Flash of the Blade #8
Title: Flash of the Blade
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Amundson didn't seem surprised to find Sheppard in Lorne's office, but when Carter joined them, he sat up a little straighter, unfolding his tall frame from the chair.
"Rick, we've got some questions we need answered about the attack last night."
"I can get your legal rep in here at a moment's notice, but for now, this is just a fact-finding conversation," Lorne explained. "Do you understand?" His eyes darted towards Sheppard uneasily. It was the last expression Sheppard wanted to see on his second-in-command's face, but at the moment, it was the last thing he could concern himself with.
"Yes sir," Amundson said, with the air of having been through this kind of questioning before. "Ask away."
Sheppard went first. "Can you give us an account as to your whereabouts last night, between the hours of 0030 and 0200?"
"Seriously?" Amundson scowled, but stopped short of rolling his eyes. "Sir. I was off shift, in my quarters, asleep. Alone, to answer your next question."
"Okay," Carter began. "It has come to light that you might have some problems with certain members of this expedition. I am referring, here, to Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex."
Amundson shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend that we're friends, but I wasn't the one who attacked Ronon."
"Okay. You realize that you have given several people the impression that you would prefer that teams be comprised solely of Earth military members."
"In a strategic sense, yes sir, and I'm not the only one. But I do understand that you consider Ronon an asset in the field. I'm not going to risk my career just because I don't like him, and I'm not going to pick a fight with the guy, if only for self preservation."
"But he was attacked when he was already down for the count," Sheppard pointed out.
"How was I supposed to know that? As far as I knew, he could have been high on painkillers and feeling invincible. It would have been a stupid move to make."
"We're not making assumptions about stupidity, here," Sheppard said.
"Just alliance," Amundson muttered, leaning back in his chair.
"What was that, Lieutenant?"
This time, Amundson did roll his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's your teammate, not mine. Far as I'm concerned, we share the same enemies, that's it, and he knows it as well as I do."
"Right," Shepard nodded. "Can you explain to us how your security code was used to gain entry to the quarantine room just before the attack last night?"
Amundson's irritation gave way to worry, and it was apparent that he hadn't anticipated the question. "No sir."
"Does anyone have access to your codes?" Carter clarified, glancing at Sheppard as she spoke. "Or do you have it written down somewhere that they could be found?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then you see our dilemma, here," Sheppard said, scribbling gibberish on the margin of Amundson's file, just to make him twist a little.
Lorne cleared his throat, either asking Sheppard for permission to speak, or warning him that his ruse had been seen. "Have you been feeling well lately, Lieutenant? Sleeping all right? Have you had any strange headaches or anything else of that nature?"
"Sir? Ah. Not really." By now, Amundson was becoming concerned, his tone becoming more wary. "Not since we got back from New Sanacra."
Sheppard flipped through the folder in front of him, and found Keller's documentation of his post-mission checkup. "Says here it was dehydration and low blood sugar."
"Yes sir. Doctor Keller told me it was nothing to worry about," Amundson shrugged. "I took some Tylenol and went to sleep. Been feeling fine ever since."
Sheppard looked to Carter and Lorne to see if they had anything else to ask. "All right, one last question. Have you seen or heard anything that would shed some light on this matter?"
With that, the irritation was back, but Amundson managed to keep his tone in check. "Why, you think whoever did it is going to run around advertising it now that Ronon's back on his feet?"
"Just answer the question," Lorne said, his voice calm but full of warning.
"Fine. I haven't heard anything. But I'll come scampering back to rat and report if I do, all right?"
"All right. That's all for now. Dismissed."
Amundson vacated his seat, a surprisingly polite smile slapped over his usual scowl, and closed the door behind him as he left.
"He didn't leave his room last night," Carter confirmed, rubbing a hand over her face as she turned the laptop around. "The security feed from the hallway supports it."
"All right," said Lorne, sounding relieved. "What would you recommend?"
"I'd like to keep him grounded until this all blows over. We're going to resume normal access in the next 48 hours." Carter's eyes met Sheppard's, looking for agreement. "In the meantime, I would like you to keep an eye on him. It's unfortunate, but he's still our best lead."
"Right," Lorne agreed. "What's next?"
"Eat some lunch, take a break, then we keep asking around," Sheppard said, stretching his shoulders.
