WHAT ARE THE ODDS? REALLY?

"What the hell?" Dr. Rodney McKay yelled as he ran from screaming villagers and flying arrows. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was picking up the rear, covering their six, though that was an effort that this time would have been far more effective with more than one man. Watching Rodney run, even under these circumstances, always made John smile. Running was not one of the things McKay did well. Or elegantly. 'Flail' was the word that came to mind. He certainly wasn't the most physical member of the Atlantis expedition, McKay being far more interested in flexing his muscle to grab for something chocolaty than in anything remotely resembling exercise. Usually it wasn't necessary for Rodney to show that kind of muscle. It was way more important for the genius to impress by flexing those amazing brain cells than to show off his sprinting skills.

Usually.

Right now, John would be far more impressed if Rodney's sprint mirrored that of Justin Gatlin, with or without the steroids. Or maybe the Canadian in McKay would prefer a Ben Johnson reference? Sometimes it was a whole lot better being in another galaxy and not having to deal with the disappointment in big-time sports today, and just about everywhere else you looked these days. Of course, that was only when you weren't running for your lives.

"You've got to move it, McKay," Sheppard called as he came close to tripping on the physicist's ankles.

"I'm moving," Rodney huffed. They were both having trouble seeing where their feet landed, the dappled sun shining through the myriad of colored leaves making the way forward difficult at best.

"Move faster," John shouted as he ran backwards in an attempt to keep an eye on the natives and their sharp weapons. They weren't sophisticated, these bows and arrows, and the archers weren't especially adept, but they would do harm if they landed wrong. Sheppard found it hard to justify returned fire, their own weapons seeming a spectacularly unfair advantage, especially in light of the fact that they were being chased due to an unfortunate misunderstanding. Who would have thought 'Bite me', clearly said in jest, and aimed at McKay, would have brought on such a negative reaction?

"Need I remind you of the laws of physics, Colonel?"

Rodney seemed to pick up a little bit of speed. It was probably just an illusion, or wishful thinking on John's part.

"It's not physics, McKay. It's physically fit…not!"

"Very funny. Inappropriate humor," Rodney said, heaving breaths. "I'll have to add that to my list," he said under his breath.

"What list?" John saw Teyla and Ronon ahead, the gate open and waiting to embrace them.

Rodney turned to look at Sheppard. Scowling, he said, "Never mind."

"I'll find out. You know I always find out."

McKay dug in hard, reaching for his last reserves to make it to the gate as fast as possible, though his thoughts were momentarily sidetracked by two things: 1) why had he said anything about that damnable list, and 2) who the hell was Sheppard's source of information, because the man was right, he always did manage to know more than he should.

For now, McKay just wished that Sheppard would shut the hell up. All this talking was wasting valuable oxygen, and was more than distracting with crazy natives attacking their collective asses.

"Stop talk…oomph."

John turned to look at McKay, waiting for him to continue talking, wishing that the 'oomph' he just heard was merely Rodney tripping or having a branch slap him too hard in the face.

If wishes were horses…

Sheppard found a slowing McKay trying to reach for an arrow that now stuck through his upper left arm.

"I have got shit for luck," Rodney complained.

John grabbed him around the waist and forced him forward. "We don't have the time to contemplate that right now, Rodney," Sheppard said as they closed in on the gate.

They ran, fairly certain now that they would make it through the gate alive. Rodney's step was faltering, but the villagers seemed satisfied that they were heading off of their planet.

"No, I suppose not," Rodney answered, his voice suddenly sounding tired and worn rather than the preferred anxious and stressed. "But really, two arrows in six months. The odds. I ask you, what are the odds?" Now that sounded more like his McKay, though in reality, if things had been normal, Rodney would have had that answer ready before even asking the question.

"Come on!" Ronon yelled.

"Dr. Weir, we are coming through," Teyla announced.

"Hot," John added, struggling to keep Rodney on his feet.

Teyla went through the gate first, followed by Sheppard and McKay. Ronon came next, still angry at Sheppard's order not to fire on the natives. Once he made it through, Ronon bellowed, "Raise the shield," just as an arrow flew through the shimmering event horizon and clattered loudly as it landed on the hard floor of Atlantis.

Rodney held on to John, trying to remain upright; he didn't want to cause his team any more trouble than catching an arrow already had.

"It's okay, Rodney. We're safe," John said as he tried to ease McKay to the floor. "Call Beckett!" he yelled, not knowing whether anyone had gotten to that part yet. Rodney's knees seemed locked in place, though his right hand was pulling harder and harder on John's vest. "Hey," John said gently as he took Rodney's hand and peeled his fingers from the vest. "Let's sit a minute, okay?"

