Bottom Feeder Vocab du Jour! AIT: Advanced Individual Training. If you want to know more, check out and link to /life/advancedindividualtraining.jsp. Now, as to what training Maggot and Gearhead survived (or trashed, if you ask the poor devils who trained 'em . . .) that's a story for another day. We suspect they both were once a higher rank and then, well, shit happened.

And it's still happening so join us for a Maggot and Gearhead first, their FIRST third person narrative story!

Sometimes Gearoid hated his job. Well, to be honest, a lot of the time he hated it but there were some times that he hated it more than usual, like the times when he had to grab hold of weird . . . stuff. Weird, cold, squirmy, slimy . . . stuff. He shoulda gotten Melvin to do this part. Maggot'd touch anything. Hell, Maggot would EAT anything. He shifted his grip. And stopped. There was a sound.

It was NOT a good sound.

It was sort of . . . wet. And dribbly. And squirtchy. If that was a word, and Gearoid was pretty sure that it was. And if it wasn't then it should be because that was exactly the sound the thing made. Just before he heard the tiny, little, pitiful squeal. And smelled the smell. And knew everything was going to shit. He did the only thing he could. He stalled. "Before you say a word, Maggot, this is NOT MY FAULT!"

Melvin was staring at him, a blank, stunned look on his face. "What did you do?"

Gearoid stared back at the slow ooze of dark fluid that hung for a moment from the heavy, black monobrow, then rolled gracefully down beside Maggot's nose, around his mouth (thankfully), to drip off the chin. Gearoid pasted what he knew was a pretty sickly smile on his face and did his damndest to sound like he wasn't just pleased as punch that at least this hadn't happened to HIM. "I know that sucker is GROSS. I know it's creepy. I wasn't the one who wanted to keep that mutherfucker. Blame the geeks."

There was another drip. "Gearhead, what did you do?"

"I didn't do nothing! It ain't me. You're the one who wanted light duty. Me, I coulda warned you that inventory ain't a good spot." There was another drip of the inky fluid and Gearoid winced. "I told you about the spiders and you didn't figure it out."

Melvin's jaw worked. The grinding of his teeth was audible. "Gearhead, in simple words, what DID YOU DO?"

"Me? I din't do nothin'!"

"Gearhead, I just got finished dripping blue goo for weeks. Why am I dripping agin?"

Gearoid squinched up his face and carefully put down the creature he held. Very carefully. It wiggled its tentacles.

Melvin hunched forward, glaring through the film of thick goo on his face. "G?"

Gearoid opened his mouth, tried to think of something to say now that he had that big mouth of his open, and gave up and shrugged with a winsome smile.

Melvin scowled. "Why am I dripping?"

"Yer wet?"

"WHY AM I DRIPPING?"

"Oh. That. That's just . . . I dunno." Gearoid held up a finger and offered the bright shiny beam of light in this little murky situation. "Hey! At least it's blue! That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I am leaking purple foam, Gearhead!"

Gearoid smiled wider. Poked a finger at the rubbery tentacled creature he'd just put down. "Aww, you know that that's just the super squid team four brought back."

"I'M LEAKING PURPLE FOAM!"

"Yeah. I gotta tell ya, purple, it AIN'T your color."

"Specially not that shade a purple."

"G, get the doc."

"I mean, my sister told me that shade was invented in hell just to make bridesmaids look fat."

"The DOC, G! Go, run, scram!"

"You don't need the doc. You just need a shower. Come on."

"I am dripping purple foam!" Melvin held out both his hands, flicking droplets of purple ink. "Do I smell? I can't smell anything, do I smell?"

"Just calm down. There's nothing wrong with you that a good shower and a little Ban won't cure."

"Just tell me! Do. I. Smell?"

Gearoid hesitated, pulled an apologetic face, shrugged and went with the truth. "You reek man. I didn't want to say anything. I know how sensitive you are about that shit, but you smell so bad I think New Jersey smells better."

