The Strange Encounters of Rodney McKay
by Soledad
Author's Note:
You know this one had to come, right?
Spoilers: Hot Zone, The Siege and Intruder (SGA), as well as Reckoning 1-2, Threads and Moebius 1-2 (SG-1). Really mild ones only.
Chapter 08 – Carter
His reunion with Carter was different than expected. The underlying attraction was still there, in a way, but they had both changed during the recent year. Rodney more than Carter, truth be told. He was more mature now, for he had learned what loss truly meant – something that Carter had known for quite some time. But for Rodney, losing people who were close to him – as close as he was able to let him – was a new experience, one that had sobered him considerably.
The memory of all those who had died within that short year still haunted his dreams. Sumner and Markham and the Marine named Smith whose face he couldn't even remember. The ones killed by the nanovirus with a speed and brutality barely imaginable… that was even harder, for the victims had belonged to his department, he's worked with him day after day. Forty-odd people, both humans and Athosians, killed during the siege of Atlantis. Ford, who was lost and crazy from Wraith hormones circulating in his body. And, of course, Peter Grodin.
How could he ever forget Peter Grodin?
He didn't forget the names of his co-workers anymore. He kept misspelling Zelenka's name intentionally, just to rile up the little Czech, although he knew that Radek had long seen through his pretence. But the bickering about it gave them a sense of normality. AS if everything would be all right… while in truth nothing was.
They hadn't beaten the Wraith – they had just fooled them. And that wasn't a safe – or even permanent – solution. Everyone knew that. They just chose not to speak about it.
It felt good to speak about those things by dinner with Carter, though. She listened to him with genuine interest – a definite first – but her eyes were full of sorrow, more so than the last time. So he gathered his courage and asked her what was wrong. She was startled at first, but seeing that he meant it, she decided to give him an honest answer.
This vas the very first time that she spoke about personal things with him.
It seemed that the recent year hadn't been a good one for Earth, either. The only difference was that most of its inhabitants had no idea of the threat hanging above their heads. Or endangered them from within, which was even worse. At least they could be certain about their own people in Atlantis. The enemy had long, white hair, bad teeth and the straightforward goal to suck the life out of you. Nothing more, nothing less
Carter told him about the Trust, about the desperate struggle to save the Asgard from the Replicators, about Anubis' near-miss to destroy Earth (again), about Dr. Jackson dying and returning from death (again), about the time-travel in a weird puddle-jumper, a travel that enabled them to find a fully functional ZPM in Egypt. At least the latest thing was something vaguely related to Atlantis, so Rodney could make some half-hearted comments.
But she also spoke of the death of her father, who had been given four additional years as a Tok'ra, against all hope. And about her short-lived relationship to a detective named Pete Shanahan, who was a good man but could not keep up with the sort of life she led.
Rodney was not surprised that she'd tried the regular thing. The meet a nice man, fall in love, get engaged, buy a house sort of thing. Deep down many women wanted those things, even the ones who should be beyond such mundane urges. Especially those. Being exceptional was painful sometimes. No one understood that better than Rodney McKay, certifiable genius and smartest man of the Pegasus galaxy. Or both galaxies, most likely.
However, he wasn't surprised either, that her attempts to live a so-called normal life failed. She was larger than life, she was born to achieve great things, and no nice, normal man could live with that. It was a strange twist of fate that while the majority of intelligent men was completely content to live with stupid cows, as long as they were pretty enough, smart women were reluctant to live with men of inferior intellect. That predestined the smartest women to a lonely life, as men generally disliked women who had more brains than they had.
Rodney suspected, though, that the level of education had not been the problem between Carter and her now ex-boyfriend. Rather the fact that she wasn't really free to choose a partner because she'd been bonded with her team-mates for seven years already. That was a closeness for which there was no substitute. And while that detective might not have a problem with Carter's brains, he probably wasn't willing to share her attention with three other men who already had a long history with her.
