John Sheppard stood in front of the bedroom mirror and sighed as he reached up and adjusted the bow-tie of his tux for what felt like the thousandth time. He had never felt very at ease in formal wear, usually preferring his nice, comfortable BDU’s over most anything else. He gave himself another once over in the mirror, sighed again, and decided that, as far as his attire for the evening was concerned, it was as good as it was going to get. His gaze traveled upwards and he frowned at the wild state of his black hair.

John reluctantly reached for a comb. He had given up trying to control his hair a long, long time ago, but he felt obligated by the occasion to at least attempt to make it lay flat.

A very short time later he realized it wasn’t working. Each time he ran the comb through it, his hair just seemed to find twenty new directions to stick out in.

He heard gentle laughter behind him, and turned around to glare accusingly at his wife. Elizabeth was standing in the bathroom door of their hotel room, smiling fondly at him, two year old Emily, the youngest of their two children, slung across one hip. She had finished getting ready, and John couldn’t help but take a moment to stare admiringly at her. She looked beautiful. She was dressed in an elegant floor length gown of deep crimson, garnets dangling from her ears, and the silver necklace he had given her years ago clasped around her neck. Her brown curls had been artfully gathered and piled on top of her head, except for two spiraling strands that had been allowed to fall free and gently frame her face.

Her green eyes sparkled with amusement as she crossed the room. “I don’t know why you’re even bothering,” she said. “You know it’s never going to stay.”

He turned back to the mirror, abandoning the comb and digging out a bottle of hair gel. “Well, I can at least say I tried.” He squirted a generous amount of the gel onto his palm and began to try and slick down the errant strands, Elizabeth and Emily standing at his shoulder, watching him in the mirror. Emily appeared fascinated by her father’s activities, staring at John’s head as he rubbed in the gel.

Deciding he had used enough, John ran a hand over his hair one last time and stepped back to examine the effect in the mirror. ‘There,’ he thought. ‘Not half bad. Not half bad at all.’ He turned to Elizabeth and held out his arms. “Ta da. What do you think?”

“It looks fine,” she said. “Although it doesn’t really...” She glanced at his head and trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to hold in laughter.

“What?” he asked in confusion, wheeling around to look in the mirror. He immediately saw the cause of her amusement. His carefully plastered down hair was now sticking back up again, apparently having decided to ignore both the laws of gravity and the binding chemical structure of the hair gel. He glared at his reflection and reached up to flatten it all out again. The minute he took his hand away, he watched as each individual cow lick slowly unstuck itself and resumed its normal vertical position on his head.

He gave a small growl, and jammed his hand down on the disobedient hair, trying to force it to cooperate.

It didn’t.

Emily evidently thought this was hilarious and let out a peal of laughter, clapping her little hands delightedly. Surprised, John looked down at his daughter, his frustration melting away at the sight of her beaming young face, already so much like her mother’s that he sometimes called her Lizzie. He smiled, bringing his hand up and pressing down on the upright portion of his shock of hair. He released it. “Bwooiiinng,” he said as it sprang back into place.

Emily laughed elatedly. She stretched as far as she could in her mother’s arms until she could reach the top of John’s head and pushed down on the black fringe. She lifted her hand. “Boooiiing,” she imitated in her high pitched voice, then burst into shrieks of delighted laughter. She did it again. “Boooiiing.”

Both John and Elizabeth started laughing as well, infected with the pure energy of their daughter’s contagious happiness. Across the room, where he had been quietly sitting on the bed coloring, four year old Connor finally looked up at his family. “Hey! What are you guys laughing at?”

“Connor, look!” commanded Emily. She showed him what she had just discovered. ‘Boooiiing’ went John’s hair again. The little boy laughed and scrambled across the bed towards them.

“ Can I do it?” he asked excitedly.

Elizabeth looked at John and laughed at the look on his face. “I think you’ve started something,” she said.

John gave her a long-suffering look and bent to pick up the eager toddler. “Okay,” he said, “but only once. Hey, carefully!” he said as Connor prepared to slam his fist down on his father’s head. “Careful. It’s hair, not a football helmet.”

“ ‘Kay, Daddy. Can I do it now?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Go ahead.”

Bwooiiiinng. More joyous laughter.

Connor pulled back and looked at his hand amazedly. “Daddy, your hair’s all sticky!”

