Doubt

TAG to Suspicion

Rodney McKay was focused on the task at hand. Following the incredibly lucky (and oh-so amazing!) discovery that the roof to the jumper bay retracted - something he should have discovered weeks ago, he berated himself silently - he had spent as much time as was humanly possible going through the city's computer systems. The roof retraction subroutine wasn't exactly small, and both he and the expedition's team of structural engineers had completely missed the apparatus that made it possible for the roof to retract, and he didn't like being taken unawares. There were probably at least another half-dozen similar programs built into the city somewhere and it was up to him to find them before someone else did.

Unfortunately, he had spent the last few weeks largely distracted and not combing through the bowels of Atlantis' computer. When you added together the time that Carson required he spend in the infirmary for "routine check-ups" just in case his ATA gene had unforeseen side effects or started to degrade (which, he allowed, wasn't entirely a waste of his time, as losing the gene would have catastrophic consequences since he would no longer be able to regulate many of the city's more touchy subsystems), the absolutely insane amount of time Lieutenant Ford forced him to spend in the city's makeshift armory testing weaponry (he was just starting to get the hang of the P90, although he still wasn't comfortable with carrying a firearm in general), the absurdly large amount of time he was forced to spend offworld talking to natives or exploring ancient archaeological ruins (which, for the most part, weren't actually Ancient, just old) or getting shot at (He got shot! in the face! and no one even seemed to care after the initial concern he might be dead! It was "He'll be fine, nevermind the fact that he can't feel his tongue!") working his way systematically through all of Atlantis' minor systems had sadly been an impossibility.

So, those duties got handed off to Grodin, Zelenka and the like. They were growing on him, he admitted. Grodin was a fine scientist and an even better organizer and had become Elizabeth's unofficial go-between with the scientific community (which meant she spent as little time interacting with Kavanaugh as possible) and had managed to keep just about all the ongoing research projects on schedule. Everything from trying to reverse-engineer a jumper (Zelenka was doing all right at understanding how the jumper worked, but actually trying to replicate one was clearly beyond his immediate capabilities) to very carefully studying what Beckett continued to be convinced was an Ancient research lab into the possibility of artificial Ascension.

He'd actually been working on Zelenka's jumper project, trying to help him figure out exactly how the jumper's power source worked and why they all hadn't gone dead with 10,000 years of negligence when Sergeant Bates had busted into his lab and dumped all of Teyla's belongings onto his desk. At the time he'd been exceptionally reluctant - although he'd been somewhat intimidated by Teyla at first, she'd saved his life at least twice over the course of their first nine missions offworld (which was about half the number of times he'd saved the lives of each of the other team members, he thought smugly) and he... appreciated her adaptability.

Then he'd found the Wraith transmitter device and he'd actually considered the possibility that she might be a security risk, he admitted guiltily. That worry had been quickly disabused by Major Sheppard who immediately pointed out that the device in question was one that he had found back on Athos, which prompted McKay to analyze it again and realize it wasn't tracking Teyla, it was tracking Sheppard. And himself, he considered - his Ancient gene might have been working against him as well as for him in this particular instance.

But still, McKay was finding himself almost consumed by those few moments of weakness to the point where he was unable to read Zelenka's notes comparing the jumper energy modules to the more powerful ZPM unit. He sighed and let his eyes glaze over, leaning down over the keyboard with his head in his hands. For those few instants between discovery and Sheppard's sudden insight into what the Wraith device was, he'd been convinced that Teyla was a spy. An enemy. Even a monster.

If he'd found the transmitter in Sheppard's belongings, he would have examined it and discovered it was keyed to the Ancient gene before going back to Bates. He would have looked twice, figured it out before jumping to conclusions. But because Teyla was the outsider he'd willingly suspended what he should have known was true - that she was no traitor - and allowed his imagination to run away with him.

He'd even gone through her belongings without her permission, even before that, he suddenly realized. If he'd asked Teyla she would undoubtedly said it was all right for him to check through the items she brought with them offworld - someone should have considered the possibility that it was an item someone had picked up, not a person, who was responsible weeks ago! But even then he'd followed Bates' order, despite the fact that as a civilian he had no obligation to follow anyone's orders except Elizabeth and Major Sheppard, and the second was only because he was a member of Sheppard's team.

He should have asked, he berated himself. He should never have jumped to conclusions. He should have...

