Mensa AU Fic Exchange: "Of Fools and Lovers" 2/3 for ras_elased
Continued from part one...
Three days later the situation hadn't actually improved much, at last from John's point of view. Rod had been as busy as John himself and Dr. Carter had used every opportunity to insinuate herself into Rod's daily life, effectively keeping him mostly to herself while John grew steadily more angry with the whole situation, but refused to stoop to her methods. He was moderately sure that Rod would prefer to work on him on the equations and programs necessary for the coordination and communication between the connected gates, but not a hundred percent.
A little nagging voice of doubt had started to grow steadily louder with each passing day that didn't bring Rod to either John's quarters or his room to clear things up. Granted, John, not willing to watch the fawning in progress, hadn't exactly made it easy. But he had a right to be angry with Rod after all, the man just refused to listen to reason. Still, it rankled that apparently John's near absence from Rod's daily life didn't bother the other man.
Maybe, just maybe, the possibility that Rod actually wanted to spend his time with the admittedly handsome Dr. Carter really existed. The thought simultaneously made John want to take her head off - if only he could find a viable reason for it - as well as making him want to go back into his room and cocoon himself in his bed so he didn't have to stand by and watch the spectacle.
On a subconscious level, John was aware that he wasn't dealing with the situation. Usually when something or rather someone bothered him, John had no problem letting the object of his irritation know what he thought of them. In this case though... Maybe if he and Rod had ever talked about this thing that had developed between them John wouldn't feel the need to throw valuable lab equipment after the woman every time he had to deal with her. She seemed to have gotten it into her head that Rod had invited her into the project for reasons which had nothing at all to do with their work. Pretty sure of it, too. So, maybe she wasn't completely wrong in her assumptions, and didn't that thought hit just a little too close to his own doubts. John realized he didn't really know if Rod was actually gay or if he'd just grabbed the opportunity to experiment when it had presented itself. There hadn't been mushy declarations of forever or if they should tell people about their affair. There had just been that bright, burning hunger for the other and the need, fueled by the realization that they'd nearly lost the opportunity to experience its consummation.
With past lovers, John had never put much faith into what they told him or fooled himself into thinking that he was more than a convenient outlet for the moment. He got too caught up in his work or had to leave at inopportune moments when an experiment went wrong, things that didn't sit well with people who did ordinary jobs they weren't as invested in as John was to his own work.
With Rod though, things had been different. A fact John only became aware of now that his trust in the bond he had felt existed between them was shaken. He had to admit, if only to himself, that the fact he didn't simply face Rod and got his annoyance about his lover's new shadow out of his system was that he wasn't sure of Rod's reaction anymore. That first evening he'd simply been too tired, too annoyed to give the whole thing much thought. It wasn't the first time they'd spent a night apart after a row, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Though mostly they'd managed to avoid those situations by not letting the anger fester. A nice, clean shouting match managed to do the job quite well, much to Radek's amusement. And it was a strange kind of privilege, of trust on Rod's part to even show his anger to someone, let alone yell at them.
Settling down at his desk with an unhappy droop to his shoulders, John powered up his laptop. There was a lot of work needing to be done and if everyone else was busy fawning over Lt. Colonel Smiley Face out there, at least no one would interrupt his very important research. Maybe he didn't have the right to feel slighted or even jealous, because it was a small possibility that he'd read Rod and his intentions completely wrong.
Sleeping in the same bed nearly every night for the last three months didn't mean this was something more for Rod than a good time with someone who put out and whom he trusted and liked a lot. The man's absence from John's bed these past three nights didn't exactly help him to banish his doubts. Maybe letting Rod get this close had been a mistake on John's part.
Still, it had been nice, having someone of his own, someone he had learned to trust and cared a great deal for even before they'd landed in John's bed. Maybe he was blowing things completely out of proportion, but the fact remained that Rod had ignored him until John had decided to turn the tables on the other man. Rod didn't like to be ignored and John had seen the not quite so covered glances in his direction when Rod was sitting in the mess with his constant fawning little shadow at his side.
