AN: This short fic was inspired by the quote: "Give me Optican, Collins, and Zelenka if he's over that stomach flu."-Rodney McKay, 'Trinity'

I got to wondering, "What stomach flu?', and this is the result.

SPOILERS: None

SUMMARY: Radek gets a stomach flu, but is anything ever that simple on Atlantis?

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.

Not an Exact Science

By Kerr Avon

"Give me Optican, Collins, and Zelenka if he's over that stomach flu."

-Rodney McKay, 'Trinity'

1. Just a Little Bug

"Dr. Zelenka, were you here all night?"

Zelenka startled awake, head jerking up from where it had been resting on his folded arms. Glasses askew, he blinked blearily at Miko, and the Japanese scientist gave him a tentative smile. Taking a deep breath to clear the cobwebs, he held it for a moment, puffed out his cheeks, then slowly exhaled through pursed lips as he glanced around his workstation. His laptop had gone into 'hibernate', and the remains of his coffee were stone cold. Cursing to himself, he glanced at his watch. '5:30 already? The briefing is in half an hour!'

He returned her smile gently, knowing how painfully shy the young woman could be. Carding a hand through his thinning hair in a futile attempt to smooth it, he replied, "I must have nodded off during my simulations. Thank you for waking me." Straightening his glasses and pushing them back onto the bridge of his nose, he hurriedly stood and gathered up his computer.

The other scientist nodded politely and went on her way as Radek rubbed at the two-day stubble on his face on the way out the door. He had time to either shower and shave or catch a cup of hot coffee and a bite to eat before the weekly science department conference. Breakfast won out as his growling stomach made its opinion heard, so he shifted his Dell to the opposite hip and headed to the mess hall.

Once there and confronted with the limited choices available, he found that he wasn't as hungry as he had thought. Ultimately he asked for a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee and sat at a table in the corner where he could compose his notes. With Meyers and Sorenson both ill, he was desperately short of personnel for the number of ongoing projects, and needed to make that clear to the remainder of the department. His people could not be commandeered unless it was a life-or-death situation. Opening up his laptop, he was engrossed in his planned presentation when a second tray plopped down next to his. Startled, he shot a quick glare at the new arrival, then went back to work with a snort.

"How's it going, Radek?" asked McKay, digging into his own heaping plate of eggs, sausage, and hash browns.

Zelenka stared at him over the rim of his glasses before savagely shoving them back up his nose. "I am trying to prepare for staff meeting," he replied.

"Oh, yeah," McKay commented, gesticulating with his fork. "It's a lot easier when you're the boss; all I have to do is listen." Staring off into space for a moment, he mused, "Of course, even that can be occasionally challenging…."

The Czech stared disapprovingly at the physicist's tray, feeling vaguely nauseated by the sheer quantity of grease evident. "I will know soon enough. When you have inevitable heart attack, Weir will put me in charge."

Rodney chuckled good-naturedly as he cleaned his plate. "Hey, you know what they say; 'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die'." He gestured to his tray, "If this is the most dangerous thing I do today, then it'll be a first." So saying, he slugged down the dregs of his beverage and stood. "I'm getting another cup for the road; you want one?"

Radek shook his head; to tell the truth, he no longer wanted his first, nor the remains of his oatmeal. "No, thank you. I shall be along momentarily." After McKay had gone, he put the finishing touches on his notes, then shut down the computer and headed to the conference room.

The room was stuffy and cacophonous, and Radek found himself sweating as he sat next to Isaacs in the second row. The nausea that had begun in the mess hall worsened in the heat, making him wish fervently for his cool, quiet lab. Fortunately the man next to him was disinclined to conversation, which suited Zelenka just fine. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, grimacing at the sweat he encountered, as he booted up his notes.

The meeting stretched on forever. Fortunately, as Radek's department was working on several high-priority projects, his presentation was one of the first.

He clambered nervously to his feet, glancing around the room without really meeting anyone's eyes. "Engineering is badly shortstaffed this week. We already have two people in the infirmary with a stomach flu, and I am afraid that more may follow." He savagely suppressed the small internal voice that murmured, 'Like you'. He didn't have the time to be sick; there was just too much to do.

"Our priority right now is Jumper repair, as that directly impacts our mission in this galaxy. Our research and development team is still defining the subroutines to isolate environmental controls in certain sections of the city, so repairs can be made to individual rooms without shutting down whole areas simultaneously. Additionally, repairs to the inhabited, damaged areas of the city are proceeding as scheduled."

He looked up at this point and met McKay's quiet gaze. "Needless to say, we do not have personnel to spare to any other projects at this time, unless it is an absolute emergency."

Seeing McKay's nod, he relaxed. He abhorred public speaking, but this had to be said. Looking around at his audience, he was pleased to see several people nodding their understanding as well. He suddenly recalled that Ames in Biology had made a similar request last week, which explained the sympathetic grimace on his face. 'I wonder if he had that flu as well?' He sat heavily in his seat, trying to pay attention to the rest of the meeting through the fog that filled his brain. Nevertheless, Zelenka found his mind inevitably wandering as the reports droned on.

