A/N: okay, wow. So this totally wasn't finished by Halloween, but it wasn't for lack of trying, I swear. I've been having major writer's block, but my darling Fitzroy stopped me from throwing my computer off the tallest tower and helped me get the plot straightened out. I owe her about a hundred Sheppard cookies. *g*

A/N2: that, and school is a bitch.

STATUS: TBC

RATING: K+

SUMMARY: AU and SLASH McKayxSheppard A Halloween fic! Rodney and his niece Madison buy a new (but old and frankly falling down) house in a small town (cliché enough yet?), which the locals believe to be haunted. Which it most definitely is. Inspired by Rose Red.

SPOILERS: Since it's AU, nothing.

WARNINGS: A bit of swearing. Our boys have quite the potty mouth sometimes.

DISCLAIMER: Everything Stargate Atlantis related is property of MGM. I own nothing.

x x x

As the days passed, Rodney's fear and paranoia quickly turned to frustration and down right aggravation. He had finally gotten around to calling in the contractors, heating people, and his phone and internet provider. The heating and phone had gone fine, but the contractors? They were another matter all together. Not only did they demand lunch breaks—'honestly, lunch breaks? Just fix the damn hole!'—but they insisted on working everywhere Rodney was.

"Okay, that's it!"

Snapping his laptop shut, Rodney jumped up from the kitchen table and tucked the slim computer under his arm. "You idiots are driving me absolutely crazy!"

He ignored the smirks of the construction workers as he stomped off out of the kitchen and down the hall. Pausing at the base of the stairs, he yelled up, "Maddie? Come downstairs. We're going to take a trip into town." And by 'trip' I mean five minute walk. But it was better then hanging around with his ears ringing from the constant hammering.

Though he had to admit, the house was looking better. Gaping holes and crumbling brick didn't exactly make the front page of Home and Garden magazine.

"Why are we going to town?" Madison asked as she came down the stairs, a sketch book clutched in her right hand.

"Because the Neanderthals wielding hammers are driving me insane. I need somewhere quiet to work." He also wanted to be able to hear Elizabeth's sobs after he chewed her out for sending them to Origin.

"Can't I stay here?"

"Alone? With them?" Rodney scoffed and reached out to take Madison's hand. "I don't think so, little lady. Come on, I'll buy you an ice cream."

Looking slightly happier, Madison nodded and headed out of Stone Manor with her Uncle.

"Do you think we'll see Detective Sheppard?"

Rodney raised an eyebrow and glanced down at her.

"Who? Oh, the one with the funny hair." He shrugged, uncaring. "I don't know. Probably. Lord knows that man is hardly ever working."

It had only been a little less then a week since they had seen John Sheppard, and Madison had asked about him at least once a day.

"I liked him," Maddie said with a smile. "After you left before to meet the movers, he bought me a sundae."

"He bought you a sundae for breakfast? And then put the sirens on when he brought you home?" Now Rodney wanted to see the man again. To berate his parenting skills, of course. 'Not that I have any of my own…'

"Can we go back to the diner?"

Rodney raised an eyebrow and looked down at the blonde girl.

"Why? Hoping Sheppard is there?" His lips quirked teasingly. "He's a little old for you, you know."

Madison stuck out her tongue with an impish smile.

"Very funny, Uncle Mer. I just want somewhere to sit so I can finish my picture. And eat my ice cream, of course."

"Oh, of course," Rodney agreed solemnly, for you had to eat ice cream sitting down. How else could one enjoy the treat to its fullest? "And what picture are you working on?" He peered down at her closed sketch book.

Noticing his curious gaze, Maddie clutched the book tightly against her chest.

"Not until it's done."

"Alright, alright."

x x x

"—honestly, Elizabeth. You're lucky I think Atlantis Corp. will go somewhere fast or else I wouldn't be here."

Rodney rolled his eyes as the woman sighed on the other end of the phone, the sound raspy.

"I know you're not happy with the town, but it'll only be for a year or so…just until we get off the ground and into a more populated area."

"My high school was more populated."

"Rodney, please. Just deal, alright?"

Taking pity, Rodney sighed and muttered, "Fine. But I think I deserve a raise."

"You haven't even started yet," came the amused reply.

"…at least send me a housewarming present."

"How's that going by the way? The e-mail you sent didn't make it sound too great…"

Rodney slouched against the soft cushioning of the booth, his knees hitting the underside of the table.

"It's going," he answered succinctly, peering over to check on Madison who sat at the counter of the diner, drawing away in her book. A bowl of ice cream layered with sprinkles sat on her left, the chocolate slowly melting.

