Don't own SGU; don't want to.
All I want for Christmas is Dr Rush.
The Greater Good
By EllieV
A sequel to Fever by LadyPredator
It was Greer who reported it. The sudden shudder, the shaking, the constant shivering.
He went to TJ.
"I really wish you hadn't told me," she said, her voice deliberately depressed.
Greer looked offended on Dr Rush's behalf.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. He added a belated, "Lieutenant."
"Well, did you ask him how he's feeling?" she asked. "It's only been a couple of weeks so he's still not going to be a hundred per cent."
"Rush saved my life," Greer said and pointedly, "He saved all our lives—again." He folded his arms. "Yeah, I asked him. He said he felt fine."
"And now I have to go ask him," TJ said morosely. "He'll tell me he's fine, too."
"I suppose you don't have to ask him—ma'am," Greer said. His voice was respectful.
"He wasn't the easiest of patients, Sergeant," TJ said.
"I was there," Greer said. "Changing bed pans, cleaning up vomit."
He gazed at her and she pursed her lips.
"I am going to talk to him," she said. "I just need to … you know … build up to it."
She'd tried to avoid seeing him. There were reasons why and she shied away from admitting to any of them.
Greer had been Rush's shadow since the scientist had saved his life. He'd helped nurse Rush through the fever. Not gently, of course, but he hadn't flagged at all. Even after the fever had broken, Rush continued to vomit for days afterwards and TJ thought they'd lose him anyway. Finally, he managed to keep down some water for longer than a couple of hours at a time and later some of Becker's banana-flavored white gloop. Just the smell of the mashed potatoes made him sick and so did everything else they had so TJ ordered Becker to save their depleted stock of gloop for him. It caused complaints of special treatment, of course.
The science team had mostly been left to their own devices since Rush had been sick. None of them seemed capable of taking charge. Milling around like sheep without him, TJ thought scornfully. Even when she reluctantly released him from the infirmary, she wouldn't allow him to go back to work. She ordered that he rest and he was suspiciously meek about it. He spent most of his days in his room, not leaving it even to eat. She told Greer to take the food to Rush's quarters. Despite still taking care of his own duties, Greer was found outside Rush's room the rest of the time. TJ suspected he slept outside the door, too, in case Rush needed something.
Greer reported Rush had a shower each morning and TJ had to resist the urge to be in the same vicinity. When he was sick, she'd become obsessed by the tattoo on his shoulder; she told herself she just wanted to ask him about it. Where he got it. Why he'd got it. He'd probably stare at her for her nosiness and not respond.
Greer said he'd meet her at Rush's quarters but she didn't get there for a couple of hours. He gave her a reproachful look as she arrived.
"The door's shut," she said.
"I ain't gonna sit out here with him glaring at me," Greer said.
TJ gave a 'fair enough' shrug. She knocked and called, 'Dr Rush?' She waited. There was no response. She glanced at Greer. She knocked again and called, "Dr Rush, it's Lt Johansen." Still no answer.
Without asking permission, Greer hit the control. The door slid open. TJ blinked to adjust her eyes. Rush had a small room. It wasn't like Colonel Young's with its nice leather couches. Rush didn't even have a chair. He wasn't sitting on the bed. He was on the other side of it, sitting on the floor. He had wrapped himself up in the Ancient quilt that was on the bed. But it was what was in front of him that made her draw in an annoyed breath.
She'd forgotten all about Eli's damned floating console. No wonder Rush hadn't protested about bed rest; he'd simply brought the console back to his quarters and continued to work. Bastard. No wonder he looked so tired when Greer dragged him to the infirmary to get his arm examined. Every single time she wanted to apologize for invading his personal space.
He hadn't turned around and she realized he was wearing earphones. She nudged the bed to let him know she was there. His head jerked up and he turned with a look of surprise on his face. It took two turns for his hands to connect with the earphones to pull them off. A faint violin sound came through until he switched off the iPod. He looked exhausted, drained and she thought perhaps he had actually been dozing.
"Lieutenant," he said.
"I told you to rest," she snapped, gruff annoyance disguising her relief that he seemed okay. "I didn't mean for you to bring that thing back here and work non-stop."
Rush made an exaggerated gesture with his wrist. It shook badly. "Oh dear, is that the time?" he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I'm due for my scolding and late afternoon nap."
"On the bed," she said blinking away the image of tucking him in. "Not wrapped up in a quilt on the floor."
His lip curled and he said acerbically, "Yes, ma'am."
She pushed the console aside and said, "Come on."
Strangely, he didn't argue. He nearly fell as he got up, tripping on the quilt. She caught him and he pulled away immediately, though not before she felt him shaking. She pushed him to sit on the bed and wrapped the quilt around him. He shuddered badly. She could tell he tried to stop it.
"You don't have a chair in here," TJ commented.
He looked around vaguely and said, "It didn't come with one."
And it didn't occur to him to find one or just change quarters? TJ gave an inward sigh.
She crouched down by his side and looked up at him. "How long have you been shivering like that," she asked.
He didn't answer right away and when he did, his voice was reluctant. "I'm just cold."
"You should have said something," she said. "We could have …"
He cut her off. "A nice woolly hat," he said, his voice flat. "And you can find me a big cashmere coat because we brought so many clothes with us. We brought body bags not clothes. I suppose they're handier in the end."
Rush didn't usually sound so depressed. He wasn't looking at her and she felt a tinge of alarm at his tone. He shuddered again. She tentatively touched his hands; they were icy cold. He pulled them out of her reach, tucking them under his arms. Each time he gave a shudder, he seemed to be worse. The shivering didn't stop.
"Sergeant," she said. "Find some empty rooms and bring the quilts back here."
"Yes, ma'am," Greer said crisply. He disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.
Rush's head was drooping, just as it had when she'd come in, and she said gently, "Come on, lie down."
He didn't say anything, which alarmed her even more. She wondered whether or not just to take him to the infirmary.
"It's probably just because you were sick," she said reassuringly. "It will go away eventually." She finished inanely, "Think warm thoughts."
His eyes had shut but his brow creased and he opened his eyes to stare at her. Dark pools to drown in. Greer's arrival saved her. She directed him to place the quilts around Rush, basically cocooning him. Rush was asleep before they finished.
"I'll stay here, Lieutenant," Greer said, his voice lowered.
"How long have you been sitting outside this room, Sergeant?" TJ asked equally softly. "Most of the day?"
Greer shrugged.
"My turn," she said. "You go get some rest. You can relieve me in four hours."
Greer looked mutinous but said, "Yes, ma'am."
He turned towards the door and she said, "Oh, before you go?"
"Ma'am?" he said.
She gestured at the room. "Can you find me a chair?"
He brought her back a comfortable armchair putting it to one side of the bed. He waited until she sat.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said.
"For what?" she asked as Rush shifted slightly in his sleep.
"I should have realized he was working," he said, his voice troubled.
"He shut the door on you, didn't he," TJ suggested. "Stop blaming yourself, Sergeant."
"Yes, ma'am," Greer said mulishly.
She made a go away gesture and settled back in the chair. Rush didn't wake at all and he kept shivering even in his sleep. TJ resolved to check him completely in the morning. Dr Sims at Icarus had once said that there was nothing more restful than watching a patient sleep but it had always bored her. When the door to Rush's quarters opened, she was startled to find two hours had gone by. It was Colonel Young.
"TJ?" he said. She stood, putting her finger to her lips. He came in and frowned down at Rush in his cocoon. The quilts hadn't stopped the shivering but he was sound asleep. "Greer said Rush was sick again."
She made a 'let's go outside' gesture and with another frown, he followed her out.
