R&R, a stargate: atlantis fanfic

AN: This was a fic generated in response to a challenge on the SGAHC yahoo list. It fast grew past the max words, but I figured most people wouldn't complain...

R&R

Written by M.N. Talbert

Elizabeth pulled another shirt from a drawer by her bedside, and began folding it carefully. She didn't want to go; truth be told, she was more than a little reluctant. Carson had pulled her aside after her physical, and laid it out in irrefutable logic. She needed a vacation, and if she didn't, he was going to relieve her of command. He was the one person that could.

Her stress levels were so high King Kong couldn't climb them. Still, this was her baby, the members of the expedition, her responsibility. What if something happened while she was gone? She sighed, and placed the now folded shirt into her bag. Only four days, that's all she'd agreed to. Four days – what could possibly happen in four days?

Sheppard swiveled in Weir's chair, smiling. She'd agreed to the downtime prescribed by Beckett, and left him in charge. Four days – and she'd handed him at least four pages of notes. He picked up the thick sheaf, and glanced through. It was worse than a mother leaving her newborn with a babysitter for the first time.

She'd left over an hour ago, taking Sergeant Stackhouse as pilot. Sheppard had left the Jumper bay and headed straight to her office. He kind of liked the whole idea. As much as she'd get her down time, he'd get some also. After all, how hard could it be sitting at the desk and signing forms? All missions had been postponed till she returned; the last team out arrived shortly before she'd left. All he had to do was keep things running until she got back. Piece of cake…

A soft knock on the door drew Sheppard's eyes from the latest form that had been deposited on his desk…rather her desk, but temporarily his, and he was beginning to think there was some secret plot to keep him stuck here wading through the paperwork.

"Come in," he called, drifting back to the paper; the science team had requested a complete power shut-down, except emergency systems.

McKay strode in, eyeing the pile of paper before him, and smiling smugly. "Settling in, I see," he observed.

Sheppard forced a pained smile. "Do you need something?" he asked.

"Actually, yes," said McKay, slipping into the seat across from Sheppard. "Radek sent up a request for -"

Sheppard held the paper aloft.

"Right, so can we?"

Sheppard perused the form again. "What exactly is this for?" he asked.

"Do you remember that compound we found on M56-2X5?"

Sheppard thought back, "The planet with the purple sky?"

"That's the one," confirmed McKay. "We think we can integrate it into the Naqaudah generators, and increase the power output by fifty percent, if not more," he explained, lifting a tube off the desk and rolling it in his hands.

Sheppard reached across the desk, and took the tube from McKay, setting it back on the desk. McKay shrugged and said, "So, we've been waiting for a chance, and this is perfect. There aren't any teams out, we've shut down the other experiments, postponed some -"

"If this has been in the works for some time, why didn't you ask Elizabeth before she left?" said Sheppard suspiciously.

McKay squirmed in his seat. "Because -"

"Because she said no," concluded Sheppard. "McKay -"

McKay leaned forward in his chair. "She said it would take too long, and with teams coming and going it would be unsafe. Right now, there aren't any teams out, and we've got a scheduled four-day down time. I can have it done in two," he said.

"You're not lying to me?" asked a skeptical Sheppard.

"No," exclaimed McKay. "Would I lie to you?"

Sheppard shook his head, and leaned back in the chair, swiveling slightly. "No," he admitted. "But you might not tell the whole truth."

"All I need is two days. During that time we'll be down to emergency power, but if this works, it'll be more than worthwhile, I promise."

Sheppard eyed McKay warily; he was earnest, and confident. He sighed, "Okay. But, if anything goes wrong -"

"I'll take full responsibility," assured McKay.

Sheppard waved a hand towards the door. "Go, I'll make the announcement now, wait an hour, so anyone who needs the time can get prepared," he paused and looked at another form that was from Beckett. "Don't break the city, McKay," he added.

McKay looked insulted. "Me? Break the city?" he stood up and called over his shoulder, "Don't worry. I always fix what I break."

Sheppard winced, that was supposed to make him feel better?

Sheppard stood, and stretched; his back cracked painfully. He couldn't believe how much paperwork went into running this place. He pushed the chair in, and glanced at the clock in the dim light. It was after midnight – where had the time gone?

He wandered out of the office, and surveyed the gateroom. A lone technician sat at one of the consoles. "Good night," called Sheppard.

The tech looked up, surprised to see him. "Good night, Sir. I didn't know anyone was still in there."

"With the power down, hard to tell anything," said Sheppard. The city was reduced to emergency lighting, but hopefully it would be worth it. Beckett had raised a fuss over the news, but had settled down when Sheppard had promised to give him extra power for a genetics experiment he wanted to run.

He sighed; was this the kind of juggling Elizabeth did every day? Playing one section off the other, and trying to satisfy everyone in the process?

He headed to his quarters, wishing he hadn't worked through dinner. The grumbling in his stomach told him it regretted it even more. He stumbled into the darkened room, and thought longingly of a nice hot shower before bed – but with the power out, there wouldn't be any hot water. Now he was beginning to realize why Elizabeth had said no. Still, if it worked…

He sat on his bed, and pulled his boots off, stretching his feet as he did so. He was beat, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn't bother getting undressed, just stretched out on the bed, tucking one arm under the pillow and beneath his head.

