Warning! Messing with Ancient Devices(tm) is bad for one's gender identity
When Rodney heard that Carson had asked John to bring home a Wraith, he'd gone to the lab furthest from the infirmary to do his work. He still got jittery whenever he passed by the Iratus labs, whenever Carson came home from working with the damned bugs, or whenever John had been fighting the Wraith. Actually having one in the city? He really didn't want to test his resolve to stay away from the temptation.
The lab he'd chosen appeared to be a child's play room, from the assortment of devices in it. He was currently turning what appeared to be an action figure of some sort in his hands. It looked freakily like a Jedi with it's beige clothes and robes, except it had a LSD and an Ancient blaster instead of a lightsaber.
It had another small device with it that he didn't recognize and he frowned as he turned it over in his fingers. It almost looked like the activation crystal in a DHD, but he'd never seen one scaled to what this model would represent.
As he turned it, he accidently pressed it and the green jewel glowed. He had just enough time to hope that he didn't unleash something deadly before he blacked out.
---
(An hour later...)
Rodney groaned from his position on the floor. His head was killing him, his whole body ached and his chest felt like there were weights on it. Reaching up to touch the back of his head, Rodney found a good sized lump where it had impacted with the floor. He also found that his hair had grown in the...however long he'd been unconscious.
Frowning, Rodney sat up and became aware of several things at once. One, the weights on his chest shifted in a way he was only vaguely familiar with, two, the hand propping himself up was most definitely not his own and three, said weights on his chest looked scarily like breasts.
Hesitantly, Rodney pulled the neck of his shirt from his chest and looked down. He quickly let go and looked away. Okay, definitely breasts. Next, he examined his hands and found them slim, the fingers long and his nails trim. They actually reminded him of his sister's hands. A look at his watch at the same time also told him he'd been unconscious for a little over an hour. Next he reached up to pull some of his hair around in front of his face. Dark blonde like it usually was when it was long, curly as it tended to go when it was long and lots of it.
Rodney reached for the chair he'd been sitting in to help him stand and stumbled as he adjusted to his new center of balance. Well, that cinched it: he had been turned into a woman. Lovely. He looked down at himself and found that his hips were a little wider, much like they'd been a few months ago, though his waist was smaller, and his...breasts were...well. He was a big girl. Woman. Actually, he kinda thought he looked like the kind of woman in the classical paintings. Huh. Well, that was something. Maybe his drag clothes would fit and he wouldn't have to borrow stuff from Rae.
His eyes widened at that thought. Rae. "Oh god." The others. How were they going to react to this? How was Atlantis in general? Their chief scientiest had been turned into a woman! Rodney fell back into the chair and put his head in his hands. Her hands. "Oh god. This is so screwed up. My voice!" Head raising, Rodney's hand touched his...her throat. It was only a couple octaves higher, but it was a noticable difference. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."
Well, he had to go home some time. No way in hell was he going to the infirmary. Besides the Wraith issue that had led to him coming to this lab in the first place, Carson would never let him hear the end of it! Home. Wasn't Rae home right now? Yes. Rae could help him. Her. Oh god, pronouns. Him. He was Rodney Ingram McKay, dammit. He.
Resolved, Rodney stood and immediately stumbled again. Scowling, he got his balance and headed home. He was careful and managed not to run into anyone. He was a little surprised when the door to their suite still opened for him. Guess it went by DNA, which really wouldn't have changed. Huh. Cool. He'd have to tell Carson that when his husband got home.
Wanting to get into more fitting clothes--his pants and shirt both were a little tight, and his slightly smaller feet were falling out of his shoes--Rodney headed for the bedroom, not bothering to keep quiet about it.
The lab he'd chosen appeared to be a child's play room, from the assortment of devices in it. He was currently turning what appeared to be an action figure of some sort in his hands. It looked freakily like a Jedi with it's beige clothes and robes, except it had a LSD and an Ancient blaster instead of a lightsaber.
It had another small device with it that he didn't recognize and he frowned as he turned it over in his fingers. It almost looked like the activation crystal in a DHD, but he'd never seen one scaled to what this model would represent.
As he turned it, he accidently pressed it and the green jewel glowed. He had just enough time to hope that he didn't unleash something deadly before he blacked out.
---
(An hour later...)
Rodney groaned from his position on the floor. His head was killing him, his whole body ached and his chest felt like there were weights on it. Reaching up to touch the back of his head, Rodney found a good sized lump where it had impacted with the floor. He also found that his hair had grown in the...however long he'd been unconscious.
Frowning, Rodney sat up and became aware of several things at once. One, the weights on his chest shifted in a way he was only vaguely familiar with, two, the hand propping himself up was most definitely not his own and three, said weights on his chest looked scarily like breasts.
Hesitantly, Rodney pulled the neck of his shirt from his chest and looked down. He quickly let go and looked away. Okay, definitely breasts. Next, he examined his hands and found them slim, the fingers long and his nails trim. They actually reminded him of his sister's hands. A look at his watch at the same time also told him he'd been unconscious for a little over an hour. Next he reached up to pull some of his hair around in front of his face. Dark blonde like it usually was when it was long, curly as it tended to go when it was long and lots of it.
Rodney reached for the chair he'd been sitting in to help him stand and stumbled as he adjusted to his new center of balance. Well, that cinched it: he had been turned into a woman. Lovely. He looked down at himself and found that his hips were a little wider, much like they'd been a few months ago, though his waist was smaller, and his...breasts were...well. He was a big girl. Woman. Actually, he kinda thought he looked like the kind of woman in the classical paintings. Huh. Well, that was something. Maybe his drag clothes would fit and he wouldn't have to borrow stuff from Rae.
His eyes widened at that thought. Rae. "Oh god." The others. How were they going to react to this? How was Atlantis in general? Their chief scientiest had been turned into a woman! Rodney fell back into the chair and put his head in his hands. Her hands. "Oh god. This is so screwed up. My voice!" Head raising, Rodney's hand touched his...her throat. It was only a couple octaves higher, but it was a noticable difference. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."
Well, he had to go home some time. No way in hell was he going to the infirmary. Besides the Wraith issue that had led to him coming to this lab in the first place, Carson would never let him hear the end of it! Home. Wasn't Rae home right now? Yes. Rae could help him. Her. Oh god, pronouns. Him. He was Rodney Ingram McKay, dammit. He.
Resolved, Rodney stood and immediately stumbled again. Scowling, he got his balance and headed home. He was careful and managed not to run into anyone. He was a little surprised when the door to their suite still opened for him. Guess it went by DNA, which really wouldn't have changed. Huh. Cool. He'd have to tell Carson that when his husband got home.
Wanting to get into more fitting clothes--his pants and shirt both were a little tight, and his slightly smaller feet were falling out of his shoes--Rodney headed for the bedroom, not bothering to keep quiet about it.