A/N: My hard drive was stolen about a year ago with many precious things on it, this fic being one of them. But going through old notebooks, I found it again! This is part of my quest to finish abandoned fics. As promised, the second part of Rosie's Corner Store.
oOoOo
Randy sat at the back of the store, glancing up from her book. She gazed out at the stretch of mountains and foothills just above the roofs of other buildings. There was a reason they spoke of the Rocky Mountains as 'purple mountains' majesty'. They rose great and dark purple, with ominous clouds descending on Monument.
Sniffing the air, she wondered if it would rain at all. Walking back inside, Randy glanced around the store. A few loyal shoppers dotted the aisles, their baskets squeaking on the newly waxed floors. Just as she reached the checkout lane, the phone rang.
"Rosie's," she answered half-heartedly.
"Hey there. Is this Randy?"
She rolled her eyes. "That's me. What can I do for you?" All the things she wanted to say stopped in her throat. Be nice to the customers, Miranda.
"It's John Sheppard. I need a delivery."
A smile curved her lips. She had waited to hear from the two men, hoping she'd at least get to observe them again. "Hi. Hope you're feelin' better. I'm ready to take your list."
"Thanks." John rattled off a short list; his voice lost its vibrancy the more he spoke. By the end of the conversation, he had almost no voice. "Call me back with a total?"
"Sure. You should stop talking because you sound horrible. Got any prescriptions to pick up?"
John ineffectively cleared his throat. "Not sure. If so, add it to the total."
"Okay. I'll call back in a few minutes, Mister Sheppard." Hanging up, Randy felt anxious. Two sick people taking care of each other was not exactly a good idea. Collecting a basket, she stopped first at the pharmacy.
"Hey, Mister Ferguson. Got any 'scripts for Sheppard or McKay?"
The pharmacist adjusted his heavy glasses. "Lemme check. Yep, yep. Got one for each, faxed over yesterday. They must be pretty important people."
"Why do you say that?"
He shrugged. "Not often does anyone's doctor actually fax over a prescription, let alone call personally to have it rushed."
From the way Sheppard sounded, it wasn't any wonder. Randy took the medicine and added it to her basket. "Thanks, Ernie. I'm making a delivery, so I'll put it in their total."
Randy continued down the aisles, buying in order of non-meltiness. John insisted on a certain type of chocolate ice cream; it was the most expensive they carried. So that came last. Soup and juice dominated the list. Upon completing the list, she dialed the number to reach the men.
"This's Sheppard."
"Hi, it's Randy. I have your total." She gave the total, and he gave a credit card and an address. "I'll be there in about ten minutes, okay?"
"Sounds good. See you then."
With minimal resistance from Chad, Randy was on her way. John's call came at just the right time; her shift would end before she got back from her delivery. Driving up to the small bungalow, Randy glanced around the familiar neighborhood.
Her aunt's house happened to be next door, but the woman no longer lived there. Aunt Lil decided to rent the place and "find" herself in California. Then Florida. Then New York. Now Canada. Randy decided to visit Toronto over the summer break, even if Lil was crazy. Her first year of college warranted a vacation.
Hauling the bags out of the car, Randy made her way up the driveway. Idly, she wondered how Doctor McKay managed the two steps up to the front door. Knocking, she shifted the third bag from hand to hand to get a better grip.
There was no answer.
Ringing the doorbell, then waiting, hoping there was nothing amiss on the other side of the door. When there was still no answer, Randy tried the knob. Pushing the door open, she called out.
Nothing.
"Hi, anyone home?" she repeated. Grabbing the bags, she made her way to the kitchen and set the items on the table. "Hello?" Randy took a chance, heading in the direction of the bedrooms.
The whole house was stuffy and eerily still. Light snoring greeted her at the second bedroom. Rodney lay on the bed, flat on his back, and snoring peacefully. John was curled in an oversized wing chair near the window, and sleeping not so peacefully, a cell phone precariously placed on his knee.
Making a light shuffling noise, Randy made sure she was out of kicking range of John. She had a cousin who had PTSD; a narrowly missed punch taught her well. "Hello?" the girl whispered.
Confirming her theory, John leapt out of the chair, wielding a bat that magically appeared. "Randy!" Sitting down heavily, John put his hand over his pale, pale face. "Sorry! I didn't hear – sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I know a little about PTSD, so I kept my distance."
