Stuck!

A/N: Bliss! Joy! Rapture! Julie! She is with me once more! I found her bloated with corn and wandering around the Corn Palace. It was a joyful reunion of tears and heartfelt embraces. Oh, my beautiful Julie! We are together! Never again shall we part! I barely managed to get her inside the Winnebago before the local authorities arrived. Of course, I was able to... ah... dissuade them from detaining us, but now we are on the run. On our drive, we have laughed, we have cried, there was milking and mooing. Never before have I felt happier, more fulfilled. Oh Julie, my life! The only thing that would make me my life more idyllic would be to receive more reviews from my readers. This was my first chance to pull the Winnebago off the interstate, refuel, empty mounds of manure, and visit yet the another of those profuse coffee restaurants. I have time to post just one chapter!

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Chapter Nineteen: Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

"Should we get a puddle jumper?" Zelenka asked from his spot on the floor leaning against the blast marred white wall. He sat with his head tilted back against the cool dampness with eyes closed. He kept his arms stretched straight across his bent knees allowing his wrists and hands to dangle over his feet.

Beckett sat beside the physicist curled forward with his forehead resting heavily against his crossed forearms. He merely grunted.

Ronon leaned against Teyla's bed and stared from the two very different types of doctors over to Sheppard.

Sheppard stood with ankles crossed leaning one shoulder against the support beam adjacent to the head of Rodney's bed. His black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest under his unzipped jacket. He regarded the sleeping physicist, his eyes looking at the blanket tugged up around the bare shoulders. Rodney's bare feet stuck out of the bottom, despite Carson's earlier attempt to cover the whole bed.

"Anyone bring shoes for, Rodney?" the colonel asked, not really caring one way or another at the moment. He scratched at the back of his neck as cooling sweat evaporated from his skin.

"Ah, no. His pink moccasins are still on my desk," Beckett muttered. Carson raised his head and squinted against the light and smiled. "I was thinking of having them bronzed."

"They weren't pink," McKay's disgusted grumble rolled peevishly from under his blanket. Sheppard grinned. Okay, so not quite asleep then.

Sheppard met Radek and Carson's eye, and his smile grew into a smirk as he addressed Rodney, "They weren't pink at all. More like a really faded maraschino cherry color."

"You're a laugh a second, Colonel," Rodney muttered, never opening his eyes. "Don't quit your day job," McKay growled and then shifted his position on the bed. He moaned, tensing slightly and then settled down. "Getting old is hell."

"It is unpleasant," Teyla confirmed. She turned. "I did not notice Dr. McKay's pink shoes—Did you get them from Kimon?"

"They were not pink," McKay reiterated, blue eyes opening to slits to stare balefully up at Sheppard.

"They were more like—růžový," Zelenka offered.

"What is...?." Teyla stumbled over the word fumbling with the strange contortions of the harsh pronunciation.

The room fell silent and Radek sighed, slightly disappointed that no one understood his slight joke but understanding why.

"Pink," McKay spat out irritably, still huddled under his blanket. He shifted a foot, pushing down the blanket to cover his bare feet.

"Didn't know you spoke Czech, McKay," Sheppard stated.

"I don't—Zelenka does," Rodney snapped annoyed that he had to point out the obvious, yet again.

Sheppard grinned, pleased to hear the arrogant fueled irritability back in McKay's tone.

Rodney sighed heavily and curled tighter into the blanket, highlighting his adult frame to the rest of the room. "Are we going to get a puddle jumper or not? And I need clothes—I can't…"

"How's the headache?" Sheppard interrupted McKay's diatribe. The colonel turned his attention to Beckett who had gently lowered his head back onto his folded arms.

"It's fine, but I have no clothes," McKay's voice traveled out from under the blanket. "I can't believe none of you thought to bring clothes, let alone shoes."

Beckett merely lifted a hand and waved it dismissively indicating he was fine.

Sheppard nodded and smirked, not believing it, but realizing there was not much that could done until they got back to Atlantis.

"We had other things on our minds, Rodney," Sheppard explained, smiling teasingly at Beckett and Zelenka while speaking to McKay, "like saving your ungrateful bare ass."

"I am most grateful," Teyla spoke quietly from the edge of her bed, rubbing gently at her forehead. She looked up and stared at the small group of people in the room, "to all of you."

"Aye, that's because you're a sweet lass," Beckett offered a dimpled smile to the Athosian who sat stoically with her back straight despite the lingering pain that was almost guaranteed to be thrumming through her body. Ronon stood on the other side of her bed, hovering without hovering, and offering an air of solid protection.

"You feel up for a walk, Radek, Teyla?" Sheppard pushed himself off from his support beam with a twist of his shoulders. He dropped his arms from across his chest and smiled knowingly at Radek and then Teyla, waiting for the verbal explosion from McKay. The scientist had closed his eyes again, his lips pressed in a thin-lipped expression of annoyance.

