Geeks and Goons

PG 13 for naughty language

Gen

Spoilers for this and that…specifically Before I Sleep and the utter crapfest that was Sanctuary (excepting the Captain Kirk remarks. I deem those good.)

Follow-up to Scientist, Wraith Killer, Space Pilot; Double O Geek, and Geek Protocol.

Rodney McKay was one annoying son of a bitch.

I don’t mean regular annoying. We’re not talking along the lines of someone cutting you off in traffic or taking the last fudgsicle you had your eye on all day. We’re not even talking, say, a super Wraith who stole your ship, kicked your ass, and flatly refused to die. That was irritating. It would put a crimp in your day. McKay…McKay was annoying. Catastrophically annoying. Apocalyptically annoying.

The man pissed me off. Yeah, that’s right. Pissed me the fuck off.

“Arrogant son of a bitch.” I cursed and spat water, towing my burden behind me. “Cocky asshole. Who knew a geek could be cocky? Especially a Canadian geek. Aren’t you supposed to be good-natured? Eat maple syrup on everything? Say ‘eh’ a lot? And, oh, do what the hell I tell you?” It struck me that I was babbling not unlike a certain annoying geek and I shut up.

Reaching the edge of the metal platform, I pushed the limp bundle up onto it and pulled myself up with muscles fatigued to the consistency of overcooked spaghetti. “Goddamn you, McKay,” I gritted. “Don’t you fucking do this to me.”

He was blue.

When I rolled him over, his face was the color of putty and his lips were blue. It made checking for respirations pretty pointless but I did it anyway when I checked his pulse. And when I felt nothing under my fingers as I pressed them into his neck, I felt my chest tighten and my own heart rate double. Okay. Fine. That’s the way it was going to be then. Grimly, I gave him four compressions over his diaphragm and water welled from his mouth. I then fastened my mouth over his and gave him two breaths before starting chest compressions.

“Try and get out of the shitfest you have coming, McKay,” I muttered, counting the compressions silently. “Just try.”

From day one, he’d pissed me off. Ignored me with an almost unconscious dismissal that I really didn’t take too personally. McKay was the focused type. If you weren’t the front and certain equation to be solved, you were simply white noise. But when my ATA gene had been revealed, that dismissal had turned to pure naked envy. Then I was hounded mercilessly to ‘think’ at things. Turn this on, turn that on. I had to lock the bathroom door for fear of McKay popping in waving some doodad…the Atlantean kind…and demanding I make it work.

Ah, hell, that came out so wrong.

Anyway, it was…as I’d said…annoying. But it was also…interesting. He kept me on my toes. You could say a lot of things about McKay, most of them profane, but he wasn’t boring. Loud, demanding, bossy as shit, positive that he was smarter than Einstein and moving in fast on God, and without a single iota of patience in that slightly pudgy body, yes…he was all that. But boring? No.

That had been months ago. Now he was leaner, but everything else was still the same. In a way it was comforting. The Pegasus galaxy was full of change, the majority of it bad, but McKay was a constant.

Yeah, he annoyed me. But he also challenged me, piqued my interest, backed me up, saved my life more than once, and made me laugh. More precisely, he made me snort Athosian goat milk out of my nose when he’d superglued Kavanaugh, Beckett, and Zelenka to their cafeteria chairs.

Goddamn, but that was funny.

The most annoying thing about Rodney by far though was…shit…that he didn’t annoy me. Not really.

Crazy, huh? Easy going Major Sheppard, everyone’s pal. Everyone’s optimistic man of the hour. Major Sheppard who hadn’t sent a letter home to Earth, not for himself. Major Sheppard who had lost nearly everyone he’d worked with over the years, but was so extroverted, cocky, and cheerful that he could keep people at arms-length and never be found out.

He made me like him, the son of a bitch. I put my mouth over his again. He weaseled his way under the breezy Sheppard exterior and engaged some actual real emotions. He was going to pay for it, too. And if I had to trot over to the Geek Afterlife and drag his smug ass back to accomplish that, then that’s what I would do.

“Come on, Rodney,” I murmured between breaths. “I’ll even let you fly again.”

“You grounded me?”

The question was chock full of righteous outrage, the kind only Dr. Rodney McKay could pull off. He sounded as if he were Mr. Top Gun himself. As if he flew a mission every day of his life and twice on Tuesdays. There we were-just me and a Russian MiG, pulling two Gs easy…when I had a sudden craving for a pudding cup….

I snorted, leaned back in the make-shift chair, and tossed the Nerf ball at the hoop rubber-suckered to the wall. He shoots, he scores. “Don’t take it so personally there, Tom Cruise. I grounded all your fellow geeks too. Zelenka was almost as disappointed as you.” I paused and considered. “A lot less little girl-whiny, but disappointed all the same.”

McKay scowled and scanned the room for a place to sit. I hadn’t wanted an office. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t need an office, but Dr. Weir did love her protocol. I was ranking military officer—never mind that it was courtesy of killing my superior—and I would keep an office. So I kept one…if you could find it. I changed its location every week. I went along with the theory if you couldn’t find me you couldn’t bitch at me. And it had worked pretty well…up until now.

This week it was the Atlantean version of a broom closet. My chair was a box packed with glass bottles full of a clear liquid that would knock your socks off with one whiff. I wasn’t the only one who believed in moving things about. I’d stumbled onto the fruits of one of Zelenka’s stills. He was a busy little Czech beaver. I thought about taking a bottle then decided to go with the whole seeing and conscious experience instead.

