oOo

09.00 Informed that construction work, including demolition, is to be carried out, contrary to Article 7, amounting to reckless endangerment and blatant disregard for patient safety.

The clock was ticking and that was all. Nothing else reached his ears. The morning sun bathed the walls in soft light. Through closed eyelids he could see an orangey haze. He was warm, comfortable, and basking in the glow that only recent heroism could impart.

Sheppard was okay, thanks to him... Carson had apologised for the previous afternoon's lapse...

"I'm sorry, Rodney, but I had nine people with serious crush injuries, and I'm afraid we were pushed to our limit. Thank God you got to him when you did..."

They had settled him back into bed, made sure he had not been too damaged, and then proceeded to bring in Sheppard, with excuses of, 'we need his room', and 'you'll have some company now...".

John had been sleeping peacefully by then, propped up and on his side, oxygen back in place, all traces of gore thankfully cleaned up.

There had been nowhere else to put them. The infirmary was full. An accident in the Athosian village had the place filled to capacity. It was the arrival of these patients, that had stretched the staff so far, that there had been noone around but Rodney to save the colonel from choking to death.

He felt sick when he thought about what could have happened if he hadn't made it. He was relieved, not only to have saved his friend's life, but also to have been able to make up somewhat, for causing his illness in the first place.

His quiet reverie was interrupted by the strident tones of a Scottish doctor...

"Mornin' Elizabeth...A-ha...They're both stable. The colonel is actually doing a lot better this morning... The bleeding stopped, and we don't expect it to return... They're in here together... we don't have a lot of room since the Athosians arrived... Well, yes... of course I can't say for sure, but I'm optimistic... a few bruises - and of course he was exhausted... A-ha... Yes, he's turned the corner... I will, Beckett out."

The conversation obviously over, Rodney heard a weary sigh from Beckett, then,

"Okay... let's get it over with, Melissa."

"What will you tell him, Doctor?"

"The truth, I suppose.. but he's going to be upset."

"How long will...?"

"Oh, only a few hours..."

Rodney roused completely in one spluttering explosion of bed sheets,

"Carson! Get over here! Am I dying? I am, arent I?"

Carson approached, already grabbing his wrist and counting, tutting away,

"For goodness sake, Rodney, stop hyperventilating... It's not always about you, you know..."

Carson's face suddenly showed an expression of rapturous joy - forced rapturous joy. He brought his hands together and clasped them; McKay thought he looked like a T.V. evangelist... not a good look for the doctor.

"Now then, Rodney", and he smiled sweetly, "You're going to be having some visitors..."

Rodney narrowed his eyes, suspiciously.

"There's a problem... in the air ducting or something. They have to get behind here," and Carson indicated the wall adjacent to Rodney's bed. "You'll probably sleep right through it."

"What? You mean they'll be working in here... where will you put us?"

Beckett pretended to be engrossed in the valves on the I.V..

"I can't stay here!"

"I'm sorry there's nowhere else. You have to be nearby so we can monitor you."

Rodney visibly deflated and whined,

"I'll go to my room... however bloodstained it is."

Carson folded his arms decisively and pinned McKay with a warning look.

"You're not well enough to be in quarters, and you know it."

"..and it's only for the morning.", he said, his tone softening.

He crossed the room and checked the sleeping Sheppard's pulse,

"I suggest you follow the colonel's lead and take a nap.", and with that, the doctor left.

oOo

09.34 Without my permission and against my wishes, I am moved into close proximity to a seriously infectious person.

"Look, will you stop that?"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"You're looking ... again.."

"I'm not looking at you, McKay... why would I?"

Sheppard wearily blinked at Rodney, and the scientist could see from his eyes that the pilot was still unwell. Pricked, somewhat, by remorse, he slumped back against his pillow with a snort, contemplating the recent turn of events.

Carson had said to get some sleep, so grudgingly, he had. Then, after a few minutes of shut-eye, he had awoken to find his life even more screwed up.

He had actually been dreaming, pleasantly, of a hot girl... several in fact... and he came to himself wearing a huge grin, feeling warm and slightly frisky, as though his arms were still wrapped around Miss Ontario 1995...

He squeezed and found soft resistance, not melting away as a dream really ought to. Cracking open an eye he was faced with a truly disturbing sight: John Sheppard's face directly opposite his - freakishly close - and Rodney's arm draped over the colonel's shoulder. The warmth he had felt was due to the length of Sheppard's body lying right next to his.

