Fic: The Night Before Christmas (Gen, G)

[sgasesa_admin]

Title: The Night Before Christmas
Author: rabidfan
Recipient: friendshipper
Rating: G
Summary: It was Christmas Eve. They should have been allowed to go to the party. That was their excuse.

A/N: friendshipper requested a friendship heavy piece involving McKay and Sheppard, with a healthy dollop of H/C on top. Happy Christmas, and I hope your New Year is a fine one.

I had the beta help of the wonderful icarusancalion, who tried to make this better than it is. Any failure is mine alone and should not reflect on her. Thank you, my friend, for your efforts.

The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Thump, drag. Mumbled cursing. Thump, drag. More cursing. Rodney shifted to a more upright position in bed. "Sheppard?" he called. "Is that you?" Of course it was Sheppard. Rodney couldn't help but smile. The 'thump', 'drag', 'curse' litany grew louder as it grew closer. Even though he couldn't see him Rodney knew it was Sheppard; dragging his broken leg forward with unfamiliar crutches, totally against Doctor's orders.

Sheppard had a remarkable repertoire of curse words. It was actually pretty impressive. "Okay, that was German and possibly Farsi. What did you do, go through a dozen Berlitz courses to learn just the curse words? Can you tell me what Zelenka says? I'm sure it's vile."

"I'm curse-fluent in over a dozen languages, and Zelenka doesn't swear," Sheppard said, his voice unexpectedly close.

"Sheppard?" Rodney wasn't pleased that his voice squeaked a little. He was naturally tense. He was helpless! Blind! A helpless, blind hero that had saved Atlantis (or at least cargo bay four), of course he was tense. And put out. Did he have fawning minions catering to his every whim? He did not! That would require gratitude. One listless nurse paged through what sounded like a cheap paperback romance (he could tell by the quality of the paper as the pages turned, Sheppard could scoff all he liked) doing her best to ignore him.

"Yes, Rodney. It's me." Sheppard sounded winded. He wasn't supposed to be out of bed. Carson and Jennifer had ganged up on the two of them, insisting that they spend the night in the infirmary. Rodney was perfectly willing to let the medical staff make sure he didn't fall and cause himself further damage but Sheppard had been pissed. It was a surprise to Rodney as Sheppard wasn't anymore a "holiday" sort of person than he was. He'd mumbled something about Lorne and his personal allotment arriving on the Daedalus and lapsed into an angry silence. The drugs he'd been force-fed an hour ago hadn't loosened his tongue but had brought on a restlessness punctuated by a litany of sighs.
Rodney didn't need to see Sheppard to know that he was up to something. He knew it was in his best interest to ignore Sheppard. If Sheppard wanted to sneak doing God knows what that was his business. Rodney wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to get involved.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
"What are you doing out of bed?" Damn. It seemed as if the invisible rope linking Rodney to Sheppard didn't loose it's hold just because Rodney couldn't see what Sheppard was up to. Rodney hoped what ever it had been included bringing back snacks. He was starving. Seconds away from an embarrassing hypoglycemic reaction. "Did you bring snacks? Coffee?"
"Here." Sheppard closed Rodney's hands over a glassine bag he'd no doubt "liberated" on his travels. "I'm sick of listening to you whine." He huffed as he shifted around the narrow alcove they'd been settled into. It was fairly secluded and gave them some privacy that both appreciated. "And you're not supposed to have coffee. You know how the doc's get about mixing meds with caffeine or alcohol."

Rodney used some of his own inventive cursing to damn whoever said one's hearing compensated for the loss of sight. The sense of smell, however, undoubtedly improved. Rodney took a deep breath.

"Mmmm. Chocolate?" Rodney fumbled open the bag to taste. Fudge. Rodney loved fudge. Dense, chewy...good.

"Hmm." Rodney fumbled a hand out, waving the bag in Sheppard's direction. At least the direction he'd been in a few moments before.

"Ow!" Oh. Obviously not in the same place.

"Sorry, sorry." Rodney rattled the bag a little so Sheppard would see that he was just trying to share. Sharing wasn't Rodney's strong suit; he expected to be forgiven for any slight bruising that may have occurred while attempting it. "Try some of this fudge, Sheppard." Rodney rattled the bag again. "You sound like you could use some."

