Author's Note: Sorry this took so long - what with one thing and another…

If you don't remember the story up to this point, feel free to check the prior chapters. I've finished, so I'm posting the rest today by way of apology. Thanks for your patience.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to Stargate Atlantis, nor am I making any type of profit from this story. It is a work of fan fiction, for enjoyment only.

Just a Case of the Flu

By Kerr Avon

Carson Beckett wondered, not for the first time, where Dr. Weir had found such wonderfully comfortable office chairs. A deep, soft brown material covered a sturdy, rounded frame that seemed to hold you like a mother cradling her infant. Nevermind 'comfortable'; this furniture was comforting. Right now, however, they were insidiously seductive; you wanted to curl up and fall asleep. He'd been infamous during his residency for being able to sleep anywhere; these chairs made it too easy.

He shifted and rubbed bleary eyes with his non-bitten fist, cursing the little rapscallion for the dozenth time that day. He and Dr. Biro had been working for hours checking out serum samples, but it was difficult to manipulate a microscope with a bandaged hand. The pathologist's expression had become dangerous the fourth time he dropped a slide, so he had taken a break to come up and brief Weir as to their progress. Now he found himself succumbing to the padded luxury of his seat after she excused herself to deal momentarily with a crisis in Control.

'Well, shouldn't be too harsh on the lad; after all, the throbbing is keeping me awake,' he chuckled to himself.

Weir strode in at that point, tossing a folder onto her desk. "Sorry about that, Carson. Now, you were saying?" She turned to face him, leaning on her desk with both hands and staring at him intently.

'Where does she get the energy?' Carson thought to himself, then addressed her question. "We've almost finished the patient blood analysis; a couple of samples look like they might be developing antibodies already, but it's too soon to be certain. We've got those individuals identified, and we're observing their clinical progress. If they truly don't become as ill as the rest, or recover quicker, we'll have something to go on." He sighed, unconsciously rubbing his right hand again.

Weir nodded at the injured extremity. "What happened there?"

Beckett glanced at the hand, then blushed and shrugged. "It's nothing. Little bugger bit me during my safety demonstration on the planet we just visited."

Weir smiled, "Well, take care of yourself. Is there anything else you need?"

Carson shifted. "Well, if you don't mind my asking, when will the Major's team get back with the samples from the village? We'll be ready for them soon."

"I'm sure it will be any minute now. I'll send them right down the moment they arrive." She quirked her lip as she ushered him to the door. "After all, how hard can it be to draw blood samples from a few animals?"

----------------------------------------------

"OK, this is harder than it looks," panted McKay as he bent forward, hands braced on his knees, and tried to catch his breath. He was standing in ankle-deep mud, which liberally covered his uniform as well, glaring at a nearby portka.

Major Sheppard's guess as to the types of animals the Athosians were keeping wasn't too far off from reality. "Portkas" were large, swine-like creatures that loved mud and filth just as much as their earth-counterparts, and were just as slippery to catch. A "drote" was indeed quite equine, and resembled a good-natured Clydesdale. "Ruthuns", however, turned out to be more of a goat than a cow, both in size and temperament, while "Wasi" were ducks, not chickens. After obtaining blood samples from the humans still in the settlement, the four team-members drew straws for the animals.

"All right," said Major Sheppard as he picked up four small twigs from the ground and started snapping them to different lengths, "This will go faster if we each take an animal. Shortest stick gets the ducks, next shortest the goats, next the pigs, and the longest has to draw the horses. Anyone got a problem with that?" Rodney opened his mouth, but shut it with a snap as Sheppard shot him a pointed look.

As his team shook their heads, he turned his back and rearranged the twigs so that they all appeared to be the same length. Turning back around, he smiled ferally. "Who's first?"

"I will be, sir," responded Ford promptly. Stepping forward, he quickly chose and stepped back, staring at it uncertainly. "OK…so which one is this?"

Sheppard shrugged. "We'll have to let everyone choose, then we'll compare."

Ford was still confused, but nodded. "Sure. Got it."

"I'm next." McKay stepped forward and drew, then moved next to Ford and sized them up. His was definitely longer than the Lieutenant's. He gulped nervously; he really didn't want to have to deal with the huge horses.

"Teyla?" Sheppard held out the remaining two sticks. The Athosian smiled her patented 'all-knowing' smile, and selected a still shorter stick. Sheppard then opened his hand, revealing the longest of the four.

"OK, that gives Teyla the 'wasi', Ford the goats, McKay the pigs, and me the horses. Let's get to it, and remember to keep your masks and gloves on at all times." With that final bit of advice he grabbed his sample kit and headed off for the corral.

