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I know you haven't been feeling well lately, so I thought this might offer you a moment of amusement. I found the notebook/journal that I used last summer, and in it is (drumroll please)...the only Atlantis fic I will ever (partially) write! If I'm remembering correctly, I believe this was inspired by a conversation between Tahlia and Little Red in one of their journals.
Note: all the technical jargony stuff and SG backgroundy canony stuff is complete bullshit b/c I don't really pay attention to details and I'm too lazy to research, especially for something that's written purely for my own enjoyment (where "enjoyment" means "must purge this from my head immediately").
John intercepted Elizabeth outside the mess, smiled easily, and fell into step beside her. He skipped 'good morning' and started the conversation in the middle; she didn't seem to mind. "So since these solar flares are gonna keep us from going offworld for a while, some of the men have requested a little R&R on the mainland..."
"Have they now? I assume you've run this by Teyla."
"She thinks it's a good opportunity for cultural exchange."
"Mmhm." She smirked a bit. "As long as that's all that's exchanged."
He feigned being taken aback by her innuendo. "Hey, my people are ladies and gentelmen. I can't vouch for all the marines..."
"Any chance of including a few civilians on this little excursion? It'd be a good chance to do some new ground surveys."
He nodded. "No reason it can't be a working vacation. So...you like camping?"
She stopped short. "Me? I--"
The sounding of the alarm covered her answer. "Unscheduled offworld activation! All senior personnel to the gate room. We have an incoming wormhole."
"Oh, crap," Sheppard said as they both ran for the transporter. "Control, this is Sheppard. Dr Weir and I are on our way. Have a security team standing by."
"Acknowledged, sir."
"How's the shield holding up?" Elizabeth asked over the comm.
"So far, so good, ma'am," came the voice of the gate technician.
"Looks like you might have to postpone your camping trip, John."
"Just when I thought it was going to be a nice, quiet week."
They ran into Dr. McKay rushing out of another transporter as they reached the command center. "We don't have any teams offworld, do we?"
"No," they both answered.
"Because I told you not to send any teams offworld during these solar flares. The consequences could be—"
"We said no, Rodney. Could the activiation be a glitch caused by the solar activity?" Elizabeth asked.
"I suppose it's possible, but it isn't likely." He went to a console and began furiously pushing buttons.
"We're definitely being dialed, ma'am," said the senior tech on duty.
"From where?" Sheppard asked. "Who even knows this address besides Earth?"
"I can't pinpoint the origin," said McKay. "The solar radiation is mucking up all sorts of things. But it's definitely coming from this galaxy." He stopped cold for a moment. "The Genii?" he asked, voicing both Weir and Sheppard's concern.
"Wait a second," the tech interrupted. "I'm getting an IDC. It's a little hard to read, but—"
"Yes, it's one of ours," Rodney confirmed.
"But we have no personnel offworld," Elizabeth reiterated. "If this is a ruse it's not a terribly clever one."
"Huh," said McKay.
"'Huh' what, Rodney?" asked Sheppard.
"Did you give out your locker combination to all your friends in high school?"
"What?"
"The IDC we're getting," explained the tech. "It's Col. Sheppard's."
"Huh," said Elizabeth.
"Well it isn't me," John said as they all stared at him. "I'm right here, see?"
"I have a bad feeling about this," Rodney muttered darkly.
"And you're usually such a Pollyanna about these things, McKay."
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "I'm inclined to agree with your bad feeling, Rodney. At the very least we have a security breach—"
"I didn't give out my IDC to anyone."
"Of course not. But we may have been hacked somehow. Until we know what's going on we keep the shield in place and wait for the wormhole to close. Agreed?"
Sheppard nodded. "Meanwhile, everybody on base gets a new IDC. I want the old ones wiped."
"On second thought," Elizabeth mused aloud.
"On second thought what?" John asked with trepidation.
"If we don't find out who's on the other side of that wormhole we may never know how someone got hold of your IDC. It could happen again."
"So you're saying we point a lot of guns at them and let ‘em through."
"It's one option."
"I can't say I'm not curious. But if a ship comes through there and strafes the command center, I'll wish I'd decided to live with the curiosity."
"Are you both forgetting the incredibly thorough and detailed briefing I gave you on why we don't permit gate travel during intense solar flare activity?"
"Sure, because it can redirect wormholes—"
"Through space and time, yes. What you're both failing to realize is that the most likely explanation for why it's Sheppard's IDC that's dialing in is that it is, in fact, Colonel Sheppard trying to come through the gate."
