TEAM FINE: ivory tower, "His Own Man"
Title: His Own Man
Author: velocitygrass
Team: Fine
Prompt: ivory tower
Pairing(s): Android!John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Warnings: Human/Android relationship
Word count: 3912
Summary: When Rodney set out to build John, he couldn't have known where they'd end up decades later.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to wanted_a_pony for the beta!
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
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**
"Thank you for joining us, Dr. McKay," Dr. Martin said. She gave Rodney a quick smile, which in no way made Rodney feel better. "I just want to make it clear that this is an informal meeting. As you know, the university has never had to deal with this particular issue, so there are no procedures. At this time we're just gathering different perspectives on the matter, and we'll decide how to proceed when that's done. Mr. Sheppard has asked Mr. Woolsey to assist him by asking a few questions." Dr. Martin nodded towards Woolsey, whose manner and expensive suit screamed 'lawyer'.
Informal, my ass, Rodney thought.
"Good morning, Dr. McKay," Woolsey said, standing and walking a few steps closer.
Rodney didn't bother with an answer. It wasn't a good morning, not by a long shot.
"As I understand it, you designed and built Mr. Sheppard over the course of twenty years," Woolsey began.
"He was built by a team. But I was ultimately responsible for all work done on him, and I implemented the way his brain works and connects to his body."
"Right. Thank you for your clarification," Woolsey said. "Mr. Sheppard is an amazing scientific achievement. Even as a layman I can appreciate how much work must have gone into making Mr. Sheppard as human as he is now."
Since Woolsey hadn't asked a question, Rodney remained quiet. He was well aware that whatever compliments Woolsey dished out now had the sole purpose of helping John.
"You've written dozens of papers over the years to describe your processes and findings. Is that correct?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes," Rodney answered.
"And the last paper you wrote about Mr. Sheppard was published when?" Woolsey asked.
"I don't know the date off the top of my head," Rodney said calmly.
"I believe I do," Woolsey said. He stepped back to his table and picked up a journal. Rodney glanced at John who also sat at the table, looking stoic. This was only supposed to be an informal meeting, but everything about it felt like a trial to Rodney. He was the defendant, and John the plaintiff. Woolsey returned to where Rodney was sitting, showing him the journal. "Was this the last paper on Mr. Sheppard you published?"
Rodney didn't even bother to look closely at the journal. "Yes."
"So it's been over 18 months since your last published paper on Mr. Sheppard?"
"It appears so," Rodney said.
"Are there any other papers you plan on publishing? Anything related to Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey asked.
"I cannot predict the future, Mr. Woolsey," Rodney said.
"I see. Are you currently working on, or planning to publish, anything related to Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey clarified.
"No."
"Do you have any concrete plans to write about Mr. Sheppard in the future?"
"Not at the moment, no," Rodney said.
"Since you aren't actively working to improve Mr. Sheppard, isn't it unlikely that you will publish further papers on him?" Woolsey asked.
"It's not entirely correct that I'm not working on... John any more," Rodney said. He wasn't going to call him Mr. Sheppard. He'd been John from the beginning, long before he'd gotten a last name.
"So you might write a paper on modifications you're currently making on him?"
Rodney's jaw clenched. The tweaks he was implementing for John were so minor they would hardly fill a page, and it wouldn't even be an interesting one. "No," he admitted.
"Would it be fair to say that Mr. Sheppard's continued presence as your research subject is no longer necessary, since your work on him is-by and large-finished?" Woolsey asked.
"John has always been an ongoing project. I can't say that I won't work on him in a meaningful way in the future," Rodney insisted.
"But you are not working on him-in a meaningful way-now, nor do you have any concrete plans to do so. So until you do want to continue working on him, would his absence interfere with your academic work?" Woolsey pressed.
"John is more than a research subject," Rodney said.
"Yes, we'll get to that. But for now I'm talking about his history as your research subject. You current work is not directly related to him, nor does it require him. Isn't that correct?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes, that is correct," Rodney finally admitted.
"Thank you," Woolsey said, obviously pleased. "Before we move on to Mr. Sheppard's work for you, let me ask about a few other things. Do you require Mr. Sheppard for conferences-in his capacity as a research subject, not as your assistant?"
"John hates being trotted around at conferences. We stopped doing that years ago," Rodney said, looking over to John, who didn't smile or show any sort of acknowledgement of what Rodney had done for him.
"Are there any other scientists or organizations who need Mr. Sheppard to continue their work?" Woolsey asked.
"No," Rodney said.
"No one else has shown a scientific or commercial interest in him? It's hard to believe that, as unique as Mr. Sheppard is, no one wants to learn from him." Woolsey sounded skeptical.
Rodney glared at him. "John is far too complex to be useful to other scientists. It would take too much time and money to replicate him, and his brain is too intricate to be useful as a model for other research."
