The last chapter!

DESERT ORKIDS
By TIPPER

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: AWAKENINGS

Rodney shifted, feeling sore, tired and bruised. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so decrepit. His mouth tasted like sand-paper and his back, arms and legs felt like someone had filled them with lead. More than anything, though, he just felt so old.

He turned his head, emitting an unintentional moan when he did so when his neck muscles protested.

Then, from somewhere nearby, he heard a soft, "Hey."

Rodney frowned. He didn't know that voice. It was scratchy and low-pitched, almost gravelly. He didn't know anyone with that voice.

He came awake a little more, and sounds began to differentiate themselves in his ears. Beeps of machines, the soft wheeze of a respirator, the soft whoosh of air conditioning. At the same time, he realized he could smell sweat and antiseptic. And something old. Which, quite possibly, could be him.

"Hey," the voice called again, still in a low, painful sounding whisper. "You awake?"

He turned towards the voice, and, with great effort, started to open his eyes. He saw nothing for a moment, just white and pale blue fuzz. He blinked a few times, trying to get the crust off his eyes. Slowly, he started to see shapes.

"Hey," the voice called again, and Rodney finally figured out it was from the next bed over. Bed. Infirmary. Home. He was home.

He forced his eyes open more, and saw a familiar face looking at him from the next bed over. It was pale and drained looking, and there were dark circles under the hazel eyes and a yellowing bruise across the chin, but the face was still recognizable. And the hair—the hair was very recognizable. Bloodless, chapped lips lifted in a crooked smile.

"Hey," Sheppard said for the fourth time. It was his voice. It didn't sound like him. Either Rodney had cotton in his ears, or Sheppard must have been very, very sick.

"Hey," he tried to call back. Nothing came out but a puff of air. Oh, that's not good. He tried to swallow, tried to generate saliva, but his mouth stayed painfully dry. Damn. Failing, he raised a hand—which turned out to be really difficult, because it hurt to move anything—and gave a half wave. He let the hand fall almost immediately across his stomach—that had been exhausting. He closed his eyes again.

"You awake?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney frowned. Did he not see the hand? Was he blind? That had taken work to wave that!

Sneering slightly, he lifted his hand again, and this time, managed to give Sheppard the finger.

Sheppard's smile widened. "You're awake," he said happily.

Smart man, that Colonel. Coulda been MENSA.

"I'm bored," Sheppard whispered then.

Rodney manfully opened his eyes again, and blinked at the Colonel. He opened his mouth to say something, then grimaced. It just hurt too much. His eyes shut against the hurt.

And then something hard, cold and painful hit his cheek.

Ow! What the hell? He felt whatever it was slide down his cheek, past his ear and then pool at the base of his neck. Ick.

He opened his eyes again, and saw Sheppard had rolled partially on his side. One arm was dangling over the side of the bed—he'd thrown whatever it was.

He mouthed the words, "what the hell?"

Sheppard smiled. "Ice chip. Beckett won't let me have water, so I figure, you can't either." The free arm grabbed at a small cup near his other hand, and he pulled out another piece of ice. "Open up."

Rodney's eyes opened wide, and he opened his mouth to say no...just as the second ice chip skipped off the tip of his nose and landed somewhere near his shoulder. Gah.

"Missed again," Sheppard sighed. "You'd think, with a mouth as big as yours, it'd be an easy target. This time, don't round your lips."

McKay shut his mouth firmly, trying to convey his thorough annoyance at this juvenile behavior. What was this, fifth grade? Did he...Ow!

That one had hit his chin, and was now melting with the other one down at the base of his neck. He shivered at the chill it induced. That rotten son of a—

"I'm just going to keep throwing them," Sheppard warned cheekily. "Trust me, you'll appreciate the ice. Then you can talk to me." He fished another ice chip out of the cup and lifted it.

Gritting his teeth, Rodney considered his options. He hated giving in, but, truth be told, his mouth did feel like something fuzzy had died in there. He looked at Sheppard, and, still radiating as much annoyance as possible, opened his mouth. Sheppard grinned like a kid at the hoops in an arcade.