Sheppard's put upon sigh was enough to get Rodney to sit straighter still. "What is it?" He hated having these stupid bandages on his eyes. He wanted to see what was wrong with Sheppard. The fact that it was only a temporary inconvenience didn't do much to take away the irritation. "Are you in pain? You're moving around too much. Should I call Carson?"

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
"Carson is with the Athosians tonight. He'll be back tomorrow. You know that." Sheppard sighed again. "And no, I'm not in pain." Ha! Liar. Of course he was in pain. Sheppard had unwilling taken the drugs Jennifer had ordered for him before he started wandering around the infirmary. Still, he must really be feeling his injury now. He rattled the bag once more. "No, thank you." sigh

"You sound like you're in pain. You keep sighing." sigh "Okay, if you're not in pain, what's wrong?" This wasn't like Sheppard. Normally when he was holed up in sickbay he played some lame video game Ford had given him. He carried it around like a talisman. A remembrance, maybe. Or he'd sleep. Or nag the nurses into entertaining him. This was not like Sheppard at all. Something must be terribly wrong. Oh, God! "I'm going to be permanently blind, aren't I?!" Rodney felt panic rising in him like mercury in a thermometer. "Oh my God!" He started to yank at his covers, flailing to get out of bed. The lone nurse called over to Sheppard, asking if there was a problem. Sheppard assured her that everything was fine, just talking, no worries. Right.

"You're not blind now, Rodney." Sheppard sighed again. "You have flash burns. You know that. If you took the bandages off you'd see wekk enough. But don't. Jennifer would blame me and I'm not in the mood. You just need to rest your eyes for a couple of days. Stop flailing before you end up putting out one of my eyes."

"Flash burns, right." Rodney knew that. Just flash burns. Nothing permanent.

"Jesus, Rodney. At least you can walk," Sheppard had the gall to say. Rodney raised his chin and turned toward the thump, drag, followed by Sheppard's mumbled cursing.

"I could have been maimed for life!"

"It was a flash grenade. It's supposed to blind you. Be glad you'll be out of here in a few days," Sheppard said. There was a scraping sound, a metallic clatter. Sheppard swore again.

Pity he'd fallen over Sheppard trying to get to the emergency sink. Who knew the mans bones were so fragile?

"Maybe you should take more calcium." Rodney nodded in the direction he was sure Sheppard was standing. Shouldn't he be back in bed now? "And you shouldn't be standing."

"I'm not standing, Rodney." Sheppard was back in bed...on the opposite side of the tiny space they occupied from where Rodney was addressing his comments. How can a man that made so much noise getting from bed to Jennifer's office get back into bed so quietly?

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Sheppard clearly wasn't paying attention to Rodney. He was busy sighing again.

"Sheppard, what's wrong?" Rodney was worried. He wasn't blind (wonderful, excellent), no one was going to die (beautiful, perfect). So what was up with Sheppard?

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
"You do realize that the Daedalus brought real turkeys, right?" Sheppard shifted in his bed, hissing at the pull against broken bone. "Real turkey! And real potatoes! And beer." Sigh. Rodney knew for a fact that Sheppard had arranged for a private shipment of booze, beer and snacks to be shipped in. His ire at being sidelined was probably more about Lorne claiming his semi-illegal stash than missing out on a party. If Rodney was going to be denied coffee there was no way Sheppard would get his beer. Jennifer was mean like that. If Carson had stayed on base for Christmas Eve Sheppard would have him convinced that he needed to personally oversee the off-loading of the Daedalus and then that the two of them needed to attend the holiday dinner as a "boost to moral". Jennifer wasn't nearly the pushover Carson was. Pity that.

"Someone will bring us some, Sheppard. You know that." Rodney would have liked to be there himself. There was no telling what they'd put on his tray. There may be citrus in the yams! If he'd been there himself he could ensure his safety...and snag extra rolls while he was at it. Still, he could reassure his friend. That was what friends were for!

"It's not the same!" Sheppard sighed again. Rodney thought he was being a little melodramatic but decided it would be wise to let that go for now. Probably worried about Lorne getting sweaty handprints on his new comic books.

