As he pushed off the bed to stand, he winced; the pain radiating across his chest was there, but without the sharp, take his breath away intensity as before. He crossed the short distance to the dresser, where his suitcase was sitting and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of track pants.

A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he leaned on the dresser for a moment before he was able to continue. Once his head cleared, he sat on the bed, and pulled the t-shirt over his head.

"Oh yeah John, that hurt," he mumbled as he tried to straighten out his right arm realizing he should have put on a buttoned shirt. He decided if he ever took the t-shirt off, he wouldn't make that mistake again. Putting on the track pants proved to be just as tricky. After a couple of attempts, first standing, then sitting in an attempt to put them on, he laid down on the bed, bending his knees and managed to get the pants on. Standing up, he pulled them the rest of the way, vowing not to change clothes ever again.

He snuck across the short corridor to the bathroom, fearing that if Carson saw him, the overprotective doctor would send Ronon to help him. He was doing just fine all by himself…until he fell. His yelp and the ensuing thud brought his friends running to the bathroom door.

Carson rushed in, dropping to his knees, "Laddie, you stubborn…did you hit your head?" He started to run his fingers across Sheppard's scalp.

"Stop, Carson," he swatted the doctor's hand away. "I didn't hit my head. I didn't see that damn trash can, and I tripped over it on the way out; caught myself with my left arm, I'm ok." Carson motioned for Ronon, who stepped into the bathroom and helped Sheppard to his feet.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Carson asked which elicited a scowl from Sheppard. Carson tried not to laugh, somewhat unsuccessfully, "I'm sorry John; do you hurt anywhere that you didn't hurt when you came in here?

"No; now can I get some coffee?"

They headed for the kitchen and after Sheppard sat down, Rodney placed a mug of coffee in front of him. Sheppard remarked, somewhat startled, "I must be sick if you're waiting on me." Rodney's expression appeared bewildered, and he quickly added, "Thanks, appreciate it."

Carson asked, "Scrambled eggs okay with you, John?"

"Yeah, and throw in some cheese if you don't mind."

"Ronon, stop eating all the bacon," Rodney whined, as Ronon grabbed a couple of slices.

Carson was stirring the eggs, "Rodney, hush. I already put more bacon in the microwave, there's going to be plenty of bacon."

Sheppard sat quietly sipping his coffee, observing his friends. He preferred the atmosphere on the houseboat, so much cozier than the glitzy Caesar's Palace, fresh air, sunshine, no street noise. However, Carson was doing the brunt of the work. He needed to get healthier soon, so he could help cook. He was surprised that he felt an itch to cook; he hadn't cooked in a very long time. The last time he cooked was when he took a few days leave before the expedition first left for Atlantis. He had rented a small cabin in the mountains to get away from everyone and think about what lay ahead for him. He smiled to himself as he thought back to the exact moment when he committed to joining the Atlantis expedition. He had gone for a long hike and decided to rest on a hill next to a railroad bridge. On impulse, he pulled a coin from his pocket, flipping it to decide if he would go on the mission. He flipped the coin but never looked at it; he had known for a long time he was going to go. Sheppard chuckled silently, if he hadn't, O'Neill would have hunted him down and dragged him to the SGC. He wondered if he had imagined any of the events that had happened to them in the last six years, if he would have made the same decision. As he watched his friends busy themselves getting ready for breakfast, the answer was obvious. He wouldn't trade any of the horrible situations they had endured for the friendship of any one of them.

"John…John…is that enough eggs?" He roused from his thoughts to see Carson standing next to him with a huge skillet of scrambled eggs. He answered yes, and Carson then served everyone else. Sheppard was hungry, suspecting the fresh air had something to do with his appetite.

Before he sat down, Carson retrieved some pills from his bag, "Here; no shot this morning. I want to see if we can get by with the pills."

Sheppard took the pills, "Okay by me; I sure don't want to sleep all day. So, when are we heading to the dam?"

"Once we're done with breakfast and get everything put away, we'll head out. I checked the weather and it's gonna be nice all day, but the forecast calls for thunderstorms during the evening. I want to be certain that we get to good anchor before the weather gets nasty."

Rodney, chomping on a piece of thick toast mumbled, "Why don't we stay here if the weather's going to get bad?"