"It would be refreshing to be moving once again," Teyla smiled, flashing bright white teeth that contrasted brilliantly with the smooth, naturally dark complexion of her unmarred skin.

Zelenka grinned wearily and with a groan tiredly pushed himself to his feet. "It'd be good to get some exercise."

Radek offered a hand to Beckett and helped pull the medical doctor to his feet. Beckett's shoulders remained hunched and a hand automatically went to his forehead. Zelenka kept a steadying grip on Carson's upper arm, watching the doctor with some sympathy.

"Wait, wait, wait," Rodney bolted upright, his blanket slipping from his torso to his waist. He dropped his left hand to grab at the sliding blanket but instead found himself bending almost in half, holding his head as his features became deathly pale. "Ohhh, my head." He said it faintly, which, for him, was far more worrying than if he'd said it loudly.

"Rodney?" Beckett shook off Zelenka's arm and was moving toward the astrophysicist before he finished saying the name.

Beckett skirted around the bed to McKay's side. "Are you alright, lad?"

"No, I'm not alright," McKay snapped, breathing deeply. He sat up a little bit, lowering his hands from his face and looking at them. " I've been miniaturized and de-aged and now zapped back like some freakish science project from a bad 80's movie—so, no, I'm not alright." Rodney shot a withering glare at the CMO.

Carson let loose with a long-suffering sigh and rubbed tiredly at his own brow. He missed the wee one already.

"I don't hear Teyla complaining," Sheppard offered.

"That's because she has clothing," Rodney huffed, frustrated with the unfairness of it all.

All the men turned their attention to the Athosian, keeping their thoughts to themselves, though their expressions couldn't quite hide the fact that they too wished it was the other way around. Teyla returned their stares with a knowing smile, confident in her looks and her abilities as a warrior.

"Right," Beckett quietly muttered, immediately dropping his eyes to his boots.

"Um, not shoes," Sheppard coughed, covering some of his embarrassment at being caught with an active imagination.

Ronon stepped forward to speak but Teyla halted him, pressing a hand to his chest. "I can walk back to the gate without shoes. I am fine."

Sheppard smiled triumphantly at McKay.

"Well, how'd I get here without clothes and shoes?" Rodney asked in a plaintive voice. He was frowning—he meant it. He didn't remember.

"Ahh, lad, you're getting too big for the Colonel to keep carrying ya like a wee babe. It's time you started walking on your own—like the grown lad we know you can be," Beckett offered, sliding away from the bed and heading across the Ancient infirmary and toward the door.

"Yeah, you're real sympathetic, Carson," McKay called across the room to the departing doctor. Rodney rested his still warm forehead in his palm and sighed, "real sympathetic." The head twisted, to glance uncomfortably up at the colonel. "You carried me?" he asked softly. Sheppard shrugged.

"Yeah. You had to get here somehow."

Rodney's face pinched, and he looked away, covering his eyes with his hand. "Sorry," he said softly, not hiding his embarrassment. "That must have been...Sorry."

The colonel grimaced, then shook his head.

"It was nothing. Come on, McKay." Sheppard stepped forward and raised a hand to pat Rodney's bare, pale shoulder. He hesitated before he completed the movement, noting the fine scant hair that curled and covered skin that had gone too long without sun. The lack of clothing was unnerving. Sheppard cringed and dropped his hand. "Lets go—quicker we get back, quicker we can get you all checked out and the more back to normal we'll be."

"Like that will ever happen," McKay muttered under his breath, shifting sideways and drawing the blanket tightly around him. With a bit of work, he got it fashioned into a sort of long, blue toga.

The group slowly exited the one-time abandoned Ancient city and gradually filtered its way into the forest. Despite their protestations about being fine, Teyla, Beckett and McKay all walked a little more slowly than normal.

The off-world teams had stretched out, breaking off into pairs with the science group Zelenka had brought with him leading the way to the Stargate.

Zelenka and Beckett conversed quietly. Radek occasionally became animated and gesticulated wildly describing something or other in a fantastic and obvious manner. Behind them Ronon paced Teyla's soft step. The Athosian tread with the strength and assuredness of re-gained youth, but her pace was slowed and softened by the tumultuous events of the last few days.

Sheppard and McKay brought up the rear, keeping the others in sight as they walked down the well-traveled, finely-powdered dirt trail. With each step, fine clouds of dust billowed into the air, caking McKay's bare feet with an ever-thickening film of dirt. McKay had paled even further, muttering about tetanus shots, pin worms and other such horrid infestations when they had first started on their trip back to the gate, but it didn't have as much heart in it as it usually did.

No one paid much heed to the blustering and whining. Beckett had promised painful (albeit only possible) cures to Rodney's listing of ailments, all the while reminding Rodney there were no guarantees in medicine. Nothing worked one hundred percent after all. McKay's complaints eventually faded away, until he wasn't talking at all. Which, oddly, was worse. So, Sheppard started talking to take keep McKay's mind (and his own) distracted.