"Shouldn't he be in the infirmary?" Young asked.
"Maybe," she admitted. "It's not like I can do tests for anything. He could have nerve damage, maybe, but honestly sir, I think it's just a combination of lack of sleep, overwork and that he's still not recovered from the fever."
"Overwork," Young repeated. "He's been in his quarters."
"With Eli's floating console," TJ said.
Young rolled his eyes and made a face that said he really wasn't surprised.
"Get it out of there," he ordered.
"No, sir," TJ said immediately.
"TJ …" Young began.
"Sir, he works, that's what he does," TJ said more loudly than she meant to. Rush stirred a little.
"You think he's going to follow some limits?" Young asked skeptically.
"Let me try," she said.
"You're going to even without my permission, TJ," Young said drily.
"Yes, sir," she agreed.
"Okay," he said. "You go get some rest; I'll stay here. Keep an eye on him."
Since Rush been sick there'd been a fragile peace of sorts between he and Young but that was mostly because he'd been in his quarters. TJ did not want him waking up to find Young there.
"Greer will be here soon to relieve me," she said. "You could do with some sleep yourself, sir."
Surprisingly, Young simply asked if she needed anything.
"I wouldn't mind something to read," TJ said. She had no intention of reading but she didn't want to give the impression that Rush watching had just made it into her Top 10 things to do.
"Sure," he said. "Did you know that David Walters has a Kindle?"
"No," she said in a 'oh wow' voice. She knew but she hadn't told anyone. Not everything had to make it into community usage. "I prefer paperbacks anyway."
"I'll find something," he promised. He looked behind her into the room. "He's a pain in the ass, TJ, but we need him."
"Sir," she said noncommittally.
He had one last glare at Rush and said he'd find her a book. Fifteen or so minutes later, a marine came by with a battered paperback. It was a murder mystery, one of those quirky English village types where every character was an eccentric and the visiting amateur detective ran rings around the stolid village policeman. She read the first couple of chapters in case Young asked her about it later. Rush continued to shiver in his sleep. Every now and again, he made a muffled whimpering sound as if he was dreaming, although his eyes weren't flickering in REM.
Greer relieved her at precisely four hours. TJ handed him the murder mystery and said to call her immediately if he thought Rush was getting worse. Rush let out a whimper and Greer said uneasily, "Like that?"
"No," she said. "I think that's just a reaction to the cold." She watched Rush for a moment and said, "And let me know if he wakes up. I think he's better off here than in the infirmary but I want to check him over first."
"The Colonel said he should be in the infirmary," Greer said.
"The infirmary's noisy and the beds are even worse than the ones in crew quarters," she said. "He needs to be kept warm and we couldn't do that"—she indicated the cocoon—"because the beds in the infirmary are too small." Greer nodded in agreement. "I'll relieve you in four hours unless he wakes up first." Greer protested that he could do longer than four hours but she shook her head. "Four hours, Sergeant."
"Ma'am," Greer said, standing to attention.
She gave him a smile and checked Rush one more time. His hair had fallen over his face and with Greer there she couldn't brush it back. She checked the cocoon instead and went to the door.
She turned back and said softly, "Sergeant?"
"Ma'am," Greer said.
"You're doing a great job," she said. She nodded towards Rush. "I don't think I'd have coped without you. Thank you."
Greer ducked his head slightly in embarrassment.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said.
She went back to the infirmary and tried to sleep. Finally, she checked her watch and went to the mess hall to get a drink. Inman had worked out a tea substitute with some leaves they'd found on one of the planets Destiny stopped at. There was no caffeine in it and it was foul without sugar but it was better than just plain water all the time. Only the few British team members wouldn't touch it. She'd seen Rush take a sip and screw up his face. She hadn't seen him drink it since. It was late but there were still people around in the mess hall, playing cards and chatting, Camille Wray amongst them.
"Oh, Lieutenant, I wanted to talk to you," Wray said.
"Sure," TJ said, pretending not to mind.
"About Rush," said Wray.
TJ swallowed her retort of 'Dr Rush, thank you' and instead said, "What about him?"
"Well, when is he going to be back at work?" Wray said officiously. "The science team needs direction."
It wasn't like TJ didn't agree with that so she said, "Yes, I suppose so."
"Well?" Wray demanded.
"Ms Wray, Dr Rush is still very unwell," she said in as a patient voice as possible. "He's barely able to keep food down yet. The science team is just going to have to sort themselves out."
"He could give them orders," Wray said.
TJ had an urge to smack the woman's smug little face.
"The reason that Dr Rush is still very sick, Ms Wray," she responded, trying not to sound cold, "is because he has actually been working since I released him from the infirmary. He has that floating console with him and I bet that he has been giving jobs to the science team. Let's check on that, shall we?"
She pulled Wray by the arm over to the table where sat Volker, Park and Brody and a few people she didn't know very well. Wray looked embarrassed, as well she should.
"I have a bet with Ms Wray," TJ announced. "You guys can settle it for us."
"Okay," Volker said doubtfully.
TJ liked Volker; he was kind of sweet but she was on a roll here.
"I bet Ms Wray that despite Dr Rush nearly dying and still being really sick that he's been getting the science team to do stuff," she said, a glint in her eye.
"Yeah, sure," said Brody. "He's been issuing orders like there's no tomorrow."
"And have you done all those things?" TJ asked. The looks around the table said no.
"Not everything," Park said. "I mean … we have to check with Colonel Young …"
That meant they'd picked the stuff they wanted to do and were using Young's directive that everything go through him as an excuse. TJ repeated something she'd overheard Rush say scathingly at Icarus. She didn't get it at the time but she now knew what he had meant.
"Honestly, you guys couldn't organize a piss up in a brewery," she said with scorn. "No wonder he's relapsed."
"Has he?" Wray asked. Park, Brody and Volker looked guilty. Damn them.
"I'm trying to take care of a patient," TJ said not responding directly. "I can't do that if he has to sort out every little problem that comes up to the extent that he's working full-time when he should be resting. Stuff that you guys could do really easily by yourselves; stuff that doesn't need a genius to work out. Just … just think about that okay?"
She stalked out, wondering if she should make it official. She decided, after her fuming died down, that she'd wait to see what happened. Sheep, she thought, all of them sheep.
Sheep.
Her footsteps slowed and she stopped. She didn't know how long she stood there thinking.
"TJ?" Scott's voice said. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "I was just thinking about cashmere coats and big woolly hats."
"Um …" Scott said.
She went back to the mess hall. More of the scientists were there in a huddle. She ignored them and went straight to Becker. Scott was following her.
"Becker, the goat-sheep animals we got when Dr Rush was hurt," she said. "What happened to their skins?"
"You want to make a coat out of their skins?" Scott sounded revolted.
"No, no," she said waving him off. "Becker?"
"Uh, well, I thought they might come in handy for something," Becker said, "so I put them in the cold room, too."
She could have kissed him. "Show me," she said.
"TJ, what are you doing?" Scott asked.
She took no notice of him. Becker showed her the skins. The 'wool' was thick, soft and silky. Not quite cashmere but it might do. Becker volunteered to shear it all off.
They'd started a community noticeboard a while back. TJ stuck up a note: wanted someone who can knit.
Dr Inman and surprisingly, Chloe, turned up in the infirmary half an hour later. She explained what she wanted.
"I don't know, TJ," Chloe said doubtfully. "I can knit but I can't work out a pattern."
"I can," said Inman confidently. "I used to post patterns all the time on Ravelry. We don't have a spinning wheel, though."
"But we have a whole bunch of scientists who are sitting around doing nothing," TJ said. "Let's get them to work out something."