He had just started to drift off when banging on his door brought him awake. He tried to call what, but had to clear his throat. He tried again, "What?"

The door swished open, and Beckett rushed in. "I've been trying to get ye on the comm," he said irritably.

Sheppard had pushed himself up on both elbows, and was looking at Beckett, confused. "Doctor, it's after -" Sheppard paused to look at the time, "- midnight. What could you possibly need at this hour?"

"You know Bates' team?" said Beckett, hovering over Sheppard.

Sheppard nodded, "I believe so, yes," he said dryly.

Beckett appeared sheepish for a second, then continued, "Right, anyway, they've developed some kind of rash, and it's spreading," he explained.

Sheppard still didn't understand why Beckett was here. "What do you want me to do? Order it to go away?"

Beckett threw him a look that said he wasn't amused. "You're in charge, Major," he reminded Sheppard. "You need to know when these things happen, and," he added, "You need to decide whether to quarantine or not."

Sheppard frowned, and asked, "Okay, I know I'm tired, but why would I order a quarantine?"

"Because it's spreading," repeated Beckett slowly.

"Oh," said Sheppard. He'd thought Beckett meant spreading on their bodies, not spreading to other bodies. He finished coming into a sitting position, swinging his legs onto the floor. He would have to go to the infirmary and see for himself. "How many?"

Beckett watched with relief while Sheppard began to tug his boots on over bare feet. "Only three other cases apart from the original four member team."

Sheppard's stomach growled loudly. Beckett and Sheppard looked at each other, and Beckett blinked. "Maybe you should eat something on the way?"

Why not? At this rate, he wasn't going to get any sleep soon. Might as well get something to eat and take care of one need. "I'll meet you down there," he said.

Beckett left, and Sheppard finished lacing his boots. He'd stop and grab some coffee and something – anything but a powerbar.

"No coffee?" asked Sheppard incredulous.

The mess clerk shook her head. "Sorry, Sir. With the power down, we're using our emergency supply only for main meal dishes. No coffee."

Sheppard stared at the coffee pot with longing.

"I could get you some tea, Sir?"

"Hot?" he asked hopefully.

"Iced tea," she said.

He sighed. "No thanks." He grabbed a muffin, and started to walk off, before turning back and grabbing another, offering a weak smile to the girl, before leaving. He should've been in the infirmary minutes ago, but he had wanted coffee so bad he could taste it. This was going to be a long night…

"It looks like poison ivy," said Sheppard, looking at Bates.

Beckett shook his head. "Not exactly, look at the pustules," Carson pointed at the red angry raised blisters on Bates' arm, "poison ivy doesn't develop to this degree."

Sheppard had grimaced at the point where Beckett had used pustules in the sentence. Elizabeth actually did all of this? He swallowed, and wished he'd waited on eating the muffins. "How is it spread?" he asked, suddenly wondering why he was standing next to a potentially infectious individual.

Beckett understood his fear, "Contact, Major," he said. "It's not airborne from what I've been able to tell."

"From what you've been able to tell," Sheppard repeated uneasily, backing up a step without realizing it.

"Aye," Beckett agreed. He stepped away from the bed, and drew the curtain. "I'm trying different antibiotics and dermatological treatments, but so far nothing has been very successful."

Sheppard followed Beckett into his office. "Is it dangerous?" he asked. What he wanted to know is if it would cause permanent damage or death.

"No," said Beckett. He knew what Sheppard meant. "Uncomfortable, definitely. It's just a matter of time finding the best treatment. I've got my team combing the archives for any mention of something similar." Beckett dropped into his chair, indicating for Sheppard to sit in the other. "If we could return to the planet and get samples -"

"Can't," interrupted Sheppard, sitting down with a tired groan. "The power -"

"I know," said Beckett. He pulled out two small shot glasses, and a bottle of Scotch, pouring two. He handed one to Sheppard, not asking if he wanted it.

Sheppard took the glass, and sniffed it cautiously, before downing it in one gulp. Now he was thankful for the muffins, because that stuff burned going down with lethal intent. He stifled a cough, and said, "Good stuff."

Beckett had downed his, and grinned sheepishly. "Only for special occasions," he said. "Now, quarantine or not?"

Sheppard shrugged, saying, "You tell me, you're the doctor."

Beckett pursed his lips, before answering, "I cannae be sure it's not airborne, but I'm reasonably certain."

"It'd have to be voluntary anyway," offered Sheppard. At Beckett's questioning look he supplied, "The power. Quarantine systems are off-line."

"That settles that then."

Sheppard nodded, hunched in the chair. He could almost sleep…

A knock at the door startled both men. A nurse peeked in, and focusing on Beckett, said, "Doctor, Sergeant Bates has developed a fever."

Beckett didn't look particularly surprised, which comforted Sheppard, but he did get up. He stepped around the desk and put a hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "Get some sleep, Son. I'll let you know if anything else develops."

"You do that," said Sheppard. He followed Beckett out of his office, but turned, and exited the infirmary. He started towards his quarters. He figured he could get a few hours at least before he was due back on shift…

He got two. It was just shy of two in the morning when he crawled into his bed, and this time he didn't bother with the boots. A banging on his door woke him. He opened his eyes, and stared up at the dark. "What now?" he called.

