ROME
By Indygodusk
Episode 2
"Living in Rome is either a one or a two, or a nine or ten. Not much in between. And some days it's both."
-JUDITH WORKS, City of Illusions
After the initial shock of seeing Mckay, part of John wanted to laugh at her on-point insults of Col. Graff while the rest wanted to wince with worry at how careless she could still be with people in authority, especially when she felt insecure. Mckay had no filter. Considering some of the retribution she'd had to endure over the years, he'd have thought she'd have learned how to bite her tongue. Then again, there was some comfort in seeing her uncowed by life's judgments and misfortunes. Rome had always been a force of nature.
Ever since the first time John met Mckay while test piloting experimental planes, he'd found himself fascinated. Over the years their lives had intersected again and again. Something kept bringing him back to Rome. Each time, John's life changed. Not all changes were good ones. He wondered who he'd become this time. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
Colonel Graff glared at Mckay. "Oh really? Because I've never met anyone but a baby who whines as much as you do, Rodney."
Instantly Rome's chin jerked up. "The name is Mer-e-dith," she enunciated, "at least to my friends, which you are not. You may address me as Dr. Mckay or Doctor. I know my value to this program. Shall we see how yours compares when weighed against the safety of our entire planet?"
Inhaling harshly, Col. Graff clenched his fists, lowered his head, and took a heavy step towards Mckay. "You really wanna compare dicks, girly?" he growled.
Muscles up and down John's back went tight. He wasn't sure his career could survive hitting a superior officer, but he might just have to risk it.
Stepping forward, General O'Neill barked, "That's enough."
Colonel Graff halted in his tracks and then pivoted sharply, stalking to the back of the room to pace and cool off.
Acting completely unaware of the danger she'd just narrowly avoided, Mckay tucked her hands into her pockets and turned to O'Neill. "So did anyone get hurt by the missile?"
"Just the multi-million dollar helicopter," O'Neill answered wryly, keeping the nearly apoplectic Col. Graff in his line of sight. Sgt. Kindall glided forward to put himself between the colonel and the doctor before John could push his way through the crowd to do the same.
At O'Neill's words, Mckay rocked back on her heels. "I can fix a helicopter, General."
"You aren't a mechanic, Dr. Mckay; you're the program's lead scientist in Ancient Engineering. Now, would you care to tell me why your department's shooting at me?" He lowered his eyebrows and glared.
The corner of Mckay's mouth went crooked with unhappiness. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and gestured them deeper into the lab. "No one is shooting at you on purpose, General. If we were, you'd be dead. Dr. Riley merely got overly ambitious with the missile's wiring and programs while I took a bathroom break—something everyone on base is legally allowed to do—" she said pointedly in Colonel Graff's direction, "and then she forgot to tell me about her changes before I hooked up the power coupler because she was too busy eyeballing Carson and trying to work up the courage to ask him out."
"Don't tease the poor lassie, Meredith," scolded a Scottish-sounding man standing off to the side rubbing the back of a sobbing woman in a lab coat. "She's traumatized enough and," he turned to look at the new arrivals, "it's Dr. Carson Beckett, General O'Neill. Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." His Scottish accent became fainter when he addressed the general instead of Mckay.
"Oh for—" Mckay broke off in exasperation— "Carson, would you go out to dinner with Dr. Riley?"
"What?" He squeaked, eyes going wide. "Ah dinnae ken…" he trailed off, his Scottish Brogue back in full force. Dr. Beckett looked down at the woman now frozen beneath his hand. "I mean, she seems nice enough, so I suppose so?"
"Great. Do it tonight and resolve this so she can focus on her work." Mckay pointed at them both sharply.
"Well alright…" Becket floundered for a moment before pulling himself back together. "Getting back to the point, things wouldna have gotten out o' hand if you hadna forced me to touch those alien artifacts of yours. I'm a physician, not a lab rat! I have my own research—very important research on creating an artificial form of the Ancient gene—and the soona you let me finish it, the soona you'll have extra people to help you with those experiments of yours."
"I understand that Carson, but until then I need you and your genes. I can't make much progress with these artifacts until someone turns them on. If you actually came over regularly as you'd agreed to, I wouldn't have to badger you at all," Mckay defended in an irascible tone.
"I'm still not clear on what happened, Doctors," O'Neill interrupted. "Dumb it down for me. You were going to explain about the missile?"
John found his attention drawn to a table holding a strange, circular device. It looked like a chunky bracelet made out of unfamiliar polymer. In his mind, he felt something strange, like a puppy whining for attention, but using math instead of sound.
