Title: Road Trip

Sub-title: Part Five: The Wild Wild West…Day 2

Author: stella_pegasi

Rating: K +

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

Word Count: Part Five: Day 2 8,172

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: Their second day in the Grand Canyon….just a typical day for our boys.

I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter of Road Trip. Between work, a continuing problem with my wrist and trying to write a novel…I've been swamped. For all of you who sent messages, thanks for doing so, you prompted me back to this story. FYI, the next segment is underway, so I promise not to be as tardy in posting again. I will take them through all thirty-plus days of leave.

Thanks again for continuing to read Road Trip; I really appreciate it.

Road Trip

By stella_pegasi

Part Five: The Wild Wild West…Day 2

"Where the hell is he?"

Sheppard absently tapped the steering wheel of the Rover, impatiently waiting for Rodney McKay to join them; he didn't respond to Beckett's question.

Ronon grabbed the door handle, "I'll go get him." As he started to get out of the SUV, Sheppard grabbed his arm.

"No…no need to go after him, I set the time a half-hour early; he's not late, just aggravating."

Beckett chortled, "John…you certainly have more patience with Rodney than anyone else does."

Sheppard leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, "I've had a lot of practice developing patience with McKay; you get used to it."

"You should still let me go get him," Ronon snarked.

"If he's not here in five minutes, you can do just that."

Four minutes later, Rodney exited the hotel. Ronon shrugged, settling back in his seat, "There goes my fun for the morning."

Rodney slid into the back seat, looking around to see three pairs of eyes staring at him; he stammered, "What…what?"

Ronon muttered, "You're late."

Before Rodney could reply, Beckett remarked, "That's not his biggest problem. Where the hell did you get that shirt? Is that what took you so long, trying to decide what to wear?"

Rodney looked down at the light purple shirt he was wearing over a white t-shirt. "What's wrong with my shirt?"

Sheppard started the Rover's engine and pulled away from the curb. "I think it might be the squiggly lines and, seriously, are those strands of pearls painted on?"

"No…it's just a design…and really, you guys are no fashion plates, so bite me."

Beckett teased, "Ooh…you certainly are testy this morning; did you eat enough breakfast?"

Sheppard answered, "Were you paying attention, Carson? I think he ate more than Ronon. He's just being Rodney…by the way, Zelenka says hi, McKay."

"You…you didn't call him…tell…tell me you didn't call him."

Grinning broadly at the obvious anguish in McKay's voice, Sheppard replied, "Yes…I did; he was quite flattered that you thought he had done such an excellent job."

McKay's shoulders slumped and his head dropped against the headrest, "Crap…I'm so screwed."

Sheppard left the hotel parking lot and headed for the Grand Canyon Airport, which was just south of Tusayan. Twenty minutes later, they turned onto the main airport road and parked next to the Papillion Grand Canyon Helicopter terminal.

Hopping out of the Rover, Sheppard motioned toward a sleek red helicopter sitting on the flight line, "Pretty sure that one's ours."

The four men entered the terminal where they filled out paperwork and provided ID. The agent then gave them a quick overview of the tour, instructed them on safety issues, finally directing them to the helicopter pad, where their pilot, a stocky man around fifty, waited for them.

"Hey guys, welcome to Papillion Grand Canyon tours; I'm Bill MacMurray, and I'll be your pilot today."

Sheppard stuck out his hand as he made introductions, "Bill…John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Rodney McKay, and Carson Beckett."

The pilot smiled, "Good to meet you guys. Is this the first time you've flown in a helicopter?"

Sensing his friends looking at him, Sheppard replied, "No, we've all been in a helo before, we're ready to go."

"Then let's get going; hop on in the cockpit and get those seat belts on."

As the pilot ran through his pre-flight inspection of the helicopter's exterior, Carson

asked, "What kind of craft is this, John?"

"It's an EcoStar EC130 B4, made by Eurocopter; it was designed specifically for tourism, hence the large cockpit and the stadium seating. Some police departments are using it for surveillance because of the large windows, and it's used for medical transport as well."

"It's also quiet," Rodney remarked.

Sheppard, sitting alongside Ronon in the two center seats, glanced back at Rodney, who was sitting next to the port window in the four-seat row behind him. "How do you know that?"

"The tail-rotor is shrouded and it has at least eight blades; they probably have variable angular spacing, which distributes the noise over different frequencies. Therefore, it's quieter."

"Good, Rodney, exactly right; the rotor on a Eurocopter is called a Fenestron, and they developed the quieter ride for tourism."

Bill finished his inspection of the outer hull of the helicopter and slipped into the front seat as Rodney was talking, "John, is it?" Sheppard nodded, and Bill continued, "Sounds like you guys know a few things about these birds; military?" The pilot commenced his pre-flight instrument checklist as he waited for Sheppard to answer.

"I'm active duty; my friends are civilian contractors, and yeah...I've flown a few helos."

"I pegged you for a bus driver, am I right?"

Sheppard chuckled, "How do you figure that?"

Bill laughed, "You'd never get by in the Navy with that haircut."

"I don't actually get by with it in the Air Force, but I've usually pissed off the brass about so many other things they forget."

"My kind of pilot; well, you guys sit back and let a Navy boy show you around."

