Unobtainable

It was awkward. Ever since the Cadman incident and the kiss, things for Drs. Rodney McKay and Carson Beckett had gotten very awkward indeed. Over the past two weeks, they had barely talked at all, that is, outside of Rodney's regular visits to the infirmary, but even those Rodney had tried to keep to a minimum. But were they, say, to run into each other in the hall, Carson would immediately look flustered, mutter something about a medical examination he needed to attend to, and then vanish from Rodney's sight before the astrophysicist could even attempt to do the same.

At first, Rodney had to admit, this kind of behavior from Carson was a blessing. Since it was Carson doing the running, and not the other way around, Rodney was not only spared the trouble and humiliation of coming up with an excuse and running himself, but he was also ultimately able to come out as the better, less immature party. He quite enjoyed being the superior human being yet again, but he had to admit, he did miss being able to talk to Carson. Carson was his friend, maybe his only friend, and even though Rodney would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, he was lonelier than usual without him.

So, after two weeks, Rodney had had quite enough. He decided to feign having a migraine in order to have an excuse to go down to the infirmary and see Carson, where he would confront him. His reasoning behind the decision? It was yet another opportunity for him to come out as the better man, one willing to be responsible and mature enough to actually talk about this whole mess they were in. Truthfully, though, he knew Carson had plenty of other friends to keep him company, which meant he could keep up his current behaviour indefinitely, and if there was one thing Rodney McKay disliked more than the countless other things he disliked, it was those things which were undefined.

He decided to sacrifice his lunch break for the trip to the infirmary, which for him was quite the sacrifice indeed. As he walked in, a nurse acting doubly as a receptionist asked him the nature of his ailment.

"Yeah, tell Beckett it's just a migraine, but that a full-body scan is probably in order," Rodney said in a tone like he would have done all of this himself if he were allowed. "You know, knowing me," he added with a faint but smug smile.

The receptionist nurse responded with a blank stare. She did not know Dr. McKay, and something told her she was better off for it. At length, she spoke.

"Dr. Beckett is off clinical duty today, but I can tell you with much certainty what he would have done if he were here - given you some painkillers and sent you on your way. However, simply because of how damned slow it's been here today, I might as well go ahead and examine you, just to be safe."

Realizing his presence here had just become a huge waste of his lunchtime, Rodney was just about ready to protest, but the nurse had already gotten up and was reaching for a blood pressure meter, and Rodney found himself, as always happened when he was in the company of a medical professional, unable to defy her authority. So she took his blood pressure and his temperature, determining both to be a little higher than average for a man of his age and weight (though for Rodney they were perfectly normal), gave him a small pillbox of painkillers (which he decided to stash for later), and said he was fine to return to work.

Seeing as he was already running late, Rodney did this pretty much immediately. Getting back to his lab, he felt hungry and cranky - more than usual, that is - and the other scientists and engineers working under his supervision knew they would have to suffer because of it. Radek Zelenka was there as well, as the project currently being tackled had both his and Rodney's departments working together.

Rodney had made up his mind to complete the workload he had assigned for himself today in half the time so he could finish before midnight and perhaps be able to catch Carson in his quarters after dinner. Thus, he was not only starving, disappointed, and grumpy, but also rushed, overworked, and feeling very claustrophobic from the amount of people currently crowding his lab. Also, they were people, and people in general he did not much like. Soon enough, even that imaginary migraine of his bore its way through his head and into existence, and for a moment he was actually grateful he made the trip to the infirmary and now had the painkillers on him. Nevertheless, as the afternoon wore on, he became so utterly obnoxious and impossible to work with that Radek actually had to go and get him a muffin and a coffee from the cafeteria. Rodney inhaled these in about ten seconds and spent the rest of his shift sulking, albeit quietly.

He finished at around nine o'clock, and was the last to leave his lab, as always. He knew Carson would have had dinner hours ago, and could only hope he had not decided to call it a night yet. He decided to forego his own dinner (oh, what a painful decision that was!) in order to make sure he got a chance to talk to Carson that evening.

He stomped down the hallway, grumbling something about the coffee Radek had given him being decaffeinated, until he reached the nearest transporter. Once inside, he poked the area of the city map where the transporter closest to the living quarters was located, and was whooshed away instantaneously. Less than two seconds later, he was stomping out of the transporter and heading in the direction of Carson's room. As he turned right, then left, and then left again, he could not help but linger on how remarkably well he knew the way. Then he thought of Carson, and how he really did miss him, but he quickly shook those thoughts and reminded himself of the true reason he was here - to prove to Carson he was the better man.

