Chapter 5

When Kate staggered back from Sheppard's punch, Carson's own reflexes kicked in. Sheppard had been bleeding into a plate of breakfast, and Kate had gone flailing backwards – from the force of the punch and her own surprise – and wound up falling on her butt, where she stayed.

"Pinch your bloody nose, right bloody now and stay where you are."

Sheppard did as he was told because he'd snapped back to reality, realized what he'd done and was attempting to get himself out of bed to aid Kate. The blood was still flowing and all he was doing was getting blood all over himself and the bed.

Carson rushed over to Kate, bent down to get a better look. She was conscious, appeared to be sitting up okay, no limbs at an angle that indicated a break or sprain but she was holding a hand to her mouth and her expression could only be described as one of complete and utter shock.

"Let me have a look at you."

Kate took her hand away; blood welled between her lips to dribble down her chin. He carefully felt around the jaw, ensuring there were no breaks. He'd seen Sheppard react and he definitely hadn't pulled his punch. He gently palpitated the back of her neck, got no signs of pain.

"Can you turn you head for me? Just a little and very slowly."

Kate did as she was told, moved her head slightly. "It's sore, but not too bad."

Thankfully, Richard entered at that point in time, carrying the supplies.

"Richard, go get me a collar and then once you've done that, make sure you get some ice on the Colonel's nose. I'll be there in a minute."

He didn't bother to look around to see if Richard was actioning his request or not, he just presumed that he was. He kept his attention on Kate, took his penlight out of his pocket.

"Can you open your mouth a wee bit for me?"

Kate did her best to comply. Carson immediately spotted a deep gouge on the inside of her bottom lip, compliments of her upper teeth. One of which was now chipped. It also appeared that another tooth, one of the canines, was off at an angle, forced back towards the palette. Not completely knocked out, but it definitely seemed to indicate a break in the supporting alveolar bone.

Richard in the interim had rushed back to him with a collar and Carson smoothly fastened the collar around her neck.

"Don't worry Kate, that's just a precaution. I'm going to get you off the floor, and out to the main infirmary area."

Her eyes were still wide from the shock of it all, and between Richard and himself, they carefully hauled her to her feet. Richard kept a grip on Kate's arm to ensure she was steady.

"Richard, you need to contact Carl Shaw."

"The dentist?"

"Aye. Let him know that I'd like him to come up and take a look at Kate. I also want you to test her reflexes, and order up an x-ray of her neck, just to be safe. In the interim, she's got an intraoral laceration. I want you to give her lidocaine then irrigate. Don't stitch it. Get Carl to assess the wound when he comes in. "

He turned his attention back to Kate. 'Kate, you've got some damage to your teeth, which Carl should be able to assess. I also want him to check the wound on your lip just to make sure it's okay. You'll be fine, don't worry. The x-ray is just a precaution."

Richard guided her out and what Carson didn't tell Kate was that he suspected the missing portion of her tooth was embedded in her lip. Carl was going to have to pick out the chips and then to be safe, he'd give her antibiotics.

That just left Sheppard. Who was still in bed, ice bag on his nose, and he looked a damn sorry state. Not just from the blood but from the totally appalled expression he was wearing on his face. He had done as he was told and kept quiet while Carson had attended to Kate, for which Carson was grateful.

"Not to worry, Colonel. I'm going to stop that bleeding right now. Okay?"

Sheppard nodded, but didn't speak. Unsurprisingly, he seemed apprehensive.

"We'll figure it out. I know you didn't do that deliberately."

That didn't seem to change the mood in the room any. Sheppard's entire body language was rigid, as if he was holding himself together tightly, just to stop himself from falling apart.

"I hit Kate." He blurted the statement out as if by saying it, it would confirm that reality of his actions.

"I know you did." Carson busied himself by readying the silver nitrate sticks. He got the pledgets ready by soaking them in lidocaine. He wanted the septum to be as anaesthetized as possible before he attempted a chemical cauterization.

"That was wrong." Again, the same dazed statement of fact.