John had intended to avoid trouble and hold up the wall in the back of the room, maybe even stay hidden and avoid Mckay's brand of change now that he could see that she was fine. Instead, he found himself drifting forward and picking up the bracelet. It lit up blue in his hand with a mental purr and lick of pi. He should be freaking out, but the mental touch felt oddly nice. Plus, he'd always had a secret love of math. He rubbed his thumb across the surface and the blue glow brightened. It felt natural. Behind the numbers, he could almost understand something more.
"Of course, General," he heard Mckay say loudly on the other side of the room, drawing his attention. "I was just getting to that. We were working on a new missile incorporating some technology from the Nox—which took some creativity on my part considering their pacifistic nature if you know what I mean. It wasn't supposed to have an acceleration package yet, but Dr. Riley decided to hook one up to see if the connections fit properly inside the housing and then she began tweaking the software.
"When I got back from my very short bathroom break, I began working on the power coupler. While my back was turned, Dr. Beckett tried to sneak out of the room and the experiment time he'd promised me. I grabbed his arm and marched him back over to the box of Ancient artifacts, handing him what I suspect is a protective personal shield. His gene activated it and the artifact produced a glowing mass of energy that encircled both Dr. Beckett and the nearby Dr. Riley.
"Riley panicked. In her flailing, she accidentally launched the experimental missile." Mckay gestured at a hole in the back wall that John hadn't noticed until now. "Since she'd been in the middle of re-coding the software, the missile wouldn't respond to my access codes. It took me longer than expected to hack it, rewrite new code for both the Earth and Nox components, and shut down the targeting systems. I'm sorry, but I worked as fast as possible."
Mckay stuck her chin out belligerently. "In my defense, almost no one else on the planet would've been able to recode it at all, much less that fast. Also, we now have proof that the missile is viable for our needs and some good ideas about vulnerabilities that need to be patched. We're ready to hand it off for the next phase weeks ahead of schedule."
The general sighed in exasperation but otherwise seemed to accept Mckay's crazy story. "Fine."
"I'm so s-s-sorry," Dr. Riley stuttered wetly, wiping her blotchy face on her sleeve.
Doctor Becket handed her a tissue. "Me too, General O'Neill. I'm sorry I ever turned that infernal Ancient thing on. It was horrible, like being squeezed in from all sides by a hungry giant." Dr. Beckett turned and gestured at the item glowing brightly in John's hands. "So I can't completely blame Dr. Ri…ley for…." His words stumbled to a halt.
Everyone stared at Sheppard.
"I'll just… put this back," John said awkwardly, pushing past his strange reluctance. As soon as he stopped touching it, the bracelet went dark and the math in his head dropped to a distant whisper. John didn't like the way everyone was looking at him. He took a step back.
"It lit up for him," Beckett said with wonder. "Who is he? And canna you give him to Meredith? Please?"
"John," Rome breathed. She met his eyes and smiled widely with honest delight.
It made John want things and that just wasn't fair. John tightened his lips so they wouldn't betray him by curling up since they refused to scowl at her the way he wanted them to.
Thought he wanted them to.
Whatever.
Smile fading at his lack of greeting, Mckay dropped her eyes and cleared her throat. "John Sheppard—I mean—Major Sheppard. Hello." Hiding what looked like shaking hands in her pockets, she cleared her throat again and focused on the device on the table.
After a moment of awkward silence, Mckay shook herself and looked back up at him with a professional mask. "Well, Major? Pick it up again. Go on."
John shouldn't do it, because if he gave Rome an inch, she'd take not just a mile, but the entire continent as her right and start ordering him around constantly. Reigning her back in later always took forever. Nevertheless, John did what she asked since he sort of wanted to anyway despite all of the staring eyes.
As soon as his fingers touched the bracelet, the math danced in happy circles around his mind and the strange polymer once more glowed in his hands.
Mckay looked at him with quirked lips and a complex expression he couldn't quite read. "Well isn't that a kick in the pants?" she said quietly before raising her voice. "What does it do, Major Sheppard? Can you tell us?"
How should he know? John was about to answer irritably when the explanation floated to the surface of his mind. "It's a pacifier," he said, looking down at the strange bracelet warily. How did he know that? "It scans for anxious mental signatures and gives them the sensation of being gently swaddled. It can be automatic or directed. It's primarily meant to soothe babies and calm accident victims."
Crinkling his brow and biting back on the rest of the technical details jumping up and down enthusiastically in the back of his mind, he looked at Mckay with barely suppressed panic. Instead of giving him an actual explanation, she just sent him a soothing smile twisted with envy. It didn't help.
