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Burnt Coffee

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He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost immediately regretting it. The smell of burnt coffee, dust, the little desk heater that was warming somebody's stinky feet and the faint tang of leftover orange cleaner was vile. Still, at least with his eyes closed the fluorescent lighting didn't hurt quite as much.

Stop 3 of 14 on his exit checklist. People not used to government bureaucracy tended to make fun of the many, many pieces of paper but a part of John was reassured by it. This particular office was where he turned in his squadron issued cold weather gear (different from his personal Air Force required cold weather gear which was different from his personal bought off the internet and better than the first two choices gear). Gear that had made it out of the duffle for inspections but otherwise went unused.

"Two pairs of mittens, two pair of mitten liners..." The airman was going down the inventory and taking things off the counter and dropping them into a bin.

Most of the exit checklist didn't need to be in any particular order. Only the last two or three stops needed confirmation and records from any of the others. He'd chosen to do this one early mostly because they had really limited intake hours - and he didn't want to haul the crap all over base.

"One pair, black, glove liners, arctic issue."

He'd already gone to the armory and signed off on the form that he'd 'turned in his 9mm' that he'd never actually laid hands on at all during his three months on duty here. His qualifications weren't due for another three and it isn't like the penguins shot back at anyone but the scientists trying to get too close to the eggs.

"One set of MOLLE gear, size medium tall, OD green. Three ammo pouches, rifle. One ammo pouch, pistol. One chest strap. One vest."

He estimated that it would take another day to finish all of the items on his list, and that was if he could get transport from stop to stop. Medical was after this - pick up medical records, pick up dental records, do exit interviews with doctors at both hospitals, confirm he didn't have any medications or ongoing medical conditions that were not being treated. Get another set of x-rays, go through the usual 'don't lose this Major Sheppard, it is very important' speech about the red folder with his medical Sentinel file (no really?). He sighed and opened his eyes, the clerk had stopped talking a while ago.

The airman was gone and the finished paperwork was sitting on the now empty counter. Fantastic. He rubbed at his eyes carefully and turned to leave. He took a moment to put on his sunglasses before he stepped out into the afternoon light.

Out-processing was going pretty smoothly. He might even be able to sneak in a meal today. Getting fresh food and more importantly, a choice of restaurants in Colorodo Springs was definitely on his list when he in processed at Peterson (official home of NORAD and the SGC's administrative offices). His flight out was scheduled for three days from now at 0700 on the usual C-17. Chances are he'd even be coming back here on a TDY to do more work at the Outpost before they went to Atlantis. Especially if that meant that General O'Neill didn't have to.

He let his mouth curl up in a half smile as the bus lurched around the corner. His luck was holding up, it was even going in the right direction for the BOQ office. Stop number 4 coming up.