#this information was something we should've all seen coming let's not be oblivious please

[eightsixtiism]

the ones who actually have the worst parasocial relationship with a driver are max fans. but since this site is infested with so many of them who all validate each other's weird obsession with verstappen, they're never going to realise just how dumb they look

[themotherofblood]

A Promising Grown Man

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Tears of Gold AU

A/N: I wanted to touch this subject for a while now.

tw: stocklohm sydromish.

“Husband?” You entered the Hand’s chambers before knocking on the door twice. Tywin as usual had called for you, seemingly either to lecture you, simply speak with you or linger in your company or fuck you. Right now you were leaning toward the latter of the subject considering in a few moons, you and your husband wouldn’t be able to take on full liberties with one another.

He as usual was scribbling away, plotting away or making reparations yet again. Though you didn’t miss the way his lit up as he saw you enter the room, your bump had started to be more prominent at four moons, though this time the Maesters were certain it was an only child rather than twins. Nonetheless, you prayed night and day that it would be a girl.

“Are you feeling any better?” His deep voice sounded like music to your ears.

“I am, the sugared water helped. I am happy we get another but gods I can do without feeling ill all the time.” You replied, rounding his table to lean against it as he hummed at your answer, letting his hand fall on your bump before pressing a kiss to it.

The royal wedding was in a fortnight, most of the court was in frenzy and so were you. Preparing dozens of bed chambers at a time and then your husband insisted on you knowing every lord or lady invited by their name. Most had come to watch the boy king get married but a small part of you feared what many might think of you. For the last two years, only the members of the court had seen you and you weren’t oblivious to the mockery people made of your marriage. You were sure after your husband sided they would even write an absurd song to commemorate it.

There was something to look forward to however, your uncle Dorian would be visiting for the wedding. You had written for Myrcella to be brought along as well, but she was out sailing with your cousin.

Ah, how that could have been you.

“I have to leave to greet the oncoming guests.” You pouted at your husband who merely smiled at your antics

“Tyrion has already seen to it, I do not want you moving around too much.” While to many this would have been a mere gesture of care, Tywin was terrified; he’d never let it show but a sick superstitious part of him feared the birth of a third child. He would do anything to protect you from the horrors that plagued his dreams every so often. So he spent hours doting on you, loving your body behind the protection of the chamber walls. People noticed it too, him helping you downstairs; yelling at royal staff for the right menu to be made for you. Most of all, he wanted to whisk you away to Castley Rock, behind the gold-drawn lines; you’d be the safest.

His hate for King’s Landing was something you were very aware of as he poured his history out to you in bed one night.

“I’ve heard you and the mad king were true friends.” You whispered against your husband's chest.

“We were…” He replied as his fingers drew patterns on your shoulder

“What…what happened.” You hesitantly asked him, moving your head to look up at him.

“He wanted something that belong to me.” He replied cryptically

“…and he paid heavily for it.”

You instinctively found your fingers combing through his hair, “Myrcella couldn’t come, she stayed back to help Dorian.” You informed him.

“Cersei is not going to be pleased.”

You hummed, placing yourself on his lap. There was an ever-impending tension within you. This was the first time your people would see you after your marriage, your uncle and his bannermen. You grew up with these people and not a single person was pleased with the union; no one blamed you. They all knew it was your father’s doing.

“We have to leave,” Tywin whispered as his hands tightened around you.

“Just a little longer…” You whined against him, not wanting to let go yet. It would be a day-long of his stoic demeanour, you just wanted your husband for a few moments. Not the lord Hand.

Surely the time came as his squire and your handmaiden came to receive you. The two of you had dressed early anyways; so it only seemed fitting if you’d leave together.

The royal gardens were bustling with lords and ladies from all over the country, most fawning over the about-to-be Queen and her boy king fiancé. Tywin remained near Joffrey the whole time to keep his behaviour in check, you rounded the garden with Sansa at arm's length and a glass of lemonade. Most people congratulated you on your child, and couldn’t wait to meet your sons. Vultures, every single one of them.

Tyrion then made an appearance, and behind him followed the man you were dying to meet again. Your uncle. Tywin spotted Oberyn first, and while you wanted to run up and engulf him, your husband motioned you to come to him. You hesitated but caved nonetheless, taking your husband by the arm as he led you to your Dornish family. There was a simmering tension to this meeting because you knew both men wanted to kill each other.