Elizabeth saw the thrilled look on her son’s face at this discovery and decided it was time to intervene. “ Okay, that’s enough playing with Daddy’s hair. Time to go wash our hands now.” She set Emily on the floor, John doing the same with Connor. She took their hands and led them towards the bathroom, being careful to keep the sticky fingers away from her dress. “And time for Daddy to come wash his hair again,” she called over her shoulder with a smile.

John heard running water come on and Elizabeth’s voice giving muffled instructions to the children. He smiled to himself, marveling at his good fortune, and gingerly took off the jacket of his tux and his shirt, going through a painstakingly difficult process to avoid getting them covered in hair gel. He went into the bathroom where small hands were just being dried, turned on the faucet, and stuck his head under the stream of cold water.

“Alright,” he heard Elizabeth tell the kids, “Uncle Daniel and Aunt Vala are coming over soon to look after you guys while we’re gone. You have to be on your best behavior, okay?”

“Okay,” they promised.

“Good.”

“Mommy, where are you and Daddy going, and why can’t we come?” asked Connor.

“We’re going to go see Uncle Rodney get a very special award,” she answered. “One he’s been waiting for for a very long time. And you can’t come because you’re not quite old enough just yet.”

“Oh.” Connor looked sad for a grand total of three seconds before saying ‘Okay’ brightly and leaving the room, towing his sister behind him.

John had rinsed out all the gel, and was busy scrubbing his head dry with a fluffy white towel. He finished, laid the towel aside, and retrieved his shirt and jacket from where he had lain them on the bed in the other room. Elizabeth straightened up from kneeling on the floor once he had his shirt buttoned, and began to move to help him tie the irritating bow-tie once again. But she was stopped before she got all the way there by a small hand gently tugging on her gown. She looked down at her daughter, who had inherited John’s jet black hair, the wildness manifesting itself in a head full of abundant curls. “Yes sweetie, what is it?”

“Look pretty, Mommy,” she said shyly, then turned and left to rejoin her brother. Elizabeth smiled and stepped in front of her husband, taking over the knot tying process from him. She glanced up at him and found him smiling charmingly at her, a sparkle in his hazel eyes.

“What?” she laughed.

“I agree with Emily. Mommy looks very pretty indeed.”

Elizabeth only smiled wide, looking pleased, and finished tying the bow-tie, neatly pulling it straight at the corners, then stepped back. John shrugged into his jacket, buttoned it, and ran a hand over his hair, the water keeping it flat. He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. She smiled and said facetiously, “And you know, you don’t look absolutely horrible yourself.” He grinned and kissed her.

“I’m glad you finally gave up on that hair gel,” she said a minute later, winding her arms around his neck. “A John Sheppard whose hair lies flat... he just isn’t quite the same man.”

“Are you saying that you wouldn’t love me anymore if my hair didn’t stick up?” he said playfully.

“Oh, maybe,” she teased, a brilliant smile on her face.

“Fair enough,” he said, then smirked. “After all, the hair is an essential part of my boundless charm.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” she said coyly, then grinned and gave him a quick kiss before freeing herself from his arms. “We need to get going. Rodney will kill us if we’re late.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agreed, following her into the bedroom. “And we’d have to worry about Jennifer too. If we missed him getting the Nobel Prize, she’d most likely poison us the next time we have a physical.” At that minute there was a knock on the door.

“Ah, good, they’re here.” Elizabeth collected her evening purse and wrap and went to open the door for their babysitters, greeting them with smiles and hugs. Daniel Jackson and his wife walked into the room and said hello to John.

“Hi, Aunt Vala!” said Connor.

“Hello, Sheppard Jr.!” Vala kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed next to the children. She looked up at John and Elizabeth. “Well, don’t you have some place to be? Go on, shoo, you’re not wanted here.”

The couple laughed, kissed Connor and Emily goodnight, and headed out the door. “Have fun!” called Daniel as he shut the door behind them.

They walked hand in hand down the empty hallway towards the elevator. John pressed the down button, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited. Suddenly there was a laugh beside him. He turned to find Elizabeth looking at him. “What’s so funny?”

Her eyes were bright with merriment as she raised her hand to the side of her head and lifted one finger. “Bwooiiiinng,” she said. He quickly took a few steps to the side and looked into the mirror hanging conveniently on the wall. His hair had dried out and was it’s usual forest of cow licks once again. He gave her an unamused look and she burst out laughing. The lift dinged and the doors slid open. John glanced in the mirror again and shook his head hopelessly, giving a small smile as he followed his still laughing wife into the elevator.