"Right. Watch this. Nothing but net!"

The ice chip hit McKay's nose again, bounced off, and, amazingly, landed in his mouth. He choked a little when it slid too far down, but he managed to get it up onto his tongue. A moment later, he was relishing the coolness slipping down his throat. Like magic, he also felt saliva building up in his mouth. He couldn’t remember ever relishing something as common as that before.

The joy lasted until he heard the chuckling from the next bed over. "Well, hit the backboard, but still went in. All's relative, right?" Sheppard leaned back on his pillow, but kept his head tilted towards McKay's bed. After a moment, he sighed and asked, "So, can you talk yet?"

Oh, he was so tempted to not even try. Just to drive Sheppard nuts, but...aw hell, who was he kidding? He loved talking. He tried to clear his throat, and was gratified to hear a little noise.

"Maybe," he croaked out. It wasn't much louder than a whisper, and sounded more like "may-hee," but it was something. It also explained why Sheppard sounded like he did—probably hadn't woken up much earlier than he had.

Of course, now he wanted another ice chip. But he wasn't going to subject himself to being a basketball hoop for a bored Colonel again. Maybe someone else would come around...

Speaking of, usually someone was there when he woke up. Where was everyone?

He frowned and tried to lift his head...but it was too heavy. Damn it, what if something was wrong? Was he needed? Why hadn't they come? Were Ronon and Teyla okay? Had something happened to them? Were they...oh, please, no...they had to be alive!

"What is it?" Sheppard asked.

He tried to articulate, but his voice was coarse again. He tried to move; he needed to move. Needed to know! What if—

Sheppard threw another ice chip. It hit his forehead. He growled, glaring at the colonel. Sheppard just smiled.

"You're wondering where everyone is, aren't you?" the colonel asked. Rodney blinked. How the hell did he know?

"You're not the only mind reader," Sheppard said then, smiling knowingly. "I know how you think, too." He rested his head down on the pillow again. "It's night. Teyla and Ronon are over there," Sheppard gave a weak gesture towards the other side of the room, "sleeping. They're both fine—better than us, apparently, though Ronon had a bullet in his shoulder. Teyla's just sleeping here because we're here. And you're not going to wake them to make sure, because they both looked terrible last time they came over. Worried about us, apparently, even though Carson said we'd be fine. Oh, speaking of, Carson's asleep in the next room. Everyone's sleeping. Except me. And now you."

Rodney frowned. Still, if this was the first time he was awake, shouldn't someone check to make sure he knew the year or something? Or ask him who the president is? Of course, the US might have a new president by now. He never was all that clear on how often those guys were elected. Four years? Six? He was pretty sure Bush had been president for a really, really long time. Like, before Clinton. Or was that a different Bush? Eh, who knew—American politicians seemed to change more often than he changed his shirt. Even so, if this was the first time he was awake, surely he should be being checked out by someone. And not someone with hair that defied gravity and a penchant for bad singing.

"It's not the first time you've woken," Sheppard told him. "Though I think it's the first time you've actually been awake. We’ve been here a few days. And now you can keep me company. Ice chip?"

"No," Rodney croaked finally, gratified to finally make a real word. "You'll take my eye out." Ah, there was his voice. Sounded terrible, but it was there.

Sheppard's grin broadened. "Now, now, be grateful. I didn't drag your ass halfway across a desert just so you can chastise my ice chip throwing skills."

Rodney gave him a sidelong glance, then grimaced. "How far?"

"Far. Horribly, horribly far. And you owe me. Seriously. This one's going to take much sucking up, I'm thinking. Food fetching in the mess, backing me up with Weir, taking my place on maintenance checks..." Sheppard was staring up at the ceiling dreamily, ticking off the things he expected Rodney to do on his fingers. Rodney groaned, especially on the last. Everyone hated maintenance checks, but Elizabeth never let the senior staff delegate down.

"You're evil."

"Yes. Although, right now," Sheppard eyed him again, "mostly I'm bored. Been waiting for you to wake up for ages." He gave a quick smile, then leaned back and turned his head away so Rodney couldn’t see his face clearly.

