Young, the crew came to realize over the span of one day, was a jealous and protective mother.

Greer found this out when he found Nick waiting outside Young's quarters for the colonel to fetch some paperwork. Always one to mess with Rush, Greer scooped the boy up and perched him on his shoulder, running down the hall.

Nick was screaming with laughter, Greer's hand resting on his legs to make sure he didn't fall. The sergeant turned, dipped, and sprang back up again, sprinting back the way they came.

They were in the process of doing this for a third time when the door to the colonel's quarters slid open with a hiss.

"Sergeant!" he barked. Greer screeched to a stop, nearly vaulting Nick off his shoulders.

"Yes, sir?" he said.

"Put. Him. Down."

Very carefully, Greer lowered Nick to the floor. The boy Charley-horsed him and ran over to Young, hiding behind him with a huge smile on his face.

"What?" said Greer, noticing Young's thunderous expression. "We're having fun!"

"He could have fallen. He could have bumped his head."

"Um –"

"Go."

Colonel Young's arm swung out in a wide gesture, pointing down the hallway. Greer's eyes widened.

"Sir?"

"Go."

It was like a walk of shame.

Chloe found out during a game of tag. Her eyes were, of course, on the impossibly fast little imp racing ahead of her in the halls. She ran into someone once, nearly knocking them over, and kept running.

Nick led her in a circle. On the return, she ran into the blurry someone once more, and this time, they stopped her from getting away.

"Chloe," said a growly, familiar voice. She turned to look at Colonel Young.

"Oh," she said. "Hi."

"What are you doing?"

She gestured down the halls. "Playing tag."

"With Nick?"

"Who else?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you realize," he said slowly, stepping a little closer, "how full of sharp edges this ship is?"

She stared at him.

"How many corridors here are dangerous? How many different rooms he could open just to be sucked out into space?"

His voice was steadily rising, and Chloe could see a fearful-looking Nick poking his head around the corner to watch them, so she decided to cut in.

"It's safe, Colonel," she assured him. "We warned him about the closed-off sections. He promised not to open any doors."

"Like that would really stop Rush – because he promised."

"AND," Chloe continued, "TJ has prepared a very extensive First Aid kit just for him. It covers all boo-boos, big and small."

He seemed to suspect she was mocking him.

"Come on, Nick," he called. "No more tag."

With a scowl, the boy shuffled over to him. "OK."

Colonel Young gave Chloe one last warning look and walked off, hand-in-hand with his new son.

Park found out when she was giving Nick his second reading lesson of the day. It was a Young-sanctioned activity, one with little risk of boo-boos. The problem was, it contained a significantly higher risk of bonding than tag.

"Does he have to sit on your lap?" Young complained. Park looked up at him in surprise, subconsciously pulling Nick closer.

"He likes it," she said. Young's face was blank.

"I just don't think Dr. Rush would be happy to know he was cuddled by you as a small child."

"What, and he'd be happy to know you held his hand?" Eli pointed out. Young sent him a very nasty glare. Eli held up his hands in surrender.

"He likes being cuddled," Park said again, correcting Nick when his under-the-breath recitation of the alphabet went wrong. "He's touch-starved."

"There is no such thing as Nick being touch-starved."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. He holds my hand too much."

"You want a gold prize?" Eli muttered.

Utter, angry silence.

"Sorry," Eli said.

The next person to suffer Young's jealousy was TJ, who was in the process of mending some old fatigues to make clothes for the little boy. Young was watching them carefully, his blank expression melting a little into disapproval every time TJ tried to take Nick's measurements.

"He doesn't like when you do that," Young said finally with a pointed glance at TJ's measuring twine. She stared at him, then looked back at Nick for confirmation, pulling the twine away from his bare stomach.

Blushing a little, he nodded.

"Sorry," TJ said, searching her mind for other options. "Um, it's only for a little bit, if that makes it better."

Nick seemed comforted by that. Young was not.

"I'd rather we just not do it," he said firmly. TJ's hands went slack.

"OK," she said, drawing out the vowels, "well, I think Nick might also be uncomfortable running around in nothing but Rush's shirt. Hm?"

Young scowled.

"We'll just guess on the sizes," he decided. TJ's mouth thinned into a straight line as he examined the fatigues. "He's going to grow, right? If we can't change him back? So who cares if they're a little too –"

"Colonel."

His head turned toward her. TJ gave him a significant look.

"What?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't."

A long, long pause.

"Everett," TJ said, voice even and calm, "Nick and I are going to go bond together, OK? Without you."

He tried to hide it, but he definitely looked unhappy.

"Actually," he started, "it's getting close to Nick's bedtime –"

"Nope."

He stared at her. TJ stared back. Nick stared between them, his head moving rapidly.

"Nope?" Young repeated. TJ nodded. "You can't just –"

"I can." She rose to her feet, arms crossed. She was in Confrontation Mode. "Colonel Young, I'm speaking on the behalf of everyone on Destiny who's interacted with Nick. All eight of them."

He had the gall to look confused. "What –"

"Listen!" she cut in. "Colonel, in the space of seven hours, you have become what's generally called … a mother hen."

"I have not."

"You have!" She crossed the room and snagged a Kino, flipping through it 'till she found the right footage. She showed him videos of himself confronting Greer and Park. "You're fussy. You're disagreeable. You're bossy and pissy and an absolute bitch to anyone who dares touch your kid."

"He's not my –"

"Colonel, you're holding hands with him right now."

Startled, Young looked down and blinked at the small fingers enclosed in his own. He blinked again. "Huh."

"Please," said TJ, putting on her best pleading face. "Just let the rest of us play with him, too? Before Camille succeeds in changing him back?"

There was a wonderful moment where Young's face showed nothing but understanding and contrition. Then her words registered.

"Camille?" he said dangerously. "She's trying to change him back?"

"She says we need him in order to get home. And live."

Well, that was true.

"He'll probably change back on his own," Young shrugged, trying to act unconcerned. "In a coupla days."

"Yeah," said TJ sarcastically. "Or in forty years."

Young scowled. He stabbed a finger in Nick's direction, staring him in the eye.

"Stay here," he ordered.

He stormed off to yell at Camille.