"I'm just saying, the next time you enter an Ancient city," Sheppard tried again attempting to keep his voice even and dulling the placating edge to his tone, "try not to touch anything." He kept an eye on Teyla who walked confidently a few yards ahead of them with Ronon at her side. The colonel couldn't help but appreciate her lithe frame and Athosian attire which accented it, but even that didn't distract him from noticing the shortening of her stride and the delicacy in which she placed her feet.

Sheppard knew she still ached and hurt.

"I didn't touch anything!" McKay once again stammered, trying to keep his voice down and his blanket in place. "Carson did—you should be talking to him! He touches everything."

Sheppard shortened his step, dropped his voice and quietly warned, "Rodney."

"What? Oh yes, yes, yes, fine." McKay harrumphed. Whatever else he was going to say was suddenly forgotten when a small whirlwind zoomed out of thinning forest that surrounded the small village and let loose with a gleeful giggle and latched onto McKay's blanketed leg.

McKay staggered under the sudden assault—it had wrapped tentacle like arms just above his knee and its legs formed a vice-like grip around his upper ankle. A childish giggle emanated from the pint-sized lichen.

"Oh no!" McKay squeaked, "Get off! Off! Off! Off! Help!" He hobbled a step, trying to shake a leg and maintain his balance while keeping a tight grip on his dangerously slipping blanket. The toga's knot on his shoulder loosened, and he grabbed at it desperately to hold it together.

The small bundle wrapped around his leg, giggled all the harder at the fanciful footwork. The child clung tighter to his leg, causing McKay to flinch and flair about even more.

"Colonel, do something!" Rodney pleaded, trying to finagle a way to reach down and pry the child without letting go of his blanket.

"Aw, Rodney, don't hurt the wee babe now!" The amused thick accent floated musically up over the childish, gleeful squeals of the tiny creature that latched fiercely to McKay's leg like a barnacle to the bottom of a boat.

"Get it off! It might carry disease!" Rodney lifted his leg and shook it at Sheppard trying to dislodge the tenacious creature with long soft brown hair and gap tooth smile. "Go home! Shoo! Shoo! Don't you have a home?" McKay looked pleadingly at his fellow Atlantians, "Do something—It's like vermin!"

"Yes, it is," Sheppard agreed, side-stepping and arching around McKay and his sudden, acutely acquired tibiofibular parasiticus co-joined twin. Sheppard gave the two a wide berth and shuffled past, careful not to tread on the quickly sagging and dangerously puddling blanket.

"Keep it G rated, McKay," Sheppard warned.

"Oh for the love of—," Rodney grabbed for his blanket and cinched it tighter up under his armpit.

"Much better," Sheppard approved and continued forward to the waiting foursome—Beckett, Radek, Ronon and Teyla all watched with amused expressions. Rodney followed, limping, shaking his leg and cursing like a drunken sailor who suffered a sudden, unexpected wind change at a most inappropriate time.

They walked slowly as a group, talking and bantering, with Ronon and Sheppard occasionally tossing looks back over their shoulder making sure that Rodney kept within a permissible and protectable distance as he argued vehemently with the moppet sticking to his leg, trying to get it to let go.

As the gate came into view the scientific team slowly walked through the shimmering puddle of light back to Atlantis—home. Occasionally, people would look over their shoulders at the slowly advancing misfit group and its one lagging member. Some of the scientist would smile, proud at their ability to once again beat the clock and stave off another disaster and imminent death while others looked over their shoulders and grimaced at the raised, scathing voice of Rodney McKay as he struggled to catch up with his extended team.

The giggling, happy little moppet's voice overpowered the adult's the entire way.

[{O}]

A/N: A local official has parked his vehicle outside of the coffee restaurant. Now why would a police officer want to stop for coffee? I must escape before he sees me. I hope the manure problem hasn't increased. I fear it has. Tomorrow, you will find the final chapter. Until then, you will leave me more reviews. JULIE! I'm coming! Stop messing with the stereo!

A/N: Julie and I have returned to our secret stronghold. The Winnie is parked under the big tree with the scary branches. The yaks are meandering on the steppes. The ass is back. Julie is once again in the barn. I am in the underground bunker beneath it, with about 20 gallons of coffee drinks prepared at that certain coffee restaurant. Have you ever noticed how many there are out there? All is right in the world again. I have stocked the barn with corn nuts, corn pone and corn fritters, and am still ebaying like crazy for diversions for my precious Julie. Life is good, and here is the final chapter of this story.

