Archive of Our Own

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He‘d tried to get out of it. He‘d claimed fatigue, exhaustion, and a host of other ailments. Sheppard had given him a long look, and that had put an end to the complaints. Rodney would go, but first, he had to fortify himself, now more than ever.

“There you are,” he muttered to the laptop hiding under his bed. It was his fourth favorite, which meant it saw little use, but he kept a few vital pieces of information on it. He really needed to get back to his Theory of Unification soon. Sighing softly, he called up his lists.

Of course he hid them. They were private, and the last thing Zelenka needed for his ego was to see a list of things he‘d done right over the years. It was, thankfully, fairly short.

Typing in his password – Einstein42, the genius, not the stupid dog from that moronic movie – he sat down to go over it all again. Rubbing his temples, he really was tired; he forced himself to read the entire list. This list was labeled, ‘You Are Pathetic,‘ and it was a wonderful way to bring himself down to reality, prepare himself for what lie ahead. Ever since he‘d thought Sheppard was dead  – again – the temptation to kiss him had been incredible, but he had to resist.

Number four on the List of Fail caught his eye – Sheppard punches me.

Oddly enough, that wasn‘t that one that really worried him. That was number sixteen – Sheppard gets Ronon to punch me.

That was the one that scared him. Taking several deep breaths, he shut the laptop and smoothed his shirt. It was time for team movie night, hell, absolute hell.

********

Right before he leaned, as the ending credits droned in the background, and the smell of popcorn still hung in the air, the entire list flickered before his eyes, so he shut them, and that‘s why he never saw number four coming. The shock of hitting the floor – it was hard – didn‘t prepare him for what came next, and it hadn‘t been on the list. If he lived through this, he‘d put that kick to the stomach near the top.

Gasping, retching, he spotted the open door and forced his body up and out before things got worse. The fury on Sheppard‘s face burned itself onto Rodney‘s retinas, but it was the muttered curses that made him run, hunching over and wishing he‘d read the list more than once, or even had it tattooed on his arm.

Running, falling around a corner, he slammed into something that shouldn‘t have been there. Two seconds later, he flew through the air and hit the wall. Nothing made sense any longer, and he struggled to breathe. Dots swirled in front of his eyes, and he was sure he could feel blood spurting.

“McKay?”

Number sixteen on the damn list that he never should‘ve ignored burst into technicolor around him, and pure panic galvanized him into action. Body parts screamed at him to lie down and moan, but fear was a healthy motivator. He ran, well, some of it was stumbling, through the fog of pain and down the corridor. The sight of blood on his hands made him fall. Trembling, his vision narrowed to one eye, and he squirmed into a transporter.

“McKay!”

A flash of light, and he lurched out into a deserted hallway. He kept on stumbling because he wasn‘t safe. They‘d find him. There was no place to hide from Sheppard, not on Atlantis. Rodney let himself curl into a dark shadow in a corridor that was still damp. He couldn‘t bear to touch his face – pain making him dizzy.

“Dr. McKay, please report to the gateroom. Dr. McKay, please report to the gateroom.” Her voice seemed to echo down the hallway.

“Hell if I will,” he said, spitting blood. This was all his fault – he was willing to accept that – but he wasn‘t going back for round three in what would be nothing but a beating. Groaning, he thought frantically for a solution, coming up with exactly nothing. Sheppard would expect him to try for a jumper or hide in the infirmary, or the lab. He had so little time.

“Rodney, this is Elizabeth. Whatever it is you‘re thinking, I need you to take a deep breath and report.”

His radio was long gone, lost somewhere between fists, but he wouldn‘t have answered her anyway. He knew where he had to go, and he could only hope he had enough of a lead to make it there. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, and he wanted to lie down for an hour or so. Moving was one of the hardest things he‘d ever done, right up there with arrows in his ass and facing Sheppard after destroying most of a solar system.

“Dr. McKay? Are you all right?”

He was almost relieved to hear such a moronic question. “No,” he whispered. Grabbing arms made him yowl, but he needed the help. It had been a long walk to the pier where the Daedalus was parked, and he really needed to fall down now.

“Dr. McKay, what the hell is going on here?”

“My fault,” Rodney said, trying to swing his face around so he could see Caldwell. “My fault!”

“Get him to the infirmary,” Caldwell snapped, “before he bleeds all over my ship.”

“Colonel, keep them away. It was my fault.” Rodney tried to make him understand, but his mouth was full of blood again, and he was afraid he was mumbling.

“Dr. Weir, Dr. McKay is being escorted to the infirmary aboard the Daedalus.”

Rodney nearly fell down, keeping his feet only because someone had hold of him. Passing out wasn‘t going to happen. He‘d been injured enough to know that, but he was glad for the helping hand to the Daedalus‘s infirmary. He groaned as he sat on the gurney, cursing himself for never considering that numbers on his list might join up to beat the crap out of him. Stupid, stupid mistake.

A flashlight flickered across his eye, and he blinked. “Ow,” he muttered.

“Don‘t move your mouth.” A strong hand caught him by the jaw, and he tried very hard to yowl.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

It was amazing how fast more panic could course through his blood stream, providing adrenaline, and he got the hell off the gurney. Hands grabbed at him, and he shoved them all away.

“McKay, we need to talk,” Sheppard said, frowning; Ronon close by. Both of them looked angry, and Rodney tried to get further back.

“I had an accident in one of my labs, and I don‘t really see how this is your doing, and go away!” Rodney put some nurses between them. He could barely breathe, but he knew he was safe here. Caldwell and his strict adherence to the regulations would keep Sheppard at bay.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth said with a touch of impatience in her voice. “Come back to Atlantis with us.”

“No!” Rodney slapped Carson‘s hands away. He wasn‘t going anywhere with them until his legs were sturdy enough to let him run if necessary. “This is fine, and if you haven‘t noticed I‘ve been injured more than a few times since I came to this damn galaxy, now leave me alone while they wipe the blood off!”

“Good idea. Colonel, Ronon, Dr. Weir, clear my infirmary. I‘m sure Dr. Becket will have a report soon,” said Caldwell firmly.

“Come sit down, lad,” Carson said softly, reaching again, but Rodney didn‘t let anyone touch him until Sheppard was gone. Oh, he‘d be back. He wouldn‘t quit until there had been more words and blood. Rodney shivered; his future on Atlantis had disappeared right after 27 Dresses – damn chick flicks. If only he‘d agreed to watch Top Gun for the twentieth time.

“I want a report also,” Caldwell said.

Rodney met Caldwell‘s gaze. “Just keep them away. Please.” He saw that one little word shock Caldwell, but he meant it. A bare nod, but that was a good as a promise from Caldwell, and Rodney eased up on a gurney, feeling every ache and pain.

“No more drama, Rodney,” Carson said. “Lie back flat and let us tend you.”

“It doesn‘t hurt all that bad. Ouch! You moron!”

“Perhaps some painkillers would make this go easier.”

“You think?” Rodney felt a fresh spate of blood in his mouth. He gagged a little, and Carson put a basin close. Rodney spat in it and mumbled, “I should shut up?”

“Aye, lad.”

He did, but only because his mouth hurt, and they put a cool cloth on and under his lower lip. His hands might have been shaking so he hid them as best he could.

“Let‘s get an IV in him. He‘s not going to be eating with that mouth for a day or so.”

“I agree, and I‘m almost sure he was holding his side when they brought him in. Check under his shirt.”

Moving his hands quickly, he held the edge of his shirt down. He couldn‘t say why he‘d done it, but he didn‘t want anyone looking at him. Carson sighed loudly. “Would you prefer I cut it off? Be reasonable, Rodney.”

He tried to mumble something insulting, and he reluctantly let go. Carson‘s hands were gentle but it still hurt. Holding still was hard, and he gasped for air, wanting to yell and thrash.

“We need to get him under a scanner,” Carson said softly.

Spitting out the bloody cloth, Rodney grabbed Carson by the shirt. “It‘s okay. Missed the ribs. I‘m staying here, damn it!”

“You‘re irrational.” Carson looked firm on that point. “Did you inhale some chemicals?”

“No!” Rodney wished he‘d inhaled something. That would be a much better memory than Sheppard‘s furious face.

“We have the portable scanner,” the other doctor – a woman – said. “Or we could have Hermiod beam him directly to your infirmary.”

Carson tilted Rodney‘s face. “That eye socket‘s damaged also. Get your scanner. I‘ve wanted to see it, and you, Rodney McKay, will shut up and lie there. I don‘t know what has gotten into you, but this is your health we‘re taking about, and I want you to try to remember how much that usually means to you!”

“Sorry,” Rodney said. He wasn‘t sure why he said it. “I feel dirty.” He did, and he didn‘t like it. He‘d sexually assaulted Sheppard, and he‘d gotten what he‘d deserved, but it hurt, it hurt, and he wanted to curl up, disappear. He winced at the push of the IV needle into his arm. The fury and horror on Sheppard‘s face thrust itself at him again, and he groaned.

“I know it hurts. Push the IV, please.” Carson patted him on the shoulder. Rodney shut the eye that worked and tried to roll with the pain. The hands on him hurt, and when it started to wash away from the painkiller he‘d been given, he was grateful. Carson whispered, “Won‘t be long and you‘ll be back in your lab, making people cry.”

“Not ever going back,” Rodney whispered back at him. He meant it, but he heard the snort of disbelief, and he wanted to explain. Carson was a good friend. He might understand the temptation that had wrecked Rodney‘s life. Rodney whimpered softly when something very cold landed on his face.

“We need to get the swelling down, and then he might need surgery.”

“I agree, now let‘s stitch up that lip while he‘s mostly out of it.”

Parts of him went blessedly numb, and he kept his eye shut to help combat the claustrophobia that came from two doctors perched on top of his face, doing God knew what with pointy things. It was hard to latch onto one subject, and he drifted from one theory to another, trying to understand how he could have been so damn stupid. He‘d made a list for crissakes, and he‘d studied it, and he‘d totally failed the damn test. Blaming it on Sheppard‘s pouty lower lip would‘ve been easy, but there was only one culprit here and that was Rodney‘s traitorous dick. It had given him mononucleosis once, and now this, and he was never, ever, oh, God, it hurt.

“Almost done,” Carson said. Rodney opened his eye, seeing only white and panicking for a moment before realizing they‘d put a paper sheet over his face. His tongue felt thick, and another shot of painkiller wouldn‘t have killed them.

“This was no lab accident.”

It was a bare whisper, but there was nothing wrong with his ears. He waited for Carson‘s answer, but there wasn‘t one that he could hear. Sheppard might tell the truth. He was like that, and Rodney wouldn‘t blame him. Atlantis was already lost to him, and if Sheppard spilled his guts, Rodney would be out of the SGC forever.

“Dr. Weir will be looking at surveillance cameras, of that I‘m sure.”

A tiny bit of hope trickled into him. The cameras in that hallway didn‘t work, and Rodney hadn‘t fixed them after Sheppard had given him a bag of chocolate Kisses. If Sheppard kept his mouth shut, Rodney could at least work at Area 51.

Swallowing with difficulty – he hated the taste of copper – he flailed his hand, trying to find someone to reassure him that he wasn‘t going to end up working for IBM, or worse yet, Microsoft, because of his dick.

“I‘ve got you, Rodney.” Carson held Rodney‘s hand, giving a hard squeeze. “You‘ll be fine. I‘d feel better if you were in my hospital.”

“No,” Rodney croaked. He‘d go home on the Daedalus. Home. No, he‘d go to Earth on the Daedalus and hope they didn‘t press charges.

“Report, Doctor?” Caldwell sounded impatient. “I‘d have given you more time but Colonel Sheppard is pacing a hole in my deck.”

“My office, please.”

That wasn‘t Carson, and Rodney refused to let go of him. He forced his mouth to work. “Screwed. Totally.”

The white disappeared from his eye, and Carson was right there. “Tell me what happened now, before they come back.”

“My fault.” Rodney was willing to say that. “Tell Dr. Weir this is my fault.”

“Damn well will not.” Carson looked disgusted. “And don‘t give me that malarky about a lab accident again.”

“True,” he whispered, and it was true enough. It had been an experiment gone horribly wrong – one that had blown up in his face. One that he‘d sure as hell never repeat. He had plenty of data now, all of it bad.

“Dr. Beckett, report to Dr. Weir,” Caldwell snapped.

Rodney hated that he flinched, but he couldn‘t see a damn thing on that side.

“Aye.” Carson gave him a small pat before leaving him. The silence that came over the infirmary was not a good thing, and he tried to sit up. Someone made the bed move him upright until he was able to look right at Caldwell, unfortunately.

“Everyone is gone, Dr. McKay, and I want the name of the man who did this to you,” Caldwell growled.

Sitting upright made all kinds of blood go to places that were starting to do more than ache. He opened his mouth to lie, and Caldwell interrupted, “If it were one of the scientists, you‘d have defensive wounds on your hands. You don‘t, leading me to believe it was someone you had no chance against. Add in the fact that you were running in obvious fear, and I‘m tempted to believe it was Ronon.”

Rodney‘s head spun. He had no idea what to say. Ronon had hit him, but it had been an accident, and knowing Ronon, he‘d admit it with a grunt, and everyone would know it was the truth.

“What‘s Sheppard say?” Rodney croaked. It was hard to make his lower lip move.

“So that‘s how we‘re going to play this?” Caldwell put his fists on his hips. “I never saw you as the type to cover.”

“All that matters.” Rodney had to swallow again. “Is that it was my fault.” He saw the flash of anger on Caldwell‘s face. “Permission to remain on board, sir?” It was the proper thing to say, even if every word was made of ashes from his torched life.

“You‘d rather return to Earth than explain what happened?” Caldwell stared down at him for a long time, his face grim, but Rodney was through talking. “You have two days to change your mind.”

Rodney nodded that he understood and wished he hadn‘t. His head felt like it might roll right to the floor. His guts ached, and he curled a little, trying to ease the pain. It was very possible that one of his organs had burst, and he couldn‘t help but be a little angry that Sheppard had kicked him when he was down, so much for an officer and a gentleman, which was another stupid chick flick.

“Let‘s get you cleaned up so you can rest. You‘ll be staying here tonight.”

Nurses descended on him like vultures, cutting his shirt off. Reduced to boxers, they put him in a gown of sorts that came no where near covering his ass, and he practically dived under the sheet and blanket. Then they cleaned the blood off, and he was glad he couldn‘t see most of what they were doing.

His hands were last, he was glad to be less sticky. “Water?”

“I‘ll get some ice chips. Your bottom lip is still numb.”

As if he hadn‘t noticed, but he didn‘t yell at her. She slipped one into his mouth, and he was pathetically grateful. “Thanks.”

“Get another cold pack for his eye.” Carson was back. “Rodney, are you feeling better?” He asked the dumbest questions sometimes. “I spoke to Colonel Sheppard. He‘s very concerned. So is Ronon.”

Rodney swallowed the last of the ice and wanted to say something but it all hurt, and he sighed instead.

“Dr. Weir is furious at them both.” Carson moved around the bed. Rodney refused to open his eye. He didn‘t want to hear this, but he couldn‘t run away. Gently, oh, so gently, he brought his hand up to his face, but Carson pulled him away. “No, don‘t. I‘ll be honest, Rodney, there‘s been a pool for years that Sheppard would break and punch you, but I never envisioned this!”

“He said that?” Rodney wasn‘t falling for any tricks. He had a hard time believing that Sheppard would admit to hitting him.

“No, but it‘s clear he did,” Carson said softly. “Caldwell wants him up on charges, Ronon too, and Dr. Weir has to do something. Rodney, please, we need the truth of what happened.”

The stupidity of it all washed over him, and he saw how naive it‘d been to think that his was the only career on the line here. If he let it stand that Sheppard had hit him, well, it could be bad. The truth, though, it would also be a terrible thing. Either way, someone was losing, and he couldn‘t bear for it to be Sheppard.

Sheppard had done nothing wrong. Nothing any normal red-blooded American wouldn‘t do when being sexually molested by a horny Canadian.

“Rodney?”

“Hurts really bad,” he mumbled. “Face.”

“Aye, it should. You‘ll have to speak with her.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, feeling it all slip away. Sleep settled all around him, despite the pain or because of it, he didn‘t know. He‘d tell her, and he‘d leave, and he hated himself.

“When you wake up.” Carson‘s voice was a thousand miles away. “How much did you put in his drip?”

He took a breath that hurt and slept. Waking up was much worse than falling asleep had been, and he moved his head sharply, unsure of where he was. Agony ripped through him, and he gasped, wanting to go back in time before he‘d been a damn idiot.

“Rodney?”

He‘d obviously been sleeping with his mouth open because his tongue was dry, and he tried to swallow some spit but he didn‘t have any. “Ugh,” he said, feeling the burn from the stupid. He brought his hand up to rub his eyes, and the pain was incredible. Jerking, he made up his mind not to do that any time soon.

“That‘s right. No touching.” Carson adjusted the bed, helped him settle, and slipped him an ice cube.

“Stupid,” Rodney mumbled, not knowing if they understood. His voice sounded odd, like his lips weren‘t working.

“Give him a minute. He‘ll get there.” Carson seemed to be everywhere, and Rodney wanted to scream. His mouth would rather he didn‘t so he skipped it. The ice chip melted, and he had another, and things were less fuzzy.

“Head hurt?”

“Yeah.” He‘d had worse, but it was pretty bad. “Coffee.” He needed it soon or his head would get worse.

“Not with that lip.” Carson was in Rodney‘s range of vision. “I‘ll get you some tea, with a straw, and no lemon, and maybe you can drink.”

“Crap,” Rodney hissed. He hated tea, but it did have caffeine in it. “Sheppard?”

There was silence. Elizabeth moved into sight. “He‘s confined to quarters. Ronon also. Just until we understand exactly what happened. They refused to tell me, and I‘m counting on you to tell the truth.”

That ‘we‘ meant her and Caldwell, and Rodney wished they hadn‘t hit him so hard. It‘d be easier to think. The good news was that if his eye twitched during the lies he was getting ready to tell, no one would notice. He blinked several times, marshalling his statement. It had to be somewhat truthful or no one would believe it.

“Team movie night. Ronon and Teyla left.” Rodney felt like a bug under a microscope; her eyes were so sharp on him. He had no doubt this was being filmed. “He made some crack about me crying at the ending. I told him that he was a jackass.” He could see her belief, and he chose his next words carefully. “He laughed. Said something rude about Canada, and I, well, smacked him.”

Her eyes flickered, and he plowed on, “I‘d been awake for two days! He probably thought I‘d duck when he hit me back. I didn‘t. I fell on top of his damn skateboard.” He probed his lip with his tongue for damage and cringed. “He still looked sorta mad so I ran, right into Ronon‘s back.” Now he groaned. “Never, ever, surprise Ronon.”

“Where was Teyla?” Elizabeth was looking for holes in his story.

“Dunno.” Rodney winced and tried very hard to sound whiny. “It was my fault. I‘m sorry, okay? Tell everyone I had an accident in my lab. Please.”

“Everyone believes they beat you up, probably for being a smartass.” Elizabeth sighed softly, and her shoulders loosened. “Why didn‘t he just tell me?”

“We‘re team.” Rodney saw the belief blossom in her eyes. “I screwed up, and Ronon did nothing but follow his instincts.”

“I‘ll have to put a reprimand in Sheppard‘s file.” Elizabeth looked sympathetic now, and he nearly sobbed with relief that he‘d pulled it off. “And yours.” She glanced now at Carson. “Are his injuries consistent with his story?”

“Aye. The contusion on his abdomen must‘ve come from the skateboard, probably the wheel.” Carson gave Rodney another ice chip. “There‘s not a man on base that‘d like to surprise Ronon.”

She nodded briskly. “I‘ll go file the reports and speak with Colonel Caldwell. John and Ronon will be coming to apologize. I expect you to do the same, Rodney.”

“I will.” He would grovel, and he‘d mean it.

There was a brief pause, and he thought she‘d leave when she suddenly rounded on him. “Why did you come here?” she snapped hard and fast.

He cringed down into the blankets. “I was ashamed,” he whispered. “It was stupid.”

“Now that‘s the truth.” Elizabeth eased away. “Get some rest. I expect you back at work very soon.” She left with Carson, and Rodney let his hands tremble.

Not even two deep breaths later, Caldwell‘s doctor was standing by the bed. He didn‘t like the look on her face. Her frown grew deeper. “A very pretty story, but I‘ve seen injuries from boots before, and you have one.”

“No,” he croaked. He curled as much as he was able. She examined him thoroughly, shushing his groans and gasps. “Stop touching me!”

“You can return to Atlantis today,” she said, snapping off her gloves. “Plenty of rest, fluids, and Tylenol as needed.”

She was throwing him out, and he wasn‘t sure he could face putting one foot on the floor, but he could go back. Elizabeth would file her reports, and everyone would laugh, and someone would win the pool. Life would go on here in the Pegasus galaxy. He gently touched the bandage over his eye, not surprised this time at the stab of pain. As long as he lifted his chin and pretended he‘d done nothing wrong, he‘d be fine. Miserable and twitchy, but fine, and no one was better at ignoring the facts than him and Sheppard.

“Good,” he said weakly. He‘d take a vow to never kiss another military man, or woman, and he‘d go back to work. He was indispensable. They needed him. Elizabeth had believed the lies, and Sheppard would never tell anyone that Rodney had kissed him.

“So, you‘re going back?” Caldwell had his arms crossed. “You‘re going back and pretend it never happened?”

“I was thinking about it.” Rodney clutched his hands together. For some reason, he thought Caldwell knew exactly what had happened, and that wasn‘t possible. “It was an accident. It‘s over.”

“Damn if it is.” Caldwell poured Rodney a drink of water and handed it to him. Rodney spun it twice before deciding to try it, and he took a tiny sip. It hurt, but he drank some more. In the last day, he‘d received a number of shocks, and Caldwell looking concerned was another one. “McKay, how do you know he won‘t do it again?”

Rodney prided himself on his ability to foresee every negative outcome of any set of circumstances, and it didn‘t set well that he‘d missed one. “He wouldn‘t.”

“This wasn‘t a tap on the arm. He was violent and out of control. I saw him. Whatever you said – did – pushed him too hard.” Caldwell rubbed his forehead. “Think about it, McKay.”

“All right, lad-” Carson practically screeched to stop when he saw Caldwell. “Am I interrupting?”

“I‘ll be on the bridge.”

Waving his hand, Rodney couldn‘t think of anything to say. With a certain sense of horror, he glanced down at his lap. Could he trust his dick around Sheppard? Or would there be another mistake, maybe in the ready room, and he‘d end up bloody – bloodier? Rodney met Carson‘s eyes.

“Am I okay?” Dumb question, really, but it was a start.

“You sound drunk, but aye, more or less.” Carson stepped close. “Your lip needed seven stitches, no internal bleeding, some bumps and bruises, but the worst of it is-”

“My eye.” Rodney wasn‘t going to touch it again. “I hit the wall hard,” he lied, but it came easy even for him.

Carson sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “That you did. You‘re going to need surgery.”

“What?” Rodney tried very hard to glare. “No. No way!”

“The side of the eye socket is really very fragile, and yours took a direct hit. You have a depressed fracture. I imagine there will be some double vision, but a competent ophthalmologist will see you right as rain in no time.”

It was almost funny that the things Carson wasn‘t saying were as loud as the bad news. The infirmary seemed very quiet, and slowly it all sunk in, and Rodney found a few words. “You‘re sending me back.”

“That‘s my recommendation, yes. We don‘t have an eye specialist here, and you need one. By the time you get to Earth, the swelling will be down, you can have surgery to repair the entrapment, and come back.” Carson looked away and then back. “I‘m sorry, Rodney.”

“I‘d planned to leave,” he said to cover his disappointment. For a minute or two, he‘d had some hope, but he should‘ve guessed it was too easy. “I‘ll be fine?”

“You will, and you‘ll be back soon.” Carson smiled as if he were trying to convince himself. “You‘ve spent far too much time in the hospital lately.”

“You‘re right. It‘s totally not fair.” Rodney crossed his arms, wishing he had some Wraith enzyme to help him heal, but it was a terrible idea. “She wants me gone.”

“Dr. Mason? She does not.” Carson snorted. He got to his feet. “She doesn‘t coddle her patients like I do, but she wasn‘t aware that we don‘t have a specialist. Dr. Mason completely agrees with my diagnosis, and she‘ll take good care of you on the way to Earth.”

He didn‘t want to go. Pretending nothing had happened would suit him better. “Who won the pool?” Red crept up Carson‘s neck, and he busied himself with other things until Rodney caught him by the arm. “This was my fault. I want you to believe me when I say it.”

“Well, I don‘t, but I respect your viewpoint.” Carson brushed his hand through his hair. “Chuck won the pool. Funny thing is; he looked embarrassed about the whole thing.”

“Maybe he saw the smear of blood on the floor.” Rodney really tried for sarcasm but he wasn‘t sure he pulled it off with a lisp. “I‘ll need a few things.” He made an attempt to sit up straighter. “Laptop. Laptop. Clothes. Laptop.”

“You have a date with my scanner, and then we‘ll do it. “

“I‘m hungry,” he whined, even though it wasn‘t bad. “I want more painkillers too.”

Carson laughed softly. “I‘ll miss you.”

Rodney wouldn‘t say it back, but he‘d miss him too. “Of course you will.” He had to settle back against the pillows again. For some reason, he was tired. “A little bit of enzyme and this‘d all go away.”

“Don‘t even whisper that, Rodney, or I‘ll beat you bloody myself!”

“Sorry,” Rodney whispered, and he was sorry about the whole damn thing. Next time he pissed, he‘d give his dick a good talking to, and the thought made him groan. “I gotta pee.”

It appeared that Carson had a list, and Rodney tried very hard not to complain as he was made to do one thing after another, but it didn‘t last long. “Damn it, Carson!”

“You rip those stitches yelling at me, and I‘ll have to put them back in.” Carson put his hand on Rodney‘s chest, pressing him down flat. That idea was horrific, and he collapsed. Carson made a pleased noise. “Now we‘ll see the truth of that bruise.”

“I‘m fine, you moron!”

“Your piss is decidedly pink!” Carson got him to hold still with the power of his glare.

“You shouldn‘t have looked!” Rodney would hold that against him forever. The scanner did its thing, and he held still, deciding not to sit up when it was over. He‘d just lie here and be embarrassed. The looks he‘d received as he walked to the infirmary with Carson had been almost more than he could bear. Pity. He hated pity.

“Need some help?” Ronon sat him upright, and Rodney did his best to brush him away. “Weir says I gotta apologize.”

“I heard.” Rodney had almost expected to be scared of him, but it wasn‘t any worse than usual. Ronon was a dangerous man, only a fool thought otherwise. Rodney shrugged. “So, apologize.”

“Sorry you tackled me.”

“Me too.” Rodney sighed, not surprised the apology was going this way. “I promise never to do it again.”

“Good idea.” Ronon grinned. He pulled his hand from behind his back. “I brought you jello. We good?”

Rodney took it fast. “Yep.” He could slurp it, if he were careful not to bang the spoon on his lip. He shot him a quick look to make sure he wasn‘t mad at him. “Thanks, Ronon.”

Ronon slapped him on the back. “Later.”

“Ow!” Rodney was careful not to spill. He was smart enough not to smile as he ate every bite, trying not to think that he‘d be leaving soon, maybe it could wait until after they‘d finished the upgrades to the power distribution system.

A spate of Czech curses made him look that direction, and he rolled his eyes as Zelenka bore down him. “How could you? You are-! What have you done?”

Putting the empty bowl down, he spread his hands. “It was a mistake, okay?”

“Very stupid. Stupid! How will I-”

“You will,” Rodney interrupted. The ache in his lip was getting worse. “I gotta shut up,” he mumbled.

“That he does.” Carson moved so Rodney could see him again. “I didn‘t find anything I wasn‘t expecting. Your immune system is still more depressed than I‘d like, but that‘ll take time. Go get packed. Radek, would you mind helping Rodney?”

“No. Wait? What?”

“He‘s shipping out on the Daedalus. I want to get your records up to date, so off with you now.”

Rodney slid off the table, wincing slightly from the ache. He felt about a hundred years old. The years were starting to pile up on him, and the mileage was killing him.

“You are leaving?” Zelenka‘s question was soft, unbelieving. Rodney nodded, and they walked to his quarters in silence. He palmed open the door, and Zelenka said, “I was not in the pool.”

“Really?” Rodney could see that Zelenka felt strongly about it. “You might‘ve won.”

“It is not funny to hit a man.” Zelenka adjusted his glasses. “You will return?”

It was a good question, and he wasn‘t sure how to answer it. Of course he wanted to come back, but things weren‘t simple any longer. He‘d made them complicated by kissing Sheppard. He could only shrug. He‘d have plenty of time to figure it out.

“I am screwed, yes.”

Pulling out a duffel bag, he started slowly packing. He handed his administrative laptop to Zelenka and said, “It‘s all in there. No password.”

Zelenka‘s eyes widened. “I will not mess up.”

“You will, but try not to kill anyone.” Rodney wasn‘t joking, and he could see that Zelenka knew it.

“Your eye. It hurts?”

He nodded and kept on packing, accepting help and trying not to worry that his door would chime and it would be Sheppard. Elizabeth would make him apologize. It was just a matter of when, and Rodney already knew he had no words beyond ‘sorry‘ and ‘hate me if you want.‘ He paused when he got to the gun he kept under his pillow.

“Remind me never to wake you.”

Rodney handed it to him. “Return it to the armory for me, will ya?” He wondered briefly if Sheppard kept one near his bed.

“I will.” Zelenka looked as if he might drop it, and the door chimed, and Rodney got it with his jaw clenched, which hurt like hell.

“Rodney, you are a difficult man to track down.” Teyla gave him a gentle smile, and it made him feel better about everything, unclenching the knot in his gut. Zelenka handed her the gun, and she took it with only a raised eyebrow. “Dr. Beckett told me that you are returning to Earth. I will miss you.”

His throat closed a little, and he nodded, pointing at his lip. Not talking about this might make it easier.

“He will come back, or I will track him down like wolf and bring him back.”

“I will assist you.” Teyla caught him by the hand and pressed it to her forehead. “Do not forget us.”

“Won‘t,” Rodney whispered. He managed to quirk half of his mouth in the approximation of a smile. “Be safe.”

She nodded and left with the gun, and Zelenka zipped Rodney‘s bag. “Do not pack any more, or I will be very angry.”

“Didn‘t know you cared.” Rodney tried to shoulder the bag, but Zelenka had it. Grabbing two laptops, he opened the door, and they went towards the Daedalus. He didn‘t think he had to report to Elizabeth‘s office. Carson would take care of that. Around every corner, he half-expected to see Sheppard lounging, slouching, waiting, but there was no one, and relief warred with caution.

They‘d been so close, even after that whole solar system incident that he‘d rather forget. Better than friends, or so he‘d thought. God, he was a fool. Pathetic even. He hadn‘t been hung up on a guy since college, and he should‘ve kept it that way. Just because Sheppard touched him, liked him, it didn‘t mean a thing.

After all, Sheppard hadn‘t seemed worried about the enzyme thing, and that should‘ve been the tip off. Rodney‘s list had sucked. He‘d make a new one, listing all the times Sheppard had made it clear he didn‘t care. That would help make sense of this madness.

Caldwell met them at the hatch of the Daedalus. “Looks as if you‘re with us.”

“You will return him?”

“Go to work, Radek.” Rodney took the bag from him. “I‘ll send you an email in about ten minutes.”

Zelenka nodded nervously and left quickly. Caldwell might‘ve smirked. “Got everything?”

Rodney didn‘t reply. Of course he didn‘t have everything. He felt his knees quiver, and he really needed to sit down. After all the injuries he‘d had, it was a damn kiss that got him sent back to Earth on a medical.

“Here‘s your cabin.” Caldwell opened the door. “Dr. Beckett says no working, but I‘m not even going to try to enforce that.” He snorted and strutted away. Rodney watched him go with a slack jaw.

By the time Rodney had unpacked a little and sat down to catch his breath, he felt the engines engage. No going away party, no cake, just a tiny cabin with a bed that his feet would hang off, and he wasn‘t even tall. His head began to throb, and he got up to go stare at himself in the little mirror. He recoiled in shock and then moved closer.

“Damn,” he whispered, understanding the pity now. It was somewhat amazing that it didn‘t hurt worse than it did. Carefully, very carefully, he peeled the bandage off his eye and face, muttering curses the entire time. The colors nearly blinded his other eye. “Oh God.” He could see now that Carson was right. Of course Carson was right.

Sheppard had done this to him. Hurt him. All this for a kiss. Somehow it didn‘t seem equal in pain delivered. His hands shook, and he took several deep breaths, trying to look away from his horrible face.

The door slid open, and Caldwell said, “Dr. McKay, before we break orbit, you have a visitor.”

Anger etched across Sheppard‘s entire body, and his eyes blazed. Rodney took a step back, spotting Sheppard‘s clenched fists. Bravery was one of those thing he wasn‘t good at except, well, never, and his knees went out. Fatigue, not fear, he wasn‘t afraid. Scooting back and away, he lifted one hand, just in case.

“Proud of yourself?” Caldwell‘s dry tone whipped across them both by the flinch they shared. It was easy to see that whatever friendship they‘d had was gone, and Rodney covered his eye – the hurt one.

“Sorry, McKay,” Sheppard ground out.

“My fault,” Rodney whispered, wishing he could yell a little. He scrabbled to his feet, desperate to regain a tiny amount of dignity.

