R. Tom Mato

FIC: Going Green (G)

2008-09-11T06:31:08Z

Title: Going Green
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: G
Characters: Katie, Rodney
Word Count: 278
Spoilers: Before Quarantine.
Summary: Katie makes a "wish." For the Role Reversal Challenge at sga_flashfic.

She really hadn't meant for this to happen. The description--and she had been *really careful* in translating it--had said it was a learning device, an aid in understanding. She just wanted her and Rodney to have more in common and more to talk about. If she could understand more about astrophysics and if he'd just give botany *half* a chance than they'd be better for it.

She hadn't expected *this* to happen.

"I think the corn-hybrid is going to do really well on the mainland, almost as good as the wheat-hybrid I engineered during our first year here," Rodney was explaining with an enthusiasm he used to display when describing some hard-earned achievement with the Ancient defense systems in Atlantis. His hands were encased in thick green gardner's gloves and there were streaks of dirt up his arms and a couple on his forehead--probably from where he wiped the sweat away. And he was sweaty; his blue science t-shirt clung to his skin and his face was flushed a dark pink from being away all day on the mainland with the Athosians. "Soon we'll have corn on the cob. I *love* corn on the cob."

A couple of science team members from engineering passed them, one rolling his eyes and muttering "botanists" in a dismissive tone she had heard all too often.

But now Rodney turned, eyes narrowing. "Yeah, you just remember who keeps you grease monkeys *fed* around here!" he shouted after them. He huffed and looked back at her.

He was grinning, and she found herself unable to keep from grinning back.

She hadn't meant for this to happen, but it wasn't necessarily a *bad* thing.

Fic: Space Cowboys (PG)

2007-06-24T03:53:26Z

Title: Space Cowboys
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Characters: Mensa!Sheppard, Rod McKay, Mensa!Teyla, Mensa!Ronon
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: Mensa-verse
Summary: John decides to try a change of style after hearing about Colonel Sheppard, with disastrous results.
Warnings: Hahahahaha. No.
Notes: I found the beginning of this in one of my notebooks and needed a break from my other projects, so I transferred it over to my laptop and just…kept writing. I can never write what I’m supposed to. What the hell.

===

John tugged at the hem of his t-shirt self-consciously. He was positive that it was the same size as his science shirts but it kept riding up. Were they supposed to do that? He tugged it down again and steeled himself, setting his shoulders--then letting them slump into a practiced slouch. He was cool, he told himself as he walked into the lab; he was cool and calm and smooth.

He came up beside Rod and stuck a hip out, letting his body tilt so the table would catch him. "Hey, McKay, you wan--"

Which is how he found himself on the floor with Rod yelling "oh my God, John!" He blinked, trying to focus. If he closed one eye, he was fine; everything was blurry through the other eye.

"John, John," Rod kept repeating. He was on the floor as well, running his fingers through John's hair (which was actually kind of nice). "Is this hair gel? I mean, can you hear me? John, I swear if you gave yourself a concussion..."

"No, no," John mumbled, closing the blurry eye. "I think I lost a contact lens."

"Yes, because that's what we worry about when you hit your head," Rod groused. "You're not bleeding, but let's get you to Carson anyway."

He sat back and his hands left John's hair (not nice at all), but then he was grabbing John's hands and tugging him to his feet.

"I'm fine, really," John tried to explain, still squinting with his one eye. "I need to find my contact lens."

"I'll look for it later," Rod promised, shifting his fingers from John's hand to his wrist and leading him out of the lab. "Where are your glasses?"

"In my room."

Rod nodded and tapped his radio. "Ronon, would you run by John's room and grab his glasses, please? We'll be in the infirmary." There was a pause. "Possible concussion."

"I do not have a concussion!" John protested, and then tried to lean across Rod to repeat it into the radio. "I do not have a concussion!"

Rod batted him away with his free hand. "Thank you, Ronon," he said, then turned the radio off.

Five minutes later had John sitting on one of the beds in the infirmary, cringing as Carson prodded at the good-sized lump he had acquired on the back of his head. He had his glasses on and the lone contact lens rested in a case next to him. They'd done the light-in-the-eyes bit and whatever else Carson had deemed necessary and while John didn't seem to have a concussion, he was going to have one hell of a headache.

Carson went over to one of the medicine cupboards and came back with a small bottle of regular aspirin. "Take these and if the pain becomes unbearable, get back here and we'll see what we can do."

John nodded and took the pills, sliding off of the bed. Rod and Ronon were standing nearby, watching the whole thing. Rod looked concerned and confused while Ronon just seemed to think it was hilarious once he saw that John was fine. John hurried by them as he left the infirmary, but they followed close behind.

"I don't need babysitters," he complained.

"Why don't you just take the rest of the day off?" Rod offered. "Get some rest and come back tomorrow? Nothing important is going on right now."

Ronon huffed a laugh. "He probably shouldn't be left in his rooms alone. He might slip again."

John spun around and glared, causing a passing scientist to have to change their course quickly to avoid running into him. Rod cringed and Ronon grinned. "I. Am. Fine."

"Your shirt's riding up," Ronon pointed out, nodding toward his waist.

With a frustrated yell, John yanked his shirt down and stomped off to the nearest transporter. He wanted the lab and the quiet and the lack of annoying team members.

"What are you wearing?" Radek asked as soon as he stepped through the doors.

John glowered at him, stalking to his desk in the far corner of the lab. "It's casual day."

"Yes," Radek agreed slowly. "This for you usually means oversized sweatshirts, not a tiny black t-shirt that shows your stomach."

John flushed and tugged the hem down again. "It's not supposed to." He threw himself into his seat and turned away, powering up his laptop. The t-shirt rode up in the back, exposing the area above his hips and the waistband of his underwear. He let out a groan and let his head fall to the desk.

===

The black t-shirt ended up shoved under his bed, where hopefully the Ancient dust-bunnies would eat it. His contact lens was never recovered, so he had to break out the spare pair. If he went through them as fast as the last pair, Elizabeth wasn't going to let him requisition new ones for months.

Not wearing his glasses was taking some getting used to. The lenses made John blink a lot and he was constantly rubbing the bridge of his nose and behind his ears and he kept trying to push up frames that weren't there. He found that if he left the contacts in too long they made his eyes water and poking himself in the eye to put them in and take them out was getting really annoying.

He wouldn't wear them anymore except that Rod had complimented his eyes the other day while the team was having a movie night (where Rod had gotten that idea, he didn't want to know). Well, what he'd really said was that he hadn't realized John's eyes were more hazel than brown without the glasses in the way, but he'd been looking right at John when he'd said it and he'd been smiling.

John had scratched the "slouchy-cool" after his infirmary visit, but tried to up his pleasantness. He was nicer to everyone, which wasn't as hard with certain people as he'd thought it would be, and learned to feign interest with the natives off world that didn't even have any interesting technology.

Of course, he apparently was too nice to the wrong person and had to be rescued by his team after the village's mayor or chief or whatever he was had accused him of trying to sully his daughter. Ronon had blown up the entire wall of the jail cell with some C-4 and his gun, then all but dragged him back to the Stargate with the natives chasing behind them.

"What did you do!" he shouted as they ran.

"I didn't do anything!" John yelled back. "I was just being nice!"

"Then don't do it again!"

Rod and Teyla were already dialing the 'gate and sending their IDC through, so they didn't even slow down.

===

He tried not to do it again, he really did. However, it seemed that every mission after that had them either running to the 'gate or needing to be rescued by one of the primary teams. The only reason half of them ended without them being put to death was that they knew these planets and Elizabeth managed to smooth it all over as a mishap in their relationship that would not reoccur.

By the sixth mission they were told that they would be suspended from 'gate travel if they didn't fix whatever it was that was that was causing all these disasters, so Rod had rounded up the team and locked them all in his quarters for a good, long talk.

"Stop staring at me!" John whined, glaring at each of his team members in turn.

"You're the one that's been getting into trouble," Ronon stated.

Rod held up his hands. "Now, hey, we're not trying to lay blame here."

"I'm afraid I have noticed this pattern as well," Teyla spoke up, and John turned to her, betrayed. She frowned at him in apology. "Your behavior has changed in the last two months, and I believe these changes are what are getting us into trouble with the people we visit."

"But I'm not doing anything!" John tried to explain. "I was just being nice."

"I told you to stop that," Ronon scolded, eyes narrowed.

"I'm allowed to be nice!"

Rod sighed. "There has to be something. Okay, on the last planet, it happened at dinner." He got up and went to the small table in his dining area. "You were sitting here--" He pointed and looked at John, who stood and slowly moved over to the seat indicated. "Teyla, you were on the other side here, next to the matriarch, and Ronon, you were next to her."

The three of them were seated at the table, silently watching Rod as he worked out the scenario in his head. After a moment he tapped his radio.

"Radek, this is Rod. Is Allison busy? Either. Simpson, then. Send her to my room immediately, please. Rod out."

John frowned. "What do we need her for?"

"She's going to play the part of the woman you were talking to at dinner," Rod stated.

Simpson arrived a few minutes later, data pad and tools in hand, and looked startled when Rod sat her at the table next to John. The two eyed each other for a moment but didn't say anything.

"Well, come on," Rod prompted, sitting on the other side of John. "Talk."

John turned to glare. "What do you mean, 'talk'? I barely know her!"

"Dr. McKay, what are we doing?" Simpson asked, leaning forward to look around John.

"It's a simulation, please play along," Rod pleaded. "John, just talk to her. About anything."

John gave him an odd look, but turned to Simpson anyway. "All right. What have you been working on in the labs lately?"

The conversation started out stilted, but John soon found himself relaxing as she talked and nodded at the right parts and giving his comments where appropriate. It wasn’t like he was interested in her projects or how she had twice the lab space since Kavanaugh had left, but he was being friendly. People liked to think that you cared. He chatted casually, managing to forget that the other people in the room were staring at him, until Rod pushed his seat back quickly and stood.

"All right, that's enough," he exclaimed, jerking John out of his conversation. "Allison, thank you, you can return to the labs now."

Teyla and Ronon stood as well, though more slowly. Simpson got up from her seat as well and started toward the door, but instead of going out she turned around and looked at John.

"Dr. Sheppard, I'm free Thursday evening if you'd like to…do something," she announced with a sly smile, and then she was gone.

John sat there with his mouth open, then looked up at his team. "What just happened?"

"You honestly have no idea?" Rod asked in disbelief.

“I was being nice,” he replied defensively. “Was it that bad?”

“Yes,” Ronon answered, and Teyla bit her lip and nodded her head.

“It is not so much what you say as the way you say it, John,” she explained. “You…I do not know how to say it properly. You are very charming.”

John straightened a little in his seat. “Charming, really?” he asked, smiling and leaning back. “Thanks, Teyla.”

She broke eye contact with him and he thought she seemed almost shy for a moment. “You’re welcome. I believe I will turn in, it is getting late. Good night.”

They exchanged good nights and Ronon left as well, but John stayed sitting at the table. Rod leaned against the edge of it (damn him and his perfect balance) and waited until the doors slid shut behind Ronon before saying anything.

“You really don’t know how you act, do you?”

The words hang uselessly in the air and John slumps forward in his seat, resting his arms on the table, and shrugs. He stared at Rod expectantly, waiting for the explanation.

“It’s just…you lean, and you smile, and I swear Allison probably thought she was the most special person in the whole room with you looking at her like that.” He frowned, then his eyes widened. “Oh my God, Rodney warned me about this.” John raised an eyebrow, ready to ask just what he was talking about when Rod kept going. “His Sheppard does what you’re doing now, only he does it all the time. Rodney asked me if you were like that and I just laughed. No, not my Sheppard. The only trouble he gets us into is when he can’t keep his mouth shut and insults someone.”

“Hey,” John protested, although even he knew it was true. He certainly wasn’t ashamed of it.

“His Sheppard doesn’t even know when he’s doing it either, that’s just it,” Rod rambled on. “He just talks and the women jump him and the men try to kill him.” He finally looked at John and pointed a finger at him, a stern expression on his face. “You are not allowed near any ascended beings, do you hear me? Ever.”

“All right,” John agreed slowly. It wasn’t like he was itching to jump on that bandwagon anyhow.

“Or anyone with the gene not of this expedition,” Rod added. “We don’t have that planet on our list but seeing how our luck is turning, we’ll probably find it. You are not a studhorse.”

All right, now Rod was just being weird. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Oh no.” He shook his head. “No, no, no. He gave me a list, said it was inevitable. I thought he was joking at the time, but apparently my double isn’t completely paranoid.”

“There’s a list?” John stood up, sighing. “Okay, this is going too far. I’ll stop, all right?”

Rod gave him a sympathetic look. “You can’t help it, John. I understand. We’ll just have to adjust the team dynamics a little so that someone can keep an eye on you.”

“I can too help it! I’ve been doing this on purpose!” he confessed, waving an arm to encompass all of the crap he put himself through in the last couple of months.

“You just said you didn’t mean for it to happen!” Rod exclaimed.

“Well, not the part where they jump me,” John clarified. “The part where I act like a decent guy. I can stop.” He crossed his arms over his chest, determinedly not sulking. “It wasn’t worth it anyway.”

“What? You can’t just—“ Rod’s hands fluttered in the air before falling to his sides. “—flip a switch.”

He shrugged. “Can too.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“I was trying to be more like Colonel Sheppard,” John bit out, gritting his teeth and rolling his eyes. “You kept going on about how cool he was and how nice he was to everyone; it was getting annoying. I thought it would be useful to see what the big deal was."

Rod was staring at him as though he’d gone insane, which, admittedly, John was pretty sure he had for a bit. “So, you just decided to be nice all of a sudden.”

John shrugged again. “It was part of a five step plan.”

“Plan. The contacts, then?”

“Part of the plan.” He nodded.

“Was that why you wore that black t-shirt—“

“Yeah, we’re not mentioning that ever again,” John ordered.

“You looked good,” Rod stated.

“Ever,” he repeated. He wasn’t going near his clumsy attempts at playing it cool. He had to save some dignity.

Rod frowned a little but let that go. “Fine. Seriously, though, a step plan? Your plans never work. And I can’t believe you would do all this just because I mentioned the differences between you and the Colonel.”

John’s eyes narrowed. They did too work. Occasionally. “It was more than a mention, McKay.”

“Really? I didn’t think I was talking about it that much,” Rod replied, looking thoughtful.

“Every time someone asked you to tell them what happened in the other universe.”

"But I talked about everyone from there. John, you didn’t have to try to change yourself because you felt inadequate; I like you just the way you are,” he said with a smile and John was going to kill him.

“Inadequate?” he asked, voice dangerously low and causing Rod’s smile to falter. “You think I felt inadequate?”

“Er, well, the behavioral differences and the changes in your appearance,” Rod hastened to clarify. “You’ve got gel in your hair!”

“You’ve been a lot mouthier lately,” John shot back. “And Teyla’s been hanging around us more and Ronon hugged me a month and a half ago.”

Rod blinked. “He’s hugged you?”

“After the whole nearly dying because I couldn’t ascend thing.” He nodded. “I thought he was going to have a heart attack.”

"Oh."

"Yeah, it was terrifying."

Rod bit his lip, glancing around the room quickly before looking back at John. "You really don't have to act like him."

He sighed. "I wasn't doing it to please you."

"I didn't think that. Okay, I don't want you to act like him, all right? He was...creepy," Rod said lamely.

John snorted. "You liar, you thought he was the coolest thing ever. SG-1 cool."

Rod got that smile he got whenever Carter was even slightly mentioned, then shrugged. "He was a space cowboy. All of them, like the heroes out of a science fiction novel. You tell me that's not cool."

"Well, if they hadn't ended up waking up the Wraith and all, yeah." John raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

Rod frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's a downer." It was such a Rod-like comment that John *had* to reach over and smack him upside the head. "Ow! Don't hit me!"

"You deserved it," John told him.

Rod rubbed the back of his head, giving an extremely exaggerated wince. "I bet the Colonel doesn't hit Rodney."

"You should tell Ronon that he doesn't have to be so touchy-feely, and let Teyla know that we won’t hate her if she doesn't spend every waking moment with us."

"Is that why she's been asking if I wanted to learn the Athosian bantos fighting?" Rod asked, surprised.

"Ye-ah. I love her, I do, but I don't need to know all her ancient fighting techniques. I've been bruised for weeks between her and Ronon," John groaned. “I’m made for sitting in my awesome lab and doing the occasional off world run that isn’t supposed to include actual running.”

Rod snorted. “You’re such a whiner.” He shook his head and began walking toward the door. “Come on then, let’s set the other two straight. We don’t want your delicate skin to get bruised again.”

John followed, considering it wasn’t exactly his room to stay in in the first place. Then he stopped, turned, and ran back to Rod’s bed and dropped down to his knees to reach under it.

“Hey! I’ve got personal stuff under there!” Rod protested when he saw what John was doing.

“Please, I’ve already seen all of your porn. In fact, I think most of it’s the magazines I gave you,” John shot back, then let out a triumphant ‘ha’ and pulled out the chess set. He got back to his feet and practically bounced back over to Rod. “We can play team chess.”

“They kick our asses every time.”

They left the room and walked down the hall, Rod slinging an arm around John’s shoulders as John clutched the chess set to his chest.

“I think this time we’ll win,” John stated, grinning. “We have my new superpower on our side.”

Rod shook his head. “Flirting is not a superpower. You can’t even control it.”

“I just have to practice at it.” John nodded, already setting up another plan. “We’ll rule the world soon enough, McKay.”

end

Fic: The Break Room Incident (PG)

2007-06-15T19:34:38Z

Title: The Break Room Incident
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG for a little swearing
Characters: Mensa!Sheppard, Rod McKay
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: Mensa-verse
Summary: Just an insane piece of the Mensa-verse.
Warnings: No, the summary should be warning enough.
Notes: I...don't know why I wrote this. I have other things I need to be writing, but this image would not leave my head. We need more Mensa!fic written so I don't have to resort to this to amuse myself. :)

The Break Room Incident

John pushed the E and then the 5 on the number pad of the vending machine, leaning his head against the glass as the metal curls turned round and round, gracelessly dropping his prize to the bottom. He retrieved the package of Twinkies and withdrew to a table in the far corner of the empty break room, sitting in one of the cold plastic chairs before tearing into the wrapping.

He was just finishing the first Twinkie when the door swung open. A man stormed in, a slightly crinkled dollar bill in his fist, and headed straight for the vending machine. John licked the excess cream from his fingers and watched with idle interest as the man scanned the rows of items.

“What the…who took the last package of Twinkies?”

The man scowled and turned to leave. Unfortunately, he turned in John’s direction and saw him sitting there with his *fairly-bought* Twinkies. The scowl darkened into a glare which was probably supposed to intimidate him. John raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“That—are you going to finish that?” he asked—no, more demanded, really. John glanced down at the Twinkie, still snug inside the plastic.

“I was thinking about it, yeah,” John drawled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. The position had him hovering just slightly over the snack cake protectively.

His answer made the man grimace. “All right, look, I’m very tired and very hungry,” the man explained. “I have been here for…I don’t even know how long, working on a very important project.”

“Me, too,” John agreed, causing the man to falter.

“What? What are you working on?” he asked, actually looking curious.

John shrugged. “I’m on the X-301 project.”

And like that the expression closed off as the man nodded. “All right, look. I need that Twinkie,” he stated and John snorted in response. The man folded his arms over his chest. “No, really, I have hypoglycemia and if I don’t eat very soon, I’ll pass out.”

John tilted his head toward the vending machine. “I think there are cinnamon buns in there.”

He got the glare again, so narrow this time that he could barely see the blue of his eyes. “I don’t want a cinnamon bun.”

John shrugged and carefully pulled the remaining Twinkie out of the plastic. “I’ll tell that to the medical team when they find your unconscious body.”

The man let his arms fall to his sides. “Oh, come on! Wont that put you over your calorie count or something? I don’t want it to go to waste when you throw it up later.”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, he met the man’s gaze evenly as he lifted the Twinkie to his mouth and licked a broad stripe down the middle of it.

“That’s disgusting,” the man complained, his face turning red. “Do you have any idea who I am? I’m on the most important project in this entire complex! I’m the most important person in this entire complex!”

Whoever he was. John didn’t admit he didn’t know, because he didn’t really even know the people he worked with on a daily basis. “It’s my Twinkie,” he replied simply. “I bought it.”

“Then I will buy it from you.”

"I don't think that'll work," John said with a shrug. "We've bonded, you see."

The man looked like he wanted to strangle John--a look he was both familiar with and unfazed by at this point in his life. An idea struck him and he again lifted the Twinkie to his lips. The man was watching him like a hawk. He opened his mouth.

The man's lip curled back in a sneer. "Don't. You. Dare."

John held his gaze, the Twinkie hovering just outside of his mouth. The man's fingers twitched and John smirked despite himself. The man lunged forward and John shoved the entire Twinkie in his mouth in one go, trying not to laugh or gag himself as the man shouted and grabbed his shoulders to stop himself in mid-tackle.

"Fine!" the man yelled, lifting one hand to point his finger in John's face and squeezing his shoulder hard with the other. "But this means war."

John sputtered a laugh, cream oozing out from between his lips. It made the man jump back from him.

"That is so disgusting!"

And then he was gone, and John had to rest his head on the table and concentrate on not choking himself on the damn Twinkie. What a complete and total asshole, but that was the most fun he'd had since coming to Area 51.

Fic: The Minutes Are Free After Seven (G)

2007-06-13T00:00:59Z

Title: The Minutes Are Free After Seven
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: G
Warnings: Not really, no.
Summary: AU, Earth-based. John and Rodney meet and start dating. Told through phone calls to their mutual friend, Teyla.
Notes: Written for the Dating Challenge on sga_flashfic, but I messed up on the posting so I'll post it here (sorry for that). Dialogue-only and rather short. I had more but I didn't really think anyone wanted to read twelve pages of dialogue, and the other version was becoming too long to be a quickie.

Wednesday===

"Guess who has a date Friday night?"

"Good evening, Rodney. Am I right in guessing that it's you?"

"Correct. I was getting worried, you know, because I hadn't dated anyone since I dated you and that was almost six months ago. I'd hate to think you ended up ruining me."

"That would be a tragedy. Tell me of this date; you are usually very critical of your women."

"And I dated you, so be flattered. And...well, the woman's kind of a...man.....Teyla? Teyla? Oh, come on, you are way too fair-minded to hate me because of this!"

"No, no, I simply hit my shin on the coffee table. Don't take this the wrong way, but you are not gay, Rodney."

"I could be! I can appreciate masculine beauty! We met at that diner I go to after work. He started talking to me--and I'll admit I had no idea he was hitting on me--and when I was getting ready to leave he asked if I wanted to go see a movie this Friday."

"And you agreed."

"Six months, Teyla! No one has expressed any interest in me at all until this guy!"

"That doesn't mean you must desperately take the first opportunity given to you."

"Oh, please, it's not like it'll be a hardship. He's really very attractive, and did I mention the fact that we were talking? He's smart and funny and, while he's certainly not my level on the intellectual scale, he at least rates a you or a Carson."

"I am touched. I must go now, but we will speak of this later."

"Speak of what? It's fine. Hey, are you coming over for supper tomorrow? Carson's got this...thing he wants to try out and I'd rather not suffer alone."

"You are not one to be talking about cooking skills, but yes, he has already asked me to come. I will call you after I'm done here."

"You can't ruin this for me, Teyla. I have a date!"

Thursday===

"Hey, Teyla, guess what?"

"Why not just save time by telling me? It could be anything with you."

"You're no fun. I met someone yesterday and have a date with them this weekend."

"A date? John, that is wonderful. This will be the first since the divorce was finalized, will it not?"

"Yeah. Kind of freaky, huh? It's a guy, isn't that weird? I haven't dated a guy since before I was married."

"You were only married for two years, John; that is not very long."

"It feels like it. Anyway, we met and talked and he seemed interested, so I asked him out. We're going to the movies on Friday. Do you think I should take him out for food or something?"

"Popcorn and Junior Mints aren't the best supper, no. Perhaps you should call him and ask him where he would like to go?"

"Um...yeah, I kind of forgot to get his number. He was in a hurry to leave when I asked him."

"Then choose a late showing and figure something out together before the movie starts."

"That'll work. Okay."

"You sound nervous."

"It's my first date in eight months. Ten if you count the Christmas party at the Community Center with my ex-wife."

"You will do fine, John."

Saturday===

"Oh my God, he kissed me!"

"How many times have I asked you to start with a greeting? And to not shout in my ear?"

"You know it's me, why should I have to greet you? And I'm shouting because he kissed me! I was kissed. By a man. On the lips!"

"I am sorry, were you not the one who was giving me an expounding lecture on human sexuality just a few days ago?"

"Very funny. I wasn't expecting him to kiss me!"

"That usually happens at the end of a date that's gone well, Rodney."

"It went very well, until the end. He insisted on walking me to my door. I thought he was going to jump me or something!"

"He sounds like a gentleman."

"Ha! He's a flirt! He kept making eyes at the waitress during supper. I called him on it and he said he knows her. I'll bet he knows her. Intimately."

"It sounds like they're just friends. You tend to take things out of hand when you're nervous and I'm sure you were nervous last night."

"What! I do not. I just prefer to be cautious and make sure I'm not getting into a relationship with the town bicycle."

"So you are not going to go on another date with him?"

"Actually, he wants to meet up with me on Tuesday. He wont tell me where we're going though. If I don't call you Wednesday night, send a search party, okay?"

"*Rodney.*"

Saturday (later)===

"Evening, Teyla."

"Good evening, John. How was your date last night?"

"It was good. He's a bit more...intense than I'd thought, but we had fun."

"Intense?"

"Yeah, he talks a lot. I can barely get a word in edgewise when he starts going. I'm not much of a talker, though, so it's okay."

"I'm glad."

"I've got another date with him in a few days, too. He's really...complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah, but it's a good complicated. He can be telling me this story about his coworkers and he'll be ranting and cursing through it, but when I take him home he gets all shy and stammers a lot. I thought he was going to faint when I kissed him good night."

"You're going to take this slow, then?"

"Sure, why not? It's not like my biological clock is ticking or anything. After all of the chaos with the lawyers it'll be nice to take it easy. Which is why I'm taking him to the fair; it'll be great."

"There are no fairs in the city, John."

"Which is why we're going *outside* the city. There's one a couple of hours away; one of the kids at the community center was telling me about it. It's there all this week."

