A/N: This is my very first SGA fic - my first fic ever, actually - so don't be too mean, ok? Futurefic - Evan Lorne & John Sheppard friendship, written from Lorne's POV. Yeah, it's totally mushy but I thought it was time our boys got some happy moments to make up for all the delicious whump this community tends to put them through.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or Stargate SG-1; I do not own any of the original series' characters who appear/are mentioned in this story (Sheppard, Lorne, Woolsey, Beckett, Keller, Teyla, Torren, Ronon, McKay, O'Neill, Landry, the IOA); all rights belong to the original creators of this fantastic series which I adore; I write only for fun and derive no remuneration from this.

The Theve, Emma, ERL, the Sankurans and the Berliskans are my independent creations.

All blame for the existence of this story goes to Redtail53, whose unexpected PM (and subsequent beta'ing) made my day; it also prevented me from getting any sleep until I'd extracted this story from my head and brought it into existence on (digital) paper. Thanks to her the SGA fanfiction universe is around 5100 sappy words richer.

It was an unusual sight for the military (and civilian) contingent on Atlantis to behold - which was saying something because it was the Pegasus Galaxy where weird and unusual were regular occurrences. John Sheppard without a knife and gun strapped to his body was weird. Sheppard being out of uniform was also an unusual thing, even on his day off. Sheppard in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks, hat, and sandals, in the city, was definitely worth a double-take. But Sheppard, dressed so completely down... aviators on, towel slung over one arm, strolling through the city corridor as though he were at the beach.. with an almost 15 month old toddler perched on his shoulders dressed in matching swim trunks, sandals, hat and mini-aviators.. well, that was something so different that even a highly experienced and unflappable Pegasus veteran had to stop and stare.

Perhaps gawk was more appropriate... especially since said veteran was the father of said toddler, and was XO to said dressed down military commander. Sheppard simply smirked at his stunned XO and gave a casual salute as he passed by. His passenger beamed broadly and risked an uncoordinated wave at daddy with one chubby hand; despite his stunned state, Lorne instinctively had to smile back and return the wave to his son. When they crossed the atrium and disappeared out of sight in the direction of the swimming pools his hand seemed to freeze, along with his brain. It took him a few seconds to register that he was standing with his hand in the air and gaping at a now-empty corridor. His CO never ceased to surprise him, even after 8 years. He was unlike any other CO Lorne had ever worked for, but had fast become the only CO he ever wanted serve under. He recovered quickly, glancing around casually to make sure nobody had seen him blink, and wished he'd had a camera on him. It would have made a fantastic picture; Sheppard and his mini-me passenger. Immediately he changed his mind. Nobody needed a photo of Sheppard shirtless, especially not holding a toddler. It was likely to cause exploding ovaries, or something. Sheppard had enough of a cultish following, especially amongst the ladies on Atlantis (and more than a few of the men, too). No need to fuel that particular fire.

Sheppard had had more to do with his son's existence than most people would ever know. First, it had been when newly minted Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne had met Emma; The mission had been a disaster. They'd lost several people and, despite their best efforts, had witnessed the self-annihilation of nearly the entire Theve population. Any other CO would have advised caution in getting involved with an "alien" (especially one whose mostly whacko society had just essentially undertaken near-mass suicide), or getting involved at all considering he was stationed on the most "forward" that a FOB could get. He was definitely living in very hostile territory; deep behind enemy lines. Sheppard had simply smirked at Lorne and had purposely begun giving him assignments that increased their interactions. Emma wasn't like the rest of her people, and had fought against the impending self-annihilation with a calm ferocity that belied her diminutive figure. She was one of a minority group of Theve who rejected the predominant and fervent complex religious belief that self-sacrifice was the key to defeating the Wraith. The arrival of people from Atlantis should have quelled that passion; provided hope for defeating the Wraith in more practical and logical ways.