"It's nice of you to want to give Rush a present, TJ," Chloe said, in a voice that said she didn't think he should have a present and so she wanted to know why TJ did.
"Chloe, it's not a present, the guy's freezing," TJ said, cutting her off. "He's shivering all the time; his hands are like ice. I think it's a legacy from the infection from that sabre tooth tiger, okay? It will probably get better but at the moment, he's buried underneath, like, ten quilts or something. I don't want that to get worse because whether anyone likes him or not, we need him. He can't work if he's freezing to death."
Chloe nodded thoughtfully.
"That's a great idea, TJ," Young's voice said. He was standing at the door listening. She blushed, hoping she didn't sound too partisan. Too passionate. "I hear you've been yelling at the science team, too."
"Not exactly yelling, sir," she said, lifting her chin. "I'm just trying to do what's best for my patient."
"Very dedicated," he said, his voice blander than it should have been. Shit, she thought. "Whatever gets him back to working out how we can get home."
"Yes, sir," she said emphatically. "He's no good to us dead."
Out of the corner of her eye she could see one of Eli's kinos floating in the air, recording what she said and she prayed that Rush would never see it. The only problem was that he was so pragmatic, he'd probably agree with her.
Inman said she'd work out what they needed and then inveigle some helpers. Chloe suggested that once the sweater was finished, maybe they could have a little presentation. TJ imagined the scene and Rush's face, the man who would never accept thanks or a compliment. She said, not puncturing the idea completely, "Yeah, maybe."
"Knitting needles," Inman said to Chloe. "Come on, I'll show you what I brought with me. We need to work out the weight."
"Worsted, maybe? And a dye," Chloe added. "The goat-sheep were nearly white; that's not practical around here."
"And we need his sweater size," Inman said.
Scrawny, TJ wanted to say. She said she'd check.
"Leave it with us, Lieutenant," said Inman. "I think Brody can help with the spinning wheel; he's an engineer. We should be able to salvage enough stuff from what we've gathered up around the ship and on planet to create something that could spin. I'm sure I saw some wood somewhere. A spindle at the very least or a spindle and distaff."
"What's that Indian one?" asked Chloe. "Sits on a table?"
"A charkha," said Inman. "Let's have a look at the wool."
The two women disappeared, chatting almost excitedly.
"You know, TJ," Young said coming closer. "I can see this being a bit of a morale booster."
"Whatever works, sir," she said busying herself at her desk. And then she openly lied for the first time to him. "I'm kind of over taking care of Rush and I'm pretty sure Greer could be doing other things than playing nursemaid."
"Fair enough," Young said. He stood close to her. "You should get some rest."
TJ couldn't remember whether it was the first or second time he'd said that to her that they'd ended up in bed. Then he'd scurried back to his wife, full of guilt. She made a show of looking at her watch.
"I told Greer I'd relieve him about now," she said. "Did you want to come, sir?"
Knowing that if he was invited, he'd say no.
"I think I'll do some paperwork," Young said.
TJ couldn't imagine what paperwork was necessary at end of the universe.
"Good night then, sir," she replied briskly.
She packed her bag, grabbed some water, and left knowing Young's eyes were following her. She had to be more careful. Young couldn't know that her traitorous brain imagined crawling under all those quilts with Nicholas Rush and keeping him warm. She knew people on the ship were screwing each other; there were stories about Park, in particular. Reading, my ass, thought TJ. Rush, no one ever mentioned. He did nothing but work around the clock and she couldn't imagine him taking notice of anyone let alone sleeping around. Besides, she was military and he didn't have much time for Young's people.
She was deliberately late to relieve Greer, not wanting to appear too eager. She opened the door and Greer stood to attention.
"How's he been?" she whispered.
"Just sleeping," Greer whispered back. "Making that noise every now and again."
She motioned him out of Rush's quarters and filled him in on the sweater project. His face split into a huge grin.
"Inman needs to know his sweater size so she can work out a pattern," TJ said.
"Scrawny," Greer put in immediately. She tried not to smile. "I know what fatigues he wears when we're on planet; would that help?"
"Talk to Inman," TJ suggested. "Get some sleep, too, okay?"
"Ma'am," Greer said.
He snapped her a perfect salute, a gesture of respect that she didn't deserve. She watched him saunter down the hall and went into Rush's quarters, shutting the door. She shifted the chair a little closer to the bed, easier to check on him, she told herself firmly. To watch him, her traitorous brain said. Rush's hair was over his face and she leant forward and brushed it back, her hand lingering. He stirred slightly and she jerked back. Stupid, TJ, she told herself. She couldn't lock the door in case Young or Greer came back so she sat back in the chair and determinedly picked up the murder mystery. Her eyes kept straying back to Rush but the story managed to pull her in after a while.
She eventually became aware that his breathing had changed and she looked up to find him awake and watching her sleepily. She put the book down.
"Hey there," she said.
He yawned then shuddered, a sudden spasm. TJ was up and out of her chair, crouching down by his bed. Only his head was really visible.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Suffocating," he said. "Why can't I move?" He tried to lift his head to see what was on top of him.
"Ten quilts," TJ said relieved at how normal he sounded, his voice mild with a tinge of irony laced in. "Hang on, I'll get some of them off." She shifted most of the quilts so he could move. "Okay, I need you to sit up." She turned back to get her bag. He hadn't stopped shivering. "You're still cold."
"Now that I'm not buried," he said. "How long was I asleep for?"
"About eight hours," she said. "You could do with a lot more."
His eyes strayed to the floating console and she stepped into his view, blocking it.
"Oh, no you don't," she said. "The science team can cope without you for a while."
"Really?" he asked his voice dry.
"No, not really," she said. "But if you even attempt to do any work today, I'll take it away."
He scowled and she put out a finger and rubbed his forehead without thinking. He flinched away from her touch and looked down at his hands. Personal space, she told herself.
"Arm," she said firmly. He looked up. "Sabre tooth arm, please."
"It didn't look anything like a sabre tooth," Rush objected but he held out his injured arm.
"Well, that's what we're calling it," TJ said firmly. She pushed up his sleeve. The wound was healing nicely. "That'll scar but I don't think it will be too bad if you don't go out in the sun."
God, she sounded so inane.
"I'll avoid the solarium, too, then," he said, a touch of mock solemnity in his voice. "Can I have my arm back?"
"Not yet," TJ said squashing the image of him getting an all over tan. "Pulse and blood pressure."
Both were normal; it was just the shivering. She gave him a brief examination and he was simply cold. That was it. Not in pain, just cold. Leftover infection? Long-term damage? She didn't know. He held onto the quilt to stop his hands from trembling, she thought. It didn't work.
"I think you're going to be okay as long as you don't overdo things," she said. "So, here's my plan."
"Do I get a say in this plan?" Rush asked sarcastically.
"No," she said. "Unless you want Greer attached to you permanently?"
He made a face though she suspected he didn't mind the marine's presence too much.
"Okay then," he said. "Plan?"
"I will leave the console here," she said, "but you're not to do more than two hours work at a time. Two hours on, two hours off to rest, and you're to eat on time and drink more. You're a little dehydrated, too."
"I've just been buried under a pile of quilts," he pointed out.
"But you weren't drinking much before, were you," TJ countered. He shrugged. "And you're not to work through the night. Set hours during the day, sleep and rest at night, okay?"
She picked up one of the quilts and set it around his shoulders.
"Thanks, Mum," he said mockingly.
"I feel sorry for your mom," she shot back. "I can't imagine you were the sweetest little boy ever."
Something went across his face and he said after a moment, "No."