"Would the weekend not be a better time for such a long trip?"

"What? Why?"

"Most people have jobs that require their presence during the week."

"It'll be fine. He'll love it, just wait."

Wednesday===

"Oh my God!"

"Rodney, I am going to stop answering your phone calls if you keep this up."

"You are not! He took me to the middle of *nowhere!* We didn't get back until nearly two in the morning because he wanted to stay for the fireworks!"

"Fireworks?"

"Yes, apparently it's absolutely *amazing* to watch them from the top of the ferris wheel. I was freezing! Which he used as an excuse to *cuddle,* I swear. I'm probably going to get a cold now. And he ate my cotton candy. *My* cotton candy. I bought it! He didn't even *ask* and--what? What are doing? Stevens, get away from that; that is not your project! Radek! Teyla, I have to go."

"Wait, where did he take you? Rodney? Rodney!"

Thursday===

"All right, apparently some people have really, really important jobs that require their presence in the middle of the week. It was still fun."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I won him a stuffed cat at the shooting game, too. Granted, it was a weird green color, but it was sort of cute."

"What time did you both return home?"

"I think it was almost one thirty, maybe two. I don't remember. He was falling asleep on the way home, though. Still wouldn't stop talking. I think he was threatening my life or something; it was sweet."

"Sweet."

"Well, his head was on my shoulder at the time. It was kind of hard to take him seriously."

"John, if I may be so forward? You've never told me this man's name. I am curious."

"Rodney. He's a doctor, but don't think he's a medical doctor. I made that mistake the first time he told me. I thought he was going to explode."

"He sounds absolutely wonderful."

Friday===

"I just realized that I have no idea what he does."

"Rodney, it is...one in the morning."

"If you don't want to be called, don't leave your phone on. I mean, he could be some spy intent on stealing my work. I'll bet Radek hired him, he's always sore when I wont let him look at my projects. Oh, what if he's one of those pretty, gold-digging layabouts that only want brilliant geniuses for their money? That wouldn't be so bad except that I'm not rich yet. Oh, God, what if he's just getting his claws in now? No one would suspect him of it."

"Rodney--"

"I don't know *anything!* If this were one of those things where we just didn't talk I could understand it, but it isn't! I tell him all about me!"

"Have you asked him about himself?"

"Well...no, but he's had plenty of opportunities."

"Ask him."

"If he wanted to tell me, he would have by now!"

"Just. Ask."

"Okay. Hey, Teyla, thanks."

"Good night, Rodney."

Friday (evening)===

"Good evening, John."

"Mrmph."

"You sound tired."

"I was sleeping."

"At eight-thirty?"

"I was up half the night. This guy is a nutjob, Teyla. He called me in the middle of the night. To talk."

"Oh...was something wrong?"

"No, no, everything was just fine. He just wanted to *talk.*"

"About anything in particular?"

"Me."

"You."

"Just me. What I did, where I went to school, what hobbies I was interested in--we had a forty-five minute argument over the validity of football as a real sport. Football! I was so tired he almost convinced me it wasn't."

"Well, if you did not wish to be called at such an hour, you should not have left your cell phone on."

"But it's my alarm. It has to be on. People don't usually call me that late unless they're dying or drunk and need a ride home."

"This just means he is interested in you, John. Would you prefer that he only like you for your looks?"

"Hey, hey, I am perfectly fine with bonding time, but not at one in the morning!"

"When is your next date with him? I trust that you haven't let such a little thing as this ruin your relationship?"

"Of course not, though if he thinks he's ever having sex with me anytime soon, he is going to be very disappointed."

"I'm sure he will be."

Wednesday===

"Teyla! Teyla, you are not going to believe this."

"My name is not a sufficient greeting, Rodney."

"Fine. Good evening, Teyla."

"Good evening, Rodney."

"Happy? Okay, so I got a call from him at lunch yesterday--"

"Him?"

"John, who else?"

"Ah, is that his name?"

"What? Yes, I could have sworn I told you."

"I do not believe so, no."

"Well, now you know. Anyway, he called, asking if I wanted to come by his apartment after I was done with work. I was going to stay late that night to work on some simulations, but I wasn't pressured for time or anything so I agreed. I get there and he's practically jumping out of his skin."

"What? Was he all right?"

"That's what I asked him. He said he was fine, but he's such a bad liar. We sat down and watched some television, all very casual. I asked him where the bathroom was and he nearly fell off the couch! He still wouldn't say what was wrong, so I just went to the bathroom. In his bathtub was this spider--"

"Oh, no."

"Don't get ahead of me, you'll ruin it. It was a daddy long legs, too. It was huge. I told him it was there and asked if he'd call me a murderer of small lives or something if I killed it and he said I could kill it, you know, 'if it was bothering me.' It *wasn't,* but I flushed it anyway. When I went back to the living room and sat down he was as relaxed as can be, all smiles and jokes, and he went to the bathroom next. I'm ashamed to admit that it took me nearly ten minutes to realize it was the spider that freaked him out."

"You did not tease him, did you?"

"What? Of course I did."

"Rodney."

"Not a lot! And he tried to play it off, saying he just 'didn't like bugs' which led to me explaining that a spider wasn't even a bug in the first place. That's when he started getting mad."

"Oh, Rodney."

"No, no, no, it's okay. We, ah, made up. There was a lot of, um, kissing and a small amount of groping. I actually felt very manly; you never needed me to do things like that."

"Well, that is good."

"Yeah, actually, it was."

end

Fic: Before I Sleep (Mensa-verse) (PG)

2007-05-27T02:41:49Z

Title: Before I Sleep (Mensa-verse)
Author: R. Tom Mato
Characters: Mensa!Weir, Mensa!Sheppard, Rod McKay
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: Mensa-verse
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death, but that's rather obvious.
Summary:
Notes: For the Stargate: Mensalantis challenge at mensa_au. I couldn’t think of a title and I wanted this posted before I went to bed, so here it is.

===

John sat in the back of Jumper Six, a tablet propped on his knees as he ran diagnostics. He had the rear door closed in case anyone came through the bay. It was unlikely, but all anyone had been talking about today was the person that had been found in one of the stasis chambers. Rumors were flying and the gossip mill was running steadily. The person claimed to be Elizabeth Weir, they were saying; her expedition had drowned when they first came to Atlantis and she had traveled back in *time* to save them.

Personally, he thought it was senile dementia. She'd been in stasis for over ten thousand years. Wake up from that and not be a little cracked. John snorted softly and tapped away at the tablet.

(Dr. Sheppard, report to the infirmary immediately, please.)

He tapped his headset, frowning. "Why?"

There was a guttural sound, an annoyed grunt from the Scot on the other end. (That was not a request, lad. Dr. Weir wants you to report here now.)

(Dr. Sheppard,) Weir's voice called over the channel. (Report to the infirmary immediately.)

John sighed and set his tablet aside, making sure it wasn't going to be running anything without him there. "I'm coming. I was running diagnostics in the Jumper Bay."

(This is more important at the moment.)

"You say that now," he replied, lowering the rear door and striding out of the Jumper. "But when this Jumper crashes the next time one of those inept Marines tries to fly it, I'll be saying 'I told you so.'"

===

The woman on the bed was old and crumpled, stringy white hair spread out around her head and over her bony shoulders. Her face was a map of wrinkles around thin lips and closed eyes. Her skin was pale and drawn tight, her knuckles like huge knobs and her fingers looked like skin stretched over bone. The white clothing she wore only enhanced the skeletal image she presented.

She could have been dead, if the sharp beeps of the machines she was hooked up to weren't telling him otherwise.

She looked like she'd been laid out for her funeral.

Her mourners were McKay and Weir, sitting on either side of the bed, both playing the part of the children left behind with their pensive expressions and dark circles under their eyes. McKay looked up and saw him, straightening in his chair.

"John," he greeted, waving him over. Weir looked up and gave him a tired smile. John walked over warily; he wasn't close enough to either of them to warrant this kind of familiarity. He and McKay hadn't gotten past the use of surnames, and he and Weir hadn't exchanged two words since they got to Atlantis outside of his briefings on the Jumpers.

Weir got up from her seat and gestured for him to sit. He did, stiffly, and had to fight down the surge of claustrophobia that came over him when she rested a hand on his shoulder. "She just fell asleep, so she'll wake up in a little while," she told him softly. "She wanted to speak with you."

"Are you going to get some rest?" McKay asked her, unknowingly cutting off John's protests.

"A couple of hours," Weir replied with a nod. She looked down at John. "Will you give me a call when you're done?"

John unfroze enough to give an awkward nod, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Weir gave his shoulder a light squeeze before her fingers trailed down and away. McKay grabbed her hand as she went by and clasped it tightly for a moment, the look of shared pain between them bringing back John's anxiety. He looked away, but that left him looking at the old woman and that was worse. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

The doors opened and closed, the almost noiseless glide a minor comfort against the relentless beeping. With Weir gone he found his voice again, but he still kept his eyes shut.

"Why am I here?" he demanded.

"Elizabeth wanted to see you," McKay answered simply.

John's hands clenched into fists in his lap and he opened his eyes to glare at McKay. "You don't honestly believe this fabrication."

McKay stared back, his mouth turned down into an angry frown. "I've sat with this woman for the last day and a half," he said, his words slow and his tone lower than John had ever heard from the man before. "I know who she is."

"Great," John spat. "Wonderful. Why does she want to see me? I don't even know her. I don't even talk to this Dr. Weir."

"She'll tell you when she wakes up again," McKay told him, his voice back to that infuriating, compassionate calm.

"If she ever wakes up again," he shot back.

A flash of something came and went from McKay's face. "She's stronger than she looks."

John shook his head and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. There were so many things he should be doing right now, so many things more important than waiting for a dying woman to wake up. That was the problem with the elderly, they expected you to drop everything to wait on them and wait for them to stutter their way through their words and actions. It didn't matter if there were diagnostics to be done or if there was a statewide science fair that only you had qualified for out of your entire school; your grandmother--whom your mother hadn’t talked to in ten years anyway--had had a stroke and everyone related to her three times removed just had to be there for her.

At least the infirmary didn't smell as bad as the hospital did. There was salt in the air, not the stifling sterilization cleaner the nurses used on everything. It was warmer than it had been there also, with the air conditioners going because it was too much work to turn it on and off depending on the weather. Winter had died reluctantly that year, unlike her.

"John." Someone was tapping his arm, and John jerked in his seat. His eyelids were heavy and his mouth was dry, and the beginnings of a backache were forming in his lower vertebrae. When he opened his eyes, McKay was standing next to him and watching him carefully. "You dozed off."

"What?" he rasped, pulling himself upright in his seat. "How long has it been?"

"An hour or so," another voice, sandpaper dry, answered. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

John turned away from McKay and met milky-white eyes with just a hint of color in their middles. The old woman was half smiling at him, as though he amused her somehow. The chair had no arms to grip, so he kept his hands on his knees, carefully not fisting the material of his pants.

"Yes, well, I was told it was important that you speak with me, so I suppose I can take some time away from my work," John explained woodenly, ignoring McKay's frown.

"Would you two like to be alone?" McKay asked, looking to the woman.

John's heart lurched in his chest, pounding wildly, and he looked up at McKay with wide eyes that clearly said 'don't you dare leave me alone with her.' "There's no need, is there? You already know what she wants to say to me, right?"

"You can stay, Rod," the woman agreed, thank goodness.

McKay stood there for a moment, then nodded and went back to his seat. "Are you all right?" he asked her. "Do you need anything? Water?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, lips stretched even thinner as she smiled. She turned her head to look back at John. "I wanted to thank you in person, Dr. Sheppard."

At least she hadn't called him John. "Thank me for what?"

"For saving this expedition."

His mind blanked and he stared at her, eyebrows raised. "I...what?"

She was quiet for a moment. "When the shield started to fail," she finally said. "Many of us ran to the ships--"

"Puddlejumpers," he corrected her automatically, then flinched back.

The woman just smiled at him. "The Puddlejumpers," she started again, "to escape the water. Not all of us made it there, but you and I did. We waited for the others but everyone was trapped.” Her voice gained pitch as she spoke, her rate increasing until she was shooting the words out one by one. “We waited until it was too dangerous to linger any further and you went to the front. The Puddlejumper did something when you sat down and suddenly we were in space.”

John leaned forward in his seat, surprised and disbelieving. "I flew?" he asked, heart skipping a beat.

She nodded. "That was when we were attacked. That was when--was when--" Her voice stuttered to a stop and her eyes rolled back into her head. McKay was on his feet and shouting for Beckett before John even realized what was happening. He was hauled out of his seat and away from the bed as Beckett and another doctor rushed in.

"Elizabeth!" McKay shouted into his headset as he dragged John to the other side of the infirmary. "Get down to the infirmary NOW!"

John's heart was thudding in his chest again as he watched Beckett trying to stabilize the woman. The machines were shrieking, Beckett and the other doctor yelling back and forth at each other to do this or do that. As they moved he could see glimpses of her face, expression slack even as her body jerked and twitched. "Oh, God, I killed her," he breathed, going cold.

"What?" McKay turned to him, frowning. "You didn--John!"

He bolted from the infirmary just as Weir sprinted in. McKay was yelling something to her and then there were footsteps following John's through the hallway. He had no idea where he was going; he'd started toward the Jumper Bay but for once the ships sent a sickening lurch through his stomach. His quarters was an obvious choice but he could lock the doors, so John turned left instead of right and went that way.

He had run track in high school, but apparently McKay had taken some sport as well because he was gaining ground. John only had the moment's realization that the other man was right behind him before there were arms around his chest and he was crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"You are completely and utterly cracked!" McKay yelled, shoving him down by his shoulders when he tried to get up.

"Me! You just tackled me!" John screamed back as he tried futilely to get away.

"Elizabeth has been dying since we revived her! Carson's had her on stimulants to keep her aware and she's already had one episode like the one that just happened," McKay explained, panting heavily.

"So she just happened to stroke out while talking to me? Bullshit, McKay!"

"I'm serious! She's ten thousand years old, John; you try it sometime!"

Their headsets crackled to life, interrupting their shouting match. (Dr. McKay, Dr. Sheppard.)

McKay shifted off of John, keeping one hand in between his shoulder blades to make sure he didn't run off again and tapping his headset with the other. "McKay and Sheppard here."

(Elizabeth's been stabilized,) Beckett told them, sounding relieved. (Are you two all right?)

"Yes, yes, we're fine," McKay replied. "We're on our way back."

"I'm not going back in there," John protested over Beckett's sign-off.

"Yes, you are." McKay said, standing, and John was dragged up with him. "Elizabeth needs us. Both of them."

"I don't even know them! You're her friend, not me," he tried to explain. "I'm just a scientist. I'm not even--"

"You died in that ship, John."

John's words stopped and piled up in his mouth, nearly choking him. "I--what?"

"The Puddlejumper ended up in space, above the planet, ten thousand years ago." McKay's hand, on his arm now, squeezed. "There were Wraith above the planet and they shot down the Jumper. Only Elizabeth survived."

"I died." John backed away, slumping against the wall. "I knew--I mean, everybody died--but that makes it..."

"Yeah," McKay said in a heavy sigh. "I drowned."

John looked at him, dazed. "In the city?"

"Control room. I was trying to get the doors unlocked and the bay hatch open so you could fly out." He nodded. "You shot a Dart."

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

McKay gently pulled him away from the wall and guided him back to the infirmary. Weir was sitting in one of the chairs next to the bed. The woman--the other Weir was asleep. The machines beeped steadily.

Weir looked up as they came over, her gaze settling on him. "Are you all right?"

John nodded. "I'm good."

McKay pulled up a chair next to Weir and sat down, so John took the chair on the other side of the bed. They sat in silence, the machines making the only sounds in the room. Weir scooted her chair forward and rested her fingers against the other Weir's cheek.

"Carson said she probably wont live through the night."

McKay leaned forward and carefully slid his hand under the other Weir's, cradling it. "I'll stay up with you tonight."

"Thank you."

"I'll stay, too," John stated before he could think it away.

Weir glanced over at him and gave a shaky smile. "Thank you."

He nodded, dropping his eyes to the bed. The other Weir's hand lay there, pale and dry and too still.

It took him half the night to reach for it, to slip his hand under hers, both their fingers limp. Two hours later she passed away.

===

John was sitting in the back of Jumper Six with the door up, tablet on his lap, when the door suddenly lowered and revealed McKay on the other side. He walked into the Jumper and held up the remote to one of the other ships by way of an explanation.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.

John frowned, pausing his work. "What?"

"Do you want to go somewhere. Away. The mainland," McKay clarified.

"Now?"

"Yes."

"What about Dr. Weir?" John asked haltingly.

McKay shook his head. "I asked; she wants to be alone right now."

John stared at him, noting that it didn't look like he'd slept much on their personal day yesterday. He knew the feeling. "Okay." He closed down the programs and set his tablet aside.

McKay nodded and closed the rear door. He strode to the front of the Jumper and sat down in the copilot's chair. "You fly."

John stood quickly. "What? But I don't..."

"Did you know that I am severely hydrophobic?"

The non sequitur made him pause. "No." He followed McKay and stood in between the two back chairs. "You're hydrophobic and you came to a city that's surrounded by water?" He narrowed his eyes.

"You're aviophobic and you work on planes, John," McKay replied, tipping his head back to look up at him.

John tensed, lips drawing back in a sneer. "I am not."

"Mm." McKay held up a hand. "One, you have not asked for any flight time, nor asked to be taught how to pilot a Jumper despite your absolute possessiveness of them. Two, if you're ever in a Jumper in flight, you sit in the back; if you're forced to sit up front, then you're always in one of the back chairs; if you're forced to sit in the copilot's seat, your eyes never leave your tablet."

"I run system checks and take readings!"

"Three," McKay continued without pausing. "When Elizabeth told you that you flew the Jumper, you nearly fell out of your seat in surprise. Your pallor was worse than usual and you started sweating. I don't even want to know what your heart rate was."

"That doesn't mean anything!" John objected. "And I know how to fly a Jumper!"

"In theory," McKay said with a nod. "First time for everything, right?"

"If we crash..."

"You can aim for the ocean, just to spite me," McKay offered.

John stared at the pilot's seat and cautiously sat. The controls lit up easily. He could do this, he told himself. He'd done it before and...well, he hadn't died of heart failure. There were no Wraith Darts here, either.

"Control, this is McKay and Sheppard," McKay announced into his headset. "We're going to take Jumper Six to the mainland. We'll be gone the afternoon and we'll remain in radio contact."

(This is Control; the hatch doors are open and you're ready to go.)

"Says him," John muttered, reaching up and gripping the controls tightly. "Why are we going to the mainland, anyway?"

McKay shrugged, staring straight ahead. "I feel like going for a swim."

Fic: Obvious Answers (PG)

2007-05-03T02:04:44Z

Title: Obvious Answers
Author: R. Tom Mato
Characters: Zelenka, Campbell, McKay, Sheppard
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: MENSA-verse
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: The Brotherhood, McKay and Mrs. Miller
Notes: Because I am so easy for a canon AU, I participated in the mensa_au challenge thinger and this was the result. It was written for ihavecake.

Obvious Answers

The first time Rod was approved for off world travel while on Atlantis was the first time Radek was in charge of the labs.

"Are you sure everything will be all right?" Rod asked worriedly even as he adjusted the straps on his vest. "I wouldn't be doing this, but they need someone who will be able to make sense of the energy readings they found and I have the most off world experience."

"All will be well," Radek assured him. It was obvious that while Rod's voice was unsure his eyes were pleading to be let through the Stargate. The man was insane in that respect; he had been all but clawing at the dialing device since Colonel Sumner had started sending out teams. "You go risk your life recklessly; I will keep the city in one piece."

Rod grinned and shrugged. "You'd like it if you tried it."

"This I highly doubt."

The other man looked about to say something else, but his radio clicked and he lifted his head a little. He turned on his mouthpiece and nodded. "Yes, I'm just making sure everything's running smoothly in the labs. I'm all ready to go; I'll be right there." He reached up and clicked it off. "That's it then," he murmured to himself, then raised his voice to be heard by the scientists in the main lab with them. "Everyone have fun while I'm gone!"

He gave a final goodbye to Radek before hurrying out of the lab. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, Radek slowly rose from his seat. All eyes turned to him and he hid a smile.

"All right," he exclaimed, barely refraining from clapping his hands together gleefully. "Status checks of all systems, now!" He added a few commands to hurry in Czech just because he knew it drove a few of the American scientists crazy to not be able to understand what was being said around them.

The room burst into productivity and he nodded approvingly. This was how a good science department ran.

===

It hadn't taken long for Radek to find his very own mortal enemy. They were both engineers and Radek was his boss so it was to be expected that his underlings would loathe his existence, but there were usually *reasons.* Dr. Sheppard just seemed to hate him with more than the standard level of distaste he showed to everyone else. He would disregard direct orders, saying his way worked better, and made it a point to not get his name right.

The man refused to work on anything but the Puddlejumpers (they had been Gateships for all of two days before Rod had renamed them, but he wouldn't say why) and he had a fit if any of the pilots took one of the ships up without him. There was always room for more data to be gathered, his excuse was, and during flight was the perfect time to gather it. He kept a cot in one corner of the 'Jumper Bay, but Radek had heard from a few others that he slept more often on the benches in the back of the Puddlejumpers themselves. Sheppard had to have a room *somewhere* because Radek had seen him in more than one set of clothing and he had the appearance of someone who showered at least semi-regularly.

"It is not healthy," Radek muttered one evening as he checked the maintenance logs on his laptop.

Rod glanced up from his own laptop curiously. "What isn't?"

"Dr. Sheppard's behavior."

"The 'Jumper engineer?"

Radek frowned. "He sleeps with them and is getting possessive of them. No one else must touch without his permission."

Rod nodded, sitting back in his seat. "He was the same way with the F-302s that he was working on, I heard. You have to admit that the ships are improving in leaps and bounds with him there; we haven't had any malfunctions with them in weeks."

"I am glad you approve of his dysfunction," he replied without any bite in his tone. "When you start sleeping on a cot in the 'Gateroom, I will keep Dr. Weir from sending you to Dr. Heightmeyer."

Rod laughed and the topic was dropped, both of them becoming once again absorbed in their work.

===

"You stupid, stupid man!" Radek yelled, clutching his left hand to his chest as he hurried out of the 'Jumper Bay. The smell of burnt flesh caught in the back of his throat and he fought not to gag.

Sheppard was a half-step behind him, screaming to Dr. Beckett over the radio. He clicked his headset off with a sharp motion. "I told you it wasn't ready!" he growled back, glaring through the thick lenses of his glasses.

"You had wires everywhere! Crystals and wires open and ready to shock anyone who happened by!"

"I was the only one who was working on it; I knew which ones were safe to touch with the power on!"

Radek made a sharp right to the transporter, Sheppard jumping in just before the doors closed. "I did not approve that experiment!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small space. The doors opened just outside of the infirmary and he shot out. "It was too dangerous!"

"I knew what I was doing!" Sheppard shot back.

Carson met them at the door and rushed Radek in, thankfully ordering Sheppard to stay back by the doors. Finally, Radek allowed himself to calm down as much as he could. Dr. Weir, Colonel Sumner, and Rod showed up not long after that and he could hear Sheppard trying to explain what happened. His voice got louder and carried over at the end ("Never mind! I have to go fix it!") before the opening and closing of the infirmary doors signaled his departure.

Once his hand was bandaged, Carson let the three come over. Radek had been pushed back onto one of the beds, half lying down, and let his head tip back against the huge pillow. Rod, frowning now instead of wearing his usual amicable expression, spoke first.

"Carson give you something for the pain?" he asked worriedly.

He had, actually. Radek was expecting it to kick in any moment now. "Yes, soon colors will be floating around my head and I will be reduced to nonsensical babble." His comment got a half-smile out of Rod and Dr. Weir.

"What was Dr. Sheppard working on in the 'Jumper Bay?" Dr. Weir asked. "He tried to explain but wouldn't tell us anything specific."

Radek sighed. "Dr. Sheppard was experimenting with the output of the Puddlejumper's power cell. He believed they had the potential to accommodate a hyperdrive."

"I thought we'd decided that it was too dangerous to try right now," Rod exclaimed. "It would have taken at least three scientists to monitor everything and we still don't have enough information on what the 'Jumpers are capable of to even think of messing with it."

"He apparently thought he could," Colonel Sumner added. He stepped back. "I'm going to go close off the 'Jumper Bay before someone walks through and touches something they shouldn't. We had two missions that were going to be using the ships today."

Dr. Weir nodded. "We'll postpone them until we can get the experiment dissolved safely. Thank you."

The man left, leaving Dr. Weir and Rod staring at each other.

"This will require a firm punishment," she told them both. "I'll trust you two to decide on what is appropriate. Let me know when you do." She turned to Radek. "Feel better."

Then it was just him and Rod, who sighed and pulled over one of the chairs and sat in it heavily. "Well, I think letting him near the 'Jumper Bay is out of the question," Rod muttered.

"Take him with you to dissolve the experiment," Radek advised. "His system is chaotic."

Rod nodded, and then shook his head. "I don't get it; why would he go ahead and do this after we already told him it was too dangerous? We didn't say no, we just said not right now."

That was Rod, right there, Radek thought to himself. Trusting of all and confused when that trust was broken.

"He is not fond of following orders," he explained, though they both knew that even before this incident. "And he believed he could do it."

"I believe he can, too," Rod said in a rush. "Just not right *now.*"

"Ban him from the 'Jumper Bay for the next three weeks," Radek stated. "Have him help Miller and Brighton with the Zero Point Module schematics, but never let them leave him alone there. He will get bored and start to experiment outside his boundaries."

"Again," Rod groused. "Do you think that's what happened? He got bored?"

He gave a soft huff of laughter, feeling the lightness as the medication finally kicked in. "I do not claim to know the workings of Dr. Sheppard's mind, but perhaps."

Rod stood, putting his chair back to where it had been. "All right, I'll go get this mess cleaned up. Just relax, you know Carson wont let you out of here until he's satisfied you're on the road to recovery."

Radek snorted, letting his eyes close because he might as well get some rest while he could. "Is only a small burn. Second degree at worst."

He listened to the footsteps as they grew fainter until the sound of the doors opening and closing cut them off.

