SGA Fanfic: Atlantis Santa - Part 1/2
Oh for fuck's sake LJ; stop screwing me over! And laptop; stop crashing! I've been trying to post this for hours now. *tears own hair*
Title: Atlantis Santa - Part 1/2
Author: Mistress Kat /
kat_lair
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: PG
Word count: ~7750
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing.
Pairing/Category: McKay/Zelenka, Holiday fluff (Unapologetic fluff. Really, it’s the fic equivalent of candy floss: lots of sugar, very little substance)
Summary: The Secret Santa gift exchange at Atlantis causes Rodney and Radek some headache. Not to mention that weird fluttery feeling somewhere low in the abdominal region.
Author notes: Written for
cinaed on the
sga_santa fic exchange. Reposted on my LJ, because I'm anal and like to have all my fics in one place. Posted in two parts because LJ, my laptop, and (consequently) me, are all throwing tantrums. Beta by
trinity1986 and
dark_cygnet - many thanks for your help and dedication ladies, you are both simply amazing.
Atlantis Santa - Part 1/2
Rodney stared at the slip of paper in his hand.
This was awful.
He refolded it into a tiny square, squeezed it tightly in his fist and wished fervently. Screw the science; if blind superstition would get him out of this then someone go ahead and point him to the goats and rattles - he’d take his chances.
After ten seconds of repeating the mantra of ‘please change, please change, please change’ (silently, because really, his dignity did not need any more knocks this year) Rodney loosened his grip and smoothed the paper open.
Well, he never thought it would really work.
Rodney read the text again and again came to the same conclusion. It was impossible. It was undoable. It was not going to happen. He cast a furtive glance towards the end of the room where people were waiting for their turn, good-humouredly jostling and laughing while the line moved slowly past a wide basket on the side table. Maybe if he just…
“Don’t even think about it, Rodney. No swapping.” Sheppard leaned closer, not so subtly trying to get a glimpse of what was written on the paper in Rodney’s hand.
“Who’d you get anyway? It can’t be that bad.”
“Yes it can. And no, I’m not saying.” He quickly shoved the note into his pocket, huffed at Sheppard who was grinning like a three-year-old and stalked out of the door.
Rodney had better things to do than stand around and waste time. He had Ancient technology to investigate, laws of physics to rewrite, reports to criticise, scientists to whip into obedience. And, it appeared, two weeks to come up with a Christmas present for one Radek Zelenka.
***
Radek stared at the paper in his hand.
This was great. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d expected someone difficult to figure out, someone he didn’t know or like but this… Radek read the name on the paper again. This was… what was that idiom again? Slice of pie.
With a satisfied smile Radek folded the note neatly, dropped it into his breast pocket and followed a group of chattering biologists out of the room. He knew exactly what to get Rodney McKay for Christmas.
***
The Secret Santa game had been Major Lorne’s idea but no sooner had the words left his mouth than they were seized by most of Atlantis with an almost zealous elation known only to those who’ve had very little to be jubilant about.
Elizabeth gave the scheme her blessing with a smile and a gracious nod of her head.
While the running around irritated and baffled Rodney to no end, the thing that he found truly annoying was that all of it was happening in September.
Of course in Atlantis it made perfect sense to hold a Secret Santa lottery three months before… well, it wasn’t exactly Christmas; the calendars didn’t quite match and of course a third of Atlantis didn’t celebrate Christmas in the first place. Nevertheless, they had decided to hold some sort of mid-winter festivity, and really, everyone could call it whatever they wanted.
The lure of presents and innocent secrets, however, seemed to be universal. Daedalus was due to leave for the last supply run of the year in a week. It would be back in time for the holidays, filled to rafters with shiny new guns for the military and shiny new computers for the scientists - and presumably all the goodies people would think to ask for.
***
“You want me to do what?” Dr. Heightmeyer’s face was a picture of incredulity and professional affront.
“Please. Your recommendation would carry a lot of weight. If you said that Rodney needed to have one--”
“But he doesn’t! Rodney’s been functioning normal-- perfectly well on his own. I cannot imply that he needs some sort of… emotional crutch. That would be completely unethical, and quite frankly Radek, I’m shocked you’re asking me to do this.” Kate crossed her arms and leaned back with an expression that brooked no argument. Her piercing eyes nailed him to the chair.
Radek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not going well. Heightmeyer was clearly not going to do anything except sit and stare unless he provided some sort of explanation to his request. He’d really hoped not to have to do that; the look on Dr. Novak’s face had been bad enough.
“Kate.” He attempted a charming smile in her direction. Fifteen years ago it had wreaked havoc among undergraduates at the Prague University but judging by her arched eyebrows Dr. Heightmeyer was made of sterner stuff. Well, fifteen years was a long time and Radek had had very little use for charm since those days.
“Of course Rodney doesn’t need it but…” He dug a note with Rodney’s name on from his pocket and showed it to her. For some reason, he’d gotten into a habit of carrying it around.
“It’s for his Christmas present.” Radek clarified as the psychologist just looked at the piece of paper without taking it.
“I see.”
“I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Does he talk about it a lot then?” Kate’s expression showed nothing but neutral curiosity.
“He… no, not really.”
“But he has mentioned it to you?”
“Well…” Now that Radek thought about he couldn’t remember Rodney ever saying anything about it directly to him.
Heightmeyer was regarding him in silence, making Radek squirm like he hadn’t since he was twelve and sent to the headmistress of the school for appropriating some of the craftwork tools for is own project. This was ridiculous, why was the woman looking at him like that? He was trying to do a nice thing here…
“Please, Kate.” He gave another shot at smiling. “Knowing what to get him was the easy part. It’s just that the actual getting seems to be more complicated than I originally thought.”
“I don’t know Radek…” She was wavering, her fingers tapping at the table.
