A/N: Mostly Sheppard this time (with little innuendos from Rodney) 'cause I think I kinda neglected him a little bit.

Also, I edited the previous chapter a little bit...well actually I just erased the last sentence because I think it gave too much away after all and kinda takes the wind out of this one...I know for those who have read it already it's kinda pointless but I also have to think about the guys who'll discover and hopefully read this story a little bit later! Hope you can forgive me for my indecision...this whole thing gets harder to write with each chapter...-.-"

graphology = handwriting analysis

16. Don't count your scientist's until they are hatched (Part 2)

"Are you sure that you should be doing this?" Elizabeth asked and maybe his radio didn't work properly, because John could have sworn that she sounded a little bit peeved. And for some reason he knew that she wasn't refering to the search of Connollys quarters.

"What are you talking about Elizabeth? I am the Head of Security, of course I should be doing this."

The scientist that John had grabbed on his way to Connollys quarters shot him an incredulous look before he resumed his work on Connollys door.

Well, maybe his answer had been a wee bit flippant, but John was getting frustrated with her resistance. Didn't she know that they had to search Connollys quarters? It was procedure.

"But why now John? It's late. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

John could understand that she found it a little bit strange to search a room in the middle of the night. Especially when the suspect was already dead and there was no need to hurry anymore.

But John was too wired to even think about sleep. He had been dead tired when he had left the mess hall to check on Rodney, the last couple of days finally catching up with him. But when Lieutnant Jackson had radioed him and told him what had happened, his blood had run cold and he had been wide-awake.

Rodney had been attacked and he hadn't been there...again!

When he'd finally reached the lab and seen that Rodney was a little bit pale and shaky but otherwise unharmed, he hadn't been able to resist the urge to gather him in his arms. And Rodney hadn't pulled back, despite their audience, but actually been a little bit reluctant to let him go. That's when John realized that this whole ordeal must have been harder on the scientist than he'd let on. Rodney wasn't the clingy and needy type. Not usually.

So John had watched him the entire time, while Carson checked on Rodney and confirmed that Connolly was dead.

"Wow, what would we do without you Carson..." Rodney had muttered sarcastically but the doctor had just smiled at him and left with a "Good night, ye lucky bugger", while his team transported the body.

A lot of tension had left Rodney then and John had ordered a Marine to get him some coffee when the scientist had started to get annoyed with the remaining Marines.

By the time John and Lt. Jackson were the only ones left, Rodney had regained most of his composure and John had relaxed considerably. But not entirely.

Something felt off but he coudn't put his finger on it. Connolly had practically confessed everything in front of Rodney, so why had John the feeling that this wasn't quite over yet?

He suspected that he just felt anxious, because he wanted to put an end to this affair. Once and for all. He wouldn't sleep until he had done everything that was necessary, thus searching Connollys quarters for more evidence. He doubted that he would sleep that night at all, since he had to write a full report for the SGC.

"I just want to get this over and done with and for things to get normal again." He didn't add 'for Rodney' but he didn't need to. John was pretty sure that Elizabeth was thinking along the same lines.

"Well okay John. But I'm sending you someone who should be able to help you."

John didn't ask who she was talking about because at this moment, the doors to Connollys quarters finally swished open.

"Okay" he muttered and, without further ado, cut off the line and entered the room.

"So, you and Colonel Sheppard are good friends?"

Rodney's step faltered for a second when they exited the last transporter that they would be able to use. From now on they would have to walk through an endless maze of corridors. Good thing that Rodney knew Atlantis like the back of his hand.

"What?" he asked rather stupidly because, honestly! Where did that come from?

"Well you seem like good friends?"

"Of course we are friends! We are teammates. We have to know that the other won't trip us up when we are running from the Wraith."

Why had he even bothered to answer? Rodney didn't even know this Jackson. Saving his life was one thing, but asking about his relationship to Sheppard was another altogether!

"I know what you mean. Trust is everything. Like James trusted me..."

Rodney didn't want to see the look of pain and grief on Jacksons face, so he concentrated on his feet instead.

"Look Jackson..."

"Jack."

"Yeah, well... Jack. I'm sorry for what happened to Connolly and..." 'Hell, and I wished my apology wouldn't sound so damn forced.'

"Oh no Dr. McKay! You are in no need to apologize. James was dangerous and obviously mad. He had to be stopped!"

Rodney was appalled at the amount of venom in Jacksons voice. Hadn't this man been totally crushed about the demise of his best friend just a few minutes ago?

Before he could recover from his shock, Jackson already began to rant about everything and nothing. Rodney bit back a snort. And here he had thought that Jackson was one of the quiet ones, considering his silence in the lab.

But instead to snap at the Lieutnant to shut up, Rodney just turned him out. A technique he had perfected during the times that he'd had to safe the city and irritating Colonels seemed to think that it was a good idea to tell him every two minutes to 'hurry up'.

It wasn't worth arguing with this man and he still hadn't forgotten that, without Jackson, he might not even be here anymore.

