Title: Missing PersonAuthor: La
Rating: Teen , for implications towards the end
Pairings: Kavanagh/Weir, with a hint of Zelenka/Weir and an even fainter hint of Shep/Weir
Summary: When Kavanagh goes missing, the hunt is on.
Spoilers: Just the existence of Atlantis and of the characters.
Author's Note: Please please please DO NOT take this seriously. This is meant entirely tongue-in-cheek. This story is dedicated to the psychos... uh, sickos... I mean, nice people at the Kavanagh/Weir thread on GW. This was written back in December 2005, but I was horrified I'd written it, so I didn't post it here. Don't know why I'm doing so now... Feedback and constructive criticism welcome.

Also, if anyone out there is waiting for an update on Family Matters, I apologize. I've hit the world's biggest patch of writer's block, and it doesn't appear like I'm going to break through it any time soon.

Disclaimer: Nothing related to Stargate: Atlantis belongs to me. I'm just playing.

It was a sign of the near universal dislike for Kavanagh felt by the residents of Atlantis that he was missing for nearly a week before anyone commented.

The scientists hadn't really noticed his absence, aside from the fact that lately Rodney McKay hadn't needed to worry about Kavanagh borrowing his computer. It wasn't until Radek Zelenka had come to McKay with a necessary, simple, but tediously long calculation that needed to be performed that they began to realize the problem.

"Give it to Kavanagh. I'm busy with these recalibrations."

"I planned to," Zelenka replied. "But I can't find him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

McKay looked up in disbelief. "You think I keep tabs on people like him?"

So Zelenka moved on to the rest of the staff of the lab. He tried the mess, he tried the control room, the lounges, Kavanagh's quarters... even the Jumper bay, where Kavanagh had been making noises about experimenting on one of the Jumpers before Dr. Weir forbid him to do it.

He'd been looking for his fellow scientist for two hours now, and was beginning to get concerned. He might not particularly like the man, but he didn't wish him ill. Making a decision, he approached Dr. Weir.

"Dr. Zelenka," she said, smiling as she looked up from her desk. "What can I do for you?"

Smile again, he thought, feeling that same little thrill he always felt in her presence. Not for the first time, he envied John Sheppard and his seemingly unbreakable connection to their city leader. But no, he was here for other things. "Have you perhaps seen Dr. Kavanagh anywhere? I was looking for him to give him some calculations to do."

A strange look came into Dr. Weir's eyes, but was gone so quickly Zelenka questioned whether he'd even seen it. "No, I haven't. Have you tried the lab or his quarters?"

"Yes, everywhere I could think of. No one's seen him. In fact, it seems as if no one has seen him for nearly a week."

Again that look, although it stayed long enough this time that Zelenka thought he could identify it as... amusement?

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Should you perhaps go on city-wide and see if you can get him to respond? It's possible he's just been working in an unused part of the city." Some feeling in the pit of his stomach told Zelenka that this wasn't the case, but they had to try.

"Yes, of course. And if that doesn't work, I suppose we'll have to start a manhunt."

They got no response to the city-wide broadcast, so an hour later three search teams had been formed. Dr. Weir had ordered that the records of transporter movement for the last week be accessed, so they could see if there had been any movement in the outlying parts of the city. The teams searched for long hours, canvassing all the places Zelenka had tried as well as several other areas.

The worry was taking its toll on Dr. Weir, Zelenka observed as the day drew on. He could see her eyes were tired, and bags were starting to form under them. She also seemed to be experiencing the mood swings brought on by exhaustion. One moment her face was full of concern, the next amusement (although there was an almost cruel turn to that expression that worried Zelenka). As night settled over the city, he stood with several others in her office to hear the results of the search.

"We couldn't find any trace of him, ma'am," one of the soldiers informed her. "We'll continue to look, of course, but we're running out of ideas about where to go."

"Do you think he might have accidentally started up some bit of technology that's done something to him?" Dr. Weir asked.

"It's possible," McKay replied. "We still don't know what everything does here."

"I hate to say this," John Sheppard spoke up, "but what if someone did something too him?"

There! Zelenka saw it again. The expression of cruel amusement slipped over Dr. Weir's features again, briefly, and then was gone. The poor woman must be completely exhausted. Glancing at Sheppard, Zelenka realized he'd seen it too.

"Hey," Sheppard's voice was soft and gentle. He put a hand to Dr. Weir's shoulder. "It's late, and we aren't getting anywhere tonight. We'll pick the search up again in the morning. You should get some rest."

Dr. Weir nodded. "You're right. We're all exhausted." To the rest of the room, she added, "Thank you for your help today. Get some sleep, and we'll start looking again tomorrow."

Recognizing the dismissal, they all filed out. Glancing back over his shoulder, Zelenka watched as Dr. Weir gathered up her jacket and got ready to leave for her quarters. She really must have been tired – just look at the anticipation in her eyes at the thought of leaving the office.

Elizabeth Weir sighed as she entered her quarters. So. It had finally happened. To be honest, she had thought it would be longer in coming, but then Dr. Zelenka had always seemed to be a little bit of an overachiever.

She was exhausted, and no wonder. A diplomat by training, she was used to schooling her face to be expressionless, but today seemed to have taken extra effort. She knew she'd slipped a time or two – especially at the end, when John suggested she head to her quarters for some rest. Not that she objected to coming here, she thought, looking around.

Being leader of Atlantis had its perks, among them the quarters she'd assigned to herself. Normally she tried not to be too selfish, but when she saw these rooms, she just had to have them. It was more or less a suite, complete with sitting room and separate bedroom, and, although she hadn't anticipated this when she'd chosen the rooms, it served her current needs perfectly.

"I'm back," she said, stripping off her jacket and tossing it on a chair. "And it's happened. They finally noticed you were missing."

As she spoke she moved to her bedroom and opened the closet, pushing aside the uniforms to pull out a locked wooden box. "So that means we've only got one more night, Kavy, my pet. One more night before I have to let you go." Turning, she smiled at the man handcuffed to her bed, a silken gag in his mouth. She unlocked the box and spilled its contents on the floor. Running a finger fondly along the length of the whip, she asked, "What should we do tonight?"

Zelenka was shocked, relieved, and curious all at the same time when he saw Kavanagh sitting in the lab the next morning. Shocked, because he hadn't been expecting to see the man, relieved because at least Kavanagh was okay, and curious as to where he'd been, and why he had faint bruise marks on his wrists.

But despite Zelenka's best efforts, and the efforts of everyone around him, Kavanagh would not speak about where he'd been for the past week. He still disappeared occasionally, though never for as long, always reappearing three or four days later in the lab. Soon, people stopped asking about it, and just came to accept it as another strange quirk of the disagreeable scientist.

And if anyone noticed that the mornings when Kavanagh reappeared, a very happy and satisfied grin usually graced the face of Dr. Weir, no one dared to comment.