A/N: Those of you who dislike the Beckett-Cadman ship might not like some of the implications of this chapter, but think of it this way... In adventure stories, the hero always has to get the girl in the end. In all my stories, Carson is my hero. Draw whatever conclusions you like from that, but I've made up my mind. :)

Rodney was really, really trying not to get annoyed by Carson's incessant coughing, but it was well into the afternoon now. He was hungry and thirsty, and he'd not been able to get more than a few hours sleep all night. Of course, it might also have had some to do with the fact that the walls seemed to press in on him every time he opened his eyes and the dock workers that came and went while performing repairs on the ship, not to mention the sailors who were guarding the ship, the hold, and drinking themselves into a stupor as well. But it somehow felt easier to deal with if he thought he had someone he could blame for and gripe to about it.

For the millionth time that day, Rodney opened his eyes long enough to shift his legs underneath him, and then immediately regretted it. He knew he was probably suffering from dehydration once more as the room not only pressed in on him but had also begun to spin with vertigo. Carson had said nothing all day and had done nothing but cough. He hadn't even moved from the spot where he'd sat against the wall the night before. This was it, he'd thought to himself. He was going to finally lose it.

"Carson…?" he whispered hoarsely, trying to keep the panic and fear out of his voice. "Carson, are you awake?"

Rodney reached out a tentative hand to feel Carson's neck for a pulse in the darkness, but it was promptly smacked away and followed by a heavy sigh. "I am now."

"Sorry," Rodney apologized weakly, willing his breathing to slow down. "I was kind of afraid you were dead."

Carson coughed again; the congestion in his chest was starting to sound worse. "Obviously, I'm not. In fact, I was resting rather peacefully 'til I was so rudely awakened."

"Well, excuse me for being concerned about whether or not you were even alive!" Rodney protested dramatically, nearly on the verge of panic. "I can't hear or see you breathing, you know. I swear, Carson, if I have to share this foul half-size closet with a dead guy that used to be my friend, I will truly and seriously lose it."

"Try to relax, Rodney," Carson tiredly tried to assure him. "I know you're claustrophobic, but allowin' yerself ta get upset is nae goin' ta help."

Rodney scowled, grunted in protest, and then shifted again, but accidentally hit his knee against a plank sticking out a bit from the wall as he moved. He yelped in pain, and then began to bang his palm against the panel that held them in the small hold. "I can't stand this any more! Let us out of here, damn it!"

Carson prodded Rodney with as much strength as he could muster. "Rodney, what the bloody hell is wrong with ye? You're goin' ta get us in trouble again!"

But the banging had obviously gotten someone's attention, and Rodney stopped beating on the panel once it became obvious that someone was in the process of unlocking it. Sunlight flooded the small compartment, blinding the occupants until one of the sailors reached inside and began to drag Carson outside. Rodney was roughly shoved back inside, and despite his loud and panicked protests, the panel was firmly replaced and relocked.

Carson clenched his eyes shut against the light, trying to give his eyes time to adjust.

"Don't worry, lad!" Jess said to Rodney with drunkenly slurred speech and a grin as the compartment was relocked. "You'll have yer chance at the ladies, too."

As he ignored Rodney's panicked protests and frantic banging against the panel, Jess slipped a friendly arm over Carson's shoulders and chuckled, sending wafts of bad breath that reeked of cheap alcohol and making him wrinkle his nose with disgust. A moment later, though, Carson managed to blink away some of his momentary blindness only to meet a sight that made his eyes go wide.

Jess seemed to sense his surprise, but seemed to interpret it as lust instead of the utter shock that it actually was and clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically. "So it seems ya like the look o' women after all! The Cap'n left us on the ship all to our lonesome selves, so I thought I'd do you lads a favor for all yer help! Tell me plainly… Do ya have an eye for one o' these ladies?"

Carson was struck utterly speechless, so much so, in fact, that his gaze was instantly drawn back to the one woman whose face had surprised him. She was a pretty, athletic woman with strawberry-blonde hair standing next to four other women, and all of them were scantily clad in short skirts and very revealing silky blouses so loose-fitting that he suspected they could be blown away from their owners by a strong gust of wind.

Cackling with amusement, Jess pulled a few coins from his coin purse and motioned for the young woman to come over. Carson blushed from his lips all the way to his ears, turning a deep shade of crimson despite his sunburn and the cuts on his face, but it didn't faze her. One of the woman's hands roved sensually over his chest as she carefully counted the coins with the other.

They were then ushered over to the crew cabin. With Carson's wrists still bound together behind him, he was shoved inside and made to sit on a simple, low-backed chair. A moment later, the sailors to left them to their "business" in private.

With the murmur of cheerful encouragement now safely on the other side of the locked doors of the cabin, Carson sighed and spoke low so only his companion, who had delicately straddled herself across his lap, would hear. "What in the bloody hell are ye doin' here? Ye'll get yerself killed, or worse!"

Lt. Laura Cadman smirked with bemusement, leaning against his shoulder tiredly. "It's nice to see you too, Carson. Didn't I happen to mention while we were dating that I'm a US Marine and professionally trained to defend myself?"

Carson's brows furrowed with confusion and indignation. "Aye, it might've been mentioned in passing. But I would'nae put it past that lot o' brigands out there ta try an' have their way with ye regardless of yer wishes."

