Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis certainly does not belong to me.
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is a little something I've had in my head for a while, and it finally came out as this fic this weekend. I hope you like it. I'm not too sure about it myself, seems like there are things I could have written better. Anyway.
It was inspired by a conversation on GW, and the idea for McKay's gift was actually thought of by RiG!
"Yes, I used to paint with my mom when I was younger. She was an Arts teacher, you see, so it's kind of in my blood. And here, in Atlantis... Seems I've gotten my inspiration back."
Lorne was glowing as he gave Jennifer the painting. You could see from miles away that he was trying his charm on her, and that it was working. Her smile was laden with something suspiciously resembling admiration.
Rodney watched them from the other side of the table, feeling nauseated. She hadn't looked at him that way when he'd given her her gift. She'd even seemed... disappointed.
But really, what was wrong with a brand new stethoscope? Her old one was falling in ruins! And he'd even asked for her initials to be engraved on it!
"Evans, thank you so much... It's really beautiful."
She leaned forward to examine it as everyone around her oh'ed and ah'ed their admiration.
Lorne waved a hand in the air, modestly dismissing her compliment. He was making a poor job out of it, however, because he seemed smugly pleased at her reaction.
As much as Rodney hated to admit it, it was nicely done. It represented an airborne view of the city at dawn, rays of light expertly dancing across waves and piercing through buildings.
That damn military officer was talented.
And Jennifer was looking at him with that sparkling smile of hers.
"It's really beautiful. But I feel bad, it must have taken you so long…"
He shrugged, dismissing her words once again.
"Well, you know, when I paint, time doesn't really exist anymore. I'm in this place inside me where nothing else matters but beauty and how I can capture it." He looked down, clearly embarrassed. "I couldn't tell you how long it took me, but I know that I relished every second of it." Raising his eyes to meet hers once more, he smiled. "I'm just glad you enjoy the result as much as I enjoyed the creation."
"I do," she answered, and there was such honesty and intensity in her voice that it made Rodney's heart twist painfully. "I really do."
They smiled at each other for a while before Jennifer seemed to rise out of this 'moment' between them.
"Well," she said, "I think it's remarkable that you're making time for your passion. There really are few things as great as art, and those who cultivate it."
Lorne made another one of his modest comments, and the conversation eventually diverged on some vaguely renowned author. Rodney didn't hear a word of it.
There really are few things as great as art, and those who cultivate it.
As the words rang in his ears, he felt something foreign rise in his chest, settling in his heart and catching his breath.
Few things as great as art…
Wasn't she exaggerating? Science was obviously the greatest of all! And she'd needed a stethoscope, for God's sake!
What good could a flimsy painting do her?
Lorne had obviously succeeded in charming Jennifer for her to say such nonsense.
He could do it too, of course, if he wanted to, but he'd never stoop so low as to get down to his level.
He was the greater man of both.
Which was why it was really only a coincidence when the following morning Lorne couldn't get any hot water in his shower, and that the temperature in his room was freezing.
Of course he could do it too, if he set his mind to it.
He'd studied piano, after all, and he was certain he could use that to woo the ladies if he wanted to.
But he didn't want to, obviously.
He was the greater man of both.
He didn't even want to 'woo' Jennifer anyway. Why would anyone suggest such a thing?
She was a good friend, of course, very sweet, very nice and patient. And she was beautiful, too, but that didn't change anything. She was a friend.
And apparently, she had Lorne now, anyway.
No. That was not jealousy he felt. It was just… anger - anger at the thought of her wasting herself on someone like Lorne. He was so…
No. It didn't matter.
He wouldn't do it.
He had no willpower.
A few nights following Jennifer's birthday, he found himself hovering outside the door to the musical lab.
A year or so ago, some members of the expedition requested for a few musical instruments to be brought in Atlantis. It would help them relax, they said, and thus indirectly maximize their work efficiency. The project got approved, and this empty lab chosen as the perfect place.
He'd never really given a thought on that room before. If people wanted to waste their time on things like music, it was their own problem.
Now, however, he was nervously pacing outside the door, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why would anything ever entice him to play piano again?
No, that was just crazy.
He was halfway back to his room when a flash of Jennifer's sparkling smile went through his mind, followed by her eyes, bright with admiration. He stopped walking
Ugh.
