NEVER STOP MOVING
By TIPPER
(A/N - apologies in advance for the odd chapter headings. I got on a "four elements" kick)
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CHAPTER TWO: FACING THE WIND
"What happened?" Elizabeth's voice echoed through the Gateroom, both worried and, beneath that, a touch petulant.
John sighed as he watched her bound down the stairs towards them, her eyes intent on the four very wet members of Sheppard's Team coming through the wormhole from the Alpha Site, towels draped around their shoulders. He straightened, about to answer, when Ronon, coming to a stop right next to him, suddenly began shaking his head like a massive shaggy dog, spraying water everywhere. Sheppard just closed his eyes and took it—it wasn't like he could get any more wet.
"Oh, good GOD! What are you, Marmaduke?" Rodney hopped to one side, trying to get away from the tall man, only to be caught by Teyla before he fell on his rear. She smiled, lifted him up, and, before he could pull away, slung his arm over her shoulder and held on. He grumpily accepted the help.
Elizabeth's eyebrows lifted as she came to a stop in front of them, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "Are you all alright?" She could plainly see that they were, other than Rodney's ankle, so it was a bit of a loaded question. Or rather, it was a question intended to mean the opposite of what it actually meant. She was clearly not pleased, and their not being badly hurt would negate the need for a sympathy factor.
"All right?" McKay gasped, unsurprisingly not picking up on Elizabeth's real intent. "Are you kidding? We look like extras from the Poseidon Adventure, how can you even—"
"Doctor McKay may have sprained his ankle," Teyla supplied quickly, "but we are otherwise not badly hurt."
John managed not to groan at Teyla's honesty, but he failed not to grimace. There went that 'out.'
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him, not in the least bit fooled. "Good," she said to Teyla. "And your clothes?" She asked because, besides the fact that neither Rodney nor Teyla had their jackets, both had ripped their trousers off at the thighs, making it appear like they were wearing sloppy Bermuda shorts. The towels around their shoulders only added to the effect of vacationers returning from a hellish holiday.
"We ran out of tape," McKay replied, sighing a little and dropping his head tiredly.
"We...," Teyla glanced at McKay, then turned back to Elizabeth, "we were attempting to fix the engine of a hovercraft we had procured, but ran out of the tape we had located in the emergency toolbox. So—"
"We improvised," McKay finished, still with his head down, though he did shoot a dark sideways glance at John. He actually did sound really tired now, despite the snark. Sheppard couldn't actually tell if it was faked or not, though...he had his doubts.
"Yes," Teyla agreed. "We needed to tie off spitting valves and the like, so..." She shrugged, then pulled Rodney higher up on her shoulder. If anything, Rodney drooped further. Sheppard rolled his eyes.
Elizabeth accepted that with a soft, understanding smile, offering Teyla a nod (apparently, the Athosian was automatically seen as blameless, something Sheppard felt was very unfair) before turning a laser-like stare on the Colonel. The eyebrows lifted like a whip-crack.
Aw crap.
"Um..." John pressed his lips together, licked them, then smiled. "Your office?"
"I think you'd better," she said coolly. She glanced at Teyla. "See Rodney gets to the infirmary," she offered kindly. "I'm sure the Colonel can brief me sufficiently." Teyla nodded, and started shuffling Rodney away. John glared daggers at the scientist, who threw him a quick, knowing grin before disappearing, eyes sparkling. Bastard! John knew he was faking! Oh, he was so going to get him for that.
Ronon, meanwhile, made to follow Teyla and Rodney, but the sound of Elizabeth loudly clearing her throat stopped that. Her eyes were narrowed, as if daring the Satedan to try to get away. Ronon lowered his head and turned back around. Sheppard smiled at him, and Ronon gave him a dark look.
Elizabeth pivoted on one foot and stalked back to the stairs, Ronon and Sheppard following unhappily behind.
The people in the Gateroom tried their best not to watch, but it was hard to ignore. Especially when each squelching step of Ronon and Sheppard on the stairs left a small puddle behind. They watched as the two men followed her into her office, then stopped on the far side of the desk as she walked behind it. She turned and crossed her arms, expression stern.
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"So, I repeat," Elizabeth said, her voice steady and soft inside her office, "what happened? I thought we agreed you were only supposed to shake hands, scan for an underwater Ancient facility, and return...preferably with a nice trade agreement? Instead...you're sopping wet, hurt and, as usual, looking like you only just escaped with your lives."
