Stargate: Atlantis Fan Fiction ❯ Tales of Atlantis ❯ Bonding ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"I don't see why you have to bring this up again," Colonel Sheppard mumbled, half-way through his lunch. He wasn't the kind of person to eat in silence, but he'd been very quiet throughout the meal.
It might have had something to do with the subject of their conversation.
"Maybe because I want to make you feel as uncomfortable as I am right now," Rodney answered, stabbing his steak. "80% of the times you get captured, it's always by sexy aliens that wouldn't frown upon seducing you, if it helped them reach their goal. I take it back, it happened to me once – with Harmony! Let me rephrase it - aliens you wouldn't mind seducing to get out of their trap. I just get to feel like a pedo!”
That morning, Rodney had awoken with the tail end of a particularly disturbing dream still lingering at the corner of his consciousness. The worse part was he had been uninspired enough to mention it to the psychiatrist just outside her office, where Sheppard was just happening to pass by. It didn't take much to amuse him on a slow day.
"Come on, Rodney. I've been in danger from my captors as many times as any of you." Besides, he had his own reason to feel like a corruptor of minors at times, though never around Harmony. Said reason was sitting a few tables away and had ignored him ever since she sat down to eat.
"I wasn't saying you weren't. I was pointing out that danger, in your case, usually wears tight leather and high heals."
"So what does that have to do with anything?" John's amusement from earlier was starting to wear thin and so was his patience.
Rodney tried to smile disarmingly. "Nothing really. But it gets really annoying after a while. Remember the incident with Larrin?"
The memory brought a wistful look to Sheppard's eyes. "What about her?"
"I was almost feeling sorry for you back then. Until I realized you were probably enjoying the situation a bit too much."
"I wouldn't say I was enjoying it, not as such," he tried to excuse himself, but a wicked little smile crossed his lips at exactly the wrong time. "Though, in retrospect..." He threw a quick glance at the other table, but she either couldn’t hear them, or she didn’t care.
"See? What was I saying! She was hot!" Rodney jumped.
"...I never said she wasn't."
"It's not fair," Rodney complained again "It really isn't fair. Whenever I get captured, it's either the Wraith, or something I'd prefer never to remember." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Even in my dreams, I get kidnapped by vicious, murderous, mutant lemons from outer space!"
John couldn't help himself and, despite his annoyance, gave McKay a wide grin. That was how the whole discussion had started, after all.
"Don't laugh! Why can't I get captured by the sexy alien for once?"
There must have been something wrong with the food today, Catherine thought, fighting to swallow. It was either that, or the acoustics of the mess hall – definitely too good for her taste. Larrin this, Larrin that, lemons from space and sexy aliens – it seemed Rodney couldn’t catch a break and that really got on her nerves. It just had to be that, she had no other reason to be bothered by Sheppard’s womanizing, other than his gloating was done at the expense of her only friend here.
OK, she had two choices: she could finish her meal, ignoring as best as she could the conversation, or she could use this chance to wipe Colonel Sheppard's smirk, which she could feel even without looking at him.
There wasn't really a choice there, so she abandoned her meal and went straight to their table, with a shining smile flourishing on her lips.
“Tell me, Doctor,” she purred, looking only at Rodney. Casually, she put both hands on the table, leaning toward him. The fact that she was almost painfully aware of the other man's presence just served to infuriate her further. She had done her best to avoid Sheppard’s company for the two weeks of intense quarantine that followed their last off-world mission and had done a good job at it until now. "Does being from Nebraska make me count as an alien? Because I'd like to abduct you for dinner tonight..."
Rodney swallowed hard, but his eyes were clearly glued to her cleavage. She smirked.
"I didn't thank you yet for saving me back then. If you hadn't fixed the shield generator..."
She left the sentence trailing off and smiled again, this time with gratitude.
"What do you think, Dr. McKay? Do you accept to be my prisoner?"
Not having time to plan her moves was a good thing. Not in a thousand years could she have pictured herself saying something like that to a man, and even worse, to a friend. However, what was done was done and Catherine could only hope that Rodney will see through her flirting well enough not to take it in the wrong way. For now, he seemed intent on seeing through her blouse.
John couldn’t believe his ears. Rodney was her hero?
He was about to comment on Rodney's actual contribution on that incident - which, though important, was nowhere near as active as she gave him credit - but decided against it. The current development was rather interesting and slightly amusing – the scientist’s cluelessness around women was becoming proverbial. And Catherine was actively fighting for the man's attention.
He wondered if he should talk Ronon into a little bet. It would definitely make things interesting. Besides, maybe this time Rodney did find his match. They were both infuriatingly smart and with social skills to match.
There was still the little point of her not giving him the light of day. He couldn’t understand why she would be mad at him. The only thing he had done was to save her and all he got in return was the silent treatment. Back on the planet, he even though she might just like him at times, despite her prickliness, but no. As soon as they had returned to Atlantis, she had returned to being cold and distant around him – her old self, basically. He wondered if it had something to do with him not taking part in those uptight MENSA reunions she and Rodney seemed to enjoy so much.
"Of course he does," John jumped in for his friend.
He was pleased to see the scientist unglue his eyes from her cleavage and look at him in panic. He really wanted to see him wiggle his way out of this date.
"I guess it's alien enough," Rodney managed to say, his voice rising with discomfort, but trying to keep it in check. "And you are definitely attractive enough."
"And she isn't even citrus!" John really couldn’t help himself.
Although she probably didn’t understand what was wrong with lemons, Catherine continued to ignore him.
"Oh, thank you, Rodney!"
Her smile became even brighter as she leaned against Rodney and pressed her lips to his cheek.
"So it's a date. I'll wait for you in my room at... let's say 6 o'clock."
Catherine turned around, almost bumping into John and blushed. "Excuse me," she muttered, the smile gone and her cold expression back in its place. Avoiding to look at his face as usual, Catherine pushed him aside and headed to the door.
Rodney was starting to get a cramp in his neck from all the nodding he had been doing. Truth be told, he was finally speechless. He never really expected Catherine to be interested in him this way. She had been friendly, all right, but not like that. Besides, she seemed to be doing her best to ignore Sheppard's presence, which made it harder for him to drive onto a safer subject - their usual stabs and jabs at the Colonel's expense. There might have also been the question of her cleavage, which he could swear was aimed at him with military precision and efficiency. How could a man resist to that?
So, he nodded.
"You know, if you keep that up, you'll have to ask her for a neck-rub this evening as well. I never would have pegged you to be so devious."
Sheppard’s little joke somehow went right over him, as he was absentmindedly stabbing at his food with the fork.
"Aren't you excited about your date? At all?" Sheppard insisted, sounding a little too interested in the matter.
Realization finally filled Rodney's eyes and he smiled. Maybe he knew Catherine a bit too well. "I am, why wouldn’t I be? I finally have my sexy alien, for once."