Looking at her between his fingers, John gave a sad smile. As he leaned back, he took deep breaths, closing his eyes; he made Randy tired just looking at him. Unsteadily rising from the chair, John put a hand on McKay's forehead, frowning.
"Dammit, McKay," he muttered. Scrubbing a hand over his face again, John turned to his visitor. "Hey, would you mind putting away those groceries? I gotta wake him up for food and meds."
Randy gave a nod, glancing back at Rodney. "Not easy to wake up, huh?"
"That's an understatement," the colonel said as he limped towards the door.
She held up a hand to stop him. "I'm off work now, so I have time to help if you need it." Randy felt like the words came out before she thought them through. What am I getting myself into?
John seemed to be indecisive, glancing between the store clerk and his best friend. "I don't wanna burden you. Honestly, I could use your help for a few minutes."
Randy nodded, waiting for his instructions. She took the opportunity to observe John while he shuffled closer to Rodney. He asked for a thermometer, a glass of water, and all of Rodney's pills. Exiting the room, she quickly got the items, then returned to put away the groceries.
The refrigerator had one magnet and a single note under it.
In case of emergency, please call Carolyn Lam at 719-555-1515, ext. 922.
Randy filed that information away, returning to the bedroom. At least if there was a problem, they had someone to call. When she entered, Randy saw John waking Rodney, who mumbled and flapped his bandaged hands. The bandage around his head was gone, leaving only a butterfly bandage keeping stitches together. Rodney's thinning hair was sweat-matted and sticking up in all directions.
"Come on, buddy. It's time for some food and your meds," John said quietly. He held his casted arm close to his chest; he looked on the verge of collapsing.
Randy moved forward to help, making the mistake of touching Rodney. She found herself weakly shoved away; the feeling of rejection hurt worse than the blow.
"I can do this! He's my responsibility! I have to take care of him," John gritted, all color drained from his face.
"Yeah, I get that, Mister Sheppard. But you're not doin' so hot right now."
"Wha's matter?" Rodney muttered from below. He turned around looking from John to Randy. "Sheppard? What are you doing up? Go to bed!"
John smiled, looking relieved and exhausted. "Hey, buddy. You scared me for a while." His breathing hitched while he fumbled backwards to the chair. Looking guiltily at Randy, John held his smile. "Sorry 'bout the pushing. I just... well, I–"
"Did he do the whole protecting thing?" Rodney asked, his eyes never leaving John. "I hate when he does that."
Randy shrugged. "It's all right. I should've asked first." She moved to the night stand, doling out medicine. "You take those, and I'll make you something to eat. You," she pointed at John, "come with me."
John slowly rose from his chair, and followed her out of the room. "Am I in trouble?"
"I can't begin to tell you how much." Randy led him back to the first bedroom. She was surprised to see the bed seemed untouched. "Where have you been sleeping?" She wondered aloud.
John shrugged, and winced. "Wherever. Look, I –"
"Save your breath, Mister Sheppard. I know your type. Lived with two of them most of my life." Randy pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows. John and her father had similar traits, always thinking everyone needed protecting. "Now, it's time to take a nap. I picked up your prescription, and you're going to take your medicine."
John smiled sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am," he said, giving her a sloppy salute. Gingerly, he lay down, sighing as he closed his eyes. "If you're gonna be bossy, I guess you better call me John."
"Will do," she said, leaving in search of a little white bag. When Randy returned, she was surprised to see John asleep. But something wasn't right. No time to panic, girl. Assess the situation, and make a decision. The colonel was so pale, he looked grey against the blue sheets. She could see his pulse hammering along his jugular. Randy immediately left in search of a thermometer.
"Hey, is he okay? He looked bad," Rodney mumbled. John wasn't the only one who looked bad. "He gets kind of wrapped up in things, so I'm guessing he hasn't slept."
Randy shook her head. "I don't know. From the looks of it, I bet he hasn't. He's been worried about you."
"Does he – He's got a bad fever doesn't he? I knew it would happen sooner or later." Rodney shifted to his right side. "There's a number on the fridge. Can you call? I think we're gonna need her."
"I'm on it." She picked up John's phone, and shoved it in her pocket. "Let me take care of this first, then I'll call. Did you take your meds?"
Rolling his eyes, Rodney gaze turned into a glare. Randy had a feeling he used this expression to wither other people. He obviously didn't know Miranda Chase. She smiled and winked before she left his room.
Returning to John's room, she found him curled on his right side, eyes squeezed painfully shut. How did they think they would be able to get better without proper attention? "Hey, John? You okay?"
