NOTES: We end as we began, with Elizabeth's perspective. Thank you all for letting me know how much you've enjoyed this; every review makes my days happier. Gosh, but I love ffnet! Blazesg2, we were fortunate enough to not lose anything irreplaceable, though the basement carpet is another matter. 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 7

AFTERTASTE

She felt lethargic, as though weighed down by heavy blankets. Floating slowly to the surface of consciousness, she became dimly aware of voices and a sense of space that indicated she was not in her own bed. Somehow, this didn't disturb her. After all, she remembered wanting to be elsewhere, needing to find someone. There had been warmth and strong arms holding her, yet even in her daze, she knew it had not been Simon--he was impossibly far away. This, too, did not startle her. Despite her indistinct and inexplicable recollections, she felt no anxiety of any sort. Indeed, it was as though her whole body was suffused with a sense of well being, as though all were right with the world. She stretched, as she often did upon waking, and gave a contented little grunt.

"Elizabeth?"

Lazily, she opened her eyes to find an anxious Canadian hovering over her. Not wanting him to be anxious, she gave him a smile. "Rodney." He was in one of those zip-up shirts that brought out the blue in his eyes.

Turning his head, his gaze remained on her as he called with an apprehensive lilt, "Carson, she's awake."

Why is he nervous? Somehow she sensed it wasn't just her welfare that was responsible.

"Aye. Be there shortly," came the accented reply from somewhere beyond the privacy curtains. Oddly, it didn't concern her that she was in the infirmary.

Hopping off a stool, Rodney shifted from one foot to the other before asking, "Do you remember what happened?"

Not, "How are you feeling?"

Even as his oversight tempted her curiosity, she focused on his question as he helped her adjust the bed so she wasn't flat on her back, but she was only able to pull up snatches of her immediate past. "I remember Peter saying he had the spices for alu gobi. The rest of your team gave me chocolate in congratulations for my mission to Valoosa. You were mad at me for not taking a gun." She chuckled at this. "But it turned out all right in the end, didn't it?"

Glancing away from her, he muttered, "That's open to debate."

"What happened to your ear?"

In the middle of lifting his hand to his bandaged lobe, he self-consciously stopped himself. "It's nothing. Do you know why you're here, how you got here?"

Considering this for a moment, she confessed, "I remember feeling a bit strange when I got back, like I was tipsy. In the morning, I felt feverish and had a compulsion to see someone." Relief and disappointment warred on her CoS's face. "Why? What happened?"

Blushing, Rodney's gaze dropped to her lips before he looked away. He opened his mouth then closed it, frowning slightly, obviously uncertain what to say. She had never seen him blush before; it was different from when his cheeks were flushed with anger or fear. Some part of her was amused by it, but it begged the question...

Why is he blushing?

The privacy curtain was pulled back, and a smiling Carson stepped to her bedside, a small flashlight in his hand. "How are you feelin', lass?" he asked, shining the light in each eye and noting the results on a chart.

"Exceptionally good, so much so that I'm wondering why I'm in the infirmary."

"That good feelin' is likely the aftereffects of your illness." He slipped a cuff around her arm and took her blood pressure, filling the device with air then releasing it slowly.

"Illness?"

"Aye." The physician lifted her wrist in one hand while looking at his watch on the other. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Wednesday?"

"It's Thursday," corrected Rodney.

This didn't bother her, either, and she smiled to assuage her CoS' worried look. His response was difficult to read, one she hadn't seen before, shy and almost wistful.

"Can you sit up?"

She pulled her attention back to Carson. "I think so."

With a hand on her back, he helped her to sit. This was how she became aware she was in a hospital gown, not that she really cared. After all, didn't it make sense she would be?

Slipping a cold stethoscope onto her bare back, Carson instructed her to, "Breathe deep."

"I'll...just be going." Looking away, Rodney turned. There were a few tapping sounds before he bent down, revealing a wheeled tray with a laptop and a peek of dark boxers above his belt line. While one part of her fixated unabashedly on this personal detail, another part noted that he'd been with her long enough to have used up the battery in his computer.

Carson slipped a thermometer into her ear while Rodney wrapped up the dangling wires of his power converter. Tucking his laptop under one arm, the Canadian made his way to the gap in the curtains.

"Rodney..." This got him to look over his shoulder at her. "Thank you." She wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, but she felt compelled to do so.

His expression softened, and he gave her a rare, sincere smile, the one normally reserved for scientific successes. "Any time."

As he left, a tiny breeze of sadness blew across her contentment. It took the beeping of the thermometer to draw her gaze away from the space Rodney had last occupied. Looking to Carson, she asked, "What's the verdict?"