===

Carson kept him under observation for *two days.* He was allowed his laptop halfway through the first; thankfully, it wasn't his dominant hand that was damaged. Rod kept him company at meal times and on the second day, just before he was let out, even brought Sheppard for an official apology. It had started out well enough, but thirty seconds in Radek was on his feet and trying to close both of his hands around the other man's throat. Rod managed to pry them apart long enough for Sheppard to stumble back, gasping. The moment Rod loosened his grip on Radek, he leapt forward again.

He would have made it, too, if he had not been tackled with incredible force by one of the nurses. They hit the side of the bed and fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, Radek too shocked to actually struggle so he could continue killing Sheppard. There was a lot of yelling around them, mostly Rod telling Sheppard to get out before Radek got his wits back and Carson yelling at the nurse who was still holding him down and--oh, he was yelling too.

"You really, really don't want to do that, Dr. Zelenka!" the man insisted, his hands pushing on Radek's shoulders.

"I really, really do," Radek told him. He slumped back onto the floor; now his back hurt as well. "But I will not."

Rod leaned over the bed that was next to his own, worried frown in place. "I sent him back to his quarters," he said. "Did you really have to try to strangle him?"

Carson appeared as well, grabbing the nurse under the arms and lifting him up. "We do not tackle our patients, Campbell!" he yelled, hauling the man a few feet away so that he could get to Radek and help him up--only much more carefully. "Does anything feel bruised, Radek? That was an awful fall."

Radek batted Carson's reaching hands away and brushed his indignity off. "I am fine," he insisted. There was a wet feeling under his bandages and with a sigh he lifted his hand. "But I appear to be bleeding again."

That was how he earned a second day. Rod had come to play a game of chess with him in the morning, since his laptop had been taken away so as not to break the healing skin again (he had protested that he could type just as well with one hand, to no avail). It wasn't long until his friend was called away, however--a scientist's work was never done. Radek was just preparing to sleep the sleep of the terminally bored when the nurse from yesterday came over to his bed wearing a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about yesterday," the man apologized without preamble.

Radek lifted his good hand and waved it in a dismissive gesture. "There is nothing to apologize for. I should be thanking you; no matter how much satisfaction strangling Dr. Sheppard would have given me, it was not my finest idea."

This brought a small laugh from the man. "You've got a point." He held out his hand. "Dr. Charles Campbell."

Not a nurse. Interesting. He looked a bit young to be a doctor. "Dr. Radek Zelenka." He shook the offered hand firmly.

Dr. Campbell took the seat that Rod had left by his bed and looked at the chess set. "Would you like to play a game?"

Radek carefully hid his surprise. "You are not on duty?"

Dr. Campbell shook his head. "No, not today. I figured you could use the company, since Dr. Beckett's got you under lock and key here." He smiled, his expression a little uncertain but still confident.

Radek smiled back and gestured to the bored. "I certainly could."

"Great!" The smile turned more confident. "I'm not all that good, though, so go easy on me."

Such an admission was an understatement, but Radek was bored enough that he began offering pointers and tips to keep the game going longer. He still had half a day to go.

===

His hand was healing quickly now that he wasn't reopening the wounds. Thankfully, Radek managed to escape Carson's clutches that third morning after swearing on his soul to follow the instructions given to him. The labs were devoid of Sheppard's presence and the previous day's reports told him that his disgruntled minion was indeed working on the ZPM schematics. There was little progress, understandably, but he hoped that would change. He hated it when projects became stagnant.

Rod celebrated his return by going off-world and leaving him to take his frustrations out on their scientists. After a morning of reminding people that work was still supposed to happen even if he was not there, Radek felt more at ease after his three-day stall. He left for lunch with something almost like a bounce in his step (though it certainly, undeniably wasn't).

The line was short, another bonus for his day, and as Radek took his place at the end he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned and saw Dr. Campbell standing behind him, grinning.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Zelenka," he greeted, letting his hand slide off of Radek's shoulder.

Radek nodded. "Dr. Campbell. How are you?"

The line shuffled forward and they moved with it, picking up their trays.

"I'm doing well," Campbell replied. "Things are peaceful lately; none of the Marine teams have set anything off in the city yet this week."

Radek gave a wry smile. "Yes, I too am enjoying the quiet in the labs. Maybe it will last?"

The other man chuckled, reaching across Radek to grab a plate with a ham sandwich on it. "I doubt it."

"Ah well," he said with an overdone sigh, grabbing his own plate. "We can hope."

They got the rest of their food and Campbell followed a half-step behind Radek to take one of the empty tables.

"So, when does your shift end?" Campbell asked, glancing up quickly before focusing on his meal.

Radek raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "Perhaps around supper time. There is nothing pressing in the labs," he cringed, "so as long as no one tries to make anything explode."

Campbell chuckled. "That happens a lot," he remarked.

"Indeed it does. Why do you ask?"

Now Campbell shrugged. "I thought perhaps we could play another game of chess. You're a really good teacher. Chess really seems to be the preferred, ah, sport of the expedition at this point. There are at least four boards floating around besides yours. If you don't know how to play, there really isn't a whole lot to do around here."

Radek listened carefully and nodded. It was a good point, though; the chess boards were always in rotation--the ones whose owners rented them out, in any case. He put down the too-casual tone of Campbell's request to simple shyness as they hadn't known each other very long.

"I will bring my board here at six o'clock," he agreed. "We will eat and play."

===

The lessons became a part of Radek's routine and he was surprised that he was actually enjoying them. He didn't have the patience to point out the ridiculous errors his scientists made, but he could coach Charles--he would not use that inane nickname the rest of the expedition had started calling him--through strategies and even calmly correct his mistakes. Of course, Charles was much better company that the idiots he worked with.

It was one such lesson--Rod had joined them and was sitting at the end of the table, watching quietly--that his number one idiot interrupted, storming over and already waving his hands.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sheppard yelled, never one for subtleties.

Radek sighed, giving Charles an apologetic glance before concentrating on the board. "I haven't done anything."

"Not you," Sheppard growled. "Him! He's signed me up for off world training!"

That made Radek look up and give Rod an incredulous stare. "You cannot be serious."

Rod sat back with a tight frown. "I thought it would keep him from being bored."

"Who told you I was bored?" Sheppard demanded. "I am not bored! I started a MENSA chapter here in Atlantis and there are already eight members; I'm too busy planning our first meeting to be bored!"

"Will any of the Marines even take him?" Radek asked.

"Lieutenant Ford said he would." Rod nodded. "He's good at reassuring the scientists that are skittish about off world travel."

Sheppard stomped his foot. "I am not *skittish!*"

"Dr. Sheppard, you wanted to gather data on the 'Jumpers while in orbital flight, didn't you?" Rod asked, tilting his head back so he could give the other man a level stare. "Your first mission would be on a Puddlejumper, taking scans of a planet's surface for any potential minerals we could use. Ford promised me that you'd get to perform all the tests you want on the 'Jumper as time allowed afterward."

Radek observed Sheppard and took the moment to appreciate the stunned silence his friend had sent the man into. If only it were permanent.

"Really? All the tests I want?" Sheppard murmured, eyes distant.

"Well, you can't stay out there forever, but a reasonable amount, yes," Rod agreed.

"That's...that's...I have to make a list. There's equipment I'll need and so many tests...I'll have to list them by importance to make sure I get the essential ones done." Sheppard was talking to himself by now and already starting to walk away, no doubt to the 'Jumper Bay.

Charles frowned. "He didn't even thank you."

"Thanks are not Sheppard's way," Radek explained. "We should just all be grateful that this will distract him for the next week and a half."

Rod just grinned and got up from his seat, giving Radek a pat on the shoulder. "Have fun, I'm turning in."

"Already? It's barely nine o'clock."

"Mission tomorrow, bright and early. Night, Chuck!" Rod waved and headed toward the doors.

Radek shook his head. "Yes, you go out. Have fun. Leave me with thirty dysfunctional children all day!"

Rod's laughter drifted back and was cut off as the doors closed behind him. Radek turned to Charles and rolled his eyes.

Charles grinned back. "It really is fun, going off world," he said. "There's so much to see out there."

Radek shook his head. "There is plenty here to keep my attention." He glanced down at the board and frowned. "Is it my move or yours?"

"Yours," Charles replied. "Is it going to be busy for you tomorrow?"

"Most likely. I have three projects to check the progress of tomorrow morning. I have to have a talk with Dr. Lorne about stealing Dr. Parrish's flowers to make dye for his paints. The entire botany department is ready to form a lynch mob," he murmured, sliding a pawn forward and sitting back. "And a dozen or more such complaints."

Charles gave him a wide-eyed stare, still not quite used to the goings-on of the civilians outside of the medical department. "So no lunch?"

Radek sighed. "Unfortunately, no. I will have no time to leave the lab."

"I could bring something by," he suggested, sitting up a little in his seat. He moved one of his pieces and Radek held back his cringe at the other man's current position. "That way you wouldn't have to leave."

"I do not allow anyone to eat in my labs," Radek said, shaking his head. "They are constantly bringing in snacks and I am constantly running them out."

Charles sucked his lower lip in between his bottom teeth. "Yes, but you could argue that they don't need to eat in the labs because they have time to go to the mess. I mean, if it weren't for you needing to watch over them to make sure they don't...blow up the city, you'd be able to go to the mess to eat lunch."

It could work, Radek thought, and he was going to be very hungry and irritable by the end of the day if he didn't get to eat until supper. "Nothing messy and we must keep it at one of the far tables. I will not have any projects damaged by bread crumbs."

"Of course not," Charles agreed, smiling again.

===

Charles made good on his offer and at noon the next day Radek waved him and the two plates he held over to the far part of the room. All delicate equipment had been moved away from the area, leaving an empty table and two chairs. A few scientists had looked up at the smell of food but Radek cut off any protests they could make. They would all get their lunch breaks, it was only decent of them to allow Radek a quick meal while he was trying to help them get their oh-so-important projects up and running.

"All right," Radek shouted, clapping his hands. "Stevens, restructure your project; I have no wish for the mainland to end up a tar pit, which is what will happen the way you are going. Dumais, it looks good but you are going to need to take it slower. As for the rest of you: I am ashamed of choosing you for this expedition. Come back when you have practical, thought out proposals. Now, I am going to have my lunch; no one is to bother me for ten minutes unless the city is going to explode in less than fifteen!"

He nodded and turned around, walking to the isolated table and throwing himself into the empty chair. Charles pushed one of the plates over to him.

"And here I thought the scientists were lying when they said you were a tyrant," he joked.

Radek smirked. "I run a very productive lab, though."

"That you do," Charles said with a nod. "Hey, Rod's team checked in about fifteen minutes ago. They made contact with the locals, apparently there's a good chance the ZPM is still on the planet."

"Ah, that would be very lucky. The last two planets did not prove successful." Radek tore into his sandwich, keeping half an eye on the lab.

"Yeah, we could contact Earth again, let them know what's going on. They're not going to like the threat of the Wraith."

"No, they will not, but the Wraith are sleeping," Radek pointed out, starting on his food.

"There are a lot of families to be contacted as well. I heard some people talking about whether or not they would go back." Charles frowned.

Radek snorted. "A stupid question with an obvious answer."

"A lot of them miss their families. Did, um, did you leave anyone behind?" Charles shoved the corner of his first sandwich half into his mouth.

"No, if there was anyone to be left behind, I would not have come," he replied, smiling slightly. "Did you?"

Charles swallowed hastily. "No, no one. Well, a couple of brothers, a sister, and a grandmother. They were happy for me."

Radek nodded, finishing off his own lunch quickly. "They will be glad to know you are safe." He wiped his hands on his pants and stood. "Thank you for lunch, but now I must go and continue the damage control."

"No problem. Do you mind if I...?" He held up his last sandwich half and raised his eyebrows.

"Of course not, just keep all crumbs away from my delicate projects," Radek said with a stern tone, but then smiled before heading to the busy center of the lab.

===

Radek glared at the small image coming through from the MALP on the other side of the wormhole. "What do you mean, you are staying there?"

Rod sighed. "Radek, it'll be easier if we don't have to keep 'Gating back and forth. This is an extensive search and it'll go quicker if we're focused."

"You have projects running!"

"You've got the list I sent back with who can take over which project. We'll check back every 24 hours, so if there's anything you need to consult me on you can do it then," Rod explained, then frowned. "Isn't John ready yet?"

Radek just narrowed his eyes further. It didn't matter that Rod couldn't see, it was therapeutic. "I believe they sent a Marine search team for him. He ran the moment I radioed him."

"You're kidding." Rod blinked. "He loves puzzles and this one has the best prize of all. He doesn't want Brendan or Allison to win, does he?"

There was a commotion down on the 'Gateroom floor and Radek leaned back from the screen to see Sheppard storming into the middle of the room. Two Marines were behind him and when Sheppard tried to make a run for it they managed to grab his arms.

"He is here," Radek said. "And looks about to pass out. This will be the highlight of my day."

On the screen, Rod frowned and reached down to speak into his radio. "John? What are you waiting for?"

Sheppard swatted the Marines away from him and turned on his own radio. "I'm not cleared for off world travel."

"Yes, you are. You were cleared two days ago."

"You said I'd get the mission with the Puddlejumper!" Sheppard yelled, sounding like an indignant child.

"And you will," Rod soothed, ever the spoiling parent. "I just need your help on this first. You've been through the 'Gate before; you aren't nervous, are you?"

Radek had been one of the first civilians through the Stargate when they had first come to Atlantis and had watched everyone arrive behind him. Sheppard's eyes had been squeezed shut, depending on the flow of the crowd to direct him through.

"No," Sheppard growled quietly, probably trying to retain some privacy in their conversation. His reluctance was drawing quite a crowd even though Elizabeth was trying to get them to move onto their business. "There were Marines on the other side, then. I knew where I was going."

Rod laughed. "There are Marines over here, too."

"What about the angry natives? There are always angry natives."

"They're not angry, John."

"Yet," Sheppard shot back snippily.

"I'll be right here on the other side waiting for you. Come on, this'll be fun. Think of everything we can do with a ZPM, John. I want your help on this one."

Want, not need. It wasn't the ego stroking that getting Sheppard to do anything he didn't want required, but it worked. Sheppard had something of a restrained hissy fit, arms half-flailing and stomping his foot, before he strode to the 'Gate.

He was moving quickly and when he disappeared Radek turned to the screen. There he was, tripping a little but Rod jumped up to steady him and perhaps standing too close.

"Oh my God," Sheppard's breathless exclamation carried over the MALP. "Where are we? How far is everyone from here?"

"You're not going to get lost; you're staying with me," Rod explained. "Teams of two. Good, right?"

Radek leaned forward. "If that is all, Rod?"

Rod jumped back, sending Sheppard stumbling again and this time he steadied him with just one hand on his arm. "Yes, yes, that should be it. Just follow the list and contact me only if there's an emergency. Lieutenant Ford's going to take over and finish things with Colonel Sumner; I'll talk to you tomorrow, Radek."

"Good luck," Radek called before stepping back, picking up the list that lay innocently on the table next to him. "Though I may need it more."

He left the 'Gateroom but turned the opposite way of the labs. It would be best to go and straighten things out there now, but Radek feared he would end up making a desperate trip through the Stargate to drag Rod back. He did not like being in charge. Specifically, he did not like being the person officially in charge. There were meetings to snore through and strings to pull and people to please. Rod was better at all of that. He liked working in the background; everyone knew he ran the labs but it was Rod that was official head of the science department.

A week. A *week* of meetings and strings and *people.* Not people he could yell at, even.

Radek strode into the infirmary, spotting Charles at his workstation and going over. "Have you heard the good news?" he asked, letting out a huff as he leaned against the desk.

Charles looked up as if surprised to see him there. "ZPM?"

"A trail of breadcrumbs to one, really, but yes." He nodded. "Have you heard the bad news?"

"There's bad news?" Charles asked, frowning.

"Rod has made me acting Chief Science Officer until his return, which could be as long as a *week.*" Radek folded his arms over his chest, grumbling.

"Wow," Charles deadpanned. "That's bad."

"I am going to be too busy going to meetings and fixing squabbles to do any actual science! Thank goodness he took Sheppard with him or I'd have dragged him back here myself. I am stuck with desk job and he is off playing space hero!" He muttered a few impolite but very satisfying phrases in Czech.

"That didn't sound nice," Charles commented, but was giving him a half-smile.

Radek found himself smiling back. "It wasn't. I will teach you them someday."

"Sounds great. Should I start bring lunch to your lab every day, now?"

He was smirking, but the offer sounded sincere. Radek tilted his chin up a little. "If you feel you can brave the labs, it would be appreciated. No doubt the others are thinking up their excuses to call in sick for the next week."

Charles laughed. "Can they do that?"

Radek waved a finger. "If they do, I will send them to Carson. They will wish they stayed in the labs." He let his hand drop. "When is your shift over? I am putting off going to the labs, probably until tomorrow. We could play a game of chess."

Before he could get an answer, his earpiece clicked and he could hear Dumais's voice coming through with a stream of babble.

"I am going to bed!" Radek snapped at her, ignoring the questions. They were valid ones, but nothing so important it couldn't wait. "I will assign everything tomorrow. Do not disturb me to ask stupid questions." He cut the connection and turned to Charles.

"My shift's been over, I was just looking over some stuff," the other man stated. "If you'd rather turn in, I don't mind."

Radek shook his head. "I only said that so she would leave me alone. We will have to play in my quarters, however. No one will leave us alone otherwise."

"Okay. Now?" Charles asked, already pushing his seat back.

"Gladly," Radek replied.

===

The week passed much more quickly than Radek had anticipated. He survived his meetings and succeeded in only having two shouting matches with Colonel Sumner. One was about allowing scientists to accompany Marine teams on city exploration missions, since they would know what they were finding more than the Marines would, and the other involved an accident off world. Something about the anthropologist on the mission accidentally offending the entire chain of villages by reading the script on one of their monuments out loud. Apparently the holy words were for the priests’ eyes only.

He had won both, but had had to give a speech to the science department about being discreet while dealing with other cultures. Just because the ones that were dead and dust hadn't had any objections back on Earth didn't mean the ones living felt the same way.

He managed a fifteen minute lunch without any crises every day and without Rod there for him to yell at, Charles became his target. The man took the position with ease and surprised Radek by actually paying attention and understanding enough to ask relevant questions that helped Radek reach his answers. They would eat supper in the mess hall before retreating from the helpless mass of questioning minions for their chess game, though a couple of times they simply sat and talked or watched some of the movies other expedition members had brought with them.

They were having one such night, lounging on Radek's bed with the laptop in front of them, when a voice came through Radek's earpiece. It was Elizabeth so he slipped it on and opened the connection.

"Zelenka here."

(Radek!) came a voice that certainly wasn't Elizabeth's. (I brought you a present!)

"Rod?" Radek leaned forward, pushing the laptop away. "You found it? You actually found it?"

There was a laugh. (You doubted me?)

Laughter bubbled up inside him and Radek let it out, jumping up from the bed and yanking his shoes on. "I never doubted you for a second, my friend! I will be right there! Do not run the tests without me!"

He heard the click that meant Rod had closed the channel and turned to Charles. The other man had moved as well so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring up at him.

"The ZPM?" Charles asked, his own voice soft and disbelieving. "They found the ZPM?"

"Yes!" Radek laughed again. He grabbed Charles, pulling him to his feet and into a tight hug. "We have the ZPM!

The infectious laughter caught Charles and he whooped loudly in Radek's ear as he returned the hug.

"I must go run the tests," Radek stated after the stepped apart. "I will let you know when we are finished, but it may be a while."

"Even if it's partially charged--"

"We can still contact Earth, yes," he finished, nodding. They went to the door and as it opened the sound of murmuring voices could be heard throughout the hallway.

"I don't think anyone's going to be getting much sleep tonight." Charles observed.

Radek chuckled. "If anyone could sleep through this excitement, I would be surprised." He gave Charles a final pat on the shoulder before running to the transporter.

===

"It's fully charged!" Radek exclaimed hours later as the first signs of dawn began on the horizon. They were in the mess hall, rushing through their breakfasts.

Charles nodded, a wide smile on his face. "I heard. This is amazing; there's so much happening. There are things in the medical labs that we didn't even know turned on coming to life!"

"The same is happening in our labs. Three of the scientists passed out from excessive joy, I believe is the term Carson is using."

"Yeah, he's really annoyed about that," Charles said with a laugh. "He's going to just start handing out smelling salts pretty soon."

They finished at the same time and jumped up, walking quickly to put their bowls and trays away. There were other people in just as much of a hurry as they were; so much was happening and they were all rushing to keep up.

"Dr. Weir has scheduled to make contact with Earth this evening after, she says, we all get at least six hours of sleep," Charles told him, and Radek looked at him, surprised.

"Sleep? With all that's happening?"

Charles smirked. "Dr. Beckett has suggested sedation."

"He must catch us first." Radek snorted.

They left the mess hall, keeping to the right as other expedition members, Marines and scientists alike, darted past.

"There have also been a few resignations turned in, when the SGC clears us for sending people through," Charles added, his excitement waning a bit. "One of ours is going; Beckett couldn't convince him to stay."

Radek shook his head. "It is their choice. Like you said, some have families to think about."

"Yeah," he replied, shrugging a little. They parted ways with a quick good-bye and Charles disappeared down the hall while Radek stepped into the transporter.

He didn't allow the thought that Charles would be among those leaving to gain any form in his head.

===

In the end, Radek did end up with slight sedation. Carson had gotten Rod first, since the fool had thought he could talk the man out of it. Radek hadn't made it out of the room either, though he had tried. The other scientists and quite a few Marines were under the first round of sleepers as well, though the Marines hadn't put up a fight with Sumner giving the order. He heard later that Sheppard had evaded the medical team for ten minutes before Carson had threatened his Puddlejumpers. The Scot was a cruel, cruel man.

Radek woke in the infirmary sometime later. Charles was sitting by his bed and gave a small wave, smiling. He sat up quickly.

"They're going to contact Earth as soon as Dr. McKay wakes up," he said, pointing to Radek's other side where Rod still slept on his own bed. "You didn't miss anything."

Radek reached out and Charles slipped his glasses into his hand. He put them on and blinked as his vision cleared. "Good, good. I would be very angry if that had happened." He looked around the infirmary. "The city is still floating, I see."

"Everything's fine so far. It's mostly just defense systems and other day-to-day systems that we didn't realize we had. Your guys are working on cataloging them and seeing which ones are important enough to keep on."

"Some are not?" Radek asked.

Charles grinned. "Some are weird. You'll see." He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "Did you know that Albertson is pregnant?"

Radek frowned. "Who?"

"Linguist. One of yours?"

"I claim no ownerships of the linguists," he stated. "That is interesting."

"She and one of the Marines. They're going back to Earth as soon as possible." Charles nodded.

"From what I heard about the celebration parties, quite a few babies will be born in nine months," Radek muttered.

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Radek scooted back so he was leaning against the headboard. "What about you?"

Charles let out a snort. "I'm not pregnant."

"Funny." Radek rolled his eyes. "I meant are you going to go back to Earth?"

There was a silence, but once Radek looked over he held Charles's gaze. After a moment, the other man smiled.

"That's a stupid question with an obvious answer, Radek," he replied. "I expected better of you."

A knot of tension unwound in Radek's shoulders. "I am not one to assume, I like definite answers."

Charles gave a slight nod of his head. "I'd be leaving someone behind, I can't go." Then he gave a sheepish grin. "If you'd like to start dating, anyway. Definitely."

"Is that not what we've been doing?" Radek asked, proud that his voice didn't betray the fact that he had had absolutely no idea this was coming.

It got a laugh out of Charles, though. "That was more pre-dating. To see if we could get along and if we were interested."

"And we are...interested." Radek gave a slow nod. Pre-dating?

"We are very interested," Charles agreed. "I wasn't sure for a while, though. All we ever did was play chess."

"You do not like chess?" Radek asked, eyebrows going up in question.

"Hate it, really," he admitted, ducking his head and glancing up at Radek. "I suck at it."

"Yes, you do."

"Thanks," Charles grumbled, but he was still smiling. "It was fun with you, but..."

"I promise to never make you play another game of chess again," Radek stated, smiling in return. He looked around the infirmary. "Is Carson here?"

Charles looked surprised at the change in topic, but shook his head. "No, he's getting the next round of people that are supposed to get some sleep. I doubt too many will argue this time."

Radek pushed back the covers and swung his legs out of the bed. There was only a slight moment of dizziness when he stood, nothing to be concerned about. Carson was careful about not overmedicating anyone.

"You can't go until he clears you," Charles told him, standing as well.

"That is not what I was going to do." Radek stepped forward and pressed his lips to Charles's, bringing his hands up to rest on the other man's shoulders. One of them made a pleased sound, perhaps both of them, and Charles's arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

“CAMPBELL!” The yell made them both jump apart and turn to see Carson standing in the doorway with a few of the other doctors. “I did not leave you here to molest my patients!”

They both gaped, trying to form a response. To their left, Rod sat up a little in his own bed, still blinking sleepily.

“I think,” Rod stated, rubbing his eyes, “that it was a consensual molestation, Carson.”

Carson’s glare thankfully shifted from them to Rod. “I don’t give a damn whether it was consensual or not; there is none of that in my infirmary.” He strode over and stood in front of Radek, tilting his chin back and flicking on a penlight he drew from his pocket. “Any dizziness?”

“No, Carson, I am fine.” Radek replied, frowning at the bright light.

“Mm, I may have to question your judgment skills,” he murmured, tucking the penlight away.

Radek blinked to clear the spots and narrowed his eyes. “Carson,” he warned.

“Aye, best wishes to both of you. Now get out of my infirmary,” Carson replied, waving a hand. Radek wasted no time. “You too, Campbell. I meant what I said about leaving such things for outside of the infirmary.”

Charles nodded, following Radek. “Got it, Dr. Beckett. We won’t let you catch us again.”

“See that you…that is not what I meant and you know it, Campbell!” Carson yelled after them.

end

Ficlet: Mistakes (PG)

2007-03-09T09:15:09Z

Title: Mistakes
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Kid!fic.
Notes: Just something I wondered about with all the kid!fics I've seen. Usually the patterns in who gets kidified(?) and who's left watching over them.

Mistakes

Radek stormed out of the infirmary as soon as the technicians in the control room radioed him that Ronon and the others had returned. He saw the group as they were walking down the hallway to the transporter he just exited. They saw him, the children's (he did not see them as the Colonel Sheppard and Teyla Emmagen they had once been, he couldn't) eyes widening, but their presence didn't slow his stride. He stopped directly in front of Ronon and barely held his anger in check.