“Please? Are there not studies on this? I thought the benefits were well documented…?” Not that Radek placed much credence on soft science research, but unlike some people, he knew better than to advertise it too loudly. The anthropology department were good at squirreling away all sorts of questionable entertainment and generous at sharing it. More to the point, he’d once walked in on Dr. Heightmeyer arguing non-metric multidimensional scaling with one of the statisticians and he had no to desire repeat the experience from a more personal perspective.
Kate was nodding slowly, “Yes, yes, of course.” Being able to justify her choice with scientific references seemed to clinch the deal. “Let me just…” She loaded up three separate databases, her laptop whining reproachfully.
Radek leaned back in his seat. This was going to work after all.
***
Rodney had not come up with anything to add to the Daedalus’ ‘wish list’ so instead of concentrating on something important and Nobel-facilitating like, say, work, he spent the next three months stalking Zelenka.
He didn’t even feel bad about it. Careful observation was the key of good science, and it’s not like he was really bothering Radek. He’d picked quite a bit of watching Ronon skulk around corridors and a bewildering variety of indigenous vegetation, and was therefore able to discover a surprising amount of information about Radek Zelenka without him being any the wiser.
For example, Rodney found out that Radek liked to have a flaky Athosian pastry with icing for breakfast and a cup of tea with the minimum of three spoonfuls of sugar in it. Apparently he had a sweet tooth to rival Rodney’s own and some of the concoctions he created from the modest dessert options available made even Rodney’s stomach reel.
Also, for some reason, everyone wanted to confide in him. Rodney had no idea how Radek got any work done at all, with everyone in Atlantis drifting in and out of his office, determined to share tales of professional and personal woe. The amount of tradable goods a person could acquire with so much blackmail material at their disposal was truly staggering and it pained Rodney on some deeply fundamental level to witness Radek do nothing about it.
Eventually Rodney figured out that people simply gave Radek whatever he appeared to require, dropping off Battlestar Galactica downloads and little packets of mint tea and spare memory sticks like that sort of thing grew on trees. Well, the mint probably did, but that was not the point.
More important by far was the fact that Rodney was feeling distinctly… jealous. Not of the BSG downloads - although he did desperately want to know what Six was wearing in season three - but of the time and attention Radek was devoting to people who were not him.
It was… unsettling.
In addition to that, he discovered that watching Radek lick pastry crumbs from his fingers caused a strange fluttering sensation somewhere low in his belly that had an annoying tendency to linger for hours and mess with his concentration.
Quite a lot about Radek Zelenka seemed to have that effect on him.
When Rodney was in the middle of something important, solving a problem, building a bomb, whatever, he spread outwards, all sweeping movements and long words, hands flying as he rushed and shouted and just filled every space available. Saving the world was a big goddamn deal.
Radek was the exact opposite. Where he exploded out, Radek turned inside, withdrawing until almost nothing of substance was visible. Where he got loud and messy, Radek became silent and intense. Where he wanted people around to hand tools, shoot enemies, act as sounding boards, even if uncomprehending ones, Radek turned his back to the room, the hunch of his shoulders radiating need for privacy so strongly that most people took the hint and stayed away.
In fact, the only person Radek appeared to tolerate around him in times like these was Rodney himself. Whether it was because Rodney was simply very good at ignoring social cues, or because Radek genuinely didn’t mind his presence, he didn’t know.
What he did know with painful certainty was that seeing Radek like that, all quiet efficiency and clever, sure hands, was sort of… hot. So hot that Rodney had to casually excuse himself on several occasions and go find something less dangerous to do. Like play with matches and weapons-grade plutonium.
The more time Rodney spent trying to find out what Radek could possibly want for Christmas, the more hesitant he felt - about everything.
But he persevered. There were… things at stake here, dammit, and Rodney McKay never accepted anything short of perfection.
Eventually it paid off. One day in the lunch line, while contemplating the relative merits of mystery meat casserole and bland looking root vegetable soup, he overheard a stray childhood memory Radek was sharing with Teyla. And right then and there, the soup ladle still dangling from his numb fingers, a stupid, inspired, risky, completely over-the-top idea was born.
Rodney dropped his tray on the counter and strode out. He had work to do.
***
Radek spent the next three months trying to hide from Rodney. It got increasingly difficult as the weeks went by because for some inexplicable reason the man kept popping up everywhere.
When he wasn’t avoiding his superior, Radek was resolutely avoiding his own thoughts. They kept returning to said superior and the present that was making its way through space, bound for the Pegasus galaxy and, what he could now see, was going to be an incredibly embarrassing gift exchange.
Even though the whole thing was a secret for now, it was unlikely to stay that way. Besides, McKay wasn’t the head of science for nothing, he would be able to figure out eventually who was behind the gift and when he did… Well, Radek better have a believable, safe reason at ready.
The problem was that ever since Daedalus had left for Earth he had actually started thinking about the reasons behind his choice. And the more he thought, the more uncomfortable he became.
Most days he fluctuated violently between fervently hoping that his request had been granted and feeling nauseous at the thought that it had been. When he’d first seen Rodney’s name on the slip of paper the idea had come to him straightaway. It was so simple.
Of course the execution had been far from simple, but Radek had done everything he could think of to make it happen.
Which was exactly where the edge of uncomfortable started. He had gone to a lot of trouble for one Christmas present. He could have got Rodney some new hardware or software or special coffee or alcohol or chocolate or… well pretty much anything edible.
Instead he’d got him a present that practically screamed ‘unprofessional feelings’.
Radek glanced at the calendar. T-minus-three-days before all bets were off.
***
The party was a huge success. The noise could be heard several levels down. Of course, it wasn’t like people had a choice of social gatherings to pick from. You either went to the big Christmas/holiday-of-your-choice party or sat alone in your lab and played FreeCell.