Melvin was getting red in the face. He lurched towards one side of the table, heading towards . . . "No, no, just . . . stay over there. Okay?" Gearoid circled, keeping the table between them.

"Wait until I get my hands on you!"

"It's the ink. You smell like rotting bait and it's going to your head."

"First the blue shit and now this? Right now I can't decide if somebody oughta put me outta my misery or put YOU outta my misery!"

"Come on. I told ya. A shower, a little bit of, you know, stuff, you'll be fine."

"Fine? FINE? I'm still mottled, here! I look like a giant bruise!"

"No ya don't. You look like a giant squid squirted ya cause a giant squid squirted ya."

Melvin paused, glared at him. "Hey, how come you don't have any of this shit on you? Weren't you the one handling the damn thing?"

"What can I say? I was on one the right end of the squid."

"Is that all you can say? I smell like bait and that's all you can say?" Melvin was turning red again.

"Calm down, Maggot. The chicks tell me they got this douche stuff that makes anything smell better. I'll ask Anya for some for ya."

"Don't you dare! Ask Botany Babe!"

"I'm not the one who's slimed! Why do I gotta ask MY girl?"

"You are gonna ask, you hear me G? You are gonna get this stuff OFF me! If you don't get this shit off me right now, I . . .I. . . . I'm going to go take a nap in your bed."

"My bed?" Gearoid winced at the thought. And the smell that was building up in the store room. And the thought of that smell in HIS room. "I'll do it. I . . . Okay Maggot, okay. Just give me a couple minutes. I'll be back. In a bit."

"A bit. Right." Melvin crossed his arms. "Tell ya what. If you're not back here in five minutes I'm heading straight for your room!"

"No way in HELL! You don't come NEAR my stuff smelling like that."

"Try me. Remember AIT? I did it once, and I can do it again."

"You wouldn't." Gearoid stabbed a finger towards his friend. "You would NOT do that."

The only answer was an evil look. A truly evil look. Gearoird gulped. "That shit . . . that's uncool."

"You know where to find me."

"No, just . . . a few minutes!"

"Five." Melvin held up a hand, fingers spread out.

Gearoid nodded. "Five minutes. Got it."

"I'm counting!"

Gearoid ran. He could almost HEAR the seconds ticking by, running through his fingers like the dripping of squid ink. He knew Maggot. The Maggot would be pacing by now, flicking ink each time he turned. Yeccch.

The beleaguered private could hear the drip-drop-drip of the last few seconds as he slunk back to the store room, pillow case slung over his shoulder. The opening door belched the reek of bait. Gearoid rocked back on his heels then forced his way into the room. He could almost see the stink hanging in the air. Melvin glared as he carefully stepped around the puddles of squid shit on the floor.

"About time." The glare sharpened, moving from his face to the pillow case G emptied on the table. "What is this stuff?"

"You got no patience. Didn't your momma ever tell ya patience is a virtue? And you sure could do with some virtue, gotta tell ya."

"Gearhead, your mama musta told ya ignorance is bliss. Cause right now you're being real ignorant."

Gearoid pointedly ignored him and started pawing through bottles and jars, babbling. ". . . and you should really cultivate patience, ya know, cause you can use some virtue, Maggot. An Italian like you, didn't you go to church? Not like they'd let you through the doors of a church. You'd catch on fire."

Maggot leaned over the table towards him and Gearoid nearly gagged, waving him back. Maggot backed up, grouching, "Only because I was following you and got caught in the back blast."

"Well. Yeah. Sort of, I can't lie about that." Gearoid shrugged apologetically.

"A'right, a'right. I'm working on my patience. Now help me out, this shit smells!"

Gearoid spilled a jar, then a bottle out onto the table. "Here, look, she sent me . . . "

"What is that, tomato paste? And is that douche?"

"I got your seaweed extract, I got your shampoo, I got dish soap, I got douche. I got cactus juice."

"FEMININE SPRAY? Are you shitting me? You want me to start smelling like a - like a - ewwww!"

