AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love knowing people enjoy reading what I write...
SPOILERS for "Trinity"
SUMMARY: After the events in "Trinity", Sheppard and McKay's relationship is strained at best. But is stranding them in a remote lighthouse with only Zelenka as referee going to help them work things out?
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.
Deus Ex Machina
By KerrAvon
3. Exploration
Ruck slung carelessly over his right shoulder, Sheppard wearily trudged up the stone steps. 'Ye gods. Two full weeks of those two! I'm not sure how much McKay I can stand right now without resorting to lethal force.' With a sigh he reached the first floor landing and pushed the iron-clad door open with a squeeeeek of rusty hinges.
"Guess he wasn't the type to do much building maintenance," he muttered with a grimace as he glanced at the corroded metal. Then his eyes widened as he assimilated the room he'd just entered. "But he did like to read…"
While slightly smaller than the lower chamber, it was nevertheless a single circular room with the stairwell in the center. But the walls! Books stretched in an unbroken line across the outer circumference from floor to ceiling, extending a good ten feet up. A few comfortable chairs and tables were scattered about the room as well, perfectly positioned for lounging and reading.
Turning about in a complete circle, Sheppard mouthed the word "Wow" then headed towards the nearest shelf to examine the titles. Running a finger along the spines, he murmured, "Astronomy…mathematics…parapsychology?" Grasping the last volume, he pulled it out for a closer look.
"Of Ghosts and the Supernatural," he read aloud. Snorting, he replaced the volume and pulled out the next. "Coastal Ghosts of Note."
"This guy had…interesting…tastes in reading material." He replaced the volume and returned to the stairs, the corner of his mouth quirked up sardonically. Still, his step was somewhat lighter as he ascended to the next floor; after all, now he had something to pass the time besides paperwork and avoiding Rodney.
The third floor had what appeared to be a circular hallway with four doors; opening the nearest, he discovered a cozy bedroom furnished with tastefully-simple dark wood. Nodding his approval, he murmured "Dibs" and set his ruck down in the center. Returning to the hall, he went to check out the other chambers on that level. All four were practically identical sleeping quarters, each with a simple bed, desk, chair, and wardrobe, and each with a solitary window that overlooked the landscape. Reconsidering his initial choice, Sheppard moved his equipment to the room with the view overlooking the front entrance; if he was the security, he needed the vantage point.
Divested of his pack, he took to the stairs once again. The fourth floor was unfurnished, and, like the second, consisted of a single circular chamber whose rough-hewn stone walls were more obvious without the books. The walls were damp with condensation, and a chill breeze whistled through the ill-fitted windows despite the sunlight outside. "Some draft…" he muttered, then moved on.
The steps ended on the fifth level, with a huge, central, rusted beacon that must have once signaled inbound ships of the dangerous rocks below. Long-since fallen into disuse with the advent of airships on this planet, the framework still stood as a monument to generations of lighthouse keepers and their lonely vigils. The light originally didn't even run on electricity; he could still see the ethanol line that led to it from the tank below. 'No wonder they decided to power the place with an ethanol-burning generator; the tank was already here and the pipes already bolted to the walls.' Idly the LTC ran his hand along the edge of the reflecting lens as he stared out at the ocean. Sunlight striking the waves sparkled and danced, causing him to squint and shield his eyes from the glare. Still, despite the sunny day, he could make out storm clouds gathering on the distant horizon. "Hope that isn't an omen," he muttered, then sighed. 'I'm so tired…' he thought momentarily, before dismissing the idea as self-pity. Resolutely he turned and trudged back downstairs to check the alarm system, the water, and his two charges.
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"No, no, no! That won't work at all." Zelenka shouldered in front of McKay at the Deltarran computer terminal and began to type furiously. Jabbing a finger at the new results on the screen, he exclaimed, "What did I tell you? The feedback is too great. The buffers as they stand would overload in seconds."
"That's not it at all." Despite being seated, McKay managed to regain control of the keyboard and began entering other data. Without so much as a glance at the results being tabulated after he hit 'enter', he swung round to glare at the smaller man. "You weren't adding in the extra compensators."
Sheppard stood unnoticed at the door and sighed mentally. He was now comfortable with the security arrangements in the lighthouse itself, although he planned a trip into town later to check out the 'local constabulary' where the alarm apparently would sound if they were in trouble. Closing his eyes briefly, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, recalling the recent massive explosion that still haunted his nightmares. 'McKay's not listening again. I suppose it was too much to expect 'The Ego That Ate Atlantis' to tone it down for a few months. I really don't need this right now…'
The Czech scientist stared at the screen, then stood back and gestured violently towards it with both hands. "Yes, yes…that is exactly what I was talking about!" His glasses migrated towards the tip of his nose as he crossed his arms over his chest in angry defiance, returning McKay's glare with equal vehemence. John had to smile; at least the smaller scientist seemed able to hold his own in a shouting match.