McKay glanced at the other boxes, narrowed his eyes and apparently decided to stand. Arms folded, he tapped an impatient foot. “You don’t have the right to confine the scientific community to Atlantis. And, despite megalomaniacal delusions to the contrary, you don’t have the power. As I’ve said on many, many occasions, we’re not military. Consequently, we’re not on your little choke chain, Major. We don’t do tricks, we don’t roll over, and we definitely don’t heel. So go ahead and spout all the autocratic crap you want. Go on, I dare you, because it’s not going to do you one bit of good.”

“Hey, Rodney,” I leaned forward and tossed the ball to him, “I hear through the grapevine that you’d like to discuss my decision.”

“You…I….” He tightened his lips then sighed and picked a box, sitting after all. “That would be good, Major. Discuss away. I’m interested to see how you explain leaving your best assets behind on missions.”

I watched as he palmed the ball, tossed it, and missed the hoop by a good six feet. Considering the closet was barely six feet wide, that was an accomplishment. Sighing myself, I leaned back against the wall and propped my feet up on another box. “Planet of the Genii clones,” I said. “Ring a bell?”

“Of course,” he replied instantly and with a good helping of smugness. “That’s where I saved your life, if I recall.”

Shaking my head, I pulled out my mental notebook, opened it up, and made a mark. We’d be breaking two hundred soon…two hundred in two months. It boggled the mind. “Yeah, McKay,” I rolled my eyes wearily, “that’s the one where you saved my life.”

“Not that I received any sort of award for it,” he continued with accusation. “But then again I suppose the military doesn’t share its commendations for unbelievable bravery under fire with civilians. Oh nooo, we wouldn’t want to do that, now would we? A lowly civilian? Perish the thought.”

“Hey, what are you saying? That my happy face and cheerful smile still being in your life isn’t reward enough?” I asked with mock hurt. “You wound me, McKay. More than you’ll ever know.” Before he could respond and quite possibly drive me to one of Zelenka’s bottles, I went on. “Ever think about what would’ve happened if things had turned out differently?”

He furrowed his high brow, which I suspected was, to his dismay, getting higher all the time. “What do you mean? If you’d d…if you hadn’t made it?” His jaw tightened with the words. The incident had left me with a nightmare or two and I was sure he had a few of his own.

“No, genius,” I drawled, “like you tell me every day…I’m military. Interchangeable. Replaceable. It’s like a vending machine. If I drop out of sight, someone will pop in the slot to replace me. ”

He contradicted instantly, “I don’t say that.” Then he frowned uneasily. “Do I say that? Really?”

“It’s all right, McKay. I realize your mouth has a passing relationship at best with your oversized brain.” I held up a hand before he could start again. “Like I was saying, did you ever stop to think what would’ve happened if you and Zelenka hadn’t come back? If our two best and brightest lab rats hadn’t made it? What that would mean for Atlantis?”

He hadn’t. I could see it immediately. Hadn’t given it a thought. “Well, it’s not as if…,” he fumbled before recovering slightly. “There’s still Kavanaugh, Araki, Yoshi and Benjamin.”

“Any of them as good as you or Dr. Z? And, yeah, I’m well aware of the opinion Kavanaugh has about his own brilliance, but I’m asking you, Rodney. Are any of them capable of keeping Atlantis up and running for as long as it takes? Will any of them find us a way home? Any of them come up with a way to defeat the Wraith?” I retrieved the Nerf ball and bounced it idly off the wall, giving McKay a moment to reflect.

From the scowl on his face he wasn’t liking the path of said reflection. “Okay, fine. So Radek and I don’t go together on missions. That would work, and you need us out there, Major. If we hadn’t been there two months ago, you and Ford wouldn’t have found the power cells. You both would’ve died on that wretched planet.” I opened my mouth to reply and he cut me off, “And don’t give me that idiotic vending machine analogy again. You’re not a Twinkie, you’re not a bag of chips, and I don’t want to hear it, okay?”

Not a Twinkie, good to know. “Cameras,” I said succinctly. “You’ll see what we see in a live feed. It’ll be just like you’re there. The next best thing.”

He stood. “You’re not going to listen to reason, are you? You’ve made up what passes for your mind, and logic is just going to bounce right off the Sheppard force field of idiocy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m in-vul-nerable,” I quoted softly.

He threw up his hands and muttered, “Asshole.” He opened the door and looked back over his shoulder at me. “This isn’t over, Major. I’m going to Elizabeth. And if that doesn’t work, I think you’ll be amazed at how many…try all…of the jumpers develop mechanical difficulties. You’ve heard of Gremlins…they have nothing on a pissed off super-geek. You wait and see.”

You can’t slam a door on Atlantis, they just don’t work that way, but he gave it his best shot. Two seconds later the door opened again and he stuck his head back through. Biting his lip, he hesitated then said sincerely, “I’m sorry about the Twinkie thing. Really. You’re not replaceable, Major. Not in the slightest.”

“I know, McKay.” I quirked my lips. “After all…I’m a Twinkie with the ATA gene. You have to pay an extra quarter for that.”

“Why do I try? Why?” He glared and shut the door again. There was more after that, good old McKay ranting and raving, but it was muffled and moved away quickly. He was off to yell at Weir now, which should be interesting…considering I hadn’t yet told her I’d grounded Science.

Yep, it was going to be a hot time on the old town tonight.