This time, Sheppard said nothing. He just nodded in turn.
On the other hand, Catherine was at least as shocked as Dr. Rodney McKay. She hurried out of the mess hall, made a few steps on the hallway, then stopped abruptly and leaned against the wall, her heart racing like crazy.
She had just invited Rodney McKay for dinner... in her own room. Looking back, she couldn't imagine what in the world she was thinking and what made her do it, but hey, guess what? It was too late to step back.
Like most of the people who spent more time surrounded by samples and tubes than in the company of other human beings, Catherine was a very shy person. Of course, none of her subordinates ever had the chance to see that side of her but, after all, she was a good professional – and their boss. There was no point in making a show of her weaknesses – not if she wanted to earn their respect, despite her young age. And that was a problem she had to deal with from very early in life.
The worst part was that she had always despised the flirtatious nurses - shiny butterflies wearing tons of make-up, fooling around and spending more energy on getting men's attention than on doing their job properly. She had always despised them... and ended up doing the exact same thing.
“Damn you, Sheppard! It's your fault I got myself in this situation!" she mumbled, biting her lower lip in frustration. What the hell had been wrong with her?! One moment she was sitting at her table, annoyed by their little talk, and the next one she was posing as "femme fatale" and asking Dr. McKay out. She must have been out of her mind, really.
With a deep breath, she moved away from the wall and headed to the Infirmary. By the time she passed her small laboratory, her face showed nothing of the earlier turmoil and no one would have guessed she was on the verge of a panic attack.
Were she as serene as she looked, she would have never missed the sight of the cleaning lady who was disinfecting the lab’s floor at the exact moment when Catherine was passing by. She was new in Atlantis – she had arrived only a few days before to help them with the house-keeping. Apparently, the IOA, so reticent to make big decisions, had suddenly concluded that a couple of extra hands to help keep Atlantis shiny were exactly what the expedition needed. At the time, she was probably the only person on base unaware that Catherine had forbidden anyone from going into the lab in her absence – especially after they had just broken quarantine.
She had almost finished her job and was about to leave the lab when she noticed a cup of coffee on the left corner of the desk and turned back to collect it. Whoever had left it there surely didn’t intend to drink it cold, so she reached for the cup, knocking over a blood tube in the process. With a loud noise, the tube hit the floor, its content splashing all over.
The incident made her wash the floor for a second time that day. Not something she wished for or enjoyed, but, as it would turn out, that was the brightest part of her day.
The not-so-bright part had the shape of an alien pathogen that had finally found another human host and started to mutate.
Papers, papers and... more papers. After five hours of hard work, Catherine lost track of the number of forms, reports, receipts, inventories and registers she had filed, written or archived. The paperwork was the most obnoxious part of her job and she had tried to avoid it for days. The “lunch incident”, however, made the paperwork look like bliss – the wording of the fucking forms was so bureaucratic it required her full attention to decipher it.
When she was finally done with the paperwork, the imminence of her date hit her and panic washed over her – what the hell was she supposed to wear on a date?! She had only one dress – and she had to think hard to remember the color. It was probably blue – or green - and it definitely had nothing to do with tight leather and high heals. If Dr. MacKay really expected her to wear that kind of outfit, he was going to be really disappointed.
It was too late to start cooking – assuming she was even able to cook in the first place – so she headed to the mess hall to grab something, anything, to eat. When she finally entered her room, Catherine was so panicky that she hoped Rodney will change his mind about her offer at the last minute.
And the dress wasn’t green. It wasn’t blue either. It was a nice violet, but the color wasn’t the problem here. Putting it on, Catherine made an uncomfortable discovery – the dress was at least one size too small and a lot shorter than she remembered.
So… still not leather, but definitely tight, she thought, looking at her mirror image with something akin to terror.
Perfect. Just... perfect.
At about the same hour, having solved most of the work he had for the day and a bit extra to see if he could procrastinate his way out of the date, Rodney realized there was little left to do and he still hadn't come up with any good ideas for the evening.
The thought of asking Sheppard for help passed through his mind, but it flew out just as fast. The last thing he needed was the wise and knowledgeable input of the said Colonel on the subject of dating. True, he did have better luck with the ladies than half the guys on Atlantis, but the captain Kirk approach never worked for Rodney.
He could ask Ronon for a few tips. The idea of a heart to heart talk with the proud warrior... The big guy didn't really... Well, he didn't really have to deal with women like Catherine.
Come to think of it, the way Rodney always chased after difficult or unavailable women was a bit worrying. He used to have a thing for dumb blondes and ended up falling for Samantha Carter. Needless to say, that didn't work out how he'd imagined it. Then, he switched to Katie Brown. OK, maybe Katie wasn’t difficult or unavailable, but she certainly expected from him more than he could offer and dumped him when she understood that.
Damn it, whenever a woman showed any interest in him, he usually managed to screw things up. When the interest was mutual, it was even worse – and he was certainly interested in Dr. Spencer. She was brilliant, blonde and not interested in John “Captain Kirk” Sheppard – so she was definitely his type. This thought alone was frightening enough to cause him panic.
He hated to admit it, but he needed advice. That was why he was now knocking on Teyla's door, trying to look as calm and inconspicuous as he could.
"Teyla, can I have a word with you?"
The Athosian greeted him with a calm smile. "Of course, Rodney. What is it that worries you?"
"You know Dr. Spencer?"
Teyla raised one eyebrow. "Of course."
"She kind of invited me over for dinner tonight."
"Like a date?" Her voice was tinted with amusement.
Rodney hesitated and looked away. "You could call it that..."
"And what do you need to ask me? You have been on dates before, Rodney."
"And we all know how those worked out," he added sarcastically.
Teyla pat his shoulder. "Just be yourself. I doubt she'd settle for less than your sparkling personality."
"Great," he sighed. "More good advice. Be myself and rely on previous dating experience. You've been of great help." He turned to leave. "I think I'll have a word with Zelenka."
“And... Rodney,” Teyla called after him. “Give her something.”
“Something... like what?” he asked, completely clueless.
“I think flowers... or chocolate would do.”
Rodney stopped and turned back.
“Chocolate? Chocolate, right,” he muttered, cheering up a bit. “That might actually work.” Thank God he always had a secret stash of tasty, Canadian chocolate.
“I’ll talk to Zelenka anyway. For back-up, you know?”
She didn’t, but Rodney was running out of time and didn’t bother explaining.
“Good luck, Dr. McKay,” she wished him as he hurried through the hallway in search of Zelenka.
In the middle of a sparing match, John decided it was about time to clue Ronon in on the recent events.
"Dr. Spencer asked Rodney to dinner tonight," he said casually, dodging a very well placed punch. "How long do you think it will take him to ruin this one?”
"McKay? With Dr. Spencer? The Dr. Spencer?"
