He didn't immediately go get her something to eat. There were too many people who had been worried for far too long about her to allow them to worry any longer, so although it was the middle of the night and the place was more or less deserted – except for those on the midnight watch in the command center – Beckett made Weir's quarters his first stop.

She came to the door in response to his knock, but it took a bit, and when she opened it he knew he'd woken her. She looked sleepy, worried and just a bit out of sorts at having been woken so late, but when she saw who it was, everything else faded and she just looked worried.

"Carson?" She immediately assumed it was bad news, since good news never happened in the middle of the night.

"She's awake, Doctor Weir," he told her, much to her relief.

"How is she?"

"It's too early to tell, really, but she's talking and seems to be fine – I'll know more later. I just wanted to let you know."

Weir breathed a deep sigh, smiling.

"I'm glad you did."

"I need to get back to her."

"I'll inform the others. You go do whatever you need to." She couldn't help the foolish grin on her face. Rodney had been telling them for days in his typical pessimistic fashion that he was certain Mitchell wasn't going to wake up – that she'd been in contact with the Wraith for too long to recover. She was going to make sure he was the first one she woke up.

"You can't come and see her," Beckett warned her. "They can't either."

"When can we?"

"Maybe in the morning. We'll see how she feels after she eats."

"I'll make sure they know." She put her hand on his arm for a moment. "Well done, Carson."

He shrugged, but he couldn't help but smile. He felt too good not to smile.

"She and Talon did all the work, Doctor Weir. I was just an audience."

"Uh huh..." Weir knew better. She shooed him away from her door, well aware that she wasn't really all that dressed for company – or for standing out in the hallway. "Get back to your patient."

Carson nodded, and left her standing in the hallway, turning to head for the commissary.

Weir watched him go, then went back into her quarters and started getting dressed. She wasn't tired anymore, and she had a few people to go wake up. Whether they chose to stay awake was completely up to them, but she didn't want any of them to be complaining because she didn't let them know the good news immediately.

The commissary was deserted and dark. On the buffet serving table there were a couple of warmers that held what amounted to a late night snack in the event that those few who had the night duty shifts were in need of something to eat during their breaks, but it wasn't much of a selection. He took a tray and a mug, filling the mug with a cup of coffee. It wasn't all that hot, and it was a little strong, but it would do until morning, he supposed. He filled a plate with a sample of everything they had out – a little pasta he wasn't certain she'd be able to eat, a couple of packages of peanut butter crackers, a bit of casserole that had potatoes and ham in it, and for dessert a piece of pecan pie.

Then he carried it back to the infirmary.

She had her eyes closed when he returned, but he knew he wasn't asleep. Her hand was idly rubbing the spot on her torso under her left breast that had been the area the Wraith had touched her – and had left the nasty wound.

"Does it ache?" He asked, softly.

She opened her eyes, looking over at him as he walked up to the bed.

"No, not really... it's probably a phantom pain or a memory of the pain or something." She stopped rubbing her side and tried to sit up. Beckett set the tray down on a stand and moved over, pulling extra pillows down and bunching them up behind her to prop her up into a sitting position.

"Is it completely healed?"

Talon?

It's healed

"Talon says it is."

"He'd know best."

Don't ever forget that

Melony smiled, glad the symbiote was bantering with her. It proved he wasn't feeling so guilty – which would never do.

"He knows best about that," she corrected, aloud so they'd both hear her. "Is that coffee I smell?"

"It's not very fresh, I'm afraid."

"It doesn't have to be."

He handed it over to her and she took a long, appreciative sip.

"They didn't have much for options for eating," Carson told her, putting the tray over her lap and pulling the little legs down so she wouldn't have to try and balance it. "I brought you a little of everything."

So she saw. Pasta and crackers and some kind of potato and ham dish, and for dessert...

Oooo, pecan pie!

I hate pecan pie.

She hated it, but Talon loved it, and Melony hid a scowl, knowing that Beckett wouldn't understand the look she gave the dessert. She'd eat the pie, but only to make Talon happy.

Whatever works

She could feel his smug happiness, and it cheered her up a little. Ah well, she'd eaten worse.

"It looks good," she told him, picking up a fork and trying the ham and potato dish.

No, the pie

Not until I buffer it with something else.

He grumbled, and he mumbled, and Melony grinned foolishly until Carson finally had to ask her what was so funny. Mitchell explained it to him, not bothering to hide the inflections in Talon's part of the conversation, and Beckett was soon smiling as well. He'd never imagined that the host and symbiote could banter like that, but apparently Melony and Talon did it all the time.

"The difference between a Tok'ra and a Goa'uld," Mitchell told him, finishing up the potato dish so quickly that Carson wished he'd brought her more.

The fact that you're not eating the pie first is the difference between Tok'ra and Goa'uld, Talon told her.

Mitchell snorted, and choked on her first bite of peanut butter cracker, gagging on it and laughing at the same time, and completely unable to catch her breath. Beckett slapped her back a few times to help her out, and handed her the coffee cup once more, and eventually she managed to get everything back where it belonged, but by then she was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. And again she had to explain what was so funny to Carson so he wouldn't think she was completely off her rocker.

All in all, it was a good way to spend her first meal in a week – between the gentle assistance of the doctor when she had trouble with the pasta, to the carefully sardonic humor of her symbiote, Mitchell couldn't even remember what had been so awful about the Wraith. Which was something Talon was already taking steps to make sure continued.