Okay, not as much hockey as I had planned, but other things popped up. Sorry.

Thanks to everyone who continues to keep up with this, and a special thank you to Kipling-Nori who did the beta thing for me again.

I would really appreciate feedback on this. Is it good? Okay? Is it gross? Seriously, all comments are all appreciated.

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"To what do I owe the pleasure, Jack?"

General Jack O'Neill looked to General Hank Landry and pointed behind him. "I come bearing gifts."

Landry turned around to find dozens of crates being moved through the hallways of his base by a wide assortment of airmen and machinery.

He walked over and stopped a couple of airmen who had been carrying a large box, then reached over and undid the clasps keeping the cover in place and opened the box. He frowned at the box's contents and picked up one of the odd looking objects and held it out for Jack to see.

"For me, Jack?" said the amused Landry. "You shouldn't have."

Jack walked over to Landry and plucked the round object from Landry's hand and tossed it back into the box. "I didn't," he quipped as he redid the clasps and motioned for the airmen to carry on. "It's for Atlantis. Apparently McKay is setting up some sort of hockey league." At Landry's disbelieving gaze Jack said, "The details are still a bit fuzzy."

"I bet," said an amused Landry. "I thought you didn't like McKay."

"I never said that," replied Jack with a shake of his head. "The point is I like hockey, and Carter doesn't."

Landry raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh no," said Jack with a satisfied smile upon his face. "She doesn't like it at all. Teal'c and I used to talk about it just to drive her nuts." He shrugged his shoulder and admitted, "Okay I used to talk about it to drive her nuts. Teal'c just played along."

Landry laughed for a moment and then said, "Hockey in Pegasus? I'm not sure they're ready for that, Jack."

"It'll catch on," replied Jack as he turned to head for the gate room. "Or my name isn't Jack O'Neill with two l's," he stopped, turned to look at Landry and deadpanned, "which it is."

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"He's been working on this almost non-stop for four days now and I'm getting worried," said Sam quietly.

Indeed it was worry that had her and Sheppard making the trek from her office to what had been affectionately labeled 'The Rink' by those working on it. For some reason the name stuck, despite the fact that other sports besides hockey were going to be played there. She suspected that Rodney's constant presence in the room, the tremendous amount of work he was putting into it and his well known desire to have hockey played there went a long way towards the moniker sticking. After all, one did not cross the head scientist of Atlantis unless one had to, and even then it was understood that there would very well be some sort of horrible retribution awaiting you.

"Come on, Colonel," replied Sheppard, "it's Rodney. You know how…involved…he can get in things."

Sam glanced at Sheppard. "That may be so, but usually when he gets this involved it's a crisis and once the crisis is averted or otherwise dealt with, he takes a break and recharges. From what I've heard there's no end in sight this time." She and Sheppard turned a corner and she asked, "Have you been able to get him to do anything other than work on this?"

Sheppard shrugged and smirked at her. "I've gotten him to eat something a couple of times. Other than that, not really." His face became concerned. "He's not ignoring his other work is he? I mean that would be so un-Rodney like."

Carter shook her head. "No, everything is getting done with its usual promptness and quality. I'm just concerned. I don't want the Wraith or anyone else barreling down on us one day and have Rodney burned out because he's not resting."

Sheppard looked sidewise to his companion. "Is that all it is, Sam?" He faced forward and said, "It almost seems like you might care…"

Sam laughed, though it wasn't a harsh 'that's ridiculous' or 'you're insane' laugh, but a softer laugh. "No, Colonel. Yes, I do care about Rodney…remember I've known him longer than anyone else on the base." She shook her head and smiled. "Despite his arrogance I've grown to trust him and consider him my friend. I'm just worried about him…that's all. Besides," she glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, "I have a feeling that he may be carrying a torch for another blond on base."

Sheppard's head turned towards Sam so fast it almost felt as though it might detach. He was about to ask how she could have known but didn't have the chance.

"You could see hints of it in both of them when we were trapped in the Genii mining facility," she said. Sheppard had turned to her so quickly that she could practically hear the question rattling around in his head. "It seemed so easy for them to banter back and forth with each other, and I could sense the concern they had for one another. I mean I'd expect to see that from Jennifer, but from Rodney…"

"I know what you mean," said Sheppard. "You could always get Keller to get him to calm down a bit."

"I had that very same notion," said Sam with a smile. "I'll talk to her about it after we check on him." She motioned ahead to the Rink at the end of the corridor they were in. "Have you been in there lately?"

"Not for a couple of days," replied Sheppard. "Not since the hockey gear came through the Stargate." He stopped thirty feet from the door to the rink and turned to face Sam, who had also stopped and faced him. With arms crossed in front of his chest Sheppard asked, "How in the hell did he manage to get all that equipment here so fast anyway?"