Rodney smiled—he couldn't help it. It was as good as the Colonel saying he'd missed having him around (which was why Sheppard had hid his face, the dork). When Sheppard finally looked back at him, though, Rodney quickly doused his smile before Sheppard saw it and snarled again.

"Been waiting to torment me, you mean."

"Exactly," Sheppard grinned.

Ass hat.

"Well...," Rodney stared up at the ceiling, and considered asking the next question, then decided he had to. "Before you do, can you tell me what happened? After I passed out, I mean? Did they get Delian?"

Sheppard was silent for a moment, and when Rodney looked at him, he saw no smile on the other man's face. Finally, Sheppard shrugged, staring up at the ceiling again.

"We got rescued," the colonel said in a monotone. "And Delian's dead."

Rodney stared at him a moment, then gave a nod. "Oh." He'd get the real story from the mission reports later.

"We actually haven't heard anything from the planet for a few days," Sheppard continued. "I think it's worrying Teyla."

"Why?"

"She says Jaquette and Stella got them away from Baylor's men, and that Jaquette had been shot and is probably dead. Plus, it looks like the Orkidian troops were gearing up for a military coup of some kind, so who knows how many more could be dead. Of course, with Delian dead, maybe they didn't succeed. Then again, Perrit's dead too, so..." Sheppard grimaced, and turned to look at Rodney.

Rodney was wide awake now. Too much information. And yet the only thing he could think about was...

Jaquette was dead?

Sheppard grimaced more deeply. "Sorry."

Rodney looked away, up at the ceiling.

"We didn't do it, Rodney," Sheppard said then. "They did it to themselves."

Rodney didn't care. He'd liked her—she'd kissed him. He'd also come to like Perrit. Despite everything.

He frowned, and turned to look at Sheppard. The colonel met his gaze, then sighed.

"Yeah," Sheppard said quietly. "I know."

Rodney didn't know what the Colonel knew, but...then again...maybe he did.

Sheppard didn't say anything for a while, and Rodney sort of appreciated the silence. After a few minutes, though, it started to get oppressive.

"Sheppard?" he called.

"Yeah?" The colonel sounded cheerful again, like he'd been waiting for Rodney to call his name.

"Let's not go to another desert planet for a while."

Sheppard's face cracked into a large grin. "Now that I can agree with."

"Sheppard?"

"Yeah?"

Rodney waited a moment, then, turning his head to look at the other man, he gave a small smile. "Thanks for dragging me across the desert, saving my life and all that."

Sheppard stared at him a moment, then sighed. "Oh please. You just said that so I wouldn't make you do maintenance checks."

Rodney's smile grew crooked. Nuts. "Did it work?"

"No."

Rodney sighed. "Worth a shot."

"And besides the maintenance checks, the backing up with Weir, and the food fetching," John lifted his hand to tick off another finger, "Did I mention you're going to have to save me at least nine times before I'm considering us even?"

It was almost a month later before the first communication came from Orkidia. Councilor Stella was the one who sent it, and it was a gracious request to restart the original trade agreements. Elizabeth decided to go and negotiate it, with a fully armed escort. Rodney had also downloaded enough information from his time with the weapon to disarm it, if need be, using the Jumper consoles. With that sort of back-up, Elizabeth felt it acceptable to deal with them again.

After all, Orkidia had no friends. Perhaps Atlantis could be the first. One thing the expedition knew well—it was how much one needed friends.

Sheppard's Team did not go with her, although Teyla requested to go. Elizabeth, however, decided to leave them out of it for now. Just until she knew what was what.

She came back with interesting news. The Orkidian government was still in place, but some changes had been made. Now all officials were elected, two from each province, and efforts were being made to renew contacts with some of their old allies along with Atlantis. They were still sorting out who would be the new Ambassador, though several people had stepped up to throw their hats in the ring. Election of the Chief Councilor was also to take place in the next moon's cycle. Stella had finally won her argument that one was needed.