Ronon Dex looked at him in disbelief, the shadow of a smile flourishing on his lips. Although they were sparing for quite a while, he didn't even break a sweat. In fact, the big guy looked like he had just taken a walk in the park, only his defensive position betraying his current activity.
"Are you kiddin' me?"
John was panting with the effort, managing to miss every single blow.
"My bet is he wouldn't last fifteen minutes before messing up."
The smile on Ronon's face turned into a healthy laugh. He allowed John to hit him once so he could catch him off-guard and pin him down.
"You're clearly underestimating McKay,” he said, helping John back on his feet. “I give him at least twenty. And if you lose, you have to fight me. Blindfolded."
John wasn’t really a fan of those terms, and with good reason – Ronon needed no tactical advantage to beat him to a pulp. However, it looked like the warrior was in the mood to play rough. Of course, you had more chances to encounter a gentle-hearted Wraith than to see McKay lasting more than five minutes on a date with that particular woman without screwing it up. But hey! Every dog has his day, right?
He whipped his face on a towel, pondering his prize. "Fine. And if I win, you teach me how to do that... What you call it? That thing you did to the Wraith last time" The move would really come in handy, but a more devious thought crossed his mind. "And you get to babysit Dr. Spencer the next time she comes with us on a mission. This way, she might keep the heroics to a minimum."
Ronon looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
Babysit Dr. Spencer – probably not as bad as Sheppard made it sound, but McKay would better hold out for those twenty minutes. Now, he could have said sixteen, what had possessed him to say twenty? He had to picture again the hilarious image of John Sheppard fighting blindfolded before he nodded.
"All right, Sheppard. Next time I'll take the girl into my custody. After all, she's not that bad, you know? That's if you look closer."
Nonsense. The woman had attacked a Wraith with a pen knife. If that didn’t spell ‘suicidal’, Ronon was really worried about her survival instinct.
"I only see one problem with your plan - how do we know who won the bet? You don't intend on going with him, now, do you?"
"Oh, I wouldn't call that a problem. I doubt he'd let me but in, but what he doesn't know, can't hurt him. Or me, for that matter." He was thinking of the very complicated, very intrusive Ancient surveillance system Zelenka had made operational by mistake. "All we need is to get to security."
Rodney had left Zelenka in a state of confusion he didn't really wish on anyone. At least, the Czech knew what to do and suspected nothing of why he was doing it. With his backup plan in place and a few minutes to spare, Rondey headed for Catherine's room.
He had no idea what she liked, but Teyla was right – no one could say no to a box of chocolates. And these ones were even shaped like little maple leaves!
He decided against flowers, especially since he couldn't find any and she was probably as allergic to pollen as he was.
Trying to look calm and collected, he knocked on her door. If he called it off now... he'd probably prove he was as insensitive and egotistic as most people thought.
Catherine barely had time to put some make up on and set the food on the table when she heard the knocking.
Wasn't it too early?
She looked at the clock from the table and no, it wasn't. Twisting her pretty face into a grimace, Catherine took a last look in the mirror and headed to the door.
"Rodney?" she asked, although she knew it would be him.
For Christ's sake, he was a friend! Why all the shaking? Taking a deep breath, she mustered up all her courage and opened the door.
"Hey, Rodney! Come on in!"
"Hello!"
Her smile showed nothing of the internal tremor as she led him to the little table where the food was.
Rodney walked in, the box of chocolates in hand, and it didn't take more than a second to assess the whole room. It was tiny. How did Catherine end up in such a small room? There was barely enough space for a bed and table, no chairs, no other furniture. Somehow, he expected something a little larger. “This is… cozy,” he blurted, trying hard not to look like he was staring at her – though the tight dress wasn’t helping him there at all. Wasn’t this supposed to be just a casual date between friends?
"I know my room isn’t much to look at, but I guess you can sit next to me."
"It's quaint." He wasn't really sure what to say, but "Very... intimate, then.”
The whole thing was awkward, but Catherine didn't seem to notice and sat down on the edge of the bed. She certainly looked more confident than he felt and he couldn’t really blame her. She looked gorgeous in that form-fitting dress, her legs looking longer than he remembered and her breasts… maybe he should stay away from that part of her anatomy for the time being.
Awkward and fascinated at the same time, he sat down as well. On the edge of the bed. As far to the other end as the little table permitted.
"So..."
John had convinced the tech in charge of the surveillance system to let him and Ronon take a look. "A routine check," he served him, and it worked. The man gave him a quick overview of the commands and left them alone to perform their 'routine check'. It was probably best he hadn't noticed the large bag John was carrying, stuffed with popcorn. He wished he had brought some beer as well, but he was already breaking enough rules as it was.
"Wasn't she supposed to have Carson's old room?" he asked, seeing the little quarter for the first time on screen. "That would explain some of her problems."
"I don't know. Maybe she didn't want it," Ronon said with a shrug. There was a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he watched Rodney’s awkward interactions with the doctor.
He was carrying a box of chocolates and his lips were moving. Damn, there was no sound.
“She cleans up nice,” John mumbled around the fistful of popcorn he stuffed into his mouth. He tried a few commands, hoping to get the sound on, but almost lost the image as well, so he decided it was best to settle for what they could get.
Without losing the screen from sight, Ronon pulled a chair and made himself comfortable, his feet on the table.
"What's he doing?" John shook his head disapprovingly.
"McKay, give her the chocolates! Don't just sit there!" Ronon cheered on, probably keen on whooping John’s ass again. “Come on, McKay! I know you’d enjoy seeing me win this!”
John raised an eyebrow – his partner in crime was getting a bit too enthusiastic with the cheering and it kind of scared him. “You kick my ass anyway. Why are you so excited by this prospect?”
“But then you wouldn’t know what hit you,” he said, grinning. “Besides, McKay needs all the cheering he can get – he’s an embarrassment to us all!”
John had to agree with him at least on the last part. What was Rodney thinking, staring like a frightened chicken?
After about five minutes of very awkward silence, Catherine finally looked at him and noticed the box in his hand. A little smile flourished in the corner of her mouth. Finally somewhere to start a conversation!
"Am I safe to presume these were for me? You are so considerate, Rodney!"
"These? Of course. Here," he offered, a bit startled, as if he had just snapped out of a trance.
She hated sweets, but took them regardless and offered him an enchanting smile. The makeup did wonders and Catherine was almost pleased with the somewhat grownup appearance it gave her.
OK... Now what? She liked Rodney, she really did, but she had no clue how to take charge of this whole… date… thing. Wasn’t the guy usually supposed to lead? Not that she was old fashioned, but a hint? No? Nothing? Damn!
So… common interest, right? That’s what you’re supposed to talk about on a date! Let’s see… Cancer research? No. Pathogen agents? Definitely no! ZPMs? She had absolutely no clue about how they worked and didn’t really want a lecture on the subject right now. Maybe something more… neutral. Food. No way, he had a mile long list of stuff he couldn’t or wouldn’t eat and another one of stuff he shouldn’t, but was crazy about anyway – he was the only person she knew who actually liked hospital food. It was depressing even for her. While her mind was slowly discarding possible subjects of conversation, the silence in the room was growing thicker so she had no choice but to jump on the next subject that presented itself.