* * *
John told himself that it was silly and completely unacceptable for a grown man to starve in an attempt to avoid someone. So, when Radek proposed to accompany him to the mess, John had agreed. When they'd settled down with their trays, laden with stew and their choice of dessert, John attacked his meal as if he hadn't eaten for days, which was partially right.
At first, he'd been too caught up in the project; the next day he'd simply turned and left when he'd seen Rod and Dr. Carter having lunch at their table. He would have missed breakfast today as well, but Teyla had ambushed him and bullied him with smiles and chiding into sitting with her. It had actually been quite relaxing to hear about the scandal some of her proposed changes had caused in the Athosian council. When Rod and his entourage of one had entered the room, John could feel the spoonful of porridge in his mouth turn to concrete. He had made his excuses to Teyla who had looked at him with a smile that spoke of her friendship to him and told John, “I shall see you later for lunch then. You can tell me more about your world and if it will be possible for me to go visit there one day.” After that, she'd let him go, but the glare she'd cast at Rod's back had made him feel better somehow.
She'd probably spoken to Radek about getting John to eat when it became apparent, that she would be kept on new Athos for longer than she'd planned for. Well, sharing a meal with the Czech wasn't exactly a hardship. So he'd went along with their nefarious plan to make him feel better.
Radek and he exchanged some mild insults about the relevance of some of their findings and mocked some of the other departments for their sheer lack of ingenuity. John was already starting in on his desert, when the rest of his team, including Dr. Carter entered the mess.
Squirming in his chair he was about to look for an excuse to leave when he got waylaid by the thought that this whole situation was utterly ridiculous. John took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly to calm himself, and proceeded to continue eating while completely ignoring the reason for his discomfort.
Not one to miss such things, Radek took one look at first him and then Rod and shook his head before asking, “Is new game, yes?”
“What game?” John mumbled around the not-quite-apple-pie he'd been intend on enjoying. Nice taste, crisp but not too sour, he mused absently, pretending to be unaware of Rod's presence only a few feet away.
“Game of who starts to yell, or throw things first. Typical behaviour in the pre-adolescent age group you and Rod haven't outgrown yet.” Radek's eyes sparkled with mischief at John's resulting indignant splutter.
“Yes, yes. I can see courtship ritual in progress. Only, keep the shouting and the throwing of things out of main lab, yes? Not good for morale. Scared scientists make more mistakes. More mistakes mean more overtime for you and me, my friend. Makes you cranky in the mornings.” He grinned, and toasted John with his half empty cup of coffee.
“I'm not cranky,” John protested, albeit smiling a little, sipping at his own tepid brew. He liked the little Czech and Radek was well aware of that. One of the few people who seemed immune to John's temper on the rare occasions he indulged himself, meaning mornings that began too early and without coffee.
“Just, you know, a little concerned, maybe.” Ducking his head, he saw Radek's eyes drift over to where Dr. Carter laughed at something Rod had said.
“Ahh, yes. Is unfortunate timing. Maybe you should go and as you American's say, get your man. He does not look all that happy to me. But what do I know, maybe trying to hide behind Ronon is normal behaviour for fearless leader of yours.”
John swallowed hard. Judging by Radek's sympathetic gaze, John knew that he probably looked pretty pathetic at the moment. Not enough sleep and too much worrying about imbecilic lovers could do that to a person.
“Hiding?” He didn't dare look around, that would be too much like giving in. Radek nodded.
“Is standing in line, trying to get Ronon to stand between him and Dr. Carter.” He looked back at John. “Go, do manly talk and hot make up sex and he will not even notice that she is in the same room as you are.”
Blushing so hard the tips of his ears were burning, John made shushing gestures, not willing to make a spectacle out of himself, even if most people wouldn't pay much attention anyway.