It was how wars were started.

Weir had, albeit reluctantly, seen my point. She’d watched enough of us come back on stretchers or in bodybags. If she could safely limit that, she would at least give it a try. Sure, it was a very dubious, tentative try, but I jumped on it. Needless to say, McKay had issues with her train of thought. And he led his merry band right along with him.

Kavanaugh, who up until now had been downright pleased that he’d remained in the relative safety of Atlantis, suddenly became convinced that we were depriving him of a right as inalienable as life, liberty and the pursuit of a perpetual stick up his butt. Why? Because Rodney told him so. McKay convinced him that when I’d grounded the science staff that Kavanaugh had been the only name I’d mentioned specifically…as in ‘especially that damn Kavanaugh.’ The man could drill ice with that glare of his and somehow he nailed the last danish every goddamn morning. Of course, it wasn’t a real danish…more of an Athosian fruit roll, but I liked them, damn it. Yet every morning, I walked down the hall towards what we’d designated as the cafeteria and I would spot Kavanaugh at the door. Waiting. Like a beady-eyed vulture with a pony-tail. The moment he spotted me, his labcoat would flap like white wings and he’d pelt into the cafeteria. Once he’d heaped his plate with ten of the damn things to keep me from getting a single bite.

Zelenka…Zelenka tore down his stills. That didn’t much affect me or my men, who knew better than to be caught drinking that moonshine, but the scientists rioted in the halls. It was Rodney’s idea…had to be. Had to fucking be. Because did they blame Dr Z over it? No. Hell, no. They blamed me. The current theory was that I’d smashed them with a baseball bat in a Prohibition-style frenzy. And who was the big, hairy liar that passed around that rumor? Take a guess.

Even Ford, my right hand man, was in on it. One week of bottle-washing with the scientists and he was an honorary geek first-class. He ate lunch with them, DJed their parties, participated in a lab explosion or two, and was even dating a cute little molecular biologist. I do believe that geekette had made a man of him. But apparently that was all in the past tense. The military was bad mojo now and from the scowls and sullen silences Ford was sending my way, his geekette had cut him off.

And then there was the esteemed Dr. Rodney-fucking-McKay—he took it all to the next level. During breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he was there. During naps, he was there. During work-outs with Teyla, he was there. Activate this, Major. I need you in the lab, Major. It’s vital to the security of the entire friggin’ Pegasus galaxy, Major, that you turn on this Atlantean version of a toaster. The worst…and most traumatizing by far and away…was when an impatient hand parted the veil of rainbow colored light that passed as an Atlantis shower curtain. It impatiently shook some metallic thing with trailing cord and darkened lights. McKay’s voice dripped with sugary poison. “So very sorry to bother you, Major, but with all this free time on my hands I’m cataloguing the level A17 warehouse. I need you to switch this on.”

Damn, forget to lock that door one friggin’ time….

With the utmost control and care, I turned off the water, seized his wrist in an unyielding grip, and stuck my head through the curtain. McKay blinked innocently as my hair dripped water and bubbles slid off my chin. “Oh, were you busy? Cleaning up?” He sniffed and raised eyebrows. “Nice. Did Teyla lend you that soap? You smell very…um…pretty. Flowery.” He sneezed. “Did we contact some space bimbos today that I’m unaware of? I’m quite sure you’re looking forward to the picnics. Oh, and giving away my food…along with spilling state secrets, all the things that warm an alien woman’s heart.” He turned his wrist in the circle of my fingers and waved the device as best he could. “But first…a little science, if you please. After all, that is all I’m good for, right?”

“Fine.” My grip tightened and I bared my teeth. “It’s a Walkman, McKay. Circa 1990, you cheap-ass bastard. And it’s only function is providing Beckett with his first proctological challenge on Atlantis.” I released him and stepped out to grab a towel. “I call dibs on the commemorative T-shirt.”

He looked at the Walkman as if he’d never seen it before. “Well, so it is. My mistake.”

Hearing him admit to one was a knell of doom. If Rodney was willing to go that far…to admitting he wasn’t right one hundred percent of the time…I was doomed. There were no lengths he wouldn’t go to to make my life a living hell. Grimly, I scrubbed my hair with the towel then wrapped the terrycloth around my waist. “Keeping you in one piece, McKay, it’s a dirty job…a dirty, filthy, not-fit-for-man-nor-beast job…but it’s mine, okay? So cut me some slack.”

He tilted his head, considered it, and replied simply, “No.” He rocked on his heels. “No, I don’t think I will.” I’d noticed the rocking with McKay from the very beginning. The man burned…with intelligence, ego, stress, and it was always striving to get out. It made the majority of his movements quick and abrupt as a downhill plunge…it was as if he were in a constant race against time. Hell, with our luck he usually was.

“Christ.” I banged my head lightly against the mirror on the wall. “I’m just trying to protect my geeks, okay? Some people would consider that a good thing. ”

“Your geeks?” He rocked some more and I could all but hear the neurons in his brain humming.

“Yeah, Rodney,” I sighed, straightening. “Mine. Think anyone else is going to claim you and your motley crew?”

“Hmmmm.” Turning over the Walkman in his hand with uncharacteristic silence, his attention seemed far away. As I’d said…white noise. “Protect,” he echoed before smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Stupid, stupid.” And just like that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom. He was mumbling under his breath, but it was so fast and low I couldn’t catch a word of it. I wasn’t sure if I were disappointed or relieved that I didn’t know what was passing through his twisty brain. I settled on relieved and reached for the hair gel.

