Nothing smells like a hospital. Alcohol, disinfectant, and a frozen crispness to the air that’s almost a smell of its own. Frost. If frost had a smell. Apparently, it did because I knew I was in the infirmary long before I opened my eyes. And I took my time. Drifted on the edge of consciousness…listened to the beeping of monitors and an odd swish that I couldn’t place. It was the rustle of plastic that finally had me lifting my lids. It wasn’t a normal infirmary sound either. It sent a spike of adrenaline through the haze. I wanted normal. Things were supposed to be normal now.

“I think he’s waking up. Carson, he’s waking up. Carson.”

“I heard you the first time, Rodney,” came Beckett’s irritable voice. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I have Valium, you know, and I’m not afraid to treat you like my Da would. Stuff it in your flapping mouth and stroke your throat until you swallow.”

Now who could not open their eyes at that? I lifted my lids and blinked as a large orange blob materialized. It was a suit. A biohazard suit. “Look like…the Kool-aid guy,” I mumbled.

“Just a precaution, lad. It’s been almost twenty-four hours now. I’ll be ending the isolation soon. I’m certain whatever made you sick wasn’t caused by an air-borne nasty.” He leaned over me and quickly shone a light in my eyes. On/off. On/off. The whooshing sound was the air purifier zapping germs with Ancient efficiency.

“I keep telling you that, but do you listen to me? No, of course not. You just shake your rattle, cast a few chicken bones, and go confer with Marcus Welby via Ouija Board. Medical field, ha. Medical farce is more like it.” Rodney leaned from the other side. Dressed in scrubs with hair mussed, it looked as if I weren’t the only one in quarantine. I wondered what happened to the tech who’d walked into the lab. Hell, poor damn guy probably leaped off a balcony to a watery death rather than spend twenty-four hours locked in an isolation room with the Great and Benevolent Dr. McKay. Shit, I hoped it hadn’t been that shy little Asian girl. Right now she was McKay’s best and greatest hope of getting laid.

“It was this,” he went on, holding up the timeshifter. It looked different now. Dull and gray, the gold wire turned to charcoal. “I mean, granted, it actually leaving its signature burned into his hand might have thrown you, but let’s try to focus here.”

“Rodney.” A gloved finger pointed. “Shut up and sit down. Now. Or you won’t have an unpunctured bum left to sit on. Are we clear?”

McKay scowled, but he was, as he never tired of telling us, a smart man. He sat silently in the folding chair then used his feet to scoot it up next to my bed. Scrape. Shuffle shuffle. Scrape. Shuffle shuffle.

“Now, as I was saying.” Beckett tried to wipe the McKay induced sweat from his forehead only to be stymied by the plastic shield. “Damn it. As I was saying, you’re not contagious and Rodney seems to have some sort of theory that I’ll let him explain to you at length. Later. After I’m long gone.” His voice dropped and become a little more rough. “You nearly bled out, Major. Quite a few vessels burst throughout your body. It was almost as if you’d been exposed to the vacuum of space. Not as severe, but…bad enough. I gave you every drop of blood product we have, so if you could do me the favor of moving very, very cautiously for a bit, I would appreciate it.”

McKay tapped a Snoopy bandaid in the crook of his arm and gave me a smug Albert Schweitzer smile. “I’m not sure it’ll enhance your IQ any, but I’m quite sure it couldn’t hurt it.” The finger pointed again and Rodney hunched down in the seat. “Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Fascist.”

I coughed at the dryness of my throat and offered hoarsely, “Takes one to know one.”

Beckett gave me an approving smile, a pat on the shoulder, and some final words of advice. “You’ll ache, aye, but the pain shouldn’t be too severe. If you need anything for pain, call one of the nurses. Nothing by mouth now save an ice chip or two. Your stomach needs to heal as well.” With that he was gone, waddling as fast as he could in the isolation suit…leaving me to my doom.

