Here's a little epilogue, by special request. ;) Hope you like it!

oOo

"Teyla," Rodney looks up as I enter the infirmary. "You're late." He says it without accusation, but I feel a little guilty nonetheless. The last thing Rodney needs right now is to feel alone.

I greet him with a broad smile. "I know, but I believe you will forgive me when you see what I have brought you."

His eyes light up as I withdraw my present from behind my back. "Chocolate cake!" Rodney eagerly takes the small plate and holds it as if it were a precious gem. "I thought they were all out! Kavanaugh just came through here claiming that three marines jumped him for the last piece."

I raise my eyebrow playfully. "That is not precisely how it happened..."

Rodney looks up from his plate, and I must stifle a laugh at the sight of a smudge of chocolate icing on his chin. "What do you mean it—" Comprehension dawns in his features. "Teyla, you didn't."

"Dr. Kavanaugh and I had a minor dispute over who could claim rightful possession of the last piece of cake. I believe he found my arguments very…persuasive."

Rodney's eyes widen in shock. "Teyla, he came in here saying he had a broken wrist!"

I roll my eyes. "It was only a light sprain at most. And I cannot help it if he did not take kindly to my suggestion that the cake would not help him maintain his girlish figure." I finish with a shrug and a smile that matches Rodney's.

"Hmm. Insults and sarcasm. You're spending far too much time with me."

I reach up to casually wipe the icing from his chin. "I suppose it is a price I am willing to pay."

He looks at me for a moment as if not really seeing me, and I recognize he is lost in his own thoughts. Whatever they are, he is not willing to share them, as the next thing he says is, "Well, just don't let Carson see me eating this. I'm supposed to be off of caffeine and chocolate for at least another 3 days."

"Not that I really expected you to oblige." Rodney nearly jumps off the bed at the sound of Carson's voice, and the last of the chocolate cake is smeared all over his shirt.

"Carson!" he says, trying to rescue what remains of his dessert. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I think I've had enough of a shock to my system this week, don't you?"

Carson produces the weary, long-suffering sigh that he has perfected since having Rodney as a patient. "Aye, but if you were really as concerned with your health as you seem, you wouldn't be eating that cake now, would you?"

Rodney tries to look innocent, but it is difficult to do when his mouth is full of cake. "Sorry," he mumbles.

I can't help but chuckle at the pair, and Carson shoots me a rueful look as if to say, "Don't encourage him." He has Rodney change into a clean shirt, then runs a few tests. He tells us that it could take quite some time before we get some of the results back, so we should get comfortable for a while. I make myself at home on the neighboring bed, and Rodney and I take comfort in each other's company while we wait for the results. After a time, I feel rather than see Rodney stiffen, and I wonder briefly if I have done something wrong. Then, I follow his eyes to see a familiar figure, and I know the source of Rodney's discomfort.

Colonel Sheppard is standing in the doorway to the infirmary, looking decidedly apprehensive. When he sees us both looking at him, he takes a tentative step forward and smiles weakly in greeting. "Hey. How's the patient?"

Rodney is also looking particularly anxious. Looking at the two of them now, one would not suspect that they had spent many hours in the infirmary together, patiently waiting by each other's bedsides or making mischief. Now, they look very uncomfortable in each other's presence.

"I, uh, I'm fine. I guess."

"Oh, that's good." Sheppard slips his hands into his pockets and begins rocking on his heels.

"Yes, well, Carson hasn't gotten the, uh, the test results back yet, so…"

"But you feel fine. Right?"

"Yes, fine."

"Good." Sheppard pauses, apparently having exhausted his repertoire of small talk. He turns to me a gives me a familiar look, a mix of panic and pleading. He has looked at me like that on many occasions, when he has stuck his foot in his mouth on missions and is expecting me to talk him out of the hole he has dug for himself. Needless to say, this time I will not be helping him, so I just stare back. It is Rodney, not me, who saves him from the awkward silence.

"Why are you here?"

Sheppard looks hurt by the abruptness of Rodney's question, but then quickly hides it behind annoyance. "Well, gee, that new technician is having a birthday party today, so I thought I'd stop by and grab some of those latex gloves to use as balloons. Why do you think I'm here, Rodney? I wanted to see how you're doing."

"Oh." Rodney seems to consider this answer, then replies, "Well, like I said, I'm good."

"I thought you said you were fine?"

"Fine, whatever. I'm fine."

"Good."

The two men stare at each other, and Rodney narrows his eyes at the Colonel in a way that asks if he's doing this on purpose. Sheppard does his best to appear innocent.

The Colonel looks for a moment like he might say something else, then decides against it. "Well, I got some reports I need to write, so…" Sheppard jerks his thumb in the direction of the door, and Rodney nods his understanding. Sheppard hesitates, then turns and begins walking towards the door. Without pausing, he turns again and walks determinedly over to Rodney's bed. "Listen, you want to know the real reason I came here? I came to apologize."

Rodney looks more confused than ever. "Apologize? For what?"

Sheppard glances in my direction, but I just stare stoically back. Turning back to Rodney, he says, "For the way I treated you when you were on the enzyme. I wasn't there for you like I should have been, and I'm sorry."

"Oh." Rodney furrows his brow as he stares at Sheppard. "Okay."

There is a pause, then Sheppard looks at me again, with an expression that asks, "That's it?" I smile back in reply. While the Colonel may be surprised that Rodney can forgive him so easily, I am not. Rodney has forgiven Sheppard many times, sometimes before he even realized there was anything to forgive. It is the nature of their friendship.

Sheppard smiles then, and I am pleased to see Rodney smile back. "Okay then," Sheppard begins, drawing a pack of cards out of his pocket. "Since it seems we have some time to kill, what do you say we introduce Teyla to the wonders of poker?" he beams.

Rodney groans. "Fine, but if we're playing Texas Hold 'Em, I deal. When you deal it makes me too annoyed to concentrate."

"What are you talking about? I'm an excellent dealer!" Sheppard asks, mock hurt in his voice.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Rodney says, "You say 'ta da' every time you turn over a community card!"

"I'm just trying to make the game more interesting! Besides, when you're frustrated you can't count the cards."

"Oh, please, like you're not counting the cards just as much as I am!"

Ever the peacemaker, I interrupt their argument. "Gentlemen, what is this game?" Sheppard looks delighted to explain, but I only half-hear his instructions. My mind wanders to thoughts of the broken trust our team has suffered, and the Colonel's small gesture today. There is still much rebuilding to do, but it is a good first step. It may never be what it once was, but all friendships change with time, and ours is no different. Thinking of Aiden, I realize the real challenge is making sure we are all here to change with it. And although that is not something we can control, I plan to try.

oOo

Author's notes: Okay, now that's really it. Unless the bunny bites again. Whatever. ;)