First Flight - DW/SGA Crossover for rheanna27's Choose a Companion fest
Title: First Flight
Author: Penemuel (g_shadowslayer) with excerpts used with permission from an RP with doctorwho9
Fandoms: Doctor Who (Ninth Doctor)/Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4327 per MS Word
Author's Notes: This is based on an unfinished RP, started back when I had never even seen the series and the other writer had seen it once :) . I saw the challenge and thought it would be a perfect chance to finish it, since Real Life (TM) had jumped on my head and kept me from returning to the RP. Because John Sheppard loves flying so much, I can't imagine him wanting to visit anywhere else as his first trip with the Doctor.
Warning: Unbetaed due to lack of time. Spell-checked and sort-of grammar checked.
Written for: rheanna27's "The Doctor Who Multifandom 'Choose Your Own Companion' Ficathon"
First Flight
by Penemuel
John Sheppard's journal, Atlantis expedition.
Heightmeyer asked me, "If you could only carry one memory with you into the afterlife, which would you choose?"
I had to give it some thought, 'cause there are a thousand moments that it would hurt so much to lose: the way I felt the first time I flew solo; being able to touch and feel so much more than myself when I sat in the chair for the first time; the look of amazement and completely geeky happiness on Rodney's face when we realized the personal shield actually worked (and just what the hell had I been thinking, shooting my friend?!); the feel of Atlantis coming awake all around me, responding so easily to my every wish and command.
So many things I would want to remember -- the good, and the bad, because the bad helps keep things in perspective. After all, the rest of 'em may not blame me, but I'm enough of a realist to know that I'm responsible for waking the Wraith, for making enemies of the Genii, for a host of other things that keep me awake some nights until I can quiet my mind enough to hear the music of the city around me.
And yeah, sometimes, the music of the city would be the one memory I'd choose, if it came down to that. But then, I gotta be truthful. That's only because I want to avoid certain conflicts if the truth got out. Because I've been on the receiving end of what one could only call a fit of jealousy, and it really wasn't any kind of fun the first time around.
Because even the music of the city pales in comparison to what I saw when Chaya opened my mind to the Universe in all its glory, as seen through the perception of a true Ancient. Even with all of my ability, I'm just a pale imitation; a genetic throwback, and my mind isn't capable of seeing all of that on its own. But I know that's what I'd want to remember. It's like one of those dreams where you find the true meaning of life, and usually wakes up knowing it was just out of reach -- except that for that one instant you still remember it when you're awake...
Sheppard wasn't even aware of the stranger coming up behind him and reading until the man said, "Fantastic! A human with a sense for the big picture."
Startled, he jumped and spun to face the newcomer, hand twitching towards where his sidearm would be if it wasn't downtime and he wasn't wearing jeans and a t-shirt. "What the-- Who are you, and how did you get in here?" He studied the man -- he certainly looked like a man -- watching him for any evidence that he might be a Goa'uld or an Ancient. He obviously wasn't a Wraith, but beyond that, all bets were off.
"Me? I'm the Doctor. Atlantis, eh? Very pretty. And you are...?"
Sheppard raised an eyebrow and asked, "The Doctor?" and extended a hand to shake the Doctor's. "Major John Sheppard. And yeah, Atlantis... And she is pretty -- the Ancients had an eye for this kinda gothic art deco thing." He grinned, then, and added, "I like it. So... how'd you get in here -- the Gate alarms never went off..."
The Doctor gave him a bright grin and shook his hand, "Hello, Major John Sheppard. Ah yes, the aliens who built this place, millions of years before your lot climbed out of the caves and discovered fire, though you're not completely human yourself, are you?"
Sheppard's eyebrow quirked higher and he said, "Um... I think I'm pretty human -- I just happen to have the gene that lets me operate their tech."
The Doctor looked closer at Sheppard and answered, "It only takes one gene, you know. One gene changes an entire genetic makeup which alters the DNA strand enough to make it slightly alien, so there you go, lad, alien."
"Really? I... never thought of it that way, but-- So... How'd you get in here again?"
The Doctor wandered around, looking at everything, finally looked back at him and grinned. "Hrm? There's nowhere I'm not invited to...well, except the planet of the Slitheen, but the homeworld of a calcium-based lifeform really isn't the sort of place you'd build a holiday home, now is it?"
"Calcium-based? You don't say... Planet of dental health?"
"Planet of dental health..." the Doctor laughed, "...but no." With a vague wave of his hand, "It's over thataway. Horrible green planet, like mouldy cheese, gave rise to the old wives tale that the moon around your Earth was made of cheese, propaganda started by a bunch of bored aliens on an intergalactic tour, you know."
Sheppard wrinkled his nose. "Green planet like moldy cheese. Hopefully it's not on the gate network -- doesn't sound like a nice place to even visit... And those bored aliens wouldn't happen to be little naked grey guys, about so tall," he held out his hand to indicate, "big heads, big eyes, call themselves the Asgard? 'Cause from what I've read in the reports, I could see them doing that... Although that might just be because General O'Neill was the one who wrote the reports..."
The Doctor vaguely waved a hand. "Possibly, possibly. Not even I profess to know every single alien race in all the galaxies of time and space. Though near enough to every race. So what are you doing with old Atlantis, eh?"
