"Pete?"

"Jesus, Rodney?" Like always, Rodney's voice made Pete relax in relief. It wasn't actually the voice per se, but what it meant - that Rodney was alive and that he was nearby.

"Yeah," Rodney said. "How would you feel about having a couple of visitors?"

Pete smiled, even though he knew Rodney couldn't see it. "John's with you?"

"Yeah," Rodney said. He sounded tired, but also kind of relieved. "You still at the lake?"

Pete laughed. "No, we have a place in New Burbage. They like to keep Geoffrey near the theatre - he can be a little lax at...uh...showing up. Where are you? Do you want to come here?"

"Yeah, we'll come to you," Rodney said.

"You can fly into Thunder Bay," Pete said. "But it's a pretty far drive after that. You could fly to Red Lake Municipal, if you don't mind small planes."

"Don't worry," Rodney said. "We'll get there. I'll call you when we land."

"I can't pick you up - I'm still driving the Mustang."

Rodney gave him a short laugh. "Don't worry; we'll arrange everything. We've got that whole government influence thing going on."

"Okay," Pete said. "Call me when you know." He flipped his phone shut, then walked into the coffee shop to get his and Geoffrey's usual order to take back to rehearsal.

"Take five," Geoffrey told the actors when he saw Pete come in. He sat down on the lip of the thrust that stuck out from the stage.

Pete walked to him and handed over the coffee. Geoffrey bent down to pay for it with a kiss. Pete leaned one elbow on Geoffrey's knee.

"Looks like we're going to have houseguests," he said.

Rodney watched as John flew the small plane. John's eyes swept over the controls, up to the horizon, and then back over the controls. They had talked a little at the beginning of the flight, but they didn't have much to say. Besides, Rodney was just as happy to watch John do something he loved.

Sam Carter, of all people, had arranged for the plane and for John's pilot's license to be updated, and for a rental car to be waiting at Red Lake. She hadn't once asked why they were going, she'd just done everything efficiently and quietly, and she'd squeezed Rodney's shoulder as he and John had left the Mountain.

Rodney watched the green of the trees and the blue of the lake unfold under them as John banked the plane to give them the best view as they came in for a landing at the small airport.

Pete was pacing nervously and Geoffrey was sprawled on the couch not reading the script in his hand when the doorbell rang.

Pete opened the door, and stared at Rodney for a second before grabbing him in a hug. Rodney hesitated a little before hugging back just as hard. "God, Rodney," Pete said softly. "It's good to see you."

Rodney just brought a hand up to cradle the back of Pete's neck and held on. Pete looked down to see a hand resting on Rodney's shoulder, and he pulled back gently. "Come in," he said.

When they did, Pete found himself staring at the man who had to be John.

"I know, I know," Rodney said, sounding a little like his old self. "Uncanny resemblance, you have better hair."

Pete reflexively touched his hair and laughed when John did the same. "John Sheppard," the man said, holding out a hand.

"Pete Sherman." Pete felt a soft touch on the small of his back. "And this is Geoffrey. Geoffrey Tennant."

They did the polite handshake dance, and finally moved further into the apartment. Pete and Geoffrey had given up Geoffrey's small place after exactly two weeks of living basically in each others' pockets. The new place was spacious and full of light, and it had a large master suite and an office for each of them. It also had a large balcony that faced west.

"Beer?" Geoffrey said, and they all nodded. Rodney smiled at Pete when he was handed a Maverick.

"I see that you've become a real Canadian," Rodney said, sipping his beer. "I approve."

"This stuff's not bad," John said, and he smirked when Rodney elbowed him in the side and called him a philistine.

A sort of uncomfortable silence descended. Pete broke it by tilting his head and looking at Rodney. "So, what are you doing up here?"

Rodney and John exchanged a grave look. "We were...uh..." Rodney started.

John laid a hand on his knee and squeezed. "We were bringing a friend home."

"What have you been doing?" Rodney quickly asked Pete.

Pete smiled. "I write business articles for a few magazines," he said.

"And a crappy play," Geoffrey added. "Don't forget the crappy play."

Pete stepped on his foot. "Okay, and a crappy play. A really crappy play. Dumbass here is the artistic director for the Shakespeare Festival. Except when they fire him, which is about every eighteen months or so."

"Don't be modest about my accomplishments," Geoffrey said, giving Pete that big grin that still made his chest feel tight. "I've already been fired twice this year."

Pete looked up at the ceiling, then back down at Rodney and shook his head. "Are you um..."

"Yeah," Rodney said. "Same job."

The alarm on Pete's watch went off, and he looked at Geoffrey, who studiously looked away. "Rehearsal," Pete said.

"I could have sworn that wasn't until noon," Geoffrey said, cutting his eyes at Pete.

Pete nudged him. "You are a terrible liar. Go."

John cleared his throat. "Would you," he began, and Pete realized it was the first thing he'd said other than introducing himself at the door. "Would you mind if I came with you, Geoffrey? I think Rodney wanted to talk with Pete."

"Brother or cousin?" Geoffrey said, pursing his lips in thought.

John smiled. "Cousin, I think. Of the long-lost variety."

Geoffrey nodded. "Works for me."

Geoffrey and John stood up, and Geoffrey kissed Pete on top of the head before leading John to the door.

"Watch out for the rhinoceros," Pete called, and Geoffrey gave him a crooked grin at the oft-repeated words.

Once they were gone, Rodney looked at Pete, confused. "Cousin? Rhinoceros?"

Pete grinned at him. "He's going to tell anyone at the theatre who asks that John is my long-lost cousin, and the rhinoceros thing is an old joke."

Rodney took a deep breath, and Pete could see all of the animation fall away. Once it did, Pete recognized how fake it had been. He moved over to the couch and put his hand on Rodney's knee. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now," Rodney said. "Right now I'd like to take the Mustang out for a drive."

"By yourself, or do you want some company?"

Rodney elbowed him. "I didn't come all this way to be alone."

Pete led him to the small underground garage, and watched as Rodney drew a fingertip down the roofline of the car just as he did the same on the other side.

"I guess some things never change," Rodney said, but his eyes were sad, and his smile was fleeting.

Pete directed Rodney out of town, and to the open stretch of road that led toward the lake. He smiled when Rodney increased his speed, his hands sure on the wheel, his foot heavy on the gas. When they got closer to the lake, Pete directed him to a secluded dock he'd found when he lived up there.

They found an area of the dock that was shaded from the noonday sun, and Pete lowered himself down next to Rodney, their thighs pressed together.

"You want to talk about it?" Pete asked, looking out at the water.

Rodney took and released a deep, shuddering breath, then leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. "Yeah," he said. He drew in another sharp breath. "His name was Carson."