WIP Amnesty Day (SGA)
So, it's WIP amnesty weekend again and earlier today I thought to myself, self, you know, you really don't have anything to post, do you? Because a) all of my current WIPs are multi-chaptered fics which I really, really am going to finish sometime this decade, and b) there's a pretty good reason most of the stuff in my in progress folder has not made it out for public consumption. As in, I should really just move it to the trash bin right now and wipe it's existance from my brain.
In looking back through a few of them, though, I found some bits and pieces which don't make me cringe too terribly, most of which just stalled out and I didn't care enough to try to force them. All SGA. Surprise, surprise.
Rodney said, "Okay, no." Then, a moment later, "Okay, Colonel, no really, which part of *no* did you not understand," to which Sheppard said, "Come on, Rodney. How many times has Teyla helped us out of a jam."
He was giving Rodney that pleading look of his now, charming enough to make a thousand alien priestesses fall at his feet, but Rodney, not being an alien priestess, was pretty sure that he’d be able to resist it. When Sheppard spoke again, though, there was a lilt to his voice, probably meant to sound enticing, and his eyes were starting to take on a cunning gleam, and Rodney began to get a little worried. He had a right to be, because the next thing that Sheppard said was, "Besides, McKay, you’re the smartest person that any of us know. We need you out there."
Rodney drew himself up as tall as he could and said, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sheppard," but that was a lie and they both knew it. They both knew that Sheppard had already won. Really, there was only one thing left for Rodney to say.
He sighed. "So, when are we leaving?"
*
And that was how Rodney ended up on planet M3X-878, dressed in a *bathrobe*.
It wasn’t just an ordinary bathrobe either, oh no. No, it edged with gold painted lace and tied with a length of gold painted chain. At least, Sheppard had told him before they left, the bathrobe was a manly blue color, not pink or purple or covered with pastel butterflies or something.
He should be grateful for the small things, Sheppard had said, but Rodney had just glared at him and said, "I’m going off world in a *bathrobe*, Colonel. Don’t talk to me about *small things*."
For once, the door didn’t open to John’s touch, so he knocked and then, after Rodney’s muffled "*Who’s there*?", he said, "McKay, c’mon. Open the damn door already," and amazingly enough he did. It just slid right open beneath John’s palm, smooth and easy.
He stepped inside.
"Okay, okay," he said. "I’m here. Care to tell me what was so urgent that I had to cut short a breakfast meeting with Dr. W-" which transitioned quickly into, "Whoa there." Because that was when he caught sight of Rodney.
Sitting on his bed.
Dressed only in a white towel. Which, being military issue, John knew for a fact was not nearly as large as any of them might have wished for it to be.
He said, "Jesus, McKay. Put some clothes on, would you?" to which Rodney replied, "Believe me, Colonel, I would if I could," which gave John the excuse that he’d been looking for to look *away* from Rodney in his towel. He looked at Rodney’s closet instead, with its conveniently open doors, which showed, indeed, that all of the shelves and hangers were empty and bare.
"This is where I say, ‘ha, ha, funny joke, now tell your men to give me my clothes back,’" Rodney said, which made John look back at him again.
"And what makes you think that it was my men who pulled this stunt?" he asked. "I can think of 40 people in the science department alone who would have had more motive than any *one* of my men." He paused for a moment, then smirked. "More motive than I’d have had, even."
Rodney narrowed his eyes and tugged the edges of his towel even more tightly together around his waist. "Again I say, ‘ha, ha, very funny.’ But what I want to know is this: *what are you going to do about it*?"
Before John could ask, *well, what do you *want* me to do about it*? his radio sounded. "This is Sheppard," he said.
"John," Elizabeth said. "It seems that we have a bit of a situation."
*
Elizabeth saying ‘A bit’, John thought, might have been understating the situation, well, *a bit*, because they were now sitting in the dining hall-the only place in the habitated part of Atlantis big enough to hold them all. And by ‘them all’, John meant ‘all of the people who’s clothing had somehow disappeared during the night.’ Because there were a lot of them: 10 scientists, including Kavanagh (which eliminated John’s first suspect as to whom had committed Rodney’s theft), 20 of his military personnel, 4 Athosians who were visiting from the mainland, and 7 of Beckett’s staff.
All of them were dressed now, at least, but as he stood at the front of the room next to Elizabeth, tall and still, trying not to squirm under their accusing gazes, he felt almost guilty that he’d woken up to find clothes in his closet, or *hell*, clothes on him.
"None of you heard anything last night," Elizabeth said, looking frazzled. "No doors opening, no odd sounds that you just didn’t pay attention to."
"That’s what we’ve been saying, Dr. Weir," Kavanagh said. "It’s what we’ve each said *three times already*."
"I am aware of that, Doctor," she answered, "but if you just try to think back, try to-"
"This is why it couldn’t have been one of the scientists," Rodney interrupted, looking straight at John. "Because we are scientists. We are not trained for the stealth that a prank-or should I call it a full-on assault-such as this would require. I’m sure that there’s no need for me to remind you that your military personnel *are*."
"But who’s to say that you scientists didn’t develop an invisibility cloak or something," one of John’s men said, and John cringed. Thems, as his father would have said, were fighting words. They might as well have been kindling.
Rodney raised his hand and flapped it in front of his face once, as if batting the question away, and John cringed again. "Oh please. If I haven’t been able to-"
And that, John thought, is the spark.
Around him, the whole room seemed to explode.