Very suddenly, it seemed, he was standing right outside Carson's door. He waved his hand in front of the motion sensor, and heard the doorbell-like sound go off on the other side of the wall. Next he heard muffled footsteps approach the door, and then it finally slid open to reveal the form of Dr. Carson Beckett.

"Hi…!" Rodney said with a little wave while trying to look as friendly as he humanly could. Considering his foul mood, he actually did a rather good job at it.

But Carson reacted as he had been doing for the past fortnight. "I'm a little busy, Rodney," he muttered quickly, trying to avoid eye contact. "Lots of research to be done. Can't talk right now."

Rodney's smile faded from his lips and within a split second it was a scowl. As was often with him, his mood plummeted suddenly, and nothing was holding back his agitation now. "Oh, drop it, Carson! Just tell me what it is I did already! Is this because Cadman made me kiss you? Because, trust me - I had absolutely no say in that!"

Carson sighed, and his expression turned rather cold. "I suppose I should've made myself clearer: I can't talk to you about this."

Rodney opened his mouth to speak, about to make a quick and witty rebuttal, but then the implication of what Carson had said actually sunk in, and nothing came out but a deflated, "Oh."

Carson's expression softened and he looked almost apologetic. "Don't take it like that. This is just something… private."

"Yeah, but I'm sorta, like… your friend, I think," Rodney said indignantly, feeling as though Carson simply did not deem him capable of understanding the emotional side of things, and this unsurprisingly being a massive blow to his ego.

"Aye, you are," Carson said reassuringly.

"And aren't friends supposed to be able to talk about anything?" Rodney challenged.

"Aye, but this is about relationships, Rodney,and I know for a fact you're the last person who'd wanna talk about something like that."

"Then clearly you don't know me well enough!" Rodney replied smugly, though on the inside he was wincing.

Carson sighed and shook his head, though Rodney could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement on his face. "I still can't tell you."

"Yes, you can."

"No, Rodney."

"Yes, Carson."

"No."

"Okay, you give me one good reason why you can't tell me, and then I'll leave and never ask about this again," Rodney said finally, quite sure he had expertly argued Carson into a corner.

Carson, however, looked at Rodney sternly and Rodney felt a creeping doubt begin to form in his underdeveloped little heart. He could see in the Scot's translucent eyes that the reason was there, and could tell by his contemplative facial expression that he was merely unsure whether to give it or not. Rodney suddenly grew afraid that he would.

"I can'ttell you, because…" Carson began, and Rodney found himself holding his breath, "… because… because you are sodding right, okay?"

For several moments there was a silence, during which Carson looked awkward and Rodney looked thoroughly confused. The self-proclaimed genius thought back to all the moments throughout this conversation in which he had been right - which were very few, mind - and remembered one in particular, a possibility from the very beginning, one which Carson neither confirmed nor denied.

"The kiss?" Rodney asked incredulously. "Oh, so thishas to do with Cadman!"

Carson looked at Rodney just as incredulously, both relieved and yet completely astounded by the latter's deduction. "Aye, I suppose," he replied.

"I knew it!" Rodney exclaimed triumphantly, and proceeded to shove past Carson and enter his quarters. He headed straight for the kitchen. "Now let's talk about this like a friend trying to help out another friend. I'm sure I have plenty of advice I can offer you!"

Carson rolled his eyes. "I seriously doubt that…." he grumbled under his breath, then followed Rodney inside.

Rodney was engrossed by the contents of Carson's fridge, but soon enough he emerged from the kitchen with an apple in his mouth and a packaged sandwich in his hands. He placed the sandwich on top of Carson's dining table and sat down. Taking the apple out of his mouth, he smiled at Carson expectantly. "Well, sit!" he said, patting the back of the chair beside him.

Carson sighed and sat down in a chair perpendicular to Rodney's. Slouching back in his seat, he raised his eyebrows at the astrophysicist.

Rodney started off by taking a hearty bite out of his apple. After a couple of chews, however, he withdrew it by nearly arm's length and fixed it with a suspicious glare. "This hasn't been around any lemons… has it?" he asked, turning to Carson with a distrustful look on his face.

"No, Rodney," Carson replied, unable to keep himself from smiling just a little bit.

"Well, good!" was Rodney's response as he took another bite out of the apple. "Now, let's get to business!"

