Secret Falls and Mission Reports
If there was one thing Sheppard was, it was experienced. He hadn't gotten his job for his looks. Well, he didn't think it was purely because of them. Maybe just a bit. In any case though, he had the background required to get the job done and get it done right.
That didn't mean that on occasion, he didn't slip up like most people did. He was just as ordinary as them and just as human. Usually when it mattered, he was there, alert and ready for the situation and he didn't make mistakes. But sometimes, like now, that precision fell though. He couldn't be held to such high standards all the time. He had to be human sometimes.
He fell nearly halfway down the hill before he managed to curl up in just the right way to muffle the tremors going through his body as he rolled to the bottom. Unprepared for the journey down the hill, he had yelled out rather girlishly when he tripped. It was a good thing that Elizabeth, McKay and the others weren't around; he'd never hear the end of it.
A couple more tumbles and he was at the bottom. The soft grass of the field helped to block some of the damage but not all. He would be covered in bruises tomorrow. His back would ache too. He had landed on a tiny stone that dug into his spine and coloured it black and blue.
Laying there, he caught his breath. "Well, crap." He stayed there a moment longer. Regrouped. Studied the top of the hill and wondered if anyone had seen him trip and fall on his behind. No one was there to offer him their concern or jab at his very human mistake. That was something, at least.
Grimly, he shifted and propped himself up using his elbows as supports. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his back. He ignored it and sat the whole way up.
Still, no one yelled to him or laughed. Good. That was the only good thing that had happened today. Then,
"John? What are you doing?"
Wait, what? He glanced up. He'd not seen nor heard Elizabeth approach. How had she gotten there? Had she seen him fall? "Taking in the sights," he said sarcastically.
"I'm not sure you'll see much at the bottom of that hill," she replied with a laugh. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he said. Under his breath he murmured, "Nothing a little drink won't fix." Alcohol sounded like an amazing idea. Of course then, he might end up falling down another hill or tripping into a hole or something crazy like that. But at least he'd have an excuse.
He made his way up the hill to her, using the tree roots firmly implanted into the ground to help him up.
"You've got a few scratches on you," Elizabeth said when he got there. Reaching out a hand, she gently touched his face. Her fingertips trailed lightly over his sore flesh. "Hopefully it won't bruise."
"It's fine," he insisted. "I've had worse."
"I know you have," she said, but she continued to look at him with the same expression. Concern, he figured it was. Although there was something more in her eyes too. He just couldn't figure out what it was.
"Let's get you to the infirmary and I'll get you a bandaid or two." Without waiting for his response, she started walking, and feeling obligated to follow her, he sighed heavily, glanced around and then chased after her.
In the infirmary, he watched Elizabeth chat quietly with Carson and then retrieve some supplies out of a drawer. Her expression was very matter-of-fact when she walked to join him once more.
He let his legs sway forward and back beneath the bed he sat on, then forward again and back, forward and back. "It's just a scratch," he insisted. "I'm fine."
In actuality, it hurt a lot. A hell of a lot, but he didn't want her to know that. It was a foolish accident and he wanted to keep his pain to himself like any other adult human being would do. She seemed adamant in her belief that he needed to be fixed up though so he reluctantly let her go about and mother him.
He jolted away from her and nearly swore when she dabbed the worst of the scratches with antiseptic.
"Sorry," she said, stifling a smirk.
"You find my pain funny, do you?"
"No. No, of course not. That's why I'm trying to help you." She smiled.
Rolling his eyes, he sat still again and watched her finish cleaning the wound with a sour expression on his face. She applied a bandaid and patted him on the arm. "You're all set," she said.
"Great. I'm out of here," he said and he hurriedly stood up. He was nearly at the door when Elizabeth gently touched his shoulder and corrected him.
"Not quite, Colonel. I have a favour to ask first." There was a wicked glint in her eye. It made him wonder just what she was up to.
"Oh?"
"You remember the mission to Plethon?" she asked.
Groaning, he shook his head. "No. Please no. Elizabeth, you said we didn't have to write that one up. There was a recording of the mission, for god's sake."
"I know. And I'm sorry, John. But I was foolish to let you off on writing it. The documentation has been requested for our next transmission with Earth though and that will be tomorrow in the am."
"Send them the recording," he said.
"I already have. They want your thoughts on the mission, John. McKay is already working on his report and I hope to see yours on my desk by eight tonight."
"But, Elizabeth."
"I could instead just tell everyone that you fell down a hill," she said casually.
"No. I… what? Why would you do that?"
"Because I know you. And you don't want people knowing you tripped." She smiled and waited for his answer.
"Fine," he said with a sigh. "But only because you're an evil, evil person and you blackmailed me. I wonder what they'd all think of you if they knew you did that."
"I wonder what they'd think about you if they knew the lengths I have to go to, to get you to write up your mission reports sometimes," she threw back easily.
"Touché."
Elizabeth smiled, rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment and then left him in the hallway. A technician moved past him as he contemplated her request and the way she went about it. Elizabeth's passion and ability to coax people into bending to her will were things that he admired about her. She was one of the strongest people he knew.
And even if she used her powers for evil, making him write that mission report, he would be very glad to call her his friend and boss. Atlantis wouldn't be the same without her strength, her caring nature, her fierce determination to get the job done and her ability to mess with his head.
Fin.