"Excuse me?"
Dr. Weir sighed. "Time travel."
"Completely accidental, but yes. SG1 once got sent thirty years into the past. Which you'd know if you'd paid any attention to my briefing."
"I remember, Rodney. It just sounded like one of those fluky things that only happens to O'Neill. So you're saying that's actually me out there."
"Well, it could be. It might be you from last week, or next month—"
"So what do you advise?"
"Oh. Yeah, just wait for the wormhole to close."
John rounded on McKay, alarmed. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Well we don't want to wreak havoc with the timeline, now do we?"
"So we're just going to leave me out there? What if I'm under fire? What if it's me from the past, and by not letting me through you're killing me?"
"Well then you wouldn't be here, so it's—"
A technician interrupted them. "We're getting another surge in the city's systems. I'm afraid the shield is about to—" Before he could finish the sentence, the barrier flickered and disappeared. "Incoming traveler!"
Sheppard moved the security team, weapons at the ready, into position around the gate. "Minimum safe distance!" He aimed his P-90 at the lone figure who ambled through.
"What took you guys so long? I was—"
"Hold it! Hands in the air."
The other man obeyed. It was obvious now that he was, or at least appeared to be, John Sheppard. Except he was at least a decade older, and he wasn't wearing the standard uniform of the Atlantis USAF personnel. He looked around the room, then returned his gaze to his perplexed double. "Oh, crap," he said.
"Remove your weapon, slowly, and slide it over to me."
As he did so, he asked, "Solar flares? Dammit, I was afraid something like this might happen." He started to step forward, but his younger self stopped him short. "Is that really necessary?" He frowned at himself.
"I'm afraid it is, at least until we're sure you are who you appear to be," said Weir as she came down the stairs toward the visitor. She smiled, though. It certainly seemed like Sheppard.
For his part, upon seeing her he stepped backward, his face filled with a shock he quickly tried to hide. "Elizabeth," he said, and John knew his throat was tight as he said it, no matter how casual he tried to make it sound. John looked curiously between his older self and Dr. Weir, and began to feel very uneasy. She seemed to have noticed the awkwardness, and her smile dimmed.
"Well…Colonel? We should get you to medical."
"General, actually. Retired."
Non-time-displaced Sheppard took a moment to feel smug—and surprised--about his promotion.
"Look, can't we just dial up my last location and send me back through? Avoid all this temporal hassle?"
"Uh, no," said McKay as he approached the newcomer. "And believe me, I'm not saying this because I'm thrilled at the prospect of having two of you hanging around. But we'd have no clue what timeframe you'd end up in, or even where you'd end up. Your best chance of getting back to where you belong is to stay here, where I can figure it out." He attempted to push his way through the security team, but was rebuffed. "Look, he's you. Do you think we could reduce the Rambo posturing just a tad?"
"Same old McKay. Good to see you, too, Rodney."
"What does that mean? Am I not in the future? Oh, god, am I dead? No, don't tell me! Whatever you do, don't tell me."
"Wasn't planning on it."
John reluctantly ordered the team to stand down, but assigned three marine guards to accompany their guest, himself, Elizabeth, and McKay to Beckett's lab. He kept his hand on his sidearm the whole time.
In the transporter, McKay began babbling about anomalies and paradoxes and temporal whosits, but neither Sheppard paid much attention. As deeply weirded out as he was, the younger John couldn't help staring at this future self. It was strange suddenly knowing where you were going to get your wrinkles, and just how your hair was going to gray "starting at the temples). At least he wasn't bald on top. He couldn't tell for sure because the jacket hid a lot, but he didn't think he'd developed a gut, either. In fact, this guy might even have been in better shape than he was now. He didn't know if this assuaged his vanity or bruised it. There was something hard about the guy all around, actually. It was a little worrying. He'd expected retirement to be relaxing. And Earthbound, for that matter.
"So. General, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
General Sheppard, arms crossed over his chest, seemed uninterested in conversation. What he did seem interested in, though he tried to be stealthy about it, was Elizabeth Weir. He focused on her end of the conversation she was having with McKay. He seemed to sense it whenever she moved; with every nod or gesture from her, his posture shifted slightly. John was pretty sure he was trying very hard not to turn around at stare at her, and that it was more than the armed guards that was stopping him.
