Team Sheppard

He had spent the day shopping for the souvenirs on Inara's list. He didn't do too badly, if he said so himself. With the day's mission a success he decided to head back to the Bellagio.

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The bright lights of the Vegas strip and all the noises that went with it washed over him in a way that he was sure he was immune to. The lack of response inside to the beauty of many of the sights told him just how disconnected to this world he had become in the last 2 and a half years. He supposed that was why he chose Earth as his destination for this retreat vacation; deep down he had always known what Elizabeth had finally figured out in the last few days: John Sheppard's world has narrowed to Atlantis and the Pegasus galaxy, and the major reason he was there in the first place had been lost somewhere along the way. They had a term for it in the military. Target Fixation.

Target Fixation. The last time he had realized he was suffering from the affliction was shortly after Teyla and Ronon had gone missing and were presumed dead. He had nearly gotten half his team killed because of it then, and now he had put the entirity of Atlantis at risk because he was curious about these new people they had found. What he couldn't tell, was if his fixation was on Inara, or on trying to so desperately to make a permanent home for once in his life. Hell, he couldn't even figure out if it was merely the fact that the Milky Way had been shunted to the back burner for most of the Expedition, only though of when something directly threatened Earth or mankind.

What he did know, was that he needed a reality check, and fast. He really didn't want to have to relive handing in his resignation, or worse, be fired from the one assignment he actually wanted. Maybe his brother.......no. He wasn't going to go down that road. Those bridges had burned a long time ago, and he would not go slinking back to his brother on the heels of whatever military discharge followed whatever his last fatal command decision would be. With a sigh, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and gazed at his surroudings, seeing everything and nothing all at once.

He had opted not to check out a firearm from the SGC, figuring that it would be hard to take a break from the whole military thing with a gun strapped to his hip. But he couldn't shut off the tactical part of his mind, and so, he was aware of the mugger over there waiting for a mark more distracted than him, he was aware of the undercover cop across the street trying to catch someone in the act of being naughty; he saw the bulge of a weapon under that pimp's jacket, and he heard the threatening growl of a pusher trying to intimidate his buyer down a random alley.

He was trying to pick a place to drop that promised hundred bucks, and found himself drawn to the sound of water cascading into a pool; it was an odd sound to pick out of the noise and bustle of commerce and tourism, but it just emphasized John's state of mind and how much he missed the sound of the ocean at night. He stopped in front of the Bellagio lake, taking in the fountains and the building that rose behind them. He was struck by a sudden longing to return to the SGC and demand that his vacation request be rescinded so he could go home.

To Atlantis.

...The Bellagio.

Close enough...



...to be continued...

After his conversation with Elizabeth, John headed back to his office and put things in order there. He left detailed notes on everything, so Lorne - whom he assumed would be in charge while John was away - could find his way around. Once all his work responsibilities were taken care of, he headed to his quarters to pack.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" McKay asked, as he sauntered into the room several minutes later. The scientist eyed Sheppard the way one would eye a feral beast ready to strike.

"Going on vacation," John replied, matter-of-factly.

"Ah...wait, hold it," McKay began, pausing in his retreat. "Since when do you go on vacation?"

"Since Elizabeth made me." John's tone brooked no argument.

"Right," McKay said with a nod, apparently understanding that John didn't want to talk about it just yet. "Well, I suppose asking if you wanted to grab some lunch is out of the question, then?"

"Yeah, pretty much," John replied. He gave McKay a weary look. "I'm sorry, Rodney, it's just." He sighed. "Look, I'll take a raincheck, okay? You'll be the first person I have lunch with when I get back, deal?"

McKay thought about it for a moment. "Deal. I'm gonna hold you to that, you know," he promised, heading out the door to find someone else to nosh with.

John watched as the door closed behind his friend. "Yeah, I'm sure you will," he said to the empty room, with a wry grin.

He turned his attention back to packing, pondering where he might go for two weeks...

[ooc: this takes place shortly after "Sunday". For our purposes the role of Doctor Jennifer Keller will be played by Jessica Alba, and not Jewel Staite, because frankly, it's less head-hurty that way.]

John trudged down the hallways, trying to scrub the images burned into his visit to the infirmary just now. Carson was in somewhat stable condition and Teyla was sleeping peacefully. The new doctor, Jennifer Keller, was monitoring both of them, as well as taking care of the rest of the aftermath of recent events. While John was thankful that Carson managed to clear much of the blast, the poor Marine on the bomb-squad wasn't so lucky. The Colonel had yet another letter to write to another family, explaining without somehow managing to breach security clearance that their father-brother-husband-son had been killed in the line of duty.

He hated this part of his job and wished like hell that Elizabeth would do it. She had, during that first year, but only because he was too busy scouting out Alpha Sites and doing Recon missions to prep for the arrival of the Wraith. Since then, it had fallen to him, another pile of paperwork to go with all the beauracratic red-tape dodging that came with the job. Hence, the trudging, and the semi-shuffling of his feet as he made his way back to his room, hand trailing absently along a wall here or there, eyes unseeing as he passed friends and collegues. Everyone had been through the same torment and trauma as he had, and it showed. Repair teams were busy fixing both hallways, the Science Department was down closing off the room with the tumour-making machine so no one else would make the mistake of going in there and messing with things. Rodney said that the schematics were in the database, so they'd study the thing inside and out and find a way to dismantle it.

And outside of all that, life went on within the city. John had a feeling that Doctor Heightmeyer would be incredibly busy in the coming weeks, as folks began to deal with the on-set of post-traumatic stress. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth ordered him to do the same, so he had booked an appontment for early next week. No harm in being pro-active, after all. And it may just put him in Elizabeth's good graces for a while to come.

