Chapter Text
More than a year and a half had gone by since John had last seen the Little Supergirl. In that time they had found real live Ancients. Those same Ancients had taken over Atlantis and kicked the Expedition back to Earth, kicking and screaming all the way. His mind had been on the injustice of all, and about Teyla, Ronon, and all of the other people they had left behind in Pegasus.
It had taken him until nearly half-way through their exile to remember his pint-sized savior and her promise to come by the next time he was Earthside. Any attempt to get Jackson to talk had failed; the annoying man was more stubborn than a donkey in a bad mood. For a supposedly harmless, at least to anyone who had not read any of SG-1's mission reports or seen him in action, geek he sure knew how to keep his mouth shut about a subject while talking you half to death about something else. Four years on a team with Rodney McKay had taught him to tune out the useless parts of the monologue while retaining the parts which could be used for something later on.
All John had to show for his persistence was a promise to contact her, but by the time he, Elizabeth, and Carson 'borrowed' Earth's only Puddlejumper he hadn't heard so much as a peep. All Jackson would reveal was that Supergirl was doing well, but that she was incredibly busy at the moment and couldn't come and see him.
Between then and now Elizabeth had been killed and Carson had died of a randomly exploding tumor. Atlantis had faced disaster after disaster and for the most part, they had come out of it well, if not a little singed around the edges at times.
John was once again on Earth, but it wasn't another string of endless meetings or an exile he had faced this time. No, it was the death of his estranged father, seeing his equally estranged brother, and very unexpectedly seeing his ex-wife again after more than four years. Nancy had looked beautiful as always and he'd been forcefully reminded of what an idiot he'd been to give up on their marriage so easily. But the funeral was over, the human-form Replicators had been dealt with, and he'd had a semi-decent conversation with Dave last night about their father. They'd even managed to have a polite, but short, conversation regarding both of their choice of careers.
An unexpected knock on the hotel room door had revealed a welcome distraction from his family. On the other side of the threshold stood the Queen Bee herself, once again clad in black leather pants and what he assumed were stylish black boots. Her top was blueish-green with short sleeves and something glittering. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders.
"Hello, John. I'm so sorry for your loss."
He awkwardly accepted her condolences and then invited her inside. Returning to both Earth and one of his childhood homes made him remember his manners and he offered her a seat and something to drink. She chose to accept the first but declined the second.
"I can't stay for long, I just wanted to drop by since I didn't manage to catch you any of the other times you were here." She smiled a little apologetically. "Daniel relayed your messages. I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but, you know, world saveage and other obligations."
John certainly knew about 'world saveage and other obligations', he'd had too much experience with both of those. The former was probably different than his, and not just because his version of saving the world usually didn't involve Earth or at least not directly.
He smirked, "I'm sure you know something of what I've been up to since our last meeting. More than you're going to tell me, especially since you seem to have become friends with Jackson."
Supergirl returned his smile, "Yes, I do. Daniel is much with the sharing of stories and telling me all about the amazingness of the Lost City, and how much he wants to go there."
"He's been begging General O'Neill to let him go since the Expedition got the all-clear. Have you met the General?"
She got more comfortable in her chair. "Everyone keeps asking me that, but no, I haven't met him. I've been avoiding military people as much as possible since the incident I mentioned to you last time. That experience was of the bad."
John quickly decided a change of topic would probably be good at this point, so he changed tactics. "Since I can't call you when I'm Earthside, and Jackson isn't always available, could I have an email address? We get email in Pegasus, you know. Well, once a week, but we can keep in contact with people back here if we want and if we don't give any classified details."
"I still have the clearance, mister military-man. I can legally know everything." Her amusement was clear, but she hadn't shot down his suggestion so...
"I know, but you're not in a secured facility and who knows who can read your email. You'd just end up with an email full of missing words or entire paragraphs."
While he'd been talking she'd found a small spiral notebook and a pen, and then began writing. As she got up from her chair she handed him the scrap of paper. "I have to leave, I have meeting in 20 minutes, but here's my email. Don't spam me and don't share it with anyone, or I'll block you."
They exchanged some small talk on the way to the door, and then she left with a promise to meet him in three days. As he closed the door behind her, he read the text on the note: bas@idc.com.