A searing pain across his right bicep caused McKay to gasp, but he ignored that as he watched in horror as the young lieutenant fell. He'd just shot at his own companion! Before he could say anything, though, the boy was miraculously rolling over onto his belly, and staggering to his feet.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!"

McKay dropped the Beretta in his hand with a clatter.

"I'm sorry! You shouldn't have come barging in here unannounced!"

"Fuck you, McKay. Jesus, you could have killed me…"

"Well, I didn't. Are you okay?"

The kid was leaning up against one of the consoles holding his hand against his side.

"It's a little late to be concerned," Ian said, sarcastically, pulling his shirt out of his pants to get a look at his side.

None of the shots fired had hit him directly, but in the space around the door and the console there had been several ricochets, and he'd been hit twice by them – that he could tell. Once in the side, which stung, but didn't hurt anything like it had when he'd been shot, and once in the upper thigh.

"I hit you?" McKay asked, coming over.

"No. You hit the walls, but the ricochets hit me – luckily." Ian noticed the tear on the sleeve of McKay's shirt. "What did you do to your arm?"

The astrophysicist looked down at his bicep, and found that the sleeve was soaked with blood. He looked up, pale.

"I must have shot myself."

"Good."

"Oh, that's mature. I'll probably bleed to death, or get some kind of lead poisoning or-"

"It's not that bad, McKay," Ian told him, still too pissed to be all that concerned about a scratch. "We have first aid kits and can-"

"A first aid kit isn't going to do a whole lot on a bullet wound," Rodney snapped, craning his neck to get a better look at the crease on his bicep. It was bloody and hurt, and he was pretty sure he was going to lose the arm.

Ian rolled his eyes, and reached over, yanking on the sleeve and ripping it out of the way to see the damage the slug had caused.

"Oh, God…"

"Relax, it's not that bad."

"It's bleeding!"

"It's barely a scratch."

"Then why do I feel faint? I'll probably-"

"You're going to be fine," Ian snapped. "Just shut the hell up."

He reached one-handed for the pack that McKay had set on the console near at hand, and opened it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get you a band-aid."

Actually, he'd do better than that, but he was too pissed to be any nicer than that. His side and leg were killing him, and he kept one hand clenched tightly against the wound in his side as he pulled out the first aid kit.

"You're bleeding…" McKay said, finally pulling his attention from his own wound to look at Ian's.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Look, I said I was sorry…" McKay said as Ian opened the kit and took out several bandages and a bottle of alcohol. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah. Shut up."

"Listen, we need to talk about your attitude. I-"

"Shut the hell up, McKay!" Ian snapped. "Hold your arm out."

"You don't have to be so snippy," McKay said, a little huffily, as he held out his arm. "It was an accide - oh my God!"

He jerked his arm away with a curse, but Ian reached out and grabbed his forearm, holding him tight with a bloody hand.

"Hold still…"

"You're torturing me…" Rodney complained, still trying to jerk away. The boy's grip was surprisingly strong.

"Do you want it to get infected?" Ian asked, heartlessly.

"No."

"Then hold still and stop being such a baby."

"That's easy for you to say," McKay snapped. "You're not the one who-"

"Hold that," Ian interrupted, pressing a heavy square of gauze against the still bleeding wound.

Rodney did as he was told, and watched as Ian wrapped his arm with tape, his hand smearing the white bandages with blood. It wasn't pretty, but the pressure helped ease the pain – a little.

"It's not as good at Doctor Fraiser would do," Ian finally said, "but it'll do."

McKay studied his arm.

"It's still bleeding…"

"But not as badly – and it'll stop soon." Ian wasn't concerned. He lifted his shirt up and studied the crease across his side. It ran above his hip, below the area the vest covered, of course, and seemed to be pretty shallow – although it was long and stung.

"That doesn't look good…" McKay said, looking as well.

"It's not that bad." Ian clenched his jaw and poured a third of the bottle of alcohol onto the wound, biting back a curse as what had been a painful wound was now agonizing. "Damn…"

"I told you it hurt…"

"Why don't you do something useful?" Ian asked, gesturing to the consoles. "I found the Gateship bay, now we need to figure out the point of origin…"

"They're all broken," McKay told him. "None of them will work."

"What?"

"I said, they're all-"

"I heard you." Ian reached over and tapped on the closest keyboard, and the screen above it came to life instantly.

"How did you do that?" McKay asked, scowling. "I've been beating my head against-"

"You don't have the Ancient's gene," Ian said, looking at the display for a moment. "Can you read this?"

McKay scowled, and looked at the readout.

"Some of it…"

"Then look for anything to do with the Stargate," Ian said, turning his attention back to the first aid kit, where he pulled out more gauze and tape. "We need a couple of addresses to different sites so we can compare them and figure out the-"

"Point of origin," McKay finished. "I get it." He practically shouldered Ian out of the way in his excitement to get to the machine. A computer like this was a geek's heaven, and Rodney was as big of a geek as they came.

Ian shook his head, and went back to taking care of his injuries. He'd keep an eye on McKay for now – simply to make sure the guy really knew what he was doing – but from the looks of it, he did. Or he was good at pretending, anyways.

OOOOOOOOO

"Have you located their Stargate?"

"No, my Lord. They must have it hidden…"

"Find it!"

"Yes, my Lord."

The Jaffa left the room, and Anubis' cowled head turned toward the display screen on the bridge of his ship. Below them, the blue planet spun lazily, her people waiting for help. He was waiting as well – but needed to make sure they didn't call in too much help at once. Which meant finding the Stargate so it couldn't be utilized.

He'd been planning this too long for things to go wrong – and he was impatient for things to finish. When it was done, after all, he'd be easily the most powerful system lord ever seen – or imagined.