(no subject)
New fic!
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: 65k, 11800 words, however you want to count it. Set before season 2. Thanks, merryish and kaneko, for beta. :)
"Very clever and clearly erroneous deduction, Major Sheppard. Congratulations, you're ready to come be part of the science team."
"Thanks, I think I'll pass on that," Sheppard said dryly. "So can you fix this or what?"
"I think it's safe to assume that there's a way to fix it."
"And by that you mean, yes?"
Day Break Pt 1, by giddygeek
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up, climbed out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom without quite opening his eyes. "Shower, shower, shower," he said, and he fumbled for the controls with one hand as he peed. It was all about economy of time, really. If you didn't stop long enough to ever really fall asleep and waking up was all about getting to the coffee before Zelenka had gotten to the dregs, you could save the universe ten times before breakfast.
"Breakfast," he said as the water from the four shower heads beat down on his shoulders. The Ancients could have left things a little better labeled when they left, but sometimes, like when he was in one of their marvelous, marvelous showers, Rodney was inclined to forgive them. "Eggs." He sighed mournfully, jerked off fast and rough because there wasn't time for anything else, and was half in his clothes before the shower heads had even stopped dripping.
He grabbed his laptop, grabbed his other laptop, and headed for the conference room. "Coffee," he said. Zelenka looked at him, sighed a little, and handed over a tin mug. Rodney drained it in three gulps, winced at the harsh flavor of it--Zelenka could never be convinced to add sugar and cream--and sat down. He opened one laptop, then the other, and then looked up.
"Well," he said to Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe is in fact made of Jell-O, raw sewage pumped into the ocean will float to the sky, and the continent is over-populated with sea monkeys. I'm hoping you were trying to make me laugh. I'm hoping that none of you actually intended to pass off these reports as science when they are clearly punch lines."
Mauriten's lower lip trembled. "Dr. McKay," he said, sounding desperate, "I really, I don't--I swear I double-checked all--"
Zelenka leaned forward and nodded at Mauriten. "Yes, yes," he said. "It is clear, you have done well, Dr. McKay merely wishes to call, ah, small errors to your attention. Remember that sea monkeys quite typically live in the sea, and everything will be fine." He patted Mauriten's hand briefly, still nodding, and Mauriten nodded back, looking grateful for the moment of mercy.
Rodney rolled his eyes but it was true, the guy wasn't even that far off. The little shrimpie things really did look like sea monkeys, except for the claws and wings and silky tails. But spotting three on an entire continent did not quite equal vast over-population. "Go," he said, pointing at the door. "Go back to the continent, and see if you can bring back better statistics. Can you do that? Are you sure? Do I need one of the Athosian kids to show you how to count? Good."
"You," Rodney said to Paull, who snapped to almost military attention. "Remember the basic rules of gravity--I can't believe I just had to remind one of this team of gravity--and if they change abruptly, so that things we pump out drop upwards, I will let you know."
"It is unlikely," Zelenka said. "Gravity appears constant. If you like, I have books. Many describe this force in terms you will comprehend."
"I haven't been sleeping well," Paull said, and Rodney looked at Zelenka. Paull was generally a good scientist, one of the best on the team, quiet and efficient and unshakeable, which was the reason her errors were so disappointing. "It's no excuse, but I--"
"It is an excuse," Rodney said, a little more gently. "It's an excuse, and it's a bad one. If you're not sleeping, you need to let someone know before you, oh, mess up a calculation and rain raw sewage down upon our heads."
"You will go to Dr. Beckett," Zelenka said. "You will go now. Then you will nap, and when you are refreshed, you will come to my lab and I will work with you until I am, what is the word, reassured."
Paull nodded. She still wasn't looking at either of them, gazing into the air between them instead, which ticked Rodney right off. He wasn't going to have his team picking up bad military habits, like pretending you heard and would obey when secretly you had heard and were thinking about rebelling. "Paull," he said. "You look like hell, and if you don't look better in twenty-four hours, you'll be out on the continent with Mauriten. You don't want that, do you? He'll have you counting leaves, Paull. Leaves. It'll be relaxing. Look at me and tell me that's what you'd rather be doing."
Paull looked at him, and then sighed and nodded. "I'd rather chew glass," she said, and Rodney nodded. So would he. So would everyone. Mauriten was a bore.
"And, best for last, Dr. Kavanagh." Rodney leaned forward over the table, and Kavanagh looked him right in the eye. "Dr. Kavanagh, I've been meaning to ask, do you remember what it was that I saw in your work when I asked you to join this team? Was it perhaps the comic relief? Was I hoping for your brilliant Bill Cosby impersonation to shake up our weary, humorless lives?"
"You saw the best physicist the SGC had," Kavanagh said.
Zelenka chuckled. "Ah, yes. Well, I had been wondering, why is universe red and squishy? Is that a slice of apple in orbit around sun? Yes! Relief! The best physicist has explained all!"
"Jell-O," Rodney said. "Jell-O, Dr. Kavanagh. What's next, oceans of Kool-Aid? That's not snow, that's vanilla ice cream?"
Kavanagh sneered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd--"
"Reduced to fat jokes," Rodney told Zelenka. "And he doesn't even tell them with a funny voice."
Zelenka nodded somberly. "It is a very poor impersonation. Lieutenant Ford's Madonna is far superior."
"Maybe if you wear a joker's hat," Rodney said. "You know, with the bells."
"Dunce cap," Zelenka said.
"Ah, how fitting. We'll have to see if we can have the Athosians make one large enough. In the meantime--really, Kavanagh. I expect better of you."
Kavanagh looked like a fish, opening and closing his mouth in what was probably an attempt to get a word in edgewise. "You should loosen the ponytail," Rodney told him. "Now, go. Dr. Weir will be here for a meeting in a few moments, and I don't want her to ask any of you a question you couldn't answer, like 'what color is the sky' or 'which way is down'."
Mauriten and Paull looked at each other, looked at Kavanagh, and turned to go. Kavanagh ignored them, leaned forward with his hands on the table, and quietly said, "I hope you get off on this, McKay. That'll make it more fun when the tables are turned and you're revealed for the moron that you are."
Rodney sighed. "If only I were. I'd be the happiest man alive. Now go before I get bored of this discussion."
Kavanagh glared, then pushed himself away from the table and said, "I'm done here," and swaggered off with as much stiff, forced nonchalance as one man could possibly fake.
"Can you believe him?" Rodney asked Zelenka. "He's done here, like it was his discussion. Ha!"
Zelenka was frowning, staring off towards the doors. "And we will never get him to wear the cap."
~~~~~
Ford brought muffins to Rodney's next meeting, the briefing on their L3M-295 mission. "Dantano," he said. "Tastes kind of like blueberry."
Rodney was already half through one by the time Ford finished his sentence. "Blueberry," he said dreamily, his eyes closed and his mouth full. "Hey--"
"You're not allergic to dantano," John said. He sat down across from Rodney, who could feel him staring. "Do you ever chew?"
"I had to straighten out the idiots this morning." Rodney shoved the last of the muffin into his mouth and opened his eyes to stare at John and yes, he did chew, thank you. "I missed breakfast; I'm starving to death. And I tell you, Mauriten makes one more stupid mistake and I want him fed to his stupid sea monkeys."
"The sea monkeys? I think they eat flowers," Ford said doubtfully.
"Nothing in this galaxy eats flowers, Lieutenant. It's all carnivores and Venus fly traps." Rodney started unwrapping a second muffin. "Just means there's more dantano for us. Which of the carnivores are going to try to kill us tomorrow, Teyla?"
Teyla smiled at him. "The people of Arculageo are very kind, Dr. McKay. You will most certainly enjoy your visit there."
Everyone stared at her. "Ford?" John asked.
"Sir?"
"How much kindness are we prepared to withstand?"
Ford grinned. "Lots, sir."
"Good. And the animals of Arculageo, Teyla? Any big, toothy sea monkeys?"