Finishing his checklist, Bill pressed the engine starter button, "Okay, guys, make sure you're strapped in and put your headsets on; we're about to take off." He fiddled with more gauges, then satisfied all was ready, grabbed the throttle and the Eco-Star lifted off into the crystal clear blue sky.

"We'll be heading over the rim pretty quickly, so keep a look out. You'll be hearing a recorded narrator who will explain what you're seeing. Enjoy."

Only a few minutes ticked past before the helicopter surged across the south rim of the canyon, and the ground beneath them evaporated. Despite all that Sheppard had experienced, the sensation of the ground literally vanishing under his feet was breathtaking.

He glanced over at Ronon, not surprised to see the Satedan peering intently out the window, taking in the sights unfolding below them. Bill banked the helicopter and descended into the canyon, the craggy rock walls providing a sense of proportion over the vastness.

During the next forty minutes, they flew around the majestic canyon, over the Little Colorado River's confluence with the Colorado River. The narrow tributary, pale muddy brown from recent cloudbursts, flowed into the emerald-green Colorado River. Through their headsets, the narrator explained that sediment trapped by the Glen Canyon Dam caused the brilliant green tint to the river. They passed through the Dragon Corridor, the widest and deepest area of the Canyon, over the Kaibab Plateau along the North Rim, and other amazing sights before returning to the airport.

Once the rotors stopped, they hopped out of the Eco-Star; Sheppard walked around to the pilot-side cabin door. He held out his hand to Bill, who had just stepped onto the ground,

"Hell of a flight; thanks."

"Glad you enjoyed; I tell you, as many times as I made that run, I still marvel at the sight. It never gets old and each time, the sky is different, the light's different, cloudy, sunny…it's always beautiful."

"I can only imagine; I also imagine the updrafts are tricky."

"You could say that, let's just say, I don't do a lot of sightseeing."

"I noticed; pretty good flying for a postage stamp driver."

Bill laughed, "Touché...but we've had fun, haven't we?"

Sheppard nodded in agreement; he spoke a few minutes more with MacMurray before he headed toward the Rover where his friends were waiting. Beckett handed him a bottle of cold water.

"Here laddie; you need to rehydrate after all that flying about."

Taking a gulp of water, Sheppard motioned for his friends to get in the Rover. As they were exiting the airport, Sheppard asked, "So, you guys have fun?"

"Aye, laddie; that was…amazing, I knew from seeing pictures of the Grand Canyon that it was beautiful, but I had no idea how breathtaking it would be."

Rodney spoke, "I never cared much for geology, but seeing all those layers of rock and all those formations, well…it looks more interesting in the field. I have to say, I thought my stomach was going to leap out of my throat when we crossed over the rim."

Beckett agreed, "Aye...my stomach is still fluttering."

Ronon slumped in his seat, not speaking since they exited the helicopter. Sheppard hesitated to interrupt the Satedan's thoughts, but then asked casually, "Hey, Chewie, what was your favorite part of the flight?"

"Everything, your planet is full of incredible sights. I've been on a lot of planets, really hot ones, some so cold I could barely get to the DHD to dial back out before I froze, mountainous or desert, but never seen anything as amazing as this."

Sheppard flashed a half-grin, "I hear you; it's certainly magnificent in a stark and powerful way."

Beckett asked, "John…I take it that pilot had been in the Navy?" Sheppard nodded, and the doctor continued, "I was wondering why he called you a bus driver and why you called him a…what was it…?"

"A postage stamp driver…," Sheppard answered.

"Why did you call each other those things?"

"Well, 'driver' means pilot in military slang. The Navy thinks that our dress blues look like the suits bus drivers wear, so they call us bus drivers. We call Navy pilots postage stamp drivers, because from altitude, the aircraft carriers look as small as postage stamps."

"Terms of endearment, I take it," Beckett commented, grinning as he spoke.

Grinning back, Sheppard said, "Yeah, you could say so. Bill's an excellent pilot; the wind currents and updrafts in that canyon can be brutal. It was a good flight."

"Aye, that it was and I got some good pictures; especially, one of Rodney looking scared as we crossed the rim."

"I was not scared, just surprised when the ground disappeared."

"You were scared, Rodney," Beckett snickered, 'look at the picture."

"I told you…I was not scared."

Sheppard relaxed against his seat, as he listened to Rodney and Carson's bickering, something they did so well. They'd be at the hotel in a short time, might as well let them bicker until then.

~ooOoo~

As the Rover came to a halt in the hotel parking lot, Sheppard broached the subject of what they would do for the remainder of the day. "So, I'd like to go hiking down one of the trails this afternoon, who's with me?"

McKay blurted out, "Down one of those steep trails? No way, I'm doing that."

Ronon snarled, "You climb trails all the time, what's wrong with you?"

McKay harrumphed, "That's different; I have to do that when on missions. I don't have to here, and I'm not going to."

"Rodney, you don't have to do any hiking…you can do whatever you want to do." Sheppard hopped out of the Rover, "Me…I'm gonna hike; Ronon, Carson, any takers?"

Ronon immediately said yes, but Beckett hesitated, glancing from Sheppard to Rodney, "John, I think I'll keep Rodney company if it's okay with you."

"Fine with me, doc, but I kind of expected you'd like to hike. Didn't you do a lot of mountain climbing in Scotland?"

Beckett flashed a soft grin and nodded, "Yes, laddie; I did, as a wee lad. As an adult, I tried to avoid it like the plague."

