Per Alicus Oculae
A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, guys! I'm really enjoying your guesses. Apparently, a lot of you think Zelenka is running the show... hmm... I really enjoy when you tell me which lines you like; that way I know what works and what doesn't.
gatelover313: I had to read your question a million times to understand what you were trying to ask, lol, but I think I got it! There are no 'duplicates' so to speak of Shep and McKay running around in either reality, meaning there isn't a 'real' Shep and a 'Doc Shep' coexisting in the same reality. It's all part of how the device works. I'll explain it better in a later chapter, I promise!
Klenotka: Your English is great; don't sweat it! I have plans for Zelenka, don't worry. Though Teyla being Rodney's wife would be extremely funny! I think I'll let another author tackle that one. :)
Laura-trekkie: I don't know, is he?
elemental-sparky: Ok, even I'm not that evil. Putting someone in Kavanagh's body is just... wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. ;)
TubaPrincess, Whistler84: You know, I honestly don't know how McKay got on to talking about Disney. I just figured since he has a habit of going off on tangents... and Disney was the first thing that popped into my brain. I'm weird like that. As for the other stuff he was talking about, I have no idea. I made it up and used big words. ;)
OutofPhase (from Ch. 4): Not necessarily the person who most annoys them, just whatever my warped mind comes up with. :)
Chapter 6: Munchkins or Oompaloompas
Jogging to catch up, McKay skidded to a halt next to John's side in the control room. Immediately, he bent over, braced his hands against his knees for support, and started sucking in mouthfuls of air. He had only run a few dozen yards and already he was out of breath.
"No, I'm fine," the scientist said with a hint of scorn to his voice as he realized the major didn't even notice him gasping for life. "No, really…," gasp, "no need to show concern…," gasp, "I could die of a heart attack anytime, but…," wheeze, "don't bother lifting a finger to help me or anything…," pant. "You do know Last Rites, don't you?"
Still, John's eyes remained fixed on something beyond McKay's field of vision, something in what had been Dr. Weir's office. His eyes were narrowed in skepticism but a small smile rested upon his lips.
"What, may I ask, is so utterly fascinating that it is currently preventing you from coming to the aid of a dying man?" Rodney wondered.
"Oh, you're going to love this…" Sheppard grinned, and pointed to where his gaze fell.
Making a big show of standing, like it was some Olympic feat, Rodney followed John's finger to Weir's former office. Immediately, his mouth fell open in disbelief, then shock, then fury, then dread.
"No. No, no, absolutely not. I refuse to accept that the biggest ass in this entire city, the biggest sleaze ball now in not one but two galaxies is the head of Atlantis. This is one seriously messed up alternate dimension," Rodney griped.
"Aren't they all," Major Sheppard said with mock sincerity.
"I mean, Kavanagh! Kavanagh of all people! Kavanagh, as in if-he-were-to-ever-have-children-they'd-be-born-with-cloven-hooves Kavanagh! I knew Elizabeth should have thrown him on that deserted planet when she had the chance…."
"Hey, are you still sure this is some sort of parallel universe and not one of your nightmares?" John wondered.
"I don't know. Pinch me."
Sheppard threw him a disturbed look. "McKay, I amnot going to pinch you-"
"It was rhetorical, Major."
"Oh. Good."
They went back studying Kavanagh, who was currently busy working with his only friend: his laptop. He sat hurriedly typing away, most likely at some berating report that condemned some poor soul on the base.
"What do you want to do?" asked John.
"I was thinking tar and feather-"
"No, I mean about getting that device back. Should we just go in there and ask him to dial up P7G-117?"
"Well, we can't very well just waltz in there and say, 'Hey there, Kavanagh. We really hate your guts, and although this is an alternate reality, we're pretty sure you hate ours, too, but could you please let Atlantis's chief medical doctor and the Athosian leader to Gate to this planet in the middle of nowhere? Maybe as a paid vacation-'"
"Okay, I see your point," Sheppard grumbled. "But we have to try something. I'm getting sick of walking around in this lab coat."