"Was kinda close," Ronon drawled, shrugging unapologetically. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she shook her head in exasperation before focusing back on John. He just gave a sheepish smile in agreement, and she lowered her head.
"Damn it, John," she sighed. "What was it this time? And why did you have to return via the Alpha Site?"
"Lost our GDOs," Ronon answered again. Elizabeth stared at him a minute, then looked at both of them more closely, as if realizing for the first time that Sheppard was without his vest and gun.
"I see. Taken from you, I assume. I also assume that you lost all the rest of your equipment as well, except for your weapon, Ronon." Her eyebrows lifted again.
"Turns out," Sheppard said, shrugging, "they didn't like us."
Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Why?"
"It wasn't our fault, I promise," Sheppard said, raising his hands. "At least...not entirely."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Teyla said they were a peaceful people, and well-known traders in the galaxy. Their oceans providing—"
"That's just it," Sheppard said, shaking his head. "They are traders, and not the regular kind. They're the Gloucester fisherman kind—fiercely competitive and willing to die rather than give up what they see as their domain. When we tried to explain that we only wanted to scan their oceans for a facility, they didn't believe us."
"They thought we were trying to hurt their oceans," Ronon explained.
"Hurt?" Elizabeth repeated. "How?"
"Well...," Sheppard grimaced, "Okay, that might have been my fault."
"He really has to get over the bug thing," Ronon agreed, shaking his head again, sending more droplets to the floor.
Elizabeth winced slightly, glancing at her silk Persian rug (a gift from a former Iranian ambassador), before asking, "Bug thing?"
"They've this ugly black crustacean," Ronon said, when Sheppard seemed disinclined to speak. "Looks like an Iratus Bug."
Elizabeth's expression softened, and she looked at John, who was pressing his lips together tightly and rocking back a little on his heels.
"What did you do?" she asked gently.
"I, uh...might have shot one that was crawling towards me," the colonel replied evenly, not quite meeting her gaze. "Just as Rodney and Teyla were trying to explaining to their leader in his fancy, glass-walled mansion why we wanted to explore their oceans more fully..."
"Glass walled mansion?" Elizabeth repeated. Sheppard winced. "You fired your weapon at a creature in a house made of glass?"
"He shot more than one," Ronon added, smiling a little. "He freaked out and shot every single one in the room, including those in the tanks and three that were hanging on the glass walls."
"I didn't know they were decoration!" Sheppard insisted through clenched teeth. "Or hollow!"
"Walls shattered," Ronon gave a tiny grin at that. "Water and fish and stuff went everywhere..." He had grabbed one of his dreadlocks as he spoke and was squeezing, water dripping steadily down on Elizabeth's rug. She shuddered a little, trying not to react. Instead, she stared at the colonel, eyes pained.
"You destroyed their leader's home." It was more a statement than a question.
"It was apparently a little like their Versailles." Sheppard's features were pinched. "They weren't happy."
"Oh dear God," Elizabeth closed her eyes.
"Didn't matter." Ronon shrugged. "Wasn't like they were gonna help us anyway."
Elizabeth's eyes twitched, and she frowned. "What? Why not?"
Sheppard sighed, "Because they thought Rodney was really trying to steal from them." He looked up, "I just iced the cake, so to speak."
"Yeah, iced," Ronon repeated, and the tiny smile on his face was back.
Elizabeth was shaking her head in confusion. "Steal? Steal what?"
Sheppard shook his head, annoyance in his tone now. "They got it into their heads that we weren't there to look for an underground facility, but to steal their sea-life, to breed our own. And—"
"Compete with them," Elizabeth finished with a single, understanding nod. "I see." She sat down behind her desk. "So, between the mistrust and the," she rolled a hand around in the air, "massive destruction of a sacred landmark...?"
"They arrested us. We escaped. Stole a half-broken hovercraft and found Ronon's gun. Took part in a merry chase, with us as the chase-ees..." Sheppard had been ticking up fingers as he spoke, and he made a fist as he finished with, "And made it home, with nothing more than a sprained ankle and salt-encrusted hair." He smiled, as if to say, isn't that all that matters?
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, then she seemed to deflate. "So, now there's another group of people who hate us," she stated miserably.
"Yeah," John grimaced sympathetically, "probably."
"Great." She released a massive sigh, then looked up at the two men. "Okay. Cross PX2-557 off our list for now. It was unlikely we'd find anything anyway." She shrugged, and gave an odd, forced looking smile. "You two go clean up. Dry off. We'll talk about this more tomorrow."