So Jacksons theories went unheard while they immerged into darker and more deserted parts of the city.

When Sheppard entered Connollys quarters he was surprised to see how... normal it looked.

He knew that it was stupid, but he had expected to see some evidence of Connollys obsession. Maybe a little shrine in the corner, with pictures of Rodney.

"I'm watching too many movies." John muttered while he surveyed the room that didn't look much different from his own.

The bed was neatly done and except some clothes on the floor there was nothing out of order. The desk was standing right besides the bed and Sheppard almost immediately discovered the empty bottles of beer that were 'hidden' in the small gap between the bed and the desk. He counted altogether four of them and remembered that Rodney mentioned the smell of alcohol in Connollys breath (John had shuddered when he'd imagined how close someone had to come to clearly something like this).

John hadn't been too pleased when the Daedalus had brought alcohol to Atlantis. It hadn't been much, actually quite little considering the number of people that were living in the city. And John enjoyed a good beer like everyone else, so he hadn't resisted too much. But deep down, he had always feared that some wouldn't be able to control themselves.

John made a mental note that he and Elizabeth would have to work something out to control the alcohol intake of every member. He pushed the idea to the back of his mind and began to focus on his actual task.

He began to search the wardrobe, still secretly expecting to find the shrine.

What he did find were some stuffy clothes that needed to see some water. He sniffed in dissatisfaction and focused on the desk instead. It came quite as a surprise when he realized that Connolly didn't seem to own a laptop.

It wasn't actually necessary to have one, but highly uncommon not to. John frowned at the complete lack of technology in the whole room. Something was wrong with that.

He remembered how the gate technican had told him that it wasn't too hard to manipulate the video feed if you knew what you were doing. But John found it hard to believe that someone who didn't even own a laptop, could figure out how to mess with the videofeeds.

He was getting frustrated. The lack of a computer also meant that he had nothing that he could bring to said technican. Maybe they could have found something, for example the missing part of the surveillance video.

While he pondered over the missing laptop, Johns eyes fell on a letter that lay on the desktop. His heart sped up until he saw that it was just a letter that Connolly had started to write for his sister.

He picked it up and began to read the few lines. It wasn't like inviolability of the mail was an issue anymore.

But his scepticism grew even more while he read the thing.

Not a single word about Rodney.

Not that Sheppard thought that Connolly would tell his sister about his obsession with the scientist. But there wasn't even a single word about a crush he may have about a certain person. Nothing at all.

Sheppard had thought that a man with this kind of obsession wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut for too long. Especially not with family.

But all he told his sister was that he really liked it here and that the weather here was really nice (without ever mentioning where 'here' actually was) and that he couldn't wait to visit her when he was on leave next month.

Sheppard put the letter down, none the wiser than he had been before.

He started to go through the drawers until he found something that caused him to narrow his eyes once more.

God, he was going to get a headache from all the constant frowning.

He mustered the picture frame in his hand and was more confused than ever.

The picture showed a scenery off-world. The trees in the background looked alien and the sky had a unnatural green tinge. But Sheppard was more focused on the couple that posed in front of the scenery.

Lt. Connolly smiled cheekily into the camera and had an arm draped over the shoulder of a woman, who smile just as brightly. But not any woman.

Sheppard recognized Dr. Merry instantly, although it was hard to connect this happy looking woman with the impolite and grumpy person he had met in the labs.

"What the hell?"

Why was Connolly keeping a picture of himself and the woman he had supposedly just used to get to Rodney? That didn't make sense. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

What the hell was going on here?

"Do you have your radio with you Dr. McKay?"

Rodney groaned in response. And not because Jackson began to get on his nerves with his constant questions, but because he actually had forgotten his radio. Again.

Didn't he learn from his mistakes at all?

Sheppard had once threatened to super glue the little earpiece into his ear and sometimes, although Rodney would never admit it, he could understand John's exasperation.

But speaking of John... maybe it wasn't so bad that he couldn't contact him right now. Hey, maybe they would be back before Sheppard even noticed that they were gone...

"Dr. McKay?"

"What?"

"Your radio?"

Rodneys eyebrow twitched at the miffed tone in Jacksons voice. "No, but one way or another it's not necessary. Radios and sensors won't work where we are going."

"So," his escort drawled from behind him, "we will be totally marooned from the others as soon as we are there?"

Oh, God. Should Marines be such worrywarts?

"Yes we will be Lt. Obvious. But if that's a problem for you I could go alone." 'Please say yes!' "Is this a problem for you?"

And he didn't sound hopeful!

But the Lieutnant didn't seem to take the hint and just shook his head no and smiled at him.

"No. No problem at all."

"Colonel Sheppard?"

The call jerked John from his thoughts and he looked up from the picture in his hands.

In the doorway stood one of his Marines, Lt. Trend if he wasn't mistaken. She stood at attention, what looked a bit ridiculous considering that she wasn't wearing her uniform, but pajamas and slippers instead of boots. Her short hair was sticking out at odd angles and she had dark circles under her eyes. She was the poster girl for interrupted sleep.