"Brothers and sisters?" she asked, taking the opportunity, surprised at the honesty of his answer.
"No," he said.
"Father?" she asked, testing the waters even further.
"Yes," he said. He frowned into the distance.
"I have a question," she said.
"Another question, you mean," he said warily.
"You don't have to answer," TJ said. "I was just curious."
"About?" he said.
"About when was it someone realized you were a genius," she said.
He looked surprised. He opened his mouth then closed it. He didn't say anything.
"Like I said, you don't have to answer," TJ said, sensing him withdraw back into his protective casing. She was surprised she got that much out of him. She settled back in the chair and said, "Lie back down and rest."
He didn't immediately so she picked up the mystery book. He sat crosslegged under the quilts still on the bed; the one around his shoulders he held together with his shaking hands. She opened the book and then he said, "I defaced my cousin's algebra textbook."
"What?" she asked, putting the book down. "You're a vandal?"
He lifted his shoulders. "I was trying to solve the puzzles; they were just puzzles to me at that age," he said. "I scribbled all over the book. After he beat the shit out of me, he dragged me to his teacher and told her I did it. The books belonged to the school; the students borrowed them for the term."
"What happened?" TJ asked, fascinated.
"The teacher called my dad," Rush said. "She gave me a raft of tests and suggested some extra tutoring."
"Then you skipped a bunch of grades and went to special schools for geniuses," she said lightly because he was frowning heavily.
He gave a snort of amusement. "Maybe where you come from, Lieutenant," he said. "Special schools and skipping grades is what happens with rich geniuses not to a kid whose dad worked in the Glasgow shipyards and who was hard pressed to feed his family and pay all the bills each week. We weren't exactly in a slum but we were pretty much the next suburb over."
"Sounds like a hard life for your dad," she said tentatively. "Was Glasgow a pretty tough place?"
"I love Glasgow," he said unexpectedly. "It's a beautiful city."
He hadn't stopped frowning. He lay back down and she sprang forward to put a couple of the quilts back, shifting the one covering his shoulders. He shut his eyes tiredly.
"What about your cousin?" TJ asked. "What's he doing now?"
"Twenty years," Rush said, his eyes opening. "Glassed and killed two blokes in a pub brawl. Daft git."
He sounded fondly exasperated rather than appalled.
"Oh," she said. She couldn't really say sorry, so she asked, "How old were you? When you vandalized your cousin's textbook?"
"Six," he said. His eyes shut and he was asleep.
She stood looking down at him. She wondered why Rush had opened up. It was possible she supposed that he simply hadn't been asked about himself before. She sat and watched him sleep until Greer came back. She said Rush had woken up, was still very cold, and he wasn't to be allowed near the console until she said so. Try the book, she said, it's good.
She went to find Inman and Chloe to check on progress. They were with a mix of the military and science personnel. TJ paused to listen and hoped Camille Wray, black hole of negativity, wasn't there. It was scientists vs military vs Camille Wray, a little faction all her own. Ms IOA Self-Importance.
"I don't get why Rush is getting special treatment," a voice complained. "It's his fault we're here. Hell, Ms Armstrong, it's his fault the Senator's dead, isn't it? We're forced to eat those goddamned potatoes while Rush keeps the banana gloop to himself and just issues orders likes he's fucking god or something."
Ah, one of the scientists, no doubt one who'd been at the receiving end of one of Rush's forays into performance feedback.
"Yeah," said a female voice. "Why should he have something new to wear? It should be drawn out of a hat."
Chloe, to her credit, didn't respond right away to the snipe about her father.
She said pointedly, "And you've saved us all from certain doom and destruction how many times since we've been here?" There was silence. "Look, I know Dr Rush isn't the easiest person to work for, okay? But he was basically dying a couple of weeks ago and even when he was barely conscious he kept working to save us."
"Save himself, you mean," said the first voice.
"Well, I don't want to die and I figure neither do you; so what if Rush doesn't want to either?" Chloe shot back. "Stopping the ship from exploding is a good thing, isn't it? We're all alive, aren't we? And given what Lt Johansen said about his condition during that time, he got worse because he was still working basically while he was about to drop dead."
TJ had said nothing of the sort but still, it was true.
Chloe went on, "And now, when he's supposed to be recovering, he's still working. Lt Johansen said that he could still die, okay? And then where would we be? He's freezing and if a sweater helps him keep on working then he gets a sweater."
Then she tightened the screws even further. Her voice became harsh.
"And yeah, my dad might still be alive if Rush hadn't dialed the ninth chevron, okay?" she said. TJ peeked around the doorframe. Chloe was leaning forward pointing her finger at the scientist. "So, I want you to take particular note of the fact that it's me asking you to help. Got that? And I don't want to hear a single word about Rush or to Rush on this subject once this is done. Don't be so damned petty. Got that, too?"
They all seemed a bit stunned, TJ reflected. Chloe handed out assignments like she'd been in charge all her life. TJ retreated down the corridor to wait for her. Chloe came striding out annoyed and stopped when she saw TJ leaning up against the wall, hands in pockets.
"You were pretty tough in there," TJ said. "Given your dad."
Chloe looked away then back at TJ. "My dad was injured when the roof caved in at Icarus," she said. "You said he had internal bleeding."
"Yeah, he did," said TJ softly.
"And he had a bad heart," said Chloe. "If he hadn't sacrificed himself, would he really still be alive, TJ?"
"I don't know," TJ said honestly. "I think if he'd got to a hospital in time, yes, he'd have lived."
"What if we went somewhere else in the Milky Way first?" Chloe asked.
TJ remembered what Scott had told her. Greer had been the one to step out of the way, allowing the Senator into the shuttle. Scott said Greer had described the Senator as a dead man walking. Rush hadn't been there but Chloe had attacked him shortly after and TJ remembered how clumsy he sounded as he tried to apologize. He'd screwed it up, of course, but she also remembered his face when Chloe had stormed out. For someone who kept his emotions in check most of the time, he really had the most vividly expressive face.
TJ said, "I'm not a doctor, Chloe, I can't tell you."
"You gave me a job to do," Chloe said resolutely. "Rush will get a sweater to keep himself warm so we can get out of here. That's the deal, okay? Rush gets a sweater, we go home."
"Sounds like a good deal to me," TJ said.
Chloe held out her hand and TJ took it, sealing the bargain.
It was a week before Brody jury-rigged something that would spin the wool and another before Inman finished the spinning. Chloe had come up with the idea that she should do it in the mess hall and organized a betting ring for when Inman would finish. She also arranged spinning lessons. Even Eli took a turn. She held a competition to pick the color out of ones Inman had managed to create. Most people voted even those who had protested about Rush getting the sweater in the first place.
"She's good," Young murmured in TJ's ear, as they watched Chloe cajole people into voting for the color she liked—a rich chocolate-black. "Clever move to get her involved."
"Accidental, sir," TJ said.
"Goddamned asshole better be grateful," Young said before stomping out.
TJ gave an inward sigh.
She'd allowed Rush out of his room every now and again, as long as Greer accompanied him and he kept as warm as possible. There had been a meeting about the air filters that morning. Greer dragged along a quilt and wrapped Rush up in it. Rush got snappy at Greer for hovering and Young got snappy back, which meant Rush turned his vitriol onto him. Scott got huffy and Wray tried to play peacemaker, failing spectacularly as usual. Everyone else kept their mouths shut. TJ intervened when Rush suddenly bent over shaking badly, his teeth chattering.
"Sergeant," she said resignedly. "Let's go."