"I want to... I was very interested to... you know... I would be very interested to take lessons from you. I was always passionate about astrophysics and mechanics... and I wondered if you could... Of course, when you have enough spare time and..."
'I am idiot. I am a hopeless idiot.'
"Really? I guess I can find some time to answer your questions. We'll see."
A few more moments of silence.
They had barely touched the food and she was beginning to feel silly. If it weren't for the 'date' label, this should have been a perfectly enjoyable dinner. She should have imagined it would turn out like this the moment she made the invitation. If Rodney had imagined sexy aliens, he was probably disappointed by her performance.
"Listen," she said, turning to face him. "I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to play out, so why don’t we just ignore the date aspect of the thing. OK?"
"I don't know how to do this either, so we have a deal,” Rodney answered and finally seemed to relax a little. He even came up with a more inspired subject. "Sheppard really gets to you, doesn't he? I'm only saying because, at lunch, you really pounced on him." He chuckled at the thought. "And it wasn't even the kind of pouncing women usually do around him."
John almost felt sorry for Rodney. He couldn't bear to watch him there, helpless and lost for words. So he grabbed another handful of popcorn to distract himself.
"Finally! It sure took you a while to remember the chocolates,” Ronon grumbled, forgetting about the popcorn.
After five long minutes of silence and the rocky start of the conversation, the odds were stacked in John’s favor and he knew it. "I'm starting to doubt he'll even get fifteen minutes. It took them five minutes to start talking, if you can call that a conversation. They didn’t even start eating yet! Love doves they sure aren’t!”
He eyed Ronon, waiting for a retort, but the big guy looked as stoic as someone spying on his friend while munching on popcorn could look.
"Oh, I can imagine," she said, rolling her eyes in a very expressive manner.
And indeed, she could. Although Catherine didn't show much interest in gossip, it was impossible not to notice the kind of attention John Sheppard received. Put this way, it was no surprise he was acting like some sort of intergalactic Casanova, but this was definitely not bringing points in his favor.
"I can't stand him," she confessed, suddenly animated, and turned to Rodney. "Always trying to show in how many ways he's better than anyone else and how he'll save the day like the hero he is. Oh, and Mariko... do you know Mariko? She's one of the nurses, doesn't matter. She's madly in love with him; I even caught her taking photos with him while he was unconscious! Can you believe it?"
The story was true. Just as true was the fact that Catherine would have fired her afterward, had they been on Earth. Not that she objected to the woman showing interest in him, but taking pictures of an unconscious patient? That was simply unprofessional.
"Do you remember Caroline?” she continued. “The short one, with blue eyes and blond hair from the scientific department? You won't believe me, but she actually had a poster with him on the wall! I found out when I asked her to help me fix my radio. Where did she even get that?"
She started laughing, though it was tinted with nervousness.
"I've seen people like him my entire life. My... father was in the military and he fought in Vietnam... Hence, I had the opportunity to encounter enough marines and flyboys for a lifetime. Guess why I'm currently single."
Rodney seemed very amused at Catherine’s indignation. "Caroline? She almost started a fan club for the guy!” he supplied.  “It would have worked too, if he hadn't found out. You should have seen the look on his face when he found the pictures!" Even before he finished the last sentence, he was shaking with laughter. Though she had no idea why, Catherine joined in.
"And if you think our girls are bad enough, you should really see his off world harem!" He had to stop for breath. "He suffers from Captain Kirk syndrome. I won't bore you with the whole list, but you've already heard of Larrin. Seriously! The guy has all the luck! I sometimes think all the women in the galaxy are after him."
“Not all of them,” she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.
Rodney gave Catherine a measuring look. "They all seem to have developed a strange attraction to his ass. Albeit, some just want to kick, shoot or stab it." Pondering for a moment, he added, "Even ascended women can't seem to resist him. I think it's the hair."
Elizabeth Weir had been having a particular bad day. After a stupid video conference with the IOA she had been informed that the Dedalus hadn't left Earth just yet and there was no new development about the new doctor. She closed the laptop and walked out of her office only to bump into someone she didn't expect to see around the base just yet.
The new development took John completely by surprise. He supposed he should feel proud of McKay – he was his friend, after all – but he discovered he couldn’t. He just watched the screen in confusion, hardly believing his eyes.
“Seven, Sheppard. Seven more minutes, and you lose the bet,” Ronon reminded him.
Catherine was laughing and John couldn’t help noticing her dimples. What in the world did he tell her to make her laugh like that? If he could only fix the sound!
“Plenty of time for him to screw up, trust me,” he commented absentmindedly. Was it possible that those two really made a good pair? Birds of a feather and all that?
“If you say so...” Ronon replied, visibly amused, and took a handful of popcorn.
“Do you think they make a good couple? Dr. Spencer-“
“Colonel Sheppard?” Zelenka asked through the radio, cutting him short.
"Yeah?" he answered, keeping his eyes on the screen. "What is it, Zelenka?"
"Do you happen to know where Dr. McKay is? I tried to contact him on the radio and apparently he’s offline."
"Sheppard, if you tell him, you cheat and I win," he heard Ronon whispering. "You have no idea where McKay is, tell him."
"Oh, I think they're just stupid," Catherine said, no trace of humor in her voice. "Wait, ascended woman? I've always thought only Ancients have reached ascension."
Ancients and Daniel Jackson, but that was an unverified story from her medical point of view. Anyway, you'd expect more from someone that came back from a higher plain of existence than to fall for a human flyboy.
“But she was an Ancient,” Rodney confirmed. “Certainly didn’t look like one, but...”
Right. Fan club. Off-world harem. Not-so-ancient Ancients chasing after his ass. No wonder the guy was acting like Don Juan reloaded!
Catherine was well aware that she was acting out of character – talking about him behind his back – but she just couldn’t decide to drop the subject. It must have had something to do with the lack of better subjects.
“The wraith queens seem to be the only species missing from his conquest list. Can you imagine what will happen if they’ll start developing the same inexplicable attraction for dear Colonel Sheppard? Wait, that would make him king, wouldn't it? Ew!"
Still laughing, Catherine pointed to a cherry-looking fruit she brought from the kitchen.
"Taste this, it's delicious,” she invited Rodney. “I think Teyla brought it from some planet she visited."
Without giving much thought to what she was doing, she reached for the fruit and put it in Rodney’s mouth. As his lips touched her fingers, she could swear the temperature in the room rose at least four degrees. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware that he was gazing at her face, and took a deep breath.
Trying to avoid eye-contact, a little light spot from the ceiling drew her attention. At first, she looked at it out of the corner of her eye, trying to remember if she had ever seen it before, then the answer hit her and made her heart beat faster. She knew what it was... and it shouldn't have been there.