Sam closed her eyes and sighed, then looked back to Sheppard. "He has…friends…in high places that are fans of hockey." She adopted a feigned dismayed expression. "One in particular, who just happens to be a two-star general."

Sheppard stood in silent contemplation for a second before it dawned on him. "General O'Neill? I didn't think the General liked Rodney."

The right side of Sam's mouth went up in a smirk. "I wouldn't say that Jack doesn't like him." At Sheppard's dubious look Sam added, "Really. The point is though, Jack loves hockey, and when Rodney sent the request I'm sure he jumped all over it." She started walking again and said, "And I strongly suspect that part of the reason he sent the equipment is because he knows I don't particularly like hockey and it would irritate me a little."

John chuckled and said, "That sounds like General…"

His thought was cut off by a blood curdling cry of profound pain emanating from the Rink, followed by anxious voices calling for help. Sheppard spared a single glance to Sam before drawing his ever present sidearm and running towards the room. He threw himself against the left side of the doorframe, then raised his weapon and pointed inside long enough to ensure that there were no threats immediately inside the door. Certain that the immediate area was clear, he stepped halfway around the doorframe with his weapon still raised and his finger on the trigger and scanned the room.

Rodney was in the middle of the room, tablet in his left hand, looking towards the east end of the room. After a quick glance to confirm there were no threats to Rodney from the western section of the room, he leaned in enough to get a good look to the east. Halfway between Rodney and the far wall a group of five or six people was gathered in a rough circle around something on the floor. Other than that, Sheppard could see no one else.

Sam flattened herself against the right side of the doorway and looked inside. "I don't see any…"

"Will you put that thing down before you kill somebody!" cut in Rodney with one of his more emphatic bellows.

Sheppard instinctively turned his weapon in the direction of the thunderous noise, only to find Rodney looking at him with an all too familiar expression on his face: it was the look that Sheppard knew meant Rodney thought he was an idiot.

Sheppard lowered his weapon, though he didn't holster it right away. He looked to Sam who just shrugged her shoulders and motioned inside with her head. He nodded and moved cautiously inside the door. As he did, a medic came running up behind him and Sheppard had to concentrate very hard on not pointing his gun at her out of reflex. He holstered the weapon as the young woman ran past him and towards the group that was still huddled in the room.

It was only when the group parted that Sheppard noticed Ronon standing there, looking down at what Sheppard could now see was one of the new Marines who had recently arrived on Atlantis. The Marine, Harrison if he remembered correctly, was lying there clutching at his right side and writhing in pain.

Careful of where he had done his unintentional forward half somersault days earlier Sheppard walked over to Rodney, who had turned his attention back to the group. It was only when he and Sam got to where Rodney was standing that Sheppard saw something that looked so out of this world that he couldn't even voice the question to Rodney. Instead Sheppard pointed to Ronon and raised his eyebrows in question.

Years of working together and a bond that neither of them would have admitted existed worked its magic and Rodney nodded. He pointed to Ronon, still standing over Harrison holding a hockey stick in hands covered with bulky hockey gloves, the top end of the shaft in his left hand and his right hand near the bottom, and shook his head.

"Chuck has been trying to teach Ronon the intricacies of the body check, specifically, rubbing a player out along the boards," responded Rodney far too casually for the situation. He looked to Sam and then to Sheppard with his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "He doesn't get it yet."

"Rodney," began Sam with restrained frustration, "Jennifer gave you clear instructions on how this was supposed to work. Exactly what part of limited checking do you not understand?"

"I understand it perfectly, thank you very much," replied Rodney with a glare.

"Rodney," said Sam warningly.

"Look, Chuck explained to Ronon in painstaking detail how to properly and safely deliver the check, and then asked for volunteers to take the check." Rodney shrugged. "Having heard how detailed Chuck had been in his instructions to Ronon, Harrison volunteered and then I heard Chuck announce that they were trying a practice run. A few seconds later I heard the thump and Harrison's cry of pain." He jutted his thumb at Sheppard as he added, "And then Rambo here came in pointing a loaded weapon around the room like the Wraith had invaded."

"Well gee, Rodney," said Sheppard in his trademark exasperated drawl, "after all we've been through I think I can be forgiven for thinking the worst when someone yells out like they're being fed on by a Wraith."

Rodney huffed at that. "Anyway, it looks like…"

"McKay," interrupted Ronon's gruff voice. "I have a sparring session." He pushed his stick and gloves into Sheppard's arms and said to Rodney, "I'll be back after lunch."

