Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to Stargate Atlantis, nor am I making any type of profit from this story. It is a work of fan fiction, for enjoyment only.
Puzzles
By KerrAvon
Chapter 5 - MENSA"John…please." Sheppard pulled himself to consciousness at the desperation he heard behind the quiet request.
"Damn. Did it again. Sorry, Rodney."
When Dr. McKay didn't answer, Sheppard rolled his head to better see his friend. "Rodney?" The wan physicist lolled his head towards him; if anything he looked worse than before. His eyes now had dark circles beneath them, and his whole body seemed concentrated on the effort of breathing.
"Still here." McKay didn't care for the fuzziness he felt in his thinking processes. His whole world seemed to have narrowed down to keeping both himself and Sheppard awake until Carson could reach them, but he couldn't quite remember why. No matter; he didn't seem to be doing a very good job.
"Talk to me. I seem to be having trouble staying alert," mumbled John.
Rodney cast about his mind and was unable to come up with a riveting topic for conversation. Instead, he blurted out a question that had been eating him for several days. "Major. Why didn't you join MENSA?"
Sheppard was too blurry to censor his words. "You want the long version or the short one?"
McKay waved a hand half-heartedly in the air. "Might as well make it the long version - keep us both awake with any luck."
Sheppard sighed and stared off into the distance. "OK, but this is between you and me."
McKay raised three fingers. "Scout's honor."
Sheppard stared at him suspiciously for a moment, then nodded and took a deep breath. "All right. When I was twelve, Bobby was my best friend…."
"Hey John, wait up!" Bobby came panting up to his dark-haired best friend as school let out for the day.
Bobby Peterson was a skinny, freckled, red-haired boy who could never seem to keep his shirt completely tucked in. He always had a ready smile, a wicked joke, and tended to see the glass as perpetually half-full. While not as physically strong as John, he was always willing to participate in whatever hair-brained scheme the slightly older Sheppard had devised that day. John had met him the first day he'd come to this school, and liked him instantly. Now, he couldn't imagine life without him.
"Where've you been, John? You've been like….missing or something all day!"
Sheppard shot him a deprecating grin. "Awwww, Mr. Donaldson had a bunch of guys take some test; sent Dad home a permission slip and everything."
Bobby pulled out a pack of gum, took a piece, then offered one to John. "I wasn't asked to take any test. How come you got stuck?"
John unwrapped his gum and stuffed it in his mouth, then chewed violently. He didn't even mind that it was Spearmint, which he usually hated. Scuffing the sidewalk with his Nikes, he sent a pebble sailing, to impact loudly against the nearby wooden fence. "Oh, Donaldson made everybody he thinks is 'smart' take it…some brainiac club or something he wants us to join if we pass."
The redhead nearly choked on his laughter, "And he thinks that you're smart?"
"I beat Jeremy Johnson in the school chess tournament," John protested defensively.
"Yeah!" agreed Bobby enthusiastically. "You showed that jerk a thing or two; heck, you beat the whole school." He was inordinately proud of his buddy's achievement, and threw a congenial arm around his neck. "Still, that just means you're good at chess."
John blushed and ducked his head. "Well, I'm kinda good at math, and puzzles and stuff too, you know?"
"Sure, your brain's so big your head's gonna explode any minute now!" To demonstrate his point, Bobby ran his knuckles back and forth over the top of Sheppard's skull.
"Hey! You're messing up my hair!"
Bobby started giggling. "I don't see how you can tell! You always look like a scarecrow, hair all sticking up."
"Why you…!" A merry chase ensued which ended with a friendly wrestling match on Mrs. Simpson's front lawn. Afterwards, they lay panting on the ground, grass stains on their clothes, and tried to guess what the passing clouds looked like to each other.
When they finally continued the trek home, Bobby suddenly became serious. "Hey, I may not be smart, but if you get into this club…"
"Don't worry, you'll always be my best friend…retard!" John playfully called out as he sprinted off.
"What did you call me?" Bobby was on his heels in an instant, as twelve-year-old best friends usually are.
"That's very poignant, but what does it have to do with anything?" Rodney's native impatience overrode his pain receptors temporarily.
