Temporal Reconnaissance
By koinekid
Time Frame: After The Return (Season 3 Episodes 10 and 11)
Spoilers: The Return (pts 1 and 2)
Author's Note: In this story, I will assume that Jennifer Keller was among many new expedition members added after the events of The Return (Season 3, Episodes 10 and 11). This chapter takes place between Season 3, Episodes 11 and 12.
* * *
Chapter Two: All Our Yesterdays Are Tomorrows
October 2006
Five Days After SGA-1 Retook Atlantis
For the first time in far too long, Rodney McKay smiled. Standing on one of Atlantis's many balconies at dusk, watching as the light ebbed then vanished, he realized that Sheppard had been right: This city was home. Rodney had acknowledged as much before, even echoed the sentiment more than once, but only in the general sense that any place you regularly sleep is home. A breeze fluttered through his hair—like a lover's caress, that pesky sentimental side of his insisted. He laughed, a single, brusque "Ha!" then turned to head inside, scooping up his tablet as he went.
An on-screen alert notified Rodney that the diagnostic he'd ordered ninety minutes ago had completed. He tapped the proper icon and cursed as he read the results. During their occupation of the city, the Asuran replicators had made a mess of things trying to modify the Ancient computers. Control and security mainframes checked out all right, but so far every system that served no purpose for non-biological lifeforms showed evidence of tampering. Medical had been hit hard.
The polymorphic encryption disguising the alterations could be broken in time, but the IOA expected Atlantis to resume normal operations by the first of the month. The quick and dirty solution would be to freeze the system, then run a detailed comparison of the altered database with a clean copy, removing what did not match. A good plan, assuming he could locate—or, failing that, reconstruct—a clean copy. Before the Ancients tossed them out of Atlantis, Rodney copied chunks of the city's database onto every available hard drive. Medical data, though, had not been one of his priorities. He had maybe forty percent of it.
Perhaps the Head of Medicine had downloaded the rest?
Rodney's hand was halfway to his earwig before he remembered that Carson Beckett had left for Earth that morning for a week of orientation with his new medical recruits. And, of course, to rescue his pets, the "wee baby turtles" he'd purchased when he thought he'd left Atlantis for good. "You don't understand, Rodney," Carson had whined over the bawhoosh of the forming wormhole. "The poor babies are probably dead already."
Rodney's response, "Then why rush back?" had sent Carson marching through the gate in a huff.
He tried to remember who was in charge of the infirmary in Carson's absence but soon realized that he had no idea which members of the medical staff were currently on Atlantis. For that matter, he wasn't sure who on his staff had returned. Zelenka was taking his sweet time disentangling himself from whatever third-rate university or fourth-rate research lab had hired him. He should be the one doing this busy work. Thoughts of how to punish his tardy second-in-command accompanied him to the transporter.
In the infirmary, he nodded curtly to the on-duty nurse and made himself at home in Carson's office, being sure to check whether the physician had replenished his emergency candy stash. He had. Rodney popped a Hershey's kiss into his mouth before beginning his search.
Carson's main terminal yielded nothing. Nor did two others in the office. He found twelve percent of the database in the Recycle Bin of a third and smaller portions in several external hard drives. Some of the data overlapped what he already had, but, after a few hours, he'd reassembled eighty-seven percent of the medical database. He instructed the computer to run a comparison, flag the inconsistencies, and quarantine those sectors for which there were no corresponding clean copies. He'd get Zelenka to spot-check those sectors when he returned.
He placed an administrative lock on the terminal he'd claimed, swiped a handful of chocolates, and headed for the exit. Oh his way, he bumped the desk, and Carson's tablet fell to the floor with a clatter. Cringing, Rodney bent to retrieve the tablet and came face to face with an angel. That damn sentimental streak again. He'd examined the tablet earlier but tossed it aside without paying attention to the active window when it didn't contribute to his search.
He paid attention now.
Though, he wasn't sure why. The photo was unremarkable. Certainly, the young woman was striking, perhaps even beautiful. Tapping the screen increased the picture's size. Yes, definitely beautiful. And blond, always a plus in his book. Rodney preferred the women he dated to wear short hair, but he had to admit long hair suited her. He found, too, that her brown eyes didn't bother him all that much, not if they were as warm in person as they promised to be.