"So other scientists or companies would actually need a simpler version of Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey asked.
"They need a simple, cheap robot that can achieve basic interactions with humans. I've always wanted to achieve more than that, and I don't see why I should do their job just because they're incapable of doing it themselves," Rodney said. They had tried to lure him away, though, with offers of fame and ridiculous amounts of money. Some had even tried to appeal to his 'responsibility as a human' to help others, which showed how little they knew.
"So you continued to work on Mr. Sheppard until he reached the state he is in now?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes," Rodney said.
"And he isn't used by other scientists at any university or government agency, or in the private sector?" Woolsey went on.
"No," Rodney said.
"So, if Mr. Sheppard left, he wouldn't deprive anyone of the means to continue their work?" Woolsey concluded.
Rodney looked at John. Was this the reason for John's sudden decision? Did he think he wasn't needed? It didn't make sense, though. Their situation hadn't changed at all recently; John was very much needed in Rodney's work. "Aside from his work as my assistant, no," Rodney said.
"Right, let's get to that. We've established that Mr. Sheppard's presence isn't needed for your research-your current or currently planned research," Woolsey amended, cutting off Rodney's protest. "In addition to being your former research subject, he works as your assistant."
"Yes," Rodney said.
"You actually pay him to do his work, correct?" Woolsey asked.
"He's proven to be very capable. It only seemed fair to compensate him for his work," Rodney said, glancing at John, who only gave him a quick look before focusing on Woolsey again.
"But this means you have the budget for an assistant," Woolsey said. Rodney turned back to him, frowning for a moment since he wasn't sure where Woolsey was going with this. "You could easily hire a replacement if Mr. Sheppard left."
"I could not," Rodney said vehemently. "John has been my assistant for over five years, far longer than any other assistant I've ever had. It would be impossible to find a replacement."
"Are you saying that no one else is capable of doing the work that Mr. Sheppard does for you?" Woolsey asked, disbelieving.
"Working with someone isn't just about professional qualifications!"
Woolsey smiled. "Of course, Dr. McKay. I think we've all had colleagues who weren't just competent, but a pleasure to work with. I know that it can be difficult to lose such a close working relationship, but it's a fact of life that it happens. People look for other employment, or they're promoted or retire. It's understandable that you don't want to lose Mr. Sheppard as your assistant, but that's just a testimonial to the excellent working relationship the two of you had. It's not that his work cannot be done by an equally capable assistant."
Rodney looked at John. The 'excellent working relationship the two of you had': he noted the past tense and ached for the time, just a week before, when not just their working relationship, but their relationship period had been excellent. He still didn't understand what had happened. John had seemed content and happy right until he'd told Rodney he wanted to leave.
"Dr. McKay?" Woolsey got Rodney's attention. "Mr. Sheppard's professional capabilities as your assistant could be fulfilled by someone else. Isn't that correct?"
Rodney glanced at John once more before answering, reluctantly, "Yes."
"So in conclusion, there are no academic, scientific, or other work-related reasons to force Mr. Sheppard to stay at this time," Woolsey said.
Since it wasn't a question, Rodney only dropped his gaze. He'd never wanted to force John to stay in the first place. He'd never wanted or even expected this. It had come completely out of left field, and John hadn't given him the time to process it.
"Is that all, Mr. Woolsey?" Dr. Martin asked.
"Yes," Woolsey said, looking satisfied with himself. "Mr. Sheppard would like to ask a few questions as well, but my part is done. Thank you for allowing me to participate in this, Dr. Martin."
"You're welcome, Mr. Woolsey. Thank you for being a part of this. Mr. Sheppard?" she looked at John, who got up. "I think we can continue right away. Unless you'd like a break, Dr. McKay?"
"I'm fine," Rodney said. He wanted this over and done with. After Mr. Woolsey's little chat with him, he didn't think anyone could be convinced not to side with John anyway. Unless the university had never truly intended to let the product of research conducted here out of their control. But in that case they wouldn't have set up this meeting.
John approached the table behind which Rodney was sitting. It felt more than ever like a witness stand.
"Why don't you just replace me?" John asked.
"It would take far too long," Rodney said. "You should know that."
"It would take some time, but not as long as it took to create me. It would be a new challenge," John said almost conspiratorially.
Rodney had to admit that he'd been looking forward to the next scientific breakthrough after accomplishing what he had with John. But doing essentially the same again-even with improvements-wouldn't be a challenge. And it wouldn't be a replacement. "It wouldn't be you," Rodney said.
"That's right. You could fix everything that went wrong with me," John said, smiling self-deprecatingly.
Rodney didn't return the smile. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said seriously.
John's smile faded. "I'm sure you would have liked to avoid this."