Lorne sighed. "Want to know where I was last night?"
"You were playing poker in Cadman's quarters until quite late, and, from your face on the cameras, you made out pretty well," Carter said, trying not to grin.
"Ah, I see." Lorne grimaced, trying to find the humor but failing. "If it helps any, I've been feeling fine, and think Ronon's a great guy."
"We know that," Sheppard said.
"I hope you realize why I had to be sure, we're going over a lot of footage. All the main corridors." Carter apologized. "I meant no offence."
"None taken, ma'am. So, who are you talking to next?"
"Don't know yet," Sheppard stood, sliding papers back into their files. "We don't have anything at the moment. Our best bet is someone who's been in contact with Amundson since the last time everyone changed their security codes, and that was a month ago."
"That could be a lot of people."
"I know. In the meantime, see if you can't work Amundson a little. He might know someone who knows something."
"You want me to play him?"
"No. Last thing we need is another team developing massive trust issues, so don't do anything you wouldn't do otherwise, all right? But you might want to let him know that the sooner this is cleared up, the sooner he's back out in the field."
"Yes sir. Thank you."
Once Lorne had left, Sheppard turned back to Carter, thinking. "There are cameras in the outer infirmary, right?"
"Yes, but they were hit with the stunners. We can't pull anything off of them, and they didn't catch anything useful before going out."
"Figures." He realized he was scowling. "Damn."
"What is it?"
"I'm just wishing that we didn't train our people in basic tactics, you know?"
"I agree. Having people know how to do their jobs independently does tend to make them complete pains in the ass." Carter blanched. "I'm sorry. Apparently I woke up this morning and began channeling McKay."
"I won't tell anyone. Morale's bad enough as it is."
---
Teyla shook her head when Ronon began heading for the gym, and stepped in front of him, steering them both towards her rooms and opening the door. "I do not believe Doctor Keller would approve of your resumption of a strenuous workout just yet."
"Don't wanna med'tate," Ronon grumbled, coughing, sitting on the couch in the too-warm room, watching her make tea.
"I am sure you have had your fill of being still for the time being," Teyla smiled, once the water was boiling. "And though we have not spoken in quite some time, I find myself at a loss as to where to begin."
Ronon shrugged, eyes on his knees. "So. How've you been?"
"I have been well, though I must admit, it is a relief to have you returned. Things, since your disappearance, have been quite stressful." At Ronon's questioning glance, she continued. "For all of us. Doctor McKay has eyes only for his work, even more so than usual. John as well, and much of his good humor has been absent."
Teyla's eyebrow was arched in speculation when Ronon's face rose to meet hers, making him wonder what she saw there. Thankfully, she turned away again to pour the tea, bringing two cups over and handing one over. "And, I must admit, I was beginning to feel like I stood apart from the people here."
"Huh?"
"It was becoming quite apparent that, without your presence, I am the only native here, in a city full of aliens."
Ronon drank some of the tea down. It was too hot, but felt good on his raw throat. "Did somethin' happen?"
"Not as such, no. Nothing more than words. It seems several of the newer expedition members follow the opinions of the IOA regarding our presence and position, here in Atlantis and specifically on the team. I worry that it may given motive to your attacker." She sipped at her tea, not meeting Ronon's eyes. "It is enough to cause one to reconsider one's decision to remain."
"Yeah." Ronon worked at his lower lip, finding the skin chapped. "Tell me about it."
"Have you made any decision as of yet?"
"No. Just got back. Need to find out what's what." I don't even know if leaving's an option, he didn't say. "Then I'll decide. What about you?"
"I, too, will wait and see, but I believe the situation can be salvaged."
"Why?"
"We have many friends here," Teyla chided gently, as if to remind him. "I would worry even more about them in my absence."
"Yeah. Me too," Ronon said, leaning back into the sofa, but he was thinking only of Sheppard, of the look on his face when he came into the infirmary the night before. Like he'd had something ripped away that he'd assumed permanent. "Think Sheppard will find anything?"
"I think he will try everything in his power, Ronon."
"But it's his own people."
"So are you."
Ronon was growing tired of Teyla's cautious optimism. "But we're not even from the same… For all I know, whoever did it was born in the same town as him. I. We can't compete with that."
"Well," Teyla placed her cup on the table. "You have seen for yourself that birthplace alone is no guarantee of allegiance."