Teyla shook her head. "They raise some cattle, and there are herds of a peaceful grazer called zendo, but few large animals and almost no predators."
"Ford? How many zendo are we prepared to withstand?"
"Depends on how kind the Arculeo-ians?--are, sir."
Rodney finished the second muffin. "Are the zendo edible?" he asked through a sip of coffee.
"Almost everything is edible if prepared correctly," Teyla said.
"So, no," Rodney said.
"But we'll eat 'em anyway." John smirked at him and Rodney smirked back.
"Some of us don't have delicate stomachs, true enough."
"Yeah, and some of us don't need a tester, McKay. You know Johnson's terrified that you're gonna really piss someone off and get him poisoned?"
"Johnson tasted one thing for me," Rodney said. "And it was a damn good thing too because I could've died."
"It was the mess' new version of hot chocolate, Rodney."
"Exactly."
Elizabeth coughed. "And if we're ready to go back to the business at hand?"
"You spoil our fun," Rodney told her, and they settled down to listen to Teyla's description of people whose idea of a good time really was watching paint dry.
~~~~~
After the briefing, Rodney grabbed lunch--hopefully the zendo would be more tasty than whatever mystery meat was being served in the sandwiches--and finally, finally headed off for the labs. He was in a warm, cheery good mood, and the techs could tell as soon as he walked in. They all ran away as fast as they could go.
He settled down at his favorite station and put down his laptops, and said to Zelenka, "Next time, can I be the bad cop?"
Zelenka peered at him over the top of his glasses. "You misunderstand," he said. "You are already bad cop."
"The bad cop is the nice one who lets people think they're going to get away with stuff," Rodney said. "The good cop is the voice of righteousness!"
Zelenka sighed. "When I have more knowledge of pop culture than Americans, things are very bad," he said.
"I'm Canadian."
"Canadian, American." Zelenka waved his hand. "Do I care?"
"Their national sport is baseball," Rodney said, and that alone was fuel enough for a lecture, but Zelenka had turned his back and was ostentatiously not listening. "Radek! Baseball!"
"Keep your assigned role," Zelenka said. "I could not possibly hope to be, ah, as good a cop as you."
"Hmph." Rodney glared at the back of Zelenka's head. "If you insist," he said.
"Play with device I left you," Zelenka said. "I insist. You will like it. It has buttons."
Rodney eyed him, suspicious. "Did you check to make sure it wasn't going to blow up first?"
"Yes."
"Light me on fire?"
"Yes."
"Did you check to make sure that it--"
"Rodney." Zelenka looked over his shoulder. "You would prefer I have someone else discover its function?"
Rodney picked up the little rectangle and cradled it protectively. "No." He was generous, but not that generous. If he'd been able to have his way, he'd be the only one to touch anything, ever.
The new device was small, and slim, and had two buttons. One was blue and circular, the other was green and shaped like an isosceles triangle, point edging backwards. "Hmm," he said. It fit into his hand in a familiar way. "It looks like a remote control."
"This is why I saved it for you," Zelenka said.
"But what kind of people only have play and rewind?"
Zelenka sighed. "The kind of people who build flying cities and puddle jumpers and stargates but not tea kettles. Now, shut up. Some of us work here."
Rodney shut up. With any luck, this would be the device that was the key to recharging a ZPM, but Rodney almost hoped it was a remote. He'd love to press a button and have the huge flat monitors convert instantly to the Ancient version of television. They were a civilized people. Surely they'd had something like hockey.
He checked to make sure that Zelenka was at the proper distance--close enough to see if the new technology was doing something awful to him, far enough away to probably be out of range and therefore available to call for help. Then he pressed the blue circle button.
Nothing.
"Huh," he said, and pressed the backward triangle.
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up, climbed out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom without quite opening his eyes. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," he said, but there was peeing and showering to get through first. Maybe there was a way to set a coffee maker next to his bed, on a timer, so that coffee could be fresh and steaming the moment he opened his eyes. Just like home.
"Coffee," he said as the water from the four shower heads beat down on his shoulders. "Coffee and pancakes." He sighed and shook his head. The best thing he'd have all day was this shower, with a steaming cup of the weak, weak coffee everyone brewed coming in second. If he had the time, he'd show them all a thing or two about making coffee, but he didn't even have the time to enjoy jerking off in the shower.
He sighed again and took care of himself quickly, biting his lower lip, tilting his head back so the water slid down his chest smooth as a caress, and when he was done, he stumbled out of the shower and into his clothes before his hair had stopped dripping.
He grabbed his laptop, grabbed his other laptop, hesitated, put down the second laptop and grabbed the other other one. Then he headed for the conference room, ignoring the occasional 'Good morning, Dr. McKay,' and 'Could you--' as he went. If he stopped, if he stopped for three seconds, the whole flow of the day would be lost and the sun would implode. Probably. It was going to be that kind of day in that kind of galaxy, he could already tell.
"Coffee," he said, then stole the mug that was set in front of Zelenka, and drained it in three gulps. It was godawful, but better than nothing. "Thanks," he said to Zelenka, who sighed at him, and then he sat down. He opened one laptop, opened the other laptop, studied the screens, and then looked up.
"Well," he said to Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe is in fact made of blue cheese, raw sewage pumped into the ocean will instantly form glaciers, and the continent is facing a severe shortage of sea monkeys. I'm hoping you were trying to make me laugh. I'm hoping that none of you actually intended to pass off these reports as science when they are clearly pranks."
The door to the conference room opened just as Mauriten's lower lip was beginning to quiver. Sheppard poked his head in, then nodded. "Sorry to spoil your fun, Dr. McKay," he said, "but could I speak to you for a couple minutes?"
Rodney frowned at him. Sheppard looked even more disheveled than he usually did. His shirt was creased, and his hair was very nearly flat. "Briefing. One hour," he said. "It'll wait. Now, Kavanagh--"
"It won't wait," Sheppard said. He was smiling. It wasn't any more forced than normal, but it still made Rodney hesitate. Then he said, "Please," and Rodney got up and followed him out into the hallway.
"What?" he snapped when the door had closed behind them. "What is it? Emergency? Mystery? Drama that cannot wait an hour?" He took a step backwards. "Oh, please don't tell me the Athosian women are fighting over who gets to bear your first child."
Sheppard frowned at him. "Hey. Is that your idea of emergency, mystery, or drama? Wait--don't answer that." He leaned closer. "Rodney. It's yesterday."
Rodney frowned back. "What about yesterday?"
"Today is still yesterday," Sheppard said, and then he shook his head. "Or yesterday was today. I haven't decided which yet."
"Did you go swimming off the South Pier again?" Rodney put the back of his hand against Sheppard's forehead. "You know that makes you hallucinate." No fever. He grabbed Sheppard's wrist and checked his pulse. "We have a briefing in an hour, and I'm not going to ask Elizabeth to reschedule just because you're high," he said.
John was trying to pull his wrist free. "You seriously haven't noticed? C'mon, McKay! Yesterday was punish the idiots day!"
Rodney dropped Sheppard's wrist, then crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. No fever, and his pulse was steady, but Sheppard's eyes were a little wild, and his hair was definitely flat. Rodney sighed. "I'll reschedule the briefing," he said. Stop for three seconds and the sun would implode or your teammates would come to you when they were high or the Wraith would attack. It was just the way the galaxy worked.
Sheppard wasn't going anywhere, was staring at Rodney with his mouth gaping open. Rodney sighed again, uncrossed his arms, turned Sheppard in the right direction and shoved. "Go," he said. "Sleep. Wake up when you're sane again, and we'll have the briefing then. Okay? All right? Can I go back to my meeting now? Zelenka's going to drink my coffee if I don't."
"Yeah," Sheppard said, and he walked away slowly, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe that's not a bad idea. I'll, uh. I'll let you know, I guess. If I wake up sane."
"Very good," Rodney said, making little shooing motions. "Thank you. Nice talking to you. Very interesting conversation. Goodbye."