A look of confusion crossed the Chief Scientist's face, and he swung back towards the screen. "What are you…" The question died on his lips as the implications of the numbers displayed registered in his brain. Hitting the keyboard, he murmured, "That can't be right…"
Sheppard had come up behind them unnoticed. "I'm putting my money on Doctor Z," he drawled sarcastically.
McKay swung around in surprise and gulped like a fish for a moment before regaining his composure and turning intently back to the computer. He was brilliant. He knew he was brilliant. He just had to prove it to John Sheppard. Biting his lip in concentration, he fingered a particular equation and pointedly ignored the comment. "What if we were to adjust the input frequency here…"
Uncomfortably shifting his gaze between the two men, Zelenka's curiosity finally got the better of him and he leaned forward to peer nearsightedly at the screen, shoving up his glasses as he did so. "Perhaps…"
Neither scientist took their eyes from the computer as Rodney's fingers danced over the keyboard. "Dr. Seinlein was either a certified genius or a complete whack-job," commented McKay finally. "He takes the normal laws of physics…"
"And twists them sideways," completed Zelenka without missing a beat.
Sheppard snorted. "Sideways physics notwithstanding, how about I rustle us up some lunch?"
McKay's stomach growled appreciatively, as if on cue. His mind, however, was elsewhere. "Sure, sure, sounds great," he commented without glancing up.
"Now if we change the wave amplitude at this point…."
Sheppard shook his head as he left the room. Trudging towards the kitchen, he paused at the main room. Their supplies were strewn haphazardly over the floor and onto the couch from Zelenka's laptop search earlier. Apparently scientists tended to be slob when they were caught up in a new project. A few minutes search resulted in the culinary supplies he wanted, and he headed to the stove. 'We'll have to clean that stuff up later,' he resolved, smiling at the prospect.
The enticing aroma of vegetable soup drew the scientists out of their basement lair before an hour had passed. Wide-eyed, the pair wandered into the kitchen to discover their T-shirt-clad Chief Military Officer stirring a large pot over low heat, whistling to himself, and looking more relaxed than he had in weeks.
Pulling up a chair to the kitchen table, McKay questioned, "You cook?" He was constantly amazed by the versatility of the man.
Sheppard tensed at the sound of Rodney's voice, then forced himself to relax. 'McKay didn't mean anything,' he told himself as he shot the scientists a crooked grin. "Of course. I'm a bachelor; it was cook or starve." Adjusting the flame of the gas stove slightly, he continued, "I actually sort of enjoy it."
McKay stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "I can't cook…." he muttered under his breath, much to Radek's poorly disguised delight. Zelenka had grown up in a relatively large family that was always struggling to make ends meet. Since both parents worked, the children split the household chores among themselves; he'd been cooking for as long as he could remember.
Sheppard sent Rodney a questioning glance. "So what do you eat at home?"
McKay was evasive. "TV dinners, take-out pizza, that sort of thing."
John bit his tongue and refrained from commenting on poor nutrition, instead stating, "Well, you'll like this better." He gestured at the pot. "I brought a few Athosian vegetables with us to experiment on; when I check out the village this afternoon, I'll see if I can pick up something else."
Ladling out three huge bowls, he started towards the table. "Here, let me help." Zelenka was at his side in a heartbeat, and moments later all three men were intently devouring their meal.
"So, you're going to the village?" McKay finally managed between mouthfuls.
Sheppard nodded without looking up from his bowl. "Yeah, I figured that since I was on security detail, I'd check out the 'local constabulary' office where the alarm supposedly rings, see what kind of staffing and weapons backup might be available should we need them."
Zelenka choked on a carrot. After a bit of coughing and over-enthusiastic back-pounding by Rodney, he managed to squeak out, "So you think we are in danger?"
Sheppard quirked up his mouth and snorted. "Not really, but I'd be remiss in my duty if I didn't know all my options. Hey, it might not be my normal line of work, but I have run security details in the past. You just enjoy two weeks of playing 'mad scientist', and let me do the worrying."
Zelenka glanced around nervously, then nodded and continued his meal.
After they cleared the dishes, the two scientists headed back to the lab as Sheppard snagged his jacket from a nearby rack. "I'll be back in a couple of hours; try not to blow anything up in the meantime!" His tone of voice was only half-joking as he stared at McKay's retreating back.
TBC….
AN: Oooh, the boys are not playing well together, are they? And for the whumpers out there, don't worry, it's coming in another few chapters. After all, what's a kerravon story without injury and mayhem?