"Aye, but like I said, I know you didn't do that deliberately. Seemed to be a startle reflex." Carson paused, wondered if it was safe to wander in such murky territory. "Did you remember something?"

Sheppard's expression said he didn't know what the hell had caused him react. "I… I thought there was, uh, something there. That shouldn't be." He swiftly changed the subject. "Is she going to be okay?"

Carson had out the forceps again, and got ready to start inserting the pledget and numbing up the area he needed to work on.

"Well, she's not severely injured if that's what you mean. But she's going to need some dental work and I imagine she's going to be very sore for the next few days."

"Oh." He didn't seem to have anything else to say. Carson made him tip his head back slightly and began working the pad into the nostril.

"I don't do shit like that," said Sheppard.

"Stop talking just for now," replied Carson, trying to concentrate. "We can discuss this later, but after we fix up your current problem."

Sheppard went silent again.

They'd barely made it into the forty-eight hour mark since Sheppard's return and considering the track record to date, Carson wondered just what else was going to happen. He glanced down at Sheppard's hands, saw that one knuckle was chaffed and bleeding. Another thing to worry about. Connecting with Kate's teeth meant the high possibility of infection from the bacteria everyone carried around in their mouths and that meant he should probably start Sheppard on a course of antibiotics.

The injuries Sheppard had accrued in his latest adventure to date certainly weren't life threatening. Not yet anyway – at least to Carson's experienced eye - but it was starting to add up and it was infuriating.

((--))

Rodney always visited Kate on Thursday. Thursday at seventeen-thirty to be precise. Usually on the pretense of an early dinner break if he was working. He'd sneak down to her office, and talk.

He'd started looking forward to Thursdays. Not that he should, but he did. Cynically he could view the fact that Kate listened to him intently and didn't tell him to shut up (for the most part) was merely part of her job description. The needier part of him liked to think that Kate and he were friends. Of sorts.

A friend who had just stood him up. She'd sent him an e-mail. It read: Have to cancel today Rodney. I'm indisposed for a few days. I'll reschedule and let you know. Love, Kate.

For at least a minute he felt like he'd been jilted. Then he went into a self righteous and largely unobserved hissy fit because she'd barely given him any notice. It was nearly time to visit and she'd just turned around and cancelled on him. Then he'd progressed to worry because Kate had never cancelled on him in the entire time they'd been on Atlantis and that had included the time an imminent Wraith invasion was due.

He moved into worry. Something was up, something serious and common sense said he shouldn't pry because someone, like Elizabeth, would have asked him to by now. Pry that is. In an official capacity. But no one had. His mind seized on the various possibilities. Sheppard's sanity had snapped like a dry twig in summer. Some unfortunate had tried to off themselves. An invasion was due and nobody had bothered to tell him. Kate had snapped. Kate was in the infirmary. The possibilities were endless.

He hit the directory on the Intranet and looked up the location of her quarters. It wasn't like she could have an unlisted number or anything, anyway. Having found her location, he made some excuse to the underlings hovering around that he needed to talk to Elizabeth about team leader type scenarios and rushed off to find Kate.

((--))

Carson was in conference with Elizabeth again. Seemed that was all he ever did these days. Ensure nothing more untoward had happened with Sheppard – which it hadn't. Ensure Kate was healing – which she was. Read through the rest of Biro's forensic reports – which seemed to indicate Sheppard had been kept on the planet, but maybe not. Any fiber, pollen, or seeds collected had all been traced back to the planet. Except for the epithelials.

Elizabeth continued to be concerned with the possibility of Sheppard giving up information under duress or torture and Kate being off duty didn't help.

"Do you think he did it deliberately?"

Caron had been tapping on his laptop, calling up some notes, when Elizabeth had hesitatingly posed the question. He wondered if she felt it was a slur on Sheppard's character to even suggest the possibility.

"Of course not. I was there. You read my report. It wasn't calculated. For some reason Kate's sudden movement caught him off guard. The punch was pure instinct."