"That sounds promising," Elizabeth said wryly, obviously aware that Rodney's attention was elsewhere. "Well, I suppose I'll let you get back to whatever it was that you were doing. Which I suspect will include angry e-mails…"

"Hey! I only sent one!"

"Try six."

"…oh. Well, I'm sure they were well deserved."

Another amused sigh.

"I'm sure they were. I'll check in with you in a few days, Rodney. Try to enjoy yourself."

Rodney muttered back a generic reply before snapping his cell shut and slumping down once more.

"Enjoy myself."

He looked back over at Madison, a determined look pulling at his features.

"Right."

Pushing out of the booth, he made his way over to the counter to slide onto the stool next to Maddie.

The blonde girl glanced over at him before gently pushing the bowl of half-eaten ice cream over to him.

"Here, Uncle Mer. You can have the rest. I got full," she told him smartly, eyes glued to the paper.

Not one to pass up ice cream, Rodney picked up the spoon and scooped up a bite.

"How's the picture going?" he asked through a mouthful of chocolate and sprinkles.

"Almost done. Hold on…"

With forced patience, Rodney finished the ice cream and pushed away the bowl, wondering just why the heck he was sitting in a diner doing nothing but waiting for a picture by his six-year old niece.

'Because that's what I'm supposed to be doing right now.'

"Uncle Mer? I'm done."

To Rodney's surprise, he actually felt eagerness tug at him.

"Well, let's see it then."

Turning on the stool, he leaned over Madison's shoulder to peer down at the book.

He stared, then frowned.

"That's very…creative."

'This is some way of dealing with Jeannie's death, right?'

Though the woman on the paper had little resemblance to his sister.

"Maybe you should explain this to me," Rodney advised.

Madison smiled and nodded, eager to finally share her picture.

Her small finger pointed to a young girl that definitely resembled the artist herself in bed.

"That's me in my new room. See? I even put in the crack in the paint."

Rodney eyed the jagged line that marred one side of the drawn in wall.

"So you did. Continue."

His niece pointed to the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand on Madison's shoulder.

"That's the woman who helps me to sleep every night. She calls me Alice."

'Come again?'

"…why does she call you Alice?" Rodney questioned after a few beats of silence, slightly wide eyes glued to the paper.

Madison shrugged, absently shading in a few areas here and there.

"I don't know. She just does."

Another thought struck Rodney.

"This—this is from one of your stories right? Those little plays you write? You know, a scene or something?"

Madison laughed and shook her head.

"No, silly. I told you, she helps me go to sleep every night. Like yesterday after you tucked me in."

She turned back to her picture to resume shading, not noticing the wide-eyed look on her uncle.

'Son of a bitch. When she said 'we' before, I didn't think…'

Well, honestly. Who would have thought it was a ghost she was referring to?

'There's no such thing as ghosts. She six, her parents just died, and she's imagining things. That's it.'

While Rodney argued with himself, he stared down at the drawn woman. The clothes she wore were old. 1800's old. There was no way Madison would be able to know with such accuracy what women wore back then, let alone what a bodice was.

The hair on the back of his neck practically stood on end, the sound of Madison's pencil scratching against the paper absurdly loud. His stomach flopped nervously, suddenly getting the feeling that he was being watched.

'Oh great, now I'm all creeped out! I'm never getting to sleep tonight. And I'm calling Elizabeth to—'

The hand clamping down on his shoulder jolted the scientist out of his thoughts with an admittedly girlish scream. Sending the ice cream bowl flying, he spun around on the stool, nearly falling off, to come face to face with an extremely amused looking John Sheppard.

"Wow, someone's jumpy today. Rough night?"

Rodney tried to scowl, but ended up keeping his 'deer-in-the-head-lights' expression firmly in place.

"What the hell is your problem, sneaking up on people like that?!"

Madison tugged on her Uncle's sleeve, glancing around embarrassedly.

"Uncle Mer, everyone's staring…"

With a whoosh of breath, Rodney finally scowled successfully as he turned to look at everyone.

And by everyone, he meant the old couple, the waitress, and the kid playing pinball.

"Get back to whatever you were doing!" he snapped without thinking. Years in a lab with incompetents did that to a guy.

Sliding onto the stool beside the heavily breathing Rodney, John smiled lazily and put his chin on his palm.

"So what's got you in a tizzy?"

Rodney slumped back down and huffed.

"I'm not in a tizzy. You just startled me, that's all."