"After all we've been through McKay, you're afraid of a little thunderstorm?" Sheppard taunted.

"We're on a flimsy boat, it's not like we're on Atlantis."

Carson scowled, "This is not a 'flimsy' boat, Rodney. She'll do fine in a storm."

Sheppard grinned, "Something tells me, someone gets seasick. Is that what's worrying you, Rodney?

Rodney opened his mouth to deny Sheppard's accusation, then slouched in his seat, "My grandfather lived by a huge recreational lake, and he loved to take Jeannie and me fishing; I hated it. Once, we were in this little tiny boat, and the weather was already nasty, the surface was really choppy. Every time, a bigger boat sped by rocking us Jeannie squealed with delight; she loved it. I just became more and more nauseated."

Carson snickered, "Don't worry, Rodney. I got a supply of Dramamine from the pharmacy when I stocked up on medical supplies. I was worried someone," Carson winked in Sheppard and Ronon's direction, his head tilting toward Rodney, "might get seasick since this is a pretty big body of water. Although, it certainly takes a wimpy stomach to get sick on a loch," Carson teased.

They all waited for a snarky comeback from Rodney, which didn't materialize. He only replied, "Yeah, well…that's me then."

Ronon, between forkfuls of eggs, said, "I get seasick."

Rodney's head snapped around toward the big Satedan, "You… you get seasick?"

Ronon downed a huge gulp of orange juice, then answered, "Sort of the same story, McKay. My mom's brother operated a fishing boat on the coast about a hundred demets from Sateda City. When I was about ten, my parents thought a summer with my uncle on his fishing boat would be good for me. I was sick for the first three days, before my uncle felt pity on me and gave me some medicine."

Carson stuttered, "He…he waited for three days to give you something to stop the nausea?"

Ronon shrugged, "He thought it would make a man of me."

Carson got up to get more coffee, muttering, "Barbaric," under his breath.

"So, you grow out of it, or do you still get motion sickness?" Sheppard asked.

"When I was running, I was trying to get away from a Wraith hunting party. I found a boat tied up on a river, decided to go down-river, then double back to the gate. It was winter and extremely cold; lots of rapids on the river, I started feeling sick. Haven't been in that situation since."

Sheppard thought back to some of the harrowing rides they'd taken in the jumper. "Well, I guess we should thank the Ancients for inventing very effective inertia dampeners." Rodney simply nodded in agreement.

Carson brought the coffee carafe over and poured more coffee for everyone. Once seated, he raised his coffee cup in a toast, "Might not be alcohol, but it'll do, laddies. "Here's to a fun, uneventful and safe stay on the loch." He nodded to Sheppard on the word safe. They raised their mugs in response.

Rodney said, "Loch? Really Carson, you're in the United States, call it a lake."

"Cheeky, I'll call it a lake when you say 'Zee' PM, not 'Zed' PM."

Rodney leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, "It is 'Zed' PM."

Before the two had a chance to continue their bickering, Sheppard interrupted, "Carson, this thing gassed up and ready to go?"

"Aye that she is, and as soon as we get this mess cleaned up, we'll get underway."

He started to rise when Ronon pushed him back into his seat. "You, finish your coffee; McKay and I will clean this up."

"Lad, I…," Carson got no further as Sheppard kicked him under the table. He sent a quick glance Sheppard's way, then continued, "Thanks, Ronon."

McKay appeared anything but happy, but helped clear the table. Sheppard and Carson watched, somewhat amused as Ronon began washing the dishes, telling Rodney to dry.

Quietly, Carson asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Not so bad, certainly not like yesterday."

"I still think that we may have gotten you out of the hospital a day or two too soon. You want to lie down as we travel to the dam?"

Sheppard frowned, "No… I do not want to lie down. You going to pilot her from here or from the flying bridge?"

"I'd rather take her out from the top deck, better vantage point of what's around us. Think you can make the climb up top?"

"Yeah, mostly because I figure you'll make Ronon carry me." Sheppard was grinning somewhat sarcastically.

"Cheeky but correct, Ronon will help you; that ladder is steep."

Carson jumped up and grabbed the nautical charts from the cupboard under the helm. As Ronon and Rodney finished cleaning up, the colonel and the doctor finished their coffee while they plotted a course to the dam.

