The Road Not Taken

by Soledad

Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this series belong to The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and Showtime. Only a couple of original characters belong to me.

Part 02

General Jack O'Neill, currently in command of the SGC, was not in a particularly good mood. In fact, "royally pissed" would probably have described his feelings more precisely. The endless debriefings with the leaders of the Atlantis Expedition – especially in the presence of one Richard Woolsey, who seemed awfully eager to investigate every single complaint on Dr. Kavanagh's long, long list of complaints – were getting on his nerves. He could already feel the mother of all headaches breeding together within his skull.

He was in a somewhat… uncomfortable position. On the one hand, he liked both Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard, and knew that sometimes being in charge meant to make dubious decisions. On the other hand, he'd known Dr. Kavanagh for years and knew that – despite his abrasive nature – the scientist would never accuse the expedition leaders without a very good reason. And some of Dr. Weir's actions did seem… questionable at best.

Of course, the constant squabbling between Carter and McKay didn't make things easier. The two of them were meant to choose new members for Atlantis' scientific community, as a shockingly great number of them had been killed. Unfortunately, all candidates who were suggested (and had gotten through the very detailed security check) were declared as idiots, imbeciles or morons by McKay, whose collective IQs, in his opinion, wouldn't make out a two-digit number. And the ones McKay would have found acceptable from a purely scientific point of view happened to be potential security risks, so that the Pentagon wouldn't allow them to be even considered as possible expedition members.

It was a no-win situation on all sides, including the military investigation concerning the death of Colonel Sumner and Major Sheppard's role in it. For his part, O'Neill would have done the same, but there were other actions from Sheppard's side that he could not condone – yet he had to, because at the same time Sheppard, with his extraordinarily strong natural ATA gene, was needed in Atlantis... even if some of his actions were abysmally stupid. Like his entire behaviour during the alien nanovirus crisis.

No, these were not the sorts of situation Jack O'Neill liked to deal with. So he was positively relieved when the phone rung. Any distraction was welcome – or so he thought. He changed his mind at once, though, when he realized that Major Davis was on the other end of the connection. A phone call from Paul Davis always meant trouble, even though the man himself was a fine officer.

"General," the major said in that grave voice reserved for moderate crisises, "we have a problem."

"So, who exactly is this Spencer Reid character?" O'Neill demanded, staring at the photo of the thin, slightly long-haired young man with vague disgust. The kid looked like those effeminate, anorexic Calvin Klein models, only with a horrible fashion sense. "And where does he know Kavanagh from?"

"They used to be in the same research group at CalTech, after Reid had made his first doctorate and started his post-graduate studies in engineering, some eleven years ago," Davis explained.

O'Neill glared at him as if he'd suddenly grown another head. "Eleven years ago? According to his birth date, this guy is twenty-seven, Davis!"

"He graduated from CalTech at sixteen," Davis said with a shrug. "At the age of twenty-one, he already had three doctorates: in mathematics, engineering and chemistry. In the meantime, he's got two additional BAs – in psychology and sociology – and is working on the third one in philosophy. He's a certified genius."

"Not another one!" O'Neill groaned.

"Oh, he's very different from Dr. McKay," Davis said with a faint smile. "And he isn't currently working as a scientist anyway. For the last six years, he's been a member of the FBI's elite profiler team, the Behavioural Analysis Unit in Quantico."

"That skinny little guy is an FBI agent?" O'Neill asked incredulously. Davis nodded.

"And apparently a very good one. He's known to have talked down several violent or crazed criminals, so that the Feds could arrest them without further bloodshed. In two cases, when talking didn't help, he shot them dead on the spot."

"Hmmm…" O'Neill re-checked the young man's credentials. "A scientist with an astronomical IQ, who's a crack shot and a talented negotiator… You know, he might be the answer of my not-so-recent prayers…. Assuming we can talk him into joining the project."

"We should talk to his boss first," Davis suggested.

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner had always been proud of the fact that there were very few things that could really shake him. Having worked as a lawyer, then as a prosecutor and, at one point, even as a SWAT member had prepared him for just about everything, and his years with the BAU only deepened his experience. Still, when the call from the Pentagon came, he was as shocked as he hadn't been since Haley had filed the divorce papers.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have been. It was only natural that the military would eventually discover Reid. Had the young man worked as a scientist in the recent years, they'd probably have approached him already.

He agreed to meet the liaison officer of the Pentagon, a certain Major Paul Davis, outside the Colorado Springs Police Department building, to discuss the matter with him. Not that he'd have a rat's chance to keep Reid if the military really wanted the young man, of course. But it was nice to be asked his opinion anyway.

He discovered Davis in the small street café at once. The man had made it easy for him, wearing his uniform. He also seemed to be a friendly and intelligent guy. Still, Hotch didn't like the all-too-obvious coincidence that the Air Force would discover Reid's promising abilities at the moment the team set foot in Colorado Springs. It was just too convenient to be believable.

"Actually, it was a coincidence," Davis admitted, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. "Had Dr. Reid not visited one of our scientists in hospital, we'd never have realized how useful he could be for us. Sure, we do keep tab on gifted people, but he never showed any interest in a scientific career, so…" he shrugged.