Greer practically carried Rush back to his quarters, none too gently dumping him on his bed. Rush crawled under the quilts and she piled others on top of him. His teeth chattered away having a conversation all on their own.
"Go get some lunch, Sergeant," she ordered.
Greer looked at her face, looked at Rush, and said, "Don't beat him up too much, Lieutenant."
"No promises," she said. She waited until Greer left and lifted the bottom of the quilts. "Shoes," she said. She took off Rush's shoes and sat on the bed, smoothing out the quilts. "Do you have to piss everyone off?"
"Do they have to piss me off?" Rush shot back.
"That would have been more effective if your teeth didn't sound like a train rattling along," she said mildly. He scowled at her, firmly pressing his lips together. She imagined running her tongue along his mouth, getting it to open. "I realize your brain's bigger than everyone else's but that's countered by you also being the biggest ass on the ship."
"Well, as long as there's a balance," Rush sniped back at her.
She couldn't help herself and giggled but she stopped as soon as Rush curled up in the bed and shut his eyes, shivering violently under the quilt. Only the top of his head was visible.
"Hey, come on," she said soothingly. "Shhhh, shhhh …"
He wasn't getting any better.
"You know, I think I might curtail the day trips for a little while," TJ said. "At least until we find your cashmere coat."
There was a ghost of a laugh from under the quilt and a muffled, "Don't forget the hat."
TJ chuckled and said, "Get some rest, okay?"
She waited until he was asleep and Greer was back and then went to find out the progress of the sweater. She walked in on Chloe spruiking her favorite color. After Young stomped out, TJ put in her vote.
"Hope that was my color," Chloe said.
"It is the best," TJ said.
Chloe lowered her voice. "Eli said Rush collapsed," she said.
"He's just doing too much," TJ said lightly. "I've taken away his going out to play privileges."
Chloe laughed and turned to everyone, calling, "Time to collate the votes."
She won by a mile, of course. Inman immediately discussed the best way to dye the yarn with Becker. In the face of Chloe's determination, no one even complained about the amount of water being used. It was, Inman pointed out, a natural dye that they'd got out of one of their plants so it could be recycled. People asked about the pattern and Inman primly said it was a secret. She and Chloe discussed gauge and needle sizes. Brody was seen to hand over a couple of small carved sticks and on being asked said he was working under orders not to say what they were. TJ asked Chloe. Confidential, she was told.
Rush didn't improve much over the following week; TJ tried not to hover even though she wanted to. Amazingly, he kept to her plan not to overwork. He slept most of the time and when she was sure Young, Scott and in particular, Eli and his damned kinos were out of the way—mostly late at night—she sat in his quarters and watched him sleep, taking turns with Greer.
She often asked Young if he would accompany her during the day to check on Rush, knowing he wouldn't. One day he wryly said, "I don't think I'd do much for his health, TJ."
She forced herself to smile and said, "I'll let you know how he's doing then, sir."
"Thanks," Young said casually.
She got to Rush's quarters but Greer wasn't outside. She was about to hit the switch when she realized there was a kino behind her and as it hovered, Greer suddenly appeared. He grabbed it and said, "Not today," booting it down the hall.
"Eli's a menace with those things," TJ observed. "It's like having spy cameras watching our every move."
"Found one inside yesterday," Greer said nodding at the door. "The doc was asleep." He lifted a metal bowl. "Lunch."
"Inman said she's worked out a couple of new flavors," TJ commented.
"Yeah, I said that to the doc," Greer said. "He said he didn't care as long as one of 'em wasn't cauliflower."
"Can't say I disagree with that," said TJ. "I'll take it in if you want to go get something yourself."
"I'll wait out here, Lieutenant, in case that damned kino comes back," Greer said. She nodded but before she opened the door, he asked, "How's he really doing?"
"I'm convinced he just needs time to get over it," TJ said. "I can't do any tests; I don't know what to look for. If he does too much he gets worse. I think maybe he's improving …"
Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, indicating how unsure she was. Greer just nodded. He opened the door, saw Rush was up and called, "Lt Johansen, Doc, and lunch."
Rush didn't look up as his fingers flew over the console but he said, "I always preferred room service to cafeterias."
Greer shut the door.
She said, "Put your toy away please, Dr Rush, and eat your lunch."
Oddly obedient, he pushed the console away and sat back, wrapping the quilt back up around him.
"You're feeling a little better today," she observed. He nodded as she handed him the bowl of gloop. He had on the desert fatigues, the jacket done up to the neck. His hands shook as he went to take the first sip. He nearly spilled it. He muttered something in another language and looked annoyed. To distract him she said, "Hey, Dr Inman worked out a new flavor. That's cauliflower."
His face screwed up immediately, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
She said, "I'm kidding, it's banana again."
Rush took a cautious sip and she said, "Can I ask what you're working on?"
He said, "Power usage for the gate."
"Is that important if we just fly into a sun every time the batteries need recharging?" she asked.
"I suppose not," Rush said. He wasn't looking at her; he was frowning in concentration at his bowl—not spilling anything.
"Why is it important to you?" TJ asked.
He waited a moment before replying.
"I think Destiny's gate is a prototype," he said. "It means the other gates the seeder ships have left are likely the same sort. I suspect these gates aren't as powerful as those in the Milky Way or Pegasus and have a limited dialing range. I also think we were only able to dial in because we were using an updated model."
"Which means what?" she wanted to know.
"Which means if we try to dial Earth again, we'll need even more power to get it to work," he said. "I don't know; I could be wrong."
"Does that mean Telford's plan wouldn't have worked simply because of the gate not being the right type?" she asked, a little stumped. "Even if there was enough power from the sun?"
"No idea," he said. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."
"Is anyone else working on it?" TJ asked tentatively.
"No," he said. "This is just in-between stopping the ship from falling apart regular work. If I get somewhere with the initial calculations I'll see if I can get Eli to take it on."
"He's really busy with his documentary," TJ said more than a little sarcastically.
Rush lifted his shoulders, seemingly uncaring about Eli and his documentary. Her eyes strayed to his right shoulder and without thinking she blurted out, "When did you get that tattoo?"
He looked astonished and said, "What?"
"You have a tattoo," she said. "A gecko."
"Oh," he said.
He seemed a little freaked that she had noticed the tattoo, even though she'd examined him previously, so she said, "When you were sick."
"Oh," he said again. "Erm, fourteen and drunk."
"You were drunk?" she asked. "At fourteen?"
"Cousin," he said. She raised an eyebrow. "Same cousin."
"Sounds like a bad influence," she said as he put down the bowl.
He looked wistful as he shook his head and she could see him mentally withdrew again so she said, "Arm."
He stuck out his sabre tooth arm and she pushed up his sleeve. His hands were freezing and she said, "Forget the hat, you need gloves." She checked his pulse and blood pressure. She didn't have to anymore but it gave her an excuse to touch him without him pulling away. "Right," she said. "Rest, please."
His eyes flickered towards the console but he lay back down and she cocooned him back in. His eyes watched her, his expression unreadable. She busied herself at her bag and pressed the door switch.
Then there was a tremor in the floor. Just the floor.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Hmmm …?" Rush asked already sleepy.
"The floor moved," she said.
He was instantly awake and tried to sit up. The cocoon prevented him and he snarled, "Will you get these bloody things off me?"
"I'm sure it's nothing …" she said.
But then the whole ship shifted. Like an earthquake. She threw the quilts off the bed and Rush got up. Too quickly, he lurched forward. She caught him, his breath huffing out. They stood together for a moment and she thought, don't move, stay like this. He pulled away.
"Radio?" he said.
"Greer will have one," TJ said.