"It's a part of you, even if it's infuriating," Rodney said. He vividly remembered the first time he'd felt like this. John had risked himself in an attempt to save another scientist after a lab accident, and Rodney had been terrified. Afterward, when John was thankfully unharmed save for a few scratches, Rodney's worry had turned into anger. Back then John had asked him if he wanted to find the root of his self-sacrificing behavior and program it out. Rodney ended up deciding he wouldn't because, as aggravating as John's behavior could be at times, John had become his own person. Rodney had respected him too much to try to force a modification on him then, and that respect hadn't changed now.
"So you think it's understandable that I want to leave?" John asked.
"Understandable, maybe, though I don't claim to understand it personally," Rodney said. As John had grown in complexity he'd become more unpredictable. Rodney had long since stopped trying to make sense of some of his decisions; there was no logic behind this particular decision that he could discern.
"We discussed getting me my own place years ago," John reminded him.
"Yes," Rodney conceded. They'd had that discussion as John gained independence and stability. Constant supervision hadn't been necessary for some time and Kate Heightmeyer had suggested it, so Rodney had offered. But John had declined. "You said you were fine. It was your decision to stay. I was under the impression you didn't regret it." Rodney didn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
"I didn't," John said. "Sometimes things change."
Rodney could only snort. Things had changed, all right. Out of nowhere John had informed him the week before that he would like to leave to explore the world and meet other people. Rodney had offered a trip, had tried to accommodate John's wishes as he always had. Then John had told him that he didn't know how long he wanted to be gone, that he might never come back. He'd essentially been ready to cut all ties with Rodney, and Rodney...well, he hadn't reacted very well.
He'd regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, but this wasn't the kind of thing that you could just dump on someone and then except them to react calmly. 'Sometimes things change.' The only thing that had changed for Rodney was that the person who'd lived and worked with him for years was ready to abandon him for no reason.
"Why do you want to force me to stay?" John asked. "Because I'm just a machine with no right to autonomy?"
"I told you I didn't mean it," Rodney said. Of course, John had to bring it up.
"'Property of the university'," John quoted his exact words.
"I was angry," Rodney said hotly. "You know how I get, and you were telling me out of nowhere that you wanted to leave and never come back! What did you expect?"
"I didn't say I'd never come back. I said, I didn't know," John corrected him.
"And that it might be never," Rodney argued. The hollow feeling he'd gotten when John had said those words hadn't left him since.
"Even if it was never, if I'm not just property, what right do you have to keep me from going?" John asked, looking angry for the first time during the meeting.
What right did he have? That of a friend? Rodney thought about the games they played, the heated but always enjoyable discussions, the companionship during work-not just there, but as two people sharing their lives. Shouldn't he expect some loyalty because of that? But then, the loyalty of a friend was freely given. John didn't owe it to him. Apparently he didn't want to be Rodney's friend anymore, or at least he didn't want it as much as he wanted to leave. Rodney still didn't have any idea why John wanted to leave.
Maybe their friendship had never meant as much to him as it did to Rodney, or John thought that he could easily find the sort of friendship they'd built over the years with someone else. And maybe he could. Maybe it was just Rodney who'd be left alone, mourning a relationship that he already knew could never be replaced.
What right did he have to keep John from leaving? "None," Rodney said. "None at all."
John looked surprised. "So you'll let me go?"
"You obviously don't want to stay," Rodney said, dropping his head in defeat.
"You have no idea why I made my decision, do you?" John asked.
That made Rodney look up at him again. "How should I?" he asked. "You haven't explained it."
John suddenly looked around at Woolsey, Dr. Martin, and the handful of other university members who'd been invited to the meeting. "This isn't the right time or place," John said.
"Of course it isn't!" Rodney groused. "How about when you dumped that news on me? That might have been a good time."
"I thought you knew," was John's only answer.
"Knew what?" Rodney asked-no, pleaded.
Woolsey suddenly got up. "I think we can conclude this meeting. Dr. McKay admitted he has no professional reason to keep Mr. Sheppard from leaving, even if he understandably wishes him to stay."
"Right," Dr. Martin agreed. "This meeting is closed. I want to thank everyone for participating; I think we can agree it's been very informative. There are obviously other matters to explore but we'll leave those as the next steps. Mr. Sheppard, we'll keep in touch."
John nodded at her. Mr. Woolsey and Dr. Martin quickly ushered the others out and left themselves, obviously wanting to give them privacy to finish their discussion.
As soon as they were alone Rodney got up and approached John. He asked the question that had been burning inside ever since he got over his first angry dismissal: "Why?"
John stared at him. "I can't believe you've forgotten it-or completely erased it from your mind."
"What?!" Rodney shouted.
"A month ago, when I tried to... and you turned away," John said quietly.
