FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE: A SOUND BARGAIN

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"Hello, Connam," Sheppard called, riding into the white tent world of the Alpha Site on the transport. Sitting there with his feet propped up on a chair, noshing away on what looked like a muffin and watching Simpson working on his engine, Connam turned in his seat and grinned.

"Colonel!" he shouted, bouncing up onto his feet and waving. "How wonderful to see you! I admit, though I knew you were safe and sound, well..." he looked at the crutch Sheppard was placing on the ground to get himself up off the transport's seat, and the sling protecting the left shoulder, "safe, anyway...I'm still glad to actually see it for myself."

Sheppard smiled, pushing himself off the seat and limping over to Connam on the crutch, then taking the fold up chair that Connam had been resting his feet on. Connam took the cue and sat opposite him. Sheppard turned, looking over at Simpson, who was now leaning deeply into the engine, one of her feet off the ground.

"How's it going?" he asked. "They getting it fixed?"

"Oh, yes. She's a wonder, that woman." Connam leaned forward. "And lovely too," he said more quietly. "Do you know if she's attached to anyone?"

Sheppard ducked his head and smiled, shaking his head. Just at that moment, Doctor Simpson let out a stream of invectives and pulled her head out of the engine, her blond hair sticking up at odd angles and a massive black smudge running from nose to halfway across one cheek.

"I hate this thing!" she yelled. She turned her head to look vaguely towards the tent site. "Carver! I need that pipe! What's taking so long!"

"It's coming!" an annoyed sounding male voice shouted back. "Hold your horses!"

"I'll show you, holding my horses!" she yelled back. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw she had company. Suddenly she turned the whole way, smiling over at Sheppard. "Colonel," she greeted, her tone changing dramatically, "I apologize. I didn't hear you come in. How are you?"

He grinned back, "Fine, Doc. And you?"

"Well, well." She looked distractedly down at the engine she was working on, then back at Sheppard. "And how is," she seemed almost nervous, "Doctor McKay?" Her tone got even softer. She was worried.

Sheppard's shoulders slumped a little, but he nodded, trying to keep up the pretence of confidence. "Beckett says he'll be fine. He's woken up a few times, but hasn't really woken up yet, if you get my meaning."

She nodded; she did. "I hope he gets better," she said, and there was no question that she meant it. She looked back again at the engine, and frowned. Her head tipped towards the tents again, "Carver! Pipe! Now!" she bellowed. A second later a large man with an impressively long, brown beard came chugging out of the tents, hefting a small piece of pipe in a pair of tongs. She smiled sweetly at him, then pointed into the engine. "About time," she chastised. The bearded scientist shook his head and immediately got to work.

Connam sighed happily, "See what I mean?" he said to Sheppard. "Lovely woman."

Sheppard held back a laugh, looking over at Connam again, seeing the lovesick look on the man's face. He had it bad.

Connam saw him looking, and his face transformed back into it's usual ambiguously charming expression. "So," he asked the colonel, "while I appreciate the visit, Colonel, I will say that I was not necessarily expecting to see you again. I thought our transaction was at an end?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yes, well," he shrugged, "I guess...I wanted to, um...," he met Connam's eyes, "I wanted to know what happened, Connam, after I left. As I told the doc, there, McKay hasn't really woken up yet, and so I wanted to see if I could get the story from you."

"Ah," Connam nodded, "Sure." He leaned back in his chair. "Well, I took him back to my shack, as we had agreed. Then, a few hours after I got him there, he woke up, agitated and worried, terribly worried," Connam's eyes squinted a little, "about you and your friends. He wanted to find a way to help you, so," he shrugged, "he quickly came up with the idea of my taking a message through to your people, and, in return, he'd fix my wagon's engine." He gestured vaguely at Simpson again, who was working with a welding tool now, "it was a sound bargain." He looked back at Sheppard, and his head tilted a little. "I will admit," he said, his tone a little apologetic, "that I underestimated your Doctor McKay, Colonel. Based both on what I saw that night, and the impression I've gotten from the people here, he's more than he seems."

Sheppard just nodded, no longer looking at Connam. He seemed focused on flexing his left hand in the sling instead, wanting it to work well again. "Out of curiosity," the colonel asked after a moment, "would you have taken a message through based on the things we gave you the first time we met?"

Connam nodded, "Absolutely. Delivering a message is a simple task—I would almost have been taking advantage of you if we had struck that bargain then. It would have been easier to do so before your rescue of your friends was announced to the valley, see. I had a few moments of worry when I finally reached the Gate, I can tell you." He smiled suddenly, brightly, "but it all worked out."

"Yes," Sheppard said noncommittally, still not looking up. Connam watched him for a moment, then his eyes softened.

"Look, Colonel," the trader said, leaning forward a little on his chair, "Just because you did not think of it then is not your fault. You were concerned about your people at the Citadel. Your attention was focused on getting them out. It is understandable. Plus, you didn't know if you could trust me, then."

"I trusted you with McKay," Sheppard replied, looking towards Simpson, who was now leaning so far into the engine she had both feet off the ground.

"Oh," Connam nodded, "true. Still, you had a great deal you were trying to do by yourself...That's not an easy position to be in."

Sheppard's eyes squinted a little at that, but he still didn't look at the other man, returning once more to looking down at his left hand. He was clearly thinking about how things might have been. Connam pursed his lips, glanced over at Simpson again, then back at the colonel.

"You know," he offered, leaning fully forward on his knees, "Doctor McKay thinks the world of you, Colonel." Sheppard's eyes flashed up to him at that, surprise in them. Connam nodded, "When he first woke up, he was disoriented, but he accepted almost without question that you had gone off to help the others. His only unhappiness was that you hadn't asked him to help. Then he recalled the way he had been acting before you left, and he was obviously ashamed. That's when he seemed to," Connam rolled a hand around, "start thinking. He wanted to make it up to you, to save you and make you proud of him." He smiled, "And so he came up with the idea of a message. And when, a couple of times, he seemed like he was going to give up working on my wagon, it just took the mention of your name to galvanize him into action again." Connam smiled brightly. "And you would have been proud of him, I think."

Sheppard's brow furrowed, not sure what to make of that.

"So," Connam shrugged again, "I guess, I'm wondering...why are you still here?" He tilted his head, "And not back there." Connam leaned back again on his chair, "He called you his best friend, Colonel." The trader's eyes narrowed, "Are you?"

Sheppard stared at him a little longer, then, slowly, the tiniest smile crept across his face.

"Thanks, Connam," he said, reaching for the crutch and pushing himself to his feet again. "For everything."

Connam waved a hand dismissively, then grinned again at Sheppard. "Like I said, Colonel. It was a sound bargain."

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Just one more....