THE NEXT EVENT - by Kolyaaa!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE RECIPE

A/N: Okay, so I was away for one night - ONE NIGHT (after being gone for a week) and the lizard problem has gotten much worse. They're everywhere. I'm not sure which one is Sydney, but believe he's brought plenty of his friends into the bunker. They make me sick, but I rather enjoy their scaly skin when they run across my back.

[{O}]

Sheppard let out a shout as he used every ounce of strength he contained to stay conscious as they rolled. This attacker was much bigger than the nuttalli, and (for the most part) not as soft. It was only the somewhat familiar shout that kept him from trying again to fight with his attacker when it moved again.

"Teyla?" he called, grasping hold of a bare arm in the darkness.

"Get it off!" Teyla pleaded.

"What? Where?"

Light flared as Teyla activated a glowstick, waving it about wildly in an attempt to free herself of the last fluffy-puffies that savagely clung to her face. Little streams of blood trickled down her chin.

Feeling sick at the sight, Sheppard reached, ready to dislodge the beast with the least amount of damage, when the creature let loose on its own. With an unnerving "SHHHHHHH," it jumped away, clinging momentarily to the earthen ceiling of the tunnel. Its eyes were wide and terrified, glowing in the greenish light. It turned, scuttling away through the hole in the ceiling, hissing like water flung on a fire - the sound growing softer as it disappeared up the hole.

And for a moment, the two sat, side-by-side, panting in the glow, waiting for another assault. But all was still.

"Are you all right, colonel?" Teyla asked evenly.

"Yeah. You?"

Still trying to calm her breath, Teyla responded, "I am well." She tenderly touched the side of her face, feeling the bleeding wound. She grimaced, exploring the damage.

"It's not bad," Sheppard tried to assure her, pulling a bandage from his pocket.

Teyla looked grateful for that small offer as she opened the packet and pressed the gauze to her face.

"Boris?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla tilted her head up, looking up to the chimney that sprouted to the surface. She kept the bandage to her cheek as she held out the glow stick with the other. "I believe he… I heard him …" and she was silent for a moment before she was able to complete her thought. "I think that the creatures attacked him."

And they were silent again. Something caught Sheppard's attention and he leaned stiffly to retrieve the dropped Life Sign Detector. It flared to life again as he touched it.

Still holding her face, Teyla's eyes glanced to the screen on the LSD. "There are others," she said, hushed and anxious.

"Yeah," Sheppard responded, regarding the display with an annoyed expression. "Seems that they're down here. We got company."

Teyla, in one quick movement, brought the glowstick back and flung it into the tunnel. It landed even as she pulled a fresh stick from her vest pocket.

Sheppard looked out in disbelief. For a second, creatures were illuminated – squat, creatures with what appeared to be a layer of short brown hair, little more than fuzz against skin. They had big heads, small flaps for ears, wide shovel-like hands, stub legs ending in clawed feet – and their eyes were huge and strangely teardrop shaped, like those horrendous figurines that were sold in knickknack shops.

The creatures grunted unhappily and disappeared from the greenish light – going deeper into the tunnel – into the blackness.

"Colonel," Teyla whispered. "Did you see… creatures?"

With a groan, Sheppard rubbed his forehead and uttered a miserable, "Crap!"

[{O}]

McKay coughed, painfully, and shivered. He felt like he was stuck in a deep, dark hole - one he needed desperately to climb out of. Voices filtered down to him from above, and he tried to focus on them, to get closer to the light they inhabited. One arm reached out, trying to grasp hold of something. The other arm did not move at all – it was as if the limb were already dead at his side. "Got to…" he started to say. He paused to lick his lips and build his strength. "I have to…" he tried again.

"Rodney," Beckett spoke softly to the injured scientist, grasping the hand that moved in vain. "You've got to be quiet now."

