Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. And for the further record, I have nothing against Buddhism - which you should guess by the fact that I've been reading enough of it recently to even think of starting a story with it. But I do think that Rodney would have - um - difficulty - with a lot of the concepts it embraces.

Irrational

'This is one of the most fundamental points in Buddhism, that all existence and phenomena in this world do not, ultimately, have any substantial reality.'

Elizabeth paused in her reading and glanced over at Rodney where he sat in the chair opposite her. He had a rather blank look on his face and didn't appear to have even noticed that the sound of her voice had ceased. She smiled. No doubt he was miles away, probably working on calculations required by his latest lab project. She found the scrap of paper she'd been using as a bookmark, slid it between the pages and then laid the heavy volume carefully on the arm of her chair. He still hadn't made any movement to show he'd noticed the silence. Amused, she clasped her hands together in her lap, leant forwards slightly and said in a playful voice, 'You know, Rodney, I'm not forcing you to listen.'

Something in her tone – perhaps simply the fact that she was addressing him directly rather than just reading – must have percolated into his consciousness because he raised his head and blinked at her. 'What? Oh – no, I don't mind, really.'

She gave him a look, 'Rodney, you know I appreciate your company, but I'm just studying.' She shrugged slightly, 'Comparative religion is one of the Top Ten favourite topics of politicians here in the Pegasus Galaxy, and I'm tired of not being able to give better answers. And it just so happens that I find learning more effective if I read aloud while I study. That doesn't mean you have to pretend to listen.'

As she spoke, a miffed look invaded his face. 'I'm not bored. And I'm not pretending, either. I just think it all seems a little implausible.'

She raised her eyebrows, 'That reading out-loud makes studying simpler? Rodney, I've heard you muttering away to yourself while you work.'

'No,' he said, impatiently, 'Not that. The fact that somebody could seriously believe that the world has no substantial reality.'

'Oh.' Elizabeth's voice was small and it was her turn to blink. 'My apologies, Rodney. Obviously you were listening.'

He shrugged, shifted slightly in his chair, looked past her shoulder. 'Well, would I bother sitting here otherwise?'

Elizabeth didn't answer, because honestly, she wasn't entirely sure. Despite the length of time that she had known Rodney, there were still aspects to him that she couldn't claim to fully understand yet. Perhaps that was half the reason she so enjoyed his company so much: she was by nature a student of humanity and Rodney – well, Rodney was an intricately complex specimen.

Perhaps something of what she was thinking was visible on her face – and he had an uncanny ability for reading her thoughts, given how obtuse he could be with other things – because he rolled his eyes upwards and groaned, 'Oh, please. I have better things to do that actually voluntarily bore myself. I happen to like listening to you read.' And then he paused, took his gaze back away from her face and looked past her shoulder again, as though he'd said something forbidden. She nodded curtly, telling herself that he had actually meant to say that he liked listening to what she read. Absently, she unclasped her hands and picked the book back up, flicking through the pages without seeing them. Sometimes, he made her… she wasn't entirely sure.

'So,' she asked, as though his comment and his nervous looking-beyond-her hadn't happened, her voice shifting into a playful mode, 'The world according to Rodney is unquestionably real?'

He shrugged, 'Well, obviously. You can touch it, see it, measure it.'

She smiled, 'Only what you can measure is real?'

He shrugged again, relaxed slightly, leant back just a fraction in his chair with the air of someone who knows what he's he talking about - and knows that he knows it. 'Well, I never believed in ghosts, if that's where you're heading. Don't get me wrong, there are things we haven't worked out how to measure, but that doesn't meant they can't be measured.'

Elizabeth looked at him sitting there and her smile broadened, 'So despite all the incredible things we've seen, you still hold that everything has an explanation, that everything is rational?'

She had, to be honest, been expecting an amusing debate, but to her surprise the arrogant look on his face vanished and he shook his head and said in a low voice, 'Explainable, yes. But not everything is rational.'

On days like this, she felt that Rodney was the closest thing she had to a best friend. She leant towards him like a conspirator, 'Really? Do tell me more; I'm intrigued to hear your list of irrationalities.'

He fixed his eyes on her. 'Well. Some aspects of popularised quantum theory. A lot of what goes under the name of crowd psychology. Most reality television, and the fact that it's even in production. The fact that we could bring ourselves, our food, and our medicines to Atlantis, but not my cat.'

She nodded, grinning – mildly surprised he knew what crowd psychology was, admittedly – then put her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in her hands. This was the reason she liked his company. He managed to be amusing without even knowing it. She honestly didn't know why he always waited for everyone else she cared about to be offworld before he would spend real time with her. 'Go on,' she urged happily.

He leant forwards a little, bringing his eyes down to her level, and suddenly her amusement teetered and vanished in the light of the expression she saw in them. 'Lots of things aren't rational,' he said huskily, 'This isn't rational.'

And suddenly he was even closer and his lips were on hers and he was kissing her and to her surprise, her thoughts blinded, paused in mid-movement, she was kissing him back.

And then he was out of her reach, pulled away, watching her, 'Me telling you how I feel isn't rational.'

Her blood pounded, brains racing overtime.

'But nor, Elizabeth, is that.' He pointed at the wedding-ring on her finger before standing up and leaving the room with a hissing of doors.

She sat back in her chair, the book dropped to the floor unnoticed, stunned at him and more stunned at herself, and turned John's ring on her finger in sudden agitation.

Oh, God, Rodney, no, you're right. None of what you just did was in the least bit rational.

And she put her face in her hands and sought to hide from her own heart.