“Thank God. The Marquis de Sade has left the building. Now we can talk.” Rodney put the rail down and leaned an elbow on the edge of the bed. Hesitating at first, he finally said brusquely, “You scared the shit out of me, you know? You run in missing a sock, knock me flat, try to strip me, bleed all over my nice clean floor, then vomit.” He ran a distressed hand over his hair, fast and careless. “Except for the blood it was a lot like most of my first dates.”

I couldn’t help my feeble snort that was partly muffled by something in my nose. I put my unbandaged hand to my face and felt plastic tubing. It was an oxygen cannula, the plastic prongs resting in my nostrils. I hated those things. They itched and dried your nose to a Sahara crispness. I curled my fingers around the slim tubing only to have my hand briskly slapped.

“Cut it out,” I scowled disgruntled.

He ignored me, looped fingers around my wrist, and returned my hand firmly to the mattress. “And you were talking some fairly crazy stuff as well,” he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. With his other hand, he held up the time-shifter. “Now, obviously this was involved. I had Radek search your quarters since I was in quarantine and he found this on the floor beside your bed. He also found a large collection of porn, which he has borrowed. Actually, he says borrowed, but I think it’s safe to say you’ll never see a single glossy page of that again. Now.” He slapped the Ancient device hard on the covers by my leg. “Why don’t you tell me what possessed you to use this. It almost killed you. Why would you do something so unbelievably stupid?”

I looked at his fingers still fastened around my wrist then up to meet eyes both angry and worried as hell. “You died,” I said grimly.

“Oh.” His hand tightened almost painfully on my wrist as he swallowed heavily. “Okay, good reason. Valid reason. You really shouldn’t play with things you don’t understand, but I’ll let it go…this once. Um…so…when will this…ah…nonevent not occur?” He was sweating a little. I didn’t blame him; I was too, although mine was from his temporal doublespeak. His had to be from picturing his own mortality. I didn’t have to picture it…I’d seen it in living color.

“It threw me back about forty-eight hours.” I gently extricated myself from his grip and rubbed my face. “Beckett said I’d been here almost twenty-four hours, right? So, tomorrow morning.”

He paled a fraction and bent slightly at the waist, hands locked over the nape of his neck. “Okay, okay. A day. We can figure something out in a day, right? Twenty-four hours, that’s like a week to a genius like me. I’ll probably have time left over to finish that perpetual motion machine I’ve been working on, maybe whip out a Grand Unification Theory while I’m at it. Piece of cake.” He blew out several rapid breaths. “Right. Piece of cake.”

I felt my lips twitch despite myself. I was going to have to stay at arms-length from him now…it was the only sane…the only safe thing to do, but…hell. No buts. Had to be done. Had to be. “It was on a mission, Rodney,” I said reassuringly. “We just won’t go. No big deal. Only thing on that piece of shit planet anyway was the time-shifter.”

“Which could very well kill the next person who uses it. You’re right. It’s not worth it.” He straightened and exhaled hugely. “All right, okay. Wish you’d told me that sooner. I think I wet myself.”

“In that case.” I wrinkled my nose and flipped a hand at him, urging him back towards his own bed several feet away, then yawned heavily. “I think I’ll get some more sleep.” I wasn’t faking. Exhaustion was dragging me down with heavy hands.

He stood. “Oh, okay. You do look….” He winced, reached to give my arm one last squeeze, and started back. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he added, “By the way…just curious, you know…ah, how did I die?”

My mouth snapped shut, cutting off another yawn ruthlessly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said instantly.

“Oh, come now,” he frowned. “I can handle it. I’ve heard worse before, I’m sure. Drowning while trapped in a doomed city, I think that pretty much takes the cake. Was it some sort of natural disaster? Rock slide? Earthquake? Or was it some trigger-happy Kolya asshole wannabe? Damn, I’m glad that bastard is dead. Or, hey, maybe it was while heroically saving some damsel in distress.” His jutting chin lifted nobly. “That sounds about right, I think. Fitting. Did I….”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it,” I pushed out between gritted teeth, interrupting him without compunction. Deliberately, I turned over on my side presenting my back to him. “Shut up, all right? Just shut the hell up.”