Instead, the High Cleric had made a last valiant effort at maintaining his spiritual control over his flock, twisting Atlantis' existence and their success against the wraith into the Final Sign; it had fueled their belief and pushed up the timetable for The Reaping. Within four days of initial contact, the High Cleric had amassed nearly all his followers together in the Sacred Caverns to the west of the city. At midnight on the fifth day, the Reaping had begun. It had taken less than five hours. By the time the sun rose, over 90% of the Theve were dead. When it was all over Emma had calmly assessed the chaos and devastation, rallied up the survivors and begun issuing instructions for short-term survival and clean-up. Her quiet strength and calm authority had turned devastated, shocked, and crying people into focused, bustling workers; she had swiftly flipped an Armageddonesque ending to a hopeful new beginning for a strong, secular, scientific Thevenin. Lorne hadn't realised until much later that Sheppard had figured it out before he had - he and Emma were two peas in a pod. Then Sheppard had begun fiddling with the staff rotations, insisting that he simply wanted to 'be more involved'.

Lorne knew something was up because there was no way that Sheppard would willingly volunteer to do additional work (especially administrative work) but he couldn't (and didn't) complain and let Sheppard fudge as he wanted. Anything that could keep Sheppard busy on-base kept him out of trouble off-world. The changes were pleasant enough; his allocated days off suddenly became more clustered and it seemed purely coincidental that they often intersected with visits from the Theve delegation. He also had more consecutive off days, allowing him to get really stuck into a painting if he wanted to. It didn't bother him that they were less frequent. For nearly a year Lorne did what he did best: Kept the city supplied, kept his people safe, kept an eye on Sheppard, and kept ending up on Thevenin for trade or training missions with new personnel. He kept his affections for Emma to himself, kept his work and his conduct professional, and kept pulling Sheppard's ass out of the fire when he got into trouble. Sometimes he even had to go off-world to rescue Sheppard from a FUBAR mission.

Then, a citywide emergency evacuation on top of a Wraith attack on an allied world on top of a VIP IOA Delegation visiting from Earth threw everything into chaos. Lt. Colonel Lorne was thoroughly suspicious when Sheppard took the Delegation and Evacuation, and sent Lorne off to handle the Wraith attack clean-up. It was extremely unlike the Colonel to not take the opportunity to escape off-world when it involved the IOA and assorted dignitaries. He had justified it, of course, and Lorne was never going to argue with his orders, but when he reached Sankura and discovered that the plan was to relocate the survivors to Thevenin, everything clicked; he felt thoroughly justified at having given Sheppard some serious side-eye during the emergency briefing. Until that point he had argued against himself in his head - there was no way Sheppard could have known how often he would end up working directly with Emma, nor could have have known the Sankuran relocation plans (could he?). It was a moot argument; the series of events had crossed the line from coincidental to 'statistically significant', as Dr Z would have said.

With the Sankuran survivors safely transplanted, the Thevenin capital city was beginning to see more life again; he couldn't deny that it was a fantastic feeling to watch a world come back to life after having seen so many destroyed over the years. He'd spent 3 days hopping back and forth between the three planets as needed; most of the third day found him held on Thevenin, liaising with Emma, the Theve council, and the Sankuran survivors. He'd kept an ear to the ground regarding the situation on Atlantis, but it seemed Sheppard had managed to resolve the emergency situation and get rid of the VIP delegation at the same time without requiring an attempted suicide of any sort. Nobody was even mad at Sheppard, either. Not even the VIPs who were safely ensconced on the rebuilt (and much-better-designed) Midway station on their way back to Earth had a bad word to say. Their visit had been less than half the length it was intended to be, but they were remarkably chipper about the whole dramatic incident and unexpected evacuation. Lorne momentarily worried that Sheppard had staged the whole thing but dismissed it. He would have needed help to pull off something so epic; Lorne would have been first on his list of accomplices. Maybe second, after McKay. But near the top of the list, definitely.

After the crisis he'd lured Sheppard out to the South-West Pier for a beer and a few moments alone to "regroup" and "recharge", then calmly and casually demanded an explanation from his CO. Sheppard had grinned at Lorne's very explicit "WTF", sipped his beer, shrugged, and just as casually informed Lorne that he and Emma were 'going to make the prettiest and smartest children in all of Pegasus together'. Lorne had given his meddling CO a silent furious glare, downed the rest of his beer, tossed the empty off the pier and had gotten up to walk away. Sheppard had blinked at that at least, 'uhmming' in confusion as he had not been expecting that reaction from his usually calm and polite XO. After all, Lorne was crazy about Emma, wasn't he? And littering? Inwardly pleased at that minor retribution, Lorne had paused his swift exit, turned, gave Sheppard a deliberately sloppy salute, and deadpanned "Well I had best get right on that then, Sir," before leaving.