"McKay!" a voice exclaimed from the doorway. "You need to go get some sleep. With gate operations back to normal, we'll be headed out sooner than you think," Sheppard moseyed into the office, glancing down at his watch. "But I guess it's not too late yet." Sheppard walked behind McKay, glancing over his shoulders at (what to him must have looking like utter gibberish) the detailed schematics of the jumper power source. "Oh, Ford is fine, if you were wondering. He tripped and hit his head, the klutz, when the Wraith were shooting at him. Doc Beckett says it might be a minor concussion but he's just plain paranoid, and he's cleared Ford for duty so we'll be headed back out tomorrow."

At this point, Sheppard realized that McKay wasn't responsive. He waved a hand in front of the scientist's face. "Hey! McKay! You're the one who doesn't sleep until it's way past time!" Sheppard eyed him, head cocked slightly. "Are you suffering from caffeine withdrawal? We really gotta get you to stop drinking up the expeditions stores, when it's gone, it's gone..." McKay continued to be unresponsive, so Sheppard shrugged. "I assume you heard everything I said, but just in case... mission tomorrow, Ford fine, stop drinking coffee, go get some sleep."

Sheppard took one last glance at McKay, peering over his shoulders in an attempt to see whatever it was he was staring at, then shrugged. "Whatever," he muttered, and headed for the door.

One foot was through the door frame when McKay finally spoke. "Sheppard, have you apologized to Teyla?"

Sheppard stopped, turned on his heels, and took on an inquisitive expression. "Well... no. But I never doubted Teyla was innocent. It's the other Athosians I owe an apology." He shrugged. "I knew it wasn't any of our guys and I while couldn't believe that one of them would be responsible for our troubles with the Wraith, eventually it got to the point where it seemed the only real possibility that could explain the constant run-ins." He stepped back into the room.

McKay was silent. "I owe Teyla an apology," he admitted.

"So apologize. It's not that hard. You find the other person, walk up to them, and say 'Hey. I'm sorry I doubted you.'"

"It's not that easy."

"Yeah, Rodney, it is that easy."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it..." Sheppard sighed, exasperated. "I am not going to have one of those six-year old back and forth debates with you!" He pressed the talk button on his radio. "Teyla, you there?" He paused and grinned at the horror that had suddenly appeared on McKay's face. "Nah, it's nothing really vital, in fact I suspect that it will get old really fast over the course of the next day, but you're needed over in McKay's lab. Nah, it's no hurry, but I'd get here before he goes to bed." Sheppard glanced over at McKay who suddenly looked like a caged rat. "Actually, Teyla, try not to take so long. If you do, your reason for coming down might mysteriously vanish. No, I told you, it's not vital... All right, I'll wait for you to make sure he doesn't run off. Thanks." He switched off his radio. "Two words, McKay. I'm sorry."

McKay was back hunched over his keyboard, head in hands. "Unbelievable!"

Sheppard looked perplexed at McKay's reticence. "You obviously must not screw up much. I could give you lessons in that, if you like. Are you new to this whole apology thing? Not your scene?"

"No!" McKay retorted. "I apologized to Samantha Carter once!"

"Oh, well if you've apologized to someone once, then it shouldn't be so hard to do it a second time." Sheppard didn't laugh, but McKay could tell he wanted to. "Do you want me to stay and hold your hand?"

"Major Sheppard, you asked for me?" Teyla's smooth voice floated through the room between them and Sheppard's face took on an increasingly taunting expression.

"Get out!" McKay hissed.

Sheppard turned towards the door grinned at Teyla, who was clearly confused. "Good luck!" he said to her jauntily, then left with a hop in his step.

Teyla entered the room slowly, as if searching for a hidden threat. "Rodney?" she asked slowly, cautiously. "Did you require my presence for something?"

McKay stood tenuously. "I... ah... well..." He grimaced and Teyla's face took on the beginnings of a knowing - and understanding - expression. "I wanted to say I was sorry," he spit out. "I shouldn't have gone through your things without your permission, and I shouldn't have doubted..."

Teyla smiled. "It's all right, Rodney. I accept your apology, and I understand you were concerned. Had I been in your situation I may have come to the same conclusion."

"I... well... you do?" McKay asked tremulously.

"Yes," Teyla responded. "You are very far from home and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that none of your people could be working for the Wraith. It is only understandable that you should suspect those that are not of your world when faced with these kinds of questions." Teyla rested a comforting hand on McKay's shoulder. "Lieutenant Ford introduced me to an expression from your world, although I suspect it is not said in exactly this way: 'stuff happens.' I do not hold your anxieties against you, Doctor, and would have been more concerned if you and the others had disregarded the clear and obvious thread for no reason other than your unwillingness to suspect me. You may view such sentiment as a strength, but when faced with the Wraith it can sometimes lead to an untimely death."

