She awoke to a thick fuzziness over her body and mind. Somewhere back there was a hint of pain - but it was nothing compared to when she first fell. Struggling against her eyelids that felt like they'd been stapled to her cheeks, she caught quick flashes of conversation.

"I think she's awake..."

"Are you kidding? She looks like hell..."

"Nope, I'm not kidding, look-"

When she finally opened her eyes, MacDonald and Diens peered down at her. The first thing she noticed was how hard it was to breathe. Hence, talk. So, when she tried, it came out as nothing more than a ragged whisper.

"You... don't look much... better... from this angle..." She retorted, then tilted her head towards Diens. "What's the... damage... doc?"

Diens, unable to say anything encouraging, smiled a faint smile and patted Tirion's hand. It didn't hide the truth, but sure was a more pleasant way of learning it. Nodding and smiling back, the astrophysicist closed her eyes and felt a lump rise up into her throat. Why was this so hard? It wasn't like there was anyone to leave behind. Except...

"Doc?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

She felt tears prick the backs of her eyelids. Luckily, she hadn't opened her eyes again so she hoped nobody could tell exactly how petrified she was.

"Tell Jake... I'm sorry..."

The world phased out, then back in again as she felt herself dragged slowly back into unconsciousness.

"You can tell him yourself." Diens said quickly, a hint of panic in her voice. "In fact, I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about with the amount you've been at each others' throats... and then, you can explain the whole situation to me."

Tirion shook her head.

"Just tell him... please.."

And with that, blackness reclaimed her.

~*~*~

"Tell Jake... I'm sorry..." Start said

"You can tell him yourself," Diens said quickly, a hint of panic in her voice. "In fact, I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about with the amount you've been at each others' throats... and then, you can explain the whole situation to me."

Tirion shook her head. "Just tell him.... please.." With that she passed out again.

"Put her down," she told MacDonald and the two rested her on the mud. MacDonald took off his poncho and hovered it over the medic and patient.

"Wake up Start! Now!" Diens shouted at her. The doctor briefly woke. "Just take those small, shallow breaths that I was telling you about, ok?" She told Start soothingly. "Now, it looks like the pressure within your chest is getting to much. To stop your other lung from collapsing I'm going to have to put in a chest tube."

"Ok."

"Should we give her some morphine?"

"No, they'll cause respiratory depressions, and she's having enough breathing problems as it is. I'm going to have to do it without pain killers Doctor. I'll do it as quick and pain free as I can."

Most of Dien's kit had been left with the bulk of the other’s to accommodate for the injured's gear. Start drifted back into unconsciousness.

Diens took out a couple of sterets from her pack and rested them on Start's chest as she found one of her med packs. She put on a pair of gloves and wiped them with the alcohol sheets. She then picked up an empty biro pen (courtesy of MacDonald) and wiped that too with the alcohol wipes. "So much for the aseptic technique," Diens muttered to herself. "Keep the rain off us," she told MacDonald.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't throw up. This isn't going to be pretty."

Diens cleaned the area exposed where she had earlier ripped at Start's uniform. She picked up her only sterile scalpel and put it to the side where the collapsed lung was. She put the biro tube in the cavity and a hiss was heard as the air stored within Start's chest cavity escaped. Automatically Start took a big breath.

"What just happened?" MacDonald asked.

"I gave her room to breathe." Diens replied as she surrounded the area with gauze and taped it back into place. She then replaced her own jacket and poncho over Start, praying the biro wouldn't be knocked out of place "She's gonna have that opportunity to bitch to Mackenzie."

"Not we're gonna have to haul it. I want to replace that pen with a venflon as soon as possible. I don't want it jarred."

"Why not use one in the first place?"

"Quick release of air." She replied as the two picked up Start.

MacDonald and Diens had somehow managed to reach one of the abandoned hum vees within fifteen hours. It seems that their pace was a lot faster without the never-ending trail of injured SG-15.

MacDonald drove as Diens kept an eye on Start, making sure the biro didn't fall out.

"You gonna replace that thing?" He asked as they drove.

"No. I'm gonna leave it while it's doing it's job." Diens said as she put her jacket over her clinging, soaking wet T-shirt. "I just hope that I haven't frigging caught pneumonia."

~*~*~

As he watched McNamara trail after Hunter, back up the series of stone steps that would take them back to the surface, he thought about Rhea's claim. The one where she said Asreal could speak Mayan...Yeah...right. Mac looked at her in suspicion.

"So, can Asreal really translate this?" he asked her in a deceptively mild manner.

He saw a shaken head and heard her mumble, "No."

"Then why...?"

A stubborn look descended over her face. "I told you I wasn't leaving, so I'm not."

"For god's sake, O'Shea...What the hell is your problem?" he snapped at her, irritated beyond belief at her ridiculous behaviour. "Is it only me or orders in general that you have trouble with? Or maybe its your goal to make my life as damned difficult as humanly possible. Is that it?" Mackenzie was so angry with the woman, he knew it was fortunate that he was currently unable to get to his feet. He knew if he could he'd have a hard time keeping his hands off her throat. Without giving her a chance to explain, and seeing her about to interrupt, he ploughed on. "No... don't say it. Whatever the hell lie you were about to throw at me, don't. You think you can lie to get your own way? Life doesn't work like that, and the sooner you learn that the better." Mac fell back against the floor, completely exhausted - his anger had taken his last reserves of strength.

~*~*~

Rhea bit down on the urge to start screaming some choice obscenities in Mac's general direction. Then she had to clench her fists in order to prevent herself from taking a certain part of his anatomy and attempting to shove it down his throat.

"Listen here you sodding bastard, how many times has my breaking orders resulted in your backside being saved by me! Hmmm, is this hurting your precious ego *Mac*?" she said, emphasising the last word with all the venom she could muster. She realised that he was pretty much speaking out of pain, but just in case he meant what he said she was going to make sure that her feelings were *quite* clear. His face tightened as she crouched down just out of reach of any swinging arms. "And as for making your life difficult... Well, what can I say? It's what I do best," she said with a shrug.