McKay took it as in invitation, and strode into Sheppard's room, squinting as he left the more illuminated hallway. "Major, I've got a problem."

"Unless someone is going to die, couldn't this have waited?" asked Sheppard. He hadn't made any move to get up.

"No, this can't wait, unless you want to explain to Elizabeth why the city has no power," snapped McKay.

"You told me two days, McKay," said Sheppard. "Two days, what happened to two days?"

"That was before Kavanagh took it upon himself to run an experiment in tandem without telling me. The drain on emergency power is threatening to overload the system!"

Sheppard rolled onto his side, and read the soft red display on his clock - four in the morning. "Tell him I said no," said Sheppard.

"Don't you think I tried that?" drawled McKay. "He won't listen to me."

Sheppard realized nothing was going to work short of talking to Kavanagh himself. Besides, while he was up, he should probably check in with Beckett on the condition of Bates, and the others. He stood up, and reached over for his jacket. "Lead the way," he gestured towards the door.

Sheppard could hear the raised voices before they reached the lab. He looked over at McKay and asked, "Don't you people sleep?" Was the whole city up at this ungodly hour?

McKay was about to reply, when the door swished open, and Radek stormed out, sweeping past the two stunned men. He stopped when he realized whom he'd blown by, and Sheppard didn't think he'd ever seen the Czech quite so angry. His hair was ruffled, and his face red. "That man," Radek made what Sheppard thought had to be a rude gesture, "is pig!" and he stormed off down the hall.

Bemused, Sheppard followed McKay in, only to find Kavanagh sitting at a computer console, placidly typing away. Sheppard waited for McKay to start, but when he didn't, Sheppard threw a disgusted look at McKay that said he'd get him later, before coughing to get Kavanagh's attention. "Doctor Kavanagh, we need to talk."

"Not right now, Major," said Kavanagh. The scientist didn't even turn from the screen.

Sheppard frowned, and crossed his arms. "Now, Doctor," he said sternly.

Kavanagh stopped typing. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said sarcastically. He swiveled to face Sheppard. "I forgot; Elizabeth left you in charge." "What can I do for you, Major," he asked patently polite.

"Stop your experiment," said Sheppard, getting straight to the point.

Kavanagh shook his head negatively. " I can't do that. If I do, weeks worth of data will be useless."

Sheppard's eyes narrowed, and he looked at McKay, "Did you know about this?"

"He's lying," said McKay bluntly. "He started this after power was shut-down."

Sheppard didn't want to get into a 'he-said, he-said' argument at four in the morning. "Is there any possible way these can be run together?"

"No, absolutely not," declared McKay.

Kavanagh declared the opposite. "Certainly."

Sheppard reached a hand up and rubbed it across his forehead. He could feel the tension headache beginning to throb. "McKay, you say no; Kavanagh, you say yes. Both of you can't be right."

"I'm right," supplied McKay, his chin jutted out stubbornly.

Kavanagh cast a disparaging look at the physicist. "No, you are not," stated Kavanagh. He turned back to his computer. His intention was clear; as far as he was concerned the discussion was over.

But he was wrong. "Doctor Kavanagh, stop your experiment," ordered Sheppard.

Kavanagh turned back, protesting, "You're just siding with McKay because he's on your team."

Sheppard's face grew colder than the day he'd flown O'Neill over Antarctica. He closed the distance between him and Kavanagh, unfolding his arms as he moved. "Wrong," he said, his voice controlled. "Stop the experiment," he ordered. He didn't give Kavanagh another chance to protest. Sheppard strode out of the room, McKay on his heels.

"Major, if he doesn't -"

Sheppard kept walking, but snapped over his shoulder, "Then you do it. I said you could!"

McKay stopped, and watched Sheppard storm away. He smiled at the thought of hitting the power switch on Kavanagh…

Sheppard headed back to his quarters, and sat on his bed. The clock glowed the time, five-thirty in the morning. His shift started at seven.

What was the use of sleeping for an hour? None. It would only be enough to make him aware of just how tired he was. Besides, he forgot he wanted to check in on Beckett and get an update on the rash victims. He pushed himself back to his feet wearily. Infirmary…

He walked through the frosted double doors, and was alarmed to see more occupied beds, and Beckett's staff hustling to and fro. "Beckett!" he barked, wondering why the doctor hadn't contacted him if the situation had worsened.

Beckett appeared from his office, looking like he'd been sleeping. "What?" he asked.

Sheppard pointed a hand in the direction of the other beds that had been empty when he'd been here last. "More?" he asked.

He saw the recognition dawn on Beckett. "Aye, they came in an hour ago. I sent a nurse to find you -"

Sheppard realized he'd been dealing with Kavanagh. "Sorry, I was…detained."

Beckett looked at him sharply, but Sheppard waved it off. "Just - give me an update before I head to the control room."

"Right," said Beckett. He moved towards Sheppard, and steered him to a computer running softly in the background, and pointed at a paragraph of Ancient text. "We think we found what the cause was," he explained.

"So you can fix it?"

"I said we know what the cause is," said Beckett. He slipped his hands into his pockets, and stared tiredly at the screen. "The antidote – that's a different story."

Sheppard was beginning to think four days was three too many. "I'm going to get breakfast," he said. "If you need me, after that I'll be in Weir's office - keep me updated."