Her eyes were not the only source of warmth. Heat rose in Rodney's abdomen and spread throughout his body, and his heart thumped in his chest. Damn it, I'm having a panic attack. Frantically, he scanned the area for the nurse and tried to slow his breathing. In, out, in, out. Nothing about the photo should have provoked such a reaction. The woman had done her best to look serious, staring straight ahead without a hint of a smile. Mugshots were more flattering. Still, Jennifer Keller's beauty could not help but shine through her dour expression.
Emerging into the infirmary proper and screaming for the nurse, he wondered how he had known Jennifer's name. It must have been written on the tablet, but he couldn't recall having read it. Yet, he knew beyond doubt:
That Jennifer Keller had more academic degrees than he did, and he wasn't nearly as jealous as he should have been...
That she secretly hated her hometown until she moved to a city for the first time...
That she lost her mother years ago and never spoke about it...
That she loved her father dearly and feared leaving him alone...
That she loved him and had chosen him over—Oh, my God—over Ronon Dex!
Clarity struck, and Rodney all at once knew why he knew these things. Then a blinding pain bent him double and he was on the floor, muscles tensed and limbs drawn against his trunk. He moaned, then wept at the pain's brilliance and couldn't find it in him to care, even when he realized the nurse knelt at his side, sliding something soft under his head. He heard a voice, probably hers, but he couldn't make out the words.
A minute or an hour later, he heard other noises, what might have been boots pounding down the hall, then looked up in time to see Colonel Sheppard skid to a stop. Hastily tied combat boots contrasted sharply with his sleep pants and graphic tee. Ronon was not far behind and... My God, is that what he wears to sleep?
Ronon's presence reminded him, and he tried to say, "John, she picked me over him." He never knew whether he succeeded. A crystal clear image of Jennifer's naked body banished all other thoughts. He had but a moment to marvel at the glorious glimpse of perfection beckoning him to her before the next wave seized him. Muscles contracted and relaxed, contracted and relaxed, sending him into violent, rolling convulsions. Eyes rolled back into his head, and his jaw contracted, molars clamping down on his tongue. Blood pooled in his mouth, and he began to choke. John helped the nurse turn him on his side so he could spit out the blood. The jostling turned his stomach, and vomit followed the blood. The act of vomiting sapped the last of his strength, and Rodney quite contentedly left the waking world behind.
* * *
"Will this be your first time through the Stargate, Dr. Keller?"
Jennifer tried her best not to groan as pretty-boy Cameron Mitchell added himself to the growing list of men at Stargate Command who had asked her that same question. Couldn't any of them devise a better pickup line? "No, Colonel, this will be my fourth trip off world. I've been on three medical missions to planets in the Milky Way."
"That a fact?" Mitchell grinned. "Have to admit I had you pegged as a greenhorn. You were giving off that whole deer in the headlights vibe."
Jennifer shrugged. "Appearances can be deceiving."
"Noted. It's 'Cam,' by the way, not Colonel."
Knowing it was expected of her, she replied, "Cam." Why did she have to be so damn nice? Flirting might be a good way to score free beer off college boys in Boston, but she was a professional now.
Mitchell leaned forward. "This is the part where you say, 'Call me "Jennifer."'"
"I'll keep that in mind for future reference." Okay, maybe she wasn't all that nice. Nor did she need to be any longer. Carson picked that moment to enter the gate room, decked out in his gray and yellow uniform sans patches and struggling under the weight of a backpack and three duffels. Jennifer sprang to help though she carried two bags of her own.
Carson shook his head. "Mind your own gear, love." He looked over his shoulder. "You can dial Atlantis now, Sergeant."
"That's my cue. Best make myself scarce." Mitchell winked. "Take care of yourself, Doc. If you need anything, you know our number."
"Don't wait up for that call, Cam. I'm sure I'll have dozens of strapping, young soldiers to meet my needs in Pegasus." Jennifer smirked at the blush spreading across Mitchell's cheeks. Her face fell a moment later when she realized her boss had heard the retort. "I'm just kidding, Carson."
