1The Journal of Dr. McKay

A/N: Completion of the series. Rodney gets some, sort of. A couple mentioned in the reviews, that I am myself partial too.

He wakes up to swearing.

It is swearing in a soft, slightly mumbled voice, definitely feminine, but is none the less some of the most inventive he has ever heard. A particularly long and vicious stream makes him jerk into a sitting position, a complaint on the tip of his tongue... His forehead slams into something hard and unyielding. It is this, and the accompanying sound of a snort of laughter that finally drives it home to him that he is not in his room.

" Good morning, sleeping beauty."

He cracks an eye open cautiously, takes in the pale walls, the small beds, and the assorted sharp objects strewn around him. The medbay. Because he had, in what he was sure he would later recall as one of the more humiliating moment of his life, fainted. In front of Elizabeth. And Caldwell. He wonders absently who was talking to him earlier. He closes his eye, flops backwards, and opens his eyes again. As if to drive home his humiliation, he finds himself staring into the smirking picture of Cadman.

Well, that would be confirmation that he is, in fact, in the medbay. Carson had never really struck him as the type to hang big pictures of his girlfriends around his workplace, but, then again, the good doctor was dating -Cadman-. Who could blame him for having a life size pinup?

And then the picture winked at him, and sing-songed, " You're staring."

He manages, while considering the fact that he is either suffering from a serious head injury or she is actually in front of him, to choke out, " Excuse me?" He wonders, in the back of his mind, while he watches her poke around the drawers in the room, where the woman that was swearing earlier went. Strands of Cadman's pale hair have escaped from her ponytail, and fall like strings of light around her face. Her lips are curled up in the corners, and he realizes with sudden clarity that it was her swearing. And he should have realized that before. He shakes himself.

She meets his eyes again, " You. Are. Staring. At. Me."

And he is. And he can only now pray that she is a hallucination and that soon he will wake up and none of this will have happened. His eyes drift away from her damning smile, down to her hands, and it is then that he finally realizes that she is bleeding. He says, " You're bleeding," and blames the pointlessness of the statement on his head injury. She grins at him.

" I reopened a cut from a mission last week," She shrugs, and the movement fascinates him far more than he is comfortable with. " I can't find a needle anywhere." She kicks the nearest file cabinet, ignoring him as he gingerly gets off the bed and reaches into a cabinet above her head, his hand coming back with a case full of tiny sharp needles. There is thread in her uninjured hand, and he takes it from her, motions impatiently towards a bed. She looks at him, eyes shaded, and says, " What?"

" I'm a doctor. You know..." he makes vague, stabbing motions with the packet of needles, and she looks at him bemusedly.

" Not a medical doctor," she says it with a quick grin, but relents towards the bed nonetheless. He thinks, she's right, I'm not. But he has patched up Sheppard and Teyla, and even Ford once upon a time, more often than he likes to remember. John had heard doctor and assumed that the medical part was a given. She sinks onto the bed, bounces on it once and then flops onto her back. He is aware that he is staring again, and wonders faintly if his mouth has fallen open.

He is aware that she is beautiful.

In fact, it is one of the most clear, powerful, things that he has ever known. Beautiful. Beautiful hair, beautiful lips, beautiful skin, body...with, with, curves, and... He dimly hears the packet of needles clatter loudly to the floor, as he becomes suddenly engrossed in examining the strip of bare skin between her shirt and pants, and the tiny tattoo peeking out of her waistband. He knows he has no business looking at her like this, no right to be thinking the thoughts streamlining themselves through his mind.

Soft laughter makes him look at her in the eye as she props herself up on her elbows. She looks amused and rumpled, and motions him closer with her uninjured hand. He leans forward, oddly spellbound, and she keeps motioning till he has to reach over her and brace his arm on the bed by her hip. He is uncomfortably aware of their proximity, of her beneath him, of her lips as she says, " You're staring."

She stretches upward, places a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Rodney's mind is, for the first time he can remember, quiet.

She pulls back just a bit, stares up at him, and for the first time since he has met her she looks uncertain. And then that looks is gone, and she crushes her lips into his, her uninjured arm climbing up around his neck. His mind is still puzzlingly silent, and he kisses her back, feels his hand sliding to her hip without any conscious direction.

" It might be prudent to move to a more private location."

Teyla is looking bemused, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched and what might be the beginnings of a smile on her lips. Rodney is numbly aware that he just got caught kissing another man's lover, that said lover is even now stroking the hair at the base of his neck, and is close enough that her breasts are brushing against his chest each time she breaths. His brain is getting loud again, and he pulls away, feeling suddenly guilty and very, very, uncomfortable.

He brushes past Teyla, mumbling to himself as he makes his way desperately towards a cold shower, and possibly, a mind wipe of the last week.