AN: Set S3, post Cutter's death, and vaguely after the Grex episode…

"See, I'm perfectly fine." Connor said, swaying slightly on his feet. "Now would you stop fussin'? I 'ave a lot of work t.. t'do…" Before any of them could react, Connor went limp and slumped to the floor.

"Connor!" Abby exclaimed, rushing to pull his head into her lap. She felt for a pulse, and her whole body registered her relief when she found one, steady and slow, but he was not in any danger. Becker riased his eyebrows. "Daft idiot, when was the last time he took a break?" She muttered, then glared at Becker when he smiled a little. "C'mon, don't just stand there looking like an action figure! You think we should carry him?" Abby snapped, though her tone shifted by the end. Becker knew she was just worried about Connor. The man was over working himself, fixing the ADD and working on his anomaly locking mechanism as well as going out on anomaly calls with the rest of them.

"He didn't bump his head?" Becker asked, moving closer. She shook her head, and he wrapped an arm about Connor's waist, pulling one arm across his shoulders. Abby pulled Connor's other limp arm over her own shoulders and they stood, lifting him between them.

"Medic's wing, I think." Becker added. Abby shot him an exasperated look that he easily read, and instead touched his ear piece. "Sarah, can you tell Lester that the ADD's gonna be offline for a bit? Connor's done himself a number and passed out; we're taking him to the medic's now."

Sarah Paige's voice came over the line crackly in his ear.

"I told him to take a break and get something to eat an hour ago!"

"Sarah…"

"Right, right. He's not going to be happy."

"I'm sure you can deal with him. If you really must, find Jenny and tell her."

"Alright."

"Thanks." He said, flicking the off switch and then concentrated on helping Abby half drag her not-boyfriend-but-bestfriend to the Medic wing.

Connor woke with a splitting headache and a mouth that felt like he'd had cotton balls stuffed in it for a few hours. He groaned and opened his eyes, starign at the ceiling of the medic wing at the ARC. He'd been in there often enough, especially recently, to recognize it.

"Ahem." The medic's clearing of his throat made Connor startle a little, and he shifted until he was sitting up more on the cot, and attempted a smile.

"Hey, ah…"

"I'm guessing you're feeling a bit better for your rest, Mr. Temple?" The man said dryly. Connor flushed, muttering something about not needing it. "I understand why you're pushing yourself so hard, Mr. Temple, but there'll be no-one to carry on the Professor's work if you work yourself to death." Connor froze, eyes wide and an incredibly lost look on his face. The medic siged when the young man shut his eyes tightly for a moment, and then carried on, slipping off of the cot and stumbling to his feet. He sat down again after a moment.

"You have no idea how frightened Ms Maitland was when you fainted earlier…" Connor was shaking his head, as if denying that anyone should be worried about him. "You were out for two hours, and she was sitting in that chair waiting for you to wake up until I suggested she might have other things to do." The medic added, raising his eyebrows when Connor merely scowled and looked away.

"Probably just waitin; ta 'it me for bein' daft."

"That, and she cares about you." He told Connor, then bit his lip. Connor flashes him a wide-eyed gaze. "You're best mates, right? Whether or not she returns your feelings, she does still care for you."

Connor suddenly got to his feet again, managing to keep his balance, and mumbled a "thanks," his way before practically fleeing from the room.

He had a bad feeling this was going to become some sort of a theme around here.

The medic sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He hadn't known the Professor as well as he did the younger members of the team, but they had interacted to a certain extent.

"You better be keepin' an eye on your charge, Professor." He muttered under his breath.