Brawn and Brain

When Rodney turned away from the food line and scanned the mess hall in search of a seat, he almost did a double- take. At one of the tables, Ronon sat on his own in a wheelchair, staring morosely at the food on his tray. It had been almost a week now since the therapy sessions started, but progress was slow and there appeared no change in his condition. Rodney hesitated for a moment. God, everybody - including himself - knew he sucked at this interpersonal stuff. But Ronon looked so lonely, so… Squaring his shoulders, McKay headed over to him.

Plunking down his tray and settling into a chair across form his teammate, Rodney cast an approving eye at Ronon's plate.

"I see you picked meatballs, too. I'm very partial to meatballs myself. Although you never really know what they put into them…"

His laugh sounded fake even to his ears, and the glare that was Ronon's response quickly turned it into a cough.

"Anyway… Good to see you up and about."

Ronon's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'up'?" he growled.

Rodney almost choked on his mashed potatoes, and cursed himself for his decision to join the Satedan. Heck, even sitting with Zelenka would have been preferable to this. He put down his fork.

"Oh no, I was just… Look, I'm sorry. It's not my nature to be empathic and supportive. Now that I think about it, I guess I'd better go sit somewhere else. "If I stay I'd probably put my foot in even deeper," he almost added, but decided against it.

McKay began to rise, but Ronon stopped him.

"Stay," he said. "I'm not very good company right now. But I'm glad you're here."

Surprised, Rodney sank back into his seat. That was something he didn't get to hear every day.

"Okay," he said. "But only if you start eating something." Pointing at Ronon's untouched plate, he continued, "It's not like you to let your food get cold."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Not burning any calories, huh?" Rodney pulled a face. "Here I go again," he thought.

But Ronon was only looking at him through half closed eyes.

"You may be right," he said. "I've never been tied down this long in my life." He balled his fists. "I miss running. And walking... and fighting. What good am I… like this?"

Rodney put down his fork, and pointed his finger at Ronon.

"See, that's your problem. You're only thinking of physical activity as exercise. But brawn is only one part of a person, my friend. Brain is the other. And now that you can't move as much as you want to, maybe this is the time to get started on exercising your brain power."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, if I remember correctly, you once said something about wanting to learn about science. This is the perfect opportunity. You got plenty of time on your hands, so make the most of it."

The look he received was more than skeptical. "And who would teach me?"

Rodney leaned back in his chair, visibly squirming. "Well… I thought… I could… maybe…"

"You?" A glint of amusement sparkled in Ronon's eyes. "You would waste your precious time on a caveman?"

"How did you… no, don't answer that. Look, this is a nickname, okay? Friends have nicknames for each other. It's actually a sign of real affection. Nonono, I don't mean affection… you know, not in that sense, I mean… I mean when I use that phrase I'm not implying that you are a caveman… although, actually when we first met you were living in a…. but that's neither here nor there…"

Finally running out of air Rodney stopped for a deep breath, and decided to try for a new start.

"Look. For the record? I've seen you on our missions, and I know there's a very capable head sitting on your shoulders. Scientifically untrained, but sharp enough. I'm sure I you would grasp the basics of physics in no time."

A smug smile settled on Rodney's features. "Especially when you consider that your teacher will be the best there is." He pointed both thumbs at his own chest. "Me."

"You do know that modesty is a virtue, don't you, McKay?"

John Sheppard had suddenly appeared at their table. Ignoring Rodney's sputtering, he turned to Ronon.

"Time for your therapy, Big Guy. You don't wanna let Teyla wait, or she might add something nasty to your program."

He looked at Ronon's untouched plate.

"Look, you can't go on like this."

"I…"

"I know. You're not hungry. Just like yesterday. And the day before. Well, I say you just have to force yourself."

"I was gonna say, I'll grab a sandwich on the way out. Or better two." Ronon grinned at Rodney. "Tuna, I reckon. Fish is brain food, right?"

Reveling in John's thunderstruck expression, Rodney gave Ronon a thumbs up, the smug smile back on his face.

"Right. And unless a real emergency hits the city…" He checked his watch. "… I will see you in the infirmary around 1700 for our first lesson?"

"Okay."

John was looking from one to the other.

"Brain food? Lesson? What did I miss here?"

"Oh, it's just the old brain over brawn thing," Rodney answered with an airy wave of his hand.

"That's right," Ronon smirked. Then he pointed at the food line. "About that tuna sandwich?"

Shaking his head, Shep grabbed the handles of the wheel chair, and pulled it away from the table.

"Sure. You got it."