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If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when? Political Science. I believe the heart of education rests within the hands of teachers, and TSAS recognizes and elevates this philosophy. It is a place where teachers give students the tools to grow and learn in dynamic classrooms. TSAS cultivates an environment of rich academic preparation while appreciating the unique needs and interests of the individuals we are and we want to become. I am honored to work alongside everyone who calls TSAS home. I have four children that has graduated from TSAS and two who attend.

I receive a word of the day email each day, because I enjoy learning new words as well as reading, cooking, and gardening! I chose TSAS because of the wonderful supportive teachers, administration, and other staff as well as the opportunities for personal and academic growth offered to students here. I see that students are consistently welcomed and their thoughts are truly heard! Interesting Facts: I love to hike, cook, and enjoy music with friends and strangers alike.

I worked in public history and education on the programming side for many years and learned a lot about what constitutes educational excellence. After a long term substitute teaching assignment at TSAS in I knew that teaching here would be my dream job, and it is. TSAS gives teachers the freedom develop innovative and challenging curriculum and the students are awesome! I chose TSAS for the environment of student-focused learning that it creates. TSAS seems to be a place where students are truly put before everything else.

After that building was destroyed by fire, Libby was instrumental in the rebuilding of TSAS assets and resources over the next several years. Libby loves spending time with her family, and is an avid anglophile! I appreciate the respect the administration has for both staff and students. I believe that it is a great foundation for academic success as well as personal growth. I heard good things about it from one of the founders. In the interview they asked what I would do with an elective, and I said I would love to teach Philosophy to HS students.

When they said that could happen, I jumped on it. I have a great husband who supports me with everything I do, and two daughters. I love dogs and cats, but I am allergic to cats. It is the most community-centered school I have ever stepped foot in and the family atmosphere runs deep. My goal is to open the door of possibilities and let students lead from there.

When I imagined becoming a teacher and being part of a school, this place is what I pictured. The freedom of the teacher, the encouragement of curiosity, and the positive interactions between students and faculty match what I wanted to see happen. This place feels like home to me. I dream about hiking and go occasionally. I love NY Times crossword puzzles.

College: OSU — Ph. I choose to work at TSAS because it is a learning community focused on the potential and achievement of each individual student. On an almost daily basis I am amazed at how our relational environment is supportive and encouraging to both the students and the faculty. Our school community is made up of people at every level of involvement that care deeply about intellectual pursuits, creativity, innovation and humanity.

This, coupled with an insightful and supportive group of colleagues who are dedicated to developing themselves and their peers, makes for a community enriching like no other. I chose TSAS due to its emphasis on the liberal arts as well as the level of autonomy granted to both its students and faculty. I was further impressed by the amount of electives, clubs, and extracurricular activities available to the students.

I also enjoy transition skateboarding, longboarding, and extended road trips. I chose TSAS because of the atmosphere and the unique oppurtunities provided to students and faculty. The faculty to student ratio is ideal and the support system that teachers get is out of this world! On the weekends you will find on the front porch with a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Reign Cane! I knew I just had to be in a place where the nature of the school was to nurture the individual to strengthen the community.

I can probably talk your ear off about most video games, movies, comics, or TV shows. I also randomly get a ton of beta test invites, so chances are I have played that obscure indie game you want to buy. Our Staff. What a picture of opposites they must have made at dinner last night. John looked at the hand that held the folder, the distinct lack of ring, and swallowed.

An SUV pulled up, and they only had to wait a moment before the elevator opened again, and Teyla stepped out. The hour-long ride to the Denver airport was surprisingly pleasant. Teyla fed the conversation in easy ways, and the silences never uncomfortable. John found it less excruciating than expected, but it helped that McKay was in the front seat, not squished in the back with the three of them. John shook his head at the casual mention of his planet, like she had visited so many others.

Then he realized she had. Maybe thousands? How do you speak English? And then what happened? Teyla would make a great interrogator. He heard Ronon huff a humorless laugh. McKay only made a noise of annoyance from the front seat. He had no idea what their life was like in Pegasus.

He thought back to the easy dinners, the way the three of them slotted together so comfortably. The Denver airport was easy to move in, and they once again went to the side of the security line. It took about five minutes for the TSA agents to look over their paperwork. This time they made a phone call as well, but in the end they were passed through without any further screening. With sweet buns and coffee, they waited at the gate, McKay discreetly using the machine John had seen before.

Teyla, was seated across from McKay, keeping watch the other direction. They were on guard, on a world that was alien to them. John closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He looked at the sky, needing the sense of space after days under a mountain and an hour rubbing elbows with McKay, pretending to sleep to the sound of clicking keys mixed with the constant engine noise.

