Those Who Can't Teach

by Helen W.

An 'Identity' tag

"You do realize, Radek, that if I'd wanted to deal with other people's issues, I'd have stayed in academia."

"You were an academic?"

"Yes."

"They fired you, didn't they?"

"Nobody told me those review-your-professor forms mattered!"

"But you must have liked all those nineteen-year-olds calling you 'Dr. McKay.'"

"I don't know what they called me. I didn't realize I was supposed to be talking with them. Ever."

"Then how did you know that any of them had, as you put it, issues?"

"Oh, trust me. I could tell. They were crying all the time."

"I think I am safe in saying that that wasn't entirely their issue."

"And anyway, I don't think bleeding from a gut wound your girlfriend gave me counts as an issue."

"You can't blame Jennifer!"

"Oh, I can, I just haven't figured out how yet."

"See, blame-finding's an issue. I can spot them. I think I could have been a psychologist, even."

"Thank God for physics."

"And it's completely your fault you're bleeding, anyway. You obviously should still be in the infirmary. You shouldn't have let Chavez let you go. I'm going to talk to Jennifer about him."

"Nobody let me go, Rodney. I felt the change in vibration and knew it must be the quantum power decoupling array. So I put on my uniform and came to see what you had broken."

"Nobody stopped you?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly obvious."

"And I didn't break the array."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't!"

"Yes, Rodney, you did. My sign clearly stated that I'd left the system in a delicate state."

"Yes, well, I hadn't realized how delicate."

"Perhaps I should have used bigger letters? Multiple colors?"

"Well…"

"And maybe screwed it back together a bit more securely."

"You think?"

"Or maybe used guard pigeons."

"Um, are you serious about the pigeons? Because if you are, that's a really bad sign."

"I promise not to go into shock before the medics arrive."

"It's just, I'm usually the one bleeding and Teyla's usually the one applying pressure with the torn t-shirt."

"Teyla's t-shirt? Lucky you."

"Ewww. That's like dating my sister!"

"Your sister's cute too."

"Ewww!"

"So why were you tampering with the array, anyway? I assure you, completing its refurbishment is my top priority. And much more my area of expertise, even you must admit."

"Well, it had to be taken care of soon, and I knew you'd be milking your injury…"

"Milking! You call lying here on the floor milking?"

"Well… I just didn't want you to have to worry about it."

"Well, thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Oh, Rodney, I will be mentioning this. Often."

"Radek…"

"When you win your Nobel, I will tell people of the time you tinkered with a project I was in the middle of, and cut power to a third of the city, and I had to sneak out of the infirmary and walk several miles uphill because the transporters were out to see what you had done. And they will buy me drinks."

"It wasn't an important third."

"Yes, true."

"And it wasn't uphill."

"They will not know this."

"And you were fine until you tried to reach for the phase relay and tore all your stitches."

"I will leave that part out. Unless you think it will get me more drinks…"

"Nobel, eh?"

"You will note that there are no witnesses to this conversation."

"Hey, here they come!"

"Wonderful."

"I'll stay and put things put back together."

"Probably have the transporters working by the time we get to the infirmary."

"Yes, well… Sorry."

"Okay, now I do think I am getting delusional, because I am hearing things."

"Don't get used to it."

"Heh, Rodney, if I wanted to intimidate people, I'd have stayed in academia."

"How long did you last?"

"Two semesters. They, uh, assigned me a teaching mentor after the first one."

"Didn't help?"

"The students, you know, so sensitive."

THE END

Thanks, carolyn claire, for the general idea for this story!

Feedback of any kind, in any form, is welcomed, here or to helenw at murphnet dot org.