She stopped off at the lab to talk to the scientists about her coffee beans – and to let them know that so far she wasn't having any side affects – and poured herself another cup to take with her. She needed a quiet place to sit and think, and she always did her best thinking with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Figuring that if she went to her quarters someone would eventually come and interrupt her, Mitchell went to the little broom closet that she'd claimed as her own – mainly because no one else actually had any desire to have it. She closed the door behind her, and sat on a cushion on the floor, her back against the cool wall.

Sitting in the dark isn't going to do anything for your depression

I know.

She didn't need to tell him what was bothering her. They were so close there was no keeping it from him – no more than he could keep something from her. They needed to come to an understanding about Carson, because Melony couldn't be pulled between her feelings for the doctor, and her feeling for her symbiote.

I can't forgive him

Talon had never lied to Melony, and couldn't. She could feel the animosity the symbiote held towards the doctor – even though they both knew, now, that it wasn't completely Beckett's fault that he'd gone over the edge. It wasn't what he'd done. It was who he'd done it to. The love that kept her sane and stabilized was the same love that wouldn't allow forgiveness.

I love him.

I know

She loved him enough to forgive the hurt. Loved him enough that she'd allow the excuse that he hadn't been completely at fault in what had happened – and was even willing to accept that she, too, had had a part in what had happened. If she'd realized that she was making him jealous by locking him out of the planning between her and Kale, things might have been different, and might have been averted.

If I'd have warned you about the pheromones…

No. This isn't your fault, Talon. Melony took a sip of her coffee. You knew they didn't pose a problem to me, or you would have warned me. I know that.

She did know it. Talon wasn't all knowing, and they both knew it, and Melony would never hold that against him. She'd never blame him for over looking something that he really didn't have a reason for looking at in the first place. Melony knew it. And through their bond, Talon knew that she meant it.

The two of them were quiet for a long time, while Melony's mind wandered freely and Talon followed along. She'd been with Carson. She knew that given time, she'd be able to relax completely with him once more – if Talon's own animosity didn't stand in the way.

He's a worm

This coming from a snake?

She smiled, because she'd been joking with him, and she could feel Talon's amusement as well.

He's not that bad, Talon. He made a mistake.

He hurt you

It's not all his fault. And you know it.

There was silence. Brooding silence. Yeah, he knew it.

He hurt you, Talon repeated, stubbornly.

I love him.

Damn it, Hot Shot. Why don't you fall for someone else?

Who? McKay?

No

Zalinka?

No

Ford?

Talon actually chuckled at that, because he knew Melony really was fond of Ford – but looked upon him as a younger brother.

What do you want me to do, Melony?

What will you do?

Whatever you want

Because he loved her. Melony knew that was the only reason he hated Carson – and was the only reason he was even considering trying to find a way to reconcile with the doctor. Talon was in as much of a quandary as his host was, and they both knew it.

I love you, Talon.

She felt his pleasure at that simple statement, and they both shared a warm gooey moment.

I love you, too, Hot Shot

He sighed, and then she felt him grumble – to himself – which made her smile, because she loved hearing him mutter in her head.

Go talk to him, Melony. If he's what will make you happy… she felt his mental shrug. I want you happy…

There was no doubt that she had been happy with Beckett, and Talon supposed that there was always a chance she could be again.

Melony looked at her watch – which had glow in the dark hands so she could see what time it was – and wondered if Carson was even awake, yet.

One way to find out

Yeah.

She stood up and opened the door.

OOOOOOOOO

When Carson woke up, he was feeling just a little out of sorts. His ankle was throbbing. Not terribly bad, just enough to hurt. And that was annoying. Add to it the fact that his head was pounding, too, and there was a humming coming from a machine close by that seemed to be way too loud, and it was all enough to make him a little out of sorts.

He waved his hand to get the attention of one of his medics, and when the woman came over, he asked for his chart. When she brought it to him, he looked through it, found that his ankle was too swollen to really be sure if it was broken or not – and that it was firmly braced in an air cast. He'd been given painkillers – which explained the headache – and had fallen asleep for a few hours.

He asked for a couple of aspirin, and washed them down with a healthy swig of water, and then ordered himself moved to his quarters, where he would be able to sleep in peace. Since they were just across the hall, it wasn't like they'd lose track of him, but he wasn't in danger, and he didn't need to be where he was – at least not until the swelling went down so they could take x-rays.

They moved him over to his rooms and settled him on the sofa, with his entire leg propped up on a coffee table. They covered him warmly, gave him a radio in case he needed to be in touch with them, and then piled pillows around him to make him as comfortable as he could be.

"Doctor?" One of the medics brought him a file folder as he was wriggling to get a little more comfortable. "Doctor Jameson asked me to give this to you if you woke up before he came back from his lunch. Colonel Mitchell wanted you to read it."

"What?" Beckett frowned and took the file, curiously. "Did she say why?"

The medic shrugged.

"I didn't talk to her."

Carson nodded, and opened the file.

"Thank you."

She nodded, and left, and Carson looked at the file, wondering why in the world Melony would want him to read the file he was holding. He saw a slight mark against one section, and it drew his attention. He read that section once. Then again, and a third time, just to make sure that he was actually reading what he thought he was reading. Then he set the file aside, and leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. It was an explanation, but it wasn't an excuse, and he knew it.

She'd never forgive him. Love wasn't enough all the time. He knew that, now.