Most interestingly, Councilor Stebbin's son had apparently been named the new leader of the Orkidian army. Even more curiously, the army appeared to have accepted this without complaint. Elizabeth admitted she didn't know the background behind that one, but that, from the looks of it, the Orkidians had successfully survived the coup.

She also had news that Councilor Jaquette was still alive and kicking. She'd even greeted Elizabeth in the Council Chambers, though she was in a wheelchair still. The news had Rodney so happy, he actually didn't snap at anyone in the labs for a whole afternoon. (Zelenka had later confided that he'd found that exceptionally creepy).

All in all, it seemed that life on both sides of the wormhole could now return to normal.

Except that the Orkidians had requested help to repair the Vandan water pump.

Elizabeth left it up to Rodney to decide whether he would do it.

And for once, he wished she hadn't given him the choice. The irony nearly killed him.

The water pipes were easily replaced by almost identical pipes they'd found in Atlantis, and repairing the consoles wasn't too difficult either. There really was nothing they hadn't seen before in the workings. Still, it was probably going to take more than a few days, but it had to be done, and the sooner the better. The Vandans were on the verge of a severe drought, having been almost completely without water for two and a half months.

Really, in the end, there hadn't been a choice. They couldn't just leave them like that.

A good sized science team had come with Sheppard's Team to help with the work, including one more hanger on, who had come because of the water Rodney and Sheppard had drunk when they'd been near death from dehydration. Carson was curious about the properties of the pills that had been dropped into the water, which were clearly restorative and better than any oral electrolyte substitute they'd so far developed. He was currently standing over to one side, mixing solutions together and looking fascinated by whatever results he was getting. Meanwhile, John was standing on the other side of the water pump, talking with Ronon and Councilor Stebbin's son, discussing military things from the sounds of it. Teyla was talking with Stella, the two of them just inside the door in a patch of sunlight, looking like two women having a gossip session over tea. And Rodney...

"It's fairly straightforward," he said, slotting in the new crystals and fiddling with the matrices around them, "once you get the hang of it. The Ancients...Ancestors...worked to create clean and simple designs when it came to technology. Of course," he gave a small shrug, "that made it rather simple for others to steal." He twisted his lips, then tilted his head slightly to see a set of tiny wires hidden behind another crystal. He reached up to reset the broken ones.

"The workmanship of the crystals is really beautiful," Jaquette said, lying on the floor next to him. They were both on their backs, looking up at the underside of the console Rodney was fixing. "I can see why you admire the Ancestors so."

Rodney gave a snort, "Admire, sure," he repeated. "But never idolize."

Jaquette gave him a sidelong glance, then looked up again. "Should I ask?"

"No."

She gave a small smile, then looked at him again. He worked a couple more minutes, then slid his eyes to look at her. She smiled more.

"You've a very delicate touch with this stuff, don't you?" she asked coyly. "Considering how you clump around the rest of the time, it's quite a lovely dichotomy." Her smile turned very wicked, "One worth exploring."

He stared at her a moment, because he had no idea how to answer that. Finally, he just huffed a breath and muttered something about delicate workmanship requiring a light hand. Otherwise, he was likely to blow them up. Jaquette laughed.

He didn't think it was that funny. Mostly because he knew from experience.

She was watching him again, then rested her head against his shoulder. It was sort of annoying, seeing as he was using that arm. But he also didn't tell her to move it.

"Will you visit again?" she asked quietly after a few more moments. "Maybe...for longer periods? Really long periods?"

Rodney met her gaze for a few moments, then looked up again. "I, uh...I don't..." He frowned, then let his hands fall to his chest where they had been working on slotting a new crystal. "I can't, Jaquette. I love my home."

"Atlantis."

"Yes."

"I'd love to see it someday."

"You could visit us there. I think Elizabeth would be okay with the Chief Councilor visiting. She likes that sort of thing."

Jaquette smiled some more, and gave a small nod. "Maybe." Her smile faded. "But it wouldn't work, would it?"

"What?"

"Us. Being anything. It wouldn't work."