"You think he'd do it again?"

"What? You mean to Kate?"

"No, I mean to anyone." By anyone, Carson surmised she meant anyone that happened to be female and human.

"God Lord, no. Absolutely not. He's been riddled with guilt ever since it happened. Whatever sparked it off was unrelated to gender, or to Kate."

"That's good then."

"Aye. I would say so."

"Did he remember something?"

"It would seem so, although there aren't any details. He can't even articulate it clearly."

"Then that still leaves us with the same problem. The one we had when he got back here. When do you think Kate can start seeing him?"

"I don't know. She's a tough wee lass but at the moment she can barely talk."

Elizabeth nodded. "We need to know what happened. Or at least report back to SGC that we've investigated all we can."

"I'm not disagreeing with you. But it may take some time."

"We may not have any time. The IOA are involved and they're demanding answers."

The way she said the last statement made Carson just the tiniest bit uneasy. Whatever the IOA had planned, he'd prefer not to be involved.

((--))

Rodney knocked on Kate's door and wondered if he shouldn't have tried to comm her before dropping by unexpectedly. He'd never visited her before, and it occurred to him that maybe he was about to commit another large social faux paus. Again.

To his astonishment, the door opened and there stood Kate Heightmeyer. Intact. Being intact was good.

"I just came over to check that you were okay." Sure he did. He didn't add the next selfish part of his sentence – I wanted to know if you were okay enough to make sure I was okay.

She regarded him for a minute, and then stood back from the doorway, inviting him in. "I'm okay but I'm finding it difficult to talk and my neck's a bit stiff. I thought I'd wait until I healed before I started having sessions again."

When she talked she sounded like a bad ventriloquist. Rodney observed that she was trying very hard not to move her lower lip. It was swollen. Concern rode back into town, overriding his arch enemy, selfishness.

"What happened?

"I got into an altercation. Inside of my lip got cut. It's healing."

He was outraged. "Altercation? Who with?"

"That's confidential."

No one could ever say he wasn't good at jumping to conclusions when overly excited. Usually the wrong ones, but it had never stopped him before.

"It was Sheppard wasn't it?"

She didn't say anything but the quirk of her mouth and her hiss of pain seemed to say it all. To Rodney anyway.

"Why'd he do it?"

She shook her head.

"This is ridiculous. The entire safety of Atlantis could be at stake and you're all, 'oh no, it's patient confidentiality time'. Screw that. Just tell me what happened. It might be important because the one thing he's not, is a guy who punches anyone for no good reason. Especially a woman."

Kate would have chewed her bottom lip if it didn't cause her pain. She considered Rodney a moment.

"I have a favor to ask."

"What?"

"I want you to try and talk to John. See if you can't get something out of him."

"Me! Are you crazy? I'm not trained for that."

"He trusts you. He's more likely to open up to you. I've tried sending him e-mails but he won't answer me. He needs someone to be there for him and I'm not going to be ready for at least another week. Carson's been keeping his eye on him for the past few days but… You have to get in there, Rodney."

"Do you remember who exactly you're talking to? Rodney McKay – no social skills. Remember how we talked about that? Remember how I come to your office every week and you help me with that whole talking-too-much-when-I-shouldn't problem?" Rodney began pacing because he didn't like this, not at all and besides, he wasn't entirely sure this was ethical.

"I'm not asking you to play around in his psyche, Rodney. I just want you to listen. Elizabeth is under pressure from certain elements at the IOA. Other tactics may be employed if we can't give a definitive answer."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"They read Biro's report on the epithelials. They're not exactly thrilled with the possibility of yet another super race intent on kicking humanity's butt. We need every bit of intel we can get. We need it now before they send someone in who might not take the gentle approach when it comes to figuring out if he gave anything up."

"Crap."

"Don't panic. I'm talking it over with Elizabeth and the plan is for me to supervise. You're not doing this alone."

"This is nuts."

"Maybe. But we have to try." She winced. Her mouth was obviously beginning to play up. She'd talked enough.