“This is Lord Tywin Lannister, lord of Castley Rock and Hand of the King and his wife Y/N Lannister, lady of Castley Rock.” Tyrion introduced awkwardly.

“This is-“

“Prince Oberyn of Sunspear, your wife’s uncle.” Oberyn japes, unamused. Another short silent awkward moment passes until you free yourself from your husband’s hold and engulf Oberyn in a hug, he was quick to wrap his arms around you. Letting his head rest atop yours

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered

“As have I, sweet girl.” He placed a kiss on your head before letting go. His eyes trailed to take you in, you looked healthy; for the sake of the Lion, he was happy that you were healthy. Then his eyes fell upon your stomach and his brows furrowed in confusion before cocking them at you, as though asking the obvious question.

“Four moons.” You smiled at him. Hoping he would be more agreeable throughout this entire wedding.

“Even at this age?” His crass words were very much directed at your husband.

“No better pride for a man than legitimate children.” Your husband exchanged his blows, clearly talking about your Sand cousins

“Where is Ellaria?” You tried to de-escalate the situation as you looked around, wherever Oberyn went, she went with him.

“Where do you think?” He smirked. And then it dawned on you making you blush as you realized.

“Ah..”

The luncheon before the wedding was a blaze, you almost drowned it all out as you sat next to Tywin, trying your best to eat something but it wasn’t like you could keep anything down. It was a harsh truth you were masking from your husband, you felt far sicker than you did while carrying your boys.

Lords and Ladies lined up to present their gifts to Joffrey and Margery, swords, books, jewellery and summer homes. Tywin got to present his gift next, which he styled to be from you and him. Though you had no part in this gift, your gift to Margery was the donation from your coffers for the second orphanage she wanted to build. You had nothing to give to that blond demon other than your good wishes and blessings. He presented the boy king with another Valyrian steel sword, which he promptly used to destroy Tyrion’s gift, making you flinch away at him mishandling a very dangerous weapon.

“Could I leave? I don’t feel too well.” You leaned in to whisper to your husband, he patted your thigh and nodded. Letting you take your leave to the personal gardens. You had sat with your sons, in your gardens; as they ate their lunch. More like playing with it since their father wasn’t there.

A cough pulled you from your thoughts, at the archway of the pavilion stood Oberyn, smiling at your sons. He found his way to sit next to them, his hands smoothing over their little heads.

“They are strong.” He fawned on.

“That they are.” You agreed.

Oberyn looked at your sons adoringly for a few more moments before turning to you and sighing.

“How are you Y/N, truly?” He questioned.

“I am well, just pregnant.” You quipped, sipping on your cup of lemonade.

“Ellaria sent for you, twice.” His voice was laced in pity and anger.

“I had no reason to leave.” You shrugged.

“Child…” He scoffed.

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

“He is my husband, I love him.” You confessed knowing how distasteful those remarks must sound to your uncle.

“He has been good to me, hasn’t harmed me. I live a comfortable life, and I have children. I am happy, truly.” You reassured him.

“There was a time, when you wanted to sail to Essos with me. See the world, learn from the finest fighters.” He sounded reminiscent

“Times have changed, my father would have never let me leave.” You contended.

“If you are happy, then that is all I need to know.” He patted your cheek.

“I think it will be a girl,” you gestured to your belly. “I want her to be raised in Dorne.”

“So he wouldn’t let you leave but he would let your daughter?” He scoffed.

“He just might… he’d be dead.” You shrugged, making Oberyn let out a deep belly chuckle, making your grasp onto your tummy and laugh out too.

—————————————————————————

The night couldn’t have found itself earlier as you sat submerged in warm water that smelled of roses, you could fall asleep in here. The pain in your feet and back perished in the trickling heat, letting you find a few hours of comfort. Being pregnant was a blessing and a curse, being able to leave the pretentious gala’s and the wrath of your grandson with absolutely no consequences; however, you were sick, all the time. Hiding your fatigue was getting harder by the day.

Your dazed aura was interrupted by the door to your chambers opening with a creak, in walked Tywin looking just as exhausted from the long day of festivities however there was another worry that looked on his head as his eyes softened the second they fell upon you in the tub. He walked over to still back onto the chair resting by your tub, instinctively letting his hand caress your cheek before falling back into his chair with a cup of wine.

