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Sheppard hefted his duffle bag, walking down the ramp as the wormhole closed behind him. Below the others were greeting friends and making plans. Others were arranging transportation or finding out what arrangements had been made to take them home for their leave. He reached the bottom of the ramp, already knowing there probably won’t be anyone waiting for him.

Surprisingly a familiar face was standing off to the side, hands shoved into the pockets of a pair of jeans. “Colonel,” the lighter haired man greeted him.

“Colonel,” Sheppard replied. “Didn’t expect to find you hanging around.”

Mitchell shrugged. “Didn’t have anything else to do today.” He motioned for Sheppard to follow him out of the gateroom. “Got any plans for your leave?” he asked as they strolled along the hall.

“Nothing super pressing,” Sheppard responded. He followed Mitchell into a small office, raising his eyebrows as the other colonel shut and locked the door behind them. “Should I be worried?”

Mitchell grinned as he backed Sheppard up against the door in answer. Automatically, Sheppard’s hands settled at the other man’s waist, hooking his fingers into the belt loops there. “Welcome back,” Mitchell said in a low pitched voice. “Pressing up against the darker haired main, Mitchell kissed him deeply.

Sheppard’s hands clutched at Mitchell’s hips; his fingers digging into the bones. As Mitchell continued to explore his mouth, Sheppard slid his hands down the other man’s backside.

Drawing back, Sheppard took a deep breath. “Hi,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting that here.”

“No?” Mitchell questioned. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked out of the Stargate.” He shifted a little as his jeans became more uncomfortable.

Sheppard grinned, pulling him back in. “I definitely wanted to jump you when I saw you waiting.” Another exchange of kisses resulted in more urgent grinding against each other. “Maybe we should move this to somewhere more private,” Sheppard suggested, although he didn’t release Mitchell.

Mitchell drew back, although he kept a hand on Sheppard’s body. “That sounds like a really good plan,” he responded. He reached down and picked up Sheppard’s duffle back from where it had fallen, slinging it over his own shoulder.

When Mitchell finally stepped back, Sheppard straightened his shirt before reaching for the door. Together the two headed down the hall, joking quietly about their plans for Sheppard’s time off. It all sounded innocuous, but they knew what would really happen.