He didn't wait for a reply, but turned and left the infirmary as fast as possible. He wasn't quite buying the not airborne prognosis. He was going to get a cup of coffee and – he groaned when he realized there still wouldn't be coffee. Not until tomorrow, if McKay finished on time. Damn it! This was going to be a very long day…

An hour later, Sheppard was munching on another muffin, and reading a missing item report from the mess hall. He read it once, and then shook his head, reading it again to verify it said what he thought it said. How the hell could ten cases of Jell-o disappear?

He set the report aside; he'd need to go talk to the officer in charge and find out exactly when this had happened, and how. He picked up another, when suddenly the emergency lightly dimmed for a few seconds before returning to the normal level. He waited, and when the power stayed steady, he returned to the form. Ten minutes later, the emergency power shut down with a groan, leaving Sheppard in darkness.

He sat in the chair and contemplated not moving. He had a sneaking suspicion this had something to do with McKay. His door was pushed open, and a young tech looked at him expectantly, "Sir? Shouldn't we find out why the emergency power went down?"

Sheppard nodded. "We should."

The tech waited.

Sheppard sighed, and stood up. "Keep an eye on things," he instructed. "I'm going to find Doctor McKay."

The tech nodded saying, "Yes, Sir."

It didn't take Sheppard long to find McKay. You could say, he ran into the physicist. Literally. He groaned again, the throbbing in his head was increasing, and the fall had jarred every tired bone in his body.

McKay had scrambled back to his feet, and offered a hand to Sheppard. "Sorry," he said. "I was trying to find you."

"Funny," said Sheppard, pulling on McKay's hand and getting back on his feet. McKay started to fix Sheppard's jacket, when Sheppard's look caused him to stop. Sheppard continued, "I was looking for you. What happened to my power?"

"Kavanagh," said McKay. Sheppard could see the annoyance written across McKay's face in the glow from his flashlight. "The sneaky -"

Sheppard had a sinking suspicion. "He did it anyway, didn't he?"

"After I left," confirmed McKay. "I went back and he showed me the program was closed. He must have put it on stand-by."

"That son of a bitch," swore Sheppard. He had his hands on his hips, and was radiating anger. He was quickly going through scenarios in his mind. "Can you fix it?" he finally asked McKay abruptly.

"Probably," said McKay with forced confidence. "I had three of the six generators finished."

"You do that, leave Kavanagh to me," ordered Sheppard. He strode off leaving McKay watching his retreating back. McKay couldn't help but want to be there to see this…

Sheppard stopped by the security office, and waved at two of the guards. They looked surprised, but followed him out the room. He headed straight for the lab where he knew Kavanagh was. He strode in, the security men behind him.

"I want that man confined to quarters," ordered Sheppard.

Kavanagh looked like he thought it was a joke. He kept working. Sheppard stepped aside, and gestured for the soldiers to take him into custody.

As their hands closed on Kavanagh's arms, he spluttered, "You can't be serious!"

"Deadly," said Sheppard succinctly.

As they hauled him out the door, McKay waved gleefully from the corridor. Sheppard stepped out, and fixed a glare on McKay, who dropped his hand.

He started back towards his office. McKay jogged to catch up. "I told Radek to shut his experiment down."

"Good."

"You know, you should get some sleep," observed McKay. "You look tired."

Sheppard stopped, and turned to look dumbfounded at McKay, who shrugged, and left him standing in the corridor.

Sheppard skipped lunch, and after hours of sitting at the desk doing yet more paperwork, by flashlight until McKay managed to successfully restore emergency power, he decided he should get something to eat. It was nearing dinner, and he hadn't heard a thing from Beckett. He wasn't sure if that was good, or bad.

He stood up, arching his back, and wondering how Elizabeth wasn't a cripple from all the hours spent sitting in this chair. He wasn't used to sitting behind a desk like this, and his body was reminding him painfully of the fact.

He headed out, telling the tech to page him if anything happened while he was gone. Individual radios were turned off to conserve power, but city-wide was available on a case-by-case basis.

He stopped by the mess hall, and noticed there wasn't much left. He looked at the muffins. He was getting sick of muffins. He needed something with more protein, like a big juicy steak. He took the lump of processed meat, because that's what was there. He didn't ask what it was supposed to be. He didn't want to know.

He headed towards the infirmary, eating as he went. Whatever it was, the bread tasted good. He took the last bite before entering the infirmary. Beckett wasn't there, but some other doctor was checking on Bates, and murmured instructions to the nurse assisting him.

He couldn't remember the doctor's name, but he waved him over. "Has Beckett found a cure?" he asked.

He eyed Sheppard with an assessing eye. "No, I sent Carson to get some rest," he said. "You look like you could use some as well, Major."

Sheppard almost rolled his eyes, but kept himself from doing it. This guy wasn't to blame for the series of problems stalking him. "I'm trying," he said. "Are they worse? Better?" Sheppard gestured towards the figures lying in the beds.

The doctor looked over his shoulder while answering, "Not worse, not really better." He looked back at Sheppard. "Let's say they're holding their own."

Sheppard peered around the doctor and saw Bates trying unsuccessfully to itch his arm, and being stopped by a nurse. He grimaced in sympathy. "Keep me informed; when Beckett comes back on duty, let me know."