"They'll have cake, Rodney." Sheppard knew what would count to Rodney and it wouldn't be the turkey. "Chocolate. And they shipped coffee, too." They'd been out of fresh coffee for a couple of weeks. It was hard to make it stretch between supply runs.

"Coffee." Rodney's voice sounded a little dreamy. "Coffee and chocolate cake." Hooked. "You said Jennifer wouldn't let us have any."

"That's why we're gonna break out of here and go get some from the mess! No one will stop us once we're out of here. I've got a plan." It was Rodney's turn to sigh. Sheppard's plans were invariably fraught with danger; he was predictable like that. And danger wasn't something Rodney wanted anything to do with while injured, blind and sulking on Christmas Eve.

"Are you forgetting something, Sheppard?" Rodney managed to aim a glare at Sheppard even with his eyes covered in gauze. "I'm blind and you're disabled. How are we supposed to over come those little obstacles?"

"Like I said, I've got a plan." Sheppard shifted off his bed and hobbled over to Rodney's bedside. He looked around the privacy curtain to ascertain the location of the bored nurse. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he leaned in to explain to Rodney what they had to do to make their escape.

"She's not looking, Rodney." Sheppard reached over and helped Rodney untangle himself from his bedcovers. "While she's otherwise occupied we'll slip out the back." He sounded well pleased with himself, but he was also high as a kite now. He was going to start giggling like a schoolgirl any moment. "By the time she notices we're gone we'll be in the transporter on the way to the mess!"

"Idiot." Rodney was disgusted. "Moron." He slapped at Sheppard's hands as he tried to get Rodney to get on his feet. "Let me repeat. I'm blind and you are disabled...and impaired. What makes you think we can 'slip out' anywhere?" He huffed in annoyance. "Plus? The mess is on the other side of the control room. No way can you limp that far. We'd have to go down stairs...you know the transporter on this side is down for maintenance." There. That was settled. Rodney felt around for his blanket. It was surprisingly soft and he didn't want Sheppard to claim it for himself.

Sheppard heaved another of his repertoire of sighs. "You don't have to be such a killjoy, Rodney." Rodney could actually hear Sheppard pouting. Amazing. "And I'm not impaired." He heard more rustling from Sheppard's direction.

"What are you doing?"

"I see a wheel chair Rodney." Sheppard couldn't be planning on actually going through with his crazy, half-assed plan. It would never work. They'd get caught. They'd get hurt! "I need you to distract the nurse so I can get it." Sheppard tugged the privacy curtain between their beds closed, hiding him from view.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
"No, Sheppard." Rodney shook his head, no way Jose. "You're not involving me in one of your schemes. I'm staying right here until I can see where I'm going!"

"Don't be such a wimp, McKay." Sheppard's voice was pitched low, like he was sharing a secret. "Just call a nurse over...make a scene."

"A scene?" Rodney whispered back, incredulous. "What sort of scene would you like, Colonel? What would be sufficient to pull our guard dog off long enough for a cripple to steal a wheel chair?" Rodney knew that he'd do it, of course. He'd never been able to resist Sheppard-momentum once it got going. It was one of the immutable laws of physics.

"I don't know, Rodney!" The real shame was Sheppard wouldn't even doubt that Rodney would go along with him. It was one of the things that had sealed their friendship long ago; that willingness to just go for it, trusting Sheppard to come up with a crazy plan and him trusting Rodney to make it work. "Fake something!"

"Fake...Sheppard!" Rodney groped around where he figured Sheppard would be. Nothing but air. "Sheppard!" he hissed, louder. Bastard!

"Nurse! Hey, is anyone out there?" Rodney pitched his voice to the most irritating whine he could. "Nurseperson! Some assistance, if you please!" He could hear Sheppard trying to stifle his laughter somewhere behind the privacy curtain. "Hurry up!" he hissed in that direction.

The nurse came to Rodney's bedside, pulling aside the curtain that cut off view of the beds from the general ward. "What is it, Dr. McKay?" Damn. This was never going to work. He was no good at lying. Sheppard was so going to owe him for this.

