Spoiler:- Enemy at the Gate

Pairing:- None

Rating: -T language and physical abuse

Disclaimer: - I don't own Stargate Atlantis. It would be still on the air if I did.

Mending Fences

Part 1:- The Road to Nowhere

The overhead sun beamed down relentlessly in an attempt to heat up the small confines of his car. John swept a hand across his forehead to wipe away the perspiration. He'd forgotten just how darn hot the summers could get in North America.

Without warning, the old truck in front of him suddenly hissed and screeched as its air brakes engaged. John had to slam his foot down hard to avoid a collision. Oblivious to the near miss and without signaling, the old vehicle slowed to a crawl as it laboriously made its way into a gas station amid a cloud of dust and fumes. As a departing gift, the vehicle's exhaust gave one final belch, spewing out an obnoxious blue cloud which assaulted John's nose and throat.

He really wanted to stop too, but the fact that he'd finally gotten rid of the menacing, smoke polluting vehicle made him floor the V8 engine of his rented Chevy Corvette convertible as soon as he'd cleared the truck's taillights.

John coughed the last of the diesel fumes from his lungs and adjusted his sunglasses. He should have kept the roof up, but it was a beautiful day and although vehicle had a fully automatic air con, the slight breeze that blew over him from time to time had been welcome. Welcome that was until he'd been stuck behind the damn truck for the last five miles, unable to pass because of oncoming vehicles.

He spared a glanced to the fuel gauge noting that he had enough gasoline for at least another forty miles or so, but some coffee and a snack would have made a welcome break. At least now that the truck was gone, he had a clear view of the road ahead as it stretched towards a distant mountain range and, according to the GPS navigation system, the next town with a gas station. Of course, once the truck was gone, the oncoming traffic mysteriously disappeared.

John exhaled noisily. He'd forgotten just how frustrating driving could be at times, so he questioned his good sense. Asking himself what hell he was doing going nowhere other than eastwards and further away from Atlantis, which was still sitting cloaked in the bay of San Francisco. His city and home was currently undergoing repairs while her fate was being pushed around a table. But what displeased John the most was the fact that he hadn't been asked to participate in those all important talks.

Another sigh escaped John's lips as he adjusted his speed to keep the convertible within to the road's 55 mph speed limit. Then he engaged the cruise control and let his mind drift back a couple of days.

Leaning on the railing of the control room's outside balcony John watched intently as a seabird passed harmlessly through the cloak to settle on a building near the south pier. He stood mesmerized for a minute just watching as another bird flew towards the first. With a small smile, he made to turn around but the door whooshed open and Mr. Woolsey walked over to join him.

John acknowledged his boss with a quick glance and then pointed to the distant building. "We've only been here a few days and the local bird population has already taken a liking to the city's towers. I just hope there aren't any enthusiastic bird watchers out there wondering why the heck their birds keep disappearing into thin air."

Woolsey nodded. "Yes, let's hope that isn't the case." Then he cleared his throat loudly, John turned to face him with a frown. The man seemed a little edgy. "Colonel we…err…need to talk about your R&R."

"My what?"

"Your leave."

"Yes, I know that but this really isn't the time for me to…"

Woolsey held up a hand. "I know what you're going to say. You believe that your place is here and it most certainly is. However, your presence during the preliminary talks isn't at all necessary so why don't you take yourself off on a very well earned vacation." The last word was followed by the patented Woolsey smile.

John opened his mouth to protest but once again Woolsey beat him to it. "Colonel, the city will be in good hands. Believe me when I say that I will fight every inch of the way to ensure that Atlantis is returned to her rightful place in the Pegasus Galaxy. You will just have to trust me on this one."

John nodded, he did trust Woolsey, but he still didn't like the fact that he was being excluded. "You know, I don't really need any…rest and recuperation. I mean it wasn't that long ago since Ronon and I had that camping trip."

Mr. Woolsey nodded. "And if my memory serves me rightly that trip was cut short when you had to return to Atlantis because Ronon had a reptile bite that was turning septic. Oh, and you failed to tell Marie that you had been stung by an insect."