Rodney didn't know what to say. Freaking IOA. Stupid alien abductors. Why was it that the inhabitants of Atlantis could never catch a break?

((--))

Three days ago, Teyla had been summoned urgently to Sheppard's bed side. It was hard to gauge his mood, but it was intensely remorseful and she wondered what had happened. He wouldn't give her details, but he'd said, "I have done something reprehensible and there's no making up for it, but I'm gonna try."

He'd sent her off on a strange mission that she didn't understand in the slightest but she wasn't one to question Sheppard and presumed there was a good reason.

The mission involved a trip to the mainland and it had taken her days of bartering to gather the necessary items. He'd left the matter of taste to her. She'd chosen a small piece of sculpture made from the local clay, a wall hanging, managed to pick up some Athosian candy. The candy bore a resemblance to chocolate but had a grittier feel and tasted more of the berry they were extracted from. She'd left the flowers until last before boarding a jumper and coming back to Atlantis.

She walked back to the infirmary with the items and he'd cheered up at the sight of her and everything she was carrying.

She put the items on the bed table, he looked at them approvingly. "I couldn't find any wrapping paper, but Marcy managed to rustle up a picnic basket for me. We can put them in there."

She glanced down by the bed. Picked up the basket and carefully laid the wall hanging in the bottom. Then placed in the sculpture and the candy as instructed.

He picked up a card lying on the table. It was plain. Pastel colors on the front. Nothing inside. She'd always thought it was peculiar that the humans had this strange custom of giving pieces of cardboard to each other. Considering the high price of paper in her village, it seemed like a complete waste of something so precious.

"You know, I never thought that when they figured we were going to a completely different galaxy, they'd feel it was necessary to include an entire box of cards for every occasion."

He carefully put the card in the envelope and tucked it in the bunch of flowers she'd tied together with string. Put the flowers into the basket, so they stuck out of one end.

"You need to do me a big favor. Sneak these down to Kate Heightmeyer's quarters."

"Sneak? Or deliver?"

"Okay, deliver."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything and it was enough to make him duck his head to stare down at the blanket.

"Shit, you might as well know," he said. "I punched Kate."

"Colonel?" She kept her voice neutral.

"I don't even know what happened. I thought I saw movement, didn't know what it was. Freaked me out completely and I just reacted. Hit her in the mouth."

Teyla's eyes widened. "You did not do it deliberately."

"No! God, no. There are some things I would just never, never do and that's one of them. I don't think I could live with myself if I thought for some fucked up reason I'd done it deliberately."

"Then I am sure Kate will forgive you."

"She's tried. She sent me some e-mails. I didn't know what to say."

"So you made it worse than it all ready was."

He shrugged, picked at the blanket. "Yeah. That's why I asked you to go to the mainland. I'm hoping the basket will repair some of the damage."

"And make you feel less guilty."

"That too."

Teyla could understand the desire to be forgiven. "Of course."

((--))

Ronon was feeling abandoned of late. Teyla had headed to the mainland on an urgent mission for Sheppard, Rodney was holed up in his lab obsessing over the Maker knew what and Sheppard wouldn't see visitors, except for Teyla.

These were the times that were enough to make a man doubt the power of his antiperspirant. One of the better inventions of the human. When he was on the run from the Wraith there were some days he couldn't stand himself.

He decided that since he was bored, and Teyla had run off as soon as Sheppard had called, he was just going to have to talk to Beckett directly.

He found Beckett in his office, hunched over a laptop. He cleared his throat to get the Beckett's attention. Beckett abruptly straightened up, whirled around, taken aback to find the Satedan standing there.

"You half scared me to death!"

"Sorry about that, Doc."

As he was in the habit of doing when he didn't quite know what to do, he folded his arms and leaned against the door frame in a much practiced study of casualness.

"When is Sheppard getting out?"

"Not just yet, but he's healing up nicely. Another two days, and I can take the stitches out of his feet. Then he'll be more mobile."