She made sure he wasn't going to fall and opened the door. Greer was racing down the corridor towards them. Rush was shivering, holding his arms around himself. He looked frail.
"Explosion," Greer reported. "A couple of people were fixing some doors."
"Where?" Rush said. He turned back and grabbed the floating console. He clicked through some screens. "Those damned fucking morons …" He sounded furious and despairing at the same time.
"What?" TJ said.
"There's a fire," he said.
"Can we vent the atmosphere out of an airlock?" Greer asked.
"You've watched too many science fiction movies, Sergeant," Rush said. "We don't have accessible airlocks. Find out what's happening." He tapped away at the console, doing something, not bothering to explain what.
Greer spoke into the radio and reported, "Colonel Young says there's a fire."
"Knew that," said Rush.
"Some people are trapped," Greer said, still listening. "Eli's trying to get them out."
"No," Rush said flatly.
"What?" TJ demanded. All her sympathy for him fled; his voice was cold and pragmatic. "They'll die."
"The door shut automatically," Rush said. "Destiny is protecting herself."
"Open it," TJ said hotly. He shook his head. She snarled angrily, "Open it, you bastard."
"And then we all die," Rush said. He didn't look at her, concentrating on the console. "If we vent the atmosphere, say out of one of the hull breached areas, it's not going to go just from there, it's going to go from everywhere. None of us breath, we all die; if that door opens, the fire spreads, we all die. Pick one."
"You can't just leave people to burn to death," protested TJ.
His shoulders hunched as he concentrated on whatever he was doing.
He held out one shaky hand. "Radio," he demanded.
Greer handed it over. Rush kept tapping away with one hand.
"Eli, do not open the door," Rush ordered. "I can see you're trying to but you'll just make things worse."
Colonel Young's voice came over the radio. He said, "Rush, what the hell are you playing at? There are people trapped in there."
"I'm well aware of that, Colonel," Rush said. "There."
"There, what?" Young said.
"I've locked the door into this console," Rush said, "so it can't be opened somewhere else."
There was silence then Young said, "You fucking bastard."
Greer looked like he wanted to throttle Rush there and then but was holding back. Rush dumped the radio and kept tapping at the console. Young kept shouting into the radio at him.
TJ sat on the bed and held out a pleading hand. He took no notice so she put one hand over his.
"Please," she said softly, tears in her eyes.
He shifted his hand and simply said, "Shhhh …"
She sat and watched, wondering why, even now, she still wanted him. Greer paced.
Finally, Rush sat back. He let out a breath.
Eli's voice came through the radio. "Oh man," he said sounding amazed.
"What is it, Eli?" Young's voice said.
"It's the sprinkler system," said Eli. "He found the sprinkler system."
Rush pushed the console away and lay down.
"Leave it for a minute," he said sounding drained. "The door will open as soon as the fire's out."
Scott's voice said, "The door's opening."
"I better get down there," TJ said.
Rush didn't respond. He lay on the bed shaking.
Greer said, "I'll stay with him."
Bastard, she thought, hysterically furious with Rush. You bastard.
She grabbed her bag and ran.
Mild smoke inhalation. That was it. She kept a couple in the infirmary to keep an eye on them but aside from the occasional cough, everyone was fine.
Young hovered near the door.
"TJ?" he asked.
"A little smoke, no burns," she said. "Everyone's fine."
"Rush saves the day again," Young said.
His voice was neutral and she was still furious with Rush for scaring her so she just shrugged and kept cleaning up.
"I suppose I better apologize," Young said.
"He'll say it was because if the whole ship caught on fire, all of us would die," TJ said.
"He'd die," Young said.
I don't think he's that selfish, TJ wanted to say. She didn't. She just made a face that Young could interpret whichever way he chose.
"Do you think Telford's experiment would have worked, TJ?" Young asked suddenly.
"No," she replied honestly. She didn't mention what Rush thought about the limited range of Destiny's gate. "I think we'd all be dead."
Young didn't say anything right away. He just looked at her. Then he said, "You agreed with Rush."
She said, "I didn't talk about it with Rush." I wish I had, she thought miserably. She braved another opinion. "I think most of the scientists thought it was too dangerous."
"Yeah," Young said. He changed the subject. "How's that sweater coming along?"
"I haven't really checked, sir," TJ said. And she hadn't. Chloe had come by the infirmary a few days ago and said it was nearly done but she hadn't heard anything since.
"Let me know," Young said.
"Yes, sir," she said.
She didn't call Greer; she didn't go to Rush's quarters. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a kino following her every move. She saw Eli wander in and said, "Eli, will you get that kino out of here, please? People don't need to be filmed all the time, okay?"
He looked up at the kino as if he didn't realize it was there. He pulled a remote out of his pocket and sent it away.
"Did you want something, Eli?" she asked him. "You're hovering."
"I went to see Rush but Greer wouldn't let me in," he said. He sounded rather upset. "I didn't even think of a sprinkler system."
This was where she was supposed to be sympathetic but instead she said astringently, "Well, you should have."
"TJ," he protested.
"No, Eli," TJ said, putting out a hand to forestall any other whining. "You need to step up."
"I am," he said.
"No, you spend half your day fooling around with those damned kinos and the other half you're following Chloe around like a little puppy," she said. "Rush is sick, Eli, he can't do everything even when he isn't."
He looked mutinous. The stereotypical 'Me Generation' type, she thought with derision. No responsibility.
"I'm not your personal confessor, Eli," she said firmly. "Go away. Do something useful."
"Like?" he asked.
"Who's doing damage assessment of the burnt section of the ship?" she asked. "Go bother them."
"Brody, I think," he said.
"Then go ask Brody if you can help him," said TJ wanting to strangle him. "I'm busy."
"Will you be seeing Rush later?" He sounded so pathetic.
"I'll have to check to see that his latest ship saving exercise hasn't caused another relapse, yes," TJ said more harshly than she actually meant.
"Uh, tell him I'm sorry," asked Eli.
"For what?" asked TJ. "About trying to open the door?"
"Yeah …" said Eli.
"Eli, everyone wanted him to open the door," TJ said slightly more patiently. "You heard Colonel Young on the radio." Eli winced and nodded. "I was with Sgt Greer in Rush's quarters; we wanted him to open the door."
"Yeah, but I should have known better," Eli said. "I'm supposed to be the one who thinks out of the box."
"Oh, for pity's sake, come on," said TJ, giving up. If Eli was so determined to grovel, he could do it to Rush. She had enough problems of her own trying to think of a way to apologize to him. She took Eli by the arm.
"Uh, Greer …" he squeaked.
"I overrule Greer," TJ said.
They arrived at Rush's quarters, Greer outside. He said laconically, "I just got rid of him, Lieutenant."
"I know, but he's determined to apologize," said TJ.
"I'm not really," said Eli, seemingly changing his mind.
"Yes, you are," said TJ nastily. "Is he awake?"
"Yeah, waiting on Brody to report in about the damage," said Greer. "He got pissed when I wouldn't let him go down there." He opened the door. "Doc, Lt Johansen and Eli."
Rush was sitting on his bed, a quilt around him. His glasses had slipped down his nose and he looked over the top of them, raising an eyebrow at TJ pulling Eli into his room. He held the murder mystery in his hand, the console floating next to him.
He tossed the book to one side and said, "It was the greengrocer."
TJ said, "How much have you read?"
"First couple of pages," Rush said. "Eli?"
"Eli has something to say," TJ said brightly.
"Um, I just wanted … you know, to say … about," stammered Eli. He stuck his hands deep in his pockets. "About …"
Rush gave TJ a positively filthy look and said, "Go away, Eli."
"Right, yes," Eli said. "Going."