"My eyes are burning." Well, they actually were, a little. Not really a lie. "I was hoping Jennifer left some of those drops for me."

"I'll see what your chart says, Doctor." The nurse started to tug the privacy curtain closed again. "Just try to rest." If she tugged the inner curtain aside to check on Sheppard the plan would be ruined, but in the end she walked away with out moving in that direction.

Once the nurse was back at her station, John rolled the chair over to Rodney as quietly as possible. "Come on. We've only got a few minutes to get out of here."

Sheppard helped Rodney stand, holding onto him until he got his balance. "I'm gonna sit in the chair, Rodney. You're going to push."

Rodney stood perfectly still for a moment. "Push?" It was difficult to put as much venom into a whisper as Rodney would have liked. It took all of his skill to pull it off. "Moron." He could hear Sheppard shuffling awkwardly. "Are you brain damaged? Did I break more than your leg when I landed on you?" He aimed a few of his more emphatic gestures at Sheppard. "I. Am. Blind. Sheppard. I'll push you down a stairwell!"

"Don't be silly, Rodney." Sheppard was getting excited, drugs now well and truly kicked in. "There are no stairs between here transporter in C corridor. That's the one we'll take. It'll drop us off right by the mess. I'll give you directions, all you have to do is follow them!" It was Rodney's turn to sigh.

"And it's going to be awesome, I suppose?"

"Yes, Rodney." Sheppard actually sounded happy. No doubt thrilled to be risking his life again. Bastard. "It's going to be totally awesome."

Sheppard shifted into the chair. Rodney could hear the seat creak as Sheppard shifted once more to ensure the coast was clear. "Okay, Rodney. Six paces straight ahead then a sharp turn right. That's going to put us in the back hall. We'll work around to corridor C."

"Straight ahead, sharp left. Got it." Rodney started forward.

"No, a sharp right!" Sheppard said, causing Rodney to lose count of his paces. Four? He was pretty sure it had been four.

"Okay, a right. Got it." Five, six and a sharp right.

"Ow!" More cursing that maybe sounded a little like Lithuanian. "Damn it, Rodney! I said six paces, not five!"

"Sorry, sorry." Rodney pulled Sheppard away from the table he'd sideswiped, stepped off one more pace and turned sharply right again.

"Okay, good." Sheppard sounded relieved. Rodney felt he should point out that it was Sheppard's fault in the first place for distracting him. Maybe now wasn't the time. "Now just push straight ahead until I tell you to stop."

Straight. He could do straight.

~*~

"Straight! Straight!" Rodney felt Sheppard push the chair off from the wall before they connected again.. "Rodney, you steer this thing like you do a 'jumper!" He felt the jerk of the chair as Sheppard righted it again, aiming them down the hall. "We're almost to the transporter. Three more paces then stop." Rodney counted down three steps.

"Colonel Sheppard! Doctor McKay!" Damn. The nurse had discovered her patients were missing. It was not the clean get away that Sheppard promised. Complications were a common thread in all of his plans. "You both need to get back here!" Rodney could hear the feet running towards them.

"Hit the destination, Sheppard! Unless you have plan B." He felt the chair shift as Sheppard reached behind him and hit a spot on the map. The doors slid smoothly closed and both John and Rodney heaved relieved sighs.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"
The doors opened onto a dark, silent corridor. The lighting was dim, refusing to brighten at Sheppard's mental command. "Huh."

"What? That didn't sound like a good 'huh'." Rodney clutched the handles of the chair tighter. "Where are we? We're lost, aren't we?" A little panic was good for the heart. Kept the blood pumping.

"We're not lost, Rodney." There was something in his voice...Rodney couldn't quite place it. "We're just in a section under the medlab. Not much going on down here." Sheppard pulled his chair forward, angling it out of the transporter.

"Why are you getting out here?" Rodney tugged back on the chair. He wasn't budging from the transporter. No way.

"Just gonna take a quick look around, Rodney." Sheppard tugged forward again. "Come on." He angled the chair out into the hallway. Rodney could stand alone or go with. He fumbled his hands back onto the chair's handles and followed Sheppard into the hall. "We'll take a quick recon, Rodney. Just a little intel and then we'll go eat." Sheppard had that tone. Rodney knew it all too well. He was lying. He was remarkably good at it really, but Rodney had known him a long time now and could read his voice inflection. He was definitely lying.

