A/N: Thanks for the wonderful response. For my regular readers I'm trying out some different things so I ask you to stick with me. Thanks Destiny Brighthope, Betherdy Babe and Dwparsnip for your assistance.

This chapter is definitely T because of what it alludes to. Sorry, kidos, cover your eyes ;-D

I need to comment about Rodney's email from last chapter as many of you thought I made a mistake. I deliberately put RM, because there is no way Rodney would let anyone know his name and he could create his own alias if he wanted to.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Rodney held his hand to the bump forming on his forehead. He never thought Ulyana aim would be that good while drunk. I guess she holds her vodka better than she let on. The string of curses that she threw at him, along with the empty vodka bottle that hit his head, included a few new ones he hadn't heard before. Rodney pushed himself off of the couch and grabbed his pants on the way to the bathroom for some painkillers.

Doctor Ulyana Lutrova was an engineering Post-doctoral Fellow at the university who was enlisted by the Russian Stargate program to assist Rodney with calculations regarding the new naquadah generators he was installing. The woman made it clear when she showed up last month that she wanted Rodney as more than a boss. She had short blond hair, green eyes and was built like a Bond girl, all attributes the physicist liked in a woman, so she was hard to ignore.

After avoiding her for a month because Rodney never got involved with a subordinate, his own needs got the best of him. Earlier tonight they went to a bar and then came back to his place. Big mistake, McKay. He normally never let women know where he lived but it was too late. His loneliness and frustration had gotten the best of him.

Once they were alone Ulyana got down to the real reason she was there and Rodney didn't try to stop her. He was able to relax and let his mind drift off to the place it always went the last five months: a restaurant in Red Square where he glimpsed a perfect woman. Once he imagined the American physician with her long blond hair, chocolate-colored eyes and an air of innocence, it was too late.

"Damn you, Jennifer Keller, or whatever your name was," he muttered to himself as he searched for pain medicine and then looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was too long and needed to be cut. He'd put on a few pounds because the food wasn't as bad as he thought it would be and it made his face fuller. Lifting his bangs to see the red mark on his forehead, he cursed like Ulyana did earlier when he called Jennifer's name.

"Who is Jennifer?" Ulyana spat. "A wife in America!"

Rodney didn't reply fast enough to satisfy the Russian so she flung the bottle at him. He managed to turn his head so it didn't hit him straight on. His visitor grabbed her coat and slammed the door continuing to curse about married men.

Once he got the painkillers and sat down on his bed to look at his laptop, he let out a few of his own Russian curses at the memory of a woman who'd affected him so much and then vanished into thin air. Slumping back against his pillows he noticed that there were still no emails in his external account. It became a habit to check several times a day the first few weeks and now he found himself only doing it at night.

It wasn't like he'd never been rejected before, but Jennifer seemed so genuine. He was surprised that she wasn't affected by his arrogance - she laughed at it. Jennifer Keller was intelligent, kind-hearted and beautiful. We clicked instantaneously so of course it was too good to be true.

Rodney fought the frustration that consumed him because he'd couldn't get a woman, who obviously wasn't interested in him, out of his head. As he thought of their encounter, his phone rang. Groaning at the incompetents in the lab disturbing him at night, he snapped, "What?"

"Doctor McKay, we need you to return to Cheyenne Mountain as soon as possible. A car will be there in twenty minutes," Sergeant Walter Harriman said.

At least one pretty blond needs me. Rodney smirked as he grabbed his suitcase from the closet and started packing.

Jennifer pulled on a fluffy pink bathrobe and sat on her hotel bed. She let out a sigh after inhaling the fruity scent of her bubble bath, which still clung to her skin. It was the first time she had a long, warm bath full of bubbles in five months. "Ah, civilization," she moaned to herself as she waited for the WiFi to connect on her new laptop.

Now that she was settled, she allowed her mind to drift to her favorite memory, blue eyes, an expressive face and unruly hair that haunted her sleep for months. Even though they'd spent so little time together, no man ever affected her as Doctor Rodney McKay did.

And no man ever angered her father so greatly. Once they left the restaurant Jennifer had never seen her father that mad and disappointed with her. The elder Keller raved about how stupid she was to dine with a stranger. Since she became a teenager her father always told her men only wanted sex from beautiful women and said that this man definitely fit that category.