He was jerked back to the present by a sharp nudge in the ribs. Eyes flying wide, he glanced up to see half the room staring at him. McKay's arms were crossed as he irritably tapped his foot.

"Dr. Zelenka, I asked if the engineering department could spare someone to help Chemistry with their…project." His tone of voice gave the Czech a clear understanding of the minimal priority McKay gave the 'project', but Radek was annoyed that it had come up at all, given his earlier plea.

Shaking his head violently, he replied, "No, no. Perhaps next week. Too much to do this week, with too few people." He immediately wished his response had been verbal alone, as the room swung dizzily with his head movement.

"You don't even know what we're talking about!" cried Kavanagh in frustration.

The Czech, still hoping that the room would stop wobbling, shot the chemist a withering glare as he ticked off the points on his fingers. "One: as I said earlier, we are short-handed this week with two of my staff in infirmary. Two: Dr. McKay asked for engineer rather than demanded one, meaning that it can wait. Three: the initial request clearly comes from you." He shrugged theatrically. "What more need I know?"

Several chuckles could be heard, infuriating the pony-tailed scientist who folded his arms and sulked for the remainder of the session. Zelenka tried to keep his mind on the discussion, but found it challenging. The room had gotten hotter over the course of an hour, and the walls swayed eerily in the corners of his vision. Zelenka bolted for the corridor when the meeting adjourned. He paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead once again before heading to the Jumper bay to check on the progress his team was making repairing Jumper 6.

"Doctor Zelenka, a word," called a voice. Radek halted against his better judgement, closing his eyes, but did not turn around as the pony-tailed American caught up to him. Puffing slightly, the chemist continued, "I don't believe you actually heard what we need the engineering department for."

The shorter scientist resumed walking. "As I said in the meeting, I do not have the personnel to spare." He really didn't feel like have this conversation right now. The decking undulated nauseatingly as they traveled, and it took a great deal of concentration not to lurch into the walls. He would not display weakness to this man.

"But if you'd just listen!" Kavanagh grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around to where he could use his height to try and intimidate the Czech.

Zelenka managed to disguise the fact that the corridor was still spinning, although he finally silently admitted that he was ill. And when he got ill, his normally mild demeanor became…testy. Through narrowed eyes he stared pointedly at the offending hand until the other man shifted nervously and removed it. Lightening-fast, Radek switched his glare to Kavanagh's face, capturing his eyes in a steely gaze. "Do not ever do that again, understand?" he hissed. The American gulped and took an involuntary step backwards, nodding apprehensively, then beat a retreat down the corridor. The Czech scowled after him until he disappeared around a corner, then continued on his way unmolested.

In the Jumper bay, he found that O'Banyon had the Jumper Six repairs well in hand. After asking a few perfunctory questions, Zelenka nodded, satisfied with the work; nevertheless a vague wrongness permeated his thoughts. He and O'Banyon mapped out the next steps in the repair process as he tried to pin the feeling down.

Suddenly realization dawned. "Where is Dr. Krycheck?" he asked, glancing around for the scientist.

O'Banyon grimaced. "I sent him to see Beckett after he lost his breakfast on the decking this morning."

Zelenka closed his burning eyes and rubbed his throbbing temples. "So, we are short another person," he sighed. Opening his eyes again, he stared over his glasses at the scientist. "Why didn't you tell me? I can rearrange personnel so that…"

The grease-covered engineer shook his head and smiled. "Actually, we were ahead of schedule when he took ill; we'll finish on time. I didn't want to bother you unless I needed help," he replied aloud, adding under his breath, 'And you look worse than Ben did…'

Zelenka hesitated. "If you're sure…"

O'Banyon made shooing motions with his hands. "Go on. We're fine here. Don't you have to meet with Weir or something?"

Glancing wide-eyed at his watch, Radek nodded. "Yes, I do, in about thirty minutes." He rubbed the rough stubble on his chin again and mused, "I really should clean up a little first…"

"You do that," suggested the other man as he propelled him towards the door.

Zelenka turned and left the Jumper Bay. The thought of speaking to their beautiful commander energized his flagging spirits, and he strode purposefully towards his quarters.

By the time he reached them, however, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a month. 'What if I picked up that bug Meyers, Sorenson, and now Krycheck have?' he worried, remembering the mess when the redhead woman had not quite made it to the sink and vomited on the lab floor instead. He would have been mortified, but she was too sick to care. Shaking his head in denial, he bypassed the bed and headed for the bathroom. 'I'm fine,' he told himself firmly. 'I don't have time to be sick. There is too much to do,' he concluded as he stripped off his clothes from the night before and stepped into the shower. The scalding hot water revived him and by the time he shaved and put on a clean uniform, he felt human again. The room was too warm, so he dialed down the thermostat on the way out.

'If I must be sick, it will have to be later,' he thought as he headed down the hall.

TBC…..