Sheppard bit back a grin and waved at her to stay at ease.

"What can I do for you Lieutnant?"

He had expected a disgruntled answer that matched her appearance, but what he got instead was a bright smile while she entered the quarters like a duck takes to water. Her voice didn't sound sleepy at all.

"Actually Sir, I was told that I could help you."

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes. Dr. Weir sends me. She wants me to take a look at the letters."

It was obvious that she didn't really knew anything about "the letters". Her curiousity was almost palpable.

Sheppard began to reach for the letters that he was keeping in his pocket since Rodney had threatened to throw them away, but didn't pull them out.

"Why would she want that?"

Trend was already reading the letter that Connolly had written for his sister. When she answered she sounded a little bit bored. "I studied graphology before I joined the Marines." she replied without looking up. "Dr. Weir wants me to compare the handwritings of Connolly and the letters you received and see if they match."

Sheppard handed them over without further hestitation and cheered silently. 'Good idea Elizabeth.'

Trend's eyebrows disappeared under her hairline while she read the first two letters and a tinge of pink flushed her cheeks. John was just glad that Connolly had never mentioned Rodney's name. But then he remembered the rumors that were spreading through Atlantis. He would have to make sure that Trend wouldn't talk to anyone else about this.

Trend didn't utter a single word and her eyes roamed from one letter to another. She radiated a level of professionalism that John hadn't thought she was capable of.

10 minutes passed by before she seemed to come to a conclusion and spread the papers all over the desktop.

"Well the... love letters," she obviously chocked a little on the term, "are definitely from the same person who wrote the letter that we found in this room. The person who wrote them was definitely left-hander. And do you see the 'P' in every 'Precious'? It's written in one go. No breaks. That's actually fairly extraordinary for a left-hander, so it's a clear indicator. It's in every letter the same..."

John saw what she meant and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Connolly had written the letters! No doubt there. The picture of Dr. Merry in his drawer was indeed strange, but nothing more...

He was about to thank her for her efforts, when her next words stopped him cold.

"...except in this one."

Only now John realized that she hadn't spread every letter on the table. One was still in her hand. The one that Sheppard dreaded the most.

The one that had been found near the ashes that had been his jacket.

Trend continued without seeing how pale he had gone. "This one was not written by the same person that wrote the others."

"I thought that it just looked so diffent because the person had been in a hurry."

"You could think that, right?" she chattered happily. "It's such a scrawly writing and the others were so neat. But if you look closely, you'll see that this one doesn't feature a back handwriting like the others. The person who wrote this is a right-hander."

"What does that mean?"

Trend regarded him like he was a little bit slow on the uptake, but Sheppard didn't hold it against her. She didn't know how important this was. She didn't know that there was a corpse in a secluded part of the infirmary. She just didn't know...

"It means," she drawled, totally unaware how important her answer would be, "that, whoever wrote those other letters, definitely didn't write this one."

She waved said letter in front of his face and he grabbed it faster than she could look.

John stared at the taunting words, but didn't feel the desperation he had expected, but cold-blooded rage.

"He had an accomplice!"

Rodney McKay loved Atlantis, maybe even more than anyone else.

Atlantis was security. Atlantis was familiarity. Atlantis was home.

But just because he had devoted his life to this city, didn't mean that he couldn't criticize her at certain times. Like he really couldn't get friendly with her dark and vacant parts, like all those corridors they had to go through to reach their destination. Or the abandoned labs that always made him feel like a little kid again when he had to clean the moldy attic.

Yeah, he really didn't like the abandoned labs.

Almost as much as he didn't like the dusty panel that he'd had to work on for the last few minutes and that made him sneeze every so often.

But while he just kinda disliked those things, he absolutely hated the chuckle that he would hear everytime he almost sneezed his brains out.

This Jackson was really starting to piss him off. Gratitude or not.

"Damn Zelenka." he muttered to himself and blamed everyone that he could think of in his irritation. A little habit that he couldn't seem to get rid of. "Damn Miko. Damn Sheppard. Damn totally pointless power fluctuation. What is this? 'Annoy-Rodney'-week? And why didn't I get the memo?"

"I don't know Dr. McKay." came the husky reply, which was totally drowned in Rodneys annoyed groan.

"Oh my god! Ever heard of rhetorical questions?" He replaced the last damaged crystal and Rodney was satisfied to discover that the problem was fixed. "Remind me to fetch you the next time Sheppard insists that his goons aren't completely dumb."

His insult was met with a chest pressed against his back and a hum, sickenly close to his ear.

"You can come and fetch me every time you want, my precious."

A/N: Familiar much? *LOL* I kno---w it's getting old, but that's the last evil cliffhanger of this kind! Promise! The next one will be especially tricky to write...*sweat*

Thanks for over 12.000 hits for this story! *hugs everyone in one supa-dupa mega hug*