A link to the previous story is here .
Title: Home 2 (I'll think of something better when creativity strikes...)
Rating: I'd say PG for now.
Summary: Set about 2 years after season 3, about 8 months after my previous story "Home".
Spoilers: None really, but I'll post warnings in due course.
Notes: I'd really appreciate comments (:
John Sheppard hummed quietly to himself as he strolled through the corridors of Atlantis. After several minutes of blissful ignorance, his choice of music suddenly dawned on him and he stopped in his tracks.
“What am I singing?”
A voice unexpectedly replied from the corridor behind him. “I was about to ask you the same thing...twinkle, twinkle, little star, wasn’t it?”
John contemplated his musical taste momentarily as Carson Beckett caught up with him.
“You know, did anyone ever tell you you have a wonderful singing voice...?”
John rolled his eyes as both men began to walk together.
“As a matter of fact, they did...well, someone did...once...” He strained his eyes as though looking for some memory lost deep in the back of his mind. “I think they might have been drunk at the time, though...”
Carson sighed gently after smiling at a passing crewmate. “Anyway,” the Scotsman mused, interrupting John’s train of thought, “I was wondering if you’d had any thoughts about what we talked about before?”
Beside him, John ground to a halt.
“Carson, we talked about this...”
“Aye, I know...” The doctor quickly checked the corridor on either side of him before manoeuvring John closer to the wall and speaking in a far more hushed tone. “...but I’ve been thinking and it’d really mean a lot to me – to my whole family –”
“ –you were thinking that same thing yesterday,” John answered in an equally hushed, yet slightly more exasperated tone. "And the day before". The man in front of him subsequently threw his hands in the air.
“Fine then,” he exclaimed in defeat, walking back the way they had come. “Forgive me for offering! I’m sure you’ll figure everything out yourself...”
Carson was shouting back over his shoulder now, to the amusement and bewilderment of those around him and to the indulgence of John’s guilt. Sighing, he gave in.
“Carson,” he said after his friend, who stopped walking immediately and turned to face him. “We’ll see...”
The grin which erupted across Carson Beckett’s face as he ran back along the corridor to embrace John informed the Major that his words had been deliberately misinterpreted.
“Oh, I won’t let you down! ...” Carson beamed, “...you’ll see!”
After giving John a fairly rough pat on the face, he ran off.
“I’m sure I will...” John replied quietly before wandering off in the opposite direction to his selectively interpretive friend.
John smiled as Megan Weir looked up at him, grinning sweetly. The little girl had been sitting amongst what could only be described as the “no-man’s land” of a toy battlefield, but she quickly jumped up and ran to John as he fell within her line of vision. He pulled her up into his arms.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked her, feeing her nodding vigorously as she rested her head on his chest.
He turned to Katie Brown who had been fetching the girl’s coat.
“Thanks again, Katie. She wasn’t any trouble for you, was she?”
Dr Brown shook her head and smiled. “It was my pleasure. I hope Megan will be visiting again soon?”
Megan looked up and smiled, head still resting against John’s chest.
“What do you say to Doctor Brown?” John asked, giving her a gentle nudge. His plan not going exactly as anticipated, the child simply stared at him looking slightly perplexed.
“...Thank you...?” he prompted.
“Thank you very much and much!” Megan answered confidently after her prompt.
John smiled semi-triumphantly and they moved towards the exit of the arboretum.
Katie stopped at the door. “Oh, there was something.”
With Megan fiddling with a loose thread on his jacket, John listened intently.
“She seems to be developing a little cough — nothing at all to worry about,” she added quickly, obviously seeing the sudden panic in John’s features.
In the time he’d been fathering Megan, John Sheppard had admittedly become one of the most panicky fathers known to man. This was notorious throughout Atlantis. Everything from a temperature to an inflamed nostril set him off on a voyage of worry, generally ending in the infirmary.
In a recent four day period where Elizabeth was on an away mission, he and Megan had visited the infirmary a grand total of 18 times.
Nothing about it embarrassed him; he would be the first to admit he was cautious. What resulted from this supposedly good quality parenting bordering on obsessive, however, was the fact that during that four day period John had, himself, developed tonsillitis. In between whisking his daughter to the infirmary four to six times a day, the Major himself had neglected to inform anybody of the increasing pain in his throat or glands the size of tangerines in his neck. Hence, on Elizabeth’s return, despite John’s best efforts both he and Megan ended up in bed for a week with the virus.
Katie Brown was all too aware of this event in Atlantis’ history, and so gave John some reassurance.
“It’s probably just the sniffles – I’m sure she’ll tell you if she begins to feel unwell. She doesn’t even have a temperature, so don’t worry.”
After a moment of anxious debate, John said his goodbye and headed back to his quarters with Megan on tow, strongly resisting the urge to stop by the infirmary on his way.