AN) Sorry its been so long since I updated last. But I've been real busy lately… -sighs- So, not a lot of humor this chapter, but I hope you'll like it! See, its longer than my previous chaps!

Disclaimer: Nope, I hold no claims to SGA. I do however own the Tel'Nash.


McKay gasped, leaning heavily over his nightstand he struggled to brace himself against the stand, his quivering arms gave way, sending him to the floor. He hit the nightstand hard on his way down; -Rodney could feel the wet on his forehead, trickling around his left eye. Was it the left eye? Because his right eye was starting to pulse…

Staring at the ceiling Rodney smiled...Floating... A loud buzzing met his ears and he had the odd sensation of falling off a cliff...he could even see clouds, or were they faces? ...Puffy cloud faces? No, Rodney realized he was no longer falling, but he was floating into space. There! There was the sun. Rodney was sure he just floated past the sun, he squinted against the light...What are those face clouds doing in space...? I've just made a remarkable scientific discovery! Puffy face space clouds...!

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Beckett gently wiped the blood from and around McKay's left eye, then pressed a cloth to the gash on his forehead -keeping more blood from running into his eye. He gestured for a nurse to hold the cloth down and he shined the light into McKay's eyes.

He scribbled down a few notes and frowned at the blood covering the left half of his chest. Beckett cut the blue uniform shirt open and cleaned the blood away. The cut didn't look too deep; -it ran from his shoulder down to his last rib in a slightly curved line. Beckett figured his chest would need a few stitches but that was all. Although it would seem he would have to see to it that all sharp nightstand corners were sanded down, although what sort of machine could cut through the strange material he didn't not know.

Weir stepped in, hesitating at the door. "Will he be okay, doctor?" Weir hovered closer, grimacing at the blood-soaked shirt Beckett had removed laying on a metal tray.

Beckett began cleaning and stitching McKay's chest, "I won't have the least notion 'till I have the chance to analyze that creature's saliva, 'an see what caused his reaction."

"I just spoke to Teyla, she said this type of reaction to a Tel'Nash has never been reported."

"Maybe because they died before they were able to tell anyone." Sheppard thought aloud as he came in.

Weir cast him a dubious glare.

"No," Beckett shook his head, "I do-not eh think he's dying. Not now anyway."

"Not now?" Questioned Weir.

"I mean, there's just no way of telling this early. He's going to be fine physically," He gestured to Rodney's exposed chest and face. "But there's just no way of knowing what other reactions the saliva might cause him in the future." A nurse tapped him from behind, "Hmm? Oh, right. Pardon me." Beckett turned back to his patient, and began stitching him up.

---

Two hours later:

"So, McKay, what'cha doing?" Major Sheppard seated himself on the edge of Rodney's bed and was in the process of spilling granola crumbs on the bed sheets.

"Gee, major, what does it look like I'm doing? And can't you find a drop cloth or a tarp or something to eat that on?"

John paused in the midst of chewing his half dissolved granola bite, shrugged, and proceeded to ignore the scientist's request. "Someone's in a mood."

"Have you any idea at all how annoying it would be for me if those crumbs were to end up under my sheets? Touching my feet?"

"Fine," John said with his mouth still full of the crunchy oats, "I'll just take my good company elsewhere." He swallowed.

"Yes. Shoo." Rodney made a shooing gesture and when John stood up, he flicked the sheets causing the crumbs of the offensive granola bar to fly up.

"My eye! You just flung a huge piece of chocolate chip into my eye!" John shouted. He covered his right eye and glaring, shook the contents of his granola wrapper onto Rodney's bed.

"Ugh!"

"Just what is going on in here?" Demanded Weir, her hands on her hips. "Well, I see you're feeling better." She turned to John, "Now what was all that shouting about?"

"Evil scientist McKay," He cast Rodney a squinty glare, "Just flicked crumbs in my eye."

"So you retaliated like a little baby?" She waved her hand exasperatedly. "Where's the doctor?"

"I don't know."

"Well go figure it out."

"What's all this about then?" Doctor Beckett walked in and stood beside Rodney, checking the monitor's.

Rodney pointed an accusing finger at John. "He dropped crumbs on my sheets. Do you know what its like to have crumbs on your sheets?"

"I can imagine. Now, major Shepard, cannae you go somewhere, and stop bothering my patient?"

Rodney smirked at Sheppard as he raised his hands in defeat and retreated through the door.

Dr. Weir stepped into the hall, beckoning the doctor. "So has he recovered completely, doctor?" She tried not to sound too distressed, because that just wouldn't do for a woman of her rank to be too overly distressed. -Wouldn't it?

"I cannae a say for sure yet, he seems well enough." He answered, eyeing the granola crumbs littering the glossy floors.

Weir nodded and, not sure whether she should say anything to Rodney or just go back to her business, hesitated.

"Tlooooooophy?" The sound emanated from above. And with a clattering of duct grating down came the twittering Tel'Nash…and a very odd smell.

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In the dank bowels of the city, the shadowy figure stopped in its revelry, and snorted in disgust. Its laughter transforming into gasping coughs.