In the guise of stretching some imagined kink out of his back, he cast a swift glance over his shoulder. Yes, there stood Rod with Ronon and Teyla, trying to move Ronon between himself and 'the woman'. Hah. John couldn't help but feel a little bit better after witnessing Rod's growing discomfort. Maybe Rod wasn't as oblivious to dear Dr. Carter's intentions any longer. Still, John was so checking out her personnel file when he was sure no one was looking. He hadn't done any work with Rod's and her section of the project yet, so he had nothing to judge her expertise on.
She was probably a faker anyway. John had known enough people like that, both during his time at university and with the military. All it took was some good genes that made one pleasant to look at and a bit of charm and most people would take you at face value instead of questioning what all the pretty words were supposed to hide. Made one wonder about the average intelligence of the majority of the population...John had the sinking feeling that he should get this mess sorted out before he made even less sense to himself.
* * *
After parting ways with Radek, John found himself in front of the doors to his private lab. A place he came to when he wanted to work on special projects either alone or with Rod, Radek or Miko and where he kept his backup files in neatly labeled folders. Ever since the spectacular power failure, direkt result of the fiddling some new, wet behind the ears little would-be-scientist who thought his lecture-hall knowledge was so much cooler than what Radek's safety protocols said had done, John and Radek had re-discovered the value of the printed page. Rod had teased him about his obsession with developing the best filing system and they'd argued quite amicably about the whole mess and how best to deal with the unfortunate miscreant. John almost felt sorry for the guy, Radek had been surprisingly creative in his choice of punishment.
A bit annoyed at himself for even caring enough to contemplate spending more of his precious time on the subject, John started to dig through personnel files and mission reports to find out who the pretty little impostor had bribed to get here.
Half an hour of frantic typing, inter-spaced with a lot of cursing and the wish for certain people to simply go back to whence they'd come from later, he found what he was looking for.
After reading through the hacked files, John wished he hadn't. Well, well, it appeared as if Lt. Dr. Samantha Carter was the real deal. Morosely, he backtracked, undoing what he had done to leave no traces of his sneaking into places he wasn't allowed to go since leaving the Air Force. By now John was sorry he'd even bothered. An upstart he could have handled easily, but this? Even if she wasn't quite the genius he and Rodney were, she was at least on a level with Radek. No matter what Radek had said, John's day officially couldn't get any worse, or so he thought.
* * *
Despite the fact that every member of his team seemed to think he'd taken leave of his senses, Rod was well aware of what it was that Dr. Carter wanted from him. He just wasn't sure what to do to make her understand that he wasn't interested in her 'that way'.
Rod knew he had a 'thing' as John liked to call it, about being rude or even less than perfectly polite to women. Well, to women who didn't actively threaten either his life or that of his team mates with deadly objects or fire-pits, anyway. And, while starting to be a bit annoying, not to say unsettling in the extreme if he was honest with himself, Rod respected Dr. Carter enough as a fellow scientist to try and avoid hurting her feelings if possible.
Samantha was intelligent, easy to talk to and fun to be around, and Rod had enjoyed spending time with her talking about mutual acquaintances. Things had started to get a bit strange after that first evening though. The next day, she had blithely assumed that she was invited to their shared meals which didn't go over well with either Sheppard or Teyla, neither of whom was fond of strangers at 'their' table during mealtime. Ronon had just grunted, smirked, and commented about her 'assets' when she had gone for a re-fill. Elizabeth probably had worn the poor man out. He was normally much more coherent at this time of day, and Elizabeth had barely made it in time for their morning briefing today. Lucky them, Rod thought. A little envious about the apparent ease with which those two handled their relationship, Rod had thought of the previous night and how strangely unsettling it had been to lie in his own bed for once; missing the rangy body that had lain beside him for enough nights now that its absence made Rod's sleep fitful, filled with uncomfortable dreams he'd rather forget.