"Fair enough; let's go see the tour desk and see what's available."

Heading for the El Tovar, they cut across a small patch of grass on the edge of the parking lot, and McKay tripped over a large stone. Ronon grabbed him, keeping McKay from falling on his face. The Satedan grunted, "Watch where you're going, little man."

McKay jerked his arm away, looking down at the ground, "That…that's not a rock…it's a grave marker. What the hell is a grave doing in the middle of the parking lot?"

Sheppard started walking toward the hotel entrance, "Probably someone who whined all the time and his friends got tired of it."

"Sheppard…bite me." McKay brushed past Sheppard, stalking toward the hotel, while Ronon and Beckett snickered and followed.

After Sheppard and Ronon made reservations to join a hiking tour and Beckett talked McKay into a bike tour of the canyon rim, McKay announced he was hungry.

"Rodney, how can you be hungry?"

"I'm hungry Sheppard, there is no how to it; let's go get lunch." McKay turned and headed into the restaurant, Beckett following him.

Ronon slapped Sheppard on the shoulder, "Come on; I could eat."

Forty minutes later, Sheppard was finishing the last bite of his BLT club sandwich as he listened to Rodney chattering about the history of the Grand Canyon.

"I was reading about the Ancient Pueblo People; they were the first Native American culture in the canyon. What's cool, is that they are referred sometimes as Anaszi, it's Navajo for "ancient ones." He took a big bite from his chicken sandwich, then mumbled, "Isn't that cool, like our Ancients."

"Rodney, hush," Sheppard whispered sternly.

"What, no one heard me."

"No, just the entire dining room, no more talking about…about those people. How do you even know that? You don't strike me as someone who cares about early North American history."

"I Google'd Grand Canyon this morning…found a Wikipedia article, then just kept clicking on the links." He took a drink of iced tea, "It's fascinating how much data there is online."

Sheppard exchanged glances with Carson and Ronon, "Now we know why he was late this morning."

"Yeah, well, flyboy, you are the one dragging us to all of these places that we haven't been to, so expect some history lessons."

Ronon leaned forward, "So, McKay, what's the Hopi House?"

"Hopi House…I have no idea."

Beckett bobbed his head, a snarky grim on his face, "Mr. Know-It-All, doesn't know everything. Rodney, have you noticed that large adobe building sitting on the edge of the parking lot, near the Rim?"

Rodney looked perplexed, "That ugly tan building?"

"You bugger, it's not ugly, and for your information, the building is a replica of a Hopi Indian building, was designed and built by Mary Jane Colter around 1905. She designed a lot of building in the Canyon, even decorated the hotel. The building housed Hopi artisans, who sold their crafts to tourists. Today, it's a museum for Native American crafts, and has a gift shop."

McKay stared at Beckett, "How did you know that?"

"Sorry to break it to you, McKay, but you apparently aren't the only well-informed person at this table," Sheppard snarked, motioning to their server to bring the check. A couple of minutes later she handed Sheppard the bill, which Carson promptly snatched out his hand. Sheppard scowled at the doctor, asking the group, "We haven't been to the Hopi House, how 'bout we go over there now? We've got about an hour before our hiking tour starts."

The Hopi House was a short walk along the rim wall from the hotel. The early afternoon sun gleamed onto the dark golden-umber stained walls of the mud-covered structure. Crowds of people lined the rim wall, as others streamed in and out of the Hopi House; they joined the queue of tourists entering the museum.

Beckett and Ronon ducked as they crossed the threshold of the narrow, low doorway into the first floor gift shop. McKay, however, turned to say something to Sheppard and ran smack into the top of the doorframe.

"Damn it, what the hell…?"

Struggling not to laugh, Sheppard replied, "Hey, watch where you're going." After a cursory look to make certain McKay didn't appear hurt, he continued, "Really,

Rodney…you're a klutz."

Frowning, McKay rubbed his head, where a red mark was appearing, "I didn't know the stupid door was so short."

Beckett had rushed over, and checked McKay out, "You're okay, Rodney; just a little booboo." McKay's face puffed up, turning red, but he didn't offer Beckett a retort. He walked past Beckett and headed inside.

The interior consisted of mud-covered walls, stained the same color as the exterior. Smooth support timbers dotted the floor; the ceiling thatched with narrow twigs in a timber framework. Display shelves holding pottery of beiges, tans and browns, some accented with blues, lavenders, and greens dye, woven rugs, jewelry, and other native artifacts awaited purchase.

The friends headed in different directions viewing the merchandise. Sheppard caught up with Ronon about ten minutes later; the big man was standing in front of a pottery display, unaware he was as much of a tourist attraction as the native crafts. A six-foot-six muscular man with dreadlocks wasn't going to blend in with the crowd; several tourists were taking his picture. Sheppard imagined the tourist suspected his friend was a Native American. He chuckled to himself; the term for Native American warriors, 'Brave,' certainly fit Ronon. If he was anything, Ronon Dex was brave.

Ronon glanced at Sheppard, "This pottery…it looks like stuff Teyla's people would make."

Sheppard picked up a round, lidded vessel, remembering the Athosian pottery he had given Elizabeth Weir for her birthday, many years before. He whispered, "Yeah, it does resemble the work of her people. Dr. Cramer from SGC archeology department once told us much of our mannerisms, likes, dislikes are contained within the genes handed down to us. If the Ancients seeded the universe, he said it would make sense that many cultures would deliver similar objects, beliefs systems and the like, but with unique differences. He said it would explain why we find familiar objects and societies wherever we explore."

