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"Heard you were sick."

Rodney sniffed. "Yes, well, actually it's a little more serious than that." His eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

John set the bag down. "Fruit. Traditional."

"Grapes?" Rodney sat up abruptly. "Sheppard, I'm touched. And not sharing." He reached into the bag and froze. "I'm holding a lemon."

"Relax, Rodney."

"Oh, my God, why a lemon?"

"That," John said, flicking the bag, "can kill you. The stomach flu can't. See the difference? I want you back on duty tomorrow."

The lemon hit the back of his head as he walked away.

Yep. Rodney was feeling better.

And ow.


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