“How do you go through the feasts sober, is a question only the gods can answer.” You whispered, breaking the comfortable silence the two of you sat in. Your thought made him chuckle before sipping his wine.

“How are you feeling, truly?” Tywin’s voice dropped, his eyes taking in the strain on your face. “Do not lie to me, wife.” He watched as his suspicions were confirmed by you.

“It’s just nausea, chills sometimes. Maester said they were to be expected.” You shrugged

“They weren’t this horrible the time before.” He answered back promptly. You knew what he was thinking, what he was afraid of.

“I am alright, husband. Truly.” You reassured him and he let out a hum to agree with you. You were about to ring the bell to call for your handmaidens but he shook his head. Getting up to help you out of the tub.

It was moments like this when you truly questioned the intent of your marriage, you were forced your hand during this wedding, you weren’t allowed to leave and your purpose in this marriage was to bear children and yet he was so good to you. A man so cruel to the rest of the world was wrapping you in a soft towel and drying you. The man with Martell blood on his hands was the man whose hands gave you the most comfort in this alien land. You felt safe, and here everyone around you made you question if you truly ever were.

You were grateful…but was it truly blinding you?

It took a few moments but you crawled into bed with a soft white sleep tunic on, letting yourself melt on the bed the second your head felt the pillow behind it, Tywin pushed past the bed curtains climbing in next to you. Still a little worried about how exhausted and fatigued you looked. Once he found a comfortable spot, he let his body curl around yours as your back rested against his chest.

“A few more days, my love. Soon we will be home.” He whispered, placing a kiss my your ear.

It is all that you were looking forward to for weeks, to visit Castley Rock, and a clean beach you could deep your feet into. Teach your sons how to swim.

“Please don’t leave my side at the wedding tomorrow.” You whispered, hoping he’d stay with you. You were all for socializing, you were good at it. However these days, it made your head pound and surely having your husband do the talking for you wouldn’t be odd.

“I will not.” He promised.

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 5 - The Gemmond Incident

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Stargate SG-1

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard

Characters: John Sheppard, Steve McGarrett, Danny "Danno" Williams, PO Higgins (OC), Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, Alicia Vega, Laura Cadman, Bates (Stargate), Original Stargate Wraith Character(s), Original Characters, George Hammond, Jack O'Neill, Catherine Rollins, Evan Lorne

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Swearing, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, Violence, BAMF John Sheppard, BAMF Team, No DADT

Summary: Team SG-11 goes on their first off-world mission. It's supposed to be a 'walk in the park,' easing them into the hectic life at the Stargate Command. But things have a way of going off the rails when this particular team is involved. One way or another, they'll prove that they've got what it takes to fulfill their mission.

-o0o-

The first official mission of SG-11, yay!

As always, Salchat, you are the best!!! Thank you so much for all your hard work. I'm improving but I'm still a lot of work for my Beta.

If there are any mistakes, they'd be my own.

Part - 1

Officers Quarters, Pearl Harbor-Hickam Base - Hawaii

The Naval Intelligence Command Analyst, Lieutenant Catharine Rollins, was tired. The 18 hour or so trips from Hawaii to Libya and back were taking a heavy toll and all she wanted to do was go to her quarters, take a long, hot bath, and collapse on her bed for a long, uninterrupted sleep until the next day. Both she and Harrington had been dismissed by Commander Joe White with orders to take the rest of the day off and report for duty the next day when they had returned to the base. Harrington had invited her to go out but she had declined politely, citing jet lag and the need to rest. In her mind, she had been cursing at the damn idiot to stop trying to get attached to her like a freaking limpet and just leave her the hell alone.

She sighed in relief as she finally reached her quarters without having been called away for something or other, despite her being off duty. That had happened a couple of times before and that was part and parcel of her glamorous career as an Intelligence Analyst. She entered her quarters, threw her traveling bag to a corner, and started taking off her sweaty and dusty uniform while fantasizing about a nice, hot, bubble bath. But being just a lowly analyst, she only had a cramped shower in her quarters. 'Ah well, at least it's not like I have to go for a communal shower.' She shuddered at the thought.

