Disclaimer: I own Kavan Smith and therefore can do what I like with .... no wait ... I don't own Kavan Smith, or Stargate: Atlantis, or anything cool and interesting... well, my Mug collection is pretty awesome, and then there's my collection of ... you know what, nevermind. Anyway, this here fan fic is purely for fun.

As always, I owe mountains of wagon wheels and other such goodies to my beta's Jayne Perry and Ferryman aka Mirth, who knowing how lazy I am, keep me on the right path AND correct all my mistooks and splelng errors!

This story is for Mackenziesmomma in honour of St. Kavan's Day

And on the Seventh day

Day One - Saturday

"Parrish, damnit," Major Evan Lorne growled through gritted teeth. "Give me your hand." It was times like these that Lorne wished he had succumbed to his mothers pleas and gone to art school instead of joining the Air Force. Because never, in a thousand life times, would he have found himself precariously hanging over the edge of a cliff, holding on to an acrophobic botanist by the wrist with one hand, with the other wrapped desperately around a thorn covered trunk of a handy sapling-like growth, if he were, hopefully, a famous artist, although, right now, he'd take being a poor starving one.

"Parrish," he called again, resisting the urge to shake the man. "Parrish, give me your hand. I can't hold on for much longer," he pleaded.

But the man below him was frozen in fear. Unaware that his salvation was hanging desperately onto his wrist.

Lorne started to despair.

He couldn't pull Parrish up one handed, too much of his body overhung the cliff to allow him to let go of the sapling and use his other hand to help pull the near catatonic man up to safety. He didn't even dare let go of the sapling for the mere second it would take to active his radio to inform the rest of his team where he was. Their radio messages getting more frantic at his and Parrish's continued silence.

There was no choice.

He would have to hang on for as long as he could in the hope that his team found them before his arm went completely numb or separated from his shoulder. Before he made that last ditch desperate attempt to save Parrish by letting go of the sapling, knowing full well that he would never manoeuvre his legs into position fast enough before Parrish's dead weight and his awkward angle plunged them into the depths of the canyon below.

"Parrish, please," he begged. He gritted his teeth against the agony in his shoulder, blood roared through his ears, blocking everything else out. He screwed his eyes shut as he concentrated on ignoring the pain, in keeping his cramping hand tightly around Parrish's wrist, tightening his grip on the sapling, thorn's digging deeper.

"Just a few more minutes, Parrish. Just a few more minutes," he whispered out over and over again, the words becoming a manta.

Then the weight was gone.

"No!" Lorne cried out, his eyes snapping open, his hand letting go of the sapling as he made a frantic attempt to grab Parrish, only to grasp thin air. "Parrish!"

"Sir! Major, we've got him," a voice said above him. Lorne twisted round, suddenly aware of a tight grip on his shoulder as he looked up into the face of his 2IC.

"Baker?" he gasped out.

"Sir," Baker replied with a smile. "Parrish is okay. We've got him." He moved further away from the cliff edge, taking an unresisting Lorne with him, as a prone Parrish came into view, being tended by their fourth team member, Sergeant Meeks.

Lorne flopped onto his back, closing his eyes as relief surged through him.

"Parrish is starting to respond, but it might be best to fetch a jumper, don't think he'll make it to the gate, Sir," Baker said.

Lorne opened his eyes and nodded. "Good idea," he replied.

"Don't think you'll make it to the gate either," Baker chuckled.

Lorne gave a wry smile as he closed his eyes again. "Not so much," he agreed.

"He'll be fine, lad," Carson said again. "His responses are good. Just needs a wee bit of rest."

Lorne nodded, his eyes fixed on his hand as the nurse finished bandaging it. The thorns from the sapling having ripped and torn the tender flesh. He looked up as Carson squeezed his shoulder. "You're staying overnight too," Carson informed him with a broad smile.

Lorne frowned. "Doc, I don't ..." he started to protest, cutting his words off as Carson folded his arms across his chest and looked down at him. Lorne sighed. It was never a good thing to argue with the Chief Medical Officer. "Okay," he agreed, if somewhat sullenly.

"There's a good lad," Carson smiled. "Once Kass has finished wrapping your hand, she'll help you settle in for the night."

"Of course, Doctor," Kass replied, as she applied the last bit of tape, smiling at Lorne.

"Right then, I'll leave you in Kass' capable hands," Carson said, walking off toward his office.

"Don't worry," Kass reassured him with a smile, "it won't be that bad."

Lorne looked into the pretty face of the nurse and smiled back.

"No, "he replied. "I guess it won't."