Sensitivity: Part Four

Acting Weird

The midnight hour was no stranger to Carson Beckett. He'd spent several years working the shifts in a doctor's surgery down in the south of Scotland, seeing men who were brought in during the wee, small hours after a few ales became too many and they took offence where none was given.

However, this was Atlantis.

Colds and flu, injuries gained while running from the Wraith, ATA gene injections, assorted Athosian illnesses, standard feminine complaints, and even killer alien viruses were all familiar to Carson by now.

Patching up marines who'd gotten into a fight with each other was not.

The men were practically hauled into the infirmary by Major Sheppard and Sergeant Bates, neither of whom seemed happy about the situation. Both had the harried look of men dragged from their bed to oversee what they considered a minor dispute. Carson could understand that.

He glanced at the man whose cheek had been grazed when his head made a passing acquaintance with a doorframe. "What were you thinking, anyway, fighting at this hour?"

"What were they thinking, fighting at all?" Major Sheppard added.

The answers they received were confusing and confused. The most that Carson managed to gain from it was that there'd been a woman involved.

He stopped packing away the medical equipment and stared, unable to believe what he'd just heard. "You fought over a woman?"

The two men looked away, instantly abashed. If they'd been the floor-scuffing types, they'd have scuffed floor.

"They shouldn't have been fighting at all," Major Sheppard said with a glare at the man he'd frogmarched in.

"I think they know that, sir," Sergeant Bates said dryly.

A glance at the Major showed no mollification. "Do they? Two apparently well-trained soldiers fighting over a woman?"

There was a note of dark humour in Bates' voice as he suggested. "Maybe she was a woman worth scuffling over."

Carson watched in surprise as Major Sheppard's eyes narrowed slightly at the other man. "Are you condoning their behaviour, Sergeant?"

Sergeant Bates' expression hardened. "No, I am not, sir. I'm suggesting--"

"That I overlook this breach of conduct because it was over a woman?"

"No, sir."

The Major tilted his head slightly. "Then what are you suggesting?"

Bates was struggling with something. "Permission to speak freely, sir."

"Denied."

With a little alarm, Carson realised that both the marines were bristling slightly as well, although he wasn't sure if it was at Major Sheppard's words to Bates, or at each other. Right now, it could have been either, and Carson really didn't want to find out.

"Permission to get you all out of the office right now," he interrupted as Sergeant Bates opened his mouth again. "I don't want a fight in my infirmary, thank you very much."

There was a tense moment when nobody looked at him. Then Sheppard regarded the two marines. "You're both on punishment detail until I say otherwise."

"Sir." The two marines saluted and departed, leaving Sheppard and Bates regarding each other with wary gazes.

Carson really didn't like the way the two men were eyeing each other off. If he didn't say something then he had the feeling he'd end up with the two of them fighting each other before his very eyes. He took a deep breath, then let it out as Dr. Weir walked into the infirmary. Her presence immediately defused the situation.

"Carson," she said, after a quick glance at the two soldiers. "I heard there was a disturbance. Is everything okay?" She didn't look pleased, although it was clear she hadn't been roused from her sleep.

"Everything's fine, Elizabeth," Sheppard said before Carson could answer. "We had a small situation, but it's all cleared up now." He looked meaningfully at Sergeant Bates. "Right, Sergeant?"

"Sir."

"Uhuh," Dr. Weir said, unconvinced. She turned back to Carson, who was feeling more than a little uncomfortable by the undercurrents he could feel in the room. "Doctor?"

He answered her. As the leader of the city, she had to know about things like the morale and state of mind of the personnel in Atlantis. Dr. Heitmeyer kept track of specific people, but Dr. Weir would need to know about the more general emotional state on the base. "A couple of the soldiers got into a fight," he explained. "They needed a little patching, but nothing serious."

Frankly, the marines probably hadn't needed any assistance at all. Not every scratch or bruise required medical attention, and food wasn't the only set of supplies running low in Atlantis.

"A fight? Over what?"

It didn't look like either Sheppard or Bates was going to answer her, so Carson spoke up. "Apparently over a woman."

Dr. Weir blinked, surprised. She looked from the Major to the Sergeant, brows raised in disbelief. "Over a woman?"

"I didn't get the particulars," Sheppard said.

"I didn't either," Bates added.

"I see," she said, clearly exasperated. "I trust that this isn't going to happen again?"

"No, ma'am," said Sergeant Bates immediately, and glanced at Sheppard, who grimaced faintly.

"It's being dealt with," he said.

"Be sure that it is," Dr. Weir said, clearly dismissing the two men.

Major Sheppard glanced back over his shoulder as he left, as though waiting for her to call him back. Surprisingly, she didn't. But once they were gone, Carson allowed himself a faint sigh of relief.

"Not what you expected when you set out with this expedition?" Her smile was warm.

"No. But then there were a lot of things I didn't expect when I set out with this expedition," he said. "They told me I should read Dr. Fraiser's notes on her time at the SGC. I didn't realise just how necessary they would be."

Dr. Weir nodded, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. "Has this happened before?"