Rodney closed his eyes. Part of him still didn't totally understand why she liked him. What it was she saw. But he did understand what she was saying now. There was long distance...and there was long distance. He'd only tried it once, with a girl he'd met at Northeastern. She'd been his age, but just a college sophomore while he was on his first doctorate. She stayed in Boston after he left, and, though they'd tried to keep up the relationship...

And this time there would be planets and a desert between them. A desert he hated.

"Rodney?" Jaquette asked, her voice soft.

"Yeah?"

"How about just having dinner once in a while? You could just come for dinner."

He gave a small smile. "With spice, or without spice?"

"How can you eat anything without spice? It would be so bland!"

"You taste the real food that way. There's something to be said for natural flavors."

"Natural flavors? Doctor Rodney McKay, I only ate plain meal once when I was a kid, and I hated it. Don't make me go back there."

"Well, I don't like spice. It's like eating needles. And no citrus. And I also don't much like anything that has too much cream. Unless it’s a dessert." He started fixing the console again, tugging at some switches to release another burned out crystal.

Jaquette snorted softly, then gave a small laugh. "You're going to be difficult, aren't you?"

"Hey, you invited me." He put a working crystal in his mouth to hold it, and went back to toggling the switches.

She sighed wistfully. "Yes. And now I'm wondering if I'm crazy."

He pulled the crystal out of his mouth. "I've been wondering that since I met you."

She looked at him, and smiled wickedly. "You also wondered if I was capable of killing a man, maybe even thought I'd had." She leaned closer. "Do you still?"

He stared at her a moment, then looked up at the console. "Have I ever told you about the time I blew up five-sixths of a solar system?"

The end of the day saw the Jumper gliding swiftly over the dunes, headed back to the Stargate, the setting sun warming Rodney’s legs through the glass where he sat in the co-pilot’s seat. The front of the Jumper was quiet, his team all obviously musing over thoughts of their own. There were soft murmurs of conversations floating from the scientists and Carson in the back, but nothing discernable. It was nice, for some reason. Comfortable.

“So,” Sheppard drawled, casually turning them to the right towards the silver circle in the distance, “did you ask her out?”

So much for comfortable.

“Who?” Rodney asked, already feeling the flush in his cheeks.

“Oh, that was weak, even for you,” Ronon muttered, kicking the back of Rodney’s chair.

“I would wager that the Chief Councilor is the one who asked Rodney out,” Teyla opined airily from behind Sheppard, “not the other way around.”

“I’ll have you know,” Rodney said, turning in the chair to glare at her, “that, if there had been any talk of going out, any discussions about future dinners would have been mutually broached.”

“Mutually broached?” Sheppard repeated. “Right. So,” he tilted his head, “you didn’t ask her out then.”

“Whether I did or not, it’s none of your business!” Rodney crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

“She asked him out,” Ronon interpreted. “And he got scared.”

“Hey! I never said—“

“Did you say yes?” Teyla asked. She sounded oddly excited about the prospect, as if, once she knew the answer, she’d tell everyone she knew. He stared at her, suddenly terrified of the idea of this getting around Atlantis. It was none of their business! Elizabeth would start giving him those creepy sly smiles of hers, Radek would start snickering in the lab, Miko would start crying--it just couldn’t happen.

“I’m not talking about this,” he said huffily, crossing his arms even more tightly and turning to look out the front. He could feel the seam down the back of the jacket stretching dangerously.

“You said no?” Sheppard said then, sounding truly amazed. “Why?”

“I never said that!” Rodney snapped, glaring at him now. “I never said anything!”

“You said yes!” Teyla said, all smiles. Rodney lowered his head when he realized there were no longer any conversations going on in the back. Great.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” he said weakly.

“What are you going to wear?” Teyla asked then.

This time, Rodney turned the swivel chair around fully, so that he could favor her with the darkest look he could imagine. She just smiled. Teyla had the bad habit of turning into a girl at the most inopportune moments.

“The blue shirt is nice,” she said. “The button up one. If I were you, that is what I would wear.”

He felt the glare he was trying to maintain crumble completely in the face of her oblivious gaze. It reminded him of the last time he’d tried to glare at his sister, which resulted in her just completely ignoring it, leaving it with absolutely no power at all. When had he lost the ability to glare at Teyla? Oh God…he had another sister. She used to give him pointers on what to wear on dates as well.