"Uh-huh, tell that to the bowl you just murdered. I should arrest you," Sheppard said before languidly peering over the scientist's shoulder. "Hey there, little lady. Watcha got there?"

Madison smiled proudly, cheeks slightly aflame. She held up the drawing, practically thrusting it into John's nose.

Sheppard 'hmm'ed and nodded appreciatively.

"That's a great picture of Prudence, Maddie. Very cool."

"Thanks, Mr. Sheppard. I don't think Uncle Mer liked it that much."

Rodney spluttered, straightening up to defend his honour.

"What are you talking about? I said it was creative!"

Before Madison could retort, Rodney paused and did a double take, his blue eyes on John.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

John stared at him, a wary, 'is this a trick question?' expression on his face.

"That it was a cool picture?"

"No, no. Before that," Rodney insisted impatiently. "The woman. You called her Prudence."

"So?"

With an annoyed sigh, McKay rubbed the bridge of his nose and counted to ten.

"...SO, why did you call her that? How did you know it was her? And why would Madison draw her?"

Now looking thoroughly confused, John raised an eyebrow and answered, "Because that's her name, that's what she looks like, and how the heck should I know?"

A sudden sly smile crossed the detective's face.

"Maybe Madison's been seeing her. A ghostly Prudence Stone tucking the little girl in at night whilst her Uncle sleeps soundly in the next room..." He wiggled his fingers in Rodney's face, trying to hold back a laugh.

Slapping his hands away, Rodney scowled and snapped, "Oh, can it. I'm going to have enough trouble getting to sleep as it is. And for the fourth time, there's no such thing as ghosts!"

"Oh? And how do you know, Mr. Scientist?"

Rodney smiled challengingly.

"Fine, I'll prove it to you. Madison, you said she comes to you every night, right?" When he received and absent nod from the girl, he turned back to John. "So tonight, you come over at around eight, we tuck Madison in, sit back, and wait. And if this 'Prudence' doesn't show, which I highly assume will be the case, no one ever speaks about ghosts in my house again."

John grinned, intrigued.

"And if she does show?"

"...you carry a gun, right?"

"I don't think you can shoot a ghost. I think you're supposed to use salt."

"Salt? What the hell would salt do? You should use—you know what? I'm not talking about this."

x x x

"I can't believe I'm talking about this."

It was eight pm on the dot, and both John and Rodney were perched on the end of Madison's bed. Much to Rodney's dismay, they were passing the time by arguing about the correct way to kill a ghost.

Madison didn't look too thrilled either.

"Uncle Mer, I really don't think this will work," she complained as she sat up and moodily pushed down the blankets. "I just want to go to sleep!"

"She's right," John said with a firm nod.

Rodney sighed with relief.

"Great. Now that we've all decided that ghosts don't exist, let's—"

"It'll never come with us in the room," interrupted John while Madison nodded eagerly. She just wanted the two adults to get the heck out of her room. "We'll have to stake it out. Maybe leave the door open a crack or something while we wait in the hall."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"I think it's a great idea," John defended with a pout, his gravity defying hair seemingly deflating.

"Oh, for—stop pouting. You're a grown adult. And a cop."

"Uncle Mer," Madison whined loudly, flopping back and stuffing the pillow over her face. "I juft wanf to fo to fleep!"

"So would I," Rodney muttered before standing up. "Alright, we'll leave. I have some work to do anyways." Leaning down, he gave the top of Madison's frizzy hair a pet before saying his goodnights and heading out into the hall.

When he realized John hadn't followed, he stalked back into the room and grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Let's go, Detective. There's nothing to see here. Go back to your homes and all that."

John sighed and let Rodney drag him out of the room, though he did manage to leave the door open a few inches.

"Fine. I get it. You're too scared." He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. "I don't blame you. Well, I'll just be heading home now."

Rodney watched as John wandered over to the large staircase down the hall, his eyes narrowed.

"I know what you're doing," he stated, slowly following the cop. "You're lighting a fire under my ego."

Sheppard paused and glanced over his shoulder with a bit of a grin.

"Is it working?"

"...yes," came the muttered reluctant reply.

"Great!"

Bounding up the few steps he managed to make it down, John strode over to Rodney, grabbed his arm, and started off down the hall back the way they came.

"You know, for a cop you sure are eager to get into trouble," Rodney said wryly.

"So you admit that something's going to happen?"

"I admit nothing."

x x x

After finding a suitable hiding spot--a small alcove just down the hall--, Rodney and John settled down on the cold hardwood flooring to wait.

And wait.

"Shift over. Your elbow's jabbing me in the side."