McKay sucked in a breath as his fingers wrapped around Beckett's hand with a feeble grip. He said nothing, simply holding on. The world finally opened up around him, and he blinked up at blue sky and the faces of his teammates. He was lying on his back, and incredibly hot. His breathing came in ragged gasps, and he found it hard to keep anything in focus.

"Everyone okay?" he asked softly, glancing languidly to Ronon and Nonor.

"We're fine," Ronon stated emphatically as he stood above them. He hoped that McKay had forgotten what had happened to Jerkin, and hadn't heard the news of Bedevere or the horrible end of Boris. He moved closer, protectively. He didn't look down at his teammate, but rather searched the surrounding area for the horrible creatures of his childhood fantasies. "We're fine," he repeated.

"Good, good," McKay whispered. "Because, me… not so good. In case… in case you didn't…" and his voice trailed off as he sucked in a breath and he attempted to rock to one side. Oh God, it hurt!

"Yes, yes," Beckett responded, digging one-handedly through his pack as he gently pressed McKay back into position with his other. "I can see that, clearly. Just stay still."

"Stay still? You think?" McKay's voice was soft and incredulous. "I was thinkin'… maybe… me and Ronon could go… for a hike or something." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mountain climbing… spelunking perhaps." His voice trailed off as he fought for breath.

"Hush, lad," Beckett ordered softly. "Save your energy."

The physicist blinked at him, obviously not about to obey that order, then a curious look tinged his blue eyes. "What..?" he asked softly. "What do you have all over you, Carson?"

Beckett looked perplexed for a moment, before he glanced at his bloodied uniform. "Alicorn," he stated briefly.

"Oh," was all Rodney could say in return, then smiled weakly. "Good."

Nonor flitted about, looking anxiously into the trees as well, but as Beckett glanced her way, he realized that, unlike her brother, she wasn't searching for targets that needed destroying – rather she was looking for little fantasy friends. Ronon would have a hell of a time if anything attacked them – first to protect, but also to keep Nonor from running off and trying to caress the creatures.

The doctor looked down to Rodney, whose frail grip was fading, and he gasped open mouthed as Beckett released his hand. He pulled back the coat that Ronon had draped over the scientist and started checking the bandage again. The white material was soaking up blood, too much still leaking from the wound.

McKay's face contorted and he sucked in a breath, his body shaking. "God! Oh God…"

"Rodney, you're gonna need to hang on for just a bit, okay?" Beckett said, hoping it didn't sound as much like a plea as he knew it was. "You're gonna be fine." But as he spoke the words, the doctor looked anywhere but into McKay's eyes. "Just fine."

"Carson," McKay got out, wincing as if the very act of breathing was hurting him. "You're a worse liar than I am." His voice faded to nothing as he continued to struggle.

"Nah," Beckett said softly, "No one is quite that bad."

McKay's gaze continued to wander, first to Ronon who gazed at their surroundings. When he glanced to Nonor, the woman gave him a perplexing look and then stepped away, her arms wrapped around herself.

He glanced in the direction where they'd left the jumper. Confusion sparked across his features. "Where's…?" he started as another tremble passed through him. He licked his lips and completed, "…the jumper? What've you done with it?"

"See, we've run into a bit of a snag," Beckett said, trying not to sound alarmed. "Jumper's out of commission for a while."

"Commission…" McKay repeated, slurring the word.

"Aye," Beckett answered, taking Rodney's pulse again as his gaze flitting up to take in the empty space that once held their means of escape. "Just stay quiet a bit and we'll figure it out."

"Figure it out?" McKay's eyes becoming more unfocused. "Give me some of the facts. I'll try to…to…" But his voice failed him and he stared off into nothing. He stiffened as another pain shot through him. Whimpering softly, he let his eyes close.

Beckett remained still as Rodney breathed in hitches and Ronon stood guard over them. Nonor paced. Beckett looked helplessly at their meager supplies.

Carson laid a hand briefly on Rodney's chest, feeling too much heat through the fabric of the torn shirt. The physicist seemed out of it again. "He shouldn't be this bad," Beckett said softly. "I've never seen a fever come so quickly and I can't get the bleeding to stop." He shook his head woefully. "How could this have happened?"

