Chapter 8

He woke again and for an instant he was alarmed - he was alone in the infirmary again, and for a second he recalled the fear he'd experienced the first time, but when he half-sat he could see the rumpled bed beside him. And, now that he was awake, he heard quiet voices beyond the screen, recognized them.

"...be sure all the plumbing's intact, and that's the best way to tell, if not the most delicate..."

"Yes, Carson, I pooped. Can I go now?"

Pooped was an inherently funny word, Sheppard had always thought, and it seemed Carson did too. And when Carson laughed, it was hard not to join him.

McKay peered around the edge of the screen, grinned when he saw Sheppard.

"'Bout time," he said. "Here." He tossed Sheppard a bundle of clothes. "Ford picked them up for us. Sneakers, too. Under your bed. Grab a shower and get dressed, they're waiting for us."

"Pooped," Sheppard said, and snickered.

"Better than sh….omething else," McKay said with dignity.

Beckett joined them, after advising Control that the patients were officially discharged, and the three of made for the conference room where the guests from Earth and assorted others waited. Sam stood, smiling, and - to McKay's evident surprise and delight - hugged him fiercely.

"Don't go doing that again," she told him severely, but the effect was marred by the broad smile she wore. "And you..." she poked Sheppard in the arm "be more careful."

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned. "Absolutely, ma'am."

oOo

There was a general babble of chatter that ensued, and Sheppard caught a glimpse of Weir in the midst of it, looking more at ease than she had for months. He made his way over to her.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Never better," she replied. "Thankful."

He stuck his hands in his pockets, eyes finding McKay with ease in the crowd.

"Me too," he agreed.

oOo

The quarters they'd been assigned bore a striking similarity to a dorm, four rooms opening onto a common area, with a balcony. The impromptu party was over, and Sam was sitting on the couch, staring out over the railing at the sea, seeing memories.

"Penny."

She started slightly, turned to see Daniel approaching. He was in his nightclothes, which - given the situations they often found themselves in offworld - could be considered casual day clothes. The t-shirt had been a gift from Sam from a very early Christmas, it said 'Linguists use their tongue' in hieroglyphs, Sumerian script, and Norse runes; and had been corrected in marker by Daniel and washed roughly a thousand times. The grey sweats were standard issue, and had been washed two thousand times.

"Teal'c's asleep, and your dad's off wandering the city. Whatcha thinking about?"

"How men keep their clothes until there aren't two fabric atoms left to rub together," she said, indicating the space next to her. "Stuff. Not much."

Daniel sat. "You didn't tell him you were engaged," he observed, stretching out, sock feet on the clear block of indeterminate purpose that had been pressed into service as a coffee table.

"Nope." She pulled her knees up and rested her chin on her crossed arms, looking at his feet. She'd been raised that feet belong on the floor, not on the table, but it was a different galaxy. And her feet were on the sofa. She grinned to herself. Maybe it was because her father was with them that she remembered it.

"Are you going to?"

She turned her attention back to the ocean. "Nope."

Daniel glanced at her, she felt the movement. "He has a crush on you," he observed.

"No kidding." She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, and mostly succeeded. It wasn't his fault, she should have known better. Hugging. It was the hugging that had been the bad idea.

"Just saying. So..." and he changed the subject with alacrity "what're you up to tomorrow?"

"Sheppard's going to give me a tour, while you and Rodney play with artifacts. Sounds like fun..." she added.

"Can't wait!" Daniel's enthusiasm was unfeigned. "Some of the stuff is incredible. He's started a dictionary, too."

"We'll swing by and pick you up for dinner, then, or you'll both forget to eat." Dinner. With Rodney. He'd lost weight; she'd noticed when she'd hugged him so tightly.

Again with the hugging.

He nodded. "Thanks."

She knew he expected more, but she just didn't know if she wanted to discuss it. It was something she'd love to have talked to Janet about - the pang of loss still hurt - but Daniel? She let the silence build, and finally Daniel took the hint.