"Don't even get me started on our outfits of the day, Major," bemoaned the scientist, tugging furiously on the neckline of his Athosian ensemble. "Even Liberace wouldn't touch this cheesy flea market/gypsy/peasant number with a ten foot pole."
John suppressed the urge to ridicule the man. He did look ridiculous, after all. "Touché. All right, let's just go in there, try explaining what's happening, and hope for the best."
"Fine. But let's keep the details to a minimum, shall we?"
Both men entered the office, Rodney not bothering to knock. That was a sign of respect that McKay just couldn't seem to muster up for the weasel sitting behind the desk. Sheppard cast the astrophysicist a 'be careful' look; if they were going to pull this off, they would need to avoid getting on Kavanagh's nerves.
Rodney promptly sat himself in one of the chairs, not waiting for an invitation.
"Please, have a seat," said Kavanagh dryly, looking up condescendingly from his computer screen at McKay. He went back to typing on his keyboard. "What can I do for you two?" he asked, not really caring.
Before McKay could open his mouth and potentially spit out something asinine, John answered for them. This particular situation required a certain amount of tact that the Canadian scientist just didn't possess.
"Here's the thing, Kavanagh: we need to go to P7G-117." Short, sweet, and vague.
Atlantis's new leader just stared back at them from behind the desk, that greasy hair, stubby ponytail, and those beady eyes wanting to make Rodney throw up. Or at least fire him from his science team when they got back. He even doubted his glasses were real. They were probably a non-prescription pair and just an added prop to make the guy look smart. And they were failing miserably at their job.
"That's it?" Four Eyes asked. "You're not going to tell me why?"
McKay, who was now sitting back in the chair with his arms crossed, stifled a contemptuous laugh. "No."
"Then we're done here." Kavanagh went back to typing on his computer. McKay suspected he wasn't working on a report at all, but looking up the Ancient equivalent of a dirty website.
Frowning at McKay's knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, John tried to smooth things over. "We, uh, think there may be a device there - an Ancient device." He stopped, hoping that would be enough to convince Kavanagh.
It wasn't. "And?"
"And…," John searched for words, "we think that this device can be… of some scientific value to us."
"And you know this how, exactly?"
Taking a deep breath, John tried to think of a way to circumnavigate certain details lest Kavanagh think they were both crazy. "Well, that's a good question. See, a funny thing happened-"
"Look," McKay interrupted. He stood, all patience now vanished. "This whole thing - Atlantis, the Pegasus Galaxy, the entire universe even - it's not real. Granted, it's real in the sense that it exists…." Rodney realized he probably wasn't being clear. "It's not reality, not our reality. It's an altered copy. So we need to go back to P7G-117 to get this device and put things back the way they were."
Kavanagh just stared at them, processing. "Uh-huh. So… none of this is real?"
Scoffing, Rodney answered, "Really, you didn't actually think a miserable little man such as yourself would be the head of Atlantis, now did you?
John inwardly cringed. Rodney just didn't know when to shut up, did he? Suddenly, the major got this nice mental image of himself slapping the loose-lipped scientist upside the head. A heavy silence descended upon the room as Kavanagh's face turned beet red.
"If that was your idea of a joke, Rodney, it was a bad one. I suggest you return to your duties before I put you both on report for insolence and lying to a superior," he hissed in a quiet but shocked and menacing tone. "You're dismissed."
"What? You're not even going to hear us out?" John cried. "I guess you're just as much as a jackass here as you are in the real world…" he mumbled. So much for tact.
"What was that, Doctor?"
"I said-"
"You know what, you're absolutely right, Kavanagh," McKay interjected. "It was a joke and a bad one at that; I'm afraid I'm not a very funny man - you know, Canadian humor and all - so if you'll just excuse us, we'll get back to work and out of your hair."
"What? What is your problem, Rodney-" John started.
"Doctor," insisted Rodney. "Why don't we just head back to the infirmary and leave the goodman here to his work?" He cast John a knowing look.
John glared at both Kavanagh and McKay, clearly agitated, as Rodney practically dragged him back through the door by his arm.