McKay joined him a few moments later, holding car keys and trailing Teyla and Ronon. When they were on the road, John asked the question that had been bothering him. McKay had rented an Impala, black, for which Teyla had thanked him. It was big enough to fit the four of them, but felt more closed-in than the official SUVs had. John found it all more comforting than strange, and he found that observation strangest of all.

Security at Area 51 was like most base security, but with a few more layers. McKay drove the car to a large building deep in the complex, and parked it. They followed him, and had their IDs checked again at the door. It opened to a large hanger. There were bulks of odd shapes covered in tarps, hastily, John thought, because there was no dust on any of them. Something pulled him with a feeling like the Ancient tech in Dr. The ends were slanted, a flat bottom with a top shaped more like a quonset hut than a fuselage.

He walked around it, and the part that slanted back had a screen he could see into, with four seats arranged two and two. There were no visible controls. Looking at that, the design started to make sense, but he still had no idea how it flew. McKay cleared his throat, gesturing for John to step up the ramp. When his foot made contact, the lights came on inside, showing bench seats and storage in the aft, and an arch into the front compartment. With the second step he felt a pull to the controls, his heart starting to speed up, and he stopped himself, turning to McKay.

Does it fly? He turned around, looking through the big cylinder of the ship, and out the front windows. It called to him, and he turned away, closing his eyes, a taste like ashes in his mouth. John took a deep breath, bringing in the scent of strange machines, plastic tarps, and dust. He closed his eyes, remembering the awful screech of a rotor stuck in the side of a building, the swing and slam as the body of his helo hit the wall, twenty feet up, and the blades trying to turn until his bird fractured around him, the death screams of the machine and the people inside her.

You half fly this with your mind. Let me show you. He heard the steady clunk and rumble of the elephant door opening, and even with his eyes closed he winced at the sudden bright. John opened his eyes and turned, looking through the ship again. Teyla and Ronon slipped past them into the front compartment, settling into the back two seats like it was all familiar. John followed them, and with every step of his foot the ship lit up around him, revealed information, more than he could make sense of. How did anyone control this thing? Just think at it? Before the thought was finished, a heads-up display formed in the air, with lines, circles and boxes floating.

Can we be cleared for takeoff? McKay looked at John, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged, so he glanced back to Teyla and Ronon. McKay tilted his head up as he spoke to the control tower. Through this conversation John looked at McKay, feeling his own eyes go wide. He held his fists closed in his lap, and controlled his breathing as they streaked up, almost silently, toward the clouds.

Has shields, too, like that personal one we have for you. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. John knew he was setting the heading for an orbit around the planet, just like he knew most of the rest of the workings of this ship, a mental connection familiar from the device in the mountain, but much more welcome. You would know, he thought to himself. In this ship you would know if something had frayed a control line.

He closed his eyes, remembering again, details that made his body tense in sympathy. He had sprained his hand at the futile effort of trying to pull up and away from the ambush. He remembered every moment of the crash, of the Taliban pulling him from the wreckage. John blinked the stars back into focus and glanced at McKay, who was looking at him. McKay smiled his slanted smile. John lifted his hands to the HUD and started a barrel roll, the spinning of the stars the only indicator that anything was happening.

It was so different from a helo, yet comfortable under his hands and in his mind. He cut the forward motion and turned the ship toward Earth, the shape of her colors sliding into view, half in shadow, the lights of cities visible. It took a few minutes to orient himself. The world. He stared down at it, barely noting how Teyla and Ronon had come forward to look until a big hand landed on his shoulder. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He found the desert, started to try to find Las Vegas, but his eyes kept wandering back to the thin skin of atmosphere.

It looked so very fragile. The hand of a man born in another galaxy weighed warm on his shoulder, and his planet hung before him in space. Heat pricked behind his eyes. Rodney snorted. It is not a puddle jumper. That earned him an exasperated look, which only made John happier, but he surprised himself with what he said next.

John took them through the atmosphere, putting up the shields with barely a thought and a motion, reveling in the beauty of the plasma forming around them as the dove through the shell of atmosphere, the feeling of bursting into the clear sky, the overview of the planet narrowing down to the flat desert next to the mountains. John maneuvered the ship down until it hovered over the tarmac outside the warehouse, where the elephant door stood open. Easier than a helo, he guided them in, and let the ship set itself down with barely a noise.

