A/N: I'm sorry for any confusion I might've caused, but stick with me and I will do my best to straighten things out. If not, just ask me and I'll post a little "what's going on" note at the start of the next chapter.
As always, thanks to all you who've reviewed! Now . . .
Chapter
7: One Small Blunder
Eleven days before the present
"Radek," McKay began as he entered the lab where the Czech was working.
"No," he responded without looking up from what he was doing.
"You have no idea what I'm about to say!" Rodney protested.
"Oh, yes, I do," Radek said, setting up a piece of equipment. "You found some sort of Ancient viral lab and you want me to leave what I'm doing to help you check it out." He stopped to look at his colleague. "Am I right?"
"Well, yes," McKay answered. "But . . ."
"BUT—I am already working on something else, and," he held up a silencing finger as Rodney opened his mouth to object. "AND I have waited two months—two months—to perform this experiment because I have been helping you with one of your projects. So, my answer is no. Find somebody else to help you." Zelenka returned to what he was doing, leaving McKay momentarily silenced.
"Alright," the man finally replied. "Thank you for your, um . . . time." He turned and left the room.
"Uh-huh," Radek murmured, consulting his data pad. He quirked a small smile—it wasn't often that Rodney had nothing to say. Meanwhile, McKay approached three other scientists, two of which were already engrossed in other projects and a third whom he had decided not to ask at the last moment because . . . well, he wasn't about to spend any time alone with the guy.
"Oh, come on," the scientist muttered under his breath. "There's got to be someone with nothing better to do."
--
"Rodney!" Dr. Carson Beckett greeted in surprise as he looked up to see his friend stroll into the infirmary. "Are you feeling sick?"
"No!" Rodney answered. "Why—do I look sick?" the scientist was suddenly concerned.
"No. It's just you usually avoid this place."
"Ah. Well," McKay sort of shrugged. "Now, I was wondering—how would you like an excuse to get out of here for awhile?"
"Out of here?" Carson echoed.
"Yes," Rodney answered, "at least for several hours, maybe even a couple days."
"To do what?" the medical doctor wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.
"I, uh, found another Ancient viral lab and I was wondering if you wanted to help me check it out," the scientist looked at him hopefully. "I, um . . I asked Radek but he was busy with something else."
"I can't just leave, Rodney," Carson began. "I have patients . . ."
"None of which are critically injured and can easily be taken care of by the slew of other doctors," Rodney interrupted. "If you're needed, they can contact you over the radio. Besides, it's very likely that the lab contains some, uh, kinda . . medical research you can use. . . . Please, Carson?"
"Please?"
"Yes, I said 'please.' I do happen to have manners."
"You'd really like for me to help you," Carson said, a bit awed.
"Well, uh . . . yes. Yes, I would," Rodney admitted uncomfortably. "Two people can get the work done faster than just one," he added, still a bit too egotistical to be able to admit he just wanted the company. Carson knew better and took the fact that Rodney had even asked for his help as a compliment.
"Alright," he finally agreed. "I guess the other doctors can take care of things here for a bit . . ."
"Then—that's a yes?" McKay asked in surprise. His previously failures to obtain assistance had left him doubtful of his power of persuasion.
"That's a yes," Carson smiled. Rodney raised a hand in the air as though he were about to say something profound.
"Thank you," he finally said. "Thank you."
---
A couple hours later
"Is it just me or is this lab smaller with twice as much stuff?" Dr. Beckett asked, looking around the lab McKay had recently found.
"You mean than the lab with the virus that caused the freaky visions and brain aneurysms?" Rodney asked and Carson nodded. "It's not smaller, it just has twice as much stuff. Not to mention larger equipment . . ." He looked down at his computer pad.
"It is safe to be in here, right?" Carson asked uncertainly, realizing he'd failed to ask earlier.
"You mean are all the viruses properly contained?" The doctor gave his friend an aggravated look.