The look on Sheppard's face had been worth it. As he'd made his way back to his quarters, exhausted and happy from three days of chaos and Emma, he laid out his objective and plan of attack in his head as any good soldier on a mission would do. He set into motion Step 1 even as he walked; a city cleaning protocol was triggered and a small robot dispatched to collect the discarded beer can from where it likely floated at the base of the pier. It wouldn't do to leave trash lying around. It did, however, seem rather fitting that his decision to pursue Emma seriously and act on his intentions had come as a sort-of "order" from his oddball CO; pretty much everything in his life and career had been governed by orders from above. The sloppy salute, learned from Sheppard himself, was perfectly in line with the sloppy directive from his CO. Sheppard wanted him to go forth and procreate? He always was good at following orders.

~~~~~00000~~~~~

A year and seven months later, Elliot Rasur Lorne had made his way calmly and fairly quietly into the world, into Colonel Sheppard's only slightly shaking hands, then into Sheppard's eponymous leather jacket, into Sheppard's jumper, and, to his CO's unexpected surprise, straight into Sheppard's heart. That entire fiasco was a story unto itself. Elliot had decided to rock up 2 weeks early, in the middle of Emma making an emergency visit to Berliska following another wraith attack on that world. The message that she had left Thevenin to attempt to persuade an evacuation of the Berliskan survivors had taken some time to reach Atlantis. Lorne had been off-world elsewhere and Emma was not supposed to be travelling off-world any more, except to make her scheduled return to Atlantis a week before her due date with a medical escort.

Keller and Beckett were both still a little miffed about missing Torren's birth all those years ago; more so about the fact that he'd been born on a Hive ship instead of being the first baby born on Atlantis in ten thousand years. When they heard about baby Lorne, they had immediately insisted that the ATA-positive baby should be born in Atlantis, for purely medical safety reasons of course. He and Emma had agreed without issue – after all, Atlantis was Lorne's home and Emma's part-time home too. While the Theve had fairly decent medical technology, they didn't have the Ancient scanners. Nor did they have two overprotective and highly qualified medical doctors who could be very persuasive and scary when they wanted something. Plenty of babies were being born on Theve, but (surprisingly) there still hadn't been any children born in the Ancient city. There'd been some worry that Torren would pave the way for a flood of pregnancies but it just never happened. Lorne had been just a smidgen proud that his kid would be the first new city-born Atlantean citizen.

When the message had arrived, Beckett and Keller had given Sheppard one look that let him know there would be trouble if he didn't take action. The walk from the gate to the Berliskan settlement was pretty rough so Sheppard had made the smart choice and grabbed a jumper to go see if he could assist with transportation so she wouldn't have to walk. He went alone because he was just going to play taxi; he also had to very quickly get away from the impending wrath of the dynamic doctoring duo. Then the Wraith had unexpectedly come back for a second course, the villagers had decided Sheppard was responsible for everything, Emma had gotten stuck in the middle of a three-and-a-wraith-sided argument and she'd had to literally run to make an escape with the Colonel. They had been cut off from the jumper and were hiding from alternately circling wraith darts and angry villagers in a small cave when Emma had finally been forced to confess to Sheppard that her water had broken when they had first started running for their lives. They had been camped out for over six hours and her contractions had become too intense; soon she would not be able to walk herself back to the Jumper. So she had called Sheppard over from his guard position at the mouth of the cave and informed him that they would have company soon; baby Lorne was joining the party.

According to Emma, he had panicked quietly and stoically before commenting that if Rodney McKay could do it, a full-bird Colonel could definitely do it too. He followed her instructions to the letter and had successfully delivered Elliot roughly an hour later. He had also apparently very carefully cleaned him as though he was defusing a bomb and then wrapped him up in his precious leather jacket without prompting. Two hours later night had fallen and they finally determined the coast was clear; Sheppard had carried Elliot to the jumper in one arm while supporting Emma with other. He was no Ronon, and Emma had insisted she was fine to walk as long as they kept the pace easy. They'd made it safely to the Jumper through the empty and destroyed ruins of the town and were happy to see that the Gate was no longer engaged by the Wraith. However, the DHD had been blasted to pieces and they found a very small cluster of Berliskan survivors sitting dejectedly by the now-useless portal to safety. There were only 32 left. 32 out of the 173 that Emma had been trying to save after the first attack. Despite their previous actions, Emma had convinced them that they were still welcome on Thevenin and Sheppard had graciously dialled the gate for them from the Jumper and let them leave first. Once back in Atlantis, he had delivered Emma and Elliot to the capable hands of Dr Keller before visiting the control room and ordering Lorne back to the city immediately.

45 minutes later, Lt. Colonel Lorne had popped through the gate into Atlantis at a swift pace and promptly stopped short. Sheppard stood in the middle of the platform, holding a bundle in his arms. Lorne had begun to panic internally but Sheppard had just beamed at him before rather proudly introducing 'Colonel Evan Lorne' and the entire room to Elliot Rasur Lorne. The honorific had gone completely over his head as the whole world had narrowed down to the tiny little human being Sheppard was carefully depositing into his arms. He didn't even notice as Sheppard unclipped his P90 from his vest in the same action and handed it off to someone.