"I see," McKay responded. He sat down. "I just..." he paused and Teyla sat in an opposing chair, waiting for him to continue. "Where we come from, most of the people don't even know there is life outside our own atmosphere. The governments fear what such knowledge would do and believe it would panic the people and... well..." McKay gave a short burst of laughter, "they're probably right. But because we did not have outside threats like the Wraith or the Goa'uld, we found enemies amongst one another. National boundaries, ethnic differences, religious conflicts, things that don't exist out here cause constant strife on Earth. We did not fight enemies like the Wraith, so instead we fought each other. I suspected you because you were different... because you were from here. Even I have not escaped two thousand years of indoctrination."

Teyla looked even more confused now than she had before. "But... it was my differences from you that made it possible for me to be a threat. If I had been from your world I could not have been a servant to the Wraith." Realizing that this did not make McKay feel any better, she shrugged. "I believe you are a good man, Doctor McKay, if flawed. But we all have our flaws. It is best if we are aware of them. Think of this as a learning experience. You learned something of yourself. Now you know it is there and will be able to avoid letting it dictate your beliefs in the future."

"All right," McKay sighed. "I am sorry, Teyla."

"I am sorry also. I did not think that one of my possessions could be servant to the Wraith. It is something my people and I should have considered, but I believed that an item that once was a gift from my father could not possibly be made to serve our enemy." She smiled sadly. "We all must learn from our mistakes."

-Stargate Atlåntis-

Sheppard shook his head in bemusement as he left McKay's lab, Teyla and McKay still inside. McKay was starting to grow into his own, he admitted as he meandered slowly back in the general direction of the gate room. Despite his shame at his actions in regards to Teyla and the Athosians, McKay had done well and, in Sheppard's opinion, done the right thing in every case.

Sheppard himself had allowed his personal feelings to get in the way of his better judgment. The people who populated Atlantis, including the Athosians, were the closest thing he had to family - he had long been estranged from his own and hadn't spoken to his father or brother since long before he'd even been assigned to Antarctica, well over a year. Maybe even two years, he mused. And it could be a long time before he spoke to any of them again.

Perhaps against his own soldier's instincts, he had found himself growing close to his team, including Teyla, but also to Ford and McKay. He'd only known them for a matter of months, but he'd saved each of their lives and they had saved his. In a small, isolated and self-dependent community like Atlantis, there was always anxiety that you could lose those few that you had and Sheppard, as the base military commander, had fewer than most.

In the last few weeks he'd grown a little more comfortable, socializing with more people (especially with the women), but close relationships were something he had to shy away from. Despite that, he'd allowed himself to be compromised in terms of his feelings for his team. He wasn't sure how to describe what they meant to him - Ford was something of a little brother, he supposed, what with the baiting and teasing between them, such as their continuing back and forth over naming rights. McKay... cousin? Second cousin? McKay was definitely the most brilliant member of his own fledgling Atlantian family, but he coupled that with the cliche social ineptitude, making him the polar opposite of Sheppard in many ways (Sheppard would never admit to him that he'd passed the Mensa test, that was a conversation they really didn't need to have). Teyla was... probably the hardest to describe. Aside from the extremely muted attraction they had to one another, something he knew they both acknowledged and silently agreed acting on would be a very bad idea, she was the closest thing he'd ever had to a sister. Her calming presence and her wisdom - and her innate ability to seemingly be aware of her circumstances at all times, despite whatever chaos that surrounded them - helped to give him a balance and stability he had lacked since he almost got thrown out of the military following the incident in Afghanistan.

Bates had been right, although so had Sheppard - Teyla hadn't been a security breach, but the reason he refused to even contemplate the possibility was largely a consequence of his refusal to consider that one of his fledgling family could be a traitor. He had never been one to trust blindly, and so granting her that level of trust so quickly after they had met was probably dangerous, but she had earned it. It wasn't exactly personal feelings in the way Bates had probably intended it when he'd thrown it in his face - he knew there were rumors about him and, well, just about every woman he'd ever come into contact with on base, one of the unfortunate results of a small, insular community - but it was personal feelings.

