NOTES: At last, the real fun begins. Thank you for the reviews. Sorry for the delay; I had a friend passing through town. Thank you, PurpleYin, for betaing this!
DISCLAIMER: Stargate: Atlantis and all things associated with it belong to other people.
SPOILERS: through Poisoning the Well
RATING: T
UNION
PART 3
PERCOLATION
Upon their return from Valoosa, Elizabeth, Sergeant Stackhouse and his team were greeted by the ever-vigilant Sergeant Bates.
"How'd it go?"
Bates directed his comment to Stackhouse, but the team leader said nothing. Instead, he diplomatically turned to Elizabeth so she might answer. This endeared the younger Sergeant to her even more.
"Everything went according to plan," Elizabeth replied. "We couldn't have asked for a better away mission. As soon as we run this produce past quarantine and Dr. Tamura, we'll be going back for more." Some objective part of her was aware she was nearly gushing and disapproved of it, though she wasn't quite sure why. "Anything happen while I was gone that I should know about?"
"No, ma'am."
"What a spread," murmured Dr. Corrigan appreciatively. "It's a shame we were the only ones who got to go."
"Isn't it?" Elizabeth couldn't repress a sigh. Then she continued brightly, "Still, it's nice that someone was able to enjoy it all, and we'll finally have access to a good supply of fresh fruits and vegetables. That should help moral, don't you think?"
"Of course it will!" Corrigan grinned broadly in agreement.
This gained a raised eyebrow from Sergeant Bates.
Does he ever smile a real smile? she wondered.
"We need to report to Dr. Beckett, ma'am," suggested Stackhouse.
"Yes, yes," she nodded. "Mustn't keep the doctor waiting."
She led the way down the short flight of stairs to the infirmary then stopped and turned. "Oh, Sergeant Bates," she called back, "Please contact Dr. Tamura in the botany lab and fill her in. Let her know she should be getting potential food crops to study and that she has the authority to borrow whomever she needs from the chemistry and medical departments to complete her research as soon as possible. This has top priority."
"Yes, ma'am."
Sure, she could contact Dr. Tamura as easily as Bates would, but she had to do what she could to get the military and academic members to interact. Smiling to herself, she turned back toward the infirmary with Stackhouse's team in tow.
Dr. Carson Beckett and Nurse Anderson were waiting for them in the examination area when they arrived, though the Chief of Medicine's shift had ended hours ago.
"Mission went well?" asked Carson, as Elizabeth and the others deposited their baskets and backpacks in the decontamination room at one end of the room.
"It was great, Carson!" Taking off her jacket, she hopped onto a bed and rolled up a sleeve so Anderson could take her blood pressure. "I really think we've done it this time."
She became oddly over-aware of the nurse's hands as he handled the cuff on her arm and listened to her breathing. As he smiled down at her, she couldn't help but notice that he was so very tall, blond and handsome. A cousin and a college roommate had each married men just like him; both were very happy women.
What is it about Scandinavian men?
She was so preoccupied with wondering which of her friends' husbands the nurse most resembled, she barely noticed when he drew her blood for testing. Once he was done, Anderson moved on to Yamato.
"Your turn to change, Dr. Weir."
"Hmm?" She turned to find Stackhouse holding open the door to the examination area's bathroom. His hair was damp yet still upright. "Oh, yes. Of course."
Slipping off the bed, she smiled her thanks to Stackhouse as she entered the little room, closing the door behind her. Despite the air system's best efforts, the humidity was high from the shower having been used, yet the mirror, like those in every bathroom in Atlantis, showed no condensation. Along with the moisture, there was a definite masculine scent. Male offworld team members outnumbered female five to one, so it was to be expected. But it wasn't an aspect of mission routines she'd consciously considered.
What is it like for Teyla to always be surrounded by men and their things like this?
On shelves along one wall, each team member had a pair of empty medical supply containers, labeled with their names on strips of gauze adhesive tape. One set was for the clothes they'd put aside for their return; the other was for what they wore on the mission. Based on which were empty, Stackhouse and Lumano had already changed into their offduty gear, not that there was much difference for most of the Marines.
As she undressed, she couldn't help but examine what Corrigan and Yamato had waiting in their offduty bins, tilting this way and that to try to get a better look through the clear plastic sides. There was something vaguely voyeuristic about it, this glimpse into their personal effects, but even as she admonished herself for her nosiness, she took note of Corrigan's hand-knitted socks and Yamato's silk undershirt with interest.
Her mental clock reminded her others were waiting, so she took a quick shower and got into her clean clothes, grateful for her one pair of flats. She'd tend to Dr. Tamura's boots tomorrow, after everything had been through decontamination.