Sheppard had gripped him on the shoulder as he had stared down at the tiny, living, breathing, person in his arms; fuzzy brown hair and green eyes blinked back. Sheppard had informed 'Colonel Lorne' that Emma was resting in the infirmary and tugged him off the platform in that direction. He had been halfway to the infirmary when he registered the formality of rank in Sheppard's address, but the realisation only drew his attention away from Elliot for about 5 seconds - long enough to eye Sheppard briefly before focusing back on his son. He would clarify later. Right then his priority had been to get to Emma without dropping the tiny person in his arms; that most precious cargo; the most valuable thing he'd ever held. (McKay would argue with him about that; he'd been the only person on Atlantis to carry two ZPMs in his arms at the same time.)

An hour later, after Lorne had been checked and cleared at a most expedient pace by an only slightly annoyed Carson Beckett and had taken up residence next to Emma, Sheppard had reappeared in the infirmary with a digital camera and a little black box. He'd handed the camera off to one of the nurses and proceeded to pin a set of silver eagles onto Lorne's BDU shirt right there where he was sitting next to Emma's bed without any ceremony whatsoever. Lorne didn't budge or blink; by then he'd figured it out what Sheppard was likely going to do and had already processed his surprise and excitement internally. His serious, calm, unflappable face was on. It was what everyone expected and loved. Lorne never blinked. Not even when... never mind. That was a story for another time. The nurse snapped a few photos as Sheppard finagled the pins into place, yanked him up, kicked the chair out of the way, shook Lorne's hand, smirked at his calm and placid demeanour (Sheppard knew better), and reclaimed the camera. He'd ordered 'Colonel Lorne' to sit on the edge of Emma's bed, hold Elliot, and smile for the camera. Apparently they would 'deal with the unimportant stuff later' - Sheppard wanted him to have his eagles on in the first photos of the new family. Lorne sighed inwardly but didn't comment beyond a raised brow in his CO's direction; Sheppard was going off-book again, nothing unusual, and it would just mean some extra paperwork later (to put out the fires) that he would have likely ended up doing anyway. He couldn't really complain - early promotion looked good on his service record.

After a dozen or so snapshots Lorne decided to make full use of one of the privileges that came with the new (but still very much unofficial) rank. Before anyone could blink he had deposited Elliot into Sheppard's clearly capable arms, appropriated the camera and insisted that Elliot get a photo with his 'Uncle John'. When Sheppard protested, Lorne had levelled his gaze at him and had emphatically instructed 'John' to "shut up and smile". 'John' had acquiesced, especially after Emma had eyed him dangerously as well. She had filled Evan in on the day's events and on Sheppard's very pivotal role in ensuring their safety and delivering Elliot. It took four awkward snaps before 'John' had peeked down at the little guy in his arms to make sure he was still okay and promptly seemed to forget that there was a camera in the room. Lorne, ever the artist, hadn't let the moments go to waste. Those photographs had turned out fantastic, and had ended up being included in the base-wide birth announcement email.

'John' had grumbled and muttered when it turned out that the images had made it across galaxies too. He'd received a snarky email from General O'Neill, supposedly to reprimand him about letting spill early (the promotion wasn't due for another 2 months but the pins had been sent ahead just in case) and not following proper promotion protocol in pinning Lorne... but mostly he just griefed Sheppard about how 'adorable' he looked with the 'Little Monster'. O'Neill also congratulated him on managing to 'not drop the baby while catching it' as that would 'not have been actions befitting an Air Force Colonel'. Apparently McKay's "didn't-hit-the-floor-or-anything" delivery of Torren had set the bar. John had stopped complaining the first time he took Elliot for a walk about the city and realised that 'adorable' had advantages, especially when it came to that hot new linguist ("They're good with their mouths!") he'd been trying to find an inroad with for several weeks. Typical Sheppard - he would go after someone not in his fan club. Landry had been slightly more upset, but O'Neill had waved his magic Head of Homeworld Security wand and the promotion was made retroactively official anyway.

For a CO who had seemed skittish around Torren, he seemed to have no qualms about regularly kidnapping Elliot for cuddles, meals, and nap times. He even stole him on some of his days off (like today), and once (and only once) on a day filled with meetings with the IOA. He had informed Evan with a gleefully sadistic smile of how four month old Elliot had burped ("disapproved") and squealed ("questioned") and flailed ("objected") at exactly the right moments to unsettle the visiting politicians and derail their train of thought. Since he was so thoroughly well-behaved otherwise, and since Sheppard refused to remain in their meetings without him, they'd had no grounds to have him removed. Apparently Elliot was the best boring-meeting-antidote in the city. Woolsey had given him a stern talking to about it afterwards, but John had insisted that Richard had been secretly smiling on the inside. His next favourite activity was to include Elliot in his "Intro to Atlantis" military briefing for new recruits from Earth. Sheppard was already so ..unusual.. in his command style that most of the newbies were left flustered and floundering within minutes of meeting him; add to that a baby in a body sling with a penchant for perfectly timed.. 'emanations'... and it made for great entertainment. Seeing Sheppard so thoroughly enamoured of Elliot.. Lorne considered his 'over-achievement' the ultimate revenge for all the oddball orders Sheppard had enjoyed throwing at him over the years.