"You're intelligence scare men off, so any man who sticks around only wants to get in your pants." Her father never held anything back and was often crude to make his point.

Years of over-reaction by her father to any man who tried to befriend her left Jennifer leery of making male friends. She was busy enough with school that she didn't need angst with her father in the midst of her studies. But now she felt the need to disobey her father and contact the man who showed no fear in his presence, a man that dared to kiss her under the brown-eyed glare of Brian Keller.

It was the brief kiss to her cheek - right in front of her ear - that consumed her nightly fantasies. It wasn't a friendly peck. No, this was a pressing of lips to her face and sliding them over to whisper his email address into her ear. It had made her shiver all the way to her toes.

RMMcKay at USAF dot gov had become a mantra she chanted regularly to calm herself during her five month assignment in the rough regions of the Caucasus Mountains in Southern Russia. The days were grueling, but it was satisfying to help people who might die without the care she and the team of doctors brought to them.

Opening her email she typed in Rodney's email and started to compose.

Dear Rodney,

"Does that sound too formal?" Jennifer often spoke aloud when alone because it helped her keep the ideas straight in her brain, which was always going at a hundred-miles-per-hour.

Hello Rodney,

"Better," she muttered as a thought suddenly hit her. .gov? Shouldn't it be .mil? Her heart thundered in her chest. Did he lie and give me a bogus email? Panic spread through her at the thought that her father was right; he only wanted one thing and wasn't going to get it so he blew her off.

No. He stood up to your father for no reason. Her head spun for a few moments before her calm personality prevailed. No one is going to give you a bogus email if you don't want it. You didn't ask for it, he knew you were leaving and wanted to talk to you in the future.

Taking a deep breath she continued.

I realized this might not be a legitimate email because the military does not use gov to my knowledge for their emails. If this email does not reach a blue-eyed rocket scientist I met in Moscow, please delete. If this is Rodney, please continue to read.

Hoping Rodney would get a chuckle and also realize she wasn't some dumb blond who didn't know anything about email, Jennifer launched into a heart-felt apology for not contacting him and for her father's rude behavior.

It's been me and my father since I was a kid. He's very protective and always wants me to keep focused on the goal, which is to be the Chief of Medicine at John Hopkins or Mass General or some other world-renowned hospital. It takes a great deal of dedication and balance in my career to get there. The last thing he wanted we me to get distracted by friends and other things. It's why I'm taking two years to do Doctors Without Borders. Dad said it'd show I care about the medicine and not the money, which is true. This little bleeding-heart really does want to save the world one patient at a time.

Jennifer smiled again as she remembered teasing him about his smartest man comment. Saying a silent prayer that he wasn't a fraud, she continued to tell him about her assignment and ask about his own.

After writing for another ten minutes, Jennifer realized she had no idea how to end the email: Regards was too formal and sounded cold, Jennifer made her think that Rodney would think she didn't know how to sign it, Yours sounded desperate.

"Come on, Keller, you're over thinking this." She stared out the window of her hotel room in the Charles Hotel in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts and begged for inspiration.

Take care,

Jennifer

"I care because I'm a doctor so it shouldn't sound too weird," she said as she proof-read, re-edited and then hit send before she chickened out.

She closed her laptop and turned on the television to distract her. It didn't work; neither did reading nor working on her presentation for Monday. Several times during the night she'd put the laptop away and then pull it out to see if the email bounced or if she got a reply.

At 7am her wake-up call came and a sleepy Jennifer Keller stumbled out of bed and off to the hotel gym. Staring at her laptop she debated if she should check her email and decided she would. It was late afternoon in Moscow so Rodney could be getting off work.

Depression set in when she saw no reply to her email from ten hours ago. Squeezing her eyes shut as her father's voice echoed through her head, Jennifer grabbed a t-shirt and shorts to get ready for a long, hard workout.

On her way out of the room, her cell phone rang. For a second her heart skipped a beat but then she remembered that she'd never given Rodney her phone number. Picking up the phone she saw the number was blocked, but it could be important so she answered.

TBC