Chapter Text
Everyone knew that the future of the Atlantis Expedition was up in the air at the moment, with the city stuck on Earth at least for the time being. Evan Lorne understood, of course, why the IOA didn't want to let them go back to Pegasus - as far as they were concerned, why let the most advanced (and totally irreplaceable) technology the human race possesses go back to another (extremely dangerous) galaxy when they could keep safely it in arm's reach?
Personally, though, he figured that was a bit shortsighted; they had a responsibility to the people of Pegasus, one Richard Woolsey had made quite clear when he thrust the Expedition into the middle of galactic politics.
With a soft sigh, Evan leaned against the balcony railing and gazed out across the rippling waters to one of the most familiar sights from his childhood. Though, to be sure, he normally saw the Golden Gate Bridge from land, as opposed to an invisible city floating on the water just outside San Francisco Bay. It was a little bit eerie, he admitted to himself, to have his past and present come together in such a way. He could almost imagine that his mom and dad were somewhere over there, staring right through him.
Six-plus years with the Stargate Program totally skewed a guy's perception of 'normal.' His life, Evan thought wryly, was a story from a science fiction writer at 2 a.m. after consuming copious amounts of Jolta-Cola, ten cups of coffee, and probably a couple joints. In the city of Atlantis, he wrangled scientists who thought that accidentally blowing up a solar system was a slight miscalculation (cough-Rodney-cough). Here, they talked about fighting life-sucking alien vampires with deadly seriousness, traveled to other planets on a regular basis, encountered versions of themselves from alternate realities, and discussed the practical problems of time travel.
If he'd told himself ten years ago that this was what his life would be like, his younger self would probably have called the nice men in white coats to take him some place he couldn't hurt himself.
On the other hand...
Evan contemplated the Bridge, the sun glinting off the windshields of mid-afternoon traffic crossing the Bay. The people here on Atlantis, despite the craziness that existed all around them, lived, and loved, and lost, much the same as anyone else. There were rough days at the office, and personal triumphs, friendships made and broken, pranks pulled and missions accomplished.
Everything in the Stargate Program was just a bit... bigger.
With a chuckle, Evan headed back to his room to grab his easel and paints. The view was practically begging to be captured, after all. Might as well oblige.