Jotting her temperature on her chart, he replied, "You seem ta be recoverin' nicely."

"Recovering from what, exactly?" Slowly, she felt herself growing more lucid as she slipped free of the last tendrils of sleep.

"A bacterial infection." He gave her a wary smile. "But it's a bit more complicated than that."

Elizabeth gestured at her surroundings, which is how she became aware of her I.V. "I don't seem to be going anywhere, so why don't you explain it to me?"

He heaved a contemplative sigh. "It seems there's more ta this Union ceremony than just matchin' brides and grooms." Setting his things on the tray, he perched on the stool Rodney had vacated. "Accordin' ta our estimates, their birthin' season starts in about nine months."

"Timing is everything."

"Aye, but the Valoosans definitely have a hand in that timin'."

She raised a curious eyebrow. "What does that have to do with..."

Giving his knees a slap, he offered, "I'll just cut to the chase."

Elizabeth nodded to encourage him to continue.

"There are a number of unusual plant and animal behaviors on Valoosa that are the result of evolvin' on a world with such unusual seasons. The bacteria that infected you can survive at extremes of heat and cold and responds to specific temperatures in specific ways. We believe it ta be part of nature's way of jumpstartin' spring."

"An ale that jumpstarts spring, huh?"

Carson shook his head with a grin. "Actually, it was in the bread, not the ale, however, when combined with the heat of the digestive tract and particular compounds unique ta the ale, the bacteria become more active. It's really quite fascinatin'."

"So they slipped me a Mickey?"

"Aye, in a manner of speakin'. The chemicals given off by the bacteria reduce inhibitions and increase sexual urges."

Sexual urges? Thinking of Rodney's bandaged ear, she asked, "Did I...do anything...untoward?"

There was a wicked twinkle in Carson's eye as he waved the thought away. "Nothin' worth mentionin'."

"Did Rodney...?" She gave her medical gown a meaningful tug.

"He was the perfect gentleman, would not let you do anythin' ta shame yourself." The physician gave his bearded chin a thoughtful rub and seemed to be repressing a smile. "He was awfully worried how this might affect your authority and went out of his way ta keep the whole incident secret. Used a secure channel ta wake me before the cock's crow and carried you here himself while I played scout so no one would see."

So the warmth and strong arms were Rodney's. That would explain why he's so worried about my memory.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder about the specific source of his concern. Was he afraid she might be upset with him about what had happened, because he'd seen her in a compromising state? She'd once stumbling across a respected professor while he was in the midst of an alcoholic binge. It had taken weeks of his being hostile and her being awkward before they had overcome that revelation. Or perhaps Rodney was uncomfortable about having crossed personal boundaries? Despite his occasional revealing monolog, Rodney was a very private man, and this certainly blurred the line between public and private life. Even though she had been subject to his accessing gaze--like nearly every other woman in Atlantis--he had always kept that aspect of himself carefully tucked away, never expressing any overt interest in her. What must it have been like for him to have her suddenly seek him out? She'd had to reject the advances of a superior once, and she'd lost her job as a result. Surely he didn't think she'd do the same, especially given the circumstances? Whether out of respect, discomfort, lack of interest or fear for his job, he had resisted temptation, and she was grateful for it. How many others would have done the same?

"He also made sure your duties were taken care of," continued Carson. "Peter took charge of Control while Rodney kept track of things from his laptop. Dr. Zelenka helped a bit with that. Fortunately, Major Sheppard's team wasn't expected ta go on a mission, so there was no need for anyone ta be aware Rodney spent the day in the infirmary."

All that effort, but to what end? "So, who knows I've been sick?"

The Scotsman gave a resigned snort. "I would think the whole city knows by now, though just we three are aware of the particulars."

"But what about Stackhouse and the rest of his team? And Halling?"

"Only you and Dr. Corrigan ate the bread and drank the ale, so only you two were exposed ta its full potential. Dr. Corrigan was on antibiotics for another ailment, so he didn't come down with any symptoms."

"Aren't I the lucky one?"

Giving her his no-self-pity head tilt, Carson suggested, "Surely it's not so bad. When was the last time you have felt this good, this rested?"

Elizabeth considered it for a moment. "You're right." Then she smirked at the thought, "You'll have to be sure no one learns about the details, or we could be in for some trouble."

"Can you imagine Rodney unable ta speak?"

She couldn't, and the thought of it bothered her on some level.

Carson laughed. "He was right scared at the prospect, I'll tell you that! He'd never risk it for any amount of pleasant side effects, let alone tell anyone else so they could try it and possibly spread it ta him."