"We're all the same, no matter where we come from."

"Yeah, something like that."

"I want to buy a piece of this pottery for Teyla."

Sheppard turned the pottery he was holding over to look at the base, "We need to go upstairs where the artisan stuff is, this was made in Indonesia; it's not the real deal; come on."

Leading Ronon up the narrow staircase, they found the merchandise on the upper floor to be of much higher quality. Ronon picked out a piece of pottery, along with some beaded jewelry, while Sheppard examined a selection of native rugs. After paying for their purchases, they exited the Hopi House and waited for Beckett and McKay outside. They were sitting on a low concrete structure outside the front door, when their two friends emerged laden with shopping bags. Sheppard saw several dream-catchers emerging from one of Beckett's bags.

"It's about time you got here; we have about twenty minutes to join the tours." Sheppard stood up and turned toward the hotel, "Just enough time to take this stuff to the rooms." The rest of his team followed.

~ooOoo~

McKay and Beckett hopped off the shuttle bus at Hopi Point, where the guided bicycle tour was to start. The tour representatives equipped them with bikes, helmets, and safety vests.

The guide, a young woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, spoke to the group of about fifteen bikers, a few retirees, a couple of families with small children, Beckett and McKay rounding out the group. "The biking trail starts here at Hopi Point on the historic Hermit's Rest Road, one of the best views of the canyon's inner gorge. The road, originally built by the Santa Fe Railroad, winds around the canyon rim for miles offering some of the grandest views along the South Rim. Now, we are going to take a leisurely pace as we head down the road. Stay together and use your bike horns if you need to get my attention for any reason. We will stop periodically to take advantage of the beautiful vistas." Hopping on her bike, the guide said, "Okay, everyone…put your helmets on and let's go for a ride."

Beckett was strapping on his helmet as he watched McKay, who had mounted his bike, wobble as he fought to get his balance. "Rodney, tell me…you do know how to ride a bike?"

"Of course I know how to ride a bike," McKay muttered as he quickly dropped his left foot to keep from falling over. "It's just been a while, now leave me alone." He managed to get his bike stabilized, but the overprotective Beckett slid in behind him as the guide led them down the path along the rim.

~ooOoo~

The other Atlantians disembarked at Hermit's Point, about 500 feet west was the Hermit trailhead, their destination. Sheppard and Ronon had changed into boots and grabbed a couple of canteens from the Rover before they left the hotel. Sheppard was strapping his canteen to his belt when the tour guide approached, handing them walking sticks.

"Hey, you guys look like you've done this before."

Sheppard smiled wryly, "Yep…we've done bit of hiking."

The guide nodded, ""You two take the lead; I'll follow with the slower folk. Just don't get too far ahead of us, okay?"

"Not a problem, thanks." Sheppard motioned for Ronon to follow, and they headed for the trailhead, the guide and his group on their six.

Ronon growled, "Do I have to use these sticks?"

"Yeah, will keep the guide happy; besides I think this trail gets a bit tricky in places." He held up one of the sticks, "This will help you keep your balance."

The view was breathtaking, as they began their descent the path was wide and well marked; occasionally, loose rocks scattered across the trail. Sheppard and Ronon had decided on hiking the Dripping Springs Trail, where conditions were tougher than the Bright Angel and South Kaibab Trails.

As they descended further from the trailhead, the path quickly became narrower, sometimes less than a foot of room between the edge and the rock face. Loose rock made the footing treacherous and once Ronon slipped, causing Sheppard a moment of panic.

"Ronon, damn it; don't fall over the edge. I don't want to do some daring rescue; we've had enough of that shit."

"Sheppard, I'm not gonna fall. How far did you say we were going?"

"About 3.5 miles to Dripping Springs, then back again."

"Not very far."

Chuckling, Sheppard replied, "Yeah, well, Chewy….not enough time to hike all the way to the canyon floor, and camp overnight. I'd like to have done that, but we still have a lot to see; can't stay here forever."

'We could."

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind that either."

"Don't believe that Sheppard; one word we could go home, and you'd be out of here."

Sheppard stopped and faced his friend, "In a heartbeat, Ronon, in a heartbeat."

~ooOoo~

Rodney was huffing a bit but keeping up with the group. They had traveled nearly two miles, when the guide halted them to point out the Abyss. The group got off their bikes and walked toward the rim's edge. The guide walked ahead of them and then addressed the group.

"This lookout is called the Abyss; most lookouts on the South Rim are promontories, but this one is an indentation. From here you get a real feel for the depth of the Grand Canyon; in front of you is only air, with a sheer 3000' drop to the Tonto Platform, a wide sandstone terrace about two-thirds of the way down. I suggest that if you are afraid of heights that you don't get very close to the edge. Parents, please keep control of your children; we don't want any accidents."

McKay and Beckett hopped off their bikes, McKay taking a long swig of water from the bottle he'd tucked in the bike holder. "It's getting hot out here."

"It's a bit hot, Rodney, but it's a beautiful day; just look at that sky, dark blue with fluffy white clouds. Reminds me of a gorgeous sunny day in Scotland, the clear sky, fresh air…ah…lovely."