"Major," he snapped, not breaking his stare with Dex. "Would you please take the children to the infirmary. Meredith will be happy to see them."

Both adults stood straighter, but Major Lorne tactfully kept quiet and took John and Teyla's hands, leading them away. Radek waited until the children's inquieries faded away before exploding.

"You selfish, foolish man! No, not man. Caveman! Caveman with more muscles than brains and more hair than common sense! Do you have even the slightest idea what you did today?"

"What happened to McKay?" Ronon demanded impatiently, stepping the side to move past him.

Radek slid smoothly in front of him, gritting his teeth. "You!" He poked a finger hard in Ronon's chest. "You and your gallivanting off to who knows where!"

"Sheppard and Teyla wanted to visit Jinto," he explained with a dangerous look, glancing down at the finger and then back up to fix the look on him. Radek couldn't really bring himself to care at this point. "We were only gone a few hours."

"Gone is the key word! Gone without warning or explanation!" Radek seethed. "Why did you not take Meredith with you?"

"You had him. He doesn't like going to the mainland."

"*Rodney.* Rodney does not like going to the mainland. *Meredith* does not like finding out that the only people he trusts have abandoned him!"

Ronon's expression only darkened more at the accusation. "I didn't--"

"You did! You left without telling him where you were going! Once he realized that I could not reach you on the radio, he started crying! Once he heard that you were not on Atlantis at all, he had a panic attack and flashbacks! Carson had to sedate him!" He watched Ronon's face twist into its own version of startlement with satisfaction. "You," he continued, slightly calmer. "Are are responsible for him, for John, for Teyla. All three. You are the only one they trust. They are *damaged,* Ronon. You are the adopted father of three very special, very troubled children."

One thing that Radek had always found admirable of Ronon's personality was that he didn't say unnecessary words. He didn't argue and Radek could see that it was sinking in. He had had conversations like this with Elizabeth and many of the scientists since the offworld incident and Ronon was the only one so far who had understood.

"I don't know how to be a father," Ronon admitted gruffly, shoulders tense.

"Nor do I," Radek acknowledged. "But I know how to be the next best thing. I was often left in charge of my younger siblings, so I will help you. It will have to do. Now get to the infirmary and apologize and promise to never do that to him again; I will invent new and creative ways to make your life miserable if you do."

The promise was taken without doubt or mocking and Ronon nodded, moving past Radek and disappearing down the hall. The scientist counted to ten to calm down before following at a slower pace. By the time he got to the infirmary, Major Lorne was standing outside and he could hear Ronon talking in a low voice. Radek took a position next to the Major and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

"All right, doc?"

Radek tilted his head just enough to meet Lorne's concerned gaze. "I will not be all right until this is fixed, Major."

The other man nodded. "I know the feeling. He's doing his best, you know."

"He will do better now."

Ficlet: Bedtime (PG)

2007-03-09T09:12:00Z

Title: Bedtime
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crying children (but they stop, finally). Kid!fic.
Notes: Just something I wondered about with all the kid!fics I've seen. Usually the patterns in who gets kidified(?) and who's left watching over them.

Bedtime

It had been a week. They were no closer to fixing his team and any plans to go back to the planet were strictly theoretical. He'd been in charge of three extremely well-behaved four-year-olds who had listened to everything he said without much more than a curious 'why.' Apparently one week was the marker for adjusting to a new situation and losing that obedient fear because they were anything but well-behaved right now.

"I don't want to! You can't make me! You're not my daddy!"

John, Colonel Sheppard, his *leader,* was having a hissy fit on the floor of his quarters because he didn't want to go to bed. Ronon resisted the urge to cringe at the high-pitched wails: that was weakness and children latched onto weakness and tore it apart. On the bed already, Teyla was staring and Rodney had his hands over his ears and was cringing enough for the both of them, his face twisted into dramatic agony.

"It's time to sleep," Ronon said as firmly as he could without going into what Zelenka had called his 'I-eat-small-children' voice.

Although maybe that would work better.

"No!" John shrieked, hands and feet pounding an irregular rhythm on the floor. "I don't want to! I'm not sleepy!"

Teyla sat up straighter and Ronon glanced over at her. She had that look that he was starting to realize was her diplomatic fairness expression, only thirty-some years younger.

"If John is not going to bed, then I am not going to bed." She lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. It was as close to a fit as she got.

"You're. Being. Too. Noisy!" Rodney shouted, glaring down at John.

John paused in his kicking for a half-second, glaring back, then started to kick and scream *louder.* Rodney started throwing pillows at him. Teyla started shouting over John to keep arguing with Ronon. It was enough to finally make him lose his patience and he walked forward, catching the last pillow Rodney threw before it hit the ground. He held onto it tightly in one hand and grabbed John's wrist more carefully in the other. He dragged the boneless boy to his feet and slid his arm around his waist before he could collapse to the floor again.

John didn't stop his hissy fit and Ronon ended up having to shift the boy onto his hip to keep the flailing limbs from hitting anywhere delicate. He walked over to the bed and dumped his former team leader on it without grace.

"Quiet!" he bellowed, glaring at all three of them and feeling a rush of pride when all noise and motion stopped. "It's late. I'm tired. It's time for *bed.* I don't care if none of you fall asleep, but you're all going to lie in that bed and you're going to *stay* there until morning. Understood?"

Rodney's lower lip started to tremble and John's eyes were saucer-wide, while Teyla stared at him with an expression like something betrayed. Before Ronon could back up and fix his mistake, John burst into tears. Loud, wailing sobs that quickly had his face turning red. Rodney stared at the other boy as silent tears started to fall down his own cheeks. Teyla stood up on the bed, fists clenched and held angrily at her sides.

"You are a very bad man!" she shouted.

Ronon sighed and stepped forward, slipping his hands around her waist. He ignored her protests and sat on the bed, pulling her into his lap. She settled once he did so he tugged at John, who all but scrambled to his side. He had to lean to reach Rodney, but his tugs at the hem of the boy's nightshirt didn't get him to come over.

"Meredith," he murmured as softly as he could. Red-rimmed blue eyes lifted to look up at him warily. "I'm sorry. Come here."

He could see Rodney weighing his options, deciding if he should trust him, and was pleased when the boy finally crawled over. Rodney was plastered to his side and the other two were in his lap and it felt crowded, almost smothering, but Ronon didn't move. He whispered apologies and kept his excuses to himself, because he *wasn't* good at this and why was *he* put in charge of three very fragile people? He promised that tomorrow they would get Major Lorne to fly them to the mainland and they could spend the whole day with Jinto. He told them about the harvest festival that the Athosians had started having once they'd had stuff to harvest and that it was coming up soon, they should all go. He held them until they stopped crying and fell asleep.

EDIT: Holy crap, there's fanart. By jayel_fox here. Go. Look. Because omg babies!

Fic: Weird As It Isn't (PG)

2007-02-15T00:22:31Z

Title: Weird As It Isn't
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Series: Not So Imaginary
Warnings: um..slash?
Notes: The end. Except for the epilogue. Which I haven't even started. I was hoping this part would work out and I think it did. I hope y'all like it.

===

It was a week after the last Daedalus visit, on what the inhabitants of Atlantis had decided was Valentine's Day (though they were probably off by a couple days, give or take). Couples were exchanging presents ordered from Earth and a few departments were having get-togethers because it was of like mind that any opportunity to celebrate pretty much anything was taken happily. John had his own tradition (three years going!) with his team. It consisted mainly of the chocolate they had picked out of catalogs and ordered and them lounging around in Rodney's room trying it all. The excuse was that they were showing Ronon and Teyla new things, but seriously, *chocolate.*

Ronon had asked for a chocolate orange once and Rodney had all but physically smacked him with the catalog. John had ordered one secretly and when it came in had told Ronon to eat it in his quarters and to brush his teeth before he saw Rodney next because, scarily enough, he would *smell* it and they'd both be in trouble.

It was the height of his Valentine's Day and he was happy for it. In fact, he'd just been on his way to find Rodney to make sure he hadn't been stealing from their team stash when said scientist found him and thrust a startlingly pink, heart-shaped box in his hands without so much as a hello.

"You'll note that I took out the ones you don't like," Rodney stated proudly, gesturing to the box. "I knew you wouldn't mind because you give them to me anyway. I replaced them with the little round ones I usually trade you."

John stared at the box of chocolates as Rodney spoke, his mind taking a moment to realize that his best friend had just given him candy. Valentine's candy. In a *heart-shaped box.* He hoped his face wasn't as warm as it felt. They'd never given each other anything on Valentine's Day before. It was a team thing, getting all different kinds trading the chocolates back and forth. That was completely different from actually *giving.* It was pink!

"I just thought it was a good idea," Rodney continued, shrugging but not losing his smile. "And, to me at least, you've been giving me chocolate for the last few years and until now I've been unable to reciprocate. To you it's been decades and that's even worse. It's a good thing there's no interest on this sort of thing."

Now John was sure he was blushing. The reason *why* he had given Rodney chocolate surfaced fresh in his mind. He had to swallow past the lump in his throat before he could reply. "Thanks." The word was strained in the effort it took to keep his voice from wavering. He felt six and emotional and needy again.

Rodney's smile slipped a little and he stared at him uncertainly. "You *do* still like those ones, don't you? I mean, you had no traumatic incidents that send you into catatonia at the mention of chocolate in the last year?"

"What? No!"

"So you like them?"

John held the box of chocolates a little closer in case Rodney decided to take them back. "Yes."

"A little reassurance would be nice. Would it be so hard to say 'thank you, Rodney'?"

The other man's smile returned as something even smugger, if that was at all possible. It made John want to say something to send Rodney into a rant, anything to get that knowing-but-not look off of his face. No words came but an idea did, and later, John still wouldn't know what had made him think it was a good one. Perhaps part of him believed he could laugh it off afterwards.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Rodney's too firmly, too ungracefully to be anything to take seriously. He lingered a moment, selfishly, and pulled back. He did *not* lick his lips. "Thank you, Rodney," he parroted, his flippant tone ruined by the high pitch his voice took.

Rodney was staring at him and hey, John did manage to get the smugness off his face. "That was..."

"A thank you," John insisted.

"Thank you?"

"For the chocolates."

"Chocolates." Rodney gave a dazed little nod and hadn't looked away. It was making him nervous.

"I'll see you after dinner, right? Everything ready?"

The change in topic gave Rodney something else to grasp and John could see him returning to normal. "Of course it is. Ronon's been bugging me all day, asking if they all came in."

"Great!" John grinned and started down the hallway to the transporter. He felt like a run. "I'll see you then."

"All right," Rodney replied, voice echoing after him.

He walked quickly all the way to the transporter, checking that the hallway outside his room was empty before doing a half-walk half-jog and thinking the door open early so he wouldn't have to even slow down. He wasn't freaking out; Rodney wouldn't take this any further than the teasing he'd meant it to be. The box he set on his desk, lifting the lid off to see that it was indeed filled with the ones he liked so much. It was almost comical looking, with some of the square choclates sitting unevenly in the round holes that had contained the ones he really would have just given to Rodney. Sitting on the edge of his bed, John shook his head and quickly exchanged his boots for his sneakers.

John had never doubted that he had loved Rodney, no matter how many people dismissed a young child's emotions as silly or somehow inferior to their own. That hadn't changed, and he loved the slightly more bitter, socially awkward Rodney he'd followed to Atlantis as well. What surprised him was that about a year in, after still losing Ford no matter how *hard* he'd tried to change it, he found himself becoming *attracted* to his friend. He had always wanted Rodney to kiss him when he was younger, but that was because that was how he knew people who loved each other acted then. As he grew older his knowledge had grown and he'd learned that love had categories. He hadn't really thought of it much because it hadn't lessened how he'd felt back then.

Suddenly, though, kissing wasn't where it ended. He wanted Rodney over him and in him and the combined fact that he'd never been attracted to men before in the first place and that this was his *Rodney,* for god's sake, shook something inside him violently. He'd tried to distance himself and things had just gone downhill from there. They had found and lost Ford again, the Arcturus project had him screaming into his pillow at the betrayal he felt and his own uselessness at being unable to prevent it (Rodney had never even told him), he'd been turned into a *bug,* Ford had *captured* them, and then he'd gotten himself stuck in a time-dilation field for six months.

Six months was a long time to think when you had nothing to do but wait. He knew they'd come for him (though he didn't know when) and John had pretty much given up on changing history because somehow it always ended up how it was in the stories anyway. All he could think about was Rodney. Eventually he made peace with his feelings and accepted them, but told himself he'd never act on them. Easy enough when Rodney wasn't even there.

By the time his team had come for him John had worked things out, but during the next few weeks he realized just how badly he'd damaged his friendship with Rodney. It had taken the months up to their second anniversary in Atlantis to get it even close to where they had been. Their habit for barely escaping those imminent-death situations had a hand in it, he was sure, because John could never entirely get rid of those 'what if's that hovered in the back of his mind.

He wasn't pining; he'd done that. Just having Rodney around was enough for him. They were best friends, though even that didn't feel enough to describe them. This was the happiest he'd ever be and he was so, so grateful. He stood, pulling off his uniform jacket and draping it over the chair at his desk, then opened the door and stepped out of his room.

Rodney grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back in without pausing in his stride. The door shut in a decisive manner and John saw the privacy lock go on.

"Rodney," he started, but was cut off by a sharp motion from the other man.

"Hush, I'm still thinking," Rodney told him, eyes narrowed as they stared at John. "I didn't expect to get here so quickly."

John nodded, eyeing his friend warily. He knew he shouldn't have stopped to change his shoes.

A very long, awkward moment later, Rodney nodded, taking a deep breath. "All right. I knew, from the first day we met, that we would either end up loving each other or trying to kill each other. Now we do have our off days and no matter what trouble we tend to get into off world I don't think the near-death experiences are intentional. I never could place my finger on it before, but there was something between us.

"My little adventure into your childhood answered a lot of that. You already knew me, so of course you'd get along with me. Still, there was something else I couldn't figure out but I've recently, as in just now, come up with a solution...weird as it is. So just close your eyes."

John's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Come on!" Rodney huffed. "I'm not going to hit you or anything. This will just be a lot easier if you're not staring at me like that."

John wanted to say that he wasn't staring 'like that,' whatever 'like that' was. The pleading look Rodney gave him had him closing his eyes, half waiting for a punch and half waiting for...something else.

He nearly jumped when he felt hands cupping his head and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep them from flying open. Rodney's thumbs rubbed at his temples until he relaxed, then slowly, slowly pulled him forward without any resistance and kissed him.

Part of John had been expecting this, hoping for it. One thought had dominance over all the thoughts whirling in his head and that was that this was *Rodney.* Rodney, his best friend, was *kissing* him and one of his hands was moving down John's side and curling over his hip and sending shivers up his spine. John's own hands hung restlessly at his sides, fingers twitching, and he brought them up to lie flat on Rodney's stomach. He felt the muscles contract and clutched at the material.

Rodney broke the kiss and John could feel his breath. "Too weird?"

He shook his head, leaning forward and bumping their lips together again. It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did; this was Rodney. It wasn't weird at all.

end

Fic: To Rodney, Love John (PG)

2007-02-14T17:09:41Z

Title: To Rodney, Love John
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ha!
Series: NSI series, people.
Notes: Thank you to lavvyan for looking this over and thank you to openice for writing her kid!John stories that ate my soul, and for letting me use certain bits.

===

Way back in that first year they'd arrived on Atlantis, he and his team had had a discussion about first loves. It was a couple hours' hike to the village Teyla knew of and it was nice enough to walk, so they had, in spite of Rodney's protests. It was really just something to pass the time, so Ford talked about the girl that lived across the street from him in fifth grade, Teyla mentioned the young man that courted her when they were in their teens, and Rodney waxed poetic for a moment about some girl he was lab partners with in junior high. When John's turn came, he shrugged.

"I was five," he'd begun, glad for the sunglasses that had shielded his eyes because he couldn't stop the way his gaze had kept sliding over to Rodney, who had been walking beside him. "And it was a man, actually." To the surprised looks he'd gotten he gave another shrug and a half smile. "I was five."

"Was he your teacher?" Rodney asked. "Everyone loves their first teacher."

"Not exactly. He did teach me a lot, though." John's smile widened into a grin. "He's the reason I wanted to become a pilot."

"You've wanted to be a pilot since you were *five?*" The look Rodney gave him suggested that the other man had himself probably gone through every childhood dream profession under the sun, twice, before he'd decided on something.

"Well, eight, really. I spent of a lot of time with him after school and he'd tell me stories about a pilot that would save the galaxy with his friends in really cool spaceships." And he stopped himself there, because his throat was itching with the need to say more, to say *everything* and he'd already made a promise to himself to wait.

A few feet behind them, Teyla's clear voice added, "I have many fond memories of the evenings as a child where we would gather together and share stories. They were always a comfort when the days were bleak."

John looked at her over his shoulder and they shared a smile. Next to her, Ford's own face brightened with a grin.

"Major, what would you say were better? His spaceships or ours?"

"The Jumpers, no contest," John replied, but held up a finger at Ford's proud laugh. "Though there was a ship that could travel between galaxies."

"We could use one of those." Ford agreed, and both their gazes went to McKay.

It took him a moment to realize he was being stared at, but when he did he rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure the Ancients left all their lovely spaceships just lying around Atlantis. When we find one you'll be the first to know."

John laughed, knowing it wouldn't be long before they'd have the ship and he really *would* be the first to know. "Cool."

===

It was a few days later that John slid into the seat next to Rodney, angling toward the other man and slouching down. "So, Rodney," he said slowly, twirling his spaghetti around his fork. The perfect image of casualness. "What's this about you having a kid?"

The gurgling sound as Rodney tried to keep from spitting out his coffee would have been funny at any other time. All right, it was still a little funny this time. He coughed, held up a finger for John to wait, coughed again, then looked up and blinked his watery eyes. "*What?* Who's saying that?"

"Carson." He shrugged. "Zelenka. *Elizabeth.*"

Rodney gaped at him, then sputtered. "That's...you...I would expect it of Carson and Radek; those two are worse than gossiping housewives, but *Elizabeth?* Really?"

"Well, she asked if I knew anything about it." John clarified.

"She just wants more excuses to make me take my vacation days." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "As if Jeannie's not bad enough. She wants me to come down early so I can see Madison's class play this Christmas, can you believe it?"

John raised an eyebrow. "You came to mine."

That stopped Rodney for a moment. "Okay, yes--"

"And the Thanksgiving one."

"And the one with the food pyramid where you nearly got into a fight with the orange, *yes,*" Rodney exclaimed, leaning back. "That was different. You had lines.
I spent hours helping you with those lines."

"You should go," John said with a calm shrug. "It'll make her happy."

"She's met me *twice,*" he replied, trying for the other man to see reason. John just stared back. "Fine. You've ruined me, you know," Rodney pointed out with a scowl. "I used to be able to come up with to avoid things like this and now I'm all...Uncle *Meredith.*"

He grinned. "You're looking forward to it. Now stop avoiding the question."

"Question?" Rodney asked distractedly.

John narrowed his eyes. "Gossip? You? Kid?"

"Oh, that question." He shifted uncomfortably. "It's not what you think."

"Is that so?"

Rodney seemed to think for a moment, and then pulled a wallet out of his pocket. "Here." He held it out to John, who eyed him warily before he took it.

"You carry a wallet?" he asked, eyebrows going up.

Rodney shrugged. "Jeannie gave it to me. She said that I wouldn't have access to my laptop all the time--ridiculous, I know." He rolled his eyes. "And this way even away from Atlantis 'they'll still be with me.' She was never this sentimental before."

John opened the wallet and saw the family portrait of Jeannie, Caleb, and Madison in the front pocket of the mini-album. He glanced up at Rodney and turned to the next one, eyes going wide at the familiar face smiling smugly up at him. It was his third grade picture. His mother had dressed him in a crisp white shirt and black pants; he remembered her spending fifteen minutes slicking down his hair in the bathroom before sending him out the door.

Rodney had followed him to school that day and had immediately dragged him to the bathroom to give his own improvements to John's appearance. His shirt had been untucked and the carefully slicked hair had become hopelessly mussed.

("Rakish," Rodney explained, the sour expression on his face relaxing into something more pleased.)

"I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough," Rodney grumbled now. "So of course those two jumped to the most ridiculous conclusion. You don't even look anything like me!"

John found himself grinning widely. It was the same grin he got every time Rodney did something that acknowledged those four years. "You kept it."

The other man blinked, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink. "It hasn't been as long for me as it has for you. I haven't had the time to lose it yet."

He shook his head. "It's in your *wallet.*"

"Easy access to blackmail material." Rodney shot back.

John waved the wallet. "Wal-let," he emphasized, leaning back when the other man tried to grab it.

"John," Rodney said, his voice dropping warningly.

"Please, that hasn't worked on me since I was six." He snorted, turning to the other side and looking at the picture again. There was something white sticking out from behind it. A piece of paper. "What's this?" John started to tug at it. It was thick, like it had been folded over a lot before being shoved in.

"Hey!" Rodney lunged in his seat at him and John twisted to the side, holding the wallet out as far as possible. Rodney's hand was clutching his shoulder almost painfully hard and trying to pull him close enough for his other hand to reach it. "Were you this nosy before?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

"Yes," he answered simply, plucking at the paper. Once he got it out he shoved the wallet back at Rodney and hunched over, the other man's hands only momentarily distracted by the wallet before they were reaching over his shoulders again.

The paper was pressed flat and John was quick but careful about unfolding it, seeing a faded red through the thin leaf. The color started to take on a shape as the paper got bigger in his hands and just before he opened the last fold he knew what it was. A construction paper heart with two words scrawled on it in a child's hand taped with care to the piece of one of his many notebooks. That four-letter word he'd managed to give truthfully to only three people and hadn't said to one of those three in a good thirty years.

"Oh." It came out in a forced rush of breath, as though it had been punched out of him. Rodney went still behind him. One of his friend's hands came into view and gently took the paper from his lax fingers.

"Happy now?" Rodney grumbled.

John sat up and turned. Rodney had leaned back in his seat and was refolding the paper, focusing on the creases. "Actually....yeah."

The other man glanced up and John made sure to smile, hoping he didn't look as off-balance as he felt. It worked, and Rodney rolled his eyes and gave a half-smile back. Seeing that was all it took for John to make his decision.

He lightly smacked Rodney's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, I've got something to show you." He jumped up and hurriedly went to dump his tray, grinning when he heard Rodney scramble to follow. He waited for him at the doors and started down the hall, neither of them saying a word all the way to John's room.

"Have a seat." He nodded toward the bed and waited until Rodney was settled. "You're going to love this."

John got down on his hands and knees, just barely dodging when the other man's knee gave a sudden jerk towards his head. "Watch it," he chided, pushing it back toward its owner. He ducked down and grabbed the shoebox, dragging it out. Looking up, he saw Rodney's wide-eyed expression turn into one of curiosity.

"I finally get to see what's in John Sheppard's mysterious box, do I?"

John got to his feet, spun, and plopped down next to Rodney in one quick move. He set the shoebox across both their laps and leaned back, hands braced on the mattress behind him. "Open it."

He didn't even hesitate and the lid came off smoothly despite not having been opened in twenty-odd years. John watched eagerly as Rodney's expression changed to one of stunned disbelief.

"Everything?" Rodney asked, reaching into the box slowly as if it would all just disappear. He picked up a thick stack of notebooks, the cumulation of countless evenings spent sitting side by side with bowls of John's mother's butterscotch pudding as he unraveled his world to John's understanding.

"Everything I had the day that you left," John agreed.

"God, John." His voice was thick, but he was smiling. He shifted the notebooks to his left hand and pulled out a messy pile of coloring book pages and freehand drawings. He thumbed through them and stopped on one that depicted a rather wobbly-looking Puddlejumper with a messy-haired stick figure inside. "Didn't I throw this one away?"

"Twice." John nodded. He shrugged at the look Rodney gave him. "It's my *favorite.*"

"If you were better at visualizing, I wouldn't have had to draw it in the first place." he grumbled.

"That wouldn't be fun."

Rodney shoved the heavy stack of notebooks and drawings at John, who brought his hands up quickly to keep the pile from falling apart. They knocked the air out of his lungs but he gave a wheezy laugh. Rodney's hands were back in the box, a smile just barely tilting his lips as he stopped and looked at each toy and each handwritten birthday card that had passed between them.

The last thing he pulled from the box was a small, faded-brown book with a blank cover. He stared at it, brow creased as he tried to place it.

"That's my journal," John told him quietly. "Mom got it for me after you left."

Rodney had just lifted the cover to open it, but at John's words snapped it shut. "Oh, I--"

"No, no," he objected. "I kept it in there so I could let you read it some day."

"Pages and pages of you cursing my existence?" Rodney asked with a nervous laugh.

"That only lasts the first ten pages or so," John replied, a grim smile on his lips.

A shaky breath came out of the man beside him. "Oh, God."

John leaned to the side, pressing their shoulders together. "Hey, you don't have to. You just weren't there for me to talk to anymore, and that's when I realized that I never talked to anyone else. I used this to talk to you even though you weren't there."

"You're killing me here," Rodney complained, but he didn't put the journal down. "I'll read it; I want to. Thank you for all of this." He shifted the box over onto John's lap and stood, journal clutched tightly in his hand. With his free hand he pointed toward the door, eyes darting up to meet John's quickly before shying away. "I'm just going to--"

"Now?" John stared up at him. "You don't have to right now."

"I want to," he insisted. "Was there--is there anything else you wanted to show me?"

"No." John shook his head and tilted the box forward to show Rodney. "Box is empty."

"All right then. See you tomorrow?" He was already taking a couple steps back toward the door.

"Yeah, bright and early for breakfast."

"Great. See you then." And then Rodney was out the door, leaving John with papers and notebooks and toys scattered on his bed.

===

Rodney didn't show up at breakfast and if John hadn't told Teyla and Ronon what had happened, he'd be tracking down the other man. He should've known Rodney would take the words on those pages to heart; he was always so serious about things like that. His team mates were no help and seemed to be actively keeping him from finding his friend. Ronon took him running, staying far away from the labs, and immediately passed him off to Teyla for training after they were done. Lorne had come to find him after that, but he didn't think that was a part of the distracting. He'd had lunch with Teyla and Ronon and had seen Zelenka taking two trays out of the mess but hadn't been able to catch his attention.