"Wait." Holding up her hand, she caused him to stop chuckling. "I couldn't speak?"

"Oh." He looked a bit sheepish. "I forgot ta tell you about that part?"

"Yes, you did."

With a wave, he dismissed it. "Really, that was the least of it."

She was debating about fishing for more details when she remembered. "'There's so much I want to say.' 'Words will just get in the way.'"

"What was that?" There was worry mixed with the curiosity in his eyes.

"Part of a Valoosan love song," she explained with a grin.

He returned her smile. "Has a different meanin', knowin' what we do now."

The greater implications finally dawned on her, leeching away some of her tranquility. "So much for finding a source of fresh produce."

"Now, don't be down about that." Carson reached out and patted her hand. "While we should not risk grains or sugar, and lettuce and the like won't survive the process, Dr. Tamura and I believe we can figure out an easy way of decontaminatin' most thick-skinned fruits and vegetables--squash, apples, potatoes and such. From what I understand, Valoosa wasn't goin' ta solve all our problems, anyway. We'll be gettin' enough from them ta make it worthwhile."

Naturally, the mention of the botanist reminded Elizabeth of another issue. "Poor Dr. Tamura. I hope I can still get her boots back to her in some reasonable condition."

"Not to worry, Rodney took care of it."

"Rodney?" She blinked at the physician in amused disbelief. "He voluntarily cleaned someone else's muddy boots?"

Carson tisked at her. "The man may tolerate organized clutter, but can be right fastidious. Besides, returnin' Dr. Tamura's boots in a timely manner was all a part of the ruse meant ta hide your illness. That, and, since he was already infected, he figured he might as well be the one ta do it."

Maybe he just wanted to make up for being mad at me before I left.

"Well, that's one less thing I have to do. Which leaves me with the question of what's keeping me here."

Hopping off the stool, he moved to her side. "I'll be wantin' ta scan you for the bacteria, see how that's goin', but before that, why don't we just see if you can stand?"

This got him another raised eyebrow. "Did it affect my ability to stand?"

"No, but we had ta keep you heavily sedated until we could start you on the cure."

Deciding she didn't want to worry just yet about why she needed heavy sedation, she took his proffered hand and slid off the bed. Carson held her steady, but his effort was unnecessary. Leaning back, she sat on the edge of the bed and flexed her legs.

"My knees seem a bit grumpy, but other than that..."

Nodding, Carson removed her I.V. and bandaged the spot, then he left her to get dressed. Once she was done with the diagnostic bed, which showed her normal digestive flora taking over, she was given antibiotics, instructions to eat yogurt daily and sent on her way. By eleven, she had showered, changed and was back in her office as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, though she found herself smiling more than usual.

While there had been a few "welcome back"s and "glad you're feeling better"s, no one seemed too concerned about her brief absence. This made her feel both reassured that her people could manage without her and a little put out that it seemed to have been so easy for them. It also underscored Rodney's anxiety. Based on his earlier reactions, he seemed uncomfortable about discussing what had happened. Despite her own curiosity, she didn't want to have to walk on egg shells around him, hoping to rediscover their interpersonal equilibrium again. He was her CoS; they had to work together every day. Plus, she dreaded the prospect of having to rebuild their rapport. If pretending nothing had happened was what he needed to once again be comfortable with her, then she was willing to set aside her desire for the details. Either way, she knew she needed to reassure him, to let him know everything was okay between them.

Elizabeth puzzled over how she might do that while she started up her laptop. Next to it was the note Lieutenant Ford had written and Teyla and the Major had signed. Somehow, Peter had managed to run Control without needing to access her office, and the neatly folded piece of paper was where she'd left it two nights ago. Tucking the note into a pocket, she was reminded of the chocolate bar that had come with it. Opening the decorative box in which she'd stashed it, she found the little green pouch she'd brought back from Valoosa. The muffled sound of dried beans rattling around piqued her interest. Impulsively, she set the chocolate aside and opened the little bag, pouring the contents on her desk: three blue beans and three brown.

Six! She laughed at herself. I'd have to start getting busy to meet that benchmark!

"Something funny?"

Looking up, she smiled at her CoS standing stiffly in the door, a collection of folders in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. He had his normal, confident air about him, but his eyes told a different story.

What did I do that has him so worried? Or maybe it's what he did...?

"Good morning, Rodney." She said it as though she hadn't seen him earlier. "Come in. Have a seat."