There was silence then the rustle of sheets. After a minute or two, he said quietly, “I’m sorry. Whatever happened it must’ve been hard to see. I’m…damn…I’m just really sorry.” I hunched my shoulder and thought the lights out. They flickered, buzzed, and stayed on. I sighed…I was still weak as hell and way off my game. “I’ve got them,” Rodney offered, and instantly they went out. I rolled onto my back in the darkness and gave a faint smile. He was coming along on that ATA gene…slowly but surely. Good for you, Supergeek, I mouthed to myself, then rolled back and slept.

With morning came the briefing. Carson wasn’t too pleased, but allowed twenty-five minutes. Any longer and someone would pay the price, and for once it wouldn’t be me. I was out of isolation, as was Rodney who’d gone to his room, changed, grabbed a breakfast tray, and came right back. I wasn’t sure what irritated me more…that he wouldn’t leave me alone with my new resolution to be as McKay-free as possible or that he was eating in front of me while I was still sucking on ice chips for nutrition.

“Dr. McKay,” Weir asked dryly, folding her legs as she leaned back in her chair, “did you happen to bring enough for the rest of the class?”

“What am I? Meals on Wheels?” Rodney looked up from his effort to spear Dr. Z’s hand with a fork. “You people have legs. Not foresight or spirit of preparation obviously, but I refuse to be held accountable for that.”

Taking advantage of his distraction, a triumphant Zelenka snatched the muffin from McKay’s tray and took a huge bite. “Selfish, Rodney,” he muttered. “Always so selfish. Are you starving? Are you malnourished? Are you big-eyed child in UN poster? No, I think not. Just greedy man with big stomach and bigger mouth.” I didn’t think Dr. Z would ever forgive McKay for disassembling the fembot.

“I’ll have you know it’s a well known fact that I’m hypoglycemic,” Rodney said stiffly, curving a protective arm around the rest of his food.

“Please. Is well known fact you’re huge hypochondriac. Now give me your grape juice.”

Once the snapping and snarling over the scraps were finished, Elizabeth directed attention to my tale of cheer and fun. I spit it out with nothing as foremost in my mind as getting it over with. “McKay, Ford, and I went to M3C-543. We found the time-shifter. McKay was killed. I used the shifter and it reset time by about forty-eight hours.” I folded arms across my chest, shrugged, and paid close attention to my sheet covered toes. “I woke up back in my room. That’s it.”

“A little worse for wear,” Rodney said under his breath.

“Well,” Weir said with due consideration, “that’s very succinct, I must say, but perhaps you can elaborate somewhat.”

Ford piped up, “Did I die too?” I shook my head silently. “Well, hey, that’s okay then,” he grinned, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead.

“Yes, okay for you,” McKay sniped. “How about we focus more on those of us who didn’t come out smelling like roses. Those of us who probably saved an entire village with some noble, selfless act. I wonder if they would’ve built a statue,” he mused. “Major, do you think some form of memorial would’ve come into play? Bronze or maybe marble…my arms cast up to the sky, my face beaming with benevolence.” He would’ve gone on if Dr. Z hadn’t elbowed him in the ribs hard in warning. It jerked Rodney’s attention back to me and my eyes, narrowed to annoyed slits. “Er…not that that sort of thing is important of course, not to a true hero,” he mumbled and took a hurried bite of egg substitute.

“You died, McKay, from a ten thousand year old automated defense system. There was an explosive round that went through your flak jacket like it wasn’t even there and you bled to death, okay? You bled a fucking river. I hope that’s enough detail because that’s all you’re going to get,” I said flatly.