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Chapter Twenty: Getting off the Roller Coaster

In the dark shadows of Beckett's office, lit only by the dim lights of the outer infirmary, Sheppard fingered the faded, light red moccasins that sat on the corner of Beckett's cluttered desk. Sheppard kept the lights off in Beckett's office, enjoying the privacy and seclusion brought by the deep shadows, hoping to find a moment of quiet. He had immediately spotted the small right-footed moccasin on Carson's desk. The lack of the mate garnered his attention. He had found the left shoe on the floor under the desk next a pile of creased and worn genetic books and various journals. Sheppard had cringed at the titles as he picked up the shoe and placed it back on Beckett's desk next to its twin which rested on a plastic box full of slides, next to curled small printouts of gel electrophoresis results. The colonel stared at the black and white tracings for a moment and then discarded them.

He turned his attention to the small pair of moccasins. McKay's skull design caught his eyes.

He stared at the childish but amazingly fiendish skull that Rodney had drawn at some point in his time as a 'child'. The Colonel stared at both moccasins marveling at the crudeness of the pictures but captivated by the intricate detail and near symmetrical precision—if one ignored the crude writing instrument that was used.

Sheppard quietly wondered who Rodney was trying to warn off, or if he had consciously been aware of even drawing the images.

He lifted the tiny moccasins and turned them over in his hand as his mind drifted back over the last two and a half days.

His introspection was interrupted when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He jerked around, dropping the shoes back onto the desk, allowing one to fall to the floor and partially under the desk back to its original spot next to a small ill-stacked pile of books and journals.

"Colonel Sheppard?" Dr. Biro's amused voice had him spinning around like an errant schoolboy caught some place he shouldn't be. Not that he wasn't allowed in Beckett's office—it was just he should have been out with his team, checking on Teyla and Rodney, maybe thanking Zelenka or speaking again with Weir. Instead, he had retreated to the privacy Carson's office, where he could watch the others from a distance. Things had moved and changed too fast, too furiously. He needed time to catch up.

"I was, just, ahh," Sheppard stammered, trying to explain his presence without truly having to. He tried to avoid meeting the startling green eyes behind the thick lenses worn by the smaller, mousy pathologist.

To Sheppard, Biro had always appeared in the background, lurking in the shadows, comfortable within the deep recesses, content with her cadavers and tissue samples. It seemed she surfaced for only brief moments at a time then disappeared quietly into obscurity again with no one paying attention. It was as if she only flirted with the living when disaster struck, content to remain with the dead, unveiling their secrets unless a crisis drove her into the realm of the living.

Sheppard agreed with Mini-McKay's assessment of Biro. He didn't think he'd want to be in the infirmary with Biro working on him either. It just seemed like a bad idea—bad karma— foreshadowing. Nothing good could come from having a pathologist work on you while you still lived and breathed. It unsettled him.

"How are they?" Sheppard looked over Biro's shoulder into the infirmary. The lights were dimmed to their night settings. Ronon sat in a chair absently swinging the stuffed cat back and forth by its tail. The colonel hoped the tail didn't fall off. It would probably anger McKay, though the colonel was sure McKay would never admit it.

"They will be fine. Dr. McKay's chemistries and electrolytes are returning to within their reference values. His CBC is leveling back to normal, much quicker than we could hope for. The fever, however, has taken its toll and he is currently sleeping again." Biro smiled. "The imaging is showing the return of normal morphology and structure. Dr. Beckett felt it would be best to let him return to his quarters, to familiar ground, but only if someone agreed to keep an eye on him periodically."

Biro sighed heavily as if the decision was not optimal. She figured Dr. Beckett caved to Dr. McKay's persistent vocal harassment simply to find some quiet.

Sheppard eyed her. "You don't agree?"

"I only don't agree because Dr. Beckett will not be the one doing the checking—I fear that will fall to me." Biro shook her head slightly frustrated with the situation. In pathology the dead didn't talk back to you. It was one reason she branched out away from internal medicine. If patients presented mute or without significant others, medicine would be so much more enjoyable. Biro sighed wishfully. Pathology and lesions were her niche; toss in a few virulent viruses and her world became perfect, intriguing.

"What about his arm?" Sheppard asked.

"The bullet graze? Barely a scar. It healed when his body returned to normal."

"Oh. Teyla?"

"We are keeping her here, though she, too, has shown remarkable regeneration. Her tissues and blood work are vastly improved in the last few hours. Still, her body went through a more severe, debilitating degenerative state. It will take a little longer to repair itself, and the earlier difficulties with her heart—when we nearly lost her—warrant closer observation. Dr. Beckett has decided it is best to keep her here under observation." She sighed again. Sheppard quirked a knowing smile.

"Again, I take it you don't agree?"

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Beckett will not be the one tripping over that monstrosity out there swinging Dr. McKay's stuffed cat by its tail, and he will not be the one periodically having to check in on Dr. McKay this evening." Biro sighed despondently again and pushed her heavy framed thick glasses back up onto her nose.