"People!" Elizabeth shouted. "People, enough!"
She stopped shouting then, though, because her radio clicked, John was close enough to hear it. He was also close enough to hear what the person on the other end of the connection said.
"Enough!" he shouted. If he hadn’t been in the dining hall, or in the city at all, or somewhere where they had more than limited ammo, he might have shot his gun in the air. When that didn’t work, he stomped his foot on the ground and said, "Attention!" as loudly as he could, and his men were well trained enough to respond to that, even in the heat of battle. Once they stopped yelling, the scientists faded out, and Beckett’s people retreated back to their table, and the Asthosians dropped out of their fighting stances.
He continued more softly. "I believe that Dr. Weir has something to tell you."
Elizabeth nodded her thanks, then turned back to the crowd. "It seems," she said, "that while we’ve been here, discussing this, more articles of clothing have been disappearing from all around the city-at least five more closets have been found empty, and those that have been in their rooms at the time have suddenly found themselves, well, undressed."
There were firm nods coming from people in all corners of the room. Yes, that’s exactly what happened, those nods were saying, even though John knew that these people couldn’t know for sure. They’d been asleep at the time of the theft, after all, and the whole point was that they *hadn’t woken up*.
"Lt. Perry," Elizabeth continued, "is perhaps our best witness. Her closet door was open when the disappearance occurred. She was looking at it one moment, turned away again, and then the next, everything was gone."
"So you’re saying that no one entered the room," Kavanagh said. "That’s impossible. It must have been more than a moment that she-" while Zelenka said, "Well, yes, of course, it only makes sense," and he, of course, was whom everyone chose to listen to.
"What do you mean, Dr. Zelenka?" Elizabeth asked, but Zelenka chose just to look at Rodney, and they did that whole communication thing they did-except this time, with hardly any words. Just with looks, challenge given-do you understand?-and challenge met-a light dawning in Rodney’s eyes.
John wished the light would dawn in his eyes. He wanted to understand, too.
"On the last planet," Zelenka said. "Do you remember? You were telling me?"
Rodney said, "Huh. *Maybe*." Then he stood up from his table and said, "Elizabeth. Colonel. If we could have a moment?"
There was a general grumbling from around the room at that point, but Elizabeth waved them all quiet and motioned for John, for Rodney and Zelenka to follow her out into the hallway.
Once there, she said, "Okay, care to fill me in on what’s going on here? Rodney? Dr. Zelenka? John?"
John made a motion to show that he was just as clueless as she was, and then Zelenka and Rodney both started babbling together, but not in unison, so the only words John really caught were ‘planet’ and ‘creature’ and ‘teleport’ and then he said, "Okay, wait. Slow down. *Teleporting*?"
"Yes," Rodney said. "You remember on our last mission? How we were being followed around by all of those little squirrel creatures? And how we’d lose them whenever we crossed over those streams, but then not five minutes later they’d be right behind us again? Remember how we figured it must be a new group of them every time, because they would never cross the water?"
They hadn’t, John remembered. They’d just stood there chittering and hopping up and down on their little spindly legs, waving their too large ears in his team’s direction direction.
"And remember how they always looked the same?"
John nodded. They had always looked the same. Ten of them chubby little guys, twenty of them not so much, half-ish always red-brown, half black. Occasionally there had seemed to be more, occasionally less, but they had looked similar enough that even Teyla had thought to comment on it.
"And how two of my MREs went missing, but we found the empty slashed wrappers on the way back to the Jumper? How you *told me I must have *dropped* them*?"
John nodded again, hesitantly. Because yes, he remembered that conversation quite well. And it was not a supremely fond memory. *I bet they stole them from me,* Rodney had said at the time, and John had answered, *Well, how do you suppose they did that?*
Why Rodney hadn’t posited the telekinetic squirrel option then, he didn’t know, but if Rodney and Zelenka were right about this-which he was sure of, because they always were-he wouldn’t stop hearing about it for *years* to come.
"Let me see if I’m understanding you here," Elizabeth said slowly. "You’re saying that we brought one of these creatures back with us."
"Yes," Rodney said, looking to Radek for confirmation. "That’s what I’m saying."
That, apparently, was enough to convince Elizabeth, no matter how unlikely it sounded. It was enough to convince John, too, but mainly because he couldn’t think of a more logical explanation. *Clothes* were disappearing out of *closets* and off of *people* who were in the same vicinity, after all, so why shouldn’t the answer be telekinetic squirrels?
"Why didn’t any of the sensors pick up on this, though?" Elizabeth asked. "Shouldn’t we have known that it came back through the Gate with us? Shouldn’t the city have told us? Have shut down in some way?"
"It probably didn’t view it as being a threat to the city," Rodney said. "As for why we didn’t know it was here-"
"The sensors are tuned high enough to find any Wraith that may invade the city with us unawares," Zelenka said, "but we did not set it so high as to monitor small creatures. If we set it that high, we will be marking every fish that swims in the ocean. We did not see the need."
"-which is all well and good," John said, "but that still doesn’t answer the most pressing question in my mind. Why is it stealing our clothing?"
Again, Rodney and Zelenka looked at one another, but for once they didn’t start speaking. Instead, Zelenka shrugged and said, "It is one of life’s great mysteries, yes?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said. Then, "So let’s go find our missing clothes."
"I don’t know if I want to now," Rodney said. "Who knows what sorts of nefarious things the squirrels have done to them."
"It has the possibility of being most tragic," Zelenka agreed, nodding seriously.