Caldwell made a rude noise. “Right. Col. Sheppard, I want you off my ship.”

Every line in Sheppard‘s body screamed how furious he was, and he gave Caldwell a stony glare that would‘ve made Rodney run away. Caldwell returned it without a blink. “Hermiod, Col. Sheppard is leaving.”

Beams of light took him away, and Rodney felt all the air he‘d been holding whoosh out. He fully expected Caldwell to yell at him now.

“Get some rest, McKay.” Caldwell shut the door. Rodney stepped to the little bed and got himself on it. He‘d lie here a while, maybe until they reached Earth. His door opened again, and he stared, incredulous.

“Doesn‘t anyone knock on this ship?”

Carson smiled and then frowned, rolling his eyes. “You took off the bandage!”

“It itched.” Rodney sat up and waited to hear the bad news.

“You‘ll report to the infirmary every day, and keep ice on that eye morning and night, and I better not hear that you‘re a problem!”

“I‘ll do what she says.” Rodney wished Carson were coming along, but he‘d never say it. There was still a small sense of disbelief. “I really screwed up. I can‘t believe I did this. After everything that‘s happened.”

With a small sigh, Carson sat down next to him. “Rodney, look at your hands.”

Rodney frowned and held them up. “You‘re right. Thank God my hands are okay. My face, I can live without.”

“No, you daft fool. Not a single bruise. Not a mark. You, Rodney, are not to blame. I don‘t care what you said. No one deserves what you got.”

“You‘re wrong about some of it.” Rodney studied his hands, looking for signs of a struggle. There were a couple of spots that looked like bruises but he‘d hit the wall, the floor. He hadn‘t hit Sheppard. Rodney would remember that, all he‘d wanted was a kiss, or two. He wasn‘t going to tell Carson that. “Sheppard was here. He‘s mad as hell. Can you tell him I‘m sorry? He‘d have never apologized if Elizabeth hadn‘t made him, and really, he shouldn‘t have had to, and-”

Carson shushed him. “Rodney! Stop talking so much. I‘ll speak to him. Make sure his hand gets under the scanner.”

“Carson, please don‘t make him hate me more than he does. I thought maybe I could come back.” Rodney saw a strange light in Carson‘s eyes and he‘d said too much, but he couldn‘t take any of it back. He was very sure he‘d sounded like a fool.

“Dr. Beckett, we are ready to break orbit,” someone said over the ship‘s intercom.

“Rodney, get well.” Carson patted him on the knee. “We‘ll miss you.”

“Yeah,” Rodney whispered. He watched him leave, wanting him to stay, wanting this to be a terrible dream, and most of all, wanting his kiss back.

None of that happened, and he decided to make his way to the tiny mess hall in the hopes of finding some food that was slurpy. The shock on people‘s faces made him regret this decision, but he was hungry.

“Dr. McKay, report to the infirmary.”

The temptation to ignore that summons was incredible, and he did stop to get a coffee. He blew on it as he walked, taking a cautious sip right as he crossed into the infirmary. His lip burst into flame, and he almost threw it down. “So not fair!”

“Not a good idea.” Mason plucked it from his hand. “Nothing hot.” She hurried him to a gurney and waited for him to get on it. “Can you see at all from that eye?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. He felt the sudden shift into hyperspace, and it all became very real to him. Atlantis was behind him, perhaps for good. The horrible thought that Sheppard might insist Rodney remain on Earth popped up, and he groaned. It was time to stop pretending that he could return to Atlantis. He had screwed up royally, and he wasn‘t going back.

*********

day seven on the Daedalus

“Busy, McKay?”

“Don‘t you ever knock?” Rodney shut his laptop and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was embarrassed about the mess, but he was so tired, and while he understood that his body was healing, he didn‘t understand the complete weariness.

 ”Can I hope that Hermiod has requested my presence in Engineering?”

“No.” Caldwell engaged the lock – something Rodney should‘ve done – and moved in that slinky way of his to sit on the bed next to him. Rodney knew he looked surprised. He was. Caldwell spread his legs wide and tapped the side of Rodney‘s shoe with his own boot. “Are you hiding in here?”

Staring down at his foot, Rodney felt red creep up his neck to add to all the other colors on his face. He couldn‘t quite look Caldwell in the eye. “Everyone feels sorry for me, and I hate it. So, um, yes?”

“I thought so.” Caldwell didn‘t move his foot away. “Dr. Mason says you‘re healing, and she already has a doctor on Earth picked out for you.”

“So she says.” Rodney would argue about it when he got to Earth and saw the doctor‘s credentials. “I thought you‘d be relieved I‘m not pestering to you.”

Caldwell chuckled softly. “I thought you needed time to lick your wounds.” He leaned back on his arms, taking up way too much space. “Are you going to wise up and press charges against Col. Sheppard?”

“You have my official statement,” Rodney said stiffly. He wanted to demand that Caldwell get out, but he couldn‘t bring himself to do it. Perhaps he was lonely. Caldwell laughed, muttering about piles of shit. He laughed, and Rodney wanted to shove him away. “Go bother Novak.”

“You love him.” Caldwell‘s tone switched to a very low one, and his foot jiggled again. “What did you do? Touch him inappropriately? Sheppard went off like a firecracker, and here you are.”

Rodney crossed his arms and tried to raise his chin but it was hard when Caldwell was so close, sucking all the air out of the room. “He could ruin me. The SGC has a zero tolerance policy on this sort of thing, and I‘m glad you find it so hilarious!”

“I don‘t. I‘d like to punch him in the face, but the SGC also frowns on brawling among its colonels.” Caldwell frowned and shrugged in that way of his. “You‘re always so impulsive. Why didn‘t you just ask him?”

“Shut up!” Rodney discovered his hands were flailing and tucked them away. He opened his mouth to demand Caldwell get the hell out. “I thought he liked me too,” he said miserably. “He was nice to me!”

“Sheppard likes anyone who isn‘t by any definition normal.” Caldwell got to his feet, and that flightsuit looked painted on, and Rodney found some air to put in his lungs. “McKay, you want to get some dinner? We can talk.”

Amazement flooded through him, but he didn‘t want to misunderstand this time. Sheppard had dropped by and asked him to dinner about a hundred times, and it had meant absolutely nothing except that he was hungry. Rodney knew that now. He wished he‘d had a clue back then.

“Yes, it means what you think it does, and as captain of this ship, I can‘t have friends, only officers under my command. So, are you up to coming out of your hidey-hole? I promise to glare at anyone who looks at you with pity in their eyes.”

“If you promise,” Rodney managed. He couldn‘t quite believe the outstretched hand, but he took it, telling himself it was the painkillers and loneliness. “Not much I can eat.”

Caldwell opened the door, and they walked together without holding hands, and Rodney only flinched once when Caldwell‘s hand rested on the small of his back. Everyone blinked to see him, and he wanted to sink through the floor, but Caldwell kept his word, clearing the mess hall with nothing but his eyes.

“Your glare could chip ice.”

“You should‘ve seen my father‘s. He made people faint.” Caldwell took his tray and put his back to the window. “Does your side still ache where you fell on the skateboard?” he asked with skepticism lacing the last four words.

After a careful bite of mashed potatoes, he made up his mind to trust him a little. “Some, but my piss isn‘t reddish any more.”

A look of fury flicked across Caldwell‘s face before he locked it down. “And you protected him.” He shook his head. “Tell me why.”

It took some more food before Rodney was even willing to try. “We‘re team.”

“Were you?” Caldwell started to eat also. He paused between the meat loaf and the peas. “After you busted your balls to get out there and save him, did he even ask about you? Did he notice you‘d nearly died?”

“I‘m sure he was coming after me. It‘s not like we knew where we were!” Rodney snapped. The fact that he‘d wondered the same things made this whole conversation worse. “He wouldn‘t have left me to rot with Ford‘s crazy people.”

Caldwell made a tiny motion with his fork. “He never leaves people behind.”

“Never,” Rodney whispered and saw the depth of his mistake. “I was never special. Just another person Sheppard wouldn‘t leave behind out of duty. I thought … well, I was wrong.”

“I‘m sure he likes you,” Caldwell said softly. “But I‘m also sure he was never flirting with you.”

“Chess is sexy,” Rodney said without thinking. He nearly coughed up a pea in mortification. “I really didn‘t mean that.”

“I think you did.” Caldwell grinned. “I think it is too. Dr. Weir plays a mean game.”

“Did you? With her? Oh God, I need to shut up.” Rodney put as much food as possible in his still very sore mouth and swallowed more than he chewed. A big boot nudged him again, and he nearly spit all over the table. Caldwell‘s eyes practically twinkled, and it swept over the very small section of Rodney‘s brain devoted to social situations that Sheppard had never, ever, acted like this. This was … more than, so much more than … blatant. He swallowed again. “You – me – wait. What?”

This time the laughter wasn‘t obnoxious. “Relax, McKay. We‘re both off-duty. We don‘t work together, and there is no conflict of interest.”

“But you don‘t like me!” Rodney blurted. He didn‘t see how any of this was possible.

Caldwell didn‘t lose his grin. “I thought we had a good working relationship, even if you do yell a lot.”

“Of course I do, but we do? Well, yes, but you said-” He stopped, forcing himself to think clearly and coming up with damn little. “Huh.”

They ate in silence, but he had the feeling there was loads of subtext that he was missing. It was true, however, that he and Caldwell had done okay in the past, normal yelling aside. “You think I‘ll get to go back?”

“Do you want to go back?” Caldwell tilted his head. “Personally, I‘ve avoided environments where I get beat up, but perhaps you have different work standards.”

Rodney had given up on his glare days ago. “You‘re Air Force, which is by definition not a happy place for gays!” He could see – barely – that Caldwell wasn‘t impressed with that argument. “Have you ever been beat up for it?”

A slow, lazy shrug and Caldwell answered. “Not since high school. I learned some discretion and how to keep my dick in my trousers for long periods of time.” He paused. “I also honed my gaydar. Being Air Force helped with that.”

Tea nearly shot out Rodney‘s nose. He had to take several deep breaths in an effort not to choke to death. “Help,” he wheezed.

With a long reach, Caldwell gently patted him on the back. “Yes, I think you could go back, but don‘t expect to be friends with Sheppard, or on his team.”

The first part of the sentence hurt more than Rodney would‘ve believed and mostly because he knew it was true. It had to be true, but the last part wasn‘t. “I could be team.”

“You‘d trust him behind you with a P-90?” Caldwell snapped.

His first immediate answer somehow didn‘t make it through his teeth, and he sipped his tea to stall for time. Caldwell didn‘t look smug about it. He looked worried, even a bit angry. Rodney tried for a truly honest answer. “Yes.”

“I‘m impressed with your loyalty again.” Caldwell cleared the table quickly and efficiently. “Are you experiencing double-vision?”

The abrupt change in subject threw Rodney for a loop. “No!”

“You missed the mashed potatoes three times.” Caldwell refilled his coffee and sat down again. He took a small sip and grimaced. “What I‘d give for some decent coffee.”

“The tea is bad too.” Rodney sighed, feeling as if he‘d been slapped several times in the face during the course of this meal. “Yes, my eyesight is messed up.”

Caldwell didn‘t look sympathetic, and that helped. “I have to get back to work. Later?”

The question forced Rodney to look right at him. “I don‘t want to talk about Sheppard.”

“Me neither.” Caldwell got to his feet and smiled in that smirky way. “You can ask me to dinner next time.” He strode from the cafeteria – such as it was – and Rodney blew out a tiny breath. Caldwell was confident, arrogant, intelligent, and smug. Also? Sexy as hell. Rodney had noticed before but he‘d been too busy trying to catch Sheppard‘s attention to care.

Carefully, Rodney touched his injured eye, wincing against the ache. Those days were over.

“Dr. McKay, please report to the infirmary.”

“Crap,” he whispered, but he started that way, ditching the nasty tea. It was time for his nightly ice pack and check up. Mason never gave him a break. He went through it all again without complaining, noticing the odd look she gave him but unwilling to ask why. When he was released to quarters, he returned to his tiny bed and picked up his laptop. It was time to make a new list, and he‘d title it, ‘Ten Reasons to Grow Up.‘

It took over twenty-four hours for Rodney to get up the courage to walk to the bridge. Caldwell‘s eyebrows went up, questioning, and Rodney tried to sound normal. “Would you like to grab some lunch and go over the new power distribution schematics that Hermiod won‘t even consider looking at because he thinks I‘m blind?”

Caldwell nodded instantly. “I‘m going off-duty. Simmons, you have the bridge.”

“Aye, sir.”

Bumping into a console, Rodney tried to both get out of the way and walk with him, but he misjudged the distance again, hitting a wall, when his eyesight doubled up on him. Caldwell grabbed him by the arm.

“This way,” Caldwell said firmly, and Rodney let him lead, shutting his bad eye to help regain his equilibrium. At this rate, he was going to need a damn patch.

“Stupid eye.” Rodney flushed, feeling ridiculous, but he wasn‘t willing to tear his arm away. Caldwell‘s grip loosened but didn‘t disappear, and Rodney didn‘t protest because the warm hand kept him from hitting another damn obstacle in the way-too-small hallway. “This is why I stay in my tiny cabin.”

“Perhaps Hermiod has a point.” Caldwell steered him to a table. “Sit down. I‘ll get us some food.”

Complaining was the thing to do, but when Rodney opened his eye, the ship doubled again, and he let it die on his lips that were still sore also. Very gently, he rubbed his forehead and tried to settle down. Hyperventilating would make his vision even worse.

“Don‘t even think about banging your head on the table in frustration,” Caldwell said dryly. He set everything down within easy reach.

“Ha, ha.” Rodney tugged his food closer, peering suspiciously for citrus but seeing none. He pushed his tablet in Caldwell‘s general direction. “Seriously, look at that.”

“You‘re supposed to be resting.” Caldwell rolled his eyes but took it. “I‘ll pass it to Novak. Engineering wasn‘t my specialty.”

Almost against his will, Rodney found himself curious. “What was?” Of course he didn‘t care. He was making conversation for no other reason than he was nervous. Shoveling some food in his mouth, he winced a little.

“Major in History, minor in Military Strategic Studies: Air Force Academy, class of 1974.” He might‘ve had a smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, I‘m old.”

“Vietnam?” Rodney didn‘t rise to the bait, not that he didn‘t enjoy insults, but that one seemed both cheap and untrue.

Now Caldwell‘s eyes slid away. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

Rodney didn‘t want details, and he didn‘t think Caldwell wanted to hand them out, and they both ate in silence. Caldwell broke it. “No more working. You‘re making your eye worse by stressing it.”

“Excuse me, Doctor Caldwell?” Rodney was instantly angry. He would not not work. No damn way. Even Carson never expected that.

“Dr. Mason gave me a full report earlier today,” Caldwell snapped. He leaned closer. “She‘s making noises about putting you in the infirmary for the rest of the trip, so be a good boy and stop working.”

“I knew I should stay away from you,” Rodney muttered.

Caldwell made a noise that was close to laughter. “And here I thought we were starting to get along.”

“Oh, shut up.” Rodney tried very hard to give him a fierce glare. Caldwell returned the look easily and then shrugged. Rodney twisted his lips to add to the overall expression of displeasure.

“Give up. You‘re too purple and green to pull it off.” Caldwell reached with those long arms of his and traced his finger down the side of Rodney‘s face. Ache followed, and Rodney‘s tirade went off the rails. The touch had been feather-light, and it was difficult not to contrast it with the last touch that Sheppard had given him. His mind played a trick on him, and the fist came at him again. He ducked his face away, and Caldwell softly said, “Sorry.”

Another flashback slammed into him, and this one was Sheppard‘s incredibly insincere apology. It was easy enough to remember times that Sheppard had cared, but that hadn‘t been one of them. A pat on the back, a sarcastic smack on the head: touches that stood out in Rodney‘s memory. Maybe he‘d fooled himself that their relationship had recovered after Doranda. When Ford had captured them, Sheppard had cared. He had, but then – Rodney furrowed his brow, thinking furiously.

“I thought he was dead,” Rodney whispered, trying to find answers and doing nothing but going in circles.

“I know.” Caldwell rested his hand on Rodney‘s forearm. “The emotion clouded your judgment.”

Rodney nodded, agreeing. He couldn‘t help but stare down at the strong hand. “He never even asked me about the enzyme.”

“I‘m sure he read all the reports. He only pretends to be lazy.” Caldwell leaned across the table but said nothing else, and Rodney found himself somewhat comforted. It felt weird, but he went with it. Caldwell nudged a jello at him. “Eat. Rest. You have surgery coming up.”

“Oh, God,” Rodney breathed. He‘d wanted to avoid that reality forever. He ate the jello and tried to put his muddled thoughts in order. “Some sleep would be okay.”

“No more working.” Caldwell started clearing the table. He tucked the tablet under his arm and wrapped his hand around Rodney‘s elbow. “How about a military escort?”

It wasn‘t a good idea, but Rodney let him do it anyway. Caldwell gave a long sigh – probably at the mess – and pretty much put him on the bed. Grumbling, he toed off his shoes and and curled up on the side away from most of the pain. He was sure Caldwell would laugh at him, but there was nothing until a blanket settled over him.

“Sheppard‘s a fool.”

The words had been soft, hushed, and Rodney convinced himself that he was dreaming. When he bumbled his way back to a state somewhat close to being awake, he squeaked in real surprise.

“Novak said that other than several equations that were doubled, your ideas weren‘t entirely bad.” Caldwell handed him a mug full of coffee. “It‘s lukewarm, not hot.”

“Nggh.” Rodney took a drink, carefully sitting up as had become his habit over these last days where his guts ached. “Good. Wait. Bad?” He slurped some more, happy to have some, even if it wasn‘t hot. Leaning back, pressing his hand into his side, he finally had some sympathy for Alice in a Wonderland that wasn‘t.

“You‘ll get those stitches out tomorrow.” Caldwell, sitting at the small desk tucked in the corner, wasn‘t really looking at him. “I confiscated your laptops. Dr. Mason insisted.” He shot him a look. “You can yell. Don‘t hold back now.”

“Coffee is good.” He‘d yell later.

Muffled laughter and Caldwell stretched his back. He scooted the chair closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Tired, achy, stupid.” The truth slipped out, brought on by fatigue. “I haven‘t exactly been sleeping at night.” He drank some more, pathetically glad to have it, wondering why Caldwell was still hanging around. “Shouldn‘t you be ordering people about?”

“It gets old after a while.” Caldwell shrugged in that easy way of his that was often annoying. Rodney decided not to ask any more questions about why the captain of the Daedalus was sitting at his bedside.

“Hey, why don‘t people call you captain instead of colonel? Even when Kirk was an admiral, the crew called him captain.” Rodney almost cringed. He‘d just asked the dumbest question of all.

“Because it‘s stupid.” Caldwell looked very serious and then flashed a smile. “Because this isn‘t the Navy!”

“Oh.” Rodney had to laugh. “I guess the Enterprise was based on a naval tradition. Your ship-”

“Isn‘t a model on string!” Caldwell laughed with him. “You worry me sometimes.”

“Me? You‘re the one with a stick so far up your-” Rodney stopped himself just in time. He tried for a grin. “Never mind.”

Caldwell never lost his smile. “Like I haven‘t heard that before. The real question is: why are you checking out my ass?”

Coffee threatened to come out Rodney‘s nose, and he knew he‘d been played by a professional. He gasped for air, giggling, finally subsiding with a cough. Knowing better than to talk about flightsuits that looked painted on, he tried, “You win.”

“I usually do.” Caldwell eased up with a bone-cracking stretch. “I have a real chess set in my cabin. Would you care to join me?”

“Yes,” Rodney said instantly, without regard for the consequences that popped up in his mind a moment later. Innate caution made him quantify his answer. “Let me shower. I‘ll meet you there.”

Caldwell nodded. “Ball‘s in your court.”

Pondering that, Rodney sighed. “I‘m not really good at sport allusions, just for future reference.” He noticed that Caldwell left with that smirk on his face. Rodney tossed the blanket off, finished his coffee, and got his kit together to go down to this level‘s shower facilities.

The shower was no longer the horrifically painful experience it had been a week ago, but it still hurt, and he took the time to stare at his bruises. Rushing headlong into another friendship was most likely a very poor idea. Playing chess couldn‘t hurt. He winced, remembered all the games he‘d played with Sheppard, and revised that statement.

Taking a deep breath, he gently toweled off. He‘d be more careful with his trust. No longer would he give it away for nothing but a mug of mediocre coffee and a game of chess.

********

day eighteen on the Daedalus

“Dropping out of hyperspace, sir.”

“Excellent.”

Rodney wanted to curse, but it would be childish to protest the inevitable. It was almost time for dinner, and they usually ate together, so he‘d come up to the bridge just in time to get the bad news.

“Let‘s get caught up on the news,” Caldwell said quietly, near Rodney‘s ear. Rodney actually jumped, not realizing that Caldwell had seen him. “Are you okay?”

“You have no idea how much I don‘t want to have surgery.” Rodney had to swing his head to see him directly.

Caldwell put his hand under Rodney‘s elbow to guide him, as usual. “You‘ve told me every day you‘ve been aboard. I have an inkling.”

“Everyone is going to think it‘s hysterical.” Rodney felt like pouting. “I look incredibly stupid.”

“Stop pouting. You ran into a wall. Dr. Mason had to do something.” Caldwell had a tiny office, and they went there. Rodney sank down onto the only chair in front of a desk that took up half the space and touched the huge bandage over his eye and face again. If only he‘d seen that crate. Muttering to himself about morons, he watched Caldwell direct his attention to his laptop. There was clicking. Rodney‘s fingers twitched. Caldwell looked up. “No, you may not have it.”

“Crap.” Rodney hated how well Caldwell seemed to know him. “Anything for me?” He wasn‘t encouraged by the tiny grunt.

“You have ten from Dr. Zelenka, five from Dr. Weir, seven from Dr. Beckett, three from Teyla, and one from Col. Sheppard.” Caldwell raised his hand as Rodney lunged for the laptop. “Sit, or I‘ll delete them.”

“Come on!” Rodney almost jumped up to pace, but it was a terrible idea. One more impact with a wall, and he might be blind, not that he didn‘t trust the bulging protective shield hooked to his face. “Steven!”

Caldwell grinned. “Hang on, let me look again. Oh, there‘s two from Ronon. Let‘s open those first. You don‘t mind if I read them since you‘re restricted?”

“Not at all,” Rodney ground out, wanting to bash him over the head.

“Good,” Caldwell purred. He was enjoying this far too much. “Ronon writes: Bring pizza when you come back. The kind with circles.” His eyes met Rodney‘s. “His spelling is atrocious.”

“Satedan written language is completely different than English. I‘m amazed you could read it at all. He tries hard.” Rodney scooted closer. He wouldn‘t mind looking over Caldwell‘s shoulder.

“Next one.” Caldwell hummed very softly. He did that when he was thinking. “Okay, I think I got it. McKay, how‘s your face? When you come back, I‘ll teach you to block. Don‘t forget the pizza.”

Rodney couldn‘t help but laugh. “We share a love for food.”

“I can tell.” Caldwell suddenly tapped his earpiece. “Yes, he‘s with me. I‘ll see to it. Thank you, Dr. Mason.”

“No, no, no! I haven‘t even read the ones from Zelenka!” Rodney lunged for the laptop, but Caldwell shut it quickly. “This is so unfair!”

“They‘ll be there when you can see again. I‘ll send them an update.” Caldwell came around the desk and pulled him to his feet. “Dr. Lam wants to see you, and she means now.”

Caldwell didn‘t turn him loose for a moment, and Rodney was very tempted to lean into it. Some reassurance would be nice, but it might send the wrong message. Not that he knew what the message was. They were friends. He hoped they were. It seemed that way, and Caldwell made no secret about liking him. Really liking him in a very friendly, hands-on way that occasionally made Rodney blush. They hadn‘t done anything about it. Rodney didn‘t want anyone to see his bruises – one problem among many, of which Sheppard was the biggest.

“I‘ll have your things packed and sent down later.” Caldwell slid his hands down Rodney‘s arms. “I won‘t forget your laptops.”

“Better not.” Rodney was still mad about that. He twisted his thumb and almost against his will looked up into Caldwell‘s eyes. “I know you read the one from Sheppard.”

“I didn‘t. I wouldn‘t.” Caldwell touched him gently on the face. “Don‘t punish yourself anymore. He screwed up. Not you.”

Rodney didn‘t agree at all. He edged back from the touch, unwilling to talk about it again. They would never see eye-to-eye on this topic. “See you on Earth?”

“Never know. It‘s been a pleasure, Dr. McKay.” He tapped his ear piece. “Hermiod, beam Dr. McKay directly to the infirmary.”

“Wait.” Rodney lifted his hands, wanting to thank him. The trip would‘ve been so much worse if it hadn‘t been for Caldwell. Beams of light took him away, and he huffed in annoyance when he blinked in the infirmary.

“Wow, Rodney, you look like hell.”

He turned cautiously, recognizing the voice. Stepping to her, he smiled. “Hi, Sam. Miss me?”

“Nope.” She caught him by the arm. “Don‘t hit-”

Something crashed to the floor. He flushed, stopped, and wanted to die from shame. “Sorry.”

“Understandable. You can‘t see, as such.”

Unwilling to turn again to face General O‘Neill, Rodney put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I thought I was supposed to see Dr. Lam.”

“Behind you.” Sam pointed and smiled. “She thinks you‘re faking it.”

Rodney stayed where he was but turned enough to see the door. He suspected Sam was trying to be funny, but it couldn‘t hurt to ask. “So I can go?”

“Jack, we need to talk about-” Daniel came slouching through the door and stopped in his tracks. “Why does Rodney have a traffic cone hooked to his face?”

O‘Neill stepped into Rodney‘s vision. “His teammates beat the crap out of him, not that anyone was surprised by this.”

“Ouch.” Daniel looked sympathetic as a red flush slowly crept up Rodney‘s neck. Sam was staring at him with that expression she saved for naquadah bombs, and he wanted to started screaming and waving his arms. He wanted to, but O‘Neill‘s eyes were sharp, as if he were waiting for an excuse to get rid of him altogether.

“Yes, he has caused the pile of paperwork on my desk to increase three-fold.” O‘Neill sighed loudly. “And I hate that. Sheppard‘s report was the best of the lot. He said, and I quote, ‘I hit him.‘ Short, succinct, and the kind of report I can sink my teeth into.”

“My fault for all of this,” Rodney said miserably. This was like his worst nightmare only without the whale.

“This can all wait until after I examine him,” Dr. Lam said.

“Actually, it can‘t. He‘s waited three weeks. It can go another five minutes. Clear the room. McKay and I need to talk.”

Rodney noticed that O‘Neill‘s people still knew how to follow orders. Sam patted him on the arm but left quickly, dragging Daniel with her.

“This is the thing. I‘ve been around this man‘s Air Force for a number of years, and I know a gay-bashing when I see one being covered up.” O‘Neill wasn‘t drawling now. Each word snapped out as he drew a step closer. “Your video testimony is a pack of lies, and we both know it.”

“No,” Rodney whispered. This was assault all over again.

“I will not authorize your return to Atlantis as the matter stands right now.” O‘Neill shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. “Are we clear?”

Sinking down to the floor and cradling his head was what Rodney wanted to do, but he stiffened his spine. “I have to go back. They need me.”

“Too damn bad. I don‘t send people into enemy fire if I can avoid it.” O‘Neill turned completely around. “Doc! He‘s all yours!” With that, he sauntered out, and before Rodney could protest further, Dr. Lam had hold of him, and that ended that. He was poked, prodded, stripped, humiliated, and for some reason they thought it was odd that his blood pressure was high.

About the time he thought his head might explode, they forced him into an ambulance that would take him to a hospital off-base. He was reminded again of his non-disclosure agreement by a nurse who‘d been in diapers when he was pioneering wormhole physics.

“Relax, Dr. McKay,” some moron said, and he tried to release his death grip on the gurney. It might be days before they would let him check his email, and the city might‘ve exploded by then.

Sheppard had sent him an email. It was probably nothing more than a notice that he was being replaced on the team, but he wanted to read it.

“Here we go!”

*********

one day later

“Rodney?”

“What?” Rodney snapped, beyond irritated. He hurt, and he‘d never been grateful for Carson‘s painkiller policy until he‘d fallen under the regime of Dr. Lam, who thought too much Tylenol wasn‘t a good thing, much less morphine. Morphine. He tried to bite back a whimper. The side of his face that wasn‘t swathed in bandages hurt too, and he couldn‘t see who was talking. “Great. Now I‘m hallucinating.”

A green flightsuit folded into the chair next to him – right in line of sight – and he knew who it was before he met those twinkling eyes. “Okay, we read Ronon‘s emails. How about Teyla‘s next?”

“Oh, God.” Rodney flailed a hand at him. His hand was caught, and he squeezed. “You have a habit of showing up when I least expect it.”

“Part of my strategy to keep you guessing.” Caldwell let their hands slide away, and Rodney might‘ve smiled. He wasn‘t sure. Caldwell opened the laptop. “Teyla, then.”

Gratitude didn‘t seem to cover it any longer, and Rodney realized that maybe they were friends. He wasn‘t sure what he was contributing to the friendship, but he‘d take it. “Right, and how exactly did you manage to get by the nurses from hell?”

“I‘m a colonel.” Caldwell‘s finger were clicking the keys. “Novak and Hermiod initiated some of the changes you recommended. Ah, here it is. Teyla writes: Dr. McKay, you are sorely missed.” Caldwell looked over the top. “That‘s it.”

“I believe it.” Rodney was sure he was smiling now. He missed her too, even on days he didn‘t see her, she was a presence in his life. “I like her.”

“Doesn‘t everyone? If you don‘t, you go directly to hell.”

Rodney burst out laughing for what had to be the first time in days. He laughed until it hurt – it didn‘t take long.

“Number two: Dr. McKay, senior staff meetings are very quiet. Get well.” Caldwell chuckled. “She misses the noise?”

“I doubt it.” Rodney flipped his hand. “Keep going.”

“Greedy now.” Caldwell smiled. “Dr. McKay, Ronon wants me to remind you about the pizza. Also, the scientists are causing Col. Sheppard difficulties. Could you speak to them? Get well.”

Groaning was the only appropriate response to that email. “God damn it,” he cursed, angry instantly, and he wasn‘t sure whether he was mad at Sheppard or his stupid pack of scientists. “Not a lot I can do from here!”

“Zelenka will handle it. You know how Teyla always wants everyone to be happy.” Caldwell glanced at him. “Ronon has a real agenda.”

“If there isn‘t frozen pizza on the Daedalus when you get back, he may slice me to pieces.” Rodney tried to look pitiful.

“Relax, I already ordered a crate.” Caldwell didn‘t smile so he was probably telling the truth. “I sent them an update on your condition. It went out yesterday when they dialed in, but unfortunately, Zelenka sent ten more messages.” He sighed loudly. “How hard can keeping that yo-yo afloat be?”

“Oh, you are hilarious.” Rodney wanted to cower at the horrendous thoughts that were skipping through his mind. Zelenka and his team of stupids could be destroying everything. Rodney made a grab for the laptop, desperate to know how bad things were. “Give it!”

“Dr. Lam would kill me, and she, unlike your Dr. Beckett, would actually do it.” Caldwell blocked him effortlessly, pushing him back down. “I know why you‘re upset, you want to see the one from Sheppard.”

“Yes!” Rodney couldn‘t bring himself to deny it. His hands made grabby motions. Caldwell narrowed his eyes and then abruptly stood. He gently put the laptop on Rodney‘s thighs and went to the door. Rodney didn‘t hesitate. He scanned, found it, and clicked.

Hey, McKay

Don‘t punish everyone on Atlantis for my mistake.

Sheppard

Rodney had to take a deep breath, and then he deleted it so no one else could read it, if they hadn‘t already. Caldwell suddenly snatched the laptop, shut it, and tucked it under his arm.

“How are you feeling, Dr. McKay?” Dr. Lam narrowed her eyes. “Colonel Caldwell.”

“Just leaving, ma‘am.” Caldwell practically saluted her. “McKay.”

Words stuck in his throat, and he stared mindlessly at her. Sheppard had admitted it was a mistake. His mistake. He also thought Rodney was a bastard who would abandon Atlantis over something as inconsequential as a rejected kiss.

“Dr. McKay?”

He swallowed hard and wanted to pull the covers over his head. “Tired,” he croaked.

“Normal reaction to the anesthetic.” Her tone was quick, clipped. “Do you have a room here, or do you plan to return to your apartment?”

That was something he hadn‘t even considered, but she had a look in her eye that was evil, so he went the diplomatic route. “My things were on the Daedalus.”

“I‘ll make sure they‘re beamed down. I prefer you stay on base until you‘re healed, and we‘ve done a thorough assessment of your vision.” She referenced the chart hanging on the end of the bed. “No working. None.”

“But I have one good eye!” Rodney found his voice enough to protest. He‘d go crazy stuck in this mountain with nothing to do but stare at the walls.

She instantly shook her head. “It‘ll give you headaches and eye strain, and you don‘t need that.”

Rodney nearly flopped back in disgust, but common sense told him not to do it. “It‘s not that big a deal!”

“Surgery to put your face back together isn‘t a big deal?” Her eyes practically shot sparks. “Your vision could be damaged permanently! No work!”

“I think she means it,” Sam said.