He opened his eyes, squinting against the afternoon light. "Been better. I could use some water, though."
"Coming right up. Mind if I take your temp first?"
John narrowed his eyes, then glanced in the direction of Rodney's room. "Fine," he mumbled. When he heard the beep, John closed his eyes. "I know it looks bad, but we really can take care of ourselves. It wasn't like this two days ago."
Randy blinked at his explanation. John Sheppard didn't seem the type to justify his actions. "You must not be feelin' so great. I think you just made a confession." His eyes popped open, and he gave a lopsided smile. If he wasn't rivaling the white walls for color, Randy would say he was more than handsome. "Sorry, John. That may work on lesser women. Take these and rest. I'm going to make Rodney something to eat."
This time, John gave a genuine smile after swallowing the pills. He settled back on the pillows with a deep breath. "Thanks."
"No worries." Randy tip-toed back to Rodney, and found him wheeling his chair out of the room. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked quietly.
"I'm going to wait for Carolyn. And I could use some air."
She stepped aside; Rodney McKay looked more than worried as he glanced into the next room. "I'll call now, then we'll have that snack."
McKay turned his attention to her, as if examining something very closely. "Look, I appreciate what you're doing, but it's not necessary. We've been coping; today was just a bad day. You really don't have to stick around."
Randy dropped her gaze to the phone in her hand. What was with these guys? "Thanks for letting me know. I hadn't planned on anything beyond helping you today." Stubborn men.
"Sorry. It's just that... well..."
"Mister McKay –"
"Doctor –"
"Doctor McKay, I'm getting the impression you might think I want something from you."
"Nononono! Well, maybe. Do you?"
Randy laughed. "What could you possibly offer me? After the last time we met, I figured I owed you." Recognition dawned in his expressive blue eyes; she knew whatever was going on with these two, they were in need of some serious help. "I'll finish what I promised, and then I'll be out of your hair."
"Wait! No! Sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful." He waved his bandaged hands. "Trust issues."
"So you do work for the military," Randy stated. "Say no more. You call the doctor, and I'll be on my way."
Rodney glanced between the phone and his new helper. "Don't be ridiculous. You owe me a meal." He fished around in his pockets and pulled out fingerless racing gloves.
"Nice gloves. Easier on the hands?" she said, tilting her chin in the direction of his wheelchair.
He smiled fondly. "John bought them for me. And they've made a world of difference, too." Turning his chair towards the kitchen, Rodney cleared his throat. "Open the front door, and dial Carolyn. Tell her we need her pronto."
Pronto? "Will do, Doc." She dialed the number, expecting a long wait. Dealing with her cousin, Randy often had to call Vet hospitals looking for doctors to help.
It rang once.
"John? It's about time," a woman's voice admonished.
"Um, hi," the girl stammered. "My name is Randy. I'm calling on behalf of Rodney and John."
There was a pause on the other end. "Nice to meet you Randy. I'm guessing they're in a little trouble."
"To say the least, ma'am. Rodney considers this an emergency." Randy glanced at the apprehensive man as he sat twisting a loose end of gauze. Rattling off vitals she committed to memory, she paced the short foyer.
"When did you take mine?" Rodney complained. "You didn't even touch me. How would –"
"Shh!" Randy was listening closely to the medical doctor. "Yes, Doctor Lam. That was him."
"Tell him I want him to be in bed in the next ten minutes. Or else."
Randy relayed the message to the man in the wheelchair. She smothered a laugh when Rodney's blue eyes went wide. He's totally afraid of her!
"I'll be there soon. Has Rodney eaten yet?"
"Making a snack now. Anything else?"
"I'll be there soon," Carolyn repeated, obviously smiling as she hung up.
Randy flipped the phone close, eyeing her charge who glanced nervously out the window. "She'll be here soon, so you need to go back to bed. Soup or oatmeal?"
"What?" Rodney collected his thoughts, visibly switching gears. "Uh, soup, I guess."
"Okay, good. At least I know I can't burn that," she said cheerfully, steering Rodney towards his room.
"I hate soup," the cranky man groused. "When we go back home, I'm never touching it ever again."
"Well, if you don't eat your soup, you can't have the extra special ice cream."
"Ice cream? There's ice cream? I want that instead."
"Sorry, mister. I'm on strict orders. Colonel Sheppard says so."
Rodney snorted. "He's so not the boss of me." Tilting his head, he smiled. "If we let it melt, it'll be soup."