"Yes, Rodney," he said with a hint of sarcasm, "that's exactly what I mean." Rodney glanced at him, both slightly surprised and mildly pleased that he'd managed to get on the good doctor's nerves.
"It's perfectly safe," Rodney assured him. "I had a couple marines in hazmat suits go over the place twice. Half this stuff probably doesn't even work anymore. Any viruses within these walls are right where they're supposed to be. Now, to figure out what the Ancients were using all this, um . . . fancy equipment for."
"Aye," Carson agreed. The brown haired doctor slowly made his way about the lab as Rodney worked on interfacing his data pad with the control console. Some of the items were similar to those that might've been found in a lab back on Earth, whereas others were so unique that he could only begin to imagine their purpose. Near the middle of the room was a sort of glass case. It reminded Dr. Beckett a lot of a shower, actually, only it was half the size. He opened the door to get a closer look at the three sprayers inside.
"Carson!" Dr. McKay practically shouted, and quite suddenly. Carson jumped, wheeling to face his friend.
"Was that necessary?" he demanded. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!"
"What do you think you're doing?" Rodney wanted to know.
"You said it was safe!"
"Because all the viruses are still properly contained! At least they were," McKay checked something on his computer pad before looking back up at him. "Fortunately, you haven't managed to release something that may have proven detrimental to both our healths."
"Sorry," Carson muttered, a hurt expression crossing his face.
"It's fine," Rodney told him, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. "I know you're not some . . . um, idiot—I shouldn't have snapped at you . . ." he mumbled the last part so that he could hardly be heard, but Carson caught the apology and the fact that his friend wasn't quite so socially inept as he had started out wasn't lost on him. The medical doctor joined his friend behind the control console.
"So what precisely were they doing in here?" Carson asked.
"That's what I'm trying to find out," came the reply.
"Dr. McKay to the control room," a voice came over the comm system. "Dr. McKay to the control room." Rodney activated his radio.
"I thought I made it clear that I was busy," he said. He listened to the response. "What?!" he let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. I'll be there in a minute, McKay out. That new technician the SGC sent is going to make me snap," he told Carson. "I don't think I ever met a more mindless . . . I'll be back."
"Alright," Carson nodded, already feeling pity for the tech.
"And don't touch anything!" Rodney told him on his way out. "Except the console," he added over his shoulder.
"Right," his friend muttered. He consulted Rodney's data pad. As Carson attempted to access the information they were looking for, he moved the book McKay had brought up on the ledge above the console. He wasn't entirely sure why Rodney had found it necessary to bring it in the first place—he had pretty much everything he could possibly need on his computer.
After regarding the controls on the console for a moment, Carson turned his attention back to the computer pad. Just then, the book slipped off the ledge and hit one of the buttons before he could catch it. A hiss was emitted as the sprayers in the enclosed glass compartment went off, releasing a grayish mist.
"Oh, crap," the Scot muttered, realizing his small blunder a bit too late: he'd left the door open and now, whatever the sprayers had been designed for was released into the room. Almost automatically, he turned and shut the door to prevent the aerosol from escaping into the corridor. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought of trying to escape into the hallway himself. It didn't matter, though, because he wouldn't have had time to do so before the door closed by itself, anyway.
"Carson?" Rodney called several minutes later as he passed his hand over the door panel for the third or fourth time. Finally, he dismantled it and opened the door manually. "Carson!" he cried as the door opened to reveal his friend lying on the floor. He was at his side in an instant.
"Rodney . . ." Carson murmured, but his eyes remained closed.
"I need a medical team!" McKay shouted frantically over his radio. "Carson? Carson . . . can—can you hear me? Carson?!" But he received no further response.
---
TBC . . .
A/N: This chapter went back to four days before Sheppard's team, along with Dr. Markham, went to Vardis, the alien planet with the medical man mentioned in previous chapters. Let me know what you thought—and if you have any questions.