His hands were up, going through the power-down sequence. Still have stupid stuff, like stealing. We need the whole thing. Small towns need a sheriff. John snorted at the word, sitting up and turning to face Dex. Do I get a badge? You have an impossible killer to catch. He looked at the thing and then up to John. McKay reached up, took the device, and handed it to John. It lit up in his hand, showing four dots clustered together, three white and one red, and a glow toward the right side of the screen.

He turned in the chair, and the glow moved to the top of the screen, the dots also keeping their absolute positions as the screen moved. John stepped into the office, to let the other three enter. Hendricks flattened his expression, and John knew he was not pleased. Hendricks walked back behind his desk, scowling. He handed John an envelope with a lump of key in it. John glanced at Teyla, who looked confused.

Their other Dr. McKay is in the records room. Pleased to meet you Mr. Dex, Miss Emmagan. McKay sat in a chair outside the office, looking at the screen of the little device. He stood quickly and put it in his pocket when they came out. Ronon and Teyla will want to see how things work around here. Maybe you could give them a tour? She drank it and nodded. John led them to the archive room. Jeannie had files spread around her, earbuds in her ears. Behind her a white board was covered with words and diagrams. Teyla walked up to her, and touched her shoulder.

Jeannie jerked her head up, scowling. John immediately held out the coffee, which made her smile. Close the door and clear the room, but maybe not in that order. There was a red glow at the end, and the shape at the muzzle was unusual. Just shoo out anyone else.

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When he emerged again, the gun had disappeared. There is no way one person could kill someone six different ways, all at the same time. Jennifer is pretty sure. John turned to go, then turned back. I, uh… Sorry. John caught looks aimed their way all through the building. Detective Sheppard.

What did I miss? One moment. It was his own office, after all. McKay was the guest. But the office felt smaller, plainer, than it had before. He looked at his poster of Johnny Cash, solitary and staring out. After this case, he would resign for good. Thinking about space and other planets made the parade back down to the records room even stranger.

They supposed to save you from the Sunday killer? John gave him a grim smile, but said nothing. When they arrived at the archive room, Jeannie was pacing, bouncing on her toes. That would even allow you to clean up. It would be even better if you had time travel with teleportation, which I think is a distinct possibility here.


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He looked back at her, his face composed in an expression of calm expectation. The people had no connection—all walks of life—and the places of the murders had little connection. Your guy was in a hotel room. Some people were in their homes. At least two were people in the workplace.

Age, sex, nothing consistent. She looked at him, as if surprised to hear him speak. If you draw a line between the centers of mass of the hands and feet, around the body, it makes an irregular polygon where the sum of the line segment lengths is identical. John walked around to look at the crime scene photos that she had drawn on. She pointed at the most recent one from his case, and then at an old one from LA. Jones, came down and laid out all the pictures of the bodies that had been taken standing at the head end. I had to extrapolate a bit to make sure I had the scale.

And calculating the center of mass of objects as irregular as hands is really more of a guesstimate based on overall body weight, but, regardless of the position of the body, the perimeter and area are the same. Within the tolerance based on necessary assumptions and errors. Three percent variance, maximum, and that may just be due to my need to infer because I only had photographs and overall body weight. Jeannie blinked at him. She was able to estimate the order of events, based on how fast each thing would take to kill you.

The gun shot wound is always fatal, but not quickly so. It comes third, because it bleeds, but more slowly. Then they get the blunt force trauma to the head. The knife is last. John thought about the pool of blood under the head of the victim in the hotel room. John shook his head, but he had to agree.

Jeannie kept her eyes on the photos. They ate together that evening at a diner John liked, and when his usual waitress raised an eyebrow at him when he asked for a table for 5, he just smiled. She led them past his usual booth to a round table in the back with six chairs. John looked at the counter, at his typical spot, and finally at the laminated menu with a slight sense of unreality. Like his office, the diner seemed different, and this new view of it, looking out from the back instead of across the front, just strengthened the increasing tick of last time, last time.

Dex had no trouble selecting a burger—gorgonzola, fried apples and pickled garlic scapes. One of the harder things about coming back after his time in Afghanistan was the sheer ease with which most people in the US lived, taking for granted things like running water. Teyla had mentioned worlds at different levels of development. We were not so advanced. John kept a straight face, but he could feel heat on his cheeks. Jeannie opened her mouth to talk again, but Teyla put a hand on her arm. It was more a feeling of Jeannie not wanting to put her foot in it again, and not knowing what not to say.

