Grant stood over the railing of the raised patio and looked out at the grey rippling waters of San Francisco Bay. The mild summer breeze kicked up a scent of saltwater and fish from the markets down the street, but not too much. Pier 51 was one of San Francisco's busiest tourist destinations and it wouldn't do for the shoppers and vacationers to be inconvenienced. It was early, before the lunch rush, and the cafe Grant was sitting in was nearly empty. The rest of Ghiradelli square was buzzing with morning shoppers, most of them boasting t-shirts or hats with the city's name or images of the Golden Gate bridge.

He could not, for the life of him, figure out why a man as obviously well traveled as John Sheppard would pick the most touristy spot in the city to meet. It made no difference to Grant, but he was curious. He'd asked John to meet, he didn't care where.

"Harrison!"

Grant turned at his name and shook his head, amused. He would never get used to people calling him by his last name. In the law profession, using one's first name exclusively was the polite way to pull rank. He got his first hint of John's reasoning when he saw the Air Force Colonel walking lightly up the steps into the Square followed by Ronon, McKay and a beautiful young woman with long copper hair. They were all dressed in casual clothing, John and Ronon in jeans and golf shirts, the woman in slacks and an exotic blouse. McKay was wearing cargo pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt that somehow looked completely awkward on him. Grant glanced down at his own slacks and dress shirt and suddenly felt very much like a lawyer. The last time he'd seen John, he'd been bristling with weapons and clothed in armor.

"John."

Grant greeted the arrivals warmly and shook hands with the men and allowed John to introduce the woman as Teyla. She had a remarkable air of confidence about her, of a personal nature and also within the crowd of very powerful men she found herself. This was a woman who was used to holding her own.

"I promised Teyla I'd take her to Ghiradelli's before she leaves, so we decided to make it a team outing," John added to the introductions.

"You decided," McKay muttered, managing to look grumpy and pleased all at the same time. "I've got a month's worth of work backed up in the labs and you dragged us out here to shop for a sense of nostalgia."

"And chocolate," Teyla added emphatically. John just ignored them, but his eyes were smiling.

"I go back on active duty next week. This was my last chance to play hooky for a while."

"From your research off the coast?"

John shrugged. Grant waited, but John offered nothing more.

"Shall we sit?"

"Yeah, I'm coming. Meet you guys at the ice cream shop. I'm buying." The team waved goodbye and Grant could hear their conversation as they wandered into the courtyard lined with shops and food.

"He's just saying that so we'll wait for him. Ten bucks says he weasels out of the bill." McKay said.

"Then I have ten bucks more to spend on chocolate."

"And if you lose?"

"Then I will require John to buy me ten bucks of chocolate."

"You do know they're called dollars, don't you….?"

John laughed and threw Grant a self-conscious grin, "She means it. I'd better pay up."

"I believe you," Grant agreed and moved towards a patio table. John followed, hands in his pockets. "She is part of your team, too?" He had assumed as much about McKay and Ronon. Although he really had no idea what kind of team they actually were, or what they did on a regular basis. Research didn't quite seem to summarize his work adequately.

"Yeah. She can kick butt and take names, and get the surliest of villagers eating out of her hand within three cups of tea. She was coordinating the search efforts from our base of operations during the search and rescue. She and McKay put the final pieces together that led them to the smugglers' Napa compound."

"Then I owe them as sincere a debt of gratitude as I owe you."

John busied himself with getting settled in his chair, shrugging off the praise. Grant noticed that even though three weeks had passed, John lowered himself into his seat carefully and leaned back with a practiced caution. "You said she's leaving?"

"She's going back to her home, soon." His eyes flicked towards the courtyard towards the group that was still in sight.

"Ah. Will she be leaving your team permanently?"

"I sure hope not. But for now, it's a one way trip and it seems likely."

"You'll miss her," Grant said, summing up John's tone of voice.

"Yeah. But she misses her son. She needs to go home."

"I see." Grant left the topic there as a waiter came by to deliver tiny cups of bitter coffee. John reached stiffly for the cup. "Are you recovering well from your injuries?"