I’d barely finished dressing when he was back, this time with Dr. Beckett. I felt an automatic twitch of dread, but reassured myself quickly. So far, Beckett and his pointy needles had remained neutral in the war. When it came to choosing a Sheppard side or a McKay side, I doubted Carson had a preference…other than seeing us both go down in flames. He was a good guy, our doc, but we’d more than given him reason lately to hope with glee that we fell on our asses.

“What’s up, Doc?” I said cautiously.

McKay spoke first…of course. Was there ever any doubt? “There’s some tests Carson needs to run. Just some…oh….” He waved his hands about. “Scans, blood tests, horrifically invasive procedures, things of that nature.”

“I can speak for myself, Rodney,” Beckett said testily. “Come along, Major. It’ll take nae more than a few hours and you can be out annoying the scientific community quick as you please.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded before narrowing my eyes at McKay. “You’re behind this, aren’t you? What’d you do, brainwash him with some of your fast-talking bullshit?”

“I do not bullshit,” he sniffed. “All of my shit is quite genuine, thank you very much. As for brainwashing…funny you should use that word,” he replied with only the faintest hint of smugness. “And I have a word for you.” He folded his arms. “Hathor.”

“Hathor?” I repeated, confused.

“Yes, Hathor,” he said impatiently before sighing in disgust. “You never did your homework in school, did you?”

They filled me in. I wasn’t happy. But then again, I hadn’t been happy regarding a certain situation for a few weeks now. Beckett was right…the tests took about four hours and I was back to fighting the good fight. The results would take longer, and, truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the results.

Asshole or victim, it wasn’t much of a choice.

That night McKay showed up at my place for our weekly game…making like he hadn’t transformed my life into a living hell for the past three days. And I’d known that he would show. I already had the beer on the table. One bottle split between us, once a week, I’d be out of my smuggled supply in another month. Then God help me, I’d have to go dry or go Zelenka-Stoli. It was a helluva decision.

I gave him a jaundiced glare when he walked through the door. “My ass is a pincushion thanks to you.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” he smirked. “I was there, Major. All the needles went into your arm. You would know if you’d had your eyes open.” He dumped a cardboard box on the table. “Big baby.”

“You’re as sympathetic as a goat,” I muttered, pulling the box over and lifting the lid. Athosian fruit rolls…huh. A peace offering? I looked up at the smirk and changed my mind. He was moving on to other tactics now. Good astrophysicist/bad astrophysicist, and in true McKay form, he’d decided he was more than capable of taking on both roles.

Doomed. I was doomed.

“Oh right. Like you were lining up to wipe the drool off my chin when I was laid up with a Wraith bolt to the face. Paralyzed, I was paralyzed. You got a needle to the arm. Do you want me to explain the many differences? In detail? Nerve pathways…the whole nine yards? Carson can lend me an anatomy book.” Bright eyes mocked me. “Thanks to a certain fascist major, I have all the time in the world.”

“Play the game already, McKay,” I growled as I tipped the bottle between the two glasses. When it was empty, I waited patiently for the ritual measuring. Rodney picked both up, held them side by side, eyed them carefully, and put them back down, satisfied. Last week he’d resorted to a tiny pocket tape measure. I picked up my glass and touched it to his with a musical clink. “To the geeks,” I said.

“To the goons,” he said with a reluctant but equal respect and affection. He took a swallow then laid out the game. It was one of many Sheppard/McKay compromises since we’d hit the Pegasus galaxy. He wouldn’t play poker with me…accused me of counting cards, can you believe it? Where’s the trust, I ask you? He also wouldn’t play prime not prime. I think the fact I always won had something to do with it. And didn’t that eat him up alive?

I, on the other hand, wouldn’t play 3D chess. Yes, he had a set to go along with his Deanna Troi blow up doll. Can you believe it? And plain chess was out…eh, I just wasn’t feeling that. We’d settled on a game I’d ‘appropriated’ from Ford. Battleship. Of course, we renamed it Hiveship, but the basic principles were the same.

We were halfway into the game when he finally hit me. “So….” He offered me one of the fruit rolls with a cheerful, guileless smile. It was so out of place on that snarky mobile face that I blanched instantly.

“Jesus, Rodney, warn me before you do that,” I said, making the sign of the cross before shielding my eyes. “It’s unnatural. A sign of the apocalypse.”

He gave his more traditional scowl and snatched the roll back. Taking a bite himself, he chewed fast and talked around the mouthful. “I’m here to talk truce, you son of a bitch. I could have Kavanaugh over here in thirty seconds if that’s what you want. And Zelenka’s groupies. Assuming that they’re not in DTs.” He took another bite. “Thanks to you.” This grin was as far from guileless as you could get…and all McKay.

“You’re a heartless bastard,” I said darkly. “B 7.”

“Hit,” he grumped. “You’re cheating, aren’t you? I know it.” He peered under the table for any devices then behind him for mirrors. The man had a suspicious mind.

“No, you just suck tonight.” I reached over and managed to snatch a roll before his hand could slam down on mine. It tasted like a combination between blueberry and blackberry. When I finished, I absently wiped my fingers on the leg of my oldest sweats. One more thing I couldn’t part with when I left Earth. Dark green and splattered with gray paint, I’d had them ten years. I’d almost sooner have left the beer. Shifting in my seat, I exhaled, folded my arms, and finally mumbled. “Did I…ah…did I ever say I was sorry?”