Rodney, Sam and John watched the big man nonchalantly stroll out the door, and when Sam and John looked to Rodney they were both surprised to see a self-satisfied grin upon his face.

At their inquisitive stares he shrugged and quipped as he looked down to his tablet, "He's my enforcer."

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"It's not like he knew what he was doing, Doctor!" said Rodney loudly. "That's what we were doing, teaching him the right and wrong ways to do it."

Jennifer crossed her arms in front of her chest and matched Rodney's irritated and intense glower with one of her own.

She had arrived on the scene a short time after Sam and John to find Harrison slightly giddy from the morphine her medic had administered. Between the hushed whispers going around the group and her quick examination of Harrison's injuries, it only took a minute to figure out what had happened.

When the gurney took the injured Marine to the Infirmary she walked up to Rodney and, in as harsh a voice as she had ever used with him, ordered him to follow her. Sheppard and Carter followed for reasons that really escaped her as she hadn't even looked at them much less asked them to tag along.

"So you're saying that you let a man hit another man without the proper instruction?" she demanded. "Would you let someone come into your lab and start punching buttons or activating equipment without teaching them what to do?"

"Are you insane?" Rodney replied indignantly. "Do you know how many different ways the city could be destroyed if someone started indiscriminately pushing buttons in my lab?"

"And how is this different?"

Rodney opened his mouth to retort that Harrison being checked into the boards by Ronon had no chance of destroying the city when Jennifer glared at him, pointed her finger at his chest and said warningly, "You know what I mean!"

Rodney sighed, held up his right hand in the space between them and counted off each point with a finger. "First of all, Ronon was told the right way to do it and the wrong way to do it. Second, he was told that it was a practice run. Third, Harrison volunteered and should have known the risks. Four, this isn't my fault!"

Jennifer lowered her arms and put her hands on her hips. "And who was in charge in the room at the time?"

He gulped loudly enough to be heard by Sheppard and Sam, who had taken refuge from errant verbal barbs and possible UFOs near the door to Jennifer's office.

It was answer enough for Jennifer. "And did you personally supervise the instruction of an alien member of the city in the possibly dangerous art of body checking, a man who up to a few days ago had no idea what hockey or checking was?"

Rodney looked away from her demanding brown eyes for a second before saying, "I was busy and Chuck…"

Again, Jennifer heard the unspoken answer to her direct question. "But you were watching and keeping an eye on things as Ronon went in for the check, right?"

"I can't pay attention to every little thing going on around me now can I?" exclaimed Rodney irritably.

From his vantage point by the door, Sheppard leaned over to Sam and said quietly, "Ahhh…their first fight."

He had tried very hard to say it softly enough so that they wouldn't hear, and he thought he had been successful until Rodney and Jennifer rapidly turned to him with identical white hot fire in their eyes.

The anger in their eyes was so blatant that he could practically hear their minds scream at him to shut up. He instinctively stepped back and flattened himself against the wall by the door in case a rapid evac was necessary.

They turned their attention back to each other and went on as though they hadn't been interrupted.

"Yes I do!" said Jennifer, the decibel level of her voice higher than usual. She took a moment to quiet herself down and when she spoke again her voice was calm and collected. "Hockey was your idea, Rodney. And you agreed when I said that there had to be a limit on checking to ensure the safety of the players. Right?"

Rodney, stunned at the sudden change of her tone of voice and tactics, found himself looking to the floor by her feet and nodding.

She took a step closer to him, wanting to make what she was about to ask as personal as she could. "Rodney?" When he finally raised his head and looked into her eyes she said, "I'm counting on you to help me keep these people safe. If that means you have to do a little bit extra then do it. If it means you have to be a little more responsible then do it. Okay?"

"Fine," muttered Rodney, though it held none of the snark that had become associated with him. "I'll do what I can."

Jennifer nodded and gave the scientist a grateful smile. "That's all I can ask."

Rodney stood there for a moment, unsure whether or not that was all to be said.

Sheppard saw what he knew to be Rodney's indecision and decided to bail him out.

"Come on, Rodney. Let's go and get something to eat."

Rodney looked to Sheppard and then back to Jennifer. "Thank you, Doctor," he said softly.

"Thank you, Doctor," replied Jennifer.

Rodney turned and walked towards the door, hesitating only slightly as he walked through the opening.

"The Mess is the other way," said John when he caught up to Rodney.

"I know," replied Rodney. "We pick teams this afternoon and play our first game in a couple of days."

"So?"

"So, I have to figure out how to get Ronon to understand checking so he doesn't kill anyone."