John and Elizabeth stood outside the infirmary and watched Beckett draw blood from the other Sheppard to confirm his identity.
"Strange, isn't it?" she said sympathetically.
"Yeah, that's one word for it. I'm pretty sure I hate time travel. McKay'll find a way to send him back, right?"
"I hope so. I don't know if the city can survive two of you."
"Ha ha, Elizabeth."
In the lab, the other Sheppard turned around briefly and saw them. His eyes caught hers for an instant and then he quickly turned away. Elizabeth shivered.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes, I…I just got the strangest feeling when he looked at me. I'm sure it's nothing."
John was pretty sure it was something, but decided it was best to let her brush it aside until he had something definite to tell her.
"It’s probably just the weirdness of the whole situation. It must make you think about…you know." He wasn’t quite sure how to put it. "The other you."
"Yes, that’s probably it. When Carson is finished I’d like all three of you to come to my office. We’ll sit down with McKay and Zelenka and try to sort this all out."
"Okay."
She took one long last look and then walked away.
"So, General Sheppard, is it?"
"You can call me John, Carson."
"Well, John, shall we have a chat as we’re waiting for the results?"
"I can’t tell you anything about the future."
"Oh, I know, I know. Let’s start with the basics, then. How old are you?"
"Fifty-four."
"You’re in excellent condition."
"I work out. Is it done yet so I can get out of here? No offense, but I hate this place."
"You have spent a lot of time here in the infirmary, haven’t you?"
"More than you know."
A machine beeped behind Carson, who turned to check its display. "Well. It appears you really are John Sheppard."
"I’m so relieved."
Carson chuckled. "Frankly, I never doubted it for a minute. The rest of your bloodwork is clean, too."
"Good to know. I assume this means I can get these armed guards off me now? Not that you’re not doing a great job, guys," he said to the two marines at the door.
"I’m afraid that’s up to—well, you, really." Beckett signaled to Col. Sheppard with a thumbs up. The colonel entered the lab, asking, "And that means?"
"It means I’m you, so you can stop pointing guns at me."
"The DNA matched?"
"One hundred percent."
"And there’s no chance he’s an alien space monster who can mimic human DNA?"
"Well…I hadn’t thought of that, honestly,"
"Oh, for god’s sake. Your third grade teacher was Mrs. Hughes. The class hamster’s name was Jiffy. You had a crush on Kathleen Peranski and every day at recess you stole her lunchbox. One time in junior high you fell asleep in English class and—"
"Okay! Okay, fine, you’re me. No need to share that little anecdote with the world. We’re supposed to go up to Elizabeth’s office now to see if we can figure out how to send you back when you came from. Not that it isn’t a delight to have you around."
"Trust me, I’m not looking to stay. I need to get home."
"Let’s get to it, then." The two Sheppards headed for the door, as did the guards, who had not yet been dismissed, probably just in case of that whole ‘alien space monster’ possibility.
Dr. Beckett jumped ahead of them. "If I may have just another moment with the general, Colonel." The older man looked at him quizzically, while the younger Sheppard and the guards waited in the hall.
"What’s up, Carson?"
"John, I completely agree that you shouldn’t tell us anything about our future or possible future if you can help it."
"But?"
"To that end, you might want to remove your wedding ring."
Stunned for a brief second, John looked down at his left hand and winced. "Crap. I forgot all about it."
"You’ve been twisting it around the whole time you were sitting in the lab."
"Do you think she—do you think anyone saw?"
"I don’t know. Maybe not. Little things like that can escape notice, especially in the midst of such an unusual situation."
"Yeah. Thanks, Carson. I have your word you won’ tell anyone? I mean, it’s not a big deal, it’s just—"
"We’ll call it doctor-patient confidentiality."
John slapped his arm. "You’re a life-saver."
In Elizabeth’s office, McKay took full advantage of his opportunity to be the Guy Who Runs the Meeting Because He Knows the Most.
"The first thing we have to determine is whether or not we are in a time loop."
"And how do we do that?"
"When you were the Colonel’s age, did an older you come through the gate and annoy everyone?"
Both Sheppards rolled their eyes, and the older one answered, "No."
"Then probably not a loop."
"Unless he’s lying," added Zelenka. "Unless he’s telling us it’s not a loop in order to preserve the loop for some reason we can’t foresee."
"I was getting to that."
General Sheppard frowned. "I’m not lying."