"How do you know that's my elbow?"

"...you're an idiot, Sheppard."

Ten long minutes passed in silence, the occasional sigh from Rodney telling John that he was still awake.

"So, why do you think there's this random alcove here?" asked John, eyeing their small space. "Who puts a gaping area in the middle of a wall?"

"I would hardly call this 'gaping'," Rodney muttered, his knees pressed to his chest. "And how the hell would I know? Do I look like an architect?"

John waited patiently, knowing the scientist had an answer in there somewhere.

After a few minutes, Rodney predictably huffed and said, "It probably held a statue or bust or something."

"Suit of armour?"

"If you like."

"You're rather crabby. Well, more then usual."

Rodney scowled at John through the darkness.

"Of course I'm crabby! I'm staking out my niece's room for a ghost! Not to mention having to be stuck in this stupid tiny space with a crazy-haired cop!"

"Detective."

"Whatever!"

Another pause.

"...chicks dig my hair."

"Argh!"

x x x

"...so Madison seems to be a bit happier."

"Uh-huh."

"Has she met any other kids?"

"No."

"Well, aren't you a Chatty Cathy."

"Shut up."

x x x

"...I spy with my little eye—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll stab you with your own elbow."

x x x

"...I don't call my brother or father very often. Though to be honest, I don't really miss them all that much."

"I'm not having a heart-to-heart with you."

A pause.

"...something that is blue?—Ow!"

x x x

"...I have this small problem with claustrophobia."

"Well, that explains a few things."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

x x x

"So, how did your sister and brother-in-law die?"

John expected only silence, so he was surprised when Rodney's voice cropped up from the darkness a few minutes later.

"Caleb died when Madison was three. Terminal illness. She doesn't remember him all that much."

Rodney shifted around, stretching out a leg until his foot hit the wall opposite him beside John's arm.

"Jeannie, my sister, was in a car accident a few months ago. Some idiot ran a red. Side on collision. She died instantly." There was a pause before he added, "I was appointed Madison's guardian, should anything happen to Jeannie."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

x x x

"...I'm divorced."

A snort came from Rodney's vicinity.

"Who the hell would divorce you?"

"What makes you think she was the one who—" John paused before saying with a large grin, "Was that a compliment?"

"...no more talking."

x x x

"...Rodney?"

A sigh.

"What?"

"It's almost midnight. Maybe we should pack it in."

"Does that mean I win?"

"Yeah, yeah. No more talking about ghosts."

With some difficulty, John stood and stretched his arms above his head, every bone imaginable cracking loudly.

"Eugh." Rodney's nose scrunched up. "Do you know how bad that was for our backs? I'm going to be popping Advil for days!"

"Complain, complain, McKay. Is that all you do?"

Reaching down, Sheppard grabbed the scientist's arms and hauled him up.

"You've known me for two weeks now. What do you think?"

John smiled lazily and shrugged, green eyes finding Rodney's baby blues easily.

"I don't know, McKay. You're a hard guy to figure out."

"That's what everyone says."

After sighing exaggeratedly, Rodney turned on the spot and started trekking off towards Madison's room for one final check before turning in himself.

"McKay?"

"Oh, for—what?"

A hand on his upper arm stopped him, fingers curled firmly around the limb.

He turned to find John gazing behind them with a perplexed look.

"What's the matter?" Rodney asked, eyes darting around. "What? What?"

"Notice anything weird?"

"Aside from everything?"

John's hard stare made the man sigh and look around suspiciously. Everything looked normal. Well, as normal as the house could get. They were at the end of the hall, staring back at where they had come from, the small alcove just barely visible. The hall seemed to stretch on forever.

Literally.

It finally dawned on Rodney.

"Where—where'd Madison's door go?" In fact, where did any of the doors go?

Vertigo crashed down on him, sending the scientist tilting into the wall.

John shook his head, blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on one spot instead of the constantly lengthening hall. An odd groaning sound echoed, almost as if the wood was screaming in protest.

"This isn't normal," he mumbled out, absently dropping a hand to his hip where his sidearm would have been.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Rodney slurred before he thumped to the floor, down for the count.

John managed to take a step before dropping like a sack of bricks. In his mind's eye, he could still see the door at the end of the hall growing smaller and smaller as it got further away. Just as nausea started to squirm in his stomach, relief in the form of unconsciousness took over and everything went black.

x x x

A/N: well, I kinda made myself nauseous with that last bit by just picturing it. Sad, I know, haha.

Apologies that this took so long to get out! And thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, and story-alerted this fic!