She only made it through a partial demonstration of the zat before the nausea that Talon had warned her she might feel started creeping up on her. She tried to ignore it, knowing that there wasn't all that much she could do about it – since Talon was causing it, he'd already told her he couldn't fix it – and she was enjoying watching Sheppard's reaction to the zat, which was a formidable weapon in the right hands.

She might have been ignoring it, but she was doing a lousy job of hiding it, she soon discovered. McKay spoke up.

"Colonel Mitchell? Are you feeling all right?" He asked, right after she hit an empty box with the third shot of a zat, making it vanish. "You're looking a little pale..."

"It's the gene therapy Talon' working on," she explained, shrugging. "It's nothing."

"You look a little green to me," Sheppard said, taking a close look at her face, worry evident in his eyes.

Since she felt green, there was no reason for her to deny it.

"Why don't we cut this demonstration short?" Weir asked, taking a look at Melony's face, too. She thought she looked a bit more pale than green, but she wasn't going to quibble. "Maybe you should go lie down?"

Melony was going to argue. She could have told them she felt fine, and was more than capable of ignoring the discomfort and finishing the demonstration, but there really wasn't a reason to. She felt like crap. The demonstration could wait. She nodded.

"I think I will," she told them, holstering the zat. "I'll finish this later..."

"There's no rush." Weir assured her.

Mitchell nodded.

"I'll be in my quarters if you need me." She couldn't imagine why they would, though. Which was one of the benefits of being the new guy around the base.

Slacker

Hey, it's your fault I feel like shit.

I did warn you

And I'm glad you did.

Otherwise she'd have eaten a huge breakfast and there was no way she would have been able to hold it down. Not the way her stomach was clenching just then.

"I'll walk with you, if you don't mind?" McKay asked.

"Sure." As long as he wasn't expecting her to have a lengthy conversation on the way. Nodding to the others, and giving Lieutenant Ford a slap on the back – Ford had joined them for the demonstration, and even though his expression when he'd heard what Mitchell was planning was just as concerned and shocked as the others' had been, he hadn't tried to talk her out of it – she and McKay left the room and headed towards her quarters.

"When you read the mission reports, did you happen to see the one about the personal shield devices that we discovered?" Rodney asked her.

"The one that you think about and it falls off?"

"That's the one."

She nodded.

"It looks fairly interesting – which is one of the reasons I was in such a hurry to get the Ancient's gene. I want to try it out."

"On the Wraith?" McKay asked. "I was going to suggest you take one along. It might be the protection you need."

"I'll try the other things, first," Mitchell said. "But I do want to take it, and I'll need you to explain exactly how it works."

"Oh, that's no problem," he assured her. "You see, the thing is actually-"

"Not right now, Doctor..." she said, holding up her hand. "I'm not sure I'd remember the explanation if I heard it, as lousy as I feel. Just tell me later, once I have the ability to wear it."

Rodney nodded.

"It can wait."

"It's a good suggestion, though." She said. "Thanks."

He beamed, and the rest of the walk to her rooms was made in a companionable silence.

"Do you need anything?" He asked as they stopped outside her door.

"I don't think there's anything that will help," she said ruefully. "I'll probably just have to tough it out. Thanks, though."

"I'll round you up one of those shield devices, and have it ready for testing when you're ready," he promised as she palmed open the door.

Mitchell nodded.

"Thanks."

Then she went into her room, intent on nothing more than sprawling on her bed and riding out the waves of nausea. She pulled her holsters off, hanging them on the bedpost once more, and shucked out of her boots, but that was as far as she managed. Cuddling up to her pillow and feeling about as miserable as she could feel, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore how bad she felt. Eventually she drifted off.

OOOOOOOO

Gentle fingers brushing against her temple woke her from her restless slumber. Surprised, but feeling to awful to do more than wonder what and who it was, she opened her eyes, and once more found herself looking into Carson Beckett's gentle hazel gaze. He smiled slightly when she woke, but he could see in her expression that Dr. Weir hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said Colonel Mitchell had looked pretty sick. She looked awful. Couple with that the way she was holding her pillow – a definite sign of misery – and Carson felt himself go gooey inside. Poor thing.

"Doctor Weir told me you weren't feeling well," Beckett explained. "I thought I'd come make sure it wasn't anything serious."

"It's just Talon," Melony told him in a whisper. "He warned me it would happen, but he didn't tell me I'd feel so awful."

Sorry

I'll live... right?

There was tender amusement.

Yes

"Is there anything I can get you?" Beckett asked. "There are several medications for nausea that might do some good..."

Mitchell shook her head.

"I just need to be still..."

His fingers brushed her pale hair back from her forehead, and once more began caressing her temple. When he'd done that after she'd woken after the beam had attacked Talon, it had hurt. Now, though, it felt soothing, and she hoped he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon.

"Do you need me to leave you alone?" He asked. "I didn't mean to wake you, I just wanted to check-"

"No... I could use some company," Melony told him, closing her eyes again. "If you don't have anything pressing to do." Besides, she was pretty much addicted to that soothing brogue of his.

Beckett smiled.

"I think I can clear my schedule."

He didn't have a schedule. Unless someone managed to hurt themselves – which wasn't impossible – he'd be free to hang out with her as long as she could put up with him. He settled her a little more comfortably, pulling her blankets out from under her and then covering her warmly with them, and touched her cheek, looking for a fever.

"Did he say how long you're going to feel like this?"

Talon?

It'll be a while, Melony. I'm sorry. He was changing her in a very complex manner, after all, and her body wasn't enjoying the change, although it wasn't fighting it thanks to him.

"It'll be a while." She repeated, sighing. Then, before he could ask her another question – she really didn't feel like talking – she changed the subject.

"Tell me about yourself, Carson," she suggested, her eyes still closed.

"Sure." Running his fingers along her temple absently, Beckett started telling her about where he was from and a little about his education and family. Mitchell listened for a while, caught up in his soft voice, and then drifted off once more as he was telling her about the college he went to.