~*~*~

Mac snapped his eyes open and glared at her, furrows of pain etched across his forehead. "I can assure you O'Shea, you're succeeding in that," he replied a little feebly. Already he felt some regret about exploding at her like he had, but, hell.... she was enough to make a saint blow a fuse and he knew he was far from sainthood. But he hadn't got the energy to keep this up with her. All he needed was to have Start there going at him at the same time... Mac's thoughts wandered as he thought of Tirion, worrying about her, before being pulled back to the present by a snort from Rhea.

"Forget it," he told her. "Just forget it." Rather than face her anger anymore, Mac closed his eyes again, turning his head away from her so she couldn't see how close to the mark her words had hit. This whole damn mission had been one continual jolt to his 'precious ego', as Rhea had put it. Even before they left. He didn't need reminding of it, although he knew his outburst had probably earned her the right to retaliate as she'd done.

"Forget it," he mumbled.

~*~*~

"Fucking hell," she swore vehemently and stood up, rubbing her fingers against her temple. "How the hell do you do this to me?"

"Do what?" Mac asked flatly, not looking at her.

"Make me act like a complete frigging twit all the time. So far I've managed to bawl like a baby on your shoulder, yell at your repeatedly for being so bloody stubborn, worry myself sick about whether or not you were alive and turn myself in circles trying to seek your forgiveness every time I put my size tens into it right up to my neck. If any of my family saw this they'd be having me committed for acting out of character!" She let her arms flap to her sides. "Christ, anyone'd think that I was in love with you or something!!"

~*~*~

Silence followed her last statement... during which time Mackenzie raised himself up on one elbow, wincing dramatically as he did so, and looked at her. He'd never seen O'Shea quite so agitated and he knew he'd really pissed her off this time. If he didn't know about her sexual preferences, he'd've begun to come to that same conclusion himself. But, Rhea had made it perfectly clear that she batted for the other team, so he knew it had to be something else.

"Hey," he said softly. "Cool your jets O'Shea. No fear of me thinking *that*," he added testily. He watched as she flounced away slightly, only giving in to the pain that wracked his ankle when he saw her back was turned. No way was he admitting to her or anyone else how much he was suffering. Hell, no. And give her something else to take pleasure in? Mac scowled as he clenched his left hand into a tight fist in an attempt to squash the pain. It didn't work, so instead he lay still, thinking dark and nasty thoughts about the world in general, waiting for Hunter and McNamara to return, hopefully with help of some kind.

Although he knew his outburst stemmed from worry - mainly that surrounding a certain doc - Mac couldn't help himself lashing out at Rhea. As soon as he'd started laying into her he knew he'd gone too far. Then again, she seemed to take great pleasure in going up against his orders. But HELL... he felt so frustrated! If only he could find out how Tirion was... then he knew he'd feel a damned sight better about his own predicament. Maybe even enough so he wouldn't take it out on O'Shea.

He saw her pacing the room, pausing to inspect the Codex. Even extending a finger to try and touch it before being zapped back a some sort of protection field. Mac knew he should tell her to quite playing around before she hurt herself, but he hadn't the energy. Instead he hunched his shoulder away from her and tried to rest.

Hunter and McNamara seemed to be taking a long while. Too long maybe. Mac looked up the stone steps, seeing too many. He felt defeated before he started. But it was better than sitting around here waiting for Rhea to touch something she would regret later. And maybe he'd then be able to find out about Tirion. He pushed himself to one knee, his injured foot hampering his movements considerably, and shuffled slowly towards the steps. He attracted Rhea's attention and he scowled when he saw her dart to his side.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He jerked his head. "Up there."

He saw her glare down at him, hands firmly placed on her hips. "Sprouted wings while my back was turned?"

Mac ignored her sarcasm and hauled himself to the first step. He could do this... he knew that.

"For gods sake, Mackenzie..." he heard her mutter as she scrambled up with him. "You'll break your bloody neck next."

"Yeah... maybe... but at least I... won't have to listen to... your cackling... anymore," he said between gasps, manoeuvring himself up to the second step with great difficulty. He felt her take his arm - probably to haul him back down again. "I don't need your help, O'Shea," he said, his teeth clenched tightly together and shaking her off.

"Suit yourself," she threw at him, backing up slightly.

He pushed onwards and upwards, leaning heavily on the wall as he hopped up one step at a time... So slowly and carefully. Last thing he needed was to lose his balance - he might even end up doing what Rhea had predicted. He didn't want to give her the pleasure of being right.

~*~*~

"I don't need your help O'Shea," Mac growled through gritted teeth.

//Ouch,// she thought, stung, as she backed away. "Suit yourself," she told him, stepping back down the stairs to the floor.

She watched in hurt silence as he hobbled up the stairs one at a time. It almost looked like he was going to stumble at one point, but he righted himself expertly and continued - slowly - on his way.

//Laisti! O'Shea you're an idiot!// she thought to herself. //Now you've completely bloody antagonised him and exactly *what* did that achieve?//

"Are you going to stay down there all day?" Mac asked her gruffly, turning to look at her from a reasonable height.

"Of course I bloody am, I want a perfect view of when you break your frigging neck," she muttered, but started slowly up the stairs. As she climbed, she didn't take her eyes off Mac's progress, just in case the stubborn bastard did fall. In fact, she was so intent on observing him that she completely forgot what she was doing - tripping up the steps.

"Ow, geez," she hissed as her palms scraped across the stone, leaving some lovely scrapes. Righting herself, she shook her hands in an attempt to clear the sting before inspecting them closely. //Oh great, embedded rock,// she thought vehemently, spotting the tiny stone that was sticking out of her hand.

"What's up with you?" There was no real trace of concern in the major's voice at her sudden halt in climbing. "C'mon, I want to get out of here before the second coming."

Glaring up at him for a moment, she pointedly ignored him as she went to work on removing the rock. Wincing as she did so, she dug a fingernail under its edge and flicked it out, sending it skittering down the step. A grimace and hiss of pain later she was fine to keep going.

"Well, get your arse moving," she said to Mackenzie when she looked up to find him still standing there and looking down at her. "I'm not the bacach that's holding us up."