~~ooOoo~~

An hour later, two employees of the houseboat rental company assisted Ronon in untying the houseboat from moorings and cast off. Carson, at the fly bridge helm, nudged the engines sending the seventy-foot houseboat into the protected marina basin, then through the man-made tire break and into open water.

Sheppard was sitting on the padded bench that surrounded the bow of the houseboat, soaking up the sun. After nearly a week in the hospital, feeling the sun on his face felt good, the first time he'd been truly warm, since being shot. He glanced over at Carson, who was sitting at the helm, with what appeared to be a permanent grin on his face. It had been a long time Sheppard thought, since Carson looked that happy.

Ronon climbed to the upper deck with a couple of bags of chips, cookies, and a bag of fruit, dumping everything on the bar behind the helm. An apple fell out of the bag and rolled next to McKay's computer, startling McKay, who nearly jumped from his seat.

"Hey, watch it; I'm working here."

Sheppard said, "What do you mean you're working? If you are working, put that pad away."

"Bite me, Sheppard."

"I'd rather bite that apple, Chewie, toss it over to me." Ronon picked the apple up, handed it to Sheppard, and joined him on the bench.

"McKay, what are you doing?"

McKay looked up, glowering at Sheppard, "Nothing…I am not doing anything." He turned the pad off and grabbed something to drink.

Carson looked around, "Bring a chair up here, and enjoy the view, Rodney."

Ronon asked, "Beckett, how fast does the boat go?"

"About eight to ten miles per hour, but I'm not pushing her; it's only about nine miles to the dam from the marina, so we have plenty of time to get there and then get to the cove we decided to anchor in last night."

Ronon had been gazing around at the stark scenery, "Why's the rock on the shore two colors?"

Rodney answered, "When the lake levels are low, the submerged rock dries out the minerals deposited on the surface causing the rock to appear white."

Carson chuckled, "A bathtub ring."

"Well, that's stupid," Rodney quipped.

"No, no, that's what they call it according to the guys on the dock, a bathtub ring."

Sheppard spotted Rodney's cell phone in the pocket his shirt. He was certain the scientist had been calling Atlantis regularly. "Rodney, you haven't told me what's happening on Atlantis, last time you said you talked to Radek was four days ago. I know you talked to him since then, so what's the scoop?"

"Not much to tell, the goons from Area 51 still have their grubby hands all over everything. Radek caught a couple of them cataloguing equipment to take back to their little hovels with them. He went ballistic on Dr. Gervers, Pervers, whatever his name is; the Marines had to separate them. Radek told me that General Landry issued orders that no equipment, artifacts, or anything the Area 51 goons didn't bring with them, would leave Atlantis."

"How much longer are they going to be there?"

"Too damn long, in my opinion, I know you keep telling me that Radek and Lee will keep them from messing stuff up, but I don't believe it. Those Area 51 guys are Neanderthals."

"Rodney, be nice," Carson admonished, then continued, "How's Sergeant Johnston doing?" As sooner as the words came out of his mouth, he slapped his forehead, "Bugger, I can't believe I did that."

Sheppard was on his feet, grabbing the railing to keep himself steady, "What happened to Johnston?"

"Now, laddie, don't get excited; he's gonna be fine. There was a little explosion in the biochemical lab, caused by one of the visiting scientists…."

"Neanderthals…," Rodney sniped.

Carson continued, "The sergeant was on guard duty, and he rushed in to rescue the people in the lab; a storage locker fell on him. He has a concussion and a broken leg, but he's gonna be fine. Everyone in the lab is okay."

Sheppard's tone was even, but the others heard the undercurrent of anger in his voice, "When were you going to tell me?"

"John, the accident happened two days after your surgery, and Johnston was in no danger. Jennifer's back, and I spoke to her; she assures me that the sergeant will be fine. To be honest laddie, I hadn't planned on telling you at all."

Sheppard took a deep breath, "I need to know when my people are hurt; don't keep anything like that from me again. Is he still on Atlantis?" Carson nodded, and Sheppard walked over to Rodney and put out his hand, "McKay, give me your phone."