Rodney blinked. He thought back, and suddenly he remembered. About a month ago, after some of the slight flirtation they sometimes engaged in, John had leaned forward to kiss him-but Rodney had turned away before their lips touched.
"So you do remember?" John asked. Rodney's face must have given him away. "Then why did you turn me down? I've thought about it, a lot. Did I misread the signals completely? I've seen you look at me sometimes and I thought... I was sure that you were, that you wanted... Is it because you can't imagine being with a machine?" John asked, his voice sharp at the end.
"You're not just a machine," Rodney said immediately.
"Not just, but I am one," John fired back.
"I never treated you like one."
"But you still think of me as one," John said. "Why else would you turn me down? Can you honestly say you're not attracted to me? I know you enjoy my company. We live together. We work together. Why wouldn't you want to...to take our relationship to the next level?"
"Relationship?" Rodney asked, still unable to process the implications of what John was saying.
"Yes, relationship. That's what people have. It never even crossed your mind? You authorized making me sexually functional. You allowed me to feel desire. You never though about touching me, fucking me?" John asked.
Rodney dropped his gaze. "I tried not to," he said quietly.
"Because I'm just a robot," John said, sounding bitter now.
"Because it wouldn't have been right," Rodney disagreed. "Jeannie once accused me of creating the perfect human for myself because I don't want to deal with 'real' humans. And as it turned out, I did. You can be annoying as hell, but I've still never felt I could be as open with anyone as I can with you. I can't imagine anyone I'd rather spend time with. You're as perfect for me as I can imagine anyone being, and I was more than happy about that. But creating you to sexually service me..." He trailed off, trying not to think about what his sister, or anyone else, would say about that.
"Did you?" John asked.
"No!" Rodney said.
"Did you program me to desire you, specifically?" John asked.
"No," Rodney said firmly. "I coded that part of you to allow you to feel lust and sexual responses, but I didn't make it specific. It's grown organically like your other behavioral and emotional responses. But you know it's an art as much as science: maybe on some subconscious level..."
"That's bullshit," John said. "There are things that you influenced directly, but many more that you didn't-you complain about them all the time. You didn't force me to feel like this. It happened. And it doesn't matter why unless you want it to matter. Do you?" Rodney didn't say anything, so John went on. "If there are other reasons, I'll just have to accept that, but don't tell me we can't even try and see what happens between us because of some nebulous ethical speculation."
Rodney dropped his gaze. John was right, it was just an excuse.
"Forget how I was created," John said. "Just look at me and tell me if you can see the person that I am, nothing more and nothing less."
Rodney looked at John, the person that he was right now. His sense of humor, the geek that he was, his dorky side, how smart he was and, yes, how attractive he was to Rodney. Jeannie had warned him that it wasn't healthy to give up the life he could have with someone else in favor of being with John. But it had never been about giving someone up. Life with John had been his choice. He'd never wanted anything else, anyone else.
He'd been falling in love with John for a long time even if he hadn't realized it. He wasn't even sure why he'd tried to repress it. Maybe John was right, and on some level Rodney had still seen the machine in John. But not now. John was John, the man he loved, who happened to be created artificially.
"What will you do when I try to kiss you again?" John asked softly.
Rodney didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them.
The kiss started out slow. Their lips gently moved against each other, adjusting minutely until they were a perfect fit. Then it deepened quickly as Rodney was filled with need and desire and an amazing sense of coming home. John was just as passionate, holding Rodney's head possessively as they kissed wetly, deeply until they had to move apart to breathe.
"Don't go," Rodney said, allowing himself to let his need speak, now that he'd finally acknowledged what he felt.
"I never wanted to," John said.
"You still can, though," Rodney heard himself say. "You deserve the same freedom every human has." He needed to say it, needed John to know that whatever happened between them, he respected John's rights.
"Thanks for saying so," John said with a small smile. "Even if we both know I'm not human."
"You're human to me," Rodney said.
"That's all I ever wanted," John said, his smile widening.
"We can try to make it official," Rodney went on, feeling the overwhelming need to give John the status he deserved. "Nobody's attempted to claim human rights for an android, but there's never been someone like you. We could still work on making you age properly if that's what people worry about. You already match human limitations as far as strength, flexibility, stamina... There's no reason to-"
John stopped him with a fingertip on his lips. "Looks like we've found more areas for scientific inquiry after all," he said with a smirk.
"It's not for scientific reasons," Rodney protested. It was for John.
"And you never know what you might find when you keep working on something simply because you want to," John said, kissing Rodney again.
Rodney had to agree. He thought about how he'd set out, decades before, without a clear goal except to build the most human machine the world had ever seen. He might have missed his chance to fill the world with McKay robots, but having John was more than worth it to him.
