Chapter Text
John's so used to AR-27 not dialling in on time that he's already working out who he can send to look for them when the gate activates exactly on the hour.
"Captain Rodriguez' IDC, sir."
"Really?"
"Yessir."
"Patch her through."
Chuck nods, and John hears Radio's voice in his ear. "Colonel Sheppard."
"Captain. How are things on M5D-384?"
"Fine, sir."
"Seriously?"
"Yessir. We're all settled in for the night. Just checking in, sir."
"You're sure."
"Sir?"
"If someone's there, you can just say 'All clear', and we'll come get you."
He can hear Rodriguez rolling her eyes. "No, sir. Just checking in."
"Okay, well, carry on."
"Thank you, sir." He really has to stop Rodriguez hanging around Lorne. All that sarcasm can't be healthy.
"Atlantis out."
"Copy that." The wormhole blinks out.
The gate room staff are watching him.
"They're fine," he says, trying not to sound as bemused as he feels. He notices a few faces that look more disappointed than surprised. He's about to snap at them, because he thought the animosity towards AR-27 had worn itself out, when he notices the serene expression on Chuck's face.
"Did you fix this?" he asks, keeping his voice low.
"Sir?" John knows better than to trust an innocent-looking Canadian.
"AR-27 just checked in on time and without anything to report. That never happens, so how the hell did you know?"
"Don't know what you mean, Colonel. We always hope for an uneventful mission, sir."
"Uh-huh. I'll talk to Addes, you know."
Chuck looks pained. "All due respect, sir, but Addes couldn't fix a one horse race."
"Hah! So it was you."
"Nossir. It wasn't fixed."
"Then how did you know?"
Chuck shrugs. "They were due a good day, sir."