"Let’s assume he isn’t lying," McKay continued, "because even if he is, it’s probably required that we assume he isn’t in order for us to play our parts in the loop, if we’re in a loop, which I really don’t think is the case. All right everyone?"
The younger John groaned and lowered his head to the table. "I was right. I hate time travel."
"What next, Rodney?" prompted Elizabeth.
"Does everything else seem familiar to you?" he asked their visitor. "You’ve read the reports, mission briefings, had a look around a bit?"
"Not thoroughly, but so far it’s just like I remember it."
McKay nodded. "Just as I thought." He addressed John—the usual one—directly. "Until today, when he stupidly stepped through that gate during solar flare activity roughly, what? Fifteen years from now? Anyway, until then, this man—"
"Don’t point at me, McKay."
"Was you. Or will be you. Whatever syntactical twist you want to put on it. His past was your future. Until today, when he created a whole new timeline by showing up here and now."
"But…" Elizabeth started slowly. "Wouldn’t that write over that version of our future, and his past? So then he wouldn’t exist to come back and disrupt the timeline in the first place…" She sighed. "I know I shouldn’t be so confused by this. This has happened to me. Sort of."
Zelenka stepped in. "The basic theory is that timelines sometimes diverge, creating alternate realities, rather than always writing over each other. But it can be difficult to tell the difference. SG1 has had some experience with this. The files are quite fascinating—"
"Wait. Are you guys saying that by accidentally showing up in my own past, which isn’t actually my past anymore since I showed up, that I changed his future, and my present no longer exists?"
McKay sighed in exasperation. "I see your listening skills haven’t improved significantly in fifteen years. That’s not what we’re saying at all. The fact that you didn’t ‘poof’ out of existence the moment you stepped through the event horizon indicates that somewhere—"
"Somewhen," Zelenka interjected helpfully.
"Oh, yes, Radek, that’s adorable, I’m sure."
"My timeline still exists. I can go back."
"I didn’t say that."
Across the table, Elizabeth rubbed at her brow. "Nevertheless, we’ll do our best to make it happen, won’t we, Rodney?"
"Well, of course, but—"
"I need to go home, Rodney. There are people who depend on me."
"Stop right there. It is absolutely crucial that you reveal as few details as possible, or the future you end up in could be drastically unfamiliar to you. Who knows what you could change with just the tiniest slip of the tongue?"
The visitor’s gaze went to Elizabeth, then, only for a moment, but she noticed So did Dr. Beckett, and an increasingly uneasy Col. John Sheppard.
"All right, Doc Brown, we get it. Now how do we send McFly here back where he belongs?"
"It would be so much easier if this were a loop. We could just ask him how I did it before. Of course, that would assume you were paying attention, so—"
Elizabeth interrupted. "Since that doesn’t seem to be an option, Rodney, what’s next on the list?"
"We pore over gate telemetry and run simulations until we come up with something."
"And how long will that take?"
"Could be a day."
"Or?"
"Could be more than a day. I can’t give you an exact minute, It’s not like I’ve done this before."
"We should be aware," added Zelenka, "that the solar flare activity will only be in progress for another week, at the most, according to our current predictions."
"So if I don’t get out of here in a week, I’m screwed?"
McKay waved off Zelenka’s caution. "I’m certain we could find a way to simulate the flares’ electromagnetic effect on gate travel."
"Then why couldn’t you counter it so that this sort of thing couldn’t happen in the first place?" asked the colonel.
McKay blinked. "Well, we—Radek?"
"That is an excellent idea for next time."
"On that note…" Weir stood, and the rest followed her lead. "We should see about getting you some quarters, General."
"You can call me John, Elizabeth."
"That might get a little confusing."
"It ‘might get’ confusing? That’s very diplomatic of you. From where I’m standing it’s already confusing as hell."
"Good point." She smiled wryly. "Shall I call you John 1 and John 2, then?"
John 1—at least he thought he was John 1—frowned and interrupted their tête-à-tête. "Let’s stick to rank when we’re in the same room. That okay with you, General?"
"Fine with me. Does this mean I can give myself orders?"
Elizabeth grinned. "Is there any chance you’d obey?" she asked, and they both laughed.
"I’m not going to call myself ‘sir’," muttered the younger man. Those two were certainly getting cozy rather fast. Future Boy was still a little standoffish, but he looked at Elizabeth with a strange intensity, and now he was encroaching on her personal space like crazy. Did he always stand so close to her when they walked down the halls?