"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?" hissed John as soon as they were out of earshot.
"I wasn't the one who almost bit the chief of Atlantis's head off," came back the scientist. "And I thought I was the one who was going to blow up at him. I suppose in that way I envy you." He paused to think and shrugged. "Anyway, I have an idea."
"If it involves tar and feathering, I can think of way more creative things to do to the little worm-"
"Would you drop it already, Major? You're not the one who has to work with him every day. And no, it doesn't involve tar and feathering. I think I know how to get him to listen to us, without getting us a one-way ticket to the Funny Farm."
Breathing in deeply a lungful of air, John calmed himself down. "Okay, shoot."
"Well, he may be the Atlantis's team leader… Wow, I can't believe I just said that. It really must be a cold day in hell. Pigs must be flying somewhere. The federal budget must be balanced. The sky is falling-"
"All right, McKay. We get it."
"Right. As I was saying, Kavanagh-" he coughed "-may be Atlantis's leader, but he's still Kavanagh." He looked up as though it explained everything.
"I noticed," John answered sardonically. "So?"
"Are you sure there's anything between those ears of yours? So luckily for us, that still means he's a complete and utter egomaniacal, narcissistic, pompous, self-absorbed, self-centered, vainglorious, megalomaniac simpleton. At least that's what I'm counting on."
"And that makes us lucky… how?"
"God forbid you should do some thinking for once in your life, Major," McKay sighed. "Don't you see? All we have to do is convince Kavanagh that there's something in it for him, and he'll be practically shoving us through that wormhole to P7G-117. It's brilliant, really," Rodney beamed, not missing the opportunity to glorify himself.
"Ah, I like how your mind works, Rodney," complimented John with a smile, now seeing the plan come together. Even that head of yours is a little eccentric. "Good thinking."
"Yes, I know; isn't that what I just said?"
"You know, I'm pretty sure the proper protocol for when someone gives you a compliment is to accept it and say 'thank you,' not 'I know.' I hear 'thank you very much' is pretty popular, too. "
But Rodney was distracted by the millions of synapses in his brain all firing simultaneously, each feeding him information about his plans for the next ZPM, the proper start-up and shut-down procedure for a naquadah generator, the mathematical probability that their little plan of theirs wasn't going to work, the doctor's appointment he forgot to cancel in advance before he left Earth, did he leave the stove on at home or not, who would win in a face-off: munchkins or oompaloompas, and if one of those third-grade science fair potato batteries would solve any of their power consumption problems. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he finally asked.
"Nevermind," John sighed. "Let's go." Please, God, get me home….
As soon as they re-entered Kavanagh's office, McKay cut to the chase, not wasting any time. He put both hands down on the man's desk and leaned in. "Okay, look. What if we told you this device was so significant - so valuable - that it had the potential to change the entire field of science as we know it? To change life as we know it?"
"And tell me why I should care, Rodney," challenged Dr. Kavanagh, not looking up.
"For starters," John answered for him, "there'd be a pretty little promotion sitting back at the SGC for you. When they find out that you were the one in charge of the team that recovered the device…." He let the gravity of what he had just said sink in through the scientist's thick skull.
That snapped his head up. They could both practically see the wheels turning in Kavanagh's head. Albeit very tiny, very rusty wheels. "And you say this device… it could change life as we know it?"
They nodded eagerly.
"And you're sure it's there on this planet?"
Again, nods.
"And you want me to send a team to this planet to go get it."
More nods, followed by silence. John could feel the moment slipping away, their opportunity going right out the window.
"Ah, all in the name of science, of course," he tried.
"Hmm, naturally," Rodney added, for whatever it was worth.
"A promotion…" thought Kavanagh aloud.
He pursed his lips in thought, trying to weigh the pros and cons of the situation. There was always a chance that something could go disastrously wrong, and then what? He would be blamed and there would go his command. But that promotion did sound awful nice….
"Fine. But I won't be held accountable if anything should go wrong on this mission, understand?"
Trying desperately hard not to roll his eyes, John managed force a fake smile and agree. Yep, that's Kavanagh.