"Could end the same, though." Ronon leaned back against the couch to stare at the ceiling. "Me killing someone."
Teyla's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, before furrowing in concern. "Do you consider it a likely outcome?"
"If they try again? Might be." Especially if I'm gonna be stuck here. Might not have the choice.
"In which case, you would be justified in defending yourself."
"Don't think they'll see it that way," Ronon said, sitting up with a humorless grin to drain the last of his tea.
"Ronon," Teyla began, choosing her words deliberately. "Right now, as we sit here, John is looking for the person who did this to you. Not because he has to, but because he cares about you. I am sure he understands all that it entails. Everything else may take some time, but for now, you need only ask yourself one thing. Do you trust him?"
"Yeah. Think so." He came for me, eventually. He guarded over my sleep. "Just don't know if he trusts me."
----
Sheppard was balancing a very overloaded mess tray when the door opened, explaining, "I'm not sure eating out is the way to go right now, for either of you, so for now, we're doing takeout." He placed the tray down on the edge of the table. "Rodney's on his-" he was cut off as McKay hurried in behind him, pulling bottles of water out of his pack.
"So," McKay began, dragging the desk chair over to the table, "What did I miss? Oh, Ronon. Good to see you're up and about, and. You know. Not dead."
It was awkward, but familiar, and Ronon nodded his head. "Thanks."
"How is the investigation proceeding?" Teyla asked, eyes darting from McKay to Sheppard as she reached for an apple.
"Slowly," McKay admitted, after a moment. "All stunners are accounted for, and there was so much in-and-out over the past few days that finding the point at which one could have been borrowed is hard to pin down. I hate to say it, but it would be easier if it was a gun. At least then, we'd be able to figure which one is missing bullets, or-"
"I know, Rodney." Sheppard grumbled. "It would also be nice if we had an entire CSI unit to go with it. You've said."
"CSI unit?" Teyla turned questioning eyes towards Ronon, to see if he was equally confused.
"Crime scene investigators. They're trained to find evidence in cases like this. I do wish we had actual detectives on the case, though because me? I've got nothing. One suspect, but so far, we're not getting anything out of him."
"Who was it?" Ronon asked.
Sheppard pulled a face, considering. "Amundson, but you're really not supposed to know that, so keep it quiet. At any rate, he checked out, so I don't know how much it matters."
Ronon picked at his sandwich, trying to think, trying to remember the feel of the hands around his throat, the force it took to knock the assailant away. "Not sure it was him," he winced as he swallowed and reached for his water. "Think the guy was shorter, maybe?"
"Really?" Sheppard cocked his head to the side, considering. "Cool. That actually helps."
McKay rolled his eyes. "Yes. It only puts those of us who are less than seven feet tall under suspicion."
"It's more than we knew a few minutes ago," Sheppard argued.
"Ronon was lying down when-"
Teyla seemed as annoyed at the bickering as Ronon, and interrupted, asking, "Can we not speak of other things for the next while?"
"Sure." Ronon nodded eagerly, swallowing the last of his sandwich. "So. How're things at the village?"
As Teyla began to recount a story about the most recent hunt, Ronon sat back, looking around at the others. McKay was shoveling food into his mouth, Sheppard was laughing at all the right places, and for the moment, at least, things were starting to edge towards normality.
There are always worse places to be stuck.
---
"Wanna get out of here?" Sheppard offered, once they were done eating. "Grab your radio. I've got an hour or so to kill. Figure we can head out to the southwest pier or something."
"Sounds good," Ronon agreed, hand brushing against his holster, just to make sure it was still there.
Sheppard fell into step at Ronon's five as they headed towards the doors. If he was letting Ronon take the lead, or watching his back, he never said, and Ronon didn't ask.
There was a cool breeze coming off the water, but the sun beat down brightly, cutting the chill as they walked. Ronon hadn't realized how much he missed it, even if walking did seem to take more exertion than he remembered. "Seems longer when we're not running," he said, hoping he didn't sound too winded.
"A lot of things are like that," Sheppard said, slowly. "Like when you were gone. Was only a few weeks, but it felt like longer."
"Especially when I didn't know you guys were gonna come."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't easy to find you. You should have told us something was up."
"Didn't know you were there to tell. Besides, the angry townspeople weren't message enough?"
