Disclaimer: Still not ours.
A/N: In lieu of the more... traditional author's note, we thought it would be far more amusing to include the following excerpt from our current IM conversation:
The Libran Iniquity says:
Okay, author's notes time.
The Eternal Button Pusher says:
Exzploded Pen: You know following a series of mini disasters of the irritating kind its still surprisingly difficult to find time to get this story written, so here's the next chapter to keep you all going for a bit :-) Anything else to add?
The Libran Iniquity says:
A spell check on your name?? ;P
The Eternal Button Pusher says:
Exploded - see my typing skills have already gone to hell... this bodes well...
And on that... note... we hope you enjoy the new chapter :)
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Chapter Seven
Six days later Major Sheppard was released from the infirmary, though still banned from duty. This Rodney knew only because that morning Zelenka had come into the lab after a briefing with the other department heads and somewhat bluntly informed his boss that Ford was no longer out for his head on a plaque.
Rodney wasn't entirely sure which was the more comforting thought – that Sheppard was alive and out of the infirmary, or that Ford wasn't going to hunt him down while he slept. In the end, he settled with the former; above anything else, it was idiotic to keep obsessing over relations with a junior Marine like an impressionable seven-year-old.
The question of Ford's vengeance notwithstanding, Rodney wasn't so emotionally dense that he couldn't pick up on the tensions in the main science laboratory the morning after the team's return from the Wraith's planet. Every time he looked up from work and reports, there was at least one scientist trying to hide the fact that they were staring at Rodney and Zelenka in equal measure. What Rodney couldn't figure out was the hidden meaning behind the looks.
Then again, who said he had to be the one to give a crap? Rodney may have given up the picnics in the alien woods, but back in Atlantis he was still the one in charge, and he made sure that it showed. Sure, so some of the scientists might have gone to Zelenka instead of him over the course of that morning, but Rodney was certain that was down to whoever was nearest to the monkeys and their wrenches at the time. Well... almost certain. But again with the not giving a crap. Delegation was truly a brilliant concept; McKay was getting more done in the space of a few hours than he would over a few full days of work.
But the sense of accomplishment wasn't the same, though, and neither was that weird, mushy feeling inside him he got whenever he showed one of the aforementioned monkeys how to correct where they'd gone wrong. He... oh, come on. How could he miss it when he never liked it in the first place?
o o o o o
Several levels further up in Atlantis, Elizabeth sat in her office with one of the last Earth-made cups of coffee in the city. She'd been going through the latest reports about the damage the storm had wrecked on the south-western sections of Atlantis, and it wasn't making for nice reading. The recommendations of the Marine scouting team had been to seal off the flooded levels altogether, and to somehow reroute controls and power away from there so the entire section wasn't put out of possible commission.
Rodney really wasn't going to like the latest addition to his to-do list.
Before she could call him, however, to tell him that the planned exploration of the de-flooded sections of the city was off for the time being, she caught movement from the corner of her eye.
A second later Grodin's head disappeared, and a couple of seconds after that, one of the scientists came down the walkway to her office.
"Doctor Weir?"
"Yes?" She stood up, motioning for her to come in. "Doctor... Dawson, right?"
"Yeah," the scientist replied, nervously. "Shania Dawson, ma'am."
"Okay Shania," Elizabeth pointed her to one of the chairs, "what can I do for you?"
Dawson shifted slightly in her seat. "I discovered a power signature earlier and after talking it over with Doctor Zelenka, he said to bring my proposal to you to get it signed off properly."
"Doctor Zelenka?" Elizabeth frowned. "Doctor McKay's the head of the science department, you should have seen him before bringing it to me."
Dawson blinked. "I, er... couldn't find him."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.
Almost on cue, Dawson's eyes grew wider.
"Okay," Elizabeth said, leaning forward, "what did you come to see me about?"
o o o o o
"Okay, we're leaving the living quarters now, moving onto the -"
Rodney glanced up at the screen tracking the moving lifesigns. He moved back around to the main section of the control room with his laptop and what felt like half the city's self-appointed technicians floating around in the background. "Wait a second, what kind of living quarters? I'm looking for a -"
He was cut off by Sheppard staring up at him in disbelief; the major had been released from the infirmary the previous day on continued medical leave, even though he still hadn't fully recovered from the Wraith's assault. "What, are you trying to be a realtor?" Sheppard asked him.