~~~~~00000~~~~~

And now, apparently, General Sheppard had invested in matching outfits. How he had even gotten his hands on mini-aviators all the way from Pegasus.. Lorne didn't know what to make of it, but he supposed you didn't make it to the rank of Brigadier General without being at least slightly capable (or having a damn good XO). But, the sight had cemented at least one thing in his mind: Sheppard loved Elliot, would always be there for the 'Little Monster', and considered him one of "his people".. and Lorne knew exactly what to do about it. Ever the efficient overachiever, that same afternoon he dropped a stack of papers on Sheppard's desk, completely filled in and marked with sticky notes to indicate the spaces requiring signatures. Paper forms were a thing of the past on Atlantis, but Lorne figured that something like this required a bit of ceremony and gravity, even if it was just the act of putting pen to actual pieces of paper. It was a mere formality, really, since Sheppard was already like a second father (or very favourite uncle) to Elliot. Now it would just be legally documented. He knew Sheppard would make a turn by their shared office after dinner to see if he was still there before heading to quarters for Elliot's bedtime.

The look on Sheppard's face when he showed up at Lorne's door later that evening was priceless. He was still in his swimming outfit, but had thankfully added a t-shirt (Generals just really aren't supposed to walk around shirtless) and his aviators were propped up on his head. Cradling a sleeping Elliot in one arm, and the papers in the other, he stared at Lorne with a combination of terror, surprise, and excitement, all hidden under the signature casual slouch that even six months as an Air Force General had been unable to cure him of. Lorne had learnt to read Sheppard with years of practice and didn't even have to look to know that the papers were signed. Sheppard made to hand them over, then stopped before glancing at Elliot. Elliot chose that moment to snuffle softly and Sheppard grinned at him, at Lorne, and at the papers before handing them over.