"No." Rodney kept his hands on Sheppard's chair but stayed still when he tugged forward again. "I'm not moving until you tell me the truth." He could hear Sheppard rubbing the back of his neck. He always did that when he was embarrassed. "Tell me, Sheppard." Now that Rodney was paying more attention to their surroundings, he was picking up clues. Gun oil. He could smell gun oil. That meant they were near the armory. If they were near the armory they were near central stores. Central stores and Sheppard's nearly illegal stash of goodies. Now Rodney understood what was going on.

"You bastard!" Rodney flicked at Sheppard's head. The satisfying yelp told him he'd been at least partially successful. "You're after your personal shipment!" Sheppard shifted in the chair, probably trying to figure a way to get his stuff without Rodney. Damn him. "You risked injury to both of us for beer, Sheppard? Are you insane?"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Sheppard shifted again. "Not just beer, Rodney." He at least had the grace to sound contrite. "My Christmas presents for you guys are in that shipment, too."

"Presents?" Rodney loved presents. He wasn't going to admit that to Sheppard...and the bastard was still a bastard...but presents.

"I ordered some cool new RC cars, and some stuff for T.J., and some fabric for Teyla." High Sheppard was an excited Sheppard. It was nice. A side of the normally very private man that Rodney didn't get to know. Dangerous as hell, but nice. "Lot's of stuff, Rodney." More neck rubbing. "And beer too. It's Canadian!"

Rodney rocked back and forth, thinking. They were already this far. From stores they'd get back in the transporter and go to the residential section. That was just above the mess. Not really much of a detour. Rodney wanted to smack himself in the head. Sheppard had done it again. He'd wrapped Rodney up in his "plan" and now Rodney was finding ways to make it work. Bastard!

"I'd better at least get some of your snacks for this!"

"Ten paces straight ahead, Rodney," was Sheppard's only comment. "Ten paces then stop so I can open the door." Locks requiring Command over-ride were on all shipments. Supposedly it kept anyone from pilfering...yet here Rodney was with Sheppard prepared to do just that.

Rodney stopped after counting off ten paces. "Very good, Rodney." He could hear Sheppard fumbling with something to the side of them. "You're getting the hang of this." A click and snick of an opening lock let Rodney know they were in. "Just one second." Rodney knew Sheppard was standing up. "I'll grab the boxes and be right back."

"Be careful! You shouldn't be walking around!" Rodney didn't like the idea of Sheppard shifting around in the crowded storage area. It was tight for a healthy man, and if Sheppard hadn't been altered by his meds before he surely was now.

"Stop worrying." Sheppard was back already; Rodney could hear him shoving something towards the door where he was waiting. "It's just two boxes but they're kind of heavy." Another scrape. "I'm gonna sit back down and you're gonna have to put them in my lap." Now didn't that sound like a recipe for disaster?

They were indeed heavy, Rodney's mumbles about hernias and back injuries didn't have any effect on Sheppard's plans. "Use your knees, McKay. Lift with your back straight."

"Shut up. Just shut up and hold on to these." Rodney dumped the second box into Sheppard's lap. The pained grunt should have given Rodney some vindication but only made him feel guilty. "We'd better hurry up. Nurse Ratchet will be sending out the troops to find us you know."

"Let me lock this back up and we can get going." More cursing...English this time. Sheppard's struggles with the lock while balancing the boxes caused the chair to roll into the door. Oh, French. Very nice. "Done. Turn us around, okay? Head back the way we came."

Rodney's awkward three-point turn (aided by several push-offs by Sheppard) finally got them oriented towards the transporters. Ten paces. Rodney could do this. He was tiring now; wanting the big adventure to wind down so he could eat and go back to bed. Sheppard had to be wearing thin as well. "You doing okay, Sheppard?"

"Almost done, Rodney." Yeah. He sounded just about spent. "Almost done. You can stop now. The transporters' just to your left."

