Flossy's Corner of Insanity
Don’t Mention the ‘P’ Word…

By Flossy


Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fan fiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.  I’m afraid that despite wishing that I did, I don’t own these characters.  I’ve just borrowed them for a while.  (Although, I may hang onto McKay and Sheppard for a bit longer – they’re a lot of fun…)

Summary:Sometimes, it’s best to just say nothing and walk away… as John and Rodney find out the hard way.

Central Character(s): Rodney and John with a side helping of Carson.

Category (ies): Humour, friendship.

Placement: Season Two.

Rating: PG.

Spoilers: Not even a word.  

Author’s Note: I am very bad.  I am a naughty, wicked, bad, evil girl and am going to go to sci-fi hell for all my sins.  But I couldn’t resist this one – been there, done that as the saying goes… 

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“Not you as well?”

Lt Col John Sheppard glanced up from his prone position on the infirmary cot and gave Dr Rodney McKay such a helpless look that the physicist wondered if he’d just crossed into a parallel dimension.

“Now, Rodney, don’t you be teasing the Colonel.  He’s in no shape to be putting up with your whining.”  Carson Beckett was nowhere to be seen, so Rodney assumed that he was in his office.

“So what happened then?” McKay demanded, as he sat on the bed next to John’s.  The pilot looked over at him and saw that the Canadian was holding a hand in front of his left eye.  “Injured in the line of duty?  Or did someone tell you to get a hair cut?”

“Och, leave him alone,” Carson called.  “The poor lad’s had a kick to the googlies.”

Rodney winced in sympathy.  “Okay, Hotshot, ‘fess up.  How did it happen?  And, more importantly, who dunnit?”

Sheppard seemed to curl up tighter, grabbing a pillow and holding it to his lower abdomen as if he was afraid that someone would have another pop at him.  “Sparring accident,” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t as squeaky as he thought it sounded.

“Oh, God,” McKay moaned, mentally answering his previous question as to who the culprit was.  “Please don’t tell me you were sparring with Teyla?”

“I, uh… yeah.”

“No wonder you’re gonna be singing soprano for the next couple of days,” Rodney replied.  “She’s in a pretty dangerous mood right now.”  His one visible eye widened as he had a sudden thought.  “Well that explains that then,” he muttered.

“I got that, thanks,” John replied testily.  He was still wondering just what the hell had hit him.  

Well, Teyla had, to be precise, but he couldn’t work out what he’d done to deserve it.  He’d barely been able to say two words to her during the session – she’d seemed to be a little highly strung, and a bit more aggressive than normal, but he’d put it down to stress.  Then he found himself curled up on the floor in absolute agony as a surprisingly forceful and well aimed kick had got him right in the pants.

“Rodney, why are you cluttering up my infirmary?  Have you gotten bored of terrorising your minions?”

“No,” the scientist snapped, not moving his hand.  “I’ve been assaulted.”  He put on his best injured look.  “And I don’t terrorise them.”

“No, you just shout.  A lot,” replied John, grinning.  He was actually curious to see what the physicist had managed to do to himself this time: Rodney tended to visit the infirmary on a regular basis.  Usually, the ‘life-threatening’ injuries ranged from paper-cuts to mild burns, but something told the Air Force man that this impromptu appointment was a bit more serious than McKay’s normal hypochondria. 

There was a snigger from the direction of the office. 

“Oh, that’s right!” Rodney fumed.  “Let’s just laugh it up when I get beaten to a pulp!  Thank you so much for all your concern and support!”

In an order to maintain some level of decorum, the Scotsman finally walked out from the safety of his small cupboard.  He strode over to the boys and grabbed McKay’s hand, moving it away from his face.

“Good Lord, man!” he exclaimed, as he saw that the physicist was sporting the start of what could turn out to be an absolute shiner of a black eye.  

“What the hell happened to you?” asked John, concerned but unable to move very far.

“Elizabeth,” McKay replied darkly.  “One minute we’re discussing the merits of establishing an off-world science site and the next she’s hitting me!” 

“What?!”

