TITLE:In Quiet Night
TIME: Right after "Pegasus Project," probably AU from there
CATEGORY: Drama, Action, Hurt/Comfort
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine... they're... just not mine. :-(
"What would you do if the stars weren't there?"
Sheppard almost laughed at that. It was the kind of question a psychologist asked when there were ten minutes left in the session and he was out of material. The Colonel had always been a bit disinclined to entertain gibberish.
He didn't laugh, though, just shrugged and leaned against the balcony rail. "I'd probably get contacts."
"I'm trying to be serious here," McKay said, oddly unaccusing.
"Then try harder."
McKay's eyes shut for a couple seconds, then reopened, like he was taking the world's longest blink, but there was still no frustration to be found in his countenance. He took a deep breath, then spoke again.
"I just wonder, if none of that was out there, what would there be for us?"
Sheppard eyed his friend with a cocked head.
"Have you been smoking peyote, McKay?"
That didn't draw the icy barb Sheppard was expecting, though. In fact, it didn't draw anything. Instead, McKay raked a hand through his short hair and stared into the dark expanse, deathly serious. It wasn't a look he wore well and Sheppard was more than a little unsettled by it, as he was by the peculiar accumulation of sweat on the man's forehead. The soldier decided to humor him.
"I don't know, Rodney. Maybe we'd just worry about things we could actually touch." He watched the scientist before continuing. "What would you do?"
McKay shook his head, concentrating hard, and as he answered, his voice was devoid of sarcasm and tension and all the things Sheppard was used to hearing any time the man opened his mouth. There was just a spooky calm that he could have blown tumbleweed through.
"I don't know. I wish I did," McKay said, softer than Sheppard had ever heard him. "I think it would be a very quiet night."
They were both silent after that, McKay ensconced in whatever had led him to say what he'd said and Sheppard trying to peg what the hell had happened to put his friend in this dark mood. He supposed something might have occurred during McKay's excursion on the Odyssey, but he'd given no previous indication that that was the case and Mitchell and Carter had been beaming that the day's mission was a total success. Perhaps he'd speak to them again, though, before they left.
He didn't get anything else out of McKay on the subject. After a couple minutes, the subdued man took a step back from the railing and smoothed down his shirt, then wiped the perspiration from his brow. When McKay spoke again, his voice had reverted back to the norm, glib and put-upon.
"Well, anyway, I have work to do."
Sheppard coughed into his hand, more to hide his discomfort than anything else. "Right, yeah."
As McKay turned to walk off, his friend watched him go and suddenly wasn't willing to let the moment pass so easily.
"You know, Rodney, I'm pretty sure that whole black hole slash nuclear warhead thing entitles you to take the evening off."
McKay turned back, chin raised defensively. "Yes, well, some of us do our jobs instead of punching out early."
"It's nine o'clock at night," Sheppard replied with a faint smile, gesturing to his watch.
The scientist didn't have a response to that, so he darted his eyes about for a few seconds, then turned and left without another word. When he was gone, Sheppard stared after him, sighing at the empty spot where McKay had stood.
"That was interesting."
He turned back to the rail and resumed his former posture, leaning down. When he looked up at the stars again, they seemed different this time, finite. He considered McKay's unusually abstract musings. What a waste of night it would be.
"Colonel Sheppard." Elizabeth's voice rang through his ear.
Sheppard tapped his headset. "Go ahead."
"Something's come up. I need you to assemble your team in the conference room in thirty minutes."
Her tone didn't offer him any clue as to the nature of the meeting, as it seldom did in such matters, so he cast a line.
"Is this 'the Wraith are on our doorstep' something's-come-up or 'we forgot Carson's birthday again' something's-come-up?"
He could tell she was smiling when she replied. "Somewhere in-between."
"Right," Sheppard drawled. "See you in a minute."
All his attempts to contact McKay via headset were fruitless over the course of the next few minutes and when Zelenka wasn't sure of his whereabouts, Sheppard settled for finding Teyla, who was leisurely working at an Athosian dessert whose name he couldn't recall. What he did recall was that it tasted like stale cake. She seemed to quite enjoy it, though, and when he sat down across from her, her eyes were shut in an apparent effort to savor the taste.
"I've never seen anyone besides McKay get that much pleasure from a fork-full of food," he said.
Teyla opened her eyes and looked at him, but he didn't get the warm twitch of the lips that he was expecting. Instead, she was looking at him with the polite dispassion she reserved for when she was mad at someone, but had no desire to argue.
Oh boy, he thought.
"Hello, Colonel. Is there something I can do for you?" she asked placidly, setting her fork down on the table.