"Aye, I'm just surprised that you can do that so effectively." The Scot laughed. "I was going to say 'don't let Colonel Mitchell's advances faze you since you'll be fending off many more like him on Atlantis.' Now I see my advice isn't necessary."
She blushed and pretended to adjust the strap on her computer bag, jumping a little at the noise of the wormhole forming.
Carson strode up the ramp toward the event horizon. Once he stepped through, he would arrive almost instantaneously in Atlantis. Ordinarily gate travel to Pegasus would take nearly half an hour and require use of a puddle jumper. Today, however, one of the fully-powered ZPMs the Asurans had left behind in Atlantis was powering the earth gate. It was a temporary convenience. Once the rest of the expedition returned to Atlantis, the ZPM would be relocated to the antarctic outpost and travel would be routed through Dr. McKay's midway gate system. Carson clenched his eyes shut, his revulsion at being demolecularized apparent. Putting on a shaky smile, he said, "Well, then, shall we see what Dr. McKay has done to himself this time?"
Jennifer nodded, more than a little excited. Half an hour ago, she'd been seated in a conference room while Dr. Beckett lectured on Pegasus Galaxy pathogens that mimicked earth-based ones and the importance of knowing the difference. Then Sergeant Harriman arrived with an urgent summons for Beckett's return. Without hesitation, he asked Jennifer to accompany him, leaving behind a table full of older, more experienced, and now resentful doctors.
She figured Carson would start her out slow with mundane surgery and methodical research, nudging her out of her comfort zone a little at a time until he judged her ready for the exotic cases that he dealt with on a daily basis. She assumed she'd have to wait at least a year before being allowed to play with the big kids. Instead, on her first day, she'd be consulting on Dr. Rodney McKay's unexplained seizure and subsequent unconsciousness—a logical decision, if not a popular one, since one of her Ph.D.'s was in neurology.
Jennifer had been reviewing McKay's medical file—a paper copy since the SGC had not adopted widespread use of computer tablets—when Mitchell approached her. Not wanting to appear rude, she slipped the file into her bag while he engaged her in conversation. The deer in the headlights look he'd mentioned had nothing to do with gate travel, which admittedly she still wasn't all that comfortable with; it had everything to do with treating someone so important.
McKay was the head of a department and a member of Atlantis's premier gate team, someone, who—if the rumors were true—was as smart as she. There wasn't an arrogant bone in Jennifer Keller's body, but she truly hated talking to stupid people. Nothing turned her on, so to speak, more than a good intellectual discussion. Now all she had to do to have that discussion was diagnose and treat the good doctor.
Tentatively, she had ruled out epilepsy. McKay had no family or personal history, and, while adult onset was possible, it was rare, especially for a thirty-eight-year-old. Hypoglycemia could also result in seizures. His chart indicated he often claimed to experience the effects of low blood sugar, but none of his doctors had formally diagnosed the condition. Her mind cycled rapidly through a litany of obscure conditions that might cause seizures before she reminded herself that the obscurer the condition, the less likely your patient is suffering from it. Sleep deprivation, stress, poor diet, and lack of exercise were the triggers she should focus on first.
Once on the other side of the wormhole, the physicians were met by met by the head of Atlantis's military. Carson introduced him as Colonel John Sheppard. Jennifer would come to know him as one of those Mitchell-like men that Carson warned her about, but now, because of the pinched expression on his face and his hastily ushering them to the infirmary, she took him as a man concerned for his friend. It was a first impression he'd never fail to live up to.
"Tell us what happened, Colonel." Carson struggled to keep pace with the soldier. "And, for heaven's sake, slow down."
Sheppard slowed to a more manageable gait, for which Jennifer was grateful. Even though she was in better shape than Carson, she was no match for a seasoned soldier.
"According to your nurse Marie, Rodney enters the infirmary at around 1830 and goes straight for your office—"
"My office?"
"We've had computer issues because of the Replicators. Rodney's been working on repairing them all week."
Jennifer raised her hand, a habit she'd yet to break despite having been out of school for over a year. "Has he been getting adequate rest?"
Sheppard shook his head. "Rodney never gets enough rest."
"Go on, Colonel," Carson prompted.