As he hesitated, scanning her face, she remembered him leaning over her desk with concern in his eyes. A little part of her heart stirred at the memory. Of all the people in Atlantis, or Earth for that matter, she seemed to be the only one he worried about upsetting.

Does he think I'd demote him?

At last, he entered the room, resting his files and mug on her desk as he sat, like a boundary between them.

"What have you got?"

Glancing around in uncertainty, his gaze finally settled on her. "If you're not ready..."

Offering him a reassuring smile, she gave the chocolate a good snap and took half, passing the rest toward him in its tempting golden wrapper.

"Tell me."

He glanced warily from her face to the chocolate and back before reaching out to draw the offering through the gap between his reports and coffee. "Thank you."

Rodney never says "Thank you."

"You are ill!"

Both were surprised by the interruption, which caused Rodney to turn abruptly in his seat.

"Dr. Zelenka," Elizabeth calmly greeted the bespectacled scientist in her doorway.

"I beg your pardon, Dr. Weir." He gave a gesture to further his apology. "I came to speak to you about Dr. McKay's behavior."

Oddly, the Czech was one of the few leading scientists in Atlantis who hadn't filed a complaint against the CoS; that he wanted to talk about Rodney was slightly disconcerting. Before she could ask what he meant, Rodney beat her to the punch.

"What's wrong with my behavior?" he snapped.

The smaller man folded his arms across his chest. "Normally or recently?" He said it with an expression that made him look as if her were talking to a child.

Knowing it would make Rodney even more irate, Elizabeth spoke before he could. "Gentlemen." They turned to face her as one, their bright blue eyes and attentiveness causing her to smile. "I'd like to thank you both for your efforts yesterday."

"Thank us?" Dr. Zelenka wondered aloud.

Nodding, Elizabeth explained, "With Dr. McKay's involvement in more away missions, there will be times when he won't be here and his duties will need to be handled by others. He was just reporting the positive results of our little experiment."

"Experiment?"

Rodney wisely kept his mouth shut, but his eyes widened in understanding and surprise.

"He wanted to demonstrate that, in the event he was required to remain in the infirmary for any great length of time, he could cover the responsibilities of his position from his laptop with the help of a few key members of the staff."

At this, the Czech raised an eyebrow.

"He says you did an excellent job."

Dr. Zelenka's other eyebrow joined the first before they both lowered into a doubtful frown. "This was all a test?"

"Practice," corrected Rodney in a tone that implied the word had significance as part of a context his colleague should understand but she didn't.

The two men exchanged looks, one suspicious, the other challenging, but they said nothing.

Clearing her throat to get their attention, Elizabeth queried, "Now that's cleared up, was there anything else you needed?"

Raising his hands in defeat, Dr. Zelenka shrugged. "My apologies for disturbing you."

"It's quite all right. Thank you, again, for all your efforts."

Dr. Zelenka blinked under the full force of her brightest smile, smiling shyly in return. With a nod, he turned and left.

"Damn, you're good."

Returning her gaze to Rodney, she gave him an admonishing tilt of her head.

He responded with a slight blush but didn't look away. "You know what I mean. Your being ill after an away mission is understandable, but me..."

"It was the least I could do, especially after everything you did for me yesterday." Some part of her insisted on remembering the warmth and strong arms just then. Glancing down self-consciously, she busied herself with putting the beans back in their bag. "After all, who else can we rely on if not each other?" Looking back up, she saw a myriad of emotions in his eyes. Wanting to settle his apparent internal debate, she added, "We're partners in all this." Leaning back, she raised her arms in a gesture meant to encompass all of Atlantis. "It takes more than research and diplomacy to make it work; sometimes we've got to watch each other's back."

After holding her gaze for a thoughtful moment, he glanced at her throat then his hands. They moved, as though suddenly reminded they'd been unusually still. Lifting his gaze, head and hands as one, he opened his mouth only to be drowned out by a growl from his stomach. Hands falling, his expression settled into one of pained patience.

Chuckling, Elizabeth glanced at her watch. It was nearly noon.

"Why don't we go to the mess hall and talk about those reports over lunch?"

She could practically see him shifting whatever mental baggage he was carrying as the doubt left his eyes and a lopsided grin spread across his face. "I think that's the best idea I've heard all day."

Satisfied that life would finally get back to normal--as normal as life could get in another galaxy--she wrapped her partially-eaten chocolate in a tissue and restashed it in the box with her bag of beans. Reminding Rodney to take her peace offering, she made sure the golden wrapper and its contents left with him, though he was careful not to stick it in a pocket where it might melt. Together, they left her office to face whatever new challenges laid ahead.

FIN