Colonel Carter stopped in her tracks, listening. Music?

She was headed down to one of the laboratories in the east pier that remained primarily unused. Tilting her head, she distinctly heard someone playing the piano down the hall. Curious, she kept walking.

There in front of a huge window overlooking the sea was Dr. Rodney McKay at the bench of an old, weathered upright piano. His back was to her; he kept playing. In all their years she had never seen him so concentrated, so fully engulfed in anything besides his work – and even then he could still be insufferable – and he had certainly never been so relaxed in her presence. (Perhaps never at all.)

Her destination was forgotten as she stood watching his fingers grace the piano like an old friend or a lover of years.

The music was familiar, tinged with an eerie sadness, but she couldn't place it. He was bent over the instrument, swaying smoothly with the music as if it was a part of his very soul, and as she listened further it began to intertwine with her own.

Finally the notes faded out. His fingers ceased moving; his shoulders slumped, head down.

A silent moment passed by. "Rodney, that was beautiful." She was surprised by how teary her voice sounded.

He sighed without looking up. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a few minutes." She crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest and walked closer to sit beside him on the piano bench. "It's magnificent, isn't it?" she asked, staring out at the sea. The two moons glimmered against the water, a strange but exquisite sight. "Do you come down here a lot?"

Rodney shrugged. "Every now and then. When I need to… think about… stuff." He fingered the gently worn keys as he spoke. "The piano used to be in the rec room. When they needed to make room for Sheppard's pool table I had it moved down here."

Carter nodded silently, scrutinizing his faraway expression.

"When I told you I used to want to be a musician," he began suddenly. "My teacher said I was brilliant technically but didn't understand the emotions behind the music. It was years ago, that conversation we had at the SGC. We had just met. Do you remember that?"

"Of course."

Rodney turned to look at her for the first time. "I think I understand it now. The emotion part."

"I always knew there was a big softie in there somewhere," she punched him playfully.

The smile that surfaced vanished quickly. "After everything that's happened here…" he trailed off, gaze traveling back to the sea and two moons. "We've gained… technology, allies, friends, understanding, but…" His eyes moved to hers, holding his own uniquely bittersweet, tormented anxiety. "We've lost so much as well. I never thought…" He sighed, running a hand over his hair. "Ford I didn't know all that well. Then when we lost Carson, I didn't think I could handle it. Now Elizabeth…" A sigh escaped his lisp again.

Carter's smile tightened sympathetically. "You know, Rodney, you don't always have to be so hard on yourself."

He frowned halfheartedly. "What does that have to do with what I was talking about –"

"It doesn't. It just always bothered me since I really got to know you." She stared out at the starry sea. "First I thought you were just arrogant."

He scoffed; she ignored him.

"You really are a good man, Rodney. It's OK to show your feelings, your weaknesses. Maybe then more people would like you."

"Hey!"

"Kidding," she smirked, but her expression sobered quickly. "Any one of your friends here would die for you. And I bet you'd do the same."

His eyes fell back to the keyboard in front of him, avoiding contact. "I was perfectly happy before I came here. Or at least I thought I was. But…" He looked at her again with a slight smile, a thought bubbling up. "Did I ever tell you about the time I was stuck in a leaky jumper at the bottom of the ocean, and I named a whale after you?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if she should be disturbed or flattered. "No, you didn't."

"There were these giant things we called flagellus in the ocean where the city used to be. It kept swimming around the jumper, and that was how they found me. I was hypothermic and going crazy, so… I called it Sam." His expression was distant as he remembered. "You kept me alive that day."

"Really." She couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Yeah. Like I said, I was going insane. I kept having these hallucinations of you there with me, trying to keep me safe."

She raised a condescending eyebrow. "McKay, what did you do to me?"

"Nothing!" he squeaked. "Well…"

"McKay!" she snapped.

"Hey, you offered!" He leaned against the piano. "We didn't do anything. I stopped you. I had to fix the jumper, or we… well, I… was going to die. Eventually Sheppard and Zelenka came to get me out."

Carter smiled slightly, remembering the time she was kept alive by hallucinations of her family and friends.

The look in his eyes shifted as he tensed. His eyes traveled across her face, his expression nearly unreadable.

"McKay," she warned.

"I know," he sighed, relaxing slightly. "I know." Leaning forward slowly, he kissed her on the cheek and pulled back.

She sighed quietly, still for a moment. "Come on," she stood up. "I'm picking up some extra data for Zelenka before I turn in."

"Zelenka," he muttered. "Of course, he gets –"

"Rodney," she chided with a half-joking smile. "Don't worry. You will always be my favorite."

The smallest smile appeared on his face. Genuine.