The two men nodded, turning.
"Oh, and Colonel?" Elizabeth called, halting John in the door. He turned, eyebrows lifted. She offered a simpering smile. "You might want to go talk to Kate again," she suggested, her voice honey sweet, "about the bug thing?"
He just stared at her a moment longer, then turned and left, not dignifying that with an answer.
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Teyla stepped to one side after she deposited Rodney next to an infirmary bed, watching as he pushed himself up to sit on it with a groan. He lifted the towel still around his shoulders and roughly dried his head before dropping it to the side, leaving his hair sticking up at all angles. She pulled her own towel tighter about her shoulders—she felt very cold still. As if on cue, she shivered.
"Yeah, a couple of blankets would be nice, huh?" Rodney groused, having obviously spotted the shiver. He leaned forward off the bed, trying to see around the corner into the main infirmary. He was clearly looking for Carson. "Where the hell is everyone anyway? Shouldn't Elizabeth have radioed down that we were coming? It's like a ghost town." He cupped his hands round his mouth and called loudly, "Hello! Injured heroes returned from the front here!"
Teyla looked up from where she'd been unconsciously staring at the towel Rodney had dropped. Her mind had been wandering, still mostly back on the planet, back in that engine room. Blinking a little at his shout, she glanced across at the clock on the wall.
"It's 2:30 in the morning," she noted quietly.
"Hmm?" Rodney frowned at her, then he too looked across at the clock. He frowned more when he saw how late it was. "Oh. Still, shouldn't—"
"Doctor McKay?" A young, blonde haired doctor appeared from around a corner, smiling brightly. "I got a call that you were back. Something about an ankle?"
Rodney immediately tensed, his whole body going rigid. "Where's Carson?"
The woman's eyebrows lifted, "Doctor Beckett? He's asleep—as is most of the city. You were not expected back for another day, and unless this is a medical emergency he—"
"Hell yes, it's a medical emergency!" Rodney lifted his abused leg, pointing at his ankle, "Mission injury! Not to mention," he plucked at his wet shirt, "possible near drowning. I need a real doctor! Where's Carson?"
The woman stared at him a moment, obviously taken aback. Teyla tried not to smile. Whoever this doctor was, this was clearly her first time dealing with Rodney. Abruptly, the woman frowned.
"Doctor McKay, I am a real doctor. Doctor Beckett may be the chief medical officer, but—"
"Yes, that's right. He's the CMO. And I'm the Chief Scientist. Only chiefs look at chiefs. So why don't you just give him a call and—"
"He's running on very little sleep as it is, Doctor McKay. Please, I am perfectly qualified to—"
"Qualified, sure," Rodney crossed his arms. "But competent? That I don't know. Biro's qualified, but I wouldn't let her touch my ankle unless it was bluer than your scrubs." He lifted his chin, "And I don't know you at all."
Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her own arms. "You would really wake up Doctor Beckett, who spent eight hours in surgery with Doctor Morrison today and is completely exhausted, just because you don't know if I'm competent?"
McKay smiled, "Yup."
"Well, I won't wake him up." She lifted her chin to match Rodney's.
"Fine, then I will." Rodney reached up to touch his ear, then stopped when all he felt was his own skin. No radio. He frowned, and looked around, obviously looking for a radio. At the last second, he saw the one that the doctor wore. "Um...can I have yours?"
"No." Then she smiled evilly, her hands dropping to rest at her hips. "Want to fight me for it?"
"No, but I bet I could get Teyla to do it. She'd wipe the floor with you—wouldn't you, Teyla?"
Teyla jumped slightly at her name, having drifted off again, and blinked a few times. "What?" she asked. The doctor was looking at her quizzically, and Teyla frowned. What had Rodney been saying? Something about...
"Take her radio from her so I can call Carson," Rodney repeated, pointing at the doctor. Teyla's eyebrows lifted, then pressed down as she gave him a withering look, causing his smug expression to disappear.
"Let her look at you, Rodney," she said firmly. Rodney gave her a betrayed look, as if he expected her to back him up, but Teyla continued to give him a 'don't even think about it' stare. Rodney frowned, and returned his focus to the doctor.
He met the woman's arched stare for a long time, his arms still crossed, and then, without any warning, he deflated, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Fine," he mumbled. "But for the record," he peered up at her through his eyebrows, "I'm only agreeing because I'm exhausted and in pain."
