Carson waited two days for Sheppard to regain some strength before confronting him. In that time, he used precious resources to run a few blood tests and determine that the colonel would be fine once he recovered from surgery. Still, he couldn't help but feel like John had dodged a bullet. Or dagger, as this case would be. After the surgery and that interminable twenty-four hours following it, Carson sat down with Ronon and got the full story on what had been happening with Sheppard. The colonel still hadn't told everyone what really took place when he was attacked, but the pattern was clear. John Sheppard's rebound had become a political nightmare. Major Lorne had already cleaned up two messes, and Carson realized that the stress of it all must be what caused the poor man's headaches.

In those two days, Elizabeth settled into a small house near Shani's. She hated being away from Javan and the home she'd grown to love, but Carson refused to complain. He'd missed having her around for morning tea, like they'd shared back on Atlantis. Her time was spent with Lorne, coordinating the crops being grown on Sateda and putting some ground rules in place for dealing with the ever-growing number of refugees coming through the Stargate. Her organizational abilities were much appreciated, and most everyone greeted her with smiles whenever they saw her coming. Carson himself had counseled with her, mostly about Sheppard and how to deal with this situation. Now, it was time to talk to the man himself.

Carson found Sheppard sitting up, his feet hanging over the side of the bed. "What's this, now?"

John turned as if in trouble. "I'm tired of this bed."

"Aye, I'm sure you are." Carson moved to his side and helped him shuffle across the room to a chair that looked out the window. With their medical supplies so severely limited, Carson had been forced to pull Sheppard off of all pain medications once he'd fully awakened. The colonel took to drinking copious amounts of Shani's tea, and that seemed to keep the pain to a more tolerable range.

"Any idea when I'll get out of here?" John asked, his voice strained as he settled into the chair.

"That depends, Colonel." Carson's voice dropped as he leaned against the wall.

"On what?"

"On what you intend to do." Carson met the man's sharp glance, not missing the shrewd narrowing of the eyes that indicated John knew exactly what he meant.

"Why do you say that?"

Carson shook his head. "Colonel, out of everyone here, I am the last to judge. That said, I'm concerned about ye. From what Ronon tells me, this pattern of behavior has gone on since we left Ataliya, an' I'm worried about any nasty buggers you might pick up." He shrugged. "Among other things," he added quietly.

"Nasty buggers?" John frowned.

"Aye." Carson met his eyes. "Not all of these worlds you visit have the same medical care we had on Earth. Colonel—John—you could bring home somethin' that I'm not able to treat just from bein' with one o' these women for one night."

"You think I might have an STD?"

"You don't." Carson forced himself not to look away. "But the odds are against ye if you keep up this pattern."

"What pattern?" Sheppard leaned forward. "What have Ronon and McKay been telling you?"

"Only wha' happened with Calixte."

"They weren't there!"

"No, they weren't." Carson folded his arms. "An', if they were, maybe you wouldnae ha'e come home with a knife keepin' ye from bleedin' out!"

John let out that unamused laugh he always let out when he thought someone was making unreasonable demands of him. "All I did was spend some time with her." He smirked. "It was good while it lasted, but I never gave her any indication that it was more than that. She, uh. . . ." He motioned to his still-bandaged side. "She took exception."

"When you told her that you didn't care about her, just the sex?" Carson shook his head. "Out of all the people here, I thought you'd be the least trustin' of us. When did all this start?"

John just stared at him.

"I know you don't want to admit to a problem, an' I understand." Carson leaned against the hospital bed and rubbed his face. "But I'm worried about ye. This isn't you."

For a long moment, John continued to stare at him. Then, something gave in his expression. "It started with Mara."

"Mara?"

"Yeah. The Tower? The place they wanted to make me king?"

"I remember." Carson held up a hand. "You've been. . . ."

"Sleeping around?" John filled in the blank.

"That's not what I said."

"But that's what everyone thinks I'm doing."

"For good reason!" Carson straightened. "Look at you, son! You're here because of that!"

"You have no idea what I went through on Kiah!" John went from compliant to angry in the space of a second, something that Carson knew was normal for his state of mind. "You don't know what it's like to have a woman do that with no regard to you or what it does to your friends!"

