AN: Just a quick thanks for the reviews. I'm glad to see excitement, and hope you enjoy the double posting I'm putting up tonight.

NOT THE DADDY...part 2

By the time he was done emptying his stomach, John felt light-headed and shaky. He was vaguely aware of being almost carried back into the other room and laid out on the bed. He closed his eyes, willing away the still vague feeling of nausea, then blessed coolness was on his face and John opened his eyes. He blinked hard and brought into focus the concerned visage of the chief engineer.

"Colonel Sheppard, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"I've been better," he replied, not bothering to lie. He realized she was wiping his face with a damp cloth and he waved her away with a sickly smile. "Thanks." Shifting slightly, he made to sit up and regretted it when pain stabbed through his temples and his stomach recoiled again.

Dreya looked worried. "You must lie still for now," she beseeched him. "I am sorry you were...injured. But I wish to thank you for catching me."

John caught himself about to nod. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried smiling again. He was pretty sure his attempt failed. "Uh...you're welcome. But what the hell is wrong with me?" John tried sitting up again and winced. "I don't remember hitting my head."

"I heard it thud against the floor," Rodney offered, helpfully.

"Oh." John rubbed the back of his head, wincing as he found a tender spot. Which would explain some of what he was feeling. But this didn't really feel like a concussion, and he would know. He'd suffered a bad one a few years back. "You know...I think maybe we should return to...uh...home."

McKay looked relieved. "I think that's an excellent idea. As does Dr. Weir. Teyla radioed a few minutes ago and Weir wants us back home, if you're feeling up to it."

John didn't feel up to it at all, in fact he felt like shit. But he would feel better back in Atlantis, even if it meant putting up with Beckett and a night's stay in the infirmary. "Yeah...I'm good," John stated firmly, as he made to rise from the bed. He would have fallen had Ronon not caught him by the arm. Vertigo sucked the big one.

"I will carry you if you wish," Ronon offered, a half smile curving his lips. But for all that he was serious.

"Don't even think about it," John shot back. "I can walk." He hoped he was telling the truth, given the fact that his legs felt like jell-o. He locked his knees and tugged free of Ronon's grip.

Rodney moved to hover beside him. "Are you sure you're all right? Because you really don't look it. You look pale and a bit green."

John glared at him, not one of his better glares he was sure, but he gave it all he could. "Shut up, Rodney! I'm fine and we're going home! Got it?"

"Got it." Rodney nodded, looking somewhat like a bobble-head doll and backed away.

"Let's go." John took a step towards the door. "I assume Teyla is at the jumper?"

Ronon nodded. "She is."

John wished she had the gene and the ability to fly the jumper to them. But she didn't and couldn't so he would just have to buck up and walk there. So he gritted his teeth and took another step towards the door, only to find his way blocked by Dreya.

"I think you should stay and rest," she told him.

"I'm fine, really." John reached out and patted her arm, reassuringly. Only to draw back his hand when he felt a tingling in his fingertips. "Um...Will you give Hamas our apologies and inform him that we would like to return? I know that Mckay is itching to work with you on your technology."

Dreya looked like she was going to offer a protest, but then she nodded and offered a shy smile. "Yes...I will tell Hamas. And I will look forward to your return. All of you. My apologies for what happened."

John started to shrug then thought better of it. "No apologies necessary. Accidents happen. I'm fine, really." As he spoke John could almost hear Ronon thinking fragile earthman. For good measure, John shot a glare in Ronon's direction, feeling a ripple of satisfaction when the other man looked discomfited.

"Safe journey then," Dreya stated, including them all in her smile. Then she watched them exit her home.

"How far to the jumper from here?" John asked, as he tried to get his bearings.

Rodney was squinting at his watch. "Half an hour maybe."

John winced. "Let's get going then." He took point and headed out. By the time they reached the Jumper he had stopped twice to puke and he had accepted Ronon's arm around his waist to keep him upright. John was vaguely aware of Teyla running out to greet them and of her gentle touch as he was settled onto the jumper floor and covered with a blanket. He heard Rodney radioing Atlantis and calling for Beckett to meet them. John opened his mouth to protest but before he could make a sound he slid into darkness.

oOo

When John woke up he didn't have to open his eyes to know he was in the infirmary. He heard the soft beep of a heart monitor and felt the pull of an IV needle in the back of his left hand. The heart monitor thing surprised him a bit and he peeled his eyes open to find Elizabeth slumped in a chair next to his bed. "Hey..." John called out softly.