McKay looked at Carson, who nodded, and the scientist passed over his phone to the irritated colonel. They waited as Sheppard connected to Atlantis, speaking first to Woolsey, then to Jennifer, and finally, for a few minutes to Sergeant Johnston.

Sheppard had sat down next to McKay while he was on the phone. When Sheppard ended the call and handed him back the phone, McKay said quietly, "You know, you were hurt worse than he was; I doubt he was expecting you to call."

"Johnston is under my command, and I am responsible for him. Besides, I like the big guy."

Rodney laughed, "Yeah, you and Ronon are about the only ones who aren't scared of him."

Sheppard chuckled, "Let's see, six-foot-five two hundred and seventy-five pounds of Marine SO…yeah…I'm scared of him."

They cruised in silence the rest of the trip to the dam, enjoying the scenery. Ronon was having fun waving at the passing boats after Carson explained the tradition to him. Sheppard had returned to sit on the padded bench on the bow, and Rodney had turned his pad back on, completely immersed in whatever he was doing.

About ninety minutes after they left the marina, the dam came into view. They couldn't approach very closely, but even from the lakeside view, the dam was imposing. The four huge water intake towers rose from the water like sentinels guarding a fortress.

Ronon was mesmerized, "Sheppard that thing is huge."

"Yeah, Chewie; wait until you see it from the other side. It's past huge, built over 70 years ago; an amazing undertaking."

They remained for while longer absorbing the breathtaking sight. Carson finally turned the houseboat around and headed for Hideaway Cove to anchor. The night before, he and Sheppard had decided that the cove offered them good harbor, protection from the storms, and was near Callville Bay. They could use the Boston Whaler Carson rented to go back and forth to the marina for supplies.

On the way, Carson explained to Ronon and Rodney what they needed to do to anchor the houseboat when they arrived. An hour later, as he piloted the houseboat into the cove, Sheppard and Ronon took positions on each side of the bow, while Carson nudged the large vessel against the shore. Leaving Sheppard at the helm, the others gathered the anchors and equipment and spent the next thirty minutes pounded anchors into the ground.

When the trio climbed back aboard, Sheppard broke out in laughter at Rodney, who was red-faced, sweaty, covered in sand. "Rodney, you okay?"

"Who the hell said this was a vacation? That's freaking hard work," he looked at his palm where a raw, reddened rope burn was evident.

Carson took Rodney's hand, making a clucking sound as he examined the injury, "Ah, laddie, how did this happen?"

"My hand was sweaty, and I slipped, tried to grab the rope, then fell." Carson led him to the sink and rinsed the blood off his hand, blotting the wound dry.

He motioned to Rodney toward the dining table, "Sit…I'm going to get my kit." As he walked out, he realized Sheppard was in the salon. "John, didn't I tell you to stay up top until Ronon was back on board to help you down?"

"Carson, stop; I'm fine. I took it slow, didn't have any trouble."

Carson stared at the colonel, then headed to his cabin muttering to himself.

After tending to Rodney's wounds, and having lunch, Carson declared it was time for fishing. Dragging out his tackle box and fishing rod, he asked, "Okay, who wants to go fishing?"

Sheppard piped up, "I'll go."

"No," Carson answered, "you are not climbing in and out of the boat. You are going to rest this afternoon, and before you asked, no…you cannot swim. Your wounds aren't healed enough yet."

Ronon, a mouth full of potato chips, mumbled, "I wanna swim."

"So it's settled, Ronon swims and stays with Sheppard, so Rodney, you are coming fishing with me."

"Ah…why me…I'll get sunburned."

"You can sit under the bimini top, out of the sun, but you are going fishing. Now, change into something cooler and let's go."

When Rodney started to complain again, he caught the look that Sheppard was giving him. He knew what that look meant, and he knew he was going fishing.

Sheppard decided he wanted to relax on the top deck. He managed to change into swim trunks, grabbed some graphic novels and with Ronon behind him, he climbed to the upper deck. Ronon then helped Carson cast off the fishing boat from its mooring alongside the houseboat. From the upper deck, Sheppard watched as Carson headed a bit further up into the cove before he dropped anchor, McKay slathering on sunscreen the entire way. Ronon busied himself sliding off the rear swim slide, enjoying the water. As the afternoon wore on, Sheppard fell asleep stretched out in a deck chair.