"The alicorn judges those that it confronts," Nonor said, though she sounded slightly less confident than before. "Those that are worthy are given great gifts. Those that are not worthy are tossed aside."

"Tossed aside?" Beckett echoed incredulously.

Nonor nodded earnestly. "As we all saw for our own eyes," she confirmed. "He obviously received the fate owed to him."

"He'd done nothing to deserve this," Beckett snapped, laying a hand softly on Rodney's immobile arm. "What? You think that just because he's not a 'warrior', and he doesn't go off killing things, that he deserves to be killed instead?"

Nonor sniffed delicately. "The alicorn has higher standards than most. It can see right to the heart of a man." She smiled, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself. "The alicorn favors those that are pure of heart and sure of the nobility of their deeds. The uncertain, those that doubt their own actions, are what that the alicorn despises. The alicorn weeds out what is unpleasant and improves the next generation with his blessings."

Beckett felt his face grow hot with these words, and almost jumped to his feet to confront her, but Ronon cut him off.

"Nonor!" the big Satedan growled, the snap in his voice bringing a surprised expression to his sister.

"The alicorn judges a true warrior and lauds him," she insisted. "Its judgment against the self-important and dishonorable is known to be quick and severe."

Rodney shifted, his face tight with pain, and let out an unintelligible murmur. Beckett gave up on any idea of confronting the deluded Nonor, staying crouched over Rodney, trying to comfort his friend.

"It is for the best," Nonor continued, her voice plaintive. "Everyone knows this. Ronon, you sang songs in your youth praising the alicorn's wise deeds. Its pronouncements are beyond reproach."

"Enough!" Ronon snarled.

"I'm only repeating the truth! You know this, dear brother," she simpered. "You were raised on this knowledge. It flows in our blood."

"They were just stories!"

"Stories that hold everything we believe in." Nonor moved around him, trying to meet her brother's eye, but he continued to scan the fluffy-tuft landscape, ever on the alert.

With a pout, Nonor went on. "Remember when you were young and still wearing a little gertergauld? You told me that you wished to someday bow down before the alicorn, to have it place its head on your lap. It was your greatest dream!"

"I was a child."

"When you went away to join the fighters, you said that it was to make yourself worthy." She blinked her adorable large eyes becomingly. "We all knew it was to attain your dream. Do you turn your back on everything that you once believed to be true?"

Ronon spun toward her. "I grew up!" he spat out. "I have learned the value of my friends. That creature is a horrible beast!"

"But it's the alicorn!" she countered, as if that word alone would solve everything. "It knows…"

"It is a vile creature that kills without remorse! It is a thoughtless destroyer"

The declaration stunned Nonor. Hands clutched at her throat as tiny pearl-like tears formed in her eyes. Her mouth drew up into a delicate bow as she pouted. "Oh, Ronnie," she whimpered, ducking her head as if stuck. "Oh, you have no idea how much you've hurt me!" And her shoulders heaved as she sobbed.

Beside them, Rodney let out a slow, staggering breath. His one hand clawed at the dirt as the other lay motionless at his side. His face grew even paler as Beckett removed the now sodden bandage.

"Aw…blast." Beckett pursed his lips as he replaced the dressing again. "This is just useless," he said regretfully. "I don't understand. I just…" He worked quickly, tightening the bandage and getting a little grunt of pain out of Rodney. "I just don't have the supplies. Short of cauterizing the wound, I don't know what else to do to stop the bleeding." And his forehead crinkled with worry at that proposition. Lord, he didn't want to resort to that, but the bleeding wasn't stopping. Rodney would die soon if something wasn't done.

"How much longer until Weir sends someone to check on us?" Ronon asked.

"I don't know!" Beckett snapped. "I'm not in charge!" And then he sighed, regretful. "It'll take them a day, I'd think. We're scheduled to be here for a while. And we don't know what's become of Colonel Sheppard and Teyla. Lord, I hope they're doin' okay."