“Of course you take her side,” Rodney grumbled. He wiggled his butt and tried to get more comfortable. Sam got him an extra pillow and helped him sit more upright. He did appreciate it, but he wasn‘t going to tell her. “Sam, tell her. I can‘t not work.”

“This time, I think you should listen to your doctor.” Sam whispered something in Dr. Lam‘s ear. Dr. Lam gave him a look that told him to behave or she‘d cut his nuts off and left them alone. Sam took a long stretch and then sat in the chair. “I answered all those emails from Zelenka. Thought you should know. Did you get Ronon‘s pizza ordered?”

“God, I hate you people.” Rodney shut his eye and let his arms hang loose. “Really, really hate.”

Sam laughed softly. “So, what did you do to Sheppard? And what do you think your evil horde of scientists are doing to him in retaliation?”

There was no doubt that she was a spy for O‘Neill. He briefly considered acting as if he‘d recently had surgery. “I smacked him,” he said weakly, “and those morons of mine probably tried to cut off his hot water. Could my life get any worse?”

“You shouldn‘t even ask that question.” Sam got him a drink of water and watched him sip it. “He broke your face. Aren‘t you angry?”

Grabbing hold of his patience with both hands, he tried to explain. “We‘re team. You know how that is, and it was an mistake, of sorts, and yes, I‘m put out with him, but it isn‘t the huge deal that General O‘Neill is trying to make it!”

She was quiet for a moment, and he tried to find some breath. Sheppard hadn‘t told anyone about the kiss, not yet, and Rodney sure as hell wasn‘t, and somehow, he had to get back to Atlantis. Sam shrugged. “Colonel Caldwell‘s report wasn‘t pretty. He never glosses over things. Not sure he‘ll ever make general but-”

“If I can do it, anyone can,” O‘Neill finished for her. “Beat it, Carter. Get McKay here some blue jello.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled brilliantly at O‘Neill and scooted out the door.

“Wow, you rate a private room. Were you yelling at people?”

“Maybe.” Rodney did not want to talk to him, no matter how charming he was. O‘Neill picked up the chart, flipping through the paperwork, and Rodney drank his water. At least his lip was healed. There was a scar, but they said it would fade. “I really screwed up, General.”

“I‘m sure you did. You seem to have some sort of cycle, like a lemming.” O‘Neill put the chart down and stared at him. “I warned Dr. Weir about Sheppard.”

Rodney abruptly didn‘t have strength for this. “Sheppard is a good man, a good friend. You want to punish someone? Punish me.” He felt like a tub of water and someone had pulled his stopper. His eye shut against his will, and he clutched the blanket. “I was stupid.”

“A difficult admission, I know.” O‘Neill‘s voice was soft. “Things are never easy with you, McKay.”

He didn‘t hear anything else, and the dark was a good place to be. Until the Wraith showed up, and he woke up yelling, scrabbling at his chest, panting, and trying to get the damn thing off his face so he could see!

“Dr. McKay!”

The hands that grabbed him made his panic worse. He screamed at them to turn him loose, but more of them piled on, and he struggled to throw them off.

“Rodney! Stop this now!”

He froze, responding to Caldwell‘s command. “Wraith,” he whispered, finding Caldwell in a sea of nurses.

“Not here,” Caldwell said firmly.

“I can‘t see. Can‘t run.” Panic turned to embarrassment damn fast. It didn‘t keep them from securing his hands and slamming a needle into his arm. “Damn it.”

Caldwell managed to get his hand on Rodney‘s shoulder. “You tore your bandage. Now lie still.”

“Can‘t see.” Rodney grabbed him and refused to let go. This time, drugs yanked him into the black. He woke up again, shivering, unsure where he was. Everything was blurry. Before trying to look, he wiggled his arms, but he was secured to his bed.

“You awake, Rodney?”

Sam‘s voice made him open his eye. “SGC, got it,” he mumbled, wishing he didn‘t remember everything that had happened since he‘d kissed Sheppard. He licked his lips, trying to deny that he still wanted him.

“Rodney, try to stay calm.”

“Let me loose, Sam. I gotta sneeze.” Rodney sniffed, cold and not sure why. “Seriously!”

She didn‘t look convinced, moving to the door and yelling for Dr. Lam. Rodney rolled his eyes and sneezed hard. “Blind and covered with snot. Thanks.” His teeth started to chatter, and he might be blind, but he wasn‘t stupid. “Some moron smeared germs on me. Great. Just great. You know, I give up. I quit. I‘m done.”

“McKay! Shut up!”

“You shut up.” Rodney sank down as far as possible under the covers. “I knew I should‘ve stayed in the Pegasus galaxy and taken Wraith enzyme to heal.” He sneezed again.

Two seconds later, Dr. Lam showed again her marvelous bedside manner. “Col. Carter, get out. Dr. McKay, your white blood cell count has dropped. We‘re moving you to ICU.”

“I am never going to pick on Carson again.” Rodney couldn‘t tell them to leave him the hell alone. Well, he had several times, but they didn‘t listen, and he was too tired to go over it again. “Turn me loose.”

“Why wasn‘t I told you had PTSD?”

“Because I don‘t!” Rodney protested the label. “It was a nightmare. Everyone has them!” He could tell she wasn‘t listening, but he didn‘t have PTSD, not much, not yet, but who wouldn‘t after being chased by Wraith.

“Gloves and masks, people. Let‘s get him moved.”

“Someone shoot me. Please.”

**********

four days later

“I need you to explain it to him. Use small words.”

“He‘s not military.”

“Not sure that‘s an excuse.” A pause. “I can‘t let it slide, Steven. As it stands, the IOA is insisting I bust Sheppard a rank and bring him home. My soldiers are not allowed to beat up the scientists, not for any reason.”

“You want McKay to take the blame.”

“I want him to tell the truth, and then I can find a way to work around it, but I can‘t do anything with the pack of lies he‘s spouting.” There was a long sigh. “Talk to him. He might listen to you. Find me a solution so Sheppard doesn‘t take one on the chin.”

“Because I‘m gay.”

“Because you‘re his friend, aren‘t you?”

His ears worked fine, nothing much else did, but he heard them clearly. The IOA was nothing but a bunch of meddling fools, and they‘d love an excuse to send Sheppard back to Antarctica. Every hour of every day since this had happened, he‘d held out hope that everything could go back to normal. Somehow. He clutched the blanket tightly and pushed his fist into his side where Sheppard had kicked him.

“My fault,” he said for the billionth time. He couldn‘t let Sheppard‘s career be destroyed for a kiss. He couldn‘t let Pegasus lose its best hope for a kiss. Ronon would kill him.

“How are you feeling, Dr. McKay?”

“Awful.” Rodney didn‘t bother to open his eye. “You knew I was awake.” He had to look but only for a second, and Caldwell had a mask over his face.

“Yes. General O‘Neill didn‘t. He‘s right, but he doesn‘t understand.”

“No, he can‘t.” His brain buzzed with problems, no solutions. “Are we friends?”

Caldwell laughed softly. “You tell me.”

Rodney didn‘t think they needed to hash over that. They were, and neither of them were the type to want to talk about it. “I can‘t ruin Sheppard. I‘ve been over it in my mind a thousand times, and that‘s the one thing I can‘t do. I-” He hesitated, hating to look stupid. Fussing, he sat up, opening his eye to see him. “I guess I didn‘t realize the IOA would get involved and turn this into a witch hunt.”

“If you had gone to Dr. Beckett and kept it in-house, it might not have, but that wasn‘t the decision you made.” Caldwell spread his hands. “Why didn‘t you do that?”

The answer to that was a painful one. “I wasn‘t thinking clearly, I guess. I thought he might hit me again, and I was sure my career was over – which it is.” He almost flinched as Caldwell tucked the blankets closer, got him another pillow, and helped him drink some water. Kindness that Rodney wasn‘t accustomed to, except that Caldwell insisted on it whenever he was here. “Thanks.”

“Rodney, trust O‘Neill. I know it‘s against your nature, but do it anyway.”

“Is that an order?” Rodney wasn‘t completely joking.

“Yes.” Caldwell didn‘t crack a smile. He scooped up his laptop and sat down to open it. “Dr. Beckett is on a tear. I guess he warned them about your suppressed immune system.”

It was a good thing that he was in another galaxy then.

“There‘s noise he might be coming here.” Caldwell met Rodney‘s gaze. “Is that honest fear I see in your eye?”

A nod was enough. “I gotta get well fast.” He coughed into his hand, feeling the burn in his chest. He‘d been in an isolation ward forever, and he wanted nothing more than to go home to his city. See the blue sky again, and the ocean, and forget he‘d ever stared at these walls – deep inside a mountain – for hours. His claustrophobia clawed at him. “Take this bandage off my face. Please. I can‘t stand it anymore.”

“Dr. Lam will murder me.”

“Fine. I‘ll rip it off myself.” Rodney raised his hands to do it, but Caldwell grabbed him tightly. Caldwell‘s face was close enough to kiss. Rodney gently touched his forehead to the other man‘s and said, “You should go. I can‘t be a friend right now.”

Caldwell‘s blunt fingers skipped up Rodney‘s arm to his face. “Hold very still.”

That was harder than he‘d thought it would be. The whole mountain pressed down on him until Caldwell pulled away, placing the bandage on a small metal table. “Impressive work.”

Taking a huge breath, Rodney tried to learn how to breathe again. He coughed twice, sipped the water given to him, and opened both eyes. “Scars?”

“You might have a small one, but nothing dramatic.” Caldwell stared intently at him. “Your face is even again. Vision?”

“It‘s there. Not bad.” Rodney looked at his hands, clutching, and slowly relaxed. “Read me another email and then tell General O‘Neill that we have to talk.” He was making the biggest mistake of his life, but it was his to make. “Please, Steven.”

“Not a problem.” Caldwell flashed a fast smile before picking up the laptop again. “And just for the record, if Sheppard ever hits you again, he won‘t have to worry about a transfer.”

Rodney rolled his eyes, surprised that he could. “Oh, way to sound like a Neanderthal, and seriously? You can‘t blame him for going crazy when I was trying to suck his face off.”

Caldwell didn‘t even look up from the laptop. “I hope you groped his tight ass for good measure.”

“I can‘t-! I can‘t believe you said that!” Rodney choked on his spit and coughed up a lung. When some air finally made its way back to his brain, he yelled, “Don‘t do it again!”

“Do what?” Caldwell played the innocent very well. “Okay, shut up. Zelenka sent you something good.”

“My emails are keeping the entire base amused, aren‘t they?”

“Yes.” Caldwell narrowed his eyes. “Here it is: Rodney, I have stopped the – a Czech word that I can‘t pronounce – against Colonel Sheppard as Dr. Weir was very angry when his hair turned green.”

“Oh, God.” Rodney went from aghast to laughing his ass off in two seconds flat. Caldwell‘s grin was wicked. “Sheppard‘s going to beat the-” He stopped because saying that in jest wasn‘t funny anymore.

“He continues: Lab Eight was destroyed-”

“What? No!”

“But I had moved your experiment out earlier, so all is well, except that Simpson has no eyebrows.” Caldwell hesitated. “You‘re not laughing.”

“It was funny the first two times.” Rodney sighed. He should be there. “Zelenka owes me a month‘s pay.”

“Spend money I owe you on-” Caldwell looked up again. “There‘s a list.” He sighed too. “Explain to me why he thinks I‘ll allow you all this extra weight?”

“Allow? Excuse me? Like you could stop me!” Rodney slowly wilted in the face of Caldwell‘s frown. “If I wanted to, which I … wouldn‘t, of course.”

Caldwell gently pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don‘t ask, don‘t tell.” He shut the laptop slowly. “I guess I‘ll put in the order, but you owe me.”

“I‘ll make a note.” Rodney owed him a lot, but he‘d have to think of something good. “Going up to work?”

“I‘ll go find O‘Neill – he‘s probably hiding in Daniel‘s office – and then head up to the Daedalus.” Caldwell eased to his feet, and for a few seconds, Rodney thought they might exchange some small token of affection, like a handshake. “Tell the truth, Rodney.”

Rodney nodded, not trusting his voice. He watched him leave, contemplating the irony of losing a friend and gaining one, both colonels, both stubborn beyond belief, and both with great asses. Ten minutes later, General O‘Neill interrogated him to within an inch of his life, and things snowballed from there until Woolsey – mask held firmly – stood over him.

“Let me get this straight: you sexually assaulted him and then filed a false report to cover it up?”

“You make it sound worse than I thought it was.” Rodney swallowed hard. “I mean, I knew it was bad, but I didn‘t actually lie. I did smack him – with my mouth. See? Not so much with the lying, and I didn‘t want him to look gay because, well, he‘s Air Force, and-”

“Dr. McKay, your loyalty to Col. Sheppard is admirable, but right now, I have no choice but to charge you with both counts. If you end up working at Radio Shack, count yourself lucky.”

Anger swept away fear, and he let it out. “Fine. Do it. I knew I was screwed from the moment his fist hit my face. Just leave him alone!”

Woolsey shifted, glaring. “It‘s barely possible I can find a place for you somewhere out of the way, but Atlantis won‘t be it. Col. Sheppard, however, will remain in his position.”

“We sent McKay to Russia, and he came back like a bad penny. I think the Pegasus galaxy is about right,” O‘Neill drawled, strolling in the room sans mask. “Are you really going to throw away the smartest man in two galaxies for a stupid kiss?”

Rodney had an intense desire to crawl from the room, and he would‘ve if the IV hadn‘t pinned him in place. He looked from one jerk to the other, not knowing what to yell.

“So Sheppard‘s heterosexual? You did always wonder. So McKay‘s not? He‘s Canadian. No rule against it.” O‘Neill shrugged.

“Someone has to be punished. Do you have any idea what it would look like if we don‘t? Like we condone sexual assault!” Woolsey glared over his mask. “Six month suspension and one month in the brig.”

“Hello? Not military!” Rodney would never take that deal.

O‘Neill shook his head. “He‘s right. One month confined to quarters here, five months serving on the Daedalus in some minor capacity. No pay. Unless! Atlantis needs him, and then he can serve his time there.”

“In their brig.” Woolsey raised his hand and pointed a finger at O‘Neill. “Take it or leave it. And I‘m putting it all in his record.”

“Don‘t I get a say?” Rodney whined. “Radio Shack is a nice store!”

“No, McKay, you don‘t,” O‘Neill snapped. “I‘ll take it, but Sheppard‘s name stays out of any and all reports.”

Woolsey slowly nodded. “I agree. He‘s the victim in this matter. Dr. McKay, one more incident like this, and you‘ll be brought before a civilian court, and if I find out it was more than a kiss, the deal‘s off.”

“It was a kiss,” Rodney grumbled. He should be grateful, but he wasn‘t feeling it. “I‘ll agree if you count all the days I‘ve been stuck in here alone.”

“Not going to happen,” Woolsey said without a moment‘s hesitation. “I would still  prefer him in the brig. It‘d send a strong message.”

“Yeah, that you‘re an ass.”

Rodney cringed, but if he played this right, he might not be so miserable. “The brig is fine. I deserve it, but I want a laptop.”

“No email access. Work only.” O‘Neill sighed loudly. “You knew I wouldn‘t let you have one in your quarters, right?”

“Right. Also, I‘d like a magic marker.” Rodney glared at Woolsey. “Are we done? I‘m due a sponge bath.” He enjoyed Woolsey flinch, and they left together, bickering. There was no reason to glare after them, but he did.

Horror at his next six months slowly seeped into him. Throwing back the blankets, he made his way  – IV in tow – to the bathroom to look at his face and lament his miserable future. Sheppard was worth it. Atlantis was worth it. They were, and Rodney was guilty. He mumbled those words over and over again, hoping they were true.

He stared into his own blue eyes, glad to see his face wasn‘t misshapen. Not long and he‘d be back to his handsome self. No double vision yet, and he knew he‘d be fine. Something had to go his way eventually.

“Dr. McKay! What the hell do you think you‘re doing?”

“I‘m reporting to the brig,” Rodney said, looking at Dr. Lam in the mirror. He had to get his sentence started so it could end.

“Over my dead body,” she growled, and he had the feeling she meant it.

“Take it up with Woolsey.” Rodney rubbed his hand across his face, happy to sic her on Woolsey. “I could use a shave.

She not-so-delicately marched him and his IV back to bed. “Did the nurse remove your bandage?”

“I insisted. Claustrophobia.” Rodney sat but didn‘t want to lie down. Against his will, he coughed into his fist. “I‘m fine.”

“You‘re running a low-grade fever.” She really did scare him, and everyone else on the base, and he meekly did everything he was told. When she was gone, he stared at the ceiling. Six months was forever, and it hadn‘t even started yet.

*********

three days later

“Come on, Woolsey!”

“No, he‘s been sentenced to a month.”

Rodney didn‘t put up a fuss as his wrists were put in cuffs. Woolsey would make his point. O‘Neill could protest all he wanted.

“I want him here every morning until further notice,” Dr. Lam said with steel in her voice. Woolsey didn‘t argue with her.

The hallways were clear, a courtesy that he hadn‘t expected, and he didn‘t drag his feet. He went through the indicated door and extended his wrists so they could remove the cuffs. “This looks suspiciously like my quarters the last time I was here.”

“No, sir. This is the brig.” They were so young, but they slammed the very solid door, and he shut his eyes for a good ten seconds, trying to convince himself that he was out on a balcony, wind in his face. It didn‘t much work, and he sat down on the cot with a grunt, careful to miss the laptop. He opened it slowly, trying to savor the moment.

The desktop was a picture of Sheppard with bright green hair. He was sure they could hear him laughing out in the hallway.

Caldwell showed up two days later, and Rodney wasn‘t surprised to see him. He was surprised to see the flash drive that Caldwell handed him.

“What‘s on this little beauty?” Rodney plugged it in fast before O‘Neill showed up and snatched it.

“Emails.” Caldwell smirked. “It‘s time for you to answer them. Before the men and women of Atlantis storm the SGC and carry you off to the Pegasus galaxy.”

“What are you on about?” Rodney clicked and groaned. “All of them?”

“I‘d say one each should be sufficient. They‘ll dial in tomorrow. Col. Carter said she‘d be happy to help.” Caldwell picked up the only chair, turned it around, and sat on it backwards. “Cozy prison cell.”

“Right.” Rodney couldn‘t bring himself to open any of them. “You told them?”

“General O‘Neill did the honors. Rumor is that Dr. Weir is furious. She felt strongly that it was a matter for her to handle. Of course, she always feels that way.” Caldwell smirked. “But seriously, this has fueled any number of heated debates about measured responses and appropriate behavior among co-workers.”

“Thank God I‘m in here,” Rodney said with real feeling. This was hell, and he‘d nearly banged his head on the wall several times, but being out there might be worse. “They‘re choosing sides.”

“Yes, and you‘re ahead by three scientists.” Caldwell rolled his eyes, looking disgusted.

Rodney didn‘t want to talk about it, but he had the feeling that if Sheppard hadn‘t hated him before, there was some hate there now that this had all been aired like dirty laundry. Caldwell crossed his arms and rested his chin on them.

“About that job on your ship?” Rodney asked, trying not to sound like he was worried, but he was.

“Scrub the deck, dust the 302′s,” Caldwell intoned, “and bring me coffee.”

“Why would you want it?” They shared a laugh, and Rodney relaxed. He shouldn‘t have worried about it. There were other things to waste his time doing. “I‘ll be under your command.”

“You make it sound dirty.” There was a moment of charged silence, and then Caldwell smiled. It was a relief. “We‘ve got a short mission lined up, and then I‘ll be back to pick you up so we can head to Pegasus.”

“With pizza.” Rodney tried for the joke. The next three weeks and five days were going to be very lonely. “Be careful.”

“Will do.” Caldwell got up slow and easy. He glanced up at the security camera. “Don‘t do anything stupid.”

“Wouldn‘t dream of it,” Rodney promised. He struggled to his feet and stuck out his hand awkwardly. “Thanks for all you‘ve done. Hope I‘m sane when you get back.”

A short pause, and then Caldwell took him by the hand, pulling him close for a brisk hug. “The flash drive is full of things to keep you busy.”

“Thanks.” Rodney didn‘t clutch him. They were friends, buddies, and nothing else. Nothing more, either, because Caldwell would never touch someone under his command.

Caldwell nodded, hesitated only a moment, and then was gone out the door. Rodney nearly yelled after him, but the Marines shut the door in his face. Oh yeah, he was in jail. Leaning his head against the door, he was so very glad his mother wasn‘t alive to hear about this.

Anger, shame, chagrin, and a host of other emotions stampeded around until Rodney was sick of it. He glared up at the security camera, wishing for Ronon‘s blaster. Yelling at them to bring him coffee didn‘t work. He‘d tried.

“Okay, doc, time for your daily checkup.”

Cursing at them would only fuel the rumor mill that he was crazy. He‘d save it for later. “Can we stop by the cafeteria and get coffee?”

They exchanged a look. “No.”

“I will tell the Geneva Convention about this mistreatment.” Rodney could see they didn‘t care. He fell into step, walking like a good prisoner and refusing to entertain fantasies where he made it to the gateroom and through the wormhole.

Today, it turned out, was a special day in the infirmary with an entire battery of tests planned, but he wasn‘t impressed, and he hastily made a plan. “I‘m not doing anything until I get coffee.”

Dr. Lam gave him a look that could‘ve killed Wraith.

He wasn‘t impressed. “Coffee.”

“This is your health!”

“Coffee.” Rodney crossed his arms. “With cream and sugar. A big one.” He lifted his chin. “And I‘ll tell you about my latest symptoms.”

Her eyes bulged. “Dr. Beckett already wants my license!” She took a deep breath. “Deal, but never again.”

“Every day, or you can count on my not showing up until I‘ve been dragged here kicking and screaming. Gee, think they‘ll hit my face?” Rodney shrugged like he didn‘t care. “Maybe they‘ll zat me, and I‘ll fall on my face.”

She had the meanest eyes he‘d seen outside of those creepy yellow Wraith eyes. “You will cooperate fully. No complaints!”

“Like that‘ll happen.” Rodney snorted. “I‘m waiting for my coffee.” He ignored his guard, sliding up on a gurney. “Waiting,” he sing-songed in that voice that Sheppard disliked. Dr. Lam crossed her own arms, but she underestimated his need for coffee. “I have all day. Oh, wait, Carson expects an update with the dial-in.”

Her will broke, and he controlled his smirk out of respect for her innate meanness. “Travel mug size would be great.”

Her snarl was the icing on the cake. “Evans! Get Dr. McKay coffee. Cream and sugar, biggest mug you can find.”

“Excellent.” Rodney rubbed his hands together. “As soon as I get it, we can begin.”

“Some trust wouldn‘t kill you,” she growled. She snapped on some gloves in a manner that was decidely evil, and he couldn‘t help but tighten his ass. He was sure she noticed from the horrible smile that teased at her lips. “Symptoms? Now.”

He groaned loudly. “I get pretty bad headaches when I read,” he mumbled.

Dr. Lam stepped closer and tilted her head. “I didn‘t quite hear you.”

A nurse handed Rodney an almost-large-enough mug of coffee with the words, ‘Doctors do it all night long,‘ on the front. He doubted it and took a big drink. “Thank God.”

“What are your symptoms?” Dr. Lam about brought the roof down.

“I get headaches! When I read!” he bellowed back at her. “And the double vision is back!” He drank some more coffee because it was the best thing in his life right now. She frowned and moved in on him, and he stayed focused on one thing – his coffee. It got him through all the tests, and he could only grip it mournfully when it was all gone. She took the cup with a look that told him he‘d get no more.

“You need to see an expert.” She left him there, and he swung his legs, not convinced this was better than his cell.

“Hey, McKay.”

“Hey.” Rodney waited to hear the laughter and insults. “Well, go ahead and make fun of me.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “For being in the brig? Not very funny, but I am a little hurt you never tried to kiss me.”

“Why? You want to slug me too?” Rodney could believe it.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged. “Here. Work on this in your spare time.” She gave him a flash drive.

It was easy to sigh dramatically. “Captive work force, I guess. I‘ll look at it.”

“Not right now. I‘ve got you an appointment.” Dr. Lam wasn‘t anywhere near fast enough to take the flash drive from him. “Airman, there‘s another detail waiting for him at the gate.”

“Wait!” Rodney could see that protesting would get him nowhere. “Oh, all right, but I want more coffee! And food!”

“Not in our deal.” Dr. Lam made a sharp motion, and Rodney went that way before Airman Hamhands got hold of him. She followed them to the door. “I‘ll talk to you when you get back.”

“Have fun, McKay!”

“You all hate me!” Rodney tucked the flash drive in his pocket. “Come by and get the emails later!”

“Will do!”

He put up with the stupid restraints and the total lack of communication, trying not to yell at the rampant stupidity. Their destination was a building downtown, and he felt his face flush as he was dragged into an office. The only good thing about being under arrest was the fact that he didn‘t have to wait. The doctor saw him immediately, beginning another barrage of tests. It was three little words that pushed him over the edge.

“You need glasses.”

“I do not! No way!” Rodney jumped to his feet, saw his guard react, and sat back down quickly. “It‘s nothing but headaches!”

“Brought on by a dissonance in the focusing of your eyes. The damaged eye isn‘t as quick as the other.” Dr. SomebodyorAnother moved away and began writing on a pad. “Strabismus in adults after a head trauma is rare, but I‘m sure of my diagnosis. Glasses will take care of it, and perhaps cure the problem.”

“Lazy eye? Kids have that!”

“So do you.” He smiled, but it wasn‘t appreciated. “Your glasses will be ready in about an hour.”

“Really? That fast?” Rodney rubbed his eyes, ignoring the clink of the handcuffs that his jailers had refused to remove, and he fully intended to mention that in a scathing conversation with anyone on the base who would listen. “I‘m not really a felon.”

“Dr. Lam is a friend of the family.” He edged away. “The surgery on your eye is a perfect job, never seen it better. Wear your glasses.”

Rodney did not want to hear that. “Do you have coffee?”

“I‘ll have someone bring you a cup while you pick out your frames. Give this to the nurse.” He handed Rodney a small stack of papers, actual paper. “And be careful in prison, Dr. McKay.”

“Oh, God, I am not even going to bother.” Rodney rolled his eyes, gestured sharply to his guard to get the hell out of the way, and went to find the nurse. She took the papers without even a ‘thank you,‘ and he went with his escort to find some frames that didn‘t make him look any geekier than necessary. They did bring him coffee, and he begged for a refill before deciding on some wire frames that looked nothing like Zelenka‘s. Gold was a good color on him. They nodded, leaving him, and his guard, to wait on seats that were ergonomically designed to hurt people. He sipped his coffee slowly. “I‘ll look distinguished, right?”

There wasn‘t an answer, but he hadn‘t expected one. He flipped through a magazine about beautiful people, idly thinking about kisses, glasses, and how he‘d never get a decent job on Earth again. Woolsey would see to that.

A mother and her daughter gave him, and his handcuffs, a horrified look, and he was very tired of his life.

*********

Three weeks, four days later

He absolutely refused to turn around to see who had deigned to come down to the bowels of hell to visit him. It wasn‘t as if he cared. He tapped the magic marker on his teeth and added another notation.

“Go away. I‘m busy.”

“I can see that,” Caldwell drawled, “and here I was going to take you to lunch.”

Something besides anger rippled through him, and he turned. “Hello, Steven.”

“That‘s Colonel Caldwell to you, Dr. McKay. As of this moment, you‘re a member of my crew, a junior member according to General O‘Neill.” He put his hands on his hips. “Air your complaints now, not in front of my people.”

Rodney considered doing that – loudly – but it wasn‘t Caldwell who deserved a good screaming fit. He went back to his equation and wrote in the last part. Finished. The middle part could use some work, but he was done.

“I wondered what the magic marker was for.” Caldwell scanned the walls. “You missed a spot.”

“Funny.” Rodney wandered to his laptop, but his concentration was blown and wouldn’t be coming back as long as Colonel Tightpants was in his cell. “Wait? What did you say?”

“You’re now a member of my crew.” Caldwell rolled his eyes. “I had to spring you a day early because we’re leaving at 0800.”

“However, this in no way indicates that what you did is acceptable.” Woolsey nudged his glasses back on his face, stepping through the open door.

That was the point at which Rodney’s temper snapped in half. “Listen, you moron, I am fully aware that-”

Caldwell stepped right in front of him. “He’s aware that he screwed up. End of story. Dr. McKay, gather your things from this mess. Now.”

“We still need to discuss his situation,” Woolsey said.

“My ship, my rules.” Caldwell made a sharp gesture. “Get a move on, Dr. McKay.”

“Yes, sir,” Rodney said as sarcastically as possible. He hated that he’d reacted instantly to the authority in Caldwell’s voice. He did the same damn thing with Sheppard, and it never ceased to piss him off afterwards. Quickly, he threw the few things they’d let him have in a duffel bag. He carefully tucked his laptop and power cord inside. The magic marker, he left on the bed.

Woolsey frowned when Rodney gave Caldwell a nod. Caldwell tapped his earpiece. “Novak, beam Dr. McKay up.”

He materialized in the engine room, and for a long moment, he didn’t move. Novak stared back at him, and he yelled, “What?”

“Your glasses look nice.” She edged further away from him. “Hermiod is gone. Technically, I’m in charge.”

“Oh, really.” Rodney glared, hoping it was still effective behind his glasses. “You’re going to give me orders?”

Novak swallowed hard. “Suggestions?”

“Maybe.” Rodney snapped his fingers. “I’ll need a headset.” He was out of that damn cell, and he defied anyone to boss him around. Novak tapped her ear piece and two seconds later, Caldwell was standing close enough to make him reconsider his earlier position.

“I’ll show you to your quarters. One bit of attitude, and you’ll find yourself back in the brig,” Caldwell snapped. Rodney nodded, hating that he felt cowed. He’d barely spoken to anyone in three weeks, and words clogged his throat. People looked at him, and it was all he could do not to snarl and snap. He was not a criminal. It’d been a gross misunderstanding, one that he’d never repeat. Caldwell opened a door and ushered him inside.

His cabin was tinier than the brig at the SGC. There were plenty of large cabins on this ship, so this was another punishment. He rubbed his mouth and tried not to tremble.

“I know you’re angry. Get over it before you report to Novak. You may rant and rave at Dr. Weir, but I run my ship with discipline. We’re too cramped for our egos to get the better of us.”

Rodney’s anger cooled, and he wasn’t going to repay Caldwell’s kindness with rudeness. “I’ll – I’ll do my best for you.”

“I was sure you would.” Caldwell eased back. “I had your things beamed here. Take a moment, get your bearings.”

Nodding, Rodney put his duffel bag down by the pile. There wasn’t much, but he was glad to see his other laptop. “They were going to get me two extra pair of glasses. Just in case, well, you know.”

“I’ll find out what happened.” Caldwell frowned, sloping his shoulders. “You didn’t want to take pictures of the equations on the walls?”

“No.” Rodney sat down on his extremely tiny bunk and hoped he didn’t look as panicked as he felt. “Blue skies,” he muttered. He shut his eyes and breathed. This was better here. He could go to the 302 bay if it got too bad. Now would be good.

“Yes, I’m on my way,” Caldwell said, clearly talking into his headset. “Dr. McKay, report to the infirmary.”

He nodded miserably. He’d go. At least he didn’t have to wear handcuffs or be escorted.

“Now, please.”

“Oh.” Rodney rubbed his eyes without taking his glasses off. “Can I stop to get coffee?”

“Why would you want it?”

A very raw chuckle fought its way out, and Rodney got to his feet. “Thanks.”

“Get moving.” Caldwell left first, and Rodney followed him out, turning towards the infirmary. Five months on this ship, and it hadn’t occurred to him until last week that he could’ve resigned. They would’ve let him. Maybe. He poured himself some coffee, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes and mostly being successful.

“You suck.” The whisper carried to his ears, and he didn‘t want to know who‘d said it.

“As if I didn’t know that!” Rodney took his crappy coffee and slunk off to the infirmary for another round of tests that were unnecessary. His eyes were fine, as long as he wore the stupid glasses. Dr. Mason didn’t listen to him, no big surprise, and he was thoroughly angry by the time he got to Engineering. Novak took one look at him and wordlessly handed him a headset and a clipboard with a list of issues that needed to be dealt with before they left orbit.

“Anything else?” Rodney raised his chin, ready to bite her head off.

“I had two uniforms delivered to your room. Welcome aboard.” She instantly turned back to her work station. Stymied in his attempt to yell at her, he scanned the list and headed for the first problem. He hadn’t intended to wear a uniform, but either way, it could wait.

*******

five days later

Sam Carter was universally accepted as the brain behind Earth’s ships, and Rodney was more than willing to give her credit, but some of these systems were shit. He hadn’t been invited to help with their design or production, and that had been a huge mistake on the part of the Air Force. He was down in the 302 bay, a good thing, fixing the plumbing, a bad thing, for the third time in a week.

“This system is shit,” he muttered, and then almost against his will he had to laugh. Making his way back to floor level, he pulled up a diagnostic on his tablet. Checking the maintenance logs, he saw that it was a recurring problem. Ten breakdowns per hyperdrive trip, and that was beyond annoying.

“Dr. McKay, a word?”

He looked over his shoulder, surprised at the interruption. His welcome on this ship had been far less than enthusiastic, and it wasn’t satisfying to rant at people who truly hated him, and from his count, that was everyone but Novak and the man waiting for him to say something. Caldwell had his arms crossed, a sign not all was well, and there was more than one person listening.