"Not exactly clear, no. How were we to know? Matter of fact, we still don't, because you still haven't told us what went down. Besides, not all that long ago, you were wanting to leave, you know."
"I never wanted to stay away," Ronon sighed, not wanting to make things worse, and not having any other choice. "That was all you."
"It." Sheppard stopped himself with an annoyed shake of his head. "Look. We tried. There were no signs of you anywhere."
"So you thought I deserted you?"
"Well, we did wonder, actually. Didn't stop us from looking, though."
"Why?" Why would you bother?
Sheppard gave him a searching look and the edge of a smirk. "Because if you had decided to go solo, I would've had to try talking you out of it."
"What if you couldn't?"
"What do you mean?" The grin slid off Sheppard's face so quickly that it might not have been there at all.
"If you couldn't talk me out of it, would you let me leave?"
"I'd be pissed off. Worried. But yeah, I'd let you go. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I might tell our enemies everything I know about Atlantis?"
Sheppard snorted and resumed his pace. "If I thought you'd do that, you never would have learned anything about Atlantis in the first place."
Ronon was distracted by the calm certainty in Sheppard's voice, knowing he wouldn't let his reaction show if John had been looking. They continued onward, though, until the rest of the inevitable conversation became too heavy to ignore.
"You know Carter wasn't going to let me go," Ronon said, snorting. "Which at least balances out the people who don't want me here, but. Look." Ronon stopped walking, wanting to be sure he had Sheppard's attention before continuing. "I need to know. Am I only staying here because it's too dangerous for you to let me leave?"
"You're staying here because you want to, and because we want you here. I want you on my team." Confusion flitted across Sheppard's face, like he worried he'd come up short, and was trying to think up something that sounded better.
"Is it really that simple?" Ronon frowned, because he was still missing something, and he'd run out of other questions to ask.
"Hi," Sheppard smirked and stuck out his hand, fingers splayed. "Name's John. I'm a simple guy." Ronon shook the offered hand, trying not to laugh, because somehow, that answered everything, at least enough for now.
John again opened his mouth to speak, but then the bullet sliced into him, the sound of a gunshot replacing whatever he'd meant to say.
Chapter 9
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Amundson didn't seem surprised to find Sheppard in Lorne's office, but when Carter joined them, he sat up a little straighter, unfolding his tall frame from the chair.
"Rick, we've got some questions we need answered about the attack last night."
"I can get your legal rep in here at a moment's notice, but for now, this is just a fact-finding conversation," Lorne explained. "Do you understand?" His eyes darted towards Sheppard uneasily. It was the last expression Sheppard wanted to see on his second-in-command's face, but at the moment, it was the last thing he could concern himself with.
"Yes sir," Amundson said, with the air of having been through this kind of questioning before. "Ask away."
Sheppard went first. "Can you give us an account as to your whereabouts last night, between the hours of 0030 and 0200?"
"Seriously?" Amundson scowled, but stopped short of rolling his eyes. "Sir. I was off shift, in my quarters, asleep. Alone, to answer your next question."
"Okay," Carter began. "It has come to light that you might have some problems with certain members of this expedition. I am referring, here, to Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex."
Amundson shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend that we're friends, but I wasn't the one who attacked Ronon."
"Okay. You realize that you have given several people the impression that you would prefer that teams be comprised solely of Earth military members."
"In a strategic sense, yes sir, and I'm not the only one. But I do understand that you consider Ronon an asset in the field. I'm not going to risk my career just because I don't like him, and I'm not going to pick a fight with the guy, if only for self preservation."
"But he was attacked when he was already down for the count," Sheppard pointed out.
"How was I supposed to know that? As far as I knew, he could have been high on painkillers and feeling invincible. It would have been a stupid move to make."
"We're not making assumptions about stupidity, here," Sheppard said.
"Just alliance," Amundson muttered, leaning back in his chair.
"What was that, Lieutenant?"
This time, Amundson did roll his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's your teammate, not mine. Far as I'm concerned, we share the same enemies, that's it, and he knows it as well as I do."
"Right," Shepard nodded. "Can you explain to us how your security code was used to gain entry to the quarantine room just before the attack last night?"
Amundson's irritation gave way to worry, and it was apparent that he hadn't anticipated the question. "No sir."
