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It had been a long day. Rodney, whose intense dislike of facing certain death, was trumped only by his even more intense dislike of facing certain death several times in the same day, was exhausted. They'd escaped by the skin of their teeth, thanks in no small part to the flying skills of one Doctor McKay. It rankled somewhat that no one had seemed to notice but the fact that Major Sheppard had been lying unconscious in the back of the Jumper at the time, no doubt explained their ingratitude.

He was bone-tired, every muscle in his body ached and all he wanted to do was to go back to his room and sleep. Teyla and Ford had already gone but McKay hadn't followed them. Instead his worried blue eyes were focused on the other side of the infirmary where an inordinately worried Doctor Beckett was fussing over the still unconscious Major.

From the moment the Jumper had returned through the Stargate Carson had been hovering over John. Rodney's own pleas for assistance (he had been shot in the arm while trying to make it back to the Jumper) had gone unheeded. This was, Rodney reflected, something new. Normally Carson would humour him, no matter how slight his injuries, but today Carson had refused to leave John's side. In fact McKay doubted that even an Atlantis-wide medical emergency would be able to persuade Carson to desert his patient.

It must be late, a quietness had fallen over Atlantis and in the stillness Rodney suddenly became aware that Carson was singing. He didn't understand the words but the tone was vaguely familiar. For a moment he thought it was that of a mother singing to her child but there was a hint of something else in the song. Rodney frowned, he was famous for being self-obsessed, but watching Carson standing at John's side, every so often reaching out to stroke John's dark hair, it occurred to him that this trait had been blinding him to what he should have realised a long time ago, that his best friend was in love with John Sheppard.

"He'll be alright," Rodney's voice sounded too loud and Carson's visible start showed that he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the room.

"You're still here. Is everything okay?"

The worry in Carson's voice made Rodney re-evaluate his opinion that there wasn't any emergency that would get Carson away from John. First and foremost Carson was a doctor. That thought was quite comforting, Rodney decided.

"I'm fine. You on the other hand should get some sleep."

"I can't leave him."

Watching, Rodney wondered if Carson were aware that he had reached out to reassure himself that John was still there.

"Coffee then."

"Aye, okay."

Rodney busied himself with the coffee, thankful that the infirmary kept its own supply. The pot was almost cold but undaunted Rodney poured out a couple of cups. Cold coffee was better than no coffee at all, an opinion that Carson normally vehemently disagreed with, but Rodney noted that this time he drank the liquid without complaint.

"You like him." Afterwards Rodney would reflect that he hadn't intended to be quite that blunt but it was late, he was tired and getting Carson to talk about his feelings would probably be hard enough, without spending half an hour beating around the bush first.

It was perhaps a sign of just how exhausted the man was that he made no attempt to deny it.

"For all the good it does me." Carson looked up at Rodney, grief and pain etched across his face. "Don't tell him."

Rodney sidestepped that comment. "How long?"

"As long as we've been here." Carson admitted. "I started obsessing over the fact that I'd almost killed him and before I knew where I was I'd fallen in love with him." He reached out towards John again but this time realised what he was doing and snatched his hand back. "We almost lost him today," Rodney felt his heart drop, no one had told him. "He's fine now, just sleeping. If he'd died.." Carson's voice faltered.

"He didn't," Rodney knew his voice sounded unnaturally cheerful. "You can talk to him when he wakes up."

"I'd rather not. I'd rather like to keep the Major's respect."

"What makes you think you'll lose it?"

"Men like him don't go for men like me," Carson retorted bitterly. "You know that. Wasn't it you that dubbed him Captain Kirk?"

"That doesn't mean.."

"Aye it does." Carson's face reddened and while Rodney watched in confusion, he fetched his laptop from his office.

"What am I looking at?" There was a document on the screen and Rodney scrolled through it, certain words catching his eye, Kirk and Spock among them.

"It's a story, a piece of fiction." Carson said in a quiet voice. "I started reading them in Antarctica."

"I already know about your Star Trek obsession."

"Aye, but these stories are focused on romantic homosexual relationships between the crew."

"Genius I might be, but I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"Each story has a particular pairing. Most of them pair Kirk with Spock," Carson glanced up at Rodney almost accusingly. "But some pair Kirk with Scotty, some even Kirk and Chekov.."

"And?"

"The point is none of them ever pair Kirk with McCoy."

The penny dropped. "You're basing your conclusions as to John's feelings on a story?"

Carson looked mutinous. "You called him Captain Kirk," he muttered.

Rodney sighed. "Maybe you should write a new story," he suggested gently. "There's no reason to think he doesn't like you."

"There's no reason to think that he does." The Scot stood up and wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm not going to kid myself Rodney."

"You think you are?"

"Look at him. He's never going to want someone like me." Carson walked back to John's side, reaching across to pull the blanket straight and then pausing when he realised John's eyes were open.

"What's wrong?" Rodney leapt to his feet as the colour drained from Carson's face, worry that the Major might have taken a turn for the worse, propelled him across the room.

"Hi fellas," John drawled sleepily, "did I miss anything good?"

Carson was still staring at John with horror on his face so Rodney covered for him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Actually not so bad. I could do with a beer though."

Carson smiled. "I can offer you water."

"No beer?" John groused.

"Maybe once you're up and about I'll permit it."

"How about coffee?"

Carson sighed and Rodney snickered. "Water only until you're on your feet."

"Well why didn't you say so," and with that John slithered off the bed. He recovered and then stood, but the look on his face said he was trying desperately to remember how to get his legs to work. Then, almost in slow motion, the Major's legs crumpled beneath him and the only things that stopped him from falling were Carson's arms.

"Thanks doc," the two men's faces were so close that for a moment Rodney half-expected them to kiss, but the moment passed and Carson merely heaved John back on to the bed and then turned away, searching for a thermometer. He turned back and unceremoniously inserted the instrument into John's mouth.

"Now stay put," he growled.

Rodney noted the look of relief on Carson's face once he had read the Major's temperature and he decided that he could no doubt give a little of his spare brain capacity over to thinking of ways to get Carson and John together.

"He's asleep again," Carson said tiredly, "and you should be too Rodney. Go on, there's no need to stay."

"What about you?"

"I'll be here, keeping an eye on John." Carson was obviously weary but nevertheless he was settling himself down for his long and lonely vigil over the man he loved.