The hallway in the residential area was as empty as the rest of Atlantis. Rodney could hear nothing but the muffled sounds of the party now directly below them. "Isn't anybody working tonight?" Good thing the Wraith didn't get a party invitation. Perfect night to drop in for a snack.

"The shield is up, Rodney." Sheppard sounded amused but not nearly as giddy as before. Pain meds must be wearing off. "Let them have a night off."

"Humph." Rodney was getting a lot of practice in letting comments go tonight. "Where too, Sheppard? Blind man walking here." The sooner they got these boxes put away to Sheppard's satisfaction the sooner Rodney could get some food. "You know there won't be any good stuff left by the time we get to the mess, don't you?"

"Have a little faith, buddy. We'll be there in less than ten minutes." Sheppard reached back to awkwardly pat Rodney's hand. "Promise. You're coming up on the right angle that leads to my quarters. Five paces, then right."

Rodney counted down the steps... "What's that?" he asked. "Can you hear that?"

"Shhh!" Sheppard hissed. "Someone's in the corridor!" Rodney could tell that Sheppard was struggling to stand again. He reached out to press him back into the chair only to have his hand slapped away.

"What the hell, Sheppard?" Rodney hissed right back, shaking is stinging fingers. "I think you should stay put! However it is will go to bed or leave in a minute." Rodney scowled down at Sheppard's head. "Jeez."

"And what if they come toward us?" Sheppard whispered. "We're between them and the functioning transporter, remember?" Oh. Yeah.

"Then what do we do?" Rodney didn't think they were up to any sort of acrobatics. Maybe they should just roll into Sheppard's quarters as though it was perfectly normal for a blind man to push a crippled man in a wheel chair. It was Pegasus. Stuff happened here.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
"We're right outside Teyla's quarters." Sheppard nudged his chair closer to the wall, dragging Rodney along with it. "They'll be at the party at least until the gift exchange." The crystal door lock made a silvery tinkle as Sheppard dismantled it to gain access. "We can hide out in here for a few minutes until whoever it is leaves." It couldn't be too soon for Rodney. He was running on fumes now.

"Maybe we should just let however it is help us put the stuff in your room, Sheppard." Rodney hoped this would be the one time Sheppard would be reasonable. "We don't have to everything the hard way." Just then the door opened and Sheppard tugged Rodney forward into Teyla's room. "She's going to kill us." Rodney was sure of that. "She's not even going to wait for us to heal properly first."

"Shhh!" The voices were getting closer; whoever it was must have rounded the corner on the way to the transporter.

"I'm not criticizing now, Dr. Keller." Carson. Carson was back. "You were absolutely correct to want the two of them in the medical bay tonight. There's no question it was the proper call."

"But..." Keller sounded harassed. It gave Rodney a twinge of guilt. Their escape seemed to necessitate Carson's early return, casting Jennifer in a bad light. From the way Sheppard was rubbing his neck he was feeling the same guilt. Good.

"But. For all that it was the right call, I've learned that telling the Colonel what he cannot do is tantamount to telling him to hurry up and get it done." Carson sighed. "I've never known anybody quite like the two of them. Individually they're intelligent, fairly co-operative people. Get them together and it's like babysitting two wild monkeys." Jennifer laughed. "They cannot seem to keep away from some sort of mischief to get themselves mixed into."

"Yeah. You're right." Dr. Keller's voice faded as the two made their slow way to the transporter. "It probably would have been easier just to wheel them upstairs and post someone to keep an eye on them." She laughed again. "Where else can we look?"

"I think I know where they'll be, my dear." Rodney strained to hear the rest. "Dunna worry yourself further."

They waited a few minutes with nothing but silence for company. Finally convinced that the hallway was empty, Sheppard wheeled himself (and his appendage, Rodney) back to the door crystal. It took longer to put it back together than to take it apart. "I think someone needs remedial Ancient tech maintenance classes," Rodney said with a smirk.

"Yeah, whatever." Sheppard wiggled the chair back and forth. "Let's go. Five paces..."

"...Then right. Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses." Rodney gripped the handles again and started counting. A quick right turn and ten more paces. He'd traveled this distance so many times over the last few years that his body knew it even without the aid of his eyes. Once in front of Sheppard's door he pulled them both to a stop. "TaDa!"