Seems like he had his answer to his own question. Jennifer could make him do anything, without even realizing it.
Nocturne Op. 55 No. 1, Chopin.
It was a song he'd played when he was younger, a song he'd always loved for the emotions hidden inside – a song he loved until his teacher told him that according to the way he played it, he couldn't possibly understand what it was about.
He entered the room on tiptoe, expecting someone to jump out of the darkness and laugh at him for entertaining the ridiculous idea of Rodney McKay playing classical music.
He made his way to the piano unhindered, however, and sat down on the edge of the bench, slowly opening the cover.
Taking deep breaths, he placed his partitions in front of him and with trembling hands positioned his fingers on the notes.
He cringed at how loud the first sound was, and had to physically restrain himself from bolting from the room.
It's sound-proofed. No one will hear you.
But what if someone entered the room and saw him there? What would they think? What would he do? People would demand hearing him play, and he'd look stupid!
It's late. You came here in the dead of the night purposefully so that no one would ever walk in on you.
But you never know, someone might have trouble sleeping, and think a little music would help them sleep…
Well, tomorrow night you can bring your computer tablet and pretend to be looking at the ventilation system if anyone walks in.
Tomorrow night? No no no, there would be no tomorrow night. He wasn't coming back here, he didn't know what had possessed him, it was just crazy.
Who do you think you're kidding? Of course you're coming back tomorrow night. Now start practicing.
Dolefully obeying, McKay set his hands back on the notes and started playing.
It was a slow, painful affair. His fingers seemed to recall the pattern, but he couldn't make them reproduce it. They kept stumbling on chords, forgetting sharp and flat notes, refusing to meet the tempo.
It took him two hours to go through the song once, and by the end of it he was exhausted and depressed. It was all coming back to him: the endless practices, the disheartening comments of his teacher, the negative remarks of his father.
He remembered now why he'd steered clear of music for so long.
That had really been one of his stupidest ideas. There was no way he was coming back here.
The next few nights saw him sitting in front of the piano again, working his way through the song. It was still as excruciating as the first time: his fingers were rigid and ill at ease, his brain slow at processing chords. He wished he could lie to himself and pretend he'd gotten better, but he really couldn't bring himself to believe such a blatant lie.
He had no idea why he was still trying. Surely he would never let Jennifer hear such a horrific recital, so what was the point of carrying on?
Every night he swore to himself he wouldn't come back again, and the following one always found him in front of the piano, working relentlessly into the early hours of dawn until he was so exhausted he couldn't see the partitions straight.
Was he getting better? Was it only his mind playing tricks that everything sounded more melodic than before? That his fingers flowed more easily on the notes? That the chords didn't seem as unreadable as they previously had?
How he wished he was right…
He had been wrong. He definitely wasn't any better.
It was all useless. He would just let Lorne have Jennifer. After all, maybe the man deserved her more than he did.
There really are few things as great as art and he was awful.
The first time he played the song without any errors, he was so shaken that he couldn't play straight for the rest of the night.
It had only been luck. Who was he kidding? He wasn't good; he had no clue what he was doing.
He was done, and it frightened the hell out of him. Never in all those weeks of practicing had he ever really believed he would one day play in front of her. He'd practiced towards that goal, of course, but it had seemed such a far-fetched idea that he'd never taken the time to think about how it would happen, how she would react, what she would say.
Would she laugh? Would she find him completely ridiculous for harboring any sort of musical aspiration?
No, she wouldn't, of course. She was so nice, she'd never intentionally hurt his feelings. She'd smile, and compliment him, but he'd know, he'd see right through her: that sparkling smile wouldn't be there.
And of course it wouldn't be there. He'd never be good enough to deserve it. Worse, he'd make a fool out of himself. He'd probably make a thousand mistakes out of nervousness. Or more likely he'd completely forget how to play as soon as she was besides him.
And even if by some miracle he was able to play… It certainly wouldn't be the great performance he'd been hoping for. His teacher had told him when he was younger, and he feared she was right: 'A good technical player, with no emotions'.
Oh God, he wasn't ready.
Jennifer was getting frustrated, and worried, and she didn't like it at all.
