THE PINK GAS
PART FIVE: NIGHT-SWIMMING
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"Explain to me why we aren't in a puddle jumper?"
"How'd you like me to land it?" Sheppard snarled out again, "Maybe drop a rope to him and tell him to climb up?"
"We could have dumped a rescue swimmer in after him and hauled him up in basket,'" Ford joked.
"He'd kill us when he found out," The major pointed out. He didn't understand Beckett's hesitation when it came to stargate travel or flying puddle jumpers. However, he did respect the man's slow to anger temper. Sheppard had learned early in his military career that it was the easy going, fun loving types that you did not want to push too far.
Their conversation had been interrupted when a puddle jumper flew over head, searching the black water.
Sheppard, McKay, Ford and Teyla headed out in a military inflatable. To McKay's eye, it seemed more ocean worthy than most harbor boats.
McKay grudgingly conceded that for once Ford and his military arsenal were both impressive and well planned out. Who the hell would go to the lost city of Atlantis and not bring some type of boat? Ford's superior smile still irritated Rodney just a bit when the Lieutenant quickly pointed out he was a Marine and they were always prepared.
Rodney was waiting for Sheppard to flash a condom but realized he wasn't a Marine. The comment earned him a scowl.
It took only a few minutes to launch the large sturdy inflatable with its own small version of a pilot house, onto the black ocean. Two puddle jumpers had already started a grid search.
"You see him yet?" Rodney asked as he stood at the starboard side of the inflatable, scanning the water with a spot light. The coiled spring cord slapped gently against his leg.
"No," Sheppard answered as he piloted the boat slowly around the North Pier.
Sheppard tapped his ear piece, "Zelenka?" They had left the scientist sitting on the dock with a laptop computer balanced on his knees furiously typing in search parameters, while Weir passed back and forth mobilizing a medical team over the comlink.
"Got him!" Zelenka shouted, his excitement flashing through ear pieces. "He is West of your position, Major," Zelenka paused and then added, "That is to your left, Major."
Behind the wheel of the inflatable, Sheppard scowled his face in disgust, "I know it's to my left."
"Did not," McKay muttered. He squinted his eyes leaning precariously over the boat trying to search through the darkness of night.
Search beams crisscrossed the swollen swells which rolled lazily across the ocean surface. Small ripples peaked just enough to give the ocean a look of texture.
"There he is!" Ford shouted, stretched over the port side of the small vessel pointing frantically. "Doc!" Ford shouted to the floating body that appeared and slowly disappeared with the undulating roll of persistent ocean movement.
Sheppard nursed the boat through the water, his eyes searching the near black surface for an impossibly small shape in a hopelessly large area.
Then he saw the bobbing head and bright white feet. Was Beckett wearing socks? Death cloth to those in the rafting community, because socks apparently had the ability to suck body heat from the wearer and not dry quickly. Socks and water don't mix. Someone should take the time to inform Beckett.
"I see him," Sheppard finally breathed out as he gently throttled the boat forward. One jumper hovered nearby while the second headed back to Atlantis.
Ford was already buckling his life jacket and swinging a leg over the side of the pontoon.
"Okay...slow her down, Major," McKay directed keeping his eye on Beckett who appeared to be floating on his back as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"I'm going over," Ford called and slipped over the side of the boat as they pulled up next to the floating physician.
"Teyla," Sheppard called, "come here and grab the wheel and hold her steady." The major relinquished the controls of the inflatable to the Athosian and headed for the port side.
McKay did his best to keep the light on the two men in the water as the boat rocked.
Sheppard tried to reach down over the pontoon and grab Beckett with the next rising swell but was a few feet too short.
"Damn it." The major continued to lean over the side of the boat unwilling to give up. "He okay, Ford?" Sheppard asked
"Ahh, I think so," The lieutenant answered. He floated up behind Beckett who still lay on his back, arms spread out and hands hidden from view under the water.
"Hey, Doc," Ford said quietly as he slipped a supporting arm under Beckett's shoulders.
The Chief Medical Officer's reaction was both abrupt and violent. With a cry of alarm he flared his arms and apparently tried to stand up.
Ford had not managed to secure his rescue hold and felt the doctor slip from his grip and disappeared under the water with a strangled gasp.
"Shit," Aiden reached desperately for the doctor.
"Well, that went well," Rodney observed dryly from the side of the boat.
"Shut up, McKay," Sheppard ordered not sparing the scientist a look.