"What's wrong?" Rodney asked, still chewing. He glanced up to the spot on the ceiling where she was looking. It did strike him as suspicious and a bit familiar.
"He wouldn't!"
"Nope, not really," John answered to Zelenka, ignoring Ronon. "What do you need him for?"
He absentmindedly zoomed in and nearly choked when he saw Rodney bite the fruit Catherine was offering.
“What the-?”
"Are you OK, Colonel?" Zelenka asked, worried by the noises he could hear over radio.
"Fine. Fine," he said, catching his breath. He raised his eyes to Ronon, looking for the same shocked look that was currently gracing his features. "Why did you say you needed him?"
"He asked me to find him at twenty past six about a thing..."
"Don't look at it!" she snarled, quickly embracing him to hide his reaction. It looked like Rodney had reached the same conclusion as her.
A few weeks ago, they lost a member of Team 2. He had locked himself in his room after returning from an off-world expedition and was found dead a few hours later when the door was forced open. Had they had proper warning, they might have been able to save him. This was Catherine's personal encounter with the problem. Over the past few months, since before she joined Atlantis, there had been some other similar cases – people coming back injured or infected after off-world missions and not heading to the infirmary on time – usually it resulted in a few weeks under strict supervision and lots of medication.
Before last week’s failed mission that had been the only patient Catherine had lost and of course she took it to heart. She was not, however, the only one blaming herself for it. Elizabeth had asked Zelenka and Rodney to devise a hybrid security system that worked in tandem with the Ancient one. They had attached video surveillance to the existing sensors, but they were to be activated only in exceptional cases. Dr. Weir had taken full responsibility for the move.
Exceptional cases. Then why on Earth (or possibly Atlantis) were the cameras working now? One explanation would be that someone was playing with them, someone that wasn't supposed to be there, in the surveillance room. And she knew only one person who could and would do such a thing.
“Sheppard?!” she muttered, still embracing a very embarrassed Rodney.
“Who else?!”
She felt a cold anger rising up inside her and her fists clenched. There was no way someone like him could be interested in her date with Rodney for other reason than poking fun. Poking fun at her. The very thought was sickening. Suddenly, she felt foolish in her violet, tight dress, trying to play a role that fit about as well as the dress.
So he wanted a show, did he?! Well, who was she to refuse him, Catherine thought, suddenly deciding what to do.
“I’m sorry, Rodney!” she whispered, pulling him closer to her and brushing her lips softly against his.
For a second, Rodney seemed too shocked to respond and she was even afraid he would reject her. He didn’t and, as instinct took over, he even deepened the kiss. She ran a hand through his hair and held him tighter as her heart started to pound just a little bit faster.
He is only a friend, she reminded herself, but didn’t break away. Their lips brushed apart for a split second before he took over and deepened the kiss even more. For a moment, she almost forgot about the pesky camera and the person behind it. She shut her eyes and she let herself distracted by the wonderful sensation of his lips over hers.
Somewhere, on the other side of Atlantis, the one responsible for the kiss (although completely unaware of the part he played in it) nearly fell off his chair at the sight. "If... If he said he needs to talk to you..." he stuttered, "I guess there's no problem. He's..."
His eyes focused back on the screen, still not fully trusting them. Were those two really kissing?
"He should be in Dr. Spencer's room," he said, before Ronon could stop him.
"What's he doing there?" Zelenka asked in disbelief.
"I can't say. I really can't," John answered, eyes glued to the screen and put the radio down, putting an end to conversation.
"You lost!" Ronon exclaimed and jumped on his feet. "And there were ... almost another three minutes before time ran out! Not that you'd have stood a chance. By the way," he added, patting John on the shoulder and pointing to the screen "They're kissing."
His smirk was easily getting annoying. "When would you like to fight me?"
John tried not to think too hard about Ronon's words. He knew what was coming and there was no reason to dwell on it. The sooner they got it over with, the better it will be for his mental and physical health. Besides, he felt like he needed a good fight, although he couldn’t understand the reason.
Unnoticed, a tall and serious woman stopped three feet away and gave them a disapproving look. Too absorbed in watching the love birds and thinking about fighting Ronon, John failed to notice her before she put her hand on his shoulder.
Without turning, he offered her the bag of popcorn. "It took you a while to show up. Almost missed the show. Too late for betting though. You'd have had to wait in line after Ronon to kick my ass, anyway," he said, thinking it was Teyla he was talking to.
As the kiss grew more and more heated, Rodney would have wondered how far Catherine was going to go, but to do that, he needed full control over his brain cells, which he hadn't.
Then, there was a knock on the door. When neither of them answered, there was another one, a little louder, followed by Zalenka's voice. "Dr. Spencer, is Rodney with you?”
'Shit' Rodney said to himself, realizing he forgot to warn Radek not to look for him anymore. On the other hand, he was pretty sure that, if he’d be in real trouble, the Czech would be nowhere in sight.
"He needs to check something in the lab," Zelenka insisted, completely oblivious to his part in Rodney's discarded backup plan.
"John, can you explain what is happening here?"
Elizabeth Weir's voice was anything but friendly and the serious expression of her face betrayed a trace of fury.
From the moment she had seen Claymore, the technician from the surveillance room, wandering around near her office she had suspected something was wrong. Suspicion that became certitude once she found out that John Sheppard and Ronon were performing a routine check of the surveillance equipment. Since when did they gain the technical expertise necessary to perform any kind of check on any type of electronic system?
The popcorn was certainly a new qualification the two had gained and it was more than unexpected. So was the image on the screen, but that needn't bother her.
"I think Ronon will have to wait a while, Colonel. We'll have to talk about this... routine check."
"You wouldn't believe me if I said I can explain, would you?"
Elizabeth gave him a sharp, warning look.
"Maybe I should keep quiet."
Rodney was mentally kicking himself. He just had to go and asked Zelenka for help. When had that not backfired on him? Why had he even for one second believed it was a good idea to have him stop the date?
As if guessing his thoughts, Catherine broke the kiss and bit her lower lip in frustration.
"I guess you should go check what's wrong," she said, carefully avoiding his gaze. Maybe it was just him, but she seemed a little too cold – like she was disappointed in him – and Rodney couldn’t help but feeling relieved that at least she didn’t know his part in the whole mess.
Unfortunately, it took her less than two seconds to put two and two together and ask the right question.
"Rodney, how did Zelenka know where to find you?"
Damn. He should have known she was far too smart to be fooled by such a lame plan. What the hell was he thinking?!
"We were working on... something this morning," he said awkwardly, walking towards the door. "I asked him to call me the moment the results were in and I forgot my ear-piece in the lab."