The doctor nodded, and added as Sheppard headed out the door. "Get some sleep, Major. You need it."

Sheppard couldn't agree more, but first, he wanted to ask about missing Jell-o…

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" snapped Sheppard. "How can ten cases of the stuff just disappear?"

The Sergeant shifted uncomfortably under Sheppard's glare. "I don't know," he answered, defensive. "We do inventory every week. Last week they were there, this week -"

"Not there," finished Sheppard tiredly. He looked at his watch. It was after eight. He'd been waylaid by one of Kavanagh's guards. The scientist was demanding to be released, and complaining about the food. Sheppard had told the guard to tell Kavanagh that he'd be released when McKay was finished, and the food was the same thing everyone else was eating.

What he didn't admit was the food was the same thing everyone had eaten the night before. Left-overs that probably were the bottom of the heated pans, which meant overcooked and dry. Served the man right.

The mess tech shrugged again saying, "Look, Major. I don't know who would want ten cases of Jell-O, and I don't know where or why, or anything. I'm sorry," he finished lamely.

Sheppard wondered if everyday was like the past two days. Surely it couldn't be this disastrous all the time? He sighed, and realized he was doing that a lot lately. "Okay, okay. If it turns up, let me know, otherwise I file the report and -" he trailed off because what did one do in a situation like this? Put out an APB on missing Jell-O? He shook his head in disgust.

"Yes, Sir," answered the Sergeant. "If you don't mind, Major, I was shutting down for the night."

Sheppard took the hint. He left the tech to close down the ovens, and decided bed would be nice. The power was still on emergency, but by morning McKay should have regular power restored. That meant a hot shower, coffee…

He fumbled into his quarters. He'd been up for virtually twenty-four hours straight, and he felt it. He was so tired, he was sure he wouldn't be awake before his head hit the pillow. He kicked off his boots, and managed to make it to the sink; if he couldn't shower, he'd at least wash his face.

He flipped on the water, and there was a choking gurgling sound, before something thick and gooey spat out of his faucet. He stared at it dumbly. He reached a finger, and poked it experimentally. It jiggled, and bounced back. With growing realization, he stuck a finger harder into the substance, and put the finger in his mouth. Jell-O. Son of a bitch…

He'd managed to storm out of his quarters, before the page came across the city-wide. He headed for the control room, and found the tech trying to pacify a group of expedition members, whom all turned at the sound of his arrival.

Sheppard held up a hand, stalling them. "I know, I know! I'm going to get to the bottom of this, in the meantime, I've opened the mess and everyone can get bottled water to use for the time being."

He didn't give them a chance to reply, instead heading for the office, and purposefully shut the door. Once there, he realized he couldn't do a thing, because the power was still emergency only. He needed to get a hold of McKay. He hid out for a few minutes, before peeking out the office, and seeing the tech asked, "Are they gone?"

The tech replied, "Yes, Sir."

He felt a surge of relief. Thank God, one thing went in his favor. He exited the office, stopping only long enough to tell the tech he was going to McKay's lab.

He found the physicist hunched over a generator. He crept in, coming behind McKay. "I need your help," he said.

McKay jumped; the tool in his hand jerked and caused a shower of sparks. McKay swore, and turned to face Sheppard. "Do you know what you just did?" he asked calmly.

"At the rate my night is going, I could only guess," retorted Sheppard.

"You just shorted out the generator!" McKay said, lifting a wire with frustration. "Now I've got to start all over again."

Sheppard fumed. "It's not my fault you can't be more careful."

"Yes, it is," replied McKay. "What did you want, anyway?"

Sheppard was about to say something rude, but reconsidered. He was here for a reason. "Someone dumped Jell-O in the water tanks. I want to know if you know who did it, and I need you to fix it."

McKay stared at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he were serious, before he started laughing. "Jell-O in the water tanks?"

"It's not funny!" exclaimed Sheppard.

McKay wiped at his eyes. "Yes, it is! I'm sorry – it's just, how did you find out?"

Sheppard's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he took a threatening step closer to McKay. "You did it?"

McKay stopped laughing, realizing the precarious situation he was in. "No," he said. "I might have heard something about it -"

"I want names, McKay," ordered Sheppard, and he was practically breathing down McKay's neck. "And then you better get your ass down there and fix it!" he roared, losing his attempt at staying calm and controlled.

McKay straightened, and regarded Sheppard stiffly. "I can't give you names, Major," he said. "And my ass is trying to fix the power problem."

"There wouldn't be a power problem if you hadn't convinced me to let you do this little project of yours!" he shouted.

"Well you did!" McKay shouted back. "So go away and let me finish!"

"We need water," gritted Sheppard, trying to calm the situation back down. "Water first, then power."

"Fine," snapped McKay, grabbing a bag of tools. He shoved past Sheppard, and left. After he was gone, Sheppard realized he still didn't know who was behind the prank. Damn it all to hell!

His bed. Sheppard looked down at it, almost afraid to lay down. If he did, they'd show up. He didn't know who, or why, but almost certainly someone would arrive with something to drag him out and away from sleep.