The doctor just gave him a wry look, but made no comment as she stepped forward. "Could you remove your boot, please?"
Teyla was leaning against the end of Rodney's bed, back to feeling invisible as Rodney untied the laces and then hissed in pain when he pulled off the wet boot, and the equally wet sock. Both he and the doctor regarded the sock with disgust as he dropped it to the floor, using only two fingers, as if it were something revolting.
He wasn't wrong.
Teyla's eyes drifted from the sock back to Rodney, noting the burns on his arms and hands as he leaned forward to watch the doctor start to manipulate his ankle. He would have to get those seen to as well. It reminded her that he had not complained once about the burns or how he got them. Images of the scientist working doggedly on the hovercraft's engines came to mind, his deft hands solving problem after problem, getting them the speed and the maneuverability they needed for John to outfox their pursuers. John had then used everything Rodney had given him, the colonel's expertise saving their lives...as always.
She could not have done any of it herself. All she had been was in the way. Standing in that engine room, feeling more and more like a liability. John, Rodney and Ronon had all been vital, while she just tried to hold on.
She closed her eyes, stopping her mind from dwelling on her inability to help back on the planet. It was too late to think of such things. Clearing her throat, she straightened. She needed to do something more than just stand here.
"I should return to the Control Room," she said, looking to Rodney.
He just frowned, then winced as the doctor turned his ankle in a way that obviously hurt. "Why?" he asked, clearly thinking it was a bad idea.
"To help debrief Doctor Weir," Teyla said. "She will need to hear—"
"What? Are you crazy? Elizabeth's going to be furious!" Rodney's face was almost comical as he stared at her. Then he grimaced, shaking his head. "Why subject yourself to that? Besides," he looked back at his ankle in the doctor's hands, "it's not like you're needed. Sheppard and Ronon can handle it. What could you possibly add?"
Teyla stared at him, his words sinking into her skin like acid. She knew he had not meant his words generally, but they were so close to her own thoughts, it was like a slap in the face. And, worse, he was right. Utterly and completely. What could she add? Her eyes lowered to the ground, and she gathered the towel even tighter around her shoulders. "I see your point."
"Heh," Rodney smirked, "told you. Ow!" He looked down at the doctor, "Do you have to twist it so hard! Ease up, She-Ra! What part of 'in pain' did you not understand?"
That earned him a dark look, but the woman did seem to lighten her touch a little. Teyla slumped against the bed again, earning her another look from Rodney, though this time he looked a little puzzled by her behavior, as if noticing her depression for the first time. Then he winced again, in connection with one more press on his clearly swollen ankle.
"Ow! Damn it! Why aren't you done?" he demanded.
"I'm done," the doctor said as she lowered his leg, sounding almost as relieved as Rodney looked at that pronouncement. "I think you sprained it."
"Gee, you think?" Rodney asked with false perkiness. The young woman looked up, about to answer 'yes', when she saw the patronizing look on his face. She grimaced.
"Oh," she said, straightening and placing her hands on her hips. "Well, we should probably take X-rays, just in case."
Rodney just stared at her instead of replying, not letting up his glare. She finally dropped her arms and ducked her head, muttering something about going to get it set up, and quickly walked away.
Teyla grimaced, and stepped forward again. She knew he was uncomfortable with anyone checking on him other than Carson, but still...
"Rodney," she said softly, holding her arms close about her as she looked out the way the young woman had left. "You really should not speak to Carson's—"
"You should get something for those burns," he said suddenly.
Teyla looked back, to find him looking at her arms. Frowning, she stretched them out in front of her, turning them inwards to see the damage better. They were dark and puffy and, in some places, almost purple—just like the ones she had been noticing on Rodney's own arms. And now that she was looking at them—they started to ache. She also felt a little sick to her stomach.
"Oh," she said softly, blinking once, "I had forgotten about my arms."
"You forgot?" Rodney snorted. "Your arms look like someone with palsy tried to steam iron your skin, and you forgot?"
"I fell into the engine room wall a few times," she explained, feeling foolish all of a sudden. She pulled them back, once more hiding them under the cover of the towel. "The floor was unsteady."
"Yes," he said, tone as dry as the desert, "because we were on a boat." He fairly popped the last word.
She swallowed, lowering her arms to her sides again. "Hitting the walls must have burned my arms."
"No, really? And here I thought it was a bad tanning bed accident."