"Fighting among the soldiers?" He shook his head. "Not that I've heard - although it might just be that this is the first time they've brought their injuries to me." Curiosity compelled him to ask, "Why do you ask?"

She was staring at the door through which the other men had left. "No particular reason," she said, standing up and stretching a little. "Just...noticing something."

Carson debated a moment, wondering if he should ask what she'd noticed. Dr. Weir made the question moot by asking, "Have you seen anything...unusual...about behaviour around the base?"

"Other than fist fights at midnight?"

She had a lovely smile. "Other than fist fights at midnight."

He considered the question. "Well, one of my assistants was saying something about her love life taking a turn for the better. To tell you the truth, I didn't really listen much to what she was saying." In fact, it was rather odd that he remembered it at all.

Dr. Weir nodded, almost to herself. "It seems that several people's love lives have taken a turn for the better," she remarked.

"Yours?" It probably wasn't exactly polite to ask, but past midnight allowed for some mischievousness. At least, Carson hoped it did.

She laughed, proving him right. "No," she denied. "Not mine. But...Kate was telling me that several romances seem to be blossoming among personnel. As well as some not-so-welcome advances."

Carson grimaced. He'd seen indications of a few of them as well, sad though it was. "Have you considered that it might be a kind of...spring fever?"

"I hadn't. And it is the right season, I suppose." But something in her expression indicated hesitation.

"You're concerned about this?"

A shadow flickered across her face. "I just have a feeling about this, Carson."

"Something rotten in the state of Atlantis?" He ventured.

"Not quite."

Not yet.

Carson could hear what she wasn't yet willing to voice. "If I see anything to give concern, you'll be the first to know, Dr. Weir."

Once again, a smile grew on her lips. "I should hope so, Dr. Beckett," she said in a teasing tone of voice. However, a moment later, she sobered. "I'd also appreciate knowing if there are any...breaches of conduct among the personnel in your section. These things are usually handled by the section leaders, but given a few things lately, I want to know if we're looking at a pattern here."

"Like marines fighting over women?"

"Especially like that," she said, and there was no trace of humour in her voice.

"I can call them back in for some hormone testing tomorrow morning if you think it's necessary."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Do that," she said. "If it's a spring fever, then we can do things to alleviate it - send people out in groups for a day of rest and relaxation."

"We don't seem to have too many of them around here."

Dr. Weir smiled. "No, we don't. Life seems to have a habit of getting a bit much for us, doesn't it?"

There was a moment when she looked exhausted, as though she'd kept the weariness of leadership at bay, but now, briefly allowed it to settle upon her. Or maybe that was just Carson's imagination.

After a moment, he ventured, "Is everything well, Doctor? I mean you look a little peaky..."

Blue eyes fixed on him with surprise. "I'm fine, Carson. Just a little tired."

"I can give you some sleeping tablets if you've been having trouble--" Dr. Weir did a lot for the expedition, keeping track of all the bits and pieces of the city and the people in it. She did a bang-up job, and Carson could only admire her resilience.

A quick shake of the head negated that. "No, thank you. I'm not having trouble sleeping, I was still up." Her smile was faintly rueful, "I went to ask Rodney a question and ended up listening to him explain his latest theory on the use of diverse power sources to fuel the city's shields."

"I'm surprised you're awake enough to even talk to me," he said, surprised. "Some of Rodney's lectures would work as the cure-all for insomnia."

She laughed briefly as she levered herself to her feet. "He does tend to ramble a little."

"Nothing that man does is ever a little," Carson said feelingly. There was no doubting Rodney McKay had his brilliance; however the universe had compensated by leaving out tact, thoughtfulness, or modesty from the scientist's personality. "The amount of fuss he made over the testing procedures for the food brought back from Tabaasa..."

Dr. Weir smiled. "Do you have the initial results yet?"

"Everything's clear so far," he affirmed. "There'll be more detailed findings available tomorrow, but it looks as though it's all edible."

"Nothing that might react to any of the allergies on the base?"

"None that we could determine. There are one or two foods that certain allergenic groups might have to watch out for, but most people shouldn't have any trouble with them at all."

"That's good news," Elizabeth said, pleased. "I'm surprised there aren't more things we'd have to watch out for."

There was an easy explanation for that, and she'd phrased the statement to suggest a question. "Well, the Tabaasi culture hasn't done any genetic modifications to their food. As a result, the compounds in their food are less likely to react badly with our standard Earth allergies. Of course," he added, "thousands of years of evolution may mean that we develop reactions to other compounds, but that's not something we can predict."

She nodded and stood up, preparing to leave. "Good work, Dr. Beckett."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir."

Elizabeth's smile grew deeper. "Good night, Carson."

"Good night, Elizabeth."

oOo

Nobody would ever have described Rodney McKay as the most sensitive of people, including Rodney himself.

But there was definitely something going on in Atlantis.

Elizabeth had come to see him last night and asked him something about keeping an eye on his staff. Why she'd asked him, he didn't know, but he vaguely remembered she'd spoken about section leaders and responsibilities to people. It didn't seem important when she'd been talking about it - certainly not as important as the work he was doing on the shield generators.