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Sam watched the two men go, and when she was certain they were far enough away she looked to Jennifer and clapped for a few seconds in appreciation. At Jennifer's confused look she said, "That was masterful! I've never seen Rodney shut down like that before."

Jennifer smiled and moved around her desk to sit in her chair. After she sat down and got comfortable she looked up and sighed. "I just got him to understand the severity of the situation."

Sam smiled and walked over to the visitor's chair and sat down. "I think it's more than that, Jennifer. He listens to you…really listens to you." When Jennifer leaned back in her chair Sam added, "Rodney is, well, he's one of a kind." Jennifer gave her a blank look and Sam laughed as she stood up. "Just be patient with him. Most people can't even begin to comprehend just how smart he is, but there are some things, usually the simple things, that escape him." She grinned at her friend. "I hope you know what I mean."

Jennifer looked up and smiled again. "I do."

Sam nodded and walked to the door, but stopped before exiting and turned to face Jennifer. "He may be a pain in the ass, Jen…"

"I know," said Jennifer. When Sam walked out the door she added in a whisper, "But he's worth it."

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Chuck streaked down the left wing with all the speed he could muster, all the while stick handling the bright orange floor hockey puck with all the skill he had managed to hone during his childhood years. It was cliché he knew, but remembering the game really was like riding a bike.

He sensed more than saw or heard his opposition close in on him from his right as he ran over the center line. A quick glance in that direction told him that Zelenka was matching him stride for stride, which truly amazed him. He never would have thought the Czech scientist was so quick and nimble on his feet.

Before he could think about it any further Zelenka pushed into him with his left shoulder, nudging him roughly into the boards.

He never thought Zelenka could be so physically ruthless either. Zelenka had him pinned against the bluish-gray boards though they were still moving forward, and Chuck silently thanked McKay for making seamless boards.

Zelenka's stick knocking against his in an attempt to dislodge the puck brought his focus back to the matter at hand, specifically, moving the puck. Zhukov, one of the Russian military officers, was calling for the puck and with a flick of his wrists the puck went flying to the Russian's stick in a perfect tape to tape pass.

Chuck was still admiring the beautiful pass when he felt a sudden shove in his ribs from Zelenka that pushed the breath from his chest. As he stopped and doubled over to try to draw some precious, life-giving oxygen into his lungs, he looked over to see Zhukov fire a wrist shot at the net which was stopped by the glove hand of the goaltender.

Chuck closed his eyes and lowered his head to look at the floor. "Now I remember why I stopped playing hockey!"

It was then through the haze in his head created by pain and oxygen deprivation that he heard the voice of an angel.

"Are you okay, Chuck?"

All that went through his mind was McKay's stern warning when the team had assembled for their practice. "Remember, if you get hurt, suck it up and at least act tough. If anyone else gets seriously hurt like Harrison, Colonel Carter and Doctor Keller will shut us down and all my hard work will go down the tubes and you know what that means…I WILL NOT be happy!"

Chuck managed to nod in response to Doctor Keller's question. "Fine…thank…you," he managed in between gulps of air. "Wasn't paying attention…that's all."

"Stand up if you can," she said sympathetically, "then put your hands behind your head and try to take deeper breaths."

He did as she advised and a few moments later his breaths came much easier.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," said a remorseful Zelenka, who had come over to check on Chuck when the play was stopped.

"No problem, Doctor," said the gate technician honestly. "It was a good play."

Zelenka nodded his appreciation as Ronon asked, "So what kind of check was that again?"

"Ah, that was a shoulder to shoulder check," said Zelenka proudly. He took Ronon by the arm and guided him away from Keller and Chuck saying in a hushed voice, "If you shove a player against the boards and push your elbow out just so at the right moment…"

Chuck and Jennifer looked at each other and shook their heads in mutual amusement.

"How's the breathing coming?"

"Better," replied Chuck instantly. The rapidity of his response, while in fact accurate, was mostly brought on by the warning McKay had given him earlier.

"What's the trouble?" asked Sheppard. Chuck and Jennifer turned to see the Colonel, along with Colonel Carter and Teyla, walking towards them on the opposite side of the boards.

"Just had the wind knocked out of me, sir," replied Chuck. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Seeing the worried look in Carter's eyes he smiled and added, "No damage done, ma'am. Excuse me."

He jogged away from the small gathering as fast as he could without actually looking like he was trying to get the hell away from there.

"Is he all right, Jennifer?" asked Sam.

Jennifer turned to Sam and nodded. "He's fine."

"Are you playing…hockey…Doctor?" asked Teyla with her usual curiosity.

Jennifer shook her head and glanced to the group of players assembling at the center dot. "Rodney asked me to supervise this practice to make sure they understood my rules. So far, so good, with the exception of Chuck of course." She grinned and motioned towards Ronon with her head. "Even Ronon has been good. Rodney has taught him well it seems."