"He will come to you when he is ready." Was all Teyla had said to comfort him.

It wasn't until late that John managed to get away from them. He stopped by Rodney's lab, then the other labs, then Rodney's room when Zelenka told him that the other man hadn't been around for more than a half hour to make sure they weren't going to melt the city's insides or anything so sinister. So he got to Rodney's room without getting sidetracked and got the chime to ring.

The door slid open and he stood face to face with Rodney, who looked honestly surprised to see him. John was just about to make an argument so he wouldn't get sent away when he was pulled inside, the door closing quietly behind him.

"I was going to come looking for you," Rodney explained. "But this is better. I don't have to think up any excuses to drag you away from anyone."

"I was trying to find *you,*" John said with a frown. "Did you get Teyla and Ronon to keep me busy? I had no free time today. None!"

"Did they? That was very nice of them; remind me to thank them. Later. Right now, I need to talk to you. Or rather..." he trailed off, stepping forward and pulling John into a slightly stiff hug. John's arms were pinned to his sides, unintentionally, he was sure, so he just stood there and waited. After a moment, Rodney started speaking again. "I left you. I left you and I am so, so sorry."

John tensed at the misery in those words and the arms around him tightened a fraction in response. He dropped his head onto Rodney's shoulder since he couldn't hug him back.

"You know I didn't want to leave you behind, right?" Rodney asked. "And I think that I've proven over the last few years, and after I came back as well, that I'm not going to leave you behind again. I've invested far too much into you to lose you now."

A sharp bark of a laugh escaped John at the last bit and he turned his face into Rodney's neck, shoulders shaking from the rest he held in.

"Seriously, seven years. You're my longest lasting anything." He pulled back to look at John, hands moving around to rest on his arms.

"Cool," John snickered.

"Mm, yes, I should have known that would feed your ego," Rodney tsked, then eyed him. "You don't still think I'm a jerk face or any of that, do you?"

Laughing again, John shook his head. "No, Rodney."

"Good, because I'm not," he exclaimed, standing a little straighter. "I mean it when I say I won’t leave you again."

"I know," John replied, surprised and pleased to find that he really did. He hadn't let himself think of it before now. "I wouldn't let you anyway. You are stuck with me."

Rodney smiled, his hands giving John's arms a light squeeze before letting them fall to his sides. "I'm holding you to that."

end

FICLET: Guardian (PG)

2007-02-14T16:33:33Z

Title: Guardian
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crying children (but they stop, finally). Kid!fic.
Notes: Just something I wondered about with all the kid!fics I've seen. Usually the patterns in who gets kidified(?) and who's left watching over them.

===

Colonel Sheppard's team had missed their check-in.

Granted, it wasn't as uncommon an occurrence as Elizabeth would have liked, but three years hadn't stopped her gut from twisting into a pretzel every time they were overdue. She tried to reach them by radio--they weren't supposed to have gone far from the 'Gate. It was a populated planet, as John had informed her from their last check-in, and uncommonly advanced. They were going to check it out but keep alert; they had been burned too many times in the past by people that put on friendly faces.

Major Lorne and the rescue team were heading through the 'Gate. They were instructed to get Sheppard's team back by any means, but not to use those means unless absolutely necessary. She prayed it was just a simple misunderstanding, that they had had too much of some drink that hadn't tasted like alcohol at all, honest, and had fallen asleep drunk.

Almost seven hours later, Lorne's team were running back through, weapons still aimed behind them at the foe they left behind on the planet. The last rounds fired disappeared into the wormhole before it disengaged, the echoing sound of gunfire dying down to be replaced by high-pitched wailing and sobbing. She scanned the group and easily picked out Ronon among the Marines. He was yelling over the wailing and the Marines backed off, eyes darting from Ronon up to her.

Elizabeth hurried down the steps toward him, unable to believe what she was seeing. Small hands were not clinging to Ronon's shirt. Three sobbing, red faces were not pressed into his shoulders and chest, wailing for mothers and fathers that weren't here.

Ronon turned to her and she stopped, disturbed by the look in his eyes. It was wild, panicked, she would say, but she didn't know Ronon to panic easily. At all.

"Ronon," she ventured carefully, looking down at the children before meeting his gaze.

"Just give me a second." His voice was rough and low, almost drowned out by the screaming that hadn't let up.

She gave him a minute, because in that time the screaming had quieted down to high, short whines and hiccups and gurgling coughs. Ronon's breathing evened but he didn't relax, nor did he loosen his grip on the children. The rest of the 'gateroom was silent, watching and waiting for Elizabeth to ask the question they already knew the answer to.

"They did this to them," Ronon explained slowly, as if it was all just processing in his own mind. "McKay and Sheppard had the Ancestors' gene; Teyla could sense the Wraith. They wanted it for themselves."

All she could do was nod. "Go to the infirmary. I'll be there in a moment." As Ronon walked by, one of the heads lifted and a pair of blue eyes locked with hers for the briefest of moments before again hiding in the safety of Ronon's shirt. It felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her as it clicked that that was *Rodney.* Lorne stepped forward, thankfully forcing her to look away, and she gestured for him to follow her to her office.

Fic: Untitled (PG)

2007-02-09T03:03:19Z

Title: Untitled (or the time John wanted to make a decision but Rodney beat him to it weeks ago)
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: One day I'll actually have something to warn you about, and no one will know because I don't write things to be warned about so no one looks here.
Spoilers: NSI series, yes. Here you go.
Notes: I've wanted to do Ronon and Teyla finding out for a while now, because they're team, damn it, and John would want them to know. This is honestly how I expected it to happen, too. Surprised the heck out of me that it worked. All rambling contained within aside, anyway.
Notes2: I had this saved under the name 'confess' but really, that made it sound too serious. Which it's not, I don't think. Suggestions wouldn't be a bad thing, because having something untitled twitches me.
Notes3(last one, I promise): Is anyone a decent beta? Or know one? The next story I've got, it's still in-progress right now but I hope to have it done over the weekend, I've been having trouble keeping my tenses in line. I wrote it all in separate pieces and put them together and I'm worried about the flow. I just need someone with fresh eyes to give it a sort-of once-over.

===

"Ronon and Teyla."

Rodney didn't glance up from his laptop. He'd told John early on that if he was going to bother him during lab time and they weren't all going to die horribly in the next hour or less then he shouldn't expect to be listened to. It hadn't stopped him and Rodney was running out of proofs and problems to distract John for a while.

"I think we should tell them."

He hmmed, typing away. He longed for a pack of crayons and a coloring book, or even a model plane. It was so much easier to keep John occupied back when he hadn't known he was being distracted from bothering Rodney.

"Don't you think so?"

He made what must have been a hum of approval, because he felt a hand patting his shoulder.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, but I'm going to say you agreed with me anyway."

Great. Perfect. Whatever. Busy here.

"See you later, buddy."

Yes, yes. Good-bye.

===

Later, standing in one of the rec rooms and waving a yellow sticky-note at Ronon and Teyla, Rodney didn't remember having a conversation with John at all. His other two team mates simply watched, waiting for him to take a breath so they could get a word in.

"Why not just tell him that we already know?" Teyla asked quickly, while she had the chance.

"Because you're both apparently not supposed to know!" Rodney shot back.

Ronon snorted. "You told us anyway."

"I didn't know it was a secret!"

His voice cracked from the pitch on the last words. Teyla stood gracefully and calmly sat Rodney in the seat she just left.

"We will just tell him. You did not tell us for any selfish reason, he will understand."

"Nonono," he objected. "He wants to tell you. Knowing him he's probably got some speech in his head all ready and he's going to be working himself up over how to tell you. It's apparently a very big deal to him and I'm not bursting his bubble because you two can't sit quietly. You both excel at the whole stoic facial expression thing, put it to good use!"

"You want us to lie to Sheppard?" Ronon asked, eyebrows raised but with a small smirk on his face that made Rodney want to...well, if it was anyone else he'd have wanted to smack them.

"It's called omission. All you have to do it sit there and let him bare his soul and hug him after and it'll be fine."

Teyla stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "If he asks us directly in any way, I will let him know. I still do not believe he will be angry with you for telling us."

She and Ronon shared a look, something passing between them, and Ronon nodded. "I'll let him talk, but I'm not lying."

Rodney leaned back, letting his head rest on the top of the couch. "That's fine, that's...good. I can't believe I screwed this up. We never talked about it and as far as I know no one else knows. I just...who else was I supposed to talk to? Heightmeyer's great and all, but..."

"We are your team," Teyla said with a smile.

"Now you're starting to sound like Sheppard," Rodney groaned. He held up the sticky-note and read the barely-legible scrawl. "We've still got two hours."

"It will be all right, Rodney." She patted his shoulder before heading out of the room, the door sliding quietly shut behind her.

"You know he's going to be angry." Rodney glanced over at Ronon, who shrugged.

"Probably a little," he agreed as he stood. "It was his childhood."

"It was *my* mishap with Ancient technology."

"It'll be fine. Teyla's usually right about these things." Ronon nodded toward the door. "Think you can still eat?"

Rodney huffed, getting to his feet. "I can always eat."

The other man gave a short laugh and clapped Rodney on the shoulder and really, all of this comfort was going to give him a dislocated shoulder. He grumbled something half-heartedly and led the way to the mess hall.

===

One hour and fifty minutes later--because both John and Teyla had gotten there early and after five minutes of his pacing Teyla had radioed for Rodney and Ronon to get there *now*--John looked at his team, trying to force the unease in his stomach down. Teyla and Ronon were sitting with patiently bored expressions aimed at Rodney, who was trying for the same but only ended up looking fidgety.

"John," Teyla broke the silence, smiling welcomingly. "What is it you wish to speak to us about?"

Ronon made a small, amused noise, then leaned back further in his seat as both Teyla and Rodney glared. He just shrugged in response to John's questioning expression.

"Okay." John nodded, unsure, and sat down on the couch next to Rodney. "We all know that last year McKay tricked me into activating an Ancient device, even though I had told him repeatedly that it was a bad idea." He gave Rodney a small glare, wanting to let him know that even if it had been a very *good* thing, tricking your friends was *wrong.* "After that he wouldn't tell us what had happened to him and we were all very frustrated and worried." Another glare, to which Rodney just rolled his eyes.

"I also recall this," Teyla stated. "As well as that we agreed to not force him to tell us."

"I didn't!" he exclaimed. "I mean, I didn't force him. He told me on his own. Finally. I'm lucky I even remember; he got me drunk!"

Ronon smirked. "Again?"

"Rodney," Teyla sighed the name in a long-suffering way. "Why do you insist on getting John intoxicated every time you wish to tell him something?"

"He's so much easier to deal with then," Rodney explained, almost whining. "He's a happy drunk."

John raised his hands, not wanting to go there. "Okay, okay, I'm not done!" He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. Rodney figured he was trying to find his place in his mind and he gave Teyla and Ronon an I told you so look. "All right, this device was a sort of a personal time-travel cloak...thing."

"An experimental technology possibly for use against the Wraith or another enemy because people with the gene dominant could see you. It'd be so convenient to just go back and blow up the first Wraith, wouldn't it?" Rodney smiled tightly.

"Nothing's ever that easy. It sent Rodney back in time about thirty years or so and he met...me. I was in school and he just appeared out of nowhere and followed me home." John's eyes flicked to Rodney for a moment and he smiled, just catching the returning smile before he looked back to Ronon and Teyla. "My parents thought that I'd just made him up," he said with a hint of mocking, but shrugged to counter it. "He lived with me for four years until he managed to recharge the device to send himself home.

"Before he left he told me all about Atlantis, so I sort of knew the both of you before I'd even met you. I knew a lot of what was going to happen, actually, but nothing I did ever changed things." Teyla gave a small nod, knowing he was thinking about Ford. "And...that's it." He blinked, surprised. "That didn't take nearly as long to explain as I thought it would. Um, anything to add?"

He looked over at Rodney, who sat up a little straighter when he realized the question was aimed at him. "No, no. You covered the necessities. Well done."

John turned back to Teyla and Ronon. "Questions?"

Teyla shook her head, smiling. "No, I believe you have explained everything well."

"I'm good," Ronon seconded.

"Really?" John asked, eyebrows going up. "Because it's...weird, and yeah, Ancient technology is always weird and we've had our share of misadventures with it, but this this *time travel.*"

"Wasn't surprised the first time." Ronon replied with a shrug.

John barely had time to wonder 'huh?' before Rodney jumped to his feet, hands already going. "You said you'd keep your mouth shut! We agreed that you'd let him get this out of his system and pretend you didn't know!"

All right, John understood that part. "You told them?"

Ronon tilted his head. "I meant that I wasn't surprised the first time something like this happened. It was when you had that woman in your head, remember?"

Rodney stopped still, hands falling back to his sides and looking embarrassed and a little confused. "Oh. That, uh, I suppose that makes sense."

"McKay, you *told* them?" John demanded again, leaning to the side so he could look up at him.

"What? Yes, of course I told them!" Which really wasn't the best way to put it because now he was being glared at.

"You didn't even ask me!"

Rodney folded his arms over his chest. "*I* was the one sent back in time for four years."

"To *my* childhood." John shot back, standing as well.

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly, pointing a finger at John and looking at Teyla. "Angry!"

Teyla just stared back at him, unamused. "Perhaps if you told him why you told us in the first place."

"To get advice on whether to tell him or not?" Rodney asked, then turned back to John and shrugged.

"What do you mean, whether or not?" John's voice went up at the end. "You weren't going to?"

"I didn't know if you even remembered. Thirty years, as you're so fond of reminding me, is a very long time."

"You would have just never told me, then."

Teyla sighed and turned her head to look at Ronon. The man's eyes flicked to the door and back, questioning. She nodded and they both stood, giving their quarreling team mates a good berth as they headed out of the room.

Rodney grimaced. "No, not really. I had this whole plan to slowly start jogging your memory while I searched for some sort of recall device to trick you into activating so that you would remember."

"Oh." John paused, then narrowed his eyes. "You have got to stop doing that."

"When it stops working, I will." he shrugged.

To their credit, John and Rodney did notice the door closing. John went to open it again and peered out into the hallway.

"Um, thanks! Great talk!" he called after them. Ronon just raised a hand in acknowledgment without turning around. He watched them until they disappeared around the corner, then turned to look at Rodney, who had come to stand next to him. "You could have told me."

"It worked out all right. They weren't really phased when I told them either, and I explained it a lot better than you did," Rodney reassured him.

John leaned back against the wall. "That's Teyla and Ronon for you."

"Do you want to tell anyone else?" he asked sincerely, but John shook his head and grinned a little.

"Nah, not unless something comes up. The team knows, that's all I wanted."

Fic: Shoebox (PG)

2007-02-05T15:30:09Z

Title: Shoebox
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for 'McKay and Mrs. Miller'
Notes: I can't write long stories. I tried. I had to cut it up because I suck at transition scenes. There are a few more of certain scenes I wanted to write and those will come as I am finally pleased with them. My use of tenses needs work.
Notes2: Read these first! Not So Imaginary.

===

Normally John didn't like taking leave. It had to be forced upon him with stern glares and backed up with subtle threats, and even that took a while to take effect. To John, any time away from his helicopters or, more recently, puddlejumpers, was wasted time. Until a few years ago he'd always made the obligatory once-a-year trip to see his parents but even then they could tell he would rather be flying. He hadn't even contacted them since he sent them the letter before leaving for Atlantis.

Him being here now was Rodney's fault. ("What? How long? Go see them right now and get back into their good graces, because, I swear, if I have to eat some tofu-ham thing for Christmas I will murder people.") John had wanted Rodney to come as well, because part of him wanted them to properly meet him. He had even considered asking to get his parents security clearance, since that conversation was going to take a lot of explaining.

Jeannie had roped Rodney into visiting her, though how she found out they had leave he wasn't sure.

The visit hadn't been that bad, he had to admit. Things were awkward for a couple days because really, it had been years. He'd gotten the lecture from his father about not putting his mother through stress like that and that it couldn't have been so secret that he couldn't have sent a postcard, for crissakes. No news had been good news, he'd said, but he didn't want to do that again.

His mother had just cried a bit and hugged the air out of him and fed him, asking the usual questions. Had John made any friends in his unit? Was there a nice girl in his life? A nice boy, maybe? Which led to his father calmly defending his manly honor because John had just sat there with a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his open mouth for a good three minutes. Of course even then all he said was "the boy will tell us when he's ready, don't go scaring him off after we just got him back." John wasn't sure what to think of that.

"John, are you up there?" his mother's voice drifted up through the hallway to the attic.

"Yeah, just a sec," he called back.

"No, no, I'll come up." He heard her footsteps and soon she was crouching in the low attic next to him. "What are you looking for? I've told your father to come up here a hundred times and get this stuff organized, but he never listens. Retired, he says, means not having to do any work."

She said it pleasantly and John smiled. "The box of stuff I had when I was younger," he told her, deliberately vague. "I was about nine or so."

"Hmm, I think it might be more toward the back if we've had it that long."

John nodded and waded through the boxes. Really, he didn't even remember most of this stuff. Had they had this much stuff when they were moving around? Base houses weren't *that* big. He pushed aside some more boxes and pulled one forward that had his name scrawled in black marker on the side. He had to dig inside it a bit but then his hands closed over the large shoebox and he felt a rush of anticipation. His mother looked up as he came back with the box and he could see the emotions pass over her face.

"Oh," she whispered. "That box."

He felt the apologetic smile start on his lips before he pushed it back. "Yeah."

Her face carefully settled into neutrality. "You haven't looked at that box since you graduated from high school."

"Yeah," he repeated, fingers clutching the box a little tighter.

After a long moment, his mother stood and gave a little nod. "Your plane leaves this afternoon, right? I'll have to get cooking if there's to be enough to send for the both of you." She walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the stairs.

John felt his entire body tense and he was speaking before he knew it. "He's real."

She looked back at him and smiled. It wasn't a humoring smile, but it wasn't sincere either and John had the urge to get Rodney on the phone and make her listen. "I know, sweetheart."

When John left later that afternoon he hid the box in his duffel bag, so he wouldn't have to explain it to his father as well. His mother would at least wait until he was gone to tell him.

===

Back at the SGC John found that Rodney had beaten him there, so he just dropped his duffel bag in his temporary quarters and took the smaller bag that was stuffed with tupperware to the labs. As he'd predicted, Rodney was there hunched over his desk and clicking away at something on his laptop. It made John smile and he leaned against the doorframe, feeling a vague sense of relief. It shouldn't be so easy to doubt someone's entire existance just because they were out of sight.

"You know, we really don't have to work until tomorrow," he stated, watching with amusement as Rodney jumped a little. The other man turned toward him and grinned back.

"Yes, yes, but I'm not working at the moment. Come here." He turned the laptop screen as John walked over and held the cursor over a thumbnail. "Jeannie gave these to me before I left. Said I had four years to catch up on so I'd better start here."

They were pictures, he realized. Lots of pictures, all dated. The ones here were dated about five years ago and displayed a small, red-faced baby in a pink knit hat. His niece, apparently. Rodney left that folder and went to another with last week's date on it.

"Madison's a genius, really. Thankfully she got her brains from our side of the family." Rodney clicked on one of the pictures and it took up the entire screen, showing John a rather complexly put-together building of some sort of toy blocks that was taller than the four-year-old standing next to it and grinning. "I'll need to visit more often to make sure she gets the proper influence in her life or she'll be wasting her teenage years moping in her room writing bad, depressing poetry."

"Wouldn't want that," John agreed, playing along. "Why don't you take that to your room while I go heat up the food my mom sent with me? We can eat and you can tell me all about it."

"Oh!" Rodney turned to stare at the bag with a wistful expression. Was he drooling? "She sent food?"

"Yeah, see?" He held the bag open to display the containers. "I think there's some pie in there, too."

Rodney was already getting up and shutting his laptop down. "What are you waiting for? Go get it ready. Starving man here; I've lived off Caleb's so-called cooking for the last week. I need real food."

John nodded sympathetically, though his grin ruined it. "Wouldn't want you wasting away. See you in a few." He gave another nod before heading out of the lab and to the mess.

===

The shoebox was kept under the bed in his quarters on the Daedalus and the moment they were back on Atlantis John gave quick hellos to everyone before taking it to his room.

John plopped down on the bed, box in his lap, and ran a hand over the lid reverently. After Rodney had left him he'd gathered up everything that had been his and put it inside. It had spent his teenage years under his bed and he'd pulled it out on bad days when he had to convince himself that his friend was real. The day he had graduated high school he'd taken everything out and spread it across the bed and the floor. Colorings, drawings, small toys, and notebooks that held equations scrawled in two completely different hands. Seeing it was always enough to ground him and this time was no different. Then he packed it all back up and hid it inside another, larger box to decrease the chances of it 'accidentally' getting lost when his parents moved.

Rodney had noticed the box and had spent the entire trip home bugging him about what it was. It probably would have helped if John hadn't simply given him a shameless smile and a shrug, but teasing his friend was always fun. He'd find out soon enough. It was for him, after all.

Fic: No Excuse For Ignorance (PG)

2007-02-03T03:52:29Z

Title: No Excuse For Ignorance
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Rising and Thirty-eight Minutes.
Notes: Um, someone wanted a Mensa!Ford story, so I spent some time thinking where he would fit. It was hard, as I had Sheppard not military so they wouldn't really know each other all that well at first. I hope this is all right; it's just a glimpse, nothing big.

===

"I'm fine, doc," Aiden pleaded, going to sit up only to be pushed back down by a firm hand. "It was only a few seconds."

Carson just fixed him with an unamused look. "I'll be the judge of that, now," he stated, pressing the stethoscope to the younger man's chest. "You needed that oxygen for quite a bit back there."

"Yeah, but I'm fine now. You should be worrying about the Colonel, not me," he insisted, pointing to the bed a couple down from his. "He had the bug attached to his neck."

Sumner glanced over from where he was speaking with Major Wells. "Don't remind me, Lieutenant," he said gruffly. "You did good work out there today."

"Thank you, sir, but if it hadn't been for Dr. McKay guiding me over the radios we wouldn't be sitting here."

"I'll be sure to thank him." Sumner said, nodding, then he turned back to Wells, outlining all the duties to be done while he was in the infirmary the next few days.

Aiden turned to Carson, who was still hovering and dropped his voice. "It would have been better if McKay had been there with us."

"Just what I need, more of you going offworld and getting yourselves injured," Carson clucked. "Though it is a good idea. Before today I wouldn't have thought so, but if you hadn't been able to speak with Rod then we'd have lost many good men today."

Aiden nodded. "Where is he, by the way?"

"In the Jumper Bay still, I believe, making sure there wasn't any permanent damage done."

"Great," he replied, jumping to his feet. "I want to go thank him in person."

"Now hang on, I haven't released you yet." Carson frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," Aiden repeated, then nodded over at Sumner. "Does the Colonel look a little worn to you? Major Wells has been here for a while now."

"Aye, and keeping the Colonel from much needed rest," the doctor agreed, muttering to himself as he strode determinedly over to the other bed. "All right, visiting hours are now over, Major."

Aiden grinned and slipped out while Carson was busy arguing with the other two. He was fine, really, and didn't need to hear for the fourth time about the slim 'but still very possible' chance of brain damage. If the doctor had his way they'd all be kept in Atlantis and in the main section out of harm's way, and he let them know it.

He made it to the Jumper Bay without the doctor chasing him down and went over to where the Puddlejumper was resting. Looking inside he saw Dr. McKay inspecting the control panel Aiden had had to use to retract the drive pod. He was speaking with Sheppard, who was sitting in the pilot's seat and...crooning? To the ship as he pulled up the displays McKay asked for.

"This wouldn't have happened if I'd been flying." Sheppard muttered.

"You've told me," McKay said easily, focusing on the readings. "And I've told you, there was no way you could have gotten the Jumper through the 'Gate and not get stuck."

"I wouldn't have gotten shot in the first place." the other man replied in an annoyed tone, pulling up another display and letting out a distressed noise.

McKay sighed. "It'll be fine."

"Shouldn't have taught them how to fly," he grumbled. "Then they wouldn't be out there getting my ships shot and damaged. They'd be right here where I could take care of them."

Aiden smiled slightly, stepping up into the Jumper. "You're starting to sound like Dr. Beckett there, Sheppard."

The two men looked up after he spoke, McKay smiling in greeting and Sheppard meeting his gaze blank and even. They hadn't spoken much since the rescue mission they'd taken to get back Sumner and the others. Every time they saw each other he knew they were reminded of him pulling the trigger on Sgt. Bates and Sheppard killing the Wraith Queen. It wasn't the type of thing that started a friendship, especially after the grilling Sumner put them through once they got back.

"Lieutenant, good to see you out of the infirmary," McKay said. "How's Colonel Sumner?"

"Beckett's keeping him for the rest of the week," Aiden replied. "It shouldn't take that long for him to get back on his feet, but the doc just wants to be sure."

"Yes, Carson's a bit of a worrier," he gave an indulgent smile. "Best to let him do what he thinks is necessary. I'd be worried, too; that bug sounded nasty."

Sheppard grimaced at that, leaning back in his chair and going back to his displays without a word.

"Yeah. Anyway, I just came by to thank you for helping me fix the drive pod," Aiden said, standing a little straighter. "You saved our lives."

McKay gave a slight smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Thanks, but you were the one that did it right without even being familiar with the equipment."

He thought he could hear Sheppard muttering in the front of the Jumper, but Aiden just smiled back. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. I know Colonel Sumner didn't want any civilians going offworld, but we've failed to realize the gap in our knowledge that makes. Anything could go wrong with these Jumpers," and he definitely heard Sheppard grumble something about not letting them get shot in the first place. "And we wont always be able to get into contact with Atlantis to be talked through fixing them. It would be good to have someone who knew what they were doing there in case something happens."

McKay looked surprised, but pleased. "I think it would be a very good idea, Ford. I'll bring it up at the next staff meeting."

"Hey," Sheppard turned around to face them again. "If the scientists get to go offworld then I want to be allowed to pilot the Jumpers offworld, too. I'm the best pilot here and I'm stuck giving crash courses to everyone else on the 'safe worlds.'"

"All right, all right," McKay promised, raising a hand to calm the other man. "I'll bring that up as well. Should I make a list?"

"Well, actually-"

Aiden watched as McKay silenced the other man with an exasperated look. "John."