He owed Bates an apology, he acknowledged. Bates might have seemed completely paranoid and overly aggressive, but he needed to be. Out here, so far from home and severed from everything they had ever known, such paranoia was probably as useful as it was dangerous. And, while that paranoia had led Bates to effectively violate Teyla's personal property, it had also led to the discovery of their security breach and Teyla's vindication.

It was somewhat ironic that it wasn't Teyla the Wraith had been hunting, but him. That probably shouldn't surprise him, in hindsight - as far as the Wraith were concerned, Teyla was food. Sheppard, on the other hand, held in his DNA the legacy of the Wraith's ancient enemy, an enemy they had fought and eventually defeated in a hard-fought war. He remembered the look on the Wraith's face back after he'd shot Sumner when she recognized the life signs detector he carried - a combination of surprise, shock, and a faint uneasiness that had looked out of place, as if it was something she hadn't experienced in a long time. Millennia, perhaps.

Sheppard's train of thought cut off abruptly when he came to the entrance to the gate room and strode inside, glancing about. Grodin and Zelenka were hunched over one of the computers, doing whatever it was they did in their free time. Weir was talking to someone in her office, he couldn't recognize who it was from here.

He jogged up the flight of stairs, glancing towards the post that Bates usually occupied while he was on duty, but it was vacant. Tossing a short look towards Grodin and Zelenka, both of them preoccupied with what they were doing and seemingly unaware of his presence, he took a few long strides towards Weir's office. He stopped short when he realized it was Bates chatting with his boss, their conversation quietly animated. He caught Weir's eyes for an instant but she looked away before Bates realized, and she stood up, clearly ending the conversation. Bates nodded and turned around, meeting Sheppard's eyes.

Weir dismissed Bates and the Sergeant walked towards Sheppard, seemingly confident. "Major," he acknowledged as he came close.

"Sergeant," Sheppard replied. He paused for a long second, the two of them silently recognizing their respective positions of authority and the roles they each filled on Atlantis. "Bates," Sheppard finally started again, his voice trailing off. "Keep doing what you're doing," he finished.

Bates nodded slowly. "You too, Major." Then with some mutual, unspoken agreement they walked past one another, Bates heading to his station, and Sheppard heading into Weir's office.

She too had become a member of his family, like Teyla, McKay, and Ford... he had even more trouble placing her than he did Teyla. Their mutual attraction was far less subdued than the one he shared with Teyla, what with the persistent flirting they both enjoyed, although it was equally unlikely that it would ever be acted upon. He wondered at that, whether if they hadn't been the expedition leader and its military commander, if they would have acted upon the attraction... but there were lots of other women in Atlantis and it wasn't worth dwelling upon.

He admitted, though, that their arguments felt less like professional arguments and more like the arguments he used to have with his ex-wife. Weir knew everything he did because he reported to her, while three-quarters of his missions had been classified during his marriage. His then-wife had never really known what he was doing, other than he was overseas flying something somewhere...

So definitely not sibling... maybe in his imaginary family his brother had married her sister? Come to think of it, did Weir even have a sister? Or any siblings at all?

He suddenly realized he'd been lost in thought halfway between where he'd been talking to Bates and Weir's office and she was staring at him with that damned flirtatious twinkle in her eye. She played the game well, he realized ruefully, perhaps even better than he, even though she didn't pursue it as... actively... as he did.

"John?" she asked, amusement dancing in her voice. "Did you want to talk to me, or did you just want to wait in the imaginary line?"

Sheppard grinned ruefully. "I was lost in thought," he admitted, entering the room and resting in the chair opposite her desk.

"I could see that," she responded. She gestured towards the doorway. "What'd you say to Bates?"

"Oh, you know, general encouragement and the sort." He raised his eyebrow slightly in a challenge. "Just because I threw him out of our meeting doesn't mean I don't appreciate what he brings to Atlantis."

"And what does Sergeant Bates bring to Atlantis?"

Sheppard paused, having not anticipated the question. Weir looked on, curious. "Equal parts impartiality and paranoia," Sheppard finally responded.

"Impartiality and paranoia. Valuable qualities in a security chief," Weir said, nodding. "I think I'll keep him." Weir paused. "We're lucky, you know," she said.

Sheppard glanced up. Weir had lost the levity of her earlier expression. "What part of this whole situation strikes you as lucky?"

"That the Athosians were so understanding, and more importantly, that they were so willing to move to the mainland. If they'd been more confrontational, or if they'd been unwilling to understand the difficulty of our situation..."