Sheppard shrugged, "Exploring, learning, trying not to get ourselves killed or the city destroyed -- that kind of thing." Then he studied the Doctor again. There was something he vaguely remembered from one of the NID reports one of their computer geeks had hacked and distributed among the scientists. He'd seen a copy of it in Rodney's office and read through it one day while Rodney was waxing rhapsodic about something or other. He'd also thought it was insane then, but... "All the galaxies of time and space..." He frowned thoughtfully and studied his visitor "Did you say you were the Doctor?"
The Doctor flashed him a bright smile and answered, "Yeah, that's me, the Doctor."
"The Doctor. As in travels around in a big blue box that's larger on the inside than the outside? Companions and time travel and Time Lords and things?" He blinked. "I think I need to sit down..."
And then the Doctor flashed him a great big grin and nodded. "Yeah. The blue box is the TARDIS, yeah."
Sheppard stared for a long moment, then shook his head. "So. Um... Okay." He could feel this ridiculous grin starting to split his face, and tried to restrain himself from being completely geeky. He seemed to be failing miserably. "It really works?"
"'Course she does! Pick a time, pick a place."
Sheppard blinked. "You don't even really know me, but you're willing to let me travel wherever I want, whenever I want? What if I was some kind of crazy fool who thought he could change things for the better by killing someone in the past?"
The Doctor grinned. "Yes, I do. I read your file while walking past that woman who looks so stressed. She could do with a nice holiday on a beach somewhere. And if you were some crazy ape, well, then I'd have to kill you." He shrugged.
"Um... files don't always paint the most balanced picture. Just so you know." Then he tried very hard to keep from grinning, but only succeeded in looking like a schoolboy who knew he'd been bad. "That would be Dr. Weir -- she's in charge of the expedition, and it's been a little... Yeah, a vacation on the beach would be good for her." Then he paused and grinned, the possibilities finally beginning to settle in. "Anywhere and anywhen?"
"Yeah," the Doctor answered with a huge grin. "Anywhere, anywhen."
"Okay -- before I pick a time and place, let me bounce a little bit of theory off you?" Sheppard asked, hoping the Doctor wouldn't give him that same 'you're an idiot' stare that he knew Rodney would. "Suppose I made a monumental blunder, and wanted to try to go back and fix it. It wouldn't actually fix it, but split off another universe where I didn't make the mistake, right? My friends -- the ones I've been with this past year, as opposed to the ones who aren't quite the same because of the alternate universe thing -- would still be in this universe dealing with the events the way they were the first time. Or am I totally cracked?"
"Well, seeing as we're playing a nice little game of hypotheticals, your answer is not quite cracked. Perhaps you were meant to make the blunder in order to be where you are now. Perhaps if you fix the blunder, you'll throw all of spacetime out of whack for every galaxy, everywhere, everywhen. Time moves in waves and spirals, just because I can go back and fix things, doesn't necessarily mean I should. If someone's dead, they're usually dead because it's their time to be dead."
Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, I kinda figured that was the way it worked -- I don't want to make things any worse, believe me."
The Doctor studied him, seemingly aware that he felt very strongly about it. Then he asked, "So what's this blunder, then?"
Sheppard grimaced. Most of the people in the expedition didn't blame him, but he couldn't help thinking about all the people who had died because more Wraith were awake now than were ever meant to be. "I'm... uh... kinda responsible for the Wraith waking up a few hundred years before they were supposed to. And all of them, too, not just one or two groups at a time. I killed the one who kept an eye on all the sleepers, and apparently she was a big old life-sucking alarm clock..."
To Sheppard's surprise, the Doctor raised an eyebrow, and then with a huge grin, said, "Really? That's exciting. Well, my young human friend, it could just very well be that you were meant to do that, then, there. Setting things in motion, and being around to watch it all happen? Very exciting!"
He frowned. "I can think of lots of other words to use than 'exciting' but if you're thinking of the blood-pumping heart-pounding adrenaline rush of trying desperately to not get killed, yeah, I guess it's exciting..."
The Doctor patted his shoulder cheerfully and said, "Buck up - it could be much worse - you could be dead!"
Sheppard nodded. "Well, yes, that would be worse..."
"Or you could be stuck in some multi-dimensional transportal of chaos with a three headed lizard demon trying to suck out your innards with a straw. See? Everything has a plus side."
Sheppard blinked at that, then shook his head. "Um... three-headed lizard demon. Yeah, I think I'll take a pass on that one. Thanks. So, anywhere in time, huh?" Truth be told, there were many things he knew he wanted to see, but one of them was on the very top of his list. He'd watched all the History Channel and Discovery Channel specials, he'd been to the exhibit at the Smithsonian, he was dying to see the real thing. "I'd, um... kinda like to see the first airplane flight, actually. Ours, I mean -- on Earth -- the Wright Brothers."
"Fantastic! I have no idea what that was like. Good choice. C'mon then."
He was already heading off towards the TARDIS and Sheppard had to jog to catch up. "Just like that? I can't just run off without... right. Time travel. Never mind the brainless flyboy." They walked through the corridors to one of the less-used storage areas, and there stood the blue police box, looking quite ordinary and not at all like a ship that could travel through all of time and space. Sheppard was completely overcome by geekish glee. "That's it? That's... really cool!"
The Doctor smiled and unlocked the door, then gestured, "After you."
Sheppard looked in, then ducked back outside for an instant to confirm that he wasn't seeing things. Then he stepped all the way in and looked around, completely awed by the size of the control room. "Okay, this? Is really cool!"