After twenty games Rodney finally shut down his laptop. Sure he’d solved the latest one in less than thirty seconds, but the plans for increased puddlejumper engine efficiency were definitely not progressing. In fact - he squinted at the writing on the whiteboard - it looked like he might have actually taken their research several steps in the wrong direction.
Zelenka would enjoy that a bit too much. There would be quiet smiles and pointed comments about western education. Best to…
Rodney wiped the board clean and looked around for anything else to distract him. The grumble in his stomach did the job so, with a deep breath, he walked out and headed for the party.
“Rodney!” Sheppard’s friendly slap on the back dislodged a sprout from his mouth. It flew several feet in a beautiful arch and landed in Kavanaugh’s eggnog.
“Like he needed another reason to hate me.” Rodney muttered as they casually but quickly made their way toward the other end of the room.
“Sorry. Zelenka said you were still in the lab and that if you didn’t show up soon someone should go down there and drag you out. I and my holiday spirit…” Sheppard sloshed some clear liquid around in the glass before taking an unhealthy swig, “…thank you for saving everyone the trouble. Cheers and Merry Christmas!” With another bone-jarring pat on the back he walked off towards Teyla who was teaching a group of very interested looking marines some sort of Athosian dance that involved a lot of bending from the waist.
“Hey, wait! What exactly did Radek say?” But the Colonel was already halfway across the dance floor.
The party reminded Rodney of the number of office and faculty social functions he’d had to attend in his time; there was food and drink and everyone you knew acting in a way that made you think perhaps you didn’t know them that well after all - or that you’d like to get to know them a lot better.
Elizabeth was dancing in a group of women that included some of the brightest minds in two Galaxies and was that…? Yes, Dr. Heightmeyer doing the funky chicken like there was no tomorrow.
The sight made Rodney choke on his mashed potatoes. Surely the APA frowned on psychologists being the cause of therapy.
“Yes, but is oddly attractive too.” There was another hand whacking him on the shoulder blades.
“That’s what scares me the most.” Zelenka’s arm was still resting on his back, warm and solid, so when Rodney turned around they ended up in a half-embrace.
“I worry I have to come and mock your equations to get you to leave them and join us.” Radek was wearing brown corduroy pants, a soft rusty-red coloured sweater with a long-sleeved white tee under it. He looked really good.
He smelled fantastic. Rodney took a not-so-subtle sniff; cranberry cake and cinnamon rolls. His mouth watered. Because of the desserts. Right.
“Oh?” Rodney was feeling a bit breathless and clutching the plate to his chest. The other man still hadn’t let go of his shoulder.
“People want to see their fearless leader. Many are unable to relax when they think you are hard at work.”
“Right, well.” Of course, people needed to see the head of scientific division having fun. Rodney backed away and hurriedly stuffed a large piece of turkey into his mouth. “They don’t seem to have trouble with it any other time of the year.”
Zelenka’s arm slid off and hung almost forlornly at his side. He looked like he was going to say something else but Elizabeth’s voice interrupted them both.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” She was standing on one of the tables holding a flute of champagne. Major Lorne was keeping a steadying hand on the edge of the table and a solicitous eye on her legs.
At the sight of her the members of the Atlantis expedition burst into spontaneous applause and whistles. Even Rodney found himself clapping furiously; somehow it seemed like the only thing to do.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please.” She tried again, with a huge grin on her face. Slowly the noise died down. “As a career diplomat and negotiator I have attended countless parties and made probably hundreds of speeches. For years, words have been the main tool of my job.”
The crowd settled down to listen.
“But today, standing here in front of you all, I find that words desert me.” She looked serious for a moment and then smiled. “Which I’m sure will come as a relief to those of you who haven’t made it to the bar yet. So I shan’t hold up the festivities for long.”
“I just wanted to say that I have never been more proud of anyone than I am of you. The dedication and the hard work that each and every one of you have shown during this last year make it a privilege to be part of something this amazing. I know it hasn’t been easy. There have been bitter losses and sacrifices that should not have been necessary.”
People kept their eyes on her; not looking at the faces that were missing.
“But we have made it this far and we will make it to the end.” She raised her glass in a toast. “To the Atlantis expedition. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“To the Atlantis expedition!” The room echoed with the shout as everyone lifted whatever they were holding and drank deeply.
“And now, as I believe we have all been very, very good this year …” At a sign from Weir Lorne hoisted the first of three enormous sacks to the table. “…the gifts!” A drunken cheer made the glassware vibrate.
“Santa couldn’t make it all the way to the Pegasus galaxy but he sent his special helper. Dr. McKay, if you could do the honours!”
The laughter and catcalls followed Rodney as he made his way to the centre of the room. He felt his cheeks grow warm but found that he didn’t actually mind so much. The jeering was good-natured and friendly. Besides, if playing Santa got him away from Zelenka’s searching eyes for a few moments then hand him the hat and let him do it.
Someone did. A red hat was pulled over his head while Lorne passed him the first sack. Without further ceremony Rodney picked the first package from the pile and started reading out nametags.
“Jacobsen, Solaiman, Ronon…”
By the time he spotted his envelope to Radek, he’d calmed down enough to be able to shout “Zelenka!” with only the tiniest catch in his voice.
Rodney gave it to Radek’s waiting hand without making eye contact. Luckily a lot of other people had also gone for the letter-size presents so the envelope didn’t particularly stand out.
Finally all the gifts were distributed. Rodney absently fingered his own. It too seemed to consist of nothing more than a folded sheet of paper.
He kept casting looks on Zelenka’s direction without trying to be too obvious. Oh God, what if he read it out loud and people guessed who it was and then they would start to speculate on the what and why and… Oh shit, shit, fuck. Radek was tearing the envelope open.