"Very impressive, Rodney." Sheppard door whooshed open. "You'll make a fine Sherpa someday." He wheeled into his room, letting the door close behind the two of them. "God what I wouldn't give to just go to bed now!"

"Oh, no!" Rodney's hands flailed in agitation. "You promised turkey. Cake, Sheppard. You promised cake. And coffee." No one should forget the coffee. "I expect you to make good!" He groped around, searching for the first box on Sheppard's lap. "Where do you want this?"

"Just put it down, Rodney." Sheppard sounded like the release of pressure on his leg was not a good thing. "Neither one of us is in the shape needed to put anything away right now." Not a good thing at all. Rodney set the box down and shoved it as far from the chair as he could reach. After placing the second box beside the first, he turned back to Sheppard.

"What now?"

"Now? We eat." Excellent.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
The transporter obediently deposited the two weary escapees just steps away from the mess. "Smell that!" sighed Sheppard...a much happier sigh among his many now that he was approaching the turkey dinner he craved. "Smells like home."

"You never talk about home." Rodney was going to see that he did. Soon. It was going to be payback for running him all over the city. The food did smell remarkably good, though. It didn't smell like any home Rodney had ever been in, but that wasn't a bad thing. "Which way, Sheppard. Hypoglycemic reaction in the making."
Rodney could tell when they'd passed into the messhall. The noise of nearly the entire expedition hit him like a wall. Happy voices ringing; good food smells pulling the two of them into the room. Rodney's mouth was watering.

"Colonel. Rodney." Damn. Carson. He had indeed figured out where to track them down. Damn. "Dinna Jennifer tell the two of you to stay tucked up for the night?"

"Come on, Carson," John whined. He was really very good at it. "We didn't want to miss out on the party!" Rodney didn't have to see him to know Sheppard was now pulling out the 'puppy' face. It worked nearly as often as the whine. If neither were successful he'd pull out the pout. If he had too. The pout was powerful. In Rodney's experience he'd only seen it used in dire emergencies. Like securing the last pudding cup.

"We'll go back in a few minutes, Carson." Rodney tried to be the voice of reason here. Sheppard clearly had head trauma that had gone undiagnosed. Feed him a little turkey and back to bed. Best thing for everyone. Tomorrow they'd open the crates hiding in his room. Best not to mention them here. "But since we're here, why not let us have dinner first? It'll save the orderlies time. It's Christmas Eve."

Carson stared at Rodney for a moment, then shook his head. "Since you're here, Rodney." He shook his head again. "But just for a few minutes, then I'm having you both escorted back to the medical wing and kept there until I say otherwise." Carson tried to sound threatening but couldn't pull it off. "Let me help you to a chair, Rodney. Major Lorne will push the Colonel's chair. Then we'll get you something to eat."

"Don't forget the coffee!" Rodney really, really wanted the coffee.

"Yes, Rodney"

"Oh, and a beer for Sheppard!"

"Yes, Rodney."

True to his word, Carson returned to their table with two well-laden trays. Turkey, stuffing, potatoes, gravy. "Oh God, gravy." And coffee. Rodney would have swooned if he'd been less masculine. Carson helped Rodney get most of his meal in his mouth and not on his lap. It wasn't as easy as it should have been. "I'll get you both a bit of cake, now. Or maybe a piece of pie?"

"Oh, pie." Happy thought. "Can't we have both?" Rodney realized he hadn't heard from Sheppard since they'd sat down. Probably enjoying his turkey too much to talk. Understandable.

"Sheppard, do you want pie? Cake? Both?" Silence. "Sheppard?"

Carson huffed a quiet laugh. Sheppard's arms were resting on the table and his head was pillowed on his arms. His tray of food, untouched, sat beside him. He snored, but only a little. He was polite like that. "We'll box his dinner up for him, shall we?" Carson reached over to pat Sheppard gently. "He's all done in." He looked at Rodney, "How about you, lad? Ready to be off to bed?"

Rodney was tired. Very tired. "Cake first." Carson nodded, unsurprised. "We can box the pie." Carson nodded again. "And we'll take the coffee to go."

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"