The Doctor strolled in and closed the door, then walked to the console. As he pressed buttons, turned dials, and punched keypads, he answered, "Yes, she is. Now. Don't touch that, or that, or, actually, don't touch anything. Because I don't want to end up having to fight our way out of a white hole or similar, all right?" Then he gave Sheppard another huge grin and gleefully said, "Hold on tight."
The TARDIS whiz-whirred and Sheppard raised an eyebrow at the sound as it dematerialized. "Um... yeah. White hole's really not a good idea. No DHD for those..."
The Doctor grinned at him, still fiddling with controls. "Very exciting! But not so great on the hearts."
The TARDIS chose that moment to shake and rumble a bit, and Sheppard breathed, "Whoa..."
The Doctor gently patted the console and said, "She's a good girl." Then he stumbled a little, and added, "Mostly."
Sheppard watched the Doctor fiddling with controls; thought I hope he knows what he's doing and this thing is in full working order... Rodney would kill for the chance to see this! He frowned and realized, No, Rodney would kill for a chance to take this apart and see what makes it tick... maybe not a good idea... Then he flailed a little and nearly fell, but managed to get his balance again. "Um... yeah. Is it supposed to be like this?"
The Doctor grabbed his arm and pulled him over to one of the organic pylons curving from the floor into the ceiling, and as he clung to it, said, "Hold on to her until you get your Time feet." He returned to the console and patted it happily, totally unphased by the bumpiness of their travel. "The TARDIS has withstood the hordes of Genghis Khan and scientists from a thousand different dimensions." With a small smirk, he added, "One of your lot isn't going to be able to find out her secrets or pull her apart."
Sheppard muttered, "You'd think after Gate-travel, I'd be more accustomed to this kind of thing..."
"Not at all similar. Besides, the Gates aren't sentient and the TARDIS is."
"Sentient? That's... even more cool!" Then he frowned and said, "The problem is that Rodney would try... How'd you know what I was thinking, anyway?"
"Try - fail. A nice circle, there." The Doctor rolled his eyes, then muttered, "Always questions with you lot." Louder, "Hm? Oh." He tapped his chest with one finger and grinned. "Alien!"
"Ah. Right. Alien. Silly me..."
The Doctor clapped his shoulder heartily and said, "Silly you, yeah," and then headed back to the console again. "Ah, we're getting close. Brace yourself for landing."
He gripped the pylon harder and braced himself. "Okay -- I'm ready. I hope."
The TARDIS rematerialized with a series of loud whiz-whirs, landing seemingly effortlessly from the outside, but quite bumpily on the inside. "And there we are. Wright brothers just outside the door."
With a bit of effort, Sheppard managed not to bite his tongue or crack his teeth together too hard, and mentally quoted, Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, with more than a little amusement. "That's a little bit of a bump, there. The TARDIS doesn't ever land on anyone, does it-- she?"
"Nup, not in nine hundred years, well, there was that one time, but it was an alien and a Very Bad Alien at that. So no," the Doctor answered with a grin.
Sheppard quirked an eyebrow at that, positive that there was a tale there that would be very entertaining to hear, some other day. Right now, the lure of history was too strong, and he was already halfway to the door. "Um... just so I don't mess this up and put myself out of a job, should we just hang back and watch, or d'you think interacting would be okay?"
"Interact, play, fly, do what you like. Just don't fiddle about with making babies and the Time Space will be fine," the Doctor answered. "Go on, history's waiting."
Sheppard grimaced and shook his head. "Oh no -- no babies -- definitely nothing to worry about there!" Then he opened the door and looked out at the vista before him. A small cluster of press people stood nearby, all of them excitedly chattering and preparing their cameras or scribbling feverishly in notepads. A short distance away, he saw it: the Wright Flyer, brand new and on the ground instead of suspended from the ceiling as it was in the Air and Space exhibit. He could walk right out and touch it...
Walking around the plane were two men, obviously making last minute checks and discussing the flight. He recognized them immediately: Orville and Wilbur Wright. The success these two men had started the very race that made his own job possible -- they had done so much more than just have the first successful powered flight. They had established the foundations of aeronautical engineering, and he had them to thank for his job on the Atlantis expedition -- and he was here, on December 17th, 1903, to watch them in person. It was humbling, and at the same time he was so excited he could barely think.
He glanced at his watch to check the time, and saw that it was nearly 10:30am -- just a little over five minutes before the first flight. He edged closer, careful not to get in view of any of the photographers, and watched excitedly as the two brothers finished their preparations, and Orville climbed aboard the Flyer, lying down and settling into the steering mechanism. Sheppard knew well in theory how it was supposed to work, a step up from hang gliders where the only method of steering was shifting of the pilot's weight. Instead, there was an amazingly complex -- for its time -- fly-by-wire mechanism that was operated by the hip cradle mounted on the lower wing, and that mechanism also operated the rudder. The pilot's hand operated the controls that determined elevation, and it was a far more complex (and obviously successful) design than the previous attempts, which had all relied on the older glider methods.
He realized the Doctor had come up behind him and was standing with him, grinning like a loon as they watched the brothers start their engine and get prepared -- and then the Wright Flyer was rolling forward, and lifting from the ground, successfully flying for a distance of 120 feet before it touched down again. Sheppard couldn't hold in his whoop of joy, but it didn't really matter, because the reporters and other onlookers burst out in cheers, too.