He was mildly disappointed when nothing drastic happened. Zelenka turned slightly away from others so Rodney couldn’t see his expression. He did seem to take an awful long time to read the few lines of text but when he turned back toward the room, his face was schooled to a carefully neutral smile that gave absolutely nothing away.
“Come on McKay, what did you get?”
“Yeah, inquiring minds want to know!”
Sheppard’s shout was soon taken up and, grateful for anything that drew his attention away from Radek, Rodney gave into the demands.
He folded the thick paper open. On it was a most cryptic message.
Rodney,
Your gift is still on the Daedalus for necessary reasons. Contact them to have it transported down. It might be a good idea to have Dr. O’Farrell nearby, just in case.
Merry Christmas and thank you for everything.
A Friend.
Rodney frowned. What possible ‘necessary reasons’ could there be for the present to still be aboard the ship. And why would he need O’Farrell…
“Dr. McKay, I believe my presence may be required.” A stocky fifty-something man with greying hair and a cheerful smile had appeared at his side as if summoned.
“Mike.” Rodney greeted him. “Care to explain this to me? Is this from you?”
The other man guffawed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “No, it is not. And if you just contact the Daedalus, all will be revealed.”
Feeling apprehensive but curious despite himself, Rodney tapped his radio and asked the control room to patch him through to the ship, which was orbiting the planet under a cloak.
“Dr. Novak here. How may I help you?” Her voice came through steady and clear. The woman had finally gotten her space-legs after several roundtrips between Earth and Atlantis.
“Er… Hello, it’s Dr. McKay. I… Well, this may sound a bit weird but--”
“Ah yes, your Christmas gift. Everything is in order. Do you have sufficient room at your current location for us to beam it down there?”
Rodney looked about; his mystery present had attracted quite a crowd. At least three-dozen people, including his team, Elizabeth and quite a few scientists, were standing in a loose circle around him. Zelenka was on the edge of the group. Rodney tried to catch his eyes but the bland mask of joviality was still firmly in place and his gaze stayed glued to the drink in his hand.
“Er… yes, I guess so.” This was officially the weirdest Christmas present he had ever received, including the purple knitted floppy-disk holder his great-aunt had given him when he was twenty-five. He’d stretched it over the years and now it was roomy enough to hold several memory sticks and his spare hard drive.
With an air of anticipation the crowd stepped back. There was a bright flash of light accompanied by a familiar whooshing sound and something that looked like a miniature stasis pod materialised on the floor. Rodney craned his neck to see better but was reluctant to go any closer.
Dr. O’Farrell however had no such scruples. Confidently he strode over, knelt by the pod, opened the lid and bent over the white-orange something stirring inside. Rodney’s heart started to pound. It couldn’t be…
He felt faint. It was impossible. He had asked before shipping out. He had begged and wheedled and thrown tantrums but the answer had always been the same. It was too risky, waste of resources, there was no room.
But O’Farrell, who in addition to his expertise in exobiology was a fully qualified veterinary doctor, was standing up with a small furry thing in his arms. He turned around to face Rodney and everyone else with a wide smile on his lips.
“He’s okay. A bit disoriented but that’s to be expected after a month in stasis.”
Rodney heard none of it, saw no one else. Because there, blinking slowly and looking around himself with flattened ears, was…
“Albert!” The cat recognised its name and, Rodney liked to think, its owner’s voice even after all this time. The yellow eyes cleared a bit more, a pink mouth opened and a tiny little “meow” could be heard.
Rodney was over there in two quick steps, sweeping Albert into his arms.
“Oh my little Albie. Daddy missed you so much, yes he did. Come here you pudding cup…” Hugging the cat to his chest Rodney made his way to the door, party all but forgotten.
A chorus of ‘awwws’ (mostly from the women) and scattered sniggers (mostly from the marines and Sheppard who was shaking with hilarity) followed him out of the room. Rodney heard nothing but Albert’s purr as a soft feline head rubbed against his chin.
He definitely didn’t see Radek, now leaning against the back wall with a smile wide enough to split his face.
***
It was possibly for the best that the rest of the reunion took place in privacy of Rodney’s quarters. There were tears (Rodney, although he’d never admit it), nervous peeing (Albert, and neither would he) and running around frantically looking for food and anything to double as a litter box (both). There were also a number of intervals when the crying and peeing and running around were put on hold while Rodney stood in the middle of the floor, holding an ecstatically purring cat to his chest.
All in all, it was a highly emotional time for both and neither the man nor the cat was at their best.
It was only several hours later as Albert, now fed and cuddled within and inch of his life, curled on the bed to sleep, that Rodney started to wonder about the person behind the gift.
Giving the cat one final scratch behind the ears, he got up and rummaged through his jacket pockets. Fishing out the rumpled sheet of paper he smoothed it out and reread it.
Nothing. No hints that he could decipher. 'A Friend’ was as impersonal as it got. Thanking him was perhaps a bit unconventional on a Christmas letter but again it gave no clues. He had saved pretty much the whole of Atlantis on more than one occasion so really it could be anyone.
The note was typed so no handwriting to exam-- Hold on. Why would anyone bother typing and printing a short message like that? It’s not like he was an expert on handwriting or even seen most people’s cursive, except of course--
Rodney sat down on the bed with a thump, startling Albert who expressed disapproval by sinking its claws into Rodney’s thigh.
Except, there was someone whose handwriting Rodney knew as well as his own by now. After all, he saw it scrawled on the whiteboard every day, numbers and symbols drawn with surprisingly wide loops that got bigger the more excited the man wielding the pen became.
Radek.
It would have taken some doing, to get the permission to ship Albert to Atlantis. Radek would have undoubtedly been able to do it; the little Czech was extremely resourceful… and stubborn.