Rodney looked John in the eyes, trusting that he could let go, that John wouldn't let him fall ingloriously to the floor.

"Sure," he said, leaning into Sheppard. "Sitting sounds good." He looked around the gate room. "Where's Carson?"

"He's comin'. Just sit. Relax." They both sat, John taking Rodney's upper body and easing his friend to rest against him. Rodney was breathing heavily, the exertion from their sprint to safety, the fear and shock of having an arrow embedded in his arm, the relief – all of these things were working against Dr. Rodney McKay, taking him close to hyperventilating.

"What happened?" Elizabeth Weir asked.

"Tell you at the de-briefing," Sheppard answered tersely, all of the colonel's attention solely on his ailing friend.

"Rodney?" John asked. "How you doin'?"

McKay looked like he was preparing to answer when suddenly his eyes went wide.

"Sick," he eked out just before throwing up. He leaned left in order to avoid heaving all over Sheppard, but the jostling on that side just made the sickness worse. John held him through all of it. Rodney finished just as Carson showed up.

"'Bout time," McKay said.

"Sorry," Dr. Carson Beckett said, looking truly sorry for having arrived less than two minutes after they had stepped through the gate.

"Kidding," Rodney apologized, his eyes closed.

"You're feeling dizzy, are you Rodney?" Beckett asked as he cut away the cloth around the arrow's shaft.

"Dizzy," Rodney answered, and then shivered. "And cold," he grinned awkwardly, as though he knew he wouldn't get away with denying it even if he wanted to. Carson shook his head, amused and amazed that Rodney McKay would be as calm and collected as he was in these circumstances. Sadly, practice did seem to make perfect after all; the scientist had spent far too much time in Beckett's care since arriving in the Pegasus Galaxy. John rubbed Rodney's good shoulder as Carson continued his triage.

"Are you hurt anywhere else? Hit your head?"

"Why do you think I hit my head?" He turned to Sheppard. "Am I acting funny?" And then he turned back to Beckett. "Isn't this enough?" he asked adamantly as he pointed to the arrow.

"You're not acting any funnier than normal," John answered with a forced grin.

"Oh, ha ha."

"And Carson's only trying to help," John chastised gently.

"Again, I was kidding with the," he paused, waved weakly at the arrow again, and said, "the thing that I said." He sighed dramatically. "What's a matter with you guys? Can't tell a joke when you see one?" Rodney giggled briefly and then blinked several times and tilted to his right. He trembled again and said, "Can I lie down?"

"Of course, Rodney. On this gurney. First let me give you a shot for the pain," Carson said as he looked to the orderlies to help prepare his patient for the shot and then for transport.

"'Kay." John and Carson exchanged worried looks.

"Carson, there is no other injury, except for maybe exhaustion from all that exertion."

Rodney snorted. "Again. Not Superman. Can't do everything." John looked somewhat chagrined, knowing that the ribbing about McKay's running skills had obviously hit a nerve with the injured man.

Why did he persist in kidding Rodney like that? It was true that he wanted McKay as fit as possible; the better to keep him alive and to keep him safe. But it wasn't like the man was in bad shape. Rodney had lost most of the extra weight that he'd brought to Atlantis. The scientist was looking pretty good these days. It was beyond time for Sheppard to find something else to kid McKay about, especially now that it was clear that Rodney was a little sensitive on the subject.

"Yeah. Sorry, buddy."

"No, don't be. I'd worry if you stopped makin' fun."

"Yeah, what would you have to complain about?"

"I'd find somethin'," Rodney smiled. He looked over to Carson. "Good drugs."

"Only the best for you, Rodney," Carson smiled as he helped situate his friend on the gurney. "Stay on your side," he added, clasping McKay's hand on his good side and tapping his cheek to make sure he was paying attention.

"I'll try," the scientist responded tiredly.

"We are right beside you, Rodney," Teyla said. "We will help you."

McKay didn't answer, the stress of these last minutes and the pain killer quieting him down. John Sheppard knew it was a good thing, but he preferred his McKay loud and obnoxious to this, thank you very much.

"Let's get moving. I'm taking him to the infirmary to stabilize him and then we're prepping for surgery."

"Carson, keep me posted," Elizabeth ordered, though her worried demeanor made it sound more like a plea.

"Will do, Elizabeth."

"What do you think, Carson?" John asked as they walked hurriedly beside the gurney.