"You owe Teyla for that, you know," Sheppard was quick to point out.

"I should thank her again, shouldn't I," Weir noted,

Sheppard winced. "I'd hold off on that if I were you... Teyla's going to be swamped with thanks and apologies over the next few days. In fact," he glanced at his watch, "I'd bet good money that she's still listening to McKay grovel with that stoic, super-polite look on her face."

Weir smiled slightly. "Well, since I've already apologized once, I'll wait and let everyone else get their turn in before taking a second one for myself," she allowed.

"That might be a good idea," Sheppard confirmed. He waved at the pile of papers on her desk. "So, what's next on our long list of problems?"

Weir offhandedly picked up a stack of papers, flipping negligently through them. "Well, there's... the Wraith..." she tossed the paper behind her. "Our dwindling food supplies..." she tossed the next paper, "our always-pressing need for a ZPM, which Rodney is always quick to remind me about," she sighed as she flipped the paper, "Carson wants more test subjects for the ATA gene but so far no one has volunteered," she stopped flipping pages and dropped the still-thick stack back on the desk, "and, of course, your request that I have all the civilians on base train with basic firearms."

Sheppard looked confused. "What's wrong with that?"

Weir hit him with a look that clearly broadcast skepticism. "John."

"I've got a .45 cal with your name on it, although if you want a weapon which is slightly more feminine," he raised an eyebrow at her and got an equal look in response, "my superiors were sure to bring a whole host of 9 millimeters."

"John, I'm not going to let you teach me how to use a handgun."

"I guarantee you'll be forced to learn eventually."

"I've spent my life trying to eradicate the need for weapons, Major. That was my calling. I'm not going to let you teach me how to use them."

Sheppard leaned forward, cocking his head. "And there's a slight difference between the United Nations and the Wraith."

Weir grimaced. "They're not as different as you might think," she muttered.

Sheppard grinned at her. "Eventually, I will get you into a firing range."

She shrugged, leaning back into her chair, accepting his challenge with a held glance and a half smile. "We'll see."

Sheppard gestured towards the stack of papers on her desk. "You left out one rather major concern."

"Oh?"

"The fact that we now have a Wraith locked in our confinement cells?"

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten," Weir replied. "You spoke to him?"

"Spoke is a good word for it... it wasn't exactly an interrogation and I was very careful to stay on the far side of the barrier," John said dryly.

"What did he have to say?"

Sheppard grimaced. "You know those SGC combat mission reports you had me read? Especially those by General O'Neill, with his constant complaints about the Goa'uld's seemingly psychological need to be overly dramatic in a superhero bad guy kind of way?"

Despite the subject material, Weir smiled. "I remember."

"He said that by capturing him, we'd 'hastened our own doom' and that when the other Wraith came, there'd be nowhere we could hide. Oh, and that when he escaped, he'd be sure to feed on me first."

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" At Sheppard's sudden incredulous look, she quickly amended it with, "about our hastening our own doom. Maybe he has some way to communicate with the rest of his kind."

"We were sure to take all of his gizmos and gadgets away from him. He didn't even have anything interesting."

"But there is much we don't know about the Wraith, John. Maybe they're telepathic! Maybe they can sense the presence of other Wraith. We know they are capable of manipulating the minds of their prisoners."

Sheppard shrugged. "Do you want me to go down there and shoot him to be safe?" Weir glared at him. "Just saying..."

"Is he secure?"

"Bates is making sure of it."

"We do need to find out what he's capable of doing," Weir pointed out.

"We could just let Beckett do an autopsy..."

"...and this is the best way to learn right now." She narrowed her eyes at him. "No killing prisoners."

"Just by holding him we're killing him. It's not like we can feed him, we're basically starving him to death."

"And then we can let Carson do an autopsy," Weir said. Sheppard's eyes widened at her apparent callousness and Weir shrugged in response. "Pragmatism."

"I guess I can't argue with that logic..." Sheppard's eyes were drawn back to the stack of papers on her desk that he was effectively distracted her from with this little tete-a-tete. "I'm going to go check on Ford," he said suddenly. "He was well enough to come along earlier, but Beckett said he might have a minor concussion, and besides, we have a mission tomorrow."

Weir smiled. "I'll go back to pondering the dozen different major problems Atlantis has to solve between now and next week."

Sheppard glanced at her sideways as he stood and headed for the door. "You do that," he agreed.

Weir smiled at him. "Good night, John."

Sheppard waved at her jauntily. "Night boss."