Beckett

Worse than children, they were, and ye had to watch them every minute or they'd be off, blithely dripping blood or other vital fluids the whole way, as if they had an unlimited supply. If they put just some of the energy they spent fightin' me intae their recovery, they'd be out of the infirmary in half the time.

I put my foot down and enlisted Dr. Weir as backup. McKay was tae stay in the infirmary until his enzyme levels were back to normal and I was one hundred percent sure he hadn't done himself any permanent damage from his 'electrifying' experience. Sheppard, at least, was resting in drug-induced oblivion - nothing like having yer leg set with pins and screws to convince you that pain-killers weren't the enemy. I knew the reprieve would be short-lived; he'd soon be chomping at the bit as well.

"Carson, stop treating me like a child."

"Then stop acting like a fractious bairn." I countered. "Rest today and you can have your laptop tomorrow, Rodney." That should have been the end to it, but then this was Rodney I was dealing with.

"Working on the laptop is practically resting," he countered. "Besides, Sheppard blew it all out of proportion - it was just a little zap," he said, pinching his forefinger and thumb together, "I barely felt it."

"An then yer arse fell aff."

"What?"

"Ye must think I'm pure mad dafty."

"Could you speak Canadian, or at least English?"

Oh, he was good a lot of things, and not shy about saying so, but one of the things he was best at was pushin' my buttons, and dinnae he know it.

"Yer a Jammy bastard, you know that? You come in here drookit, positively Baltic. Yer damn lucky yer not hingy, guddling about down there!"

"Queen's English?" he suggested with cherub-like innocence.

"Haud yer wheesht! I said, seething.

His lips quirked. "Temper, temper," he admonished. "Just think, Carson, if only I had my laptop I'd be much too busy to chat with you."

"If you don't stop nippin my heid, yer not getting the laptop tomorrow either!"

He crossed his arms petulantly but made no further argument. I went back to my office tae cool off.

Ten minutes later, one of the nurses poked her head in my door, "Doctor? Dr. Kavanagh would like a word if you have the time."

I could see him hovering outside my office door, but bless her, she had positioned herself in the doorway so that he couldnae get past unless she chose to allow it. This day was going from bad tae worse. If it had been Zelenka, I wouldnae have objected. That man wouldn't say boo to a goose. Kavanagh was an entirely different kettle of fish. "It's alright, Kelli" I sighed, rubbing my temples and trying to forestall the migraine I felt coming on.

She gave me a disappointed look before standing to one side, allowing him to enter.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Kavanagh?"

"I need to talk to Dr. McKay."

"Dr. McKay is resting."

"There's a problem with this week's work schedule and I need to see him, it will only take a minute."

"Yer off yer heid if you think I'm going to wake him for that." My head was pounding now.

"Excuse me?"

"I willnae wake him for something that trivial. Come back tomorrow. You can talk tae him then."

"I'm not leaving here until I talk to him," he said, crossing his arms obstinately.

"Dinnae make me call Dr. Weir," I warned.

"Weir." He sneered and the derision when he said her name was unmistakable.

That was the last straw. "Bugger off, ye Midgie," I said, standing.

"What?"

I poked him in the chest, forcing him to take a step back out of the office. "Get oot."

"What are you doing?" He looked to the nurse for help but she only gave him a jaunty wave.

I kept poking him, continually forcing him back. "I've been in a Barnie or two in my day, son, and if you don't want to be knocked on your sorry arse, I suggest you leave. Right now."

"I'll be adding this to my next report to Stargate command," he threatened before scurrying out the infirmary door.

"Yer Maw cares," I yelled down the hallway after his rapidly disappearing form, then went in search of some aspirin. As I passed Rodney's bed, he cracked one eye open.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes he is, the plamph."

"I'm impressed, Carson."

"Good, now I kin die a happy man," I said sarcastically, swigging down a handful of Tylenol before returning to my office to finish some reports. An hour or so later, I was interrupted by a light knock on my doorframe. "Yes?" I said, still writing. When there was no answer, I looked up. "Oh, Dr. Weir, I'm sorry. I thought you were one of the nurses. Please sit down," I said, waving her to a chair. I waited until she had settled herself. "What kin I do for you?"

"I hear you already did."

"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused.

"Kavanagh?"

"Oh."

"Hmmm…yes, 'oh' about sums it up. So, let's see, you were on call all day yesterday while we had search teams out looking for our missing boys, and you spent last night turning Sheppard's leg into something that didn't resemble a jigsaw puzzle. I imagine you spent all day today battling with an irritable Rodney?" She waved off my attempt to reply, "A day with him in a good mood is enough to wear anyone out, and I speak from personal experience. You are planning to get some sleep tonight though, right?"

"Ahem…"

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. I'll just have a little chat with that nurse of yours on the way out. What's her name again? Kelli?"

I was just finishing up the last of my paperwork when the nurses made their midnight shift change. I looked up to see them both standing in the doorway of my office, arms crossed, staring at me.

"Dinna fash yourselves," I said, tidying the last stack of papers, "I'm away to my bed."

Kelli made a point of helping me on with my jacket. "Ye women all stick taegether," I complained. She smiled and walked me to the door.