Sheppard waved over his shoulder, then turned the corner. Rodney stayed in the hallway a moment more, shaking his head--what was Sheppard thinking? What if the water off the South Pier was toxic?--and then walked back into his meeting.
"Coffee," he said, and stole Zelenka's mug again.
~~~~~
Back at the labs, he sat at his counter, scowling at his laptop. He wasn't getting any work done and he knew it. There were a couple hours to kill before the rescheduled briefing, and plenty to be done--he should be celebrating alone time in the lab by plowing through the piles of reports he'd been ignoring for two days. Instead, he was worrying about Sheppard.
The last time he'd gone swimming off the South Pier, he hadn't been quite so incoherent. Rodney wondered if repeated exposure heightened the effects of whatever it was in the water there. He wondered if maybe it was sunstroke. Mental collapse. Brain tumor. Manly hunger. Brain tumor.
He tapped his comm. "Major Sheppard? Hey. Major Sheppard."
"What, Rodney."
"You're not dying of a brain tumor, are you? Some undiagnosed medical condition? Freak exposure to--you know, you've been around a lot of nuclear explosions lately. Not to mention the Genii bunker. And the South Pier."
"Your concern is overwhelming," Sheppard said dryly. "No. I'm fine."
Rodney hesitated. How did one ask a crazy man delicate questions? He couldn't even ask sane people delicate questions. "Is it still yesterday?"
"It could be," Sheppard said. "We talked, what, forty-five minutes ago? It's probably still yesterday, then. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"If you're sure you're not going to have a hemorrhage and die," Rodney said. "Then I suppose."
"Thanks," John said, and Rodney sighed, turned off the comm, stared at his laptop some more.
He tapped his comm. "Major Sheppard?"
"What?"
"Uh. Just, uh checking." He turned the comm back off and sat, then pushed back from the table. If he couldn't think coherently, he could at least touch stuff. Worst case scenario, he spent a couple hours sorting things into piles of stuff that turned on, stuff that might turn on for Sheppard, and stuff that might blow up if turned on by anyone.
The third pile was really, really large when he came across the Ancient remote control. "Hello," he said. It looked harmless, unlike the thing with spikes, and uncomplicated, unlike the thing that looked to be a cross between a fork, a kazoo, and an antelope. One round blue button, one backwards green triangle. He put it in the pile of stuff he was going to try to turn on when Zelenka got back to the lab--that was the rule, no one worked on unknown Ancient technology alone anymore, not after what had happened to Miko, whose hair might never grow normally again. He went back to work sorting.
Two minutes later he was holding the remote. The idea of Ancient television had irresistible appeal. They were a civilized people; they probably had porn.
He looked around the lab, uneasy. Zelenka wasn't due back for probably ten, fifteen minutes. The Major was off having some sort of inexplicable nervous collapse. No one else was--well, frankly, no one else was good enough to watch his back. But the remote didn't look dangerous. It didn't feel dangerous either, which was why the thing that looked like an innocent golf ball had gone into the blowing up pile. Rodney had learned to trust his instincts when it came to bad tech vibes.
"Just this once," he said. He screwed his eyes shut, then opened one a little to peek, and pressed the blue button.
Nothing.
"Huh," he said. "Okay. Just this twice," and he touched the green triangle.
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up too tired to get out of bed. This was not an infrequent occurrence and he' d discovered that the only thing to do about it was get up anyway. "Nap later," he promised his body as he dragged himself up and stumbled into the shower, but he knew he wouldn't do it. He'd forget and be too busy and drink a lot of caffeine and go to sleep way too late and way too tired to be rested in the morning. The way he figured it, he was working on 15, 20 years of sleep deprivation.
"Sleeeeeep," he said as he slumped against the wall of the shower. "Sleep sleep sleep sleep." But it was punish the idiots day, and he only had fifteen minutes. He wasted a couple of them with a power nap that almost became his doom when he shifted and his foot skidded across the slick wet tile, and wasted minutes meant no time for jerking off, and jerking off was part of the morning ritual. The whole day was going to be a disaster, he just knew it. He groaned and turned off the shower and got into his clothes while composing a mental list of all the things that were going to go wrong.
He grabbed his laptops and opened the door, and ran right into Major Sheppard. It was very unfair. That hadn't even been on the list.
"Good morning, Rodney," Sheppard said. "Mind if I stick with you today?"
Rodney eyed him suspiciously. His hair was flat, his eyes were shadowed and wild, and he was smiling like his face was about to break. "Yes," he said. "Something's wrong with you, and I don't want to catch it."
"Oh, if only you would," Sheppard said, and Rodney took a step back. Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm not contagious. It's just that something weird is going on, and since you're the normal epicenter of weird--"
"I am not," Rodney said. "You're the one who makes things weird. I just happen to be around a lot when you do."
Sheppard smiled. "Then I should follow you around so you can keep an eye on me."
"Hmph." Rodney eyed him. The Major had that look of steely determination going. It could easily be mistaken for his look of flat boredom, but the smile was slightly more dangerous. Rodney weighed the pros and cons of going against that look--pros: fun, cons: he'd lose--and said, "Fine, but it's idiots day, and you're not allowed to interrupt." He brushed past Sheppard and headed down the hall.
"I always wanted to know what punish the idiots day was like," Sheppard said, trailing him. "I figured it'd be like a normal day off-world, but directed at other people for once."
"Oh, if only you aspired to half these levels of idiocy, Major," Rodney said. "On your worst day, you're only a tenth the moron Mauriten is. Of course, on your best day you're only a tenth the genius I am, so it balances out for you."
"Thanks, McKay," Sheppard said, and Rodney turned his head, surprised. It had sounded like the Major meant it. Sheppard smiled at him, and it wasn't nearly as brittle as it had been before. He'd heard the compliment after all. It wasn't a surprise--he really wasn't stupid--but Rodney hated it when he slipped like that.
He scowled to make up for it. "Yes, well, don't let it go to your head," and stomped into the conference room. "Coffee?" he asked, and stole Zelenka's mug. He sat down and opened the laptops while Zelenka grumbled at him in Czech, and Sheppard settled himself, lounging in the chair next to him. Chairs less meant for lounging had never been built, but something about Sheppard made standing at attention look like a slouch.
Rodney studied his screens and pondered where he would begin. Mauriten was so easy, and it was always good to build up to things like Kavanagh, but Paull didn't really deserve too much abuse, she just needed to be shown what the consequences of shoddy workmanship were besides horrible smelly death, and with the Major there, the temptation to show off a little was overwhelming.
"Well," he said to the three scientists standing across from him, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe does not actually exist anymore--what happened, Kavanagh, did the langoliers eat it?--raw sewage pumped into the ocean will come to life and do an entertaining tap number for us, and the sea monkeys on the continent will soon be evolved enough for strip malls. I hope these reports are pranks. I hope it's actually my birthday, and you are the clowns Elizabeth hired for my party."
"Clowns," Zelenka said solemnly, "are very disturbing. We do not need them; we have Wraith. I am certain that laptops were stolen, and reports were written by Athosian children."
"And I'm certain that you didn't even bother to read my report," Kavanagh said. He leaned forward across the desk, smirking. "Or maybe it was above your understanding?"
Rodney sighed. "Yes, as so many things are, like the color red, and potatoes, and how you got your head that far up your ass."
Kavanagh leaned forward even more, getting right into Rodney's face, and Rodney raised his eyebrows. Kavanagh was a lot of things, but intimidating wasn't one of them. Sheppard shifted anyway, the lounging becoming something else, almost a warning; Kavanagh looked at him and laughed. "What, McKay, you had to bring your boyfriend for backup?"
Rodney said, "No. I brought him because he's pretty. You, Kavanagh--right now, I can't even figure out why I brought you to this galaxy. Get out of my sight before I have you demoted to washing dishes and windows and my laundry."