Upon exiting the bathroom, she found herself in the midst of a lively conversation.
"If only you could have tasted the ale!" lamented Corrigan as Anderson finished drawing his blood.
"And so many lovely single ladies!" added Corporal Lumano.
About to take his turn in the bathroom, Yamato cleared his throat loudly, which apparently caused his teammates to remember they had a lady in their midst.
Blushing, Lumano sputtered, "Sorry, ma'am."
Elizabeth waved it away. "It's true. No need to be sorry about it. Of course, every last one of them was looking for a husband, so it's not as though you could have taken advantage of it."
This brought a laugh out of Stackhouse, who was on the Ancient diagnostic bed.
"Did you see how Bess moved in when I tried to talk with Dina?" agreed Corrigan. "Only serious offers allowed, it would seem."
"I'll be taking these to Dr. Biro's lab, then?" Anderson had a rack of five blood samples in his hand.
"Aye, lad." Carson nodded to his nurse without looking up from his monitor. "After the extra hours she an' her team pulled yesterday clearing this lot ta go back, I think it can wait until tomorrow."
Moving close so she could peek at the monitor over Carson's shoulder, Elizabeth asked, "You work overtime both days but Dr. Biro doesn't have to?"
"Just one of the perks of being Chief of the medical staff. " Carson offered her a wry grin before turning to his patient. "You're as healthy as when you left, Sergeant. Your turn, Corporal."
As Stackhouse got up, he grabbed a half-full bottle of water then joined them in the monitor bay. Seeing it made Elizabeth realize how thirsty she'd become.
"I don't suppose I could get one of those."
"Ma'am?"
"Recall Dr. Weir may not be as familiar with the examination area as yourself, Sergeant." Carson chided with a lift of his chin toward a cabinet near the bathroom.
Looking over his shoulder, Stackhouse muttered, "Oh," then turned back. "Sorry, ma'am." He promptly turned to fetch her some water.
"I know how you feel about the military, Carson, but really..." she murmured. Then Stackhouse was back with a bottle in his hand. "Thank you, Sergeant. I'll have to remember that for next time."
"All done, Corporal," announced Carson. "Your turn, Dr. Weir, unless you'd prefer the Lieutenant to go first."
She hadn't noticed Yamato had come out of the bathroom.
"I think I'll wait for my turn, if that's all right with you Lieutenant."
Bowing his acknowledgment, Yamato moved to lay down on the diagnostic bed.
From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth caught Lumano yawning. "Tired, Corporal?"
The young man grinned sheepishly. "A meal like that and a hot shower can really take it out of me, ma'am."
"You're finished here. Why don't you go, then?" she suggested. Lumano gave Stackhouse a look, as though seeking some guidance. "Or do you usually leave together?" For some reason it bothered her not knowing this detail. Being aware of such things would give her that much more insight into what it was like for the offworld teams.
After a moment's consideration Lumano replied, "I guess it depends on the mission, how late it is, that sort of thing."
"Well, I'd say it's late enough." She turned a questioning look on his teammate. "Sergeant?"
Stackhouse shrugged, "If it's all right with you, ma'am."
"You all did a fine job, today. No need to babysit your boss longer than you have to."
"You might as well make it three of you," said Carson. "Lieutenant, you're cleared to leave."
"Good evening, gentlemen." Elizabeth smiled as they left.
"Ma'am," chorused Stackhouse and Lumano.
"Good evening, Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett," added Yamato as he left the examination area.
"Gokuro-san," Elizabeth called after them.
Yamato turned with a smile and a bow. "Otsukare-san."
At that moment, Corrigan exited the bathroom and looked around in confusion. "Where'd everyone go?"
"Maybe to make up for your getting to drink on the job." With a smile, Elizabeth gestured to the diagnostic bed. "Your turn, doctor."
It wasn't long before Corrigan was also cleared to leave. Settling herself on the Ancient device, Elizabeth felt the need to mention, "You know, Carson, you could have let the second shift doctor do this."
"Just between you an' me, Rodney wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I didn't see to you personally."
"Really?"
"Aye. He has some peculiar notions, that one." Carson let out an amused huff. "Calls medicine voodoo, yet he has a preferred shaman."
"So he bullied you into this?"
"I was plannin' on doin' it anyway," he admitted. "I knew I'd feel better if I was the one ta see you after your first away mission, and it's not as though I have somethin' better ta do."
"Oh, don't say that."
"It's not but true. Atlantis is a fascinating place, but you have ta admit it's entertainment options are a mite bit lacking." This was followed by a, "Hmm."
"What is it?"
"Your frontal lobe seems ta be a bit overactive. Dr. Corrigan's was, too."