He fled. Greer folded his arms, ducking his head, laughing.
"Door, please, Sergeant," said TJ.
"Sure thing, Lieutenant," said Greer still chuckling. He shut the door leaving them alone.
TJ stood, her lips pursed, her hands held together.
"Lieutenant," Rush began.
"Sorry," she said interrupting him.
Rush said, "He'll have forgotten about it by tomorrow."
"Not Eli. I mean, for me calling you a bastard," she confessed. "For thinking you were just going to leave those people trapped."
Rush's face settled into the familiar lines of closed and cold.
"It's not important," he said dismissing her, as she knew he would.
"Why isn't it?" she asked.
"Because no one died," he said. "It doesn't matter how we got there."
"The end justifies the means?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"The greater good," she said, repeating what he'd told her previously.
"Yes," he said.
"Even if you're vilified in the process," she said.
He gave a shrug of indifference. She stared at him, remembering.
"A lot of people on this ship already want to kill you."
"I don't care."
Both of them looked to the door as they heard Greer swear loudly. TJ went to the door and opened it.
"Greer?" she asked.
"I am going to shoot that thing," Greer growled.
A kino was hovering in the hall. At Greer pulling out his sidearm, it fled.
"Bentham," Rush said from the bed.
"What?" Greer and TJ said together.
"Does it have a dent?" asked Rush, his face more relaxed now the spotlight wasn't on him.
"Yeah," said Greer.
"You gave the kino a name?" TJ asked, a little stumped. He didn't seem the sort to give someone—something—a nickname.
"I see that one a lot," Rush said. Mockingly, snidely, with something else behind it. "My own personal panopticon."
"Your what?" Greer asked.
"Jeremy Bentham," said Rush. "Eighteenth century social reformer. Advocated a prison that he called a panopticon, the design of which allowed every prisoner to be watched without the prisoners being aware of it. This was without surveillance cameras, of course, just the design. Brilliant, really."
"You agree with that?" TJ asked revolted.
"The idea is brilliant," he corrected her. "An idea can be brilliant without needing to be approved."
"You are seriously weird, Doc," said Greer.
Rush shrugged, a semi-shrug, the other half was the shudder back again. Just when she thought he was getting better.
"I think after today's excitement, you should take the rest of the week off," said TJ, trying to be casual.
Greer looked between them and without saying anything else, stepped out of the room and shut the door.
"I need to know what damage there is," Rush said. The shivering was slowly becoming more obvious. "Brody …"
"Brody's doing an assessment and I think it's about time you trusted your science team to do their jobs," TJ said firmly.
"Yes, but they're not exactly my science team, are they," he said. "I have to ask permission for them to change a light bulb."
There it was, a tinge of bitterness that he didn't show when he was accused of leaving people to die and manipulating them to his own ends. It amazed her that he didn't care what people thought of him personally, only that he was annoyed he had to go through Young to get anything done. She didn't know what to say. If she denied that they weren't really his team, he'd just close up again and if she agreed with him, he'd think she was lying to appease him, so she said nothing. He pulled the quilt around himself and looked irritated. He muttered something under his breath.
She didn't know what it was but she said, "I'm going to be really pissed if you don't get better."
His head had bowed but he looked up, the bangs falling in his face. She folded her arms to stop herself from brushing back his hair. He didn't say anything. He just watched her with those unfathomable eyes.
"Tell me more about Bentham," she said. She sat in the armchair.
"He's in a cupboard," he said. A faint smile played around his mouth. The dimples appeared.
"Sorry, are we talking about the kino or your panopticon guy?" she asked cautiously.
"The panopticon guy," he said. The smile was amused and genuine and she felt herself leaning forward to him. His teeth were crooked, no braces as a child. "He left his body to science for an autopsy and then he was put in an 'auto-icon', basically a display cupboard at University College London. Straw man body and now a wax head. His real head used to be in there, too, but the students kept stealing it. He got taken out to the 100th and 150th anniversaries of the university board meetings and was cited in the minutes as 'present but not voting'."
"Was this at your college?" she asked highly amused by the story.
He shook his head and said, "You don't approve of the panopticon."
"Being spied on all the time?" she said. "God, no."
"Earth is covered in surveillance," he said. "In London, you can barely go anywhere without being recorded by a CCTV camera. The argument is that if you do nothing illegal, you have nothing to hide."
"It's still wrong," TJ insisted.
There was that something else again. As if he was assessing her reaction. She shifted uneasily and said, getting up, "I have to check on my patients."
"How are they?" he asked quietly.
"A little smoke inhalation," she said. "Nothing to worry about."
"Good," he said. She didn't move. "You were just leaving."
"You're not going to do any work," she said. "Lie down."
"Awww, Muuuum," he drawled sneeringly, the acerbic tone back in his voice. Mocking her.
"Shut up," she said irritably. "You really are a complete asshole, Dr Rush."
He lay down and she dumped a pile of quilts on top of him.
"This isn't news," he said softly.
The hair was still over his face and she brushed it back. This time he didn't pull away; there was no flinch. She could feel his eyes on her as she left. She felt like she'd just been tested and she didn't know if she'd passed. Sometimes TJ thought she was beginning to understand him but most of the time she was just floundering.
Chloe and Inman were waiting for her in the infirmary.
"How is everyone?" Chloe wanted to know, her voice hushed.
"Fine," TJ said. "A little smoke inhalation."
"Was a lot of water used up?" Chloe asked. "I know that sounds awful."
"I don't think the sprinklers use water," TJ said. "No one was wet."
Inman said casually, "Everyone heard Colonel Young on the radio."
Heard him screaming at Rush.
"Right," TJ said, not wanting to go there. "Uh, you wanted to see me?"
"Oh yeah," said Chloe. She leaned in conspiratorially. She whispered, "We've finished."
"Oh," TJ said, her voice lowering automatically. "Where?"
Inman jerked her head. She followed them out. Inman's quarters were bigger than Rush's but TJ thought that most of them probably were. He either didn't know he was living in a closet or he didn't care. The latter, most likely. TJ admitted unwillingly that she was becoming obsessed. Not becoming: already there.
They'd found a box and even tissue paper. Inman carefully unwrapped it and laid the sweater on the bed.
It was perfect.
The color had come out brilliantly; it was the same as his eyes. It was plain except for the single complex cable running down the centre of the back and front and on the arms. It had a turtleneck. It was the most beautiful thing TJ had ever seen.
"Lieutenant?" Inman prompted her when TJ didn't say anything.
"TJ?" asked Chloe.
She looked up and said, "It's wonderful."
Both women grinned.
"You like it?" Chloe asked. "Really?"
"It's gorgeous, Chloe," TJ said, pulling her into a hug. She held out her arms for Inman. "It's so great. I mean, god, you even have a gift box."
"That was harder than the sweater," said Inman. "Chloe did all the negotiation."
"When can we do the presentation?" asked Chloe.
TJ's smile slipped and Chloe said worriedly, "TJ? Rush is okay, isn't he?"
"Well, today's little excitement didn't help," TJ said. "But Chloe, honestly, I know people want to see his reaction but I think he'd hate it. The attention, I mean."
Chloe chewed a finger. "He is pretty anti-social," she conceded. "You know, everyone's formed their own little social groups and everything. Rush just works."
He'd need to work less if everyone else pulled their weight, TJ said silently. He'd probably be a hell of a lot healthier. She pictured him, his body shivering so badly that he could barely control his fingers tapping at the console as he looked for the controls to switch on the sprinkler system, Young's voice screaming at him over the radio.
"Yeah," TJ echoed. "That's what he does."