Her much-needed long shower turned out to be only fifteen minutes as the hot water got cut off. She sighed and got out, still quite travel weary. Then she found her most comfortable and baggy sweats, an old t-shirt that was a few sizes too big, put them on, and got under the blankets in her bed. She was hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before she had to go out for dinner.

Despite the physical exhaustion, her thoughts turned to the past few hours.

'Why is it that the handsome ones are always either taken or gay?' she asked herself rhetorically.

She had tried her damndest to flirt with the navy SEAL she'd had her eyes on for a while now. But the stupid asshole had been completely oblivious. She had been sure, when they were on their way, in that transport - his loud-mouthed friend had pointed it out clearly to the Commander. But the man had seemed utterly uninterested and even annoyed at his friend. Catharine had been reeling at that response, although she had kept up the pleasant conversation with the idiot, Harrington. Then she had seen the subtle drama between her SEAL and that rather unremarkable pilot. That had given her a clue as to the lack of interest from the guy. She knew she was a very pretty woman and was not quite used to her rather demonstrated feelings going unreciprocated in that manner.

'But he’s got to be bi, hasn't he? So there is still a chance. Claire was pretty sure when she told me that McGarrett used to go out with Anna from the Enterprise during the first year after he got his trident. Pff... I'm a much better catch than that woman, certainly much better than a damn pilot...a plain guy with dumb hair-do, at that...Argh. Besides, fighter pilots don't really have that long life expectancies now, do they? Oh, Steven, you could do so much better, really..' She let her thoughts wander about the latest individual that had caught her attention and his rather ungainly love interests.

She was dragged away from her musings by a certain ringtone on her phone that had only rung twice before. She sprang up in her bed as if she had been electrocuted.

'Shit, shit, shit! I should've anticipated this,' she berated herself, especially after what had happened and where she'd been.

She hurriedly got off the bed, found her personal laptop, and plugged in the special USB/Dongle she had been given about a month ago when she was recruited. She then switched it on, disconnected her internal internet connection to the base, and connected to a different server - a server with an IP address that bounced off several satellites and countries making it impossible to track the connection. She finished running the encryption she had been given along with the USB when a window opened on her screen, indicating an incoming call. She clicked the button to accept, with trepidation.

As usual, a black screen greeted her as the call connected. She had taken steps to protect herself as much as she could and had her camera already covered. She was reasonably sure that whoever was on the other side wouldn't see her either, but she couldn't guarantee it.

"Agent CR-17, this is Zero. We have questions for you," the disembodied and distorted voice coming through the connected call informed her. She grimaced at the 'handle' she'd been given. Then she took a deep breath to clear her mind and remember the details of the past 30 hours.

"Yes, please ask your questions," she replied when she was sure her voice was even and polite.

"You have participated in a certain meeting. Give us the particulars," the voice ordered.

'Well, that's easy enough,' she thought as she mentally listed the main points of the meeting. And then she launched into an account of the meeting that happened at the base between her, Harrington, SGC, and the SEALs, the gathering at the Wheelus Air Base in Libya, the points they discussed there, and the revelations that came to light about the alliance between the Wraith and the Goa'uld agents.

The voice was quiet for a long time before it answered. "Are you quite sure of this, Agent? They have seen our involvement at the Detention facility?"

"Yes, I am. I'd advise you to take precautions if you are going to conduct further operations in this manner. I'm certain they will be able to track your transporter movements. The scientists they have at the SGC seem very competent," she answered truthfully.

"Very well." said the voice, with grim finality.

"Now, this is your next task. Send the personal files of the members of the SEAL team who were involved in this meeting. We need to deal with this before things get out of hand - well - even more out of hand. Do you understand?" the voice asked with emphasis.

Rollins felt sweat running down her spine despite the shower she had just taken only a few minutes ago. Giving them verbal reports once or twice in a while was one thing, but sending highly classified personal files was something else entirely. But she knew that refusing was not an option, not if she wanted to keep her career or her life for that matter.

"Yes, I do." She answered the only way she could.

"Make sure we receive it all by the end of the month. You do not need to send them all at once. Take steps to cover your tracks. But make sure we have what we need by the deadline." The voice cut off abruptly, just the way it always did after it finished giving orders.