Lorne grinned back and headed for his desk while Sheppard let himself in and made a beeline for the second room off to one side. Emma was away on Thevenin, and Lorne stopped for a moment to marvel at how easy it had been to look after Elliot with Sheppard's help. Even when Emma was on Atlantis, Sheppard had always made a point of stealing Elliot away regularly. McKay had pitched a fit when Sheppard had strolled into his lab the first time with Elliot in his arms. Elliot had been twelve days old. Ranting about safety and security and dangerous experiments (all valid, although seriously exaggerated concerns) before going off on a tangent about baby ATA and wraith attacks and his personal safety, McKay had stopped when he realised that Elliot had fallen asleep at some point during his rant and that Sheppard wasn't paying any attention to anything but the sleeping child. Teyla had remarked that "it takes a village to raise a child" and he had to agree. When it wasn't Sheppard, there was always someone offering to babysit the angelic Little Monster.

He smiled at the papers as he clipped and slid them into a folder and popped them on top of his laptop. Tomorrow they would be digitized and added to the data burst for the next transmission to Earth. He hadn't even asked Emma but he knew absolutely that she would be in agreement. Sheppard was now officially a legal guardian to Elliot, and was listed as Lorne's primary backup caregiver in the event of any emergency, death or incapacitation. He was basically Elliot's "backup dad". He pulled two beers out of the mini-fridge as Sheppard backed out of the adjacent room, thought off the light and commanded the door to close. It swished closed with barely a sound and Lorne had to marvel at Sheppard's control over the city functions. After 10 years of hard practice, (and McKay secretly reactivating a dormant subroutine that was almost like an AI assistant) Sheppard could command the city with such fine control that he could turn on and off individual light fixtures halfway across the city, or as in this case, order the door to close without the typical hydraulic hiss that accompanied it. Sheppard flicked on the baby monitor and propped it back in its place before taking a beer from Lorne and flopping down on one of the couches.

He didn't have to ask to know that Sheppard had made sure Elliot was fed, bathed, changed and sleeping soundly. He'd initially been surprised when Sheppard had put in a request for "backup baby stuff" to keep in his quarters, but he'd agreed. The first time Sheppard had brought Elliot back clean, dry, happy and sleepy, Lorne had eyed him suspiciously. Teyla had confided in him the next day that 'Uncle John' had come to her for "baby lessons" under penalty of death if she told anyone. Lorne had promised to keep quiet, but he suspected that Sheppard knew he knew. It was his job, after all, to know everything that was going on in the city with all personnel at all times. He tossed the caps into the trash before joining his CO on the couch.

Sheppard had already thought on the Ancient display against the wall. Lorne leaned over and grabbed his tablet to put on the next unwatched NFL game they'd received during the databurst from Earth the week before. As the sounds of the crowd and the commentators filled the room, Sheppard clinked his beer against Lorne's, grinned again and propped his feet up on the table. Lorne shoved them off with one of his own in protest and Sheppard simply smirked and put them right back, eyes on the game. Lorne just sighed and shook his head before doing the same. Sheppard was incorrigible. The time passed in relative silence interspersed by Sheppard occasionally muttering at the screen when the ref made a bad call. Lorne had retrieved more beer and a bowl of microwave popcorn while Sheppard had fast-forwarded the halftime show. Normally they wouldn't but they both knew Lorne had an early start the next morning and he appreciated the gesture.

When the game ended, Sheppard stretched languidly, rocked himself up off the couch and grabbed the empty bottles off the table. Lorne switched off the tablet and the display and dragged himself up while Sheppard disposed of the trash. Lorne watched as Sheppard carefully poked his head into Elliot's room. Satisfied that the Little Monster (O'Neill's inadvertent moniker had stuck, thankfully, since it was better than McKay's "The Earl of Atlantis") was sleeping peacefully, he silently shut the door again and turned to head out to his own quarters. In the doorway he paused and looked at Lorne who simply raised an eyebrow and waited. He and Sheppard hadn't said a word all evening to each other, not even about the papers, and Lorne wasn't going to push a conversation now. If Sheppard wanted to talk, he'd let him start. Sheppard contemplated him for a few seconds, a hint of a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. "Good night, Evan." he finally said.

"Good night, John" Lorne replied, accepting the invitation for verbal informality. Sheppard grinned at that, and shook his head. "Good day, Evan." he stated. Lorne wasn't sure how he was meant to respond, so he simply raised a brow again. Sheppard nodded, more to himself than to Lorne, it seemed. "Best day." he said softly, his eyes drifting back to Elliot's closed door as he turned to leave. Lorne watched as his CO-turned-son's-godfather began to move away, his final words drifting back to Lorne over his shoulder down the passageway.

"Best day ever."