"Where is the Doc?" Sheppard asked, stepping away from the desk and staring through the glass at the beds cast under the dark shadow of the infirmary.

"Headache," Biro answered, leaning over to pick up some of the loose papers on Beckett's desk, which Sheppard had dislodged.

Sheppard looked over his shoulder at the wild haired, unkempt pathologist. "You knocked his ass out again?"

She turned and gave him a superior quirky smile. "I am treating his headache."

"He know?"

"Eventually, yes." She smiled and pushed the glasses back up onto her nose.

"Now if you would like, you and Mr. Dex and Dr. McKay's stuffed cat may vacate the infirmary. In fact, I encourage it." She paused as she followed the head of Atlantis military and second most destructive force in the Pegasus galaxy out of her CMO's office and away from the microscope, computer and other expensive instruments that Dr. Beckett had managed to cram into his small office over the last few months. The last time Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard had been in Beckett's office, they had knocked over two boxes of glass slides, scattering over 200 fixed specimens willy nilly across the floor.

"If you want, Doc, I'll look in on McKay." Sheppard turned and smiled his most sincere grin. "That'll leave you with just Telya and Beckett—it'll make for an easy night. What do you say?"

"If it will get Mr. Dex out of here, and if you promise to report any difficulties or unusual behavior on Dr. McKay's part, then we have a deal."

Sheppard smiled. "No problem."

[{O}]

Teyla woke, stretching languidly within the confines of the infirmary bed. The lights were dimmed and the temperature was slightly cooler than during the day.

Biro shuffled over, trying to push her foot into her shoe while she walked, which had come loose. She crammed loose papers into her lab coat pocket while searching the area around the base of her neck for the stethoscope that lay folded in her right pocket. The pathologist/internist stifled a yawn.

Teyla watched the doctor approach with some apprehension. In the background, she saw Sheppard half pushing Dex out of the infirmary, the colonel glancing over his shoulder to give her a wink as they disappeared out the door.

"How are you feeling, Teyla?" Biro asked, smiling down at her.

"Well rested." Teyla smiled pleasantly. "May I go?" She looked hopeful, wishing to escape the confines of the infirmary and return to the comfort of her own quarters.

Biro didn't immediately deny the Athosian a discharge. Instead, she smiled when her hand found her missing stethoscope and pulled it free from the pocket, scattering small scraps of paper to the floor. "I was hoping," Biro started, separating the crossed ear pieces with a well-practiced single-handed move and placing them in her ears, "that you would stay and perhaps," she paused as she placed the stethoscope diaphragm against the Athosian's muscular back and listened for a moment or two, "that you would stay and perhaps keep Carson over there," she indicated with her head to the still sleeping CMO on the next bed over, "company." Biro had no intentions of arguing or making demands. She didn't have her colleague's natural charm.

Biro moved the stethoscope to the front of Teyla's chest. "Deep breath please,"

Teyla complied. "What is wrong with Dr. Beckett?" She stared at the doctor who slept on his side, slack jawed, with a damp cloth placed over his eyes and a second one around the back of his neck. He still wore his blue and grey clothes for off world expeditions but his shoes and vest had been removed and a blanket dropped across the majority of his body.

"That machine, because of the damage to it, still caused a backlash—apparently no one thought to fix that aspect of it in their haste. Understandable, but unfortunate. It resulted in a headache, nothing deadly, just incapacitating." Biro switched to the bell. "Please hold your breath."

Teyla stopped breathing.

"Everything sounds fine." Biro stepped back and stared at the one time leader and protector of the Athosian people. She watched as Teyla looked at Beckett for a moment and then back to her.

Biro knew she succeeded.

"I will stay." Teyla searched the rest of the room. "Where is Dr. McKay?"

Biro checked her watch and then smiled. "Hopefully, Colonel Sheppard is checking on Dr. McKay as we speak."

[{O}]

Sheppard watched silently as Ronon headed down the hall away from him, disappearing into the quiet gray hum of Atlantis at night. They hadn't actually wished each other good night, an easy camaraderie allowing them merely a head nod as they turned in different directions, but the colonel slowed to a stop after a moment when he realized Ronon had carried the stuffed cat out of the infirmary with him. Turning in the hall, he caught one last glimpse of the big man before Ronon turned around a corner, Kiki still held in the powerful arms. Briefly, Sheppard considered whether it mattered to him that Ronon was keeping it…then decided it didn't. Whatever private reason the solitary man had for keeping the stuffed cat, Sheppard wasn't going to question it.

Moving again, he started walking towards Rodney's room, feeling more and more isolated as the corridors stayed quiet around him. Everyone was asleep. After the insanity of the last few days, it seemed odd. Quickening his step, he decided he wanted to get this visit over with quickly, so that he wouldn't have to think about it anymore...Wouldn't have to try and understand why he so much wanted to go back to the infirmary and steal those pink shoes and keep them safe.

