Promises to Keep (Miles to Go)
Author's Note: This was written, and takes place, just after Sam arrives in Atlantis for good (beginning of season 4). Also, wouldn't let me format the title properly; see above for the way it was supposed to look.
It was only a few hours after seeing McKay again that Sam finally decided she couldn't live with the secret any longer. Jack had suggested she tell McKay way back when, after she'd arrived home and was in Washington debriefing the president. While she was beginning to see the humor in the situation instead of being horrified – if she was honest with herself, she'd realize that she hadn't really minded all that much after the initial shock – she still hadn't been willing to share the story with McKay. She didn't know how he would take it – or rather, she did know and didn't want to be there for it.
Now, though, she realized she couldn't really keep it from him. He deserved to know. Besides, she figured, he was probably going to find out at some point, from someone. Better to bite the bullet and be in control of the situation.
That was how she found herself standing outside the quarters of one Dr. Rodney McKay at a little past midnight, knocking lightly and hoping, despite all her resolve to finally tell him, that he wouldn't answer.
He did, of course, and his surprised expression as he slid the door aside – to reveal himself in naught but a pair of brightly colored (were those lemons? Let it never be said that Rodney McKay didn't have a highly developed sense of irony) boxer shorts and an almost-too-small red t-shirt proclaiming loudly that he was "Uncertain about Quantum Mechanics" – was priceless. Sam tried not to laugh, at his expression or his t-shirt, but she needn't have worried. His face went from shocked and embarrassed to puzzled and through to smug and what he probably thought was charming in nanoseconds. Choosing to ignore his current state of undress, she accepted his gestured invitation and stepped inside.
"This is a pleasant surprise," he said as the door slid shut and the lights dimmed to an ambient level. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Sam wasn't sure what his voice was dripping with, sarcasm or infatuation or what, but she gave him a look. He attempted a brief "who me?" look before dropping it and sighing.
"Oh, fine," he scowled, and the lights came back up. "Why are you here, in my quarters, in the middle of the night? Not that I mind," he assured her.
"I, um," Sam started. This was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. "I need to tell you something."
"Does it have to do with you leaving a certain someone and settling permanently in Pegasus?" he asked, voice tinged with both hope and hopelessness.
"Ah, no," she said, and she wasn't sure if she had said it too quickly or with too much hesitation. An odd duality was taking hold of this conversation and she wasn't sure she was quite comfortable with it.
"Mm," Rodney replied, noncommittally. "So…what, then? A passionate tryst?"
Sam laughed. "No, sorry," she returned. "Though it's funny you mention it…"
"Don't tell me; you were recently trapped alone on a space ship and hallucinated me to help you get out of it," Rodney deadpanned.
Sam blinked. "I…no. Though, um, that's kind of why I wanted to talk to you. Since you told me about your little…experience," she ignored his snort and plowed on, "I figured it was only fair I tell you about mine."
Rodney was being uncharacteristically silent now and looking somewhat uncomfortable, which was not helping Sam at all. She wished he would say something inconsiderate and unpleasant; then she could tell him the story with all due detachment and get out of there. But he wasn't cooperating; he was being oddly attentive and entirely too vulnerable-looking. She wanted to hate him for it.
"Did you hear that I recently got transported to an alternate universe?" she asked. He gave a vague nod-shrug, not taking his eyes off her. It was unnerving. "Well, things were pretty different there," she continued, to a raised eyebrow from him.
"You don't say."
"Yes, well," she cleared her throat, "one of the…interesting differences had to do with my, um, personal life."
"Oh, let me guess," Rodney rolled his eyes. "You were married slash engaged slash in a significant relationship with –"
"Actually, no," Sam interrupted, staring at her fingers which were twisting in the seams of her new jacket. "Which was kind of odd in itself, really. Usually in alternate universes…but anyway. It turned out I was married in that universe. Or had been. Divorced, to be honest. But, um, turned out I was married to…" She couldn't believe how hard this was. "Well…you."
"The Chinese goa'uld?" Rodney responded, his face a picture in shocked disgust. "Why the hell would you…and why are you telling me this, anyway?"
Sam stared. She hadn't pictured this. She didn't know quite how to tell him that she hadn't meant Yu at all.
"Um, Rodney," she interrupted finally, his shocked diatribe fading into nothing. "Not…Yu. You." She stared more pointedly this time, trying to convey her meaning with her eyes. She saw his eyebrows come together in puzzlement, his mouth forming the beginning of a "wh" – and then it hit him. His eyes widened with remarkable speed and his mouth went from "wh" to a round "O" in record time.
"Oh," he squeaked.
"Well," Sam said brightly, relief flooding through her, "just wanted to let you know. See you later."
Rodney was gaping like a fish as she headed for the door but recovered enough to call out to her before she got through it. She froze, the upwelling of relief dashed with a large bucket of cold dread. She turned, slowly. His back was to the door and he didn't look at her as he spoke.
"Do you think," he said quietly and in a voice she had rarely heard from him, "do you think that could ever have worked?" He turned now and she was surprised to see a glinting in his eyes; it was disconcerting and she wasn't sure to be mad at him for allowing them to form or herself for causing them.
"I don't know, Rodney," she answered honestly.
He was closer now and she could hear the slight break in his voice as he smiled weakly and said, "Well, it's good to know that somewhere out there, we tried."
She returned his half-hearted smile and found that she had tears in her eyes, too. How could he be doing this to her? "Is it?"
"Not really," he admitted, and they shared a small, humorless laugh.
Before she really knew what she was doing, her lips found his and she was kissing him with an abandon she hadn't known she possessed. He responded immediately, drawing her to himself and emitting an amazingly endearing little whimper. She realized she was more than a little comfortable in his arms, more than a little happy.
And then he was pulling away, releasing her with what felt like considerable hesitation, drawing his face back until she could see the entirety of it. It was streaked with tears now, and contorted in anguish. Confused, she gave him a questioning look.
He smiled sadly. "You don't want this."
"I do, Rodney," she assured him, stepping closer and reaching out to him.
He shook his head. "You think you do, but you don't really. You have an image of me, like I have of you, and even if you really do want him – which I kind of doubt – he's not me. It's okay," he reassured her, "I understand. I've been there."
"Rodney –" she started, but he held up a hand.
"I want you to be happy, Sam," he told her. "And I really don't think you'd be happy with me. That alternate universe showed that, eh?" He gave a weak laugh. "And don't tell me that it's an alternate universe for a reason. From what I heard, it was pretty damn close to ours and you and I both know what that means." He sighed. "Damn Sheppard. His sense of honor is rubbing off. I wish I could just let us take its course and see what happens, but I can't. It wouldn't be fair."
"Rodney," she tried again, but with less conviction.
"Go, Sam," he said, making it sound more like a request than a command. "Have a fantastic life." He grinned through his tears.
Weeping openly now, Sam stepped forward and hugged him. "Thanks, Rodney. Thank you for everything."