SGA FIC: Night Shift

[scribblinlenore]

This is comment fic I'm posting to my own journal for organizational purposes.

Title: Night Shift
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Summary: Their secret is safe with Lorne.

Note: For sheafrotherdon's "Hush! John and Rodney are sleeping!" challenge.



Night Shift
by Lenore

Lorne really didn't mind being on night detail. The control room was oddly peaceful when it was empty, and there was an unlimited supply of coffee, by Colonel Sheppard's order, and mostly nothing happened. Mostly.

Just past 0300, one of McKay's physicists--Dr. Sandrome, Lorne thought his name was--came skidding to a stop by Lorne's chair, panting and pasty-faced.

Lorne snapped to attention. "What?"

The answer came out a breathless garble, but Lorne did manage to pick out "dangerous gas" and "residential quarters."

"How did that happen?" Lorne demanded, frowning.

Sandrome got suddenly very interested in his boots, mumbling something about, "Repairs to the environmental systems might not have gone quite as well as we thought." And then more insistently, "It's fixed now! But--"

"Right. Dangerous gas." Lorne pulled up the internal sensors.

Sandrome pointed. "It's concentrated in this area."

The corridor where many of the senior staff had their quarters.

Lorne tapped his radio. "Major Lorne to Colonel Sheppard." No answer. "Lorne to Dr. McKay."

Sandrome squinted at the display. "There's no life sign in Dr. McKay's room. God. I hope he's in one of the labs--"

"I'll have my men and a medical team assemble here. I need you to brief them." Lorne was already halfway to the door.

"Wait. You don't want me to check on Dr. McKay?" Sandrome sounded almost relieved.

Lorne sprinted to Sheppard's quarters, firing off orders as he went, organizing teams to go room to room and check on everyone who might have been affected. "Start with Colonel Carter. I'll check on Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay." He emphasized this last part more than once.

Protecting your commanding officer, especially from himself, was your first responsibility when you were second in charge, that was the way Lorne had always figured it.

He overrode security on Sheppard's door and stepped inside. The Colonel lay on his side, blankets slipped down around his waist. Dr. McKay was tucked closed against him, the bed just barely big enough for the two of them. Sheppard had his arm stretched protectively across McKay's chest, and Lorne couldn't remember the Colonel ever looking so much at peace.

For a moment, Lorne stalled there, painfully aware that this was something he was never meant to see. But the Colonel's breathing was shallow, and McKay's pallor didn't look too good, a sickly shade of gray, and that kicked him into action. He shook them both, but they didn't stir.

"Dr. Keller," he called over the radio. "I need you in Colonel Sheppard's quarters right away."

"It'd be better to have him in the infirmary. I'll send a transport team to--"

"No," he cut her off. "Just you. Here. And Doc? Bring enough medical supplies for two."

There was a moment's silence and then, "Oh. On my way."

Whatever surprise she might have felt finding that McKay was the mystery person in Sheppard's bed was confined to a momentary widening of the eyes, and then she quickly got to work, hypodermics and oxygen for both men.

Sheppard came around first, coughing and groggy, and then his eyes flew open wide, and he pushed the mask off his face. "Rodney?"

"He's had a bad reaction to the gas," Keller told him, "but the treatment should start to take effect soon."

McKay lay unmoving, just as deathly pale as when Lorne had found them.

Sheppard put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, McKay. Up and at 'em. Looks like we've got work to do."

"Colonel," Keller said gently, "you really should keep your mask on."

He shook his head absently, all his focus on McKay. "I'm fine."

At last, McKay started to cough, and his eyes fluttered open, and he looked around wildly.

"Just relax. We've had some kind of problem--" Sheppard looked to Lorne, who filled in the details.

McKay managed to push himself up into a sitting position. "Which moron screwed up the--"

Sheppard put the oxygen mask firmly back into place. "Breathe now. Make whoever's responsible rue the day he was born later."

McKay shot him a death glare, and Sheppard glared right back, not backing down an inch. Lorne started to fidget, because once again, intruding on something private.

"Well," Keller said, apparently feeling the same awkwardness, "I'd better get back to the infirmary. I'll have more patients to treat. If you start to feel light-headed or have any other symptoms, call me immediately."

She left, and Lorne piped up, "Sir, I'll go see if--"

"Just a second, and I'll come with you." Sheppard quickly pulled on some pants.

"I need to check on those idiots who work for me--" But when McKay tried to stand, his knees buckled, and Sheppard was quickly at his side, helping him sit back down.

"Stay here," Sheppard told him. "I've got this one."

McKay protested, "I should at least go back to my--"

"Rodney."

They exchanged looks, and it was as clear as any spoken conversation: I don't want you to get court martialed because of me. Yeah, well, I don't want you to fall over and damage that brain of yours that you're always insisting is crucial to everyone's survival.

Lorne carefully studied the floor at his feet.

Sheppard ran a hand over McKay's head, smoothing his flyaway hair into place. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

They headed to the control room, Lorne filling Sheppard in on what he'd done so far in response to the emergency.

"Major," Sheppard said stiffly. "I never meant to put you in this position, but I did, and it's your duty to report what you saw. I just want you to know that I understand--"

Lorne broke in, "It's too bad this situation came while you and Dr. McKay were going over the MALP data on PCX-M34. Hopefully, it won't delay the mission any."

"Lorne," Sheppard said tiredly.

"Come on, sir. We'd better go check on the scientists before they find some other way to try and kill us all." He ventured a smile.

Sheppard's mouth turned up in the predictable smirk, but there was very real gratitude in his eyes.

Lorne could just imagine the scene later on when Sheppard got back to his room, McKay frazzled and loudly peppering him with questions, obnoxious with worry. If Lorne thought that was kind of sweet, he was smart enough to keep it to himself.

Comments

Re: Edit: Night Shift - John/Rodney, Lorne

[scribblinlenore.livejournal.com]

...which is probably why you were in the SGC in the first place.

So true! They're not the conventional military, are they? *g*