Turning another corner, he found himself stopping when he spotted Elizabeth walking down another corridor. She was walking slowly, her head down, her hands clasped behind her back, and in them what appeared to be a picture frame.

Changing his mind, he turned and jogged after her, calling her name softly out of deference of the people sleeping in the nearby rooms.

She looked up, offering him a gentle smile as he reached her side.

"How's it going?" he asked, tilting his head, seeing the tension lines on her face fading a little. "You're up late. You okay?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine," she said. "Just…it's amazing how fast things can change around here. You'd think I'd be getting more used to this sort of thing, but I don't think I am." She chuckled weakly, shrugging again.

Sheppard gave a small smile back, wondering a little at the echo of his earlier thoughts, and for a moment felt a little less alone. Elizabeth looked down again at the picture frame, in which a crumpled piece of paper with orange crayon all over it had been placed. Sheppard tilted his head some more, then arched an eyebrow as he realized that it was Rodney's schematic drawing.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Zelenka was using this when he took apart the biometric sensor. Looks like Rodney was already sort of thinking about it even before his…epiphany…earlier this morning. Radek said it was very useful in getting the control crystals to fit within the framework of the ruined machine."

Sheppard nodded, noting as well the stick figure cats and other random doodles along the edges. The work of a genius and a child. Something clenched in his gut, but he refused to acknowledge it, keeping the unaffected look on his face.

"Do me a favor," she said softly, glancing down the hall again, in the vague direction of Rodney's room, "don't tell him I have it."

He glanced at her face, noting the faraway look. "Why?"

She gave him a look, as if the answer was obvious. He shook his head.

"No, sorry," he gave a sheepish look, "That wasn't my question. I meant, why are you keeping it?"

"Oh, not sure. A reminder, I suppose," she gripped the frame a little tighter, "to never to let appearances deceive. To trust my people more. To…" she sighed, "to not let my fear of dealing with the unknown…stop me from doing my job." She looked down the dark hallway, as if feeling its emptiness. "Thing is…I nearly killed him, John."

That shocked the colonel, his eyebrows shooting up. "What?"

"I warned you I don't handle children well, Colonel. I put him in that nursery to keep him under control, and perhaps to punish him a little. I felt like I had no means to deal with what had happened to him, and so putting him away felt like the best course. Let others deal with him. Kate. You. Carson. I kept my distance. And…he was there all day. By himself. No one even brought him lunch, much less dinner. And did you see the state of it? What if he hadn't tried to escape, and been seen by Doctor Li? Then she wouldn't have alerted us, and we wouldn't have gone looking and….If he'd stayed there all night, with no one checking on him..." She lifted the picture up, hugging it to her chest, her eyes shining.

"Then you wouldn't be the only one to blame, Elizabeth," Sheppard stated firmly. There was a bleakness to his tone that turned her head, and she saw the same guilt in his eyes. After a moment, she nodded.

"Perhaps. But, ultimately, I am the one in charge, John, not you. I should not have let my anger and frustration get to me."

John watched her a moment longer, then his lips perked up. "True…but this is Rodney we're talking about. You're not a saint, Elizabeth, though at times some of us think you must be to keep it all together. Just keep in mind—Rodney wasn't making this easy, and neither were the rest of us…and by us, I mean, of course, me. I stayed in the gym all day, Elizabeth."

She stared at him a moment longer, then gave a tiny smile on her own. "He is…a piece of work, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

She sighed, and held out the picture again. Slowly, she smiled some more. "Well," she looked up, and nodded at something in her head. "Thank you, John. I think...I just needed to hear that."

He snorted and gave her a genuine smile. "My pleasure."

"And the same goes for you as well, you know."

His eyebrows perked up in surprise. She gave him a knowing look. So much for appearing unaffected. She just knew him too well.

"Are you going to see Rodney?" she asked.

"Yeah. Biro wants me to look in on him."

"Tell him 'hi'."

"I will."

She nodded at him again, then turned away. As she walked, her shoulders lifted a little higher, her stride more purposeful. Sheppard smiled.

He wondered if she knew that he had recognized the frame. It was the one that for the whole first year they were here had held a picture of Simon in it.

He was glad she had found something better to put in it.

[{O}]

Sheppard frowned at the empty room, seeing the tossed bed that suggested someone had tried to sleep there but had failed. It made him uneasy. Turning away, he walked down the hall to McKay's lab, but found that empty as well. The frown grew deeper, and he drummed his fingers on his thigh, trying to decide whether to alert the others.

Walking a bit further, he popped his head into the large room where Zelenka usually worked, which had puddle jumper parts strewn in corners and, of course, pieces of the Wraith ship taking up a large portion of the space. There was a desk lamp on over one of the tables, but no Radek. The engineer was asleep, no doubt.