And then there was a lull in the action while the distance was officially measured and the plane was returned to its starting point for a second attempt. The skeptics, and Sheppard knew there would definitely be some, would want to see it happen again to prove it wasn't a fluke and that it was truly a powered flight. And, of course, Wilbur had to get a turn in the air, too.
"There you go -- the beginning of the world of flight. How's it feel?" the Doctor asked.
"Feels great!"
"You should go talk to them. Tell 'em you're a glider pilot and see what happens."
"Nah, the Flyer only has four flights, then it gets damaged by the wind. I don't want to take away one of their chances to fly it," Sheppard said, although every fiber in his being was quivering with the desire to do exactly that.
"Oh, go on -- as long as you don't take the fourth one, where's the harm?"
The second attempt went even further, approximately two-hundred feet, and this time, Sheppard couldn't stop himself. He was jogging down to congratulate them before he even realized he'd left the Doctor's side. "That was amazing!" he called when he was close enough.
Orville looked at Wilbur, obviously wondering if his brother knew who he was. Then he turned back to Sheppard and said, "Thank you. I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss--"
"Oh -- sorry! John Sheppard. I'm... a pilot. I just wanted to congratulate you, and to thank you for what you're doing here," Sheppard said. He grinned and shook Orville's hand, then helped Wilbur out of the Flyer and shook his hand, too.
"I thought we knew most of the pilots around," Wilbur said, studying Sheppard for a moment. "But I'm afraid your name doesn't sound familiar. You're not one of the reporters, are you?"
"What? Oh! No, definitely not -- I just... I've been away for a while. Came here today specifically to see this!"
"He's been off in Europe, you see," the Doctor added, and Sheppard glanced back at him in surprise. He was so focused on the Wrights and their plane that he hadn't even heard his approach. "Came back here just to see you fine gentlemen make history!"
"Oh, are you a pilot, too?" Orville asked, looking the Doctor over. He wasn't really sure what the man did, but he obviously wasn't one of the reporters.
"Me? Not as such. I'm the Doctor -- pleased to meet you, Mr. Wright. And you, Mr. Wright. Fantastic work you're doing here!"
Sheppard was looking at the Flyer with undisguised awe, when he felt the other three watching him. He blushed slightly and asked, "May I touch her?"
Wilbur glanced at Orville, who smiled. They could both tell Sheppard had to be a pilot instead of a reporter -- the way in which he studied the plane indicated he at least understood the basic mechanics of flight, and he wasn't barraging them with questions about what it felt like, or how they would have felt if it had failed. Instead, he acted as if he already knew what it felt like to have the wind beneath him as he soared. "Yes, you may. And then we need to prepare for the third flight."
"Thank you," Sheppard said, reaching out to reverently stroke the muslin casing of the wings. "Sheer genius," he said softly as he gently felt the structure sewn into the fabric. He knew from his own studies of the Flyer that it was the very flexibility that design gave it that allowed it to fly the way it did, and now, seeing it up close and really working, he could see just how simple but amazing an idea it was. "Do you need any help prepping for the next flight?"
Orville looked at Wilbur, then nodded. "Well, I guess that would be okay..."
Sheppard grinned like a fool and followed their directions happily while the Doctor faded back into the crowd of observers. The Time Lord laughed softly at the mutters he overheard about tales of the young glider pilot who flew over in Europe and who had taken the long journey by ship just to see this event. None of them wanted to be caught out as the one who had no idea who Sheppard was, so they took the story and ran with it. Luckily, the third flight distracted them from their speculations and then their attention was focused entirely on the Wrights once more.
The third flight was much like the second, approximately two hundred feet, and Sheppard didn't even notice the chilly air as they prepared the Flyer for her fourth flight. He was too excited by the prospect of watching her make that long flight that proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that powered flight was indeed a reality. As Wilbur settled into the pilot's cradle for his turn, Sheppard gave the wing one last awed touch. Then everyone stepped back, and the Flyer began to roll forward.
Sheppard watched, practically bouncing with excitement as the Flyer took off and flew -- and flew. Then he let out a whoop of joy, right along with Orville next to him, as almost a full minute later she landed over eight hundred feet from her takeoff point. "You did it!" he yelled, and hugged Orville before he even really realized what he was doing. "No one can say that wasn't real flight!"
Wilbur was climbing out of the Flyer, and Orville and the group of reporters headed over to talk with him, cameras flashing and questions already beginning to fly before they had even reached him. Sheppard started in that direction, then something made him hold back. He could feel the cold edge to the wind now, knew it was picking up and knew what was to come.
Instead of following them, he caught Wilbur's eye and waved, then gave him a thumbs-up gesture. And then he turned and walked back to the Doctor.
"What's wrong? Go ahead and congratulate them," the Doctor said, frowning as he studied Sheppard's face.
"No -- I don't trust myself to. The wind's picking up -- the Flyer gets tumbled down onto the sand and ends up too badly damaged to ever fly again. I don't know that I could keep myself from trying to stop it."
"Ahh. Smart lad. So, back into the TARDIS, then?"
"Yeah -- that... wow, that was amazing. That was..." he grinned. "Thank you, Doctor!"