Eyebrows climbing high, he commented triumphantly, “Well, well, I knew I’d bring you around. Radek said you’d hold out at least a week before you crumbled. But I said, nooo, I’d have you on your knees begging for forgiveness within three days.” He checked his watch and pointed at it gleefully. “With a few hours to spare.” Leaning back in his chair until it balanced on the back two legs, he locked his fingers over his stomach. “Now, I can be ready for the mission tomorrow, but you’ll have to move it from nine to ten. I want to read Teyla’s report on the planet before I go. And I’ll need some specialized equipment, maybe a….”

I cut him off. “Forget it, McKay. That’s not what I meant. You’re grounded. For good. Get used to it.”

The chair came down, hard and the mouth…the mouth…opened. I hastened on, “I meant after…Chaya. You were right.” I grimaced…giving him ammunition, what the hell was I thinking? “And I was wrong. So just tell me…did I say I was sorry or not, damn it?”

The mouth closed. Opened again and closed again. “Hmmm.” I was beginning to twitch whenever I heard that hmmmm. Tapping the fingers of both hands rapidly on the table, he took a moment then asked quickly, “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy, okay?” I said defensively. “And, no, I don’t remember. So did I or not?” It was fuzzy. I didn’t remember the trip back to Atlantis at all. I did have a vague image of some glowy sex thing that had turned me inside out and upside down, but after that…not much. It was the next morning before things sharpened back up. I’d put it down to the whole nookie with another species incident, but now…shit.

He stopped with the finger tapping. “Actually…you did. Why do you think I’m still speaking to you?” he snorted. Toying with a peg, he added, “You walked off the jumper. I asked if it was good for you too, and you said you were sorry. And that was that. But now I think…maybe….” He blew out a heavy aggrieved sigh. “I think I should say I’m sorry. Some of us actually read the SG-1 reports we were given to prepare us for alien contact. I knew about Hathor. Chaya’s no Goa’uld, but she is an Ancient that played fast and loose with the rules. She was banished, and we have only her word for why. And her word isn’t exactly Gospel in my book these days. She lied about who she was. Lied about her motives. Lied about everything. And while you do have a thing for space bimbos, you don’t usually spout military secrets at the drop of a hat.”

I rubbed a hand over my eyes and said flatly, “Or yell at you.”

“Oh, no. You yell at me all the time.” He took the last Athosian danish. “Sometimes I even deserve it. Not then, mind you, but sometimes. That should’ve made me think, too. And then for you to open up Atlantis and everyone on it to potential risk by blabbing about our shield…you, with your freakishly overprotective streak? That all but screams zombie sex-slave.” He shook his head and waved it all off. “Anyway, we’ll know soon enough if she pulled some Mata Hari hoo-doo on you when the tests come back. Until then, we’ll discuss more important matters…like getting us good guys back on the missions.”

“I suppose that makes me the bad guy.” I toyed with the empty beer bottle.

“Yes,” he replied promptly. “Definitely. Let me count the ways.”

But before he could, I got the call.

Section 1J. Goddamn but I hated Section 1J.

It was on the far side of the city. The geeks hadn’t gotten to it yet in terms of exploration and cataloguing, but we’d still paid it a few visits over the months. The alarm system had been one of the first things we’d gotten up and running after we’d walked through the gate and once every few weeks 1J lit up on the computer screen. All the bells and whistles. Alert, alert…imminent invasion.

That’s when we’d discovered the squarks. Picture a shark with a mouthful of squid and you’ve got a squark…hence the name. Of course, Ford had some options. He never learned. Octo-shark, sharkopus, the incredibly imaginative shark-squid…yeah. We went with squark, mainly because I enjoyed the roll of McKay’s eyes whenever he was forced to say it.

As a rule, the squark as a species weren’t too bright. Every month a few would beach themselves on the 1J ‘dock’. A smooth metal half circle that rested flush with the ocean waves, I had no idea what the platform was for, but when we opened up this part of the city I was packing my swim trunks. For sunbathing…once you’ve seen just one squark, your ass is staying well out of the water. This was my third trip in two months to shove one of the ugly and hopefully already dead bastards back in the water so the alarm could be reset.

“Maybe we should’ve asked Pyongg if he wanted another specimen to dissect.” McKay walked along beside me, now munching on a power bar. The man was a bottomless pit. “He loved the last one. Batter fried part of it and served it to Kavanaugh as calamari. He barfed for days. Days. That was the greatest week of my life.”

If Pyongg, our xenobiologist, wanted another sample, he could haul his ass forty-five minutes out to 1J and fetch back the mutated Flipper reject himself. I said so with a growl before adding curiously, “Why are you here, McKay? Last time you came along on squark patrol, you turned green, wet yourself, and ran.”

“I did not wet myself,” he shot back. “Well, not so much that you’d notice.”

I snorted as I caught the flash of teeth in the gloom of the hall. Someone was in a good mood. “Yeah, yeah. It was the ocean spray. Tell me another.”

There was a distinct and hard elbow to my ribs as he did just that. “Plus, I’m allergic to squid…I think. Pretty sure that I am. I was at this Japanese restaurant once when I felt a distinct tingle in my throat. It was very disconcerting. And just the proximity alone of a creature like that—alien with potential airborne tentacle allergens….” The words trailed off. “You’re not even listening to me, are you, Major?”