That didn’t sound like Weir at all.  Sure, there were moments when most people on base wanted to smack McKay, but no one had ever done it.  It would be like kicking a puppy or beating on your annoying kid brother.  And besides, the woman was meant to be a diplomat.  Normally, hitting someone in the middle of a negotiation wasn’t the best way to broker a treaty. 

Until now, it seemed.

“I swear I didn’t do anything!  I wasn’t even rude!” Rodney protested.  “I just happened to mention that the mess had run out of chocolate brownies then WHAM!  The next thing I know is she’s storming out of the room and I’m on the floor feeling like half my face is about to fall off!  That woman has one hell of a right hook.” 

Carson tutted as he examined McKay’s rapidly swelling eye.  He disappeared for a moment, returning with an icepack and two pills.  Instructing the scientist to take the painkillers, he put the icepack into Rodney’s hand then put it back to his face.  “I’ll need to take an x-ray,” he said.  “I don’t think there’s any serious damage, but there’s no harm in being cautious.  And I want you to stay here tonight for observation.  You may have thumped your head when you fell and not realised.”  He gently but firmly pushed the physicist to lie down on the empty cot he had commandeered.  “Any double vision, dizziness or nausea?”

“No, but I have a feeling that they’ll be appearing in the near future if the headache I’ve got is anything to go by.”

“So what the hell is going on?” John asked, thinking that Rodney must be feeling pretty bad not to start complaining about missing work or the uncomfortable infirmary mattresses.  “I mean, is there some kind of female conspiracy going down that we don’t know about?”

Rodney snorted a laugh and winced as the pain flared through his face.  “Oh come on!” he said incredulously, having put two and two together.  “Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Sheppard replied, looking genuinely confused. 

“Didn’t you ever attend the Sex Ed lessons in school?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Rodney just shook his mangled head in disbelief.

“I think it’s… that time of the month,” Carson said quietly.

“You don’t mean…?”

“Aye, son.  It looks like what we have here are two injuries caused by severe PMT.”

Rodney dissolved into a fit of sniggering.  

“C’mon, doc,” John said, shaking his head.  “You’re joshing me.”

“I’m afraid not, son.  After living together for a while, girls tend to… synchronise.”

Despite the pain, McKay laughed harder.
 
“You mean that we’re stuck in here because of a period?!” the Air Force man squawked, missing the movement behind him.

Rodney didn’t. 

The Canadian suddenly stopped laughing and sent him a death glare as he sat upright.  “Shut up!” he hissed urgently.

“No, Rodney.  We got the crap kicked out of us because Elizabeth and Teyla are hormonal?  How is that fair?”

McKay was now making frantic shushing signals with his free hand and even Carson was looking worried.

“I’m not standing for this,” Sheppard continued, oblivious to the imminent danger he was in.  “The girls can’t go around decking the senior staff just because they’re male!  That’s sexist!”  He finally got with the programme as McKay made a strangled noise and gingerly pointed over the pilot’s left shoulder.

With an enormous effort and a whole world of pain, John managed to turn around… and saw Bella, one of Carson’s nurses watching them.  Nurse Bella scared the crap out of most of the male contingent of Atlantis and for good reason: she was built like a house and possessed an almost freakish amount of strength.  The current rumour circulating about her was that she’d picked Major Lawrence up off the floor and literally thrown him onto a bed when he was being un-cooperative.  

Major Lawrence was 180 pounds of pure Irish muscle.

Her face was like thunder and all three of them suddenly wished they were off fighting the Wraith. 

Sheppard gave her one of his most charming smiles, but it had no effect.  She simply raised an eyebrow and skulked off.

“A Dhia,” Carson whimpered.  

“You mean Bella is…?”

“Aye, lad.”  A thought struck him and he paled.  “And she’s on duty tonight.”

This time, both John and Rodney blanched.

“We’re dead men,” McKay whispered.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright,” Beckett said, trying to sound confident while secretly planning his escape route.

“This is your fault,” Sheppard accused, glowering at the physicist.

“In what way is this my fault?!”

“You were the one laughing!”


“Well you were the one venting!”

“Uh, lads…”

Bella returned bearing a couple of huge needles.

“Dead men,” Rodney repeated, then cowered as she advanced on the three of them with a menacing grin.  

-FIN-

Gaelic translation:

A Dhia – Oh God