"Does anyone have access to your codes?" Carter clarified, glancing at Sheppard as she spoke. "Or do you have it written down somewhere that they could be found?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then you see our dilemma, here," Sheppard said, scribbling gibberish on the margin of Amundson's file, just to make him twist a little.
Lorne cleared his throat, either asking Sheppard for permission to speak, or warning him that his ruse had been seen. "Have you been feeling well lately, Lieutenant? Sleeping all right? Have you had any strange headaches or anything else of that nature?"
"Sir? Ah. Not really." By now, Amundson was becoming concerned, his tone becoming more wary. "Not since we got back from New Sanacra."
Sheppard flipped through the folder in front of him, and found Keller's documentation of his post-mission checkup. "Says here it was dehydration and low blood sugar."
"Yes sir. Doctor Keller told me it was nothing to worry about," Amundson shrugged. "I took some Tylenol and went to sleep. Been feeling fine ever since."
Sheppard looked to Carter and Lorne to see if they had anything else to ask. "All right, one last question. Have you seen or heard anything that would shed some light on this matter?"
With that, the irritation was back, but Amundson managed to keep his tone in check. "Why, you think whoever did it is going to run around advertising it now that Ronon's back on his feet?"
"Just answer the question," Lorne said, his voice calm but full of warning.
"Fine. I haven't heard anything. But I'll come scampering back to rat and report if I do, all right?"
"All right. That's all for now. Dismissed."
Amundson vacated his seat, a surprisingly polite smile slapped over his usual scowl, and closed the door behind him as he left.
"He didn't leave his room last night," Carter confirmed, rubbing a hand over her face as she turned the laptop around. "The security feed from the hallway supports it."
"All right," said Lorne, sounding relieved. "What would you recommend?"
"I'd like to keep him grounded until this all blows over. We're going to resume normal access in the next 48 hours." Carter's eyes met Sheppard's, looking for agreement. "In the meantime, I would like you to keep an eye on him. It's unfortunate, but he's still our best lead."
"Right," Lorne agreed. "What's next?"
"Eat some lunch, take a break, then we keep asking around," Sheppard said, stretching his shoulders.
Lorne sighed. "Want to know where I was last night?"
"You were playing poker in Cadman's quarters until quite late, and, from your face on the cameras, you made out pretty well," Carter said, trying not to grin.
"Ah, I see." Lorne grimaced, trying to find the humor but failing. "If it helps any, I've been feeling fine, and think Ronon's a great guy."
"We know that," Sheppard said.
"I hope you realize why I had to be sure, we're going over a lot of footage. All the main corridors." Carter apologized. "I meant no offence."
"None taken, ma'am. So, who are you talking to next?"
"Don't know yet," Sheppard stood, sliding papers back into their files. "We don't have anything at the moment. Our best bet is someone who's been in contact with Amundson since the last time everyone changed their security codes, and that was a month ago."
"That could be a lot of people."
"I know. In the meantime, see if you can't work Amundson a little. He might know someone who knows something."
"You want me to play him?"
"No. Last thing we need is another team developing massive trust issues, so don't do anything you wouldn't do otherwise, all right? But you might want to let him know that the sooner this is cleared up, the sooner he's back out in the field."
"Yes sir. Thank you."
Once Lorne had left, Sheppard turned back to Carter, thinking. "There are cameras in the outer infirmary, right?"
"Yes, but they were hit with the stunners. We can't pull anything off of them, and they didn't catch anything useful before going out."
"Figures." He realized he was scowling. "Damn."
"What is it?"
"I'm just wishing that we didn't train our people in basic tactics, you know?"
"I agree. Having people know how to do their jobs independently does tend to make them complete pains in the ass." Carter blanched. "I'm sorry. Apparently I woke up this morning and began channeling McKay."
"I won't tell anyone. Morale's bad enough as it is."
---
Teyla shook her head when Ronon began heading for the gym, and stepped in front of him, steering them both towards her rooms and opening the door. "I do not believe Doctor Keller would approve of your resumption of a strenuous workout just yet."
"Don't wanna med'tate," Ronon grumbled, coughing, sitting on the couch in the too-warm room, watching her make tea.
"I am sure you have had your fill of being still for the time being," Teyla smiled, once the water was boiling. "And though we have not spoken in quite some time, I find myself at a loss as to where to begin."