"Just past 2100, Rodney runs out of your office, screaming and clutching his stomach. He falls to the floor, shaking, and..." Sheppard chewed his lip, regarding Jennifer before continuing. "...well, crying."
Jennifer grimaced in sympathy. "The pain must have been awful to cause such a reaction." She understood the colonel's reticence. He didn't want to embarrass Rodney in front of a stranger, even a doctor.
Sheppard nodded, a half smile on his lips. "Marie called me, and I rushed down. Grabbed Ronon on the way."
Carson frowned. "Was Rodney coherent when you reached him? Did he say anything that might give us a clue?"
"He said something, all right, but I don't think it's a clue. I think he was delusional."
"What did he say?"
Sheppard sighed. "Something about a girl picking him over Ronon."
Carson nodded. "Aye, definitely delusional."
* * *
Be sure, Jennifer's family medicine professor had cautioned, to scope out the friends and family when you enter a patient's room. Judge their moods, decide which ones are likely to make trouble and take pains to avoid giving them too much ammunition.
She put that advice into practice as soon as she entered McKay's room. Sheppard might be trouble. He seemed the type to assume that treating his friend was as simple as following a set of directions written somewhere in that magical database of theirs. She regarded the pair seated around McKay's bed and decided they wouldn't be trouble. Ronon Dex seemed to fit the cliché of tall, dark, and handsome, with enough strong and silent thrown in that, if he had objections, he wouldn't voice them. Serenity exuded from Teyla Emmagen, and Jennifer wondered if she had found the woman Carson and Sheppard implied Dex and McKay were fighting over.
If so, McKay would need all the luck he could get. Dex might be out of Jennifer's league, but a beauty like Teyla had a shot.
Jealousy spread ice through her veins as soon as Jennifer saw her patient. Teyla could have Ronon if she wanted. Rodney belonged to her. Despite the oxygen tubes and his haggard, disheveled appearance, he was the handsomest man she'd ever seen. Her conscious mind fought the allegation. Certainly, he was not unpleasant to look at, but she'd seen more attractive men. No! Her subconscious fought back, insisting that his was the face by which she would evermore judge all others.
Without deciding to, she dropped her medical bags, heedless of damaging the expensive equipment inside, and strode forward.
"Jennifer, what are you...?"
She ignored Carson, pushed past Ronon and Teyla, and slipped her hand into Rodney's. Bending, she pressed a kiss to his cold, cracked lips, and whispered, "Sweetheart, it's okay. Jennifer's here now."
Rodney's eyes snapped open as she pulled back. He first caught sight of Teyla at the foot of his bed, shock evident in her wide-open eyes. Ronon smirked, while nearby Sheppard and Carson were chopfallen—Carson especially, glancing from his protégé to his best friend, and then dropping his head into his hands, muttering something Rodney thought it best he was too far away to hear.
The he saw her, felt her hand in his, and squeezed. "Jen..."
She was still standing since Ronon hadn't yet vacated his seat. He was doing just that, motivated mostly by the glare Rodney sent his way, when Jennifer's hand went limp in Rodney's. She pitched forward, and her knees buckled. Rodney could do nothing but watch her fall. Ronon reacted swiftly, slipping an arm around her waist and sweeping her into his arms.
Rodney almost protested when the Satedan carried her to the bed on the other side of the room. He stood to follow, but Sheppard's restraining hand pushed him back into bed.
"But Jennifer—"
"Beckett's taking care of her, Rodney. You sit tight."
"But—"
"You try to stumble over there in your condition and you'll crack your skull open. Then Beckett will have two patients to deal with."
Rodney nodded his acquiescence, but he craned his neck to see past the medical staff surrounding Jennifer. He caught sight of her hand flopping about as the seizure wracked her frame, and he groaned.
Carson's voice rose as he spat out orders for MRI's, EEG's, and blood work for both his patients. Rodney groaned again as he heard the words "lumbar puncture."
"And seal off the infirmary. We might be dealing with a communicable pathogen." Carson tapped his earwig. "Beckett to Doctor..."
Sheppard slumped down into the empty chair beside the bed and squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "All right, Sleeping Beauty, looks like we're going to be here a while. Why don't you tell us what happened?"
TBC
Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.