"Sheppard will be fine," Ronon decided and stiffened his stance as he kept watch.

"We have to do somethin'," Beckett declared, then his gaze lit upon the severed horn that lay in the grass not far from his knee. He snapped it up, and turned his head to fix Ronon and Nonor with a knowing look. "How?" he demanded. "How do we make it?"

Nonor's eyes, still wet from her tears, opened wide in confusion. Ronon's narrowed in understanding. "The Alicorn Salve?" he confirmed.

"What do we do?" Beckett asked. "Can we make it now? With the materials we have?" He gripped the horn as if he might thrust it like a weapon. "Do you know what needs to be done?"

Ronon shook his head regretfully, while beside him, Nonor fluttered. "I know!" she declared joyfully, dancing a little. "I know!"

"Well, out with it, lass!" Beckett demanded.

"First, we need the skin of a fezzmick."

"Fezzmick?" Beckett repeated halfheartedly.

"One of those feathered snake things," Ronon informed. "Shouldn't be too hard to find one. They like to sleep under rocks. Tend to be kinda mean if the stories are right. I hear they can bite right through leather and have enough poison to kill a man in seconds." He shrugged as if this was nothing.

Beckett moved away from a stand of stones near his back.

"And the blood of a nuttalli," Nonor ticked off on her fingers.

"Won't be a problem," Ronon included.

"And I think it needs honey from the hive of the nuffnuff," Nonor added, biting her lip. "Either that or sap from the wandering trees." And she furrowed her brow in pretty contemplation.

"Shouldn't be hard," Ronon decided as he un-holstered his weapon and checked it.

"And once we gather this dog's breakfast," Becket started. "How do we combine the ingredients?" He hefted the horn uncomfortably. "We must break this down somehow."

"The horn must be carefully rendered or all its magical properties will be lost," Nonor stated. She demonstrated by pressing her palms together, making her ample breast appear even more impressive. "The pressure must be constant and severe."

"And you know the recipe?" Beckett asked.

Ronon's sister nodded, tossing her beautiful tawny mane. She slipped into storyteller mode as she sing-songed, "The mortar and pestle must be formed from the blood-marble mined from the Eknar Fissure. Water from the pure fountain of Is primes the mixture. The skin of the fezzmick lines the mortar, and for seven days and seven nights, the wisest and the oldest of the master alchemists labors at the sacred task of refining the horn of the beloved alicorn to a fine particles. Seven drops of nuttalli blood must be added seven times a day over the seven days. No more. No less. He is to be assisted by a virgin, beautiful and fair, dressed in simple linen and barefoot, and she shall wipe his brow, massage his weary limbs, and bring his sweet fruits to eat during his toil. At the end of the prescribed timeframe, the sap – or maybe the honey – is folded in to seal in the magical properties. And finally, when all is complete," she spread her arms wide as she reached the denouement. "It is to be collected into a jar with a nice tight lid and carried close to the heart of a true warrior who further endows the ointment with goodness and light." Nonor's face was flushed and she looked half-ready to faint as she ended her recitation.

"Right," Beckett said undecidedly. "Maybe I can rig up something with what we have in the jumper." He glanced to the hole where the ship had disappeared. "Seven days won't do, but I should be able to speed that up with the right equipment." He felt bleak at the idea of trying to make the salve following Nonor's recipe. It was outrageous. "Might have to do without some of the trappings is all."

Beside him, McKay spoke, his voice little more than a whisper, "What about… the virgin? You're gonna need… one of those." And a smiled played at the edges of his otherwise tight mouth. "Can't help but like… a beautiful virgin."

"You're awake?" Beckett said surprised, looking down at the scientist.

"I heard the bit with the virgin," Rodney muttered, barely audible, the smile still on his face.

Beckett couldn't help but smile back at his friend. "Don't you go thinkin' about somethin' like that right now, Rodney. You need your strength."