He stepped into his room and fell backwards onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of his uniform. Everything was still set up as he and Ronon had left it, and gosh that had seemed like years ago...

Sigh.

[continued from here]

He had just finished telling Sharra about the Ancients, and how incongruous it was for the images on the walls to look like them. As far as they knew, the Ancients were only Pegasus-Milky Way denizens, but he had to admit that the presence of a 'Gate on Haven did speak to the fact that the Ancients had to have been around, even for a little while.

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(to be continued)

[We uh...we kinda broke the customized comment pages comment buffer. And I like having the custom comment pages because they look better. So, um, yes. Continued from here.]


He's beaming at her until she catches the slight slip of the tongue and the smile turns into an 'aw shucks/so busted look'.

Oops.

He can't lie to her now. It was easy to pretend when she had first arrived, since she had no reason to believe otherwise, and he was nervous enough that his body language masked the lie.

But now..."You, uh. You weren't supposed to find out until I took you back there. To uh...to check on the status of the paint drying."



She may or may not be suppressing a giggle; since she does it successfully it's hard to tell. But she is grinning. "Well, since you've managed to keep me out of your room, the surprise is still intact, even if the knowledge that there is a surprise isn't."

And he's being adorable again. Although, really, he's almost always adorable now, so it sort of goes without saying. So she smiles softly, brilliantly.



"Well, I hope it doesn't lose too much of its impact, now that you know there's another surprise," he says, grinning sheepishly.

And that's about the time when the music being played turns into a fair rendition of the song they first danced to. It's also when he stands and moves to her side of the table.

"May I have this dance?" he asks, holding a hand out to her.



"I can't imagine it..." Oh. Oh. "... would."

Oh.

So she stands and takes his hand, because the answer is "Of course." but it comes out in barely a whisper between smiles and shy blushing. She was way more poised when they first danced.

And then again, when they first danced, she had no idea with whom she was dancing, or what it would turn into. Knowing, now, she wonders what it will turn into this time. If she could possibly love him any more than she does at this moment, as she keeps her eyes on his and she smiles, blissfully happy.



He returns the smile as his fingers close round hers, and he tugs her away from the table. She may or may not notice Lorne call someone over so they can remove the chairs, along with the table and its contents so the couple can have the entire balcony to move around. And that marks the end of Lorne's part in tonight's festivities.

John's eyes never leave Inara's as he pulls her into the opening steps of the dance, holding her slightly closer than he had the first time.

The buzzing of his radio broke through the fog of sleep, and he instinctively gave Inara a gentle squeeze as he buried his head in her shoulder, trying to drown out the sound. He wasn't supposed to be given a wake-up call until about 11am, and seeing as how he was on Atlantis, there was no way this could be McKay, and therefore meant that Weir had something urgent she needed him for.

That, or else she just wanted to screw with him, but that was unlikely. ...Right?

Making sure that Inara wasn't disturbed by any of this, he reached behind him to grope for his headset. He clicked it on and offered a very sleepy sounding "Sheppard".

"I'm sorry, John. I know I promised you your next mission wouldn't be until this afternoon, but we have an urgent request that supercedes your standing orders and all missions."

"I'll be right there, Sheppard out."

Sigh.

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[After this, but before this...]

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They found him slouched in a chair at their table in the mess hall, tray of food untouched. Actually, untouched was the wrong word. The food was being touched, sure. As his fork was pushing it around the plate absently.

"What a waste of perfectly good food," McKay said by way of greeting as the trio sat down around him. "What's with you?"

"You look like you just lost your best friend," Ronon added.

Teyla remained silent. She had seen the look on his face before, and she knew what it meant to a certain extent. She knew cajoling him would not be the answer to coaxing him out of his funk. She smiled softly at the quiet gratitude in his expression as his eyes darted up to meet hers at her continued silence.

"Perhaps," she said, mostly to the other two than to him, "we should mind our own business. You recalled the last time you tried to engage John in conversation when he was not in the mood to talk." This last was said with a pointed look at McKay.

McKay winced. "I ended up on every detestable mission this side of Pegasus," the astrophysicist stated ruefully. "As well as earned a three week vacation at the Caveman and Warrior Princess Resort; Combat training all day every day. See brochure for details and booking information."

Teyla was pleased to see the tiny twitch in the corner of Sheppard's mouth at McKay's words. She turned to Ronon with an uplifted brow. "And you?"

Ronon grinned, ripping into a piece of bread. "He made everyone force me to play golf during our last base-wide day off."

Teyla nodded sagely. "So, I hope you have both learned your lessons. When he is ready to speak to you, he will."

They all tucked into their dinners then, while Sheppard continued to push his food around the plate absently. "And even after all that," he said fifteen minutes later, as everyone was reaching the half-way point of their hitherto silent meal. Well, half0way for Ronon and Teyla. Rodney was already tucking into dessert. "You still suck at golf." He only spoke to see the collective reaction of stunned silence and mid-motion stops, really. It amused him.

McKay peered at him suspiciously, opening his mouth as if to say something in reply, but then thinking better of it and asking instead, "Are you going to eat that anytime soon?"

Sheppard dropped the fork onto the tray with a sigh and pushed it over to McKay. "No." He had half a mind to get up and leave them to the rest of their meal, but he didn't. Instead, he folded his hands across his stomach and got comfortable.

"Oh, good," McKay said, pulling the tray closer. "They were all out of this when we got to the line-up and I was really looking forward to it..."

Sheppard smiled sadly, taking in the team as they resumed eating, this time the usual chatter and conversation starting up. He didn't join in, but he knew they were still including him in the talk. It was as much a collective declaration of support and friendship as it was an effort to ignore his bad mood.

He had his friends, his family. That was all that mattered. He would deal with the rest of it some other time.