"It's never this hot in Scotland," Rodney lamented, removing his sunglasses and wiping sweat from his brow.

"Aye, that might be true, but it's every bit as beautiful. Let's go have a look at the Abyss."

The friends walked to the edge of the lookout, not speaking for a few minutes as they took in the breathtaking view, before them lay the craggy peaks and walls of the canyon, bathed in luminescent light. Striations in the rock provided a history of the geology of the canyon, yet managed to resemble a work of art rather than a statement of science.

Rodney whispered almost reverently, "That…that's stunning."

"Aye that it is…"

"Carson, this morning John told me I could go back to San Francisco if I wanted."

Beckett sucked in a breath, "Are you going to go back?"

McKay gazed around the canyon, "No, and I 'm glad I decided not to take John's offer. I would have missed this."

Beckett smiled, squeezing McKay's shoulder, "I wouldn't trade this trip for anything. The chance to spend time with my best friends…my second-chance…is priceless." McKay nodded and Beckett said, "Now go stand on that rock, and I'll get your picture."

McKay whined, "I not getting near that edge."

"Rodney, don't be a jessie…get on the rock."

"Jessie…what did you call me?"

"I called you a jessie, it's a Scottish word for wuss; now stand on that rock."

Reluctantly, McKay stood on the rock, but as soon as Beckett snapped his picture, he retreated from the rim. Beckett asked Rodney to take a picture of him on the point, then took several pictures of the view. About ten minutes later, the guide gathered them for the next leg of their trip, Pima Point.

~ooOoo~

Sheppard and Ronon had managed to get further ahead of the tour than they had intended, so they stopped for a bit for the group to catch up. Ronon was sitting cross-legged on the trail, as Sheppard sat on a rock next to a large brambly bush, prickly cactus plants surrounding the area.

Stretching his long legs across the trail, Sheppard squinted in the mid-afternoon sun. Despite his sunglasses, the brilliant glare was blinding, ''It's hot and bright out here," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I like it."

Ronon's voice was low, and Sheppard pulled his gaze from the canyon to look at Ronon. The Satedan was staring at something along the trail; tracking to the spot Ronon was fixated on, Sheppard laughed, "Cute lizard."

"There was a time when that lizard would have been my dinner."

"Well, not any longer, at least here…I'll buy you a steak tonight at the hotel, no lizard."

"That's a deal, Sheppard…and more tequila."

Sheppard chuckled loudly, scaring the lizard, who scurried away, "And more tequila, Chewie." Glancing up the trail, he spotted the rest of their group, "Come on, they're catching up with us, time to move."

The trail became a bit more treacherous in some areas, and Sheppard decided to hold back, in case one of the other hikers needed assistance, realizing not all the group was experienced. Eventually, they came to their destination, Dripping Springs.

A wider path led them to an alcove where the spring that gave a name to the trail was located. Glistening water dripped from the rock wall forming the ceiling of the alcove, falling into a small pool below. Verdant plants grew along the ceiling edge, and surrounded the water reservoir. The guide cautioned them not to drink the water unless it was treated, filtered, or boiled before consuming. Nearby, a small shelter with benches where the hikers could escape the hot sun quickly filled with tired hikers.

Sheppard untied his outer shirt he had wrapped around his waist earlier, and used it to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. As he tugged his sweaty grey t-shirt away from his chest, he puffed, "Even my jeans are soaked…hotter than it looks out here."

When Ronon didn't answer, Sheppard looked around to see the Satedan had walked further down the trail to an area where he could see into a gorge. Sheppard joined him and so did their guide.

"You know, as many times as I've led hikers down this trail, I swear I've never gotten over the impact of seeing these views. Ever seen anything more beautiful?"

The image of Atlantis sitting on New Lantia's ocean immediately filled Sheppard's mind, but he shook his head, "Hard to think of any where the scenery would be better than this."

The guide nodded in agreement, "We're going to rest here for about twenty minutes, then head back up the trail. There's some weather coming in early this evening, so I want to get everyone back on the rim in plenty of time to get back to their lodging." One of the other hikers yelled out a question to the guide and he took off.

"He's right...we should rest a bit," reaching into his jeans' pocket Sheppard pulled out a couple of trail bars he picked up at the hotel gift shop when he bought water to fill up their canteens. "Here, we'll probably need the energy on the way back." They found a couple of flat rocks in the shade of a line of trees near the pool, and relaxed.

~ooOoo~

McKay and Beckett were riding side by side, at the rear of the group. They were not cycling at a high rate of speed due to the children, who were along, which appeared to please Rodney.

Beckett glance over at his friend who was sweating, "Well, I think you're going to sweat off a few pounds today."

"Har de har har, I might sweat it off, but I am going to eat like a pig tonight; I'm starving."

"Oh...that really surprises me, Rodney McKay is hungry. Don't worry, John gave me some trail mix bars, when we get to Pima Point we'll eat them."

"I'd like mine now."

"No, just drink your water."

They rode on, stopping occasionally stopping to take a quick look at another majestic view of the canyon. At the last stop, the guide told them that they would be at Pima Point in a few minutes. The cyclists leading the pack began to slow, when one of the children, a little boy around nine-years-old, lost control of his bike, veering directly into McKay's path. With no time to react, McKay slammed into the fallen bike, barely able to keep the tires from running over the child's legs. When the bikes collided, McKay tumbled over the handlebars, and landed in a grove of trees along the roadway.