As a response, McKay just sighed, looking a little less pained than before – but not much. His eyes closed again.

Beckett felt hopeless as he regarded Rodney, realizing what they were up against. This was ridiculous. He knew that the fairy tale potion was impossible, improbable and imbecilic, but it was the only thing they had at the moment. He looked to Ronon. "Okay then, we just need to find this stuff and get down to the jumper. Nonor can help me with Rodney, and you can go looking for the nuffnuffs and the fezziwigs right? Does anyone have any rope?" And he paused, remembering Red.

Nonor, who'd still held the serene look from her tale, stiffened and stepped away. "I shall not go underground!" she declared hotly. "I shall not!"

"Nonor!" Ronon sharply spoke.

"I'll go with you, Ronon, to collect what is needed," Nonor insisted.

Ronon told her, "The doctor will need assistance."

Nonor's eyes narrowed. "I am NOT a virgin!" she insisted vehemently. She looked between the men, her blue eyes flashing, daring anyone to contest this idea. "I have known MANY men!"

"Nonor," Ronon tried to cut in, not caring.

But she pressed on, "And I shall not perform tasks relegated to the sick and weak, the 'non-warriors'."

"Hey!" Beckett protested, not liking her tone.

"You ran into a tree," Nonor spat, eyeing the livid bruise on the doctor's forehead. "And it wasn't even one of the walking trees!"

Beckett huffed, trying to craft a suitably stinging reply. McKay's eyes opened again, and he frowned up at him in amused bemusement. Beckett caught the look, and shrugged.

"That tree came out of nowhere," Beckett muttered to his friend, who just smiled back at him.

"Enough, Nonor!" Ronon declared, his voice severe. "Someone must stay with them."

"You then," Nonor went on with a smart look. "I would be the best choice to find everything that is needed. The creatures of this planet love me. They will come to me. All I would need to do is sit quietly and to open my mind to the oneness of this place."

Ronon watched his sister, with a sorrowful expression, thinking that that was exactly why it had to be him that sought this stuff out. "I'm not asking, Nonor. You're staying here, and you will protect them."

Wildly, she turned about, as if assaulted from all sides. "How can I protect those who are unworthy? It is against everything I…and I thought you…believe in!"

Ronon nodded sharply. "Stop! You will protect them! Not another word!" he declared. "You will keep watch over them." His tone was unequivocal. "You will let nothing harm them," he stated, jabbing a finger in her direction.

"But…" Nonor started.

"Beckett doesn't have time for foolishness," Ronon told her. "He has to watch over McKay. And YOU will watch over both of them. On your honor, you will protect them."

She looked as if she wanted to counter his commandment, but Nonor only offered him a timid nod.

That seemed to be enough for Ronon and he looked to Beckett. "I will fetch the needed items, and also find us rope. I will be back soon." And with a final nod, he turned and ran into the forest, in the direction of the glade where Red's rope lay unspoiled.

Nonor stood, arms akimbo, looking cross, but staying in place as her brother had requested. "Try not to hurt any of the creatures," she called after him, sounding hopeful.

Beckett just rolled his eyes, and looked down at Rodney. The scientist's head was turned away – unconscious again. Swallowing, Beckett grabbed for his pack again. There had to be something else in here he could use…

All he knew is that he couldn't...and wouldn't...give up.

TBC

A/N: I'm pretty sure that Sydney is the lizard that keeps swimming in the coffee pot. I have painted him with nail polish (Julie's). I've put a giant S him so that should help me figure out who he is. He is the instigator! He brought in all of his horrid friends. And, I think there's still a cobra and a mongoose in here, living in sin in the pie safe. What should I do about them?

A/N: GIVE ME FEEDBACK. Now! NOW or I may disappear again! And only your feedback will bring me back. Think of me as Tinkerbelle and... okay... wait. You can just forget that image.

A/N: I swear to you on the Genii Handbook - the nail polish belongs to JULIE!