A/N: Chapter contains a tiny episode reference to Season 2's "Trinity". This is only meant to be a short fluffy story, so one more chapter should do it. Thanks for the comments on Pt 1, I appreciate them!

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Fortunately for the sake of her nervous friend, no one came to join them for dinner. Teyla was certain that Rodney would have manufactured an excuse why he needed to be elsewhere if anyone had. As it was, he picked at his meal in a distracted manner; gulping down the water she had insisted he take in place of his usual coffee as fast as humanly possible, with a grimace that suggested that the glass contained something noxious.

Teyla herself ate calmly, with delicate but rhythmic forkfuls. "I am very impressed with the fruit imported from your home world. I had no idea there would be such a wide variety."

"Mm," he grunted, popping a ripe cherry into his mouth. "With the exception of strawberries, and citrus of course, I like most of it, too. I never really appreciated fresh fruit until I came to Atlantis and had nothing but the goopy, fake-sweetened, tinned stuff for a year."

He reached across the table, intending to sneak a temptingly plump grape from the edge of Teyla's plate, and suddenly hissed and gripped the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grasp, eyes squeezing shut with a sudden shock of pain.

"Rodney!" she said in alarm, grasping his wrist. "Should I call for medical assistance?" Her free hand was already reaching to activate her radio.

"No," he grated, stopping her. Pulling in a shaky breath, he held it a moment and then slowly exhaled as the spasm eased. "I'm okay….it's… I'm okay."

Noting that he did not sound too sure, Teyla asked, "This has been happening often?"

"Often enough." He puffed a small disgruntled sigh. "I haven't slept more than a few hours all week. I went to see Carson when it first started but the stuff he prescribed hasn't done much good. It dulls the pain but it makes me feel like my brain is wrapped in cotton batting. Plus it gives me nightmares when I do sleep."

Reasonably, she asked, "Have you told him you are not reacting well to the medication? Perhaps Dr. Beckett can prescribe something else."

Rodney made a woeful face. "I'm allergic to half the stuff in the dispensary and the other half mostly knocks me on my ass. I can't work if I'm taking it."

"And you must work," she stated, the comment giving her an insight into the problem.

Things had been difficult and stressful for all the citizens of Atlantis lately, but Rodney McKay seemed to feel a great obligation to discover the solution to every problem they encountered. He groused and complained and ordered everyone around liked a petulant dictator on most days, but Teyla suspected that Rodney felt personally responsible for every failure, every injury, and sadly, every death his people experienced. After the failed Arcturus project earlier this year, it was as if he was certain that his much vaunted intelligence would be called into question at every turn, and his worth be lessened in the eyes of those he cared about if he dared to make a mistake or failed to push himself to the very edges of his endurance each day.

In trying to do right by everyone else, to make up for his own perceived wrongs, Rodney was causing himself great injury. It was, at the same time, very admirable and very foolish.

Understanding better now why he had accepted her offer of an alternative treatment for his pain, even when he was clearly doubtful that it would work, Teyla decided, "If you are through eating, I believe it would be best to begin your treatment. However, if the pain persists as we progress, I will insist that you pay another visit to Dr. Beckett."

Rodney simply nodded, the lack of argument causing Teyla to give his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

~*~*~*~*~

"Candles? Um, no I don't have anything like that. What do you need candles for?"

When she had suggested conducting this ritual in Rodney's quarters, Teyla had been thinking only of his comfort. It had not occurred to her that the appointments common to any Athosian dwelling would be absent here. Familiar surroundings tended to relax a person, but this did not seem a particularly welcoming place. There were documents hanging upon the wall, a couple of pictures on the tables, one of Rodney holding a certificate and another of an animal that she supposed must be the cat he occasionally spoke of. Scientific odds and ends cluttered the surfaces and a few items of clothing littered the floor. Other than that, there was nothing to suggest that anyone called these quarters home.

"The sight and scent of burning candles are soothing," she explained. "They help one concentrate on letting go the stresses of daily life."

Rodney snorted but tried to cover the sound with a small cough. She appreciated the effort, knowing that for a man so devoted to science, the notion of using aromatherapy and a meditative setting to assist in the lessening of pain must seem absurd.

"One of the female marines might have some," he guessed, "Or maybe one of Carson's lady doctors. Candles are kind of a girl thing."

"They are quite common among my people, both male and female, as they are with any people for whom artificial lighting is not the norm."

Rodney looked startled by her wry tone. "I didn't mean anything by that. Candlelight used to be the way to go for us too, a couple of centuries ago, but nowadays most candles are made to smell like flowers and stuff, so guys don't usually buy them."

"I see," she replied, and she did. It was a constant source of amusement to her that the people here were as gender-conscious as they were, even as they congratulated themselves on their inclusive and unisexual practices. "It is of no concern. There are many candles in my quarters, as well as a bottle of soothing oil and a couple of other items I will need. I will gather them and return. May I ask whether you own pajamas?"

His brow furrowed. "Pajamas?"

"Or some other type of loose-fitting garment," she said, looking him over and noting his tense posture and the almost shield-like quality of his long sleeved, high collared science department uniform. "It will help you to relax if you take a hot shower before we begin, then change into unrestrictive clothing. I will require access to the affected area and I wish for you to be comfortable."

When some of the tension left Rodney's shoulders and he let go a breath of what could only be relief, Teyla had to steel herself not to laugh. She suspected he had been worried that she would expect him to receive this treatment in the nude. Such a thing was not uncommon and certainly easier for the one providing the massage, but given Rodney's status as a friend, a teammate and an overly modest Earth male, she had never even considered it.

"I have some medical scrubs I swiped the last time I was confined to voodoo-land," he offered, smiling a little.

Teyla smiled back. "That will do perfectly."

TBC