"You're right; we should start with the small stuff first, then work up." Sheppard nodded and turned back to his displays again.

McKay met Aiden's gaze with another smile. "I'll be sure to mention it; Elizabeth will probably be for it as well once I explain. Thanks."

"No problem," Aiden replied, starting to turn. "I'll leave you to this, then."

McKay bid him goodnight and Aiden headed back to his room, letting the walk take the tension out of his body. He'd never been so scared as when he'd had to start literally poking at that console. Even on the SGC teams you had people that knew the 'Gate tech, since something always seemed to go wrong on one world or another. Here, he thought guiltily, they were really all just grunts. Only a small handful had even been through the 'Gate before coming to Atlantis. This would be for the best, and hopefully Dr. McKay and Dr. Weir could convince the Colonel of that.

Fic: Blameless (PG)

2007-02-03T03:41:31Z

Title: Blameless
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Trinity. Unbeta'd, but spell-checked and proofread within an inch of its life.
Notes: When I first saw M&MM, this is what ran through my head. How all that happened to the SGA-verse fit into the MENSA-world. There's a strange lack of fic for it, though, so I wrote my own. A bit bare-bones, descriptive-wise, but it felt appropriate. A bit of the text is from the episode itself.

===

They were just exiting the Jumper, hands still shaking, when Dr. Weir stormed into the bay. Her own hands were trembling in their clenched fists and her cheeks were flushed. The expression in her eyes was livid.

"My office," she bit out, voice strained to keep control. "Now."

She turned without waiting for confirmation and started walking, Rod close behind. John made to follow the scientist, but she spoke without turning around.

"Dr. McKay only."

John's steps faltered and they were already out of the Jumper Bay by the time he recovered. He hurried after them, drawing even with McKay and only a half step behind Weir. "Elizabeth, it's my fault," he explained in a rush. "I thought we could do it if we tried again."

Rod turned his head just a fraction to look at him, speaking softly. "Not now, John."

"He didn't even want to!" he pressed on, quickening his pace so he just ahead of Elizabeth. "I made him, I begged him, Elizabeth. I knew we just needed more time. It should have worked, there was no logical reason--"

"Later, Mr. Sheppard." Elizabeth cut him off, her footsteps a little heavier.

"Don't blame him," John gushed frantically. This was bad, this was so bad. "I swear, it was all me. I'll stay out of the projects from now on. I'll just light things up and tell Zelenka where the wiring's wrong in the Jumpers. I'll...I'll quit. I'll go back to Earth if you fire him. You can't do this, you *need* us--"

"JOHN!"

They all stopped at the volume of Rod's outburst. John spun around, wide-eyed because Rod never yelled; not unless they were being chased or someone was hurt because he was such a worrier...

"You. Have done enough," the scientist told him, voice quiet again but steel-toned. "Go to the labs or go to your quarters. I don't care. Just. Stop. Talking. This is not about you."

His expression never wavered, there was no apology like the few times he lost his temper when he was tired or they were all trying to prevent their imminent destruction. Rod McKay, for the first time since anyone had known him, was angry. Enraged. Even Elizabeth looked surprised under her own annoyance and anger.

Jerkily, John nodded, feeling like all his joints had gone stiff. It was an effort to turn forward again and start walking. Elizabeth and Rod's voices reached his ears but he didn't listen. He stepped into the first transporter he came to and disappeared to his quarters.

===

Hiding in his room had seemed like a good idea for all of ten minutes. Then, a little peeved that he had let Rod cow him into leaving, John headed back out. They were a team, damn it, and he wasn't going to let his team mate, his friend, take the blame for this. If anything they were going down together.

He kept a determined pace all the way to the control room when the voices reached him. Or voice, rather. It was Elizabeth's, carrying out into the wide area clearly even through her closed door and the thick glass walls.

"--putting your life and other people's lives at risk. You destroyed three quarters of a solar system! Why? Because he *asked you to*?"

The techs that were at the gate controls all looked up at him with varying degrees of accusation on their faces. John felt his stomach sink; this was going to be all over Atlantis before dinner and he had the feeling he was going to want to eat that meal in the safety of his room.

Teyla and Ronon came up the steps from the gate room and immediately walked over to where he had frozen upon hearing Elizabeth. What Teyla saw on his face must have concerned her because she stepped forward, actually reaching up and drawing his head down so that their foreheads touched.

"What has happened?" she asked softly, so no one aside from the three of them would hear.

Having Ronon and Teyla here should have been a good thing, should have given him the strength he needed to go storming to Rod's rescue and getting this straightened out. Instead he felt all his energy disappear, leaving him weak in the knees. "I screwed up. I screwed up and Rod's taking the blame for me."

Teyla frowned. "The outpost we discovered?"

John nodded, leaning back from the touch. "It didn't work the first time we tried. Someone...died. Elizabeth and Sumner were going to pull the plug and Rod was going to let them. I asked him to try again. The math was *wrong.* I did the equations myself and found out what the problem was. I convinced Rod we only needed one more shot. Elizabeth let us go and...and it didn't work. It should have worked, there was no reason...the weapon overloaded and blew up five-sixths of the solar system."

Teyla looked horrified, Ronon just frowned. "But it should have worked." the Satedan repeated for clarification.

"Yes!" John hissed. "I did the equations. I let Rod look over the equations! There was nothing wrong."

"Then it was something on the part of the equipment." Teyla offered calmly.

"The Ancients couldn't get it to work," he admitted. "The project was a total failure, but I thought he...I thought we could do this."

The door to Elizabeth's office opened then and Rod came out, looking tired and worn down. He paused briefly when he saw them but turned and headed away from them at a steady, almost running pace.

John broke away from his team and hurried after him. "McKay! Rod, wait up!" Rod didn't slow down, so John sped up and was just coming up on the scientist by the time he reached the transporters. "Rod, please!"

He did stop then, shoulders slumping as he turned around. "John, it's fine. I'm not fired, you're not fired, neither of us are being sent back to Earth. Our next mission's been scrubbed, and my lab hours have been cut back, but that's it."

John's eyes went wide. "You can't go through the Gate? And..and the labs, you can't..?"

Rod shrugged, gaze wandering somewhere over John's right shoulder. "It's hardly a big deal. There's plenty around here to keep me occupied for a couple weeks."

"I am so, so sorry," he exclaimed, taking half a step forward. "Let me talk to Elizabeth. I talked you into continuing the project, you never would have done it if I hadn't made you."

"You didn't make me," Rod told him, the corner of his lips tilting upwards slightly. "I wanted it to work just as much as you did. Your equations were correct, we tried, we failed. Don't worry about it."

He turned and stepped into the transporter, but John rushed forward again until he just outside the doorway.

"You know I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't been sure. You know I don't ask anything of you if I'm not *one hundred percent* confident that we can do it. That said, I don't want you to think I let my confidence cloud my judgment. I would never, *never* do anything to intentionally put your position here in jeopardy."

Rod was still standing there, the transporter doors hadn't closed yet.

"I don't want this to ruin your confidence in me. I want to know that you still trust me and that if you don't...you will again."

They stood in silence, Rod with his hands in his pockets and John with his clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"We're cool." Rod finally murmured, almost too quietly to be heard, and pulled a hand from his pocket to press his destination button.

As soon as the doors closed John let his head tilt back and closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh of relief.

===

"I don't want you to blame John for this, Elizabeth. Honestly, he did nothing I wouldn't have done myself. He's probably been working on the equations from the moment we transferred the information to Atlantis, you know how he is. We really wanted this to work. *I* wanted this to work. He had complete faith in me, do you realize that? He was the first to say that the equipment was faulty after our first try and I didn't see him again until he gave me those equations. He wanted it to work for me.

"Do you know what he said? 'With the correct information, you can make it work. As long as you've got the right data, of course you can make it work.' I had the information, I had the data, and I still failed him, Elizabeth. He went through all that work for me and I let him down. How do I face him, knowing that? I've never been good with failure and when people are expecting success...their opinions of you drop. They aren't as quick to go to you next time because that failure is in their mind.

"I don't know what to do. I need some time off. I know we had a mission next week but I'd appreciate it if you could give it to another team. I'll go to the labs regularly to make sure everything's running smoothly, but if I could have just a couple of weeks to get things sorted out that would be best. I just need some time to think."

end

Fic: A Matter of Respect (PG)

2007-02-03T03:29:54Z

Title: A Matter of Respect
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: A little swearing. I think once.
Notes: A MENSA!verse story. This is also unbeta'd, and my first SGA fic. M&MM kind of ate my brain and I've had so many theories running around in my head I figured I'd try my hand at writing it down. Practice makes perfect.

---

It had seemed innocent enough to start, if a little selfish on her part. Being on Atlantis had not stopped the necessity for her people to be ready fighters and it was she they came to for training. One of the Marines had observed a few of the sessions and had challenged her to a sparring match. It was obvious that it had been planned from the crowd that had gathered and she had felt a satisfying thrill at beating him in front of their audience, though she carefully hid it. She had more challenges after that. There was always an audience and she won every time.

Days passed and she heard the whispers amongst the Marines. Those who had already challenged her were goading others into trying their hand, taunting that they couldn't beat the vicious alien woman. They always emphasized the 'woman.' Their taunts angered her; she was not a game for them to pass their time with. She held onto that anger for the entire afternoon, and when John Sheppard entered she only had a moment of hesitation in accepting his request for a spar.

"I will not hold back." she had warned him, adjusting her hold on her sticks so the weight was comfortable.

He had just smirked at her, spinning one of his own sticks like a toy. "I'd hope not," he drawled. "That would take all the fun out of it."

She had him on his knees with her sticks at his throat before she broke a sweat.

He had jumped up the second she released him, a confused expression on his face. The Marines had all looked humiliated and angry, often defensive. John Sheppard looked as though he didn't know why he had lost, and immediately asked for a rematch.

After that it seemed that any time she was alone, he was there. Her days were spent in the training room beating him soundly into the mats and having him wear that confused and, more recently, annoyed expression. She started to hold back, just a little, to draw it out. Sometimes she allowed herself to indulge in a few less than traditional moves. It was worth it to see the look in his face when she smacked him soundly just below his buttocks the once. She wouldn't admit it but their sessions had become something she looked forward to. It had become relaxing to spar, even if she kept her guard up.

---

In the mess hall, as they called the large room where they all gathered at irregular times to eat their meals, she observed him sitting with Dr. McKay. John Sheppard was pushing a small plate of some..gravy covered pile to Dr. McKay's side of the table.

"What? I thought you liked those." Dr. McKay exclaimed.

"I'm out of shape," was his reply, and he waved his fork as he scowled. "I let myself get out of shape since I got here. Which is your fault, by the way."

"The rules of being a civilian don't include sleeping in until noon and eating Jell-O for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"If I were still military--"

"Colonel Sumner would have you behind a desk all day doing all the paperwork instead of being down in the labs with me discovering the secrets of Atlantis. Elizabeth and I made the right choice in getting the SGC to let you come as a civilian rather than under Sumner's command."

"I wouldn't have gotten lazy and Teyla wouldn't keep beating me at that stick fighting thing."

"She *is* the best at it. That is really getting to you, isn't it?"

"We've sparred eight times in the last week and every time I'm either on my knees or on my back with those sticks at my throat. This shouldn't be happening. She's *playing* with me."

Teyla got up from her table, calmly leaving the mess hall. She supposed it had been too much to ask to believe that the man that had led the rescue mission to save her people would be different. In reality he was more stubborn, but just as prideful.

---

There was a span of three days where she and John Sheppard did not meet to spar. The first day he had not shown up and she felt foolish for waiting. After that, she had stayed away from the training room, instead sitting in on the Council's meetings. It had been something she had neglected recently and that they had all smiled and pardoned her 'fascination with the Earthlings' as understandable had caused her to sit stiffly and pay fierce attention for the rest of the discussions.

On the fourth day she was training Jinto when John Sheppard came in. He didn't say anything, just waved for them to carry on and leaned against the wall. It was distracting, but she finished Jinto's training quickly and sent him off.

"You," the man exclaimed as soon as the door had closed, and lifted a finger for emphasis. "Have been avoiding me."

She raised an eyebrow, expression schooled into an unreadable mask. "I have not."

"Yes, you have." he shot back immediately.

"No," she drew the word out slowly. "I have not."

"Have to. It's because I got close to beating you that last time, isn't it?"

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "I assure you, that is not the reason."

A grin spread across his face and he pushed himself off of the wall. "It is! I got close and you don't want to admit it. You've been avoiding me because you don't want me to beat you!"

Before she could reply he was across the room, grabbing the pair of sticks that had slowly become exclusively his over the last week and a half. He came back, stopping a few feet from her and held up his sticks.

"Come on, let's do this."

The anger that had come and gone in small waves since she had started sparring with these new people flooded her all at once. She lifted her chin and raised her own sticks, his answering smirk only adding to her determination. He let his eagerness lead him and leapt forward. The only sounds in the room was their sharp breathing and the loud smacking of their sticks. She didn't let him have an advantage this time. Their sparring had made him better, but he was still no match for her. She threw him to the ground, his sticks skittering away across the mats.

"You *have* been holding back!" he accused, eyes wide. "I knew it!"

She stepped back from him, giving him the look she usually reserved for the haughtier children she helped to train. "Is defeating me so vital to reaffirming your masculinity amongst your people?"

He blinked at her. "Huh?"

"All of your people, your 'Marines,'" she fought hard not to spit the word. "Tease each other at my having beaten them in sparring, as though it proved their weakness and not my strength. If you are ashamed for having a woman best you then you should not have engaged one."

John Sheppard sat up, hands falling between his legs to rest on the floor. "You think I keep trying to beat you because you're a girl?"

"What else could be the reason?" she asked him firmly.

"How about that you beat me?"

Her brow creased in confusion. "Is that not--"

He jumped to his feet, arms spread at his sides. "Me! We've sparred eight--no, no, nine times. Nine! It hasn't taken me any more than two tries at anything before I mastered it, and yet you keep beating me! I've run it through my head hundreds of times, considered all the factors, but nothing changed. Then I thought I was actually getting somewhere and it turns out you were just humoring me! I tried and I tried, damn it, why can't I beat you?!"

A calm settled over her as she watched him go through his rant, ending in more of a childish scream than any masculine rage. She had not realized that John Sheppard was so...arrogant that not mastering a complex fighting technique in less than a week would send him into such fits. Still, it was simply that he was not progressing at what he believed was his level of capability and not whom he was losing to that had him striving so desperately for accomplishment. While she did not approve of his ego, she could respect that drive for perfection.

He was staring at her, expecting an answer. She recalled Dr. McKay's words at the mess hall that day. "I am the best."

"Yeah," he agreed, making a small 'hmph'ing sound. "That's what McKay told me."

They stood silent for a long moment, neither knowing what to do with the other and both too stubborn to leave. Finally, Teyla met his gaze and lifted her sticks. "I would be willing to teach you," she cautiously extended the offer, then added. "You possess more potential than the others here I have sparred with."

That seemed to put him back in place. His arms crossed over his chest even as he started to grin again. "Well, of course. I have more determination, too. They all just gave up after you beat them once. I told McKay, I told him I could beat you once I got the hang of this."

She narrowed her eyes again, though she felt nothing more than what she assumed was going to be a constant niggling of annoyance in the back of her mind. "You are nowhere near my level yet."

"Just wait," John Sheppard told her confidently, striding across the room to reclaim his sticks. "Two weeks. Tops."

She had lived with worse.

---

"You know, McKay got permission from Weir to have his own offworld team." John Sheppard told her, a little more than two weeks later as he rolled himself to his feet on the mats once more.

"Even though...Colonel Sumner had previously opposed this." Teyla replied slowly, pulling to the front of her mind that John had talked about almost nonstop for the last week.

"Yeah. No first-contact missions or anything like that, too dangerous, but still. It's a lot better than being stuck here day in and day out."

"You have been chosen to accompany Dr. McKay?" she asked, correctly guessing the eye roll and spin of the stick in his right hand that he did when she had commented on something painfully obvious.

"Of course. He knows I wouldn't let him get to go offworld and leave me stuck here," he lifted his chin and gave her a smug grin. "I'm the first person he asked, no contest."

She did not say anything to that, only continuing her cool-down stretches. When he had something on his mind it was best to let him run it through or he would be useless while they sparred.

"McKay's already working out with Sumner which of the Marines will join us. That was part of the deal, otherwise we'd have a whole group of them following us everywhere. It's better to deal with one bored Marine than eight," he laughed a bit at that. "And he said I could choose our fourth."

The way he paused made her look up. He was swinging his sticks at his sides, that self-assured grin on his face. She straightened as her thoughts put his ramblings together, but she did not offer anything to continue the conversation.

"It'll be great. Visiting new worlds, and okay, maybe not new to you, though some might be since we can access planets with space Gates because of the Puddlejumpers and you couldn't do that before. We'll be finding new technology to defeat the Wraith and save the galaxy. We'll be the best team here. We'll be unstoppable."
She watched him and once she was sure he was finished she gave him a small nod. "I will consider your offer."

He gaped at her as she started toward the door. "Consider like..you'll tell me at dinner?"

"I must converse with the Council." she informed him without looking back.

"But..but that'll take *days*!"

She was confident in the matter. The time would pass quickly for her.

"I can't guarantee the spot will still be open after today!" John Sheppard called after her one last time.

It would be, she knew. She did not smile as she headed to the residential area set aside for her people, but she could not deny the sense of anticipation rising within her.

end

Fic: Boundaries: Sleeping (G)

2007-02-03T02:48:02Z

Title: Boundaries: Sleeping
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: G, oh, so G
Warnings: G!
Spoilers: For the Not So Imaginary series. There might be canon references up to 308 that I don't realize I'm putting in there, but nothing after. I don't know if I'm going to acknowledge the later eps yet for it. Heh.
Notes: This isn't either of the pieces I talked about doing, but it was something I wanted in one of them. It didn't fit very well where I was trying to put it so I made it into its own story. This is set after the series.

===

It took Rodney a couple of weeks to catch on and really, he should have known much sooner than the fifth time it happened. It started when John would come by late in the evening, holding up a movie and a bowl of popcorn or chips or the latest snack from beyond the Stargate. He'd give a large toothy grin that Rodney had told him only served to make him look unbalanced, but would then let him in anyway. They'd stretch out on his bed and watch the movie on his laptop, and somewhere near the end John always ended up asleep with his head back against the headboard, or tilted forward, or on Rodney's shoulder.

There would be about five minutes where Rodney gently poked John in the shoulder or the side, and once the cheek, before giving up and shifting the other man into a more suitable position for sleep and pulling the blankets over them both. It was too much trouble to wake him, he told himself every time, and had nothing to do with how peaceful John looked when asleep or that after four years of sharing a small bed the one in his room seemed too vast for just him.

The morning after the first time Rodney woke up better rested than he had since he got back, even though there was a half a foot of space between them.

The second time they'd been in their tent on an overnight mission. When he'd woken up to take his watch John's sleeping bag had moved from his side of the tent and overlapped with part of his, the man inside sleeping away obliviously on the side closer to Rodney.

The third time they had both slept on their backs, so Rodney's entire right side was warmer than his left from where John's own side was pressed close.

The fourth morning he'd woken early and found John clinging to his arm, his grip too tight to break but thankfully not painful.

The fifth morning, now, and it was much earlier than he should be allowed to be awake. He'd woken to an almost familiar pressure on his chest and had just managed to lift his head enough to see that John had moved in the middle of the night. He was lying half on top of Rodney, his head resting directly over Rodney's heart.

Rodney tried to move his legs and found the reason one of them felt numb was that John's legs were wrapped around it. All he could think was 'oh' and try to make himself a little more comfortable. The hands fisted in his t-shirt tightened at the movement and only relaxed when he gave up his quest for comfort and lay still.

He fell back asleep, eventually, and when he woke at a more decent hour--judging by the faint sunlight clinging to the walls--John was back by his side and the six inches of mattress had reappeared between them. Rodney rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squinted at John, his sleep-clogged mind trying to work towards something that he wasn't even conscious of yet.

The alarm blared, making him jump a little and forcing the last of the sleep haze away. He tucked one of his elbows under him and reached over John to shut it off, bringing blessed silence back to the room. As Rodney moved to lie back down, John began to shift under him. Rodney settled onto his side and watched as John shifted a little more, then rolled onto his back. He straightened into a stretch and brought his arms over his head with a low, satisfied grunt. His arms flopped back down at his sides and he opened his eyes, blinking once, twice, before turning his head to the side and giving a sleepy smile.

"Morning," John greeted quietly, his voice just a little rough.

It clicked then, and the utter ridiculousness of John's actions made Rodney smile back. "Good morning."

John slowly sat up as though his limbs were still heavy from sleep and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sleep well?"

"Very," he replied, not bothering to get up yet. "You?"

"Yeah, yeah." The last word was stretched as John gave an exaggerated yawn. He turned so his legs dangled over the bed and reached for his shoes. "Meet you for breakfast in half an hour?"

Rodney smirked a little as he stared at John's back. "Mhmm, that'll work."

Once his shoes were tied John gave an energetic jump to his feet and looked back with a grin. "Great. See you then."

Rodney let him get halfway to the door, counting the steps before he spoke. "John?" The other man turned, eyebrows rising curiously. "Next time you want to sleep over just bring a change of clothes."

The way John's eyes went wide just before his expression closed off and his body went tense gave Rodney a brief feeling of doubt, but he just smiled back at him and waited. It didn't take long for John to relax again and he gave an almost shy smile.

"Sorry, I just..." He shrugged and let out a soft huff of laughter.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Me too, all right?" He waved a hand in a shooing motion. "Go on, we've got a meeting later and I want to get breakfast first."

John gave him a brighter smile and nodded. He all but bounced out and into the hallway, hands in his pockets, and Rodney could see his carefully controlled gait before the door slid shut.

He snorted softly and got out of bed, going to his dresser for clothes. The thought crossed his mind to get another pillow but it was quickly dismissed. John probably wouldn't end up using it anyway, and his own was big enough for two.

end

Fic: Here (PG)

2007-02-03T02:44:00Z

Title: Here
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Wee bit of swearing.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: This is the conclusion of the Not So Imaginary series. Previous parts should really be read unless you like being confused because, really, it's more fun that way. So find your way to Not Your Average Imaginary Friend, One Hell of A Coincedence, and Not Quite on the Same Page. I hope you enjoy.

===

He hadn't planned it to be like this, but when fate, or in this case Elizabeth and Teyla, hands you such a perfect opportunity, you don't overlook it. It was Jinto's birthday celebration and the boy, now a man to his people even if the Atlantis expedition still saw him as an overeager teenager, had begged for them to come. There was dancing and alcohol, and John had always strangely been just a bit of a cheap drunk.

They were sitting back from where everyone was dancing, a thick blanket under them and a couple off to the side for when they finally decided to pass out. Elizabeth had made it clear that no one was flying back to Atlantis that night, no matter how drunk they thought they weren't. Rodney was nibbling at the last pieces of food on the plate he'd brought over and John was sprawled on his back, humming along happily to the music.

After a while, Rodney set his plate aside and leaned over, quelling his nervousness and smirking at his happy-go-lucky friend. "Hi, John."

The other man stopped humming and looked up at him, a grin splitting his face. "Hi, Rodney."

One thing he'd found out from the few times he'd been in the presence of his intoxicated friend was that he would do anything Rodney asked of him--if he called him by his first name. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," he drawled out, stretching his arms above his head and then leaving them there. "This is great. Really, really great."

"Good," Rodney replied. "So, John."

"Hmm?"

He smiled slightly. "Who's your best buddy in the whole universe?"

That earned him a delighted bark of laughter. "My Rodney." John stated and Rodney heard the unspoken 'who else?' at the end. The possessive confirmed how drunk John was and Rodney had never understood it until just now. It threw him, as had all of the little things about John that were suddenly layered with meaning.

"Yeah, that's me," he agreed, voice thick. "Hey, you want to hear a story?"

John gave a little snort. "You're terrible at telling stories, Rodney."

His smile widened. "You like them anyway."

"Yeah." the other man confessed, turning onto his side as his eyes started to slide shut.

Rodney reached over and poked him in the arm. "Hey. John. Stay awake or no story. It's a good one."

Slowly, John's eyes cracked halfway open and he lifted his gaze to meet his friend's.

"That's better," Rodney said, shifting to make himself more comfortable on the blanket and just stretched himself out on his back beside John. "All right. There once was this genius that found this device and he wanted to know what it did. His friend, the Colonel--"

"Best friend." John murmured.

"His best friend, the Colonel," he amended. "Didn't think the device was safe and wouldn't help, so the genius tricked him."

"Which was wrong." John interrupted again.

"Yes, it was wrong." Rodney sighed.

"But the Colonel still loves him anyway."

"*Yes,* thank you. Can the genius finish telling the story?" he asked without any real heat. When John didn't object, he continued. "Now the device was a sort of experimental hybrid technology, a combination of an invisible shield and a time transportation device. It's actually much more complicated than that but I want to finish this before you pass out on me. Now, he tricked the Colonel into activating it, and it sent the genius back in time and to a place all the way back on Earth.

"No one could see the genius and the device was damaged, and he had no idea where he was. However, he found a boy, very young, that could see him. The boy was very lonely and none of the other children at his new school would play with him, so the genius decided to stick around and be his friend. He stayed with the boy for four years and they took care of each other, but eventually the genius managed to fix the device and charge it by going to electronics stores while the boy was in school and letting it leech the energy. It took a long time, but it was enough to send him home."

He watched for John's reaction, but he only stared back at him silently and Rodney wondered if waiting for him to get drunk had been the wisest course of action.

"He left the boy alone." John whispered just as he was about to start again.

The softness of his voice gave Rodney a stab of guilt. Under that was a sliver of hope that the other man was remembering and not just guessing along. "Yes, he did. Before he left he made sure to tell the boy how to find him when he grew up so he could help him save the galaxy, though, so he wouldn't have to be alone forever."

John's eyes were closing now as he slowly lost the battle to stay awake.

"When the genius got back to his city, the boy was there waiting for him, all grown up," Rodney said quickly, wanting to finish before he completely fell asleep. "It was the Colonel, his best friend, as he'd known it would be. He wanted to say something but everything was mixed up, because to the Colonel he'd barely been gone at all and it all felt so unreal after that he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. He wasn't even sure if the Colonel remembered him at all or if he'd just think he was insane and...and you had better remember this in the morning, John," he whispered fiercely. "Because I don't think I can say all this again."