"There's a rumor going around Atlantis."

"What rumor would that be?"

"That Sheppard and Heightmeyer got into a fight."

Carson seemed to be practicing keeping his face locked into a neutral expression. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"I can't tell you anything, Ronon. That's private information."

"Sure. But if the thing you can't tell me about is true, maybe we should all be paying attention to the fact that if Sheppard pops his cork, we're in trouble."

"So you're telling me… What? That it's a symptom of something else?"

"There's a whole bunch of bad guys out there who can make people do stuff. Even when they think they're not doing it. I wouldn't want to be around when a guy with tactical training decides he needs to blow this place up."

"Any suggestions?"

"Yeah, put a guard on his door."

Ronon had said all he needed to say. He pushed himself away from the door frame, got ready to turn around and leave. He really hoped Sheppard's abductors hadn't messed with him too much because if Sheppard went rogue, Ronon wouldn't hesitate to protect Atlantis, even if that meant taking Sheppard out permanently.

((--))

Richard was peeling the gel off his back again. Marcy unwrapping his feet. The bandages had come off his ankles and wrists, leaving crusty scabs. He was used to the routine. He even managed to drop straight back to sleep after he'd been rolled over. In fact sometimes he didn't bother to wake up. Odd, since being a light sleeper due to the training and his missions was almost second nature. He'd asked Carson about his recently acquired ability to sleep soundly and Carson had told him that it was a natural reaction to stress and injury. He'd just gone with the flow as best he could but he suspected it was more that he didn't want to deal with reality. If he was asleep, he was unaware, and sometimes unawareness was the better option.

He tucked a hand under his face, felt his body cushioned by pillows and the foam used to keep his knees from knocking together or his bony ankles from getting in the way of each other. He was used to all of the indignities of being bed ridden.

Carson was in attendance this morning and the man was bordering on excitement. Apparently it was day nine and Carson was taking out the stitches one day ahead of schedule. His ulcers were starting to show signs of granulation as well. It was always funky getting stitches out, and particularly strange getting them pulled out of the base of his feet. Not that he was ticklish but the base of the foot was sensitive and every time Carson touched his feet with the scissors or the forceps, he had to fight to keep from pulling his feet away.

Carson finished by applying some surgical glue to the cuts to help protect the area and when the process was over, the only thing he wanted to do next was stand up. He was swinging his feet around before anyone had a chance to say much.

"Okay, I'm out of here," he said.

"Maybe, maybe not. It depends how much the ulcers hurt," said Carson.

"Like I'm going to care."

Richard came around, just in case Sheppard fell flat on his face and Sheppard got to his feet, swayed for a minute. But only for a minute. He waved Richard off, and experimentally put a foot forward and took a step.

"Woah. That's weird." He felt the skin stretch a tiny fraction. Nothing painful or even uncomfortable. Just strange. It was strange standing up again. He took a few more steps, got used to the sensation, and the variety of signals coming from the base of his feet. The floor is cold. The floor is smooth. The base of my heels have a dull ache but nothing I can't handle.

A few more steps and he picked up the pace, took a circuit around the room. Stopped back by the bed, grinned broadly. Freedom beckoned. An escape beckoned. He could be active and if he was active he wasn't dwelling on the fact that he'd hurt Kate, or that whatever memories he did have of his two-weeks MIA were little more than an uneasy feeling of impending disaster that he couldn't shake.

"I can get dressed right? And leave."

Carson nodded. "Yes, but I'm afraid you get to bunk down here until those ulcers are completely closed. But apart from that, get some clothes on. Your only problem is going to be pants and shoes. The waistband is going to rub on the ulcer, and so are shoes."

"I'll go bare foot if I have to."

"Are you planning on going without trousers too?"

"You know, for a guy from Scotland, you're pretty funny."