"So is it something I need to worry about?"
"I'm not so sure. Would you say you had a bit more of the ale than Dr. Corrigan?"
"Would that account for it?"
"More than likely. That and your difference in weight." He got up from his seat behind the monitor. "If you feel unwell in any way, be sure ta come back an' let us know."
Beautiful blue eyes, darling dimples, sweet disposition, adorable accent and a medical doctor. Why on Earth is this man single?
"Dr. Weir?"
"Yes, Carson?"
"You may go, now."
"Of course." Pulling her gaze away, she stood and slipped on her flats, wobbling briefly as she straightened the folded over heel of one shoe.
Carson reached out to steady her. "You sure you're feelin' all right?"
"Just a little tired." She smiled sheepishly and patted her stomach. "No doubt due to enjoying myself too much. That and stepping from afternoon into dusk has got my internal clock a bit off, I think."
"Aye, twas the same way for me an' Hoff." Although he smiled, sorrow haunted his eyes.
Elizabeth reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. Some part of her couldn't help but notice how well-formed that arm was, and the surprise caused her to let go sooner than she'd intended. "You did what you thought was right. There was no way you could have known what would happen."
It was Carson's turn to look away. "If you say so."
"They would have eventually reached that stage, with or without our help." It was the logic she used to assuage her own guilt on the matter. If only she hadn't given permission to use their Wraith prisoner for the Hoffan's experiment...
"It's all right. There's nothin' that can be done about it now."
Although none of the reports had mentioned anything explicitly, Elizabeth knew Carson had grown close to the head of the Hoffan research department. At the time, she had felt sorry for his loss and for her authority being partially responsible. Now, she felt an overwhelming wrongness about it. He had found a woman to love, and fate had taken her away. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural.
It wasn't natural?
"Carson..."
"You've had a long day," insisted the Scotsman. "Consider gettin' some rest. Now off with you."
Her desire to console the physician warred with her need to detach herself from her errant thoughts and the people who seemed to be inspiring them.
Nodding, she responded, "Good night, Carson."
"G'night, lass."
Regardless of having used the excuse of being tired to cover her peculiar musings, Elizabeth didn't feel the least bit sleepy. She hoped typing up her report would be just the thing to occupy her wandering mind and help her wind down. Exiting the infirmary for the Gateroom, Elizabeth climbed the stairs to Control to find Peter at the communications console. It was approaching the third shift of the day, and she hadn't been informed of any problems with the comm.
What's he doing here at this time of night?
Peter greeted her with a tight-lipped grin. "I hear we should be expecting fresh produce soon, thanks to you."
"The real thanks should go to Halling and Sergeant Stackhouse's team, but yes, things went well."
"Any chance we'll be getting something similar to cauliflower?" He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I snuck along some spices to make alu gobi."
"Sorry, but we'll only have access to spring vegetables for now, and they still have to pass muster."
"I, well." He stretched back in his chair with a sigh. "I can keep hoping."
She found herself distracted by the contours of his upper arm hidden within the unflattering sleeve of his shirt. Why had she never noticed how fit Peter was? It took effort to resist the urge to reach out and touch him to see if his biceps were really as firm as the fabric hinted.
Peter lifted his arm to look. "Is there something there?"
"No," blinked Elizabeth. "I was just thinking."
He raised an eyebrow and flashed a rare, toothy smile. "I promise, if I ever get the chance to make some, I'll make enough to share."
"I'll hold you to it," she laughed, "but for now, I'd better type up this report while I still remember everything."
She retreated to her office before her attention could be diverted by any more intimate details of the many men she worked with. On her desk, she noticed a small, folded piece of paper weighed down by a precious bar of chocolate. Still too full from the feast to think about food, she stashed the chocolate in a box behind her desk and opened the note. Inside, Lieutenant Ford's tidy print read, "Congratulations on your first away mission!" It was signed by the Lieutenant, the Major and the Athosian symbols she knew to be Teyla's initials. Elizabeth smiled, feeling cheered by her success, her malaise from the infirmary fading away. She found herself looking forward to telling them about it all at their morning meeting. As delightful as Stackhouse's team had been, she'd missed the Lieutenant's cheeky grin and Major Sheppard's dodgy sense of humor.
As she snapped open her laptop, a tangential thought crossed her mind.
Why didn't Rodney sign it? she wondered.
Picking up the note, she looked at it again to be sure. Then she recalled how agitated he'd been about her leaving. She couldn't blame his teammates for avoiding him today. For some reason, remembering the intensity with which Rodney had argued for her to carry a gun stirred something deep within her and caused her palms to sweat. She felt disappointed that her CoS couldn't bring himself to offer even the smallest commendation on her achievement. If he was so concerned for her well-being, why hadn't he checked in on her? Unlike the others, Rodney was usually still awake and working at this hour, yet he hadn't even tried to contact her over the comm.