She stared at her now empty laptop screen for a few moments, trying to wrap her mind around the conversation she'd just had. Not for the first time, she regretted the circumstances that led her to accept this arrangement. Having a fat retirement fund to return to when she finally took her early retirement from the navy after putting the minimum years in, was a nice feeling. But she certainly couldn't enjoy it from a military prison or an early grave.

She shook her head and switched her laptop off. It was too late to do anything now. She had to concentrate on planning how to get around various security restrictions and get her hands on the files that were requested by her beneficiaries. She needed someone from the Human Resources Administration for this, didn't she? Then she felt a small smile creeping up on her lips - She knew exactly the person she could easily persuade into letting her take a glimpse of such things! Feeling quite satisfied and making further plans for her treasonous mission, she decided she was hungry enough and started to get dressed to go out in search of a proper dinner.

Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain - Colorado

Embarkation Room

(Four weeks later)

"I know you said renaissance age, but what does that mean, exactly?" Danny asked as he adjusted the strap of his MP7.

Everyone in SGC was issued FN P90 Personal Defense weapons. But the SEALs were partial to their own submachine guns and other weapons. The first thing they'd done when they began the training, was to raid the armory in the SGC to make sure they had those specific weapons and ammo they needed. The Master Sergeant in charge of the armory had gleefully sent out requests for the Navy to re-supply them with the standard weapons and kits for the Special Operators. The Navy had reluctantly given in, needing to keep up their standards.

"Like you just stepped into a Rome-Egypt hybrid planet in the 14th century," Bates replied with a grimace. He was not a fan of the planet. He had been on one of the Gate teams who had visited the planet before it was reformed by the SG-1. He hadn't been impressed.

"Hey, it's a nice enough planet,” Major Evan Lorne interjected. “Well, they were a bit uptight before, but then SG-1 sorted them out. They are good people now, took on refugees from Nasya and everything. It's safe enough for first-time planet hoppers. Besides, they are having their harvest celebrations this time of the year. Food, drinks, and merry people all around. And we have a standing invitation every year for the party," Lorne had visited the planet two years ago for his first 'travel through the Gate' experience and it had been a blast. He was very much looking forward to an encore.

"So, what do we do there?" This was from Higgins.

"Nothing much. We go and say 'hi' to the leaders, go to a party or two and come back home," answered Cadman. She had heard good stuff from Lorne and was looking forward to the experience as well. It would be nice for once, just to go to a planet and join a celebration, just enjoy the visit other than fighting or running for their lives, for a change.

"Nice," Higgins agreed.

The Stargate Command's newest addition - or the newly re-arranged SG-11, was waiting to go on their first extra-planetary mission. Four weeks had passed since Colonel Sumner initiated the first-ever SGC team combined with the SEALs and the CIA agents. They had all been heavily involved in training for all sorts of scenarios they could think of since then. Their days had been full of weapons, physical, tactics training, going through all available information about galaxy's bad guys, and then a couple of weeks spent in earth's Alpha site for field training. Sheppard and Lorne had had to beam down to Antarctica in between for projects at the Outpost and then visit Peterson Base a few times to keep up their flight qualifications. Altogether, those six weeks had been hectic and they were all looking forward to this outing. Listening to Lorne and everyone else who had already been to planet Gemmond painting a merry picture of their culture, had them all eager for the visit. The Wraith and the Goa'uld had been silent and hadn't made any noteworthy moves so far. They all knew that when they finally did, SG-11 needed to be ready to move. This trip to Gemmond for their harvesting celebrations was sort of a break before they had to go to war, so to speak.

"Dialing the gate now." Sergeant Harriman's voice could be heard over the speakers. He had started the dialing sequence for the planet designated P3X-422, aka Gemmond.

"Chevron One encoded,"

"Chevron Two encoded,"

"Chevron Three encoded,"

"Chevron Four... not encoded."

That was not the usual script during a dial-out. Sheppard exchanged a glance with Steve and turned back to look up at the dialing station. They were all waiting in front of the ramp while Harriman dialed. The day's duty officer-in-charge, an Air Force Colonel called Dixon, was standing behind the station where Harriman was sitting. He was also frowning at the diversion from the norm.

"What's happening, Sergeant?" They could all hear the Colonel asking Harriman over the speakers.

"Sir, the gate is not connecting. It's almost as if someone from that side is already dialing. You know, it's like, we're getting the 'line busy' tone," Sergeant Harriman guessed.