He raised an eyebrow, whether or not he was wondering as to what she'd just called him or what she'd stopped for Rhea couldn't have given half a shit. As it was, she was amazed that she was even able to remember enough Gaelic to get out two words within the space of five minutes. The trek began again, with her bringing up the rear at a comparable pace to his own, on the off-chance that his stubbornness got himself into trouble again. A few minutes later, she wasn't disappointed when he wobbled precariously on the edge of a step. She literally flew up to him, reaching out to steady him.

"Look, this is crazy," she said when her actions garnered her another glare. "Right now you're comparable to shit on legs... or leg in this case. If you don't let me give you a hand, I'm not going to save you next time."

His jaw tightened and blue eyes blazed. "If this is the way you apologise, you're going to have to work on your technique."

"Apologise? No fear!" she retorted. "All I'm trying to do is give Start someone to argue with when she wakes up. If you're not up for that then it's your problem, because I for one am sick and bloody tired of this rubbish." He glared at her some more. "For fuck's sake Mac!" she cried, waving her arms in frustration.

Unfortunately one hand managed to catch him in the shoulder, having the effect of knocking off balance. Time halted for a moment, along with her heart, before he began to fall backwards. Seemingly intent on taking a tumble with him, she reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt. With images of the thin material ripping under his weight, she yanked him towards her - catching him in a hug as he slammed into her, almost knocking herself backwards with the force of the impact.

She waited for her heart rate to return to something more or less normal before she dared let him go. "Geez," she hissed through her teeth as she stepped backwards and up a step.

"So now you're trying to kill me?" he enquired mildly.

Looking at him in disbelief, she snapped shut her mouth (which had dropped open) and turned to storm up the stairs. She hadn't gotten more than one when there was a grip on her wrist and she turned to see Mackenzie almost sending himself off-kilter again holding her back.

//What now? More abuse?//

~*~*~

Jake Mackenzie pushed himself upward... climbing the seemingly never-ending steps. He knew O'Shea would be following - he didn't need to look back to check. 'Hell, as if I'd be so lucky that she'd stay down there,' he grumbled to himself. To reinforce this, she ran up to him when he lost his balance, wobbling all over the shop. She steadied him, but it led into yet another argument, with one of her insanely flailing arms knocked him for six. Mac knew his balance was shot to hell and there was only one way for this to end. O'Shea would get her wish - a snapped neck for her CO without a doubt.

He felt a pair of hands snare his shirt front, dragging him back. Rhea's arms flew around his chest, pulling him close and Mac's heart raced erratically out of control at his near miss. He glanced back down the steps, swallowing hard when he saw the drop. He knew he wouldn't have survived a tumble down there and he began to think he should've waited at the bottom for the others to return. He looked back at O'Shea and tried to bluster his way out of what he was feeling.

"So now you're trying to kill me?" he said, injecting as much nonchalance into his tone as he could dredge up. He saw his attitude hit the mark perfectly as O'Shea glared at him and stormed off up the steps. He snagged her wrist as he felt her sudden departure push him sideways slightly. He scowled, knowing he needed her assistance... something that made him irritable beyond belief.

"Hold it, O'Shea," he murmured. She stopped - she *had* to as he still had a hold of her arm - and looked down at him.

"What?"

Mac hesitated, unable to ask for her help as such. Yeah, he was stubborn, he knew that. O'Shea knew that too, it seemed. He narrowed his eyes as he returned her gaze, biting his lip slightly. //Dammit,// he thought. //Dammit to hell and back.//

"Don't wander ahead like that," he replied. "Stay with me." Even to his own ears he knew this sounded transparent and his brow furrowed as he waited for her scathing reply. It didn't come...something that took Mac completely by surprise. Instead she walked back to his side and shadowed him as he scrambled upwards.

They continued in this vein for several more minutes before Mac called a halt. The truth of it was, he just couldn't go any further. His right leg was trembling from the strain and he was sure his left foot was about to fall off entirely.

"Rest," he gasped. "I need a break." He almost fell to the ground, flopping on the steps and dragging deep ragged breaths into his lungs. He lifted his head to look down and then up. //Shit. Not even half way.// He almost groaned out loud in frustrations and desperation. He knew he wasn't going to make it *this* way. He realized his rash actions had probably made a bad situation even worse as he was now stuck. Perched like a damned parrot on the step. Maybe McNamara and Hunter would return with some ideas of their own. And McNamara would be able to get a closer look at the Codex after all. He glanced across at Rhea as she sat on the step below him. She was still angry - that much was obvious. Mac could see the tell-tale red spots on her cheeks from where he sat. Add to that the hard set to her mouth...he knew for sure.

"Ready?" Rhea cast over her shoulder at him.

"Yeah..." But he knew he wasn't going to be going any further. Not that *that* would prevent him from trying. He pushed himself upright, suddenly feeling light-headed.

"Rhea..." He knew he was heading back to the ground, and not from choice. The steps spun slightly as he flung out a hand towards O'Shea. He felt her body and hung on as his vision dimmed - his last thoughts were that he hoped he fell forwards rather than backwards and that he didn't take her with him if he went the wrong way.

~*~*~

"Rest," Mac gasped. "I need a break."

Rhea sat down with a little more grace that her CO, although she was just about buggered herself. Sustaining her anger at the man sitting the step up from her wasn't exactly conducive to her remaining energetic. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to turn her head to look back at him. After five minutes, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Ready?" she said tightly. She knew that he should probably rest for a lot longer than five minutes, but she'd be damned if he wasn't going to pay just a little for being a hurtful bastard.

"Yeah," he replied, although it sounded suspiciously like a sigh. However, when he stood up he almost immediately began to sway. "Rhea..." he whispered faintly, his hand shooting out.

Before she could right his balance, he toppled towards her like a fallen log. Her first instinct was to grab him, the second to stick a foot backwards to try not to lose her balance. It was then that she realised that she was standing on an enormous flight of stairs, because her back foot dropped a good few inches below her front one - a fact that ended up doing her more harm than good because her balance was now shot to pieces. Mac fell on top of her, far too heavy for her to stop, and her immediate response was to let her knees collapse.

//Dear God, let this work,// she prayed in the moment before her back hit the edge of the stairs that had formerly been behind her. Biting back a scream, she let herself go limp, with the exception of the arms that were holding Mac tightly.