He sat down anyway, and he realized his boots weren't on. He'd never put them on after he'd discovered the Jell-O. That entire time, he'd been walking around bare foot, and nobody had said a thing. He swore to himself; he couldn't believe the disaster this was turning into. Four days. Four simple days -how hard could it be, he'd thought. Pretty damn hard, he was finding out.

He stretched out, and looked warily at the clock. Just after eleven. He felt a flash of guilt knowing McKay was up and trying to fix the water, but then again, McKay had obviously known about the prank, so it served him right.

He felt his eyes drift shut; and he almost immediately started dreaming of big globs of Jell-O chasing him down the corridors of Atlantis, when it jumped him, and he started shaking and jiggling down a hill he suddenly found himself on.

"Major," called Beckett.

Sheppard groaned; it wasn't the dream -the shaking was Beckett. He forced his tired eyes open. "What?" he croaked, trying to wake up.

"We've got a problem," whispered Beckett.

Sheppard peered up at him, and whispered back, "Why are you whispering?"

"Because," Beckett straightened and realized he was still whispering. "You were sleeping."

Sheppard pushed himself up, "And you were trying to wake me up, so why whisper?"

"Because it's nighttime," said Beckett.

"And people are sleeping," said Sheppard. "Like me." He fixed his eyes on Beckett, who winced.

"Aye, but Major, that rash -"

Sheppard held up his hand. "Don't tell me -"

Beckett continued anyway, "It's spreading; there've been ten more cases."

He sighed. "I told you not to tell me."

Beckett regarded him, noticing how exhausted the Major looked. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

Sheppard glanced at his clock. It read 12:34. "Oh sure," he said casually. He got to his feet, and realized he'd forgotten his boots again. He sat back down, and pulled them on, reaching for his jacket. When did he take his jacket off?

"So it's airborne?" concluded Sheppard, as he headed for his door, Beckett tagging after him.

"I'm beginning to think so, yes," answered Beckett.

Sheppard felt his shoulder's droop at the repercussions. "That means everyone's been exposed," he said what Beckett had been reluctant to. At the look on Beckett's face, Sheppard knew his day had just gotten a lot worse…

Sheppard was in the infirmary, a group of doctors around him. He'd called an impromptu meeting. "We need the cure for this," he stated.

The infirmary was filling with afflicted people. He surveyed the full beds, and nurses going from one person to the next, offering comfort in the form of medications and salve. "Has there been any progress with the information found in the archives?"

The doctor Sheppard couldn't remember the name of spoke up, "Actually yes, we've identified a compound used to treat the rash; however, we are missing a component of the antidote."

Before Sheppard could ask where they could get it, Beckett said, "It's found on a planet identified as M68-5X7."

Sheppard closed his eyes. To go to M68-5X7, they'd need to go through the gate. To go through the gate, they'd need power. To get power, he'd need McKay –

"Rodney's got to restore power," said Beckett, confirming Sheppard's internal thought process.

He rubbed at the ache above his eye with his right hand. He winced, and said, "I pulled McKay off the power, and told him to fix the water."

Beckett frowned and asked, "What's wrong with the water?"

"You don't want to know," said Sheppard.

"Maybe we should contact Doctor Weir -" started one of the other doctor's.

"No!" exclaimed Sheppard. Beckett had ordered her to rest, and damn it, rest is what she'd do. Besides, calling her would admit that he'd failed, and he wasn't going to admit that yet…

"I'll get McKay to restore main power as soon as possible." Sheppard stared at the wall, thinking – "How long after we get the missing component will it take to synthesize the antidote?"

"About an hour," guessed Beckett.

Sheppard nodded, satisfied, that was better than he'd hoped for at this point. "Good. Try to limit the spread of this," Sheppard pointed at a victim scratching desperately at his leg, "and give the information on the plant to Teyla."

Sheppard found McKay by the water tank, wielding a wrench and swearing loudly. Good. "Any progress," he asked.

He startled McKay again, and the physicist jerked, rapping his knuckles against a metal pipe. He saw McKay take a calming breath, before replying, "No."

He stood and waited.

McKay glanced at him, and asked, "Did you want something?" dripping with sarcasm.

"I want my water fixed, but I need you to turn main power back on," said Sheppard.

"Can't," replied McKay, ducking under the pipe and working the wrench uselessly. He grunted, and wound up swinging the wrench at the bolt like fixture.

"Can't, or won't?" asked Sheppard, forcing himself to keep his temper in check.

"Both," replied McKay. He gave another swipe, and tossed the wrench down. "I'm not a damn plumber," he swore.

"Then you should've told me about the Jell-O plot before hand," said Sheppard evenly. "And you will."

"Will what? Become a plumber?" replied McKay, intentionally obtuse.

"Restore power," gritted Sheppard. "That rash that Bates' team brought back is spreading, and we need to get a piece of the antidote off another planet."

He saw McKay's mental gears spin. "Rash?"

It dawned on Sheppard that McKay hadn't heard about it. "It's bad," he oozed. "Big, red pustules and it itches horribly," he continued. "It might even be disfiguring," he said solemnly.

McKay swallowed, and pushed himself out from under the tank's underbelly. "I'll get right on it," he said.

"Good."

McKay handed him the wrench, and said, "You fix it," before walking off. Sheppard looked at the wrench, and the area McKay had been working on. He wasn't a plumber…

Sheppard slid out from under the tank. He was pretty sure he'd fixed it. He didn't know how, and he didn't want to know, but the water was running clear now, at least from this faucet.