"Aye, you're right." Carson straightened, seeing that merely talking wasn't going to get through to him. He hated to do this, but he refused to let Sheppard put himself at risk any longer. "Colonel, you're restricted to planet for at least a week. In that time, I'll keep an eye on your physical and mental health. If I see cause, I will restrict you even longer. Until I'm satisfied you're not puttin' yourself or these people at risk with this behavior."

John glared, but the military had trained him well. To Sheppard, the orders of a doctor were law. At least, here they were. Carson folded his arms and glared back, knowing John would eventually back down. Enforcing those restrictions would be tough, and it would require an extra dose of patience since Teyla would also be around to cause problems. But Carson knew it would be worth it in the long run.

John finally nodded. "Fine!" He turned to glare out the window, leaving Carson to let himself out when he so chose. The doctor went his way, rubbing the back of his neck as he blew out a deep breath. The tension there had built over the last few days, and he rolled his head around. He needed a day to rest but couldn't take it. Not yet. Not until he'd spoken with Ronon about his decision regarding Colonel Sheppard.

As he dropped into his chair, he rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not worryin' about Major Lorne anymore," he muttered. Then, a smile touched his features. Out of everyone, Lorne was the glue that had held this community together. Now that the major was aware of Shani's culture, Carson knew that he could trust Lorne with her. For short periods of time. The overprotectiveness of an older brother warred with the weariness of a man. Carson dropped his head on his desk and closed his eyes as he tried to not think about everything waiting to be done. He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until Shani woke him with a cool hand on his shoulder and a hot cup of tea on the desk.

oOo

Evan appeared at the clinic just after Carson returned from a quick bath and shave. Shani greeted him with a smile while listening to Carson giving Sheppard quiet instructions in the other room. She had come to the clinic that afternoon to find Sheppard glaring out the window and Carson soundly sleeping on his desk. Now, as he appeared, he still looked tired but better after getting rid of the scruff that had grown in the last few days.

"Och, Major!" Carson grinned. "Can I help ye?"

"Ah. . .we had dinner plans," Evan said, motioning between himself and Shani.

Carson's smile turned cheeky, as he would say. "Aye, I know." He met Shani's eyes. "Have a wonderful evening, my dear. I'll see you tomorrow."

Shani couldn't stop the protest. "Carson. . . ."

"No." He moved to her side and touched her shoulder. "Go enjoy dinner with the major. Elizabeth is stoppin' by in a few moments, an' we'll visit for the evenin'."

Shani smiled and, with a slight blush, let Evan lead her out of the clinic. As soon as the door closed behind them, she frowned at Evan. "What was that?"

Evan had the good sense to look a bit embarrassed. "Ah. . .I sort of asked him if we could. . .uh. . .date." He looked so adorable with his hands behind his back, eyes staring right into hers, and that chagrined expression on his face that she laughed.

"I see," she said as she looped an arm through his. "Then, shall we share dinner?"

Evan gave her a startled glance for a moment but recovered well. "You're not upset?"

"Why should I be?" She glanced at him as he led her toward the hangar. "On Ataliya, it is customary for a man wishing to either court or marry a woman to ask her eldest male relative. Courtship is not common, though we tend to know our husbands for years before we are married. Usually through friendship with the family."

"But you do. . .uh. . .court?"

"Yes." She grinned wickedly. "Though we did not call it that until Elizabeth came to our world."

"What did you call it?"

"Betrothal. What you would call being engaged." Her answer was met with the expected panicked expression, and she quickly put her free hand on his arm. "Evan, I am well aware that we do not have that sort of relationship, yet. Though I have hopes."

He turned to stare into her eyes, his face changing from panic to something a bit unreadable but very appealing. "Yeah, me, too."

Shani allowed him to pick the topic of conversation, not asking any questions as he ushered her into the Jumper and took the pilot's chair. For the first time since coming to Sateda, she had the urge to fly the ship but kept quiet since Evan knew where they were headed. The sun had begun to set, but the glorious colors had not yet been put on display. They landed before that, next to a babbling stream, and Evan picked up a large basket as they left the Jumper.

"On Earth, it's called a picnic." He shrugged a bit sheepishly. "It's considered romantic."

Shani grinned at the shy expression on his face. Evan was so often in charge that seeing this slightly uncertain side of him surprised her. She waited while he spread a blanket on the ground and began pulling items from the basket. He kept talking as he did so. "With Elizabeth here, we've managed to trade for various supplies that we haven't had yet." He held up a covered pot. "I. . .um. . .made a few traditional American dishes. Figured it would be nice."

