December 26th 2004

I’m back in the infirmary.  After last nights Christmas Party, I had a little too much to drink and collapsed in the hallway.  If Rodney hadn’t gotten up in the search of coffee early on this morning then the state I’m in could have been a lot worse.  There’s a lesson I’ve learnt.  Never mix meds and alcohol.  
    I didn’t come round until 4.30 this afternoon and by that time Carson was in a foul mood.  He looked worse for ware himself when he gave me a lecture on taking medication and drinking.  I didn’t point out that he was hammered himself the night before and that if he had told me during dinner that I shouldn’t have drunk so much then I would have taken heed.  But he was at the end of his tether and I thought it best not to.
    I was told later by Nurse Bella that by the time she’d got Carson back to his quarters, there was a small gathering outside of his room.  Medical had begun playing a drinking game and he had insisted in taking part.  Apparently he put up quite an argument and Bella couldn’t be bothered arguing back.
    10 minutes later Carson had begun to sing a rather crude version of ‘Here’s a Little Teapot’ which one of the Medical team had recorded.  Carson had woken up in the morning to find the whole Medical Team laughing at him.  He’d apparently nearly died of shame when informed of the previous nights entertainment.
    I’m back in my quarters now, drinking large amounts of water might I add.  Rodney popped his head around the door and said hey.  I think he was checking up on me, but when I asked why I was in the hallway where his quarters were and not in my own, he turned a violent shade of red and left swiftly.  
    Now I think about it…Oh, God…we didn’t…did we?  Had he…kissed me?!

                                                                                                        -oOo-

Rodney’s first thought was, “Oh God my head, what have I done to my head?” he winced.  He was lay on his chest, his head buried in the pillows.  He rolled over and sat up slowly.  He was fully clothed and his crutches were strewn on the floor.  He got up and tested his knee with his full weight.  It was actually feeling much better.  Unlike his head.
    He changed into a clean pair of trousers and a clean shirt after downing a glass of water and two heavy duty painkillers.  He left his room, crutchless but limping, in the search of coffee and maybe a cookie.
    He took his usual route up to the labs, where it was more than likely someone had just started a fresh pot of industrial strength coffee they all consumed.  
    He rounded the corner and frowned.  There was someone passed out, face down on the floor.  He hurries forward and rolls them over.  It’s Rachel.  He checks for a pulse and checks her breathing.  Both are okay but he can’t wake her up.  He hit’s the com in his ear.  “Dr Beckett, in fact anyone, get down to the Science Lab Hallway.  Dr Miller’s passed out, I think she’s been here all night.” he says hurriedly.
    He takes his jacket off and covers her up with it.  He holds her hand gently, stroking the hair from her face until Carson arrives and tells him to get out of the way while she was placed onto a stretcher.  “You’re lucky you found her when you did, any longer and she would have slipped into a coma.” Carson informed Rodney.
“So she’s going to be okay?” the scientist replied, worry on his face.
“Aye, we’ll put her on a drip.  And she might need to have her stomach pumped.  How much did she have to drink last night?”
“I don’t know I was too dru- tired…I was too…tired.” Rodney replies, sheepishly looking at the floor.  Carson gives him an angry glare.  Well it’s not as if he had room to talk, Rodney remembered the state the Doctor was in the night before and it was in no way as bad as Rachel and himself.  Carson just sighs and heads back to the infirmary to tend to his new patient.

Carson was jumping by midday.  There had been 23 admissions to deal with, and that was before he’d had his dinner.  There were 4 broken wrists, 9 lacerations, 6 sprained ankles, a dislocated shoulder, 2 heavy nosebleeds that wouldn’t stop and by far the worst, Rachel Miller drinking while on meds.
    Carson sat at his desk sipping from a steaming hot cup of tea.  He rubbed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his report.  His eyes slipped up to the calendar on the wall and he groaned.  Just six days until New Year.  If he thought the cases he’d had on Boxing Day weren’t enough, New Years Day was going to be worse.  He sighed and got up, best do his round.
    Everyone was doing fine and even Rachel had finally snapped out of her heavy sleep.  She was looking very sheepishly over at Carson, she knew exactly what was coming.  Okay it had been his fault, as her Doctor and Head of the Medical Team, he should have warned her, but he himself had consumed rather a large amount of alcohol himself.  “How’re you feeling?” Carson asks Rachel brusquely.
“Like someone has driven a truck into the side of my head, other than that…deeply embarrassed.”  she replies, not looking up at Carson.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous it was drinking that amount of alcohol after taking your medication?  You could have died.  If Rodney hadn’t found you when he did then you could have slipped into a coma, and God knows how long you would have been here for.”
“I’m sorry, Dr Beckett.” Rachel replies in a small voice, her eyes welling up.  Carson sighs and puts a hand gently on her fidgeting hands.  He’s not really used to Rachel calling him Dr Beckett, they had always got on very well and since the day they’d met they had been on first name terms and only really called each other Doctor when they were in a formal situation.  So for her to call him Dr Beckett she must feel like she is really in the dog house.
    He smiles at her gently and rubs her on the shoulder.  “It’s okay love, you’re young, we all make mistakes when we’re young.  I remember my 18th Birthday.  Well sort of…” he pauses and frowns.
“What happened?”
“I couldn’t tell you, I woke up in the local hospital with my arm in plaster and a terrible hangover.  Apparently we had been leaving one of the pubs and there were a flight of stairs leading down to the street and I fell from the top to the bottom, bounced off the last step and landed on my arm.” he explained.  His eyes had a glazed far away look to them.  Rachel sniffed and Carson looked back at her.  “Thank you…Carson.” she muttered.  He just smiled and began to write up her discharge paper.

Rachel had left the infirmary and headed straight to the cafeteria.  It seemed the whole of Atlantis was suffering from the mother of all hangovers.  Even the coffee tasted off.  Rachel grabs a sandwich and heads back to her quarters.  She doesn’t like how quiet Atlantis is, with so many people in bed still and those who were up too fragile to make a noise, it is as silent as the grave.
    Rachel falls back onto her bed and pulls the sandwich out of the box taking a huge bite.  Just as she is about to devour another mouthful there’s a knock at her door.  “Come in.” she yells in a muffled voice.  Why was it that when people wanted to talk to her she was always eating.  She didn’t like eating around people, it was rude, and she was paranoid about people seeing her eat.
    Rodney pokes his head through the door and Rachel waves him inside.  He nervously walks through the door and floats by Rachel’s wardrobe tentatively.  “How are you feeling?” he asks with a smile.
“Hungry, you?”
“Like someone has put my brain in a blender.”
“Know that feeling.  How much did we drink last night?”
“I actually have no idea.”
“Listen thanks again for you know, getting the Wraith off me and you know stopping from slipping into a coma and all that,” Rachel pauses and frowns, “Huh, I just can’t understand why I was in the corridor to the labs when my quarters are the opposite way.”
“Yeah, um, well,” Rodney mumbles looking at his watch, “I should really get going I-I should really, you know get on with some work.  I-I…” he trails off.  He practically runs out the door, his face burning red.  Rachel blinks, trying to comprehend what just happened when things start to unfog from the previous night.  It dawns on her why Rodney ran from the room and her eyes go wide in shock.  “Oh my God…he kissed me!”

The Diary of Dr Rachel Miller P.h.D. (From The Waters of Atlantis) by Sarahannah Lydia Eve Hopwood is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
Based on a work at stargate.mgm.com.