"What was that?" John demanded to the room at large, though not quite as firmly as he'd intended. Was this experimental technology? Was he in his bunk right now dreaming? Or had that missile killed him after all?
Dr. Riley hiccupped crossly and ignored John's incipient panic. "It certainly didn't feel like a gentle swaddle to me."
"I hafta agree with the lass," Dr. Beckett nodded.
"That's because you're both big babies," Mckay rolled her eyes and glanced around before zeroing in on the marines from John's helo. "Hey, Mr. Clean, Xena," she pointed at Maj. McLean and Capt. King, who did look uncannily like their nicknames. "Go over there and let Sheppard swaddle you. Tell me if it's just a hug or if it really is a personal shield."
"It's Major McLean," the bald marine gritted out. Nevertheless, after a wave from O'Neill, he stomped forward to stand in front of John. Sighing, King followed.
"Oh, congratulations on the promotion from Captain," Mckay said absently as she turned to a computer and started a recording, missing McLean's flummoxed double-take at her noticing.
"Now swaddle them, Sheppard," she ordered, turning back with a mischievous grin.
"You sure this is a good idea?" John asked nervously, glancing over at the general.
O'Neill shrugged, "Probably not."
"Yes. Now go on." Mckay shot the General a glare.
"You sure there aren't any more missiles primed to take off in here?" O'Neill asked archly as he moved back against the wall and out of the way.
Mckay folded her arms stubbornly. "Of course not. Can we proceed now?"
"Sure, knock yourselves out," O'Neill said breezily.
"He doesn't mean that literally," she told either John or the marines. "It'll be fine. Go ahead, Sheppard."
Bracing himself for something crazy and horrible, John instinctively activated the pacifier device. A glowing field of energy spread out from the bracelet and encircled McLean and King. They both twitched as if restraining themselves from fighting back. After a moment of tense silence, King relaxed and laughed.
"What?" Mckay demanded, practically bouncing on her toes and holding a green pen poised to take notes. "Is it a shield?"
"Nah, it feels like getting a bear hug from my dad," King smiled wistfully. Looking over at her commanding officer, she arched a dark eyebrow in inquiry. "What about you, sir?"
"I feel snuggled," McLean answered, deadpan.
Sgt. Kindall came up and poked a finger effortlessly through the energy field. "It doesn't feel like a shield at all," he reported, smiling faintly when his next poke made McLean flinch and glare.
"I don't know the utility of this device, but why don't we see how big the effect is," O'Neill said. "Snuggle a few more people, Sheppard. Start with Mckay, see if it can make her at least speak slower even if it can't make her less irritating."
"Oh, now wait a minute." Mckay backed up nervously. "I don't like being touched."
Smirking, John reached out and quickly engulfed her in the glow. "Oh!" she jumped and stood stock still. Her cheeks turned pink. After a few seconds, Rome relaxed back into the field with a soft sigh, her eyes going heavy-lidded and dark. It made something in John's stomach flip. He had to turn away before he did something embarrassing.
Clearing his throat, John said, "I'm going to start using it on more people. If you don't want to participate, move out of the room." Colonel Graff immediately left along with most of his staff. John hadn't realized he was still there. Dr. Beckett and Dr. Riley looked at each other nervously but stayed. Despite that, John decided to spare them by saving them for last.
"Not me," General O'Neill passed. "I get enough of the kooky stuff on my own time."
Shrugging, John 'swaddled' Sgt. Kindall, followed by a couple of the remaining spectators. The blue field became almost transparent. "I think six people are the limit," John said.
Mckay nodded. "Alright, you can end the test." John heard a hint of wistfulness in her voice, but nothing else gave away the fact that she'd enjoyed it.
As soon as John mentally told the device to shut off, the glowing blue field of snuggles disappeared, the math slid back down into the depths of his mind, and the bracelet went dark. John put it down and stepped away. Only then did he realize that some of the symbols used in the equations were things he'd never encountered in a textbook before. Mckay might recognize the strange symbols if he showed her, but would she believe that the equations pranced around like puppies? It was crazy.
John stubbornly set his jaw and refused to ask, just to be contrary. He didn't want curiosity, he didn't want change, and he definitely didn't want to be in charge of other people again. Responsibility was overrated. He just wanted to keep his head down and fly.
Mckay rushed towards John with excitement. "You have the Ancient gene, Sheppard. This is perfect! You have to come and work for me!"