After he set the anchor, Carson had given Rodney a rod, baited his hook, and then gone to the front of the boat to drop his own line into the crystal-clear water. Only a few minutes passed before Rodney settled in the pilot's seat, under the canopy, the rod held loosely in his hands.

"Beckett, how long are we going to stay out here? It's hot, and I'm bored."

Beckett looked over his shoulder, "We have only been out here two hours; I've caught some trout for dinner. It's a beautiful day, clouds just beginning to roll in…just look at that sky."

"It's hot."

"It's summer, get over it. Now be quiet, you will scare off the fish. I want to catch a couple more so that we have enough fish for dinner…need lots of food to keep Ronon happy."

"He can have my dinner if that gets us back to the houseboat quicker."

Carson was about to answer when he got another bite and in a few minutes, he reeled in another good-sized trout. He baited his hook again, and dropped the line overboard.

Rodney was still holding his fishing rod lightly; when there was a slight tug on his line, he didn't react. A harder tug nearly pulled the rod from his hand, and he yelped, "Carson…I got something."

Carson had also just gotten a hit on his line, "Rodney, I'll be right there, let me get this fish in." Carson quickly brought his fish on board, and rushed to help Rodney, who was now struggling, leaning over the starboard gunwale between the metal railings.

He reached for Rodney's rod, intending on taking it from him but Rodney was leaning too far over the side. As Carson touched him, reaching around for the rod, the action startled Rodney, who jumped and started to fall overboard. He grabbed onto Carson's fishing vest, but his momentum took him over the side. Carson almost regained his footing, but couldn't get stable, and he fell into the water, Rodney's fishing rod still in his hand.

Onboard the houseboat, a loud yell, followed by another woke Sheppard with a start, "Wha…." He rose up to see Ronon rushing to the deck railing. The big man leaned on the railing and began to laugh.

Sheppard got up slowly, and joined him, "Ronon, what's going on?" Ronon pointed toward the Whaler, anchored not very far away. They could see two heads bobbing in the water.

"I got here just in time to see Beckett go over the side; it didn't appear intentional. McKay was already in the water."

Sheppard sighed deeply, "McKay's fault, no doubt. They seem okay; they're swimming toward the ladder. Oh, this is going to be good." He looked at Ronon and they both grinned broadly.

At the transom of the Whaler, Carson pulled the swim ladder down and climbed onboard. He put the rod down that he was still holding, and then looked over the stern to where Rodney was clinging on to the ladder.

"Well, come on, Rodney, climb aboard."

McKay was breathing hard, "A little help please…my hand hurts." He held up his now wet bandaged hand.

Carson dropped his head backward, then leaned over, grabbing Rodney's forearm, "If you pull me into the water again, I will not be happy."

Rodney, with some difficulty, climbed onboard. "What the hell were you doing, you startled me."

"Yes, I know…it's my fault. I think it's time we head back."

Rodney sat down on the bench, "It's about time."

Carson secured the fish he had caught before he fell overboard, then pulled up anchor, and turned the Whaler toward the houseboat.

"Oh, crap," Rodney moaned, noticing Sheppard and Ronon standing on the upper deck watching, "we are so never going to live this down."

~~ooOoo~~

Sunset was approaching and thick ominous looking clouds had moved in, dropping the temperature considerably. Carson cleaned the trout he caught, after he and Rodney had taken hot showers. The doctor/chef was now grilling the fish, and vegetable kabobs, hoping to beat the rain. Ronon was fussing about in the kitchen when Sheppard emerged from his cabin after taking a shower. McKay was curled up on one of the couches, his hand freshly bandaged, engrossed in his laptop.

Ronon turned around, "Hey, Sheppard; you okay?"

"Yeah, much better, what are you doing?"

He grinned, "Beckett's teaching me to cook. I'm doing the baked potatoes and the bread."

"Good job, Chewie, " he looked over at McKay. "So how's our diving champion?"

"Har dee har har…flyboy; it was an accident, Beckett surprised me."

"Rodney, the Whaler is the most stable, unsinkable boat out there and you fell off one."

"Bite me, I didn't want to go fishing anyhow," he retorted. He glanced at Sheppard; the colonel's face was passive, but his eyes were piercing. Rodney immediately realized what he had said.