Kavanagh stared at him, and Rodney held it. He could see Sheppard lounging and bristling at the same time, and was aware of Zelenka quietly assigning punishments to Mauriten and Paull, but he didn't lose focus. "You're not actually a bad scientist," he said, after a while. "In fact, there really are reasons why I wanted you here. But you've got an attitude problem, and the difference between yours and mine is that you're not in charge here. Now, seriously, go away and think about what the hell you're doing. Come back when you can show me you're capable of working with this team."
Kavanagh pushed back from the table. "I'll be reporting this conversation to Dr. Weir," he said stiffly. "For all the good it'll do me. She's twice the arrogant fool you are."
Rodney watched him go, then frowned at Mauriten and Paull until they took the hint and followed him, clearly grateful to escape.
"Am I wrong, or was that actually a touching, conciliatory moment?" Sheppard asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zelenka coughed, then closed his laptop and stole his cup back. "We have them, sometimes," he said dryly. "Rodney is almost nice, Kavanagh is almost human. For a few days, work will go well. Then Kavanagh will rebel again, and Rodney will yell again, and life will be normal. Is fine entertainment. We all enjoy it."
Rodney nodded. "It's a routine," he said. "Everyone needs routine, this far from home. And hey, we blow off some steam. Which speaking of--is there more coffee?"
Zelenka grabbed his laptop, clutched his cup close to his chest, and shook his head. "No more for you," he said sternly on his way out the door. "Steal from someone else. Bring some with you when you come back to the lab, I am not making any."
"Liar," Rodney called after him, and then he sat back in his chair, frowning over his laptops. Zelenka would too be making more coffee, he was just so selfish that he wouldn't share--
"So," Sheppard said thoughtfully, and Rodney looked up to find him grinning. "You really think I'm pretty?"
"Oh, hell," he said, and Ford came into the room with a cheery smile, muffins, and salvation.
~~~~~
The briefing about L3M-295 was long, boring, long, tedious, long, and Sheppard stared thoughtfully at him the whole time. As soon as it was over, Rodney shut down his laptops and headed for the door, hoping against hope that Elizabeth would need Sheppard to stay behind, but the Major followed after him and trailed him all the way to the labs.
"I have work," he said as he set up at his station. "Important work. Lots of important work, nothing else to see here, you should move right along."
"No," Sheppard said, and he sat down at one of the other stations. There was a pile of devices awaiting sorting, cataloguing, and study and he sifted through them casually. "Are there any of these that I shouldn't touch?" he asked as he touched all of them, and Rodney rolled his eyes.
Zelenka looked up from his work. "I am surprised to see you, Major," he said. "More surprised that you were not dragged in. Is something the matter?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Sheppard said, recklessly touching stuff, sorting it into piles of what would light up and what wouldn't. The only thing that prevented him from exploding things on a daily basis was pure blind luck, Rodney had decided, and maybe the city's love for people with the gene. Sheppard fished a sleek grey rectangle out of the rapidly diminishing stack of uncatalogued devices. "Hey, this looks like a remote control."
Zelenka nodded. "Yes, yes, my thoughts exactly. Can you make it work?"
"Haven't really missed television." Sheppard tossed the rectangle into the air and caught it again, making Rodney wince. He plucked it from Sheppard's hand and brought it back to his work station, cradling it protectively.
"Maybe you haven't, but I'd kill for a Twilight Zone marathon," he muttered. "You know, it really does look like a remote." He looked up. Sheppard and Zelenka were both out of range unless it was a neat little nuclear weapon, so he took a deep breath and pressed the blue circle at one end of the device.
Nothing. He looked up again, and Sheppard and Zelenka were watching him curiously. He put his thumb down on the green triangle and said, "They were a civilized people, surely they had--"
~~~~~
Rodney McKay slept through his alarm for a good twenty minutes, and then woke up almost too tired to turn it off, and definitely too late to take a shower unless he wanted to miss out on punishing the idiots. That would never do; Zelenka would be too mean to them if left on his own.
Someone banged on his door. He thought about not getting up to answer it, and while he was thinking, it opened.
Major Sheppard stepped into his room looking ruffled and sleep-deprived and insane, and said, "Okay, listen, at some point today you're going to touch something that starts the whole day over again, and I am here to stop you."
Rodney blinked, then scowled at him and struggled to sit up. "How do you know it's me that does it?" he asked. "It could be you. It could be Zelenka. It could, it could be one of the Athosians. You can't automatically go around blaming me for your delus--"
"I can too, because it was you yesterday." He paused, then shrugged. "Or not yesterday but earlier today. Later in the last version of today." Rodney stared at him, and Sheppard stared back. "Today has happened like three times already," he said. "It's starting to give me a headache. Get up, or you're going to be late for yelling at people."
Rodney put his head in his hands and sighed. Sheppard had a headache? Rodney wasn't even out of bed yet, and his temples were already throbbing. Too much talking before coffee. He said, "Turn around or go away. I need to get up to get to caffeine, and I didn't dress for company."
Sheppard smiled at him. "I don't mind," he said, but when Rodney just looked up, surprised, and didn't move, he sighed and turned his back.
Wary, Rodney threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and grabbed some clothes, keeping an eye on Sheppard the whole time. "Delusional," he muttered on his way into the bathroom. "Delusional, delusional, delusional." He threw a longing glance at his shower, but just peed, dressed in a hurry, brushed his teeth, washed his hands and face and went back out to find Sheppard waiting for him, looking smug.
"Don't look so suspicious, Rodney," he said. "I barely peeked."
"Do you need to see Carson?" Rodney asked. "Have you hit your head? Or, oh, I could have Dr. Height--"
"Late for the idiots," Sheppard said, tapping his watch. "You don't want to miss that, do you? I didn't think so. Let's go."
Rodney hesitated, but Sheppard was doing the steely-determination look, which was fun to go up against but there wasn't time, and besides he'd only lose. "Okay," he said reluctantly, grabbing his stuff. "But you have to promise to not be crazy for an hour or so."
"I promise," Sheppard said, looking even more smug and satisfied and insane. He stepped back and the door opened and he held out his hand, gesturing Rodney out. "After you."
"Seriously," Rodney said, edging past him carefully. "If you're going to be insane, you can't come, because--"
"I won't be any more insane than I was in the last version of today," Sheppard said.
"So not reassuring," Rodney said, and walked down the hall, feeling Sheppard's gaze on his back the whole way to the conference room. "Coffee," he said when they got there, relieved, and he reached for Zelenka's mug.
Zelenka swatted his hand away.
"Hey!"
"You have your own," Zelenka said. "Major Sheppard brought it for you before he went to get you. Say thank you to the nice man; if you had stolen mine this morning, you would now be missing fingers."
Rodney turned and looked at Sheppard, who was already lounging in one of the uncomfortable chairs, making it look like a cozy recliner. "I knew you'd need it," he said smugly, and nudged the mug forward.
"Lucky guess," Rodney said, then he sat down, opened his laptop, and took a long sip of the coffee, then made a face. "Too much cream and sugar," he said, but even that couldn't dull the happy caffeine buzz. Even looking at Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull's grim faces couldn't dull the happy buzz. They just made the anticipation stronger.
He studied the screens, rereading here and there, then shook his head and sighed. "Well," he said, leaning forward. "Congratulations, you've broken the universe, created a golem made of refuse, and developed a new species of sea monkey. Would any of you like to tell me why?"
"Maybe they're running another experiment," Sheppard said. "One where they find out just where your breaking point is."
Rodney turned to scowl at him. Sheppard smiled back, all raised eyebrows and dark circles under his eyes."I said you could come to the meeting, I didn't say you could talk."
"Why is he at the meeting?" Kavanagh asked. Rodney opened his mouth to flay him with an insult that would have him quaking in his sneakers, his hair wisping from the too-tight ponytail, his bulgy eyes watering--
And Sheppard said, "I'm here because Rodney thinks I'm pretty."
Things went rapidly downhill from there.