He carefully pulled one of the blankets over John, then one over himself. He lay there for a while, head turned and just watched John sleep until he felt his own eyes grow heavy and joined him.

===

When Rodney woke up the sun was almost directly overhead. He squinted, the sharp rays burning his eyes and muttered something about vision problems as he tried to make his muscles work enough to sit up. He was just getting his elbows firmly under himself when something cold and wet splashed his face hard.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were still asleep."

He spat out the water that had gotten into his mouth and lay back down, wiping his hands over his wet face. When he opened his eyes again he saw John standing over him, one hand at his side holding an empty cup and the other holding another cup that he was sipping from.

"What was that for?" he demanded, now fully awake and sitting up successfully.

John tilted his head to the side to the area where the Jumpers sat. "We're getting ready to head back. You're the only one not up." he explained, holding the still full cup out to Rodney.

"I was getting there before you tried to drown me." Rodney grumbled, taking the cup and sipping from it. Oh, sweet Athosian hangover almost-cure. His stomach felt better already. He hadn't even had that much last night, he'd wanted to stay sober enough to tell John...

"Come on, let's get going." the other man said, reaching down and pulling Rodney to his feet. He gathered up the blanket and started off without another word, leaving Rodney to follow.

They got everyone into the Jumpers in good time, as half of them were extremely hung over. John insisted that he even hung over he could fly better than Rodney so he flew them and their group back to Atlantis. The flight was quiet, only quiet murmurs and laughter from the back. Once they were docked in the Jumper Bay, Rodney made to get up and follow their passengers out. He was fairly convinced that his plan had failed and it left him feeling awkward around his friend.

"Sit down, Rodney." John ordered softly before Rodney could even make it to the back compartment.

He did, giving the other man a wary look as he eased himself back into his seat. John wasn't even looking at him and once all of the other Jumpers were docked he opened the communications connection to the Control Room.

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. McKay forgot some of his stuff back on the mainland, we're gonna head back there real quick."

Rodney frowned, not calling him on the lie even as the techs in the 'Gate room confirmed John's plan. His heart felt like it was in his throat as the Jumper rose up through the open roof and headed once more toward the mainland. He watched John out of the corner of his eye but his expression betrayed nothing, and perhaps that was a sign. John's face should never be that blank, that clean of emotion.

"I didn't take anything with me to the mainland." he couldn't help pointing out, his voice wavering uncertainly.

"Yeah," the other man agreed. "I know."

He didn't volunteer anything else, so Rodney sat back in his seat and waited. They flew past the Athosians' camp and kept going for another five minutes before John finally brought the Jumper down in a clearing large enough to accommodate it. It hummed as it settled, then went quiet, but neither of them moved.

John shifted in his seat, then all but threw himself to his feet. "Come on." he said, starting toward the back of the Jumper.

Rodney scrambled clumsily out of his own seat in his haste and hurried after. He thought John was going to go out the back of the Jumper, but just before the man reached the door he spun around and used the fact that Rodney was only a couple of steps behind him--and still moving--to wrap his arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly. They stood like that, Rodney stiff and awkward and John making no motion to let him go.

"I am so pissed off at you right now, you have no idea." John complained, dropping his forehead onto his friend's shoulder.

Slowly, Rodney relaxed, bringing one arm up to rest across John's back. "Oh? Can I just say first then, that I am so, so relieved? The way you acted on the mainland...I wasn't sure..."

"Pissed," he repeated as though Rodney hadn't spoken. "You got me *drunk.*"

"Wait, what? You got yourself drunk!"

"And took advantage of me."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You're much more harmless that way. It was out of self-preservation."

"Thank you."

He paused, blinking at the sudden shift from accusing to thankful. "Yes, well, no thanks necessary. And you can, ah, let go now."

He felt a quick huff of air through his shirt, as though John were laughing quietly. "*Thirty years,* Rodney." John stressed, sounding so lost but relieved and he hugged him tighter.

Just like that, something inside Rodney seemed to unravel with the realization. His other arm came up and he hugged John back, closing his eyes with a sigh. "It has, hasn't it?" he said softly. "But it's all right now. I'm here."

end

AND! You should read these. openice wrote them and they are amazing. She writes wee!John so well.

Hello, Love You, Goodbye

Love A Sky So Blue

Count The Ways (Love A Sky So Blue Redux)

Fic: Not Quite on the Same Page (PG)

2007-02-03T02:39:05Z

Title: Not Quite on the Same Page
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Swearing, a bit.
Spoilers: For the last two stories below and a slight reference to McKay and Mrs. Miller. Pretty sure that's all. EDIT: And Epiphany. Woops.
Notes: This is the third part of what frighteningly enough became a series. It would be a wise decision to read Not Your Average Imaginary Friend and One Hell of A Coincedence

===

The device was about the size of a tennis ball and ugly as sin. One side was smooth, rounded and a sea green color. The other was bumpy and malformed, attached to the smooth side unevenly. It was also the most disgustingly pale shade of brown John had ever seen. It looked like someone had superglued two entirely different things together and had then taken a hammer to them to make sure they *stayed* together.

"I don't want to touch it." he said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet apart in a decisive pose.

Rodney stared back at him, unimpressed. "And why is that, pray tell?"

John uncrossed his arms enough to wave at the...thing. "Look at it! There is no way the Ancients made that."

"Because it's ugly." the scientist stated dryly.

He was not getting into that argument with him. "You have the gene, you touch it."

"I have," Rodney ground out, sitting back in his chair. "And while I would love to sit around for a week wooing it into actually doing something, it's so much easier to just use you."

"Did you just admit to pimping me out to alien technology?" he frowned, a little off-balance.

There was the eye-roll, as though John was the most difficult person alive and it was Rodney's self-sacrificing way to suffer through it. "Just touch it already."

"No!" John nearly shouted. "It's not right, Rodney. You've always listened to my hunches before."

"Yes, because it was made in genuine concern and not because it looked 'icky.'"

"I never said icky."

Rodney closed his eyes with a sigh and John wondered what equations he was doing in his head to help him resist the urge to throttle him right there. John usually went through the wiring system on the Jumpers or listed gate addresses.

"I mean it. I don't like it." he insisted.

"Fine, fine," Rodney waved a hand at John, dismissing him. "Go. I'll work on it on my own. With our luck, if we let this go it'll turn out to be something infinitely useful."

That had been the last John had heard about it, and honestly, he'd let it slip from his mind. Rodney, of course, was not one to let an opportunity pass him by.

===

He let his legs take him where he needed to go, rehearsing in his mind how he was going to tell Rodney the truth. Okay, the truth was a bad word, it implied lying. John had never lied to Rodney; he'd been careful about that. The time-travel idea hadn't been sold to him until they'd found the old Elizabeth, but once it had he realized that Rodney would have to go back sometime. He wasn't sure how, though, and the thought unsettled him. The only technology capable of travel through time had been the Puddlejumper the other Elizabeth had told them about, but scouring the bay had produced nothing.

John remembered that his Rodney hadn't known how he'd ended up in a kindergarten classroom, saying that that must have been when John thought him up. He knew now that Rodney was anything but a figment of his imagination, but it certainly made figuring this out harder.

What would he do, anyway? He couldn't *stop* Rodney from going back in time; he was the only reason he'd decided to join the Air Force in the first place. He loved flying, sure, but he hadn't known that when he was *five.*

The last story Rodney had told him when he was younger had been about an alternate reality and an impostor McKay that had come to Atlantis to save his own, and while he hadn't been evil, he was annoying and smiled far more than was good for him. John had met Rod, and okay, he smiled a lot, but he hadn't really been that annoying. What pained him was that he hadn't been able to find an alternative to using their ZPM. He'd known it was going to be depleted, but he couldn't exactly deny the other McKay the chance to return home.

What all that meant was that Rodney had to be going back *soon* and while it might screw things up, he wanted to tell the scientist. He'd throw his friend back in time himself if it meant keeping everything intact, but he'd waited almost three years for Rodney and himself to be on the same page, no advantages over the other, and this was it. It gave him a nervous thrill to know that from here on out he was moving blindly forward.

John strode through the lab door and over to the table Rodney was hunched over. "Rodney, hey, do you have a minute?"

"I'm on the brink of discovery, Colonel," the scientist replied distractedly. "Can't it wait?"

John stopped just behind the chair and grimaced slightly. "It's kind of important."

"How important is 'kind of' important?"

"I *need* to *tell* you something." he ground out, gritting his teeth to keep his voice at a normal volume.

Rodney's hands paused in their work for a brief moment before continuing. "Tell me, then."

John's anger deflated. How could he do this if the other man wouldn't even look at him? "Could you at least put whatever it is you're working on away first?"

"I'm perfectly capable of working and listening at the same time, thank you." the scientist explained casually.

"But-! Fine," he sighed. Now or never, he told himself, trying to keep his nerve. "When I was in kindergarten--"

"Hang on," Rodney interrupted, causing John to trip over his next words. He glanced at him over his shoulder. "Is this some embarrassing childhood story that you're going to tell me so I don't feel as bad about all of the things my sister told you?"

"What?" John blinked, then shook his head. "No!"

"Liar," he said in an amused sort of tone. He turned halfway and held out the device he was working on. "Hold this for a second."

John took it, not looking away from Rodney's face. At least he was looking in the right direction now. "Look, when I was in kindergarten, my family moved in the middle of the school year. I hated it. It was freezing and gray all the time and everyone kept saying my accent was funny. My first day at school the other kids ditched me during recess and no one talked to me at lunchtime."

He stopped talking as Rodney grabbed the device, which had started to glow, back from him and frowned at it.

"Rodney!" he yelled, knowing he had lost his friend's attention.

"Just a second," Rodney held up a hand, turning back to the table. "It's been gathering energy constantly since I managed to turn it on last week. Just very small amounts, probably from the other equipment that was around it. It left the ZPM alone so I wasn't worried, but now it.."

He trailed off, fingers clicking furiously at the keyboard. In front of him the device glowed a little brighter and John's eyes narrowed. "Is that...that's the one I didn't want to touch, isn't it? McKay!"

"You took it!" Rodney shot back without looking over.

"You knew I wasn't paying attention!"

"Not my fault. Okay, it's definitely activated and all that energy is being
released, but where?"

John stepped forward. "I'm turning it off."

"What? No!" he protested, smacking the reaching hand away. "None of the systems are being affected and the readings aren't indicating anything dangerous. Just wait a minute."

The device only got brighter as they waited and a low, rumbling hum started up. It grew louder and the sound fluctuated in tone irregularly like a badly tuned piano.

"That's it." John stated angrily, his skin crawling, and reached over again. This time Rodney grabbed up the device before John could touch it and got to his feet. The hum pitched very high and John watched Rodney flicker once, out and then back in sight. The device's whine had skipped as well, and finally it got lower and softer until it dimmed and shut off. John stood tense and ready, eyes going from the device to the scientist and back, waiting for...something.

Rodney just stood there, his own eyes unfocused, then blinked rapidly and fixed his gaze on John, expression surprised. "Oh," he breathed, fingers clenching and unclenching around the dormant device. "It worked. Good, that's..."

His knees buckled and John leapt forward, arms going around his friend's middle to keep him up. "Rodney? Buddy, you okay?" he asked slowly, sagging to the floor under the weight as he realized Rodney had passed out. He keyed his comm and barked urgently for Carson. "We need a stretcher to McKay's lab. One of the devices did something and knocked him unconscious."

"We're on our way, Colonel." Beckett replied and cut the connection.

John leaned back against the table leg, Rodney pulled to his side. He had a hand on his arm to steady him and frowned as his fingers slid over fabric and onto bare skin. He yanked at the shirtsleeve gently, running his finger along the perimeter of the wide hole there. Looking down he saw two more holes in the knees of Rodney's pants and the shoes on his feet were definitely not the ones he'd been wearing a few minutes ago.

He didn't have longer to think on it because Carson's team was there and they took Rodney from him, loading him onto the gurney and wheeling him to the infirmary. John was right on their heels, answering Carson's questions and answering them again for Elizabeth when she met them on the way.

"I don't *know,*" he hissed to Elizabeth as they waited on the far side of the infirmary, keeping Rodney in sight. "All he did was touch it and then he did this...flickering thing. He was fine for about half a minute, then he just passed out."

She nodded. "I've given orders for Radek to keep everyone away from that lab, just in case. After we figure out what it did to Rodney we'll decide what to do with it."

"We can toss it off the pier for all I care." John grumbled, sitting back in his chair.

Ronon and Teyla joined them not long after that and they all kept watch over their friend, not moving even after Carson told them that it seemed as though Rodney had merely passed out from strain and exhaustion. John brought up the change in his clothing and what the scientist had said, but they wouldn't know what happened for sure until Rodney woke up.

===

It had been three days and Rodney wouldn't discuss what had happened to him with anyone but Heightmeyer, as she wasn't be allowed to tell. It annoyed John to no end and after the third time he had cornered her, she had sicced Elizabeth on him.

"Dr. Heightmeyer assures me that this wont affect Rodney's work," she stated, giving him a look that said 'I know you're worried but you're being a complete asshole. Don't make me take you down.' He got that look a lot. "And unless I see otherwise I'm not going to pressure him about it. He'll tell us when he's ready."

He'd nodded, because what else could he say? He wasn't even sure if this was the right event. Maybe something else had happened to Rodney. He wouldn't know unless Rodney *told* him.

This whole living it for the first time thing? Striding blindly forward? Sucked.

===

John had never had a lot of patience. It only ever looked like he did because the people around him had even less. The waiting for Rodney to come to him and bare his soul deal was taking too long, so John took matters into his own hands. He was worried, Rodney was his teammate and best friend; he'd understand a lot better than Heightmeyer would. He'd gotten stuck in that time-dilation field for six months ago, hadn't he? He'd come back to an Atlantis that had barely moved while he was gone. Unfortunately, his idea for a group therapy had been shot down by
Heightmeyer. She was on to him.

"Come on," he whispered sweetly to the console in front of him, feeling a little foolish. How Rodney and Zelenka did it--in front of people, no less--without dying of embarrassment he didn't know. "I just need a little help here. It's very important I hear what's going on in that room. You want to help me, don't you?"

He tried to sound as sincere as possible. The lab was empty and John had locked the door to make sure no one bothered him. Only Rodney took care of the communications system anyway and he wasn't going to be coming by any time soon.

He ran his hands over the console, feeling more than a hint of perverseness for *feeling the city up* but this was important and really, no different from touching the Ancient devices or opening doors. Really. The small speaker in front of him crackled for a moment as it turned on.

"-o think?" Rodney's exasperated voice came through loud and clear and John grinned in triumph, giving the speaker and console a proud pat. "Four years of my life I'll never get back, wasted by being the plaything of a four-year-old!"

John's stomach dropped. "Five and a half." he murmured defensively, though there was no firmness behind it.

"It was miserable! I had to sneak food, steal clothes and wash them when no one was home! We had to rush through bathing before his mother made him get out! And do you know how small the bed was?!"

"Why did you share a bed?" Heightmeyer asked in that annoying casual tone.

"Because," Rodney bit out. "He was afraid the *monsters* would *eat* me."

John felt his face flush. What five-year-old didn't have monsters under his bed?

"That's a common fear for a young child to have." Heightmeyer explained.

"It's a stupid fear. Children are just so.." Rodney's voice lost some of its heat, turning tired. "So stupid. All they ever want to do is play. They don't think about anyth--"

His hand slammed on top of the box, mentally screaming OFF at it before he could even realize what he was doing. Of course, John thought. He had never thought of how Rodney would see those years. It had never occurred to him that he was worrying about the fate of the people on Atlantis without him. Four years working desperately to get home, constantly being distracted by a child's pleas to play, to read to him, to help him with his homework. He hadn't been a friend, he'd been a nuisance.

John stood slowly, stomach lurching. It hadn't been a total waste, had it? Rodney was the reason he'd joined the Air Force. Without him he'd have never been in Antarctica to sit in the chair that would help them get to Atlantis. Once they'd gotten here, without him a lot of the technology wouldn't have worked as easily, they wouldn't have even survived the first time around without the other John Sheppard to pilot the time-travelling Puddlejumper.

He wouldn't have woken the Wraith.

No, they wouldn't have come so far in defeating the Wraith. Being here was a good
thing; wars weren't won in a day and without a hell of a lot of casualties. Teyla had assured him of that, that in spite of everything she was glad to finally be able to make a difference.

Rodney didn't really think it was that bad. They'd had fun, right? Rodney'd taught him math and he'd gotten all the chocolate John's allowance could get. They'd played in the summer and when it got cold he'd always put his share of the mini-marshmallows into Rodney's mug of hot chocolate. They'd been friends. Best friends.
John left the lab and decided to run until he was too tired to think. Ronon had joined him and outlasted him, of course, giving a short nod that was his show of understanding. He figured that John was getting frustrated over Rodney's unwillingness to confide in them, and he had been. He'd rather be pissed and oblivious now though. With a nod of his own he slouched off to his room, collapsing on the bed and falling asleep without bothering to change.

===

The rest of the week consisted of John throwing two hissy fits: one resulting in the destruction of his own room and the other bringing about his first real shouting match with Teyla and ended in bruises and bloody noses with Ronon holding them apart and then dragging them to Beckett. Rodney had come in and shouted at them for being ten-year-olds and to next time fight without any sticks in reach. He'd also threatened to send them to couples therapy and John had made a scathing comment about Rodney's own openness from where he was curled up on one of the beds with an ice pack pressed to his inner thigh.

"So this is all my fault, of course it is," Rodney had muttered, rolling his eyes. "I've told you: I was not tortured, I was not hurt, starved, imprisoned, or in danger of any kind. I was practically on vacation."

His berating tone just made John huff and roll--carefully--to his other side.
"Very mature, Colonel."

"Perhaps if you told us what did happen," Teyla pointed out, her voice a little off from the cloth pressed to her nose. "Then it would put our minds at rest."

"Nothing happened," Rodney insisted. "It doesn't matter."

"If it didn't matter then there's no reason to keep it a secret." Ronon added, and John gave a small 'ha!' without looking over.

"There's no reason to tell!"

"John is worried, and your defensiveness lately has put me on edge as well." Teyla stated firmly.

There was a brief pause in the conversation, probably with Rodney glaring and Teyla and Ronon looking back at him with those unamused expressions...well, Ronon might be amused. Finally, he heard Rodney let out an annoyed breath. "I have work to do. Stop trying to kill each other; Elizabeth will never let us go offworld next week if you keep this up." And then he was gone and John was no closer to figuring things out, only now he was bruised and aching and Carson wouldn't give him anything more than aspirin.

===

After that, Rodney stopped avoiding them at meal times and being so distractedly formal at meetings. He still didn't admit what had happened to him and John had to hide his annoyance at the fact. The only reassurance was that it didn't seem to affect his friendship with John, which was honestly confusing as he had been the source of Rodney's four years of misery. He didn't know what he'd expected in regard to that, really. He'd felt like their friendship had been rejected, but maybe Rodney just couldn't see him as that eight-year-old.

He was making his fourth loop of the science labs, counting down the minutes until he could drag Rodney off to lunch, when the doors to his friend's lab slid open and said friend was standing there with an annoyed look.

"Colonel, if you don't have anything useful to do then at least come in and bug me instead of going by my door every five minutes." he demanded, turning without
waiting for an answer and going back to his table.

John followed, pulling over a chair to the end of the lab table to sit. A printed piece of paper and a pencil were slapped down in front of him and he gave Rodney a questioning look.

"I've got a lot to do and I don't want you interrupting," Rodney explained,
pointing to the paper. "Find the mistakes. Quietly."

Now that sounded familiar. They'd done this, years ago when he was still a kid. Whenever Rodney had needed a day off from 'making sure John didn't foolishly break his neck' he would sit John at his desk and give him sheet after sheet of math problems. However hard they were usually told you how long Rodney wanted to be left alone.

Of course, after he'd told Rodney about the whole MENSA thing there had been a
solid five days where the scientist had all but chained him to the tables and made him do tests and proofs and anything else he had on hand. It had been fun, though he'd complained the whole time. He never told Rodney that to find out just how smart he was he only needed to ask.

"What?" John leaned back in his chair, fixing a rather pathetic look on his face. He couldn't let on that he enjoyed the little challenges Rodney gave him, after all. "We've got fifteen minutes, let's just head down to the mess early."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I just said that I'm busy and no one here apparently knows how to double-check their work," he explained. "Everyone else I usually make do this just gave me excuses and wouldn't come in. That leaves you."

"I wouldn't have come in either if I'd known you were going to make me do this." John grumbled, sitting down and picking up the pen.

"We can't let that intelligence of yours go to waste," the other man said cheerily, going over to his desk. "I'm sure plenty of people worked very hard to sharpen that mind when you were younger. You shouldn't disappoint them."

John looked up, but Rodney was already sitting, his back to him. Eyes narrowed, he leaned back in his seat. "Actually, I was mostly self-taught."

He watched Rodney's back straighten and there was a pause before he turned his chair slightly. "Really?" he asked, voice caught in that higher pitch he got when he was unsure or put offguard. "You were?"

"Uh-huh. The school gave me tutors but they were useless," he nodded. "They didn't understand my brilliance."

"School tutors *are* useless," Rodney said with a snort. "It's a wonder you're at the level you are now."

"Like I said, self-taught," John drawled, slowly turning back to his paper. He could feel Rodney's gaze boring into him. "Mostly."

===

"All right," Rodney said suddenly on their first mission after the incident. Ronon and Teyla were walking ahead of them, probably not out of earshot, but far enough it felt like just the two of them. "Do you still want to know what happened to me?"

John looked over, eyes wide with surprise. "Yes." he blurted before the scientist could change his mind.

The other man nodded, a grave expression on his face. When he spoke it was slow, as though he was considering how he worded it. "I was transported away and stuck in a time-dilation field for four years. I found myself trapped in a small community with people that thought my sudden appearance meant that I was their savior from a terrorizing enemy. I was treated as an honored guest and was seduced by their leader, a very pretty blond with a hidden agenda to keep me as her love slave forever. However, I defeated their enemy, saved them all, and while it *pained* me to leave her there I knew I still had my duty to Atlantis, whatever had become of it. And the whole love slave thing was just a little creepy."

John stopped walking halfway through and Rodney was already a few paces ahead by the time he was finished. The other man stopped as well and turned, a slight smile on his face. "No, wait, that was you, wasn't it?"

"Damn it, McKay!" he yelled, hurrying to catch up as Rodney had started moving again. The scientist had a self-satisfied grin on his face and was humming to himself. "Fine, right, you got me. Good job, though you really suck at storytelling. She was a brunette and it was six months."

"I have it on good authority that I'm an excellent storyteller, Colonel, and I note you didn't object to the bit about the love slave," Rodney replied. "Remind me, just how long did it take for you to actually tell me everything that happened to you in there?"

"A month." John muttered, bumping Rodney's shoulder lightly as he drew even with him.

Rodney bumped back. "Yes, and that was only because I got you drunk."

"So I have to get you drunk."

"No," the scientist said slowly. "Remember, you were very angry after you woke up."

"I wait, then."

"You wait. I will tell you, someday," Rodney promised, serious now. "There are just some...slight issues I need to work through first."

John nodded, not liking how that sounded. "All right. I'll be good."

He wasn't a patient person, but when he thought about it he *did* wait thirty years to find Rodney. He could wait a little longer for his sake. Not too long, though.

end

Notes2: Um, it wouldn't move after this. At all. I have another couple of pieces in my notebook that I may bring up as drabbles to seriously wrap this up, and I wanted to explain the scrapheap device that did this in more detail. So we'll see how that goes. I'm sorry Rodney was so stubborn, he never makes things easy for me.

Next: Here

Fic: One Hell of A Coincidence (PG)

2007-02-03T02:32:55Z

Title: One Hell of A Coincidence
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: It's a sequel, and we all know how those are.
Spoilers: Some of the text is from Rising! But it's Pre-Atlantis.
Notes: I wanted to keep this short, otherwise I'd be going novel on you lot and it'd never get done. There might be another, because seriously, Rodney should know. It's not fair if Rodney doesn't know. So yes, by popular demand, before I play the chicken shit and click 'x'.

===

Major John Sheppard hadn't thought of Rodney in years. The last time had been when his mother had told him that his cat had died and that had been a good decade ago at least. His mother had written him a letter since phone calls weren't an option ("you'd begged and begged for that cat, remember? So your Rodney wouldn't be lonely.") and it had pulled forward a lot of memories he'd have happily kept forgotten.

It wasn't that he'd come to hate Rodney for leaving him, not seriously, anyway. When you lost your best friend after having them be the center of your universe for a good four years it left a hole, and John couldn't bring himself to even try filling that void with anyone else. He'd made friends, lots of friends, exercising quantity over quality, and it had helped. A little. And math just wasn't fun without Rodney there mocking his teachers and his classmates, or explaining a problem to him when he would hit a snag. He'd gone through a rebellious period during seventh grade, deliberately failing the class, until he'd had a lovely little meeting with his parents and his guidance councilor.

If he kept this up, if he didn't pull himself together, he would never be able to fly, they'd said. That had been enough, because the small part of him John kept hidden still believed he'd be out there one day fighting aliens and saving galaxies. Rodney had promised, after all, and Rodney had never broken a promise to him before.

Rodney had told him to do two things and he had told his mother the first one. He'd accomplished that one with an eagerness that no one aside from his parents could explain, not that they would dare.

First, ah, learn how to fly, yes.

But people can't fly.

Did I say go jump off of a building? No. I meant aircraft. The Air Force is really good with that sort of thing, they'll teach you everything you need to know and I can't believe I'm condemning you to the military. Oh, the academic community could learn so much from you, it's not fa--

Rodney.

Sorry, sorry. Anyway, yes, learn to fly and then...and then...visit every continent. I'm pretty sure that's what...Once you've done that you can come to Atlantis with me, all right? But you have to be good. All right?

All right.

No developing death wishes or chasing after strange women. Ever. Do you hear me?

I'm not the Colonel, Rodney. I wont.

Rodney had given a choked little laugh and John had clung to him. He hadn't let Rodney pull away; his fingers had had to be pried off one by one as his best friend babbled apologies and promises in his ear. Then he'd been gone and John felt the beginnings of a frayed little hole inside him that only got bigger in time.

===

He hadn't thought about Rodney again until he was scheduled to fly one General O'Neill to a little top secret base outside of McMurdo.