*
Tragic was not the word that John would have used to describe it. Aww-inducingly cute, maybe, in that Disney cartoon sort of way, because this is what they found: five of the squirrel creatures with their too-large ears in a storage closet just outside the inhabited part of the city. Three of them were stationed at the door of the closet, while two of them were curled up at the top of a huge pile of clothing, sound asleep.
The three guards started in with their chittering again, hopping up and down in great agitation, and John couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It was just too… cute.
They say to him, "Dr. Zelenka." They say, "May we call you Radek?" They say, "You see, Radek, we have an extraordinary opportunity for you here and if you’ll just go ahead and sign this stack of papers three inches thick, we’ll tell you all about it."
Some days, Radek wishes that he did not sign.
Some days, he thinks that he would be better off back at University, in Czech Republic, or maybe in United States. He thinks of teaching. He thinks of late nights in lab, awake only because of too strong coffee and cold food in takeout containers. He remembers office hours with lines of students who did not do reading and department meetings, and sometimes even, he remembers these fondly. He will admit to thinking these things, yes, but he will say it is only when he is in imminent danger of being dead. Only when death is two steps away, staring at him over the barrel of energy pulse weapon of alien origin.
As it is now.
This, as saying goes, *this* he did not sign up for, but he knows it is part of package. It is wrapped up in bow with Ancient technology and 10,000-year old city and enough new discovery that Radek goes to blissed out happy place every time he thinks on it. Most days, he thinks it is worth the risk.
Most days, if not today.
Then the time for thinking is over, because the alien-he looks like steroid-abusing bodybuilder, except red muscles show through skin-waves the energy weapon at him and says something in alien language. Teyla translates.
She says, "They would like you to go back through the ‘Gate, Doctor Zelenka, back to Atlantis. They would like you to deliver their demand to Dr. Weir."
Their demand is weapon. Big weapon. An energy weapon bigger than gun, big enough to make house disappear, maybe whole city block, Radek decided as he looked at plans earlier, before pulse weapons appeared in alien hands, and Radek is the only one who can build such a thing, or so they think. That is what Major Sheppard told Teyla to tell them, anyway. That Radek can build it, but he needs to be back in city, with necessary materials and ingredients.
"Go," the Major says. "We’ll be fine. We’re just collateral." He waits for Radek to nod before he continues. "This is a lot like what happened on the Genii planet, actually, and you might mention that to Ford and McKay when you get back to the other side."
Radek nods again, although he does not know what Major Sheppard is talking about. He remembers problem with Genii, obviously, with C-4, and soldiers dressed as farmers, and all of the problems that came later, but that is all. Really, he prefers not to think of Genii at all.
The alien is speaking more, pointing to sky, and Radek’s gaze follows the brown-nailed finger up to red sun.
Teyla says, "You will have nine moon cycles to build the weapon. You will return alone. And then we will be released, by his honor."
If situation was different, Radek would say exactly what he thinks of alien honor (in Czech, of course), but he is being herded towards Gate, with two aliens behind him, and all he can do is nod at the Major one more time.
Rodney, Radek decides as he dials Atlantis, is never allowed to be sick again.
i.
It is not the first time that Teyla has been down to the labs, of course, but it *is* the first time since she and Rodney-
Since they’ve stared this-
It *is* the first time that she has been down to the labs without a specific purpose, without a specific question, and it shows, she thinks, because as the door slides shut behind her, she finds herself the focus of many stares. There is a nearly audible pause in the room, an almost deafening moment of silence, and, Teyla thinks, if she were the sort to blush, to feel embarrassment at such attention, she would no doubt be doing so.
She is not, however, and so she just stares back. Returns each inquiring gaze with a smile and a nod. Looks around for Rodney, because, of course, he is the reason that she is here. He was the one to suggest that this be the place for them to meet in the first place, after all.
("I, um. I have a tendency to get rather caught up in my work," he said, then blushed. Stammered a bit. "But you know that already. Of course, you do. What I’m trying to say is, if you show up, I’ll know it’s time to go. I won’t be able to say, ‘just five more minutes,’ which will turn into an hour and-"
"Okay," Teyla said, running the tips of her fingers down his arm until they touched his palm, until she could give his hand a squeeze. "I will come to you.")
She does not see him, though, and also, she does not hear him, and that is how she knows that he is not here, even before she sees Dr. Zelenka hurrying over. He is carrying a clipboard, and he has a pen stuck behind his ear, and he is saying, "Teyla, Rodney is on his way. There was power fluctuation down on East Pier this afternoon, but he is coming, he is on his way, returning. He tells me that if you would prefer not to wait, though, he can meet you in your quarters, later? He tells me that it will not be long."
Teyla nods, says, "Thank you, Dr. Zelenka, but I think that I will wait. I am in no hurry."
Zelenka blinks for a moment, as if surprised by her answer, but then he shakes his head, and says, "Then, please. Make yourself comfortable. What is it that they say? Make yourself at home?"
"I will," Teyla says, smiling, and she begins looking around the room for a place to sit.
There are lab benches everywhere, glassware and machines with red and green flashing lights and arm-length after arm-length of rubber tubing. It is evening, so the lab is not as full of scientists as it would have been during the day, but there are still many there, those who have not yet gone to the dining hall, who have not yet stopped for the day. This time as her eyes pass over them, Teyla watches as they jerk back to their work, as if they had not realized they were listening in on her conversation with Dr. Zelenka.