"Aye," Carson replied, sounding about as excited as a ten-year-old at the dentist.

"So what's so bad about Cadman?" Rodney asked happily. He looked at Carson shrewdly and grinned. "You not getting any?"

"Och! What gave you that idea?"

"Well, either that, or she keeps throwing herself at you so much that you simply can't keep up… you know, sexually."

Carson's facial expression turned to a combination of disgust and confusion. "Try neither," he suggested.

Rodney took a third bite out of his apple, chewed thoughtfully, then, finally, "You lost me," he said with an innocent smile.

Carson sighed louder than he had done all night and slouched forward over the table. "Laura and I broke up, Rodney."

Rodney's smile faded from his face. "Wh-what?" he stuttered. "Why?"

"I should've seen from the very beginning that we weren't right for each other. Things just got… awkward."

"Wh-why?" Rodney repeated like a broken record.

"Well, truth be told…" Carson began carefully, as if this were very unstable ground he was treading on, "… I might have my sights set on someone else."

Within a moment, Rodney's smile had returned to his face, but it was a slightly accusing one. "Carson, you dog! Romancing two ladies at once? I honestly must say I didn't see that one coming! So tell me -"

"So how are things going with you and Katie?"

Rodney was thrown so far off track by the sudden change in subject that for a moment he was completely lost. "Who?"

"Dr. Brown…? The botanist you went on a date with two weeks ago…?"

"Oh, her… what about her?"

"Are you two dating?"

"Actually, I haven't talked to her since."

"Really now? Why's that?"

"I just don't think saying, 'Hey, remember me? I'm the guy who was forcefully made to kiss you the other week!' is a proper way of rekindling a relationship with a woman. Hey, wait a second. Why the interest in Brown all of a sudden? Please tell me she's not the object of your affections!"

"No, no, Rodney! Trust me. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Then who is she?"

"Now, that I definitelycan't tell you."

"Oh, but not if I can guess it myself!"

"Aye, but you never will."

"But if I do, you will tell me, right?"

"Aye… but you never will."

"Oh, please! I am easily the smartest person in this city and you know it. No offense."

"None taken…." Carson grumbled through gritted teeth. "I just want you to try, fail, and then let me get to sleep already!"

"Sounds good to me! Other than the failing part, of course, because Rodney McKay knows nothing of failure!"

"… Just the other day you burned your fingers by sticking them inside a pot of coffee…."

"Well, I couldn't damn tell if the coffee was still warm from the outside, now, could I!"

"You could've -"

"Now that we're back on topic, for my first guess I'd like to nominate…" (for this Rodney did an excited little drum roll on the table with his index fingers) "… Elizabeth!"

"Really? Why her?" Carson asked perplexedly.

"Well, she's the boss, and you seem like the kind of guy who'd prefer having the woman be in control of the relationship, so it's a perfect match!"

"Okay, first of all, Elizabeth being the boss would make any kind of relationship highly inappropriate for both of us. Second of all, I prefer both parties having equal control of the relationship. Third of all, I have never looked at her nor even considered her that way. And, finally… no."

"Oh. Well, not to worry! I have plenty of other possibilities in mind! Take, for example, Teyla. She's beautiful and she can hold her own in hand-to-hand combat better than anyone else on this base. Oh, and she's probably lonely because she barely gets to see her people as they're all on the mainland nowadays. What's not to like?"

"Rodney… you can't feel attracted to somebody based on how lonely he or she is."

"… You can't?"

"No, Rodney.Teyla is a very sweet girl who is wise far beyond her years, but I'm afraid she's just not my type."

"Not your type? Hey, was that a clue? That was a clue, wasn't it? Aha! So you're not too much into the action type, are you? More into the intellectual chicks, I see?"

One of Carson's eyebrows was slowly creeping up his forehead as he stared at Rodney. "I suppose that's one way to put it."

"Samantha Carter," Rodney blurted out suddenly.

"What? I barely know her! How does that even make sense?"

"Sorry, sorry, you're right! I shouldn't be letting my personal preferences get in the way of the greater truth. Let me think now."

While Rodney thought, he finished off his apple, threw the core into Carson's kitchen garbage, returned to the table, and started working on his sandwich. Meanwhile, Carson, who already had his arms lying on top of the table, now put his head down onto his arms and sat there quietly trying not to fall asleep.