Sheppard tilted his head when he saw that the laptop sitting there was also on, and smiled when he saw a digital picture of Mini-McKay sucking on his thumb as the desktop picture. Heh—McKay would make Zelenka pay for that one. He needed to ask the Czech to email it to him. Turning, he walked out of the lab and looked around—trying to think of other possible locations.

Then a new thought came to him, and he found himself walking swiftly to the nearest transporter.

Moments later, he was walking down the quiet hall in a different residence section, staring at the pool of light pouring out over the top of the half door, trying not to think about last time he had been here.

Slowing, he reached the nursery entrance and just stared for a moment, watching.

Rodney stood in the middle of the room, fully dressed but with the blue blanket around his shoulders still—apparently, he had kept it. The scientist was looking around at the chaos. Bits of down and plush still covered everything, the black marks were still on the walls, and the closets in the room were all open and raided looking, intact and destroyed toys strewn everywhere.

Apparently, no one had been given the job of cleaning up this room. After all, what would they really need it for?

Rodney lifted a foot and toed the spent bullets that had been captured by the Wraith hologram, and which had fallen to the floor when the creature had disappeared. He looked a little bemused by them. In fact, he looked a little bemused by everything.

Sheppard opened the half door, nodding at Rodney when the scientist turned to see who was there.

"Hey," he greeted, raising a hand. McKay stared at him a moment, then frowned.

"What do you want?" It was not politely asked.

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted, "Well, that's nice. I come to check on you, Doctor's orders, and you bite my head off. Lovely."

McKay's eyes narrowed a bit, then softened. "Oh, you mean Biro. Hunh. She's not going to check on me herself?"

"Nope. I said I'd do it, because she looked like she could use a break. Though I'm rethinking that now."

McKay harrumphed, and turned around again, eyes once more searching the little room. He was obviously distracted, not responding to the jibe as he normally would.

Sheppard came up alongside, pointedly not looking at either the bullets on the ground, or the holes in the far wall—or the faint red streak. Instead, he looked surreptitiously at his friend, noting the sheen of sweat on the forehead and the tight grip his left hand had on the blanket, which was trembling slightly. He may be getting better, but Rodney was far from well. He looked exhausted and still pale as a ghost.

"Still got a headache?" Sheppard asked softly.

Rodney didn't answer, just gave a small snort, as if the answer were obvious.

"You look tired," Sheppard noted. "Probably still a bit feverish, eh?"

The tiniest crease of annoyance lit on Rodney's forehead, then it disappeared.

"Maybe," the colonel shrugged, "it might be a good idea for you to go get some sleep?"

Rodney closed his eyes in obvious exasperation, then opened them again. Clearly, he wasn't going to respond.

Sheppard nodded, pursed his lips, and put his hands behind his back. For a moment, neither man spoke.

The colonel rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at the floor, just waiting.

Finally, Rodney sighed, and he indicated the ruined room with his free right hand. "I, uh, I did this, didn't I? Made this mess?"

A tiny smile touched Sheppard's lips, and he looked up. "Yeah." Then the smile faded as he realized what Rodney had just said. "Wait...you don't remember?"

Rodney shook his head, and winced a little as it obviously aggravated the headache. "No, not really. To be honest, I don't really remember much of anything at all after we left the planet that second time. Vague flashes of memory, but not much. Some things are clear, some aren't, and some things just don't make sense at all." He frowned, and the hand not gripping the blanket reached up to rub at his head. "Like...I remember a Wraith. But...that couldn't have happened. How would a Wraith have gotten in here?"

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted up high, and he cleared his throat. "Ah, well...it was a hologram, Rodney. You made holograms somehow. Some toy or other. Not sure where it is now." He looked around the room, wondering indeed what had happened to the device.

The scientist arched an eyebrow sharply. "I made a Wraith? Why?"

Sheppard just shrugged. "Who knows what goes on inside that crazy melonhead of yours, McKay. Most of us just try to keep up, you know?"

McKay snorted, not missing the sarcasm. "Thanks."

Sheppard gave a wry smile, thinking maybe Rodney deserved a break. "Actually, I think you were having a nightmare. Next thing you know..." He shrugged.

McKay's eyes widened, then narrowed, as if about to retort that the idea was ridiculous, and then his expression suddenly changed, as a new thought obviously entered his mind. A moment later, his expression morphed into embarrassment. "Oh."

"Not your fault."

McKay frowned a little, then the eyes widened, and he looked accusatorily at Sheppard. "Wait, wait, then...Did you shoot me?"

Sheppard gave a half shrug, flushing a little. "Well..."

"Oh my God!" Rodney looked flabbergasted. "You did shoot me! I thought I'd dreamt that!"

"C'mon, McKay, I was trying to—"

"I can't believe you shot me! And you made fun of me for asking for a pry bar to get that thing off my leg?" He crossed his arms under the blanket, causing it to stretch a bit over the broad shoulders. "Your child-rearing skills leave a lot to be desired, Colonel."