Beckett re-emerged only to submerge once again with a strangled yelp. He broke through the water a second time with flailing arms. His hands blindly found Ford's life vest and latched on and nearly succeeded in dunking both of them.
"No Doc," Ford gasped, "it's o…" Both disappeared under the water.
Sheppard was about to bail over the side of the boat but a second splash told him Rodney had beaten him to the punch.
"Son of a bitch, McKay!" Sheppard hollered. "Get a life jacket on!" The major grabbed one from the open space at his knees and swung it out into the melee.
A few yards from the boat, Ford and Beckett popped back to the surface like a mutilated cork. Ford's voice sounded clear over the ocean, "Easy Doc, knock it off. It's just me, Ford. It's Aiden. Come on, Doc, quit fighting me!" The young lieutenant's frustration started to filter through. His military training morphed his voice into sharp commands.
Beckett, naturally, and unknowingly, railed against it.
Sheppard leaned further over the pontoon trying to listen and catch a glimpse of the trio.
The sound of waves lapping against the boat was irritating him. They should be in the damn jumper.
"Major, a little light here would be good," Rodney's sarcastic tone went unregistered.
Sheppard adjusted the light and watched as McKay, with his life jacket under him and his casted arm sticking in the air like a lightening rod, kicked his way to Ford who was 'playing nice' and slowly losing his battle with Beckett.
Sheppard winced when Ford took an unintentional elbow to the cheek. Damn Scotsman could be a handful; Sheppard made a mental note of it.
"Carson," Rodney's unconcerned, conversational air surprised both the major and lieutenant.
Sheppard watched shocked as Beckett slowed his failing and tilted his head as if listening for something.
"Rodney?" The thick accent seeped tension from the water.
"You're drowning Ford," McKay pointed out. The medical doctor suddenly seemed to understand he had his arms wrapped tightly around Aiden's neck and forehead.
"Oh, sorry, lad," Beckett mumbled. He tried to loosen his grip and push away but found he had neither the strength nor the desire to be free floating without some sort of buoyancy under him. Ford and his personal floatation vest were just fine.
"No problem, Doc," Ford rasped out.
Rodney reached the drifting twosome and shifted his life vest over to Beckett in offering. "Come on, Carson, time to get in the boat."
"Aye," Beckett answered tiredly, resting the side of his head on the top of Ford's head once again effectively submerging the younger man. The cool water felt good against Carson's face.
He closed his eyes and sighed, "I'm not feeling so good, Rodney."
"I know, Carson, come on," McKay reached out with his good hand and slid the Scot into the life jacket.
Ford popped back to the surface wide eyed and gasping for breath. "Thanks, McKay."
Satisfied that the Ford and McKay had Beckett somewhat secured, Sheppard pushed away from the side and took the controls from Teyla. He tapped the throttle and slid the boat up next to the trio, killing the engine.
Together, he and Teyla hauled Ford up first. Then, with their combined strength, the three hauled Beckett out, who merely folded onto the rubber floor of the small boat.
"Hey, watch the arm, injured man here you know," McKay pointed out as his three teammates reached over to haul him into the boat.
Beckett lay curled on his side shivering, not caring or unaware of the motion and jostling of the soft bottom floor around him.
"Damn Doc, what the Hell were you doing out here?" Sheppard muttered, snapping out a folded blanket and dropping it over Beckett. It was a kind gesture but would offer little warmth. Sheppard figured it was best to just get back to the pier and the waiting medical team. He stepped over the bodies of his wet crew and grabbed control of the helm again.
"It's cold," Beckett muttered, cinching into a tighter ball with his hands fisted under his chin.
"Well, at least you're not hot anymore," Ford pointed out. He peeled Beckett's socks off and tossed them into the back corner of the boat, "Shouldn't wear socks in the water, Doc. They're death clothing."
"Aye, why are we at the beach?"
Sheppard tossed Beckett a worried look and then turned to Rodney who just frowned.
Teyla reached out and laid a practiced hand on the doctor's head, which he tried to shake off. "I think I have good news." The others all peered at her expectantly, "Dr. Beckett's fever is down."
"Physician heal thyself," McKay muttered, sitting heavily into a stern seat, pulling at the tenacious wet clothing that clung to him like a miserable, uncomfortable second skin. He rested the elbow of his casted arm on a stern cushion and held his cast straight into the air. With the acceleration of the boat, the night air cut through his clothing and skin like a razor edged knife.
McKay closed his eyes letting the wind dry his face.
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TBC