Rodney glared at the empty cubby once the flash faded and the transporter doors slid obediently back open, sensing his presence. It was empty of course.

"He got away again, eh?"

Rodney spun on his heel and stalked back down the hallway, forcing Zelenka to jog to keep up. He couldn't stand the smug look on the Czech's face.

"Temporarily. The Colonel is just trying to goad me into an infantile reaction and I refuse to rise to the bait."

"And he gave you the slip. You can't make him pay up, you know. He has guns and knives and many sorts of dangerous things. He could just refuse."

It was Rodney's turn to feel smug. "This is Sheppard we're talking about. He'll pay up. He won't like it – which is why it's so enjoyable – but he'll pay. Once he realizes that I'm not going to beg, he'll get bored and give in. Right now he's just playing sore loser."

"It is better than sore winner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney snapped then hustled back through the doors into the lab he and Zelenka were inspecting today, hoping that Radek would drop the subject. The man was smiling way too much for Rodney's liking. He pounced on a laptop. The idiots on this project were way behind schedule.

"Broadcasting a victory announcement to all the department heads was not good sportsmanship, Rodney."

"That was just insurance to make sure Sheppard pays up. He started it – all that bragging and boasting about his new plan to deploy his grunts into the city at a moment's notice. His marvelous grid."

"You helped him design the maps."

"Exactly! He comes to us to figure out everything, then goes on and on about his great ideas."

"He only asked us to review his grid in the context of the most efficient sensor configurations. Colonel Sheppard designed the maps and deployment plans himself, in response to the Asgard attack on the city last month. You and Dr. Jackson were kidnapped, Rodney. His wish is only to respond more quickly to similar threats in the future!"

"And I appreciate that!" Rodney heard his voice go sarcastic, but Radek was clearly missing the point, the point being, "But I still found the cache first, proving that skilled use of technology will always be better than even the most efficient of manual search parties. Sheppard made a bad bet. And when I catch up to him again - " Rodney rubbed his hands together, unable to keep the expression of avarice off his face, "Spiderman comes to papa!"

"IF you catch up to him," Radek retorted, then muttered in Czech for a moment. He too began tapping at the next laptop over. "You could always scan for the Colonel's transponder signature."

Rodney jerked his head up at Radek's sly tone. "That would be poor sportsmanship," he quipped, feeling his face redden. "He'll pay up. And stop yapping. I'm tired of these guys complaining about missing parts and power fluctuations. If this project doesn't get back on track in the next week and prove that there's potential for practical application of the Cohall flight recorder, I'm scrapping it."

"It was designated a military and defense application. Mr. Woolsey and Colonel Sheppard are to decide the fate of projects such as this."

"Based on MY recommendations!" Rodney rolled his eyes and gave Radek a scathing look. "What is with you today? You almost sound like you're on Sheppard's side!" Rodney chortled at the impossibility. Radek kept typing, pointedly silent. "Hey! You're not on his side, are you? Because that would be treason." To his own credit, he kept the accusation lighthearted.

Radek gave him a look that was so disgusted and so...shrewd - his eyes all screwed up and his eyebrow all bristling out lopsided - that Rodney's face flushed again and he slapped at his keyboard for the next several minutes in silence.

"You're supposed to be on my side," he muttered finally, not exactly to himself, and then wondered why Radek began banging his head against the desk.

Late that night, Rodney found his eyes crossing and decided that he'd reached the point where he would be more useful to the good of the universe if he got some sleep. He shut down the Cohall lab, convinced that he'd got them far enough along to finish their preliminary reports, and shuffled down the hall towards the transporter that would zip him over to the residential tower. He swiped the bar, thinking with a grin about Sheppard running away like a girl. Well, like a normal girl, not that there were any of those on Atlantis. All of the girls that were on Atlantis would kick his butt for even thinking the phrase "run like a girl." He almost looked over his shoulder just to make sure none had turned psychic and were coming after him.