"There was nothing to hang onto next to the communicator. I could not avoid—"
"Teyla," he gave her his best 'you are an idiot' stare, "I know. I was there, remember?"
Her teeth gritted. How could she not? He had been there, pulling off the impossible, while she had done nothing but get hurt. Stupidly, idiotically hurt.
"It is nothing," she said, flushing now, both in anger and embarrassment. "I am fine."
"Oh, please," he sneered. "It is not nothing and you are not fine. We're safe; you don't need to be all ridiculously stoic and proud now."
Teyla winced at that. Why was he pushing her like this? It felt like he was being abnormally caustic, but she willed herself not to respond to his tone in kind. She was feeling miserable enough as it was.
"I will ask the doctor for something," she mumbled finally, looking vaguely in the direction that the young woman had disappeared, and then closing her eyes. She kept her face averted from him deliberately.
Fact was...Rodney had never, ever made her feel small, but, for some reason she could not fully explain, he was making her feel that way now. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes, and she fought to keep them at bay.
"Teyla," Rodney's voice had changed, softened, "are you okay?" Teyla frowned, blinked to get rid of the wetness, and turned to look at him again. He was watching her worriedly—he may not be the most astute of men, but he also wasn't blind. "Teyla, look, I don't know why I just said all that about the tanning bed and stuff. Look, I just, you know, what with the whole being wet and cold and my ankle hurting and the near death experience thing..." He frowned, knowing he really didn't need to explain it to her after three years. "Just...are you really okay?"
"I answered that already," she said softly, looking away again. "I said, I was fine."
He frowned more deeply. "Yeah, I know, but, are you sure? Because I'm thinking maybe that doctor should look at you first. You're acting a little weird. You might have picked up something from the water, you know. All sorts of parasites live—"
"For the third time, I am fine," she said again, this time a little more angrily.
"Oh, Teyla, seriously, look at you. Look at your arms. You're clearly—"
"Why will you not listen to me?" she demanded, finally turning to look at him, ignoring his jump at her snap. " I may not know as much as you, but I should think I know my own body. I have repeated several times that—"
"Doctor McKay?" the blonde doctor had returned, smiling a little too broadly—it was obviously forced. "The machine is ready." She was pushing a wheelchair in front of her.
Rodney, still looking a bit shocked by Teyla's outburst, pointed at the Athosian. "You need to check Teyla. Something's wrong with her."
The doctor's eyebrows lifted, and she looked at the Athosian. "Teyla? Are you—"
"Oh for...I am fine!" Teyla spat, shaking her head. "There is nothing wrong. I am merely tired."
"Oh, come on, Teyla." Rodney frowned, rolling his eyes a little. "Don't be stupid." He looked at the doctor again, "Make sure she's okay. She's obviously sick."
"I am not stupid, Rodney," Teyla said quietly, defensively.
"Really? Because telling a doctor you're fine when you're obviously having some sort of episode seems pretty stup—"
"I am not having an episode!" Teyla snapped. She could feel her face burning, some of the old rage she had once felt at Sergeant Bates returning. She saw Rodney flinch again at her harsh tone, but she no longer cared. "And how dare you call me stupid, twice!"
Rodney, blinking away quickly, started to splutter. "Teyla. I...I didn't mean...Of course, you're not stupid. Not, I mean, all the time. Just...I mean, it's stupid not to be looked at..." He trailed off at her increasingly bilious expression. It sounded like he was humoring her, and it caused Teyla's ire to rise even higher. She moved to face him, crossing her arms despite how much they hurt and lifting her chin.
"Not all the time?" she repeated, furious now. "So you think I am stupid some of the time?"
Rodney's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Teyla leaned forward, able to meet him eye to eye since he was sitting on the gurney.
"Just because I can not do what you do, does not make me stupid, Doctor McKay," she said softly. He backed away, clearly more afraid of the quiet in her voice now than the loudness from before. "Nor does it make me a fool, however much you may think so. And I will thank you not to say such a thing to me again."
And with that, she turned and walked out of the infirmary, not looking back.
Consequently, she didn't see Rodney's slack-jawed expression, or hear him question the doctor: "Where the hell did that come from?"
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Teyla's swift stride slowed as she neared the transporter on this level, realizing for the first time that she had no real idea where she was going. She had just been walking, moving through her anger.
But why had she been so angry? And so defensive? She had never felt it necessary to defend herself to Rodney before. She had learned a long time ago that he did not mean what he said, and, when he did mean it, he never meant it to belittle, just "stating fact" in most cases. And, it was true, most of the time it was exactly that—the truth.