**
Poll
Author: velocitygrass
Team: Fine
Prompt: ivory tower
Pairing(s): Android!John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Warnings: Human/Android relationship
Word count: 3912
Summary: When Rodney set out to build John, he couldn't have known where they'd end up decades later.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to wanted_a_pony for the beta!
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
"Thank you for joining us, Dr. McKay," Dr. Martin said. She gave Rodney a quick smile, which in no way made Rodney feel better. "I just want to make it clear that this is an informal meeting. As you know, the university has never had to deal with this particular issue, so there are no procedures. At this time we're just gathering different perspectives on the matter, and we'll decide how to proceed when that's done. Mr. Sheppard has asked Mr. Woolsey to assist him by asking a few questions." Dr. Martin nodded towards Woolsey, whose manner and expensive suit screamed 'lawyer'.
Informal, my ass, Rodney thought.
"Good morning, Dr. McKay," Woolsey said, standing and walking a few steps closer.
Rodney didn't bother with an answer. It wasn't a good morning, not by a long shot.
"As I understand it, you designed and built Mr. Sheppard over the course of twenty years," Woolsey began.
"He was built by a team. But I was ultimately responsible for all work done on him, and I implemented the way his brain works and connects to his body."
"Right. Thank you for your clarification," Woolsey said. "Mr. Sheppard is an amazing scientific achievement. Even as a layman I can appreciate how much work must have gone into making Mr. Sheppard as human as he is now."
Since Woolsey hadn't asked a question, Rodney remained quiet. He was well aware that whatever compliments Woolsey dished out now had the sole purpose of helping John.
"You've written dozens of papers over the years to describe your processes and findings. Is that correct?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes," Rodney answered.
"And the last paper you wrote about Mr. Sheppard was published when?" Woolsey asked.
"I don't know the date off the top of my head," Rodney said calmly.
"I believe I do," Woolsey said. He stepped back to his table and picked up a journal. Rodney glanced at John who also sat at the table, looking stoic. This was only supposed to be an informal meeting, but everything about it felt like a trial to Rodney. He was the defendant, and John the plaintiff. Woolsey returned to where Rodney was sitting, showing him the journal. "Was this the last paper on Mr. Sheppard you published?"
Rodney didn't even bother to look closely at the journal. "Yes."
"So it's been over 18 months since your last published paper on Mr. Sheppard?"
"It appears so," Rodney said.
"Are there any other papers you plan on publishing? Anything related to Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey asked.
"I cannot predict the future, Mr. Woolsey," Rodney said.
"I see. Are you currently working on, or planning to publish, anything related to Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey clarified.
"No."
"Do you have any concrete plans to write about Mr. Sheppard in the future?"
"Not at the moment, no," Rodney said.
"Since you aren't actively working to improve Mr. Sheppard, isn't it unlikely that you will publish further papers on him?" Woolsey asked.
"It's not entirely correct that I'm not working on... John any more," Rodney said. He wasn't going to call him Mr. Sheppard. He'd been John from the beginning, long before he'd gotten a last name.
"So you might write a paper on modifications you're currently making on him?"
Rodney's jaw clenched. The tweaks he was implementing for John were so minor they would hardly fill a page, and it wouldn't even be an interesting one. "No," he admitted.
"Would it be fair to say that Mr. Sheppard's continued presence as your research subject is no longer necessary, since your work on him is-by and large-finished?" Woolsey asked.
"John has always been an ongoing project. I can't say that I won't work on him in a meaningful way in the future," Rodney insisted.
"But you are not working on him-in a meaningful way-now, nor do you have any concrete plans to do so. So until you do want to continue working on him, would his absence interfere with your academic work?" Woolsey pressed.
"John is more than a research subject," Rodney said.
"Yes, we'll get to that. But for now I'm talking about his history as your research subject. You current work is not directly related to him, nor does it require him. Isn't that correct?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes, that is correct," Rodney finally admitted.
"Thank you," Woolsey said, obviously pleased. "Before we move on to Mr. Sheppard's work for you, let me ask about a few other things. Do you require Mr. Sheppard for conferences-in his capacity as a research subject, not as your assistant?"
"John hates being trotted around at conferences. We stopped doing that years ago," Rodney said, looking over to John, who didn't smile or show any sort of acknowledgement of what Rodney had done for him.
"Are there any other scientists or organizations who need Mr. Sheppard to continue their work?" Woolsey asked.
"No," Rodney said.
"No one else has shown a scientific or commercial interest in him? It's hard to believe that, as unique as Mr. Sheppard is, no one wants to learn from him." Woolsey sounded skeptical.
Rodney glared at him. "John is far too complex to be useful to other scientists. It would take too much time and money to replicate him, and his brain is too intricate to be useful as a model for other research."