"Scotland's a naturally funny place. That's why we have the Edinburgh Fringe Festival every year." Carson pushed his stool back from the tray and did a well controlled sidle towards Sheppard's position. Sheppard was impressed. All the science and medical guys had the whole wheeled stool and chair control thing down pat. "But seriously, if the waistband of your pants sits around the small of your back, it's going to hurt, and undo all the hard work to date."

"What then?"

Richard chipped in with his own opinion. "Scrubs? It's a draw string. He can tie them around his waist."

Carson nodded. "That could work."

"I was thinking flip flops for the feet," said Richard.

Sheppard listened to the clothing and footwear suggestions and felt his credibility and coolness factor plummeting like a thermometer in the Antarctic.

He didn't care though. Anything to be out. Plenty of things to do that had been on hold for weeks. A visit to Elizabeth, just to catch up, and then he was going to take a jumper for a quick spin around the block and everything would be right with the world. He would feel less like scum. He would feel less like he was going to explode.

He wiggled his toes, like a kid who was at the beach, and didn't even think he minded having to come back to the infirmary at night.

It was good to be back to normal. Or for what counted as normal in the Pegasus galaxy.

((--))

Rodney sat in Elizabeth's office and felt like he had been summoned before the principal. He had in fact, for a nerdy child with a strong social conscience, been in trouble several times. Mainly for the destructive combination of impatience, a brain that worked at the speed of light and a penchant for chemicals that fizzed, foamed or exploded.

Elizabeth had asked him into her office for a meeting with Sheppard, who'd been released on a day pass. He'd been requested to turn up fifteen minutes early, and considering Kate's previous hints about IOA involvement, confirmed by Elizabeth, it wasn't hard to deduce that the meeting was just a way of sharing bad news in an official environment. Maybe she wanted some place that was in ear shot of the marines down in the Gate Room if Sheppard decided to throw a temper tantrum that featured violence. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Sheppard's participation was non negotiable. They could all pretend that when she gave him a direct order, they'd somehow mutually agreed to the outcome in her office, even when Sheppard bristled at an order he thought made zero sense.

He tapped the lid of his laptop, tried not to do that jerking up and down movement he did with his knee when he was desperately nervous. He didn't understand why he was here. Besides, after being told to turn up early, Sheppard was now officially late.

"Are you sure about this? " He asked Elizabeth.

"Rodney, it's going to be okay. I've got Kate on conference."

"Terrific. She can barely talk. Why is she on conference exactly?"

"Because I might want to offer the occasional comment, " Heightmeyer's voice still sounded like she was muttering through clenched teeth. Which she was.

"Well, then, why don't I leave? I'm sure between the two of you, you'll handle this just fine."

"Rodney, remember how we had that whole conversation about you providing some support to your friends?" Trust Kate to bring that up.

"I seem to remember telling you that you were nuts."

Elizabeth interrupted. "I think we need to remember why we're here in the first place. I'm sure John will appreciate the support."

Rodney wasn't convinced. "I'll think he'll just yell at us and maybe throw stuff, but what do I know?"

He went back to tapping the laptop, Elizabeth glanced at her watch and about then Sheppard rolled into the office. He looked like he was headed for the beach. Well, a heavily armed beach. Trying to wear his usual black t-shirt and jacket over a set of scrub pants wasn't working. Trying to somehow get his utility belt wrapped around his waist with the knife sheaf even less. The flip flops took the whole ensemble into the realm of the ridiculous.

Rodney burst out laughing. "Oh my God, it's GI Joe goes to Malibu!"

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "Don't start. Lorne's squad has all ready asked me when I'd like my Fischer Price plastic binoculars delivered."

Elizabeth was trying hard not to laugh herself. Somehow she managed to suppress an outright laugh and turn it into a friendly smile.

"Come on in and grab a seat. We were just about to start."

"We were?" Rodney was always puzzled by these sorts of statements because he knew they'd all been waiting for Sheppard to turn up and Sheppard had been late. Seemed pointless to lie about it.

"Yes, Rodney. We were. Do you want to take the meeting notes or should I?"