A heartbeat or two later, they were only about five steps from the original fall, but Rhea was missing have of her shirt and her left leg wasn't looking too fantastic... What she could see of it when her head was on an entirely different level and there was a heavy man lying on top of her. But it had worked, they hadn't fallen. Of course, they weren't going any further. Not if the pain in her knee was anything to go by.

She just hung her head over the edge of the step the nape of her neck was resting on and panted for oxygen that was pretty much refusing to come to her aid. But she finally managed to suck in enough air to keep herself from passing out - because if she did, Mac would just slide right over the top of her and down the stairs.

"Mac?" she gasped. "Wake up you bloody bastard. Come on, you're alive." Mac groaned, and stirred, threatening to dislodge her hold on him. "Hold still for God's sake!"

"Rhea?" he croaked. "What?"

"You passed out you great lummox," she grated. "And if you don't get off of me I'm going to pull the same stunt!"

//Breathing is good... Okay O'Shea, breathe. In and out... In and out...//

~*~*~

Mackenzie knew he was going down even as he stood. He knew that feeling all too well. He heard himself call Rhea's name - maybe...he tried to call her anyway - before he felt the ground come up to meet him. The not a lot else after that.

He knew he hadn't been down and out for long and a naggingly insistent voice pulled him back.

"Mac?" he heard a familiar voice ask. "Wake up you bloody bastard. Come on, you're alive." Mac groaned, stirred and thought her sympathy level could rise a tad higher.

His movement caused her to grab him tighter and he heard her hiss angrily, "Hold still for God's sake!"

He tried to speak, but his voice was ridiculously croaky. "Rhea? What?"

He heard her reply in almost a snarled tone. "You passed out you great lummox. And if you don't get off of me I'm going to pull the same stunt!"

Mac pulled his woolly thoughts together. Hell, it wasn't *his* fault he'd passed out like that. O'Shea made it sound like he'd done it on purpose! But he knew he had to be crushing just about every bit of air out of her lungs - not to mention a few bones in the process. He rolled to one side, making sure he didn't take them both down the steps and hauled himself carefully to a sitting position. Mac drew in a deep breath and looked at Rhea as she lay sprawled on the steps, her head hanging about two feet below her legs. He took in the lump that was emerging on her temple and knew he'd done it again. His stupidity had caused someone else to get hurt. As usual. He scowled, sure Rhea thought it was an expression directed at her. But he knew otherwise.

He bodily hauled her the right way up and heard her groan as she moved.

"What the fuck now...?" he snapped angrily, cross with himself and worried about Rhea. He pushed himself upright, using the wall a great deal. "Stay there. Do NOT move, O'Shea. Understood?" He saw her start to rise, ignoring his command in her normal way. "I'm serious. Disobey me this time and I will see to it you spend the conceivable future working on the base. Do I make myself clear?"

Mackenzie threw a dark look down at the woman, quelling any forthcoming mouthful he knew was imminent and turned to face the climb up to the top. He glanced up and silently groaned. He knew he wasn't going to make it all the way up there. But...He looked back at O'Shea to see a pale face in the gloom. For all he knew he'd hurt her badly when he landed on top of her. He wasn't going to risk any further injury. She had to stay still. Maybe, by way of a miracle, the damned woman would stay where she was. He had a feeling he was only fooling himself as he hopped up another step. As if on cue, he heard her scramble up behind him and he turned to face her, anger etched across his face. An anger that masked the pain in his body and the worry in his head.

~*~*~

"Do I make myself clear?" Mackenzie all but yelled at her, his look akin to that of the electrical storms she used to watch with her father when she was a child. However, instead of inspiring awe, his look merely inspired her to once again go against orders - which she did the moment he turned his back. Unfortunately she wasn't quite silent enough in the scrabbling to her feet, so the next thing she knew she was face-to-face with a thunderous Major Jake Mackenzie. She half expected his eyes to light up like a pair of light bulbs they were so furious.

"I you'd let me get a word edgewise, I would've told you I was fine," she shot in just before the fires of hell were bought down on her slightly battered head. "Nothing's broken, just slightly used, abused and contused." This seemed to take some of the gale-force wind out of his sails. "Look, see?" She turned a careful circle on the step, as if she was displaying some latest fashion. When she had her back to him, she heard a quick intake of breath.

"What?" she asked, trying to look over her own shoulder. It didn't work, but in her peripheral vision she could see Mac reach out to touch her back. She didn't know where his fingers contacted with her skin, but when it did it set off a multitude of bells and whistles in her head. "Oh Christ," she hissed through clenched teeth, trying not to let on that she was in complete agony.

"You're fine?" he asked softly.

She turned to face him slowly. "I can still walk Jake," she replied and stepped up to be level with him, taking his hand. "Can we just get out of here? This place is creepy." That last sentence was added in an undertone, but from the way his grip on her hand tightened momentarily made her aware that he'd heard it.

~*~*~

She'd helped him hop up stairs for another half an hour when they were forced to have a rest. By her reckoning, Hunter and McNamara were due back just about any moment so if they were lucky the rest of the hike up the stairs would be a piece of cake compared to the current conditions. This time they shared a step to sit on, and she leaned wearily against his shoulder.

"She's probably alright you know," she said, suddenly wondering how Start was.

"Who?" Mac asked.

"Doc S. Diens is good at what she does, an idiot can see that," she replied. When he didn't answer, she lifted her head and looked at him. He was staring fixedly at the toe of his left boot. "Hey," she said gently, reaching out a hand to turn his face towards hers. "She will be fine, so stop worrying yourself sick about her and start worrying about you."

"How do you know that she'll be okay?" he asked seriously.

"I just do. He," she raised her eyes up towards the roof of the cavern they were in, "may move in mysterious ways, but I suspect that our favourite astrophysicist still has a lot left to do on her agenda before he'll be letting her through the pearly gates."

Mac reached up his hand to engulf hers. "I hope you're right," he said, squeezing her fingers tightly.

The quiet moment was interrupted by scrabbling sounds up above them. They both swivelled to look towards the sound, breathing audible sighs of relief when Hunter came into view. The sergeant halted a few steps above them and grinned.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything," she said with a grin, looking pointedly at their clasped hands. Rhea and Mac glanced at each other, pulling apart quickly.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she said, forcing a smile to her face.