"So other scientists or companies would actually need a simpler version of Mr. Sheppard?" Woolsey asked.
"They need a simple, cheap robot that can achieve basic interactions with humans. I've always wanted to achieve more than that, and I don't see why I should do their job just because they're incapable of doing it themselves," Rodney said. They had tried to lure him away, though, with offers of fame and ridiculous amounts of money. Some had even tried to appeal to his 'responsibility as a human' to help others, which showed how little they knew.
"So you continued to work on Mr. Sheppard until he reached the state he is in now?" Woolsey asked.
"Yes," Rodney said.
"And he isn't used by other scientists at any university or government agency, or in the private sector?" Woolsey went on.
"No," Rodney said.
"So, if Mr. Sheppard left, he wouldn't deprive anyone of the means to continue their work?" Woolsey concluded.
Rodney looked at John. Was this the reason for John's sudden decision? Did he think he wasn't needed? It didn't make sense, though. Their situation hadn't changed at all recently; John was very much needed in Rodney's work. "Aside from his work as my assistant, no," Rodney said.
"Right, let's get to that. We've established that Mr. Sheppard's presence isn't needed for your research-your current or currently planned research," Woolsey amended, cutting off Rodney's protest. "In addition to being your former research subject, he works as your assistant."
"Yes," Rodney said.
"You actually pay him to do his work, correct?" Woolsey asked.
"He's proven to be very capable. It only seemed fair to compensate him for his work," Rodney said, glancing at John, who only gave him a quick look before focusing on Woolsey again.
"But this means you have the budget for an assistant," Woolsey said. Rodney turned back to him, frowning for a moment since he wasn't sure where Woolsey was going with this. "You could easily hire a replacement if Mr. Sheppard left."
"I could not," Rodney said vehemently. "John has been my assistant for over five years, far longer than any other assistant I've ever had. It would be impossible to find a replacement."
"Are you saying that no one else is capable of doing the work that Mr. Sheppard does for you?" Woolsey asked, disbelieving.
"Working with someone isn't just about professional qualifications!"
Woolsey smiled. "Of course, Dr. McKay. I think we've all had colleagues who weren't just competent, but a pleasure to work with. I know that it can be difficult to lose such a close working relationship, but it's a fact of life that it happens. People look for other employment, or they're promoted or retire. It's understandable that you don't want to lose Mr. Sheppard as your assistant, but that's just a testimonial to the excellent working relationship the two of you had. It's not that his work cannot be done by an equally capable assistant."
Rodney looked at John. The 'excellent working relationship the two of you had': he noted the past tense and ached for the time, just a week before, when not just their working relationship, but their relationship period had been excellent. He still didn't understand what had happened. John had seemed content and happy right until he'd told Rodney he wanted to leave.
"Dr. McKay?" Woolsey got Rodney's attention. "Mr. Sheppard's professional capabilities as your assistant could be fulfilled by someone else. Isn't that correct?"
Rodney glanced at John once more before answering, reluctantly, "Yes."
"So in conclusion, there are no academic, scientific, or other work-related reasons to force Mr. Sheppard to stay at this time," Woolsey said.
Since it wasn't a question, Rodney only dropped his gaze. He'd never wanted to force John to stay in the first place. He'd never wanted or even expected this. It had come completely out of left field, and John hadn't given him the time to process it.
"Is that all, Mr. Woolsey?" Dr. Martin asked.
"Yes," Woolsey said, looking satisfied with himself. "Mr. Sheppard would like to ask a few questions as well, but my part is done. Thank you for allowing me to participate in this, Dr. Martin."
"You're welcome, Mr. Woolsey. Thank you for being a part of this. Mr. Sheppard?" she looked at John, who got up. "I think we can continue right away. Unless you'd like a break, Dr. McKay?"
"I'm fine," Rodney said. He wanted this over and done with. After Mr. Woolsey's little chat with him, he didn't think anyone could be convinced not to side with John anyway. Unless the university had never truly intended to let the product of research conducted here out of their control. But in that case they wouldn't have set up this meeting.
John approached the table behind which Rodney was sitting. It felt more than ever like a witness stand.
"Why don't you just replace me?" John asked.
"It would take far too long," Rodney said. "You should know that."
"It would take some time, but not as long as it took to create me. It would be a new challenge," John said almost conspiratorially.
Rodney had to admit that he'd been looking forward to the next scientific breakthrough after accomplishing what he had with John. But doing essentially the same again-even with improvements-wouldn't be a challenge. And it wouldn't be a replacement. "It wouldn't be you," Rodney said.
"That's right. You could fix everything that went wrong with me," John said, smiling self-deprecatingly.
Rodney didn't return the smile. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said seriously.
John's smile faded. "I'm sure you would have liked to avoid this."