She had been acting "stupid" — the doctor could easily have looked at her arms and given her something. She was feeling ill, and her arms did hurt—she should not have said it was nothing. He didn't mean that she was stupid—just that she had said something stupid just then...a distinction she normally would have made without even thinking about it.
But she had not made that distinction. And her reaction had been irrationally angry.
She slowed to a stop, standing still and alone in the empty hallway. She felt tears on her face, and wiped them away impatiently using the backs of her hands before crossing her arms tightly across her chest. They were aching quite a lot now, and she was still shivering with cold. She lowered her head and closed her eyes.
Fact is, it did not take much soul searching to know what was really bothering her.
Rodney had made her feel small...because she felt small. She had never felt so useless as she had in that engine room. It was only compounded by the fact that she had gotten hurt—and she hadn't even been doing anything useful. Everyone had been doing something—John was piloting the craft, using his knowledge of machines to guide them through, as he always did, maneuvering them to safety. Ronon had been defending them—the only one capable of doing so, since he had been able to find his weapon on one of the men guarding them in their cell. And Rodney...Rodney had been achieving the impossible. Yet again.
And she had done nothing more than hit a button on a communications device when ordered. Her only contribution.
And it wasn't the first time that had happened. So often she had felt pushed to the back on missions, watching as John or Rodney pulled off a miracle, or Ronon almost single-handedly defeated some unimaginable enemy. And she just...watched.
What value was she, really? What use? What would her father say, knowing that she had boxed herself into a role of such insignificance? He had raised her to lead, to be at the forefront of the fight...not to just watch.
"Teyla?"
The Athosian looked up and turned around, to see the young doctor jogging towards her. The woman had a kind smile on her face, and a tube of lotion in one hand.
"Teyla," she let out a breath, "I'm glad I caught you. Doctor McKay explained you might have some burns. This should help." She handed Teyla the lotion, and gave her quick instructions on how to use it. "You may also be feeling a little ill," she added perkily, "sick to your stomach, headachy and cold...maybe a little overemotional?" Her eyebrow arched when she said the last, and Teyla grimaced. The doctor pushed on, "All that will pass. Just rest and drink plenty of fluids." When she was finished, she studied Teyla moment, her eyes narrowing a little in contemplation. She tilted her head. "Are you sure you're all right? Other than the burns, I mean?"
Teyla stared at her, wishing that she didn't feel the liquid burning at the corners of her eyes. She knew what that meant, and she was terrified she would not be able to stop them from falling.
"I am fine," she said, her voice no calmer than she felt.
The young woman frowned some more, and shook her head. "Clearly," she said softly, "you are not."
Teyla looked away, willing herself not to blink, and for the liquid to reabsorb. She did not know this doctor well—she had covered for Carson a few times in the infirmary, Teyla knew, but not often enough to make any real impression.
Fact was, she was a stranger.
"Teyla?" the doctor prompted again.
Teyla's eyes dropped to the lotion in her hand. "Thank you for the lotion, Doctor."
The woman just nodded, the sucked in her lips a little. "Look, why don't you come back? Burns, even first degree ones, can take quite a toll. I can see if there is anything else we—"
"I would rather not."
The doctor's eyes softened. "If this is about Doctor McKay," she tilted her head, "if you like, I can run interference. I know he is rude, but—"
"I know how Doctor McKay can be," Teyla said sharply, frowning. "I would think that I know him a little better than you do."
"Oh," the doctor's face flushed, and she nodded, "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I only meant—"
"No, it is..." Teyla sighed heavily, and closed her eyes, gathering her calm back around her. "I am the one who should apologize, Doctor. I know what you meant." Opening her eyes again, she offered a smile, which the other woman obviously saw right through. Teyla was feeling out of sorts, clearly, first yelling at Rodney and now this woman who was only doing her job. She shrugged, "It has been a long day."
"Yes, I see that," the doctor's voice was very soft now. "I was only trying to help."
Teyla's eyes lowered. Slowly, she nodded. "I know the feeling," she noted quietly. Then she frowned, "Unfortunately, sometimes we are simply incapable of providing the kind of help that is needed. Limited by our lack of knowledge, or of understanding, or of experience. It is something we just have to accept." She gave a single, cold nod, then turned and walked to the transporter. "Thank you again for the lotion," she called over her shoulder as she stepped inside and hit the panel...escaping.
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TBC...