"That doesn't make sense. They know we're visiting them today. They usually like it when we visit," said Colonel Dixon, his frown deepening as he glared at the dialer. Then he looked over the see-through window to stare at the group waiting to go off-world. He grimaced as if SG-11 personally had something to do with the Gate refusing to connect.

Colonel Garry Dixon wasn't a big fan of the newly initiated team. His personal opinion was that the lot of them were too arrogant and cocky for their own good. And he hadn't really tried very hard to keep his opinions to himself. But SG-11 didn't let it bother them. They hardly needed validation from the opinionated Colonel. The man had only earned his stripes just by spending the required years in service without a single active combat tour under his belt. He had somehow landed his position as head of Public Relations for SGC, mostly thanks to his political connections.

"Well, dial again," said Dixon after a pause. The Sergeant did as ordered.

"Nope, still not connecting," Harriman said after the third failed attempt. The fourth Chevron refused to connect and the Stargate stubbornly stayed dormant.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all. Something's not right," Bates muttered, shaking his head.

Sheppard stared at the Gate, thoughtfully. He could feel it in his mind. The Gate was trying to establish a connection with the input destination. He knew that Walter had guessed correctly; something was blocking the connection from the other side. Moreover, he could feel the Gate trying to force the connection, but not succeeding because something was lacking from SGC's side. It gave John an uneasy, itchy feeling in the back of his mind - like a puzzle piece that's been forced to fit into a place that it didn't quite belong. It gave him an idea.

"Sir, permission to take the Puddle Jumper on this visit?" Sheppard addressed the Colonel.

They had only just found this super-cool, little spacecraft back in Antarctica a week ago, and John had felt like he had been given a gift. He had been on the Chair running a diagnostic on weapons systems when the link had guided him towards one of the storage areas that was recently uncovered to show him the ship. He had finished the routine quickly and taken off towards his prize, with the mental connection in his mind laughing softly at his eagerness. He and Rodney had spent two days going through the ship top to bottom and declared it safe for flights. He had taken the newly named 'Puddle Jumper' (Rodney had insisted on calling it ‘Gateship,’ but John had exercised his veto power as the pilot and put a firm stop to that nonsense) on a few rides and returned with it back to the Mountain at O'Neill's orders. Jack O'Neill had promptly jumped in with Jackson, Carter, and Mitchell in tow, and taken it on a tour to space. He had returned after a few hours with all of them grinning like kids on Christmas, and then given his official stamp to put the Jumper on active service.

"What can you possibly do with the Jumper, Sheppard? We can't dial. The damned line is busy," said the Colonel, starting to lose his patience.

Sheppard mentally rolled his eyes. He knew that Dixon was quite skeptical when it came to believing in Sheppard's affinity for all things Ancient.

"I know that, Sir. But I also know that the Jumper's got a DHD in it, an Alteran designed. As advanced as our dialer is, it's still primitive compared to the real thing,” he replied. “And when there's the real thing, there's a chance that I could do something with it," he put on his most innocent expression and stared expectantly at the Colonel.

John could see Danny openly rolling his eyes and Steve trying hard to hide a snort. Bates was staring stoically ahead, staying away from the officer's spats. Agents Kalakaua and Noshimuri were staring at the Gate serenely, not letting this petty nonsense bother them. Cadman and Higgins were grinning ear to ear, watching the drama unfold. Lorne and Vega were doing the same as Cadman and Higgins, but they were carefully hiding their grins behind blank masks.

"So sure of yourself, Major?" asked Dixon, not bothering to hide his disdain.

It was obvious that he didn't believe for a second that Sheppard could do anything about the situation. The Ring was busy on the other side - there was not a damn thing they could do from this side until it closed, period.

"I don't see any harm in trying," Sheppard drawled with a shrug.

The Colonel looked for a moment like he wanted to refuse. Then he seemed to realize that it would be more fun to let John try and then berate him afterward when he inevitably failed.

"Fine then, knock yourself out. Just don't break the Stargate or the Jumper, Major." Dixon gestured grandly for them to get on with it.

...........

The team reached the next level where the Jumper was parked. The floor of the level had a trap door that could be remotely opened to let the jumper fly vertically down until it came face to face with the Stargate.