Ronon shrugged, eyes on his knees. "So. How've you been?"
"I have been well, though I must admit, it is a relief to have you returned. Things, since your disappearance, have been quite stressful." At Ronon's questioning glance, she continued. "For all of us. Doctor McKay has eyes only for his work, even more so than usual. John as well, and much of his good humor has been absent."
Teyla's eyebrow was arched in speculation when Ronon's face rose to meet hers, making him wonder what she saw there. Thankfully, she turned away again to pour the tea, bringing two cups over and handing one over. "And, I must admit, I was beginning to feel like I stood apart from the people here."
"Huh?"
"It was becoming quite apparent that, without your presence, I am the only native here, in a city full of aliens."
Ronon drank some of the tea down. It was too hot, but felt good on his raw throat. "Did somethin' happen?"
"Not as such, no. Nothing more than words. It seems several of the newer expedition members follow the opinions of the IOA regarding our presence and position, here in Atlantis and specifically on the team. I worry that it may given motive to your attacker." She sipped at her tea, not meeting Ronon's eyes. "It is enough to cause one to reconsider one's decision to remain."
"Yeah." Ronon worked at his lower lip, finding the skin chapped. "Tell me about it."
"Have you made any decision as of yet?"
"No. Just got back. Need to find out what's what." I don't even know if leaving's an option, he didn't say. "Then I'll decide. What about you?"
"I, too, will wait and see, but I believe the situation can be salvaged."
"Why?"
"We have many friends here," Teyla chided gently, as if to remind him. "I would worry even more about them in my absence."
"Yeah. Me too," Ronon said, leaning back into the sofa, but he was thinking only of Sheppard, of the look on his face when he came into the infirmary the night before. Like he'd had something ripped away that he'd assumed permanent. "Think Sheppard will find anything?"
"I think he will try everything in his power, Ronon."
"But it's his own people."
"So are you."
Ronon was growing tired of Teyla's cautious optimism. "But we're not even from the same… For all I know, whoever did it was born in the same town as him. I. We can't compete with that."
"Well," Teyla placed her cup on the table. "You have seen for yourself that birthplace alone is no guarantee of allegiance."
"Could end the same, though." Ronon leaned back against the couch to stare at the ceiling. "Me killing someone."
Teyla's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, before furrowing in concern. "Do you consider it a likely outcome?"
"If they try again? Might be." Especially if I'm gonna be stuck here. Might not have the choice.
"In which case, you would be justified in defending yourself."
"Don't think they'll see it that way," Ronon said, sitting up with a humorless grin to drain the last of his tea.
"Ronon," Teyla began, choosing her words deliberately. "Right now, as we sit here, John is looking for the person who did this to you. Not because he has to, but because he cares about you. I am sure he understands all that it entails. Everything else may take some time, but for now, you need only ask yourself one thing. Do you trust him?"
"Yeah. Think so." He came for me, eventually. He guarded over my sleep. "Just don't know if he trusts me."
----
Sheppard was balancing a very overloaded mess tray when the door opened, explaining, "I'm not sure eating out is the way to go right now, for either of you, so for now, we're doing takeout." He placed the tray down on the edge of the table. "Rodney's on his-" he was cut off as McKay hurried in behind him, pulling bottles of water out of his pack.
"So," McKay began, dragging the desk chair over to the table, "What did I miss? Oh, Ronon. Good to see you're up and about, and. You know. Not dead."
It was awkward, but familiar, and Ronon nodded his head. "Thanks."
"How is the investigation proceeding?" Teyla asked, eyes darting from McKay to Sheppard as she reached for an apple.
"Slowly," McKay admitted, after a moment. "All stunners are accounted for, and there was so much in-and-out over the past few days that finding the point at which one could have been borrowed is hard to pin down. I hate to say it, but it would be easier if it was a gun. At least then, we'd be able to figure which one is missing bullets, or-"
"I know, Rodney." Sheppard grumbled. "It would also be nice if we had an entire CSI unit to go with it. You've said."
"CSI unit?" Teyla turned questioning eyes towards Ronon, to see if he was equally confused.
"Crime scene investigators. They're trained to find evidence in cases like this. I do wish we had actual detectives on the case, though because me? I've got nothing. One suspect, but so far, we're not getting anything out of him."
"Who was it?" Ronon asked.