He and Nancy had sat long hours at the SF field office waiting for news after John's frightening collapse in the smuggler's lair. They hadn't been allowed to see him, but his superior – a Mr. Woolsey – had come by personally to reassure them than John had, and would, survive. Grant noticed that his face still had the pale, pinched thinness of someone who'd been recently ill.

"Only hurts when I breathe. Doc signed me off for duty, though."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Grant waited and John fidgeted. "How…How's Nancy?" he asked at last, then looked at Grant with a failed expression of nonchalance. "She won't take my calls."

Grant took a deep breath, and leaned back. "She's going through a tough time. What she went through has shattered her sense of security in the world, and it's taking time to get that back. She won't get in a cab for anything," he added with a rueful chuckle.

"Why am I here, Harrison?" John demanded softly at last.

"I asked you to meet because I…I need to know what to do for her."

"I don't understand."

"You were with her during the ordeal. And I got the impression that you have been in difficult situations before and know how to deal with post trauma stress. You can help me understand." He'd been thinking a lot about McKay's comment in the past weeks. How did one simply "get on with it" after something like this?

"Nancy said you were some kind of psychologist before you went into law. You know more about it than I do."

"I've an understanding on paper. I never practiced counseling. And more than being a soldier who understands what she's going through, I know you care about her. You know who she is and what she needs."

John fiddled with his fingers on the table. Grant wasn't sure if he was considering an answer or trying to evade it. He decided to press. He'd convinced himself he was here to help Nancy, but he knew he had his own questions that needed answering.

"Something else happened during the kidnapping, didn't it? Something between you two."

John looked genuinely startled and raised his hands defensively. "Hell no! I was a little too preoccupied with the whole getting the crap beaten out of me to hit on your wife, Harrison." His tone was tinged with anger.

"She was your wife."

"Not anymore. I…lost that a long time ago."

"She's grieving, John. She's grieving for you. Something happened that has made her question her feelings for you."

John flung himself back in his chair, and scrubbed the back of his hair furiously. Grant was psychologist enough to recognize him struggling with extreme discomfort. Despite all his bravery, John was a man who rarely tackled personal matters, he realized. Observing the flaw was almost a relief. When he did speak again, John sounded sharp, determined.

"You have to understand that when people are in an intense situation like we were, you depend on each other for your lives. She may not have realized it, but I needed her there as much as she needed me. Stuff gets all weird and it can mess with your head if you don't know what's going on."

He paused and Grant just waited, bracing himself for whatever John had to say.

"After you do that a few times, you learn to figure out what's real, and what's not. I can understand if she's confused. Hell, I wanted to marry my buddy Larry the first time we slogged our way out of a busted op in Afghanistan." He grinned, attempting to lighten the conversation. "That one took less time to figure out."

Grant forced a smile. "But you do care for her. And she for you."

"Sure. I loved the hell out of her. And she would be the first to tell you that that isn't enough."

Grant realized the subtle deflection John had employed. He'd answered in the past, carefully leaving his current feelings neutral. It was both maddening and reassuring. At the very least, for the first time since he'd watched John walk into the room and take over Nancy's rescue, Grant believed that John truly had no intentions to revive a relationship. With the wave of relief came a slow crawl of chagrin.

"It may not be enough to make a marriage, John, but it went a long way towards saving her life." Grant said, calling his bluff. He still believed that John cared more deeply than he would admit.

John leaned forward and put his hand on the table, surprising Grant with his intensity. "How long have you been married?"

"Coming up on five years."

"Look, you're already a lot better at it than I ever was, or ever could be. You wanted to know what to do for her? Just be there. Be with her. She's tough. She'll snap out of it in time and remember that I was the sonabitch who didn't love her enough to put her first. You can give her what I couldn't. What I'd never be able to…"

"She does seem to need a lot of reassurance." He would never say so to John, but her demands for proof of his devotion had even been an issue for them from time to time. It was a trait that was fading with time and maturity in their relationship, and Grant had honestly blamed John for her neediness.