"'an I got some of Slinky's vodka. Hey, don't diss the douche! My girl says it makes ya smell good ." Grabbing the bottle Gearoid used it like a squirt gun, spraying spritz, spritz . . . "There! Ain't that better than smellin' like bait?"

"Aachchc! Stop that!"

"You'll smell flowerly and fresh, the chicks go for that."

"I'll smell like a lady's crotch!"

"And some of the vodka . . ." Jeez, cocktail from hell. But friendship sometimes demanded sacrifice . . .

"That's alcohol abuse! Ahhh! Not the vodka!" Melvin leaned in and swiped his bottle.

Gearoid backed away, wiping his hands. Took an experimental sniff. "I think that helped. Whatta you think? Does that help?"

Melvin didn't sniff. He took a long draw off the vodka, swished it over his teeth, swallowed and the nodded. "Actually, yeah."

"Wait, slow down, she said you needed to get that off. We gotta go get you showered off."

"Okay." Melvin sucked down another gulp of vodka and nodded agreeably. Then paused . . . narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Wait a minute. Why the sudden hurry. Did she tell you something you're not telling me?"

"She said we oughta do it quick and she hopes it's not liposuction or something like that. Something about shit that likes fat." That didn't go over so well . . . he was getting an evil look now. "Not like that! Not like fatty fat, like blubber. You know! Like skin and stuff!"

"LIKES FAT? As in I'm going to loose more weight?"

"You should be fine. You said you lost all that weight, you can't have THAT much more fat for it to like."

"Damn straight! The doc said if I loose any more he's gonna put me back in the 'firmary!"

"Maybe it won't be so bad, Maggot. You know, just your skin and all . . ."

That didn't come out right. And Melvin sure didn't seem to think it was comforting. He stared at his skin, then up at Gearoid, then sprayed his mouthful of vodka all over and yowled, "Get it off me! Get it off me!"

"I'll meetcha at your place, Maggot! Get in the shower, man!"

"Aaaaahhhhhh!" The screamed faded down the hall. Actually, the scream kinda hiccupped down the hall since it kind of went bumpy ever time Melvin took another step. Gearoid grabbed his pillow case and followed, snickering and shaking his head. "Geez, I'm glad that ain't me. Guy's got the worst fuckin' luck."

Then, faintly and far down the hall, came, "I heard that!"

"Jesus, you got ears like a bat!"

"I heard that too! I'm going to your room, its closer!"

"Is not!"

"Sure as hell is!"

Gearoid stopped, considered relative locations and smelled the taint of squid in his future. "FUCK YOU AIN'T!"

A demented laugh and the sound of pattering military issue boots was his only answer. Gearoid took off, running for his life. Or at least for his sinuses. He reached his hall just in time to see his door slide shut. Suddenly, being in a place big enough to have private quarters wasn't so much of a privilege. After all, if he lived with other guys, they'd kick Maggot's reeky butt right back out in the hall. Gearoid slammed up against the door that always opened automatically, but didn't open this time. "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!"

He pounded on his door but the only answer was a maniacal giggle. "Maggot! MAGGOT! Open the damn door!"

"Open it yourself! Whoops, nope, I think it's locked."

"It's locked for me, Maggot, but I'll get Major Hairboy! Alla the doors open for him!"

"Mwhahahahahaha!"

"You do NOT get that shit in my digs! You hear me squiddy?"

"I ain't in the Navy, Gearhead! Try again!"

"That's it. You take over MY room, I'll take over YOURS!"

"Oh, you never told me you like silk sheets. How come I don't have silk sheets?"

"Oh, like you never found anything that fell off a truck."

"Smooooth!"

"You are so dead."

"Silk sheets! And blue silk undies?"

"You don't have silk sheets cause you're a savage and got no culture."

"Are you holding out on me man?"

"You ain't fondling my undies are ya?"

"Mmmmm, so soft!"