“Colonel.” Rodney put the tablet to his side. He bit off a rambling diatribe about plumbing and straightened his shoulders.

Caldwell took one lazy step. He had a way of looking sexy and dangerous at the same time, and Rodney wasn’t happy that he always noticed. Rodney wanted to look him in the eye and demand to know what the hell was so important, but it was Caldwell‘s ship, his loyal crew, and making them all angrier wasn’t smart. Playing the sycophant wasn’t the way Rodney lived, but he understood why people did it.

“Are you finished with your current assignment?”

Rodney couldn’t help but lift his chin. “No, sir.” He had vowed never to call Caldwell that, but it had only lasted until Caldwell’s XO had pulled him aside to explain about courtesy on the Daedalus and how everyone expected it of him, or there might be a short walk into an airlock. It had been an effective speech. Caldwell narrowed his eyes, and Rodney couldn’t help but notice that crewmen were stopping to watch.

“Time?”

Glancing down at his tablet, he could only shake his head. “An hour?”

“If we have to drop out of hyperspace to deal with this, I’m not going to be pleased.”

There were entire speeches that Rodney had given on how it was not his purpose in life to please people. “Yes, sir.” He really didn’t like himself very much. “Would you like me to radio you when I’m finished?”

“Get it done.” Caldwell turned on his heel and scattered the gathering vultures with a look. When they were mostly alone, he took one more step. “And then report to your quarters for a mandatory rest period. You’re not any good to this ship if you’re exhausted,” he said softly. His glare was still sharp. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Rodney had swallowed down so many words, complaints, rants over these last weeks that it was becoming normal. His sister would probably say that he was finally growing up. He was tired, but he hated his cabin. Caldwell gave him a bare nod and strode from the fighter bay. Rodney turned his back and went to work.

Working, he could do. Talking, he was learning how to fail at it. He was very sure that everyone would be grateful if he never spoke again. The anger that he should’ve felt at that wasn’t there, and frustrated he turned his complete attention to the job at hand.

When he finished, he found a nearby corner, slid down the wall until his butt met the floor, and went over the data again. He’d patched it, for the fourth time, but he had no illusions that it would hold. Some other system had to be interfering, and this time, he was getting to the bottom of it.

“Want a kiss?”

Rodney only glanced at the boots standing near him before going back to the problem. It was barely possible the hyperdrive itself was the source.

“Are you ashamed?”

He flinched away when the young airman sat down next to him. “Go away,” he ground out.

“Are you?” He was young, in his twenties, and he didn’t look angry.

“I have to fix this,” Rodney said, frowning. The guy didn’t leave, so Rodney gave him another sentence. “Of course I am.”

“My 302 has this glitch. Everyone says I’m crazy.” The airman touched him gently on the arm. Rodney was so shocked that he nearly dropped the tablet. The hand on him slipped away, and the guy gave a shrug. “He shouldn’t have hurt you for a kiss. It was just a damn kiss.”

“Your opinion.” Rodney closed the window and got to his feet. He’d figure this out later. “Which 302?”

*******

two weeks later

Ten minutes before the Daedalus landed on the pier of Atlantis, Rodney went to his cabin. Butterflies raged inside his stomach, and hiding in here for a week sounded like a perfectly good idea to him.

Five minutes before the Daedalus landed, Caldwell radioed him. “Dr. McKay, I’d appreciate if you remain on board until further notice.”

“Will do, sir.” Rodney didn’t think that would save him. They knew where the Daedalus parked. Thank God Ronon would get his pizza. Rodney took off his glasses, set them aside, and lay back on his bed. He’d rest a minute and then get to work on tearing out the plumbing relays.

“Rodney, please report to my infirmary,” Carson said via the headset.

“Hi, Carson.” Rodney didn’t open his eyes. “I’m not allowed to leave the ship, but I’m fine so don’t worry.”

“Bloody hell,” Carson said loudly. He clicked off, and Rodney took his radio out of his ear. Turning it off was the thing to do, but Caldwell might hurt him. Instead, he tuned it to a channel that Caldwell used for his engineers but that Atlantis didn’t have.

His door beeping brought him awake, and he moved quickly to get it. Caldwell rolled his eyes and stepped inside. “Now you sleep? Now?”

“Um, sorry?” Rodney checked the time. If he’d slept twenty minutes, it was a miracle. “I’ll get back to work.” He rubbed his eye and went to get his glasses. Caldwell caught him by the arm.

“I’ve restricted access to the Daedalus. I want you to stay on board.”

Rodney blinked in surprise. “I got it the first time.” He didn’t try to yank his arm away, slipping on his glasses. “I’ll be in the fighter bay and don’t be surprised if I have to move one or two of them out.”

“Sounds fine, but if you want to go back to sleep, you could.” Caldwell slowly released him. “And seriously, clean up this cabin.”

“Later.” Rodney gave him a very sloppy salute and left without looking back. That cabin was far too small for them to have conversations in it. He gathered a few tools, two tablets, and a bottle of water before going to the fighter bay. Relieved to find it empty, of people, not planes, he opened the big door because he could and stood for a few moments in the sunshine, not caring that he didn’t have sunscreen. A breeze swirled around him, and he breathed deep of the ocean air. For the first time in weeks, his claustrophobia went on vacation, and he relaxed a little.

“Excuse me, have you seen Dr. McKay? Colonel Caldwell said he was down here.”

It was easy to groan. Rodney turned and spread his hands. “Carson!”

“Rodney!” Carson’s jaw flapped open. “What the hell?”

“I know I look like shit.” Rodney still shaved, and the mirror didn‘t lie. “The colonel let you on board? Or did you sneak?”

“He let me!” Carson raised his hand, fingers twitching. “May I?”

Rodney wanted to say no, but it’d be easier to agree. He took off his glasses and turned his face to the side. “See? All well.”

Carson’s touch was gentle, pushing lightly. “Damn fine work. Still troubled by double vision?”

“I wear my glasses and when I don’t, my eyes are shut.” Rodney put them back on and slouched against the open bay door. “You okay?”

“Aye.” Carson looked him up and down. “I didn’t recognize you in that flightsuit.”

“I’m a member of this crew.” Rodney went back to staring out over the water. “I have work to do.” But he didn’t move towards the panels.

“You don’t seem yourself, and it wouldn’t have killed you to send a few emails!”

“I only had access the once, and my vision was shit.” Rodney had felt guilty about it for a day or two. “I told Dr. Weir to pass the word that I was fine.”

“You were in the brig. You’ll forgive us for being worried!” Carson had his hands balled into fists.

“Hey! Leave McKay alone!” Airman Lionel had Rodney’s back. “You Atlantis people need to stay home!”

Carson’s eyes bulged, and Rodney hurried to reassure his protector. “Lionel, it’s okay. Hey, do me a favor, will you? Call some of the guys and get these babies out on the next pier. I need to pull out the entire subsystem, and I don’t want to bang my head.”

“Will do, Mac.” Lionel gave Carson a glare. “I’ll throw him out, if you want.”

“Better not.” Rodney grinned. Lionel touched his earpiece, and Carson sidled closer.

“Rodney, who are your friends?” Carson whispered.

“Pilots, mostly.” Rodney took him by the arm. “Let’s get out of the way. Ear protection is a good idea also, unless you need to leave.”

Carson swallowed hard as several men trailed in the door and gave him a hard look. “I should go. Dr. Weir wants a report.”

“Okay.” Rodney smiled for him. “Thanks for coming over. Hey, tell Zelenka to send over my tool kit, if you see him. Would you?”

“Aye.” Carson stared for a long moment. “You’ve changed.”

“This guy bothering you?”

Carson fled, and Rodney found himself reassuring the kids – as he called them – that everything was fine. They had adopted him as some sort of mascot, after he’d spent hours and hours in the fighter bay, mostly avoiding his cabin. It was really odd that they seemed to like him, but pilots were weird, by and large.

“Want to go for a ride, Mac?”

Rodney blinked in surprise, but he wasn’t against the idea. “Can I drive?”

“No.” Lionel laughed. “We’ll do some maneuvers, and you can check our systems.”

“Oh, more work for me.” Rodney rubbed his forehead. “I’m worn out!”

“Right.” They all laughed at that.

“Flight, this is Lt. Samuels. We’ll be running a few diagnostics and landing on the West Pier.”

Everyone grinned and began to gear up. They were probably stir crazy after eighteen days of nothing, and Rodney didn’t mind running a diagnostic or two. He took the helmet that Smith – the only woman – handed him.

“We’re clear. Nothing fancy until we’re out of sight!” Samuels pointed at Rodney. “Ride with Lionel. He likes showing off.”

“Um, great.” Rodney quickly made sure his things were out of the way. Putting on the helmet, he scooted up the ladder and took the back seat. They screamed out of the bay, and he caught his breath as they arched over Atlantis. “Lionel, don’t make me puke.”

“No promises.” Lionel laughed, and Rodney braced himself and his stomach. The squadron ripped out of the atmosphere in perfect unison, and he took the time to admire the view.

“This is Flight. Would Dr. McKay be with you, by any chance?”

“Oops,” Rodney muttered.

“Flight, this is Lt. Samuels. Dr. McKay is running a diagnostic on Airman Lionel’s 302. I believe from the back seat.”

“Return him in one piece, please. Flight out.”

Lionel flipped them upside down. Rodney held on tightly and forced himself to laugh. They headed towards the mainland, making one fancy flying technique after another, but somehow he managed to spot the glitch when it popped up. It had eluded him up until now.

“There it is!”

“Got it.” Rodney couldn’t help but wonder if this was the 302 that Sheppard had flown so close to the sun. It might explain this anomaly in the navigation system. “Lt. Samuels, we need to return to the Daedalus so I can fix this.”

“Acknowledged. We’ll be along shortly.”

The 302 did a swooping dive, but Rodney barely noticed until Atlantis was up close again, and then they were down safely. “Nice flying, Airman.”

“Can you fix it?” Lionel sounded almost out of breath. “If you can’t-”

“Haven’t you heard? I can fix anything.” Rodney took his helmet off and began disassembling the unit, something he’d been reluctant to do earlier. “Grab my tablet, and let’s get busy.”

“Thanks, Mac.” Lionel hopped out like the young man that he was, but he was back quickly, and before long, Rodney had 302 guts laid out precisely.

“Rodney?”

“Up here!” Rodney waved down to Zelenka and pulled his front end out of the plane. “Lionel, that’s Radek. He’ll give us a hand.”

“You sure he’s smart enough?” Lionel frowned, and Zelenka hesitated on the middle step of the platform that was pushed up to the side of the plane.

“He’s good. Get up here, Radek! You’re small enough that we can do this much quicker.” Rodney pulled him up and shoved him inside. “Connect that there, and-”

“I see, I see!” Zelenka lifted his hand. “I need the-”

“Yes, yes.” Rodney handed him the next part. “Did you bring my tool kit? I could really use a-”

“By the ladder,” Zelenka said with a groan. “And yes, it would be better to replace than duct tape!”

“I wouldn’t!” He scooted down, grabbed it up, and hurried back. “Perfect.” He handed the part to Zelenka. “Don’t worry, Lionel.”

“There are so many parts!” Lionel moaned. “If even one is left over, I’ll be grounded!”

“Not gonna happen.” Rodney crawled halfway back inside, managing not to bang Zelenka’s head. “How’s my city?”

Zelenka started his rant in Czech, finishing with, “Nearly sank three weeks ago! I am surrounded by morons!”

Rodney handed him the correct tool and a length of wiring. “I told you not to put Kavanagh on the desalination tanks. He can’t wrap his head around the fact that water is heavy. That doesn’t go there! Over there!”

“What? Are you sure?” Zelenka tilted his head. “You are right, damn it. Glasses are pain in ass, yes?”

“Yes.” Rodney nudged them back self-consciously. “Lionel, grab that.”

“Dr. McKay, report, please,” Caldwell said loudly from the base of the platform.

“Be right back. Don’t put that there!” Rodney pulled out, turned, and went back down the stairs. Lionel was already down, looking miserable. Rodney talked fast. “Airman Lionel’s 302 has a problem with the navigation system. I was fixing it when Zelenka showed up. I stuffed him in there because he’s smaller.”

“Fixable?”

“Yes, sir.” Rodney pointed up. “May I?”

“Please do, and then send me a report.” Caldwell waved his hand. “Don’t worry, Airman. Two of this galaxy’s best are on it.”

Rodney didn’t listen to them commiserate over broken aircraft. He snatched up the next part and put it on Zelenka’s lap. “Radek! The blue crystal goes on top!”

“It does not!” Zelenka glared up at him. “Yellow first, always!” He lowered his voice. “You call him ‘sir.’”

The best way to answer that was to ignore it. “Yellow?” He thought about it. “Okay, so you got lucky. Let’s hurry. I have to disassemble most of the plumbing relays. Morons didn’t put in near enough shielding from the hyperdrive and every million light-years or so, the toilets don’t work!”

“That is horrible.” Zelenka’s hands were busy.

“On a spaceship? You’re damn right it is.” Rodney kept him on track, watching carefully. This was Lionel’s ship, and if anything happened to him, Rodney would hate himself forever. Lionel hovered, handing him things as needed, and it wasn’t long before the ship was ready. Zelenka crawled out, and Rodney crawled in to do a final diagnostic.

“Are you his friend?” Lionel asked.

“I am not so sure all the time of that, but we are colleagues, yes.”

“We like him here.” Lionel sounded about twelve years old. “He still can’t see because of you guys.”

“I did not do that.” Zelenka leaned far inside. “Adjust that, and you have own watch dog?”

“He’s a nice kid.” Rodney made a few adjustments. “It doesn’t make sense to me either.” He looked around, satisfied with the job. “Okay, Lionel, get a real co-pilot, and take her out.”

“Will do!” Lionel helped them carry equipment away. Rodney finished his bottle of water and dug out a power bar to munch on, watching Zelenka glance around the bay. Zelenka looked confused, but he had an agenda. Weir had sent him. The 302 zoomed away again, and Rodney pulled off the first panel.

“This is going to suck, but if I fix it right, I won’t have to do it ten times on the way back to Earth.” Rodney opened his tool kit and made sure everything was there, including his stash of coffee and chocolate. “So? What do you want?”

Zelenka sighed loudly. “She is insisting that you serve out the rest of your time on Atlantis. Using the fact that we almost sank as proof.”

“In the brig?” Rodney had to take a gulp of air. “Four months? In the brig?” He sat down hard, absentmindedly handing Zelenka a chocolate bar. “No, just no. They can’t make me, can they?”

“I do not know.” Zelenka sat down next to him. “Why do you not have team to do this job?”

Rodney shrugged and tore open his own chocolate bar. “They’re busy with other stuff, and this has become my own Mt. Everest.” He snapped off a piece and ate it. “Caldwell confined me to the ship, so I’ll do this. Hey, did you get your shipment? Caldwell said he’d taken care of it.”

“I did. Thank you.” Zelenka blushed and whispered, “It was supposed to be secret.”

“I was in the brig.” Rodney rolled his eyes. He ate some more and let his eyes rest on the ocean. It was good to be home. “Dr. Weir told you to do something?”

“She wants you to ask Caldwell to let you go.” Zelenka shook his head. “Convince him. Be home by dinner.”

Laughing was remarkably easy. He finished his bar. “Woolsey wanted me gone from the program. Threatened me with Radio Shack.”

“I like that store.”

They shared a grin, and Rodney thought that was enough geek bonding for one year. He got to his feet and took off a few more panels. “Green hair?”

Zelenka answered him in Czech, but Rodney got the gist of it. It had been hilarious yet evil. Rodney was sure that Sheppard was still mad about it. “Hey, did Ronon get his pizza?”

“I have not heard.” Zelenka pointed at him. “You should be angry, ranting and raving. It scares me that you are not. Also, you gave me chocolate.”

“I did?” Rodney took off his glasses to rub his eyes for a moment. He would have to coordinate his efforts so he didn’t waste time. “I have to work on the upper level as well.” He stepped away, waved, and started for the access stairs, more of a ladder. Zelenka was staring up at him when he got there so he waved again before starting to remove panels. He never wanted a career as a plumber.

********

eight hours later

“McKay!”

Jerking, he nearly threw the spanner over the edge. “What the hell?” He started crawling out, squeaking when someone dragged him the last few feet. “Hey!”

Ronon set him on his feet, fists slackening. “We brought a pizza.”

“Just one? Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.” Ronon slapped him on the back. Rodney grabbed the rail and got down to the floor as fast as possible. Ronon basically jumped, showing off. Teyla smiled, and Rodney let her greet him properly. He wanted to stop smiling, telling himself it was the pizza.

“Colonel Caldwell doesn’t know we’re here, so don’t blab on the radio,” Ronon growled.

Rodney didn’t believe that for a minute. Caldwell was all about the details. Instead of telling them, Rodney popped the radio out of his ear and put it in a pocket. “Let’s eat.”

Teyla spread a blanket by the door, and they sat down. Rodney filled his mouth before saying anything else. He was hungry, and this was food that wasn’t an MRE. There were drinks too, and he really tried to stop smiling.

“Thanks.”

“You are well?” Teyla handed him a muffin, and he moaned.

“Sure.” Rodney picked off a pepperoni and threw it at Ronon’s mouth. Ronon caught it and grinned. Teyla laughed, and Rodney felt something inside him loosen. This was team, and even though they wouldn’t be again, it was enough that they had been.

“Colonel Sheppard is anxious to see you.”

His very brief flirtation with the poetry and beauty of team bonding crashed to the ground like a jumper with no power. He swallowed his bite and met Ronon’s eyes. “No big deal. You guys hit each other that hard all the time. It was bad luck.”

“Yup.”

Teyla looked away and then back, and Rodney sincerely hoped they weren’t going to try to talk about all this in detail. The silence was thick with words Rodney didn’t want said, and finally Teyla shrugged. “We will tell him that you are well.”

A nod was good enough, and Rodney pretended to watch the sun sinking into the ocean. “Thanks for the food,” he said gruffly.

“Weir says you’ll be back soon, and I’ll teach you to block.”

The truth unexpectedly roared out of him. “If I come back early, I have to stay in the brig. The brig! I can’t do it!” He jumped to his feet and tried not to wave his arms. “Four months!”

“Rodney, sit down.” Teyla had on her patient face. “We were not aware of that.”

He collapsed back down, trying to breathe again. “I’m sorry, but a month was awful. The mountain was heavier every day.”

She put her hand on her arm. “Confinement is a terrible punishment. We are sorry.”

“They did that for a kiss. What do they do if you kill someone?”

“Kill you back.” Rodney could see that met with approval. “Or imprison you for life.” He shuddered. “I’d rather be dead.”

“Me too.”

“I also.”

Rodney’s radio chirped, and he dug it out, afraid not to answer it. He tucked it in his ear and clicked it. “Sorry, I didn’t copy that.”

“Inform Ronon and Teyla that Dr. Weir has called a senior staff meeting,” Caldwell said.

“Yes, sir.” Rodney clicked off before he laughed softly. “Caldwell says you two are due at a senior staff meeting.”

“He’s better than I thought.” Ronon got up with a grunt. “You want the rest?”

“Touch it, and I’ll hurt you.” Rodney didn’t stand so he didn’t have to hug anyone. “Seriously? Thanks.”

“You are welcome.” Teyla smiled and followed Ronon out of the fighter bay. Rodney ate more pizza and tried to enjoy the dark that was settling around the Daedalus. It had turned cooler, but it was nice, and he wasn’t in any hurry to get back to his plumbing problem.

He wasn’t all that surprised when Caldwell slinked in the fighter bay and took up a spot on the blanket. “You off-duty?”

“Finally.” Caldwell snitched a piece of pizza. “Dr. Weir is an interesting woman.”

“That’s code for she’s yelling.” Rodney leaned back flat and laced his hands behind his head. “So, only Sheppard can’t come see me?”

“I approved Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Beckett,” Caldwell said with a growl. “But I knew Teyla and Ronon would show up. Tomorrow morning, we have a meeting with Dr. Weir.”

“Crap.” Rodney would almost rather be struck in the face again. “I have to face him eventually. You can’t protect me forever.” And he knew that’s what it was.

Caldwell sighed loudly. “There’s still a lot of anger in him, and I’m not sure you’re ready.”

“Oh.” Rodney wasn’t sure he was ready either. “I could skip it?”

“Maybe.” Caldwell waved his hand in the direction of Rodney’s mess. “When are you going to break down and get a team to help?”

“Not yet.” Rodney shut his eyes. He’d rest a minute and then get back at it. “Did you act mean to me to get the rest of the crew on my side?”

“Why would I do that?” Caldwell sounded innocent. He wasn’t. “They were concerned that I would show favoritism. That’s all.”

That was plausible, and Rodney was tired. “People are stupid,” he mumbled. Sleep was nice.

Dawn woke him up, and he groaned twice before even attempting to move. Sleeping on hard surfaces was for young men. He felt like crap, and he really needed a shower, and he didn’t want to move, not ever.

“I always like the morning.”

The slow, easy drawl brought him completely awake, and in one split second, his mind ran through five or six scenarios. In that second, he was up and pressing his back to the nearest wall.

“You’re not scared of me,” Sheppard said with a smile that went nowhere near his eyes. “But I can see where it would get Caldwell on your side, and really, one colonel is as good as another, right?”

Living in complete and utter silence had taught Rodney one thing. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and it had as much power as yelling. He rubbed his mouth, knowing what he had to say but disliking it immensely.

Sheppard’s eyes were dark. “Speechless? The great Rodney McKay with nothing to say? I thought we had an agreement, Rodney. We both take a demerit, and that’s the end of it. What happened? Did Colonel Carter wink at you, and you couldn‘t stop talking?”

It was hard to think with all the yelling going on, and no one was better at it than Sheppard when he was angry.

“Do you have any idea how your big mouth has compromised my command?”

“Do you have any idea what he gave up to save your command?” Caldwell’s voice whipped across them both. “Your name was kept out of the reports. For Dr. McKay, Atlantis is it now. If he returns to Earth, his services will no longer be required by the SGC. He spun it so it looked as if he assaulted you, and sexual predator isn’t something that’s going away on his record. Let’s see, why did you do it, Doctor?”

Rodney twisted his hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He wanted to run far, far away.

“I think it does. General O’Neill was going to bust Sheppard’s sorry ass back to major and put him in Antarctica, where being a homophobic asshole isn’t much of a problem among the penguins.”

Sheppard looked solely at Rodney. “I don’t believe he’d put my career before his, but nice try, Colonel.”

“Dr. McKay, go get a shower. We have a briefing in one hour.”

Disobeying him wasn’t really an option. “Yes, sir,” he said automatically, seeing the flinch on Sheppard’s face. He scooped up the blanket and hurried away, wanting to look back, to complain, to do something instead of run away.

“Yes, we are tracking your subcutaneous transponder, and I’d appreciate it if you get off my ship and stay off.”

If Sheppard answered, Rodney didn’t hear it. He had wanted to say so many things, and nothing had come out. It was entirely possible that the brig had broken his ability to rant about anything and everything. Or maybe Sheppard had broken it along with Rodney‘s face. Rodney hurried through his shower, dressed, and returned to the fighter bay to make sure no one was touching his tools.

Zelenka looked up from his diagnostic pad. “My calculations show you are going to need more shield emitters than the Daedalus normally carries.”

“I know!” Rodney thought he saw Zelenka smirk. “I need a drink.”

“Coffee is there.” Zelenka pointed at the top of Rodney’s tool kit. Rodney grabbed it and drank it all before coming up for air.

“Um, Dr. McKay, we’re here to escort you to your briefing.”

“Of course you are.” Rodney could see their embarrassment and ended his complaint there to spare them. “Radek, do not break anything else!”

“It is plumbing. Could do in my sleep. Go.”

Rodney put the mug down and fell into step between one and the other. “We should stop at the Atlantis mess hall and eat before we come back.”

“Sounds good,” one of them said. “What? He has to have a guard. That’s us.”

Every head but Caldwell’s turned to look when he stepped inside the briefing room. He couldn’t even summon a nervous smile.

“You can step out, gentlemen,” Caldwell said.

“Isn’t that a bit much, Colonel?” Dr. Weir asked.

“Orders.” Caldwell shrugged. “Have a seat, Dr. McKay.”

Rodney scurried over to the empty chair by Carson. It seemed safe there, especially compared to the seat between Ronon and Sheppard.

“Good, we’re all here. Let’s begin.” Weir looked at each of them in turn. “John, do you have anything you want to say to Rodney?”

“Nope.”

“Thank God,” Rodney whispered. Carson nudged him and pointed at the two coffee cups on the table. Rodney took one quickly. Weir frowned deeply at John, who was slouching and looking off to the side at Teyla.

Caldwell raised his eyebrows, and Rodney knew what that meant. “I left Zelenka working in the fighter bay, so if I’m done, I should leave.”

“I called this meeting to discuss your future here on Atlantis.” Weir turned so she could frown at him now. “Your immediate future.”

No one said even one word, and Rodney had the feeling they were all waiting for him to yell at her. He cleared his throat, seeing the worry in Carson’s eyes. “The IOA was pretty clear in the paperwork I signed. Did they change their mind?”

She brushed her hair behind her ear. “Not exactly, but I think they will if they hear from all of us.”

“Tell them we nearly bloody well sank!”

“I did,” Weir said.

“Dr. McKay is a valued member of my crew. You’ll get him back in four months, give or take a day.” Caldwell smirked at Sheppard. Rodney seriously wondered if there was going to be gunfire as he gingerly sipped his coffee.

“I am not sure that it is fair to ask Dr. McKay to spend months in the brig here,” Teyla said slowly. “He has already spent one.”

Rodney found himself staring at Sheppard. Sheppard drummed his fingers on the table. “We could disobey orders.”

No one gasped, so they were all thinking it. Caldwell gave one of those slinky shrugs. “Perhaps I should return to my ship.”

Weir tilted her head. “Can we rely on the discretion of every member of this base?”

“Kavanagh is leaving with me,” Caldwell said.

Tapping his headset, Rodney didn’t worry who was listening. “Zelenka, go to Def Con 1, Daedalus edition.”

Every eyebrow in the room went up, and Rodney drank his coffee. Zelenka said softly in Rodney’s ear, “I will restock your tool kit.”

“Doctor?” Caldwell asked with a hint of steel in his voice.

Ronon laughed. “Should’ve beat him up.”

“Easy, Chewie,” Sheppard said.

Weir’s eyes were increasingly angry. Rodney tried to give Caldwell a reassuring look, but he was glaring at Sheppard.

“Honestly, I’m not inclined to recommend that Dr. McKay remain here when no one has made any attempt to reassure me that his safety is a priority.” Caldwell leaned back. “Other than Dr. Beckett.”

Carson let out a soft sigh of what was probably relief that he wouldn’t have to say anything. Rodney had had nightmares like this briefing, but the reality was turning out to be worse. Sheppard simply stared, but everyone had to see that his jaw was twitching, and that was bad on any planet.

“John?”

How Sheppard managed to talk without really opening his mouth was one of the mysteries of the universe. “I said it was a mistake. It was,” he ground out without meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’m sure if Rodney and I had two minutes in private we could work it out.”

“Like this morning?” Caldwell drawled. “When you threatened him?”

“I did not!” Sheppard was instantly on his feet. “If Rodney wants to sleep his way up the chain of command, I-”

“John!”

Rodney picked up his coffee and walked out. It wasn’t very mature, and at least two people yelled after him, but he hadn’t even had breakfast yet. “Food?”

His detail nodded, and Rodney walked in a fog towards the mess hall. People waved, but no one stopped to talk, and he filled his tray without looking at specifics. Going out on the balcony, he slumped down and took off his glasses, tossing them a short distance away. He rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Sheppard hadn’t wanted to talk this morning. He’d had a prepared speech and had been working his way through it when Caldwell interrupted them. Explaining to him about the demotion wasn’t possible now. Hell, talking to Sheppard wasn’t possible now.

Unsurprisingly, it was Teyla that sat down next to him. “Colonel Sheppard was upset.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Rodney left his glasses off and picked up his fork. He’d eat some eggs instead of thinking about all this for the hundredth time. Carson showed up next, and then Ronon with a huge plate of bacon and a look that dared Rodney to steal even one. “You guys mind leaving me alone?”

“No, we’re good.” Carson took a bite of toast. “Colonel Caldwell said I could put you under the scanner, make sure there’s no residual tissue damage.”

“Oh, joy.” Rodney started on a muffin next. A tiny bit of residual anger spiked through him. “I gave up a lot so that idiot could stay here,” he muttered. “Even when I do come back, I won’t be on the team or ever promoted. Zelenka will stay the head of the department. Some days, Radio Shack doesn’t look half bad.”

“I am certain Colonel Sheppard regrets his actions.”

Ronon put some bacon on Rodney’s plate, and Carson patted him on the arm. It helped, but none of them were brave enough to argue with Teyla.

“My fault. I should’ve known we weren’t friends, or anything else. I’m really stupid with people.” Rodney slipped his glasses back on and began to eat quickly. “I’ll shut up.” He glanced at Carson. “We have to make it fast. Zelenka is alone with my repairs.”

Carson chuckled. “Aye, we can do that.”

“Oh, and Ronon, there are two guys on the Daedalus that say they can take you down.”

“Together?”

“Separately.” Rodney found a grin for their folly. He waved over his guards and instructed them to give Ronon the details. As soon as the last bit of bacon was in his mouth, he bumped Carson. “Let’s go.”

“Dr. McKay, a word please.”

“Now?” Rodney groaned but followed her out to the hallway and to a deserted balcony. Carson waited a discreet distance away, and Rodney’s detail looked very uncomfortable. “Psst, guys, you could wait by Carson?”

They glanced at Weir and beat a retreat. They were smarter than they looked, and he faced Weir squarely, trying not to cringe.

“You have to work this out with John.”

“I said I was sorry. I said I was stupid. I wrecked my life for him. What else do you want me to do? Lick his boots?”

Weir flinched openly.

“The thing I hate is that I might do it to come back here,” Rodney said miserably. He had to clear one thing up right away. “I’m not sleeping with Colonel Caldwell.”

“I know.” She rubbed her forehead. “John didn’t know about the deal. I didn’t tell him. In hindsight, I should’ve.”

He lifted his hands helplessly. “I just want to go back to my lab.”

She squinted at him. “No yelling? No ranting? No long lectures about how Atlantis can’t get along without you? Where’s the real Dr. McKay?”

Rodney stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I’m saving my strength. Elizabeth, do not put me in the brig for four months. It might – it might – break me.”

Her eyes blew open wide. “I miss the old Rodney.”

“Me too.” Rodney motioned at Carson. “I have to go.” He didn’t wait for her permission; he wasn’t under her command right now. He tapped his headset. “Colonel, I’ll be in the infirmary.”

“Understood.”

Carson caught up with him, and they walked fast enough to get ahead of the detail. “Rodney, for once I have to agree with Colonel Caldwell. You might be safer if you stayed on the Daedalus.”

“Can’t you sedate him or something?” Rodney whispered, taking a long look at a shadow that shouldn’t have been there. Carson caught him by the elbow, distracting him. “Was he normal while I was gone?”

“Hid out in his room mostly. Killed more Wraith than Ronon is what I heard.” Carson pointed at the scanner bed. “Get up there and hold still. Oh, and take off the glasses.”

“Things I do for you,” Rodney grumbled, taking his glasses off and getting up on it. “Dr. Lam is scared of you.”

“She should be.” Carson chuckled. “Did you use it to your advantage?”

“Who, me?” Rodney held very still as the panel went by and back again. He’d done this enough that he knew when it was okay to get down. He wandered over to the readout, rubbing his eyes. “What I need is for you to give me some anti-anxiety med. My claustrophobia is terrible on that ship.”

Carson frowned at him. “Panic attacks?”

“Only if I’m in my cabin.” Rodney avoided it for that reason. He tilted his head and stared at his body. “Huh, I’m skinnier.”

“That you are.” Carson pulled a stool over and sat him down. “Hold still.”

“What the hell is that?” Rodney nearly grabbed the small wand that Carson was slowly passing in front of Rodney’s face.

“Something new we found. It’s a scanner but for small areas. Very fine resolution.”

“Can I take it apart?” Rodney twitched to get hold of it. Carson snorted, and that meant no. Rodney sighed loudly. “Carson,” he whined.

“Hush.” Carson rested his hand on Rodney’s shoulder. His voice dropped until he was almost inaudible. “Do you need condoms and lube?”

Rodney looked up wildly, hands flailing at Carson’s stomach. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not! I wouldn’t! Oh, Christ! I kissed a man! What the hell was I thinking?” But he knew, he knew, and he shoved him far enough away to get to his feet. “Just! No! That’s! No!”

“Breathe, Rodney, breathe.”

“What?” Rodney saw the alarm on the guard’s faces. “Does everyone think I’m gay?” He noticed that he’d backed into a wall. “Oh, crap!”

“Rodney, settle down.” Carson put his hands up. “No one gives a damn who you date. What the hell have you been doing these last months?”

“Not thinking, apparently!” Rodney tried to take several deep breaths. Lusting from afar was one thing, but he’d acted on it. He’d kissed him. “I have a crush on Sheppard?”

“Can’t say for sure, but you did kiss him.” Carson rolled his eyes. “I have never met a man more oblivious to his own actions. I thought you liked women, but everyone agrees that Sheppard is hot enough to attract lemurs.”

“Lemurs?” Rodney had to sit down. He also needed a bag to breathe into, but Carson was just standing there with a dumb expression on his face. “I’ve been equated with a lemur. I do like women!”