God, he hoped he was right and not just getting carried away by his own wishes.
He would know for certain tomorrow.
***
Continue to Part 2/2
Title: Atlantis Santa - Part 1/2
Author: Mistress Kat /
kat_lair
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: PG
Word count: ~7750
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing.
Pairing/Category: McKay/Zelenka, Holiday fluff (Unapologetic fluff. Really, it’s the fic equivalent of candy floss: lots of sugar, very little substance)
Summary: The Secret Santa gift exchange at Atlantis causes Rodney and Radek some headache. Not to mention that weird fluttery feeling somewhere low in the abdominal region.
Author notes: Written for
cinaed on the
sga_santa fic exchange. Reposted on my LJ, because I'm anal and like to have all my fics in one place. Posted in two parts because LJ, my laptop, and (consequently) me, are all throwing tantrums. Beta by
trinity1986 and
dark_cygnet - many thanks for your help and dedication ladies, you are both simply amazing.
Atlantis Santa - Part 1/2
Rodney stared at the slip of paper in his hand.
This was awful.
He refolded it into a tiny square, squeezed it tightly in his fist and wished fervently. Screw the science; if blind superstition would get him out of this then someone go ahead and point him to the goats and rattles - he’d take his chances.
After ten seconds of repeating the mantra of ‘please change, please change, please change’ (silently, because really, his dignity did not need any more knocks this year) Rodney loosened his grip and smoothed the paper open.
Well, he never thought it would really work.
Rodney read the text again and again came to the same conclusion. It was impossible. It was undoable. It was not going to happen. He cast a furtive glance towards the end of the room where people were waiting for their turn, good-humouredly jostling and laughing while the line moved slowly past a wide basket on the side table. Maybe if he just…
“Don’t even think about it, Rodney. No swapping.” Sheppard leaned closer, not so subtly trying to get a glimpse of what was written on the paper in Rodney’s hand.
“Who’d you get anyway? It can’t be that bad.”
“Yes it can. And no, I’m not saying.” He quickly shoved the note into his pocket, huffed at Sheppard who was grinning like a three-year-old and stalked out of the door.
Rodney had better things to do than stand around and waste time. He had Ancient technology to investigate, laws of physics to rewrite, reports to criticise, scientists to whip into obedience. And, it appeared, two weeks to come up with a Christmas present for one Radek Zelenka.
***
Radek stared at the paper in his hand.
This was great. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d expected someone difficult to figure out, someone he didn’t know or like but this… Radek read the name on the paper again. This was… what was that idiom again? Slice of pie.
With a satisfied smile Radek folded the note neatly, dropped it into his breast pocket and followed a group of chattering biologists out of the room. He knew exactly what to get Rodney McKay for Christmas.
***
The Secret Santa game had been Major Lorne’s idea but no sooner had the words left his mouth than they were seized by most of Atlantis with an almost zealous elation known only to those who’ve had very little to be jubilant about.
Elizabeth gave the scheme her blessing with a smile and a gracious nod of her head.
While the running around irritated and baffled Rodney to no end, the thing that he found truly annoying was that all of it was happening in September.
Of course in Atlantis it made perfect sense to hold a Secret Santa lottery three months before… well, it wasn’t exactly Christmas; the calendars didn’t quite match and of course a third of Atlantis didn’t celebrate Christmas in the first place. Nevertheless, they had decided to hold some sort of mid-winter festivity, and really, everyone could call it whatever they wanted.
The lure of presents and innocent secrets, however, seemed to be universal. Daedalus was due to leave for the last supply run of the year in a week. It would be back in time for the holidays, filled to rafters with shiny new guns for the military and shiny new computers for the scientists - and presumably all the goodies people would think to ask for.
***
“You want me to do what?” Dr. Heightmeyer’s face was a picture of incredulity and professional affront.
“Please. Your recommendation would carry a lot of weight. If you said that Rodney needed to have one--”
“But he doesn’t! Rodney’s been functioning normal-- perfectly well on his own. I cannot imply that he needs some sort of… emotional crutch. That would be completely unethical, and quite frankly Radek, I’m shocked you’re asking me to do this.” Kate crossed her arms and leaned back with an expression that brooked no argument. Her piercing eyes nailed him to the chair.
Radek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not going well. Heightmeyer was clearly not going to do anything except sit and stare unless he provided some sort of explanation to his request. He’d really hoped not to have to do that; the look on Dr. Novak’s face had been bad enough.
“Kate.” He attempted a charming smile in her direction. Fifteen years ago it had wreaked havoc among undergraduates at the Prague University but judging by her arched eyebrows Dr. Heightmeyer was made of sterner stuff. Well, fifteen years was a long time and Radek had had very little use for charm since those days.
“Of course Rodney doesn’t need it but…” He dug a note with Rodney’s name on from his pocket and showed it to her. For some reason, he’d gotten into a habit of carrying it around.
“It’s for his Christmas present.” Radek clarified as the psychologist just looked at the piece of paper without taking it.
“I see.”
“I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Does he talk about it a lot then?” Kate’s expression showed nothing but neutral curiosity.
“He… no, not really.”
“But he has mentioned it to you?”
“Well…” Now that Radek thought about he couldn’t remember Rodney ever saying anything about it directly to him.
Heightmeyer was regarding him in silence, making Radek squirm like he hadn’t since he was twelve and sent to the headmistress of the school for appropriating some of the craftwork tools for is own project. This was ridiculous, why was the woman looking at him like that? He was trying to do a nice thing here…
“Please, Kate.” He gave another shot at smiling. “Knowing what to get him was the easy part. It’s just that the actual getting seems to be more complicated than I originally thought.”
“I don’t know Radek…” She was wavering, her fingers tapping at the table.