The first time Sheppard forced Rodney in the infirmary, she hadn't thought much of it. John complained that McKay had been feeling tired for a week, at which point the scientist grumbled that he hadn't been sleeping well, and that it wasn't anyone's business. Sheppard's prompt reply was that it was his concern if he had to carry him back to the gate when he tripped on his own feet off-world because he was too tired to walk straight.
Rodney's retort wasn't exactly polite.
Smiling at their banter, Jennifer had examined Rodney for any signs of illness. Finding nothing, and putting his insomnia on his understandably high level of stress, she prescribed him some sleeping tablets and let him go.
The second time Sheppard brought McKay in the infirmary, she didn't find it so amusing. Rodney protested that it was nothing, that he'd only been feeling a little sick in the past week, making him sluggish and worn-out. He had been sleeping, and there was really no need for Kirk over there to baby-sit him.
She examined him again, but didn't find any trace of sickness: his eyes were clear, his throat wasn't swelling, his heart rate and blood pressure were the same as usual.
Perplexed, she told him he didn't seem sick at all. He answered he'd started feeling better over the last few days, and that was probably why she didn't detect anything.
Jennifer nodded slowly, uncertain. She thought his eyes were shifty as he talked, as though he was hiding something. And she knew Rodney enough to find suspicious that he hadn't come running to the infirmary as soon as he'd started feeling sick.
So she couldn't say she really believed his story, but there was not much she could do about it, except quietly warn John to come see her if things didn't get any better.
The third time Sheppard ordered Rodney into the infirmary, he looked more tired than ever, and she was definitely not taking this lightly anymore.
He explained that he was working late in his lab these days on a really important algorithm, and that he would catch up on sleep as soon as he was done.
This seemed like a perfectly believable story for McKay, but the shifty eyes were there again.
He was lying to her, she was almost sure of that.
It didn't surprise her that Zelenka's answer to her inquiry revealed that Rodney hadn't been in the lab overnight for about a month now, and that he wasn't working on any urgent project.
Oh, she was definitely annoyed. He'd lied to her, presumably three times by now, and it was time it stopped.
She watched him from the other side of the Mess hall during dinner, and discreetly followed him when he left. He went back to his quarters, and she settled herself in a dark corner of the hall with a book, waiting for him to come out and lead her to his secret.
It happened many hours later, well past midnight. She had long ago discarded her book and was dozing off when the sound of his door sliding open jolted her awake.
She looked up in time to see Rodney rush towards the opposite end of the hallway. She quickly got to her feet and set out to follow him.
He was going towards a mostly unused section of the city, and her perplexity was growing with every step she took. As far as she knew, there was nothing scientifically interesting in that part of Atlantis. What could he possibly be doing there?
Her musings were cut short when McKay stopped in front of a large door at the end of a corridor. She couldn't recall what was in that room, but she felt her curiosity reach new heights when she saw him pacing in front of it, his bearing an odd mixture of eagerness and anxiety.
He finally stopped walking, took a deep breath and entered the room, the door closing behind him. Jennifer walked up the remainder of the hall and paused in front of the room, listening for any sound coming from inside.
But either Rodney was being completely silent or the room was soundproofed, because she couldn't hear anything at all. Wanting to go to the bottom of this once and for all, she waved her hand in front of the controls. The door slid open quietly.
A melody immediately invaded the silent hallway.
Shocked, she took a step and entered the room.
There, with his back to her, was Rodney McKay playing the piano. And playing magnificently, with a passion and strength of feelings that stunned her.
It was a slow, powerful melody, oddly familiar. It reminded her of her father, left alone on earth; of her mother, who died so young; of past mistakes sorely regretted. It made her think back to her time in school, of her loneliness, of her dreams of something more.
It was beautiful, encompassing.
And it was Rodney playing, with a talent she didn't know he possessed.
He let the last notes echo in the sudden silence, releasing a sigh as they finally vanished.
He knew he was as ready as he'd ever be. Overcome with fears and doubts, he'd been putting off playing before her for a few days already, and he was starting to think he would never do it.
He might be the greatest genius in two galaxies, and have vast knowledge in all matters of science, but he had no confidence whatsoever in his musical skills…
It had taken him so much focus and emotions to play that one time that he simply didn't have the energy to go through it again. Taking his partitions in his hands, he got up and turned towards the door.