Elizabeth stirred, blinked hard, stared at him a moment then jumped to her feet. "John...you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"You tell me." He wasn't sure how he felt, to be honest. His head still ached and he still felt nauseous, but it wasn't as bad as it had been.

"Well...according to Carson you don't have a concussion," Elizabeth stated. "Which is good news."

John wanted to believe her but she didn't look all that happy. "So what's the bad news?" he prompted.

Elizabeth heaved a sigh and moved closer, one hand moving to pat his arm "You've been in and out of consciousness for the past 2 days. We're not sure why."

"Oh...good." John wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that so he stuck to flippant. He knew it would be expected of him anyway. He shifted against the pillows, wanting to sit up a bit. He was relieved when Elizabeth reached for the bed controls and raised the head of the bed. "Thanks." He coughed a bit and rubbed his throat.

"Here." Elizabeth held out a glass of water.

John accepted it, took a sip to ease his throat and as he handed it back he realized something. He had a catheter. And if that wasn't bad enough, he was wearing a hospital gown instead of scrubs. "Where's Beckett?" John demanded.

As if on cue the Scotsman appeared, a tired smile on his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I need to use the bathroom," he said, pointedly.

"Well...that shouldn't be an issue," Carson shot back, just as pointedly.

John felt himself flush, especially when he glanced over at Elizabeth and realized she knew exactly what they were talking about. "Um...can I talk to Beckett alone, please?" John asked.

Elizabeth bit her lip then nodded. "I'll stop by later." She smiled then headed for the door.

John then focused on Beckett. "I want the catheter out and I want to shower," he blurted out.

"The catheter I can do," Carson allowed, but I think the shower can wait till I'm sure you're up to it."

"I'm up to it," John insisted, then he shifted in the bed and made a face. His bladder was really...really...full. John waved a hand over his lap. "Can we do this like now? Please?"

Carson chuckled then nodded. "I'll be right back." He left but returned in a minute, pulling on latex gloves. "Ready?"

John wasn't but he nodded then closed his eyes. He bit his lip as he felt the blanket pulled down and his gown pulled up and then the tug and uncomfortable sensation of having a tube removed from a place where it didn't belong. John didn't realize he was holding his breath until Beckett urged him to,

"Breathe, laddie, that's it."

"Easy for you to say," John groused, even as he sucked in lungfuls of air. Then he loosened the deathgrip he had on the mattress as Beckett covered him back up. John pushed the blankets down and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Gotta pee," he reminded the doctor.

Carson pulled off his gloves after setting the tubing on the bedside table and he managed to catch Sheppard as his feet hit the floor and his knees buckled. "I've got you," he said, gripping the Colonel around the waist. He then, carefully, removed the IV needle.

John let Beckett sling an arm over his broad shoulders, but he used his other hand to hold the back of the gown closed. The trip to the bathroom felt like it took an hour. But he was finally inside and he took care of his bladder. Then he shucked the gown, Beckett be damned, and stepped into the shower. So what if he had to lean against the wall at first. By the time he had washed up he felt much better. His head still ached and he felt a bit weak, but it was manageable. Grabbing a towel, John dried off then wrapped it around his waist until he could convince Beckett to get him some scrubs.

But the scrub fairy had put in an appearance while John had been washing up, because a set of red scrubs were on the chair by the door. John put them on then stepped out of the bathroom to find Beckett standing there, tapping his foot. "Thanks for the scrubs," John said, putting on an innocent face.

"You're worse than a kid," Carson groused, then he hovered as Sheppard headed back towards his bed.

"I'm fine, okay?" John assured him. "Just hungry." He rubbed his flat stomach. "Really hungry."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Not surprising since you haven't eaten any solid food in two days. Is your stomach up to it?"

John let himself get resettled in the bed, accepting Beckett's fussing with the blankets and taking his pulse and checking his eyes before replying, "My stomach is fine. Just empty."

"All right then, I'll send for some soup and toast." Carson made to leave.

"How about a turkey sandwich?" John countered. He was way too hungry for soup and toast to have any hope of filling him up. "Make that two sandwiches. And maybe some Athosian sweet bread?"

Carson stared at him in disbelief. "I think we'll go with the soup and toast, Colonel. If you can keep it down we'll see about the sandwiches." With that statement of finality, Carson exited the room.

John sighed, watching him go, before curling up on his side and closing his eyes. Suddenly he felt very tired and he figured a catnap would be in order until Beckett returned. With a last pat to his grumbling stomach, John slid into sleep.

THE END...of part 2