Finally she spots an unused desk off to the side of the room, yet near to the door, the chair in front of it not covered by folders and papers and lab coats as so many of the chairs in the room, she sees, are. So she heads towards it, sits down. Spins the chair so she is facing the door, but after a moment, begins spinning in the opposite direction again, surveying the lab, Rodney’s domain.
She watches as Dr. Zelenka heads back to his work, as others return to what they are doing, too. Some people are staring at stacks of paper, quickly flipping back and forth between pages. Others are pushing buttons on machines, then making notes on clipboards they hold in their hands. Still others are looking at liquids in glass vials, swirling them around, adding ingredients from other vials. It is busy, and looks to be productive, no matter that Teyla has no idea what they are doing.
As she looks, she sees some of the scientists casting surreptitious glances in her direction. Dr. Kavanagh is by far the worst, but only because his glances are blatant stares. Mostly confused, a little condescending, but she does not take offense to the last, because that, she knows, is how he *always* looks. And he is one of those, Rodney has told her, that does not understand why she is with Rodney, like she is.
("And you know what I told him?" Rodney said over dinner, his knee pushed up against hers beneath the table. "I said, ‘ I’m as surprised as anyone, but you know what? I, at least, have a good *reason* to be surprised about it, and you don’t, so why don’t you, I don’t know, do some actual *work*?’"
He took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed heavily for a few moments.
"It’s none of his business, of course," he said, but now there was a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice, too.
"It is not anyone’s business," Teyla said, letting her elbow come to rest against his. "It’s no one’s business but ours."
She did not say that sometimes, too, *she* wondered why, exactly, he was with *her*.
"You’re right," he said. "Of course you’re right. But that doesn’t stop the Great Atlantis Gossip Mill from speculating day and night. Just think how much more work we could accomplish if we all spent less time talking about each other and more time exploring the city…"
Indeed, when Teyla looked around the dining hall, she saw that they were the focus of many looks, and also discussion, from the studious way that several tables full of people were *not* looking at them.
"Some day," she said, "we will have to give them something to speculate about." With that, she reached underneath the table to give his knee a squeeze. Before her very eyes, he turned bright red, but he was also smiling, looking around the room quickly, to see who was watching.
"Yes, yes," he said, sounding suddenly more sure again, Teyla’s mission accomplished. "Some day we’ll have to do that. But not today. I actually have a very important meeting to conduct this afternoon and I’d rather not have to spend it telling people that now is not the time nor the place to revert to such juvenile behavior as passing notes about the teacher during class."
She did not understand what Rodney was talking about, of course, but it seemed appropriate to laugh, so she did.
And, when she saw the look of pleasure on Rodney’s face at her response, she thought that it was not important for anyone else to understand what it was that she saw in Rodney.
All that mattered was that she did.)
Not all of the scientists have the same attitude as Dr. Kavanagh, though. Not all of them look confused as to her presence. In fact, Dr. Simpson, who is standing at one of the lab benches closest to her, turns towards Teyla, even if she doesn’t look up from her clipboard and says, "That’s just like McKay, you know."
"I’m sorry?" Teyla asks.
Then Dr. Simpson looks up. "To ask you to meet him here, then rush off to take care of some engineering emergency-which you know isn’t really an emergency, it’s just that he’s really bad at delegating when he thinks that there might be something *more* there, you know?"
"Yes," Teyla says after a beat. "I do understand. That is the way Dr. McKay is."
"On the other hand, he *is* coming back before they’re done with whatever it is they’re looking at out there, so whatever you two are doing tonight must be pretty important to him." This time it was Dr. Simpson’s turn to pause. "What is it that the two of you are doing tonight? Inquiring minds want to know what McKay does on his time off."
Teyla imagines that this is not something that Rodney discusses with his staff. Dr. Zelenka, maybe, because Teyla has come to know that Rodney tells Dr. Zelenka most everything. But as for the rest of his staff-Rodney is not that sort of man.
She does not have a good reason not to answer, though.
"Dr. McKay is attempting to educate me about the inaccuracy of science in your movies," she says.
Dr. Simpson blinks at her for a few moments. "Of course he is," she says. "Because that would be fun for him."
Teyla feels as if she should respond to this, but before she can, the door to the lab slides open again, and Rodney is stepping through, saying, "Zelenka, Zelenka, is-" And then he spots her, pauses, as he does, and the whole lab is back to watching them again. Watching Rodney, as Teyla is watching him.
"Hi," he says after a moment, and all it takes is a few steps before he is there with her. "I’m sorry," he says. "There was a power-"
"-fluctuation down at the East Pier," Teyla finishes. "Yes, I know. It is fine. I believe that I was early, anyway."
His breath is coming in quick, short bursts, and he doesn’t seem to know what to say next, so Teyla stands, but does not reach out to him. They may talk of giving people something to speculate over, Teyla knows, but this thing between them is still new, sometimes painfully so, and neither of them are truly ready to do so.
It is enough, she thinks, her coming here for him, like this. For now, anyway.
After a moment more, when he does not seem inclined to say anything else, she says, "Are you done here for the evening? Are you ready to go?"
And he begins nodding even before he says, "Yes. Yes, let’s go." She hears the unspoken ‘please’, the equally unspoken ‘now’, because he has just seemed to realize that they are not alone, that they are, in fact, the center of attention for those left in the lab. As they start towards the door, Simpson smiles at her, nods once and rolls her eyes, and then the door is sliding open for them, and Rodney is looking over his shoulder and saying, "Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone, will you?"
