A week passed before Ronon returned to Atlantis and it was almost two weeks before Jennifer caught her first glimpse of the man since their possible moment in the infirmary.

Jennifer had the feeling, indistinct as it was, that Ronon was avoiding her. She had nothing solid to base this assumption on, just the feeling that something was off. It wasn't like they had spent tons of time together before, just the odd conversation while waiting for food in the mess hall and the times she had to patch him up, but she literally hadn't seen him since his return. No wounds, no sightings in the hall, nothing. She knew he was busy but this was just strange and it was disconcerting to think that Ronon was actively avoiding her.

So it came as a surprise and a relief to Jennifer when Ronon came into the infirmary almost two weeks after their maybe moment.

Of course it didn't look like he'd come willingly - it seemed that Sheppard would be dragging him by his dreads if he could get away with it - but he was there and Jennifer could barely stop the huge grin which spread across her face at the sight of him. He didn't look in her direction, seemed focused on glaring a hole in the back of Sheppard's head, as Ronon trailed along behind him and toward Dr Beckett.

Jennifer blushed and attempted to look busy when Beckett and Sheppard suddenly looked in her direction. She bent her head down, put all her concentration into sorting the supplies before her and prayed that her face didn't look as red as it felt.

"Dr Keller?" Beckett called from across the room and Jennifer slowly raised her head to look at him. Both him and Sheppard were looking at her, Sheppard with a huge and faintly creepy smile on his face, but Ronon was still glaring at his team leader as if it would be enough to stop whatever was going to happen next. "If you're not too busy at the moment, love, could you see to Ronon's stitches?"

She looked down at the swabs that were clenched in her hands, looked at Beckett and the two men standing beside him, before shrugging and letting the supplies fall to the table. "Sure, I'm not too busy."

"Thanks, it should only take you a moment."

"Yes, thanks Doc," said Sheppard with another smile before gesturing back at Ronon with an eye roll. "I found him alone in the gym, blood everywhere and absolutely refusing to come by to get stitched up. I thought we'd trained you better by now."

Ronon growled at that causing Sheppard to laugh before shoving the bigger man lightly forward and walking away. Ronon sat himself down on one of the infirmary beds - it was probably out of habit now more than anything - and waited while Jennifer gathered up her materials.

Maybe he was avoiding her - Ronon usually came to the infirmary on his own, even if it did sometimes take him a couple hours to get there. But completely refusing to come? That seemed excessive which was why Jennifer was starting to really worry. Maybe the moment wasn't actually a moment? Maybe he thought she was completely crazy and didn't want anything to do with her? Maybe he hated-

"Ow."

"What? Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean, my head-"

"It's okay Doc, just pinched a little."

"Right, right, I'm sorry."

Jennifer didn't think it would be possible for her face to get any more red than it was at that very moment. There she'd been, floating about in her own little world and she'd practically stabbed Ronon while attempting to stitch him up. She felt like an intern again, her hands were shaking so badly. It wasn't a huge cut, although it was surprisingly deep, and Jennifer found herself impressed, if a little ticked off, at the amount of pain he must have endured in order to not stop by the infirmary.

She was not acting at all professional, that was the problem with her 'crush.' She thought back to when she had a crush on John Gallagher in 10th grade, how she'd blush and stammer and daydream at the thought of him. She also remembered, in the end, how he'd told her they made great friends before laughing about her "pathetic little crush" to all his friends. She'd made a promise to herself then: she'd never repeat the John Gallagher experience as long as she lived. She was 27, a respected doctor and a mature adult - she was not a schoolgirl with crushes anymore. Right?

"Right, well, you're all done here."

She watched as Ronon tilted his head to inspect the white bandage which currently adorned his right bicep. He patted it once, glanced at her and patted it again before sliding off the bed and turning to face her.

She could practically see the wheels turning in his head although his face remained impassive and she had no idea what he was actually thinking. She did know, however, that if he told her they made great friends or something equally lame and condescending, she'd puke. On him. Or at least in his general direction.

"Thanks."

"No problem - just try not to mess with the bandage too much."

"Right." He paused, seemed to turn over something in his mind, before beginning again. "So do you like it?"

"Like what?" asked Jennifer, completely confused.

"You know, being a doctor, stitching people up."

"I guess so, I mean, yes, I like it most of the time. Why?"

"Why what?" asked Ronon, tilting his head slightly.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just, well, Sheppard, I mean, I just thought I'd ask," he finally ground out with what sounded like a sigh at the end.

"Right."

"Right." He paused again, seemed to consider his next words as he studied her face, and Jennifer watched, fascinated, as the man she always thought of as being calm and collected appeared to be actually fidgeting where he stood. "I'd better go - training session."

"Have fun, I guess." He smiled at that, a genuine warm grin which seemed to encompass his whole face.

"I will. You're done here at 6, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright, see you later." With that he walked off, leaving Jennifer stunned and confused in the middle of the infirmary.