Sheppard pulled a face, considering. "Amundson, but you're really not supposed to know that, so keep it quiet. At any rate, he checked out, so I don't know how much it matters."
Ronon picked at his sandwich, trying to think, trying to remember the feel of the hands around his throat, the force it took to knock the assailant away. "Not sure it was him," he winced as he swallowed and reached for his water. "Think the guy was shorter, maybe?"
"Really?" Sheppard cocked his head to the side, considering. "Cool. That actually helps."
McKay rolled his eyes. "Yes. It only puts those of us who are less than seven feet tall under suspicion."
"It's more than we knew a few minutes ago," Sheppard argued.
"Ronon was lying down when-"
Teyla seemed as annoyed at the bickering as Ronon, and interrupted, asking, "Can we not speak of other things for the next while?"
"Sure." Ronon nodded eagerly, swallowing the last of his sandwich. "So. How're things at the village?"
As Teyla began to recount a story about the most recent hunt, Ronon sat back, looking around at the others. McKay was shoveling food into his mouth, Sheppard was laughing at all the right places, and for the moment, at least, things were starting to edge towards normality.
There are always worse places to be stuck.
---
"Wanna get out of here?" Sheppard offered, once they were done eating. "Grab your radio. I've got an hour or so to kill. Figure we can head out to the southwest pier or something."
"Sounds good," Ronon agreed, hand brushing against his holster, just to make sure it was still there.
Sheppard fell into step at Ronon's five as they headed towards the doors. If he was letting Ronon take the lead, or watching his back, he never said, and Ronon didn't ask.
There was a cool breeze coming off the water, but the sun beat down brightly, cutting the chill as they walked. Ronon hadn't realized how much he missed it, even if walking did seem to take more exertion than he remembered. "Seems longer when we're not running," he said, hoping he didn't sound too winded.
"A lot of things are like that," Sheppard said, slowly. "Like when you were gone. Was only a few weeks, but it felt like longer."
"Especially when I didn't know you guys were gonna come."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't easy to find you. You should have told us something was up."
"Didn't know you were there to tell. Besides, the angry townspeople weren't message enough?"
"Not exactly clear, no. How were we to know? Matter of fact, we still don't, because you still haven't told us what went down. Besides, not all that long ago, you were wanting to leave, you know."
"I never wanted to stay away," Ronon sighed, not wanting to make things worse, and not having any other choice. "That was all you."
"It." Sheppard stopped himself with an annoyed shake of his head. "Look. We tried. There were no signs of you anywhere."
"So you thought I deserted you?"
"Well, we did wonder, actually. Didn't stop us from looking, though."
"Why?" Why would you bother?
Sheppard gave him a searching look and the edge of a smirk. "Because if you had decided to go solo, I would've had to try talking you out of it."
"What if you couldn't?"
"What do you mean?" The grin slid off Sheppard's face so quickly that it might not have been there at all.
"If you couldn't talk me out of it, would you let me leave?"
"I'd be pissed off. Worried. But yeah, I'd let you go. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I might tell our enemies everything I know about Atlantis?"
Sheppard snorted and resumed his pace. "If I thought you'd do that, you never would have learned anything about Atlantis in the first place."
Ronon was distracted by the calm certainty in Sheppard's voice, knowing he wouldn't let his reaction show if John had been looking. They continued onward, though, until the rest of the inevitable conversation became too heavy to ignore.
"You know Carter wasn't going to let me go," Ronon said, snorting. "Which at least balances out the people who don't want me here, but. Look." Ronon stopped walking, wanting to be sure he had Sheppard's attention before continuing. "I need to know. Am I only staying here because it's too dangerous for you to let me leave?"
"You're staying here because you want to, and because we want you here. I want you on my team." Confusion flitted across Sheppard's face, like he worried he'd come up short, and was trying to think up something that sounded better.
"Is it really that simple?" Ronon frowned, because he was still missing something, and he'd run out of other questions to ask.
"Hi," Sheppard smirked and stuck out his hand, fingers splayed. "Name's John. I'm a simple guy." Ronon shook the offered hand, trying not to laugh, because somehow, that answered everything, at least enough for now.
John again opened his mouth to speak, but then the bullet sliced into him, the sound of a gunshot replacing whatever he'd meant to say.
Chapter 9