"You get your squid stinky paws OFF my drawers you damn squid-scented perv!"

"They even match my complexion!"

"You're worsen' that plant! Least it tried to get me off after it fondled my drawers."

"I can do that, but I don't think your girl would like that very much."

"You get your paws OFF my undies you freak! You listen to me, Maggot, you listen good, you get 'em off or I tell The Ponytail you got the hots for his ass."

"Wow! When did you get leather furniture? You are holding out on me, aren't you? It's so soft! Is this naugahyde?"

"Ponytail, man, Ponytail! And believe me, he'd welcome the news. I got it on good authority he ain't been laid since Clinton's first term."

"Go ahead, tell him. I'll just tell Anya and she'll crush him for me."

"You quit it or I will have you shaved, sterilized and destroyed!"

"I've already lost all my hair, try again! Ohh, your bed is a lot more comfortable than mine."

"GODDAMN IT! I . . . Maggot, okay. You can use my shower. Just stop touching my stuff and let me in there! OH GAWD! Are you getting that shit on my bed?"

"What?" Melvin's voice was suddenly normal. Or as close as he ever got. No evil chortles or maniacal laughter. And the lock clicked open. "Come on, G, like I would really ruin your shit."

"It's just, that's the stuff I brought from home. And you said you already got that squid shit on my clothes - my understuff. You din't get it on my bed did you? I jerk off in that bed! How'll I ever spank the sergeant again with that smell in there!"

Melvin rolled his eyes then stood back to reveal an untouched room. "You and the sergeant and his privates are safe, Gearhead. Like I'd do that to you."

"You didn't touch my stuff?" Gearoid stared in relieved wonder. "Not even my boxers?"

"Of course not. Unlike you, I'm not evil, twisted and horrendously pissy. I just happen to listen when people talk, and you girlfriend loves to talk!"

Gearoid sniffed, snorted at the lingering perfume of bait, and slunk in with his pillow case full of stuff. "Well . . . right. I knew that."

"Can we finally . . ." Melvin paused, raised a hand and sniffed it. Sniffed his way up his arm. Sniffed his pit, which Gearoid coulda told him was pointless since they always stank. "Ewwww! It's getting worse!"

"Well, you been standing around torturing me! Whadda you expect?"

His only answer was a panicked break for the bathroom and the sound of the shower coming on. Gearoid sighed and winced at the bitter realization that the Ancients didn't use shower curtains. He'd seen enough naked men in showers that he knew it was survivable. But some were more ghastly than others.

The patter of running water didn't drown out the splat of wet clothes or the grunts of a wet Maggot. Gearoid clutched his pillow case tighter and girded his loins. A short, choked howl finally brought him the sticking point - at least the one that'd let him stick his head around the corner, eyes tightly shut and jar held extended in one hand. He waved it until he felt water, then wet fingers closed around his wrist. "Here, Maggot, I got some stuff for you."

"It's not coming off!"

"You barely started. Here. Try the cactus juice." Eyes still squinched shut, he waved the bottle again.

"G, get in here and help me out, man!"

"Just take the stuff, Maggot! I don't wanna see nothing kinky there, you know."

"I still stink!"

"Maggot, the sad truth is, you always st -"

"Not like this! I know, I know, it's my back! I can't reach my back! Scrub my back for me, G!"

"Try harder, Mags! Come on! You got squirted with squid juice! It's gotta make ya limber."

"G!" It sounded like Melvin was playing Twister in there, thrashing and splashing and squeaky feet on tile.

Gearoid took one brief peek and scrunched his eyes shut again. "Oh jeeze."

"I would scrub your back! In fact, I did! After the guys dyed you green before you left for Basic, remember how I spent an hour scrubbing your back because you wouldn't quit whining?"

Clearly he'd done something really bad in the twelve years since his last confession, cause God sure did have it out for him this year. Gearoid squeezed his eyes shut and shucked his jacket, slid under the shower, hands out and bumping into stuff. "God, god, this is so wrong."

