A/N

Belisse: Sleeve? My arm is the only thing up my sleeve. (And if you believe that...)

Amaruk: I think the reason why I find it easy to do the humor bits is because I'm a wiseass in real life! (Plus, humor was the only way to get through residency.)

Kate K, daffydonald: Thanks. More to come

Pike2: You're lucky your plot bunnies are only jumping up and down. Mine are slapping me upside the head.

jennamajig, nebbyj: Yes, I freely admit that I'm running Carson ragged. But he has inner demons he needs to exorcise

I'm glad people liked the chair bit. It occurred to me that we've never really learned what happens to the user when he/she is in there

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"What the hell was that?" demanded Sheppard to no one in particular. His face had a decidedly green tinge to it. "That was one of the most disgusting things I've ever eaten! Well, since the Academy, anyway."

"I believe it was one of their delicacies," said Teyla. "It does not seem to have the same... unfortunate effect on my people."

The team was walking back towards the stargate after concluding an initial round of talks with the people of this world, who called themselves simply "The Tillers." Theirs was a thoroughly agrarian society. They cultivated an amazing variety of fruits, vegetables, and grains, and they were quite interested in learning techniques to improve crop yield. The day had gone well until the end, when the leader of the Tillers offered them a ceremonial fruit in celebration of their anticipated agreement. McKay had declined, insisting that he could smell citrus. Ford had been surveying the route back to the gate. That left Teyla and Sheppard to try the new offering. Teyla had eaten it with evident enjoyment. Sheppard had reacted... somewhat differently.

As if on cue, Sheppard staggered to a halt, then ran behind a nearby tree. Sounds of vomiting could be heard coming from his direction. He returned a few minutes later, looking only slightly better. But he pushed away Teyla's offer of water.

After a few minutes, the entire process repeated itself. This time, Teyla insisted that Sheppard take a few sips of water. "You do not wish to become dehydrated," she said in the same tone that she used when scolding him about weapons practice. "It will make things that much more complicated."

"What's complicated about it? The stuff just didn't agree with me, that's all. I'm praying to the porcelain god for relief."

"Drink!" said Teyla, wondering what the porcelain god was.

"Wow, you sounded just like Beckett when you said that," admired Ford.

"Without the brogue," McKay pointed out. "But scarily, Lieutenant Ford is correct."

They walked on. After two more episodes, Sheppard was staggering more than walking. "Gotta... stop for a minute." he finally said.

"Sir?" This from Ford.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant!" Sheppard snapped. Teyla lifted an eyebrow. "Well, I am kinda dizzy. And I'm sort of seeing spots."

"You are not fine," said Teyla firmly. "Lieutenant, how far are we from the gate?"

It was McKay who answering, looking down at one of his energy detectors. "We're close. Another kilometer, maybe."

McKay and Teyla slowly eased Sheppard to the ground. Teyla told Ford to run ahead to the gate and radio to Atlantis what had occurred. He nodded and left. The three remaining team members sat in silence that was broken only by a low groan. "Feels like my gut's on fire." Sheppard gasped. This, from him, was an admission of pure agony.

Teyla touched his forehead. "You seem to have a fever as well, Major."

Trying to break the tension, McKay cracked. "Well, no mystery as to where you're spending the night tonight."

"Great. Carson's... got enough on his plate... as it is." There was nothing Teyla or McKay could say in response to that, as they also had seen how Dr. Beckett had been working himself into exhaustion.

About ten minutes later, they heard footsteps approaching them on the path. Sheppard tensed and Teyla put a hand on her weapon, but it was only Ford returning. He nodded to McKay and Teyla. "Beckett's getting ready for the Major. Wants him there ASAP."

This time Ford and McKay supported Sheppard as Teyla took point. They moved as quickly as they could, but by the time they reached the DHD Sheppard was doubled over. "Shit!" growled Ford as he stabbed at the buttons. They went through the gate the instant after they transmitted the GDO code.

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Someone was speaking insistently through his earpiece in a British accent. It took Carson a moment to answer, as he was busy waiting for the ringing in his head to die down. Each time he'd experimented with one of the cubes, it took more out of him. Now, for the first time since sitting in the control chair, he'd been knocked out by one of them. He figured it was probably dangerous, but it was the only hope he had left to find something to help Michelle.

Carson finally tapped on his earpiece. "Peter, here I am."

There was a pause. Then, "Thank goodness." As Carson wondered how long he'd been out to get such a response, Elizabeth broke in. "We've just heard from Lieutenant Ford. Major Sheppard appears to have been poisoned by some of the native fruit. They're inbound with an ETA of about 15 minutes."

Carson swore. "Bloody hell! Once. Just once it would be nice to do a routine post-mission check. I'll even let them have a few bruises. I have never seen four people with such bad luck!" As he ranted, his hands were busy gathering supplies. He thought about it, but decided against instituting a quarantine. This sounded purely food-related.

"How many times has it been just this month?" he muttered.

Evidently it had been loud enough to activate the two-way mike, for Peter helpfully replied. "Six." Carson could hear the smirk in Peter's voice at his next words. "Pay up."