"It looks a fairly clean in and out. I'm a wee bit worried about possible poisons on the arrowhead."

"Nah, they didn't seem the type," John answered, seemingly sure about that point. They walked a little further when Sheppard suddenly blurted, "Damn it! This so shouldn't have happened."

"We'll have to discuss that later," Beckett said as they entered the infirmary. "Go get cleaned up, get you and the rest of the team checked out. Get something to eat. Go rest up a bit. I'll call you when we're done."

"But you think he'll be okay?" John asked again, needing some kind of guarantee before he could leave the area, seeming more sad and lost than Carson ever remembered.

"He should be fine," Carson assured, grasping Sheppard's arm comfortingly. He smiled sadly and then turned to follow his patient.

HE WAKES, BRIEFLY

"Can I get something to eat? How many times do I have to ask? I am, like, third in command here."

"Third in command, are ye?"

The whining had started as soon as Rodney came out of the anesthesia. Carson's headache grew with each word uttered by his patient. Rodney McKay was lucky that Carson was his good friend. And Carson Beckett was lucky that Rodney would be nodding off again any time now, because thoughts of the best way to kill the man kept popping into his head.

"Well, okay, maybe not third in command. But, I'm pretty high up in the food chain. It can't be good to deny a sick and healing man sustenance."

"Rodney, you know how you are after surgery. It'll just come up again in a few minutes."

McKay sighed, defeated. "Yes, I know. This sucks. Why am I always starving?"

"I don't know," Carson said soothingly. "Why don't you go back to sleep. Your stomach will be more ready for food later."

"I'm not tired," he answered, his droopy eyes immediately contradicting the statement.

"You look pretty tired to me," Sheppard said as he approached McKay's bed. "Can I stay for a minute?" he asked Carson.

"One minute," Carson said, clearly unhappy with the colonel's presence.

"You would look tired too if you just got out of surgery for an arrow wound for the second time in six months."

"You didn't have surgery the last time, Rodney," Carson reminded.

"Procedure. Whatever," McKay said, his irritation smothered by a huge yawn. "Everybody else okay?" he asked his team leader.

"Yep. Once again, only you got hurt."

"Hm. Well, as long as we take turns," Rodney said, his eyes closing and his breathing headed toward sleep.

John looked at Rodney sadly, not answering because he knew that they really hadn't 'taken turns' of late. Sure, he had that whole Wraith feeding episode when Kolya held him hostage. That was bad. It probably easily counted as two turns. But just about every other mission lately, and even non-missions like the Puddle jumper sinking, had seen Sheppard's teammates hurt, Rodney getting the brunt of the injuries, usually.

Rodney McKay might have 'for shit' luck these days, but Sheppard's own ass was going to be in a sling once he emailed Jeannie Miller about this. Maybe he could push that off somehow. Is it possible that these databursts were draining too much energy from Atlantis? Energy that they could use for better things? After all, they did have the Daedalus. Sure, communications would take longer, but at least that didn't risk the safety of the expedition members the way unnecessary use of their primary power sources would. He'd have to have a chat with Elizabeth about that.

Sheppard felt a hand on his back.

"He's sleeping. He needs to rest," Carson noted as he walked John out of Rodney's room.

"He's okay, right? He seemed okay."

"He's fine. Everything went well. He'll need a acouple of few days, and then we'll start him on physical therapy. You should try not to monopolize his time the next couple of days. He needs to heal so that he can get started quickly on PT. Maybe you'd like to help with that, since you don't seem to want to leave him."

Sheppard didn't answer. Carson doubted that he'd even heard him. The colonel seemed more worried than ever, and very distracted.

"John?" Sheppard jumped and turned away from looking back at McKay.

"Yeah, Carson. Sorry. What'd you say?"

"Have a seat." They were at Beckett's office. It was clear to Carson that John was there in body only, that his mind had been somewhere else entirely. "Is there something wrong?"

John frowned. "Is there something wrong? Yeah, there's something wrong. This shit," he said, pointing back to where Rodney lay, "has got to stop."

"John, that seems unlikely, considering the danger we all face out here. Yours is the top off world team. Your risks will always be greater."

"Rodney doesn't have to face that danger. I think it's time we re-evaluated the make-up of our teams on exploratory missions."

"Hold on there, Colonel. Isn't that over-reacting a wee bit? Rodney is going to be fine. And he bloody well won't like being pulled from the team."

"Tell me, Carson. Isn't there a limit to how much abuse a body can take?"