~~~~~
Day Break, Pt 2
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: 65k, 11800 words, however you want to count it. Set before season 2. Thanks, merryish and kaneko, for beta. :)
"Very clever and clearly erroneous deduction, Major Sheppard. Congratulations, you're ready to come be part of the science team."
"Thanks, I think I'll pass on that," Sheppard said dryly. "So can you fix this or what?"
"I think it's safe to assume that there's a way to fix it."
"And by that you mean, yes?"
Day Break Pt 1, by giddygeek
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up, climbed out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom without quite opening his eyes. "Shower, shower, shower," he said, and he fumbled for the controls with one hand as he peed. It was all about economy of time, really. If you didn't stop long enough to ever really fall asleep and waking up was all about getting to the coffee before Zelenka had gotten to the dregs, you could save the universe ten times before breakfast.
"Breakfast," he said as the water from the four shower heads beat down on his shoulders. The Ancients could have left things a little better labeled when they left, but sometimes, like when he was in one of their marvelous, marvelous showers, Rodney was inclined to forgive them. "Eggs." He sighed mournfully, jerked off fast and rough because there wasn't time for anything else, and was half in his clothes before the shower heads had even stopped dripping.
He grabbed his laptop, grabbed his other laptop, and headed for the conference room. "Coffee," he said. Zelenka looked at him, sighed a little, and handed over a tin mug. Rodney drained it in three gulps, winced at the harsh flavor of it--Zelenka could never be convinced to add sugar and cream--and sat down. He opened one laptop, then the other, and then looked up.
"Well," he said to Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe is in fact made of Jell-O, raw sewage pumped into the ocean will float to the sky, and the continent is over-populated with sea monkeys. I'm hoping you were trying to make me laugh. I'm hoping that none of you actually intended to pass off these reports as science when they are clearly punch lines."
Mauriten's lower lip trembled. "Dr. McKay," he said, sounding desperate, "I really, I don't--I swear I double-checked all--"
Zelenka leaned forward and nodded at Mauriten. "Yes, yes," he said. "It is clear, you have done well, Dr. McKay merely wishes to call, ah, small errors to your attention. Remember that sea monkeys quite typically live in the sea, and everything will be fine." He patted Mauriten's hand briefly, still nodding, and Mauriten nodded back, looking grateful for the moment of mercy.
Rodney rolled his eyes but it was true, the guy wasn't even that far off. The little shrimpie things really did look like sea monkeys, except for the claws and wings and silky tails. But spotting three on an entire continent did not quite equal vast over-population. "Go," he said, pointing at the door. "Go back to the continent, and see if you can bring back better statistics. Can you do that? Are you sure? Do I need one of the Athosian kids to show you how to count? Good."
"You," Rodney said to Paull, who snapped to almost military attention. "Remember the basic rules of gravity--I can't believe I just had to remind one of this team of gravity--and if they change abruptly, so that things we pump out drop upwards, I will let you know."
"It is unlikely," Zelenka said. "Gravity appears constant. If you like, I have books. Many describe this force in terms you will comprehend."
"I haven't been sleeping well," Paull said, and Rodney looked at Zelenka. Paull was generally a good scientist, one of the best on the team, quiet and efficient and unshakeable, which was the reason her errors were so disappointing. "It's no excuse, but I--"
"It is an excuse," Rodney said, a little more gently. "It's an excuse, and it's a bad one. If you're not sleeping, you need to let someone know before you, oh, mess up a calculation and rain raw sewage down upon our heads."
"You will go to Dr. Beckett," Zelenka said. "You will go now. Then you will nap, and when you are refreshed, you will come to my lab and I will work with you until I am, what is the word, reassured."
Paull nodded. She still wasn't looking at either of them, gazing into the air between them instead, which ticked Rodney right off. He wasn't going to have his team picking up bad military habits, like pretending you heard and would obey when secretly you had heard and were thinking about rebelling. "Paull," he said. "You look like hell, and if you don't look better in twenty-four hours, you'll be out on the continent with Mauriten. You don't want that, do you? He'll have you counting leaves, Paull. Leaves. It'll be relaxing. Look at me and tell me that's what you'd rather be doing."
Paull looked at him, and then sighed and nodded. "I'd rather chew glass," she said, and Rodney nodded. So would he. So would everyone. Mauriten was a bore.
"And, best for last, Dr. Kavanagh." Rodney leaned forward over the table, and Kavanagh looked him right in the eye. "Dr. Kavanagh, I've been meaning to ask, do you remember what it was that I saw in your work when I asked you to join this team? Was it perhaps the comic relief? Was I hoping for your brilliant Bill Cosby impersonation to shake up our weary, humorless lives?"
"You saw the best physicist the SGC had," Kavanagh said.
Zelenka chuckled. "Ah, yes. Well, I had been wondering, why is universe red and squishy? Is that a slice of apple in orbit around sun? Yes! Relief! The best physicist has explained all!"
"Jell-O," Rodney said. "Jell-O, Dr. Kavanagh. What's next, oceans of Kool-Aid? That's not snow, that's vanilla ice cream?"
Kavanagh sneered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd--"
"Reduced to fat jokes," Rodney told Zelenka. "And he doesn't even tell them with a funny voice."
Zelenka nodded somberly. "It is a very poor impersonation. Lieutenant Ford's Madonna is far superior."
"Maybe if you wear a joker's hat," Rodney said. "You know, with the bells."
"Dunce cap," Zelenka said.
"Ah, how fitting. We'll have to see if we can have the Athosians make one large enough. In the meantime--really, Kavanagh. I expect better of you."
Kavanagh looked like a fish, opening and closing his mouth in what was probably an attempt to get a word in edgewise. "You should loosen the ponytail," Rodney told him. "Now, go. Dr. Weir will be here for a meeting in a few moments, and I don't want her to ask any of you a question you couldn't answer, like 'what color is the sky' or 'which way is down'."
Mauriten and Paull looked at each other, looked at Kavanagh, and turned to go. Kavanagh ignored them, leaned forward with his hands on the table, and quietly said, "I hope you get off on this, McKay. That'll make it more fun when the tables are turned and you're revealed for the moron that you are."
Rodney sighed. "If only I were. I'd be the happiest man alive. Now go before I get bored of this discussion."
Kavanagh glared, then pushed himself away from the table and said, "I'm done here," and swaggered off with as much stiff, forced nonchalance as one man could possibly fake.
"Can you believe him?" Rodney asked Zelenka. "He's done here, like it was his discussion. Ha!"
Zelenka was frowning, staring off towards the doors. "And we will never get him to wear the cap."
~~~~~
Ford brought muffins to Rodney's next meeting, the briefing on their L3M-295 mission. "Dantano," he said. "Tastes kind of like blueberry."
Rodney was already half through one by the time Ford finished his sentence. "Blueberry," he said dreamily, his eyes closed and his mouth full. "Hey--"
"You're not allergic to dantano," John said. He sat down across from Rodney, who could feel him staring. "Do you ever chew?"
"I had to straighten out the idiots this morning." Rodney shoved the last of the muffin into his mouth and opened his eyes to stare at John and yes, he did chew, thank you. "I missed breakfast; I'm starving to death. And I tell you, Mauriten makes one more stupid mistake and I want him fed to his stupid sea monkeys."
"The sea monkeys? I think they eat flowers," Ford said doubtfully.
"Nothing in this galaxy eats flowers, Lieutenant. It's all carnivores and Venus fly traps." Rodney started unwrapping a second muffin. "Just means there's more dantano for us. Which of the carnivores are going to try to kill us tomorrow, Teyla?"
Teyla smiled at him. "The people of Arculageo are very kind, Dr. McKay. You will most certainly enjoy your visit there."
Everyone stared at her. "Ford?" John asked.
"Sir?"
"How much kindness are we prepared to withstand?"
Ford grinned. "Lots, sir."
"Good. And the animals of Arculageo, Teyla? Any big, toothy sea monkeys?"
Teyla shook her head. "They raise some cattle, and there are herds of a peaceful grazer called zendo, but few large animals and almost no predators."