"Child rearing skills? I was trying to save your life!"

"By shooting me?"

"There was a Wraith!"

"You said it was a hologram!"

"I didn't know it was a hologram at the time!"

"So how did you shoot me, if you were shooting at the Wraith? Even I know I didn't look like a Wraith colonel. I mean, how tall was I? Four feet? Less? When was the last time you saw a four foot tall Wraith?!"

"About six hours ago! And he was a life sucking little twerp, I can tell you!"

"Oh, that's just wonderful. It's amazing I survived, with you around!"

"You?! You were in hog heaven! I had to carry you everywhere! It was horrible!"

"You wouldn't put me down! You and those others, lugging me around like a sack of potatoes. I was a child, not produce!"

"Produce? At least produce is quiet! If I had to listen to that whiny, reedy voice of yours one more time—"

"You'd what, shoot me? Well, no worries there, Colonel, you already did!"

"Well, believe me, I'm thinking of doing it again!"

"Oh, your just lucky there isn't such a thing as Social Services in the Pegasus Galaxy, Colonel, or else you'd be in deep—"

"Um, excuse me?" A soft, female voice called from the doorway.

Both men turned sharply, McKay teetering a little at the abrupt move, but Sheppard caught him and got him stable. Standing in the doorway was a pink bathrobed young woman, blonde, squinting a little into the bright light. McKay thought she might be one of Beckett's researchers.

"Can we help you?" Sheppard asked, not hiding his surprise at seeing her there.

She blinked a bit, as if not quite seeing him, then nodded. "Um, yes. See, um, me and some of the others...see, we sleep down the hall a bit, that-a-way," she pointed vaguely to the left. "We, uh, we didn't get much sleep last night with all the...you know..." she looked at McKay, then back at Sheppard, "excitement, and so, we're kinda tired, and, um...," She grimaced. "Well, could you keep it down? You two are kinda loud."

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted, and he looked at McKay.

The head scientist's brow darkened, his eyes narrowing, lips twisting in a serious scowl. It may have been Sheppard's imagination, but he could have sworn he heard thunder rumble overhead.

The scientist in the doorway backed up a little, her eyes widening.

"Kinda loud?" McKay repeated, stressing the syllables in the words, his face turning an unhealthy shade of crimson. "Kinda loud?"

She emitted a tiny peep of fear, and backed up fully into the hall.

"You want to hear LOUD?!" McKay yelled as he took a step towards the door, flinging his arms out wide, opening the blanket like a massive blue cape framing his dark clothes, making him look huge. "I'LL SHOW YOU LOUD! GET OUTTA HERE, YOU HARPY!"

She screamed and took off down the corridor, her slippers pattering away in a full run. The two men cocked their heads as she squealed a bit a moment later, followed by a soft thump as she obviously slipped and hit a wall, then she was up again and the running resumed.

As the footsteps finally faded, McKay leaned back on his heels and smiled, sighing contentedly, wrapping the blanket around him again. He glanced at Sheppard, who was watching him with a sly grin on his face.

McKay smirked shamelessly. "That was fun. I missed being able to do that."

Sheppard burst out laughing. McKay joined in a moment later, until he started coughing, hacking a bit as his lingering illness caught up with him. Still laughing, Sheppard hooked a hand under his friend's left arm and steered him towards the door. McKay allowed himself to be dragged, especially since he was still unsteady on his feet.

"Good to have you back, Oh Demon Lord of the Labs," Sheppard said, nudging McKay a bit and reaching up to rub affectionately at his hair.

McKay ducked out of the touch. "Don't you know it," he replied happily—if a bit wearily. Sheppard grinned again, stepping out into the hall, all thoughts of pink shoes forgotten.

McKay glanced one more time behind him at the nursery before following, his right hand fingering the hologram projector in his pocket, which he'd found on the floor. Looking up, he gave a mental nudge and the lights turned off. Then he followed his friend out the door.

And from one corner a quiet, but very annoying voice, muttered, "Beeda-Beeda well thank God that's over Beeda-Beeda."

McKay peeked back into the room, and Twiki exploded a second time.

And all was right with the universe.

The End!

[{O}]

A/N: There! It is DONE! The challenge that might have broken others has left me better, faster and stronger! I am KOLYAAA! Look upon me and tremble!... and give me more reviews. Seriously... I like the reviews.
A/N: To everyone who has showered me with your feedback, I thank you. You have been so kind (most of you - Wraith Sleep Tonight - not so much; and Ma, you really have to stop following me. I'll come to the harvest fest, but you have to promise me that you won't try to bake any pies. Really, Ma, I've tortured prisoners with less harsh treatment). To everyone, your words of encouragement have helped me during a dark cowless period in my life. I thank you from the bottom of my black heart. Now, the rest of you have your chance to shower me with praise. Do so.