"Time for me to hit the hay," he said, and yawned exaggeratedly, making a production of rising.

She looked at him as he stood. How many other things had they seen each other through, she realized. And he would understand her quandary "Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

She wanted to say more, but the words didn't come as quickly as she'd hoped. She looked at him, wishing he could read her mind. He seemed to understand, partly at least, and sat again.

"Sam?"

She stared out the window again. "I was a bad judge of character," she said quietly. "and now I really like him." Oh, great way to start, she thought. Sounds like a grade six sleepover.

"Yeah - well, he's found himself. Know what? I like him too."

"Daniel?" She suspected she looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Yes?"

"I'm engaged, I shouldn't feel this way, but I really, really like him. Something inside is telling me to get to know him better." She bit her lip and stopped when she realized what she was doing. It was a bad habit. Daniel was looking at her expectantly.

"It's telling me to get to know him a lot better." It had scared her more than she'd known, standing there while her father worked to close the terrible wound. It was a sense of impending loss, of an opportunity squandered. Not that any of their previous encounters had been - romantic - but nonetheless he was someone who would understand what it was like to be the go-to person, the one everyone looked to for answers…and she kept coming back to the darn hug. It had felt so natural.

"I want to take a couple cups of coffee and go to his quarters…" she trailed off, uncomfortably. "Daniel, I'm engaged!"

And the light dawned.

"Oh." He paused. "Oh," he said again, in a different tone of voice.

"What do I do?" she asked softly. "I think of Pete, and it should take those other thoughts out of my head, but it doesn't."

Daniel regarded her evenly.

"It's not like I've suddenly fallen for him, but still...I don't know..."

She watched him, worried that she'd spilled too much, but he pondered what she said, and sat back finally.

"Fake it," he said flatly.

"Pardon?"

"Pretend. Sam, if you pursued this now, it would haunt you in ways you couldn't imagine. Trust me." He caught her gaze, held it. "Pretend you don't feel what you feel. We're gone, soon, and you're married a few weeks later, and this will just be a memory."

She sighed, glanced out at the waves rolling in, and then stood.

"I think I'll crash too," she said. "You're right. You usually are." Maybe she was just tired. A good night's sleep would help. But she knew, somehow, that sleep might be a tad reluctant to come tonight.

"I usually am," he agreed blandly. "Walk you to your room?"

oOo

"You know what Carson would say if he saw you in here."

Sheppard crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe, looking at McKay.

"You know what Carson would say if he saw you walking around at this hour of the night." McKay replied. "Besides, I'm just grabbing some discs and my notes. I can do what I need to in my room."

"Carter seems nice. I'm taking her on the grand tour tomorrow." He grinned. "Jealous?" he asked.

"Oh, absolutely. Wait, no, I'm not." He beckoned. "If you're going to stand there, be useful."

Sheppard sauntered in, and McKay thrust two large folders in his direction, along with several disassembled bits of something and a pocket computer.

"I think she likes you better than she used to. That's what Elizabeth seemed to think, anyway."

McKay paused in his collecting of what appeared to be most of the materials in the lab, nodded. "Yeah. She's changed, somehow."

"But of course, you haven't." The words were out before he could think, and he firmed his jaw, angry with himself. It was a sore point for the scientist. It was an observation that he didn't want to hear about himself. He met McKay's eyes with equanimity, though, and McKay started to say something, then stopped. He finished packing the last of the items into the box.

The silence stretched. Sheppard sighed.

"Come on," he said. "You can walk me to my quarters. I've got a bottle of something that Carson would kill for, and there's about two shots left."

He picked up a laptop that had somehow evaded the general gathering of material.

"I was saving it for a special occasion, and to be blunt, us being not dead is as special as I can think of."

McKay retrieved the laptop and returned it to its place.

"That one, I don't need," he said. "Lead on."