Written for severusslave on wraithbunnies.

Disclaimer: I doubt the people who own this have enough time to read fanfic. But if they do (and want a vacation; weather's nice down here this time of year) I own Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate: SG1, Dropkick Murpheys, My Chemical Romance,the Clash, the Cure, Skindred, Treed Murray, October Sky, the African Queen, Casablanca, and Kavanagh. (though I claimed him so he may be mine.) I really own Jenna, Sarge, the maybe-French doctor, and the SGC Documentary Corps. Feel free to borrow any of them. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.


Jenna knew something bad was going to happen as soon as Kavanagh told his assistant that he knew what he was doing and she was an over glorified toy. Sarge might not speak much English, but she knew her stuff when it came to explosions. If she was freaking out, everybody else should probably be freaking too. Jenna was getting ready to follow the soldier out of the room when whatever it was exploded in Kavanagh's face. And threw Jenna out the door, into the hall, and through the glass door on the other side onto the balcony. She was lucky she didn't fly over the railing, but she didn't know it at the time. That's because she was unconscious.

When Jenna woke it was to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling; it was nondescript and boring. If she had been on Earth, the photographer would never have known where she was. However, all the ceilings in Atlantis were beautiful with amazingly coloured panels, except one. Jenna actually felt really good considering she was in the infirmary.

As a S.I. hat and a certainly civilian pair of glasses moved into view, the photographer/scientist realised that Sarge had obviously come with her. Before Jenna could open her mouth, the soldier had spun on her heel and headed off across the infirmary returning with Dr. Beckett a few seconds later.

"Morning, lass," the Scot said as he shined the universe's brightest flashlight in her eyes. "How're you doin'?" Without waiting for a response, he continued with his babble. "I'm surprised; you fared extremely well." Jenna could just see Sarge making her escape behind the doc. Traitor. Weren't Marines supposed to never leave people behind? "Neither one of you is hurt, which is amazing. You were thrown throw a glass door. I'm guessing you don't have the gene since it didn't open..." Beckett continued to drone on excitedly about all the things that should've been wrong with her while Jenna frowned up at him. She did have the gene. That's why she was the photographer the SGC Documentary Corps sent. A few moments later, a loud crash and a muffled curse broke both doctor and patient out of their thoughts.

Kavanagh appeared from behind a privacy curtain. He was wearing a pair of white scrub pants and his glasses. His dark hair hung loose around his face and though, at the moment, Jenna hated him more than she thought possible to hate any one person, she couldn't keep her eyes off his bare chest.

The chemist was pasty as hell, but that was to be expected since he never left the labs. If Jenna was in charge, every last one of the geeks would be dragged to a beach on the mainland and left there for at least three hours every week. Probably a good thing Jenna wasn't in charge. Her eyes roved over the man's chest and she decided lab work must have done some good.

Kavanagh was no where near as muscular as the Marines (if she was being honest, he probably wasn't as muscular as Sarge), but he was lightly toned. That was something Jenna appreciated. She liked the lean look better. For some reason, she had always felt more comfortable when a man had a certain amount of give to him. The photographer was appraising the man with her professional eye, making sure to record as much as she could for wet dreams later on, when he destroyed the illusion.

"You say I'm fine. The nurse says I'm fine. I say I'm fine. Now, give me back my clothes so I can get back to my labs and figure out what the hell happened and why I'm fine." The nasal voice and his utter lack of concern about her destroyed any hope she had that he was a normal human. Jenna decided it was brief insanity brought on by forced chastity.

"Now, Kavanagh," Beckett said leaving Jenna's bed and walking toward the irate chemist, "both of you were unconscious and we don't know why. And we don't know why you both aren't dead. So you have to stay here." Then Beckett the did the bravest thing anyone had ever done; he put his hand on Kavanagh shoulder and turned the other man around. It was then that Jenna did the most stupid thing anyone had ever done.

At first, the brightly coloured splotch on Kavanagh's left shoulder blade just stood out against his pasty skin. But Jenna was curious by nature, and more importantly an artist. She leaned forward to see what it was of, but couldn't make it out at that distance. The tattoo was what started the photographer's single-minded obsession with William Kavanagh.

WKWKWKWKWKWKWK

Two days later, both scientists were let out of the infirmary. The doctors and nurses had decided it was something in Kavanagh's formula that has caused the miracle by which both were still breathing. However, the whiny chemist didn't remember what exactly he had put in the beaker in the first place and Sarge wasn't talking, though that may have been due to the lack of English. Regardless, it probably wasn't worth using since it had reduced Jenna's gene to the level of the lab mice. (Somebody was watching out for her, though, since it was almost back to normal.) Both scientists immediately returned to the scene of the explosion.

As Jenna took pictures of the aftermath, she couldn't help but notice that she took more pictures of McKay ripping Kavanagh a new one than was strictly necessary. She blamed it on temporary insanity.