Rod had thought the situation would - as always - take care of itself. When John would find him, he'd yell at Rod for being oblivious to things, again and Rod would allow himself to yell back, until this dreadful constriction around his heart had gone away and the warmth was back in his lover's gaze. It was amazing, how fast John could freeze a person out with his change in expression and demeanor alone. It was as if another person stood there, a person he'd only caught glimpses of when the lives of either Rod himself or their other two team mates was in danger. A change few of the other resident's of Atlantis would ever get to see, of that Rod was sure. Seeing John bent over some ancient texts or equations with his reading glasses perched on his nose, one tended to forget that the man was combat trained as well as a sharpshooter, besides being their best pilot. Rod felt out of his depth and a deep regret for the fact that he'd let his exhaustion and his own exasperation get the better of him.
Things with the project had started to get more interesting than hoped for and Rod hadn't given Samantha's strange behaviour much thought. For the rest of the second day of her stay, he had been lost in thoughts about the new possibilities their gate-harvesting project would open up for both Earth and Atlantis. Maybe Jeannie could finally come for a visit.
After telling her of his strange adventure in the 'other' McKay's Atlantis, she had teased him about his description of the man. Rodney McKay had been nothing like him, yet, curiously, his team seemed to hold him in high regard, even if they didn't tell the man that to his face. Despite talking of their adventures and teasing his flustered alter-ego, there had been something quite proprietary as well as protective in the way they'd reacted when 'their' Rodney was teased by anyone outside the team. Especially Sheppard had made it felt that he was the one who knew what made his Rodney tick. Rod pitied anyone who tried to harm Rodney McKay. Rod hadn't been quite sure about the more intimate aspects of their friendship and had thought it prudent not to ask. Still, the man's reaction to Rod's fabricated version of Rod's own Sheppard had been quite fun.
Which brought him back to thoughts about his own version of John Sheppard, team mate, and sometimes annoying thorn in his side as well as his lover. Rod knew he hadn't handled things too well that first evening back from Fiorah's planet. Trying to evade what could only be a severe dressing down from his riled up lover he'd been guilty of taking Samantha's presence as an excuse to shelve the dreaded discussion for the time being.
Rod had meant to catch up with John later, after getting Samantha settled in and taking a shower himself to get rid of what felt like half the planet, judging by the state of his clothes and the itching sand beneath his shirt. Only, when he'd stepped out of his shower he'd been feeling worn out and tired and considering that John'd probably felt the same and would most probably not be in a forgiving mood, he had decided to talk to John in the morning.
Somehow, though, it never happened. After that first somewhat hectic day, he hadn't been able to achieve the hoped for privacy to talk to his stubborn lover. Every time he turned around there she was, Sam Carter, full of questions and compliments. And little by little it had dawned on Rod that he had made an error in judgement yet again. Starting with the moment when he had allowed her to call him by his first name. Her overtly enthusiastic smile should have been his first clue. If John would ever deign to speak to him again, he was so in for it.
Now, three days had passed and the most he'd seen of John was a swish of his lab-coat when he turned a corner or entered a transporter before Rod could catch up to him. When John did show up in the mess-hall at all, he either sat with Radek under the guise of talking about their work, simply ignored him or that one time with Teyla in which case he'd simply refused to look up from his plate until Rod and Samantha had left. Rod felt more familiar with his lover's crazy hair by now than with his face. He'd probably be able to pick John out of a crowd by his hair alone.
It was becoming unacceptable, not to mention quite annoying. And Rod felt hurt by John's avoidance. He'd thought they had done away with any misconceptions and doubts as to where they stood with each other, but it appeared he'd been wrong. Much to his annoyance, the thought both frightened him and hurt as hell. He trusted John and had given the other man no reason to doubt Rod's own sincerity, at least in his opinion.
When he'd finally had enough, Rod simply took refuge in John's favourite lab, feeling a bit silly for sitting here and virtually laying a trap for his errant lover. But his bed had felt too big for comfort the past couple of nights. Also, he'd really love to get a good night's sleep again sometime soon which appeared to require the presence of one John Sheppard in said bed with him. Strange really, to miss something that he'd barely had the time to get used to.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and leant back in his favourite visitor's chair. He felt unsettled, on edge. As if one wrong move could shatter the foundations on which Rod had built his life here in Atlantis into a million pieces. Still, despite his worries he managed to relax a little, surrounded by the familiar smells of John, ink and paper.