"Do you always check the background of the people who happen to visit one of your scientists?" Hotch asked.

"No," Davis replied, "Just those who visit scientists working on top secret projects. In some cases, we just can't be too careful. Of course, when we realized that Dr. Reid found our man by running into his brother – literally! – at the Colorado Springs Police Department, we were relieved. Nonetheless, now that we've found him, my superiors would like him to work for us. Let's face it, Special Agent Hotchner, a scientific mind like his is wasted within your agency."

"I wouldn't say that," Hotch retorted, a little indignantly. "He does very important work – and he's damn good at it."

Davis nodded. "I don't doubt that. However, while there are quite a few people who could make good profilers, there are only a handful of those who could really make a difference in the scientific sense of the word."

"You want him to work for you as a scientist?" Hotch asked in surprise. "He never did lab work in his life – well, not after his post-grad time anyway. What makes you thing he'd be interested in the first place? Or that he'd be any good, after a seven-year hiatus?"

"We can't know whether he'd be interested or not, of course," Davis admitted," although I do believe that the challenge we're offering is greater than a man like him could resist. As for the question if he's any good – Dr. Kavanagh seems to think so, and he's the most critical and judgemental scientist I've ever met… and believe me, I've met my fair share of geeks since I've been working for this project. That he never worked as a practicing scientist doesn't matter. He'd learned all the theoretical stuff, has an eidetic memory as I've heard and can read awfully fast – he'll catch up soon enough."

"And you, of course, can't tell me what this project is," Hotch said.

It was not a question. Practically all projects where the Pentagon was involved were top secret, due to their importance for national security.

"Afraid not," Davis replied apologetically. "All I can tell you is that we desperately need people with his abilities; and his FBI training makes him even more valuable for the project. If he's willing to sign up, that is."

"Well, about that you'll have to ask him," Hotch said. "I don't really understand why you're talking to me in the first place."

"You're his superior, and you've worked with him for almost seven years," Davis answered. "I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't fight us in this matter."

"Do I have a chance to fight the Pentagon?" Hotch asked sarcastically.

"Of course you do," Davis said. "He'd listen to you if you gave him the advice not to accept our offer. We ask you not to do so. I'm sorry I can't tell you any more, but believe me, this is really important. Perhaps the most important thing we've worked on for decades."

"Tell me it's not weapons research," Hotch said. "Tell me you don't want him to build the ultimate bomb for you, and I won't interfere. He couldn't do that. It would break him."

"We know," Davis replied, "and I swear we don't want him to build a doomsday bomb for us. Every idiot can do that, if given the blueprints. We need his initiative, his people skills – and his genius. The whole package that makes him the person he is."

"Very well," Hotch said after a long silence, hoping by God that he was not about to make a mistake. "Ask him. But you can only have him as a loan. If he accepts, I'll see that he gets extended leave for the time you need him for this project of yours. After that, if he wants back, he'll be allowed to come back: no arguments, no threats, no blackmail."

The major looked at him with an expression that was half amused, half exasperated – and then nodded. "You've got a deal."

Reid had enjoyed talking shop with Kavanagh enormously. Despite his demanding job with the BAU, he felt as if most areas of his brain had been starving due to the lack of proper simulation for years. So he came back on the next day, and the day after, and they continued their semi-scientific discussion as if they hadn't even stopped since their shared work at CalTech.

Kavanagh seemed to be surprised that he'd achieved degrees in soft sciences, too, but had been more than willing to discuss engineering and mathematical theories with him. When the sister on duty finally threw him out, Reid felt more alive than he had for a long time. Even if the omnipresence of uniformed airmen and officers did make him a little uncomfortable. He'd never been affiliated with the military in any way. The few shared cases with the BAU and the NCIS had been well before his time.

The more surprised was he when – upon leaving Kavanagh's room – he was approached by a slender, dark-haired, sharp-featured man in the uniform of an Air Force major.

"Dr. Reid?" The man had dark, intelligent, intense eyes. "I'm Major Paul Davis. I work for the Pentagon and was wondering if I could have a word with you."

Reid felt panic raising in his chest and tightening his throat.

"The Pentagon?" he repeated nervously. 'Have I overstepped my security clearance by visiting an old colleague in hospital or whatnot?"

Davis laughed. It made him look ten years younger.

"On the contrary," he said. "Some people seem to think you're the answer to their recent prayers. They'd like to make you an offer. Your boss had given his permission to this, but you can, of course, check with him if you don't believe me."

Reid blinked in surprise. He knew that the military was always interested in people with extraordinary abilities, and he certainly matched that category. His affiliation with the FBI had kept him under their radar so far, but apparently, those times were over.

"What kind of offer?" he asked. Major Davis shrugged apologetically.

"I'm not allowed to speak about it. They want you to come to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex for a short interview. Don't worry, that wouldn't be binding in any way, just, well, orientation."

Reid considered that for a moment. "When?" he finally asked. He couldn't deny that he was very curious.