“I’ve got this part of the class memorized, professor,” I said dryly. “And you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“What was I supposed to do? Play Hiveship by myself? Forfeit the game? That’ll never happen. I’m up two on you. Two. You’re not taking that away from me. And what are you going to do? You’ve already grounded me; you going to lock me in my room next?” Finishing off the bar, he folded his arms. “That’ll be the day. I’ll go where I want to go and do what I want to do.” The ‘so there’ was unvoiced, but definitely implied.

“You’re turning into a real adrenaline junkie, Rodney,” I drawled. “Looks like I grounded you just in time.”

Before he could deny it, and he would’ve no matter how true it might be, I heard a voice behind us. “Wait! Major Sheppard, Rodney, wait!” Seconds later, Zelenka came pounding out of the darkness into the circle of our flashlight illumination. Panting and wheezing, he bent over and waved an arm as he tried to recover his breath.

“What is this, a field trip? What the hell did you do?” I asked McKay with disbelief. “Send up some sort of geek bat-signal?”

“No, no.” Zelenka straightened. The fine, wispy hair was floating about his head like a bohemian halo. “Do not blame Rodney.” The wink he sent McKay’s way was so blatant that I couldn’t bear to call him on it. “Dr. Pyongg sent me. Now…where….” He patted his pockets, pushed up his glasses, mumbled under his breath, then patted again. Finally…finally…he pulled free a piece of paper. “Ah, here it is. Loong would like you, Major Sheppard, to obtain a sample for him. He’s greatly interested in the…ah…” His hands flew about for a moment, briefly measured off a good eighteen inches in the air, then shoved the paper in my hand as he beamed. “The reproductive organs, yes? He crafted for you a diagram. Where to cut, where to snip.”

I dangled the paper by a corner with two fastidious fingers. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“Major,” he said solemnly, “I cannot shit you. It is not in my nature.”

Like I bought that for a single, solitary second.

Turning, I stuffed the paper in McKay’s jacket chest pocket. “All right. That’s it. We’re done for the day. McKay, Dr. Z, head back now.” I admired my geeks, I protected my geeks, but a man had his limits, and I’d just reached mine.

McKay scowled instantly. I’d said he was unsympathetic as a goat, but he was stubborn as one as well…not to mention the dietary similarities. “Haven’t I said repeatedly in the past few days, you can’t tell me…can’t tell any of us what to do,” he said obstinately.

“Guess what, McKay.” I leaned forward until I was nose to nose with him. “I just did.”

It was later when I was seconds from being Wraith-food that I discovered that at least one of my geeks had ignored me. As usual. I’d reached the dock and took a second to admire the sight. The stars were brilliant, so much more so than on Earth, and the waves were a luminescent froth of white. The phosphorescence in the water was bright enough that I didn’t need a flashlight and I switched mine off. It was nearly the same quality of light as a cloudy twilight evening. Amazing.

What was less amazing was the lack of squark. Not that I was looking forward to the sight or the stench, but if there was no squark, what had set off the alarm? I pulled my nine-mil and quickly scanned my surroundings. Nothing. Just the gentle wash of waves over metal. My boots clanked against the same metal as I searched. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for…until I found it, right at the edge of the dock.

A footprint outlined in phosphorescence.

I scanned again grimly, saw nothing, then kneeled beside it. The print of a bare foot, it was big. What the hell? Some alien Bigfoot swam a few thousand miles over from the mainland? That seemed unlikely. What seemed more likely choose that moment to pull me into the water. A hand, large as well, pale and utterly familiar came out of the waves, grabbed me by the ankle and jerked me off the dock and under the surface with a savage strength.

I thought I heard a voice shout as I disappeared under the waves, but I was more concerned with shooting at the moment. Guns, if you treat them right, are waterproof…at least once. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. I fired every round into the blurry form that hung before me in the water. Dead center. The grip on my boot weakened and I kicked free. Surfacing, I made for the dock. I was only fifteen or twenty feet away and I covered it in a heartbeat. When I got there, hands were ready to help pull me up. He never goddamn listened…never.

“McKay,” I gritted. “I am going to kick your ass.”

“Yes, well, kick later, run now.” He was looking over my shoulder with the expression I imagined most people had just as the avalanche swept over them. Horrified, panicked, and, even in the face of their own mortality, awed at nature’s power. I turned my head to see what he saw and I was more than a little awed myself. The damn Wraith rose from the waves like Poseidon. Granted, it was a Poseidon with bad skin and catfish whiskers, but was that really all that unusual? You live under the sea and chances are your skin’s going to be pretty pale, not to mention slimy. As for catfish whiskers…who knew what his mom had been up to?

More importantly, who knew if he was alone.

“Command,” I said sharply.

Grodin must’ve pulled night shift because his voice rang smoothly in my ear. “Yes, Major Sheppard?”

“Wraith incursion in 1J. They’re coming out of the water. Send Ford, Teyla, and twenty. Deploy all others to their emergency stations. Lock the place down.” Alarms began to wail over the city before I got the last words out. Grodin was definitely not asleep at the switch. We had several invasion options in place. This was the first time we’d had to use one. I hoped it was the last. I also hoped I lived to see if it was the last. “You have a gun, Rodney?” I asked as I pushed him ahead of me towards the entryway.

“Gun? Gun? We were playing Hiveship for God’s sake. I want to win, but not that badly, okay?”

I shoved the nine-millimeter into his hands along with two clips. “Well, now we get to play Hiveship for real. And this time remember…when you’re out, you reload.”