"I know, John…I know. Each time I say that I realize how stupid I am. I should be thankful that he's here to go fishing with, I…I forget…I mean…he's here. I forget about that day…"

"It's okay; I forget too. I just think we need to remember that we got him back and not take anything for granted."

Carson came into the salon, "Dinner will be in about five minutes; how are those potatoes coming?"

"They are done and I put the bread in when you said, it should be done in a couple of minutes."

Carson patted Ronon on the back, and began to pour melted butter from a pan on the stove into two bowls and added spices. He retrieved a couple of lemons from the fridge and halving one, squeezed lemon into one of the bowls.

"Carson, what the hell are you doing…lemon? You're going to kill me."

"Relax, do ya think I'd try to kill you, Rodney. There are two bowls of butter for the fish, one with lemon and one without…I'm putting a little parsley into yours to make certain I don't get them mixed up. You're not allergic to parsley are ya?"

Sheppard had walked to the cupboard, and began to pull out plates "McKay, make yourself useful; help me set the table."

Reluctantly, McKay helped, placing the plates and silverware that Sheppard handed him on the table, then walked away.

"McKay, who taught you to set a table, you've got the silverware all wrong."

"Who are you, Martha Stewart?"

"Obviously, social skills were not in your curriculum," Sheppard fumed, as he corrected the silverware placement.

"Oh, bite me."

Carson giggled, "I think our resident scientist is getting fussy, he needs food."

"He needs something," Sheppard added sarcastically.

A few minutes later, Carson brought the fish and veggies inside, and they sat down to dinner. Through the open salon windows, the first rumble of thunder reached them.

After dinner, Ronon washed the dishes with Sheppard insisting on drying. Once they had everything put away, they decided to go on the upper deck to watch the incoming storm. It hadn't started raining yet, so they took four of the lounge chairs and put them on the open deck, next to the hot tub.

Ronon collected cold beers from the cooler, and handed them out, chuckling as Sheppard frowned at the O'Doul's he gave him.

"Carson, I'd like a real beer."

"Not yet, laddie; you've done really well today. You've only taken pills this morning and this afternoon, but you are not ready to be weaned off of them. Maybe tomorrow, we'll see if we can cut back, but only if you get a good nights sleep. I want you to take two more pills at bedtime.

"I also want to get in the hot tub."

"If your wound looks good tomorrow, I'll put some waterproof tape over the bandage, and you can get in for a while."

"Gee, thanks, Momma Carson."

"Cheeky."

They stayed on the deck for nearly two hours, chatting about their trip. Carson talked about opening some of the wine they got at the vineyard, when Sheppard could drink it, prompting Rodney to groan, remembering how drunk he and Carson had gotten. Just as the conversation got around to the Celine Dion concert, Carson reminiscing about the gorgeous, sexy blue dress Dion wore during her show, the first raindrops began to fall. Ronon sent the others inside while he secured the chairs in the storage bins, and threw the beer bottles into the trash bin. By the time, he came into the salon the rain was beginning in torrents.

Once Ronon joined them, Carson brought out the ice cream. They sat in the dimly lit salon, eating dessert and listening to the heavy rain pound on the houseboat. The almost constant low rumble of thunder, was accompanied at times by the lighting mimicking a strobe light, flashes of purple-white light brightening the salon.

Carson stood next to a window for a long time, prompting Sheppard to ask, "Penny for your thoughts, doc."

A flash of lighting illuminated Carson's face, revealing a slight smile. "I was just thinking about when I was a lad; I used to spend a few weeks during the summer with my uncle who had a summer house on Loch Fyne. He also had a houseboat and we'd go out for a few days at a time, just cruising up and down the loch. When my grandfather and father were alive, they'd go with us. My grandfather taught me to fish on one of those trips, and later, when I was older, about twelve, my uncle taught me to water-ski." He paused for a moment, but no one spoke, waiting for Carson to continue.