He looked down and realized he was soaked in a mixture of water and melted Jell-O. He got to his feet, and looked at his watch – 3:45 in the morning. He was so tired he'd quit feeling tired. He left the tools, and headed to check on McKay.

He hadn't made it to McKay's lab, when Atlantis came back to life; main power was back on! He offered a silent prayer of thanks. Something finally had gone right. He arrived at McKay's lab, and poked his head in, seeing McKay was gone. Probably hooking the last generator up.

He debated on looking for him, but decided against it. He needed to get Teyla and a team out to the planet, and retrieve the needed plant. He headed off towards Teyla's quarters, knocking softly on her door. She answered, tousled and sleepy.

"Did -"

"Doctor Beckett informed me a few hours ago, Major," she replied. She left the door open and headed back in towards her bed.

He followed her. "Are you ready? McKay got the power up."

She sat on her bed, and nodded. "I am ready. Will you and Doctor McKay -"

"No," he interrupted. "Just you and Lieutenant Ford. The information we have on the planet indicates what we're looking for is near the gate."

Sheppard stood there, and finally Teyla indicated her clothes, "Major, I need to -"

"Oh," he said, realizing she was in her t-shirt and some kind of sleeping shorts. "I'll just – wait outside," he finished awkwardly.

She smiled, and inclined her head slightly. "I will be…right out."

Sheppard left, and leaned on the wall outside her quarters. He wasn't looking, or he would've seen McKay approaching him.

"Major," called McKay.

Sheppard jerked. He'd started to doze –

"Your power has been restored, and I'm going to bed," stated McKay. "Unless you want me to scour the floor with my toothbrush or -"

"Don't tempt me," said Sheppard gruffly. "Go get some sleep."

McKay acknowledged Sheppard with a slight bob of his head, and started towards his quarters, but paused as Sheppard called after him, "Good work."

Sheppard saw McKay wave an accepting hand his direction, before he disappeared around the corner. He didn't have time to think of anything else, because Teyla's door slid open, and she walked out. "I am ready, Major."

He pushed off the wall, and started towards the gateroom. They'd pick up Ford en route –

At a little before seven in the morning, Ford and Teyla left. He was staring at the event horizon, bubbling and shifting in front of him. It cut-off, and he kept staring.

The tech prompted, "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't you get some rest?"

Sheppard realized the gate had shut down. "Probably," he answered. Instead of heading for his quarters, he headed back into Weir's office. It was day three - one more day to restore order, and solve the rash virus. Sleeping could wait.

Sheppard had started on the endless forms, when Ford and Teyla had returned, without hitch, and with the missing component. He'd sent them to the infirmary, and turned back to the paperwork. He didn't want a stack of it waiting for Elizabeth when she returned, despite all the issues that had cropped up. That alone was going to turn her green, but if everything was fixed when she got back, it'd help the medicine go down a little smoother.

He had begun to type up a report over the events of the past three days, but was unsatisfied that he still hadn't gotten to the bottom of the Jell-O prank. He saved the file, and got up. He had a visit to pay to McKay…

He found McKay sleeping, and after trying a few times to wake him, realized the physicist was not merely sleeping; he was unconscious. He pulled the blanket back, and sure enough, McKay was covered in the rash. Sheppard dropped the blanket like a hot potato, fighting the sudden urge to shower and scrub every inch of his body with antibacterial soap.

He called a med team to McKay's quarters and watched anxiously while they loaded him up. Beckett put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We've got the antidote almost ready, Son. He'll be okay."

There was that…but he still needed to know who was behind the prank. He didn't tell that to Beckett. He didn't realize he was still staring at McKay's bed when a few moments later Beckett was back, and started leading him out of the room. "Maybe you should come with me -"

Sheppard shook off the fatigue. "I'm fine," he said. "Just thinking."

"You can think from a bed," said Beckett.

Sheppard planted his feet, and pulled his arm free. "I've got one day to figure out who contaminated the water supply, fill out all the forms that have piled up, and type a report explaining every disaster that has happened, including the reason why Kavanagh was confined to his quarters."

Beckett rolled his eyes. "It can wait for a few hours, Lad."

"No," replied Sheppard. "You've got your antidote, and somehow I doubt you've gotten much sleep either."

Beckett had the grace to look sheepish. "All right, but if I find out you haven't slept soon, I'll drag you down myself!" he threatened, and headed back towards the infirmary. Sheppard had a sudden urge to go running after him and tell him never mind, knock him out so he could sleep, but he didn't. He did have work to do, and he knew he wouldn't sleep until he was done.

Sheppard signed the last report, and set it on the out pile with a big grin. He'd done it! He looked at his watch and realized it was almost dinner! He'd worked straight through lunch, and hadn't even realized it. He'd finished the incident reports on the power problems, Kavanagh's confinement (he'd ordered him released an hour ago), and also on the mysterious rash virus that Bates' team had picked up. He'd left off the Jell-O.

He stretched his hands out, and heard his bones pop. He wandered out of the office, and checked in with the technician on duty. There was nothing new. He smiled. Nothing new. That was a nice change of pace.