There were a few moments of awkward silence from everyone, then Rodney dropped his fork with a clink and handed the tray to Zelenka. His appetite unaffected by the news and blissfully intact, Dr. Z began to make short work of it. Elizabeth then started with the questions. She was careful to limit them to the planet in general and the temple in specific. I answered them automatically. It wasn’t long that I felt my eyelids grow heavy and the air take on that peculiar thick syrupy quality it does when you’re beyond tired.

“Elizabeth, I think the Major is ready for some sleep,” Rodney said with a subdued quiet I rarely heard in him.

She searched my face and frowned at what she saw. “One or two more questions, Major Sheppard, and I’ll be finished. I promise.”

“Elizabeth, seriously. Look at him. He’s the picture of drooling subintelligence. Surely they can wait until later when he’s actually conscious to hear them.” It was impatient, domineering, and far more the Rodney I knew. And as Rodney’s bossiness usually did, it worked. I closed my eyes for what I thought was just a second, but when I opened them everyone was long gone.

Almost everyone.

Rodney was asleep in the chair beside my bed. He’d been there for some while if the book in his lap was any indication. He must have brought my copy of ‘War and Peace’ from my room for me to read later. That meant he’d discovered that underneath the classic cover actually lay The Shining. He looked to be a quarter of the way through it already. That wasn’t speed reading…that was friggin’ osmosis. “McKay,” I growled. He slept on, head tilted back awkwardly and a light snore vibrating his throat. “McKay!”

He jerked awake so quickly he nearly fell from the chair. “Redrum!” Blinking, he sagged and scrubbed his eyes with a fist, then glared at the back of the book-jacket where Stephen King’s face leered. “What is wrong with this man? Seriously. Is he deranged? Is he the left hand of evil walking the earth? What?”

I snorted and held out a hand for my book. He handed it over almost eagerly and didn’t make one remark about the War and Peace disguise. It was almost disappointing. But I couldn’t think like that now. I needed space and a professional relationship. Business. Duty. Just as it should’ve been from the beginning. I used to be smarter than this. Afghanistan made sure of that. What the hell had happened? “McKay,” I said somberly. “You need to go. I really can’t….”

He waved a hand. “I heard you the first time. Perfect recall, remember? Not that I would need it for something you said just over a day ago. You don’t want to be my friend anymore.” He snorted derisively. “How very sixth grade of you.” He folded his hands across his abdomen. “Well, too bad for you, Major. You don’t get a choice in the matter.”

I tightened my lips. “Get out.”

“Nope. Can’t make me.”

“I’ll call Carson and have him throw you out, Rodney,” I snapped. “I swear to God I will.”

“Go ahead. I’ll simply tell him you tried to get up and sneak back to your quarters. He’ll drug your stubborn ass into oblivion.” He smiled innocently. “And when you wake up, I’ll be here…wiping your delicate brow.” The smile faded. “Stop being an jackass, John. Things will go easier for you in the long run, I promise.”

I was mad, furious even, but more than that I was scared. I could admit it to myself even if I couldn’t to anyone else. I lifted the pillow and put it over my face. “Go away, McKay.” I hesitated and gritted my teeth. “Please.”

“No.”

“Rodney….”

“No.”

“You son of a….”

“No.”

McKay was right…I didn’t stop being a jackass and things, consequently, did not go well for me. To say the least.

I made it out of the infirmary after one more day. That was one solid day of McKay. He brought his laptop and worked at my bedside. Zelenka dropped by to remind him of the routine staff meeting, and Rodney decided to hold it in my room. Sitting on the foot of my bed, he ruthlessly browbeat those who would let him, sniped gleefully with Dr. Z, and bad-mouthed an absent Kavanaugh to within an inch of his life. I was curious to know if Rodney picked his teeth with the spines he ripped out of his people, but I didn’t ask. At this point I wasn’t speaking to him.