"As soon as humanly possible," Davis answered. "It's a matter of some urgency. Do you believe you could get the day off tomorrow?"

Reid shrugged. "I can try," he said. They were almost done, really, which was the reason why he had been able to visit Kavanagh in the afternoons to begin with.

"Excellent," Davis said. "I'll fetch you from your hotel at oh-eight-hundred in the morning. Oh, and I'd get a haircut if I were you. It would make a much better first impression."

"What do you mean you've found the right person for us?" Dr. Rodney McKay, chief scientist of the Atlantis project, certified genius, and – at least in his own estimate, although there were some people who actually agreed with him – the smartest man in two galaxies, glared at General O'Neill, as if the head of the SGC had lost his mind.

O'Neill, young used to the antics of scientists in general and to McKay's volatile reactions in particular, stared back at him with unshakable calm. Which, of course, was only pouring oil into McKay's fire.

"I've found you a young man with the IQ of a super-genius, with three doctorates and two further degrees, who can read twenty thousand words per minute, has an eidetic memory and seven years of FBI-service under his belt, which means he can fire a gun and actually hit his target," the general declared calmly. "Now, if you can show me anyone who'd be more suitable for Atlantis, I'll let you hire all those untrustworthy geeks you wanted to bring in during the last two weeks."

McKay opened and closed his mouth several times, like a fish out of water, without saying a single word. It was quite funny, actually, and O'Neill had a hard time not to look at Colonel Carter, knowing that she was barely suppressing a giggle of her own and would lose control if he did so.

"What kind of doctorates?" McKay finally asked.

"Mathematics, chemistry and engineering," Carter replied in O'Neill's stead, studying the candidate's personal file. "He'll fill the place of Dr. Kavanagh nicely, I'd say. And if Dr. Kavanagh wants to return to Atlantis after his recovery, I'm sure Dr. Weir can find Dr. Reid another suitable post."

"You said something about two other degrees," McKay said, still not completely won over. "What are those?"

"BAs in psychology and sociology," Carter replied, "and he's working towards another one in philosophy."

"Bah!" McKay snorted. "Soft sciences!"

"Yeah, but they could prove useful during Gate travels, when one has to deal with the indigenous population," Carter pointed out. "You could cut back the field work and spend more time in your lab, Rodney."

That aspect of things made McKay think. He actually liked Gate travel, but always bemoaned the lab time he had to sacrifice in order to be able to go to other planets.

"You know, that's not a bad idea," he said, visibly warming to it. "If someone else did the scouting and getting shot at part, I could save my time for the really important discoveries."

Carter looked at him with almost maternal pride. "I knew you'd eventually come to see it our way, Rodney," she said.

McKay shot her an irritated look. "Ha, ha, very funny," he said with a scowl. "So, when do we get to see this so-called wunderknabe?"

"Major Davies is already working on it," O'Neill replied.

Reid, of course, did inform Hotch about being approached by Air Force officer from the Pentagon. To his surprise, Hotch already seemed to know about it, and admitted that Major Davis had contacted him first.

"You should go and listen to them at least," the unit chief suggested. "If you don't like what they're offering, they can't force you to accept."

"Are you sure?" Reid asked warily. "We're speaking about the military here."

"It's a little early to get all paranoid just yet," Hotch said. "I promise I'll call in some favours if they're pressing too hard. But who knows, perhaps you'll like their offer. I won't stand in your way."

"I'm not planning to leave the team!" Reid protested.

"I know," Hotch said gently; he'd had time to think about the whole issue and began to believe that a change of scenery would actually be good for the younger man. "I understand that we're the only family you have right now. But you've come to us way too young. You've seen too much. I'm worried about you, Reid. I'm afraid you'll burn out sooner or later; just as Gideon has. Just like I'm on the best way to do. Perhaps a change of scenery would do you a great deal of good… even though we're gonna miss you."

"I'm not so sure about that," Reid muttered. "I like it at the BAU."

"And we're lucky to have you," Hotch said. "You're a great asset to the team; Gideon was right about that. But let's face it, you'll never unfold your true potential as a profiler. That incredible mind of yours isn't really challenged by our work. If you wanted to go and do some scientific work for a while, to test your abilities, we'd all understand."

"But what if I won't like it, after all?" Reid asked. "If it turns out that what I've always suspected is true; that I'm not made for lab work?"

"You can always come back," Hotch promised. "I've spoken to Director Mueller personally; it seems that he'd already been briefed about the Pentagon's request from the highest places. He said that if the offer is attractive for you, and you want to try it, you can go on an extended leave; unpaid, for sure, but the military would pay you well enough for the duration, so that won't be a problem. If you try it and don't like it – just come back. Perhaps having a quieter period in your life is going to be helpful with dealing with your recent personal discoveries."

Reid knew Hotch was speaking about the encounter with his father and was thankful that the older man didn't seem to want to discuss the issue openly.

"Well, I guess I can at least go and hear them out," he finally said, albeit a little reluctantly.

Hotch nodded. He'd hate to see Reid leave the team, but the young man needed to seek out other opportunities. Even if he chose to stay with them, in the end.

~TBC~