The Puppet Master

Chapter Seven - Trained Chimps

Elizabeth rarely closed her office door. Sheppard guessed it was a conscious decision, a deliberate attempt to appear open and available to any concerns a person might bring to her. He'd told her that she

didn't need to make the effort, and though she'd smiled and thanked him, she still left the door open.

Then he'd startled her one day, found her sat at her desk with her eyes closed. She said she'd been listening, that from her desk she could hear all the sounds from the control room and the gate below. She knew when a team was returning before Grodin called her, and she was always ready to stand at the steps to watch them depart. She knew when there was panic, and when there was peace, and said it was more soothing than any comm call or paper report.

That afternoon the door was closed, and he could see the shape of another figure behind the mottled glass. The rooms were roughly soundproofed, and he could hear little more than quiet, indistinct mumbles.

Peter was sat at his console, clearly distracted, running the same scan over and over and paying no attention to the results. He looked up at Sheppard and frowned.

"Is it urgent? Because she's been in there a while."

Sheppard shrugged. "You tell me."

"Ah." Peter glanced at his screen. "Must be about the mission."

"Probably. Who's in with her?" he asked, casually.

"Dr Heightmeyer." A frown creased the Englishman's forehead. "She's a few days early this month."

"Early?"

Grodin looked up at him. "Every month Dr Weir is given a rundown of all the assessments Heightmeyer makes."

"Oh." He nodded. Common practice at the SGC, so he'd been told, and something he would have to become accustomed to. Knew that the details were kept vague, the exercise only serving to alert the commanding office of any potential problems, but he had still bristled at the idea and only attended his own meetings with Kate because he liked the woman, and felt a perverted sense of obligation.

Talking of which…

The two women lingered in the doorway for several moments after it had opened. Heightmeyer kept her voice low, but the words: "I'll keep you informed," carried to where Sheppard perched on the end of Grodin's computer bank. As he watched, aware of his gaze being mirrored by Peter, Kate nodded her leave of Elizabeth then dropped down the stairs out of the control room. She gave both men a brief glance and a smile, but Sheppard's attention was already back on Weir's office.

"Come in, Major."

She led him into the room, took a seat behind her desk and indicated he take the one opposite. Glanced down at the papers on the table surface, then back up at him with a look of calm control. "Could you shut the door?"

"Sure." And whilst looking at Elizabeth he directed a thought at the city, heard the doors swish quietly closed a second later. Waited for another to pass before asking: "What's wrong?"

She sighed, control slipping to reveal worry, small stress lines beside her eyes, threatening to overcome the laughter lines. "Have you noticed anything wrong with Rodney recently?"

A wince. He should have guessed the purpose behind the summons. If McKay was acting odd with him then the science department must have been really suffering, and there were members who wouldn't take the scientist's mood swings with the same relative patience as his team mates. But Kate's appearance was a surprise.

"Is that what Dr Heightmeyer was talking to you about?"

"Amongst other things," she said carefully. "Does that surprise you?"

Not for the reasons you think, he thought ruefully. Had always found McKay to be as talented as he was in deceiving the doctor. His like for Kate as a person did not stop him from remembering what her job was, and McKay always kept his personal space fortified with an electric fence. His friends were those allowed to come within sight distance.

"Look," he shrugged, "I know he's been a little off-kilter recently, but it's McKay. 'Out there' is a permanent state of mind."

She sighed softly. "I realize that. Rodney doesn't do much to endear himself to his colleagues. He works long hours –"

"He's not the only one," Sheppard interrupted, pointedly.

"I know." Elizabeth leant back in her chair, her expression troubled. "I've checked the schedules of the science department. He's been working almost twice his usual hours since –"

"Since the nanovirus," he finished. "They're short staffed. And you know what he's like. Thinks the city will fall apart if he doesn't oversee every job."

"The phrase 'trained chimps' springs to mind," she said, dryly.

"It's one of his favorites."