Fat good that did me. He simply filled in my conversation for me. ‘Why, yes, Dr. McKay, you are the brightest and best mind in this or any galaxy.’ ‘Certainly, Dr. McKay, you can have my tray. After all, I’m on a clear liquid diet and no one deserves it more than you.’ ‘Yes, Dr. McKay, I teeter on the edge of male anorexia while you have the body of a Greek god and women all over Atlantis secretly lust after you.’

When I finally…finally…made it out of the infirmary I thought it would get better. It didn’t. When I opened the door in the morning, he was there. And he continued to be there every step of the day until the door shut behind me at night. He had a cafeteria cart on wheels loaded with his laptop computer and several other geek necessities. He actually worked while making my life a living hell. How’s that for multi-tasking? There was one hour where he absolutely had to be in the lab to take care of some emergency. That hour the son of a bitch actually had Zelenka followed me around and talk about him. Nonstop.

“Where you aware Rodney has two PhDs?”

I looked down at the short, fuzzy haired Czech and thought how easy it would be to get rid of him. Permanently. No one would even find the body. “Dr. Z,” I said with strained patience. “I like you. I do. Please don’t make me kill you, okay? I would regret it…eventually.”

Remarkably unfazed by the threat, he went on, “One in astrophysics naturally. The other in Women’s Studies, emphasis on the dominating matriarchal aspect of the homemaker.”

“You lie like a dog,” I exclaimed, startled.

“I do,” he admitted with a big grin. “But you think about him now, yes?” He tapped a finger to this temple. “Sneaky, sneaky.”

“Radek.” That stilled his finger. I’d never called him by his first name before. “I don’t want to think about him, okay? It’s not good for me, and it’s not good for the performance of my job. It’s just not good.” I walked on down the corridor, following Carson’s advice. An hour at a slow walk for the next few days to build up my strength.

“Ah, I see.” He followed me, finger pushing up his glasses…feet shuffling slightly. “Nothing is forever. Where I’m from….” His smile was wistful and more than a little sad. “We know this better than anyone. Nothing is forever.” He sighed, straightened, and winked, “Why you think we drink so much? Now…Rodney’s first pet was dog. Schroedinger was name. I’m not sure if this irony to Rodney or simply stupidity. Then later he had cat. Maybe he name cat Pavlov to even things out, yes?”

I didn’t kill him. That would be wrong. I know because I stopped at the office of Father Malloy, the chaplain, and asked him. He and Zelenka had a good chortle over it and shared a shot of Smurf piss. I, naturally, got jack shit. Doctor’s orders.

By the time the walk was over I was more than ready to hit my bunk and giving strong consideration to kicking Bates back a grade and promoting Zelenka to his position. Civilian or not, the man was the sneakiest, most malevolent…no one would cross him. Ever. The hell with engineering, he belonged in security. Actually, he belonged in the Spanish Inquisition, but details…details.

I was lying on my stomach, the light at a soft gloom, and on the verge of falling asleep when the knock came. God, no. Just…please…no more. I didn’t answer and hoped against hope the lock held.

“Sheppard, do you really want me to use your trick to open a locked door?” came the distant and muffled voice. “It seems only fair really. Quid pro quo. Hold on. Let me give it a try.”

That’s all I needed. Hundreds of gallons of fire retardant foam filling the room. Perfect end to a perfect day. I triggered the door with a mental command and watched warily as McKay catapulted in. He wasn’t in any special hurry. He catapulted everywhere. The man had more energy than a chihuahua with ADHD. Raced here, raced there. Bossed and pushed. Yeah, pushed. He never stopped with the goddamn pushing. “McKay,” I said grimly. “If you would kill me now, it would be the kinder thing to do. If you’re so hot to be my friend, just put the pillow over my face and finish me off. Go on…prove your friendship.”

“You’re talking to me again.” He beamed and patted me on top of my head. “Look at you…all grown up and mature.” Frowning, he used his fingers to pull at tufts of my hair. “Whoops, sorry. I seem to have flattened the Chia. Er…hmmm…I don’t seem to be helping matters. I think I’ve angered it. Perhaps a sacrifice is in order. What would a hair god like, I wonder.”