Carson Beckett looked at John Sheppard worriedly. There probably was a limit, and for Carson's own preference, John and Rodney had already hit that threshold. But right now, Carson was far more worried about John's emotional state than he was about Rodney's physical one.

"All right. I think the fact that you asked that question says that you have reached a different kind of limit yourself." Beckett eyed Sheppard critically. "Have you slept since your return?"

"Slept? We've only been back a couple of hours, Carson."

"Five. You've been back five hours. Have your slept, rested at all?"

"No."

"Why?"

"God damn it, Carson!" John yelled, jumping from his seat. "I've been worried."

"About Rodney?" Carson countered calmly.

"Yes."

"Are Teyla and Ronon worried about Rodney? Is Elizabeth? What about Radek?"

John shook his head, frustrated with the third degree, irritated that Beckett remained so calm while his own agitation was tumbling rapidly out of control.

"Your point," he asked far more calmly than he felt.

"My point, John, is that no one else has spent the last five hours hovering around the infirmary, not eating, not cleaning up and not resting after a difficult mission. Elizabeth and Radek are both worried about Rodney and they have both been in contact, by radio. They understand that there is nothing to be done. You saw him just moments ago. He cannot stay awake for five minutes. He won't remember that conversation. Do you know how many times he's asked for food since the recovery room? I'd want to kill him if I didn't love him." Carson paused to give Sheppard a chance to absorb what he was saying. "Colonel, why are you here?"

John looked at Beckett, tired and desperate. Carson hadn't seen such pain on the face of someone who had not been physically injured in a very long time. John was suffering, pained by something. As the chief medical officer on the expedition, and John's friend, he needed to get the Air Force man to talk about this.

"John?"

"I…I," he started, looking down at his clasped hands, and then looking over toward where McKay slept. "He…um…he means a lot to me."

Carson waited. He knew there was more. There had to be more.

"He probably means more to me than I should allow." John looked up into Carson's caring eyes. "And I really can't say any more…"

"Bollocks. I'm not in your military, John Sheppard. I don't have to abide by its stupid rules. You can tell me. You damn well will tell me because I can see it's causing you more harm than good keepin' it inside. And don't forget, I love him, too. As a friend and as a brother. So if you're this conflicted, it's bound to come across to Rodney in a bad way. You need to work this out. Talk this out. Now's as good a time as any, with Rodney comfortably resting."

Carson watched as Sheppard struggled internally about what to do. John rubbed his face tiredly and then scrubbed his hands through his already wild, messy hair. He looked at Carson, again, finally, and said, "Okay. Let's talk."

"Good man. Why don't you catch a quick shower? I'll come pick you up at your quarters and we'll get something to eat. I doubt the commissary will be very busy right about now. We'll be able to find a place to talk privately."

John nodded. "Thanks, Carson." He headed toward the door.

"I'll pick you up in ten minutes," Carson warned.

"That's a real quick shower, Doc."

"You'll manage."

John looked back toward Rodney.

"John, I promise you. He will be fine. You, too, will want to kill him soon enough."

Sheppard smiled. "See you in a few."

THE FREAK OUT CONTINUES

Carson Beckett reckoned that a couple of bites of the sandwich and most of the carton of milk was a decent start. He'd expected to watch Sheppard move the food around on his plate. Or build things with it.

"So, you've fallen in love with Rodney McKay," Carson started lightly. "Poor man."

Sheppard didn't smile. It wasn't a good sign to Beckett that he couldn't find it in himself to smile at either the joke or the realization.

"Carson, this is serious. And I'm pretty sure it's going to turn out bad if I pursue it."

"There's a lot to be said for the power of positive thinking," the Scot replied sarcastically. "Maybe we could talk it through first before you make a hasty decision?"

"What's there to talk about? You already know the worst of it." John winced as he realized what he'd just said.

"The worst of it?" Carson questioned.

"I didn't mean it that way. I meant…oh, I don't know what the fuck I meant." Sheppard placed his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He continued, not looking up, "This is really the worst case scenario for me. Every strike is against me: I'm military, I care way too much for someone on my team, he's a guy, he's Rodney." He looked up at Atlantis' chief medical officer, a surprising smile on his face. "Okay, that last one's both a positive and a negative."

"What about him being a guy?" Carson queried.

"That, too. I mean, I don't have a problem with…that, per se," waving his hands, trying to make his point and recognizing he was failing miserably in doing it.

"I'd find that easier to believe if you could actually say 'that'."

"I didn't think…all this time, my whole life, I've been straight. I've always liked women. I love women. But lately…he…something's changed."