Perhaps Pete whatshisname knew he would always come second after her team. That wasn't the best basis for a permanent relationship. No man had so much understanding.
It didn't surprise him, either, that she invited him over to her house after everything had been told and discussed. It seemed… natural somehow, an inevitable consequence of everything that had taken place between them. They had come from being adversaries to being allies, then almost-friends, and now lovers – although he was uncomfortable with the L-word, even in thought, because he knew that what they had was something different, less than that and yet more at the same time.
How could it be any easier? "Complicated" was Rodney McKay's middle name, after all. Everyone who'd met him more than once could testify that.
The only thing he wasn't entirely sure about was Carter's motivation.
"Sam," he said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion; they'd reached first-name-basis hours ago. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"You mean you don't?" she asked back, her eyes dark and serious.
"Well, yes, of course I want it," he cursed his confused feelings that always made a stuttering idiot out of him despite his superior intellect; it was embarrassing, really. "I mean it's great and all, but… I'm not some kind of consolation prize," he added, almost defensively. She smiled at that, a small and understanding smile full of sorrow and loneliness.
"I don't consider you as a consolation prize," she said.
"So what is this about then?" he asked, still a little unsure.
"About comfort," she replied bluntly. "I don't want to be alone tonight – do you?"
"No," he admitted," but are you sure that I am the one you really want?"
"You are the only one I can ask," she said.
"Because I'll go back to a far-away galaxy in a couple of days so you won't have to face me afterwards?" he asked sarcastically.
"That's part of the reason, yes," she said. "But mostly because you're the only one of my friends who'd understand. Besides, you've always been… interested, haven't you?"
"Of course I have, I'm neither blind nor stupid," he replied, irritated. "I just hoped for… different circumstances."
"We always hope for something else, don't we?" she sighed. "Look, if you'd prefer to return to your hotel, it's all right. I understand. I didn't consider that you might have found someone in the meantime."
"I haven't," he said, and it was true. What he had with Miko had been born out of despair and loneliness and was by no means a regular thing. Or a permanent one. "And I'm not backing off. I've wanted this – wanted you for too long to let this chance pass. Because there won't be another one, will there?"
"Not likely," she admitted.
"Well, then," he said with false brightness. "If this is our only chance, what are we waiting for?"
And so the long-nurtured dream of Rodney McKay came true at last, and it was everything he'd hoped for… and more. And yet when he left Carter's house in the following morning, he felt a strange emptiness, despite his well-loved body, because he knew that every chance he might have had, every hope he might have nurtured, no matter how unconsciously, was now over for good. The physical attraction between them had been satisfied, and they had never been close enough to become true friends.
Nor will they have the chance to build a friendship. She was leaving the Stargate program to build spaceships – a task much better suited her talent and knowledge – and he was needed elsewhere.
If he learned anything during his short visit on Earth it was the fact that he didn't belong here anymore. He'd said his goodbyes to Jeannie, settling a few old conflicts as well as he could. He'd fetched the only living being that had really meant anything to him in the years before Atlantis. She was waiting patiently in her cage to be shipped out into the Pegasus galaxy – cats were truly agreeable creatures. He'd sold his flat and put the few things he possessed into storage.
He'd practically deleted his past on Earth. It was only proper to bury his last dream under the ruins as well.
His future was in the Pegasus galaxy. In the close-knit community of a handful of equally uprooted men and women, fighting vampiric aliens who wanted to eat them, looking desperately for energy sources to keep their ten-thousand-year-old relict of a city up and running. He was needed there, more than anywhere else before. They had a community there, camaraderie, a closeness that had been nearly forgotten on Earth.
For the first time in his life, he was not an outsider. He was part of the team, and people counted on him and watched his back in exchange. Severing his roots to the home planet was the logical thing to do, so that he could fully concentrate on the demanding tasks waiting for him back in Atlantis. That was where he belonged now.
He only hoped that Miko liked cats.