They stepped back into the TARDIS, and while the reporters and the Wrights were busy discussing the longest flight of the day, they whiz-whirred back into the time stream. The Doctor smiled at Sheppard as he hung onto a pylon again, and asked him, "So, where to next?"
end
Author: Penemuel (g_shadowslayer) with excerpts used with permission from an RP with doctorwho9
Fandoms: Doctor Who (Ninth Doctor)/Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4327 per MS Word
Author's Notes: This is based on an unfinished RP, started back when I had never even seen the series and the other writer had seen it once :) . I saw the challenge and thought it would be a perfect chance to finish it, since Real Life (TM) had jumped on my head and kept me from returning to the RP. Because John Sheppard loves flying so much, I can't imagine him wanting to visit anywhere else as his first trip with the Doctor.
Warning: Unbetaed due to lack of time. Spell-checked and sort-of grammar checked.
Written for: rheanna27's "The Doctor Who Multifandom 'Choose Your Own Companion' Ficathon"
First Flight
by Penemuel
John Sheppard's journal, Atlantis expedition.
Heightmeyer asked me, "If you could only carry one memory with you into the afterlife, which would you choose?"
I had to give it some thought, 'cause there are a thousand moments that it would hurt so much to lose: the way I felt the first time I flew solo; being able to touch and feel so much more than myself when I sat in the chair for the first time; the look of amazement and completely geeky happiness on Rodney's face when we realized the personal shield actually worked (and just what the hell had I been thinking, shooting my friend?!); the feel of Atlantis coming awake all around me, responding so easily to my every wish and command.
So many things I would want to remember -- the good, and the bad, because the bad helps keep things in perspective. After all, the rest of 'em may not blame me, but I'm enough of a realist to know that I'm responsible for waking the Wraith, for making enemies of the Genii, for a host of other things that keep me awake some nights until I can quiet my mind enough to hear the music of the city around me.
And yeah, sometimes, the music of the city would be the one memory I'd choose, if it came down to that. But then, I gotta be truthful. That's only because I want to avoid certain conflicts if the truth got out. Because I've been on the receiving end of what one could only call a fit of jealousy, and it really wasn't any kind of fun the first time around.
Because even the music of the city pales in comparison to what I saw when Chaya opened my mind to the Universe in all its glory, as seen through the perception of a true Ancient. Even with all of my ability, I'm just a pale imitation; a genetic throwback, and my mind isn't capable of seeing all of that on its own. But I know that's what I'd want to remember. It's like one of those dreams where you find the true meaning of life, and usually wakes up knowing it was just out of reach -- except that for that one instant you still remember it when you're awake...
Sheppard wasn't even aware of the stranger coming up behind him and reading until the man said, "Fantastic! A human with a sense for the big picture."
Startled, he jumped and spun to face the newcomer, hand twitching towards where his sidearm would be if it wasn't downtime and he wasn't wearing jeans and a t-shirt. "What the-- Who are you, and how did you get in here?" He studied the man -- he certainly looked like a man -- watching him for any evidence that he might be a Goa'uld or an Ancient. He obviously wasn't a Wraith, but beyond that, all bets were off.
"Me? I'm the Doctor. Atlantis, eh? Very pretty. And you are...?"
Sheppard raised an eyebrow and asked, "The Doctor?" and extended a hand to shake the Doctor's. "Major John Sheppard. And yeah, Atlantis... And she is pretty -- the Ancients had an eye for this kinda gothic art deco thing." He grinned, then, and added, "I like it. So... how'd you get in here -- the Gate alarms never went off..."
The Doctor gave him a bright grin and shook his hand, "Hello, Major John Sheppard. Ah yes, the aliens who built this place, millions of years before your lot climbed out of the caves and discovered fire, though you're not completely human yourself, are you?"
Sheppard's eyebrow quirked higher and he said, "Um... I think I'm pretty human -- I just happen to have the gene that lets me operate their tech."
The Doctor looked closer at Sheppard and answered, "It only takes one gene, you know. One gene changes an entire genetic makeup which alters the DNA strand enough to make it slightly alien, so there you go, lad, alien."
"Really? I... never thought of it that way, but-- So... How'd you get in here again?"
The Doctor wandered around, looking at everything, finally looked back at him and grinned. "Hrm? There's nowhere I'm not invited to...well, except the planet of the Slitheen, but the homeworld of a calcium-based lifeform really isn't the sort of place you'd build a holiday home, now is it?"
"Calcium-based? You don't say... Planet of dental health?"
"Planet of dental health..." the Doctor laughed, "...but no." With a vague wave of his hand, "It's over thataway. Horrible green planet, like mouldy cheese, gave rise to the old wives tale that the moon around your Earth was made of cheese, propaganda started by a bunch of bored aliens on an intergalactic tour, you know."
Sheppard wrinkled his nose. "Green planet like moldy cheese. Hopefully it's not on the gate network -- doesn't sound like a nice place to even visit... And those bored aliens wouldn't happen to be little naked grey guys, about so tall," he held out his hand to indicate, "big heads, big eyes, call themselves the Asgard? 'Cause from what I've read in the reports, I could see them doing that... Although that might just be because General O'Neill was the one who wrote the reports..."
The Doctor vaguely waved a hand. "Possibly, possibly. Not even I profess to know every single alien race in all the galaxies of time and space. Though near enough to every race. So what are you doing with old Atlantis, eh?"