Carson listened as John talked. It was clear that John hadn't spoken about this before, his comments and his emotions were pretty raw. The physician could only imagine how complicated and confusing this realization had been for a man raised in the American military.

"Do you think just being out here, living with these unknowns, and almost dying several times, do you think that maybe what is important to you has changed? Or maybe, denying what is important to you is less important anymore?"

John nodded. "I've thought a lot of things, Carson. This is hard. I have got to lead these people."

Beckett reached his hand out and grabbed John's arm for emphasis. "What you decide and what you do doesn't have to be for public consumption, not initially, not until you say it should be. You were special ops, I'm sure you can handle a little stealth if you have to. I can assure you that Rodney will want that."

Sheppard laughed uncomfortably. "You think Rodney's going to want this?"

"Oh good god, man. You two are something else. Yes, John, he will want it. He will freak out, same as you, because he has convinced himself that the reality of you two together is something he would never have to deal with. It will be a shock for him, but please tell me you aren't so oblivious that you don't know that he cares for ye deeply?"

"Gee, thanks. I think. And I'm sure Rodney thinks of me as his best friend."

"Good heavens. How did I end up with two friends who turned out to be such daft buggers?"

"Again, thanks."

"I am telling you to pursue this, John. I am telling you to be discrete. But I am also telling you that you two are meant to be, certainly at this time and place – in this galaxy. Do you not think that loving someone would make this," Carson waved his arm around to encompass all that they'd been through in their difficult time in the Pegasus Galaxy with that one simple sweep of his arm, "better?"

"I don't know. Right now, the way I feel, I think putting more distance between us might be better."

"That's only because you're tired and you're an idiot." Beckett stood and stretched. "Some sleep will take care of your first problem."

"Golly, thanks again, Doc. And my second problem?"

"I haven't decided that there is a solution for that. But I say that with affection, son," Carson replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, and with you as a friend…" John started with no intent to finish. He stood as well and they both walked toward the cafeteria exit.

"You could do far worse," Carson said conversationally.

Sheppard grabbed the physician's arm. "Carson, I appreciate your friendship. I don't know how…what…" he choked up, not able to get out the proper thank you that his friend deserved.

Beckett placed his arm around Sheppard's shoulder and hugged him. "It's okay. And it will be okay. What is it you military types say? For you and Rodney both, I've got your six."

AND HOW WILL IT END?

Rodney woke feeling surprisingly good. His arm was numb, which he deemed infinitely better than the alternative. He knew he would have a lovely time with the evil ones in physical therapy soon, but he knew he should once again consider himself lucky to be alive. Though his life had become more perilous than he'd ever dreamed it could be, it had also become so rewarding, and not just because of the thrilling science and exploration afforded him in this far away place.

He turned to his left and saw monitors, and Carson in the distance talking to one of the nurses. He turned right and found John Sheppard snoring in a chair a short distance away. He frowned, a little worried to see his team leader there; he didn't think he'd been that seriously injured to warrant the colonel's hovering presence, though hovering was probably not the best descriptive for the man's current state.

But there was something far more worrying to Rodney McKay at the moment: the pressing issue of his stomach growling, like crazy. It was bound to wake the colonel up at this rate, and Rodney really didn't want to do that; Sheppard looked like he could use another solid eight hours.

Alas, that was not to be. John woke and saw that Rodney was awake, too. He smiled, then yawned, and said, "Hey."

"Hey yourself." They stared at each other until the silence became uncomfortable. Rodney asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Sheppard squinted and then cocked his head, grinning slightly. "Now that's just weird. You and Beckett are more alike than you think."

"There's no call for being insulting, it was just a question," Rodney defended.

"I heard that," Carson called as he approached the two men.

"Carson!" they admonished in unison.

"Look, this is my infirmary and I'll come and go as I please. Let me check on my patient and then I'll leave you two alone."

Ten minutes later Carson was gone, Rodney had a tray in front of him and John had a look on his face that Rodney could label nothing short of disturbing.

"What?" McKay asked.

"What, what?" John answered unhelpfully.

"You are so frustrating. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Eat."

"I'm eating, but you're making me nervous," Rodney noted. "Carson will be most displeased if this meal doesn't stay down."

"Yeah, I heard you've had some trouble."

"Story of my life," McKay replied, working his way through the watered-down…oatmeal? "You'd think they would make just one form of anesthesia that I could tolerate."

"Well, you're sensitive," John answered quietly.