“Never let me live that down,” he mumbled under his breath as he frantically shoved a clip into place. While he was working I turned and pulled the ‘P 90’ off my back. Contrary to McKay, I went armed pretty much everywhere. Cafeteria, sure. Bathroom, why not? I fired as the Wraith stepped onto the platform. Fifteen shots added to the ten I’d already plunked in him. It did the job…just barely. He fell, twitched, twitched some more, and finally lay still.

“They’re getting harder to kill,” I murmured. “Why are they getting harder to kill?”

“When were they ever easy? How did I miss that?” came McKay’s incredulous response. He stood at my back…watching my back as if he’d been doing that for years instead of building nuclear bombs for fun and profit. And it was as he watched my back, as a scientist and a soldier, that he got his reward. A stunner-bolt hit him and literally blew him off the dock. He disappeared into the water and was gone…instantly…as if he’d never been there at all.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I turned and saw the Wraith rising and aiming again. I turned his head to a splintered thing of bone and meat within seconds. And then I was in the water. It was still bright. Clean and glowingly magical, but it got darker the further down you went. Dark as anything you could imagine.

I didn’t think I’d find him. I didn’t think a lot of things and I was usually right. I didn’t think Gaul would live after what the Wraith had done to him, although the end had been different than I’d expected. I didn’t think the Genii were likely to swear undying friendship after we’d denied them our jumper…and their bomb. I didn’t think we’d get Sumner back. That was my biggest ‘didn’t think’ and I kept it to myself. I’d had to try, had to give him a chance no matter how small, but deep down…yeah.

No, I didn’t think I’d find Rodney. And if it hadn’t been for two things, I wouldn’t have. First was the water. It was utterly calm, the waves bare ripples along the surface. Rodney went straight down, there was no drift. Second was the squark. It nosed the limp body curiously and I could only see both of them because the squark glowed as well. When it saw me swimming in their direction, it spun and disappeared. I guessed it thought us as ugly as we thought them. Snagging a handful of blue shirt, I headed for the surface with burning lungs. I didn’t think I’d find him, but I wouldn’t have come back without him. I’d given Sumner a chance. I’d give McKay all of them.

It was when I hit air that I started to get mad. Anger, it’s a great cover for a lot of things…especially for a soldier, who lives with the potential for catastrophe every day. Fear? Loss? Get mad instead. It’s easier to function mad…easier to do what you have to.

Like blow air into still lungs.

I called for a med-team on a jumper. Forty-five minutes across the city by foot…a minute by jumper. It was one goddamn big difference. I checked for a pulse again, and I felt it. Not weak, not strong…but slow and steady. So slow I might’ve even missed it the first time. I felt something in me fall at that…felt its legs simply give way. The heart was working, verifying that the disobedient son of a bitch actually had one, but he still wasn’t breathing. I kept up with the mouth to mouth. As for the Wraith…good thing there was only two. Right then I wouldn’t have needed a gun to take out a third.

“I grounded you, McKay. Grounded your ass.” Breath. “And you still get in trouble.” Breath. “To be so smart….” Breath. “You’re the stupidest goddamn man alive.”

He chose that moment to vomit on me. I had to give it to him…it was one hell of a rebuttal. I also had to say it was the only time that I not only didn’t mind being vomited on, I actually was friggin’ ecstatic about it. I ignored the warm sea water that hit my chest and quickly rolled him onto his side as he continued to empty. Stomach…lungs…everything. It wasn’t much. I’d already cleared most with the Heimlich maneuver before I started CPR. “Okay, Rodney,” I said firmly. “You’re halfway there. Keep going.” I kept a hand on his back to support him and check for respirations. Mouth at his ear, I ordered, “Take a breath, okay? Just one breath.” Christ, for once…once…do as your goddamn told.

And for once, he did.

I could see the glimmer of his eyes as they opened a bare crack. He blinked, coughed harshly, but between the violent spasms I thought I heard my name. “Right here, Rodney.” I patted his back lightly and put the other on his shoulder to keep him on his side. “Not going anywhere.” From the rubbery quality of my legs I sincerely doubted I could have even if I wanted to.

“City…flooding. Locked…in.” He twitched under my hand, and I squeezed his shoulder. I wasn’t surprised he thought of that. I’d known it bugged him the second Weir number two had told us how we’d gone out in her timeline. I wasn’t particularly upset about going out in a dogfight with the Wraith. That was quick. Drowning…locked in a room with rising water, that was a different story.

“No.” I squeezed harder. “No ultimate failure this time. The flux capacitor worked. You kicked ass and took names.” The failsafe hadn’t hurt either, but let’s not kick a man when he’s down. I heard the jumper and looked up as it hovered overhead. More or less. Wobbling, dipping to one side then the other, it slowly descended onto the platform. Beckett, if anything, seemed to be getting worse at flying…not better. Proof that practice doesn’t always make perfect.

“The cavalry’s here, McKay,” I said reassuringly, skimming the water from his short hair with one brusque stroke. “And they come bearing needles. Lots and lots of needles.”

I wasn’t sure he would hear me…or understand, but from the slurred ‘asshole’, I think that he did.

“I died? I died?” He paled and put an automatic hand on his chest to check for a thump-thump. “My heart actually stopped?”

“Just for a second,” I said defensively. “Hell, maybe it never stopped at all. You weren’t talking…you, Rodney ‘the Mouth’ McKay. I might’ve just jumped to a very natural conclusion, okay? And you didn’t die. You’re here right now, aren’t you? So you didn’t die.”