//Uh-oh. That's gonna start some rumours...//

~*~*~

"Welcome back Doctor," a voice said, as the darkness began to fade away. Tirion looked up to see Diens, MacDonald and a doctor standing around her. From what she could tell she was in the side room of a hospital.

"You made it," Diens told her.

"It still hurts to breathe," Start said gently.

"I'm not surprised. There was a lot of damage. We had to do an emergency operation," the doctor told her. "We found that you-"

"I don't want to know. Not right now," Start cut him off.

"You gave everyone a couple of scares back there," MacDonald told her. "If Diens hadn't put in a tube to relieve the pressure you would have died."

"Breathing space," Diens said.

"Thanks," Start told the medic.

"I am modest in my work," she replied smiling, her confidence always ever-present.

"Have you heard from the others?" Start asked.

Diens and MacDonald exchanged a brief look. "There's no way of knowing, We're too far out of range. The SGC knows their status, from what information we last had," MacDonald said.

"They'll be fine," Diens said.

Start closed her eyes and wondered if it was true.

~*~*~

"Good to see you, Sergeant," Mac mumbled, pulling away from O'Shea. He caught Hunter's grin. Hell, it's not like they'd be *doing* anything. "Have you heard from Diens?" His first thoughts were for Tirion Start - he knew how badly hurt she'd been.

"They're out of range now, Major," he heard her reply. "But last time I spoke with MacDonald, they had her stabilized and were heading for the nearest hospital."

Mac nodded. He'd expected worse news than that. He allowed Hunter to pull him up and leant on her heavily as he started up once more. He told McNamara she had some time back in the Codex room. He was sure it would take a while for him to make his ascent - plenty of time for her to scout around. "Just stay out of trouble and only 30 minutes."

"Okie dokie," she replied jauntily as she headed downwards. He saw Rhea hesitating. "Go on ahead," he told her, "where I can keep an eye on you."

"But..."

"But nothing," he said softly but firmly. "And Asreal...?" He saw Rhea glance back at him with a puzzled look on her face. "Keep O'Shea out of trouble or I'll personally haul you outta there with my bare hands and tie you in so many knots that even the patience of the entire Tok'ra won't be enough to untangle you. Clear?" He saw Rhea grin, but a slight flash to her eyes indicated her symbiont also understood. She plodded up the steps, followed more slowly by Mackenzie and Hunter. As it was, McNamara had ample time to make notes and observations and *still* catch up with them before they reached the top.

~*~*~

Rhea breathed in the fresh air and let out an appreciative sigh. "Even with the mud, its damn good to be back up here," she said with a grin.

"Uh-huh," Mac grunted from where he was perched on the rock. Hunter was in the process of redoing her splinting job, so the major wasn't exactly in a talkative mood.

"How long do you think it'll take for us to get back to the cars?" she asked anyone who was listening.

"It took MacDonald and Diens only about fifteen hours, but the only injured person with them wasn't in much of a condition to walk," Hunter replied matter-of-factly, ignoring the tightening of Mac's lips. "I'd say its going to take us longer to get back than it did for us to get here in the first place."

"Great..." Rhea crossed her arms over her chest and tried to ignore the way her scraped back was beginning to sting like crazy.

/*Eureka!*/ Asreal said, completely out of the blue.

She was so startled that she spoke aloud, "What?"

/*I've managed to translate some of the codex!*/

"You mean you could actually read that?!" Rhea said in disbelief, then she blushed at the look McNamara gave her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

/*You were to busy getting your own way...*/ With that, Asreal took control. "Be it known that we are the everlasting, the Gods of all that has come and all that will be. We have chosen to protect those of the Tau'ri from the forces that would desire to use them as slaves. We are eternal, and our protection will be eternal. Ever more," she recited in a manner similar to the way an actor would recite Shakespeare.

Three pairs of surprised eyes stared at her as she shook herself away from Asreal's control. "Um, surprise?"

~*~*~

Diens and MacDonald left, leaving Start to her thoughts. Not that she had many - she was too busy being wholly surprised she was actually alive. Even the fact that she felt like road kill didn't bother her so much. Or the fact that she probably looked like it. She was still living and breathing... well.. almost. Reaching up, she traced her fingers along the tube feeding her oxygen. There was something about having air pumped directly up her nostrils that didn’t particularly sit well with the doctor, so she made a mental note to check with the nurse to see if she could get it removed.

She had a fair idea what the answer would be.

Even as she thought it, a young dark-haired woman in a blue gown walked in.

"How are you, Doctor?" She asked in a thick Mexican accent.

"I've felt better..." Tirion whispered. "I don't suppose I could have this tube taken out..."

The nurse chuckled and shook her head. "The others warned me of you. They say you would ask something like this." She moved to the end of the astrophysicist's bed and looked at her chart. "Tube stays."

"Ah."

Closing her eyes, Tirion let her thoughts drift back to the rest of the team. She wondered if they had succeeded in their mission to find the codex. She hoped they did.

*They'd better have... or I've had plastic shoved up my nose for nothing.*

And then... there was Mackenzie. A frown grew on her face. She had very little recollection of the hours in the cave, but she did know he was in no condition to go codex-chasing. That didn't mean he hadn't... Stupid, stubborn idiot.

With that thought in mind, tiredness won over and she fell asleep.

~*~*~

It was a relief - to say the least - to reach the open air once more. Mackenzie sat, trying to keep still, while Hunter re-splinted his foot. A severe amount of lip biting and teeth clenching held back the shouts of pain as he endured it as best he could.

He heard the others discuss the time it was likely to take for them to return to the other Hummer. At least one night's stop was going to be required - he knew that without a doubt. And he wasn't prepared to divide the group again. They stayed together regardless.

He vaguely listened as he heard O'Shea translate some of the inscription McNamara had copied from the Codex, but his mind was on other things. Things such as the quickest way to get back to the transport. He realized there was no hard and fast way...

"Lets move it," he said firmly, using Hunter as a support on one side and McNamara on the other. He was aware of Rhea's injuries and wasn't about to make them any worse. The first camp was reached in a little over six hours...Twice as long as it'd taken on the day before. Mac frowned, knowing that if the same rule applied to the rest of the trek, it was likely to take them two more days to reach the base camp. Too long and not a consideration. A night's sleep and he was sure he'd come up with something better...Or would be able to inject a little more speed into himself.