He shoved at the dot, then left the transporter for his apartment. He hadn't seen Sheppard the rest of the day. For just a second, a small doubt creeped into Rodney's mind. Could Sheppard really be mad at him? He shoved the worry away, or tried to. He and John had been 'good' for a long time. More than good. He still woke up with nightmares about losing his mind and his memories and managed to go back to sleep every time, knowing that he had a friend like John to watch his back should he need it again.

Every now and then he did wonder why John was his friend - the cool and athletic career Air Force Colonel wasn't what you would call a logical candidate. On one level, their friendship seemed built on Rodney mocking him and John deflecting the defensive behavior with a well-placed smack-down. On another, their friendship was one big contest - of wills, of intellect, on Rodney's part: ego. With sudden insight, Rodney realized that John must enjoy the competition as much as he did. The whole "who can find Lt. Feder's geocache first" race had been as much John's idea as Rodney's.

Feeling a little better, Rodney hurried to his room, desperate to get some sleep. He'd needle Sheppard tomorrow at Woolsey's staff meeting. Or... Rodney caught sight of a figure slipping down the hallway and recognized the slouched gait ... or he'd get some needling in right now!

"Sheppard!" This time, Rodney waited until he was standing right behind the man before he called out. John took another two steps, then stopped with a jerk - like he'd just remembered his own name. Feeling magnanimous, Rodney decided to give his friend some time to cope with his loss. "You can keep Spiderman for a couple of more days if you want. You don't have to keep hiding out. I'll call my minions off if you just promise to bring it by sometime before my day off."

John didn't say a word. He just tilted his head, straightened, then began walking down the hall again. Rodney realized that he was heading away from his room rather than towards it, which was strange. It was nearly 2:00 in the morning. "Where are you going? Is something up?" He jogged ahead to try to get a look at John's face. Maybe he was mad?

John just looked tired and a little sweaty, like he'd been sparring with Ronon, although he was wearing his uniform instead of workout clothes. He shoved past, bumping Rodney's shoulder. "Go to bed, McKay," he growled and then kept walking. Rodney froze in surprise.

"Ok," Rodney said. He watched John turn the corner, kick angrily at the wall, then head towards the corridor that led to the city's central tower, out of sight.

Rodney backtracked the few steps to his own door and sank onto his bed, confused. So much for enjoying the competition. Sheppard was being every bit a sore loser as Rodney had imagined. By the time he'd pulled off his shoes and stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt, he'd gone from confused to annoyed. "If that's the way he's going to play it, I can out-sore him any day of the week. He's got nothing compared to the sore winner-ness I am capable of."

He tossed and turned for a long time, though, and in the end he decided that John was probably just mad at Ronon for beating him at kung-fu or whatever nonsense they sparred at. The memory of John looking tired and sweaty and maybe just a little beat up allowed him to finally fall asleep. That had to be it.

When his intercom buzzed at 6:00 the next morning Rodney was so groggy he hardly managed to untwist his head from the covers enough to grumble a cranky, "McKay here, go ahead."

"Dr. McKay, you are needed in the chair room immediately."

"Why?" he moaned, tempted to cover his head again. He didn't recognize the voice. Must be one of the gateroom technicians.

"It's the control chair, Doctor. It's missing. And so is Colonel Sheppard."

Rodney lurched upright and flung his feet over the edge of the bed, "Excuse me?"

"The chair is gone. Colonel Sheppard isn't answering his radio and no one can find him. Mr. Woolsey wants you to go to the chair room."

"I'm on my way!"

Rodney threw on clothes, not particularly caring whether they were clean, his brain already leaping to the problem with way too little information. Missing? How could a 300 pound piece of integrated technology simply vanish? He suddenly remembered Sheppard walking towards the tower in the middle of the night. Had his friend vanished with the chair?

What are you up to, Sheppard? he thought, trying and failing to stay angry at being snubbed. Where are you? And then, because he couldn't help it, And who's going missing next?