Mercy Hospital was always abuzz with activity. The corridors were never abandoned, constantly full of random staff and visitors (not the alien kind, just people there to see the sick or wounded). This worked well in Ryan's favor as he drifted in and out of the priest's room, eyes peeled for any of the more unpleasant members of his species. Unconscious and immobile in a sickbed, still sedated from the surgery that had saved his life, Landry was an easy target.

Not that he had been able to avoid being attacked when he was at full health, but Ryan didn't fault him for not besting a trained alien assassin. For a man of his people's God, the priest had proven to be a decent fighter and had done a good job patching up the hole in Georgie's side. They needed multi-taskers, if the resistance was going to succeed.

The hole in Landry had been far more serious and, from what Ryan had overheard from a pair of interns (who for some reason were very disappointed that Landry was a priest), the surgeons had been forced to remove an internal organ. Fortunately, it was one of those odd redundant or otherwise unnecessary ones. To be honest, Ryan wasn't an expert on the internal anatomy of humans.

So far, things had been quiet and, though he had received a few funny looks, no one had questioned his presence. He decided, if asked, he'd say he was a concerned parishioner. It could work.

He was mulling over other potential covers when Agent Evans practically hurled herself out of the elevator beyond the nurses station. The blond woman looked around sharply and, upon catching sight of him, made a bee line down the hall.

"How is he?" she asked, clearly still agitated. From her demeanor, he assumed she had not gotten her son off of the V mother ship.

"Still out of it," he replied, indicating Landry's room with a hand and letting her precede him through the door. "Did your son…"

"No," she muttered angrily. "He likes it there. Doesn't want to talk to me. And I've been told by my superiors not to cause an inter-species incident and resolve this quietly."

Ryan nodded. "Anna's not going to want any bad press until it's too late," he said, watching as her attention was caught by the man in the bed.

She took a few steps toward Landry, then stopped and turned to Ryan, pulling something from her pocket. "As I was leaving, a V ran into me. Literally. He slipped me this."

Taking the offered paper and vial, Ryan scanned the note then peered at the vial. "This is worse than we thought," he said, handing the items back to her. "Basically, any medication will have to be suspect now."

Bothe of them looked over at Landry, sleeping under a haze of heavy sedation, antibiotics and antivirals coursing through his system.

"Who's Valarie?" Evans asked as she picked up the chart from the end of Landry's bed.

Ryan swallowed. "My fiancée," he said, then motioned to the door. "She's pregnant…I didn't think that was possible, but I have to go get her…explain…."

Evans looked at him. "She doesn't know about…" she hesitated, then gestured toward the window, up at the sky where the V ship hovered.

He shook his head. "I'll check in with you two later."

She nodded and he left the room. At this hour, despite being a Saturday, Valarie would be at her office, catching up on paperwork. Maybe he could pay a visit, play it off like he was there to take her to lunch. He only hoped she loved him enough to be able to handle what he was about to tell her.