Of course, it gained a little more importance when one of the research assistants burst into tears while working on some very delicate calculations. In between sobs, gulps, and glasses of water, she mumbled something about harassment, and was sent to lie down for a bit.

It was a little irritating to have the quiet concentration of his morning so rudely interrupted, but Kirin was quite distraught, and one of the more level-headed scientists in the project - some of the younger women had a tendency to startle. Rodney considered Kirin one of the best workers in the lab. Of course, she was nowhere near his level of competence, but she did a more-than-adequate job, and only occasionally merited his criticism.

It wasn't unusual for people to lose it under pressure. Rodney had never done so, but then, he had unusual focus and dedication to his job and a fine sense of his responsibilities to the expedition. And Kirin was nearly hysterical as he patted her shoulder and told her to take a rest.

He didn't think anything of it until he glanced up from his work and caught one of the older, female scientists staring at him. "What?"

Nobody would ever describe Patricia Kelmar as the most tactful of people. Today was no different. "Are you sick, McKay?"

That was one he hadn't expected. "Of course I'm sick," he frowned. "That's why I'm standing here, doing my work."

Dr. Kelmar snorted. "A week ago, you'd have told her to get over it and get on with her work."

"I..." He paused. That did sound more like what he'd have done a week ago. "Sometimes, we have to make allowances for the less dedicated among us."

Someone deeper in the lab muttered something that he carefully didn't hear. Yes, Rodney was aware that he was occasionally the butt of jokes about arrogance and self-absorbedness, but he consoled himself with the thought that genius always had its detractors. Besides, they were very much aware of what he did for the expedition - and were probably jealous, too.

Patricia kept giving him odd looks, though, until he paused in his typing and glared at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she dismissed.

"Well, it's obviously something since I seem to have suddenly developed into a great interest for you," he snapped. "Do you want to get it out of the way now or just irritate me for the rest of the day?"

She raised her brows at him. "This morning, Dr. Reznick walked into the mess hall and I'd swear every man in the room sat up a little straighter."

Rodney blinked. Beth Reznick was small, curvaceous, blonde and bubbly. She was also a viral immunologist and a lesbian. "Well, I have to say, that's quite understandable, Dr. Reznick is very--"

"Cavanaugh brought Denise Wilcox her morning herbal tea, just the way she likes it."

Reminded of another cup of beverage he'd recently offered Elizabeth, Rodney began, "Maybe he just happened to--"

"And Sergeant Bates smiled at Teyla when she walked past him this morning in the corridor."

Okay. That was odd. In spite of any and all reassurances on the part of Teyla or her team-mates, Bates didn't trust Teyla any further than he could throw her. Smiling was definitely out.

Still. "Is there a point to this litany, or are you just avoiding your work?"

Patricia's smile was thin. "The guys in Atlantis are acting weird."

"Weird," Rodney scoffed. "Tell me, is that a scientific term, Dr. Kelmar, or just a convenient one?"

She shrugged and looked beyond him at one of the lab assistants, whose eyes were nearly as big as her glasses. "You've noticed it, haven't you, Huei?"

"I..." The girl rarely found her voice around Rodney, although she could sometimes be quite helpful. "I..."

Patricia rolled her eyes. "You haven't snapped at her - or me - half as much as you usually do. And I saw you taking coffee up to Dr. Weir the other morning." She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and smirked at him.

Rodney immediately went on the defensive. "For your information..." He paused. "For your information, Dr. Weir is under a great deal of stress."

The woman looked around the lab at the half-dozen people surreptitiously listening in on the conversation. "Hands up all the people to whom Dr. McKay has taken a cup of his oh-so-precious coffee when they're under a great deal of stress?"

See, this was exactly the reason why he didn't usually work with Patricia Kelmar.

"As if that means anything," he protested when the other people around the lab started to shift in a way that made him nervous. He had a reputation to keep. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to say, but a cup of coffee proves nothing. It was a...a convenient gesture."

"Proves nothing, maybe," Patricia said. "But it lends credence to my theory that something's happening to the guys in Atlantis."

"Credence is a dime a dozen, Kelmar."

"Yes, and Cavanaugh's a self-absorbed prick, Bates still eyes Teyla like he's expecting her to break out the life-sucking appendages, and coffee is rare in the city and getting rarer by the day," Patricia said. "This is not normal behaviour, McKay. Even from you." She paused, more for dramatic effect than thought. "Especially from you."

"That," he said, "is an insane theory. You've taken a series of completely unconnected events and developed some insane theory about them. There's absolutely no correlation between any of those behaviours. At all."

She wasn't looking at him anymore. She was looking past him to the door, and Rodney turned around with a sense of foreboding.

Nobody would ever have described Carson Beckett as the harbinger of doom. Especially not looking as he did: just a little harried and more than a little apologetic as he regarded Rodney.

"What is it?" Rodney snapped, with the uncomfortable feeling that he was about to be contradicted.

Carson hesitated. "I think Dr. Kelmar may be right," he said.

oOo

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