I pushed his hand away with a little more force than was necessary. “It’ll survive. Now what the hell do you want?”

Shaking his head at my bad manners, he retrieved his usual chair and pulled it up. Sitting, he handed me what he’d been carrying in his other hand. A video recorder. “Here.”

I accepted it grudgingly. “What’s this for?”

He looked up at the ceiling as if he were searching for the words, trying to get it just right. Looking back down at me, he and asked, “Did you think I didn’t notice? I mean, honestly, John. I was the one who sent the information burst back to Earth. Did you think I wouldn’t notice your only recording was for Sumner’s family?” I frowned and started to reply. He held up his hand and stopped me. “And do you think I don’t read mission reports? Seriously? Do you think I don’t know about what happened to you when those Lite-brite aliens tossed us into that dream world?” He quirked his lips ruefully. “I was kind of mad, you know…at first, that you didn’t invite me to your big party.” His voice was solemn. “Until I finished reading.”

“Teyla was there.” I turned the camera over in my hands. “She made me take her shopping. We went to a boutique.” I shuddered. “Hell, I can barely spell boutique.” But Teyla wasn’t my friend, not like Rodney. She was a helluva warrior, great team member, and, yeah, a friend…but not like Rodney. The last friends I’d had like him were at that party. I thought I’d learned my lesson. Goddamnit…I really thought. I sat up and laid the camera down on the bed.

“She was,” he said, so blandly that I knew his thoughts weren’t far off from my own. “And so I hear was a tracksuit only a member of the Village People could have loved. I’m sorry I missed that.” There was a glint in his eye. “So very, very sorry.”

“I’ll bet,” I snorted. “So what’s the camera for?”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought that was abundantly clear. It’s a recorder. You record with it. So what if there’s no one on Earth. There’s somebody here…probably a few somebodies. Tell us something, say goodbye if you want. It might make you feel better. The Wraith aren’t gone, you know. They’ll be back. If that’s too difficult, do a strip-tease. We’ll sell it to all the lonely desperate women who fear my animal magnetism too much to approach me.” He put his feet up companionably on the bed. “I told my sister that I had family here.” Shifting his shoulders, he reddened slightly. “And I do. So do you, John. And no matter how much you don’t want to see that, no matter how much more frightening that makes things for you, it’s not going to change.”

I stared at him, then shook my head. “You died, Rodney. You died.”

“But only temporarily,” he said breezily. “And didn’t the universe conspire to resurrect the glory that is McKay? Yes, indeed it did. Who knows? Dr. Jackson ascended and I have more brilliance, compassion and soul in my pinky toe. I may very well be eternal.” He patted my knee consolingly. “Not you of course, sadly. The hair alone would keep you out. Vanity, it’s not an attribute of us higher beings.”

It wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t. He hadn’t been there…okay, yeah, he had…but he didn’t know. He just didn’t know. I shook my head again. “No, McKay. No.”

His jaw tightened. “I watched Peter die, you know, or had you forgotten?”

“No,” I exhaled harshly. “I didn’t forget.”

“And for a memorable two hours and sixteen minutes I thought you had died…from a bomb I had made. Personally.” He leaned forward, resting elbows on his legs. “Or maybe you thought that was a lot of fun for me. Maybe you thought I was throwing a party. Cheering. Look at my warheads go. Oh, sure, Major Sheppard had to die, but that’s a small price to pay. Gee, there goes another one. Look at all the pretty colors. Is that what you pictured in your feeble little mind, because I’m truly curious to know.”

“No, I didn’t think you threw a party.” I felt like I was fifteen again and if I’d been standing I would’ve toed the carpet sullenly. “But, Rodney, I did have a party and my party’s pretty damn big. It filled the apartment. And my boxes are full, all right? Full. There’s no more room.”

He furrowed his brow over that one, but let it go. “Okaaaay. Fine. I see only one way to fix this. You interested?”