"You're just helping a buddy man, like I did you. Don't you remember?"

"I don't remember nothng. I was so drunk."

"Come on, help me out here. Its not like I'm gonna grope you or anything."

"You did last time."

"Liar. All I did was wash your back, and you know it."

"No I don't! The last thing I remember was drinking the worm!" Jeez, but he really did stink! Gearoid never had liked fishing and the way Maggot smelled was like a flashback to bad fishing trips of his youth.

Maggot was wriggling around like a stuck worm, trying to see his back. "Scrub harder, man! You gotta remember, it was that time we got soused in that dive in Texas."

"I swear, the worm's the only thing I remember - tasted like oysters."

"Ewwwwww! Stop, I'm gonna puke, G!"

"Little, wormy oysters." Maggot spun around to glare at him and Gearoid closed his eyes again, fast, and reached for one of the bottled he'd brought with him.

"G? That's not the bottle. But you don't have to stop on my account."

"Oh crap!" He let go fast. "You are sick!"

"Yeah." The evil chortle was back. "So?"

"Sick, sick man. Tell me this is causa that blue shit."

"I've always been like this, you know that. Its part of my charm."

". . . I ain't even gonna TRY to go there. Here. Try the cactus shit. My babe says it's good shit."

"Hmmmm, really? If it works, I'll have to get some for Anya."

"Why? You planning to smear squid ink on her too?"

"Ha. Ha. No. She's always going on about how nasty it is to get 'bodily fluids' offa her stuff. So this is good stuff?"

"Yeah, my babe uses it to get sap offa her stuff. Says it's better than degreaser."

"Oh, GOD, what is THAT smell? That ain't the squid . . ."

Gearoid gagged. "Was that you? It sure wasn't me!"

Maggot was making noises like a cat with a hairball. "Did you eat beans again for lunch?"

"It ain't me. It's the cactus stuff."

"I gotta get this stuff off me, Gearhead. I'm serious, I'm gonna be sick!"

The noises he made were enough to have Gearoid's guts roiling in sympathy. He pinched Maggot's side. "You're already sick. Just calm down, okay?"

"Puke sick!"

"I won't tell no one you made passes . . .ewww!" He'd been hoping Maggot was making it up. The proof wasn't pretty and Gearoid jumped, trying to avoid the fallout.

"Oh, that is so dis. . . I think I'm gonna be sick too." Oh lord, that was it. Sympathy gagging turned into sympathy puking.

"Oh, oh, gaaagggggh!"

Gearoid hadn't felt this nasty in a long time. This was like coordinated Olympic heaves, a duet in puke.

Melvin's thick, pukey voice caught his attention. "G, get the doc. Right now. I think I just saw my insides floating away."

Oh, like he hadn't had that idea himself already! He pointed out, "I would, but I just puked my toenails into the crapper. I can't walk without my toenails."

Bodies sliding down tile made a squealing sound. Gearoid had never noticed that before, but that was sure the noise Maggot made sitting down in the shower. "I think I'll just sit here for a minute."

Panting, Gearoid also planted his scrawny butt on the ground. "I think I just saw the wafers from my first communion."

"G? I don't feel so hot. Think it's that squid stuff?"

Gearoid rolled over onto his knees and started to crawl. "Crap, I feel like a snail. I'm leaving a goddamn slime trail too."

"Because I tell ya, I haven't puked that much since my drill sgt found me drunk and made me do cannon cockers! You ok, G?"

Gearoid paused in the doorway, butt in the air, arms splayed out across the floor from dragging himself forward like an inchworm. "I dunno about the squid shit, Maggot, but hearing people puke makes me puke. Sliiimy. I'm sliiiimy."

"Well, you better leave soon, because I'm gonna be sick again! Gagggggh!"

For the life of him he couldn't remember anything bad enough for God to do this to him, but still, it was being done. He tried not to listen to Maggot hurl and pulled himsel another foot towards the door. "Mmmm, how lovely. Cactus scented vomit. Yummy yummy."