“Oh,” was all she said. She didn’t sound too convinced and, as he waved his hand in front of the door panel, Rodney felt a tug on his heartstrings. He had screwed it again – and this time, it was his fault and his fault only. With the image of a disappointed Catherine still lingering in his mind, he opened the door and felt almost satisfied to see Radek's innocent smile faltering at his sight.
"I didn't know I was interrupting. You could have called in and told me not to bother you."
Annoyance rose to new heights for Rodney. "I should have, shouldn't I?"
Something is terribly wrong, Rodney thought, without quite being able to put his finger on it. He stared at Radek for a moment and then the puzzle pieces fit together.
"Radek, how did you know where to find me?” he repeated Catherine’s question. “I forgot to tell you I was having dinner with Dr. Spencer."
"I looked for you all over. I had to ask Colonel Sheppard where to find you."
"Of course he told you!"
Behind him, Catherine stared at them and said nothing.
"I can't wait to hear how you're going to explain this one away. I guess you had a very good reason to... hm..." - Elizabeth peered at the screen - "spy on Rodney and Dr. Spencer."
As Ronon was trying to escape, she turned to him and gave him one of her angry looks that could make stone go wobbly.
"I didn't say you could leave, Ronon. And I'm still waiting for whatever you have to say. And turn that off already!" she ordered, making John jump to the commands.
"We... we thought Rodney might need some moral support..."
He tried to turn off the monitor as inconspicuously as possible, but kept hitting the wrong commands.
"We couldn't just leave him alone with her. Who knows what she might have done?" he insisted.
One more desperate attempt to shut down the monitor ended in success. Sort of. He wasn't entirely sure about it, but he may have turned off the entire system. It wouldn't take them too long to get it online again, right?
Elizabeth gave him a suspicious look then her eyes moved on the popcorn.
"Yes. I am sure you had nothing else in mind."
"You see, there-" John began to explain, but was cut off by a voice in his ear-piece.
"John, did you turn on surveillance in Dr. Spencer's room?" asked Rodney on Zelenka's radio.
How the hell did he know that? Did he know all along? Did Dr. Spencer know? He couldn’t venture to ask any of that with Elizabeth watching over them like a hawk.
"Not technically." At least that wasn't a lie. He had the technician turn it on for him.
"But you have been watching." Rodney's voice was threateningly calm.
"Would you mind waiting until after Dr. Weir is done here. You might want to wait until after Ronon's done as well," John suggested
"Wait! Ronon's in on this too? I hope they're quick, I’m already on my way."
Rodney gave Zelenka his ear-piece back and continued to stomp his way to the surveillance room.
Left to herself, Catherine decided it was better to catch up on some work in the Infirmary than to wait in her room alone or follow the two and confront Sheppard. She'd have time for that later, when she’d feel mentally prepared to face him.
Elizabeth should probably have felt surprised and/or insulted to find two important members of the expedition behaving like silly teenagers caught in a ridiculous prank war – maybe if it had been anyone other than John, who had earned himself quite a reputation for pulling silly stunts in his time off, she wouldn’t have taken it as well as she was obviously taking it. She obviously knew that, when necessary, John could be depended on to act like a serious, responsible adult.
He was as serious as a grown man betting on the romantic success of a friend could be.
With said friend on his way, things were promising to get rather interesting.
She did give him a stony stare, however, before shaking her head. "John, I doubt I need to tell you how many levels of wrong this little… amusement has reached. An apology would be in order to all those affected."
John cleared his throat nervously. He felt oddly like a chided teenager and wasn’t sure he liked the direction this conversation was heading. Uncomfortable as it was, he had to admit he might have taken this a bit too far by actively ruining Rodney’s date, but he just couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
“Yeah…” he said, “I should apologize and I am sorry.” Mostly, he had to admit, about losing to Ronon and getting caught. “Knowing Dr. Spencer, she’ll have my head on a plate for this. Maybe you should appoint a new military leader in case I don’t come back from this suicidal mission.” Although, if the dear doctor knew they were being watched, one had to wonder who was pranking who in this little game.
Elizabeth refused to accept his attempt at lightening the mood, turning her attention on Ronon. Her lips pursed, she measured him from head to toe, shaking her head disapprovingly. John couldn’t say he was sorry he was no longer the object of her scrutiny.
Less than a minute later, the door opened again and the degree of annoyance alone was enough to tell him who it was.
"Now, what exactly were you up to?" Rodney sounded irritated, but not as angry as John would have expected. Then, he noticed Elizabeth was there. “Oh, hello, Dr. Weir! Please don't tell me you were in on this, too!”
She shook her head and, looking uncomfortable, excused herself. "I'll leave them to you, Rodney."
"How'd you get here so fast?" John asked in genuine surprise after the door closed behind Elizabeth, leaving him and Ronon alone with Rodney and a vaguely confused and amused Zelenka who seemed to have tagged along for the ride.
"We used the transporters."
The smile on Rodney’s lips was getting wider and more disturbing. He noticed the popcorn and pointed to it. "May I?" he asked, but didn't wait for a reply before taking a handful and eating it.
“I’m still waiting for an explanation, you know,” the scientist prompted, chewing on the popcorn.
Sighing, John admitted defeat. "We had a little bet running. I would have won, too, if Zelenka had managed to find you on time. How could you ask him to bail you out of a date and forget to tell him where you'd be?"
Zelenka looked shocked. "Rodney?"
Rodney switched on the defensive. "I did not! I just needed to check on... a... thing..."
"Rodney." Zelenka's voice was starting to take on a hint of warning.
"Really, now," John insisted. "How inconvenient, then, that he had to turn up looking for you when he did.” He was resorting to sarcasm, frustrated that Zelenka’s timing really was inconvenient as hell – too early for Rodney and too late to be of any help to John.
"That's beside the point!" Rodney snapped. "Why were you even nosing around in the first place?" he asked, jabbing his index finger into John's chest, popcorn still clutched in his hand.
"Dr. McKay, may I please return to my work?" Zelenka interrupted, checking his watch. "It has been fun watching you get riled up, but some of us do have work to do." Though his curiosity was plastered all over his face, he left without waiting for an answer.
"I really should apologize to Dr. Spencer about this, too." Dodging Rodney's finger, John headed after Zelenka, without really intending to follow through on that. He needed a bit more courage before he could face the dear doctor. Maybe after a short nap and a beer or two.
Rodney stuffed the rest of the popcorn into his mouth, chewed, swallowed and focused on Ronon. "Maybe you can give a better account."
The door shut behind John before he could hear what the big guy came up with, but he was pretty sure Ronon was safe enough.
After washing off the blood and cleaning up the glass shards off the lab floor, the cleaning lady gave little thought to the incident. Violet was a busy woman, after all, even if she generally went unnoticed around the base. First, she was needed in the Mess hall where they were always short on cleaning staff, then she had to talk with Dr. Weir about some of her job attributions – it seemed like the IOA thought a place the size of Atlantis kept itself clean and the handful of cleaning staff that had been assigned to the expedition were there just as a “friendly interface”, not really necessary at all – and thought she did good work at convincing her that there weren’t enough people to handle the mundane tasks like moping, sweeping or dusting.