Sheppard shrugged, "Exploring, learning, trying not to get ourselves killed or the city destroyed -- that kind of thing." Then he studied the Doctor again. There was something he vaguely remembered from one of the NID reports one of their computer geeks had hacked and distributed among the scientists. He'd seen a copy of it in Rodney's office and read through it one day while Rodney was waxing rhapsodic about something or other. He'd also thought it was insane then, but... "All the galaxies of time and space..." He frowned thoughtfully and studied his visitor "Did you say you were the Doctor?"
The Doctor flashed him a bright smile and answered, "Yeah, that's me, the Doctor."
"The Doctor. As in travels around in a big blue box that's larger on the inside than the outside? Companions and time travel and Time Lords and things?" He blinked. "I think I need to sit down..."
And then the Doctor flashed him a great big grin and nodded. "Yeah. The blue box is the TARDIS, yeah."
Sheppard stared for a long moment, then shook his head. "So. Um... Okay." He could feel this ridiculous grin starting to split his face, and tried to restrain himself from being completely geeky. He seemed to be failing miserably. "It really works?"
"'Course she does! Pick a time, pick a place."
Sheppard blinked. "You don't even really know me, but you're willing to let me travel wherever I want, whenever I want? What if I was some kind of crazy fool who thought he could change things for the better by killing someone in the past?"
The Doctor grinned. "Yes, I do. I read your file while walking past that woman who looks so stressed. She could do with a nice holiday on a beach somewhere. And if you were some crazy ape, well, then I'd have to kill you." He shrugged.
"Um... files don't always paint the most balanced picture. Just so you know." Then he tried very hard to keep from grinning, but only succeeded in looking like a schoolboy who knew he'd been bad. "That would be Dr. Weir -- she's in charge of the expedition, and it's been a little... Yeah, a vacation on the beach would be good for her." Then he paused and grinned, the possibilities finally beginning to settle in. "Anywhere and anywhen?"
"Yeah," the Doctor answered with a huge grin. "Anywhere, anywhen."
"Okay -- before I pick a time and place, let me bounce a little bit of theory off you?" Sheppard asked, hoping the Doctor wouldn't give him that same 'you're an idiot' stare that he knew Rodney would. "Suppose I made a monumental blunder, and wanted to try to go back and fix it. It wouldn't actually fix it, but split off another universe where I didn't make the mistake, right? My friends -- the ones I've been with this past year, as opposed to the ones who aren't quite the same because of the alternate universe thing -- would still be in this universe dealing with the events the way they were the first time. Or am I totally cracked?"
"Well, seeing as we're playing a nice little game of hypotheticals, your answer is not quite cracked. Perhaps you were meant to make the blunder in order to be where you are now. Perhaps if you fix the blunder, you'll throw all of spacetime out of whack for every galaxy, everywhere, everywhen. Time moves in waves and spirals, just because I can go back and fix things, doesn't necessarily mean I should. If someone's dead, they're usually dead because it's their time to be dead."
Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, I kinda figured that was the way it worked -- I don't want to make things any worse, believe me."
The Doctor studied him, seemingly aware that he felt very strongly about it. Then he asked, "So what's this blunder, then?"
Sheppard grimaced. Most of the people in the expedition didn't blame him, but he couldn't help thinking about all the people who had died because more Wraith were awake now than were ever meant to be. "I'm... uh... kinda responsible for the Wraith waking up a few hundred years before they were supposed to. And all of them, too, not just one or two groups at a time. I killed the one who kept an eye on all the sleepers, and apparently she was a big old life-sucking alarm clock..."
To Sheppard's surprise, the Doctor raised an eyebrow, and then with a huge grin, said, "Really? That's exciting. Well, my young human friend, it could just very well be that you were meant to do that, then, there. Setting things in motion, and being around to watch it all happen? Very exciting!"
He frowned. "I can think of lots of other words to use than 'exciting' but if you're thinking of the blood-pumping heart-pounding adrenaline rush of trying desperately to not get killed, yeah, I guess it's exciting..."
The Doctor patted his shoulder cheerfully and said, "Buck up - it could be much worse - you could be dead!"
Sheppard nodded. "Well, yes, that would be worse..."
"Or you could be stuck in some multi-dimensional transportal of chaos with a three headed lizard demon trying to suck out your innards with a straw. See? Everything has a plus side."
Sheppard blinked at that, then shook his head. "Um... three-headed lizard demon. Yeah, I think I'll take a pass on that one. Thanks. So, anywhere in time, huh?" Truth be told, there were many things he knew he wanted to see, but one of them was on the very top of his list. He'd watched all the History Channel and Discovery Channel specials, he'd been to the exhibit at the Smithsonian, he was dying to see the real thing. "I'd, um... kinda like to see the first airplane flight, actually. Ours, I mean -- on Earth -- the Wright Brothers."
"Fantastic! I have no idea what that was like. Good choice. C'mon then."
He was already heading off towards the TARDIS and Sheppard had to jog to catch up. "Just like that? I can't just run off without... right. Time travel. Never mind the brainless flyboy." They walked through the corridors to one of the less-used storage areas, and there stood the blue police box, looking quite ordinary and not at all like a ship that could travel through all of time and space. Sheppard was completely overcome by geekish glee. "That's it? That's... really cool!"
The Doctor smiled and unlocked the door, then gestured, "After you."
Sheppard looked in, then ducked back outside for an instant to confirm that he wasn't seeing things. Then he stepped all the way in and looked around, completely awed by the size of the control room. "Okay, this? Is really cool!"