"The year before me dad died we were on the houseboat when an awful storm hit. The loch is a sea loch, open to the ocean. The water was very choppy; the boat was rocking back and forth, and I got scared. I guess I yelled out, and my dad came running into the salon where I was sleeping on a couch. He stayed with me the remainder of the night, calming me, telling me I needn't be worried. He told me "Mother Nature" was just kicking up her heels, having a wee bit of fun the only way she could." As a particularly bright lighting flash, followed immediately by loud clap of thunder, Carson remarked, "Looks like Mother Nature's having quite a wee party tonight."

Rodney spoke, "I remember being mesmerized by thunderstorms, wondering what caused them. I used to sneak out of the house to do 'scientific research' when I was eight or nine; my mother finally threatened to take away my chemistry set if I didn't stay inside."

Carson laughed, "So, now we know, Rodney didn't know when to come in out of the rain."

"I think he's gotten a little smarter than that, Carson. However, I grant you… he doesn't know the appropriate times to take a swim."

"Oh, you are so funny, fly boy"

Sheppard yawned, then answered, "I know…I am, aren't I?"

"John, you are getting tired, time to take your pills and go to bed."

"You know, what; I'm not going to argue with you this time. I am tired."

Within a half-hour, the men had retired to bed: Ronon, the last to turn in, as he made certain all the doors and windows were secure. Outside the storms didn't give any indication of letting up anytime soon. It wasn't long before all four were lulled to sleep by the thunder and the gentle rocking of the boat.

Sheppard snapped awake; uncertain what had awakened him, or how long he had slept. He had left his window open a tiny crack; he loved the sounds of storms and had fallen asleep quickly listening to the thunder and steady rain. He heard it again, a faint noise, different from the sounds of nature. He struggled up, and padded to the window, opening it wider, hoping he could hear the sound more clearly.

The rain was still very heavy, pounding against the boat. During the next bright lighting flash, he thought he caught something white and bright blue in the water. Then he heard the sound again, and this time, there was no doubt that it was a cry for help.

Sheppard rushed into the hall, yelling down the stairs for Ronon. He ran into the salon, to the larger windows, trying to spot where the sound was coming from. Ronon ran in, 9-mil in hand, sleepy and confused Rodney and Carson behind him.

Ronon rushed to his side, "Sheppard, what's happening?"

"I think there's someone in the water calling for help. I saw something white in the water toward the stern of the boat, and I'm pretty certain that I heard a cry for help."

Carson moved into action, "There's a spotlight on the bow. I'll shine it into the water; you see if you can see anything."

Within a couple of seconds, the bright light was shining across the water, revealed the keel and hull of a boat overturned in the water, a large hole in the hull. In the water, standing out in the bright spot light were four orange life jackets. Sheppard could make out two adults and two small children clinging to the hull.

"Ronon, we need to get them out of the water. Carson, radio the Park Rangers; Rodney, take the light and keep it on those people." He rushed out onto the front deck, pulling life jackets from the storage bin. He tossed jackets to Carson and Rodney, and was putting one on as he heard a splash. Ronon had jumped into the rough water from the upper deck, swimming toward the boat.

"Damn it, crazy bastard," Sheppard had swung a foot over the railing on the front deck, when Carson stopped him.

"No, I'm going…you stay here." Carson pushed him back, and jumped over the railing, wading into the water. Sheppard started over the railing, but Rodney pulled him back, "No, Sheppard; you can't."

Sheppard was breathing hard, "I'm going on the upper deck; I'll use the light up there to lead the rescue boats here." Before Rodney could stop him, Sheppard was gone.

The ladder was slippery from the rain, and Sheppard tripped as he stepped onto the deck. He reached out for the side of the hot tub but missed and slammed into the deck. The fall knocked the wind out of him, but he struggled up, his chest burning from the pain. He willed himself to the fly bridge where the spotlight was stored.

Once he had the light, Sheppard pointed it toward the overturned boat. Ronon was swimming toward shore. He had a woman in a lifesaving grip; she was clutching a small child. Carson had reached the boat, and was reaching for the man when the current caused by the heavy rain rushing off the rocks into the cove, broke the man's hold on the other child. The current quickly swept the boy out of his father and Carson's reach.

There was only one thing Sheppard could do, he propped the light up on the fly bridge and headed for the slide. He hit the cold water with a splash, and it took a second for him to orient himself. He yelled for the child, hoping he would get a response. In the water, sounds were more muffled; fortunately, a flash of lighting illuminated an orange object, the life jacket. Sheppard began to swim as hard as he could toward the small child.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sheppard, guided by the brief illumination from the lighting, reached the crying child. He grabbed the small boy and against the current driven by the rain, he swam for shore.