He watched as McNamara prepared a meal, accepting a plate gracefully, but only managing to push his meal around the dish - the thought of eating it turned his stomach. He put the plate to one side and tried to sleep. But sleep eluded him. All he could see was a pale face with dark brown eyes... looking up at him in agony. Trying to breath with him being unable to do anything other than push her short brown hair away from her face. If only he knew for sure how she was...

~*~*~

Mac opened his eyes to a new day... he'd slept badly and felt weak and exhausted. But he wasn't going to let that slow the group down. He forced some cereal into his stomach, keeping it in place using a fair amount of willpower, before struggling to his feet. He knew they had to start out as early as possible if there was to be a hope of reaching the other camp today. Deep down, Mac knew this was unlikely.

He scrabbled around in the undergrowth, using Hunter’s combat knife to hack a suitable length of wood from a tree. At least with that he could hobble a little faster. That was his hope, at least. The others were ready, waiting and looking his way. Mac pulled himself as straight as he was able and forced a confidence into his face that he far from felt.

"This time tomorrow, we'll be on our way back to Toluca," he told them, narrowing his eyes as if to defy any of them to disagree. They didn't and their journey resumed immediately.

The Hum vee and the base camp finally arrived in sight. By now it was dark - night having descended some hours back, but Mac had ordered them to continue, despite the team's obvious tiredness. "Not much further," he assured them between grunts. He'd been right - sort of. The four of them more or less collapsed into their bed rolls, thoughts of a meal forgotten. Even Mackenzie slept solidly this time.

~*~*~

Equipment was quickly stowed the next morning and Hunter took the driving seat, O'Shea next to her. Mackenzie spread himself gracelessly across the majority of the back seat, leaving just enough space for McNamara to cram into the corner. The return trip to Toluca was underway, during which McNamara constantly tried to raise MacDonald and Diens, succeeding only when they were about 20 miles to the east of Mexico City.

"We're at a small hospital on the city outskirts," Diens reported back to the anthropologist. "A suburb called Moreno. Tirion is doing well. She wanted the Major to know that."

"We'll join you within the hour," McNamara relayed to the medic. In fact it took considerably less time than the full hour and Mackenzie was more than relieved to see MacDonald waiting outside the building. Mac brushed off restraining hands, hopping awkwardly over to the Lieutenant.

"Where is she?" he asked in a low voice. Mac wouldn't settle until he'd seen Start for himself. With MacDonald's help, he hobbled inside and soon found himself looking down at the pale woman. Her eyes were closed. Sleeping, maybe. They flashed open.

//Then again...// Mac added wryly to himself.

"Doc. Gave us a scare," he said, softly. He lowered himself on to the edge of her bed, holding himself back from grabbing her hand in relief.

"What else is there to do, but worry you," she replied in a whisper.

Mackenzie looked up as Diens approached. "Major? Your ankle needs looking at, sir." He frowned and ignored her. "Now, sir," she added.

Tirion looked slightly puzzled. "What have you done now? You promised to keep yourself out of trouble."

Mac chuckled. "And so I did. Just twisted it... that's all," he replied, allowing himself to be half-towed away. Only outside her room did he let the pain show in his face. "Ok, Diens. Stop pulling my arm out of its socket. Just make sure they know I don't want a cast. Understand?" Mac knew all too well a cast meant even longer recovery time and muscle wastage. That wasn't a consideration in his book.

~*~*~

"Geez, do they *have* to take so long," McNamara complained.

"Of course they bloody well do. First they pull rank on us and then they take their own sweet time. I thought my sister was bad," Rhea replied grumpily - after their trip to the hospital Mac had immediately pegged the showers for his and MacDonald's use. "Oh, screw this. I've had enough."

"What are you going to do?" Hunter asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to hurry them along," she said.

"By doing what?" McNamara reiterated.

"I don't know, but I'm sick of waiting to get cleaned up. I look like the friggin' wild woman of Borneo for pity's sake!" she gestured down to her legs, which were doing a passable impersonation of a gorilla's.

"I thought that Asreal could do something about that?" Hunter said, her eyes dancing with humour.

"She won't, the bitch," Rhea grouched and grabbed her pack. "I'll be back - hopefully preceded by two males."

"Good luck!" Diens called after her as she stalked down the hall from the room that they'd been allowed to wait in to the ablutions 'block'.

When she finally got there, she pushed open the door and was almost choked by steam. //Bastards are using all the hot water!// she thought irately. //I'll fix them!// She dumped her pack onto a bench in the actual locker room area and began to strip off. Grabbing the towel that had so kindly been provided for her personal use, she slung it over her shoulder and strolled into the shower area.

"Hi fellas," she said nonchalantly, slotting herself into the last shower possie.

~*~*~

Mac was so surprised at Rhea's sudden appearance in the showers that he nearly dropped the soap.

"Jesus H, Rhea, what the hell are you doing in here!?" Mac thundered, not sure where to look - or what to hide! He glanced at MacDonald who looked equally stunned.

He saw her grin up at him. "You know me, Mac. Shameless," she threw at him as she stood under the water jets.

Mackenzie glowered at the woman's back as she washed her hair. MacDonald, he noted had walked away lightly, obviously leaving this one in his CO's hands, for want of a more appropriate term.

"O'Shea," he tried again, inserting a fair whack of authority into his tone.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled back.

"You can't be in here. Give us a minute and we'll get out of here. Then you can stay as long as you want. Forever for all I care!"

"Cool it, Mackenzie," she said, spinning her head round to face him and glancing south. "Think back, I've seen just about all I need to see before."

Mac scowled, knowing she was referring to the time when he'd needed her help to... He scowled at MacDonald as he heard the him chuckle softly.

"Lieutenant? You have something to add, perhaps?" he asked in a deceivingly mild tone.

"No, sir," came the reply and Mac looked at the other man suspiciously.

Mac looked around in almost full-fledged panic. He dove under the water to rinse off, feeling himself about to blow a fuse at a situation that he had lost all control over. He looked left to see MacDonald still sniggering to himself and right to see...