"Oh, I forgot," Inman said. She pulled something else out from the box. "There was a little wool left over." She held out fingerless gloves. "You mentioned his hands were cold."
All TJ could do was nod. Chloe watched her and said diplomatically, "You know, TJ, you've been taking care of him. I think maybe you should just give them to him."
"Sure," TJ said recovering a little.
"I'll just say that he's too sick to come out of his quarters for now," Chloe said. "Will that do?"
TJ wondered if Chloe thought she was more invested in her patient than she ought to be so she said, "Hope this makes him improve; I'm getting a little tired of it."
"Yeah, I imagine so," Chloe said. Was her voice disbelieving?
Inman was packing up the sweater carefully. She said, "We didn't have a bow but Dr Rush doesn't seem the bow type."
"No," TJ said. "He's asleep now, so I'll give it to him later."
"We showed everyone already," Chloe said. "So, it's not like they haven't seen it. Colonel Young was very complimentary. We were just waiting for you."
"Thanks Chloe," TJ said, wondering what Young really thought. "Thank you so much, Dr Inman. I really hope it helps."
"Dr Rush gets a sweater, we go home," said Chloe.
"I'll tell him that, too," TJ said.
She carried the box back to the infirmary and waited until it was late. She released all her patients to their quarters and said to call her if they felt unwell. She took her time cleaning up. No one else came in; the ship was quiet. Making sure there was no kino in sight, let alone Rush's Bentham, she picked up the box and made her way to his quarters. Greer wasn't outside. She looked around. No kino. TJ opened the door. Greer was in the armchair reading the murder mystery. Rush was asleep.
"Hey," she said softly. She put the box at the end of the bed.
"It's pretty cool, huh," Greer said nodding at the box. "Ms Armstrong showed me earlier but she said it was a surprise for you."
"Yeah, it's great," TJ said. "Thought I'd come relieve you for a while."
Greer glanced at Rush and said, "I'll go get dinner. Missed out earlier."
"Oh yeah, I was …" TJ began.
"Busy day, Lieutenant," Greer said. He held up the murder mystery before putting it down. "There's no way it was the grocer."
It was but she didn't say so. Greer left but not without giving Rush then TJ another glance.
She settled back in the armchair and watched Rush sleep. She glanced around his spartan room. His iPod was on the bedside table. She leaned over to pick it up. She pressed play, holding the earphones up so she could listen. A solo violin. It was beautiful. Bit of a classical music fan, TJ thought. She pressed forward. An opera. More haunting violin music. Another opera. Some sort of choral work. She skipped back to the one that he'd paused on and put the iPod down.
She settled back in the chair and watched him sleep, as ever, still shivering. She blinked herself awake much later, sitting up in the chair.
"Hello," Rush said. He was still buried but he sounded completely awake.
"Oh, I fell asleep," she said.
"Some nurse you are," he said snidely. "What if I had a heart attack or something?"
"I can only wish," TJ snarked at him.
He gave her a sudden smile and shifted, trying to get up from under the weight of the quilts. She moved some off him and as he sat up he saw the box. He frowned.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Sit up properly," TJ instructed. His damned hair was all over his face again. She sat on the bed, holding the box. He pulled himself up, his face curious, pulling the quilt around his shoulders.
TJ put the box in his lap. Rush didn't move to open it. He just looked at her.
"Well, open it," she said.
"It's not my birthday and it's not Christmas," he said. "What is it?"
"One cashmere coat as requested," TJ said. "Go on, open it."
He snorted and opened the box. He unwrapped the tissue paper and lifted the sweater. He stared at it as it lay on top of the box.
"Whose is it?" he asked. He looked uneasy.
"It's yours," TJ said.
"No, I meant, who did you get it from," he said, a note of harshness in his voice. He held it out to her. "You should give this back to whoever it belongs to."
TJ gently pushed his hands back.
"It belongs to you," she said gently. "When the sabre tooth attacked and you pushed Greer out of the way …"
"I was just in the way," he said. Immediate denial.
"Okay, have it your way," she said amenably, "though that's not how I remember it and Greer doesn't remember it that way either."
He looked away.
"And then we went to catch the woolly goat-sheep animals," she said.
Rush looked up at this and then down at the sweater.
"Becker kept the skins," TJ said. "There wasn't quite enough for a coat but we managed a sweater and some gloves. Sorry, no hat."
He looked down in the box and picked up the gloves. His eyes were downcast and she was reminded of another conversation with him.
"How do you feel?"
"Embarrassed."
"Don't be."
"Oh, you weren't there."
She had been right about his reaction; he was hideously self-conscious. She took the gloves and held his icy hands as she put them on.
"I don't understand," he said. It was the first time she heard him sound troubled. "Who is we?"
"Well, me," TJ admitted. "It was my idea. Um, Becker sheared the wool; Brody built some sort of spinning wheel with the other people in your science team. Inman spun the wool and worked out the pattern and then she and Chloe knitted everything."
"Chloe," he repeated.
"Yeah, she was great," TJ said. "We had a vote to pick the color. Hers won, of course. Everyone got involved. Inman gave spinning lessons."
He just stared down at the sweater. He said, again holding it out to her, "This should be, I don't know, raffled or something."
"I made a deal on your behalf," TJ said. "I should have consulted you but you were asleep."
"What deal?" he said. He was very uncomfortable.
"You get something to keep you warm while you're recovering," she said. "So you can keep working."
"I'm working anyway," he pointed out. "I don't need to be bribed to work."
"No," she said. "You have to be forced not to." He jerked his head slightly, not looking at her. "You get something to keep working; we get to go home."
"Lieutenant," he started. "Honestly, I can't tell you …"
She put her fingers on his mouth to stop him from speaking.
"This isn't the time to tell me the truth," TJ said lightly. "That's the deal, okay. You just work to get us home."
He said quietly, "Why do you think I'm not trying?"
"I know you're trying," she said. She thought it might be the first time anyone had said that to him. "Deal?"
He nodded silently.
TJ pulled away the quilt on his shoulders; he had on his long-sleeved t-shirt. She said, "Come on." He didn't move. "Men are completely useless," she scolded him. "Here." She pulled the sweater over his head and said, "Sabre tooth arm." He lifted his left arm. "Right arm." He lifted his right arm. She pulled the sweater into place, brushed his hair back, and fixed the turtleneck and the sleeves over the gloves. "There."
Color stained his cheeks. "Thank you," he said awkwardly.
"I've just been doing my job," TJ said immediately. "Welfare of a patient."
"Right," he said softly.
"I just applied some logic," TJ said.
"Did you?" he said. "Well done."
"Not that you're indispensable or anything," she said.
"No," he agreed.
"But your skills are useful," she said. "Like saving the ship from blowing up and catching on fire, being able to breath; that sort of thing is useful, I think." He looked at her a glimmer of amusement entering his eyes as she explained her reasoning. "And it's to everyone on board's benefit if you're fit and healthy."
"I suppose so," Rush said.
Her voice was determinedly cheerful, "So, I just took your advice."
"Which was?" he asked.
"Always think of the greater good," she said. "That's it."
"That's it," he repeated.
She took the box out of his lap and put it on the floor. Amazed at her own temerity she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened and he flinched away from her. TJ patted his arm.
"That's it," she said.
FINIS
Notes:
My thanks to LadyPredator whose lovely story 'Fever' inspired this story. As a knitter myself, I couldn't go past the woolly goat-sheep. Plus a hurt Rush, a recovering Rush, can't go past that either.
This can also be taken as something of a prequel to LadyPredator's in-progress story 'Living' given they both have Rush/Johansen and the spying kinos.