It took him several aborted tries that passed in what felt like years, but Gearoid finally made it. He tried for the intercom, but intercoms required that you be able to stand up to use them cause they just weren't located for the convenience of people on floors. Nonetheless, it was the intercom that got them help. He was able to finally make use of the thing indirectly by falling out the door, where three disgusted lab techs took one look - not to mention sniff - of him and ran shrieking down the hall, screaming about a new contagion. They, in turn, bowled over a pair of marines, who girded their loins and did their duty by taking a cautious look down the hall. After which they used the intercom to call Weir and report a possible outbreak of some unknown - and decidedly stinky - disease. She, in turn, put the whole section into lockdown and summoned the medical staff. It encouraged her that the city did not recognize whatever was happening as an outbreak. Had it had a sense of smell, the city doubtless would have attempted to eject the entire quadrant.

The medical team had practiced. They were fast, efficient, professional, ready for death, blood, misery. They weren't ready for a really bad, off-key rendition of '99 bottles of beer on the wall' and two paralytic privates pickled in homemade vodka, but you took things as you found 'em. And the medical team found their two miscreants in the enlisted quarters. They packed them in Tyvek, hosed down the room, the hall, and the store room and hauled their booty off.

It took a few hours to put together the whole picture. Between the singing, puking and hallucinations, they expected to find more than just bathtub hooch implicated, but in the Pegasus galaxy who could be sure? One puzzle resolved after an anonymous tip from the botany studies suggested the presence of a possible experimental cleaning substance which was highly efficacious, but which was not advised for human contact due to certain shortcomings, possibly reputed to include nausea, delirium and uncontrollable flatulence. No one had ever wanted to do the testing to be sure, but there were rumors . . . The presence of the contraband alcohol was also highly controversial but whispered hints from the department of physics and engineering suggested that the chemists might have tried to develop an applied rather than theoretical model of fermentation outcomes in Athosian crops. It was a rumor the chemists hotly denied but the existence of the vodka was indisputable.

Gearoid woke up several hours later to find a lovely and extremely muscular woman leaning over him, studying him closely. "EEP! Anya?"

"Ah. You're awake."

"Uh, yeah. Uhh . . ." He craned his head, looking for Maggot. "Where's . . ."

"Over there." She pointed to the bed next to his, where another nurse straightened with a disappointed look. Nurse2 shook her head. "Sort of damson plum purple. Damn, and I had my money on classic dynasty jade."

Anya grinned. "Better luck next time. This one's normal colored."

"What?" Gearoid struggled into a sitting position. "What are you talking about?"

Anya shrugged. "Well . . . after the blue goo incident, and then with purple stuff . .."

Nurse2 joined them. "We've got a pool for what colors you guys turn." She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "There's a twenty in it for you if he winds up jade green."

Anya gave him a gimlet stare. "Of course, there might be a broken leg in it for you too."

Gearoid gulped. "Right. Got ya. Jade. Leg."

The nurses exchanged a look and nodded. Then turned as a hoarse whisper from the bed next to them announced another return to consciousness.

"Um, gee?"

"Right here, Maggot."

"Remind me never to get drunk around you again. Weren't we supposed to be on light duty?"

"Um, yeah, about that . . ."

"What happened?"

"You puked. And puked."

"I did?"

"And puked."

"You said that already."

"And puked."

"I'm seein' a theme developin' here."

"Yeah. Well. It was gross."

"Is that why I have an IV hooked up to me again? And why do you have an IV?"

"You, I think you got one for the squid shit. Me, I got one causa you."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. That whole sympathy puke thing. Sorry. Do I still smell?"

"Like I'm gonna get close enough to tell?"

"Or did you have beans for lunch again?"

Gearoid sneered. "I didn't have beans. You smell."

Melvin sighed. "Still?"

"Yeah. Cause anything I had for lunch is long gone."

"Man, this sucks."