"Ford? How many zendo are we prepared to withstand?"
"Depends on how kind the Arculeo-ians?--are, sir."
Rodney finished the second muffin. "Are the zendo edible?" he asked through a sip of coffee.
"Almost everything is edible if prepared correctly," Teyla said.
"So, no," Rodney said.
"But we'll eat 'em anyway." John smirked at him and Rodney smirked back.
"Some of us don't have delicate stomachs, true enough."
"Yeah, and some of us don't need a tester, McKay. You know Johnson's terrified that you're gonna really piss someone off and get him poisoned?"
"Johnson tasted one thing for me," Rodney said. "And it was a damn good thing too because I could've died."
"It was the mess' new version of hot chocolate, Rodney."
"Exactly."
Elizabeth coughed. "And if we're ready to go back to the business at hand?"
"You spoil our fun," Rodney told her, and they settled down to listen to Teyla's description of people whose idea of a good time really was watching paint dry.
~~~~~
After the briefing, Rodney grabbed lunch--hopefully the zendo would be more tasty than whatever mystery meat was being served in the sandwiches--and finally, finally headed off for the labs. He was in a warm, cheery good mood, and the techs could tell as soon as he walked in. They all ran away as fast as they could go.
He settled down at his favorite station and put down his laptops, and said to Zelenka, "Next time, can I be the bad cop?"
Zelenka peered at him over the top of his glasses. "You misunderstand," he said. "You are already bad cop."
"The bad cop is the nice one who lets people think they're going to get away with stuff," Rodney said. "The good cop is the voice of righteousness!"
Zelenka sighed. "When I have more knowledge of pop culture than Americans, things are very bad," he said.
"I'm Canadian."
"Canadian, American." Zelenka waved his hand. "Do I care?"
"Their national sport is baseball," Rodney said, and that alone was fuel enough for a lecture, but Zelenka had turned his back and was ostentatiously not listening. "Radek! Baseball!"
"Keep your assigned role," Zelenka said. "I could not possibly hope to be, ah, as good a cop as you."
"Hmph." Rodney glared at the back of Zelenka's head. "If you insist," he said.
"Play with device I left you," Zelenka said. "I insist. You will like it. It has buttons."
Rodney eyed him, suspicious. "Did you check to make sure it wasn't going to blow up first?"
"Yes."
"Light me on fire?"
"Yes."
"Did you check to make sure that it--"
"Rodney." Zelenka looked over his shoulder. "You would prefer I have someone else discover its function?"
Rodney picked up the little rectangle and cradled it protectively. "No." He was generous, but not that generous. If he'd been able to have his way, he'd be the only one to touch anything, ever.
The new device was small, and slim, and had two buttons. One was blue and circular, the other was green and shaped like an isosceles triangle, point edging backwards. "Hmm," he said. It fit into his hand in a familiar way. "It looks like a remote control."
"This is why I saved it for you," Zelenka said.
"But what kind of people only have play and rewind?"
Zelenka sighed. "The kind of people who build flying cities and puddle jumpers and stargates but not tea kettles. Now, shut up. Some of us work here."
Rodney shut up. With any luck, this would be the device that was the key to recharging a ZPM, but Rodney almost hoped it was a remote. He'd love to press a button and have the huge flat monitors convert instantly to the Ancient version of television. They were a civilized people. Surely they'd had something like hockey.
He checked to make sure that Zelenka was at the proper distance--close enough to see if the new technology was doing something awful to him, far enough away to probably be out of range and therefore available to call for help. Then he pressed the blue circle button.
Nothing.
"Huh," he said, and pressed the backward triangle.
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up, climbed out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom without quite opening his eyes. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," he said, but there was peeing and showering to get through first. Maybe there was a way to set a coffee maker next to his bed, on a timer, so that coffee could be fresh and steaming the moment he opened his eyes. Just like home.
"Coffee," he said as the water from the four shower heads beat down on his shoulders. "Coffee and pancakes." He sighed and shook his head. The best thing he'd have all day was this shower, with a steaming cup of the weak, weak coffee everyone brewed coming in second. If he had the time, he'd show them all a thing or two about making coffee, but he didn't even have the time to enjoy jerking off in the shower.
He sighed again and took care of himself quickly, biting his lower lip, tilting his head back so the water slid down his chest smooth as a caress, and when he was done, he stumbled out of the shower and into his clothes before his hair had stopped dripping.
He grabbed his laptop, grabbed his other laptop, hesitated, put down the second laptop and grabbed the other other one. Then he headed for the conference room, ignoring the occasional 'Good morning, Dr. McKay,' and 'Could you--' as he went. If he stopped, if he stopped for three seconds, the whole flow of the day would be lost and the sun would implode. Probably. It was going to be that kind of day in that kind of galaxy, he could already tell.
"Coffee," he said, then stole the mug that was set in front of Zelenka, and drained it in three gulps. It was godawful, but better than nothing. "Thanks," he said to Zelenka, who sighed at him, and then he sat down. He opened one laptop, opened the other laptop, studied the screens, and then looked up.
"Well," he said to Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe is in fact made of blue cheese, raw sewage pumped into the ocean will instantly form glaciers, and the continent is facing a severe shortage of sea monkeys. I'm hoping you were trying to make me laugh. I'm hoping that none of you actually intended to pass off these reports as science when they are clearly pranks."
The door to the conference room opened just as Mauriten's lower lip was beginning to quiver. Sheppard poked his head in, then nodded. "Sorry to spoil your fun, Dr. McKay," he said, "but could I speak to you for a couple minutes?"
Rodney frowned at him. Sheppard looked even more disheveled than he usually did. His shirt was creased, and his hair was very nearly flat. "Briefing. One hour," he said. "It'll wait. Now, Kavanagh--"
"It won't wait," Sheppard said. He was smiling. It wasn't any more forced than normal, but it still made Rodney hesitate. Then he said, "Please," and Rodney got up and followed him out into the hallway.
"What?" he snapped when the door had closed behind them. "What is it? Emergency? Mystery? Drama that cannot wait an hour?" He took a step backwards. "Oh, please don't tell me the Athosian women are fighting over who gets to bear your first child."
Sheppard frowned at him. "Hey. Is that your idea of emergency, mystery, or drama? Wait--don't answer that." He leaned closer. "Rodney. It's yesterday."
Rodney frowned back. "What about yesterday?"
"Today is still yesterday," Sheppard said, and then he shook his head. "Or yesterday was today. I haven't decided which yet."
"Did you go swimming off the South Pier again?" Rodney put the back of his hand against Sheppard's forehead. "You know that makes you hallucinate." No fever. He grabbed Sheppard's wrist and checked his pulse. "We have a briefing in an hour, and I'm not going to ask Elizabeth to reschedule just because you're high," he said.
John was trying to pull his wrist free. "You seriously haven't noticed? C'mon, McKay! Yesterday was punish the idiots day!"
Rodney dropped Sheppard's wrist, then crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. No fever, and his pulse was steady, but Sheppard's eyes were a little wild, and his hair was definitely flat. Rodney sighed. "I'll reschedule the briefing," he said. Stop for three seconds and the sun would implode or your teammates would come to you when they were high or the Wraith would attack. It was just the way the galaxy worked.
Sheppard wasn't going anywhere, was staring at Rodney with his mouth gaping open. Rodney sighed again, uncrossed his arms, turned Sheppard in the right direction and shoved. "Go," he said. "Sleep. Wake up when you're sane again, and we'll have the briefing then. Okay? All right? Can I go back to my meeting now? Zelenka's going to drink my coffee if I don't."
"Yeah," Sheppard said, and he walked away slowly, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe that's not a bad idea. I'll, uh. I'll let you know, I guess. If I wake up sane."
"Very good," Rodney said, making little shooing motions. "Thank you. Nice talking to you. Very interesting conversation. Goodbye."