Teyla hears a faint, "We will try," from Zelenka, and then the door is closed.
As they walk down the hallway, Teyla imagines that she can hear the voices in the lab rising behind them, ever higher, like a wave.
In looking back through a few of them, though, I found some bits and pieces which don't make me cringe too terribly, most of which just stalled out and I didn't care enough to try to force them. All SGA. Surprise, surprise.
Rodney said, "Okay, no." Then, a moment later, "Okay, Colonel, no really, which part of *no* did you not understand," to which Sheppard said, "Come on, Rodney. How many times has Teyla helped us out of a jam."
He was giving Rodney that pleading look of his now, charming enough to make a thousand alien priestesses fall at his feet, but Rodney, not being an alien priestess, was pretty sure that he’d be able to resist it. When Sheppard spoke again, though, there was a lilt to his voice, probably meant to sound enticing, and his eyes were starting to take on a cunning gleam, and Rodney began to get a little worried. He had a right to be, because the next thing that Sheppard said was, "Besides, McKay, you’re the smartest person that any of us know. We need you out there."
Rodney drew himself up as tall as he could and said, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sheppard," but that was a lie and they both knew it. They both knew that Sheppard had already won. Really, there was only one thing left for Rodney to say.
He sighed. "So, when are we leaving?"
*
And that was how Rodney ended up on planet M3X-878, dressed in a *bathrobe*.
It wasn’t just an ordinary bathrobe either, oh no. No, it edged with gold painted lace and tied with a length of gold painted chain. At least, Sheppard had told him before they left, the bathrobe was a manly blue color, not pink or purple or covered with pastel butterflies or something.
He should be grateful for the small things, Sheppard had said, but Rodney had just glared at him and said, "I’m going off world in a *bathrobe*, Colonel. Don’t talk to me about *small things*."
For once, the door didn’t open to John’s touch, so he knocked and then, after Rodney’s muffled "*Who’s there*?", he said, "McKay, c’mon. Open the damn door already," and amazingly enough he did. It just slid right open beneath John’s palm, smooth and easy.
He stepped inside.
"Okay, okay," he said. "I’m here. Care to tell me what was so urgent that I had to cut short a breakfast meeting with Dr. W-" which transitioned quickly into, "Whoa there." Because that was when he caught sight of Rodney.
Sitting on his bed.
Dressed only in a white towel. Which, being military issue, John knew for a fact was not nearly as large as any of them might have wished for it to be.
He said, "Jesus, McKay. Put some clothes on, would you?" to which Rodney replied, "Believe me, Colonel, I would if I could," which gave John the excuse that he’d been looking for to look *away* from Rodney in his towel. He looked at Rodney’s closet instead, with its conveniently open doors, which showed, indeed, that all of the shelves and hangers were empty and bare.
"This is where I say, ‘ha, ha, funny joke, now tell your men to give me my clothes back,’" Rodney said, which made John look back at him again.
"And what makes you think that it was my men who pulled this stunt?" he asked. "I can think of 40 people in the science department alone who would have had more motive than any *one* of my men." He paused for a moment, then smirked. "More motive than I’d have had, even."
Rodney narrowed his eyes and tugged the edges of his towel even more tightly together around his waist. "Again I say, ‘ha, ha, very funny.’ But what I want to know is this: *what are you going to do about it*?"
Before John could ask, *well, what do you *want* me to do about it*? his radio sounded. "This is Sheppard," he said.
"John," Elizabeth said. "It seems that we have a bit of a situation."
*
Elizabeth saying ‘A bit’, John thought, might have been understating the situation, well, *a bit*, because they were now sitting in the dining hall-the only place in the habitated part of Atlantis big enough to hold them all. And by ‘them all’, John meant ‘all of the people who’s clothing had somehow disappeared during the night.’ Because there were a lot of them: 10 scientists, including Kavanagh (which eliminated John’s first suspect as to whom had committed Rodney’s theft), 20 of his military personnel, 4 Athosians who were visiting from the mainland, and 7 of Beckett’s staff.
All of them were dressed now, at least, but as he stood at the front of the room next to Elizabeth, tall and still, trying not to squirm under their accusing gazes, he felt almost guilty that he’d woken up to find clothes in his closet, or *hell*, clothes on him.
"None of you heard anything last night," Elizabeth said, looking frazzled. "No doors opening, no odd sounds that you just didn’t pay attention to."
"That’s what we’ve been saying, Dr. Weir," Kavanagh said. "It’s what we’ve each said *three times already*."
"I am aware of that, Doctor," she answered, "but if you just try to think back, try to-"
"This is why it couldn’t have been one of the scientists," Rodney interrupted, looking straight at John. "Because we are scientists. We are not trained for the stealth that a prank-or should I call it a full-on assault-such as this would require. I’m sure that there’s no need for me to remind you that your military personnel *are*."
"But who’s to say that you scientists didn’t develop an invisibility cloak or something," one of John’s men said, and John cringed. Thems, as his father would have said, were fighting words. They might as well have been kindling.
Rodney raised his hand and flapped it in front of his face once, as if batting the question away, and John cringed again. "Oh please. If I haven’t been able to-"
And that, John thought, is the spark.
Around him, the whole room seemed to explode.
"People!" Elizabeth shouted. "People, enough!"
She stopped shouting then, though, because her radio clicked, John was close enough to hear it. He was also close enough to hear what the person on the other end of the connection said.