"I didn't notice. I was too worried about Ronon."

"I'm sure you were but your insect sting turned out to be just as dangerous as Ronon's bite. So I think you would agree with me when I say…that was no vacation. And if you're thinking of taking the matter up with your superiors, don't bother. The orders come directly from them anyway."

John scowled and decided he couldn't let the matter of his enforced R and R rest with Woolsey. Out of desperation, he reluctantly took the issue up with General Landry. The General smiled at him over the video connection and then effectively ordered him to take a whole two weeks off, leaving John with the distinct feeling that they really didn't want him around. So he finally had to relent.

He had hoped that his team or at least some of them would be going with him. That illusion was quickly squashed.

Firstly it turned out that the IOA weren't allowing Teyla's family to go anywhere beyond Atlantis. It seemed that they still didn't trust Kanaan and Teyla didn't want to leave him or her son behind for such a long period. Which was quite understandable but nevertheless, John still felt a twinge of disappointment at not being able to show Teyla around.

Ronon being Ronon declared himself fit but Keller stepped in stating that he was far from fit enough to undergo any kind of journey or Sheppard style adventures. Ronon resisted at first but Amelia flashed him a smile and hinted that maybe they could see a little of her homeland once he was fit enough. It didn't take Ronon long to give in.

Rodney was a lost cause from the beginning, not that John wanted to spend a whole two weeks alone with him anyway. Somehow his workaholic friend had managed to wangle his way onto the team assigned to assess the damage done to Area 51 or at least that's what he was telling everyone. John suspected otherwise when he overheard Rodney making travel plans with Jennifer. What the heck Keller saw in McKay still had John truly puzzled. Not that he was jealous of their relationship or anything as Keller certainly wasn't his type. It was just that by the end of the matter, John was left feeling very much like the odd man out. Meaning, he had no choice but to set out on his own.

Staying in California to surf had been one option but in the end he decided to spend some quality time with his brother. However despite trying to call Dave at home and leaving messages, his brother failed to contact him.

So John hired the convertible and set out on a self-imposed road trip, mainly to kill a bit of time and get reacquainted with America. If Dave eventually contacted him, he planned to drive to the nearest airport and undergo the rest of the journey to Maryland by plane.

A powerful gust of wind brought John back to the present. It caught his hair, making the front locks stand upright to match the ones at the back in their fight against gravity. John swept his hand across his head to try and keep it down, a totally useless gesture.

Still fighting with his hair, John was caught by surprise when an old Ford Thunderbird sped by him, nearly cutting him up. He hit the breaks to avoid another collision and watched as the vehicle raced away in a cloud of dust. Hope the highway patrol gets him. The incident left John feeling really frustrated. He longed to drive faster than the roads allowed limit, but in his position it wouldn't look good if a patrol car pulled him over for speeding. However, he didn't reengage the cruise control. Instead, John reached over to switch on the radio. The loud clang of some trash metal band assaulted his ears, so he quickly pushed the auto search button until the softer tones of country and western could be heard. Pushing the select button, he readjusted his sunglasses and settled back to enjoy the music.

Five miles up the road, John grinned as he drove by the old Ford. It seemed that justice sometimes worked, as the vehicle had been pulled over by a cop.

Of course, sometimes John's complacency was known to bite him in the ass because some twenty minutes later, John glanced in his rear-view mirror to see the unwelcome slight of blue and red flashing lights. Knowing that the patrol vehicle wanted him to pull over, John obediently stopped and watched in his side mirror as a podgy, middle-aged officer cautiously approached his vehicle with gun drawn.

"Okay…keep your hands where I can see them." The man requested.

John did as he was told. "What's the problem, officer?"

"My problem is drivers who don't stick to the speed limits around these parts. You're the fourth today."

John was puzzled as he didn't think he'd been speeding. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

"That's what everyone claims but you just drove by my handy little radar gun doing 60 in a 55 mile per hour zone. Now, I'd be grateful if you'd kindly get out of your vehicle, allow me to pat you down and then show me your drivers permit and ID."