"Need any help?" smirked Sheppard as he sauntered up. It turned out that the drotes had been just as good-natured as they had appeared, and didn't even seem to notice the slight prick of the needle as the pilot worked his way down the line. He had made short work of the sixteen animals, then looked about for his team to see who was most likely to require assistance.

Ford appeared to be holding his own; from a distance it looked as if the Lieutenant's sample container was about half full. The young man's major problem appeared to be preventing the other goats from gnawing on his BDUs while he obtained blood from his selected target. Three fairly sizeable holes in his jacket attested to the persistence of the goats. Nevertheless, the young man seemed to have worked out a method of holding the 'gnawers' back with one hand, drawing his blood sample with the other, and hanging onto the animal being sampled with his knees. Awkward, but effective.

A glance in Teyla's direction revealed a few flying feathers, but a nearly-full sampling rack, so he decided to check on McKay. Striding around the duck-pen with a wave in Teyla's direction, Sheppard got his first good view of the scientist since they had split up. His eyes widened in amazement.

The pen containing the portkas was roughly square and about ten yards in diameter. Six to twelve inches of mud coated the entirety of its floor, as well as liberally covering the snuffling inhabitants. For a moment he failed to see the astrophysicist and opened his mouth to call for him, when a nearby lump he had assumed to be another pig slowly rose and stood on two legs, panting.

'Oh my God, that's Rodney!' Sheppard bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud as he watched the winded scientist lean forward to catch his breath and simultaneously glare at the pig he had clearly failed to catch.

Moving closer to the pen, John cupped a hand and called out. Rodney's head whipped up and around, focussing an even more lethal glare on him.

"Oh, I'm doing just peachy, Major. Thanks for the offer." The sarcasm dripped off the words. The scientist gesticulated wildly around the pen. "Of course I need help! So far I've only managed to corner one of these Darwinian rejects, and I couldn't hang onto him long enough to even nick him!"

John held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "OK, OK, I'll be right in. Just let me set my blood samples down somewhere safe." As McKay plopped to a sitting position in the muck, John was forced to turn his back on him to hide the sniggering. Composing himself, he took a deep breath and turned back to the distraught scientist. McKay sat in the same position staring woefully at the nearby pig, who seemed to be staring back.

"Come on, Rodney. Let's get him." John radiated false enthusiasm as he climbed into the pen and resigned himself to soon being mud-covered himself.

McKay gamely clambered to his feet as the portka watched the activity warily. "What now?" he asked.

"You drive him towards me, and I'll grab him. While I hold him down, you come up and get the sample. Simple!"

Rodney was unconvinced. "Riiiiiiiiiight….." Still, he shrugged and went at it.

'So this is where the phrase 'like catching a greased pig' comes from!' thought the Major the fourth time one of the animals slipped out of his grasp. He consoled himself with the thought that McKay hadn't even been able to catch one, but remembered that strength and agility weren't prerequisites for most astrophysics classes. "Damn!" he exclaimed aloud. He was preparing to add a few other invectives when he heard a suspicious snickering. Whirling, he observed Ford and Teyla leaning on the fence, laughing so hard that they could barely stand up.

"McKay," he called over his shoulder in that dangerously quiet voice that lower ranks dreaded.

"Yeah?" Rodney straightened from where he had been trying futilely once again to corner one of the beasts, and looked back at the Major.

Squinting his eyes dangerously at the pair collapsed in hysterics, John continued, "Why don't we take a break? It seems that Ford and Teyla have graciously volunteered to take over for us."

Wiping the sweat ineffectually from his forehead with a muddy hand, McKay nodded breathlessly and headed for the fenceline. "Sounds fair," he commented as he clambered out of the pen. He nodded tiredly to the relatively clean pair; at this point he was too exhausted to care what they thought. "All yours," he muttered as he passed. He trudged over to a nearby patch of grass and plopped down to watch.

Ford snickered. "Oh, come on sir, it can't be that bad. You just have to…you know, speak their language."

Sheppard glared at the Lieutenant, whose smile disappeared in a nervous gulp. "Oh, really?" He narrowed his eyes. "All right, Doctor Dolittle, have at it." He swept a hand grandly towards the pen.

"Yes, sir." Ford was all business now. As he started toward the animals, Teyla moved to follow.

She was halted by the Major. "Teyla, I think Ford wants to show us how it's done. Why don't you wait here unless he needs you?" He smiled ferally and shot the young officer a raised eyebrow. "After all, 'it can't be that bad'."

Ford's nervousness visibly increased, but he kept it out of his voice as he turned to the Athosian. "Teyla, is there a particular sound you make when you feed the…portkas?"

"Yes. It sounds like…" and she proceeded to make a guttural grunting noise.

Ford listened carefully, then repeated the sound with laudable accuracy. Nodding, he headed towards the pen.

TBC…..