The Doctor strolled in and closed the door, then walked to the console. As he pressed buttons, turned dials, and punched keypads, he answered, "Yes, she is. Now. Don't touch that, or that, or, actually, don't touch anything. Because I don't want to end up having to fight our way out of a white hole or similar, all right?" Then he gave Sheppard another huge grin and gleefully said, "Hold on tight."
The TARDIS whiz-whirred and Sheppard raised an eyebrow at the sound as it dematerialized. "Um... yeah. White hole's really not a good idea. No DHD for those..."
The Doctor grinned at him, still fiddling with controls. "Very exciting! But not so great on the hearts."
The TARDIS chose that moment to shake and rumble a bit, and Sheppard breathed, "Whoa..."
The Doctor gently patted the console and said, "She's a good girl." Then he stumbled a little, and added, "Mostly."
Sheppard watched the Doctor fiddling with controls; thought I hope he knows what he's doing and this thing is in full working order... Rodney would kill for the chance to see this! He frowned and realized, No, Rodney would kill for a chance to take this apart and see what makes it tick... maybe not a good idea... Then he flailed a little and nearly fell, but managed to get his balance again. "Um... yeah. Is it supposed to be like this?"
The Doctor grabbed his arm and pulled him over to one of the organic pylons curving from the floor into the ceiling, and as he clung to it, said, "Hold on to her until you get your Time feet." He returned to the console and patted it happily, totally unphased by the bumpiness of their travel. "The TARDIS has withstood the hordes of Genghis Khan and scientists from a thousand different dimensions." With a small smirk, he added, "One of your lot isn't going to be able to find out her secrets or pull her apart."
Sheppard muttered, "You'd think after Gate-travel, I'd be more accustomed to this kind of thing..."
"Not at all similar. Besides, the Gates aren't sentient and the TARDIS is."
"Sentient? That's... even more cool!" Then he frowned and said, "The problem is that Rodney would try... How'd you know what I was thinking, anyway?"
"Try - fail. A nice circle, there." The Doctor rolled his eyes, then muttered, "Always questions with you lot." Louder, "Hm? Oh." He tapped his chest with one finger and grinned. "Alien!"
"Ah. Right. Alien. Silly me..."
The Doctor clapped his shoulder heartily and said, "Silly you, yeah," and then headed back to the console again. "Ah, we're getting close. Brace yourself for landing."
He gripped the pylon harder and braced himself. "Okay -- I'm ready. I hope."
The TARDIS rematerialized with a series of loud whiz-whirs, landing seemingly effortlessly from the outside, but quite bumpily on the inside. "And there we are. Wright brothers just outside the door."
With a bit of effort, Sheppard managed not to bite his tongue or crack his teeth together too hard, and mentally quoted, Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, with more than a little amusement. "That's a little bit of a bump, there. The TARDIS doesn't ever land on anyone, does it-- she?"
"Nup, not in nine hundred years, well, there was that one time, but it was an alien and a Very Bad Alien at that. So no," the Doctor answered with a grin.
Sheppard quirked an eyebrow at that, positive that there was a tale there that would be very entertaining to hear, some other day. Right now, the lure of history was too strong, and he was already halfway to the door. "Um... just so I don't mess this up and put myself out of a job, should we just hang back and watch, or d'you think interacting would be okay?"
"Interact, play, fly, do what you like. Just don't fiddle about with making babies and the Time Space will be fine," the Doctor answered. "Go on, history's waiting."
Sheppard grimaced and shook his head. "Oh no -- no babies -- definitely nothing to worry about there!" Then he opened the door and looked out at the vista before him. A small cluster of press people stood nearby, all of them excitedly chattering and preparing their cameras or scribbling feverishly in notepads. A short distance away, he saw it: the Wright Flyer, brand new and on the ground instead of suspended from the ceiling as it was in the Air and Space exhibit. He could walk right out and touch it...
Walking around the plane were two men, obviously making last minute checks and discussing the flight. He recognized them immediately: Orville and Wilbur Wright. The success these two men had started the very race that made his own job possible -- they had done so much more than just have the first successful powered flight. They had established the foundations of aeronautical engineering, and he had them to thank for his job on the Atlantis expedition -- and he was here, on December 17th, 1903, to watch them in person. It was humbling, and at the same time he was so excited he could barely think.
He glanced at his watch to check the time, and saw that it was nearly 10:30am -- just a little over five minutes before the first flight. He edged closer, careful not to get in view of any of the photographers, and watched excitedly as the two brothers finished their preparations, and Orville climbed aboard the Flyer, lying down and settling into the steering mechanism. Sheppard knew well in theory how it was supposed to work, a step up from hang gliders where the only method of steering was shifting of the pilot's weight. Instead, there was an amazingly complex -- for its time -- fly-by-wire mechanism that was operated by the hip cradle mounted on the lower wing, and that mechanism also operated the rudder. The pilot's hand operated the controls that determined elevation, and it was a far more complex (and obviously successful) design than the previous attempts, which had all relied on the older glider methods.
He realized the Doctor had come up behind him and was standing with him, grinning like a loon as they watched the brothers start their engine and get prepared -- and then the Wright Flyer was rolling forward, and lifting from the ground, successfully flying for a distance of 120 feet before it touched down again. Sheppard couldn't hold in his whoop of joy, but it didn't really matter, because the reporters and other onlookers burst out in cheers, too.