* * *
It was the raised voices in the outer lab that jolted Rod awake again. Apparently Sam Carter had found John first and, surprise, surprise they'd found they didn't agree at all on things each of them was used to doing differently.
Rod couldn't make out everything that was said because of the closed door between John's private lab and the outer lab area, reserved for the more competent members of John's team of scientists. It sounded as if Sam had thought she was smarter than John and told him off for doing something she thought was superfluous. Bad decision, really bad decision Rod thought. First of all, Rod was pretty sure that she wasn't smarter than John, even if he'd never say that out loud, except maybe under duress, and second... well, it was always a bad idea to tell John his methods weren't up to par, because they usually weren't. One tended to invariably lose the argument and John would be smugly superior for the rest of the day.
Feeling only the slightest twinge of guilt, Rod tried to make out more of their argument. Something about the stupidity of people making assumptions without knowing all the facts and the remark that keeping back-up files on paper was somewhat antiquated and something about control freaks, followed by a loud crash. Uh, oh.
Suppressing his instinct to go out there and make sure John was all right, he tried to open the door, almost getting bowled over by an irate John Sheppard in the process.
Looking around the doorframe before the doors could close again, Rod squinted after the retreating figure of his very own stalker. He shook his head - how very unsettling to be someone's obsession, even if the insane lady was pretty as well as smart. Still, he preferred his lovers to be on the more rational side of life. Yet, maybe he had made an error in judgement there as well, Rod mused, when he turned around to find the lab's other remaining occupant and proclaimed owner settling down at his desk, all the while scowling at Rod for no apparent reason.
Whatever had caused Sheppard's 'I-shall-kick-you-out-of-here-in-no-time-if-you-so-much-as-breathe-the-wrong-way' expression, Rod decided it was better to do some damage control now before finding out what had instigated it in the first place. Well, judging by what he had been able to overhear, Rod had a pretty good idea about part of the cause anyway.
“Do you think she should be out there walking the corridors unsupervised?“ Rod mused out loud, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He smiled when his effort earned him an annoyed huff. At least this was better than the silence. Even a pre-verbal Sheppard was better than a totally quiet one. And, John didn't look as if he'd like nothing better than to maim something any longer. For a man who liked to sleep in whenever at all possible, who loathed any kind of activity that wasn't strictly necessary, Sheppard's tendency to threaten others with bodily harm was decidedly odd. Probably a throwback to his military days, Rod mused. Ambling closer to Sheppard's desk, curious what kind of reception he would receive for making the effort to get John out of his funk, Rod tried again.
“I'm not encouraging her to follow me everywhere, you know“, he looked at the head of messy hair that refused to move from its current position, bent over some charts and reports Sheppard was pretending to work on. Receiving only a barely audible grunt in reply which - knowing Sheppard as Rod did - could mean nothing at all or could contain the key to Sheppard's latest discoveries, depending on the man's mood, didn't do much to ease Rod's apprehension.
Judging by the way Sheppard refused to look up, it probably meant 'go-away-and-bother-someone-else', but they already hadn't had this conversation once, Rod was intend on making sure that wouldn't happen this time. All Sheppard had done was to assume the worst, and Rod couldn't let it go. He kept worrying at the thought of Sheppard's lack of trust in him, like a scab one keeps picking at despite the knowledge that it was best left alone until healed.
While he watched John's hands move along the edges of the papers, splaying over the sheets that had been scattered all over the surface of the man's workspace and gathering them together just so; slim fingers curving around the corners of the collected printouts to shaped them into one, neat package, Rod felt almost envious of the paperwork. John had wonderful hands, slim and strong. Slightly calloused both from weapons practice and the work they did on the ancient tech throughout the city. The back-rubs the man was capable of giving when the mood struck him or in apology when one of their arguments had gotten away from them, where a treat Rod wouldn't share with anyone else ever if given the choice.