She smiled, but faltered after a moment. "Recent losses have meant we've all been pulling long nights and double shifts. It's not a situation I'm happy with but I realize there is little choice if we want to achieve even half of what we could accomplish here. But when that work ethic starts to affect a person's emotional wellbeing I have to be concerned. Aside from being a friend, Rodney is also head of the science department. I need to know he's…" She paused, lost for words.

"Surviving?" Sheppard asked, thinking of his own history.

"More than that." She steepled her fingers and looked across at him. "I can't send anyone off-world if they aren't reacting to situations in a rational manner."

Another wince, as he thought back to the argument in the corridor. To his friend's knee-jerk reaction to a friendly pat on the arm. Of the bedroom, torn apart, and the unexplained absences. "I'm a little worried," he admitted, reluctantly. "The man can't relax."

She looked away from him for a second, and he saw a flicker in her eyes. Something she knew, something she wasn't about to share. He grimaced, and continued.

"He's been a bit snappier than normal. But like you said, he's over worked. I don't blame him."

"He's been forgetting things," she said. "He was late to the briefing."

"Not for the first time," he pointed out. "McKay gets distracted. Give him an alien device and he's like a kid with a new toy."

She smiled again, but it still seemed no more colorful than the first. "It's getting worse, Major. I can put a few instances down to distraction but he was almost twenty minutes late last time. Even when he was here he barely said a word."

"I know," he admitted. "For McKay that's near paranormal."

"When was the last time you saw him out of work, John?"

He looked up, surprised. "A couple of days ago. In the mess hall."

"And before that?" She gave another sigh. "Dr Heightmeyer believes Rodney is reacting badly to recent events."

"Gee, I wonder why," he drawled, and immediately hated himself. "McKay can cope."

"He's been pulling away from everything," she continued, though he caught a glimpse of guilt beneath the mask. "He's not sleeping. He's increasingly distracted. I've received several complaints from his coworkers that he's been forgetting things, blaming his mistakes on others."

"You can't listen to Kavanagh," he rejoined immediately, but she was already shaking her head.

"I know there's tension between them and if it were just him I'd be inclined to agree, but it isn't. Dr Zelenka assures me everything is fine but I suspect he's bending the truth to protect Rodney."

"Zelenka's been working the same hours," he pointed out.

"And that may be another reason for him to be compensating for any failings by Rodney. But he isn't…" And she stopped.

"Falling apart," he challenged. And again hated himself.

Her eye shot up to meet his, dark and troubled. "I can't let him go off world, John. Not like this."

"You can't ground him," he returned. "He needs some sleep. We all do. But grounding him –"

"I know," she interrupted, quietly. "Which is why I'm open to suggestions."

He thought for a moment, plunged in with: "Make something up. Some lie. Ground the entire team. It's a run of the mill mission, you can send Bates' team in our place."

"What would you suggest?"

He waved vaguely at her. "That's more your department than mine, Elizabeth. Just keep us in Atlantis for a couple of days. I'll talk to him." Though he wasn't quite sure what about, and whether he'd be allowed in the same room as McKay after their last conversation.

Her lips thinned, fingers threading and unthreading their grip. "He needs to sleep."

"If I have to tie him to the bed."

"And I want him to see Kate."

"Already done," he replied, with a confidence he didn't feel.

"John…" And she stopped, took a breath, and started again. "Before I took command of the SGC I was warned that the military mind thinks differently to that of a civilian. General O'Neill told me the same, but he admitted that people still surprise him." Another pause. "Atlantis is a unique situation, Major."

He blinked in surprise. "You think because McKay's a civilian he can't cope?"

Elizabeth lifted her head to look at him, a sad look in her eyes. "You've lost people under your command before, John. Rodney hasn't."

He flinched, managed to nod, though his shoulders and back muscles tensed at the comment. "Just a couple of days," he repeated.

"I can give you that."

He rose from his chair, awkward in the silence. Opened the doors and was heading to them when she called after him.

"Major. For what it's worth – I'd like to believe you're right."

He looked back at her and offered a fake, forced smile of his own. "Just wait."