Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: John Sheppard, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, Rodney McKay
Word Count: 944
Warning: Implied suicidal thoughts and actions
Summary: John’s not suicidal. No, really he’s not.
Three months, two weeks, four days, and…five hours. John took another drink, then chucked the empty bottle off the pier. He heard the “whale” song again and sighed before reaching for another bottle. The low grunt to the side had him pitching a bottle behind him that his watcher of the day caught easily. He gave up trying to order them away about a month ago. He figured Lorne was under orders higher than his and he just wasn’t willing to fight it any more.
A lot of things didn’t seem worth fighting for but the powers that be just didn’t understand that he had made a promise. He wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Well, nothing more stupid. And, ok so flying that 302 at the Hive with the naquadah enhanced nuke wasn’t exactly the best option but let’s just be clear that he wasn’t suicidal. He’s gone up against enough darts to know exactly how to evade their weapons and he would have had plenty of time to get away before the nuke detonated. All they did by beaming him out was cost themselves a perfectly functional 302. Hardly his fault.
He twisted off the cap of the beer and tossed it. Restricted from gate travel. Restricted from flying. Temporarily restricted to patrolled zones of the city. So, maybe disobeying O’Neill’s orders wasn’t the brightest move. Maybe he could have taken a moment to explain his tactics in advance. Shoot, O’Neill pulled crazier moves than that in his day if the stories Rod…, if the stories people told were true.
Footsteps approached before stopping behind him. He took another drink of beer and embraced the silence. Ha. Silence. All he had known was silence for three months, two weeks, four days, and…huh, five and three quarters hours. Silence was highly overrated.
With a slight groan a body was stiffly lowered next to him at the rail. “Good fishing out here?” O’Neill asked. John just reached over and handed him two beers. At the continued silence Jack passed one beer to Daniel’s waiting hand. John bet O’Neill had never had to deal with the silence. There were stories about that too. Even ascended Daniel Jackson had repeatedly intruded in his team’s lives.
He took another drink and smiled slightly as the almost whales started to sing again. At least they knew how to fill up the silence. “People wouldn’t be so worried about you if you would just communicate a little more. I’m hardly the one to say it but if something doesn’t change soon then the docs are gonna insist on a leave of absence. That will mean paperwork and you know how I hate that.” O’Neill said with that false camaraderie people speak with when they are worried about your sanity but don’t want to push your buttons.
One of the whales broke water and splashed high enough to truly see it’s impressive size, right in front of the pier. Daniel Jackson quickly stood and backed up about five feet behind John. O’Neill held onto the pier with a white knuckled grip but stood his ground since neither John nor his shadow had moved from the edge. Three months, two weeks, four days, and six hours. Whale migration was right on time which is more than he could say for some people.
On the pier and surrounding balconies people had gathered to watch the bi-yearly event. They always passed by Atlantis on their path and it was magnificent. He watched as a second whale breached water and noted that Jackson had not approached the edge of the pier again and grinned.
There was a sudden commotion behind John of a bright flash of light that had everyone spinning away from the whales. John’s grin grew bigger as he reached over and moved his beer aside to reach for the last of the Canadian brew. Still seated he turned and found twelve inches in front of his face the most glorious bare ass he had ever seen. He hadn’t seen it in three months, two weeks, four days, six hours and eleven minutes.
“Seriously?!?” Rodney yelled up toward the sky.
“Rodney?” “McKay?” Daniel and Jack exclaimed almost simultaneously.
Rodney took the two steps toward Jackson and punched him in the face before jumping around shaking his hand, “Ow, ow, ow!”
“What the hell was that for McKay.” Jack quickly removed a cloth for Daniel to press to his bleeding nose.
“Twice those ascended bastards have tried to give him the procedure to recharge a ZedPM and twice he’s ‘forgotten’ it when he got back.” McKay started to rant. “I was so close and even a hint from him would have been all I needed and Mr Swiss Cheese couldn’t be bothered to remember.”
“You ascended?” Jackson asked.
“No, I just like suddenly appearing buck naked in front of the expedition.”
“McKay, you’re late.” John stated.
“I distinctly remember saying I would be here for the migration. There’s the migration.” Rodney pointed and took the open beer.
“So ZPM huh?” John smiled.
“Zelenka! Kusanagi! Get a move on. You can gawk at fish later.” He snapped his fingers and stalked across the pier toward the nearest transporter.
John just sat there watching that bare ass move away with a little grin on his face. “You might wanna stop for some clothes!” O’Neill called out to the retreating party and John frowned for a moment until Rodney shot O’Neill the bird. The splash of another whale breaching water behind them and the growing hum of the witnesses on the pier surrounded John with sound once more and he took another drink of his beer.