Shani settled next to him on the blanket, watching as he served their meal. The first concoction was tubers with several green vegetables in it, combined with a thick white sauce. It wasn't overly salty, but the tastes blended well. He called it "potato salad." He had also made small patties of meat that he quickly heated over a fire, saying they were as close to burgers as he could find. Sticking them between thick slices of bread, he explained that American's typically bar-be-que'd or "cooked out" during the summer.

"You miss your home." She spoke after they ate. She had enjoyed the meal, quite liking the flavors of the food even if it wasn't exactly what he remembered.

"Yeah, I do." Evan leaned onto his elbow, his eyes going to the sunset as he spoke. "There are some things that, no matter where they're at in the universe, they're just not the same as when you're at home."

"I agree." She thought of the warm nights on Ataliya. "When I could not sleep, I would often wander into the garden in Javan's home. Seeing the stars was calming, but it was the flowers that bloomed at night that helped me rest. They give off a strong, sweet scent that is both calming and exotic. I cannot describe it."

"Maybe you could grow it here?"

"It is too cold here." She smiled at the offer. "That is something else I miss from home. The warmth. Though the seasons are changing."

He shifted to face her. "Tell me about Ataliya."

"What about it?"

"Whatever you would like to share."

Shani turned to watch the sunset, thinking about all the things of her home that she missed. She desperately longed to return there some days, thinking that she had spoken out of turn when she asked to join Carson. But the need of these people and the friendships she'd developed with others—not to mention the hope of what she might share with Evan—had kept her here until it began to feel a bit like home. "On Ataliya, we have sandstorms. Many times, they roll in from the open desert, turning the sky orange. When the sun sets behind them, the brilliance will take your breath away. . . ."

They stayed on that blanket for another two hours and simply talked.

oOo

True to his word, Carson did not allow Sheppard to travel through the gate for another two weeks. In that time, John did everything in his power to prove that he was of sound mind and body. His wound healed quickly, a quirk he'd always enjoyed, and Carson finally released him to light activity when scar tissue began to form. The doc was very thorough as he outlined what was and wasn't "light activity," and John ironically mused that going off world fell into that category.

Those two weeks of confinement on Sateda gave Sheppard some time to see what Lorne had been coping with during his recent adventures. The rebuilding was going well, but many buildings still waited to be cleared and gutted. Restoring this city to its former glory was something that would take years to accomplish, and the task often seemed daunting. Fortunately, Sheppard had people like Elizabeth around to keep him motivated. She spent a great deal of time with Teyla, talking to the Athosian and helping Teyla deal with the residual feelings of betrayal and rejection from Kalle. John felt a sharp stab of regret that he hadn't thought to consider Teyla's feelings but pushed that aside as he realized she'd been coping well. Because of Teyla, Sateda enjoyed healthy trade with several worlds who wanted nothing in return save the promise of reinforcements should the Wraith appear.

Stepping through the gate for the first time since his stabbing was refreshing. John slipped his aviators onto his face and glanced around the area. The Stargate sat smack-dab in the middle of the village, and their arrival had already drawn a crowd. A stately older woman pushed her way through the people and gave a dramatic bow as she welcomed them to her world. Teyla took over, as Sateda's official negotiator, thanking the woman for her greeting.

That evening, Sheppard sat in the tavern and finished eating a bowl of less-than-impressive stew. He liked stew well enough, but days of eating it on Sateda had soured his taste for the dish. He had already heard rumors that Lorne figured out how to make burgers, and he wondered if the major would share the recipe. The rest of John's team had already left, in keeping with the routine that had developed in recent weeks. Ronon was around, he knew. The Satedan was never far away since Carson's little ultimatum.

A woman nearing John's age sidled up to his table several times, and he finally looked her in the eye. She was attractive in a mature, seen-too-much sort of way. "You are not from here."

"No." John set aside his spoon and figured speaking with her couldn't hurt. She wasn't his type.