Two days after they were released, Jenna sat in her "office" scrolling through the contents of her laptop. Miko was a brilliant computer programmer which easily translated into a genius computer hacker. All Jenna had to do was give her that picture from two weeks ago. It was a close up of McKay in what the science staff liked to call "the McNip exploiting shirt." The photographer had lamented the loss of the pic, but it was worth it for what she got in return: the entire contents of Kavanagh's computer.

Chemistry reports and diary entries (most of which were whinging about how nobody appreciated him) made up most of what was up there. However, there were a few movie and music files. Jenna was having fun with that. If anyone had told her last week that she and Kavanagh had anything in common, she would've thrown that person over the 'Gatrium railing, laughing the entire time. If that same person had survived the fall and told her Kavanagh liked the Dropkick Murpheys and My Chemical Romance, Jenna would've sent that person to Heightmeyer. But here it was right in front of her face. The Clash, the Cure, Skindred, and several bands she'd never even heard of; all of them were definitely alternative and not what she expected from Kavanagh.

The movies were even more awe inducing. Something she'd never seen before called Treed Murray involving gangs and a guy who looked too much like McKay for comfort. Wormhole Extreme: the movie. October Sky which had convinced her to build a rocket in her backyard. It had promptly blown up. According to the diary, the same thing had happened to Kavanagh. What had really surprised the scientist were the war movies. It seemed like he had tried to get every one ever made squeezed onto his hard drive.

Sarge told her (in her own little way) that Jenna was becoming too stalkerish for her own good. Jenna admitted later that she never would've punched the smaller woman if she had just erased Kavanagh's stuff and not everything on the computer. The resulting infirmary stay probably did Jenna some good anyway.

WKWKWKWKWKWKWK

Probably dumping some unidentified chemical on Kavanagh was a bad idea, but Jenna was obsessed to the point that she was considering calling in every favour. Sarge told her that was a bad idea (she refused to hold him down and strip him...or she didn't understand what was going on) so the photographer did the only other thing she could think of. Which was why she was escorting Kavanagh into the infirmary. Beckett was nowhere in sight and the doctor who escorted him to the examining room motioned for the photographer to follow.

"Wat 'appened?" The photographer decided it was a French accent as she opened her mouth to talk. But Mr. Whingy McSnark beat her to it.

"The bitch poured something purple and glowing on me!" Before Jenna could retort, the doctor was talking.

"Uh huh. Are you sure she didn't slip?" Not waiting for a response, he turned to her. "Help him remove his shirt, please." And with that he was gone. Jenna turned wide-eyed to Kavanagh.

"Well, you heard the man!" he snapped before snapping his fingers the same way McKay does at Dr. Zelenka. Jenna smirked at that a little as she moved to help him remove the soaking wet, glowing, purple-stained, and most likely radioactive shirt. And if her hands lingered a little, she didn't notice it.

The photographer discretely checked the chemist out as she moved back away from him. Kavanagh was mumbling extraordinarily uncomplimentary things about her under his breath. And Jenna didn't really care, because she'd realised something with the snap thing. Kavanagh was McKay. The only difference was he didn't have the authority to be mean to everybody as much as he wanted. And McKay was probably meaner. And...the point is that Kavanagh is currently treating her the way McKay treats Dr. Zelenka. Which is a great thing. If she can deal with snark 24/7.

The doctor moved back in and examined Kavanagh quickly and with a lot of French mutterings. "From what I can tell, you are fine. I do want to keep you overnight just in case." He handed a pair of scrubs to Jenna. "Help him get changed." and he left once again. The scientists turned at stared at each other eyes anime wide.

"What the frak?" Jenna just shrugged as she went to help the chemist stand up. She handed him the scrub bottoms and turned around. "Okay." As she went to help him sit back down, she took the opportunity to study the tattoo.

It was a weird symbol that she vaguely remembered from chemistry. And it took all of Jenna's willpower not to reach out and trace it. Kavanagh turned his head suddenly and noticed her staring at it.

"Yes, I have a tattoo," the chemist said turning to face the photographer. "Yes, it's a molecule. The chemical structure of tequila, if you must know." Jenna opened her mouth to ask why and he answered before she asked, "A man takes a drop too much every once in a while. It's human nature."

"'Nature,' Dr. Kavanagh, is what we are here to rise above," Jenna said as she marveled that she got a word in edgewise. He stared at her before taking the scrub top from her.

"You know, Louis, I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


-"A man takes a drop too much every once in a while, it's human nature."
-"'Nature,' Mr. Allnut, is what we are here to rise above." is from the movie The African Queen.

"You know, Louie, I think this is going to be the beginning on a beautiful friendship." is from the movie Casablanca.

Any concrit is welcomed. (As is raving. or "this is good" or anything.)