To be continued...NEVER!
familyarchivesI know you haven't been feeling well lately, so I thought this might offer you a moment of amusement. I found the notebook/journal that I used last summer, and in it is (drumroll please)...the only Atlantis fic I will ever (partially) write! If I'm remembering correctly, I believe this was inspired by a conversation between Tahlia and Little Red in one of their journals.
Note: all the technical jargony stuff and SG backgroundy canony stuff is complete bullshit b/c I don't really pay attention to details and I'm too lazy to research, especially for something that's written purely for my own enjoyment (where "enjoyment" means "must purge this from my head immediately").
John intercepted Elizabeth outside the mess, smiled easily, and fell into step beside her. He skipped 'good morning' and started the conversation in the middle; she didn't seem to mind. "So since these solar flares are gonna keep us from going offworld for a while, some of the men have requested a little R&R on the mainland..."
"Have they now? I assume you've run this by Teyla."
"She thinks it's a good opportunity for cultural exchange."
"Mmhm." She smirked a bit. "As long as that's all that's exchanged."
He feigned being taken aback by her innuendo. "Hey, my people are ladies and gentelmen. I can't vouch for all the marines..."
"Any chance of including a few civilians on this little excursion? It'd be a good chance to do some new ground surveys."
He nodded. "No reason it can't be a working vacation. So...you like camping?"
She stopped short. "Me? I--"
The sounding of the alarm covered her answer. "Unscheduled offworld activation! All senior personnel to the gate room. We have an incoming wormhole."
"Oh, crap," Sheppard said as they both ran for the transporter. "Control, this is Sheppard. Dr Weir and I are on our way. Have a security team standing by."
"Acknowledged, sir."
"How's the shield holding up?" Elizabeth asked over the comm.
"So far, so good, ma'am," came the voice of the gate technician.
"Looks like you might have to postpone your camping trip, John."
"Just when I thought it was going to be a nice, quiet week."
They ran into Dr. McKay rushing out of another transporter as they reached the command center. "We don't have any teams offworld, do we?"
"No," they both answered.
"Because I told you not to send any teams offworld during these solar flares. The consequences could be—"
"We said no, Rodney. Could the activiation be a glitch caused by the solar activity?" Elizabeth asked.
"I suppose it's possible, but it isn't likely." He went to a console and began furiously pushing buttons.
"We're definitely being dialed, ma'am," said the senior tech on duty.
"From where?" Sheppard asked. "Who even knows this address besides Earth?"
"I can't pinpoint the origin," said McKay. "The solar radiation is mucking up all sorts of things. But it's definitely coming from this galaxy." He stopped cold for a moment. "The Genii?" he asked, voicing both Weir and Sheppard's concern.
"Wait a second," the tech interrupted. "I'm getting an IDC. It's a little hard to read, but—"
"Yes, it's one of ours," Rodney confirmed.
"But we have no personnel offworld," Elizabeth reiterated. "If this is a ruse it's not a terribly clever one."
"Huh," said McKay.
"'Huh' what, Rodney?" asked Sheppard.
"Did you give out your locker combination to all your friends in high school?"
"What?"
"The IDC we're getting," explained the tech. "It's Col. Sheppard's."
"Huh," said Elizabeth.
"Well it isn't me," John said as they all stared at him. "I'm right here, see?"
"I have a bad feeling about this," Rodney muttered darkly.
"And you're usually such a Pollyanna about these things, McKay."
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "I'm inclined to agree with your bad feeling, Rodney. At the very least we have a security breach—"
"I didn't give out my IDC to anyone."
"Of course not. But we may have been hacked somehow. Until we know what's going on we keep the shield in place and wait for the wormhole to close. Agreed?"
Sheppard nodded. "Meanwhile, everybody on base gets a new IDC. I want the old ones wiped."
"On second thought," Elizabeth mused aloud.
"On second thought what?" John asked with trepidation.
"If we don't find out who's on the other side of that wormhole we may never know how someone got hold of your IDC. It could happen again."
"So you're saying we point a lot of guns at them and let ‘em through."
"It's one option."
"I can't say I'm not curious. But if a ship comes through there and strafes the command center, I'll wish I'd decided to live with the curiosity."
"Are you both forgetting the incredibly thorough and detailed briefing I gave you on why we don't permit gate travel during intense solar flare activity?"
"Sure, because it can redirect wormholes—"
"Through space and time, yes. What you're both failing to realize is that the most likely explanation for why it's Sheppard's IDC that's dialing in is that it is, in fact, Colonel Sheppard trying to come through the gate."