"Enough!" he shouted. If he hadn’t been in the dining hall, or in the city at all, or somewhere where they had more than limited ammo, he might have shot his gun in the air. When that didn’t work, he stomped his foot on the ground and said, "Attention!" as loudly as he could, and his men were well trained enough to respond to that, even in the heat of battle. Once they stopped yelling, the scientists faded out, and Beckett’s people retreated back to their table, and the Asthosians dropped out of their fighting stances.
He continued more softly. "I believe that Dr. Weir has something to tell you."
Elizabeth nodded her thanks, then turned back to the crowd. "It seems," she said, "that while we’ve been here, discussing this, more articles of clothing have been disappearing from all around the city-at least five more closets have been found empty, and those that have been in their rooms at the time have suddenly found themselves, well, undressed."
There were firm nods coming from people in all corners of the room. Yes, that’s exactly what happened, those nods were saying, even though John knew that these people couldn’t know for sure. They’d been asleep at the time of the theft, after all, and the whole point was that they *hadn’t woken up*.
"Lt. Perry," Elizabeth continued, "is perhaps our best witness. Her closet door was open when the disappearance occurred. She was looking at it one moment, turned away again, and then the next, everything was gone."
"So you’re saying that no one entered the room," Kavanagh said. "That’s impossible. It must have been more than a moment that she-" while Zelenka said, "Well, yes, of course, it only makes sense," and he, of course, was whom everyone chose to listen to.
"What do you mean, Dr. Zelenka?" Elizabeth asked, but Zelenka chose just to look at Rodney, and they did that whole communication thing they did-except this time, with hardly any words. Just with looks, challenge given-do you understand?-and challenge met-a light dawning in Rodney’s eyes.
John wished the light would dawn in his eyes. He wanted to understand, too.
"On the last planet," Zelenka said. "Do you remember? You were telling me?"
Rodney said, "Huh. *Maybe*." Then he stood up from his table and said, "Elizabeth. Colonel. If we could have a moment?"
There was a general grumbling from around the room at that point, but Elizabeth waved them all quiet and motioned for John, for Rodney and Zelenka to follow her out into the hallway.
Once there, she said, "Okay, care to fill me in on what’s going on here? Rodney? Dr. Zelenka? John?"
John made a motion to show that he was just as clueless as she was, and then Zelenka and Rodney both started babbling together, but not in unison, so the only words John really caught were ‘planet’ and ‘creature’ and ‘teleport’ and then he said, "Okay, wait. Slow down. *Teleporting*?"
"Yes," Rodney said. "You remember on our last mission? How we were being followed around by all of those little squirrel creatures? And how we’d lose them whenever we crossed over those streams, but then not five minutes later they’d be right behind us again? Remember how we figured it must be a new group of them every time, because they would never cross the water?"
They hadn’t, John remembered. They’d just stood there chittering and hopping up and down on their little spindly legs, waving their too large ears in his team’s direction direction.
"And remember how they always looked the same?"
John nodded. They had always looked the same. Ten of them chubby little guys, twenty of them not so much, half-ish always red-brown, half black. Occasionally there had seemed to be more, occasionally less, but they had looked similar enough that even Teyla had thought to comment on it.
"And how two of my MREs went missing, but we found the empty slashed wrappers on the way back to the Jumper? How you *told me I must have *dropped* them*?"
John nodded again, hesitantly. Because yes, he remembered that conversation quite well. And it was not a supremely fond memory. *I bet they stole them from me,* Rodney had said at the time, and John had answered, *Well, how do you suppose they did that?*
Why Rodney hadn’t posited the telekinetic squirrel option then, he didn’t know, but if Rodney and Zelenka were right about this-which he was sure of, because they always were-he wouldn’t stop hearing about it for *years* to come.
"Let me see if I’m understanding you here," Elizabeth said slowly. "You’re saying that we brought one of these creatures back with us."
"Yes," Rodney said, looking to Radek for confirmation. "That’s what I’m saying."
That, apparently, was enough to convince Elizabeth, no matter how unlikely it sounded. It was enough to convince John, too, but mainly because he couldn’t think of a more logical explanation. *Clothes* were disappearing out of *closets* and off of *people* who were in the same vicinity, after all, so why shouldn’t the answer be telekinetic squirrels?
"Why didn’t any of the sensors pick up on this, though?" Elizabeth asked. "Shouldn’t we have known that it came back through the Gate with us? Shouldn’t the city have told us? Have shut down in some way?"
"It probably didn’t view it as being a threat to the city," Rodney said. "As for why we didn’t know it was here-"
"The sensors are tuned high enough to find any Wraith that may invade the city with us unawares," Zelenka said, "but we did not set it so high as to monitor small creatures. If we set it that high, we will be marking every fish that swims in the ocean. We did not see the need."
"-which is all well and good," John said, "but that still doesn’t answer the most pressing question in my mind. Why is it stealing our clothing?"
Again, Rodney and Zelenka looked at one another, but for once they didn’t start speaking. Instead, Zelenka shrugged and said, "It is one of life’s great mysteries, yes?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said. Then, "So let’s go find our missing clothes."
"I don’t know if I want to now," Rodney said. "Who knows what sorts of nefarious things the squirrels have done to them."
"It has the possibility of being most tragic," Zelenka agreed, nodding seriously.
*
Tragic was not the word that John would have used to describe it. Aww-inducingly cute, maybe, in that Disney cartoon sort of way, because this is what they found: five of the squirrel creatures with their too-large ears in a storage closet just outside the inhabited part of the city. Three of them were stationed at the door of the closet, while two of them were curled up at the top of a huge pile of clothing, sound asleep.