"Then you have traveled a fair distance." The woman motioned over her shoulder, and a much younger woman appeared. This new woman wore a dress of fine fabric, her entire body swathed in what looked like silk. The dress, however, was snug enough that it left very little to John's imagination. Her strawberry blond hair was straight, and it fell over her shoulders in a way that drew his attention from her face to other portions of her body. The older woman smiled. "Perhaps Achelle could help with your. . .weariness."

John eyed Achelle. "Why?"

The older woman shrugged. "Call it a service for a visiting dignitary." She sauntered away, leaving Achelle to smile coquettishly at Sheppard.

He looked around a bit awkwardly. "Uh. . . ."

Achelle's smile widened. "You are uncomfortable?" She reached out and covered his hand with her own. "Perhaps I could help. I have been trained in many techniques that help men such as yourself relax." As she spoke, she began massaging his hand ever so slightly.

For just a moment, John allowed his mind to wander to what those hands could do for him. He turned in his chair, his signature smirk already in place, when the movement pulled at his wound. The pain he'd ignored for most of the day flared, and he blinked. Achelle frowned when he let out a sharp breath, but John just waved her off. "Sorry."

"Are you injured?"

"Yeah." John straightened in his chair, an attempt to take some pressure off the wound. "You know, I think I'm just gonna head back to where the rest of my team's staying. Not that I'm not impressed with the offer," he added when Achelle's face fell. "But, I'm just really tired, and. . . ."

"I understand." She stood, her smile still in place. "I will be here for a while."

John nodded and left the tavern after settling up with the barkeep. He held his hand protectively over his side as he walked, not wanting to admit what had just happened. When his wound pulled, he immediately had a quick mental picture of Achelle slipping a knife through his other set of ribs. One scar was enough, thank you! Still, as he settled in for the night, he stared at the ceiling and wondered if there was another way to get rid of this restlessness. He could hear Carson's voice in his head, reminding him of "nasty buggers" as well as the inevitable bad reaction should any other woman take issue with him.

The next morning, John was completely surprised to find that Achelle was also offered to Ronon the previous evening before she appeared in the tavern. Being second choice wasn't a fun feeling, but Sheppard returned to Sateda feeling almost as if he'd conquered one of his demons just this once.

oOo

With Ronon off world on another trading mission, Olina looked for ways to stay busy. She had been recognized as an expert baker and taught women unaccustomed to such "primitive" conditions how to prepare breads, cakes, pastries, and other delicacies. Supplies were an issue, however, and she knew she couldn't continue doing so. Ronon was happy with the weight she'd put on since her visit to Kiah, and she also knew that it was an improvement. She could still recall her father's face, and she hoped that she wouldn't need to go through such a heart-wrenching breakdown next time she wanted to remember.

But, for now, she wandered the streets around midafternoon. She had just finished a new dress for herself, one made of light blue fabric and looking very similar to the gown destroyed in the attack on Kiah. She couldn't wait for Ronon to see it and wanted to find a way to burn off energy and keep herself occupied. Seeing a group of people clearing a building, she headed that way and offered to help. Her assistance was accepted with little fuss as there were other women also working.

For the next hour, Olina managed to put blisters on her hands from work she wasn't accustomed to doing, but she'd never felt better. The sun was beginning to set, but progress had been made in clearing the rubble from a tall building close to the Stargate. Several men had gone into the building to assess its structural integrity while Orsic, the Satedan who had accepted her help, waited outside. He also worked, keeping an eye on the setting sun and the condition of his workers. Olina had seen him to be fair, and he'd pulled one of Kiah's Marines out of the rubble when she appeared to have exhausted herself.

A deep groan froze everyone in their tracks. Two of the men who had been sent into the building rushed out, shouting for everyone to get back. Olina froze for a moment, unsure of what was happening. Men and women began running around her, and she heard Orsic shout her name. But she was unable to move for a few seconds. Orsic ran forward and grabbed her hand, yanking her out of the way as the first large chunk of rubble hit the ground. The stone shattered on impact, sending shards flying and cutting everyone in its path.

Orsic dragged Olina away from the building, and she did her best to keep her feet under her. More shouts, a few screams, and several other deafening groans from the building broke the silence. People came rushing from all parts of Sateda, but Olina froze in her tracks. The top of the building swayed, and, in one terrifying moment, it collapsed from the inside. The last thing Olina remembered was Orsic wrapping his arms around her and turning her away from the destruction before a chunk of rock smacked her in the head.

~TBC