"And I want my name on the top of the mission report that the SGC will be receiving. I'll have a team put together immediately and I'll notify you both when they return with this device. You two can go back to your duties now."
Rodney frowned. "What do you mean? We're not going along?"
"Sorry, I can't spare you two. Both of you have important jobs to take care of." He smirked maliciously. Despite what he said, McKay suspected that Kavanagh was simply spiting them for the sake of spiting them.
"Now if you both can just leave some notes on where to find this device and how to get there, et cetera, et cetera," he continued, "I'm sure the team will be able to recover it. You're both dismissed now."
They walked out of the office slightly dejected. "Well, you win some, you lose some, right McKay?" John asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"What if something does go wrong, Major, and I'm not there to fix it as usual? How's that saying go? 'If you want something done right, do it yourself?' I just don't trust anyone enough not to mess things up."
"Thanks a lot, Rodney," replied John in a mock-offended tone.
"No, that's not what I meant. I mean I don't trust anyone but our team, that's all."
John looked at his friend in a new light. Maybe he had been wrong all this time. Maybe McKay wasn't as self-centered as everyone thought, maybe he was a team player just like everyone else-
"Well now, granted," Rodney continued, "I am an integral part of that team, perhaps the most valuable member even, so I suppose what I'm really saying is that I can't afford to trust anyone else but myself after all. Especially to do my job. Who knows what goon has my spot as the top scientist of the expedition, anyway."
Then again, maybe not, John thought.
As they stood leaning on the railing of the bridge just past the control room, McKay's question was suddenly and unexpectedly answered. Below them on the Gate room floor, a team assembled for departure. Elizabeth, the military leader, led the outfit, with Beckett assisting her as the 2IC. Looking to the left, Rodney spotted… Bates as one of the scientists? No, he was dressed in the same blue and tan jacket, but judging by the books and blueprints he carried, he was clearly an anthropologist or linguist. He had a thin beard. Gone was his fiery, aggressive attitude - replaced instead by a calm, cool demeanor. If only that were the case, John thought.
Walking briskly into the Gate room was another military member, coming to join the team. A sergeant, so his chevrons said, but he didn't quite - Holy spherical aberrations, it's Zelenka! McKay realized. Without his glasses and clean shaven, the former scientist looked incredibly different. He no longer hunched but walked with an air of confidence, his eyes automatically scanning the area scrupulously.
And off to his right was the head of the science team. Rodney couldn't quite catch a glimpse of her… if she just turned around….
"Oh my God. Major, you have to see this." He tapped his friend on his shoulder.
John fixed his gaze on where Rodney was pointing and found Teyla, the fifth and final member of the new flagship team. Uber-nerd Teyla. Her hair was shorter and somewhat disheveled and she had tiny, pointy purple glasses that looked like something John's great-grandmother would wear. Overall she looked unkempt, like she had just pulled a college all-nighter running on coffee alone. The science uniform certainly didn't become her; somehow she was more suited to her purple Athosian blouse. Gone was her proud, noble attitude, replaced by a jumpy, nervy demeanor. Her eyes darted around like something was going to spring suddenly out of the walls.
McKay groaned. "Of all people, Teyla has my job. That's just great. No offense to her, but I hope you're prepared to stay here a while, Major."
"Hey, don't be so quick to jump to conclusions. For all you know, this Teyla could be smarter than you," teased John.
"That's highly unlikely."
"She certainly looks-" he resisted the urge to say 'geeky' "-smart, so maybe we've got a shot at this."
Out of the blue, an explosive sneeze from below snapped their heads back to the Gate room floor. Teyla held tissues to her nose while some of Bates's blueprints floated idly to the floor in a whirlwind of papers.
Rodney just stared smugly at John, wearing his best I-told-you-so look. "What was that you were saying, Sheppard?"
TBC
Just a couple more chapters to go, boys and girls. Yeah, I try to stick good ol' Kavs in my stories whenever possible, only because I love to hate him. He's coming back for season 2, so Gateworld says. Yay!
And I'm assuming everyone knows who Liberace is...?
More in a few days!