Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis and I am not making any money by writing about it.
Title: Midnight Friendship
Author: Madelin Breaker
Warnings: Unnamed character death
Pairings: McKay/Weir friendship—McKay?
Season: Up to current
Spoilers: Up to current
Rating: K (This is the rating—I belong to so many yahoo groups that I can't keep track of which group uses what rating system)
Archive: Sure, just let me know—also, at my website www. tekcities / thegeekyone
Feedback: Please
Summary: Two friends meet in the middle of the night—one offers advice—the other reassurance. This is McWeir friendship and bring your own ship.
"Can't you sleep either?" Elizabeth asks as she sits down with the only other occupant of the mess hall.
"No, I was just thinking," Rodney responds distantly.
"Anything I can help with?"
"I think I might have said the wrong thing to someone."
Elizabeth raises an eyebrow.
"I know—surprise—surprise—Rodney's big mouth strikes again," he sigh, "This time it means something to me."
Elizabeth considers who this mysterious person could be—those who Rodney might actually care about offending fell into the same category as those who had learned to see past the abrasiveness.
"Have you tried apologizing?"
Rodney looks pained, "I doubt that would be received as sincere."
"Perhaps you should make a gesture of good faith."
Rodney looks confused.
"Concede a point—I'm sure you can think of something."
He considers the idea for a moment—a smile slowly spreading across his face. He jumps up—nearly spilling his coffee-- as he moves briskly out of the mess, "thanks," he calls as an after thought.
Elizabeth smiles, suddenly feeling like sleep might come after all.
Elizabeth wanders into the mess hall in search of comfort food after a gruesome nightmare. The tear stained face of Rodney McKay causes her to stop mid-stride. It's too late to discreetly leave him to his sorrow. She approaches the table with a meek smile, hoping to demonstrate support.
"Do I appear too emotionally needy to you?"
Elizabeth attempts to mask the immediate response of her face, but Rodney picks up the meaning.
"Right—don't answer that."
"Rodney." Elizabeth tries to convince him not be so self—defeating.
"I got kicked out—after being told that I never shut up enough to listen—that both people should lend support in a relationship."
"Rodney, I'm sure…"
"No, I've killed the relationship," he looks forlorn, "just like I always do."
Elizabeth ponders for a moment, "Duct tape, Rodney."
"What?"
"Duct tape your mouth shut—demonstrate that you are willing to listen even though you need help to stop talking."
Rodney looks at her abashed, but his shoulders sink in defeat, "Excuse me while I go humiliate myself."
Elizabeth watches his defeated form exit the mess hall. Suddenly, the nightmare lost its feeling of reality—Rodney's position of humility is far more tangible than a monster.
Elizabeth feels startled when she realizes that her feet have guided her to the mess hall. As with all her late night visits, Rodney sits hunched at a table, but her brain is too tired to focus on the odd coincidence of that. Elizabeth considers whether she really wants to offer more advice-- the previous idea leading to Rodney appearing on numerous occasions with tape burn on his face and his wrists—somehow she didn't want to think about the kink she accidentally added to their sex life.
"Come to enjoy another night of McKay misery?"
"Rodney"
"For once, I can actually say that it's not my fault," he begins without waiting to see if Elizabeth actually wants to listen, "I missed our anniversary dinner because I was trapped on an alien planet," he sounds smug, "I came home to this," he points to the smattering of food on his chest, "Do you think it'll leave a stain?"
He glances up to get Elizabeth's reaction, but stops like a deer caught in the head lights. Her face is masked with guilt that even Rodney McKay can identify.
"I'm sorry, Rodney, this is my fault." She means more than just his troubled relationship, but the scientist that had died when an Ancient outpost had self-destructed.
Rodney frantically searches for the right words to say—to actually return the words of wisdom that Elizabeth has kindly offered in the past.
"Elizabeth even I can't see in the future—though I dearly wish that I could—we all know that ever time we step through the gate that we might not come back—Carmichael understood that—no one on Atlantis would ever think of blaming you for an accident on an Ancient outpost—these things just happen."
"Wow—that…"
"Don't expect it often."
"Go home, Rodney—the storm should have passed by now."
Rodney doesn't look so certain.
"It's fear—the thought of loosing someone dear-- that causes the anger."
"Are you sure?"
"There are no certainties in life." She acknowledges his previous words.
He nods and gets up from the table, "Get some rest yourself."
Elizabeth smiles, but knows that sitting here is the better option.
The grumbling of Elizabeth's stomach indicates her reason for entering the mess hall despite the late hour. Somehow in the chaos of the day she had forgotten to eat.
She spies Rodney typing furiously on a lab top.
"What brings you here tonight," she asks sitting down with a turkey sandwich.
"I honestly don't know—one minute everything was fine the next minute we're having a fight."
Elizabeth hides a smirk behind her sandwich.
"Please tell me this isn't a normal part of a relationship."
The partially eaten sandwich doesn't do much to hide the light in her eyes.
Rodney groans, exasperated, "This makes more sense to me than the social patterns of the human race." He turns the lap top around and Elizabeth shakes her head at the dazzling array of equation that run down the page.
"But then you would miss out on making up."
The smile that graces Elizabeth's lips is enough to convince Rodney McKay to pack up his work—whatever he is headed into he is certain it will be good.
Elizabeth wanders into the mess hall with the hopes that Rodney is suffering from the same caffeine induced insomnia that she is.
However, she doesn't expect to find him pacing the middle of the room, gesturing wildly.
"Rodney, is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes," he quickly hides a ring box in his pocket, "everything for once is just fine."
She wonders why after all the midnight advice sessions that he won't share with her especially since he looks like he's about to burst.
"The human psyche amazes me," Rodney begins a rambling observation, "We're driven as a species to seek a life partner, but the process of living together drives both parties insane. I just don't get it."
"Love is a very powerful emotion, Rodney."
"That is why I should just stick to machines."
"I have a feeling that someone very special would be disappointed if you decided that."
"Yeah," Rodney smiles at the encouragement he so desperately needed.
"Good luck."
"Thanks."
"Do I get to find out who on Atlantis is willing to put up with you?" she asks as he's leaving.
"When we're ready, you'll be the first to know," he strides out the door—the confidence back in his step.
Elizabeth shakes her head at the intricacies of this man.
Elizabeth hears a knock on her door and gets up to answer it. Much to her amusement and pleasure she finds Rodney McKay on her door step holding two bowls of ice cream.
"The Daedalus just arrived with a new shipment—I thought you might want some."
She accepts the bowl, "Rodney, how do you know what my favorite type of ice cream is?'
"I think everyone on Atlantis learned what your favorite type of ice cream is after the first shipment arrived."
Elizabeth blushes at the memory of a rather embarrassing childish moment.
Rodney smiles when Elizabeth indicates he should sit down and starts a conversation that has nothing to do with the inner workings of Atlantis. He may find romantic relationships a pain, but this friendship thing is kinda working for him.
The End
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