I sucked my upper lip and said with reluctance, “I…can’t. I just can’t.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re embracing this wholeheartedly. Here’s the plan.” He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ll let you die first.”

Some days I understood McKay’s master plans and some days I didn’t. And then there were days like this where you felt as if you’d been hit with a two by four from just hearing one. “What? You’ll…what?”

“You get to die first. That way if we run into anymore floaty, bothersome aliens, you can come to my party. You and Peter.” He curves his lips into a crooked, rather sad smile. “And Brendan and Abrams. Hey, my party’s getting bigger all the time. Am I the host with the most or what?” He straightened and clapped his hands. “Now…do we have a deal?”

“Rodney,” I said with exasperation, “it’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is…if you let it be. So do we have a deal or do I need to line up Kavanaugh and Pyongg for Sheppard shifts? There’s so much about my life you haven’t heard yet. Fascinating, really. I should write an autobiography. Of course, after I’m finished with you, you’ll be able to write it.” He nudged my ribs with his foot. “I won’t list you as co-author, but I’ll give you a nice mention in the acknowledgments…if there’s room.” He grinned and then said with some exasperation of his own. “Jesus, Sheppard, take the deal already. You’re so much damn work. Was I this much work? No, I think not. I thought you were dead. You showed up. I punched you in the nose. All was well. Why can’t you be more like me?”

Why indeed?

“He broke it, didn’t he, Beckett? That son of a bitch broke my nose.” Eyes already beginning to raccoon slightly glared at me over his cupped hand.

“It’ll be well nigh impossible to say, Rodney,” Carson drawled, “if you don’t move your bloody hand!” He tugged at the offending appendage and snorted at the small trickle of blood. “Yes, well, let me fetch one entire cotton ball and I think this medical emergency will be over.”

As Beckett headed for a supply cabinet, McKay hissed at me, “Hitting a defenseless astrophysicist…I hope you feel better.”

“Actually,” I admitted truthfully, “I kind of do. That was good advice, Rodney. Thanks.”

He scowled. “You’re still a son of a bitch. I know I didn’t hit you this hard.”

“You knocked me on my ass,” I reminded patiently. “In front of the entire control room crew, including the women. Women who I imagine now won’t sleep with me because they think I’m a wimp.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he said pleased, then scowled again. “But that’s not the point. I’m a gentle and defenseless scientist. You’re a goon. There’s no comparison.”

“No, there isn’t, is there?” I grinned. For the first time in two days. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but we had a start and that was more than I imagined I could have. I couldn’t forget…no matter how desperately I wanted to, but I could completely and utterly ignore common sense and go with McKay’s plan. I got to go first. It was naïve and idiotic and so the fuck what? If I wanted to believe it, I would. If I could build all those boxes in my head, I could construct one helluva delusion if I wanted. And I did…

I wanted it a lot.

McKay studied me suspiciously. “You’re not going to hug me or anything, are you? I mean, okay, if you absolutely have to…for the betterment of your mental health…I’ll close my eyes and think of England. But could you wait until Carson’s not looking? I have a reputation to protect.”

“As a prickly, self-absorbed bastard?” I said amused.

“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers. Snap. Snap. “See, Major, this is why I like you. You understand me. You truly get the elaborate and wondrous paths of my mind.”

“I’ll put up with your annoying ass,” I translated helpfully.

He gave a lopsided grin. “That too.”

I sat beside him on the gurney and suddenly had a thought. The time-shifter had reset time about forty-eight hours, but not quite and what had happened that day…oh yeah. Right. “Hey, by the way, I want my T-shirt back.”

“What T-shirt?” he asked absently, touching a fingertip to the drying blood on his lip and making a face.

“The T-shirt you gave me, fair and square. The one contaminated with Goonus Americanus germs. I want it back.”

“I repeat,” he said blandly. “What T-shirt?”

The more things change….yeah. You know the rest.

The End