John sighed, hoping that he wasn't about to encounter an overzealous cop. He simply couldn't comprehend why the man was making such a fuss over 5 mph. He certainly needed to talk his way out of this one, so he carefully eased the door open and moved towards the trunk. Placing his hands flat on the surface, he allowed the officer to pat him down for weapons. When the man was satisfied, John handed over the requested items.

The cop visibly relaxed when he looked at John's ID. Holstering his gun, he said. "All right, seeing as I have great respect for our military and seeing as you weren't going that fast, I'm not going to issue you a ticket this time around but I will ask you to kindly watch your speedometer in future."

John nodded. "I will."

"You just make sure that you do. Nice car by the way."

"It's a rental."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind owning one of them. Home on leave, are you?"

John figured he'd better play nice with the officer but he really wasn't in the mood for small talk. "Yep…but I can't say where from." He was going to say, or I'd have to kill you, but thought better of it for his own safety.

"Iraq?"

John shrugged and made to move back into his car when a question came to him. "The next town's not far from here, is it?"

"A couple of miles up this road. Bracton's little more than a one horse town but at least it's got a gas station and a diner. And if you need a place to stay there's the Sundown Motel owned by Joe Wright. A real friendly guy and his rooms are clean. His wife Annie makes sure of that." John wanted to thank the officer but the man wasn't quite finished. "Oh, one word of advice, don't cross Sheriff Richards. He's a good man but he comes down real hard on traffic offenders. So when you drive through his town, you drive nicely."

John nodded and was just about to get back into his car when the old Ford Thunderbird drove by at a very reasonable speed, probably due to presence the patrol car. John could see two rough looking occupants pointing and laughing at him. For some reason, the action concerned him. They looked like trouble.

The drive to Bracton didn't take long, although the couple of miles turned out to be more like five. John had thankfully seen the Ford turn off onto a dirt track several miles before the town.

Bracton looked pleasant enough, situated on in a valley leading to some impressive looking mountains. The town's welcome sign was clear and bright as it announced, 'Population of 1763. Please drive carefully and have a nice stay.' The Main Street comprised of wooden houses and businesses. Several wide tree lined avenues branched off with similar looking properties. All very neat and tidy.

John didn't know if he wanted to stay or not. It was only 18.00 hours, but he'd been driving for most of the day and was feeling kind of weary. So after filing up, he checked the GPS system to see how far the next place was. It turned out to be another forty miles. A bit too far, so he drove off towards the Sundown Motel, which was just a block away from the gas station. He'd get a room first and then find a coffee shop or maybe a diner as he was feeling kind of hungry.

The motel was a neat looking place with a couple of rows of single storey blue and white painted units. John pulled up in front of the office, threw his sunglasses onto the passenger seat, and went in.

The office was deserted but the desk sported a rather large brass bell. John hit it harder than he should have, causing a very loud clang.

A few minutes later, a middle aged man with a kindly face and receding hairline entered. "Hi there. You want a room?"

"Yeah, for one night."

"Okay." The man answered, pushing a registration card towards John. "Just fill this out please."

John looked at it. It needed full name and address. He couldn't very well write care of the City of Atlantis, San Francisco Bay, so he would have to opt for Peterson Air force base but before he wrote anything, he queried. "Do I really need to fill all this out?"

"Afraid so. The council and the sheriff's office like to keep a good record of our visitors."

John nodded and started to fill out the necessary items before realizing something. "Oh…I didn't even ask you how much it will cost." He certainly wasn't used to being back on Earth yet.

"Well, you're in luck because we're a lot cheaper than some of those big motel groups. Not that Bracton's got one of those, thank god. It'll cost you 59 plus tax."

"Fine." John finished filling out the details and pushed it towards the proprietor along with his credit card.

As the man processed the payment he glanced at the registration card. "Oh my, we don't get many Air Force colonels through here. What brings you out this way?"

John still wasn't in the mood for small talk. All he really wanted to do was get settled in and get something to eat. "Just passing through. Could you please let me have the key and tell me where the best place to eat is?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'll give you the directions in a minute." The proprietor made to move towards the case containing some keys, but he stopped midway and turned back to look at John. "You know we have a son in the army. He's stationed in Iraq at the moment. You ever been there?"