“Please? Are there not studies on this? I thought the benefits were well documented…?” Not that Radek placed much credence on soft science research, but unlike some people, he knew better than to advertise it too loudly. The anthropology department were good at squirreling away all sorts of questionable entertainment and generous at sharing it. More to the point, he’d once walked in on Dr. Heightmeyer arguing non-metric multidimensional scaling with one of the statisticians and he had no to desire repeat the experience from a more personal perspective.
Kate was nodding slowly, “Yes, yes, of course.” Being able to justify her choice with scientific references seemed to clinch the deal. “Let me just…” She loaded up three separate databases, her laptop whining reproachfully.
Radek leaned back in his seat. This was going to work after all.
***
Rodney had not come up with anything to add to the Daedalus’ ‘wish list’ so instead of concentrating on something important and Nobel-facilitating like, say, work, he spent the next three months stalking Zelenka.
He didn’t even feel bad about it. Careful observation was the key of good science, and it’s not like he was really bothering Radek. He’d picked quite a bit of watching Ronon skulk around corridors and a bewildering variety of indigenous vegetation, and was therefore able to discover a surprising amount of information about Radek Zelenka without him being any the wiser.
For example, Rodney found out that Radek liked to have a flaky Athosian pastry with icing for breakfast and a cup of tea with the minimum of three spoonfuls of sugar in it. Apparently he had a sweet tooth to rival Rodney’s own and some of the concoctions he created from the modest dessert options available made even Rodney’s stomach reel.
Also, for some reason, everyone wanted to confide in him. Rodney had no idea how Radek got any work done at all, with everyone in Atlantis drifting in and out of his office, determined to share tales of professional and personal woe. The amount of tradable goods a person could acquire with so much blackmail material at their disposal was truly staggering and it pained Rodney on some deeply fundamental level to witness Radek do nothing about it.
Eventually Rodney figured out that people simply gave Radek whatever he appeared to require, dropping off Battlestar Galactica downloads and little packets of mint tea and spare memory sticks like that sort of thing grew on trees. Well, the mint probably did, but that was not the point.
More important by far was the fact that Rodney was feeling distinctly… jealous. Not of the BSG downloads - although he did desperately want to know what Six was wearing in season three - but of the time and attention Radek was devoting to people who were not him.
It was… unsettling.
In addition to that, he discovered that watching Radek lick pastry crumbs from his fingers caused a strange fluttering sensation somewhere low in his belly that had an annoying tendency to linger for hours and mess with his concentration.
Quite a lot about Radek Zelenka seemed to have that effect on him.
When Rodney was in the middle of something important, solving a problem, building a bomb, whatever, he spread outwards, all sweeping movements and long words, hands flying as he rushed and shouted and just filled every space available. Saving the world was a big goddamn deal.
Radek was the exact opposite. Where he exploded out, Radek turned inside, withdrawing until almost nothing of substance was visible. Where he got loud and messy, Radek became silent and intense. Where he wanted people around to hand tools, shoot enemies, act as sounding boards, even if uncomprehending ones, Radek turned his back to the room, the hunch of his shoulders radiating need for privacy so strongly that most people took the hint and stayed away.
In fact, the only person Radek appeared to tolerate around him in times like these was Rodney himself. Whether it was because Rodney was simply very good at ignoring social cues, or because Radek genuinely didn’t mind his presence, he didn’t know.
What he did know with painful certainty was that seeing Radek like that, all quiet efficiency and clever, sure hands, was sort of… hot. So hot that Rodney had to casually excuse himself on several occasions and go find something less dangerous to do. Like play with matches and weapons-grade plutonium.
The more time Rodney spent trying to find out what Radek could possibly want for Christmas, the more hesitant he felt - about everything.
But he persevered. There were… things at stake here, dammit, and Rodney McKay never accepted anything short of perfection.
Eventually it paid off. One day in the lunch line, while contemplating the relative merits of mystery meat casserole and bland looking root vegetable soup, he overheard a stray childhood memory Radek was sharing with Teyla. And right then and there, the soup ladle still dangling from his numb fingers, a stupid, inspired, risky, completely over-the-top idea was born.
Rodney dropped his tray on the counter and strode out. He had work to do.
***
Radek spent the next three months trying to hide from Rodney. It got increasingly difficult as the weeks went by because for some inexplicable reason the man kept popping up everywhere.
When he wasn’t avoiding his superior, Radek was resolutely avoiding his own thoughts. They kept returning to said superior and the present that was making its way through space, bound for the Pegasus galaxy and, what he could now see, was going to be an incredibly embarrassing gift exchange.
Even though the whole thing was a secret for now, it was unlikely to stay that way. Besides, McKay wasn’t the head of science for nothing, he would be able to figure out eventually who was behind the gift and when he did… Well, Radek better have a believable, safe reason at ready.
The problem was that ever since Daedalus had left for Earth he had actually started thinking about the reasons behind his choice. And the more he thought, the more uncomfortable he became.
Most days he fluctuated violently between fervently hoping that his request had been granted and feeling nauseous at the thought that it had been. When he’d first seen Rodney’s name on the slip of paper the idea had come to him straightaway. It was so simple.
Of course the execution had been far from simple, but Radek had done everything he could think of to make it happen.
Which was exactly where the edge of uncomfortable started. He had gone to a lot of trouble for one Christmas present. He could have got Rodney some new hardware or software or special coffee or alcohol or chocolate or… well pretty much anything edible.
Instead he’d got him a present that practically screamed ‘unprofessional feelings’.
Radek glanced at the calendar. T-minus-three-days before all bets were off.
***
The party was a huge success. The noise could be heard several levels down. Of course, it wasn’t like people had a choice of social gatherings to pick from. You either went to the big Christmas/holiday-of-your-choice party or sat alone in your lab and played FreeCell.