"It's a part of you, even if it's infuriating," Rodney said. He vividly remembered the first time he'd felt like this. John had risked himself in an attempt to save another scientist after a lab accident, and Rodney had been terrified. Afterward, when John was thankfully unharmed save for a few scratches, Rodney's worry had turned into anger. Back then John had asked him if he wanted to find the root of his self-sacrificing behavior and program it out. Rodney ended up deciding he wouldn't because, as aggravating as John's behavior could be at times, John had become his own person. Rodney had respected him too much to try to force a modification on him then, and that respect hadn't changed now.
"So you think it's understandable that I want to leave?" John asked.
"Understandable, maybe, though I don't claim to understand it personally," Rodney said. As John had grown in complexity he'd become more unpredictable. Rodney had long since stopped trying to make sense of some of his decisions; there was no logic behind this particular decision that he could discern.
"We discussed getting me my own place years ago," John reminded him.
"Yes," Rodney conceded. They'd had that discussion as John gained independence and stability. Constant supervision hadn't been necessary for some time and Kate Heightmeyer had suggested it, so Rodney had offered. But John had declined. "You said you were fine. It was your decision to stay. I was under the impression you didn't regret it." Rodney didn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
"I didn't," John said. "Sometimes things change."
Rodney could only snort. Things had changed, all right. Out of nowhere John had informed him the week before that he would like to leave to explore the world and meet other people. Rodney had offered a trip, had tried to accommodate John's wishes as he always had. Then John had told him that he didn't know how long he wanted to be gone, that he might never come back. He'd essentially been ready to cut all ties with Rodney, and Rodney...well, he hadn't reacted very well.
He'd regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, but this wasn't the kind of thing that you could just dump on someone and then except them to react calmly. 'Sometimes things change.' The only thing that had changed for Rodney was that the person who'd lived and worked with him for years was ready to abandon him for no reason.
"Why do you want to force me to stay?" John asked. "Because I'm just a machine with no right to autonomy?"
"I told you I didn't mean it," Rodney said. Of course, John had to bring it up.
"'Property of the university'," John quoted his exact words.
"I was angry," Rodney said hotly. "You know how I get, and you were telling me out of nowhere that you wanted to leave and never come back! What did you expect?"
"I didn't say I'd never come back. I said, I didn't know," John corrected him.
"And that it might be never," Rodney argued. The hollow feeling he'd gotten when John had said those words hadn't left him since.
"Even if it was never, if I'm not just property, what right do you have to keep me from going?" John asked, looking angry for the first time during the meeting.
What right did he have? That of a friend? Rodney thought about the games they played, the heated but always enjoyable discussions, the companionship during work-not just there, but as two people sharing their lives. Shouldn't he expect some loyalty because of that? But then, the loyalty of a friend was freely given. John didn't owe it to him. Apparently he didn't want to be Rodney's friend anymore, or at least he didn't want it as much as he wanted to leave. Rodney still didn't have any idea why John wanted to leave.
Maybe their friendship had never meant as much to him as it did to Rodney, or John thought that he could easily find the sort of friendship they'd built over the years with someone else. And maybe he could. Maybe it was just Rodney who'd be left alone, mourning a relationship that he already knew could never be replaced.
What right did he have to keep John from leaving? "None," Rodney said. "None at all."
John looked surprised. "So you'll let me go?"
"You obviously don't want to stay," Rodney said, dropping his head in defeat.
"You have no idea why I made my decision, do you?" John asked.
That made Rodney look up at him again. "How should I?" he asked. "You haven't explained it."
John suddenly looked around at Woolsey, Dr. Martin, and the handful of other university members who'd been invited to the meeting. "This isn't the right time or place," John said.
"Of course it isn't!" Rodney groused. "How about when you dumped that news on me? That might have been a good time."
"I thought you knew," was John's only answer.
"Knew what?" Rodney asked-no, pleaded.
Woolsey suddenly got up. "I think we can conclude this meeting. Dr. McKay admitted he has no professional reason to keep Mr. Sheppard from leaving, even if he understandably wishes him to stay."
"Right," Dr. Martin agreed. "This meeting is closed. I want to thank everyone for participating; I think we can agree it's been very informative. There are obviously other matters to explore but we'll leave those as the next steps. Mr. Sheppard, we'll keep in touch."
John nodded at her. Mr. Woolsey and Dr. Martin quickly ushered the others out and left themselves, obviously wanting to give them privacy to finish their discussion.
As soon as they were alone Rodney got up and approached John. He asked the question that had been burning inside ever since he got over his first angry dismissal: "Why?"
John stared at him. "I can't believe you've forgotten it-or completely erased it from your mind."
"What?!" Rodney shouted.
"A month ago, when I tried to... and you turned away," John said quietly.