He scowled at my lack of sympathy for the drama of his situation. “I wasn’t breathing. My heart may have stopped. I was d….”

“You-did-not-die,” I cut him off, emphasizing every word. “It didn’t happen. Got it? So shut up about it already.” I slouched further down in the chair beside his infirmary bed, folded my arms, and felt my mouth tighten. It had been eight hours since the mini-invasion. I’d come to the conclusion that it was a scouting party to test our more basic defenses. Weir agreed. We’d stood just outside the curtained enclosure where McKay was being examined and put on oxygen as I’d given her report. By the time I was done there was a considerable puddle under my feet and Rodney was declared viable for life by Beckett. He was drifting in and out of sleep when I settled in beside the bed.

Blurry eyes had taken me in and he had muttered, “You said…let me fly again.”

Damn Beckett, what a tattletale. I guess when it came down to the wire the Doc was with the geeks after all. I should never have let it slip when I was flying us back in the jumper. Relief can make you say and do some stupid things. Then again…McKay had gone and given me proof that the geek squad was no safer in Atlantis than on a mission. Grounding them now was pointless. I couldn’t keep them safe, not here. Not anywhere…not really.

I’d sighed and given in with ill-grace to say grudgingly, “Fine. You’re Top Geek all over again. I’ll even let you fly the jumper next mission.”

He’d snorted. It had been wet and triumphant. “I win.”

Cocky bastard.

He’d slept seven hours, drowning takes a lot out of a person I suppose. I stuck around, but I didn’t wipe the drool off his chin. I hadn’t done it with the Wraith bolt to the face and I wasn’t doing it now. I tried to cajole an owl-eyed Dr. Z. into it, but in the end we had to call a nurse for the job. After an hour, I sent Zelenka to bed. After all, he had a busy day tomorrow rebuilding all his stills. That and spreading word of my defeat to all his fellow geeks.

I stayed. I dozed a bit, off and on. I’d learned over the years to sleep nearly anywhere…even hard metal chairs. Beckett poked his head in once or twice, grumbled, before saying less-than-obliquely, “Twice is enough, aye?”

Yeah, drowning twice was enough…even counting both timelines. Sometimes I wondered if I hadn’t made a mistake with McKay. Bringing him on the missions regularly, more than any other scientist. Teaching him how to shoot. Hanging out. Liking him. In war you shouldn’t like people. Respect them, yes. Depend on them, if you could. Liking them…it wasn’t smart. It wasn’t safe.

Then McKay had interrupted my thoughts by letting rip a snore and blowing a spit bubble. I’d groaned, exhaled and surrendered to the inevitable. Sometimes you had to embrace your own stupidity and go on. I’d dropped my chin on my chest, did just that, and slept. When McKay woke up, I’d woken up with him. It wasn’t as if I had much choice. Ten minutes later the relief that had quietly abided for eight hours had run off with tail between its legs and I was telling him to shut up about the whole dying thing.

He didn’t. “Do you need a definition of death, Major? Minus the whole EEG findings of course, just the most superficial definition. Lack of respiration, lack of heart rhythm. Then there’s the….”

I got up and started for the door. “I’m overdue for a shower. You have no idea how much. See you later.”

“Hey.”

I kept going.

“Hey! Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.” I hesitated. “Swear. Cross my heart and hope to bunk with Kavanaugh.” I looked back to see him holding his hand up and looking at me with sincerity…at least as much sincerity as McKay was capable of.

Turning back, I let the corner of my mouth twitch reluctantly. “How about I come back and pick you up for lunch? I’m sure Beckett will be kicking you out about then, if he can put up with you that long. You can lord it over me in the cafeteria as all your geeky subjects bow before their king.”

He brightened at the thought, a shadow fading from his eyes. “I’ll get Radek to bring his camcorder. We have to mark this occasion for posterity.” He leaned back, hands behind his head. “I told you not to piss off a super-geek,” he offered smugly. “But did you listen? Nooooo.”

“The Mouth is back,” I snorted and started to turn again.

“You all right?” he asked with hesitation. “I mean, I know the Wraith didn’t shoot you. No squark bites.” He shuddered at the thought and I made a mental note to not tell him about his squark encounter story…at least not until a really special occasion came along. “But…” His eyebrow drew down into a V as he met my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Sometimes you take the bad with the good, McKay.” I smiled faintly and left it up to him to decide which one of those he was. Turning again, I walked towards the door. I almost made my escape, too. I was tired to the bone, wearing questionable body fluids, and had a suspicious tickle in the back of my throat. I wanted warm water, soap, and a soft bunk. And I almost had it.

Hand grenades and horseshoes, damn it. Hand grenades and horseshoes.

Beckett’s hand landed on my shoulder before I could pass through the doorway. In his other hand he held a fat folder. Spaniel brown eyes were softly sympathetic over an unholy glee. “Sorry, Major. You need to bide a spell. Your test results are back.” The hand moved from my shoulder to pat me on the back consolingly. “Your EEG is a wee bit wonky, your hypothalmus is in overdrive, and your serotonin levels are decreased. It’s a bit of a mouthful I know, but the good news is it seems to be resolving.”

Great, the verdict was in. Victim. I think I would’ve rather been an asshole. “The bad news?”

The glee burned away every iota of sympathy. “You’re grounded.”

Crap.

The End