Rod felt something unsettling scurrying around inside him, making him want to go over there and take the blasted papers away from the silent man. Anything to make him look up and recognize Rod's presence here with a bit more than this barely concealed contempt.
“Do I really act like that, John?“ he couldn't help it; drawing close to the man, noticing how the slender shoulders stiffened a bit as if gathering for an attack verbal or otherwise, and Rod didn't have the faintest clue what he had done to deserve such treatment.
“Whatever it is I'm supposed to have done, I hereby apologize, okay. Will you tell me already what the hell is wrong with you?“ A sharply indrawn breath from his silent companion had Rod lean closer, trying again to catch the gaze of the down-turned eyes.
„Come on John, please. I don't deserve this, you know I don't...“ straightening up, he carded both hands through his short hair, making it stand up almost like John's had done when the Tennerians had been through with the ceremony that was supposed to honor the 'Descendant of the Masters'. John had not been amused.
„How am I to apologize when you won't even tell me what I'm supposed to have done?“ God, he was tired, and John was being difficult and simply, well, John...
The dark head finally lifted and John glanced at him over the rims of his reading glasses, looking more like a student than the highly skilled mathematician, pilot and beloved of the ancient city of Atlantis that he was.
Green eyes, still devoid of their usual warmth, regarded him with a wary caution Rod hadn't been treated to for months now. “Do what, exactly?“ John asked, making it quite obvious that he didn't relish this interruption of his work and rather wished Rod would go and bother someone else.
“Well, I...“, and suddenly, it came to him. It wasn't Rod's fault at all. It had started with Samantha Carters' arrival, had progressed due to his lack of awareness of her intentions, true. The fact remained that, apparently, all it took to shake John's faith in him was a combination of bad luck and an obsessed woman that probably should have stayed back on earth until she had recovered from nearly being stoned to death. Nothing to make one aware of one's own mortality as fast as an assault with primitive yet deadly weapons. Made one do the stupidest things, like imagining being in love with someone one didn't even know.
Why should Rod assume responsibility for her misinterpretation of his motives? It wasn't his fault she thought that Rod should be declared the next best thing to discovering stable wormholes really existed. He had never consciously laid eyes on Sam Carter before she'd arrived here three days ago. Hell, he had barely recognized her from his short stay at Stargate Command where their paths must have crossed in the past. It simply was in Rod's nature to be friendly to his colleagues, nothing wrong with making a little small talk on occasion or telling people you appreciated their work. Most certainly not enough of a reason to get all huffy, and insulting at least in Rod's opinion.
That was just plain ridiculous. “John,” he tried again.
“What?” The scowl on his face could have curdled milk. “She's your little stalkerette, you deal with her. Or maybe you'd rather-”
“Oh no, don't you even dare go there, Sheppard.” Rod could have strangled the idiot, except that would somehow defeat the purpose of this whole stupid argument.
He saw John swallow hard. “We never made any promises, I realize that, and I could understand it if you... liked her.”
Dear good, the man was truly exasperating enough for two. “For someone who prides himself on his observation skills, you can be decidedly stupid, you realize that?” At least that got him more of a reaction. For a short moment John's eyes had shown confusion and a bit of hurt before he looked away again.
John's eyes wandered back to the papers, now clutched in a near stranglehold that threatened to undo all the careful scuffling and sorting. Knowing John, the man would most likely regret that action in the morning and print out the whole thing again, Sheppard could be obsessively neat like that.
Well, Rod mused, two could play that game and he wasn't going anywhere until this misunderstanding of biblical proportions between them had been resolved. Enough was enough and whatever it was that, in the recesses of his admittedly brilliant mind, John imagined Rod had done, Rod would give him proof that John was just plain wrong.