The three guards started in with their chittering again, hopping up and down in great agitation, and John couldn’t stop himself from smiling. It was just too… cute.
They say to him, "Dr. Zelenka." They say, "May we call you Radek?" They say, "You see, Radek, we have an extraordinary opportunity for you here and if you’ll just go ahead and sign this stack of papers three inches thick, we’ll tell you all about it."
Some days, Radek wishes that he did not sign.
Some days, he thinks that he would be better off back at University, in Czech Republic, or maybe in United States. He thinks of teaching. He thinks of late nights in lab, awake only because of too strong coffee and cold food in takeout containers. He remembers office hours with lines of students who did not do reading and department meetings, and sometimes even, he remembers these fondly. He will admit to thinking these things, yes, but he will say it is only when he is in imminent danger of being dead. Only when death is two steps away, staring at him over the barrel of energy pulse weapon of alien origin.
As it is now.
This, as saying goes, *this* he did not sign up for, but he knows it is part of package. It is wrapped up in bow with Ancient technology and 10,000-year old city and enough new discovery that Radek goes to blissed out happy place every time he thinks on it. Most days, he thinks it is worth the risk.
Most days, if not today.
Then the time for thinking is over, because the alien-he looks like steroid-abusing bodybuilder, except red muscles show through skin-waves the energy weapon at him and says something in alien language. Teyla translates.
She says, "They would like you to go back through the ‘Gate, Doctor Zelenka, back to Atlantis. They would like you to deliver their demand to Dr. Weir."
Their demand is weapon. Big weapon. An energy weapon bigger than gun, big enough to make house disappear, maybe whole city block, Radek decided as he looked at plans earlier, before pulse weapons appeared in alien hands, and Radek is the only one who can build such a thing, or so they think. That is what Major Sheppard told Teyla to tell them, anyway. That Radek can build it, but he needs to be back in city, with necessary materials and ingredients.
"Go," the Major says. "We’ll be fine. We’re just collateral." He waits for Radek to nod before he continues. "This is a lot like what happened on the Genii planet, actually, and you might mention that to Ford and McKay when you get back to the other side."
Radek nods again, although he does not know what Major Sheppard is talking about. He remembers problem with Genii, obviously, with C-4, and soldiers dressed as farmers, and all of the problems that came later, but that is all. Really, he prefers not to think of Genii at all.
The alien is speaking more, pointing to sky, and Radek’s gaze follows the brown-nailed finger up to red sun.
Teyla says, "You will have nine moon cycles to build the weapon. You will return alone. And then we will be released, by his honor."
If situation was different, Radek would say exactly what he thinks of alien honor (in Czech, of course), but he is being herded towards Gate, with two aliens behind him, and all he can do is nod at the Major one more time.
Rodney, Radek decides as he dials Atlantis, is never allowed to be sick again.
i.
It is not the first time that Teyla has been down to the labs, of course, but it *is* the first time since she and Rodney-
Since they’ve stared this-
It *is* the first time that she has been down to the labs without a specific purpose, without a specific question, and it shows, she thinks, because as the door slides shut behind her, she finds herself the focus of many stares. There is a nearly audible pause in the room, an almost deafening moment of silence, and, Teyla thinks, if she were the sort to blush, to feel embarrassment at such attention, she would no doubt be doing so.
She is not, however, and so she just stares back. Returns each inquiring gaze with a smile and a nod. Looks around for Rodney, because, of course, he is the reason that she is here. He was the one to suggest that this be the place for them to meet in the first place, after all.
("I, um. I have a tendency to get rather caught up in my work," he said, then blushed. Stammered a bit. "But you know that already. Of course, you do. What I’m trying to say is, if you show up, I’ll know it’s time to go. I won’t be able to say, ‘just five more minutes,’ which will turn into an hour and-"
"Okay," Teyla said, running the tips of her fingers down his arm until they touched his palm, until she could give his hand a squeeze. "I will come to you.")
She does not see him, though, and also, she does not hear him, and that is how she knows that he is not here, even before she sees Dr. Zelenka hurrying over. He is carrying a clipboard, and he has a pen stuck behind his ear, and he is saying, "Teyla, Rodney is on his way. There was power fluctuation down on East Pier this afternoon, but he is coming, he is on his way, returning. He tells me that if you would prefer not to wait, though, he can meet you in your quarters, later? He tells me that it will not be long."
Teyla nods, says, "Thank you, Dr. Zelenka, but I think that I will wait. I am in no hurry."
Zelenka blinks for a moment, as if surprised by her answer, but then he shakes his head, and says, "Then, please. Make yourself comfortable. What is it that they say? Make yourself at home?"
"I will," Teyla says, smiling, and she begins looking around the room for a place to sit.
There are lab benches everywhere, glassware and machines with red and green flashing lights and arm-length after arm-length of rubber tubing. It is evening, so the lab is not as full of scientists as it would have been during the day, but there are still many there, those who have not yet gone to the dining hall, who have not yet stopped for the day. This time as her eyes pass over them, Teyla watches as they jerk back to their work, as if they had not realized they were listening in on her conversation with Dr. Zelenka.
Finally she spots an unused desk off to the side of the room, yet near to the door, the chair in front of it not covered by folders and papers and lab coats as so many of the chairs in the room, she sees, are. So she heads towards it, sits down. Spins the chair so she is facing the door, but after a moment, begins spinning in the opposite direction again, surveying the lab, Rodney’s domain.