"Okay, talk about weird. You really are starting to freak me out. What's wrong?" The 'freak out' didn't seem to disrupt his appetite, though the food could easily have.

Sheppard pulled his chair up closer, so close that Rodney was tempted to lean back further into the pillow.

"We need to talk."

McKay ate, still enthusiastically, and said, "About?"

"Us, er, me." Rodney frowned. "Well, us, really." Rodney squinted, trying to read Sheppard's body language, because he certainly wasn't getting much out of him verbally. He saw pretty quickly in John's eyes what he was trying to say. Rodney's eyes opened wide, huge blue, somewhat frightened eyes responded to John's, recognition clear in their depths. He looked quickly around the infirmary. Nobody was near, nobody could hear, but the topic of discussion immediately turned his stomach from the alleged food on his plate.

"Your timing so totally sucks, you know that?" McKay said as he tossed the spoon onto the tray.

John saw that Rodney wouldn't be finishing his meal and was immediately apologetic.

"Ah, crap, McKay. I thought…shit. I'm sorry." He put his head down to his chest. "Fuck."

"Hey." Rodney tried to gain John's attention, though the colonel seemed intent to wallow in his own messed up thoughts. McKay yelled, "Hey!" and then added in a softer tone, "Pay attention. I, it was just, I was a little surprised. I'm always surprised. Of course, the fact that you're actually interested negates most everything on my list."

"What's with the damn list, McKay?"

"Calm down. It's just, it's my, you know, my way of dealing. I knew I could never have you, so I started this list of all of the reasons why you would be such a bad idea. For me."

"Really?"

"Really," Rodney assured. "It's a pretty long list."

"Hm." John paused. "Wait a minute. That really wasn't much of a freak out. Why aren't you more freaked out?"

"I was freaked out. But Carson gave me a heads up. He says you owe him, by the way. But I told him he was breathing too much ether and didn't think anything more about it." Rodney looked into John's eyes and smiled happily. "I guess he was right?"

Sheppard put his head down, snorted lightly and then looked up. "Amazing, huh?"

"For Captain Kirk? Uh, yeah."

John's face grew serious. "You know, we're gonna have to be careful."

Rodney didn't want John to bolt, because John Sheppard looked like he wanted to do nothing more than to run from this place. Not run from Rodney, but from dealing with this turn of events. McKay would have to be as delicate as he'd ever been with anything in his life. Being delicate with people had never been something he did well. Or at all, really. Give him a piece of tricky equipment, be it nuclear or Ancient, and he could act as though he was holding a newborn baby. He would need to remember to be more like that when dealing with Sheppard, at least for the next while.

"We can do that."

"I know we can."

"I, um, I've never…" Rodney started.

"Me either, Rodney."

"I'm not saying you have. But, um, good."

"Maybe it's good," John said, frowning.

"No, it's good. We'll figure it out," Rodney insisted.

"Sure we will," John agreed with a smile. "We're smart guys."

"Some of the smartest," Rodney assured with a lopsided grin.

"Maybe smart isn't what we need to figure this out," John stated a little worry in his tone.

"Maybe. It doesn't hurt," Rodney said knowingly.

"Ahem."

McKay and Sheppard jumped. Carson was standing at the foot of Rodney's bed, arms folded across his chest.

"You," Beckett said, pointing to Sheppard. "Out. And you," he added, now pointing at McKay. "Sleep. You didn't eat well, Rodney. With that ridiculous conversation, I'm not surprised." John started to leave. "Wait," Carson beckoned. "Come here." Beckett pushed Sheppard closer to the head of McKay's bed. "Kiss the man. Please? Nobody's around. You two are over-thinking this. I expected this with you, Rodney…"

"Hey!" Rodney replied indignantly.

"But Colonel, one would think you could apply your vast knowledge…"

"Hey," Sheppard answered, offended.

"Kiss. The. Man."

"Okay." John looked at Rodney. "Pushy, isn't he?"

"He's your friend."

"He was your friend first."

"Ach! You have two more minutes before my nurses come back from break." And then Carson Beckett was gone.

John looked down at Rodney. "Well," he smiled. "Let's try this." He leaned in and carefully placed his mouth on Rodney's. He put his elbow next to McKay's head and pressed into the expectant mouth, the weight firm but not hard. Rodney's lips were soft and pliable, and when John brushed his tongue just slightly between his own lips and onto Rodney's, it was as an open invitation. McKay opened his mouth, Sheppard did the same. It was natural. It was so right.

And clearly two of the smartest guys around would be able to figure out what to do next.

The End.