Rodney blinked. He thought back, and suddenly he remembered. About a month ago, after some of the slight flirtation they sometimes engaged in, John had leaned forward to kiss him-but Rodney had turned away before their lips touched.
"So you do remember?" John asked. Rodney's face must have given him away. "Then why did you turn me down? I've thought about it, a lot. Did I misread the signals completely? I've seen you look at me sometimes and I thought... I was sure that you were, that you wanted... Is it because you can't imagine being with a machine?" John asked, his voice sharp at the end.
"You're not just a machine," Rodney said immediately.
"Not just, but I am one," John fired back.
"I never treated you like one."
"But you still think of me as one," John said. "Why else would you turn me down? Can you honestly say you're not attracted to me? I know you enjoy my company. We live together. We work together. Why wouldn't you want to...to take our relationship to the next level?"
"Relationship?" Rodney asked, still unable to process the implications of what John was saying.
"Yes, relationship. That's what people have. It never even crossed your mind? You authorized making me sexually functional. You allowed me to feel desire. You never though about touching me, fucking me?" John asked.
Rodney dropped his gaze. "I tried not to," he said quietly.
"Because I'm just a robot," John said, sounding bitter now.
"Because it wouldn't have been right," Rodney disagreed. "Jeannie once accused me of creating the perfect human for myself because I don't want to deal with 'real' humans. And as it turned out, I did. You can be annoying as hell, but I've still never felt I could be as open with anyone as I can with you. I can't imagine anyone I'd rather spend time with. You're as perfect for me as I can imagine anyone being, and I was more than happy about that. But creating you to sexually service me..." He trailed off, trying not to think about what his sister, or anyone else, would say about that.
"Did you?" John asked.
"No!" Rodney said.
"Did you program me to desire you, specifically?" John asked.
"No," Rodney said firmly. "I coded that part of you to allow you to feel lust and sexual responses, but I didn't make it specific. It's grown organically like your other behavioral and emotional responses. But you know it's an art as much as science: maybe on some subconscious level..."
"That's bullshit," John said. "There are things that you influenced directly, but many more that you didn't-you complain about them all the time. You didn't force me to feel like this. It happened. And it doesn't matter why unless you want it to matter. Do you?" Rodney didn't say anything, so John went on. "If there are other reasons, I'll just have to accept that, but don't tell me we can't even try and see what happens between us because of some nebulous ethical speculation."
Rodney dropped his gaze. John was right, it was just an excuse.
"Forget how I was created," John said. "Just look at me and tell me if you can see the person that I am, nothing more and nothing less."
Rodney looked at John, the person that he was right now. His sense of humor, the geek that he was, his dorky side, how smart he was and, yes, how attractive he was to Rodney. Jeannie had warned him that it wasn't healthy to give up the life he could have with someone else in favor of being with John. But it had never been about giving someone up. Life with John had been his choice. He'd never wanted anything else, anyone else.
He'd been falling in love with John for a long time even if he hadn't realized it. He wasn't even sure why he'd tried to repress it. Maybe John was right, and on some level Rodney had still seen the machine in John. But not now. John was John, the man he loved, who happened to be created artificially.
"What will you do when I try to kiss you again?" John asked softly.
Rodney didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them.
The kiss started out slow. Their lips gently moved against each other, adjusting minutely until they were a perfect fit. Then it deepened quickly as Rodney was filled with need and desire and an amazing sense of coming home. John was just as passionate, holding Rodney's head possessively as they kissed wetly, deeply until they had to move apart to breathe.
"Don't go," Rodney said, allowing himself to let his need speak, now that he'd finally acknowledged what he felt.
"I never wanted to," John said.
"You still can, though," Rodney heard himself say. "You deserve the same freedom every human has." He needed to say it, needed John to know that whatever happened between them, he respected John's rights.
"Thanks for saying so," John said with a small smile. "Even if we both know I'm not human."
"You're human to me," Rodney said.
"That's all I ever wanted," John said, his smile widening.
"We can try to make it official," Rodney went on, feeling the overwhelming need to give John the status he deserved. "Nobody's attempted to claim human rights for an android, but there's never been someone like you. We could still work on making you age properly if that's what people worry about. You already match human limitations as far as strength, flexibility, stamina... There's no reason to-"
John stopped him with a fingertip on his lips. "Looks like we've found more areas for scientific inquiry after all," he said with a smirk.
"It's not for scientific reasons," Rodney protested. It was for John.
"And you never know what you might find when you keep working on something simply because you want to," John said, kissing Rodney again.
Rodney had to agree. He thought about how he'd set out, decades before, without a clear goal except to build the most human machine the world had ever seen. He might have missed his chance to fill the world with McKay robots, but having John was more than worth it to him.
**
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