"Ah ah!" General O'Neill scolded. "He doesn't have the clearance yet."
"Then give it to him," Mckay ordered impatiently. "I need his gene. Do you know how many discoveries I could be making if I didn't have to fight with Carson to come over here once a week? Did you see what Sheppard just did so effortlessly? His gene might be as strong as yours. Plus, the IOA is about to green-light Atlantis. He could be the difference between success and failure."
"If he wants to volunteer after hearing about it. He might not," the General warned.
Mckay waved his objections away. "Of course he will. It's—it's Atlantis!" Her arms waved in the air. "Of course John will want to go with me. He'll be great!"
John ground his teeth so hard it felt like his molars were about to crack. What the hell were they talking about? Mckay couldn't just force him to change postings without a by-your-leave. Plus, anything volunteer-only usually translated to high-risk and suicidal.
Rewinding Rome's words, John suddenly realized that she was already signed up for this suicide mission to Atlantis, wherever that was. She could die out there, die on some top-secret mission and John might never even be told that she was gone. The thought of Rome in danger, of Rome dead, made the refusal he'd been about to spit out wither on the tip of his tongue.
Unaware of John's turmoil, Mckay cocked her head to the side and stepped towards O'Neill. "You are going to put me in charge of research on Atlantis, aren't you? You know I deserve it and you owe me, Jack. You made me go out there despite my objections. Well, now I want to go out there for myself. I'll call in all my chips if I have to. I want this posting. No one is more qualified than I am for Atlantis. No one." She was practically vibrating by the end of her speech.
John released a slow breath. He still had time. Mckay hadn't been approved to go yet.
"Don't badger me, Mckay. I know your qualifications and what I owe you, but the ultimate decision isn't up to me. The IOA has the final say on the command staff for Atlantis," O'Neill said. "Besides, we're getting off point, which is that you guys almost blew me and my men up."
"I thought we were done with that," Mckay said with genuine bewilderment. "I explained what happened. It was an accident. I'll yell at everyone once you leave, put Riley on notice, and put more safety protocols into place to prevent it from ever happening again. Now, are you going to put forth my name or not? Come on, Jack, if nothing else, it will get me off the planet and out of your hair. That has to be an incentive for you." Mckay smiled up at him winningly.
O'Neill looked at her incredulously for a moment. Throwing up his hands, he began to laugh. "Fine. No promises, but yes, I am suggesting you for the position, Mckay. I got SG-1 to help suggest names for the command staff and they put you first on the list for sciences, which just goes to show that Carter doesn't hate you after all," Mckay smiled smugly, only to scowl as he continued, "or she had the bright idea to get rid of you off-planet first. The IOA's probably going to have a heart attack, but I'm trying to put the most qualified people in charge of our efforts in Pegasus."
"Thank you," Mckay said with complete sincerity.
Sheppard accepted that he was doomed. He wasn't happy about it though. He wanted to know what was going on, starting with what special "ancient" gene he had that somehow let him interact with the strange bracelet and continuing with whatever Atlantis was and why Rome wanted to go there.
O'Neill looked over at John's set features and inclined his head before turning back to Mckay. "I'll have someone read in Sheppard. I'm picking up my new aide-de-camp around here somewhere. There's also supposed to be some contraband Heineken hiding in an office for me. I need the liquid courage before I present people like you to the IOA, even if I'll be sober by the time I get there," O'Neill drawled.
"Then why even bother drinking it?" Mckay asked, wrinkling her nose. "If you're looking for a warm memory, why choose a bathwater beer like Heineken? It's the Budweiser of Europe. At least drink a Canadian Molson."
The General pointed a finger at her, "I'm not a Canadian like you and I like Heineken. The memory of it will carry me through. But if you annoy me too much, Meredith, I might change my mind about nominating you."
"Fine. For Atlantis, I'll even drink one with you," Mckay said fervently, though her mouth gave a moue of distaste. "But no limes! I'm deathly allergic to citrus."
O'Neill rolled his eyes. "No one puts limes in Heineken—that's a Corona—and you're not invited. Go berate your minions and write up your report on the incident. I need to deal with Graff and the rest of my people. Stay out of trouble and try not to kill anyone."
Turning to John, he said. "Major Sheppard, I want you to stick with SG-15 until I find someone to print off the non-disclosure forms and brief you. Major McLean, keep him out of trouble."
"Yessir," they answered in unison, falling in at O'Neill's heels.
"Or he could stay here and do some more work for a while," Mckay wheedled as she craned her neck after O'Neill and John.