She was there.
He jumped and instinctively took a step back, his legs painfully colliding with the bench.
She was standing right there, in front of the door, and was looking at him, her eyes dark, unreadable.
A detached part of his mind noticed that the sparkling smile was missing.
They stared at each other in silence until Rodney could not withstand her gaze any longer.
"Wh - What are you… I mean, why… How did you - ?"
Rodney swallowed, trying to keep his anxiety under control.
"I… I'm sorry you had to hear that," he apologized, looking down. "I don't… entertain any pretence of knowing how to play; I just… wanted to try… I – I know I'm no good, you don't have to lie, my teacher said the same to me when I was younger, and she's right, I should know better and spare the humanity from -"
Jennifer's voice quietly saying his name stopped him in his ramblings.
He lifted his head to look at her, and his breath caught in his throat.
She'd moved closer while he wasn't looking, and was now standing mere inches away from him. Her gaze was locked on his, intense.
"Don't say that," she whispered. "Don't ever say something like that again. You were wonderful. You are wonderful. I've never heard something that beautiful and moving in my entire life."
There it is, said a voice in Rodney's head. You were right, you knew it would happen. She's being nice, saying kind words, lying to make you feel better. He closed his eyes painfully. He wanted to stop those thoughts and simply enjoy the moment, but he couldn't. That voice was right.
"You don't have to lie, Jennifer. Don't try to spare my feelings. It doesn't matter."
She could not have looked more shocked at his declaration had she tried. Vehemently shaking her head, she grasped his forearm in an attempt to emphasize her words.
"No!" she exclaimed desperately. "No, Rodney, that's not what I'm doing, not at all. What I said - It's true! You were - The way you -"
At a loss for words, she closed the distance between them and passionately pressed her lips against his.
It was Rodney's turn to be taken aback as he felt her lips move against his own, her body so close to him he could feel the warmth radiating from her. He didn't have time to recover from the shock before she pulled back, flushed, and stepped away from him. She was breathing hard.
"Don't you see, Rodney? I already thought you were amazing before all this, but now… I hear you play something so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes, and you – you think… I'm not lying, Rodney, I'm not! I think you're wonderful, and you have to believe me!"
He heard her voice as in a daze. Most of his thought process had seemed to stop as she kissed him, and he desperately grabbed the first coherent thing that went through his mind.
"But… but what about Lorne?" he asked.
"What about him?" she replied, clearly confused.
"Well… On your birthday, he… he gave you the painting, and - and the way you looked at him… and you said… you said something about how great art is, and how great Lorne was for painting, and I thought -"
Jennifer briefly closed her eyes, willing herself to be patient.
"Rodney… Please tell me you didn't think… There is nothing going on between me and Lorne. Nothing. I do like art, but that doesn't mean I'm in love with every artist I meet. And I was mad at you, that night anyway, because of your gift, so I might have flirted a little to… to make you jealous -"
"It worked," he interrupted, before he could stop himself. "I only started playing piano again to… to impress you. To, um, take you away from Lorne."
There was a pause as she looked at him in surprise, but it wasn't long before an expression of pleasure started creeping up on her face.
"Really?" she replied, a playful smile forming on her lips. "You did that for me?"
He nodded, incapable of forming words as he saw her slowly taking a step back towards him.
"You wanted to impress me? You wanted me to think you were as great as Lorne? Because you want me for yourself?"
He nodded at each of her questions, almost oblivious to what he was agreeing to as she reached out to place her hands on his shoulders, slowly caressing the skin underneath his shirt.
"I want you for myself, too," she whispered.
She watched in amazement as his eyes darkened, their heartbeats echoing as he leaned over to close the gap between their lips.
There really are few things as great as art, and those who cultivate it.
But there is no motivation as powerful as love, and no reward as fulfilling.
A/N: I had a huge debate with myself about which song I would have Rodney play. I didn't want one that was too hard, because it wouldn't seem realistic, and I wanted one I had played before, so I could relate to the feelings evoked by it. And I wanted one that was romantic. I hope I made a good choice, but I'm still not sure about it! Anyone has any suggestions?
Also, I have to tell you I don't really like the ending… It's too sappy, isn't it?