"Excuse me?"
Dr. Weir sighed. "Time travel."
"Completely accidental, but yes. SG1 once got sent thirty years into the past. Which you'd know if you'd paid any attention to my briefing."
"I remember, Rodney. It just sounded like one of those fluky things that only happens to O'Neill. So you're saying that's actually me out there."
"Well, it could be. It might be you from last week, or next month—"
"So what do you advise?"
"Oh. Yeah, just wait for the wormhole to close."
John rounded on McKay, alarmed. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Well we don't want to wreak havoc with the timeline, now do we?"
"So we're just going to leave me out there? What if I'm under fire? What if it's me from the past, and by not letting me through you're killing me?"
"Well then you wouldn't be here, so it's—"
A technician interrupted them. "We're getting another surge in the city's systems. I'm afraid the shield is about to—" Before he could finish the sentence, the barrier flickered and disappeared. "Incoming traveler!"
Sheppard moved the security team, weapons at the ready, into position around the gate. "Minimum safe distance!" He aimed his P-90 at the lone figure who ambled through.
"What took you guys so long? I was—"
"Hold it! Hands in the air."
The other man obeyed. It was obvious now that he was, or at least appeared to be, John Sheppard. Except he was at least a decade older, and he wasn't wearing the standard uniform of the Atlantis USAF personnel. He looked around the room, then returned his gaze to his perplexed double. "Oh, crap," he said.
"Remove your weapon, slowly, and slide it over to me."
As he did so, he asked, "Solar flares? Dammit, I was afraid something like this might happen." He started to step forward, but his younger self stopped him short. "Is that really necessary?" He frowned at himself.
"I'm afraid it is, at least until we're sure you are who you appear to be," said Weir as she came down the stairs toward the visitor. She smiled, though. It certainly seemed like Sheppard.
For his part, upon seeing her he stepped backward, his face filled with a shock he quickly tried to hide. "Elizabeth," he said, and John knew his throat was tight as he said it, no matter how casual he tried to make it sound. John looked curiously between his older self and Dr. Weir, and began to feel very uneasy. She seemed to have noticed the awkwardness, and her smile dimmed.
"Well…Colonel? We should get you to medical."
"General, actually. Retired."
Non-time-displaced Sheppard took a moment to feel smug—and surprised--about his promotion.
"Look, can't we just dial up my last location and send me back through? Avoid all this temporal hassle?"
"Uh, no," said McKay as he approached the newcomer. "And believe me, I'm not saying this because I'm thrilled at the prospect of having two of you hanging around. But we'd have no clue what timeframe you'd end up in, or even where you'd end up. Your best chance of getting back to where you belong is to stay here, where I can figure it out." He attempted to push his way through the security team, but was rebuffed. "Look, he's you. Do you think we could reduce the Rambo posturing just a tad?"
"Same old McKay. Good to see you, too, Rodney."
"What does that mean? Am I not in the future? Oh, god, am I dead? No, don't tell me! Whatever you do, don't tell me."
"Wasn't planning on it."
John reluctantly ordered the team to stand down, but assigned three marine guards to accompany their guest, himself, Elizabeth, and McKay to Beckett's lab. He kept his hand on his sidearm the whole time.
In the transporter, McKay began babbling about anomalies and paradoxes and temporal whosits, but neither Sheppard paid much attention. As deeply weirded out as he was, the younger John couldn't help staring at this future self. It was strange suddenly knowing where you were going to get your wrinkles, and just how your hair was going to gray "starting at the temples). At least he wasn't bald on top. He couldn't tell for sure because the jacket hid a lot, but he didn't think he'd developed a gut, either. In fact, this guy might even have been in better shape than he was now. He didn't know if this assuaged his vanity or bruised it. There was something hard about the guy all around, actually. It was a little worrying. He'd expected retirement to be relaxing. And Earthbound, for that matter.
"So. General, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
General Sheppard, arms crossed over his chest, seemed uninterested in conversation. What he did seem interested in, though he tried to be stealthy about it, was Elizabeth Weir. He focused on her end of the conversation she was having with McKay. He seemed to sense it whenever she moved; with every nod or gesture from her, his posture shifted slightly. John was pretty sure he was trying very hard not to turn around at stare at her, and that it was more than the armed guards that was stopping him.