"Rodney," Beckett jumped off his bike, letting it drop to the ground, and ran to his friend.

McKay was moaning, "What the hell…that kid just stopped…"

Beckett quickly look McKay over, "Can you move your arms and legs?'

"I don't know…"

"Well, try moving them…I'm going check on the boy."

Beckett raced over to the parents, who were attending to their son. The little guy was crying, his right arm and leg covered with abrasions. After making a cursory exam to determine if the boy had any broken bones, Beckett spoke to the guide, then returned to McKay.

Now sitting up, the scientist was rubbing his shoulder and upper arm, "I'm okay…skinned my arm up and my ankle, I think. How's the kid?"

"Scared but nothing appears broken, just banged and scraped up. The guide's getting her first-aid kit, so I can tend to both of you. Can you get up?"

"Yeah," McKay gingerly rose to his fee, "Yikes, my arm hurts."

"Well, you don't appear to have any broken bones either. We'll just get some antiseptic ointment on those scrapes and you'll have a story to tell John and Ronon."

"Oh lovely…another 'Rodney is a klutz' story. Why don't we just keep this to ourselves?"

"Come on, once I get you two patched up, we'll eat our power bars, and enjoy the view."

Beckett finished cleaning and dressing the worst of the boy's wound, and took care of McKay's. "Here's your snack," handing the bar to McKay, "let's walk over to the rim so that we can see this view."

"I'd rather sit," McKay mumbled, his mouth full of power bar.

"No, moving around is good for you, keep your muscles from getting stiff."

They walked along the curving pathway to the rim's edge, once again in awe of the view. Beckett pointed to the bottom of the canyon, "Look there's the river." From their altitude, the river appeared as a narrow silver strand winding its way though the canyon floor, "Beautiful."

They leaned on the metal railing for a while, chewing on their power bars. It was late afternoon, and the sun was turning the rock faces of the eastern canyon walls an amber-gold color. Both men were quiet; taking in the view, Beckett taking pictures, when the guide walked up.

"Hey, guys," she stopped, "Can you hear that?" The faint sound of water splashing reached their ears, "That's the Granite Rapids echoing up the canyon walls."

Beckett smiled, "That's cool."

She smiled, "Yes it is. We need to go on to Hermit's Rest. The injured boy's parents decided to wait for the next shuttle, so they are staying here. If you would like to as well, that's okay."

Before Rodney could answer, Beckett said, "No, we are going to meet our friends who are hiking at Hermit's Rest, so we'll go on."

"Then let's get on our bikes, we only have about a mile to go, and the route is along the greenway. Lot of trees, shade, a snack bar, gift shop, restrooms, and air conditioning; lot nicer than out here."

Beckett answered, "We're right behind you; come on, Rodney." McKay didn't argue.

~ooOoo~

It was hot, and although they were only about halfway back up the trail, Sheppard was almost out of water. He was sweating profusely but had to admit to himself that he was enjoying the hike. Since being shot in Vegas, he hadn't really had any physical activity other than a day or so of swimming, and it felt good expending energy.

Ronon was a few steps ahead of him, two young woman hikers between them. They decided to stay with their group hiking back up the trail. Most of their fellow hikers were in decent shape, but the strenuous climb was beginning to take its toll. The uphill portion of the hike was going to take at least twice as long as the downhill trek. Their guide stationed himself in the middle of the pack to keep an eye on a couple of hikers who were very tired, assigning one of the younger male hikers to the rear. They had crossed the halfway point when a group of boisterous hikers, without a guide, came into view.

The four young men were obviously having a good time. As they approached Ronon, the big man blocked their way. Ronon spoke, "You guys need to step aside until we pass."

One of the guys, stepped up, "Yeah, and why is that."

The tenor of Ronon's voice didn't change, but Sheppard saw his shoulders square and realized this was not going to be good. Quietly, Ronon said, "It's the rules, hikers going down the trail give way to hikers on the way up."

"Get out of my way old man, I'm going down."

Before Ronon could react, the guy pushed past Ronon and bumped into one of the young women in front of Sheppard, sending her stumbling. Sheppard reached out to grab her, but stepped on a loose rock and lost his balance. He felt his hand brush against the woman and pushed her toward the rock face. An attempt to stabilize himself with the walking sticks failed, and as he fell over the edge of the trail, he heard Ronon yell his name.

"Sheppard…," Ronon rushed to the spot where Sheppard went over, fear for his friend evident in his voice, "Sheppard…" Peering over the trail's edge, he uttered a relieved grunt. John Sheppard somehow managed to grab onto a scrubby bush growing out of the side of the rock face about five feet from the trail.

The problem was, Sheppard was only holding onto the brush with his left hand, one very sweaty, slippery hand. He looked up at Ronon, "Uh…buddy…could use some help."

Ronon turned around and laid down on the trail, the other hikers scattering as best they could to give him room, he extended his arm out, "Sheppard, reach up, I'll grab your hand."

"Okay," Sheppard tried to get a food planted against the wall, but the rock kept crumbling under his boot. He swung his arm up as hard as he could but Ronon was a few inches out of range. As he started to slide further over the edge in order to reach Sheppard, the guide stopped him.