"Nice try, Doctor McKay." She pulled the covers over the man, ignoring protests. "I got some different types of soup, too. You might like these."
"I hardly think so. Soup is soup."
Randy laughed, parking the wheelchair on the other side of the room. After pointing a severe finger, she exited the room.
Passing the first room, she quickly glanced over her first patient. She made sure John was sleeping comfortably, and continued to the kitchen. Warming the soup, Randy smiled at a memory. These were slightly more expensive than the name brands; Chad had a conniption fit over the price. But Rosie was adamant, and they're still the best sellers in the whole store.
Dishing up a bowl, Randy placed it on a lap tray. It wasn't until her cousin was sick that she understood the true benefits of trays. She filled a glass with cool water, and walked slowly to Rodney's bedroom.
He sat upright against the headboard, flipping through a magazine, wielding a red pen, and frowning. "No, no, no. Once again, Neil, you shame the scientific community."
Randy's brows raised. As in... "Yeah, first Pluto, now all astronomy, huh?"
The crooked frown lifted on one side. "I feel bad for Pluto, actually. I mean, as much as one can feel emotion for a planet. Or in this case, a dwarf planet."
"Right. It's okay though. Your secret's safe with me." As Randy placed the tray over his lap, a knock sounded at the front door. She pretended not to notice the man flinch at the sound. "I'll be back."
Dashing to the front door, Randy glanced through the sheer curtains. A woman barely taller than herself stood on the porch, glancing around the street as she waited.
Randy opened the door, smiling her best greeter's smile. "Can I help you?"
"Hi," the woman replied, offering her hand. "I'm Doctor Carolyn Lam. You must be Randy."
"Yes, ma'am. Come on in." The store clerk led her to the second bedroom first. "Here's Doctor McKay's room. I'm sure you'll wanna talk to him first."
Carolyn nodded, walking into the sunny room. "Rodney. How are you?"
Instead of answering, the man scowled. "How do you think? Busted hands, busted head... It's truly amazing I'm not drooling on my pillow right now."
Waving a dismissive hand, the doctor perched herself on the edge of the bed. "No need to thank me, Rodney. Carson did most of the work."
McKay huffed, trying to fold his arms across his chest. Giving up, he folded them in his lap. "He finally got his degree in voo doo medicine, and now he's botching bone setting. How did he get that job again in At– the base?"
"Careful, Rodney. Your pressure's already higher than I'd like."
Before McKay could launch into another rant, Randy quickly removed the tray. "I'll just be going. Call me if you need anything from the store, Doctor McKay."
"Where are you going?"
Randy blinked at the frown marring otherwise smooth features. "Well, I can't stay here all night. Gotta study."
"What are you studying? I can help you in probably any subject. Except maybe Social Studies."
Carolyn chuckled, turning his bandaged hand in her own. "I need to change these, Rodney."
"Yes, yes. So how 'bout it? You still owe me a meal."
Randy couldn't help laughing at his blunt comments. "For one thing, it's nursing. For another, how do you figure I owe you a meal?"
"I think we'll call it a draw," a new voice announced. John stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking only a tiny bit better. He had donned a plaid green flannel shirt that hung loosely around his lanky frame. Grinning, he stepped into the room. "Hey, Carolyn."
"Don't 'hey' me, Colonel Sheppard. You're next, so I suggest you saunter back to your room."
"Ha!" Rodney exclaimed. "She noticed you saunter, too! I told him this numerous times, and he still doesn't believe me."
Narrowing his eyes, John gave a wolfish smile. "No extra special ice cream for you," he said, promptly leaving the room.
"What?" Rodney asked tentatively, apprehension ringing in his voice.
Randy felt like she had stepped onto some sitcom set. Shrugging, she walked out of the room, tray in hand. Behind, she listened to Rodney complain about "ice cream threats."
Washing the sink full of dishes, Randy mused on her former homelife. Her father and her cousin were a lot like John and Rodney, constantly bickering over everything. However, when the two of them collaborated on something, watch out. There was no stopping them once they put a plan in motion.
Happy thoughts turned to sad ones as she rinsed the last dish. Her cousin was now in Germany, and her dad had died right after graduation, three years ago. He had been sick for so long, she was glad when it was over. Shaking her head, Randy cleared her melancholy thoughts. She showed promise for a nice career in nursing, maybe even further.
Hearing Doctor Lam chastise both men, Randy smiled. One day, I'll be doing that.