John and Elizabeth stood outside the infirmary and watched Beckett draw blood from the other Sheppard to confirm his identity.
"Strange, isn't it?" she said sympathetically.
"Yeah, that's one word for it. I'm pretty sure I hate time travel. McKay'll find a way to send him back, right?"
"I hope so. I don't know if the city can survive two of you."
"Ha ha, Elizabeth."
In the lab, the other Sheppard turned around briefly and saw them. His eyes caught hers for an instant and then he quickly turned away. Elizabeth shivered.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes, I…I just got the strangest feeling when he looked at me. I'm sure it's nothing."
John was pretty sure it was something, but decided it was best to let her brush it aside until he had something definite to tell her.
"It’s probably just the weirdness of the whole situation. It must make you think about…you know." He wasn’t quite sure how to put it. "The other you."
"Yes, that’s probably it. When Carson is finished I’d like all three of you to come to my office. We’ll sit down with McKay and Zelenka and try to sort this all out."
"Okay."
She took one long last look and then walked away.
"So, General Sheppard, is it?"
"You can call me John, Carson."
"Well, John, shall we have a chat as we’re waiting for the results?"
"I can’t tell you anything about the future."
"Oh, I know, I know. Let’s start with the basics, then. How old are you?"
"Fifty-four."
"You’re in excellent condition."
"I work out. Is it done yet so I can get out of here? No offense, but I hate this place."
"You have spent a lot of time here in the infirmary, haven’t you?"
"More than you know."
A machine beeped behind Carson, who turned to check its display. "Well. It appears you really are John Sheppard."
"I’m so relieved."
Carson chuckled. "Frankly, I never doubted it for a minute. The rest of your bloodwork is clean, too."
"Good to know. I assume this means I can get these armed guards off me now? Not that you’re not doing a great job, guys," he said to the two marines at the door.
"I’m afraid that’s up to—well, you, really." Beckett signaled to Col. Sheppard with a thumbs up. The colonel entered the lab, asking, "And that means?"
"It means I’m you, so you can stop pointing guns at me."
"The DNA matched?"
"One hundred percent."
"And there’s no chance he’s an alien space monster who can mimic human DNA?"
"Well…I hadn’t thought of that, honestly,"
"Oh, for god’s sake. Your third grade teacher was Mrs. Hughes. The class hamster’s name was Jiffy. You had a crush on Kathleen Peranski and every day at recess you stole her lunchbox. One time in junior high you fell asleep in English class and—"
"Okay! Okay, fine, you’re me. No need to share that little anecdote with the world. We’re supposed to go up to Elizabeth’s office now to see if we can figure out how to send you back when you came from. Not that it isn’t a delight to have you around."
"Trust me, I’m not looking to stay. I need to get home."
"Let’s get to it, then." The two Sheppards headed for the door, as did the guards, who had not yet been dismissed, probably just in case of that whole ‘alien space monster’ possibility.
Dr. Beckett jumped ahead of them. "If I may have just another moment with the general, Colonel." The older man looked at him quizzically, while the younger Sheppard and the guards waited in the hall.
"What’s up, Carson?"
"John, I completely agree that you shouldn’t tell us anything about our future or possible future if you can help it."
"But?"
"To that end, you might want to remove your wedding ring."
Stunned for a brief second, John looked down at his left hand and winced. "Crap. I forgot all about it."
"You’ve been twisting it around the whole time you were sitting in the lab."
"Do you think she—do you think anyone saw?"
"I don’t know. Maybe not. Little things like that can escape notice, especially in the midst of such an unusual situation."
"Yeah. Thanks, Carson. I have your word you won’ tell anyone? I mean, it’s not a big deal, it’s just—"
"We’ll call it doctor-patient confidentiality."
John slapped his arm. "You’re a life-saver."
In Elizabeth’s office, McKay took full advantage of his opportunity to be the Guy Who Runs the Meeting Because He Knows the Most.
"The first thing we have to determine is whether or not we are in a time loop."
"And how do we do that?"
"When you were the Colonel’s age, did an older you come through the gate and annoy everyone?"
Both Sheppards rolled their eyes, and the older one answered, "No."
"Then probably not a loop."
"Unless he’s lying," added Zelenka. "Unless he’s telling us it’s not a loop in order to preserve the loop for some reason we can’t foresee."
"I was getting to that."
General Sheppard frowned. "I’m not lying."