//DAMN!//

A naked female, her hair was now soaked and looked even longer without the curls in it. Reaching all the way down to...

//DAMN!// he repeated to himself, turning away abruptly.

~*~*~

Rhea noticed Mac turning away and all but covering his eyes with his hands - and she couldn't suppress the grin. "Got a problem with the view?" she enquired sweetly. Just when she was certain that he'd turned the perfect shade of magenta, she turned around and silently stepped up behind him with a bar of soap in one hand. "Want your back washed?" she said, pressing up against his back and running her hands up his sides.

Mac just about levitated with shock, and proceeded to turn a deep shade of purple. "Let go of me!" he squeaked in a choked up voice.

"But your back needs washing!" she said innocently, barely able to suppress her laughter. This was *way* more fun than she'd ever imagined! Rubbing the soap between her hands, she proceeded to lather up his back... with her hands venturing a little further south.

"Bloody hell!!" he yelped when she pinched his backside. He spun around and literally shoved her away.

Unfortunately, for him at least, he didn't move his hands from her shoulders quickly enough and she took advantage of this. Stepping forward quickly she grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and hooked a foot behind his knees - sweeping his feet from underneath him. Her other hand grabbed one of his wrists and she was able to stop him from cracking his skull open on the tiles with ease. She took care to avoid the waterproof splinting around his ankle – it wouldn’t be any fun if she kicked his injury because then he’d be kicking her.

Before he had a chance to recover from this sudden change in orientation, she straddled him across the stomach and looked down at him (all the while ignoring the shocked noises coming from MacDonald). Raising an eyebrow, she allowed a quasi-evil grin to spread across her mouth. "Got a problem now, major?" she asked in a tone that suggested sweetness and light with an undercurrent of pure raunch. She placed one hand on either side of his perfectly formed chest and leant down a bit further to kiss him lightly on the lips.

Before she could blink, she suddenly found herself pinned under his superior weight and looking up into some not-particularly-amused blue eyes. "Now who's got the problem?"

She wrapped her arm around his torso and squirmed slightly. "Not me, I can tell you that *right* now."

~*~*~

Mackenzie's reactions to the outlandish behaviour of O'Shea had ranged from initial shock, through complete embarrassment, furious anger to what he felt now. He leant closer...closer to her, until his face was a mere couple of inches from hers.

"What the hell are you playing at, O'Shea?" he whispered softly, amusement etched across his face. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear this was some half-assed seduction attempt. But we both know that *isn't* likely to happen, don't we? Not unless hell freezes over and last I heard the weather down there was hot and humid." In his peripheral vision he caught sight of movement from the other man.

"Hold it right there, lieutenant," he barked, halting MacDonald in his tracks as he tried to escape.

"Sir!" came his response.

Mac looked down at the woman beneath him. "Now, where were we? Ahhh... that's right. What's the game?"

Rhea looked back at him, trying - badly - to look innocent. "I don't know what you mean, Mac," she tried.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? Then I'll put it to you that the main reason for...," he waved a hand around, "all of this was to cause embarrassment... Right?" She didn't reply so Mac continued. "Thing is, who was the victim. Me? MacDonald?" Still no reply. "Maybe a bit of each, even?" O'Shea wouldn't meet his eyes and he lifted himself up off her, hauling her none too gently to her feet.

"If I didn't think you'd enjoy it, I'd kick your tail from here back to the base," he scolded her, trying not to grin as he saw her expression. He saw her sneak a look up at him, wondering how serious he was. He frowned back.

"Now, I *think* the lieutenant and myself have done here. The shower's all yours O'Shea," he threw at her as he grabbed a nearby towel. "Have fun," he added as he left, trailed after by a totally bemused MacDonald.

~*~*~

Rhea grinned broadly as the two men stalked out of the shower recess. Then a parting shot struck her over the head like a wet mullet.

"Oh major?" she called in a sing-song voice, not daring to emerge from where she was standing.

"WHAT?!" came the irate reply.

"You should lay off the garlic. Your breath stinks." Then she burst into laughter.

A few minutes later some very bemused female members of SG-15 strode into the bathroom. “What’d you do?” McNamara asked curiously.

“Yeah, the major didn’t look too pleased,” Diens chipped in.

Rhea shrugged. “I just offered to wash his back,” was all she said.

~*~*~

Jake Mackenzie walked, as angrily as he could with one foot in plaster, away from the showers. 'Bloody Rhea O'Shea,' he muttered to himself. He knew *exactly* what her little plan had been. He was sick of his foot hurting and sick of Mexico. He'd told Diens he hadn't wanted a plaster cast and he intended to get his own way right now. In temper, he barged into the duty doc's office, glad to see it was the guy who at least spoke English.

"Senor Mackenzie," he said, smiling at the scowling man. "How may I help you?"

"By cutting this damned thing off," he retorted, pointing at his injury.

"Your foot, senor?"

Mac scowled even more. "No... not my foot..." he muttered under his breath, condemning the man in front of him to eternal damnation... "the cast. I don't want a cast."

The doctor returned his dark look slightly before shrugging. "Very well," he replied, proceeding to remove the plaster. "But it will hurt more this way."

Mac didn't reply. He'd done this before with broken bones. Hell, he *knew* it would bloody well hurt more and restrained himself from hitting the other man with a commendable amount of self-restraint. But he also knew the break would heal quicker if he could at least keep the muscles toned. It took a great deal of ground teeth to stop Mac from crying out - the doc seemed to be using as little care and attention as he could get away with without having his ethics called into doubt. Eventually Mackenzie was able to hop carefully back upright - a heavy duty bandage now in place of the constricting cast. A great improvement. He growled his thanks at the man and hopped carefully to the adjacent ward.

There was a certain person he wanted to see...

~*~*~

The room he was heading for just *had* to be the furthest one down the corridor. By the time Mackenzie had reached it he'd broken out in a light sweat, but was determined to continue. He had to see her. To make sure she was all right. Earlier...hell, she'd looked like death! He poked his head around the door to make sure he had the right room and that she wasn't sleeping. He had and she wasn't.

"Doc..." he began. "How's things?"