As if summoned by her thoughts, she spotted Rodney entering Control. He had removed his jacket from earlier in the day and was wearing that tight-fitting zip-up shirt he'd been favoring since the weather had gotten warmer. Even from a distance, she couldn't help but notice the definition of his broad, flat pecs. An insuppressible grin spread across her face.
Perhaps he's coming to congratulate me personally?
The thought nearly caused her to laugh. For him to do so would be like admitting he was wrong, and she couldn't imagine such a confession, no matter how indirect.
The astrophysicist stopped by the console Peter was manning.
That might explain the timely arrival.
Elizabeth watched them talking, Rodney's hands nearly as animated as his face. Some subconscious facet of her brain chose that moment to surface; she idly contemplated what it would feel like to be touched by those capable hands.
What the hell was in that drink!
Peter ended a sentence by tilting his head in her direction, and Rodney turned to look. Instinctively, she dipped her chin so they couldn't tell she was watching them. A blush burned her cheeks. When Peter finished, Rodney nodded then strode purposefully to her office. She looked up as he entered.
"How'd it go?" he asked without preamble, leaning against the frame of her office door. Despite the casual pose, his arms were crossed, a classic defensive position. That he hadn't fully entered suggested reservation and hesitation.
Not wanting him to be defensive, reserved or hesitant, Elizabeth gave him a crooked grin and an amused tone. "The usual. Nod and smile, eat and drink, plant the last field."
With a laugh, Rodney lowered his arms and stepped into her office. "They really had you help with their farming?"
"I'm not looking forward to cleaning Dr. Tamura's boots."
"Sounds like you had a long day." His brow furrowed briefly as he stepped closer to lean on her desk and peer carefully at her face. "You look tired and a bit flushed. Maybe you should call it a day. Is there really anything that can't wait until morning?"
She found she couldn't stop staring.
His eyes are such a magnificent shade of blue!
He returned her unblinking gaze for a moment. Then he glanced over his shoulder and looked back, clearly confused.
"Elizabeth, are you all right?"
"Just tired."
He nodded in acceptance, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a sympathetic smile.
His lower lip...it's so full...
"Would you like me to walk you back to your room?"
YES!
"Thank you for offering," she smiled, "but I still have a few items to attend to."
Uncertainty flitted across his face, but he just said, "Well, good night, then."
"Good night, Rodney."
Elizabeth watched him return to the control room and found herself disgruntled by the mediocre fit of his slacks.
Rodney stopped to talk to Peter, again. Whatever he said to the Brit, he did it with a shake of his head and a shrug of his broad shoulders.
How could Colonel Carter have ever described him as scrawny?
Soon, he left down the hall that lead to the transporter, though whether headed for his lab or his quarters, she couldn't be sure. As soon as her CoS disappeared around the far corner, she lost all interest in her report. Worse, she had to restrain herself from following after him like a toy on a string.
This is ridiculous. I should just go sleep it off.
Shutting down her computer, Elizabeth decided she didn't really want to see anyone else, so she snuck out of her office's other door, working her way to her quarters via the Jumper bay. Even with the surreptitious route, she ran into a number of people preparing for the night shift. Many offered congratulations on the success of her mission, but with the liberal use of yawns, she managed to avoid any conversations. She was swept with a strangely powerful wave of relief and anticipation when she reached her room. Yet as she prepared for bed, she felt a slight chill; the relief was replaced by a sense of longing, as though something vital were missing. Once inside her quiet, empty bedroom, the feeling evolved into an inexplicable apprehension, causing her to toss and turn restlessly in her bed.
When she finally managed to fall asleep, her dreams were unusually sensuous and filled with the theme of searching. She'd had a handful of similar dreams since arriving in Pegasus, ones in which she looked for Simon, but these were different. Instead of alien landscapes, she wandered the familiar halls of Atlantis. Instead of ending up in the embrace of her distant lover, her quests found their conclusions in the arms of her Chief of Science. Most shocking of all was how glad and right and satisfying it seemed.
She found herself awake before the sun. Her sheets were a tangled, sweat-soaked mess, and her muscles ached dully. Although she didn't have a headache, her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, her thoughts lost in a nebulous haze. The arousing echoes of her dreams dominated her mind, making it difficult to get through even the most basic aspects of her morning routine without meandering into a fantasy. By the time she was showered and dressed, there was only one clear thought in her mind--she had to get to Rodney. He'd know what was wrong; he'd help her. If only she could get to Rodney, everything would be all right.