John was just about to lie when a pleasant looking woman of about fifty or so entered from the back. "Joe will you stop talking the man to death and give him his key. I'm sorry, Mr…," She looked at the card and smiled up at John, "Oh…you're a colonel. My husband likes to tell everyone about our Joey. So you being military and all…."

John smiled back. He was beginning to like these folks. "That's alright. Maybe when I'm feeling a little less hungry."

Happy to hear that, Joe finally reached over for a key but his wife slapped his hand before reaching for another one. "The Colonel can have unit 10. It's got a nice big king sized bed, refrigerator and microwave." John took the key from her wondering why he would need those appliances for just one night but he wasn't going to quibble. "The room is at the far end of this row," she continued. "You can park right outside. If you want a decent meal then go to Mike's eatery on Main Street. They do the best steaks and salads in town."

Thanking her, John smiled and left. The minute he was out of earshot, Annie turned to her husband and said. "Now that's one fine looking fella but somehow he seems a little lost and lonely." Joe looked at her and shook his head. Not understanding his wife and her perceptions, one bit.

The room was typical for a motel but it looked clean and cozy. Although, the flowery printed bedspread and drapes were way too feminine for John's tastes.

After carrying his stuff in from the car, he flopped down on the bed. It was large enough to sleep three people. John smiled as he thought about his short bed back in his quarters on Atlantis. Maybe he should shop for a larger bed before they left Earth. Thinking about Atlantis made him feel incredibly homesick which was really crazy as he'd only been away from the city for a few days. Nevertheless, he reached for his iphone to see if anyone had left any messages. Not one, not even from Dave. Abruptly, a real sense of loneliness swept through him, leaving him feeling depressed and miserable.

Lying back, John closed his weary eyes and endeavored to clear his mind of all thoughts of Atlantis. It worked a little, although a deep sense of isolation still persisted. He felt more like a fish out of water here than at any other point in the past five years. Even a Wraith Hive ship seemed more like home, which was ludicrous to think like that. So why was he finding the adjustment to being back on Earth so hard this time around? After all he'd been back a number of times over the last four years.

He thought back to the last time and his father's Wake. What had been so different about that? After all, he'd gone back to a house that he hadn't seen for years. Then two very clear reasons registered. No time to think about it because of the need to remove the Replicator and most significant of all, Ronon's companionship. So was that his main problem now? Was he simply missing his friends or the need for action? Maybe it was combination of both or a kind of withdrawal symptom for simply not having anything to do. Boy was he one mixed up adrenaline junky if that was the case. John knew that he needed to get a grip on his emotions or he'd end up needing a shrink. So he ordered himself to buck up and make the best of it.

Just then his stomach grumbled loudly reminding him of his bodies need for food. He rose and moved to the bathroom in order to shower and freshen up for the evening. The room sported a large mirror. John switched on the overhead light and starred at his reflection. The dark shadows under his eyes made his face look older. He was tired but that didn't entirely account for the ashen look, and before he knew it, his thoughts had drifted again.

Was it really only a week since he'd fought to save Earth from the Wraith Hive? He had expected to die that day. Die to save folks like Joe and his wife. And yes, it would have been worth it, but Atlantis swooping in at the last minute and saving the day had somewhat taken the edge off his effort. Not that he was ungrateful or anything but he felt cheated somehow, almost let down. Which was crazy. He and his team were alive because of their intervention.

John glared at his reflection. Boy did he need to pull himself together and relax. He should go out and hit the town. Have a few drinks and maybe find someone to talk to about mundane things, like the weather, the latest movies, football and all that.

So he hit the shower, shaved off his two day old stubble, splashed on some decent aftershave, and tamed his hair as best he could. Putting on a casual blue shirt with his best dark blue jeans, John looked in the mirror and nodded with approval. He was looking better already. "Let's go and have some fun," he muttered to himself.

Of course, fun in Bracton wasn't that easy to find. The police officer had been right when he described the place as a bit of a one horse town. There were a couple of seedy looking bars near the restaurant where John had eaten a reasonably satisfying meal but he didn't fancy going into any of them.