To say he was creeped out and horrified was the understatement of the year. Snapping back his arm, he recoiled as far away from Sheppard as he could, unable at present to account for the strange occurrence. Was he really in Sheppard's bed? Could he now add sleepwalking to his catalogue of odd symptoms? No, not in Sheppard's bed... this was definitely his pillow - he'd turned the case inside out, certain it wasn't clean.

So, it was the colonel who was the somnambulist. No, again... there was the oxygen line - John was in his own bed.

Then it all became clear...

Their beds had been pushed together, and they now lay side by side.

Not only were they sharing a room, but they were now, to all intents and purposes, sharing a bed.

How would he live this down?

oOo

09.40 Workers arrive. Noise begins : 59 decibels, rising to 88 dbs on several occasions. A request was made to desist.

Then the work crew had arrived.

Radek came, told him not to worry - giggled a bit, when he saw them both - said it was not a scientific problem, just one of mechanics... they had their top 'drains and vents' people on it.

The infirmary was becoming a building site and he couldn't think what was more bizarre, that he was trapped, half naked, in what could be a hard-hat area, or that he was sleeping with John Sheppard.

"May I come in?"

A soft and lilting voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Teyla!"

oOo

She was sitting on the cusp as it were, crosslegged, on the join between the two beds. Rodney hoped they didn't suddenly shift, posting the woman through the gap and into the alligator lake beneath. Sheppard was asleep again, pasty face composed, despite the clunking and screeching as more tools and such, were dragged in.

Teyla gently patted the colonel's hand, and then turned all her attention to McKay.

"Rodney, you look stronger today. I am glad."

He found he couldn't answer. This was not the first time Teyla had visited, but it was the first time he felt the awkwardness of harsh words said, hanging between them. He swallowed - loudly.

"Is anything wrong?", she asked quickly, apparently alarmed.

On an in-breath, he said, "Teyla... I want to apologise to you... for what I said... that day, at dinner."

Across the room, infirmary equipment was being moved out and power tools plugged in.

"You were not yourself, Rodney.", she said, simply.

"Nevertheless, I would hate for you to think that I meant - even secretly - what I said. I swear it didn't come from me. I respect you, Teyla... you and your people. Your friendship means a lot to me."

She smiled a tiny smile, and looked up at him through dark lashes.

"I came to your room, Rodney... after dinner, that day. I was... concerned. I knew something was wrong, even then."

Rodney felt his heart swell, and on an impulse he reached for Teyla's hand.

Long moments passed as their silence effectively said all they needed to say. Finally, it was the Athosian who broke it.

"Rodney, I forgive you.", and she favoured him with a devastatingly beautiful smile, and went on talking as if nothing had ever been amiss.

"Now, I have something..."

But McKay did not let her finish,

"Teyla, would you do me a favour... please? I need my laptop, can you ..."

Raising a finger to silence him, Teyla reached into the bag she had around her shoulder and revealed the treasure she had brought.

Seeing his face light up with gratitude, she quickly added,

"It's from Dr Zelenka, not me. I do not think you should be working.", she said, disapprovingly.

Rodney ran his hands over the device and sighed happily, then he snapped his head up and looked across the room at the huddle of personnel there.

There were three burly workmen in overalls, looking at the wall with their beady eyes. One had a large sledge hammer, something Rodney assumed denoted his status as head honcho.

"Hey, you ... person with hammer.."

"I'm Arnold, Sir."

He was a tallish, heavy-set man, with graying hair and a small, very-black moustache. Rodney immediately thought of an infamous, despotic German... or was he Austrian...?

Clearing the fluff and fuddle from his brain with a shake of the head, he called across...

"See this, Arnie?" and Rodney waggled his open laptop, "Everything you do or say is going down here, so...just you be careful, ya hear?"

Without a word, Arnold turned his attention back to the wall. Exchanging nods and meaningful looks with his crew, he hefted the sledge hammer and with no preamble, attacked the wall. The other two then added to the horrendous noise by starting up drills and other tools of dubious effectiveness.

"Why will hacking holes in the wall help? There's no finesse, no artistry...", shouted an exasperated McKay, dropping his head in his hands.

"How's a sick man supposed to sleep?"

oOo

TBC and thanks for your friendly reviews...

I wasn't too sure about the style of this chappie... any thoughts?

Part 11 is almost ready... yay!