If Belle Gold had a job on his ship, Rush didn't see it. Someone (Eli, probably) joked once that she was their Chief Morale Officer. The title stuck.
She kept a lot of people sane. Belle told them stories, sang songs to keep the crew entertained, and looked for recreational souvenirs when they dialed a gate. She'd taken the initiative to replant a pine-like tree in the hydroponics lab, after a lot of complaining from Brody. When they'd been able to celebrate something like Christmas together, decorated with tubing and broken bits of Destiny, it had been like a small miracle to Chloe.
The ship even had chess sets and checker boards now, chalked on to the surface a few tables and carved from soft stone she had retrieved.
That was how Rush got to know her. She looked pained the first time he sat down, but a quiet campaign of strategy seemed to set her at ease again. Belle Gold played chess like a master-mind. Rush came the closest to beating her, out of everybody, but the best he'd ever produced was a stalemate.
They played regularly, now, each one enjoying the challenge when the world wasn't falling apart around them. They even talked a bit — she said she learned to play as a child and sharpened her skills against her husband, the kind of man who was always so many moves ahead that it really wasn't even worth playing. Finally, she told him that her Mr. Gold was dead and he respected her need to keep wearing a wedding ring.
Despite having no one on Earth whom she clamors to see, Belle is the first person Rush approaches when he needs to contact Dr. Perry. If anyone can handle quadriplegia for three weeks, it's her. She says she'll probably take the time to read — or be read to, as the case may be. More to the point, she's non-essential personnel and they can trust her not to compromise their position with Command. Young approves, and they make the exchange.
Then they're drunk, or — at least — they have been drinking. Brody's swill is strong stuff. And he remembers Gloria, but he loves Mandy. Loves his Little Miss Brilliant. Seeing her in Belle's body - someone beautiful who's never so much as scowled at him, has never given him a distasteful memory - he gives in to her pleas.
Mandy approaches it from a place of entitlement, and he can't really blame her. This will be the only time in her life, probably, when she will be able to experience the act of physical love. Isn't there some old saying? It's what's on the inside that counts.
They're wrapped up in each other, enjoying a long, slow build-up, when the engines glitch. They don't drop out of FTL, but it wobbles slightly, and for 7 seconds Nicholas Rush is in hell.
Belle is confused, then crying. She tries to push him away, hits him, demands to know what he's been doing to her body. She's trying desperately to cover herself, but there's nothing there that he hasn't already seen.
When Mandy returns, Belle's body relaxes and her face looks grim.
"What was that?"
"Just a small hitch in the FTL drive. Colonel Young or Eli will radio if there's an emergency."
"So can we…" her eyes drift to him, full of wonder and wanting, and he feels his body begin to respond in anticipation.
Rush thinks about it, and he weighs the risk. He hadn't thought Belle would catch him at it; they'd been careful not to alert the crew with any type of PDA. But now Belle knew. How long before she could contact Command and sever the connection? Probably at least 20 or 30 minutes, and then his Mandy might be gone for quite some time.
Or maybe not. Legally, her body was Mandy's and vice versa. That included "bedroom activities." There was, however, an unspoken rule among the crew that certain liberties be avoided out of decency... No, Star Gate Command wouldn't deny them essential personnel just because one civilian complained. She'd signed those rights away.
He took a few seconds to explain to Mandy, and then he kissed her again.