"Hey, Randy," the doctor said quietly. "Mind if I get a glass of water?"
"Nope. Let me get a glass." Drying off one, she filled it with water.
Carolyn silently sipped while she gazed around the little house. "This place is adorable."
"Yeah, my aunt used to have one next door. I think they're just the right size."
"I agree." The doctor set the half empty glass on the counter. "So... nursing, huh?"
Randy blinked at the change of subject. "Yeah."
"Been in school for long?"
"No; just at the basics right now. I'm hoping to get into a more advanced class, since I know all that stuff."
Carolyn nodded. "I can tell, judging by your responses over the phone. Technical college in the Springs?"
"Yeah. I got a little help from the Air Force because of my dad. Thanks to him, most of my next semester is paid."
"That's great." The doctor wistfully gazed out the window. "I remember my first year. It was absolute hell. Then something clicked, and I knew that's what I wanted to do."
Nodding, Randy could empathize. "I took care of my dad for a long time, so that cinched it for me."
Carolyn's gaze narrowed; she smiled at the girl's honesty. "I see. You know, anytime you get stuck, you can give me a call."
"Boy, are you gonna regret that!"
They shared a laugh, then made their way back toward the rooms. Both men were sleeping soundly, much to the doctor's relief.
"I'll come by tomorrow to see how they're doing." Carolyn glanced at her new acquaintance. "You?"
Randy shrugged. "Maybe after work, if I'm not working a double. Apparently, I owe someone a meal."
"I have only one bit of advice: No citrus."
"I heard. The first time I met Doctor McKay, he had protested loudly about pouring his death in the middle of the night."
Carolyn laughed, head thrown back as it echoed in the dim foyer. "I can totally hear him say that. John loves orange juice." With her hand on the knob, the doctor took one last glance over her shoulder. "Catch you later, Miss Chase." Then she exited the house.
Thinking back, Randy hadn't seen another car parked at the house other than her own. And when did I tell her my last name?
Wandering bewildered into the kitchen, she covered the soup on the stove; hopefully, someone would finish it off tonight. Randy lined up all the medication, organized by name and dosage, and placed them on opposite counters so John could easily access them.
Scribbling a note, Randy placed it on the refrigerator. She flipped on the kitchen and bathroom light, knowing it would likely be after dark when either of them rose. After locking the door, Miranda Chase slipped out into the cooler air.
It was going to be a pretty sunset.
oOoOoOo
Two weeks later, Randy got a curious letter in the mail. It stated that she now had a full ride for not only her technical school, but also a scholarship for the best school in Colorado Springs to continue her education.
With a smile on her face, she went to work. Randy didn't even mind that the mouth-breather, Chad, left for the afternoon. Pushing a broom near the entrance, she noticed her boss, Rosie hugging a tall, dark-haired man.
John?
The automatic doors slid open, completely ruining her spying.
"Um... Hey, Rosie. Hey, John."
"Miranda, I see my nephew has left you once again." The older woman walked closer to her employee. "I'm here now, so we can change those endcaps." Winking, Rosie patted her shoulder, walking into the store.
Turning her attention to a healthier John Sheppard, Randy smiled at the handsome colonel. "So what brings you back here?"
The colonel shrugged. "Rodney requires snacks."
They entered the store, and Randy pointed him in the direction of the snack aisle.
When he returned, the basket was filled with every sweet and salty snack the store could offer. Smiling, John dared her to comment.
Instead, she gave a total, and helped him out to the car with his bounty.
"Ya know, I got this letter in the mail yesterday."
"Oh yeah? Good news?"
Randy eyed the taller man. Sheppard probably didn't know about the scholarship, but she knew a person couldn't become a colonel without having a decent poker face. John Sheppard had one of the best, but Randy could see mischief in those eyes.
"Great news, in fact. Got a full ride at a nice college in the Springs."
"Really? Congratulations!"
Yep. Poker face. Randy stuck out her hand. "Been nice meeting you, Colonel Sheppard."
Shaking her hand, Sheppard's lopsided smile became a grin. "You too, kid. Sorry McKay couldn't be here, but I made him take a nap."
Nodding, the store clerk smiled. "Grumpy passengers and road trips do not mix."
"You have no idea the levels which McKay can reach." Pulling out his keys, John walked around the snack-filled truck. "Good luck!"
Waving, Randy returned to the store. "Back to normal," she announced to no one in particular.
OooOoOo
The end!