"I've got it!" Rodney cried out suddenly, causing Carson to sit up in surprise. He stared at Rodney, looking a bit anxious. "Dr. Heightmeyer," Rodney announced. "You're both doctors of the people kind, so it makes perfect sense!"

"It's true I do respect Kate and her work very much…" Carson began, "… but I've heard tell she's already got her sights set on Major Lorne, actually."

"Does she? Then she'll find herself sorely disappointed, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ahem, I've heard tell that the Major, um, how do I put this? Bats for the other team, I'll say. Just don't tell anyone I've just told you this. You know the U.S. military and their policy on that kind of stuff…."

"Aye…."

"Okay, if not Heightmeyer, then… hmm… hmmmm… hmmmmmmmmmm -"

"Och, seriously?"

"Well, 'intellectual chick' doesn't really tell me much, does it? We're part of a science expedition, Carson. Nearly half the people on this base are intellectual chicks! Now gimme another clue."

"Okay. Sure."

"What, really?"

"I don't see why not," Carson said with a sigh. "You'll never figure it out anyway. What do you want to know?"

"What ethnicity is she? Black? White? Asian? South something?"

"White. Definitely white," Carson replied, laughing to himself all of a sudden.

Rodney did not seem to notice. He was deep in thought once again.

"Oh!" he cried out suddenly, snapping his fingers. "It's that nurse who was working today! What's her name…?"

"Nurse Chapel? No. Try again."

"Damn. What colour's her hair? She a blonde? Redhead? Brunette?"

"Brunette."

"Then it's gotta be Dr. What's Her Face! She works with Zelenka and, by extension, me from time to time. She's got a very perky… um… smile."

"I've no idea who you're talking about."

"Oh. Alright. What colour are her eyes?"

Carson was looking into Rodney's face for what seemed like the first time that night, but Rodney was just finishing up his sandwich and hardly noticed. "Dark grey," Carson replied at length, "like the stormy sea."

"Mmmkay," Rodney mumbled through his last mouthful. "Let me think…."

This question-and-incorrect-answer period continued for the next half-hour in quite the same way. Rodney would take a wild guess, be completely off, ask Carson for a hint (his requests becoming more and more inappropriate in nature), take another wild guess, and be completely off again. By the end of it, Carson was sitting with his head down on top of his arms once more, his eyes closed shut, mumbling in response to Rodney's unending line of questions.

Finally, "Carson," came Rodney's voice, sounding distant.

Carson painfully pried open his eyes to glance at the blurry shape of Rodney sitting across the table corner from him. "Aye…?" he croaked.

"I know who it is…!" Rodney said in a singsong voice, grinning wickedly.

"You… you… do?" Carson asked, sitting up immediately and sounding worried.

"Aye," Rodney replied in a teasing tone.

"Well," Carson said, visibly worried now, "who is it?"

Rodney took a deep breath, looking triumphant, and said, "There is an Athosian girl whom I watched weed her garden on the mainland the other day. I didn't get her name, and, to be honest, she wasn't much to look at from the front, but, damn, every time she bent down -"

"Are you serious?" Carson cried out in disbelief, his expression of pure disgust now.

"Well, you said she has a nice ass, so -"

"Rodney, just give it up! We've been at this for over an hour now, and you haven't even come close!"

"Well, it's not my fault all your clues are misleading!"

"'Misleading?'Maybe if you asked the right questions!"

"I asked every question I could think of!"

"But you left out the most basic one!"

"How basic can you get? I thought it safe to assume she was living rather than dead, organic rather than computerized, and human rather than alien!"

"That's exactly your problem! 'She, she, she!' You never bothered to ask if she even were a she!"

The silence which followed seemed almost unreal in contrast to the shouting match which had just taken place. Carson suddenly became very interested in his hands and Rodney just sat there with a stupefied expression on his face.

"Oh," Rodney finally managed.

"Aye…." Carson replied quietly.

"So you are…?"

"Aye."

"But I thought you were…!"

"No, Rodney."

"So you like…?"

"Aye, Rodney."

"But I though you liked -"

"Well, I can bloody well like both, can't I?"

There was another silence on Rodney's end, this one more uncomfortable than the last. Thankfully, or maybe not so much, Rodney finally spoke.

"I've just one question, Carson," he said.

Carson looked up at him miserably. "Aye?"

"Why the hell haven't you told me 'til now?" Rodney demanded, grinning madly.

Carson eyed him suspiciously. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you're my friend and friends are supposed to tell each other -"

"- everything. Right. I suppose the subject just never came up then."