"I've got the laptop, so it might as well be me." Great, they traveled to a whole other galaxy and he still got stuck with having to take the minutes. Although why they'd bother to take minutes about this particular meeting he didn't know. Maybe Elizabeth just wanted to keep him occupied enough that he wouldn't spend his time offering useless comments.

"Kate is on conference. You still there, Kate?"

"Yeah."

Rodney noticed that as a bonus, she'd also added a sudden case of nervousness to her muttering. Sheppard seemed taken aback that she was there as well. At least in voice.

"Oh. Hi. Um, hi. Ah, did you get my, um, stuff?"

Rodney remembered what Kate had told him and forced himself to keep his mouth shut, even as he watched Sheppard transform into a nervous fifteen-year-old right in front of his eyes.

"Yes, thank you. Teyla delivered them. The flowers were lovely."

"You know, uh, about that, uh, thing. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Colonel. I'll be fine and it's forgotten."

Rodney heard the slight hitch in her voice and he didn't think anyone else had noticed it but he knew Kate well enough to detect the change. In Rodney's limited world of friendships, she was what counted for an intimate relationship and consequently he knew her better than members of his own family. Although that wasn't saying much since they were, for the most part, estranged. Still, he knew by that slightest little tremor that she wasn't fine, not yet anyway.

Elizabeth was perched against the edge of her desk, trying to look casual. "John, the IOA are sending in a specialist."

Sheppard had managed to get himself seated, and was leaning forward to take the pressure off his back. "You might want to consider adding some more definition to the word. What are we talking about? Weapons specialist? Science type specialist?"

"Interrogation specialist."

Now Rodney knew why Kate was nervous – it wasn't because Sheppard landed a punch to her mouth – it was because of what the IOA had planned.

"Excuse me?" Sheppard looked stunned and then went to suitably outraged. "What do they think I've been doing?"

Elizabeth held up her hands, made a placating gesture. "That's his official specialty – he's been used to obtain information from Goa'uld - but we've been assured he's also been used to help retrieve memories from SGC team members."

"Wow, a guy with multiple talents." Sheppard crossed his arms.

"I don't like this any more than you do, but they're nervous about the delay. They sent through background information in the data burst and he's an expert in his field. Landry isn't exactly thrilled with him but says he's never crossed the line." Elizabeth's voice trailed off.

Sheppard stood up abruptly, and winced. "You're agreeing to this!"

Somewhere in the conversation, Rodney realized he'd stopped typing.

Elizabeth shook her head. "We never agreed to anything. Orders from the IOA via the President. Atlantis and even Earth could have been compromised. After the Ori, and the Wraith, certain factions within both parties have decided that security, above all, is paramount."

Sheppard had balled his hands into fists and seemed to be trying very hard to keep himself under control.

"Fuck that! This is fucked up."

Elizabeth kept her voice calm. Rodney always admired her for that. Her unshakeable calmness while the galaxy went to hell in a hand basket.

"Look, they're not planning to send him through the 'gate for another couple of days. He's currently working in an unnamed location. They're trying to retrieve him. That means we've got forty-eight hours or so to try and figure this out. And that means we're going to have to get creative."

"Yeah? This ought to be good." Sheppard was back to crossing his arms.

"Rodney's agreed to act as Kate's proxy."

Rodney frantically looked from Elizabeth to the enraged Sheppard. Had he? Had he really? Suddenly, he didn't remember agreeing to anything at all.

"He's signed all of the necessary confidentiality agreements and Kate's going to monitor, along with Carson."

Sheppard fixed Rodney with what Rodney had termed, "the Stare of Death". Usually reserved for people Sheppard had really come to hate. Rodney couldn't think of anything to say so he concentrated on recommencing his typing.

He felt the a hand clap onto his shoulder and squeeze. "Did you, Rodney? Did you really agree to this and sign all of the confidentiality agreements?" Sheppard had an astounding grip strength.

Rodney kept typing and tried to think of something to say, but all that ended up coming out of his mouth was an unintelligible, "Eep."

People. Rodney just didn't get them.

((--))