"Let’s assume he isn’t lying," McKay continued, "because even if he is, it’s probably required that we assume he isn’t in order for us to play our parts in the loop, if we’re in a loop, which I really don’t think is the case. All right everyone?"
The younger John groaned and lowered his head to the table. "I was right. I hate time travel."
"What next, Rodney?" prompted Elizabeth.
"Does everything else seem familiar to you?" he asked their visitor. "You’ve read the reports, mission briefings, had a look around a bit?"
"Not thoroughly, but so far it’s just like I remember it."
McKay nodded. "Just as I thought." He addressed John—the usual one—directly. "Until today, when he stupidly stepped through that gate during solar flare activity roughly, what? Fifteen years from now? Anyway, until then, this man—"
"Don’t point at me, McKay."
"Was you. Or will be you. Whatever syntactical twist you want to put on it. His past was your future. Until today, when he created a whole new timeline by showing up here and now."
"But…" Elizabeth started slowly. "Wouldn’t that write over that version of our future, and his past? So then he wouldn’t exist to come back and disrupt the timeline in the first place…" She sighed. "I know I shouldn’t be so confused by this. This has happened to me. Sort of."
Zelenka stepped in. "The basic theory is that timelines sometimes diverge, creating alternate realities, rather than always writing over each other. But it can be difficult to tell the difference. SG1 has had some experience with this. The files are quite fascinating—"
"Wait. Are you guys saying that by accidentally showing up in my own past, which isn’t actually my past anymore since I showed up, that I changed his future, and my present no longer exists?"
McKay sighed in exasperation. "I see your listening skills haven’t improved significantly in fifteen years. That’s not what we’re saying at all. The fact that you didn’t ‘poof’ out of existence the moment you stepped through the event horizon indicates that somewhere—"
"Somewhen," Zelenka interjected helpfully.
"Oh, yes, Radek, that’s adorable, I’m sure."
"My timeline still exists. I can go back."
"I didn’t say that."
Across the table, Elizabeth rubbed at her brow. "Nevertheless, we’ll do our best to make it happen, won’t we, Rodney?"
"Well, of course, but—"
"I need to go home, Rodney. There are people who depend on me."
"Stop right there. It is absolutely crucial that you reveal as few details as possible, or the future you end up in could be drastically unfamiliar to you. Who knows what you could change with just the tiniest slip of the tongue?"
The visitor’s gaze went to Elizabeth, then, only for a moment, but she noticed So did Dr. Beckett, and an increasingly uneasy Col. John Sheppard.
"All right, Doc Brown, we get it. Now how do we send McFly here back where he belongs?"
"It would be so much easier if this were a loop. We could just ask him how I did it before. Of course, that would assume you were paying attention, so—"
Elizabeth interrupted. "Since that doesn’t seem to be an option, Rodney, what’s next on the list?"
"We pore over gate telemetry and run simulations until we come up with something."
"And how long will that take?"
"Could be a day."
"Or?"
"Could be more than a day. I can’t give you an exact minute, It’s not like I’ve done this before."
"We should be aware," added Zelenka, "that the solar flare activity will only be in progress for another week, at the most, according to our current predictions."
"So if I don’t get out of here in a week, I’m screwed?"
McKay waved off Zelenka’s caution. "I’m certain we could find a way to simulate the flares’ electromagnetic effect on gate travel."
"Then why couldn’t you counter it so that this sort of thing couldn’t happen in the first place?" asked the colonel.
McKay blinked. "Well, we—Radek?"
"That is an excellent idea for next time."
"On that note…" Weir stood, and the rest followed her lead. "We should see about getting you some quarters, General."
"You can call me John, Elizabeth."
"That might get a little confusing."
"It ‘might get’ confusing? That’s very diplomatic of you. From where I’m standing it’s already confusing as hell."
"Good point." She smiled wryly. "Shall I call you John 1 and John 2, then?"
John 1—at least he thought he was John 1—frowned and interrupted their tête-à-tête. "Let’s stick to rank when we’re in the same room. That okay with you, General?"
"Fine with me. Does this mean I can give myself orders?"
Elizabeth grinned. "Is there any chance you’d obey?" she asked, and they both laughed.
"I’m not going to call myself ‘sir’," muttered the younger man. Those two were certainly getting cozy rather fast. Future Boy was still a little standoffish, but he looked at Elizabeth with a strange intensity, and now he was encroaching on her personal space like crazy. Did he always stand so close to her when they walked down the halls?
To be continued...NEVER!