"Look, don't worry about me, okay?" Laura insisted with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I've got a nice, sharp knife to defend myself with if any of them tried anything. In fact, I'd be shocked if any of those other women didn't carry one, too. But my point is, I was sent here for one mission and that was to make sure you two were here. We traded a lot of our supplies for the information that led me here, you know."

He never could win arguments with her. "So how do ye plan to get out o' here now that ye've found us?"

"Time is money. I doubt they'll want to keep us around for too long." Laura smiled wanly, but paused for a moment when Carson didn't seem all that reassured. "What's the matter? You don't think they have some kind of ulterior motive for kidnapping you, do you?"

"O' course they do," he assured her grimly. "They're planning on meetin' up with a fleet tae attack some place called Port Legacy, an' they're holdin' us hostage ta get the advanced weapons ta do it."

"What's so special about this 'Port Legacy' place?"

Carson shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well," she sighed, "I suppose it might be enough to get the port-master to help us. He was being uncooperative because he wanted the bounty on Captain Te'Lan for himself."

"Whatever yer goin' ta do, lass, ye need ta do it fast. Repairs on the ship are supposed ta be finished by mornin'."

"Right," Laura said, then leaned close. "But it will still be a little while before they come back for us. You don't think they're watching us, do you?"

Carson's eyes went wide. "Good Lord, I hope not! Ye don't really think they expect us ta... ye know...?"

Laura pondered the thought, smiling shyly. "I would think so."

John Sheppard ran a hand through his disheveled hair and took a moment to stretch out a few kinks in his neck. The sun had just set, leaving hues of violet, red, and blue across the horizon that met with the water. It had been longer than he cared to admit since he'd had a good nights rest, but he was determined not to stop looking for his friends. After all, he knew they'd do the same for him.

The search had not progressed well after they'd gotten their first lead at the brothel. Since negotiating a price for the information they'd been given, they'd even been offered free accommodation for the night if they wished to wait around for Captain Te'Lan to show up, but Henry had insisted that 'cracking a teacup' was not the act of a gentleman, whatever that meant. So their search had continued through the day and night and had led him into the streets of the merchant's quarter. The shop he stood in front of that very moment was the last one on that block, and though he knew it was likely that the merchant inside would give him the same answer as everyone else, he saw no choice but to try it.

Pushing the door firmly open, Ronon, Teyla, Lorne, and Henry followed him inside. The shop belonged to a local sutler, a merchant that traded in ship's supplies and manual labor in the form of dock-workers, and the man behind the counter looked up from his task for only a moment when they entered.

John cleared his throat. "We're looking from some friends of ours and were wondering if you've seen any strangers around, strangers who were waylaid by pirates."

The merchant still did not look up at him, and spoke flatly without a hint of emotion. "Strangers pass through this port every day. Some were waylaid, some not."

"I have pictures," John said hopefully, opening up his pocket to retrieve them.

But the merchant didn't even look. "Sorry, ain't seen 'em."

"Alright," he said, trying not to let his frustration show in his voice. "How about a man named Te'Lan, Captain Te'Lan. Have you seen him?"

"Sorry, but it's gettin' late an' I'm about to close up me shop," came the annoyed reply. "Were ya 'bout ta buy somethin'?"

John shook his head wearily. "Sorry we wasted your time."

Watching attentively as the strangers left his shop and moved on, the merchant hurriedly put on his cloak, locked up his shop, and left. Moving quietly through the darkening alleys, he made sure he wasn't being followed and secretly made his way toward the rows of pubs, which were more often frequented by sailors of varying reputation, that were scattered along the outskirts between the docks and the outlying neighborhoods. One of them in particular was his destination.

Stepping inside, he didn't bother shedding his cloak and made his way toward a secluded table in the back where he found the man he knew would be there. Captain Te'Lan looked up from his game of cards, his pleased expression shifting to curiosity and finally concern.

"Elrak," he said respectfully as he extended his arm in greeting. "I wasn't expectin' ta see ya again 'til tomorrow morning. Not worried about receivin' yer payment on time, are ya?"

"No, sir," the merchant, Elrak, said nervously, then sat down at the table. "But I had some strangers stop by me shop an' they asked if I knew anythin' about ya. Word has it they been askin' about ya all over the port. Didn'a look as if they'd been told anythin', but only the sea witches know fer sure."

"Who were they?" Te'Lan asked just barely loud enough for the merchant to hear. "Soldiers from Gulran or bounty hunters, perhaps?"

"I'm not sure," the merchant answered honestly. "They was wearin' uniforms, but not colors o' Gulran, of that I'm sure."

Captain Te'Lan's eyes narrowed, and then he smiled and shook his head. "I think I remember 'em. If they know anythin', they're persistent fellers, I'll give 'em that. But I'd best make sail quickly, just in case. Are the repairs to my ship done?"

The merchant smiled politely, all business. "Aye, Cap'n. The jury mast is set an' the other repairs ye can finish while yer at sea. A couple o' me lads'll be willin' ta go with ya ta make sure."

The pirate captain drew a very heavy coin purse from his pocket and tossed it to the merchant, who squealed with delight and greed. He didn't even have to bother counting it to know it was more than he'd hoped.

"Let's go, lads," Te'Lan said cheerily to his officers at the table, who had already begun emptying their pockets and coin purses to pay their tabs. "Best be shovin' off before dawn."