He decided maybe he should check on McKay. He headed that way, and walked in the doors, surprised to find it relatively quiet. The beds were still full, but he noticed some of the original infected individuals were gone, most noticeably Bates.

The doctor-whose-name-he-could-never-recall came out of Beckett's office. "Ah, Major Sheppard, come to check on Doctor McKay," he guessed.

Sheppard nodded, and looked around. "Where is he?"

He led Sheppard around a privacy curtain, and he saw McKay lying miserable in bed, his arms swathed in white bandages. "This is your fault," hissed McKay.

Sheppard raised a hand to his chest. "Mine?"

"Yes, you."

"How is it my fault?"

McKay scowled, and tried unsuccessfully to scratch. "You kept coming around, exposing me -"

Sheppard stared at him, bemused, "Wouldn't that mean I should be infected also?"

"Not if you're a carrier," answered McKay waspishly.

Sheppard shook his head. "You're a real piece of work, McKay," he said. He turned to go, and said, "I just came to tell you I wrote down what a good job you did in the report to give to Elizabeth."

McKay reddened. "Oh," he said.

Sheppard hid his grin. He knew that'd make him feel bad. "You take it easy," he said, fighting to keep the smile off his face.

McKay looked abashed. "Uh, thanks."

Sheppard made a quick exit. If only McKay knew how predictable he was –

Sheppard finally headed back to his quarters. It was almost twenty-two hundred hours. He'd stopped back at Elizabeth's office, touching up a few last minute reports that had come in, before heading for bed. Funny how only yesterday everything had been a mess, and now, the city was peaceful, and he could hand it back to Elizabeth, having handled everything that had cropped up.

Almost seventy-two hours with no sleep. He wasn't even sure he remembered how to sleep…

…and that thought was truer than he'd realized. He couldn't sleep. He looked at the clock in disbelief. He'd been laying here for over three hours, and had yet to fall asleep. Not even a short doze. He felt like he was coming out of his skin. What the hell!

He scratched at his arm irritably, and rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. He'd be damned if he was going to get up. He'd stay here until he managed to sleep…

Hours later, staring bleary eyed at the clock, he admitted defeat. It was almost seven in the morning, and Elizabeth was due back soon. He knew he probably looked as bad as he felt, so he didn't bother with the mirror. He scratched again at an itch on his shoulder and got dressed. He couldn't believe after all that, he couldn't sleep.

He left his quarters, foul mood hanging over him like a thundercloud, and made his way to Elizabeth's office. He wanted to retrieve his final report and hand it over to her. He marched through the control room, knowing that everyone was staring at him. He looked down, making sure he had his pants on. They were there, and so were his boots. He supposed he looked bad enough – and angry enough, that he was rumor of the day.

He tried to look even angrier; which wasn't hard considering how he felt. That ought to keep everyone quiet. He got the report and headed towards the Jumper bay. He'd heard she was minutes out. As he came to the door, he was startled to see Beckett, and a mostly recovered McKay waiting as well.

He saw their mouths drop open, and he glared. "Don't say it," he warned. If one person told him how bad he looked, he'd –

The door opened, and Elizabeth started out, only to stop, and stare at him in disbelief. He pursed his lips, and handed the report to her. She took it, still trying to find the right words. "John, you -" she floundered, and he scowled harder. She raised her eyebrows, and glanced at the papers, before looking back at him. "You've got spots," she finished, bemused.

Sheppard started to say, "I know, I look like crap. I haven't slept in days and -"

He stopped, and realized what she said. Another strong itch on his nose hit, and he paused his hand in mid-air, before repeating, "Spots?"

McKay was smiling broadly, and Beckett was a mixture of concern, and amusement.

"Aye," confirmed Beckett. "I believe you should come with me, Major." He reached for Sheppard's arm, and started to guide him away. Sheppard looked helplessly over his shoulder at Elizabeth. "Find out who did the Jell-O!" he called.

Elizabeth watched as Beckett dragged Sheppard away, and looked towards McKay, who was suddenly very interested in something on the ceiling. "Jell-O?" she echoed.

Elizabeth watched the Major sleep, a soft fond smile as she regarded his spotty face. She'd gotten through his report, confronted Rodney about the power and the issue with Kavanagh, and gotten briefed on the remaining members being treated in the infirmary, including the Major, who had been one of the last to fall ill with the virus.

Carson didn't know why it had passed over some, while hitting others; or even why it'd taken so long to affect John. He'd sedated the Major because of his need for rest. His over-tired condition, combined with the discomfort from the virus, was keeping him up even while his body screamed for sleep.

"He'll be fine," said Beckett quietly behind her.

She nodded. "I know."

"I don't think he'll be so eager for you to go again," said the Scot wryly.

"I know that, too," said Elizabeth.

Beckett found a chair, and sat down. He watched for a few moments, before asking. "I'm curious, who was behind the prank?"

Elizabeth's coloring face caused Beckett's jaw to drop in surprise –

"You?" he said, incredulous.

"It was only meant to make things a little…interesting for John," she said, fighting down the grin. "Radek -"

Beckett held up his hand. "Stop, right now. I know nothing, I heard nothing." He got up from the chair, and took another look at Sheppard, making sure he was resting comfortably. "Don't stay too long," he admonished, before leaving, muttering under his breath about the juvenile pranks –

And Elizabeth smiled –

THE END