Sheppard looked around the room and frowned when he couldn't see Rodney anywhere. "Where is Rodney by the way?"

"I'm right here," came a muffled response.

All hands turned in the direction of the voice. Teyla merely smiled and raised her eyebrows in amusement, and Sam put her hand up to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her humungous smile and stifle the laughter threatening to spill past her lips.

Sheppard on the other hand, did nothing of the sort.

He pointed at Rodney and laughed.

And laughed some more.

And laughed a little more.

Rodney remained still as he waited for his ex-friend to get it out of his system.

When Sheppard managed to limit his intense delight to sporadic chuckles he said, "There are way too many things I can say about this to pick just one."

Holding his goalie stick in his blocker hand, Rodney raised his left hand up and nipped his trapper between his body and right arm, then pulled his hand free from the glove. His hand then went up and lifted the goalie mask from his face so that Sheppard could see him roll his eyes. "As usual, Colonel, your humor is so juvenile that it has managed to elude me." Rodney balanced the mask on the butt end of his stick and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Just remember I know where you sleep." He narrowed his eyes for a second before adding, "Most of the time, that is."

Sheppard cleared his throat, painfully aware of the curious looks he was getting from everyone and motioned to Rodney with his right hand. "Figures you'd pick the position that would have you moving as little as possible."

Rodney shivered and his eyes opened wide for a second before narrowing to their normal diameter. "You sound disturbingly like the school guidance counselor who forced me into hockey in the first place."

Rodney immediately realized that his mouth had said something his brain hadn't vetted for possible embarrassment potential, and the bemused look on everyone's faces told him that the only course of action available to him was to explain. "She was worried that my BMI was a little off…"

"You were overweight," clarified Sheppard.

Rodney continued on as though Sheppard hadn't said anything. "So she asked if there were any physical activities that I liked."

"And Chess didn't count then either did it?"

"When I told her that there weren't really any sports I liked she picked hockey for me," continued Rodney, still adhering to his 'ignore it and it'll go away' plan.

"And you picked goalie?" Sheppard asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Sheppard, and like you she didn't truly appreciate the physical prowess and mental acuity needed to defend the goal." Rodney sighed as he recalled days long gone by. "It was quite a challenge, anticipating what players were going to do, taking into account your players' positions on the ice, the conditions of the ice and an empirical study of your opponent's habits." He cleared his throat when he realized he'd gone nostalgic on everyone. "In other words, there's more to it than just standing there and letting the puck hit you." He held out his stick to Jennifer. "Could you hold this please?"

Ignorant of the knowing looks that Sheppard, Carter and Teyla gave each other at his abnormally polite request, Rodney dropped his glove on the floor and knelt down next to it and began undoing the straps holding his pads to his legs. "It didn't take long for my weight to go down, and eventually my studies took precedence over hockey. Besides, the tremendous amount of sweat and the equipment did nothing to help my delicate skin." After a moment he stood up free from the goalie pads and reached over to retrieve his stick from Jennifer and placed it on the floor next to his pads and trapper.

"Why are you all here anyway?" he asked irritably.

"I thought you might have been caught up in your little thing here, so I wanted to remind you that we have an actual mission tomorrow morning," replied Sheppard. He looked to his watch and then back to Rodney. "And it's getting late."

"Well of course it's getting late," griped Rodney. "It doesn't usually get earlier does it? I was well aware of the time, thank you very much." He turned to Radek, who was still in the middle of the rink giving Ronon very detailed instructions on how to check dirty and get away with it. "Radek, when you're finished put my equipment away and power down the boards."

When the scientist nodded Rodney leaned over the boards into the bench area where the tablet that controlled the boards rested. He tapped a series of keys and the section of boards nearest the door disappeared. After righting himself he looked up to see the only person still waiting for him was Jennifer.

"Going my way?" she asked with a grin.

Rodney's overactive and understaffed when it came to women brain worked in high gear to check for innuendos and double meanings, but found none.

"Yes, I am," he replied and started walking towards the door. When they walked through the door Rodney quietly asked, "Jennifer?"

She looked at him curiously. "Yes, Rodney?"

He looked to her and had the grace to appear embarrassed when he asked, "What time is it?"

A moment later Radek and Ronon looked to the door at the sound of Keller's laughter.

Ronon looked to the Czech and asked, "Does that happen a lot?"

Radek looked up to the bigger man. "More than you might think." He shook his head in amusement and said, "Now, if your opponent is coming straight at you, you can put your stick in front of you like so and try a poke check…"