"Well it's your fault. You know not to get squid shit shot up your nose!"

"Sorry! You're the one who squeezed the damn thing! I was only trying to help! And besides, I just got out, remember? Like I wanna be back here!"

"Least you get to snuggle with your honey." Gearoid sneered then looked over as a throat was noisily cleared.

It might have been noisy, but maybe Maggot still had squid ink in his ears cause he went on, "Not the way I look right now. Purple?"

The throat cleared again. This time Maggot noticed too. A stocky, black-haired man who was entirely too familiar stood in the door, eyeing them both. Or 'booth', as they'd heard him pronounce the word. "Gentlemen, I can't say as I'm any too happy to have you in my infirmary. You're both a wee bit rank. If yeh dinnae mind me asking, what in the name of God were yeh smearing all over yerselves?"

Maggot looks at Gearoid. Gearoid looked back. The two of them shrugged. Beckett walked over to stand between their beds, studying them. "I hesitate to ask yeh for details, though I should let you know that as a doctor, I will hold anything you tell me in confidence."

Gearoid pointed at Melvin and fell back on long habit. "It's his fault."

A sudden coughing fit had Maggot turning purple. Or more purple than he already was. He pointed back, "This is all cause of his squid. It was your squid that started it!"

Beckett patted the air in a placating gesture, "Please, I don' care to know what you gentlemen like to call them!"

Maggot completely ignored him. "You wanted to show me your squid, and then couldn't keep a hold of it!"

The doctor made a face. "Yeh can play with yer squid to yer heart's content but do I need to give yeh the talk on safe . . fishin'?"

Maggot stared at him. "What are you talking about? It dropped on the floor and when I went to pick it up, it squirted me!"

Gearhead, on the other hand, finally paid attention to what was actually being said. "Oh. OH! No, it's not like that, I mean, he may be like that But I like GIRLS!"

Maggot turned to glare at him. "What do you mean I may be like that? Like what?"

"Ah. So one of yeh fell doon then." The Scottish accent was getting thicker and the doctor was turning redder.

Maggot turned a dazed stared on Gearoid. "G? Like what? What're you talking about?"

"Squid, you idiot, squid." Gearoid air humped under the blanket. "He thinks you were squirtin' your squid!"

"It was your squid that got squirted, I was just supposed to help today, remember?"

"Ah, but ah actually thought you might be . . . squirtin' each others' squids," Beckett was watching them both wide-eyed. If Gearoid had been paying more attention he might have noticed the way the doctor was biting down on the inside of his cheek and the bright look of his eyes, but as it was . . .

As it was, Maggot put his foot in it again. "There was only one squid, and it got away after it squirted me!"

"So, do yeh need help often then squirtin' yer squid, laddie? You shoulda come talk to me before then!"

Maggot stared at him, baffled. "Huh?"

"NO! NO! NOT MY SQUID!" Gearoid gesticulated wildly. "He means the squid, not MY squid!"

Maggot glared at him again. "It was too your squid!"

Beckett's eyebrows went up. "An' was there another squid involved then?"

Maggot huffed self-righteously. "IT was HIS squid. I'm not taking responsibility for that thing!" Glanced sideways, "G, why are you turning red?"

Beckett nodded knowingly. "Right. So then he was fondlin' yer squid. Ah see. An' what made yeh decide to use the . . . er. . . cactus juice?"

Gearoid stared between the doctor and his buddy in horror. "NONONONONo! That is NOT how it happened!"

Maggot helpfully offered, "Because we wanted to get the smell off, and we ran out of douche."

"Douche." Beckett coughed and had to take a note on the pad he held. When he finally looked up he wore a solemn, patient expression. "Yeh know if yeh'd come to me I coulda supplied yeh with some perfectly useful gel fer that. We DO have KY."

Maggot tilted his head thoughtfully. "Does KY take the smell out?"

Gearoid was practically hopping up and down in bed, "SHUT UP MAGGOT! SHUT UP NOW!"