A drone. his memory supplied as he stared at the weapon lying dormant on the snow. Controlled by gene-carriers to take down Darts and Hive ships.

It looked just like Rodney had described it (a sort of...squid..looking...thing. Little black tentacles trailing behind it. Kind of ridiculous-looking when not activated but when they are...) and a wary thrill ran through him. He took O'Neill the rest of the way to the base and was trying to think of a way to be allowed inside when the General turned and simply motioned for him to follow.

Into the dome, down the elevator, and once he stepped out he had to restrain himself from looking too wide-eyed with wonder. People were milling about with strange devices and there were layouts on every computer monitor. Things he'd never seen before and shouldn't be familiar but somehow were.

"Don't touch anything." the General told him before leaving him on his own.

"Yes, sir." John replied, and for a moment stood still so as not to even breathe on anything before curiosity got the better of him.

The Scot that had accidentally shot the drone at him had apologized and seemed surprised that John apparently had no idea about any of this, yet here he was with the security clearance dropped into his lap. Drones and Ancients and the Stargate. There was no way it could be a coincidence. It was real, all of it, and excitement and triumph warred over the small sense of apprehension, the lingering doubt still inside him. It was real and here and he wasn't just some lonely kid that had lived in his own imagination because the other children hadn't liked him. The man started explaining the technology to him and John tried to look as though he didn't already know all of this. He probably knew more, really.

In the end, it was all too tempting to sit in the chair. "What are the odds of me having the same genes as these guys?" he asked, shrugging off the Scot's concerns and trying to keep the anticipation out of his voice as he lowered himself into the chair. It lit up instantly and he was tipped back and then the Scot was running and there were people all around him.

"Who is this?" a woman's voice demanded, but he couldn't see her because there was General O'Neill standing over him with a long-suffering look on his face, like he was used to people touching things after specifically being told not to.

"I said don't touch anything." he exclaimed, hands going out from his sides in exasperation.

"I-I just sat down." John explained quickly, trying to contain his excitement. He had the gene. The gene!

"Major," he turned his eyes toward the voice and stared at the man staring back at him intensely. The gaze seemed to bore right through John and felt so familiar it made his skin itch to figure out why. "Think about where we are in the solar system."

John gave a small frown, trying to place the new familiarity at the same time as doing as the man told him. He looked up and there it all was, laid out like a map and he had done that, which was so unexpected that he had to ask to make sure. He had the gene, which meant he was going to go to Atlantis and fly the Puddlejumpers and save the galaxy.

The man ran around the chair, checking consoles and asking for a few more light displays above their heads before he was allowed up. "Thank you, Major," he said without looking up, a small smile on his face. "You have no idea how hard it's been to make this work. Just getting people into the chair has been a chore. This has given us such an advantage."

He was rambling by the end, not even really speaking to John anymore, just caught up in the thrill of discovery. John was practically vibrating out of his boots with excitement as well.

"That's great," John replied, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "Do you, ah, know a guy around here named Rodney by any chance?"

"Hmm? What?" the man looked up, distracted.

"Rodney. He should be here, or have been here. It's been a while, I don't know."

The man was giving him that look again, considering him quietly for a long, uncomfortable moment before speaking. "The only Rodney here is a Dr. Rodney McKay, and that would be me." he stated, pointing to himself.

John started in disbelief. This was Rodney? No, there was no way. His Rodney had to be somewhere in his late fifties by now. He remembered celebrating his birthday after the second year when he'd realized his friend had never volunteered the information. How old had he been? "I must be mistaken," he said, and forced a laugh. "The guy I'm looking for would be older. A lot older."

Dr. McKay didn't seem convinced but must have decided one crazy Major was of slight importance compared to his new discoveries. "Yes, well, nice to meet you. Very grateful. Would love to chat, but I've got a lot of work to do with all this information you've given us."

Then he was gone and John was left standing by the chair, wondering what the hell was going on.

===

"This isn't about you, Sheppard. It's a lot bigger than that."

All his excuses about stupefaction by alien technology seemed a lot better than 'I just learned all my childhood fantasy stories are true and I think my imaginary best friend is real and hasn't aged a day in over twenty years.' He couldn't stop his selfish retort; anything to stop the loop his mind had gotten stuck in. Then Dr. Weir, Elizabeth, had informed him that this was an expedition to find Atlantis. They hadn't even been there yet, which was confusing because she had been in the stories, as had the Scot he learned to be Dr. Carson Beckett. It also meant his Rodney wasn't there waiting for him.

"Why'd you become a pilot?" the General asked once he started up the helicopter.

The trained answer fell from his lips without a thought, something even he had come to believe and accepted as a least a third of his reason. "I think people who don't wanna fly are crazy."

"And I think people who don't wanna go through the Stargate are equally as wacked." O'Neill shot back.

I do, John thought. I really do, but this makes no sense. This isn't anything like I imagined it to be.

"Now," O'Neill told him. "If you can't give me a yes by the time we reach McMurdo? I don't even want you."

The ultimatum only added to the heavy ball in his stomach. It wasn't excitement or anticipation anymore, but a sense of disappointment and a little anger. For the entire flight back it ran through his mind and when O'Neill stepped out of the chopper and looked back at him, he nodded. If he didn't go, he would be left behind in this galaxy without any answers and that just wasn't acceptable.

===

Heads, he was completely insane with amazing precognitive powers.

Tails, his Rodney was a lying bastard.

Tails. He flipped it again.

Heads, he called Dr. Weir and made some excuse and just be a total chicken shit.

Tails, he just went and figured it all out along the way.

Tails. Great. He flipped it again.

Heads, this Rodney was really an alien or had discovered the fountain of youth because he hadn't even looked that young when he'd first met him.

Tails, his parents really should have sent him to that psychiatrist.

Tails. Well, not anything he didn't already know.

Heads, he got drunk and told Dr. McKay everything.

Tails, he got drunk alone because there probably wasn't going to be a lot of alcohol in the Pegasus galaxy.

Tails again. All right then, how about...

Heads, he stuck close to Dr. McKay and tried to see if there were any similarities between this stranger and the friend who'd had to leave him behind.

Tails, he stayed away and played the good little soldier.

Heads. Of course.

Apparently he was insane, going to another galaxy, considering psychiatric help, and was going to have one last drinking binge while the hangover still had time to wear off.

And Dr. Rodney McKay was about to be spending a whole lot of time with Major John Sheppard.

===

He'd written a letter to his parents; the first time he'd made an effort to contact them since his black mark incident. They hadn't written to him either, so he gave himself points for being the first to break. It had been brief and to the point: a classified mission, not knowing when he'd be back. It was a little disturbing just how often he'd composed letters like this. At the end, though, under his usual "love, John" he added a post script. A bit of luck for himself.

Rodney says hi.

===

It was disturbingly easy to get into Dr. McKay's good graces, though John figured that had something to do with his having the Ancient gene and always hanging around the labs at the SGC in the final days before they left. He'd held so many devices in his hands he kept thinking 'on' even after he left for the day.

In the last couple of weeks while everyone else was running about getting things ready, John found out that a lot of people didn't like Dr. McKay. Really didn't like him. He was rude, self-centered, and couldn't remember names so when he wanted your attention you either got a generic label or impatient finger-snapping. He insulted his assistants' intelligence and regularly made people flee from the room in tears.

John was the only one who could sit in a room with the man for more than four hours and not want to kill him, cry, or get into a shouting match with him that would have ended in him crying anyway. No one could understand why and he'd had people ask him if he was a robot. Others told him that he didn't have to be nice to McKay to go on the mission. In reply he just grinned and shrugged it off, not wanting to explain that he was used to that sort of behavior (and all right, his Rodney had only made him cry once but he'd been really freaked out afterward and snuck downstairs that night to get him ice cream. He'd gotten an upset stomach and been grounded for the weekend, but the ice cream had been really good.). Even more so he didn't want to explain that he found it comforting, in an odd way, to listen to McKay rant to himself as he worked.

There was a list on the back of a folded up receipt (from the liquor store he'd gotten drunk at before) that he kept tucked into the elastic of his sock. Every time McKay did something that reminded him of Rodney he wrote it down and would later look at it and decide if it was a legitimate reason or just wishful thinking. Right now it was mostly just his behavior and John wished he could remember more about how Rodney looked back then. 'Piercing blue gaze' sounded way too cheesy and he was already going to shoot himself if anyone found it.

His first concrete evidence had been to learn that McKay had two PhDs. He hadn't known what they were back then (They mean that I'm really smart and you have to listen to what I say.) but he remembered Rodney'd had them and McKay certainly wouldn't let you forget.

What really started convincing him was the day McKay had decided to send him down to the mess to get him a snack because he'd run out of power bars. The man ate them constantly and John had considered his supply endless before then.

"Why don't you just send one of your assistants?" John made the near-fatal mistake of asking. "Didn't you just have one a couple hours ago?"

"Oh, yes, why don't I just lie down and die right here because you were too lazy to go down to the mess," McKay had sneered at him, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "Then you can explain to General O'Neill and Dr. Weir why their chief scientist had a hypoglycemic reaction."

"You're.." he had trailed off, a finger lifting before dropping back to his side. "All right." He had nodded thoughtfully and left without further protest, his mind taking this new discovery and trying to fit it into place with everything else. Really, he'd just thought McKay liked to eat.

By the time he got to the mess it was nearly lunch time so he opted for getting two full meals for them instead of simply raiding whatever desserts there were. He scanned the selection, not wanting to jump ahead of himself but still feeling it would be better to be cautious.

"Is there any citrus in that?" he asked, earning a rather annoyed glare from the cook.

"No."

John's eyebrows went up but he gave a nod, deciding to get the beef for both of them. He made a quick pit stop at one of the tables to fill two glasses with water and take them with him. It was a chore getting back to the lab while juggling two trays and he got a lot of sympathetic looks from the people he passed which John thought was a little over the top. He felt a lot more embarrassed carrying a tray full of Jell-O, pudding, and cheesecake than he did two trays with full meals.

"It's about time. What took you so long?" McKay griped as John maneuvered his way over to the lab table.

"Food." he replied, bending at the knees a bit so he could slide McKay's tray in onto the tabletop.

McKay jerked his head up, looking over. "What? No, no no no, I did not say a full meal. I specifically instructed you to get nothing but two pieces of cheesecake and a bowl of chocolate pudding. I can't eat this, I have no idea--"

"There's no citrus in it," he interrupted, hazarding a guess. "I asked."

That stopped McKay and he got up, striding over to the table and making a production of inspecting the food. "You asked?"

"Guy said there wasn't."

"Hmm," the scientist picked up a fork and poked at the mass of beef tips. "I've had this before, but the kitchen staff hates me. I wouldn't put it past them to spike everything with lemon juice just to spite me."

That explained the pissy cook. John frowned. "Wouldn't that be attempted murder?"

"They really hate me." McKay emphasized.

McKay was still glaring at the tray, so John picked up his fork and took a bite of his own food. He liked to still think he could detect the sharpness of the lemon juice McKay was rightfully paranoid about. "I don't taste anything."

"If you'd only just done what I told you," he grumbled, stabbing some of the food onto his fork. "I've got an EpiPen in the inside pocket of my jacket. I'm assuming you know what asphyxiation looks like, Major?"

"I doubt you'll die quietly," John quipped, keeping half an eye on McKay while eating his own lunch. "I've read up on it, and the medics are only a few floors away. I know how to use the phone too, by the way."

McKay snorted, turning the glare to him. "Cute, very." But he lifted the fork to his mouth and ate, and after a few cautious moments started to dig in.

"Maybe if you'd eat actual meals instead of eating those crappy power bars all the time you wouldn't keep getting headaches."

"Read up on that as well, have you?" he said, suspicion marring the unimpressed air he was trying to create.

John shrugged, chewing on his food.

"Did someone tell you about the citrus?" McKay asked next.

"You did." John replied honestly.

"I did?"

"Yeah," he ducked his head, shoving more food into his mouth to hide his smile. "A while ago."

"Oh," McKay let the subject drop, turning back to his meal. "Huh."

end

Fic: Not Your Average Imaginary Friend (G)

2007-02-03T02:29:05Z

Title: Not Your Average Imaginary Friend
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: G
Warnings: Um, crackish? And I suppose it would be labeled "kid!fic."
Spoilers: A few specific ones for McKay, but nothing past the first season. Just sort of your basic knowledge.
Notes: I read a drabble about a John Sheppard that preferred to play by himself when he was younger, not caring that all the other kids thought he was a total freak. Then I skimmed the comments, because seeing what others have to say is interesting, and someone mentioned likening John to Calvin and having Rodney as "Hobbes." This is not exactly like that, or even close, though the image of Rodney hanging upside down from a tree for going after a tuna fish sandwhich is probably the best thing I've seen all day. This was supposed to be just a summary for the fic I was really writing, but it ran away and grew into a fic all its own.
Note 2: This can be taken two ways and you'll see why by the end. I don't have either way as a definite in my head though.

---

When her son had come home from kindergarten one day and introduced her to someone who wasn't there, Marianne had simply taken it that he was just creative, if a little lonely. Children often made up imaginary friends and she couldn't blame John for wanting a little stability in the midst of their frequent moves.

As time passed she learned that her son's imaginary friend wasn't like other imaginary friends.

"But MOM!" John had screamed after she had to forcibly drag him away from the sink where he was shoving her lemon cookies one by one down the garbage disposal. "Rodney is DEATHLY ALLERGIC to citrus! He could DIE!"

Then John had started hoarding candy in his room. He spent all his allowance on chocolate but she never saw him eat a single piece. She found the wrappers under his mattress and confronted him about it.

"Rodney is hypoglycemic," he had explained, pronouncing each syllable slowly and carefully and with amazing accuracy for a five-year-old. "If he doesn't eat, his blood sugar drops and he gets cranky and passes out. It's a very serious condition."

And then, though how he knew this stuff she had no clue, he started listing all the symptoms, in occurring order. His voice rose in places like he was reciting it from memory and she had to wonder what they were teaching him in that school.

Then there had been when he started doing his homework in his bedroom, stating that "Rodney would help him" because apparently Rodney was a genius. One day in first grade his principal had called and said that John had stolen a fifth grader's math book. When caught he had ranted for ten minutes about how his genius was being wasted on the current work and his mind was going to become stagnant.

He'd been grounded for a month for stealing, but the school had given him workbooks and a tutor out of self-preservation.

John asked for a cat every birthday and Christmas, and probably every day in between. They finally allowed him to have one on his eighth birthday and both she and her husband had figured for the feline to become their responsibility after John grew tired of the novelty of having a pet. Instead, he was extremely attentive and tended to spoil her, constantly begging for new toys and never complaining about litter boxes. "Rodney was getting lonely while I was at school," he told her. "He doesn't come with me anymore. He says it's better for my social development, even if I am smarter than everyone there. Plus the teachers gave him headaches."

She had taken that as a sign, though a very small one, that John was slowly giving up Rodney and starting to make his own way in life instead of listening to his imaginary friend.

And then she had found the notes for a science fair project she was very glad he'd never had the chance to implement. She didn't care that 'Rodney' had done it when he was in sixth grade.

Finally, in fifth grade, just when they were starting to worry (and neither of them would ever utter the word psychiatrist), she found John sitting outside on the porch with the cat in his lap. John never let the cat outside, but there she sat, surprisingly docile. She would even say subdued, if Marianne thought a cat could look subdued.

"Rodney had to leave," he told her, not looking up. He was staring up slightly, eyes fixed on some distant point in the night sky. "He said he had an important job to do back where he came from and everyone else was hopeless, so he had to go make sure they didn't all get themselves killed."

A sense of relief flooded through her, followed by a crash of guilt. "I'm sorry, honey." she told him sincerely, going to sit next to him.

"It's all right, he promised I can go with him when I'm older." John said with a shrug.

She shouldn't ask, she knew she shouldn't ask, but 'Rodney' had been full of twists and turns and just when you thought you'd gotten the pattern down he threw you for a loop. "How are you going to do that?"

He smiled then, and turned to look at her, a glint of determination in his eyes. "I have to learn to fly."

end

Next One Hell of A Coincidence

Organization, yay!

2007-02-03T02:10:25Z

Table of Contents

Fruits Basket

Stand Alones

So Much For My Happy Ending: (incomplete) Kyou loses his bet and must survive the consequences.

Drabbles

Left Behind: An older Hiro's thoughts during his New Year's dance.

Until The End: Gure and Aya hear about Kana. Set to a short poem.

So Serious: Shigure and Ayame try to crack the ever-present mask of their best friend. (No one has understood the last joke, if you do I'll be amazed.)

Born to Shimmer: It's Halloween and Ritsu dresses up with the help of Kagura.

Desperate Measures: Akito must do something drastic to keep her hold on her Zodiac.

Series

Lease To Live: The timeline jumps about a bunch and focuses on different characters, but it's all concerning the same group of Juunishi.

Lease to Live: (incomplete) The life of the Cat before Kyou.

No Tomorrow: A moment in the life of Kazuma's grandfather, the cat's, life through the eyes of the rat.

As I Reach the Break of Day: Kazuma's grandfather, the cat's, view on all that's happening.

I Feel So Alive: Why the Cat lived for so long while locked away.

Nothing Is Impossible: The Head is fascinated by the curse on the Cat and the Rat.

Island Of Hope: The Snake and Dragon are always meant to be together.

Namesake: The story of the next Head of the Sohma family.

Namesake: Years after his confinement, Kyou gets an interesting visitor.

Exalted: (Prequal to Namesake, but read it first.) The Juunishi Dream, and go to visit their old God and new.

Bequeathed: One night before bedtime, Akito tells her son the story of how he got his name.

Stargate: Atlantis

Stand Alones:

The Minutes Are Free After Seven : John and Rodney meet and start dating. Told through phone calls to their mutual friend, Teyla.

MENSA!verse: I love my canon AUs so, so much. Not all of these are related, because why limit yourself to one possibility? Any connections will be stated as such.

A Matter of Respect "We've sparred eight times in the last week and every time I'm either on my knees or on my back with those sticks at my throat. This shouldn't be happening. She's *playing* with me." MENSA!Teyla

Blameless "With the correct information, you can make it work. As long as you've got the right data, of course you can make it work." MENSA!Sheppard and MENSA!Rod

No Excuse For Ignorance It wasn't the type of thing that started a friendship, especially after the grilling Sumner put them through once they got back. MENSA!Ford

Obvious Answers "We do not tackle our patients, Campbell!" MENSA!Chuck, MENSA!Zelenka, and others.

Before I Sleep (Mensa-verse) She looked like she'd been laid out for her funeral. MENSA!Sheppard, MENSA!Rod, MENSA!Weir

The Break Room Incident "We've bonded, you see." MENSA!Sheppard, MENSA!Rod

Space Cowboys "I was just being nice." "I told you to stop that." MENSA!Sheppard and Team.

Series:

Not So Imaginary: According to Josh Billings, there are lots of people who mistake their imagination for their memory. John Sheppard wasn't one of them.

This is split into two arcs. The first, consisting of four stories, is gen, and may be read without any concern for the following. The second, consisting of the rest, is written purely for self-indulgence and includes the pairing McKay/Sheppard.

The first arc:

Not Your Average Imaginary Friend

One Hell of A Coincidence

Not Quite on the Same Page

Here

The second arc:

Boundaries: Sleeping

Shoebox

Untitled (or the time John wanted to make a decision but Rodney beat him to it weeks ago)

To Rodney, Love John

Weird As It Isn't

Guardian: In which Sheppard, Teyla, and McKay are kidified and Ronon finds himself their primary caregiver.

Guardian

Bedtime

Mistakes

[Drabble] Determination

2006-03-14T13:08:51Z

Title: Determination
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Akito, Kureno, Momiji, Hiro
Warnings: Spoilers for most recent chapters.

Akito was banishing Kureno, Momiji, and Hiro. Somehow they had broken the curse and Akito had screamed that they were no longer Souma.

Kureno had left before the day was out, wearing a small, nervous smile.

Momiji was looking for an apartment with Hatori's help. He was scared and excited, unable to sit down for a moment and had dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights.

Hiro's family was moving. He had gone to see Kisa, head high and back straight. "I will come back." he promised, determination burning in the emptiness the curse had left in his eyes.

[Drabble] Failure, PG

2006-03-14T13:05:25Z

Title: Failure
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Akito, Kureno, Momiji, Hiro
Warnings: Spoilers for most recent chapters.

A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms against himself. He makes his failure certain by himself being the first person to be convinced of it.
Ambrose Bierce

"This is your fault."

It was all she could do not to hurt them.

"The bond rejected you."

She wanted to claw the pity out of their eyes.

"I rejected you."

She had no power over them now, head of the family wielded little in comparison, but she would manage.

"You are no longer Souma."

She'd lost three Juunishi.

"You are no longer permitted on any Souma property."

She'd heard the maids' whispers.

"There will be no contact between you and the Juunishi."

Hiro tensed. She sneered at the weakness.

"Get out!"

She turned as her failures left the room.

Title: Just A Man

2005-09-25T13:26:52Z

Title: Just A Man
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: G
Characters: Ritsu and Kureno
Spoilers: This is based on the image that came with chapter 110, quite a while ago. There are spoilers for up to chapter 97, in case there is some poor soul that was somehow missed by all the idiots with their OMG!!1! posts and spoilerific icons. Hard to believe it wasn't even ten chapters ago.
Ah, this is somewhat of a stream of thought from Kureno's point of view. I stayed up until nine writing this and I'm going to post it as is (I did spell-check and tried to proof-read, but I can never proof-read my own stuff). Any spelling or grammar errors you catch, tell me? It's always appreciated.

Just A Man

I wish you wouldn't look so sad. This is supposed to be a celebration. It's our dance. Hers, really, but I can't think about her right now.

You look beautiful. The robes Ayame made for you cling to your body in a way that displays both the man you are and the woman you pretend to be. The ribbons in your hair sway as you move, wrapping around me when I move closer.

Your hands are on my chest as we spin around the room, keeping a distance between us. The ribbons betray your feelings, gently touching my arms, shoulders, then my face as I lean in. Did Ayame use a perfume on you? Still, I can smell your nervous sweat underneath. There's no need, you're dancing wonderfully.

Your eyes close as I rest my head against your hair. I know, I'm sorry. I wont touch you, but just please let me have this. It'll be another twelve years before we can do this again and I don't think we'll survive that long.

Can you feel it? The hole where I used to be? Has it been growing for years like mine has, missing the comforting presence of our cursed companions? Of all of them, I miss yours the most.

I feel like a ghost next to you. I can't feel your pain the way I used to or share with you the comfort that we're not alone. I'm just a man now, and I am alone. I see your suffering and I pity you as the other non-cursed Souma do. Detached. Distant.

Men don't have a bond that connects them, that keeps them together. They are alone from birth to death. They cling to the fragile strings of acquaintances and friends and what they call family until the loneliness kills them.

I don't want to die alone.

Your steps falter just a bit and my hand touches your hip to keep you steady. If you fall Akito will hurt you.

Your hands press against my chest insistently, a move I'm sure wont go unnoticed by our audience. I drop my hand and you still wont open your eyes. When we were children I could excuse it as nervousness and you trying to remember your steps.

The first time we danced you were just a toddler. I was a silly child, wanting nothing more than to be sitting with my older cousins, eating and playing games. The music was very loud and you started to wail about halfway through. Akira had warned me that it would be bad luck for the dance to go unfinished so I just held you and spun around the room awkwardly. I was so afraid I'd drop you.

It felt like an eternity before Ayame came and took you from me, allowing me to finish my part of the dance. He played with your fingers, whispering something in your ear that helped calm you down. You both watched me and I remember you reaching out, trying to grab my robes as I passed.

The second time...I wasn't cursed. I was absolutely terrified of dancing. Pretending to be something you're not day to day is easy, but I feared bad luck would fall upon us if I danced. Akito, of course, would have none of it. If I didn't dance then everyone would know, but perhaps that exposed me more than running away ever could have.

My steps were stiff, unconfident. Not very becoming of the Rooster of the zodiac. It didn't help that halfway through you looked up at me. You were confused to start with, wondering why I had been ignoring everyone. I had even ignored your pleas to come out and play, because it was such a beautiful day and we could climb trees to be close to the sky.

Together now, closer than I had been to anyone but Akito in the last few years, I wanted to run away. It felt like you knew that I was wrong. Akito called me inferior every day, but it wasn't until we danced that I felt it. I was a normal man, and you were something higher. Whatever it was entranced and repelled me at the same time. You were the most beautiful and the most horrifying thing I had ever laid eyes on.

My eyes....was that what made you cry then? She told me often that I had distant eyes. It must have been true, because you looked right at me and through me and started to cry. You started to trip over your robes and soon your sobs drowned out the music. I tried to help you, but I think I only made it worse.

In the end, you ran out of the room. My feet stopped for the briefest of moments before Akito demanded I continue. I wanted to go after you, I truly did. I wanted to explain, even apologize. Her gaze pinned me as thought she could read my mind, and maybe she could; men were God's objects as well, after all.

She left as soon as I was finished. I assume she went after you, because of the smirk on her face when she returned. You didn't. I didn't see you at all for the rest of the celebration nor any of the days that followed. You and your parents had moved to one of the family onsen, presumably for the aid of your ailing mother.

This is the first time I've been close to you since then. Akito keeps me close at every banquet and your fragile nature keeps you from braving her to talk to me. At least that's what I tell myself every year.

Perhaps you are disgusted by me, a mere man that parades in his costume of feathers and intrudes upon the circle he has no place in.

Still...some part of me clings to the fact that your fingers are digging into the material on my chest, that you haven't moved away from where our heads touch, that you aren't running from me but clinging.

As we move, Akito enters my line of sight. She's glaring, and I realize that you've missed your cue. I bring my hands to your hips, cherishing the contact before I gently push you away.

Your eyes open, unfocused for a second before you come back to yourself. What were you thinking? I think I can see it in your eyes as you glance up at me without thinking, but then you look off at the walls, the floor, anywhere but me. Your hair ribbons brush at my face one last time as we spin, then you back away.

You give a few graceless twirls until you end up at the far end of the room. I can see your eyes shining but no tears stain your cheeks. You're so much stronger than I could ever hope to be.

It's hard finishing my dance without you. Everyone is watching me and I stare vacantly at the walls as I go through the motions, waiting for the music to fade. It does, finally, and I make my way to Akito. Had I been turned the other way I just may have gone to you.