Carson rubbed his forehead. “I know. Listen, no one on this base thinks what Sheppard did was right, and until he truly apologizes, well, he’s not exactly welcome at beer night.”

“He did apologize.” Rodney looked around and saw at least two nurses pretending not to listen. He had to fix this, and he said very loudly, “Sheppard apologized! It was nothing but a stupid mistake!”

“Right.” Carson wrapped his hand around Rodney’s upper hand and put him back on the stool. “I think these symptoms will fade with time, might take a year or two. Are you hyperventilating? Jesus, Rodney.”

Rodney got up again, swaying, but already moving to his guards. “Did you guys think I was gay?”

“Uh, never cared.”

The other guy shrugged. Rodney turned back and pointed at Carson. “I‘m not attracted to you at all.”

“Glad to hear it, Rodney,” Carson said. “Now, I want some blood.”

“Why?” Rodney crossed his arms. “I kissed him, and my career is finished, and I want a do-over!” As he glared his way around the infirmary, people had the decency to look away. He grasped at a straw. “Maybe the Wraith enzyme made me crazy for a minute! It could‘ve happened! Some sort of residual effect from being insane!”

Carson patted the stool. “Let me take some blood. I‘ll run a few tests and do some comparisons. I‘m not agreeing with you, not by a long shot, but I‘m willing to humor you.”

“Oh, thanks very much.” Rodney slumped, going back to the stool. He had to unzip his flightsuit and shove it down to free an arm. “God, I screwed up. He‘s not that handsome. Is he?”

“Well, according to some of my nurses, he‘s smoking hot.” Carson took Rodney‘s blood quickly and efficiently. “It‘s good to hear you yelling. I was starting to worry.”

Rodney swallowed hard, watched the room double up, and fumbled for his glasses. “I‘m bisexual. That‘s possible. I should think about this.”

“I can‘t believe you didn‘t while you were stuck in a brig for a month!”

“I had a magic marker.” Rodney yanked his flightsuit up and zipped. “I kissed a boy in high school once. He didn‘t punch me. Of course, I was doing his homework for him.” He had to stop babbling, and he grabbed another deep breath. “I gotta go.” He dashed out of the infirmary with his detail right behind, making for the Daedalus at top speed.

Rounding a corner, he nearly didn‘t see the slouching figure of Sheppard. His guards must‘ve because they ran interference quite well, moving to block.

“McKay, we have to talk.”

He stopped. He did, but the guy behind him took him by the arm. “We have our orders, sir.” And they hustled him away. He twisted enough to look over his shoulder, and Sheppard had that furious face, so maybe it was better this way. Rodney stuffed his twitching hands in his pockets. He‘d messed up everything, and he still wanted to kiss him, even if it led to condoms and lube, which he really didn‘t want to think about, not ever.

*********

eight hours later

“No, no, no!” Rodney nearly banged his head getting out of the duct. “Please! No!”

Caldwell put his hands on his hips, and that was the end of that argument. “Also, Dr. Beckett has informed me that you can‘t survive on power bars – I know, I was shocked too – and he‘s insisting you eat dinner in the mess hall.”

Rodney put his tools away slowly, searching for something to say that didn‘t involve cursing.

“Look, I know you want to hide, but orders are orders.” Caldwell squatted and handed him a few tools to put away. “The security detail was not my idea. Woolsey did that.”

“I know.” Rodney had guessed it. “Are you-” He had to stop, reconsider, but then he said it anyway. “Will you go with me?”

“Of course.” Caldwell brushed off his knees. “It could be good news.”

“Have you been paying any attention these last months?” Rodney shut his tool kit and made sure his work area wasn‘t a hazard to anyone.

Caldwell made a sweeping gesture. “You‘re going to get all this stuff put back, right? Before we leave?”

“Oh, was that the idea?” Rodney frowned at the organization at the tail end of it. Zelenka‘s mind was a strange place. “The ship is a marvel of technology, but the toilets don‘t work. It boggles my mind.”

“I need two SO‘s to accompany Dr. McKay into Atlantis,” Caldwell said into his headset, starting for the door. Rodney hurried to catch up and fell into step beside him.

“It‘s the heat generated by the hyperdrive that they didn‘t take into account. I‘m not sure they even considered that there would be heat.” Rodney might slap Carter next time he saw her. She should‘ve known. “The Asgard should‘ve thought about it.”

“It really bugs the hell out of you, doesn‘t it?” Caldwell looked amused.

“Yes!” Rodney sighed. “Do you realize that I‘m having to re-route-”

“I don‘t want to know,” Caldwell said, raising his hand. “Get it fixed before we leave. That‘s all I ask, and there better not be any leftover parts.”

“You guys are hilarious.” Rodney waited until they were in Atlantis before bringing up the topic he really wanted to discuss. “You aren‘t going to let them put me in the brig, are you?”

“Not as long as you have that mess to clean up.” Caldwell flashed him a smirk. “If we have to, we‘ll leave. That‘ll take care of the problem.”

“I like the way you think. I‘ll work faster.” Rodney waited for the SO guys to crowd in the transporter before touching the circle for the tower. He got out quickly when the doors opened, feeling that crawl of claustrophobia up his spine.

“There you are. Chuck, dial Earth,” Weir said.

Zelenka was in Rodney‘s usual spot for the weekly dial-in, and Rodney glared long enough to produce a slight shrug of an apology. Chuck dialed the gate, and Rodney tried not to notice that Sheppard had stepped close.

“Dr. Weir, good to see you.” O‘Neill smiled in that cocky way of his, and he was flanked by Carter. She smiled too, and he continued, “Carter has news for McKay, but first, Woolsey reviewed your request and turned it down flat. He thinks you‘ll lie about the whole brig thing. If Wraith attack, he‘s willing to talk, otherwise you‘re out of luck.”

“General, may I respectfully submit that Mr. Woolsey didn‘t get his feet wet!”

“Be that as it ‘twere, McKay is staying on the Daedalus for now. I‘ve promoted him to Junior Airman.”

“Ha. Ha,” Rodney mumbled, relieved and trying not to show it. Caldwell nudged him with his boot, and that meant shut up.

“What I want to know is why you made McKay sign all that crap,” Sheppard growled.

O‘Neill narrowed his eyes, and Rodney didn‘t think he was the only one that was suddenly nervous. “Sheppard, McKay wasn‘t coerced. He made his own choices. I want you in Atlantis. If you‘d like to complain, send it to me in triplicate.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheppard said, but he hadn‘t lost his growl.

“Sam, speak up. It‘s your turn now.” O‘Neill stepped back, and Carter smiled at them all.

“Rodney, I took the liberty of saving your work before the janitor cleaned the walls in the brig.” She paused. “I hadn‘t realized you were working on theories of-”

“Carter! Get on with it!”

“Oh, sorry. The long and the short of it is, you won the Wolf Prize in Physics, and if the Daedalus leaves in two days, you‘ll be back in time for the ceremony in Jerusalum.”

“What?” Rodney stared at her. “You couldn‘t submit that! You‘re not in a position to-”

“Friends in low places,” O‘Neill interrupted. “The Air Force wants you there. Good publicity and all that. Colonel Caldwell, you have two days, and push the engines.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, crap.” Rodney met Zelenka‘s eyes. “I‘m going to need-”

“Yes, yes.” Zelenka waved his hand. “I‘ll have to get-”

“Get moving!” Rodney still took the time to glare at Carter. “When I get back, you and I are having a long discussion about toilets!”

Zelenka hurried away, and Carter glared back at him. “Those were designed before the hyperdrive was installed by the Asgard. It‘s not my fault!”

“I‘m only fixing this ship. You‘re on your own with the Apollo!” Rodney refused to acknowledge that Caldwell was on the verge of laughing. “And for the record, you had no right to steal my equations!”

“Carter, go away before McKay says something that makes you smack him.” O‘Neill gave them a sloppy salute. “Have fun, kids, and Sheppard? Stop sulking.”

Weir opened her mouth to say something but the connection went dead, and Chuck snapped the wormhole shut.

“That was a colossal waste of power,” Rodney said. He whipped around. “I have to get to work.”

“First, food, and then work.” Caldwell didn‘t look as if he were joking. “And congratulations.”

“Yes, Rodney, congratulations,” Weir said. She didn‘t look happy.

For some reason, Rodney glanced at Sheppard. Sheppard turned on his heel and marched away, and Rodney didn‘t think he‘s be seeing him again this trip. Pushing that all aside, he had work to do, and he had to get started if they were going to leave on time.

“I don‘t have time to eat!” Rodney wasn‘t going to stand around yelling about it any longer. He took off for the cafeteria, bumped himself to the front of the line, sent two of his scientists to the Daedalus to help Zelenka, and threw some food on a tray. He fully intended to eat on the walk back, but Caldwell pointed at a table.

Rodney went out to the balcony. He‘d take ten minutes. “Radek?”

“Do not worry, but your lack of organization is very annoying.”

“Mine?” Rodney clicked off so he could put food in his mouth. He stopped eating completely one second later when Sheppard put his tray down across from him.

“Congrats, McKay.”

“Um, thanks?” Rodney made his jaw start chewing again. He wasn‘t sure he could swallow yet. “You, um,-” He broke off, unable to finish his thought, something about anger.

“Any idea what it‘s like to work in a place where no one likes you?”

“Of course,” Rodney said before he thought about it. He rolled his eyes. “Everyone here likes you, even those two.” He waved at his guards.

“Even Ronon is mad at me.” Sheppard leaned forward. “So, I am sorry.”

“I bet you are.” Rodney didn‘t like the way this conversation was going. “Feel free to hate me. Oh, never mind, you already do.”

Sheppard didn‘t smile. “Where‘s your hero?”

“You know, I have no idea why I wanted to kiss you.” Rodney had no appetite for bickering. “We were friends, good friends. The first friend I‘d ever had that wasn‘t trying to steal my research. I‘m very sorry that I took it wrong.”

“I bet you are.” Sheppard leaned back and shrugged. “Not the first guy who‘s kissed me.”

“Just the first you put in the hospital?” Anger boiled over, and he wavered between throwing food on him and busting him across the face. Sheppard smirked, and Rodney understood what was going on, and he wasn‘t going to play that game. “You want me to hit you. You think that‘ll make us even. I bet I am the first guy to ever kiss you, and you reacted with all the years of pent-up homophobia that the military beats into a man.”

“Hit me,” Sheppard snarled. “Everyone says you owe me.”

“No.” Rodney got hastily to his feet. “You need therapy. Lots of it.”

Sheppard got right in Rodney‘s face. “You know what you‘ve done to me? Do you even have a clue?”

“Escort Dr. McKay back to the Daedalus, men.”

Rodney made them drag him away, but he heard every word.

“Closet getting a bit tight, Sheppard?”

“Maybe you should consider swishing your way back inside one, sir.”

His guards got him out of earshot fast because they were practically running. The fighter bay teemed with people, but Zelenka grabbed him by the arm. “Rodney, your eyes are wild!”

“Universes are colliding.” Rodney took his glasses off and rubbed his face hard. “Radek, I need a vacation.”

“Out of luck there.” Zelenka pulled him towards the mess on the floor. “Two days!”

“I know!” Rodney took a deep breath, put his glasses on, and squared his shoulders. “We‘ll do this, and when I leave, you make damn sure no one ever says a bad word about Sheppard again.”

Zelenka raised his eyebrows. “He is sorry?”

“Very.” Rodney picked up his tablet, scanning both parts and people to see where they would fit best. “It‘s time to move on with our lives.”

“I agree. I will see to it.”

“Now let‘s get to work.”

*********

forty-six hours later

“Rodney, this is important!” Carson yelled.

“Not now!” Rodney slapped the panel shut and hurried down the ladder. “Send me an email!”

“No, Rodney!” Carson grabbed him by the flightsuit and hauled him close.

“I‘m about out of time,” Rodney said, trying to escape. “I think I‘m done, but I need to do about an hour‘s worth of tests!”

“Radek!” Carson didn‘t turn him loose. “I need Rodney for twenty minutes!”

Zelenka crawled out, snapped a panel closed, and ran to them. “Fine. Fine. Go!”

“This is ridiculous.” Rodney opened his mouth to complain some more, but Novak beamed them directly to the conference room. Weir motioned at chairs, and Rodney shifted from one foot to the other. “I‘ll stand. If I sit down, I won‘t get up.”

“I‘ll be brief since Rodney seems to think the Daedalus can‘t leave without him.” Carson wasn‘t talking all that quickly. “Because Rodney yelled at me, I ran some tests over again and did a short term study, running several comparisons.”

“And?” Caldwell shifted impatiently.

“The Wraith enzyme still hasn‘t fully broken down in Rodney‘s body. Has anyone but me noticed that Rodney has been particularly quiet?”

“It is odd,” Weir said.

“The massive dose he took put him through a hellacious withdrawal, but, and I‘m guessing here, that because of Rodney‘s allergies, it didn‘t break down as I expected.” Carson put up a graph, and Rodney sat down. This was going to take a while. If he couldn‘t get back up, it wasn‘t his fault.

“So?” Sheppard drawled.

“Colonel Sheppard, I want you to tell everyone here exactly what happened in your quarters that night.”

“I‘d rather not.”

“John,” Weir said, “make that an order.”

Rodney covered his face. He didn‘t know why Carson was doing this, but it was going to turn out badly.

“It was after the movie. Ronon and Teyla left, and Rodney just-” Sheppard stopped.

In the complete and total silence, Carson hit a button, and Rodney had to peek. It was of him, in the brig at the SGC – security footage. He sat up straight. “I don‘t remember that!”

“I thought not. Go on, Colonel.”

“He, well, jumped on me, growling something obscene, slamming into me.” Sheppard‘s face couldn‘t get any redder. “He twisted my-. Well, never mind.”

“You had bruises at your next check up. I asked you specifically where you‘d gotten them, and you gave me a cockamamy story about the mission, right?”

“McKay gave them to me,” Sheppard said quietly, very quietly. “Look, I‘m sorry. I should‘ve-”

“Aye, that you should‘ve.”

“That‘s not what happened!” Rodney slammed his hand down on the table. “It was a gentle kiss!”

“Rodney, the Wraith enzyme is being released in spurts. Colonel Caldwell, has he been abnormally passive on the way here?”

“Yes, but I thought he had PTSD,” Caldwell said.

“It‘s more likely been exhaustion and bouts of withdrawal. You all noticed that he lost weight. I got this bit of tape from Novak.”

Carson pushed another button, and it was the security camera in Rodney‘s cabin on the Daedalus. Rodney watched in horror as he screamed and threw food. “I don‘t remember,” he whispered.

“The enzyme has wrapped itself inside your cells, saturating your tissues. It‘s breaking down, but at a pace I‘ve never seen. Rodney, you remember kissing him. You didn‘t. You attacked him. Colonel Sheppard, Rodney had no control over himself. None. He was acting under the influence of a burst of Wraith enzyme.”

“It‘s been weeks since he dosed himself,” Teyla said.

“That it has, and his blood work looked clean on the surface of things. Colonel Caldwell, I don‘t recommend you take Rodney back with you.”

“One of those fits in Engineering, and he might destroy the ship.”

Rodney surged to his feet and found himself staring down the business end of Ronon‘s blaster. He froze because anything else would be stupid.

“Rodney, sit down and breathe,” Carson said in what he thought was a soothing voice. “No one blames you. Dealing with Wraith enzyme is full of unknowns, and it seems to affect everyone a touch differently.”

Panic, fear, and anger grabbed him close, and he knew his immediate future would be spent in the brig. “I told you people it was my fault. No one listened! And if Sheppard knew the truth, why has he been such an asshole!”

“He was accused of gay-bashing. Anyone might react poorly to that. He probably thought you‘d set him up.” Caldwell stood and held out his hand. “Let Carson run a few more tests, and we‘ll discuss this all again.”

“Code for ‘let‘s put McKay in the brig fast,‘ and no!”

“He complained of claustrophobia. I think it was more likely paranoia. He had it quite severely when he returned from the planet.”

Rodney backed up two more steps. Ronon tracked him with the gun.

“Stand down, McKay,” Sheppard snapped.

Confusion jangled into all the other emotions, and his only thought was of escape. He ducked behind Carson and ran for the door.

*********

unknown amount of time later

“Rodney? Wake up, lad.”

“No, no, no.” Rodney couldn‘t bear to look. “Not the brig, please.”

“You‘re in the infirmary,” Carson said. “The Daedalus left an hour ago. Open your eyes.”

Rodney blinked against the light, sure he was restrained, but his arms were free. He sat up fast, groaning when his eyes played tricks on him. “My glasses?”

“Oh, aye.” Carson handed them to him. “Better?”

He shrugged and looked around for the hordes of people that probably wanted to shoot him with a stunner. Stupidly, one thought kept buzzing through his head. “I told them it was my fault.”

“That you did.” Carson sighed. “I‘m sorry, Rodney. It was a terrible mistake, and I‘m to blame.”

“Oh, shut up. You couldn‘t have guessed that this would happen.” He was very tired, and he didn‘t want to talk. “Can I go back to sleep?”

“I had your quarters cleaned. A security detail will take you there, and yes, they‘re a permanent part of your life for now.”

“I guess we can‘t count on Ronon to stun me all the time.” Rodney eased off to the floor and groaned softly. Every muscle in his body ached. “Everyone must hate me.”

“A lot of people are a bit confused, but no one hates you. Colonel Sheppard is due a few apologies, but some of it was his own fault. He should‘ve told me.” Carson looked fierce for a moment. “Now go. Rest. No work. I‘ll come to your room in the morning, and we‘ll go to breakfast.”

“I don‘t have to go to the brig?” Rodney blushed, but it was hard to believe.

“No.” Carson patted him on the shoulder. “I told everyone to leave you alone until tomorrow, so off with you now.”

“Okay.” Rodney fumbled for his headset to ask Zelenka if the work on the Daedalus had finished on time, but it was gone. He caught Carson‘s evil eye and started for his quarters. His new guard detail picked him up outside, and he didn‘t stop to say hello. He trudged to his quarters, took off his boots, glasses, flightsuit, and fell on his bed. If he were lucky, when he woke up, this would all be a terrible dream.

*********

the next morning

They brought him food when he asked, but they wouldn‘t let him out or give him a radio, and he began to pace. His quarters here weren‘t as small as his cabin, but he could feel the familiar pressure building, building, and he had enough intellect left to realize that if what Carson had said was true, he was about to explode. On the Daedalus, he‘d always woken up in his cabin after one of these, tired, unable to remember what he‘d done. It was a miracle that he hadn‘t hurt anyone else.

Sheppard. God, Sheppard. Rodney picked up his tray and threw it against the door. It made a nice sound, and he began to pace again.

“Hey, buddy, why don‘t you sit down for a minute?”

Rodney whipped around, seeing Sheppard, Carson, and Ronon. “I‘m not your buddy. You probably like Carson‘s mice more than me. Now get the hell out!”

Ronon took a step towards him, and Rodney faded out. He woke up in the infirmary, again, and this time, he decided to stay. So tired, God, so tired.

“No, he‘s not awake yet. We‘re all fine. Ronon had a bloody nose, and Sheppard a bruise or two, but nothing serious. I think if we‘d have left him alone, no one would‘ve been injured at all.”

“Should he be in the brig?” Weir asked.

“I wouldn‘t recommend it. His mental state is precarious at best.” Carson hesitated. “I did get a blood sample during a full-blown attack, and it may help me deal with this.”

“I hope so.” It was Weir‘s turn to pause. “Your report to the SGC has to be beyond thorough.”

“I‘m aware of that.”

“Carson?” Rodney whispered. He couldn‘t lie here and listen to them any longer. “That you?”

“Awake now? Thirsty?”

“Yeah.” Rodney sat up enough to sip from a cup. “Tired.”

“Any worse than usual?” Carson started doing doctor things, and Rodney didn‘t bother to push him away or complain.

“Not really.” Rodney shut his eyes and let it all happen. “I hurt Ronon?”

“He‘s fine.”

“Carson, she‘s right. I should be in the brig. I can‘t hurt anyone in there.” Rodney felt pummeled by life in general, and he was willing to let them stuff him away now that he knew the truth. “I can‘t be trusted.”

Carson put his hand on Rodney‘s arm. “I think the stress of confinement makes it worse. Sending you to your quarters wasn‘t a good idea. I‘ll know more after I look at this latest round of blood work.”

“Security close?”

“Aye. With stunners.” Carson sounded tired. “Sleep, Rodney. You need it.”

Rodney said nothing, but he didn‘t sleep. He tried to think his way through the convoluted equation that his life had become since Ford‘s morons had pumped him full of Wraith enzyme. It was no wonder that Sheppard had been furious. He‘d been attacked, and then suddenly he‘d been accused. Someone had dyed his hair green, and he hadn‘t had a chance to defend himself.

Turning over the other way, Rodney covered his face with his arm. He owed Sheppard more than an apology. Rodney remembered that night clearly, or so he thought, and he had felt hemmed in, almost claustrophobic.

The movie had ended, Ronon and Teyla left, and he‘d leaned, and the popcorn bowl had fallen to the floor, and … he‘d wanted him. The want had been terrible, and he‘d reached, grabbed, holding tightly, squeezing.

“Oh, God.”

Sheppard had tried to shove him off.

“Rodney?”

“Go away,” he said. He wasn‘t going to open his eyes. “Please.”

“If you wish, but I will return.”

He remembered the blow to his face, and then, the memory jumped to the end, Sheppard‘s face, so angry, but he focused and realized that the cursing had been him. He‘d cursed and screamed, bolting down the hallway and crashing into Ronon.

Sheppard had defended himself against a raving lunatic, and it was a damn shame that he hadn‘t fixed the security cameras in Sheppard‘s room, or this situation wouldn‘t have gotten out of control. And Sheppard might‘ve been willing to forgive him.

“I‘ll sit with him,” Ronon said gruffly.

“How‘s the nose?”

“Didn‘t hurt.” Ronon managed to make a lot of noise, sitting down and rustling around. Finally, against his will, Rodney opened his eyes. Ronon held out a power bar. “Want?”

He took it and sat up enough to eat it. “You stunned me?”

“Doc wouldn‘t let me. We held you down while he got blood.” Ronon stretched his arms over his head. “You gotta talk to Sheppard.”

“I know,” Rodney said around a mouthful. “He should hate me.”

“I still have dreams I‘m on the enzyme. Felt good.”

Rodney had to think about that while he ate the rest of the bar. “I hated it. I was out of control, and I thought I was smart, but I had the feeling it was a lie.”

“Anything Wraith is bad.”

“Very true.” Rodney brushed the crumbs away. He sat completely up and rubbed his eyes. There was no reason he couldn‘t work between his fits. Blinking, he could see Ronon‘s nose wasn‘t quite its usual shape. “Sorry about that.”

“Lucky shot.” Ronon grunted, touching his nose gently. “You got a few bruises.”

“I do?” Rodney felt around and winced. He did, but all things considering, it could‘ve been worse. Checking under the sheet again, he groaned. “Scrubs? No! Carson!”

“No way you‘re getting out of here.” Ronon laughed. “And I didn‘t put you in them.”

“Thank God for that.” Rodney poked a bruise on his arm. He looked around for his glasses, spotted them on a side table, and got out of bed to retrieve them.

“Rodney! Get in that bed!”

“I‘m not sick!” Rodney shoved his glasses on his face before Carson could take them. Carson pointed, and Rodney caved, but he was going to glare. “I‘m not sick,” he muttered.

Ronon patted him on the head. “Stupid.” He swaggered out, and Rodney pointed after him. Carson added a glare to his finger, and Rodney got on the bed, but he refused to lie back. Carson didn‘t seem to notice as he ran him through more tests than were necessary. Rodney drew a deep breath to yell, but it would take more energy than he had, so he sulked.

“Put out your hand, hold it steady.”

They watched Rodney‘s hand shake ever so slight, and Rodney put it down. He‘d noticed that over these last weeks, but it happened from hypoglycemia too. “It‘s nothing.”

“You‘re in withdrawal,” Carson said softly. “Tell me, usually did you go back to work?”

“Of course.” Rodney wished he were in his lab right now. “I‘m fine. Tired, but that‘s normal.”

“Not really.” Carson took off Rodney‘s glasses and flashed a light across Rodney‘s eyes. “Slightly dilated. I‘ll be honest, Rodney. I‘m not sure what to do about all this. You need to be under supervision at all times, but confinement seems to make it worse. You‘re thin, almost drawn, but I‘ve noticed that food seems to trigger an attack.”

“What?” Rodney waved the power bar package in Carson‘s face. “That can‘t be.”

“Not those. Meals. Trays. One or the other. It‘s probably psychological, but I can‘t combat it with anything but sedatives, and since your immune system is screwed up, I‘m reluctant to do that!”

Rodney stared at him. “Ford‘s men. They made me eat it. I had to eat.” He slumped back, swinging up his legs. “Carson, I knew this attack was coming. I could feel it. Now that I know what‘s happening, I‘ll run here. I promise.”

“You did?” Carson pulled the sheet and blanket back up over him. “What does it feel like?”

“Pressure. Like the top of my head is going to explode. I pace, and then I usually yell about something, and then it all goes black. I wake up tired.” Rodney grabbed him by the forearm. “Why do I black out?”

“I don‘t know, perhaps the surge overwhelms your frontal cortex. We‘re dealing with unknown territory here.” Carson didn‘t pull away. “Your radio isn‘t enough.”

He seized on the slight waver. “I‘ll rig an emergency signal. It‘ll transmit directly here, no matter where I am, and I‘ll keep security with me.”

Carson sighed loudly. “You can‘t bear to be confined, can you?”

“No,” Rodney whispered. “Please, Carson?”

“I‘ll speak to Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir, but today, you‘re in here. I want to run every test known to medical science and a few that I‘m going to invent, and I expect your cooperation.” Carson removed Rodney‘s glasses and nudged him back. “If you get buggy, tell me. I‘ll sedate you.”

“Great, just great.”

********

one day later

“Did Elizabeth make you come to see me? Because if she did, turn around and leave. I‘ll lie and say you were nice.” Rodney crossed his arms and looked firmly away. He‘d apologized three times via Teyla, and he was done. “I‘m sorry! I‘m sorry!” He had to look and cringe. “Don‘t hit me again.”

“Me? I‘m the one with all the bruises!” Sheppard did have a mark on his cheekbone. He pointed at it. “This was your knee!”

“Sorry?” Rodney didn‘t know what else to say. “There‘s only so many times I can say sorry!”

“I know.” Sheppard put his hands on his hips. “I acted like a jackass, but everyone thought I‘d hit you for a kiss, which I wouldn‘t do!”

“Really? I mean, of course not! I never thought you would,” Rodney lied. “Sure, it was on my list, but I never thought you‘d actually do it!”

“List?” Sheppard frowned. “No, I don‘t even want to know. Radek! Get in here!”

Rodney instinctively backed up a few steps.

Sheppard made a gesture that could‘ve meant anything. “Shirt. Off.”

“What? No!” Rodney clutched his elbows and got as far away as possible. He‘d just gotten dressed, and he wasn‘t taking his shirt off for anyone.

“You follow Colonel Caldwell‘s orders, and I‘m commanding you to take your shirt off. Now.” Sheppard‘s voice could‘ve chipped ice.

Radek peeked around the corner. “I can come back.”

“Now, Dr. McKay.” Sheppard tilted his head. “You can say, ‘yes, sir‘ if you want.”

“I hate you.” Rodney could tell that Sheppard was extremely serious about the shirt. He also looked angry. Fast, he tugged off his grey T-shirt, holding it in front. “Sir.”

“Better.” Sheppard didn‘t lose that scary face. “Radek, gear him.”

“Wait. I said I‘d come up with a device of some kind!”

“I don‘t trust you.” Sheppard smiled in a smirky evil way. “Remember?”

“Sorry,” Radek said softly. “Turn around?”

Carson appeared behind them both and made a twisting motion with his hand. Rodney gave in before Ronon showed up and stunned him. Radek‘s hands were ice cold, and he muttered in Czech the entire time, and whatever he hooked, strapped, glued to the middle of Rodney‘s shoulders was going to itch. Rodney just knew it.

“That is all.”

Pulling on the shirt, Rodney waited until it was down before turning to face them. “Are you going to tell me what it does?”

“You like surprises.” Sheppard hadn‘t lost his smirk. “Ditch your security detail, and I know you can, and I‘ll throw you in the brig so fast your head will spin.”

“It monitors your vital signs. Anything out of the ordinary, and an alarm goes off here,” Carson said.

“And that‘s when I blast you.” Ronon strolled around the corner. “Should be fun.”

“Wait a minute!” Rodney pushed Zelenka out of the way and tried to look mean in Ronon‘s face. “I bloodied your nose once, I can do it again!”

“He‘s lost his mind,” Zelenka whispered.

“He‘s out of the withdrawal phase. He cycles very quickly.” Carson lifted his hands. “Rodney, stay out of the mess hall. Wait, no, I don‘t know. Bloody hell, just eat when you can.”

“I am comforted by your knowledge of my condition.” Rodney left them in the dust. He went directly to the nearest balcony and breathed deeply of the fresh air, not caring that two security men were only feet away. They had stunners, not guns, and he would ignore them.

Sheppard had enjoyed all that, and while Rodney had known that Sheppard didn‘t trust him, there was no reason to tell everyone on the base.

“Feeling okay, Rodney?”

He turned enough to see her. “Yes.”

The wind was strong today, and the sky was very blue, and he didn‘t want to talk. Weir came to stand next to him. “Even under the circumstances, I‘m glad you‘re here.”

“That puts you in a very small minority.” Rodney went back to staring out at the city and the ocean. If he stayed out here for about an hour, he might be able to face going to work. But he was home.

“I like you in glasses.”

“I can feel your fear.” He could, and it worried him because he never noticed those kinds of things before. “I haven‘t hurt anyone, not since Sheppard.”

She nodded briskly. “I know that, but I watched the video of you, and Wraith enzyme makes anyone dangerous.”

Shrugging, he turned farther away from her. “Sheppard won‘t let me hurt anyone.”

“He told me that too.” She stepped closer. “I suppose you‘re wondering about the Wolf Prize.”

“Not really.” It‘d crossed his mind, but up against Wraith enzyme and being stunned every five minutes, it had become a non-issue.

“You‘re going. I haven‘t worked out the details yet, but we‘ll send you through the wormhole the day before, and you‘ll come home on the Daedalus.”

He put his fingers under his glasses and rubbed. “Thanks.” He didn‘t mean it, but he didn‘t think she‘d ever leave if he didn‘t say it. “I want different quarters,” he said, not knowing where the words came from. “Something with a balcony and high ceilings. Can you help?”

“I‘ll speak to Colonel Sheppard about it.”

“Oh, forget it.” Rodney hated that he sounded like a spoiled brat. He‘d find a spot to make a pallet, like he‘d done in the fighter bay. She laughed softly, and he turned to face her.

“He‘ll forget it, if you will.”

“I doubt it.” Rodney wasn‘t holding his breath on that one. “Tell me, and I want the truth. Do I answer to you or him?” He rushed on before she could answer. “On the Daedalus, there‘s a very clear chain of command, but here? I‘m your second, or I was, and Sheppard was military, and we didn‘t have to listen to him unless bullets were flying.”

She raised her hand. “Usually, I consider you and him equals, unless you‘re out on a mission, but right now, until we resolve your health issues, you‘re under his command. For your safety, and ours.” Weir paused and raised her eyebrows. “You like Colonel Caldwell?”

There was no way he was answering that loaded question. His stomach complained loudly, and he took it as an excuse to leave. “Gotta go eat. Doctor‘s orders.”

“See that you follow them.”

Rodney left her there, but he didn‘t go to the mess hall. He swung by his quarters long enough to grab an MRE from his stash and then headed out to the North Pier. There was a lab there, with a balcony, and it was far away from Sheppard‘s usual haunts.

“Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka is asking for you.”

“Tell him I‘m on my way to Lab Fifteen.” Rodney didn‘t break stride. He‘d pick up a radio there and eat. “Also ask him where my laptops are.” He was embarrassed that he hadn‘t asked sooner. If they were still on the Daedalus, he was going to scream.

“He says he‘ll meet you there after he deals with, um, I don‘t speak Czech.”

“Doesn‘t matter.” Rodney waved them in the transporter, and it deposited them close enough. He hurried out, not caring if they were trotting after him. The lab was shut, but it didn‘t take long to get it open, lights on, and all the balcony doors open. He sat out on the balcony on a stool that he‘d dragged over and ate his MRE. His guards were inside the door, not outside.

“Rodney, why are you out here? And Colonel Sheppard was in charge of removing your things from the Daedalus, and I have no idea what he did with anything.” Zelenka looked around twice and then shrugged. “You are right.”

“Of course I am. Did you see that footage? I could destroy our lab.” Rodney wasn‘t taking any chances on that happening. “I‘ll be fine here. I need a few things, but you can help me with that.”

Zelenka waved his hands in the air. “The infirmary is so bad?”

“Awful.” Rodney had begun to think it was shrinking. “Did you get my tool kit off the Daedalus?”

“I am not moron.” Zelenka rubbed his hands together. “We have work to do. There are several issues that need your brilliance.” He sighed. “I wish I were joking.” He clicked his radio and started bossing people around, and Rodney gave him a few suggestions and within the hour, he had a perfectly serviceable lab. It wasn‘t fancy, but it would do. He had noticed that he threw things during his blackouts, and he didn‘t want to destroy anything important.