"Oh, but now it has, and I'm about to guess the identity of your secret little crush!"

Carson laughed uneasily. "Are you now?"

"Yes, I am! It's Sheppard. Gotta be him. Everybody loves Sheppard!"

"Rodney… you're forgetting the very first clue I gave you."

"Oh, right! He's a nerd. How about that new guy - Ronon?"

"Ronon… doesn't really come off as the educated type."

"Really? Well, what do I know? First time I met him, I was hanging upside-down from a tree, and he wasn't exactly the chatty type," Rodney replied defensively, then scratched his head and fell silent. Just as Carson was about ready to put his head down again, Rodney threw up an index finger and stared at the doctor. "No… it can't be…." he whispered.

"What?" Carson asked quickly, his blue eyes widening.

"The science profession, the brown hair and grey eyes - it all fits!"

"Fits whom?" Carson asked cautiously.

"My God," Rodney continued, "I can't believe it! Carson, you're in love with Zelenka?"

"Radek? Goodness, no!"

Rodney gave out a great sigh of relief. "You nearly gave me a heart attack for a moment there!" he said. "Seriously, if it were Zelenka, I just might have stopped being friends with you," then, noticing Carson's shocked expression, he quickly clarified, "I joke, of course," but, leaning in closer and in a lower voice, "You have been warned," he added.

"Just keep guessing, Rodney," Carson replied, shaking his head.

And so Rodney did… for the next forty-five minutes. By the end of it, Carson was fast asleep with his head on his arms atop the table.

"Carson," Rodney said, coming out of his latest five-minute-long thought session and realizing the doctor had fallen asleep. "CARSON!" he borderline shouted.

Carson woke with a start. Sitting up, he blinked his eyes open. "Wha-what?" he stammered.

"I know who it is," Rodney replied. Carson sighed and looked at him doubtfully. "I really mean it!" Rodney cried out in self-defense. "This isn't like last time!"

Carson looked a little more serious as, "Well?" he said.

"It is…" Rodney said, doing a drum roll on the table again and then raising his index fingers in the air before him satisfactorily, "… the botanical technician with the star-shaped tattoo in charge of watering the plants around the living quarters of the senior officers on Tuesdays and Fridays!"

It took a good ten seconds for Rodney's description to make even the slightest amount of sense in Carson's semi-sleeping brain. Even then, all he could manage was a barely coherent, "What…?"

"Was I… close?" Rodney asked hopefully, but already his face was falling.

"Close? CLOSE? NO, YOU'RE NOT BLOODY CLOSE!" Carson yelled suddenly. "You did, however, just waste nearly two hours of my time, depriving me of precious sleep when I have a major surgery to conduct first thing tomorrow morning!"

Rodney found himself extremely disappointed that nearly two hours of his precious time and effort had apparently gone completely underappreciated. He, too, became angry, and the anger spilled out of him as he cried in his usual high-pitched manner, "Well, maybe if you had just told me who it was in the first place, I would've been long gone by now! Just tell me, Carson, and I'll leave you right now!"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're right again, Rodney! If I would've told you, you would've been gone; if I tell you right now, you'll leave and I'll never see you again!"

"What the hell are you even talking about? Just tell me already!"

"No!"

"You can't even give me a reason why, Carson! WHY CAN'T YOU TELL -"

"BECAUSE IT'S BLOODY YOU, RODNEY."

The silence which followed would have been welcomed by Carson at any previous point in time that night, but not now. Rodney just sat there, staring him straight in the face, but it was as though he did not see him. His expression was blank, except for the wide-open eyes, and Carson had no chance of deciphering what was happening inside that crazy, convoluted brain of his. At length, Rodney stood. Carson stood up from his seat as well, pushing his chair back in panic with a force nearly enough to knock it over onto the floor. Finally, Rodney turned his gaze away from Carson and directed it towards the door instead. He took a step in its direction, but Carson sprang into his way.

"Oi, and where are you going?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Let me pass, Carson," Rodney replied, gingerly pushing him out of the way while simultaneously trying to come into as little contact with him as possible. "Oh, and just… stay away, please." With that, Rodney stepped past Carson and left his quarters through the automatic sliding door, and Carson was left, finally, alone.

After a moment, Carson pushed the previously occupied chairs up towards the table, threw away Rodney's empty sandwich container, and crawled into bed. His brain buzzed loudly and his face burned, and sleep was soon out of the question.