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I'm in the middle of nowhere
Near the end of the line
But there's a border to somewhere waiting
And there's a tankful of time
Oh give me just another moment to see the light of the day
And take me to another land where I don't have to stay


***

He gets mad sometimes.

Frustrated.

He’s never really thought of himself as claustrophobic – this City is pretty damn big, really. – but the inability to go for a run in a straight line near a mountain or a forest eats away at him slowly until he’s running in circles through the corridors of the living quarters and generally pissing himself and everyone else off.

And they’ve only been there for two weeks.

Damnit.

John doesn’t say anything about his restlessness.

He goes on missions when necessary, he unpacks crates and boxes, he sets his own room up and is put in charge of stocking the armory. When he’s not working, eating or sleeping, he runs in circles and misses the wide-open spaces of the American Countryside.

Other planets aren’t the same – they really don’t have time for him to be running around aimlessly anyway – and they haven’t had the time or the means to check out the mainland yet.

It won’t be the same, though, the grass – is it even called grass in the Pegasus Galaxy? – wont feel the same, the trees will be different, the mountains will be unfamiliar and it will all just be wrong. Even the air that he breathes now feels different.

John curses the sentimentality.

It’s stupid, irrational and completely insignificant, but it eats away at him along with the desire to see something green and familiar.

All within 14 days.

And no way home.

He is so screwed.

McKay makes a comment in passing, something about him needing to find something more than War And Peace to occupy himself with, but no one else seems to notice the cloud of discontent that has settled over him, for which John is grateful.

Elizabeth Weir, however, is possibly the most perceptive leader that he’s ever known.

She calls him to her office one evening after dinner. And that is a little too remnant of his High School days and the principle’s office.

An empty plate and glass rest beside her and John can’t help but think that she really ought to stop working herself so hard. He doesn’t say anything, though, she wouldn’t appreciate his scrutiny adding to the pressure of setting up the city.

Sitting in the chair across from her, John studies the woman before him. Attractive – probably too attractive to him – intelligent, diplomatic, caring. All the traits of a good leader.

She looks tired, but he doesn’t know her well enough yet to say if that’s a bone-deep exhaustion clouding her features of it’s just another sleepless night in a strange bed, room, city, planet, galaxy.

“Bored?” John gives her credit, she doesn’t beat around the bush.

It’s only fair that he replies in kind. “Extremely.”

“I assume the armory is set up?”

“Yes.” It was done in a day.

“And you’ve run as many laps through the living quarters as you can?”

He’s a little embarrassed that she knows about that, but her sweet smile dispels that feeling quickly. “Pretty much. It gets boring.”

“I can imagine.” And she smiles again. “You could always help McKay finish organizing his Lab.”

John would rather eat his own eyeballs with a blunt spoon. He suspects that she knows that. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Very diplomatic. We’ll have to find something that will keep you amused.” She laughs now and suddenly John has a multitude of ideas on how to keep himself amused. Most of them involve her red shirt being thrown over various pieces of furniture. “You have a suggestion, Major?”

“No.”

“Think you’ll be able to find something to do now?”

Ooooooh yeah. “Yes. Thanks.”

“I hope I was helpful.” Is she flirting with him?

John Sheppard has just realized that it’s going to get very interesting working with her.

And he can’t wait.


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