It was too bad that Sheppard showed up, but he had Rodney‘s laptops. “This is further away from the control tower than I like,” he grumbled.

Rodney nearly snapped at him, but he bit it off. He was under Sheppard‘s command, and for some reason, it didn‘t feel like a secure place to be. Sheppard might throw him in the brig for nothing.

“Getting any crazy urges, McKay?”

The monitoring device between his shoulders seemed very heavy all the sudden. He reached back to scratch but stopped when Sheppard gave him a terrible look.

“Do I get a radio?” Rodney pointedly asked Sheppard.

Sheppard made a sharp gesture, and one of the guards handed one to Rodney. He snugged it inside his ear and turned away from them all. They‘d brought him a white board, and he had a magic marker, and he wanted to work on a few things.

“Are you people still here?” he asked.

“Make sure he has coffee maker,” Zelenka whispered to someone, and that was the smartest thing Rodney had heard in months. “Rodney, I am glad you‘re back, but I am only saying it once.”

“Same here.” Rodney pulled the cap off with his teeth. He didn‘t know how long he had before his next blackout, but he wanted to make the most of it.

“Remember my orders, only stun him if he‘s a danger to himself or you. If he‘s just yelling and throwing things, don‘t bother. That‘s more or less normal. Dr. Beckett will show up with a medical team before long. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” they both said.

Rodney clenched his jaw, refusing to let any words out of his mouth. Sheppard moved to face him squarely, but he looked away.

“Tamper with it, touch it, hell, even look at it, and I‘ll be unhappy with you. Sorta like usual, only worse. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Rodney said between his teeth.

“Say that about ten thousand more times, and I might call some of this even.” Sheppard strolled back to his security detail, and Rodney looked for something to throw at Sheppard‘s back, but there was nothing flammable enough, so he skipped it.

“I‘ll bring you lunch,” Sheppard said.

“I ate.”

Sheppard looked him up and down. “Those pants are about ready to fall off.”

Shocked that Sheppard would look at him, much less say something like that, he clicked his jaw shut. “I‘ll wear my flightsuit,” he mumbled.

“No. You won‘t.” Sheppard‘s eyes were wide, serious, and he stomped from the lab right after he‘d said it. Rodney stared after him for two seconds, and then gave himself a shake. He‘d work until he blacked out again. That made sense, and he didn‘t look up again until the sun had gone down.

Fixing all the errors that his morons had made while he was gone was going to take longer than a day, and he indulged in a long stretch. The thought of going to his quarters made him frown. Instead, he walked out on the balcony and leaned out to enjoy the air.

It was all different, but he was home, and he didn‘t miss the Daedalus, even if it hadn‘t been all bad. He still didn‘t know what to think about Caldwell. They were friends, he knew that, but anything beyond seemed like a stretch. Caldwell did have a great ass – that was undeniable – and he was sexy. It didn‘t feel right somehow, and Rodney wasn‘t sure he was ready to figure out why.

“Dr. McKay? Would you like some company on your walk to your quarters?”

He turned and shrugged. “I always have company. Not that I‘m saying no.” He didn‘t take a step. “I was thinking of sleeping here.”

Teyla looked about. “There is no bed. Walk with me.”

“Yes, ma‘am,” he said to tease her, but she inclined her head as if it were her due, and it was. He shut off the lights after he powered down his computers, and trailed after her through the long hallways with his two shadows close behind. She reached back and tugged him up even with her.

“You should work out with me.”

“Um, no?” Rodney would rather do most anything than swing sticks. “I‘m not going to be going off-world any time soon.”

“You need exercise to clear your mind.” She had that look that said she would be dragging him there if necessary. “We will begin tomorrow.”

He groaned. It was the only possible answer. The transporter was incredibly crowded, and next time he‘d take the stairs. He bolted out, knowing that she thought he was crazy. She hurried after him, and he stopped at his door, unsure that he wanted to go inside.

“Good night, Dr. McKay,” Teyla said.

“‘Night, Teyla.” Rodney opened his door, took several deep breaths, and went inside. He raided his power bar stash, eating quickly while pushing off his shoes. The bed wasn‘t too small, and he shut his eyes. Sleep. He could do it.

Some time later, he wasn‘t sure how long, he gave up. If his heart beat any faster, he might set off the tracking device on his back, and it did itch, damn it. In the corner, he spotted the blanket that Teyla had left on the Daedalus. Grabbing it up, he went back to his lab, avoiding the transporter. Out on his balcony, he curled up in a corner, wrapping the blanket close. He didn‘t try to sleep. He‘d rest. It would be enough.

Voices woke him.

“Long night?”

“Pretty short. He doesn‘t sleep much.”

“But no problems.”

“He gave us a scare a couple of times, but no, nothing.”

Rodney couldn‘t help but wonder what he could have possibly done to fighten a Marine.

“Good to hear. You guys can take off. I‘ll stay with him for a while.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hey, buddy. I brought breakfast. I heard you skipped dinner.”

For some reason, sleeping on concrete hadn‘t left Rodney in the best of moods. His back felt half the way to broken. “Go away.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Seriously, leave.” Rodney wasn‘t sure he was ready to try getting up. He tucked Teyla‘s blanket closer and kept his eyes shut. The sun shone against his eyelids, but he had no energy whatsoever. He sensed it when Sheppard squatted down next to him, and he could smell food.

“Carson says you have to eat, even if it triggers an attack. Remember your raging hypoglycemia?” Sheppard worked the sarcasm like a master.

Rodney opened one eye, took the tray, and sat it down next to him. Idly, he picked up some toast and began to eat. There were any number of things he needed to be doing, but this was about all he could handle at the moment. “I never had sex with Colonel Caldwell.” It popped out of his mouth, along with a few crumbs, and there was no putting either back.

“I don‘t care.” Sheppard had been hovering far too close, but he moved away to the farthest reach of the balcony. “Carson wants to see you this morning.”

“Tired.” Rodney finished the toast and tried to stretch. He didn‘t look at the food, fearing the sight of a tray would send him to crazy land. Using the rail, he pulled himself up, digging his fist into his back and hearing it pop several times. Sheppard said something rude, but Rodney didn‘t listen and didn‘t care to answer.

What he really needed was a shower, but it was a long walk. He only stumbled once on his way to his laptop, and he called up a schematic of this end of the pier.

“What‘re you doing?”

Leaning into his fist, he put his radio back in his ear. He might as well get organized and then he could focus on work. It‘d be nice to have some help, but he didn‘t want to have to ask.

“Rodney?”

He walked out, heading left instead of right.

“Wait up!”

Rodney didn‘t hurry, but he didn‘t slow down, and it wasn‘t far. He opened the door and nodded. This would do fine.

“You‘re pissing me off.”

Instead of talking, he hauled and pushed, and Sheppard watched, one hand on his stunner. When Ronon picked up the other end of the mattress, Rodney grunted in surprise. With help, it didn‘t take long to move all the furniture into his lab, and setting it up was a matter of pushing things along the walls.

“You need a shower,” Ronon said.

“Going there next.” Rodney opened his tool kit and tossed Ronon a chocolate bar. “Thanks for the help.”

“Wait, you gave him chocolate?” Sheppard protested loudly.

Ronon grinned at his prize. “That thing itch?”

“Like hell. I‘m hoping it comes off in the shower.” Rodney started for his quarters. He‘d pack his clothes and food while he was there, and then he wouldn‘t have to screw around with walking back and forth. “Teyla is making me work out today. You should stop by to laugh.”

“Sounds like fun.” Ronon touched his ear piece. “Okay, gotta go.” He trotted off, and Rodney was glad they weren‘t all going to be in the transporter together.

Sheppard touched the light, and Rodney got as far away as possible. “So this is how you‘re going to play it?”

Rodney tried to think of something clever to say, coming up with nothing. He trotted to his quarters and went straight to the bathroom to strip out of his clothes. The water felt good, and he was in no hurry to face Atlantis again, or Sheppard. Shutting his eyes, he let the water scratch his back, and hopefully the stupid thing was waterproof. Surely Zelenka wasn‘t that stupid.

“You okay in there?”

The water shut off, and Rodney was sure he hadn‘t done it. “No, I was electrocuted by the tracking device!”

“Good.” The door shut. Rodney grabbed a towel and scrubbed dry. He wrapped it tight around his hips and stepped out, fully expecting to see Sheppard lounging, but he wasn‘t there. Rodney locked his door to make sure that situation didn‘t change. He dressed, eyeing his flightsuit rebelliously but not sure he wanted to see Sheppard‘s reaction this early in the morning.

Packing took two duffel bags, he made sure to get every power bar, even the ones he didn‘t like. Grabbing a handful of flash drives, and a laptop that he hated, he ventured out the door. Sheppard was slouched against the wall. He looked up and grumbled something about forever, and Rodney didn‘t bother to try to hand him anything. He was far too busy fondling his stunner.

The transporter wasn‘t doable so Rodney dragged his feet, grumbling, until Sheppard lifted his hand to his ear. A quick dash, doors that cooperated, and he stepped out on the other side without freaking. He stopped about three feet from the transporter and waited. It didn‘t take long for Sheppard to emerge, furious, of course.

“Brig! Right now!”

“Yes, sir.” Rodney wasn‘t getting on that transporter with Sheppard again, unless they made him, and they might. “Can I drop this stuff off first?”

Sheppard pointed at Rodney‘s guts. “I told you not to ditch your security!”

“Is that what you are? I thought we were hanging out,” Rodney deadpanned. His shoulders started to ache so he started for his lab. “You coming?”

Sheppard stalked after him, and Rodney pretended that he wasn‘t hurrying, but he was, and he didn‘t bother to sort his underwear and socks. About the time he thought Sheppard was going to march him to the brig, they both heard, “Is Rodney on his way?”

“I‘m bringing him,” Sheppard growled into his headset.

Rodney snatched up a chocolate chip power bar for the trip. “Can we take the stairs?”

“No. You can deal with it.” Sheppard took him by the elbow, and it wasn‘t a friendly touch like Caldwell‘s had always been. It was going to leave bruises, and Rodney yelped, only to be ignored.

Carson was near the door when they got there. “I didn‘t say drag him!”

“I‘m this close to tossing him in the brig!” Sheppard finally let go, and Rodney rubbed his arm as he hopped up on the closest gurney.

“Rodney, you must behave,” Carson fussed.

“He didn‘t eat.” Sheppard was practically gloating at having Carson back him up. “He also doesn‘t complain about it, and my freak out factor is way above ten.”

“He‘s worried my pants will fall down.” Rodney took off his glasses, cleaned them with his shirt, and set them aside so he could rub his eyes.

“They are a mite loose. You do have boxers on?”

“Why would I?” Rodney opened his eyes and watched his world double. “You know, I love it when everything goes double. Twice the fun. Twice the-” He pointed at Sheppard. “Assholes.”

Sheppard clenched his fists. “You made everyone hate me, and I nearly got sent back to Earth!”

“Well, you beat me up and then refused to tell the truth! If you had, I wouldn‘t be so screwed! My career is down the toilet! And I thought I was gay!”

“You won a Wolf Prize!” Sheppard pointed right back at him. “And trust me, you‘re gay, and you‘ve got a filthy mouth!”

“I was high, and it‘s not my fault you‘re so sexy you can attract lemurs!”

“Okay, now, I think we‘re done.” Carson tapped his earpiece. “Ronon, please come remove Colonel Sheppard from my infirmary. “He paused. “No, you may not stun him.”

Carson stepped so he was almost between Rodney‘s legs. “Not one more word! Not!”

Rodney crossed his arms and shut his mouth. He was finished for now, and he‘d made his point, or he thought he had.

Sheppard glared until Ronon showed up, and Carson shooed them both out. “Now Rodney, what‘s this about you not eating?”

“I had toast and a power bar.” Rodney went for his glasses, but Carson stopped him, and that began another invasive hour of tests. He kept quiet until it was over. “Carson, do I have to do this every day?”

“I‘m thinking you do,” Carson said, nodding his head. “Two bits of advice: don‘t fight with Sheppard, you might have a blackout, and for God‘s sake, eat!”

“I try!” Rodney waved his hands for no good reason. “I get nauseous!”

“Thick in the throat or stomach nauseous?”

“Crap,” Rodney muttered, but he thought about it. “Thick in the throat.”

“That‘s most likely psychological. You‘re flashing back to the food that was laced with Wraith enzyme.”

“Well, am I the poster boy for Dr. Heightmeyer or what? I bet I can get frequent flyer miles.” Rodney got off the gurney and yanked up his droopy pants. “Can I go to work now?

“Aye.” Carson stepped close and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I heard you holed up on the North Pier. That‘s quite a distance if you have a problem.”

“Nothing you can do but stun me anyway.” Rodney didn‘t care for the pity. “You can come visit me tomorrow.”

“Okay, that‘s fair.”

A nurse hurried up, and Rodney slipped away before he had to give more blood. Sheppard and Ronon were waiting for him.

“No, just no. I want someone else!”

“Too bad.” Sheppard reached for him, and Rodney resorted to hiding behind Ronon. No more bruises was the plan. Ronon stared down at him in what could only be described as a curious manner.

“Let me see it.”

“What?” Rodney held his shirt down. “No!”

Ronon pulled Rodney‘s shirt up and stared. Rodney refused to twist like a fish on a hook, but he was feeling it.

“Ronon, please turn Dr. McKay loose.”

Rodney hurried to get behind Teyla. She could be counted on to protect him. Ronon pulled his blaster and flipped it several times. “You could run.”

“No, he won‘t,” Sheppard growled. “It monitors his vital signs, and Carson insisted.”

“Who insisted on the locator beacon?” Rodney asked sarcastically. He knew there was one back there.

“Me.” Sheppard gestured down the hallway. “Where to, McKay?”

“Dr. McKay and I were going to work out.”

“He didn‘t eat.”

“You sure that‘s McKay?” Ronon asked.

“Unfortunately,” Sheppard said.

Rodney stepped around Teyla and shoved Sheppard hard into the wall. “The brig will be fine!”

Ronon slid in between them. “Dr. Weir will kick your ass.” He wrapped his meaty hand around Rodney‘s neck and took him towards the transporter. Rodney could hear Teyla trying to talk reason to Sheppard, but she was wasting her time. Ronon didn‘t turn him loose until he was in his lab.

“Stupid,” Ronon growled. He sprawled on the bed and picked a knife out of his hair. “You tried to kiss him?”

“Hell, I don‘t know. Maybe I wanted to bite him from sheer frustration.” Rodney kicked a chair before going to settle in front of his laptops. “I‘m going to work now. You shut up.” Words he‘d never thought he‘d have to say to Ronon.

Zelenka showed up at some point, and Rodney was glad to find his rhythm again, going on a few repairs – security in tow – arguing about subsystems, and filling his whiteboard with both equations and projects that needed to be completed.

Teyla‘s workout wasn‘t as bad as he‘d thought it would be, and his life settled around him. It was almost possible to pretend that he didn‘t have a tracking device between his shoulders, and after a couple of days, he wanted to pretend that he was cured.

And then Sheppard showed up. He‘d stayed away, and that had been a very good thing. Rodney put the cap on the magic marker while Sheppard sent the latest security detail to bed. The sun had begun to peek over the ocean, and there was a cool breeze coming in the open door. His nostrils flared as the smell of food mixed with water and the scent of Sheppard‘s aftershave.

“You need to eat,” Sheppard said, coming over and holding out a tray. Rodney stared down at it; his hands hung loose at his sides. Sheppard glowered. “Teyla says we can‘t fight, so eat.”

The room was suddenly far too small, walls pushing in on him, pressure like vise, and he slapped the tray into Sheppard‘s chest. “Get out!” He clawed at his back, seeing Sheppard‘s confusion. The sound of food slipping to the floor was loud enough to make him wince, and he moved almost in slow motion, grabbing the stunner from Sheppard‘s hand and throwing it violently.

“Rodney!”

His vision faded from too many colors to grey and then black slammed down on him. When consciousness crept up on him and rapped him between the eyes, he groaned and curled, hoping it would go away, but his arms weren‘t working, or his legs for that matter.

“Awake, Rodney?”

“Yeah,” he managed. His arms and legs felt like lumps of lead, and he wasn‘t sure he could move them, even if he could move them. “Bad one.”

“Very bad.” Carson spoke softly. “I put in an IV with a sedative. Lie still now.”

He laughed roughly. “Restraints will make that easy.”

“Oh, aye.” Carson didn‘t remove them. He gently touched Rodney‘s arm. “I‘ve spent quite a bit time now trying to make a timeline for these episodes, even doing studies on the cellular level, and it appears to be random. The enzyme builds up in your soft tissues at irregular intervals until it floods your body.”

“I noticed that.” Rodney rubbed the back of his head against the pillow. He was beyond exhausted, but he knew Carson would keep talking. “Will it end soon?”

“I have no idea.” Carson sounded regretful. “I didn‘t think it could happen in the first place. I‘ll keep working on the problem.”

“Thanks,” Rodney whispered. His eyes weren‘t open any longer. “Did I hurt anyone? I remember Sheppard was there.”

Carson said nothing, and Rodney forced himself halfway up. “Sheppard?” He couldn‘t have hurt him, again. No, just no.

“Lie back and rest.” Carson pushed him back easily enough. “Colonel Sheppard is fine. I promise.”

Rodney had to be content with that because sleep wasn‘t going to be denied.

“Aye, I think his attacks have been worse lately.”

“Carson, I need some recommendations here. I‘m not sure Colonel Sheppard is capable of making a calm danger assessment at the moment.”

“He does seem a wee bit put out. Ronon laughing isn‘t helping things.”

“Hey, can you guys do this somewhere else?” Rodney croaked. He struggled to sit up but quit when the restraints kept him down. He felt like he‘d been asleep for ten minutes, and he thoroughly resented people talking over him, about him.

“Hello, Rodney. Good you could join us.” Carson got him a sip of water and did something to the IV. “Feeling better?”

“Sure.” Rodney caught Weir‘s eyes. “They‘re worse. I want you to confine me, put me somewhere I can‘t hurt people.”

She stepped close to him, crossing her arms across her chest. “I don‘t want to do that.”

Carson gave Rodney his customary pat. “Rodney, how did you deal with this on the Daedalus?”

He frowned, trying to push away the cobwebs and think. “Novak would give me a list of things to do, and I would do them, and I slept in the fighter bay a lot. Occasionally, Caldwell gave me mandatory eight hours in my cabin and that‘s when I would, um, feel the pressure.”

“You didn‘t interact with anyone?” Weir sounded shocked.

“Not usually. The pilots were okay guys, but I was busy.”

She simply stared down at him. Carson gave him another sip. “Is it possible that human interaction – stress – is making them worse?”

“Are you seriously asking me?” Rodney asked incredulously.

“No.” Carson nodded several times. “Adrenaline is doing it, most likely. I‘ll run a few tests. Did you happen to be arguing with Colonel Sheppard when this last one happened?”

“Don‘t remember. He was there. With food?” He wasn‘t sure. “Watch the video.”

“I will.” Carson sighed. “That‘s my recommendation, Dr. Weir. Isolate him in his lab. Guards on the outside with a live feed. No contact except medical.”

“I‘ll speak to Colonel Sheppard, and we‘ll discuss it again.”

Rodney wanted to yell at her that it was the best idea he‘d heard in weeks, but he was too tired to bother. God, he hated the Wraith. “Wait, he‘s really okay?”

“Yes, Rodney, but you, um-” Carson turned bright red. “Maybe not in front of the lady.”

“You gave him a hickey,” Weir said, rolling her eyes, “and you broke his arm.”

“I did not!” Rodney seriously didn‘t want to believe that. “I‘m sure it‘s a bruise from falling or something!”

“Yeah, you fell on him, broke his arm, and then sucked on his neck. Interesting fighting style.” Ronon grinned. “Good thing I came along to save him from your lips.”

“Good thing I had a medical team on the way,” Carson said. “Rodney, no one cares that you‘re gay.”

Weir seemed to be hiding a smile, and Ronon had already left, laughing. Rodney snapped, “I‘m both, okay? Trust me when I say that Colonel Samantha Carter gets my engine going!” He shut his eyes and turned his face away from them. “Lock me away, please. I can‘t stand this.”

Now Weir and Carson turned serious. “It would be for the best, Elizabeth. Rodney could work and have the occasional tantrum, and I wouldn‘t be mending arms.”

“You don‘t have an estimate on a cure?”

“I‘m going to keep at, and if I can figure out a way to flush his system, well, that would be lovely, but don‘t count on it.”

Rodney screwed his eyes shut and tried to force himself to breathe regularly. By the time they let him up, he was going to have a bed sore from the damn tracking device. There wasn‘t enough oxygen in the room, and he needed the restraints off. He noticed his hands were yanking violently at the straps, but he couldn‘t make them stop.

“Rodney! Listen to me!”

“Let me go!” Rodney arched his back, thrashing. “Now!”

“Christ.”

He fought until the black took him away. The next thing he knew he was on the floor in his lab, thinking he shouldn‘t have rolled out of bed. Muscles protesting, he crawled back on the bed and collapsed. Fresh air from the open door teased over him, and he felt as if his lungs expanded to pull it in with a happy sigh. He had no idea how long he lay upon his bed, but eventually the smell of coffee drifted over to him, and he was willing to force his body to get to it.

“Thank you, Carson,” he said, sure someone was listening. He slumped down on a convenient stool and drank two cups before even trying to think. They must have gone with Carson‘s plan, and he looked up into a video camera. He had no doubt there wasn‘t one inch of privacy, not even in the bathroom, but he couldn‘t bring himself to care.

Opening his laptop, he scanned through emails, refusing to open them, until one caught his eye. It was a list from Zelenka of things to do. Rodney rubbed his face hard, realized he‘d forgotten his glasses and got up to find them. Slipping them on, he went back to the list.

********

fourteen days later

When the door opened, Rodney whipped around from his position on the balcony. Sheppard and Carson came inside together, and they both looked reluctant to be there. Rodney, for his part, walked to his bed, sat down, and extended his arm. He‘d seen Carson several times for blood and woken up with bandaids on his arm more times than he wanted to remember, and this had to be more of the same.

“Thank you, lad.” Carson smiled, putting his kit on the bed and getting out his equipment. “I have good news. The levels of enzyme are dropping. I‘m sure of it. I think you‘re through the worst of it.”

Rodney nodded, not knowing what to say. His voice felt rusty from disuse. It was good news that he‘d be sane before too much longer. “How many more times?”

Carson expertly applied the bandaid. “There‘s no way to tell, but I hope not too many. You‘re beyond exhausted. Do you ever sleep?”

“He shouldn‘t be here,” Rodney whispered. He slept after attacks, and there had been so many of them, but Sheppard needed to leave. “I don‘t want to hurt him.”

“His arm is well on the way to being healed. I took the cast off today.” Carson patted him on the leg. “As long as you don‘t fall on it again, he‘ll be fine.”

“It‘s time to go to Earth, McKay,” Sheppard interrupted them. “I tried to get you out of it, but the SGC is insisting, and Woolsey wants to talk to you in person.”

That was the worst news possible. He stared at them hopelessly, trying to think of ways to get out of it that wouldn‘t require surgery. “No.”

“I thought you might say that.” Sheppard pulled Carson away. “But I have my orders.”

Getting to his feet, he saw the worry flicker over both of their faces. “How many attacks in the last few days?”

“Eight,” Carson said. The sadness on his face was easy to see. “I‘m sure you‘re almost out of the woods though. Your first attack was most likely in Colonel Sheppard‘s quarters – that night – and they‘ve gotten worse since then, but the last two were definitely milder.”

Rodney had stopped listening after the first of it. He glanced over his shoulder at the balcony, wishing, wanting, and needing.

“Don‘t even think it.” Sheppard‘s hand was hard on him. “You‘re nearly well. You didn‘t go through this hell only to quit now.”

It had been hell, and he‘d gone through it alone. Carson had been a presence but never there, and Rodney wet his dry lips. “Did you even notice? Or care?” He wasn‘t sorry he‘d said what he‘d been thinking since his first trip on the Daedalus. “I injected that enzyme for you, the team. I tried. It didn‘t matter in the end, but I tried.”

Whatever Sheppard might‘ve said, and from the look on his face, it wasn‘t going to be a nice, was interrupted when the door opened.

Weir smiled nervously. “Rodney, are you ready to go?”

“No, but it seems I don‘t have a choice.” He gestured at Sheppard. “You brought restraints?”

Sheppard‘s jaw twitched, not a good sign. He touched his ear. “Lorne, prepare McKay for transport.”

Carson moved very close. “Rodney, try to stay calm.”

“Give me something,” Rodney hissed. “Now. Before I‘m in that damn mountain!” He backed away a few steps before realizing that he had, and when Lorne came inside, it was more than he could bear. “No award is worth this!”

The security team fanned out and circled him, and he looked beseechingly at Carson. “Please!”

“Rodney!”

Rodney looked Sheppard full in the face, and they moved fast. They put a wide leather belt around his hips, and his arms were strapped to it before he quite knew what was happening.

“Rodney, we look forward to your return,” Weir said.

“Hang on a minute, lads.” Carson wiped Rodney‘s arm and the needle hitting him was pure relief for its promise.

“Are we going to have to carry him?” Lorne asked.

“No, but he‘ll be fuzzy when he gets there. Take him straight to the infirmary.”

That meant Carson wasn‘t coming along, and while Rodney hadn‘t expected it, he still was disappointed. Dr. Lam was mostly evil. He tried not to yank against the restraints.

“Settle down, McKay,” Sheppard said. “I‘ll take him through the transporter alone. Let‘s go.”

“John, be careful,” Weir said, “and don‘t get comfortable on Earth. I expect you back.”

“Keep the porch light on for us.”

“Will do.”

Any other time, Rodney would‘ve told them to get a room, but he was actively trying not to crawl out of his skin. Sheppard hustled him through the long hallways, and the transporter could‘ve been worse, and Ronon and Teyla materialized from somewhere, flanking them. In a blink, they were in the gate room. The chevrons spun, and Rodney spotted Zelenka‘s worried face up on the balcony.

“White board!” he yelled and saw the thumbs up. Sheppard still had hold of him, and that was when it hit him that they were going together. The drugs picked that moment to settle into his brain and bones, and he sagged. The ka-whoosh was very loud.

“I got him.”

“Isn‘t that a terrible place to be, hum?” Rodney mumbled, trying to rip away from him, but his arms weren‘t working right. His feet felt miles away, but he could see them taking him closer to the blue. He really, really didn‘t want to go. “I like my lab.”

“Rodney, if you arrive kicking and screaming, you will never live it down,” Sheppard whispered in Rodney‘s ear.

“Why are you going?” Rodney didn‘t know if he whispered or yelled.

“Drew the short straw.”

And they were stepping through to another galaxy, and the trip flipped him upside down, and that had never happened before, and before he knew it he was swaying in front of General O‘Neill and Mr. Woolsey.

“Welcome back,” O‘Neill said. “This debrief is going to take forever, isn‘t it?”

“Pretty much,” Sheppard said.

Rodney looked up, felt the weight of tons of rock, and cringed. Gulping for air, his knees began to go out. “Oh, God.”

“I have to get him to the infirmary. Carson gave him something.” Sheppard‘s hand was tight around Rodney‘s arm. “He‘s been better.”

“I can see that,” O‘Neill said. “Get him settled and then find me.”

“Us.”

“Whatever.”

Rodney tried not to go crazy. He really did, and if Sheppard hadn‘t smelled so damn good the situation never would‘ve unraveled so spectacularly. Blacking out would‘ve been great, but his tolerance to that had been increasing, and that meant he would remember for the rest of his life Sheppard‘s face as he was tackled into Woolsey. They tumbled to the floor, and jumping on top of them wasn‘t the best idea he‘d ever had, but he knew he couldn‘t make the door. Sinking his teeth into Sheppard‘s shoulder, need raged inside him.

“Teal‘c, do me a favor and shoot me.”

“Indeed.”

Waking up from a zat blast hurt, but what really bugged him was the fact that people were always standing over him, discussing the situation without his input.

“How can he function at an event like the Wolf awards?”

“He‘ll do better once we get him out of the mountain. He went for hours without any problem in Atlantis.” That was Sheppard.

“I‘d like to see some improvement before he goes,” O‘Neill piped up.

“You won‘t. He‘s claustrophobic and paranoid from the enzyme.” Sheppard sounded tired. “Beam us to a safe site in Israel. He can get his bearings at a hotel, with big windows, and a balcony. Right after the ceremony, we‘ll return to the Daedalus. It‘s that or forget it, because he won‘t make it.”

“I didn‘t realize the extent of his illness,” Woolsey said.

“Wraith enzyme makes a person nuts. Read the reports again.”

“People! Shut up!” Rodney couldn‘t take it another minute. They all looked at him. He tried to lift his hands and couldn‘t. “Get me out of this mountain!”

“The voice of reason,” O‘Neill said. “Fine. First, the Daedalus, and then on to Israel, and then back to the Daedalus. You‘re going to clean him up, right?”

“Yes, but the Air Force owes me a big one.”

“I‘m forced to agree. Any chance he‘ll get well soon?”

“Carson thinks it won‘t be much longer.”

“For your sake, I hope so,” O‘Neill said. “McKay, would you rather be sedated or hit with a zat for your field trip?”

“Let me go!” Rodney managed to get mostly up, fighting the restraints. “Now!”

“I‘m thinking both.”

Waking up on a huge bed with crisp white sheets, sunshine beaming through a big open glass door, was enough of a shock to make Rodney stare. He rolled over fast, expecting restraints, and landed hard on the floor.

“Good, you‘re awake.” Sheppard stood over him. “If you make one move towards me that‘s sexual in nature, I will hit you so hard that you wake up on the Daedalus.”

“Yeah, what‘s new?” Rodney got up enough to roll back on the bed. A hot breeze teased over him, and he stared out at the sunshine, trying to suck it inside his body. “Did I bite you?” He thought maybe he had.

“Yes,” Sheppard snapped. “It hurt!”

“Sorry I humped your leg.” He felt bad about that, and he‘d try very hard never to do it again.

“I think that was Woolsey‘s leg.” Sheppard suddenly slumped down into a chair. Rodney leaned up enough to rest on his elbows. Their eyes met, and they both laughed. Sheppard scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I thought O‘Neill was going to die from not laughing.”

Letting his body collapse back flat, Rodney smiled. He might, if he were lucky, have a couple of hours before another attack hit. “You smell so good,” he said softly. Trying to explain, he continued, “When the enzyme hits me, you smell like pumpkin pie and chocolate chip cookies all wrapped up, and I have to have you.”

“I‘m disturbed by that.”

“So am I.” Rodney let his eyes drift shut.

“But you made a list.” Sheppard didn‘t move any closer. “Yes, I found it. Took me awhile, but I know how you think. You weren‘t even trying with the password.”

Rodney was too tired – fatigue always hit hard after an attack – to be offended. “Of course I have a crush on you. Everyone does. It doesn‘t mean I was ever going to act on it. You‘re straight. Caldwell told me so.”

“Caldwell said that, huh?” Sheppard‘s voice was soft. “Rodney, we were coming for you. I never would‘ve left you behind. The only reason we didn‘t head right back out was because Elizabeth told me you were on the Daedalus. That was a shock.”

“But it doesn‘t mean anything.” Rodney was pretty sure after everything that had recently happened that he could be okay with that. “I‘m on your team, but you don‘t care. You‘ve made that clear, very clear, and if it hadn‘t been for the enzyme, none of this would‘ve happened.”

“Get some sleep.” Sheppard shut the blinds, making the sun disappear. “You need it.”

There was no way to argue with that because he could feel it all slowing down. The next thing he knew, Sheppard dropped a towel on him. “A shower would be a good thing.”

Groggily, he raised his head and tried to make his eyes work. “We‘re not on Atlantis.”

“Genius at work.” Sheppard snorted. “I‘ll go start the water.”

“I thought maybe I dreamed it.” He wished he had, but, no, he had assaulted Sheppard, again, in the gateroom of the SGC. His vision doubled, and he cursed softly as he struggled off the big bed, grasping the towel. He did smell bad. “Why are you here?”

Sheppard came out of the bathroom and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Your bath awaits.”

“God, you are so funny.” Rodney estimated where the door really was and bumped into the doorjamb.

“You okay?”

“Tell me you brought my glasses!” Rodney spared him a glance because any more than that was asking for trouble.

“On the side table,” Sheppard said slowly. “Hey, buddy, I‘m sorry about that.”

Rodney didn‘t want to discuss it or think about it. He‘d deserved it, but it‘d been awful, and that was the end of it. He shut the bathroom door, managing not to slam it too hard. “I hate that word. Buddy. He can shove it up his ass,” he grumbled, stripping out of his clothes. Kicking them under the sink was satisfying in a juvenile way. That‘s when it hit him he was actually in Israel about to receive a very prestigious award for work that while he mostly remembered, parts of it were a blur. He could only hope that he didn‘t have to defend his theory. Not that he couldn‘t.

“Here‘s some clothes.”

“Christ, Sheppard, get the hell out!”

“Rodney, you gave me a hickey. We‘re past the stage where you get to be embarrassed about me seeing you in the shower.”

“I did not! Okay, I did, but get out!”

Sheppard left laughing, and Rodney wondered where all that anger had gone. It didn‘t make sense that Sheppard would get over it – in either of their lifetimes. Finished, he couldn‘t help but notice the towels were much fluffier than the ones on Atlantis. He was going to have to liberate a few of them.