Sheppard glared at him. "You're the one that wanted the long version."
"Long version, sure, but not 'The Iliad'!"
"The 'test' was the MENSA test you were asking about," grated John. "And I apparently got a good enough score to be invited to join the organization. There was some recruitment party my Dad and I were invited to, and we got all dressed up and drove to this huge house in a ritzy part of town. They even had some guy parking the cars." He paused.
"And?' Rodney prompted when he showed no signs of continuing.
"Oh, well Dad seemed real uncomfortable that night. At the time I thought he was afraid I'd embarrass him, but now that I look back on it as an adult…"
"When did you become an adult?" Rodney interjected.
As if there had been no interruption, John continued, "I think he was afraid of embarrassing me. All the adults were sipping Merlot and comparing their IQ's - I doubt that Dad even knew what his IQ was, much less was interested in how it compared to others. It had no meaning in daily life."
"So you didn't join MENSA because you were afraid of embarrassing your Dad?" Rodney was incredulous.
"No, although it might have contributed a little to the decision. I ran into a couple of classmates that night; bookworms, teacher's pets - you know, the 'know it all', pocket-protector crowd. I mean, Jeremy Johnson even carried a briefcase to school instead of a backpack!"
It was McKay's turn to growl, "I carried a briefcase to school, too."
John waved a hand towards him. "My point exactly." He grinned to let Rodney know that he was teasing, then went on with his story.
His father had been whisked off to join the adult conversation, leaving John on his own. At a loss for what else to do, he wandered over to the refreshment table, self-consciously smoothing his hair. Picking up a saucer, he noticed that it was real china, rather than the plastic they used at home for parties. Selecting some cheese squares with little toothpicks, he was placing them on the dish when a voice smugly commented, "Look what the cat drug in, everybody. I need to send that Persian back; he has no taste at all!"
Whirling, John found himself face-to-face with three of the most obnoxious 'brains' in class. Jeremy Johnson, whose house it turned out they were in, was actually wearing a tuxedo, while Justin Freemont wore a three-piece suit with a pocket watch. Still, Melanie Graham's appearance made him choke; she was in a formal gown with her hair piled up on her head like some movie starlet, rings cascading down her back. John was embarrassed for her; for crying out loud, they were twelve! She didn't even have boobs yet, and the coke-bottom glasses belied the glamour of the outfit. He managed to stifle a giggle at the appearance of the three of them, putting on his 'I'm so cool I'll give you freezer-burn' mask.
"Jeremy." He smiled and extended a hand. "Been practicing your chess game recently?"
The boy with the slicked-back hair snarled and pointedly ignored the outstretched hand. John shrugged and dropped it.
"How did you get here, Sheppard? Copy Jeremy's test?" The shorter boy tried his best to be intimidating, but, since he was a god six inches shorter, John just thought he was pathetic.
"Right…." The sarcasm literally dripped off his words. "I was so desperate to get to this shin-dig and eat these…cute…little cheese cubes that I copied his test word for word."
The tension was broken by the sudden appearance of Mr. Donaldson, who put a friendly hand on both John and Jeremy's shoulders. "Don't let John kid you, boys; he didn't need to cheat. He got the best score in the class." Spying someone he wanted to speak to, the math teacher excused himself and hurried off.
There was nothing left to say. The boys glared at each other, then simultaneously whirled and stalked off in different directions.
"That's just…pathetic." Rodney commented. "Not all MENSA groups are like that. It's supposed to be a group to exchange challenging ideas and mental stimulation, not some sort of 'IQ contest'."
"Hey, I was twelve. All I knew was that I hated the members of that chapter. Dad had left the decision of whether or not to join up to me; I said 'no'."
Rodney took a deep breath. "Our Atlantis chapter is different…"
"Is Kavanagh a member?" John challenged.
Rodney shifted uncomfortably and mumbled, "Yes."
John raised an eyebrow. "I rest my case."
TBC…
AN: Thanks for all the reviews - I've fixed the prior chapter (I think), so on with the story! Thanks for the warm fuzzies!