After a moment of silence, Jack turned and watched the kid complete the preflight. He considered his words carefully, then said, "This isn't a long trip, so I'll be as succinct as possible."
Sheppard looked up, and Jack held his gaze with a sharp, penetrating look.
The kid got the message. "That's pretty succinct," he said, turning back to the controls.
"Thank you."
Sheppard puffed out a breath. "Well, I told Dr. Weir I'd think about it."
Think about it? What the hell? "And? So? Well?" There was no answer. And it still didn't make any goddamn sense. "You're a seasoned officer. You've seen combat, so I know you don't scare easily."
For the first time, Sheppard reacted. "With all due respect, sir, we were just attacked by an alien missile, I just found out I've got some mutant gene-"
"Do I look like a mutant?"
That shocked the younger man and his eyebrows rose as he stared for a moment. "Okay. Fine." But he recovered fast. Very fast. "Then there's this Stargate and expeditions to other galaxies…"
Put like that, O'Neill could see how it might feel a little overwhelming. Time to take the kid's ego out of the equation. "This isn't about you, Sheppard," he snapped, deliberately ratcheting up his irritation. "It's bigger than that."
"Yeah, well, maybe it's just me, but right now at this very second, whether I go on this mission seems to me to be just a little bit about me."
Damn, but Jack liked this kid's attitude. Sheppard would have given Carter hell, and that would've been fun to watch. "Let me ask you something," Jack said. "Why'd you become a pilot?"
"I think people who don't want to fly are crazy." No hesitation on that one.
"And I think people who don't want to go through the Stargate are equally whacked!" That got a reaction too; perhaps he was starting to get through at last. All he needed now was an ultimatum. "The offer expires when this bird touches down. If you can't say yes by then, I don't want you."
Sheppard gave him a flat look, revealing nothing. Without comment he started up the rotor.
Jack looked away, out the window, as Sheppard took them up into the air and banked hard to the right, heading back to McMurdo. It was a short trip; he just hoped the kid could think as fast as he flew. And as smart.
Fall had settled across Washington, DC, that poignant moment when the last days of summer finally capitulated to the fresh, sapphire blue skies of autumn. The air was crisp, and even here, among the brownstone houses of Georgetown, Elizabeth Weir thought she could detect the scent of wood smoke in the air. It had always been her favorite time of year, a time of new beginnings and fond farewells. A time to turn her back on the hazy heat of summer and to march forward into the crystal clear days of winter.
This year the change was more poignant still. This year, though her heart was already halfway to the Pegasus galaxy, she found the goodbyes almost too difficult to bear. But it was hardly surprising; this year, for the first time, she knew she might never return. For the first time she knew it might be — would probably be — the final goodbye.
As she sat at the wide oak table and watched her family and closest friends talking and smiling and laughing, she wondered, for the hundredth time, how she dared do this. How she dared do this to them. The adventure was hers, the grief would be theirs. And she couldn't even tell them. If the worst happened, they'd be fed a lie — a cover story — and would bury an empty coffin.
It was the guilt, more than anything, that made her stomach churn. At her side her partner, Simon, detected her mood and reached out a hand to touch her knee beneath the table. Of them all, he was the hardest to leave. He was the hardest to lie to.
She covered his hand with her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. But she couldn't sit there any longer, prolonging the moment where she'd hug all her dinner guests and tell them she'd see them soon and that they shouldn't worry. The sooner it was done, the better. The sooner she was back at the SGC with her team, the better. These goodbyes were impossible.
Abruptly she stood, beginning to clear away the long-empty dishes. Once her guests had gone she could finish her packing and-
"Elizabeth, wait." Simon's hand was on her arm, an affectionate smile in his brown eyes. "Sit down a second, I want to make a toast."
Oh no. Please, not that. "Simon…"
"Just sit down."
She did, not wanting to make a scene. Not wanting to make this any more difficult than it already was. But that, in truth, was almost impossible. She couldn't imagine how it could get any worse than this moment, right now.
Clearing his throat, Simon stood and everyone fell silent. He turned to Elizabeth with a smile. "Wherever you're going this time… Whatever treaties you broker or international agreements that you can't tell your closest friends and family…"
Oh God. "Simon…"
He held up a hand. "I think I speak for everyone here. As much as we will miss you, we're willing to let you go because we all know you're doing your damndest to make the world a better place."
She had no words to answer him, her throat was too tight. Shakily she smiled, blinking tears out of her eyes as everyone raised their glasses. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for deceiving you, for leaving you. For putting this thing, this crazy adventure, before all of you.
"Elizabeth," Simon said quietly, raising his glass and taking a sip. It almost undid her.
It was so easy to feel sorry for herself tonight, to feel sorry for her family — and Simon. But she had to remember that she wasn't alone, that all across the world there were people saying goodbye tonight. Every member of her team knew it could be a one-way trip, and not one them could tell their partners, husbands, parents, or children. All of them were willing to sacrifice not only their lives, but the happiness of their families, for the sake of mankind's future — even, perhaps, for the sake of its very survival. And so she refused to wallow, refused to have second thoughts. She was their leader and she couldn't afford to doubt the value of what they were doing.
Determinedly, she lifted her own glass and clinked it gently against Simon's. "To the future," she said. And meant it.
Dr. Rodney McKay had always enjoyed his own company. In truth, he'd made a virtue out of necessity, but that didn't diminish the enjoyment he got from a cold beer, good TV, and the sense that he could breathe. People, in general, made him nervous. He didn't understand them; he didn't get people, and they certainly didn't get him. If they weren't asking questions so banal it made his brain ache, they were making unreasonable — even inexplicable — emotional demands that left him feeling entirely at sea. And he hated feeling like that, because he was a smart guy and he didn't understand how stupid people could make him feel, well, stupid.
So, his own company was relaxing. Refreshing. And it wasn't as if he was entirely alone — he had a cat. Cats he could relate to, they didn't demand much beyond food and the occasional rub behind the ears. If only people were so easily tamed…
That, in short, was why Rodney McKay found himself sitting alone in his apartment staring at his telephone. Tomorrow he'd be leaving for Colorado, and from there — astonishingly — for the Pegasus galaxy. He really should call his sister and say…what? Goodbye? Sorry I forgot your birthday the last three years, but you should be proud of me, because I'm about to blaze a trail for humanity across the universe?
Hardly. He hadn't called her when he'd been ban ished to Russia for a year (and he still hadn't entirely forgiven O'Neill for that one), so what made this different? The fact that he might never, ever return? He seriously wondered if she'd even notice. Which kind of made the phone call redundant. `Hi, just calling to say I'm leaving for an unspecified period of time to go somewhere I can't tell you about and to do something that's so top secret that I'd have to kill you if I let the truth slip.' Ha, ha. She wouldn't believe him anyway. She'd always thought he was the world's biggest geek, and he wouldn't be surprised if she assumed he was spending his time wearing a pair of Spock ears and replicating the USS Enterprise inside his apartment.