After twenty games Rodney finally shut down his laptop. Sure he’d solved the latest one in less than thirty seconds, but the plans for increased puddlejumper engine efficiency were definitely not progressing. In fact - he squinted at the writing on the whiteboard - it looked like he might have actually taken their research several steps in the wrong direction.
Zelenka would enjoy that a bit too much. There would be quiet smiles and pointed comments about western education. Best to…
Rodney wiped the board clean and looked around for anything else to distract him. The grumble in his stomach did the job so, with a deep breath, he walked out and headed for the party.
“Rodney!” Sheppard’s friendly slap on the back dislodged a sprout from his mouth. It flew several feet in a beautiful arch and landed in Kavanaugh’s eggnog.
“Like he needed another reason to hate me.” Rodney muttered as they casually but quickly made their way toward the other end of the room.
“Sorry. Zelenka said you were still in the lab and that if you didn’t show up soon someone should go down there and drag you out. I and my holiday spirit…” Sheppard sloshed some clear liquid around in the glass before taking an unhealthy swig, “…thank you for saving everyone the trouble. Cheers and Merry Christmas!” With another bone-jarring pat on the back he walked off towards Teyla who was teaching a group of very interested looking marines some sort of Athosian dance that involved a lot of bending from the waist.
“Hey, wait! What exactly did Radek say?” But the Colonel was already halfway across the dance floor.
The party reminded Rodney of the number of office and faculty social functions he’d had to attend in his time; there was food and drink and everyone you knew acting in a way that made you think perhaps you didn’t know them that well after all - or that you’d like to get to know them a lot better.
Elizabeth was dancing in a group of women that included some of the brightest minds in two Galaxies and was that…? Yes, Dr. Heightmeyer doing the funky chicken like there was no tomorrow.
The sight made Rodney choke on his mashed potatoes. Surely the APA frowned on psychologists being the cause of therapy.
“Yes, but is oddly attractive too.” There was another hand whacking him on the shoulder blades.
“That’s what scares me the most.” Zelenka’s arm was still resting on his back, warm and solid, so when Rodney turned around they ended up in a half-embrace.
“I worry I have to come and mock your equations to get you to leave them and join us.” Radek was wearing brown corduroy pants, a soft rusty-red coloured sweater with a long-sleeved white tee under it. He looked really good.
He smelled fantastic. Rodney took a not-so-subtle sniff; cranberry cake and cinnamon rolls. His mouth watered. Because of the desserts. Right.
“Oh?” Rodney was feeling a bit breathless and clutching the plate to his chest. The other man still hadn’t let go of his shoulder.
“People want to see their fearless leader. Many are unable to relax when they think you are hard at work.”
“Right, well.” Of course, people needed to see the head of scientific division having fun. Rodney backed away and hurriedly stuffed a large piece of turkey into his mouth. “They don’t seem to have trouble with it any other time of the year.”
Zelenka’s arm slid off and hung almost forlornly at his side. He looked like he was going to say something else but Elizabeth’s voice interrupted them both.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” She was standing on one of the tables holding a flute of champagne. Major Lorne was keeping a steadying hand on the edge of the table and a solicitous eye on her legs.
At the sight of her the members of the Atlantis expedition burst into spontaneous applause and whistles. Even Rodney found himself clapping furiously; somehow it seemed like the only thing to do.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please.” She tried again, with a huge grin on her face. Slowly the noise died down. “As a career diplomat and negotiator I have attended countless parties and made probably hundreds of speeches. For years, words have been the main tool of my job.”
The crowd settled down to listen.
“But today, standing here in front of you all, I find that words desert me.” She looked serious for a moment and then smiled. “Which I’m sure will come as a relief to those of you who haven’t made it to the bar yet. So I shan’t hold up the festivities for long.”
“I just wanted to say that I have never been more proud of anyone than I am of you. The dedication and the hard work that each and every one of you have shown during this last year make it a privilege to be part of something this amazing. I know it hasn’t been easy. There have been bitter losses and sacrifices that should not have been necessary.”
People kept their eyes on her; not looking at the faces that were missing.
“But we have made it this far and we will make it to the end.” She raised her glass in a toast. “To the Atlantis expedition. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“To the Atlantis expedition!” The room echoed with the shout as everyone lifted whatever they were holding and drank deeply.
“And now, as I believe we have all been very, very good this year …” At a sign from Weir Lorne hoisted the first of three enormous sacks to the table. “…the gifts!” A drunken cheer made the glassware vibrate.
“Santa couldn’t make it all the way to the Pegasus galaxy but he sent his special helper. Dr. McKay, if you could do the honours!”
The laughter and catcalls followed Rodney as he made his way to the centre of the room. He felt his cheeks grow warm but found that he didn’t actually mind so much. The jeering was good-natured and friendly. Besides, if playing Santa got him away from Zelenka’s searching eyes for a few moments then hand him the hat and let him do it.
Someone did. A red hat was pulled over his head while Lorne passed him the first sack. Without further ceremony Rodney picked the first package from the pile and started reading out nametags.
“Jacobsen, Solaiman, Ronon…”
By the time he spotted his envelope to Radek, he’d calmed down enough to be able to shout “Zelenka!” with only the tiniest catch in his voice.
Rodney gave it to Radek’s waiting hand without making eye contact. Luckily a lot of other people had also gone for the letter-size presents so the envelope didn’t particularly stand out.
Finally all the gifts were distributed. Rodney absently fingered his own. It too seemed to consist of nothing more than a folded sheet of paper.
He kept casting looks on Zelenka’s direction without trying to be too obvious. Oh God, what if he read it out loud and people guessed who it was and then they would start to speculate on the what and why and… Oh shit, shit, fuck. Radek was tearing the envelope open.