They all got themselves situated comfortably inside the craft. Sheppard took the pilot seat with Major Lorne as the co-pilot at his side. Lorne hadn't had the chance to take it out for a spin yet and Sheppard wanted him to familiarize himself with the controls during the flight. Steve and Danny took seats behind them in the cockpit. The rest of the team made themselves at home in the back where there was plenty of space for them and the equipment they carried.

"So, you think you can force a dial-in?" Lorne asked while he watched Sheppard going through the pre-flight.

"I don't know yet, Lorne. It's not like I've tried it before," said Sheppard with a crooked grin, not bothering to look up from what he was doing.

"Well, you sounded awfully sure back there," said Lorne.

"Let's just say, I have a feeling." Then he turned to look at Lorne and give him an impish grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

"Ah, Jesus! Please tell me it's not going to be like the time when we were doing that thing in Baghdad... Please! I'm begging you," Danny implored. His eyes had gone wide with what looked like genuine fear.

"Fucking hell, Danny, you had to bring that up," said Steve, trying to hide his fear behind annoyance.

"McGarrett, tell me that is not the case now - cos man, I'm gonna climb outta this tin-can right now." Higgins was already halfway up from his seat and looking furtively at the back door of the Jumper.

"Come on guys, relax. I'm pretty sure I know what I’m doing." Sheppard had finished checking on the flight controls in front of him and was now fiddling with the switches directly above him. He looked completely at ease, in direct contrast to the mounting fear in the atmosphere inside the craft.

"What happened in Baghdad?" Bates piped up from the cargo bay, stoic demeanor forgotten as his curiosity was piqued.

"Don't ask man. Just. Don't..." Higgins was shaking his head from where he was inspecting what looked like an electronic keypad with door controls.

"Oh come on, you can't just say things like that and expect us to let it go. Now you've got us all intrigued and shit," Vega cajoled.

"She's right brah, you gotta spill," Kono seconded. They were all getting increasingly curious as to what could possibly have these badass SEALs shaking in their metaphorical boots.

"Okay, people calm down. If we make it through this mission in one piece, I'll get drunk and tell you all about it - there’s no way in hell I'm going to talk about that shit while I'm sober," Danny promised the group, visibly collecting himself and.

"Stop exaggerating, Williams, it wasn't that bad. Got you all out of there, didn't I?" Sheppard defended himself with a full-blown, mischievous grin. Whatever he'd done, John was enjoying the memory, Lorne could tell.

"I was never the same again, man - none of us were - for a long time," Danny said petulantly. Steve nodded his agreement.

Sheppard finished off his flight checks with a chuckle and gently guided the Jumper above the opening on the floor. The technician outside opened the trap door, obeying Sheppard's signal. The little craft descended smoothly and came to a stop in front of the dormant Stargate, hovering just above the ramp.

..........

Sheppard dialed the address of the planet Gemmond on the Jumper's DHD. He could feel the connection failure even as he dialed due to the disturbance from the planet. He concentrated. He could feel the Jumper in his mind, wanting to co-operate eagerly.

'The Astria Porta is open on the other side. Is it imperative that we gain entrance to this specific planet, at this time?' John knew the inquiries that appeared in his mind were unmistakably Alteran, but he had no difficulty understanding what was being asked.

'Yes,' John thought confidently.

'Please enable the emergency override.' Another smaller, Ancient equivalent of a keypad appeared from the side of the DHD where John's palm was resting. He replaced his palm on the new sub-dialer, thinking 'Override.’

The new keyboard went back inside the DHD and John removed his hand to place it back on flight controls. The DHD started dialing the Gate address by itself and then dialed another sequence at the end. The Stargate in front of them came to life and the Chevrons started locking at double their usual speed. When the seventh and the final Chevron locked, the wormhole burst into life with a swoosh and stabilized with a splat. Then it waited patiently for the Jumper to fly through the gently rippling, blue surface.

The team chuckled, hooted, laughed, and whistled their praises.

John tapped his ear and activated the comms. "Sheppard to Control. Permission to visit Gemmond, Sir." He waited for the 'Go' order from the Colonel.

"Permission granted, Major." They all clearly heard the sour note in the Colonel’s voice, but they refrained from commenting, wanting to get going without any more delays on their first mission as a team.