Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

This came up from a bizarre idea and I hope it fits for McKay. Overall it's meant to be a shippy angle but most is more about McKay than anything else and even though I wrote it with one ship in mind you could bring your own ship pretty much.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes up until The Eye.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

Integer

Untouched.
Whole.
Complete.
Not divided, or worse, lacking.

He always strived towards perfection.
Whether it was mathematical formula or the movement of his fingers over the keys on a piano.

He always aimed high, higher than he could reach.
Perfection.
It seemed godlike.
But then he didn't believe in god.
But sometimes he believed in himself, very briefly.
Because when it mattered he had to - had to come through under pressure.

He did succeed more often than not but it was far from perfect - every thing here only exacerbated the feeling he'd had as long as he could remember.
The words ringing in his ears, "It's not good enough, you're not good enough."

Ancient technology far beyond them, outside the scope of his present understanding.
But he tried. Stubborn was a McKay quality - could call it a flaw but it worked well for him.
Try through the night, til the morning. He didn't give up on the answers, even if he couldn't resist giving in and gave them away on occasion.

People he didn't do well but things, numbers, facts responded to him. They lined up, answers forming out of the chaos.
It was his control over the world. He had the answers. Always had to come up with them and they made him worth something - saved the day.

He wasn't the hero but he was a genius, their genius. His knowledge knew no bounds as far as they were concerned, that was what he told them anyway.
Maybe they half-believed him but as they'd admitted no one thought he was superman.
And as he knew he was only human. Limited by his own mind and his body like everyone else's; breakable. His heart fragile too and so hidden deep within and away from them all.
At least that had been the plan.

Perfection was his rule - for himself and for others. Everything had to be just right, just so.
It meant he was always working, always one more answer away, one more thing to keep him busy.
Because if he stopped working he stopped being useful.
And then what was he?
A man. Flawed.
If he didn't have the answers he couldn't claim to be a genius. And wouldn't have any right to be here, to be at all.

He always strived towards perfection.
So it made sense that he looked up to her.
Made sense that he wanted to impress her.
That he wanted to be with her.

People he didn't do well, but her...
He felt at ease, himself to a degree, whatever he was underneath what made him.
But the thing was he never really tried to reach out to her.
Couldn't bring himself to say it or do anything.
Because he had a perfection - a friendship. Maybe friends wasn't perfect compared to what he wished they had but it was perfect in itself - something to hold onto.
To try for more in this case was risky however you looked at it. In that way it wasn't worth trying for what he'd lose if he didn't come out on top.

He always strived towards perfection.
And he always failed miserably.
So really it shouldn't come as a surprise.