“Girls like jackets, too,” Sheppard noted absently. “You got a jacket?”

“Of course I have a jacket,” Rodney snapped. “You’ve seen it! I wear it all the time—hell I was wearing it at dinner the night we hijacked that Jumper after the Asurans took Atlantis, remember?”

“Really?” Sheppard looked honestly surprised, glancing at him. “Huh.”

“Is it dark blue?” Ronon asked, sounding like he too was having trouble picturing it. How was it possible the Satedan noticed what his jacket looked like, but Sheppard hadn't? Ronon wore the same coat every day.

Rodney just glared at Ronon, then back out the front window. “Are we home yet?” He swore they should have reached the Stargate by now…unless Sheppard had slowed down.

He pulled up the HUD with a thought, and the velocity showed as normal.

“Stop that,” Sheppard chastised, taking the screen down. “I’m not going slower. You’re just paranoid.”

“This just feels like it’s taking a long time,” Rodney muttered.

“I do not like that jacket,” Teyla said. “I think you should just wear the shirt. And dark trousers. Do you have any that are not faded?”

Rodney looked down at the black trousers he was wearing, which, indeed, were more a dark gray at this point. Bits of sand dust clung to the seams, and there was a dark patch which had probably been blood.

“I can’t believe you have a date,” Sheppard said then, half laughing out the statement. Rodney’s face turned bright red, and he shot his darkest look at the man. Who wasn’t paying attention, since he was ‘driving.’ Damn him.

“Just because she likes me and not you…” Rodney sneered.

“That still confuses me,” Ronon said from his chair, and it sounded like he was yawning as he said it. “Normally, you repel people until they get to know you. And sometimes after.”

Rodney just rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps,” Carson said, strolling forward to lean on the bulkhead doors, “the lovely lady is suffering from some unhappy malady that prevents her from seeing who our Rodney really is. Could be genetic. Did she show any other signs of mental deficiency?”

“Hey!”

“She was somewhat flighty,” Sheppard said.

“And, at times, oddly disassociated,” Teyla said.

“I thought she had killed people,” Ronon stated matter-of-fact.

“Hey!” Rodney said. “She didn’t! And she’s not! And…just, hey!”

“There is some evidence there,” Carson mused, tapping his chin with his finger. “I’ll talk to Kate about it when I get back. Maybe we can—“

“Hey!” Rodney stood up, pointing at Carson. “Don’t even think about it!”

Carson just raised both eyebrows, as innocent as you please, then smiled. “You are so easy,” he grinned.

Rodney just stared at him, then at the other three, and then turned to face forward, crossing his arms again as the Jumper burst into laughter. The Stargate was right in front of them now, and Sheppard leaned over to dial.

When Rodney finally sat down again, just before they went through the event horizon to Atlantis, he found Sheppard meeting his gaze with a soft smile.

“What?” he said. He sat stick straight, arms still crossed, anger radiating off of him in waves.

“You got the girl.”

Rodney blinked. Then his shoulders sort of slumped as the words sunk in, and awe replaced the annoyance he felt. He’d gotten the girl. He’d actually gotten the girl! True, it wasn’t like anything could ever happen, but, hey! For the first time in his life, he’d gotten the—

“Now I am thinking the white shirt with the blue stripes,” Teyla suggested. “But not tan pants. That was a terrible combination.”

When crossing through a wormhole, no one can hear you scream.

The End

Yes! Amazingly, fantastically, wonderfully, it is done! The experiment in mystery fanfic novel writing is complete!

Thank you everyone so, so much for reviewing! I would probably never have finished it without the feedback (this was the story that didn't want to be written—I really did stop writing it over a year ago, around the 2/3 point, so the reviews were a real kick in the pants to get me to finish it). Oh, and it was pre-Katie Brown when I started, whom I adore, but I already had the plot thought out and so...c'est la vie, eh? Anyhoo...

Really, thank you very much. I really hope you enjoyed it, and that the mystery kept you guessing.

Tipper