"Aye. Two teabags. Scoundrel." He moved towards the door. "All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's go!"

Ford had just stumbled through the gate when the medical team arrived in the control room. A moment later McKay and Teyla materialized carrying an agony-racked Sheppard. They gently eased him to the ground and moved out of the way. The medical team rushed in and began to work.

Carson did a quick assessment of his own. Sheppard was pale and his breath was coming in short gasps. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Carson tapped one of the medics on the shoulder. "He'll need two large bore IV's with fluids running wide open. Keep an eye on his airway, we may need to intubate if he gets any worse."

Carson then knelt down next to Sheppard. "Lad, can you be telling me what happened, now?"

"Tribal 'delicacy'. Had no idea it was so damn toxic to humans."

Carson asked Sheppard for the rest of his symptoms, noted them down. He was a little frustrated that they hadn't tried to bring a sample back, but he would make do without one. He hoped.

As they reached the infirmary, Sheppard, in a lucid moment, saw McKay's undisguised worry. No doubt McKay would vociferously deny it later, though. Sheppard grinned. "Hey, Rodney. At least it wasn't you who ate something weird this time."

It worked. As McKay prepared a retort, Carson silenced him with a look. "Colonel," he said kindly. "Shut up."

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Elizabeth walked towards the infirmary several hours later. Steel had crept into Beckett's normally easygoing manner when he'd kicked everyone out before. Elizabeth figured it would do no harm to just peek in, though.

However, she was horrified by what she saw when she did look in on Sheppard. He lay unconscious on one of the beds and was connected to more wires than she thought physically possible. A ventilator was breathing for him. Before she could stop herself, Elizabeth let out a small cry, which she quickly muffled.

Too late, though. She'd been made. Carson looked up from a readout at her and sighed. He tried to look stern but a smile played on his lips. "You're late. I expected you to try to sneak in here at least an hour ago," he said in mock reproach.

Elizabeth walked over to the still figure on the bed. "How bad is it, actually?"

"Not great, not horrible. I think it's some sort of toxin native to the soil -- better scrap the trade deal. We tried to pump his stomach when we brought him down here. He didn't tolerate it well and became very agitated. I decided to put him on the vent as a precaution. Bloody good thing I did, too. He went into anaphylactic shock not long after."

"So far I'm hearing the 'not great.' Where's the 'not terrible'?"

Carson nodded. "It looks like the swelling's going down a bit. He's sedated and chemically paralyzed for now, but we'll probably be able to pull back on that soon."

It was Elizabeth's turn to nod, and she just stood there looking at the Major for awhile. Finally, Carson laid a gentle hand on her back. "Elizabeth, neither of us can do anything for him right now. Go get some sleep. I promise I'll keep you updated." Elizabeth gave no sign she'd even heard him. "Or... I could just let you pull up a chair and wait."

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Ford aimlessly walked along one of the many balconies that surrounded the city. He tended to do that after a mission had gone bad.

He'd been doing it a lot lately.

Ford tried not to think about anything. He just walked. Placing one foot in front of the other, he let his body slowly relax out of its hair-trigger tension. That mission had almost been a serious clusterfuck. Worse, it wasn't something he could have fixed. 'Fire on the fruit on my mark!' Yeah, right.

Someone was ahead of him on the walkway. Ford smiled as he realized it was Michelle. He liked hanging out with her. They shared an interest in surfing and both played the guitar. She also had a hell of a voice. There was nothing serious going on between them now, but Ford could definitely see something evolving.

If there was time, that is.

The treatments that Beckett had tried didn't seem to be working, and both Michelle and the Doc knew it. She looked weaker and more frail by the day. Beckett, on the other hand, was driving himself like a madman trying to find a solution. He'd been the same way on Hoff, too.

Ford wasn't sure if he should disturb Michelle, but didn't want to ignore her. So he deliberately began whistling loudly (and off key) so she could hear him coming and slip away if she chose. Instead, he heard her laugh softly. "Hello, Aiden." she said. "Trying to provide a defense against the Wraith?" Then she coughed.

Ford pretended to be offended. "I'll have you know that I have perfect pitch."

"Really?"

"No."

"Screwball." Michelle coughed again, this time harder. It took her a minute or so to catch her breath. "I feel like crap."

"Dr. Beckett's a smart guy. He'll come up with something."

"I don't think so, Aiden. Short of finding a way back to Earth, there isn't much more he can do. And he's going to kill himself if he keeps trying."

"Don't talk like that. We'll find more technologically advanced people in this galaxy. Not all of them can be nutjobs like the Hoffans and the Genii. Someone will be able to help."

"Uh, huh. And how many more accidents like Major Sheppard's will we have to experience? It isn't worth it for just one person."

They stood in silence for awhile, looking out into the darkness. Michelle began to cough a third time, but this time was unable to stop. As she started to choke, Ford shook himself into action. Jabbing his earpiece, he screamed "Peter, we need medical help here NOW!"

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TBC