She watches as Dr. Zelenka heads back to his work, as others return to what they are doing, too. Some people are staring at stacks of paper, quickly flipping back and forth between pages. Others are pushing buttons on machines, then making notes on clipboards they hold in their hands. Still others are looking at liquids in glass vials, swirling them around, adding ingredients from other vials. It is busy, and looks to be productive, no matter that Teyla has no idea what they are doing.
As she looks, she sees some of the scientists casting surreptitious glances in her direction. Dr. Kavanagh is by far the worst, but only because his glances are blatant stares. Mostly confused, a little condescending, but she does not take offense to the last, because that, she knows, is how he *always* looks. And he is one of those, Rodney has told her, that does not understand why she is with Rodney, like she is.
("And you know what I told him?" Rodney said over dinner, his knee pushed up against hers beneath the table. "I said, ‘ I’m as surprised as anyone, but you know what? I, at least, have a good *reason* to be surprised about it, and you don’t, so why don’t you, I don’t know, do some actual *work*?’"
He took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed heavily for a few moments.
"It’s none of his business, of course," he said, but now there was a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice, too.
"It is not anyone’s business," Teyla said, letting her elbow come to rest against his. "It’s no one’s business but ours."
She did not say that sometimes, too, *she* wondered why, exactly, he was with *her*.
"You’re right," he said. "Of course you’re right. But that doesn’t stop the Great Atlantis Gossip Mill from speculating day and night. Just think how much more work we could accomplish if we all spent less time talking about each other and more time exploring the city…"
Indeed, when Teyla looked around the dining hall, she saw that they were the focus of many looks, and also discussion, from the studious way that several tables full of people were *not* looking at them.
"Some day," she said, "we will have to give them something to speculate about." With that, she reached underneath the table to give his knee a squeeze. Before her very eyes, he turned bright red, but he was also smiling, looking around the room quickly, to see who was watching.
"Yes, yes," he said, sounding suddenly more sure again, Teyla’s mission accomplished. "Some day we’ll have to do that. But not today. I actually have a very important meeting to conduct this afternoon and I’d rather not have to spend it telling people that now is not the time nor the place to revert to such juvenile behavior as passing notes about the teacher during class."
She did not understand what Rodney was talking about, of course, but it seemed appropriate to laugh, so she did.
And, when she saw the look of pleasure on Rodney’s face at her response, she thought that it was not important for anyone else to understand what it was that she saw in Rodney.
All that mattered was that she did.)
Not all of the scientists have the same attitude as Dr. Kavanagh, though. Not all of them look confused as to her presence. In fact, Dr. Simpson, who is standing at one of the lab benches closest to her, turns towards Teyla, even if she doesn’t look up from her clipboard and says, "That’s just like McKay, you know."
"I’m sorry?" Teyla asks.
Then Dr. Simpson looks up. "To ask you to meet him here, then rush off to take care of some engineering emergency-which you know isn’t really an emergency, it’s just that he’s really bad at delegating when he thinks that there might be something *more* there, you know?"
"Yes," Teyla says after a beat. "I do understand. That is the way Dr. McKay is."
"On the other hand, he *is* coming back before they’re done with whatever it is they’re looking at out there, so whatever you two are doing tonight must be pretty important to him." This time it was Dr. Simpson’s turn to pause. "What is it that the two of you are doing tonight? Inquiring minds want to know what McKay does on his time off."
Teyla imagines that this is not something that Rodney discusses with his staff. Dr. Zelenka, maybe, because Teyla has come to know that Rodney tells Dr. Zelenka most everything. But as for the rest of his staff-Rodney is not that sort of man.
She does not have a good reason not to answer, though.
"Dr. McKay is attempting to educate me about the inaccuracy of science in your movies," she says.
Dr. Simpson blinks at her for a few moments. "Of course he is," she says. "Because that would be fun for him."
Teyla feels as if she should respond to this, but before she can, the door to the lab slides open again, and Rodney is stepping through, saying, "Zelenka, Zelenka, is-" And then he spots her, pauses, as he does, and the whole lab is back to watching them again. Watching Rodney, as Teyla is watching him.
"Hi," he says after a moment, and all it takes is a few steps before he is there with her. "I’m sorry," he says. "There was a power-"
"-fluctuation down at the East Pier," Teyla finishes. "Yes, I know. It is fine. I believe that I was early, anyway."
His breath is coming in quick, short bursts, and he doesn’t seem to know what to say next, so Teyla stands, but does not reach out to him. They may talk of giving people something to speculate over, Teyla knows, but this thing between them is still new, sometimes painfully so, and neither of them are truly ready to do so.
It is enough, she thinks, her coming here for him, like this. For now, anyway.
After a moment more, when he does not seem inclined to say anything else, she says, "Are you done here for the evening? Are you ready to go?"
And he begins nodding even before he says, "Yes. Yes, let’s go." She hears the unspoken ‘please’, the equally unspoken ‘now’, because he has just seemed to realize that they are not alone, that they are, in fact, the center of attention for those left in the lab. As they start towards the door, Simpson smiles at her, nods once and rolls her eyes, and then the door is sliding open for them, and Rodney is looking over his shoulder and saying, "Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone, will you?"
Teyla hears a faint, "We will try," from Zelenka, and then the door is closed.
As they walk down the hallway, Teyla imagines that she can hear the voices in the lab rising behind them, ever higher, like a wave.