John looked at his watch. The sun had set a while ago but it was still way too early for bed. So he decided to go and buy a few beers, and maybe some snacks to take back to his room to watch a bit of TV. So driving off, he headed towards a small convenient store that he'd seen earlier, hoping that it was still open.

Rachel Blake owner of Bracton's smallest grocery store watched as a tall dark stranger entered her shop. She weighed him up as he moved through the aisles, firstly picking up a six pack of Bud, then some Pringles and a packet of nuts. Rachel sighed as he approached her cash, now here was one good looking guy.

"Hi," she greeted. John gave her a small smile in return but didn't say anything as she cashed up his purchases.

"That will be 9.86 please."

John fished in his wallet to pull out a ten dollar bill, noting that he was getting a little low on cash. Meaning, he would need to find an ATM tomorrow.

Rachel took his money and handed him his change. "You need a carrier for that?"

"No thanks, my cars just outside." John flashed another smile before picking up his stuff and leaving. Rachel watched him go, kicking herself for being usually shy.

As John walked to his car he felt the same way. What was up with him? Had he been out of the game for so long now that he'd forgotten how to flirt or even make small talk with a woman who wasn't ascended or hadn't kidnapped him for his gene?

Obviously Atlantis hadn't been a very good influence on his love life. What between the women under his command, the geeky scientists, and the botanist who completely ignored him, there certainly hadn't been much opportunity for romance.

Sighing, he dumped the beer and snacks onto the passenger seat and was just about to start the motor when the old Ford Thunderbird pulled up to stop on the other side of the parking lot. John glanced in his side mirror and watched as the two individuals he'd seen earlier got out and entered the shop. Concerned for the female owner who seemed to be on her own, John decided to stick around for a while. At least until they left.

His cell phone suddenly rang making his delay legitimate. John went to answer, hoping it was Dave and felt a little disappointed when it turned out to be McKay. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear from Rodney, but he was beginning to wonder where the heck his brother was at.

"Hi Rodney, what's up?"

"What do you mean what's up? Can't I phone you without something being…up?"

Great start John - it seemed he couldn't even talk to his friends now. "That's not what I meant. It's just that you usually call when you have something to complain about or…do you want my help?" John asked brightly, somehow hoping that Rodney's answer would be a resounding - yes.

"What? No…I don't want your help. Things are fine here."

John felt a twinge of disappointment. "Okay. So this is just a social call then?"

"Not quite. The…err…the chair will take months to repair, if it's at all possible. I'm reluctantly leaving that assignment in the hands of lesser sci…carpenters."

John smiled at Rodney's sensible, all be it late, cover up. After all they were on an open phone line. "So it really could be a right off then?"

"Yes, but it was made of very strong…wood…you know. The house was completely destroyed but that particular piece of furniture survived, although it resembles a chewed dog bone at the moment."

"Not much hope then. So what's your next project going to be?"

"A trip up to Chippewa Falls to visit Jennifer's dad."

"Meeting pops already, huh? Must be serious."

"What! Just because we're going to see her father doesn't mean we're getting married or anything!"

John smiled, McKay was so predictable. "Alright, if you say so. Well have a great time." John went to press the disconnect button but Rodney wasn't finished.

"Wait a minute before you cut me off and I know that's what you were about to do, but where are you at?"

John sighed. He really didn't want to go into this. "Someplace called Bracton and no…I haven't heard anything from Dave yet, and yes…I'm beginning to regret driving. I kind of forgot how tedious it can be." Especially on your own, John thought, but he did say that.

"What no hot dates yet?"

For some reason, John glanced towards to store. The two men were still inside and John grew concerned. "Rodney, I've been on the road for two days so there hasn't exactly been time for dating. Have to go now. Bye."

Switching off, he tucked his iphone back into his pocket and reached into the glove box. His service weapons were all back in Atlantis but as a precaution, he had a small pistol with him. He quickly tucked it into his waistband before pulling his shirt over the top to hide it. Getting out, he moved towards the shop.

tbc