"Hang on, I've almost got a rope ready, give me a couple of seconds. I'm gonna tie you off, then we'll lower you until you reach him. " The guide yelled for help; and two of the young men in their group as well as one from the new hikers, rushed to help.

Ronon looked over the edge, "Hang on buddy, just a second." As he was talking, he felt hands looping the rope through his belt.

The guide tapped him on the shoulder, "We've got you secure, and the rope is around a study rock. We'll hold onto as you lower yourself, okay?"

Ronon grunted yes, and began to slide over the edge, when he thought he was close enough, he told his friend, "Try it again, reach for my hand." Sheppard was struggling to hold onto the bush; his sweaty left hand slipped twice while Ronon was talking to him.

Sheppard once again used all his strength to swing his arm toward Ronon; this time, Ronon grabbed his forearm. Ronon's hand slid along his friend's sweat covered arm until he could grab onto his wrist; thankful Sheppard was wearing the leather cuff that he had given him. The narrow braided trim along the edges of the wide cuff gave Ronon just enough traction to a good grip.

Ronon stared at Sheppard, "Let go of the bush; I've got you."

Without hesitation, Sheppard did as Ronon instructed. Ronon yelled at the guide, "I've got him, pull us up."

The guide yelled for the men to pull and after what seemed like an eternity to Sheppard, he felt Ronon's arms across his chest pulling him onto the trail, then other arms pulling him away from Ronon, so that the big man could get up.

The guide knelt beside Sheppard, "You gave us a scare man, are you okay?"

Sheppard was attempting to get his breath, while trying to slow his heartbeat, "Yeah I think so…think I yanked every muscle in my back and shoulders out of place."

"Looks like you also messed up this wound…blood's seeping out from this bandage."

Looking down at the bandage on his left forearm, Sheppard groaned, "Carson's going to kill me."

The guide was reaching for his radio, "I'm calling for a med-evac to get you out of here."

"No…no, I'm fine; I can walk out."

The guide started to argue but Ronon intervened, "He can do this; I'll make sure of it."

"Okay…no evac but I'm calling paramedics to meet us on the trail. They can help you with him." He looked around, "Where the hell did those kids go?" One of the hikers replied that the four young men had headed back up the trail. "Looks like I need to contact the Park Police as well."

Ronon hunkered down next to Sheppard, "You sure you can do this?" A steely glare from Sheppard caused Ronon to laugh, "Yeah that's what I thought." Gently, he helped his friend to his feet.

The guide still looked skeptical but said, "Okay, notified everyone. Hikers we need to get back, base just told me that those clouds gathering to the west are going to turn into some nasty storms later, I want everyone safe where you belong by then. So let's go."

Ronon stood behind Sheppard and grabbed him by the belt, "I'm not letting go until we reach the top," and with a gentle nudge, they headed toward the rim.

~ooOoo~

"Oh thank goodness, we're here." McKay gingerly dismounted his bike, took off his helmet, safety vest, and turned them over to one of the bike tour people. "I am never going to do that again."

Carson followed suit, and they walked passed the stone archway with the Hermit's Rest sign on it and headed up the paved pathway to the gray stone building. Carson was pointing out the tall stone tower on top of the building when sirens cut through the late afternoon quiet. A Grand Canyon Park Rescue Unit passed them heading for the parking lot to the west of the structure.

"Someone must have gotten hurt on one of the trails," Carson observed.

McKay appeared pensive, "You don't think it's Sheppard or Ronon, do you?"

"Of course not, laddie, I'm sure they're fine. Let's go inside; I want to wash my face and get something cold to drink. John said they'd probably be about a half-hour or so behind us."

As they entered Hermit's Rest, three additional Park Police units arrived as well. As he crossed the threshold, McKay glanced once more toward the parking lot, his face reflecting concern.

Fifteen minutes later, Beckett and McKay exited the snack bar, eating ice cream bars. When he realized that the emergency vehicles were still in the parking lot, Beckett told Rodney, "I think I'll go check out what's happened; they might need a doctor."

"Can't be too bad, don't they airlift people out that are really injured?"

As they approached the trailhead, Park police officers emerged onto the trailhead with four young men in custody. Beckett walked over to an EMT who was waiting by the ambulance, leaving McKay by the railing next to the rim. The expression on Beckett's face when he returned told the suspicious scientist everything.

"Damnit, it is one of them, isn't it? I knew it...I knew it. Who's hurt Carson?"

Beckett blew out a deep breath, "Who do you think?" When McKay's face paled, he quickly added, "No…don't worry, he's not hurt badly, just some muscle strain and apparently he tore the stitches in his arm."

"What the hell happened?"

"Remember those boys we saw with the police?" McKay nodded, and Beckett continued,

"Well, the EMT said that they were hiking down the trail, when they came on John's group coming up. They were supposed to give the uphill hikers the right of way but decided they didn't want to; pushed their way past and knocked a girl over. John kept her from going over the edge but lost his balance."

"He fell over the fucking edge of the trail?"

"Rodney, calm down; he grabbed a bush and held on until Ronon could pull him up. He's walking up on his own, he's gonna be fine."

"Honestly, Carson; we need to wrap him in bubble wrap or something,"

Beckett chucked, patting McKay on the back, "That's actually not a bad idea for all of you. Relax, John's gonna be fine, EMT said they should be on the rim in about ten minutes."

