A/N: Since I wrote this before the Lost Tribe aired, I will be continuing under the presumption that Ronon likes Keller and Keller likes Ronon. Besides, I'm not entirely sure a galaxy where R does not automatically / K is a galaxy I want to live in.
Disclaimer: No. Seriously. Don't got there.
Chapter Three – Been Worse, Been Better
Sheppard walked into the curtained off section of the infirmary where Micah had been for the past 36hours since her surgery. As he'd expected, Ronon was at her bedside, the man had been an almost permanent fixture there for the past day and a half.
"Hey, Ronon, thought I might find you here."
Ronon turned to look at John, keeping his voice low, "Sheppard," he said by way of greeting, "did you need me for something?"
Sheppard shrugged off the question, "nope, just came to check on our patient."
Ronon nodded, glancing back at Micah for a moment before turning back.
"I uh, wanted to, you know, uh" he shrugged slightly, uncomfortable with the prospect of diverging from their normally strictly 'sparring and wise-cracks' relationship for something more serious, "thank you, for uh…"
Sheppard inhaled slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets, just as uncomfortable as the Satedan.
"You don't, uh, have to..." he shook his head, cutting off Ronon's hesitant sentence. He glanced briefly at his friend, long enough to make eye contact and let a message past between them. They'd known eachother long enough, there really wasn't that much that needed to be said between them that actually needed to be said.
He smiled when Ronon's shoulders relaxed and he sat back, glad to be rid of his burden.
"Doc says she should be waking up soon." He said, returning to the actual reason he'd come by the infirmary.
Ronon turned back around in his chair and kept his gaze firmly on Micah's face, who lay completely still in the bed.
"She's been awake for the past half hour." He stated.
John looked at the woman once more. She looked very unconscious to him.
"You sure about that, buddy?" He asked, before realizing he probably should have known better.
"Her breathing changed."
They both watched the seemingly sleeping woman for several seconds more before she started to smile followed quickly by her opening her eyes.
"Jus' spoil me fun as always Bat'hi." Micah complained, turning her clear blue eyes on him.
Ronon just raised an eyebrow at her, his glare not faltering.
"So you are awake," John said, smiling, "how do you feel?"
"I've been worse," Micah said, making an indecisive noise. She glanced around, apparently seeing the infirmary for the first time, "whe'e are we?"
John hesitated only momentarily, "Atlantis."
She looked incredulous at first, "the city of the ancesta's…wow." She made an effort to look more carefully, "I didn't thank it really existed. I've hea'd stories since I was a child but this..." She stopped shaking her head in amazment.
John smiled and bounced slightly on his feet. He always liked when people were amazed by his city. After a few moments of silent admiration, Micah turned her gaze on Ronon, who had yet to move or speak. She stared at him for several seconds and John got that funny feeling that he'd had back on the planet, sort of like he was eavsdropping on a conversation that wasn't happening out loud.
"Why you lookin' at me that way?" She asked finally, her voice sharp. Her persona, which up till then John would have described as downright pleasent, suddenly darkened and his body tensed reflexively.
Ronon didn't flinch, "you should have said something. I could have killed you."
"But you didn't."
"You were two hours away from dying if we hadn't showed up and-" He continued, clearly upset. John looked at his friend, it was more than a little unusual for the Satedan to so openly express such an emotion as worry.
"Aright," she cut him off and started to sit up but the shooting pain that radiated from her injury made her drop back on the pillows with a gasp. Wanting to save face, she continued severely, "you could have. But you didn't. I'm sorry I didn't say anythang. I should have. Next time I will. Okay?" She paused a beat, to be sure he was hearing her and then stated with finality, "this discussion is ova'."
John felt the heat from their twin glares radiating off each of them. Ronon suddenly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, effectivly admitting defeat in this particular showdown and John felt his respect and curiosity for this woman growing. Anyone who could stand toe to toe with Ronon Dex, and come out victorious no less, was a woman worth knowing. And having on your side if the time came to choose.
In an instant the tension that had invaded the small group was gone and Micah turned to look at John again. The sweet smile was back as if it had never left.
"I thank you for your medical assistance…Colonel, was it?"
"John," he nodded, "Don't mention it. That gate address you gave us from the informant checked out so, I guess it was the least we could do."
Micah smiled, "next time you need me to scay' the dung outta somebody, jus' ask."
John almost laughed, nodding as he turned to leave, "count on it. Get some rest, alright?"
"I mos' definitely will not," she called cheekily to his back, and then turned to Ronon, "truthfully, how long do they expect me to stay hea'?"
Ronon sighed, having expected this question from the start, "as long as you need to." Finding his answer unsatisfactory, Micah raised her eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes, "a few days at least."
"A few days?!" she sounded appalled, "A wraith will soona' cut off his own feedin' hand," She told him, flicking her long red bangs off her forehead with a huff.
Ronon smiled, he sometimes forgot how much he missed Pegasus natives. For once he didn't need a translator to figure out one's colloquial speech.
He stood slowly, "I'll go talk to the doc."
"Thank you Bat'hi," Micah said, sounding relieved.
"Stop calling me that." He threw over his shoulder, the way he had hundreds of times, knowing now, just as he had then, that she never would.
"Hey doc." Ronon stepped up beside Keller and she pulled her face away from a Microscope on the counter.
"What's up Ronon, I'm guessing our patient is finally awake?"
He nodded and she got up, reaching for her lab coat so she could go get an update on the mysterious alien woman.
He touched her arm and she stopped.
"Do me a favor?"
She looked at him suspiciously and asked with a smile, "What is it?"
"Dial back whatever you're giving her for the pain," he said calmly.
Her smile disappeared almost instantly, "are you serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Jennifer frowned, "she just had pretty major surgery Ronon, she needs the pain medication. All of it."
He shook his head, "you don't understand, as soon as she thinks she can handle the pain, she'll walk out of here, whether or not she's ready. If you want to keep her here long enough so she won't rip up whatever it is you did in that surgery you're going to have to cut it back."
Jennifer looked thoughtful and he felt somewhat guilty, knowing what he was asking her to do was against every 'doctor' bone in her body. But he also knew Micah. Her stubbornness rivaled his own and if she left before she was ready Jennifer would just end up worrying herself to death over her well-being. If she just did what he asked, they could all avoid the whole scene.
He took one step closer, crowding her personal space considerably and yet she didn't back down. He loved that.
"Please, Jen." He added softly, knowing it was somewhat manipulative of him to use her first name. She had never denied him anything when he did that.
She looked at him briefly and then diverted her gaze to the chart in her hands, her red cheeks and ears the only indication that she noticed his closeness at all.
"How high a pain tolerance?" She asked, mostly so he wouldn't think he was winning so easily.
Ronon thought for a moment, "once, we were on a dark planet with these tall hard plants with sharp spikes about this long," he held his fingers six inches apart, "with hook-like ends. She was running and fell onto one, it broke off in her calf. It was bleeding and we couldn't pull it out, so she used a knife to cut open her own leg and dug around until..."
"Okay, okay!" Jen made a face, not needing any more details. Surgery was kind of her specialty, so she didn't need him to tell her that self-surgery without anestectic was just...yeah. High pain tolerance might just be an understatment. "Fine." She muttered, turning to check on her patient, "but you owe me."
Ronon laughed. There were worse things in the galaxy than owing a pretty doctor a favor.
TBC