Boxers, sweats, and a grey T-shirt were on the sink, and he guessed that this meant that the award ceremony wasn‘t tonight. He dressed quickly, scruffed up his hair, and spotted his glasses. Feeling vulnerable, he slipped out, looking for Sheppard, but the room was empty.

The mini-bar, however, was full, and Rodney took the entire contents, except the orange juice, to the bed. He flipped on the TV and sprawled, feeling the customary pinch from his tracking device. He was more than certain that the Daedalus was keeping him under constant surveillance. Otherwise, Sheppard never would‘ve left the room.

“Room service!”

“Come in!” Rodney hoped there was something that wasn‘t drenched in lemon. The waiter pushed a cart inside and parked it by the bed. Not pouncing on it was difficult. Rodney cleared his throat. ‘I don‘t have any money.” He flushed.

“Some guy out in the hall tipped me.” The waiter grinned. “Anything else?”

“Um, no?” Rodney wanted to eat everything, but unfortunately, it wasn‘t possible. “If you see him, you could ask him to join me?”

“Sure.” The waiter pulled the main cover off the food and headed out the door. It was steak, French fries, corn, and other good stuff, and Rodney groaned.

The door opened again, and it was Sheppard. He took one look and said, “The entire mini-bar?”

“I left the orange juice.” Rodney wasn‘t sure where to start, but he was looking forward to the challenge, and he wasn‘t sharing. However, he wasn‘t in the mood to be alone. “Pull up a chair?”

“As long as I‘m not on the menu.” Sheppard shrugged his shoulders with great exaggeration. “I‘m serious.”

Rodney rolled his eyes and cut up the steak. The first bite was heaven. Sheppard stole some fries, and it was hard not to stab him. “When is this thing?”

“Tomorrow evening. Your tux will be here tomorrow afternoon.” Sheppard, for all appearances, was watching television. “This is stupid, huh?”

“You mean the fact that we‘re in a hotel in Israel together, after I‘ve sexually assaulted you three times and you broke my face? Why, yes, yes, it is.” Rodney ate all the corn before noticing that Sheppard was staring at him. “What?”

“I meant the show.”

“Oh.” Rodney looked at the television and frowned. “What the hell?”

“I have no idea. Give me the remote.” Sheppard snatched it before Rodney could. Rodney didn‘t protest because he had food and candy bars, and he was seriously considering eating until he puked. Sheppard ate most of the fries, but Rodney concentrated on the steak and the tiny bottles of booze. He was generous enough to hand Sheppard the vodka. After Russia, vodka had lost all its charm.

“If you‘re going to have an attack, I want some warning.”

“I can see you‘re very concerned.” Rodney peeled open the Snickers with real glee. He was so full he could barely move, but he was going to eat it.

“If you‘re going to puke, same rule applies.”

“Are you sleeping in here tonight?” Rodney wanted to know. He wasn‘t planning on sleeping himself. He‘d slept all day. “I might jump you.”

Sheppard gave him a look that wasn‘t friendly. “What I really want to know is who the hell you were humping on the Daedalus? Caldwell? That cute airman? Novak?”

“Oh, God, stop, please.” Rodney held his stomach and laughed. When he finished, he noticed that Sheppard hadn‘t laughed at all. “You‘re serious? That pilot was, like, twelve!” He took a deep breath. “You‘re trying to make me puke, aren‘t you?” He glared. “You thought he was cute?”

“Shut up,” Sheppard growled.

“No, no, no, you don‘t get to be jealous. Not ever. Not even if I hump Ronon, who might kill me for it, but still! No!” Rodney tried to slow his breathing. “Wait. A. Damn. Minute.”

“Some genius you are.” Sheppard slammed the door on his way out. Rodney fell back on his mountain of pillows, completely confused. If he were honest, he wasn‘t sure what were true memories and what were Wraith hallucinations, but he was sure he remembered Sheppard angry, furious. They‘d had several conversations where Sheppard had said very cruel things. Once or twice, they had even made sense.

Sliding off the bed, he went out the door, careful to turn the lock so he could get back inside, and looked up and down the hallway. There was no way to tell where Sheppard had gone. Rodney glared at the world for a moment and then couldn‘t resist padding down to the lobby to get a newspaper, hopefully in English. His Hebrew was rusty.

The lobby manager gave him a strange look, but there was coffee and papers from all around the world, and Rodney decided to hang out instead of returning to his room. He found a comfortable spot on a big sofa where he could watch people coming in if he wanted, put a pile of newspapers close by, and breathed deep of his coffee. It was premium.

Abruptly, his genius kicked in, and it flooded him with memories, thoughts, insights, and reactions to the core problem. This usually only happened when he was about to be killed by the Pegasus galaxy, and two immediate solutions presented themselves.

First, he could let them haul him around, continue to have attacks, and return to Atlantis to work in his lab. Or, he could run. Find a place to wait this out and go back to Atlantis on his own terms, instead of in restraints. Three weeks on the Daedalus, caught between Caldwell and Sheppard would be absolute hell.

“Damn it, McKay!”

It wouldn‘t be easy, but Rodney was confident of his ability to get rid of the tracking device. That left his subcutaneous transponder, and the fact that he was in Israel. All issues that could be dealt with, for a price.

“I wanted a newspaper,” Rodney said calmly. He drank some coffee, watching Sheppard touch his ear piece and no doubt tell the Daedalus that the situation was under control. When Sheppard‘s attention focused on him, he spoke firmly. “Were you aware, Colonel, that I‘m a civilian contractor, and it clearly states in said contract that I may opt out at any time?”

“I knew this was going to happen,” Sheppard hissed. “I warned them you‘d only be pushed so far.”

“You never were as dumb as your hair makes you look.” Rodney took another sip and folded the paper so he could read. He tried not to look at Sheppard – black jeans, black T-shirt – and figure out what that expression meant.

Sheppard got some coffee and sat across from him. “You want to run? Hell, if I were you, I‘d have bolted before now.”

“You‘re here as O‘Neill‘s watchdog, making sure the scientist gets back to the mountain.” Rodney turned the paper over, trying to keep it casual.

“I‘m here because I wanted to help. You‘re on my team.” Sheppard grabbed a paper and gave it a cursory glance. “But I‘m not real keen on someone hopped up on enzyme running around Earth.”

Rodney could see where he might be dangerous, and hearing the word ‘team‘ made him angry. The pressure spiked in an instant, and he ran, he ran as fast as any McKay had ever run, back to his room.

“Rodney!” Sheppard grabbed hold of him.

“Out! Get out!” Rodney pulled and shoved at him simultaneously. He wanted to throw him on the bed and do nasty things. “No!”

Sheppard tackled him to the floor, holding him down hard, and Rodney bucked up into him.

“I‘ve got you.”

Straining, Rodney tried with all his might to get Sheppard off but only succeeded in kneeing him in the back. Jerking up, he managed to get his teeth in Sheppard‘s upper arm.

“Ow!”

Rocking, biting, growling: Rodney indulged himself. This was what he‘d wanted from the beginning, and he wasn‘t letting go until someone stunned him. Wrapping his legs around Sheppard‘s hips, he ground them together. “I want to mark you. Make you mine.”

“We haven‘t even dated yet!” Sheppard groaned. “Enough with the arm!”

Turning him loose was hard, but he did it so he could make a play for Sheppard‘s mouth. All he got was a mouthful of hair as Sheppard shifted enough to hold him down, practically smothering him. For one full second, he panicked and then he arched up, his vision spun him around, and he orgasmed. It left him broken, barely able to breathe, brain cells dead, and his entire body feeling like one big bruise.

Carefully, Sheppard eased off him, and he took a shuddering breath.

“Better?”

Words weren‘t possible. He managed to roll over, the bathroom was close, and he crawled there. Lying his face on the cool tile, he tried to ignore the part of his brain that was gibbering about bacteria and feet and such. When he couldn‘t lie there any longer, he used the side of the tub to pull himself up to sitting.

“Rodney, I don‘t want you to panic, but, well, come isn‘t usually that color.”

Scrabbling at his sweats, he saw where some had leaked out on his stomach. Green. It was green. Pale green, almost translucent. Green. “Oh, crap.”

“I agree. Completely.” Sheppard touched his earpiece. “Daedalus, this is Sheppard. Please beam myself and Dr. McKay to the infirmary.”

“No!” Rodney got halfway up before the beam caught him, and he promptly fell on his ass in the infirmary. Dr. Mason walked over to stare down at him. “Um, hi?”

“What‘s the problem, Sheppard?” Caldwell said. Rodney blushed bright red as Caldwell‘s sharp eyes took in the situation in an instant. “Your arm is bleeding. Nurse! Bandage that while Dr. Mason sees to Dr. McKay.”

Dr. Mason gave Caldwell a steady look before turning back to Rodney. “Up on the gurney. Now.”

Rodney scrambled up, appreciating the slight help and damn grateful when she pulled the sheet around. “Would you be willing to sedate me until I‘m fifty? Because that is the only way I‘m going to live all this down.”

“No.” Dr. Mason gave him a thorough exam, took a sample of what was giving Rodney palpitations, and left him alone. She came back quickly and said, “Is that new?”

“I have no idea. I haven‘t in forever!” Rodney thought he would‘ve remembered green come. “I‘m dying, aren‘t I?”

“I doubt it.” Dr. Mason frowned – not a good look on her – and gave him a shot. He didn‘t bother asking what it was. She put a bandaid on his arm. “Go shower. I‘ll find you some clean clothes. I want to check on Colonel Sheppard‘s bite. I can assume that was you?”

“Um, yes? He has one on his shoulder too.” Rodney cringed and tried to hurry to the shower. His feet were dragging, but he hadn‘t blacked out. He‘d almost passed out from pleasure, but that was different. Ripping off his clothes, he tried to shower without looking at his dick. Green? That was wrong in so many ways that he couldn‘t summon the energy to begin listing them. He scrubbed until he was practically raw, dressed in the scrubs laid out for him, and put on his glasses. Actually going out to face them was impossible, so he leaned against the door.

“Dr. McKay, if you‘re finished, we need to talk.”

He groaned and trudged out to find that Dr. Mason meant two colonels and herself when she‘d said ‘we.‘

“I‘m not apologizing again. He jumped me. I told him to leave, but no, he thought it would be more fun to play linebacker, knowing that I was crazy with the enzyme!” Rodney crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

Caldwell glanced at Sheppard. “He‘s sounding more like himself.”

“He is, isn‘t he?” Sheppard flexed his arm and winced. “Hell of a biter. If I were you, Colonel, I‘d find someone else to play chess with.”

“Interesting advice.”

“Gentlemen, shut up for a moment.” Dr. Mason waved her hand at a display on a laptop. “Dr. McKay, your semen is heavily laced with Wraith enzyme.”

“Excuse me?” Rodney thought he might fall over. Sheppard steadied him.

“The enzyme has been breaking down, releasing as sweat and other toxins. Have you looked at your urine lately?”

“God, no.”

“It‘s most likely slightly greenish-yellow.” Dr. Mason turned to face him more fully. “This is a good thing. I recommend you have as many orgasms as possible. Empty your system, so to speak.”

“I – I – would like this all to be a terrible nightmare,” Rodney whispered.

“Oh, and drink lots of water.” Dr. Mason shifted so she was staring at Sheppard. “I‘m sending you with an antibiotic cream. Use it. Human bites are filthy, and his bites leave enzyme behind.” She handed it to him, and he sighed as he took it.

“Ew,” Sheppard said. “Cooties.”

Caldwell snorted. “Wraith cooties.”

“You two are so mature!” Rodney smacked Sheppard on the arm because it would hurt. “Now beam me back down before I have another attack.”

“Sheppard, are you going with him?” Caldwell asked.

Sheppard shrugged. “One more bite and it‘s your turn.”

“I‘ll try to clear my schedule.” Caldwell tapped his comm. “Novak, put Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard back in their hotel room, please.”

The bed looked like heaven, and Rodney pulled the covers completely over his head after putting his glasses aside. “Don‘t talk to me.”

“Don‘t forget to empty your balls.”

Rodney screwed up his eyes, thrilled when he heard the door shut. The only good news was that he hadn‘t blacked out. He was getting better. The rest of it could wait until he‘d slept.

*********

the next morning

Bacon. That was bacon, and he went for it before thinking that facing Sheppard was on a list of things to never do again. Half a piece was tucked in his cheek before he remembered something else. “You said you‘d hit me!”

“I lied,” Sheppard deadpanned. He was picking at the bandage on his arm. “Okay, it wasn‘t a lie. I decided I couldn‘t let you trash the place. Expensive, ya know?”

“Very self-sacrificing of yourself.” Rodney rolled his eyes. He kept alternating between blushing and groaning over the food.

Sheppard suddenly smirked. “You take care of your boys?”

Rodney swallowed instead of spitting food across the room. “You! Shut up!” He was not discussing that, not ever, not with anyone, not since his mom had caught him in the tub and told him to never touch his ‘boys‘ again.

“No, huh. Well, doctor‘s orders. You gotta.” Sheppard‘s smirk morphed into a huge grin. He pointed at the water. “Drink up.”

Confusion warred with shame and Rodney blurted, “How can you sit there so calmly when I keep molesting you?”

“Do you think you could stop biting me?” Sheppard snatched a piece of bacon. “Amazing what they can do with turkey.”

“Don‘t spoil the love.” Rodney protected the rest by shoving it in his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of wonderful coffee. He wasn‘t sure he wanted to answer the biting question. It wasn‘t something he could control after all. “You okay?”

“Little sore, but yeah.” Sheppard checked his watch. “We have plenty of time for you to take care of business.”

“And you have an unhealthy fascination with my green come,” Rodney growled. He ate some eggs and considered it, against his will. “You think I should?” Not that he couldn‘t; he just preferred not to, usually.

“It might help you not freak out,” Sheppard drawled. “Flush your system.”

Rodney had to move, get some fresh air, pretend there wasn‘t a ceiling. He threw open the balcony door and stepped out to lean way over. Heights were bad, but right now, ceilings were worse. Sheppard‘s hand pulled him back.

“Don‘t scare me.”

The hand felt good, even though it was tight, but he didn‘t let go of the rail. It was hot, dry, and he breathed deep. “I don‘t want to go back on the Daedalus, not sick.”

“Maybe you could catch the next bus,” Sheppard said softly. “You would, wouldn‘t you?”

“If you don‘t hate me for humping you, biting you, squeezing you, knocking you into-”

“Stop! Please!” Sheppard gave him a small shake. “The Woolsey thing you owe me for, but the rest … forget it. I‘m going to try to, except maybe for yesterday.”

There were many types of genius, and Rodney, being a prodigal himself, had met more than a few. One of the most unusual had been a scent genius, and he‘d made good money, which should‘ve been impossible, but apparently smelling was in demand in some industries. Rodney had always counted himself lucky to be genius level in two areas, and sure there was that one guy who had three P.H.D‘s at Stargate Command, but one of them was in Astronomy, and that was so easy even Sheppard could‘ve done it. Also, Rodney‘s four master‘s degrees should count for something. None of that, or any of the other, made the conclusion he‘d begun to draw any more logical, reasonable, sensible.

“Are you breathing?”

Waving his hand, Rodney let some air squeak into his lungs. “That first time! You were mad! At me!”

“I was confused, mostly, and then I thought maybe I‘d screwed up, and then General O‘Neill told me I was off the hook for gay-bashing you.”

“Now you stop!” Rodney said loudly. “You were mad as hell when I saw you on the Daedalus.”

Sheppard ducked his head, turned him loose, and stepped away. “I wanted to speak to you privately. Apologize, and find out what the hell was going on, but Caldwell refused to let me.”

“I made it worse.” Rodney hung his head. “I really thought … I did. I didn‘t lie. I still remember it like a kiss.” He laughed but it was a painful sound when it emerged. “I even liked it.”

“You nearly ate my face.” Sheppard stepped behind and to the side, and there was a moment where Rodney thought they might press together, but a bare inch remained. “I reacted. I didn‘t think. Ronon beat the hell out of me for incorrectly assessing the enemy.”

“He said that?”

“That‘s how angry he was.” Sheppard eased his hand over Rodney‘s hand, and they clutched the rail together. “I didn‘t even think he liked you.”

“Well, not sure he does, but you made us a team. I apologized to him.”

Sheppard looked at him in sheer surprise. “For what?”

“Running him over. I scared the hell out of him. Believe me, that? Is something you never want to do to Ronon.” Rodney flexed his fingers up and trapped Sheppard‘s, holding him tight. Wanting him was so easy, like falling off a bike or building a nuke. “Sorry?”

“Rodney, you should have trusted us to come get you,” Sheppard scolded.

Rodney leaned into him. “Like you could‘ve found me. I couldn‘t wait. The plan was ridiculous.” He waited to be pushed away, maybe down, and a kick added for fun. Sheppard put his arm around him. “You kicked me,” he muttered, over everything but that and not caring that he might wear glasses forever.

Sheppard‘s grip tightened, and Rodney found himself turned and pulled. Their chests were tight together, and Rodney was sure he stopped breathing. Sheppard‘s eyes were dark, fierce. “You had grabbed my leg and were trying to drag me down to the floor. Probably so you could hump me. I sorta panicked.”

“If I never hear the word ‘hump‘ again, it‘ll be too soon.” Rodney lay his forehead on Sheppard‘s shoulder. “You‘re sorry, right?”

“Right.” Sheppard nuzzled him. “And Caldwell doesn‘t know everything.”

“I‘ll tell him his gaydar needs checked.” Rodney grinned against Sheppard‘s shirt. “I could volunteer to fix it.”

“You like me kicking your ass, don‘t you?” Sheppard tilted Rodney‘s head – Rodney didn‘t protest – and latched onto him. Squirming, Rodney tried not to run, but it hurt, and it felt good, and tingles broke out all over his body. He gasped several curse words that Sheppard ignored, finally pulling off him. “My mark,” he gloated in a very unattractive way.

“I didn‘t need one!” Rodney felt weak in the knees, clutching him to stay upright. “Oh God, you read my list.”

“That took you a while.” Sheppard laughed softly and kissed him on the side of the head. “Stupid list. You should‘ve asked.”

Rodney was tired of feeling like an idiot, so he moved away enough to tug down Sheppard‘s T-shirt. The bites were ugly, looking halfway infected. “Where‘s that cream? You‘re not putting it on, are you?”

“Uh.”

“Moron.” Rodney smacked the back of Sheppard‘s head. “Go get it.” He nudged him back inside and shut the door. The cool air felt good, and he ate a biscuit while Sheppard went to get the cream. More coffee followed the biscuit, and it gave him a chance to think. He decided to skip it. All his thinking had made the situation worse, and he‘d had a very nice ten minutes, and he didn‘t want to ruin it. Abruptly, his vision doubled, and that drove him to his glasses.

“We should take a shower first,” Sheppard said, locking the door behind him.

Rodney fumbled the glasses, nearly dropped them, and turned bright red as he struggled to find his nose and ears. “We?”

“I could wait out here, thinking about you stroking-”

“Sheppard!” Rodney interrupted. His neck still hurt – in what he‘d admit was a good way – but he wasn‘t sure that meant they should shower together. That was more personal than most of the sexual encounters he had. Okay, all of them, and he groaned. “I can‘t be trusted. I might bite you again.”

Sheppard pulled something long and black out of his pocket. “I have a solution.”

It was a gag. Rodney stared in horror. “Or you could go back to your room and let me foam at the mouth in private!”

“I could. Your choice.” Sheppard shrugged and licked his lower lip, which was completely unfair. Rodney wanted to curse at him, throw him out, but the anger quickly faded, replaced by a sense of near desperation. Speech failed, but he waved his hand in a movement that he knew Sheppard would take as an affirmative and fled to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, he tried to breathe deep, but he could already feel the pressure building, and while he knew, intellectually, that it was less than usual, it still made him moan with dread. Sheppard tilted Rodney‘s face up with no resistance, stripped off his glasses, and said, “Hang in there, buddy.”

“So tired of it.” He lunged to his feet, but Sheppard used his body weight to shove him back. Rodney tore at Sheppard‘s jeans. “Smell so mrf.” He gagged before he got used to it, and Sheppard grabbed him by the wrists before he could tear the damn thing down.

“Grab that bar! Do it!”

Howling behind the gag because all he wanted to do was grind against him, he took a good grip and held on while Sheppard stripped the scrubs off him. His cock liked the cool air, and he managed a quick rub on Sheppard‘s jeans.

“Wait a second.”

Rodney growled and tackled him against the sink. Grinding, gasping through cloth, he dimly heard Sheppard yelling at him, but it meant nothing. It built between one moment and the next, and he came all over Sheppard‘s black T-shirt. He rubbed his face into Sheppard‘s shoulder, wanting to bite the hell out of him. He would‘ve if it hadn‘t been for the gag.

“Okay. That was gross.” Sheppard pushed him away. “Sit down while I get undressed.”

“Ug.” Rodney squeezed out the last bit of come, trying not to notice the color, and sagged against the cool wall. Now he held onto the bar so he didn‘t fall down. Sheppard stripped very quickly and turned on the water. Rodney didn‘t protest when he was pulled inside.

“Can I take the gag off?”

Rodney really didn‘t think that was a good idea, but he liked that Sheppard asked. It meant that he wasn‘t getting off on it. Shaking his head, Rodney sat on the recessed seat, letting the water sluice over him. He was going to shut his eyes, but Sheppard‘s naked butt was right there, and his eyelids refused to cooperate.

“You want to bite my ass, don‘t you?”

For an answer, Rodney reached out and gripped it firmly, smiling at the protest. Sheppard swatted Rodney‘s hand, but that didn‘t stop him from grabbing the other cheek. “Ummm.”

“Stand up, and I‘ll wash you,” Sheppard said, brandishing soap at him. “You smell like the inside of a Wraith ship.”

The soap and Sheppard‘s hands felt so good against Rodney‘s tight skin. There were parts that Rodney didn‘t want touched, but Sheppard persisted and didn‘t listen to grunted complaints. When Sheppard turned him and kissed him on the hickey it made him quiver.

“One more time,” Sheppard said, moving his hand down and getting a sturdy grip. “Lean on me. I‘d kiss you, but I like my tongue in one piece.”

Rolling his eyes, Rodney hesitated before crowding close and wrapping him so tightly. It had been a stupid list, and his life had pretty well sucked for months, but he was here now, and he was going to enjoy it. It might not last very long. Sheppard held them together by their cocks, rubbing up and down, and Rodney cried out behind his gag.

Sheppard made it all one smooth motion, rocking them up and down, and Rodney threw his head back to howl into his gag. Nothing had ever … he erupted violently, and that had never happened before, and he would‘ve fallen if Sheppard hadn‘t held him up. He choked a little on the sodden gag, grateful when Sheppard ripped it off.

“Let‘s get you to bed.” Sheppard washed them both off in record time and helped him stagger to the bed. He didn‘t feel himself hit the mattress.

**********

six hours later

“You‘re sure about the pinstripes?” Rodney wasn‘t sure about anything. He‘d slept and eaten, but he was still tired, and that was a good sign that he might not have an attack. “Are you going in a T-shirt?”

“I have a suit too.” Sheppard looked disgusted. “You‘ll look great, but come here before you put that shirt on.”

“Why?” Rodney backed away. It wasn‘t that he had a lack of trust, but he‘d been gagged earlier so he could be forgiven some skepticism.

“I still can‘t believed you not only obeyed Caldwell but said ‘yes, sir.‘” Sheppard rubbed his face.

Flipping his hands, Rodney felt obliged to explain. “His XO pulled me aside and explained that I‘d end up stuffed in an airlock if I didn‘t. I believed him.”

Sheppard widened his eyes. “That explains it. Well, it‘s a different work environment than Atlantis.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Rodney edged further away. “Also? I‘ve seen you obey Caldwell on occasion.”

“He outranks me.” Sheppard snorted and cornered him. “Hold still.”

Rodney quit running, but he had a complaint. “You don‘t trust me. Why should I trust you?”

“Because you do.” Sheppard nudged him around and touched him on the back. “Seriously, hold still.”

“Not fair,” Rodney griped. He shivered when Sheppard griped him firmly and tugged. It wasn‘t too long, and Sheppard tossed the tracking device on the bed. Rodney breathed a huge sigh of relief, rolling his shoulders. “Thanks.”

Shrugging, Sheppard smiled. “Now get dressed. I hear there are snacks.”

“Some day can we have sex without a gag?” Rodney flushed after he said it, but he was serious.

“Maybe. When my bites are healed.” Sheppard managed to look pouty. “I‘m going to go get dressed. Wait for me?”

“Maybe.” Rodney threw the word back at him. Sheppard left without glaring, and Rodney couldn‘t resist picking up the tracking device to give it a look. With a few quick snaps, he took it apart. It was an effective transmitter but lacked elegance. He could see that it was still sending a signal, and he wondered how fast the Daedalus would contact Sheppard if it stopped.

Setting it back down, he went to put on his pants and spotted Sheppard‘s headset on the dresser. Rodney stuck it in his ear and clicked it. “Colonel Caldwell?”

“This is Colonel Caldwell. How are you, Dr. McKay?”

“I‘m feeling okay.” Rodney genuinely liked Caldwell, even if it was a slight betrayal of Sheppard. “I wanted to ask if you‘d like to attend the ceremony?” He shifted on his feet, embarrassed.

“Unfortunately, my duties won‘t allow that, but it‘s an honor to be asked.”

Rodney felt the red creep up his neck. “Okay, then, if you can‘t.” He paused. “One other thing: can you inform General O‘Neill that I won‘t be returning on the Daedalus to Atlantis?”

“Rumor is that he‘ll be at the ceremony tonight. You can tell him yourself.”

“Oh, well, fine.” Rodney had no idea what to say next. “Thanks, McKay out.”

“Caldwell out.”

Slumping down on the bed, Rodney rubbed under his glasses. It was telling that he‘d never humped that colonel‘s leg. They were friends and colleagues however, and Sheppard would have to get over himself.

Putting the radio back where he got it, he finished dressing, going to the bathroom to try to tamp his hair down and put his tie on straight. He was glad he wasn‘t wearing a tux, just a nice suit, and he smoothed his tie nervously.

“Ready?”

“Not so much.” Rodney stalled by cleaning his glasses. He put his palms on the cool tile and leaned, doing nothing but breathing. He could do this – stay calm.

“Carson gave me something for you – take the edge off. Let me know if you need it.”

Rodney extended his hand and took it, grimacing at the taste of the tap water. He shook out his shoulders and walked out to fully face Sheppard. “If I have an attack, what‘s your plan?”

Sheppard stuck his hands in his pockets. “I have one. That‘s all you need to know.”

“I‘m so reassured since your plans often end in me screaming and running.” Rodney adjusted his collar again. “Can you see the hickey?”

“I put it low.” Sheppard smirked in a dirty way, and Rodney decided to put one on Sheppard‘s forehead later. “Daedalus, we‘re ready to beam up.”

“We can‘t just-” Rodney finished his sentence in the hanger bay. “Walk?” He stared in bewilderment at the gathering of crew, and then they started clapping, and he glared at Caldwell. “What is this all about?”

Caldwell waved his hand and silence fell. Rodney spotted his baby pilots, all with huge grins on their faces. This could be bad.

“We have our own award.” Caldwell pointed at Novak, who sidled forward and handed him a golden roll of toilet paper. “You have the entire crew‘s deepest thanks for your tireless work on our plumbing.”

Sheppard started hee-hawing like it was the funniest thing ever, and Rodney nearly brained him with it. It was surprisingly heavy.

“Thanks, Mac.” Lionel grinned and slapped him on the back. “The colonel didn‘t have to hold it even once on the way home.”

Everyone laughed as Rodney turned brighter red than he thought possible. “Well, I‘ve saved the galaxy again.”

“The guys on the Apollo are so jealous!” Lt. Samuels beamed at him. “Do something about the coffee, we‘ll be the happiest crew in the Milky Way!”

Caldwell grinned and shook Rodney‘s hand. “Now get out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” Rodney said without thinking, but he‘d have had to be blind to miss Sheppard‘s wince around the eyes. The transporter flashed down, and his next view was Sam and O‘Neill in a large empty room, looking like a couple, not that they were, but they looked like it.

“Don‘t even want to know,” O‘Neill said.

Rodney tossed the toilet paper to Sheppard, who stared at it in confusion. “Let‘s do this so I can go freak out somewhere.”

“Nice.” Carter rolled her eyes.

“I bet you can‘t wait to get back to the Wraith,” O‘Neill said to Sheppard.

Going to the door, Rodney left them behind to gossip and poke fun of him. He wanted a few snacks and to pretend that he wasn‘t full of Wraith enzyme. In all fairness, he was nearly well. He wasn‘t even blacking out any longer, which made him cringe that he‘d set the bar that low.

There were snacks, and he indulged, determinedly moving away from his keepers. He was surprised that anyone was polite to him, but apparently he‘d out of the game long enough that people had forgotten that he knew they were morons. Fortunately for them, he was tired and somewhat sedated, so he didn‘t make much of an effort to remind them. There were a few new faces, but it would be far more work than he was capable of tonight to let them know how idiotic they were.

“Sheppard says you‘re doing better,” O‘Neill said softly at Rodney‘s left shoulder. “Oh, and Woolsey‘s in therapy.”

“Ha. Ha.” Rodney thought he would need a ton of it when this was over. He glanced around the room, hoping they got started soon. “I‘m not going back,” he said, watching for a reaction.

“Didn‘t think you would now that you‘re thinking clearly.” O‘Neill shrugged. “The IOA isn‘t going to like it. If I were you, I‘d lay low.”

Rodney knew what that meant. He better not try to find employment elsewhere, or guys in a van would pick him up. Sheppard eased next to him and rubbed Rodney‘s shoulder. “You may change your mind.”

Before Rodney could knock that idea down, they were called to take their seats, and the award ceremony began. It was in Hebrew, translated into English, and he let the words flow over him. It wasn‘t long before he was accepting his scroll, and he gave a very short speech, thanking Carter and the Air Force and going to sit down before he explained that he‘d been incarcerated when he‘d done the work. Oh, and mostly high on Wraith enzyme. That was better off left unsaid.

Sheppard patted him on the knee and that meant something, but Rodney wasn‘t sure what, and he sat very still as the room moved in closer and closer while they handed out more prizes. Some part of him was gloating over this win, deserved of course, but a bigger portion of his brain was so very tired of being sick, exhausted. Reaching up, he adjusted his glasses and then slid a finger in his collar, pulling. The hickey gave a twinge, and he knew he didn‘t have much longer.

Leaning, he whispered in Sheppard‘s ear, “I have to get out of here.” He almost missed the subtle hand signal that Sheppard gave O‘Neill, and then they were leaving. The room they‘d used before was still empty, and Sheppard touched his head set, and they were away.

“No!” Rodney mindlessly attacked, but Sheppard bore him to the floor of the hospital in Cheyenne Mountain. They held him down, cutting the jacket and jabbing a needle into his arm. “I hate you! I hate you!”

“I know.” Sheppard stayed by Rodney‘s head, holding him close. “Almost done.”

Fighting was stupid, but he couldn‘t stop himself, surging up and down as they filled vial after vial with his blood. Sheppard yelled something, and everyone was suddenly gone. Rodney scrabbled up and launched himself, but the transporter took him away again.

There was no one with him when he materialized in what he assumed was another hotel room in a place where the Air Force wanted him to be. It was big, and that was a good thing, but he ripped off his jacket and tie, feeling as if the world was squashing him. His cock was rock hard, and all he wanted was Sheppard‘s leg to rut against. One leg would be enough.

Dropping down on the bed, he practically writhed from the lack. He took his glasses off and tossed them, not caring if they shattered. Shoving his hand in his mouth, he tried to muffle his screams. Anger, resentment, desire, and want so terrible they shouldn‘t be allowed to exist in any galaxy, universe, or temporal time zone.

“Jesus, Rodney.” Sheppard‘s voice shot through him, making him arch. Rodney yelled a few choice dirty words when his trousers were unzipped. His cock practically flew out, and Sheppard‘s hand was perfect, warm, strong. Everything. Grabbing, he cursed in frustration when Sheppard pushed him back flat on the bed.

“I still hate you!”

“Got it.” Sheppard‘s laugh was dirty. “Dr. Mason wants a sperm sample. Think you can help her out?”

Growling, Rodney shot come. He was pretty sure it hit the ceiling. Digging his hands into the bedcovers, he turned his head so he could bite the pillow. This time, damn it, he wasn‘t biting Sheppard. When his breath settled, he felt a hand skim over his face. He rutted into it.

“Sorry, Rodney,” Sheppard whispered. The weight of him made the bed dip, and Rodney shamelessly curled into him. Sheppard grabbed him around the neck and held him closer than was safe. Moving so he could gnaw on Sheppard‘s neck, gently, gently, Rodney still hated him. Sheppard kissed him on the head. “I do care, and I did before all this crap, but …”

Rodney pulled back enough to stare him in the eyes. “Shut up.”

“Thanks.” Sheppard kissed him.

A real kiss, not a bite, and Rodney sank into it, sucking Sheppard‘s tongue and worrying until he finally had to pull back, lips tingling. “Is this real? I‘m not assaulting you, am I?” He saw the amusement on Sheppard‘s face and considered punching him, lightly. “Okay, so I‘m a moron, but still! And you‘re sure you‘re into-”

This kiss was hard, almost brutal, and when he started to pant from lack of oxygen, he didn‘t care one bit. Somehow, he ended up naked, and Sheppard was too, and their skin practically sizzled when it was pushed together, defying all sorts of thermal laws.