Sheppard waved over his shoulder, then turned the corner. Rodney stayed in the hallway a moment more, shaking his head--what was Sheppard thinking? What if the water off the South Pier was toxic?--and then walked back into his meeting.
"Coffee," he said, and stole Zelenka's mug again.
~~~~~
Back at the labs, he sat at his counter, scowling at his laptop. He wasn't getting any work done and he knew it. There were a couple hours to kill before the rescheduled briefing, and plenty to be done--he should be celebrating alone time in the lab by plowing through the piles of reports he'd been ignoring for two days. Instead, he was worrying about Sheppard.
The last time he'd gone swimming off the South Pier, he hadn't been quite so incoherent. Rodney wondered if repeated exposure heightened the effects of whatever it was in the water there. He wondered if maybe it was sunstroke. Mental collapse. Brain tumor. Manly hunger. Brain tumor.
He tapped his comm. "Major Sheppard? Hey. Major Sheppard."
"What, Rodney."
"You're not dying of a brain tumor, are you? Some undiagnosed medical condition? Freak exposure to--you know, you've been around a lot of nuclear explosions lately. Not to mention the Genii bunker. And the South Pier."
"Your concern is overwhelming," Sheppard said dryly. "No. I'm fine."
Rodney hesitated. How did one ask a crazy man delicate questions? He couldn't even ask sane people delicate questions. "Is it still yesterday?"
"It could be," Sheppard said. "We talked, what, forty-five minutes ago? It's probably still yesterday, then. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"If you're sure you're not going to have a hemorrhage and die," Rodney said. "Then I suppose."
"Thanks," John said, and Rodney sighed, turned off the comm, stared at his laptop some more.
He tapped his comm. "Major Sheppard?"
"What?"
"Uh. Just, uh checking." He turned the comm back off and sat, then pushed back from the table. If he couldn't think coherently, he could at least touch stuff. Worst case scenario, he spent a couple hours sorting things into piles of stuff that turned on, stuff that might turn on for Sheppard, and stuff that might blow up if turned on by anyone.
The third pile was really, really large when he came across the Ancient remote control. "Hello," he said. It looked harmless, unlike the thing with spikes, and uncomplicated, unlike the thing that looked to be a cross between a fork, a kazoo, and an antelope. One round blue button, one backwards green triangle. He put it in the pile of stuff he was going to try to turn on when Zelenka got back to the lab--that was the rule, no one worked on unknown Ancient technology alone anymore, not after what had happened to Miko, whose hair might never grow normally again. He went back to work sorting.
Two minutes later he was holding the remote. The idea of Ancient television had irresistible appeal. They were a civilized people; they probably had porn.
He looked around the lab, uneasy. Zelenka wasn't due back for probably ten, fifteen minutes. The Major was off having some sort of inexplicable nervous collapse. No one else was--well, frankly, no one else was good enough to watch his back. But the remote didn't look dangerous. It didn't feel dangerous either, which was why the thing that looked like an innocent golf ball had gone into the blowing up pile. Rodney had learned to trust his instincts when it came to bad tech vibes.
"Just this once," he said. He screwed his eyes shut, then opened one a little to peek, and pressed the blue button.
Nothing.
"Huh," he said. "Okay. Just this twice," and he touched the green triangle.
~~~~~
Rodney McKay woke up too tired to get out of bed. This was not an infrequent occurrence and he' d discovered that the only thing to do about it was get up anyway. "Nap later," he promised his body as he dragged himself up and stumbled into the shower, but he knew he wouldn't do it. He'd forget and be too busy and drink a lot of caffeine and go to sleep way too late and way too tired to be rested in the morning. The way he figured it, he was working on 15, 20 years of sleep deprivation.
"Sleeeeeep," he said as he slumped against the wall of the shower. "Sleep sleep sleep sleep." But it was punish the idiots day, and he only had fifteen minutes. He wasted a couple of them with a power nap that almost became his doom when he shifted and his foot skidded across the slick wet tile, and wasted minutes meant no time for jerking off, and jerking off was part of the morning ritual. The whole day was going to be a disaster, he just knew it. He groaned and turned off the shower and got into his clothes while composing a mental list of all the things that were going to go wrong.
He grabbed his laptops and opened the door, and ran right into Major Sheppard. It was very unfair. That hadn't even been on the list.
"Good morning, Rodney," Sheppard said. "Mind if I stick with you today?"
Rodney eyed him suspiciously. His hair was flat, his eyes were shadowed and wild, and he was smiling like his face was about to break. "Yes," he said. "Something's wrong with you, and I don't want to catch it."
"Oh, if only you would," Sheppard said, and Rodney took a step back. Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm not contagious. It's just that something weird is going on, and since you're the normal epicenter of weird--"
"I am not," Rodney said. "You're the one who makes things weird. I just happen to be around a lot when you do."
Sheppard smiled. "Then I should follow you around so you can keep an eye on me."
"Hmph." Rodney eyed him. The Major had that look of steely determination going. It could easily be mistaken for his look of flat boredom, but the smile was slightly more dangerous. Rodney weighed the pros and cons of going against that look--pros: fun, cons: he'd lose--and said, "Fine, but it's idiots day, and you're not allowed to interrupt." He brushed past Sheppard and headed down the hall.
"I always wanted to know what punish the idiots day was like," Sheppard said, trailing him. "I figured it'd be like a normal day off-world, but directed at other people for once."
"Oh, if only you aspired to half these levels of idiocy, Major," Rodney said. "On your worst day, you're only a tenth the moron Mauriten is. Of course, on your best day you're only a tenth the genius I am, so it balances out for you."
"Thanks, McKay," Sheppard said, and Rodney turned his head, surprised. It had sounded like the Major meant it. Sheppard smiled at him, and it wasn't nearly as brittle as it had been before. He'd heard the compliment after all. It wasn't a surprise--he really wasn't stupid--but Rodney hated it when he slipped like that.
He scowled to make up for it. "Yes, well, don't let it go to your head," and stomped into the conference room. "Coffee?" he asked, and stole Zelenka's mug. He sat down and opened the laptops while Zelenka grumbled at him in Czech, and Sheppard settled himself, lounging in the chair next to him. Chairs less meant for lounging had never been built, but something about Sheppard made standing at attention look like a slouch.
Rodney studied his screens and pondered where he would begin. Mauriten was so easy, and it was always good to build up to things like Kavanagh, but Paull didn't really deserve too much abuse, she just needed to be shown what the consequences of shoddy workmanship were besides horrible smelly death, and with the Major there, the temptation to show off a little was overwhelming.
"Well," he said to the three scientists standing across from him, "I hope you realize that your calculations have proved that the universe does not actually exist anymore--what happened, Kavanagh, did the langoliers eat it?--raw sewage pumped into the ocean will come to life and do an entertaining tap number for us, and the sea monkeys on the continent will soon be evolved enough for strip malls. I hope these reports are pranks. I hope it's actually my birthday, and you are the clowns Elizabeth hired for my party."
"Clowns," Zelenka said solemnly, "are very disturbing. We do not need them; we have Wraith. I am certain that laptops were stolen, and reports were written by Athosian children."
"And I'm certain that you didn't even bother to read my report," Kavanagh said. He leaned forward across the desk, smirking. "Or maybe it was above your understanding?"
Rodney sighed. "Yes, as so many things are, like the color red, and potatoes, and how you got your head that far up your ass."
Kavanagh leaned forward even more, getting right into Rodney's face, and Rodney raised his eyebrows. Kavanagh was a lot of things, but intimidating wasn't one of them. Sheppard shifted anyway, the lounging becoming something else, almost a warning; Kavanagh looked at him and laughed. "What, McKay, you had to bring your boyfriend for backup?"
Rodney said, "No. I brought him because he's pretty. You, Kavanagh--right now, I can't even figure out why I brought you to this galaxy. Get out of my sight before I have you demoted to washing dishes and windows and my laundry."