"And she needs it now more than ever."

"I'll do that. I can do that."

John's observation had helped him understand that Nancy's current feelings were charged with the heightened intensity of the kidnapping. Grant had found the hope he'd been looking for that, in time, Nancy would turn to him fully again. He intended to take John's advice to heart and show her how much he needed her, too.

"And you think she'll get over you again?" Grant asked with humor and relief.

"I think she'll figure out what's real and what's not," John answered softly.

He looked away and Grant followed his gaze to spot the team of friends leaving a store burdened with packages. Ronon was menacing Teyla with a large stuffed animal and even the carefully fractious Dr. McKay was grinning. Grant leaned forward with a sudden insight and John watched him warily as he found himself staring.

"You let her go. Didn't you? When you and Nancy separated, you left overseas and gave her up because you knew she was unhappy." Perhaps Grant's suggestion was born out of a false sense of admiration for this man who had saved his wife's life, but the idea reconciled his observations about John's depth of caring. He'd let Nancy go, just like he would let Teyla leave his team so she could be with her son. But John scoffed, shaking his head in violent negation.

"You give me more credit than I'm worth, Harrison. When she left me, I was messed up. She hurt me and my father took her side. I broke ties with my family. I ran, I took off. Believe me, the last thing on my mind was altruism."

"Right." Grant said neutrally. He would keep his opinions to himself. "Well, I've kept you too long. It seems your team is enjoying their day off and you should join them." He could tell that John desperately wanted to join them, to simply get on with it as McKay had told him he would do.

Grant rose and waited for John to gingerly push himself to his feet as well. He offered his hand and John returned the shake firmly. He was about to murmur a farewell when John fidgeted and scrubbed the back of his neck again. Grant just waited, giving him time to work up his courage, curious about what John was finding hard to say.

"Honestly, I don't know how long I'll be around either. I won't be able to check up on Nancy much, in the best of cases. Just…promise me you'll take care of her?"

"I promise," Grant answered with fervor. And then, because he couldn't resist and because he thought John would appreciate the sentiment he added, "I can't say I'm sorry she left you, John. I feel like I got the better deal."

John chuckled and slapped Grant on the arm. "Fair enough." He looked again at his team, then added, "but I haven't done so badly, either."

Grant watched until John had caught up with his friends. Teyla eagerly showed him her purchases and then grabbed him by the arm to pull him with little courtesy towards the Ghiradelli chocolate and ice cream shop. He wondered why such normal looking friendship seemed so extraordinary in John's case. With a little more thought, he had his answer by the time he'd walked down the street and had flagged a cab back to the airport.

He had seen John's team manipulate incredible technologies (a fact that had earned him hours of non-disclosure agreements). He'd seen the aftermath of the combat John and Ronon had walked into with competence and courage. He remembered his own utter sense of helplessness in a terrifying situation he had no hope of influencing while John executed a successful rescue operation suffering from life-threatening injuries. He couldn't even imagine what they experienced on a daily basis.

John and his people were extraordinary, in the purest sense of the word.

Grant would go home to his ordinary home, toil at his ordinary yet satisfying work, and take care of his brilliant and passionate and utterly ordinary wife. Nancy might regret what she'd lost for a while, but Grant wouldn't have it any other way.

And deep down, in the part of John Sheppard that still cared for Nancy more than he'd admit, Grant knew that John would agree.

A/N: Just a couple comments – #1 Thanks for reading.

If you happen to be heading to the Chicago Stargate Convention in August, look me up! Would love to say Hi and put some faces to some names. Just shout "T'Pring!" and I'll answer if I'm within earshot. Seriously, I will. I doubt there will be too many others to confuse me with. If there are any other T'Pring's out there, I'd love to say hi to you too. Ha!

The restaurant in Mt. View where Nancy took Shep is called Chez TJ, you can google it and see the house on sat. view. Hubby says it's a chick place, so I was glad it was Nancy who'd picked. Hey, she was buying!