Maggot stared back at him, confused. "Huh? What did I do?"

Beckett's voice sounded suspiciously squeaky as he noted, "Ah'm not aware of any smell in particular that KY can remove, though ye're both a bit ripe from that cactus juice. But if ye're havin' problems with phantom smells we could look further or Ah could set up a talk with Dr. Heightmeyer."

Gearoid couldn't take it anymore. He leaned over to Maggot and hissed, "He thinks we were doing a circle jerk!

Maggot stared at him, all color but purple slowly draining from his face. "What?"

Gearoid made a motion over his groin, "You know ..."

"No! What? Why? No! NONONO! It was nothing like that!" He glared at Beckett. "You are a sick man!"

Beckett turned about three shades redder and visibly bit down on the inside of his cheeks "Yeh need to calm down or ye'll be about pullin' the IV out."

Gearoid nodded, then held his nose. "Not to mention wafting that stink around."

Beckett nodded cheerfully, "And there is that."

Maggot threw his hands in the air, "That damn squid squirted me, and then we couldn't get the smell off, so I went to his room to take a shower and he found some stuff to get the smell off and then I drank the vodka and started puking and then I don't remember anything!"

Gearoid rolled his eyes. "Maggot! Calm down!

"But he thinks . . . ! G, he thinks we were doing a circle jerk! All because that damn squid of yours couldn't hold it in when you dropped it!"

Gearoid patted the air, trying to calm him. "I know! I know! Look Doc, I can SHOW you the squid!"

"Oh, no, no, Ah don't think there's any need fer that." Beckett shook his head quickly. "Yer . . . yer squid was perfectly fine when we checked you. If a little marinated in cactus juice."

Maggot turned frantic eyes on the doctor, "Doc, you know my girl, Anya, how can you even think - um - uh" He broke off, turning green under blue under purple, "Oooh, I think . . . G, cover your ears and close your eyes, I'm gonna be sick again!"

Beckett raced to get a bedpan under his chin and Gearoid pulled a pillow over his head, groaning. Maggot was still trying to uphold his honor in gasping phrases, "No, not that squid, the squid in the lab!

Beckett tsked. "Ah'd ask you to be more discreet in yer activities, laddies."

Maggot tried to glare before another spasm got him. "WHAT ACTIVITIES? Bleeeccchhh."

"Yer, ahem, carnal encounters."

Maggot stopped puking long enough to glare. "Ask Sherman, the LT. She gave us the squid. The one the team brought back this morning!" Then he planted his face in the pan again for more wretches. "Sorry, G! Bleeecchhh!"

That was it. That was his limit. Gearoid scrambled out of bed, grabbing his IV stand and making a break for the door. "Ooops! Gotta pee!"

Beckett stifled a snicker and called, "That's not where the toilets are!"

"It's where MY toilet is! I'm outta here! I love ya Maggot, but yer on yer own!"

Maggot waved wistfully between heaves, "Bye, Gearhead. Come visit soon! Bleeecchchh."

Beckett tsked gently and snorted in amusement. "There there, lad. Now, this squid. Was it fresh and which planet did they bring it from?"

"Which planet . . . you always knew the squid was real, didn't you?"

"Oh, aye." Beckett grinned. "Now, do you remember the planet they were on?"

Maggot shrugged, finally finished. "I don't know. It was still twitching, which is why G dropped it."

"Do yeh think he'll get back to his room okay? He seemed rather . . . frantic."

Maggot nodded. "He'll be all right. We've made it back to base in worse condition. Trust me. Oysters and worms and stuff." He shuddered.

Beckett eyed him, thought about asking and then shook himself. Hard. He'd learned enough about their oysters and, worse, worms, he was pretty sure of that. Whether he wanted to or not.

For now, he was going to count his blessings, his ignorance among 'em. Oh my yes.

Well, of COURSE there'll be more. Maybe some day Maggot'll even be normal colored!

Or not.

TBC