And then there was a lull in the action while the distance was officially measured and the plane was returned to its starting point for a second attempt. The skeptics, and Sheppard knew there would definitely be some, would want to see it happen again to prove it wasn't a fluke and that it was truly a powered flight. And, of course, Wilbur had to get a turn in the air, too.
"There you go -- the beginning of the world of flight. How's it feel?" the Doctor asked.
"Feels great!"
"You should go talk to them. Tell 'em you're a glider pilot and see what happens."
"Nah, the Flyer only has four flights, then it gets damaged by the wind. I don't want to take away one of their chances to fly it," Sheppard said, although every fiber in his being was quivering with the desire to do exactly that.
"Oh, go on -- as long as you don't take the fourth one, where's the harm?"
The second attempt went even further, approximately two-hundred feet, and this time, Sheppard couldn't stop himself. He was jogging down to congratulate them before he even realized he'd left the Doctor's side. "That was amazing!" he called when he was close enough.
Orville looked at Wilbur, obviously wondering if his brother knew who he was. Then he turned back to Sheppard and said, "Thank you. I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss--"
"Oh -- sorry! John Sheppard. I'm... a pilot. I just wanted to congratulate you, and to thank you for what you're doing here," Sheppard said. He grinned and shook Orville's hand, then helped Wilbur out of the Flyer and shook his hand, too.
"I thought we knew most of the pilots around," Wilbur said, studying Sheppard for a moment. "But I'm afraid your name doesn't sound familiar. You're not one of the reporters, are you?"
"What? Oh! No, definitely not -- I just... I've been away for a while. Came here today specifically to see this!"
"He's been off in Europe, you see," the Doctor added, and Sheppard glanced back at him in surprise. He was so focused on the Wrights and their plane that he hadn't even heard his approach. "Came back here just to see you fine gentlemen make history!"
"Oh, are you a pilot, too?" Orville asked, looking the Doctor over. He wasn't really sure what the man did, but he obviously wasn't one of the reporters.
"Me? Not as such. I'm the Doctor -- pleased to meet you, Mr. Wright. And you, Mr. Wright. Fantastic work you're doing here!"
Sheppard was looking at the Flyer with undisguised awe, when he felt the other three watching him. He blushed slightly and asked, "May I touch her?"
Wilbur glanced at Orville, who smiled. They could both tell Sheppard had to be a pilot instead of a reporter -- the way in which he studied the plane indicated he at least understood the basic mechanics of flight, and he wasn't barraging them with questions about what it felt like, or how they would have felt if it had failed. Instead, he acted as if he already knew what it felt like to have the wind beneath him as he soared. "Yes, you may. And then we need to prepare for the third flight."
"Thank you," Sheppard said, reaching out to reverently stroke the muslin casing of the wings. "Sheer genius," he said softly as he gently felt the structure sewn into the fabric. He knew from his own studies of the Flyer that it was the very flexibility that design gave it that allowed it to fly the way it did, and now, seeing it up close and really working, he could see just how simple but amazing an idea it was. "Do you need any help prepping for the next flight?"
Orville looked at Wilbur, then nodded. "Well, I guess that would be okay..."
Sheppard grinned like a fool and followed their directions happily while the Doctor faded back into the crowd of observers. The Time Lord laughed softly at the mutters he overheard about tales of the young glider pilot who flew over in Europe and who had taken the long journey by ship just to see this event. None of them wanted to be caught out as the one who had no idea who Sheppard was, so they took the story and ran with it. Luckily, the third flight distracted them from their speculations and then their attention was focused entirely on the Wrights once more.
The third flight was much like the second, approximately two hundred feet, and Sheppard didn't even notice the chilly air as they prepared the Flyer for her fourth flight. He was too excited by the prospect of watching her make that long flight that proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that powered flight was indeed a reality. As Wilbur settled into the pilot's cradle for his turn, Sheppard gave the wing one last awed touch. Then everyone stepped back, and the Flyer began to roll forward.
Sheppard watched, practically bouncing with excitement as the Flyer took off and flew -- and flew. Then he let out a whoop of joy, right along with Orville next to him, as almost a full minute later she landed over eight hundred feet from her takeoff point. "You did it!" he yelled, and hugged Orville before he even really realized what he was doing. "No one can say that wasn't real flight!"
Wilbur was climbing out of the Flyer, and Orville and the group of reporters headed over to talk with him, cameras flashing and questions already beginning to fly before they had even reached him. Sheppard started in that direction, then something made him hold back. He could feel the cold edge to the wind now, knew it was picking up and knew what was to come.
Instead of following them, he caught Wilbur's eye and waved, then gave him a thumbs-up gesture. And then he turned and walked back to the Doctor.
"What's wrong? Go ahead and congratulate them," the Doctor said, frowning as he studied Sheppard's face.
"No -- I don't trust myself to. The wind's picking up -- the Flyer gets tumbled down onto the sand and ends up too badly damaged to ever fly again. I don't know that I could keep myself from trying to stop it."
"Ahh. Smart lad. So, back into the TARDIS, then?"
"Yeah -- that... wow, that was amazing. That was..." he grinned. "Thank you, Doctor!"
They stepped back into the TARDIS, and while the reporters and the Wrights were busy discussing the longest flight of the day, they whiz-whirred back into the time stream. The Doctor smiled at Sheppard as he hung onto a pylon again, and asked him, "So, where to next?"
end