Rodney hesitated, and in his ear he heard Zelenka's reply: "Ro – Doctor McKay?"
"Yes?"
"As I was saying, we're moving away from the habitation area, and –"
"Hey, Zippy!" a voice – Ford's – interrupted. "Come check this out!"
Zippy? The man was being given nicknames now? Rodney resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and without realising it looked over to Sheppard, who simply cocked his head to one side. "I'll talk to him about the naming thing," he smirked.
Rodney started to smirk back before catching himself. "What's happening?"
"Lieutenant Ford has found what appears to be a laboratory," Teyla's disembodied voice replied.
"More than just a lab! There's someone in here!" Ford interjected.
Everyone in the control room leapt into action, including Sheppard, who got as far as his feet before sitting down again, looking slightly faint. Rodney went back over to the Ancient display screen, and stabbed a few times at the laptop hooked up to it. A few seconds later the display changed to a schematic of the room Teyla, Zelenka and Ford were in.
"Hey – he's right," Rodney said, mostly to himself. He felt, rather than saw, someone lean in – unsteadily – over his shoulder. "Look." He showed the major what he meant. "There. It's a fourth lifesign – very, very faint, but it's there."
"So what do we do?" Ford asked.
Rodney hit his radio again. "Doctor Beckett, report to Doctor Zelenka's location immediately. Got a little job for you."
"How urgent?"
Rodney did roll his eyes this time. "I don't know yet, otherwise I would have told you. Grab your medkit and go."
Carson audibly sighed. "On my way."
The radio cut off, and Rodney turned around to see Sheppard moving slowly back towards his chair. "Any idea what that fourth lifesign is, McKay?" he threw back over his shoulder.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Major. My long range telepathy isn't working today," Rodney shot back without thinking. He caught Sheppard's eye for a moment, and they both started to smirk – almost like it had been before the storm – before they both caught themselves, almost at the same time. "Carson'll radio us when he gets there, Major," Rodney said stiffly, turning back to the display again and trying not to think about anything except the mystery starting to unfold in front of him.
o o o o o
"Be quiet everyone," Carson admonished, "she's waking up."
Radek glanced nervously between Weir and the figure lying on the bed. Any reaction Weir might have had to being told that her genetic double had been found in a stasis chamber had been quickly squashed and her face was now an unreadable mask as she stared intently at the elderly woman's face.
For his part Sheppard was sat on the next bed over where Carson had insisted he stay, craning his neck in an attempt to see what was happening. All the nurses had been shooed away a few minutes before, leaving only the senior staff to witness the woman's return to consciousness, with the exception of Rodney, who as far as Radek was aware was looking over the readings from the laboratory and double-checking there was nothing else untoward.
A sigh from the bed drew Radek's attention back to the here and now and he realised the woman was finally regaining consciousness. None of the readouts on the medical equipment meant anything to him, though he gathered from Carson's demeanour that nothing was seriously wrong.
Carson leaned in over his patient. "Hello love," he said gently.
"Carson..." the woman replied, the obvious recognition in her voice tinged with something else Radek couldn't identify.
"Er... yes," Carson replied, clearly bemused.
The woman looked around the ward, slowly taking everything in. Her face lit up when she saw Weir. "I've missed you all, so much..." she said, smiling, "John, Carson..." Her smile faltered, however, when she saw Radek. "Doctor Zelenka...?" she asked; Radek nodded. "...Where's Rodney...?"
Weir glanced at Sheppard briefly before turning back to the woman. "He's – not here at the moment," she replied, uncertainly.
The woman looked crestfallen for a moment before Sheppard spoke up. "He's really busy at the moment, I'm sure he can take some time out to see you later," he said in such a way Radek couldn't tell whether he was being sincere or not.
"So he's not...?" the woman trailed off.
Sheppard blinked. "What, dead? No! McKay's... he's fine."
The woman smiled. "Good," she said. "He worked so hard, gave everything to save us..."
Weir moved a little closer to the bed. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Rodney died, trying to save everyone... save us..." The woman's voice was becoming slurred, the words more difficult to make out.
Sheppard and Weir shifted uncomfortably, and Radek looked over at Carson. Nobody seemed to know what to say, until one of the monitors attached to the woman beeped softly.
She'd fallen asleep.
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