Raising his head when he took a breath, Sheppard could see the spotlight shining on the beach. The cold water was sapping what little strength he had; he wasn't certain he was going to make it to shore. As he weakened, he felt like he was going to pass out, but the faint sirens from the rescue boats kept him going, help was almost to them. Then he felt the child being pulled away from him. He was struggling, trying to keep from losing the child, when strong arms encircled him and a deep voice yelled in his ear.

"It's okay, Sheppard; Beckett's got the kid. I've got you."

Ronon, it was Ronon; Sheppard gave in to the darkness.

~~ooOoo~~

The houseboat was crowded. Several members of the Park Rangers rescue team were in the salon as the rescued family was being treated by the Ranger paramedics. Fortunately, they were not injured seriously. The father was badly bruised from trying to protect his family from debris washed into the water by the storm, and the mother and the small boy had swallowed quite a bit of water, but they were going to be fine. The older child, a little girl, was scared but unharmed.

Carson and another paramedic were in Sheppard's cabin, tending to the unconscious colonel. The paramedic had helped Beckett get Sheppard out of the wet clothes and under the bedcovers. A Park police officer had joined them, and Ronon and Rodney were waiting worriedly by the door.

The paramedic was taking Sheppard's blood pressure, "Blood pressure's great considering his condition, must be in excellent shape to have those readings after this ordeal."

The police officer asked, "You say he was shot a few days ago?"

"Yes, over a week ago."

"Dr. Beckett, I'll need to check out your story. Four men on a houseboat and one of them recovering from a gunshot wound, I think you can see why I would need to investigate."

Beckett answered, "Of course I do. You can contact Detective Hank Marshall of the Las Vegas Police Department; he'll fill you in on the details." Carson pulled open a dresser drawer and took out Sheppard's military ID, handing it to the officer, who had already seen the IDs of the others.

The officer took a couple of notes and handed the ID back to Carson, "I'm sorry to have to do this, just consider it routine, doctor. Hope he does okay, that was a pretty gutsy thing for him to do, considering his injury."

"Well, if you knew him, you'd know it's just who he is, officer." The officer nodded in reply and left.

The paramedic was tucking his equipment back into his bag. "You need anything else, doctor?"

"No, laddie, he just passed out from fatigue; once he gets some rest, he'll be alright."

"Well, you know where to find us if you need us. Take care, and great job guys; that family owes their lives to you."

Another of the Rangers stuck his head in the door, "Mr. and Mrs. Cooper would like to speak to you, if that's okay."

Carson nodded, and Rodney and Ronon stepped into Sheppard's cabin; the Coopers appeared in the doorway.

Mr. Cooper's voice was trembling, "We…we don't know how to thank you. I understand that the colonel is the one who heard my yell for help. I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't. We were trying to outrun the storm and get back to the marina when the boat hit a rock. I managed to get us into the cove, and tried to get close to land so I could ground the boat, but took on too much water, and she sank, then overturned. You put yourselves in danger to save my family; I…" His voice broke and he couldn't continue.

Mrs. Cooper smiled, "We are so grateful to all of you; we would like to thank the colonel personally when he wakes up. We've left our number on the kitchen counter, please contact us, and let us know how he is doing."

"We will…I promise. Don't worry, Colonel Sheppard will be fine."

Ronon walked out behind the Coopers; but Rodney stopped at the doorway, "Carson, is he going to be okay?"

"Aye, Rodney…don't you know…the hero always survives."

As the rain continued, Carson watched out the window in Sheppard's cabin as the rescue boats pulled away with the Cooper family. He could smell coffee brewing and smiled; Ronon, no doubt, he was learning to make coffee as well. They were going to need it. It was going to be a long night watching over Sheppard once again.

End of Road Trip: Part Four

Lake Mead, Gone Fishin' Days One and Two

More Lake…uh…Loch…Mead days to come….soon. Thanks so much for you patience, I'll try not to let this much time pass before the next installment. Anxious to hear what you think about their Lake Mead adventure. Thanks for reading!