John pulled the envelope Hendricks had given him out of his inside jacket pocket, noting the apartment number. Maybe you can go with them, Jeannie? McKay can drop me at my apartment, since he picked me up. You can pick up your sister and take her back to the hotel by the station. John opened the envelope and looked at the apartment address, then gave Jeannie directions through the apartment complex. Wear it on Sunday. The both got out, McKay handing John his duffel from the trunk. For a moment they both held the strap, John surprised by how long they held eye contact.

McKay turned away, color rising in his cheeks. John stepped into his apartment, remembering his vague embarrassment the last time McKay had seen it. His apartment had been transformed. Sure, the uncertain couch was still there, and the TV was the same.

LION AND KITSUNE: SPACE IMAGINEERS. SPACE IMAGINEERS

The arrangement in the room, the framed posters on the wall made the place look like it belonged to someone else, someone with money and taste and care. They had a small budget, but, well. The surveillance devices are in all your new things. He huffed a laugh, because of the irony of getting McKay alone so they could see how well the surveillance had been installed meant they were not alone at all. McKay explained, and his voice was low enough that John had to take a step toward him to hear. And I kept seeing you in his songs.

Not that other Colonel Sheppard that I met. He was almost a square-jawed hero. Except when it counted most. Neither one of them looked away. But there were microphones and cameras, and this was not the time. McKay broke the gaze, walking over to the small kitchen and setting the box on the counter. McKay turned, and John saw his mouth slanting in a wry smile. Take care of them.

John stared for a moment at the closed door, then checked to see if there was any beer left in the fridge. Saturday morning John woke to the chime of the text noise. He looked at the time, , and then at the number. Before he could answer, his phone chimed again. John wondered how Ronon had learned to sign texts. Does T have a bathing suit? Will take her shopping after. Need suit to use pool.

Shopping with women was never his thing, but he hoped they could keep it to the point. Where would he even take her? He jogged over to their apartment and rang the bell.

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Ronon greeted him, that strange gun in his hand but pointing at the door. He watched Ronon put away the gun, and realized part of what he found so familiar about them: They were used to living in a war zone. If he planned to go with them, they would need to be sharpened again. They did four miles, a reasonable workout for John, but Ronon barely looked winded. They parted with a plan to meet in another half hour for breakfast.

Teyla had a fruit and cottage cheese plate, and Ronon ordered a crab and avocado omelette, and when it arrived, asked which part was crab, and which was avocado, but John thought he knew full well. John again noticed how easy it was to be with them, and he let them lead him into stories about his job. They knew Cadman and Lorne, who had gone from the LVPD to Atlantis, and Ronon smirked when John told them about Lorne approaching police cadet training like a special op and blowing all the stats. Ronon cracked a grin. After, they drove to a swimwear store in a strip mall.

Ronon asked John to find him something appropriate, so he picked out a pair of brightly colored board shorts. They were decorated with a green sharks holding surf boards, saying Surf or die. Ronon raised an eyebrow at him, and reached for a red pair. John cracked a grin and put the novelty ones back, and taking the red ones from Ronon to check the size. He traded them out for ones he thought would fit. That made him wonder if Teyla knew how to buy swimwear, but he glanced over to see her already in conversation with a salesperson. After a few more minutes, she disappeared into the back with a small armload of things to try.

They stepped out into the mild heat. Fall was in place and it took the edge off the desert scorch. They leaned against the wall next to the door to the shop, and John looked at the sky. They finished quickly, and on the way out the door John heard a commotion from the other end of the strip mall. Before he could react, Ronon had run past him, taking down a small man and standing over him with his strange gun drawn. Where the hell had he hidden that cannon? When he reached Ronon, he could see a young man, caucasian, a gun on the ground near him, and a plastic grocery bag still clenched in one fist, the shape of money showing through the plastic.

He kicked the gun out of the way, and looked over at where Ronon was sighting down the barrel of his own weapon, red light glowing above the grip at the back. John sighed. The paper work on this was going to be hell. He pulled out his phone and called , identified himself as an off-duty officer, and gave the location. John heard that electronic whine as Ronon holstered the weapon somewhere at the small of his back, and swiftly picked up the scruffy man by the back of his shirt.

The next things that happen should be boring and calm. Officers arrive, everyone gives statements, and then they cart him off to a holding cell. The more the guy talked, the more John was going to have to put in his statement. Good thing Ronon here was able to tackle and hold him. They cuffed the man and put him in the back of the car, took their statements, and let them go.

Ronon and Teyla were quiet until the car doors were closed. Once you have the suspect in custody, you let the system work. John considered. If they knew about Ronon threatening him, if they wanted to see that weapon, it might not have changed what happens to that guy. McKay broke the silence. Have you tried it on? John walked over to the box, lifted the green crystal, and thought on at it, placing it over his heart where his badge would be in a police uniform. It began to glow green, and it stuck to the fabric of his T shirt.