Tirion had been dozing lightly when she heard Mackenzie coming down the corridor. It was hard not to.. it was clear to the doctor who it was when he was only half-way there. When he appeared at the entrance to her room, clearly flustered with the amount of effort it had taken him, she had to suppress a chuckle.

"Just dandy.." She whispered. Truth be told, her chest ached and the bandage around it was a little too tight for her liking.. the IV itched her hand.. and then there was the matter of the plastic tubes.. She watched him as he hobbled into the room. "You broke it, didn't you?"

"What?" Mac involuntarily glanced down at his left foot. "Only a bit, doc," he added, grinning at her. He hobbled to her bedside, his grin freezing when he saw she wasn't amused, and perched on the edge of her bed.

"How about you?" he continued.

"Tired... and I want to go home." She looked away. "I'm sick of bloody Mexico."

Mac laughed softly. "I know. Me too." He looked down at her, wanting so much to hold her like he had in the forest. Then, she'd been unconscious and hadn't been able to treat him like he knew she would now.

"We'll get you shipped back to the base pretty soon. As soon as the docs say you can be moved. Ok?"

Tirion made a face. "The doctors seem hell bent on making me as uncomfortable as possible." She paused to catch her breath, looking him up and down carefully. "You sure there's nothing else that should be bandaged... or.. strapped or... something?"

"I'm sure," he told her, frowning slightly. Why did it always feel like she was scolding him? Like he always had to try so hard to do the right thing for her? "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he said in a low voice, starting to heave himself upright. "You need your rest."

The doctor frowned. For once, she hadn't meant anything by her comment. "Running away already?" she asked softly.

Mac looked back at her. "Running? You think I'm running? From what?" The last thing he wanted to do was to leave, but...

"From me.."

Mac sat back down. What *had* he been running from? Who... more importantly. He looked down at her. "Yeah... maybe..." he replied.

A smile tugged at her lips even as her stomach tightened. "Don't worry. I would too."

Jake Mackenzie wasn't sure what to make of her words. Then again, conversations with Tirion usually left him feeling confused. He frowned again as he gazed at her. She looked so... "They said you punctured a lung. Does it hurt a lot still?" His tone conveyed his concern pretty well.

"It probably would if I could breathe deeply enough..." She closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them again. "But the bandage pretty much keeps that from happening. What about you? What's the damage?"

Mac looked at her in worry, and had to be reminded to answer her question. "Huh? Just my foot, and a couple of fingers... Nothing much else." He laughed softly. "Apart from a huge dent to my ego of course. But all the above will mend, I hope."

He shifted slightly on her bed, trying to ease the ache in his foot and wondering whether his decision to get rid of the plaster had been wise. He knew he wouldn't ask for it to be replaced though. No way.

His left hand drifted a little - sub-consciously heading for her hand as it lay on the bed cover - before he realized and stopped himself.

Tirion watched his hesitation. She clenched her jaw muscles and looked away. He treated her as if she was a grenade - ready to go off any time. "I don't blame you." She said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I can't be grateful you hauled my ass out of the mud."

"Don't blame me?" Now he was totally confused. "And I'd do anything I could to keep you safe," he said. "All the team, I mean," came his hasty addition. Mac knew he'd collared up slightly and was angry with himself for his slight slip. "This is ridiculous," he almost snapped.

Nodding carefully, she closed her eyes again. "I'm sorry."

Mac was torn, not knowing whether to go or stay. He wanted to stay, but it felt like Tirion didn't. She lay with her eyes closed, shutting him out, and his heart almost broke. If only he hadn't treated her like he had when they'd first met. Hell, he'd been such a fool!

"No... Tirion... you've nothing to be sorry for. It's me. My fault." Mac bit his lip, surer than ever that he couldn't repair the damage he'd caused back then. And since.

She shook her head, but didn't open her eyes. "Stop it, Jake. You're not the only one at fault... it was bad timing... for both of us."

"Bad timing?" he smiled humorously. "Yeah... that would cover it," he said wryly. His command of SG-15 had been nothing *but* bad timing.

But this mission...? It'd been a disaster. He'd nearly lost a member of his team. Nearly lost her. "I was... worried," he stuttered. "No, that's not true. Hell, Tirion, I was scared. Scared that you'd.."

"Keel over?" She finished for him. "I thought I was going to too.. totally. When Diens woke me up I felt like slapping her for busting my plans..." Once again, lack of breath got the better of her and she stopped. "I thought about a lot of things... I realised I have... a lot of loose ends. Some I knew I would never tie up.. but some I knew I could..."

She opened her eyes and turned towards him. "I never thought you were replacing Ryan... I never... expected you to be her... at all."

Mac's eyes snapped up at her last comment. It had hit him like a broadside. "It felt like that to me. Seemed everyone expected me to be like her. Act her way. I can't do that... be like that. I know they were all disappointed when she left. I tried my best to fit in, but all I seemed to do was push everyone," he paused to look at her again, "even further away."

She laughed a restricted laugh. "Please Jake.. nobody had the chance to know Alex Ryan. Hunter and MacDonald.. maybe.. but.. even then, not that well. They weren't angry at you..."

"And neither was I," she added. "Although.. I know it didn't come across that way..."

"It's just that it's.... hard to take someone else's place, you know? And yeah... I got the impression you didn't want me around," he said, reaching once more for her hand without thinking. His fingers touched hers and it was too late to pull away. Mac braced himself for a scathing comment.

Start's eyes flicked down to where his hand sat on the bed, next to hers. Looking him in the eye, she moved her hand so that it covered his, and squeezed it as hard as she could.

"Give me a break Mackenzie. Everyone gets the impression I don't want them around... but it doesn't make it true." She took her hand away.

She turned to look up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. "Now... I don't want you around..." She slurred tiredly. "Go do the CO thing..."

Jake stood slowly, feeling the warmth of her hand even after he'd pulled away from her. He walked slowly out of the room and leant against the wall outside. What the hell had happened, was the question he asked himself. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to answer his own question. He smiled ruefully as he pushed himself off the wall. Understand Tirion Start? That wasn't something he would be able to do in a hurry, he knew that. He rubbed his hand as he hobbled away, completely and utterly confused, but at the same time finally seeing what he'd been trying so hard not to.