Sheppard was careful to make it sound like she had a choice, given her apparent discontent.
"Elizabeth's called a meeting in twenty minutes," he said, carefully selecting a grin from his catalogue. "Would love it if you'd stop by."
Teyla nodded. "Of course."
Sheppard clapped his hands together. "Great. Have you seen Rodney, by the way?"
At that, a flicker of darkness passed through her eyes, but it was gone in a moment's time and her demeanor was mild again.
"I passed him on his way to his quarters. He said it was..." She paused. "Too loud to work in his lab."
Sheppard stared at her, searching her expression. He was getting the distinct impression that she was trying to keep something from him, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe she'd just noticed how "off" McKay was tonight too.
"All right," he said, slipping out of his chair. "Do me a favor and grab Ronan, would you?"
Teyla nodded her acceptance without hostility and for a moment, Sheppard thought maybe he'd imagined her dissatisfaction with him. Even if he hadn't, this wouldn't be his first dance – Teyla had been mad at him plenty of times and she always got over it.
He left the commissary and made his way through Atlantis' winding corridors until he arrived at McKay's quarters.
With a jocund knock that couldn't be mistaken, he called through the door. "Hey, Rodney, it's me."
A few seconds passed before he heard the bed inside creak and a few more passed before the door slid open to reveal McKay, looking more haggard than before. He looked utterly exhausted, and when Sheppard glanced past him, he could see that the laptop on the scientist's desk wasn't open. Apparently McKay had thought better of working.
"What is it you could possibly want at this ungodly hour?" the man snapped.
Sheppard smiled disarmingly. "Ungodly hour? Before, it was too early to punch out and now it's ungodly? Make up your mind, McKay."
"You have ten seconds before I close the door."
"Now you're just being dramatic."
"10, 9..."
"You're doing an actual countdown?"
"7..."
"Elizabeth's called a little pow wow," the soldier finally said.
"What's going on?"
Sheppard shrugged before sparing a second to take in McKay's appearance. The sweat that had been less noticeable in the relative dark of the balcony looked much more pronounced in the harsh light coming from Rodney's quarters. His hair was just a bit damp and his eyes held a hint of chaos. More than usual, at least.
"You feeling all right, Rodney?" Sheppard asked.
"I'm fine," McKay grumbled, wiping his moist face with the back of his arm. "It's hot in here."
Sheppard stepped into his quarters uninvited, holding his arms out to denote that he was checking the temperature. Rodney rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Seems pretty cool in here to me, actually," Sheppard said.
"I wasn't aware you had a degree in meteorology."
"No, but having spent thirty-seven years experiencing various temperatures, I do know the difference between hot and cold."
"Thirty-eight," McKay corrected. Sheppard feigned confusion. "You're thirty-eight, not thirty-seven. Stop lying about that. What are you, a Dominican baseball player?"
For once, it was Sheppard who was too flustered to retort. McKay smiled in that self-congratulatory way he had, then gestured toward the door.
"Well. Shall we?"
When they arrived at the conference room, McKay was hit with a sense of deja vu. Elizabeth was seated at the head of the long table, joined by Sam, Daniel, Cameron, and Vala. Opposite them, Teyla and Ronan sat with what could only be called wary expressions.
McKay couldn't help but notice the casual contempt Cameron eyed him with and it seemed the mere sight of the acerbic man was enough to change Sam's neutral expression to one of exasperation. He had tried so hard to be pleasant in the last meeting they had here too. His head pounded as he watched them.
Sheppard slid into the chair beside Ronan, and McKay beside Teyla.
"Let me guess, you guys decided you'd miss Rodney too much and now you're putting in for transfers," Sheppard offered.
Sam smiled briefly, but it became more of a grimace as the thought sank in. Before she could speak, though, Daniel cut in, effervescing with excitement as he usually was when he had something to share.
"Not quite. Dr. Weir, may I?"
"By all means."
Daniel turned to address Sheppard's team, making eye contact with each of them in even intervals as he spoke.
"I came here for the names of the two planets in the Milky Way that might potentially be home to Merlin's weapon, but I thought it would be prudent to skim the Atlantis database while I was here."
"Just a little light reading before bed," Cameron added dryly.
McKay frowned behind tired eyes. "You 'skimmed' the database? In what, four hours?"
There wasn't any sardonic note to his words, just genuine confusion, but it drew him no dearth of annoyed glares.
Sheppard and Cameron spoke warningly in stereo. "McKay."