Speaking of which, cleaning up the science lab was one of her least favorite activities – the place was a pigs’ sty. Brilliant minds, her ass! They could at least try not to spill coffee all over the place and eat like normal people. Take Dr. McKay’s desk – blue jelly all over the keyboard, crumbs on and under the desk, a dark coffee ring on the top page of whatever document he had been working on and at least five coffee mugs stashed behind his monitor. This was the sort of stuff she had to deal with on a daily basis and no one thought twice about it.

Now, Dr. Zelenka’s desk was a dream to work with – a bit of dust, two coffee mugs (one still half-full and neatly placed at a reasonable distance from the keyboard) and no food scraps in sight. The man himself wasn’t bad either. In fact, compared to his colleague, he was the very image of chivalry and politeness, never causing her any trouble.

By the time she was done with her work for the day, it was already late in the evening, but she still found her friend Stephanie working at the Infirmary. After a day stuck doing paperwork, the nurse was more than grateful for the cup of coffee and the chance to exchange some gossip. Even transported to a different galaxy, there were some things women could never let go of and they made life seem more normal for everyone.

As a matter of fact, Stephanie was the one to notice the little cut on her finger. She must have caught it in a shard from that blasted test tube that morning, but it was almost healed already, so neither paid much attention to it. Least of all when John Sheppard walked in, looking for Dr. Spencer and looking rather relieved when he didn’t find her. This got the two women started on a long running debate concerning how good of a match the Colonel would make with the young doctor – it was one of the few things that got the two friends arguing from opposite corners.