He could feel his own face warming to hear McKay—Rodney—talk about getting ready for bed. He was surprised at his reluctance to end the call. He usually hated the phone. He glanced at the clock and saw They hung up, and John lay down on the bed, staring up into the dark for a few minutes before turning on the light and picking up the copy of War and Peace he'd nicked from the mountain. It was a start to a boring Sunday. Other than that, Teyla and Ronon stayed out of sight, trying to give the killer an opening, but nothing happened.

John stayed up until midnight, tense and pacing, then turned off the shield and checked in with Ronon and Teyla first, then Rodney. John bit back something like Screw your psych profiles , and made himself take a breath before answering. Keller down first thing. Maybe we can use those, too. Part of him looked forward to having Rodney nearby again. Then he tried to sleep. He picked up Teyla and Ronon Monday morning, and went to the office. Ronon asked to ride along in a patrol car, and Hendricks allowed it.

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Ronon surrendered it too easily, which made John wonder what other weapons he had on him. Nothing else happened on Monday. John went about his usual routine, Teyla a quiet presence. We were lucky on Saturday to be there. You could see what happens when we have to do the harder police work. John called Hendricks and arranged to introduce her to Saavedra and his partner Whitford. They worked in Robbery, focusing on the Strip. His hawk nose tilted sideways as he looked up from his desk, then over to his partner.

Whitford was round and dark, with a shaved head and a goatee. Whitford stood and put out a hand, and Teyla shook it. Nothing interesting happened the rest of the day, and Tuesday was similarly quiet. No bodies had been found. They fell into a routine—morning runs with Ronon, breakfast at different places every day, paperwork, and nightly calls with McKay. The calls surprised him at first.

Rodney would talk about his day in oblique terms, lighting up when John asked a question. Wednesday night John found himself at his kitchen table with a pad and pencil, copying an equation as Rodney recited it. John went through the equation, looked at the resulting, reduced values.

It took a second before it hit, and then he laughed. Rodney was flirting with him via math. He could hear an answering chuckle. It will be great to have you in the city. He gripped my buttocks in such a way that his fingers moved deep between my legs. Teyla stepped forward, smooth and unruffled.

John admired her control. However, I have also learned that they consider themselves above other people, not in service to them, and that particularly seemed to apply to me. Your Det. Saavedra thought it appropriate to call me words related to sweet foods. I expressed today that I would prefer to be spoken to the way I speak to them, with their title and name. I have never been treated with this level of disrespect. Teyla glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. She leaned in a bit, taking territory over the desk and cocked her head slightly, waiting for an answer.

If I may be so indelicate, he grabbed between my buttocks and tried to insert a finger, even through cloth. Or provide a demonstration on you, if that would make matters more clear. Teyla straightened. Hendricks blinked, and shook his head, visibly turning back into the tough, unflappable captain. Did you hear about his stunt yesterday, running down that perp? Thursday afternoon they got the call. A body was found in an RV that had been parked in a casino lot. On his way out he asked dispatch to contact the patrol car Ronon was in and ask them to meet him at the scene, and for Whitford to bring Teyla.

He got to the scene about the same time the evidence van did, and Tameka stepped out of the passenger side.


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  • You want to know how the body is oriented? Also, I want to measure the distance between the center of the hands and feet. He said yes? I took him up in a gateship and let him fly it, and he asked where he could sign up. Jack grunted, and let it go. Carter and I have come up with a way to combine what she figured out about the large life signs detector with the little one. Jack raised a finger to cut off the technical discussion. He knew they would do it if McKay said they could. He was stuck on the first thing. McKay blushed, and Jack stopped himself from sitting back in surprise.

    McKay was a special case, though, and Jack glanced at his hand. The wide gold band was gone. Perhaps McKay had finally laid Dr. Elmo Cerutti to rest. We also worry about having Teyla gone from her people for too long. Jeannie was working at a laptop in the records room. John cleared his throat and knocked at the side of the door to get her attention. She held up a hand. She looked up after a couple of minutes, blinking. He set down a folder of printed photographs.

    It matches up. I also checked the position relative to North. Since the Middle school goes by a three day system, it made it difficult for me because at Thomas we go by a four day schedule. She was an excellent mentor and hopefully one day I could be her student teacher in the near future. Nicole's Senior Project Search this site. Mentor Bio. Mentor Meeting Logs.

    Time Logs. Photo Journal.