John scowled at her. She blinked at him in confusion and hurt, her smile disappearing. He'd be more sympathetic if he knew for sure whether her interest stemmed from seeing him again for the first time in years or just using his mysterious magic gene for her scientific research. He refused to let her steamroll him into anything until he read the fine print. Not to mention the fact that she'd almost killed him just a few minutes before and that he was still mad at her for abandoning him the second he got married.
He cared for the woman, but sometimes, her self-absorption and cluelessness when it came to people drove him nuts. It would serve her right if he flew off without ever talking to her. All these messy emotions felt horribly uncomfortable.
"Nope," O'Neill answered Mckay's plea, not even bothering to look back as he strode from the room.
Sighing, Mckay met John's eyes. She squared her shoulders. "We'll have to catch up later, deal?"
"Okay." The agreement slipped out without his conscious intention.
Mckay looked so genuinely pleased by his answer that, just like that, John's irritation drained away. He couldn't help but send her a quiet smile. "Catch you later, Rome." The tips of her ears turned pink at the nickname. He'd missed seeing that. He'd missed her. Feeling mixed up, John turned to follow Mclean from the room.
"You not coming?" King asked incredulously, drawing attention to the fact that Sgt. Kindall had lingered in the lab and shuffled closer to Mckay.
"In a minute. I have to ask something," Kindall answered vaguely.
"You found some more stuff?" Mckay whispered loudly as she looked left and right to see who was still around. Kindall winced at her lack of subtlety. If he was peddling black market goods, he could get in real trouble if caught. John hoped they weren't talking about drugs. Rome didn't seem the type, but then again, he hadn't seen her in three years.
Tension ignited at the base of his skull. It was a familiar feeling around Rome. He hadn't missed it.
Tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ears, Mckay beckoned the sergeant towards a private office in the back. "We can talk in here for a minute, Kindall."
"That alright, sir?" Kindall asked McLean, already following her.
Shaking his head disbelievingly, McLean nevertheless waved the sarge off and left the room with the rest of them.
"You ever notice that Kindall's almost the only one who gets his name said right?" King asked as she looked over her shoulder at the lab they'd just left. "I wonder what's going on there."
McLean shrugged sourly. "Kindall's too tight-lipped to share. However," he glanced back at John, "what about you, Sheppard? What's your connection to the infamous Dr. Mckay?"
"We've run into each other a few times," John answered vaguely, looking away. He couldn't help but quote softly, "All roads lead to Rome."
"You know her well enough to give her a nickname, seems like," King prodded.
John shrugged. Feeling a spurt of devilment—and the frustration Rome engendered—John decided to answer. "Professionally she goes by Dr. R.M. Mckay. A few close friends call her Meredith. However, her full name is Rodney Meredith Mckay."
McLean snorted. "Wait, her first name is Rodney? That's a boy's name." His lips twisted with amusement.
John smirked. "Yep, she hates it. That's why she goes by Meredith."
"Then why do you call her Rome?" King asked curiously, her dark ponytail falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side.
John rubbed his face to hide whatever expression his mouth was making as his mind sifted through the memories. Despite himself, he found himself answering. "It's just a nickname I came up with to tease her. 'Ro' from Rodney and 'Me' from Meredith gets you ROME." He shrugged self-consciously, not interested in explaining more to strangers, surprised at himself for even revealing that much. He must be more off center than he thought.
Before he was forced to endure more questions, Kindall caught back up to them in the hall with an Air Force captain in tow. Captain Truesdale turned out to be the general's new aide-de-camp. She immediately started in on logistics for John's debrief and tomorrow's departure, thankfully ending the personal conversation.
Once Sheppard signed the non-disclosure forms, he was passed a laptop and sent a huge digital packet to read through. All thoughts of Mckay disappeared. He spent the rest of the afternoon immersed in files about Stargates, aliens, Ancient genes, and spaceships. John really liked the spaceships. He couldn't wait for a chance to fly one.
Science fiction was real!
AN: Chapters should hopefully come out once a day. I've got all 14 written, I'm just doing some final grammar checks right now.
Casting is as follows—
Dr. Rodney Meredith Mckay / Rome (Kate Winslet)
John Sheppard (Joe Flanigan)
Dr. Troy Forrester / Mckay's ex-husband (Jude Law)
SG-15
Major Alex McLean (Vin Diesel)
Sgt. James Kindall (Eric Bana)
Captain Robin King (Lucy Lawless)
Dr. Rigoberto Diaz / anthropologist (Antonio Sabato Jr.)