John honestly intended to apologize to Dr. Spencer for ruining her romantic evening. As a matter of fact, he even looked for her in the Infirmary, so no one could blame him for not trying.

No one – except for the little, traitorous voice inside his head that continued to nag him through the night, telling him he didn’t actually do his best to find her and talk to her. That, and an inexplicable need to find out if she actually knew he was watching her as she kissed Rodney, made him look for her again the next day. This time, he decided to start with her room – taking into account the early hour, it was most likely to find her still sleeping. This presented a serious advantage: a sleepy woman was less dangerous than a tired, grumpy one - or at least he liked to think so.

After knocking for the fourth time on her door without any answer, he decided she either wasn’t there or didn’t want to see him at all. Either way, there was no point for him to insist any further, so he headed for her small laboratory, knowing she couldn’t possibly be there at that hour.

To his utter surprise, the lights of the small lab were up and, by the noises inside, he could tell that someone was there.

“Dr. Spencer?” he called. There was no answer, but, suddenly, the noises stopped, so he tried again. “May I come in?”

Again, no answer. It looked like the dear doctor had decided to make things even harder for him and the thought made him frown in sheer annoyance.

“Dr. Spencer?” he tried again, waving his hand in front of the panel. The door opened with a swoosh and he entered the lab, feeling a bit uneasy for coming in uninvited.

There she was - sitting on a chair, with her face hidden behind her hands, looking like she hadn’t even heard him. He moved closer to her and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

“Dr. Spencer, are you all right?” he asked her, annoyance replaced by worry.

She took a deep breath before turning to him. She looked exhausted and disoriented, like she was having trouble in recognizing him.

“Colonel Sheppard,” she finally said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He removed his hand from her shoulder and continued to look at her. Something was definitely wrong, John thought, but it took him a few moments to figure it out. He expected her to be mad with him after the whole story of him ruining her date – but, instead of angry, she looked rather relieved to see him.

“What happened, Colonel?”

“Nothing. I’m here to apologize for yesterday. I would have come sooner, but I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me.”

“I see. For a moment, I thought... never mind.”

She turned back to her microscope, leaving him rather confused. He wanted to know what was troubling her, but he didn’t feel like insisting, so he asked the first thing that came through his mind.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m just very tired... I tried to sleep, but it looks like sleep is avoiding me. And I’m not entirely sure, but one of the test-tubes seems to be missing. That’s strange since I don’t normally misplace stuff, especially not deadly pathogens.”

John hoped she was kidding, but she certainly didn’t look like it. There was also the chance she was too tired to remember where she last put it and there was a simple solution for that. “How about we go have some coffee?” he offered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you asking me out, Colonel?” There was no annoyance in her voice, just plain exhaustion.

“Merely a peace offering,” he assured her and he finally realized what felt so off about her – she was burning up. She was radiating heat even through her clothes. This was more than a bad night’s sleep. “Or maybe I should get you some hot tea. You’re burning up.”

She absently reached up and touched her own forehead. “Shit!” She stood up, clenching a hand in his sleeve. “I need to get to the Infirmary and run a complete scan.”

“For what?” He was worried. Before she could enlighten him, her knees wobbled and gave under her. Thank God for quick reflexes, as he caught her before she lost her balance completely and sat her back in her chair, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Take it easy.”

“You don’t understand! You have to get out of here. I might be-“ Her phrase was cut off by the blaring of alarms and, before they had time to react, the doors sealed shut.

Alone in the surveillance room, Rodney was just checking that everything was back online and functioning when an alert popped up on the screen. Apparently one of the sensors had been inactive since before John played around with them since worrying red dots appeared all over the map of the city.
From here he could also see all access areas closing down and isolating the affected zones. It didn't take long to recognize Atlantis' built in quarantine system.
What surprised him was that he didn’t show on the screen.
Out of reflex, he touched his forehead with his hand. It wasn't exactly a fever. He'd been under a lot of pressure that evening and he'd done some running – that must have been it.
He reached for the spare radio which was usually there and called Dr Weir. "Elizabeth? I think we may have a problem. The City's initiated lockdown"
Authors Notes: So, it looks like this is getting a complete rewrite. The first four chapters, at least. The rest, will mostly get edited for typos and odd grammar. Stick around and don’t forget to review ^__^