Chapter 11: Sparring, part 1

A/N: Sorry for the delay. RL has been a big black hole lately with school, work and teaching. I promise to have the remaining chapters up this week.

I awoke slowly, the cobwebs of a dream slowly melting. I thought for a moment I was in my bed on a lazy Sunday morning, ready to throw on some clothes and go get coffee and croissants. Then reality came crashing in like the morning surf.

"Morning lass. How are ya feeling?" asked Dr. Beckett when he saw me stirring.

"Ugh. What…," I said, stretching and catching sight of the IV and bandages. "How long have I been asleep? How's Dr. Weir and Major Andrews? Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay," the words tumbled out rapidly as struggled to sort out what had happened in the past week.

"Dr. Weir is fine, a little bruised, but back at work. Colonel Sheppard and Rodney are fine and clamoring loudly to get back to duty. Major Andrews was touch and go for a while, but we stabilized him. He'll be on board the Daedalus when they ship out. He'll be fine, but he faces a long road to recovery, took a couple bullets in key spots. Had us worried for awhile. Likewise you gave us quite a scare. You lost a lot of blood, but what had us worried was your state of mind. Kept crying out for Michael," Beckett's business-like tone softened slightly as he finished his notations. I could read curiosity and concern in his eyes. "We had to sedate you initially, but you finally managed to find sleep on your own. It's been four long days since Major Lorne brought you back. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Food would be good. Coffee would be better," I said, feeling my stomach rumble, ignoring the true purpose of his question. I didn't feel like talking about Michael at the moment, although I was sure a few people had done some digging.

"I'll start you on tea and toast. You haven't had food in your system for some time. Do you think you sit up and swing your legs over the side?"

I nodded, sitting up and letting him help me into the indicated position. For a brief second I rested my head on his shoulder. "This is nice," I thought, smelling his shampoo, then scolded myself for the betrayal. "Really I'm fine," I explained as I saw a needle and a rubber tourniquet. "Just get me some coffee and cold Chinese leftovers and I'll be good to go."

"Why don't we let the one with an MD decide when you're fine? Coffee and cold Chinese? What is that? The breakfast of champions?"

"No, the breakfast of champions is Mountain Dew and Lucky Charms. Fuel for every tired, overworked grad student," I laughed as I saw the doctor's face. Atleast I didn't feel the needle go in. "And haggis is proper food?"

"Now I really have cause to worry. You forget no one has heard from you what really happened that second time in the temple. That's why I also need to run a scan. Rodney's fine, although I think he's a little irritated that he didn't get any new neural pathways out of the adventure," replied the doctor with a small chuckle as he motioned me to lie back down, while he ran the scan. "You, on the other hand, have a whole new set of pathways in the areas of the brain linked to memory, although they're not extensive. I would have theorized they'd be much greater," he frowned slightly at the images.

"The podium in the temple was some sort of data backup for the Ancients. I guess they could simply access and process the data with a touch. The archivist said, I wasn't as complete as the Ancients were, although I could handle some of their data, without neural damage," I tried to explain.

"I'm sure you can explain it more in depth, when you get your bearings. I've got one last check I need to do, if you sit up on the side of the bed. I need to see how your wounds are healing." He checked my wrists first – angry red lines fading into pink and white. "Teyla gave me some balm her people use. Seems to speed healing and prevent scar formation." He bandaged my wrists and looked at me awkwardly. "I need to check the wounds on your neck. Just let me know if it bothers you. I'll stop and give you something to relax, but I need to change the dressing."

I took a deep breath, shut my eyes, nodded…and felt slightly dizzy. I opened my eyes and shot Dr. Beckett a dirty look as I saw him putting a syringe down. "Sorry," he apologized. "Next time." I fought to keep my eyes open as he gently changed the bandages, again leaning against him as helped me lay down. His stubble tickled.

I think I mumbled, "I could get used to a beard," as sleep reclaimed me. I awoke a few hours later a little irritable and very hungry. Food, such as it was appeared. Tea, toast, some broth, and blue jello. I ignored the jello and attacked everything else. Dr. McKay appeared as I was staring at the jello.

"You're awake. Well, um, that's good. Are you going to eat that?" he asked suddenly noticing the jello.

"Help yourself. I have a policy against eating food that comes in colors not found in nature. I mean what other foods, besides blueberries are blue, particularly neon blue?"

"It's not bad," said the physicist between mouthfuls.

'"I just think jello should be made with vodka." I saw a raised eyebrow. "Actually," a flash of brilliance, "Radek's rotgut might make for some good jello shots. Palatable, and easily concealed from certain people. What you think I'm that innocent? We used to sneak stuff into football games." I grinned. "Speaking of sneaking, I need a favor."

"What?" asked Rodney looking at me suspiciously.

"I need to break out of here for a few hours. I've got a little unfinished business."

"No. Carson will make good on a couple of promises involving large needles."

"Don't worry," I tried to reassure an increasingly agitated Dr. McKay. "I just need a few things from my quarters. I can handle breaking out on my own. I guess it would be pointless to sneak back in," I mused. "I need some clothes and a canvas case I have behind the surfboards."

"You think jello is worth Carson's wrath? No way."

"No, jello is not worth it, but I risked my neck, quite literally for you. A little gratitude would be nice."

"I would have figured a way to disable the virus. I'm the one with all the answers."

"You might want to doublecheck that statement with Dr. Beckett. Seems only one of us can access an Ancient database without scrambling a brain. That would make me the one with the answers."

"Whatever." Dr. McKay stomped out of the infirmnary.

"Great." I muttered to myself. "Way to tick the head scientist off." But I was wrong. A pale Dr. McKay walked into the infirmary, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds carrying a pile of clothes and the requested case.

"Thanks. Sorry about what I said earlier."

""Well. You had a point. Just don't mention my name when you get caught slinking down the halls." He looked like he was going to add something, but decided against it.

I looked at the clothes and Dr. McKay. "You want to watch?" I challenged.

Dr. McKay turned bright red and fled. I allowed myself a small grin as I peeled off sensors and shut off corresponding machines. I winced a little as I pulled out the IV, then grabbed the cargo pants and high necked sweater, exchanging them for the scrubs. Bare feet on a cold floor cleared away the last of the cobwebs. I ran out of the infirmary towards the brig, swordcase strapped to my back.