Kavanagh stared at him, and Rodney held it. He could see Sheppard lounging and bristling at the same time, and was aware of Zelenka quietly assigning punishments to Mauriten and Paull, but he didn't lose focus. "You're not actually a bad scientist," he said, after a while. "In fact, there really are reasons why I wanted you here. But you've got an attitude problem, and the difference between yours and mine is that you're not in charge here. Now, seriously, go away and think about what the hell you're doing. Come back when you can show me you're capable of working with this team."
Kavanagh pushed back from the table. "I'll be reporting this conversation to Dr. Weir," he said stiffly. "For all the good it'll do me. She's twice the arrogant fool you are."
Rodney watched him go, then frowned at Mauriten and Paull until they took the hint and followed him, clearly grateful to escape.
"Am I wrong, or was that actually a touching, conciliatory moment?" Sheppard asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zelenka coughed, then closed his laptop and stole his cup back. "We have them, sometimes," he said dryly. "Rodney is almost nice, Kavanagh is almost human. For a few days, work will go well. Then Kavanagh will rebel again, and Rodney will yell again, and life will be normal. Is fine entertainment. We all enjoy it."
Rodney nodded. "It's a routine," he said. "Everyone needs routine, this far from home. And hey, we blow off some steam. Which speaking of--is there more coffee?"
Zelenka grabbed his laptop, clutched his cup close to his chest, and shook his head. "No more for you," he said sternly on his way out the door. "Steal from someone else. Bring some with you when you come back to the lab, I am not making any."
"Liar," Rodney called after him, and then he sat back in his chair, frowning over his laptops. Zelenka would too be making more coffee, he was just so selfish that he wouldn't share--
"So," Sheppard said thoughtfully, and Rodney looked up to find him grinning. "You really think I'm pretty?"
"Oh, hell," he said, and Ford came into the room with a cheery smile, muffins, and salvation.
~~~~~
The briefing about L3M-295 was long, boring, long, tedious, long, and Sheppard stared thoughtfully at him the whole time. As soon as it was over, Rodney shut down his laptops and headed for the door, hoping against hope that Elizabeth would need Sheppard to stay behind, but the Major followed after him and trailed him all the way to the labs.
"I have work," he said as he set up at his station. "Important work. Lots of important work, nothing else to see here, you should move right along."
"No," Sheppard said, and he sat down at one of the other stations. There was a pile of devices awaiting sorting, cataloguing, and study and he sifted through them casually. "Are there any of these that I shouldn't touch?" he asked as he touched all of them, and Rodney rolled his eyes.
Zelenka looked up from his work. "I am surprised to see you, Major," he said. "More surprised that you were not dragged in. Is something the matter?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Sheppard said, recklessly touching stuff, sorting it into piles of what would light up and what wouldn't. The only thing that prevented him from exploding things on a daily basis was pure blind luck, Rodney had decided, and maybe the city's love for people with the gene. Sheppard fished a sleek grey rectangle out of the rapidly diminishing stack of uncatalogued devices. "Hey, this looks like a remote control."
Zelenka nodded. "Yes, yes, my thoughts exactly. Can you make it work?"
"Haven't really missed television." Sheppard tossed the rectangle into the air and caught it again, making Rodney wince. He plucked it from Sheppard's hand and brought it back to his work station, cradling it protectively.
"Maybe you haven't, but I'd kill for a Twilight Zone marathon," he muttered. "You know, it really does look like a remote." He looked up. Sheppard and Zelenka were both out of range unless it was a neat little nuclear weapon, so he took a deep breath and pressed the blue circle at one end of the device.
Nothing. He looked up again, and Sheppard and Zelenka were watching him curiously. He put his thumb down on the green triangle and said, "They were a civilized people, surely they had--"
~~~~~
Rodney McKay slept through his alarm for a good twenty minutes, and then woke up almost too tired to turn it off, and definitely too late to take a shower unless he wanted to miss out on punishing the idiots. That would never do; Zelenka would be too mean to them if left on his own.
Someone banged on his door. He thought about not getting up to answer it, and while he was thinking, it opened.
Major Sheppard stepped into his room looking ruffled and sleep-deprived and insane, and said, "Okay, listen, at some point today you're going to touch something that starts the whole day over again, and I am here to stop you."
Rodney blinked, then scowled at him and struggled to sit up. "How do you know it's me that does it?" he asked. "It could be you. It could be Zelenka. It could, it could be one of the Athosians. You can't automatically go around blaming me for your delus--"
"I can too, because it was you yesterday." He paused, then shrugged. "Or not yesterday but earlier today. Later in the last version of today." Rodney stared at him, and Sheppard stared back. "Today has happened like three times already," he said. "It's starting to give me a headache. Get up, or you're going to be late for yelling at people."
Rodney put his head in his hands and sighed. Sheppard had a headache? Rodney wasn't even out of bed yet, and his temples were already throbbing. Too much talking before coffee. He said, "Turn around or go away. I need to get up to get to caffeine, and I didn't dress for company."
Sheppard smiled at him. "I don't mind," he said, but when Rodney just looked up, surprised, and didn't move, he sighed and turned his back.
Wary, Rodney threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and grabbed some clothes, keeping an eye on Sheppard the whole time. "Delusional," he muttered on his way into the bathroom. "Delusional, delusional, delusional." He threw a longing glance at his shower, but just peed, dressed in a hurry, brushed his teeth, washed his hands and face and went back out to find Sheppard waiting for him, looking smug.
"Don't look so suspicious, Rodney," he said. "I barely peeked."
"Do you need to see Carson?" Rodney asked. "Have you hit your head? Or, oh, I could have Dr. Height--"
"Late for the idiots," Sheppard said, tapping his watch. "You don't want to miss that, do you? I didn't think so. Let's go."
Rodney hesitated, but Sheppard was doing the steely-determination look, which was fun to go up against but there wasn't time, and besides he'd only lose. "Okay," he said reluctantly, grabbing his stuff. "But you have to promise to not be crazy for an hour or so."
"I promise," Sheppard said, looking even more smug and satisfied and insane. He stepped back and the door opened and he held out his hand, gesturing Rodney out. "After you."
"Seriously," Rodney said, edging past him carefully. "If you're going to be insane, you can't come, because--"
"I won't be any more insane than I was in the last version of today," Sheppard said.
"So not reassuring," Rodney said, and walked down the hall, feeling Sheppard's gaze on his back the whole way to the conference room. "Coffee," he said when they got there, relieved, and he reached for Zelenka's mug.
Zelenka swatted his hand away.
"Hey!"
"You have your own," Zelenka said. "Major Sheppard brought it for you before he went to get you. Say thank you to the nice man; if you had stolen mine this morning, you would now be missing fingers."
Rodney turned and looked at Sheppard, who was already lounging in one of the uncomfortable chairs, making it look like a cozy recliner. "I knew you'd need it," he said smugly, and nudged the mug forward.
"Lucky guess," Rodney said, then he sat down, opened his laptop, and took a long sip of the coffee, then made a face. "Too much cream and sugar," he said, but even that couldn't dull the happy caffeine buzz. Even looking at Kavanagh, Mauriten and Paull's grim faces couldn't dull the happy buzz. They just made the anticipation stronger.
He studied the screens, rereading here and there, then shook his head and sighed. "Well," he said, leaning forward. "Congratulations, you've broken the universe, created a golem made of refuse, and developed a new species of sea monkey. Would any of you like to tell me why?"
"Maybe they're running another experiment," Sheppard said. "One where they find out just where your breaking point is."
Rodney turned to scowl at him. Sheppard smiled back, all raised eyebrows and dark circles under his eyes."I said you could come to the meeting, I didn't say you could talk."
"Why is he at the meeting?" Kavanagh asked. Rodney opened his mouth to flay him with an insult that would have him quaking in his sneakers, his hair wisping from the too-tight ponytail, his bulgy eyes watering--
And Sheppard said, "I'm here because Rodney thinks I'm pretty."
Things went rapidly downhill from there.
~~~~~
Day Break, Pt 2