McKay paced for most of the ten minutes, while Beckett waited near the trailhead. As soon as he spotted Sheppard, he yelled to Rodney, "They're here."

The two paramedics were flanking him with Ronon close, but Sheppard was walking on his own. When he spotted Beckett, he grimaced, "You're going to yell at me aren't you?"

Beckett shook his head, "No, laddie I'm not; we're just thankful you walked out of there on your own."

One of the paramedics asked, "You the doc that the colonel told us about?" When Beckett nodded, he continued, "Let's get him to the ambulance, and you can look him over. I think he's just banged up and gonna have some sore muscles, but that wound's gonna need attention."

"Sound like a plan; Rodney you stay with Ronon." Beckett started toward the ambulance but turned toward Ronon, "I heard you saved his life…again. He's lucky to have you around, and so are we."

Ronon and the guide spoke with the park police, then Ronon joined Rodney, who was waiting outside the ambulance. "He's okay?"

Rodney nodded, "Yeah I think so…I…Ronon…you…."

Ronon stared intently at Rodney, "No need..."

While they waited, the young woman, who Sheppard saved, along with the male hiker who had been in the rear of the group, approached the ambulance, and spoke to Sheppard.

"That the girl he saved?" Ronon grunted yes, and McKay added, "Nice of her to check on him."

Beckett hopped out of the ambulance a few minutes later, helping Sheppard out, "We can go back to the hotel. I'll take care of that arm when we get there. Does anyone know when the next shuttle runs?"

Ronon shook his head, "We've got a ride, the Park Police said they'd take us back to the hotel." Ronon motioned for them to follow, and they got into a police SUV cruiser for the journey back to El Tovar.

~ooOoo~

The room was dark with intermittent flashes of light that apparently had awakened him. Sheppard struggled for a few minutes before he realized that the rumbling in his head was actually thunder. Mentally he took stock of his situation; he was in the hotel and he was lying in bed, naked. Vaguely, he remembered returning to his room, taking a hot shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and Carson working on his arm, then darkness. Stretching out his limbs, he felt a twinge of soreness but realized that the grogginess and slight feeling of euphoria were the result of the injection of pain medication Beckett had given him. As he slowly became lucid, he decided he was hungry.

Throwing the covers off, he sat up, a bit gingerly, wondering how much he would be hurting if he hadn't had the pain meds. He was hurting enough. Easing out of bed, he stumbled over the towel he'd discarded, and padded to the bathroom, not needing to turn on the light due to the lightning flashing through the window. He washed his hands and then his face, and headed back to the bed. His cell phone was lying on the bedside table, blinking; he had a message.

"John, it's Carson. When you wake-up, laddie, if you feel like joining us, we're on the terrace. Ordered dinner for you; there's a turkey club on the table. Call when you wake up."

Looking over at the table, he spotted a tray and quickly crossed the room. After taking about three large bites of his sandwich, he rummaged for a clean pair of jeans. As he slipped them on, he called Carson.

"Hey, doc, you still downstairs?"

"We are; if you're up to it, come join us. Mother Nature is putting on some kind of light show."

"Yeah, I can tell from here; be right down."

"Need some help?"

"No, I'm okay. Oh, and thanks for the sandwich, I was starving."

Sheppard ate while he threw on a t-shirt and a hoodie, and slipped on his Salomon sneakers. Grabbing his room key, he headed downstairs.

He heard his friends before he spotted them; Beckett and McKay were bickering about something. They were sitting in chairs under the covered section of the terrace facing the canyon. McKay's arms flailing as he made a point, Beckett's arms folded across his chest; Ronon appeared asleep, but Sheppard knew better. Stealthy, he crept up on his friends, and whispered, "McKay, what the hell are you bitching about?

Nearly leaping out of his chair, McKay blustered, "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Beckett snorted, "He's pissed off that we don't agree with him that Canada is better than the US or Scotland."

"Rodney, stop playing the martyr…Canada's a fine place, but it's not better."

Ronon grumbled, "I liked Scotland; it's rugged."

Sputtering, Rodney whined, "When have you been in Scotland…" He stopped abruptly, they had all been in Scotland for Beckett's funeral…he had forgotten. "Uh…I'm..,"

Sheppard eased into a chair situated between Beckett and Ronon, "Enough Rodney; we don't need to rehash all that."

Rodney took a deep breath, "How you feeling, John?"

"I'm okay, just a bit sore." Quickly changing the subject, Sheppard commented about the sky, "That lightning is amazing."

Beckett agreed, "I've never seen so many bolts of lightning at one time."

Storms were raging over the canyon; at times, it appeared as though a hundred streaks of lightning were hitting the far rim simultaneously. The spectacle unfolding before them was breathtaking.

"I love fireworks, and no one does fireworks better than Mother Nature." Sheppard sighed, "Amazing."

Ronon spoke, "I've been on a plan…uh…somewhere that the sky was like this most of the time. Didn't stay there long."

McKay replied, "Well, I don't want to go there."

They fell quiet, watching the lightning and listening to the constant roar of thunder for several minutes without speaking. Sheppard broke the silence. "I don't know about you guys but I'm ready to leave here, time to get back to civilization."

Rodney chirped, "San Francisco?"

Sheppard chuckled, "Nope, I'm thinking Tucson Arizona."

Rodney groaned.