He was mildly disappointed when nothing drastic happened. Zelenka turned slightly away from others so Rodney couldn’t see his expression. He did seem to take an awful long time to read the few lines of text but when he turned back toward the room, his face was schooled to a carefully neutral smile that gave absolutely nothing away.
“Come on McKay, what did you get?”
“Yeah, inquiring minds want to know!”
Sheppard’s shout was soon taken up and, grateful for anything that drew his attention away from Radek, Rodney gave into the demands.
He folded the thick paper open. On it was a most cryptic message.
Rodney,
Your gift is still on the Daedalus for necessary reasons. Contact them to have it transported down. It might be a good idea to have Dr. O’Farrell nearby, just in case.
Merry Christmas and thank you for everything.
A Friend.
Rodney frowned. What possible ‘necessary reasons’ could there be for the present to still be aboard the ship. And why would he need O’Farrell…
“Dr. McKay, I believe my presence may be required.” A stocky fifty-something man with greying hair and a cheerful smile had appeared at his side as if summoned.
“Mike.” Rodney greeted him. “Care to explain this to me? Is this from you?”
The other man guffawed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “No, it is not. And if you just contact the Daedalus, all will be revealed.”
Feeling apprehensive but curious despite himself, Rodney tapped his radio and asked the control room to patch him through to the ship, which was orbiting the planet under a cloak.
“Dr. Novak here. How may I help you?” Her voice came through steady and clear. The woman had finally gotten her space-legs after several roundtrips between Earth and Atlantis.
“Er… Hello, it’s Dr. McKay. I… Well, this may sound a bit weird but--”
“Ah yes, your Christmas gift. Everything is in order. Do you have sufficient room at your current location for us to beam it down there?”
Rodney looked about; his mystery present had attracted quite a crowd. At least three-dozen people, including his team, Elizabeth and quite a few scientists, were standing in a loose circle around him. Zelenka was on the edge of the group. Rodney tried to catch his eyes but the bland mask of joviality was still firmly in place and his gaze stayed glued to the drink in his hand.
“Er… yes, I guess so.” This was officially the weirdest Christmas present he had ever received, including the purple knitted floppy-disk holder his great-aunt had given him when he was twenty-five. He’d stretched it over the years and now it was roomy enough to hold several memory sticks and his spare hard drive.
With an air of anticipation the crowd stepped back. There was a bright flash of light accompanied by a familiar whooshing sound and something that looked like a miniature stasis pod materialised on the floor. Rodney craned his neck to see better but was reluctant to go any closer.
Dr. O’Farrell however had no such scruples. Confidently he strode over, knelt by the pod, opened the lid and bent over the white-orange something stirring inside. Rodney’s heart started to pound. It couldn’t be…
He felt faint. It was impossible. He had asked before shipping out. He had begged and wheedled and thrown tantrums but the answer had always been the same. It was too risky, waste of resources, there was no room.
But O’Farrell, who in addition to his expertise in exobiology was a fully qualified veterinary doctor, was standing up with a small furry thing in his arms. He turned around to face Rodney and everyone else with a wide smile on his lips.
“He’s okay. A bit disoriented but that’s to be expected after a month in stasis.”
Rodney heard none of it, saw no one else. Because there, blinking slowly and looking around himself with flattened ears, was…
“Albert!” The cat recognised its name and, Rodney liked to think, its owner’s voice even after all this time. The yellow eyes cleared a bit more, a pink mouth opened and a tiny little “meow” could be heard.
Rodney was over there in two quick steps, sweeping Albert into his arms.
“Oh my little Albie. Daddy missed you so much, yes he did. Come here you pudding cup…” Hugging the cat to his chest Rodney made his way to the door, party all but forgotten.
A chorus of ‘awwws’ (mostly from the women) and scattered sniggers (mostly from the marines and Sheppard who was shaking with hilarity) followed him out of the room. Rodney heard nothing but Albert’s purr as a soft feline head rubbed against his chin.
He definitely didn’t see Radek, now leaning against the back wall with a smile wide enough to split his face.
***
It was possibly for the best that the rest of the reunion took place in privacy of Rodney’s quarters. There were tears (Rodney, although he’d never admit it), nervous peeing (Albert, and neither would he) and running around frantically looking for food and anything to double as a litter box (both). There were also a number of intervals when the crying and peeing and running around were put on hold while Rodney stood in the middle of the floor, holding an ecstatically purring cat to his chest.
All in all, it was a highly emotional time for both and neither the man nor the cat was at their best.
It was only several hours later as Albert, now fed and cuddled within and inch of his life, curled on the bed to sleep, that Rodney started to wonder about the person behind the gift.
Giving the cat one final scratch behind the ears, he got up and rummaged through his jacket pockets. Fishing out the rumpled sheet of paper he smoothed it out and reread it.
Nothing. No hints that he could decipher. 'A Friend’ was as impersonal as it got. Thanking him was perhaps a bit unconventional on a Christmas letter but again it gave no clues. He had saved pretty much the whole of Atlantis on more than one occasion so really it could be anyone.
The note was typed so no handwriting to exam-- Hold on. Why would anyone bother typing and printing a short message like that? It’s not like he was an expert on handwriting or even seen most people’s cursive, except of course--
Rodney sat down on the bed with a thump, startling Albert who expressed disapproval by sinking its claws into Rodney’s thigh.
Except, there was someone whose handwriting Rodney knew as well as his own by now. After all, he saw it scrawled on the whiteboard every day, numbers and symbols drawn with surprisingly wide loops that got bigger the more excited the man wielding the pen became.
Radek.
It would have taken some doing, to get the permission to ship Albert to Atlantis. Radek would have undoubtedly been able to do it; the little Czech was extremely resourceful… and stubborn.
God, he hoped he was right and not just getting carried away by his own wishes.
He would know for certain tomorrow.
***
Continue to Part 2/2