"It's a question!" the scientist groused, wiping his damp forehead again. "You could at least wait until I act like a jerk to get mad at me. If you're patient enough, it's bound to happen."
Sheppard's tight-lipped expression implied that a curt reply was to follow, but Daniel cut him off smoothly. "No, he's right. It was a shot in the dark at best, but I got very, very lucky."
"What did you find?" Teyla asked.
"I was reading about the Ancients' experiments into a weapon with very selective targeting capabilities, meant specifically for living things. The way Sam explained it to me, it sends out something similar to an EM pulse, except it's attuned to the electro-magnetic activity in people. It basically puts a stop to every function in the humanoid body..."
"Yes, yes. Listen, as much as I love a deplorable fairy tale, there's not much point to discussing this. The experiments ended at a very early stage. The Council didn't care for it," McKay interjected, running a hand through his slick hair. "And before you go asking me to pull up the schematics and spin straw into gold again..."
Vala spoke up with wide eyes, oblivious to the reference. "You can spin straw into gold?"
"Well... not in the literal sense," the scientist replied, "But it's basically the same–"
Cameron shook his head impatiently. "McKay! We're not asking you to do anything."
Rodney seemed genuinely surprised at that, shrinking back in his seat in a blatant betrayal of his disappointment. "Oh... then..."
Sheppard swallowed a groan as he watched McKay lead the orderly briefing off-track, but his words were softer and less vexed this time when he chastised his friend, who looked a bit too sickly for his liking.
"Rodney, what do you say we save the praise-question-polish bit 'till Dr. Jackson's finished?"
McKay crossed his arms as a child might after being denied a precious toy, but there wasn't the usual bravado behind it and he said nothing further, and after Sheppard offered an expression of apology to SG-1 across the table, Elizabeth gestured for Daniel to continue. Teyla rested her hand on McKay's knee, giving it a gentle pat as the archaeologist resumed his briefing, and the scientist met her eyes with appreciation.
"According to the archives, the experiment was being conducted by two men – Janus and Bedwyuvius," Daniel said. "Of course, we're all well aware who Janus is, but it was the second name that struck me."
"Old college buddy?" Sheppard asked.
"Arthur's old college buddy. Take out the 'wy' and you get the Latin, Beduvius. In English, it's Bedivere."
Teyla and Ronan cast subtle glances of confusion at McKay and Sheppard. Obviously, that wasn't a name they heard in bedtime stories here in the Pegasus. Sheppard glanced over at them in acknowledgment, then back at Daniel.
"As in, Sir Bedivere of the Round Table?" he asked carefully, not caring to admit that his own recollection of the man went only as far as a Noble Knights dinner theater in Las Vegas.
Daniel nodded in the affirmative, opening a thick, well-worn book with yellowing pages and sliding it across the table for the Atlantis team to look at.
"Sir Bedivere was considered by many to be Arthur's most loyal ally. That's an illustration of him as he commonly appears in Arthurian mythology. Once I found the name in the database, I went back and found a visual of Bedwyuvius."
He slid his chair back and pressed a key on a laptop. The view screen behind him came to life with Bedwyuvius' archival image.
Teyla looked from the book to the view screen and back again before turning to Daniel. "The resemblance is undeniable."
"I think there's a good chance he completed his work," Daniel said.
Ronan spoke now, skeptical. "And what makes you think that?"
"According to legend, Sir Bedivere, at King Arthur's request, returned Arthur's sword Excalibur to the depths of a lake after a great battle. I think they've got the details fuzzy, though. Merlin was the leader of the high council of Atlantis when Bedivere was working on his weapon, and I think the legend is actually a reference to Merlin's order that Bedivere destroy whatever existed of it."
McKay shook his head. "And what about that implies that he didn't destroy it?"
"Because in the narrative, Arthur asked Sir Bedivere to return the sword to the lake several times and each time, Sir Bedivere attempted to conceal the fact that he didn't follow through," Daniel said, each word becoming more earnest. "I think his weapon was completed, and I think it's still on the planet where he built it here in Pegasus."
Sheppard tilted his head, impressed. "Nice."
McKay sighed, turning his eyes down to look at the table sulkily and watching a droplet of sweat fall onto the back of his hand.
"Does this mean I won't be sleeping in tomorrow?"
Author Note: Hope you guys enjoyed. This is my first fic, so be tender. :) Feedback is like soul food, even constructive complaints, so please leave me a review! Hell, you can tell me to stop and not bother with the rest of this if you want! This was just exposition to set up the rest, so I tried to make it quick-paced, as you could probably tell from it being heavy in dialogue and short on description. Description and character introspection will be focused on more as we get going.