The fact that he‘d come five minutes ago made no difference, and he tried very hard not to bruise any more of Sheppard‘s skin but it was all so good. A big hand slapped the back of his head, and he released the nipple that he was biting, sucking, chewing.

“Settle down! Or I‘m leaving!”

Grabbing him harder probably wasn‘t the best response, but Rodney panicked. “I‘m sorry,” he whispered, shame pushing through the lust. “I thought you wanted this, and then you didn‘t, and then you let me, and now I-” He had to stop. There was a hand across his mouth. Sheppard ground his hips down into Rodney‘s but left his hand where it was.

Sheppard – John – Sheppard‘s ass felt great and Rodney forced his hands to stay there instead of pinching other things. The hand on his mouth slid away, and he gasped up into a kiss that left him dizzy. The room spun, and he thought he might black out, but his focus narrowed until all he could feel, think, was John, John, John.

“I always wanted this,” Sheppard said softly. He was heavy now, and Rodney wasn‘t ever letting go.

Waking up alone was totally normal, but usually he had some clue as to where he was, and today he didn‘t. He was pretty sure he was still in the Milky Way galaxy. Other than that, he wasn‘t going out on a limb to guess. Stumbling, he managed to find the bathroom, and the shower was heaven. When his knees got wobbly, he sat down and let the water pour over him.

The door opening warned him enough not to jump.

“You okay?”

“You‘re still here?” Rodney heard the quiver in his voice. He was tired. Again. Always tired, and all he did was scream, bite people, and sleep.

Sheppard pushed the curtain back and shut off the water. “Not for much longer. The Daedalus is scheduled to leave in about eight hours.” He threw a towel on him. “I‘m going home, with or without you.”

“I‘m sure you‘d prefer without!” Rodney dried his face, hid his boys, who were totally in love with Sheppard, and stayed sitting down. He yanked the curtain shut and hid under the towel. He couldn‘t miss Sheppard‘s heavy sigh.

“Rodney, get a grip. If I‘m leaving, and I am, O‘Neill and Woolsey are on their way here to solidify your situation.”

“Oh, crap.” Rodney nearly fell to his death in his scramble to get out of the tub. “They‘ll stick me under the mountain!”

“They might. There‘s no way the IOA wants you loose.” Sheppard put another towel on top of Rodney‘s head. “You have to decide. Run away, or come home with me.”

Words failed him in the fear that gripped him.

“Good news is that you have plenty of money. That Wolf Prize was one sweet deal!” Sheppard smiled, but he didn‘t look enthusiastic. “I got cash.”

“Eight hours?” Rodney forced his brain to think. “Wait. Wait.” He took a very deep breath and felt like cobwebs were falling off his cerebellum. “John, I agreed to five months on the Daedalus for hurting you. I signed on the dotted line.”

“Everything has changed.” Sheppard frowned. “You were sick with the enzyme.”

That didn‘t make much difference, even though it should. “I gave my word, and while that doesn‘t mean much to some people, it does to me. I did attack you, and while it wasn‘t my fault, you put up with a lot of shit because of me. Green hair ring a bell?”

Sheppard‘s hand went to his hair, and it was probably a reflex born of fear. “You weren‘t to blame.”

“Well, yeah, I was. I made poor decisions. So did you, but that doesn‘t excuse mine.” Rodney wrapped the towel around his hips. “I‘ll probably go crazy, but Caldwell will have a plan.”

“It might involve his brig.” Sheppard‘s eyebrows were up. “Are you ready for that?”

“No.” Rodney‘s hands began to shake. He scrubbed his hair. “Do I have clothes? Toothpaste? Anything?”

“No, you have to go naked.” Sheppard rubbed his forehead and backed out of the bathroom. He tossed a couple of duffel bags inside and shut the door. Rodney hurried. He did. Whether or not he was going back on the Daedalus, he had to get a few things done. About the time, he was putting on his socks, Sheppard stuck his head around the door. “They‘re here.”

“Crap.” Rodney took the time to shave and brush his teeth. If he started having attacks, it might be a while before he did either again. Feeling somewhat human, he straightened his spine and went out to meet them. O‘Neill had his usual smirk on his face, but Woolsey had managed to get a chair in front of him. Rodney had to look at Sheppard, who seemed to be trying not to laugh.

“How ya feeling, McKay?” O‘Neill asked.

Rodney hovered between aggressive and cowed before abruptly getting angry. “I don‘t have to go!”

Woolsey‘s eyes bulged. “Dr. McKay, I understand your … frustration, but-”

“You do not!” Rodney flailed in that direction.

“A person could argue that McKay wasn‘t mentally sound when he agreed to the conditions set forth by the IOA,” O‘Neill said slowly.

“I told you it was a bunch of crap,” Sheppard growled.

“I think McKay has been confined more than enough.” O‘Neill looked at Woolsey. Rodney found that he was staring at Sheppard‘s clenched fists. He rubbed his eyes and tried to make up his mind. Stay or go. He‘d known what he wanted until he‘d seen Woolsey‘s face. Now it was all muddled again, and Sheppard smelled good enough that it was hard to think.

“If he was a danger to the ship before, he‘s still a risk,” Woolsey said. “There are many of us in the IOA that believe he should be placed in a hospital until such time as the enzyme is gone from his system.”

“No,” Sheppard said in a voice that Rodney rarely heard, and it always made him swallow hard to hear so much emotion in one simple word. Tapping his earpiece, Sheppard said firmly, “Colonel Caldwell, we could use your help down here.”

There was a long pause, and then Caldwell shimmered into place. Rodney had a brief thought that it was a good thing this was a big room. The fact that it wasn‘t near big enough hit two seconds later. He snapped his fingers three times to get everyone‘s attention. “I have something I have to take care of. You guys let me know what you figure out.”

They all looked stunned as he grabbed up a duffel and ran from the room. He fully expected Sheppard to pound after him as he made a beeline for the stairs. His heart beat far too fast, and fear he was going to have an attack nipped at his heels. The lobby was wide open, spacious, and he smelled the coffee before he saw it. There were also muffins, and he didn‘t waste any time getting both. A newspaper lay discarded on a nearby coffee table, and he picked it up.

He was in Colorado Springs. Not all that surprising, and it did explain the trees. Seven hours, give or take, until the Daedalus left, and he doubted he had enough time now, but he had to give it a try. If he weren‘t tired all the damn time, it would‘ve been easier to get a few things done besides sleeping and rubbing off on Sheppard. The thought made him quiver, and he finished his muffin in record time.

Rummaging through the duffel bag, he found a pile of money, a cell phone, and a radio headset. He would thank Sheppard later. It was time to get to work.

*********

six hours later

“Rodney, Woolsey is about ready to send black ops after you,” Sheppard drawled in Rodney‘s ear.

Rodney chuffed his annoyance and tapped his ear piece. “I‘d have been back sooner, but I had an attack. Now I‘m thinking I‘ll stay put.” He took a very long stretch and plunked down on his cot, waiting for an answer.

“Are you okay? Where the hell are you?” Sheppard snapped.

Laughing softly, Rodney indulged in a smirk. “On the Daedalus.” He popped out the radio and turned it off, but he‘d heard cursing on the other end.

Caldwell tucked his fists onto his hips. “You love to mess with him.”

“Yes, yes, I do.” Rodney grinned and leaned back against the wall. He surveyed his kingdom of 302′s and decided things could be worse. “Game of chess?”

“I have a lot to do but soon.” Caldwell smoothed his hand over his head. “You‘re sure you can do this?”

Nodding, Rodney yawned. “As long as I‘m in here.”

“Do not throw things at my 302′s.” Caldwell started for the door before his last word faded away. Rodney stretched again, flopped over, and shut his eyes. He‘d work on a dimmer switch for the lights later. Someone blocking out those lights roused him from his doze.

“You forgot your glasses,” Sheppard said, holding them.

“Thanks,” Rodney said with a yawn. He sat up enough to lean against the wall and fumble his glasses on his face. “Caldwell gave you access?”

“No, I jimmied the lock.” Sheppard rolled his eyes. He had leaned away, but he came back with a rush and his eyes were very dark. “Did you? With him?”

It felt like an eternity of stalled brain cells to figure out what Sheppard was talking about, and Rodney snapped his jaw shut before managing to string a sentence together. “I had them beam me to the infirmary.” He shouldn‘t be explaining himself, but Sheppard‘s eyes were scaring him. Raising his hand, he glared at the bandage on his bite. “Dr. Mason insisted on this. I think she hates me.”

Sheppard‘s throat moved like he wanted to talk but nothing came out, and Rodney was sure he should say something else. “I didn‘t- I mean-” He went ahead and told him. “If you‘re not around, that, um, doesn‘t-” He quit trying, seeing the flare of comprehension on Sheppard‘s face.

“Really?” Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck. “That‘s really …”

“Disturbing?” Rodney went with the obvious. It disturbed him to know he was totally hung up – even on a glandular level – on a skinny colonel in the Air Force.

“Yeah.” Sheppard stepped away, far away. “I need to get settled in my cabin.”

There wasn‘t much to say to that. The door opened, and the noise from the pilots who stepped through dropped off dramatically.

“Hey, Mac, you doing okay?”

Rodney couldn‘t help but notice they were circling Sheppard but not meeting his eyes. “I‘m good. Well, not bad. Still sorta sick, but better.”

“When we get to Atlantis, we‘ll take you on another flight.” They laughed, and someone clapped him on the back, and there was a twitch in Sheppard‘s jaw that meant he wasn‘t happy.

“This time I get to drive,” Rodney said, trying to growl but seeing he‘d failed by their grins.

Sheppard touched his ear piece. “On my way,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving without another word or a look back.

Lt. Samuels watched him go with narrowed eyes but said nothing until the door shut. “Rumor says he wasn‘t to blame. That true?”

The situation was so complicated that Rodney floundered for an explanation. “I was high on the enzyme. I attacked him. He defended himself.” He swallowed hard. “Not his fault.”

They all exchanged glances. “But he didn‘t try to help you.”

“He didn‘t get it. Hell, neither did I.” Rodney tried for a smile. “You guys bring food?”

Now there was real laughter as each of them dug out a power bar for him. He gloated while putting them under his pillow. “Okay, now what did you goofballs break while I was gone?”

They had a list.

********

day two on the Daedalus

“Moving your knight won‘t save you.” Rodney crossed his arms and smirked in his most irritating fashion.

“That‘s what you think.” Caldwell returned that smirk with an extra twist. Rodney surveyed the board, factored in the impossible, and tipped over his king. He couldn‘t miss seeing Caldwell‘s grin of victory. It was very annoying. Caldwell leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Mason wants you in the infirmary later.”

“Later today? Or say in two weeks?” Rodney reset the board. He‘d bought it for this trip, figuring Atlantis could always use another set. His little corner of the 302 bay was more comfortable than it had been. Small table, chairs, privacy screen, and a chest with his stuff in it made up the whole of it, but he was going home, and for a brig; it was a big one. “Later is now, huh?”

“Yes.” But Caldwell didn‘t get up. He toyed with the king; his eyes meeting Rodney‘s and sliding away. “He has access.”

“I know.” Rodney couldn‘t go traipsing through the ship after him, and Sheppard had failed to come slouching through the door. “He probably needed a vacation from me.”

“And all that biting.” Caldwell touched his ear piece. “I need two SO‘s to escort Dr. McKay to the infirmary.” He eased to his feet, placing the king back in its square. Looking up, his eyes were bright. “Are you sure?”

There was no reason to pretend that he didn‘t understand the question was about Sheppard. Rodney had to look away. “No, but yes?”

“Well, as long as you‘re sure.” Caldwell laughed without much mirth in his voice. Rodney rubbed his eyes, acknowledging that he wasn‘t sure about anything. They went together to the door. Caldwell opened it with his card, and the SO‘s were on the other side. “Doctor.”

“Colonel.” Rodney waited until Caldwell was around the corner. “Coffee first?”

His guards rolled their eyes, and he interpreted that as a yes. He took his time getting a cup, making sure the state-of-the-art coffee maker was purring away happily and then pouring himself a big one. Caldwell had made a lot of noise about it being non-regulation, but Rodney hadn‘t listened. Getting him some decent coffee was little enough reward for all that Rodney owed him.

“Oh, admit it. You love me for buying it.”

They tried not to smile, and he left them a shred of dignity by marching towards the infirmary. Dr. Mason waved him to a gurney, and he knew the routine. It wasn‘t any reason to put his coffee down. The last thing she did was smear some cream on the bite on his hand, and that made him think.

“Have you checked Sheppard‘s bites? He‘s terrible about putting medicine on, and I‘m not sure he can reach the one on his shoulder, and … oh, I‘ll shut up now.” He sipped his coffee to cover that he wouldn‘t mind talking about Sheppard for a few hours, and he missed Carson. “I‘m not so tired today.” And he wasn‘t, and he‘d forgotten how good it felt not to be exhausted. On the walk back to his fighter bay, he swung by Novak‘s station just to let her know that he was watching and give her a chance to ask him to do the odd job. She didn‘t, but it was only a matter of time from the look on her face.

Back on his cot, he booted up his laptop and finished his coffee. All in all, his life had been worse. Of course he had an attack within the hour. The universe was like that.

**********

day eighteen on the Daedalus

“There you are, Rodney.” Carson beamed a big smile at him. “I missed you.”

“Why do I doubt that?” Rodney crossed his arms and lifted his chin, waving his security team away. “No, you may not have blood. I have none left for the vampire of Atlantis. I‘m well. Completely, and as soon as you sign off on it, I‘ll go to my lab where I will stay happily until further notice.”

Carson‘s smile got bigger. “Aye, I‘m glad you‘re back.” He looked Rodney up and down, stepping close. “Get into some scrubs, and we‘ll get to work.”

“No! Damn it, Carson!”

“That‘s an order, McKay,” Sheppard growled from behind him, and Rodney spun around to face him. He looked borderline exhausted, and that shouldn‘t have been possible. His eyes took on a shine that made him look slightly insane.

Rodney gulped, unsure what to say or do. “Yes, sir?”

“Weir wants a de-brief as soon as you‘re finished, Carson. Bring McKay with you.”

“Aye.”

Carson handed Rodney some scrubs, which he wanted to throw down and stomp on, but a slight hesitation before Sheppard turned away made him think now wasn‘t a good time.

“Did you bite him again?”

“No!” Rodney threw the scrubs on the gurney. “I haven‘t even seen him since the first day on the Daedalus.” He caught the amazement on Carson‘s face. “I embarrassed him in front of General O‘Neill. He might possibly be angry!”

“Go.” Carson waved in the direction of the changing room. Rodney groaned in protest but went. He was so close that he could almost smell his lab, and if he threw a fit, he might end up in the brig. Sheppard looked pushed to the edge, and how a cushy ride in the Daedalus could do that was beyond Rodney‘s ability to understand.

“Carson, do we have to do this?” Rodney whined intentionally.

“Dr. Weir insisted.” Carson put him on the scanner first. “If you behave, I won‘t keep you in isolation as long as she recommends.”

“Which is?” Rodney wasn‘t going to be sucked in without knowing his reward.

“A week. Now hush and let me work.”

Rodney knew his jaw was flapping in the wind. He choked out a squeak of protest, and then saw from Carson‘s face that it wasn‘t a joke. “I – what?”

Carson didn‘t answer, and there was blood and tests, and Rodney ground his teeth in frustration. If he started cursing and yelling, they might think he was having an attack and send Ronon to stun him. The hours passed so slowly that he seriously considered hanging himself with the tubing from the IV that Carson stuck in him for no reason whatsoever.

Teyla came to see him first, and he tried to act as if he were perfectly fine, instead of wanting to murder someone. She had a fruit cup with her, and that helped, but he could see that she wasn‘t fooled.

“Be patient, Rodney. If you are cured, you will be back to work soon enough.”

He waved the spoon at her, changing the subject before he cursed. “Did Caldwell deliver all the stuff I bought?”

She tilted her head. “I am uncertain. Should I check?”

“Please?” He listened to her ask Caldwell on the headset. When she clicked off, he demanded, “Well?”

“It was all taken to your room.” She smiled. “Except Ronon‘s pizza.” And she laughed, getting to her feet. “I will make sure you get some.”

“Hurry!” Rodney shouted after her. He wasn‘t really worried as he‘d bought a double order, but cold pizza wasn‘t as good.

Zelenka was next, and his hair made Rodney stare in amazement. “Fix this, or I will kill them all.”

Rodney tried not to snatch the tablet, but he might‘ve left marks on Zelenka‘s hand. “Get video if you do.”

Huffing and waving his arms, Zelenka launched into an explanation that Rodney didn‘t listen to whatsoever. The problem was an interesting one in the sense that despite the radiation risk, no one had died yet. They might not be as fertile as they had formerly been but none of them were. He glanced up at Zelenka.

“Are you still here? Go to my room and get the black laptop mixed in with other supplies I brought home. I worked on that problem we were having with the cloak.”

Zelenka blinked.

“I stole the laptop from Novak. No, I don‘t feel guilty. They sent me to Earth practically naked. Go. Oh, touch anything else, and I will bite you.” Rodney didn‘t watch him leave.

Carson interrupted him before he could get too far. “Rodney, when was your last attack?”

Rodney thought long and hard about lying. It had its advantages, and no one had seen it, and it‘d been quick, and-

“Don‘t lie.”

“Fine. Three days ago. In the evening.”

“Have you, um-” Carson waved in the direction of Rodney‘s groin. Rodney glared, refusing to answer that invasive question. Carson turned red. “Could I have a -”

“No!” Rodney wasn‘t doing that, not now, not ever. He focused his attention back on the tablet, and he wasn‘t even going to look up, but he sensed when Carson stepped closer. “Absolutely not!”

“I‘ll leave the cup here,” Carson whispered. “Any time is good.”

Brushing it to the floor was the act of a child, and Rodney wasn‘t sure it would deter Carson, but it was a start. There were some things he wasn‘t going to do willingly. Hunkering down, he concentrated on re-configuring and muttering about morons.

About the time he was done with the inital reconfiguration, Sheppard planted himself at the end of the bed. “Why aren‘t you cooperating? Don‘t you want to get out of here?” He slapped a sample container down on the tablet. “Go put your boys to work!”

“No!” Rodney threw it back at him. “I‘m fine! Just leave me alone, something you have plenty of practice at!”

Sheppard‘s eyes widened and then narrowed. He hissed, “Excuse me if I didn‘t feel like stepping over Caldwell to get to you!”

“Wimp,” Rodney muttered. He raised the tablet high and lowered his head. “Hey! Give that back!”

“No.” Sheppard tossed it on an adjacent bed, which was a flagrant violation of several policies that Rodney had instituted himself on the care of tablets. “Bathroom. Move it.”

Blood rushed from Rodney‘s brain to his nether regions, and he was very afraid that Sheppard had noticed. “No,” he choked. He hated what he was going to say, but he said it anyway. “You walked away. I know you. You‘d never do that if it – we – meant anything.” He felt like someone was squeezing his heart. He‘d had plenty of time, sitting on his cot, to figure out why Sheppard wasn‘t visiting him. Deciding that he‘d been stupid to think Sheppard would care about him came remarkably easy. Evidence always outweighed words said after or before orgasms.

“They call you, ‘Mac!‘ And you smiled! Tell me, did you get your ride in a 302 yet?” Sheppard sounded more than furious, and Rodney tried not to shrink away from the crazy man.

“Colonel, is there a problem?”

Rodney had never been happier to see Dr. Weir. She frowned at them both. “Rodney, if you won‘t cooperate with Dr. Beckett, I might let Colonel Sheppard put you in the brig where he thinks you belong.”

Her words drove any gratitude right out of him. He stared in shock, betrayal, at Sheppard. “You think that?”

“All I said was-”

“No one is putting Rodney in the brig tonight. Let‘s be clear about that!” Carson interrupted, putting himself between the bed and Weir. “Both of you. Out now. No arguments.”

Hiding under the blankets seemed like a fine idea but someone had tucked them too tight at the base of the bed. Rodney refused to look as they were bullied out the door by Carson. Curling to his side, he waited for Carson to yell at him.

“Rodney.” Carson pushed a stool close to the bed and sat down. “I know everything these last months has been confusing, but I think we‘re at the finish line. A few tests, and you‘ll be cleared for duty.”

“Not entirely sure I was right to come back here.”

Carson rubbed his forehead. “Let‘s focus on the positive. You feel better. You look better, and all the tests so far are good.”

“But I can‘t go,” Rodney grumbled.

Once again, Carson presented him with a small container. “Do this for yourself. It‘s not like I don‘t examine your-”

“We said we‘d never discuss that!” Rodney grabbed the container and suspected that he‘d lost this round. “I‘ll try.” He wasn‘t going to promise. “I‘m no good under pressure.”

“Leave it on the sink and spare yourself having to hand it to someone.” Carson crossed his arms, not getting up. “How‘s the claustrophobia?”

“Pretty good.” Rodney didn‘t have to lie about that. It had gotten better over the course of the trip. “I‘m well.”

“Aye. It looks that way. Bitten anyone lately?”

Rodney glared, and he put a lot of anger into it. “Am I staying here tonight?”

Carson eased up and stretched. “You are.” He gestured at all the monitors. “It‘d take forever to unplug you anyway, and dinner is on the way.”

“How‘s the patient?”

Carson bolted up as Caldwell slinked over to them. Rodney rolled his eyes at the slinkiness. Caldwell did it to get dates; that was certain. He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were well?”

“I am!”

“Dr. Weir isn‘t inclined to take chances with Wraith enzyme.” Carson smoothed his hands down his lab coat. “I‘ll be back later.” He hurried away.

“You have a way of clearing a room,” Rodney said, flashing him a quick grin. “It impresses me.”

Caldwell laughed. He commandeered the stool that Carson had vacated. “I know my opinion isn‘t wanted around here, but I think you‘re better.”

“Since you didn‘t notice I was sick, not sure they‘re going to listen to you,” Rodney said with real bite, knowing that Caldwell could take it.

“Everyone on board thought you had PTSD. Your cabin isn‘t exactly soundproof.” Caldwell bit right back at him. “When Novak informed me of Dr. Beckett‘s odd request for the security video of your cabin, I nearly denied him out of hand.”

“But?” Now Rodney was curious.

“On the first trip, when you were hurt, Sheppard sent me an email right before we jumped into hyperspace.” Caldwell‘s voice was low now. “He asked me to look out for you. He was worried you‘d get sick. It stuck in my head.”

Rodney was speechless, and then he drew ten conclusions at once. “So you really didn‘t like me. You were doing a favor for Sheppard.” He hated that it hurt. “Isn‘t that just typical?” It also didn‘t make any sense with all the jealousy he‘d seen in Sheppard‘s eyes, but he‘d been wrong about so many things that related to people this was probably one more on a long list.

Caldwell pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don‘t do favors for Col. Sheppard,” he growled. He got to his feet and turned away. Rodney could tell that the conversation was over, and he had a feeling he‘d screwed it up. Caldwell glanced back. “When you‘re finished being an ass, let me know.”

At that instant, Sheppard barreled into sight again, and Rodney had had enough. Gripping the sample container tightly and dragging his IV pole, he went to the restroom. It might take a week or two, but he‘d make his donation to science, and he‘d be damned if he‘d think about tight-assed colonels while he did it.

*********

the next morning

Carson swallowed hard when Sheppard joined them in the transporter. Rodney saw it, and he wasn‘t going to ask what Carson was worried about. Sheppard took a half-step closer, and Rodney had the sudden urge to shove him away. It wouldn‘t do any good because they were all on their way to the same conference room, but it‘d make him feel better.

“You smell anything, Carson?” Sheppard asked.

Rodney sniffed the air right before Carson touched the circle that would take them to the gateroom. Sheppard raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Carson asked with a confused look on his face.

“The colonel is trying to be subtle.” Rodney hurried away from them, towards the conference room. Yes, he could still smell him, but there wasn‘t an urgency there any longer. The desperate need was gone, and he wasn‘t going to miss it. Not much. It wasn‘t as if he could do anything about it.

Weir gave him that surprised cautious look that she‘d cultivated since they‘d arrived on Atlantis, and he sat down quickly. Sheppard smirked his way through the door not long after with Carson right behind. Teyla was already there, and Ronon came in with his hand on his gun. Rodney noticed that Ronon had a clear shot at him.

Rodney made sure to catch Caldwell‘s eyes and nod. It was enough of an apology, and Caldwell flicked him a smirk of forgiveness before leaning and whispering to Weir.

She touched her ear piece. “Dr. Zelenka, are you on your way?”

The answer was inaudible, and Rodney regretted not stopping for coffee. “Let‘s get this over with. Can I go back to work, or am I shipping out on the Daedalus?”

No one said a word, and several of them pointedly looked away. Zelenka picked that moment to come rushing through the door, grabbing the seat next to Rodney and shoving a tablet at him. Czech curses were all that came out of his mouth until he abruptly switched to English. “Sorry I am late.”

Rodney took one look and found himself on his feet. “Bad. This is bad.”

“I have already-”

“But did you-”

“Yes!”

“And nothing?” Rodney snatched the tablet and starting working. “Dr. Weir, I have to go. Tell me what decide.”

“Wait!”

“There is no time!” Zelenka waved his arms.

“Ronon,” Sheppard said.

Running probably set a bad example of how to behave in a crisis, but he had to catch Zelenka. Ronon pounded behind them, gun ready.

“I had protocols in place!” Rodney yelled.

“They have failed!”

“Crap.” Rodney put on the brakes. “Ronon, keep everyone out! If the blast doors come down, run.” He shut the inner door and focused on not dying. Not dying would be a good thing. “You should‘ve gotten me earlier!”

“I thought it would work!”

“Moron!” Rodney attached the next input very carefully. “What if I wasn‘t here?”

“This pier would explode!” Zelenka handed him the correct tool. “Why does failsafe mean nothing in this galaxy?”

That was an interesting question, and Rodney would ponder on it after he didn‘t die. “Not there. Please, not there,” he whispered, trying to force the Ancient tech to ignore what the malfunctioning naqahdah generator was telling it to do. “It‘s a piece of crap. Nothing to see here.”

“We must-”

“You‘re right.” Rodney grabbed Zelenka‘s earpiece and flicked it to Caldwell‘s priority channel. “Colonel, we have to beam this generator into high orbit. Very high. Actually, beam it as far away as possible. I‘m going to put Radek‘s radio on top.”

“Understood. When?”

“Now, or you can forget playing chess with me in the future.” Rodney put the headset on top of the generator right as Zelenka finished removing all the leads.

“We should-”

“Run!” Rodney initiated the blast door behind him and nearly fell over Sheppard. “What the hell? Run!”

Later, if they weren‘t dead, Rodney was going to tease Ronon about how Zelenka had beat him to the end of the corridor. Sheppard slowed for an instant, grabbing Rodney by the shoulder. “Why the hell are we running?”

Rodney put both hands on Sheppard‘s back and shoved him around the corner. Then the shock wave knocked them all down.

*********

unknown amount of time later

His head felt like someone had taken one of Teyla‘s sticks and hit him smartly. “John?”

“Over here,” Sheppard said, and Rodney tried to look that direction. His eyes weren‘t cooperating all that well. Sheppard waved but didn‘t sit up. “Zelenka‘s still out.”

“Little guy can run,” Ronon said with a grunt.

“What happened?” Rodney wasn‘t asking them. He clicked his fingers several times. “Carson! Get me a radio!”

“No, you daft bugger.” Carson shone his penlight across Rodney‘s eyes. “Your glasses are in six pieces.”

“I have an extra pair somewhere in my quarters.” He wasn‘t sure where. “Damn it, how I am supposed to find out how much damage there is if Zelenka gets blown up too?”

“The age-old question.” Sheppard sounded tired. “Remind me why I like this job again.”

“Get to shoot big guns.” Ronon‘s voice came from further away. “See you later, doc.”

“Get back here, young man!”

Rodney laughed softly as Carson chased after Ronon. Sheppard groaned out some laughter. “I was never that young.”

“Me neither.” Rodney levered himself up to sitting. Atlantis spun around twice, doubled, and finally settled. “What did you decide?”

Sheppard didn‘t sit up. “Security guards for another week, maybe two.”

“I get to stay here?” Rodney hadn‘t wanted to get his hopes up. Woolsey had to be angry about the whole leg thing. Relief and joy that he‘d never admit to surged through him and gave him strength.

“Colonel Caldwell can find another chess partner,” Sheppard growled.

“I‘ll have to tell the guys goodbye.” Rodney held on to the bed and attempted to get his feet on the floor. Success came easier than he‘d thought it would, and he straightened up. “Are you going to lie there all day?”

“Might.” Sheppard sighed heavily and struggled up. “No 302 joy rides.”

“You‘re just jealous.” Rodney thought he heard Carson coming and hurried for the far door. He wasn‘t walking steady, and he was pathetically grateful when Sheppard caught up so they could lean on each other. The touch steadied his legs and his heart, and he found enough courage to ask, “When I was in that lab, did you ever come see me?”

Sheppard gave him a funny look. “I had the feed piped into my office.”

“You never go in there.” Rodney held on to him and breathed. “You still smell good.”

“No, you may not bite me, and Elizabeth was very impressed with all the paperwork I caught up on when I wasn‘t running to the lab to help Carson!” Sheppard initialized the transporter. “When Carson catches us, we‘re dead.”

“Keep moving.” Rodney didn‘t know what to say to the other stuff. He‘d thought he was alone, and he‘d been wrong. He‘d been wrong about a lot of things, but he‘d been right about one major point. “I could really like you.”

There was a pause when Sheppard opened Rodney‘s door and they stumbled through it. The bed looked great, and Rodney practically fell on it. Sheppard sat down heavily; his hip near Rodney‘s chest.

“I could like you too.” Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck and a half-smile teased about his lips. “That‘s why I didn‘t see you on the Daedalus. Didn‘t want to tempt us.”

“Stupid man,” Rodny grumbled. He half-heartedly smacked him on the leg, leaving his hand there to rub. “I thought you hated me again.”

“No, you didn‘t. You were just mad, which for you is normal.” Sheppard leaned, and Rodney kissed him.

“You wanted me in the brig!” Rodney protested, trying to remember why he was angry.

“I did not! Weir exaggerated. I swear.” Sheppard looked him up and down. “This first.”

Strong hands helped him out of his shirt, and Rodney tried to return the favor but lips and teeth were hooked to the sensitive skin right above Rodney‘s right nipple. No amount of protests and pushing removed him. It was torture. It was hell. It hurt!

“There. I feel so much better.” Sheppard‘s eyes were very dark. “Breathe, Rodney.”

“Ouch!” Rodney started panting instantly. He could feel it moving through him. “You should leave. Now.”

Sheppard drew back. “Another one?” He grabbed Rodney‘s hands. “I give you attacks!”

“Maybe! Yes! Please leave,” Rodney begged. He was sane enough not to want to embarrass himself on Sheppard‘s body. “No, don‘t do that.” His hips – his entire body – arched up to meet Sheppard‘s lips. He needed that touch. “Can I bite you a little?”

Sheppard laughed and stripped off his shirt. “Gently. If I bleed, you‘re going back to Carson.”

“I‘ll be gentle.” He hoped that he could, and he made himself put off the biting part until they were naked. Urgency beat through him, and he wanted to take his time, make each second last forever, but he couldn‘t make himself slow down.

A big hand impacted the back of his head.

“Gentle!”

“You weren‘t!”

“That‘s different.” Sheppard smirked and kissed him hard. “You need to be marked.”

“I so do not! You do! You‘re the one with the wandering eye!” Rodney yowled after the last word because he had that tingling feeling that he always got right before he came. When he spiraled back down to Planet Sheppard, he could see that he was in trouble. “There isn‘t any blood!”

“Ow!” Sheppard bellowed in Rodney‘s face. “I‘m gagging you until Christmas!”

The thought that they‘d be doing this until Christmas made him spurt some more come on Sheppard‘s belly. Rodney licked the spot on the wonderful arm that he‘d bitten. “That means no blowjobs.”

Sheppard squeezed Rodney‘s asscheek hard. “I‘ll think of something else to do.” His eyes fluttered shut, and Rodney watched him pump until they were even stickier. The thought of lube and condoms made his brain spin on its axis, but he trusted Sheppard – John. He trusted John.

“You would‘ve come for me,” Rodney said softly, knowing it was true. “I didn‘t know that then.”

“Stupid man,” John huffed, sliding to the side and wrapping them close. “Sleep, and then we‘ll shower and do this again.”

“Hard to argue with that.” His eyes were already shut, and he had a lot to think about, but it could wait until the shower. Sleep was a good thing.

*********

sixteen hours later

“Tell me again why your room looks like a storage closet?”

“You got cash. I spent it,” Rodney mumbled around his toothbrush. Every muscle in his body was sore from being blown up, but he was going to have clean teeth, damn it. “Is Carson still mad?”

“Oh, yeah.” John buckled down his gun and pulled his knife. “I want to look in one.”

Rodney walked around the lot of them, searching until he found the box marked with a JS. “This one is yours,” he said and went to spit.

“What?” John protested at the same time that he opened it. He peeked inside, and Rodney tried not to watch but couldn‘t look away. “Guitar Hero?” His mouth flapped in the wind. “Four guitars?”

Laughter came easily, a shock, and Rodney said the words that would take him back to square one. “I need to make a list. I‘m calling this one, ‘Dirty Things I Hope John Does to Me.‘”

*********

the end