If John wanted non-verbal, he'd give him exactly what he wanted. Leaning over the space between them, towering over the seated man, Rod made a grab for his distracted lover, intent on winning the argument Sheppard apparently wasn't willing to have.
* * *
Continued from part two...
Upon returning to her room, Sam was fuming. That man was not only extremely rude, he was also, quite obviously of the opinion that she was stupid. How could she have known that her innocent remark would provoke this kind of angry reaction from Sheppard?
All she'd wanted to know was why he insisted on using paper printouts as a backup for the basic research they'd done around the city. It was a rather outdated way to keep track of things, in her opinion.
Whatever the man had against her, she hadn't the faintest clue. She had never seen him before coming to Atlantis, had known him by reputation only, which admittedly hadn't given her the highest of hopes concerning their future work on the same team and she'd barely spoken more than absolutely necessary to him.
She let herself fall backwards onto the mattress, crossing her arms behind her head to contemplate the high ceiling.
The thought, when it occurred to her made her sit up again. Maybe, the poor soul was jealous. Of course, that just had to be it. She knew she was reasonably good looking, make that very attractive, even if she did say so herself. She'd had to deal with more than one colleague who'd had developed a crush on her, and dealt with it in a what she thought of as a professional manner.
Maybe she should talk to Rod about it. After all, the poor man was on Rod's team, maybe he could speak to him man-to-man or whatever these stupid 'keeping-ones-manly-honour-intact-while-being-told-off' rituals did entail.
More relaxed now that she'd found a solution for her dilemma, Sam lay back on the bed again, considering her next plan of action. Maybe she ought to sleep on it.
Half an hour later, she was still tossing and turning. Sam couldn't sleep. She was sure that she had managed to impress Dr...no, Rod. She smiled to herself. Hadn't that been sweet. “Call me Rod“, he'd said to her, „we are colleagues, after all, no need for such formalities, don't you agree?“ and he'd smiled at her, the same charming smile she'd looked at, every night before she went to bed, for the last few months now.
Back on earth, she had been happy to find a picture of him that didn't scream 'Important Scientific Researcher' at her when looking at it. In the evening newspaper someone had left laying around the cafeteria in Colorado Springs, there had been a portrait of him. In it, Dr. McKay was looking at someone off camera, probably his sister, as this was from an interview he'd given while visiting his family in Toronto. It had been the first time Sam had seen him wearing casual clothes as well as a smile that had, at the time, made her even more determined to finally meet the man.
They had so much in common, after all. Both of them enjoyed new technologies they were allowed to study long before someone else even had a notion that such things as time-travel or stable wormholes really did exist outside of science fiction novels, and, of course, the limelight and the prestige that came with their research, as well. At least the part of it the public was allowed to know about, but that secrecy would change someday. The leaders of the countries involved in the stargate program were slowly working up to the point when they could make the gates public knowledge without causing an outright panic.
And when that day finally arrived she and Rod would be able to choose were they wanted to live. Probably here, she surmised. She'd love to live and work here in Atlantis, even though some of her future colleagues-to-be left something to be desired in their acceptance of her value in this new venture of theirs. After all, Rod had recruited her specifically for the new gate-project because of her experience with the different types of gates SG-1 had encountered over the years. No lab could simulate the various ways a stargate could be made to work, without wasting a lot of time and money, not to mention resources in the form of the people who had to work through all the simulations. No, including her hard gained, first-hand knowledge would be much more efficient of that she was sure.
Although, the object of her affections hadn't been quite as easy to impress as she'd hoped, one had to go slow and not scare people off for being too obsessive. After all, she had managed to get to call him by his first name. A day after that, she had been introduced to the rest of his team, even if they were a somewhat stoic bunch - she'd thought that at least Ronon would have been a little more relaxed around her from the way she'd heard others describe him - and Dr. Sheppard kept squinting at her as if she was something he'd like to dissect, even if he wasn't a member of the biology department. Having Rod smile, at her, had made it all worthwhile though.
Sighing, she turned over on her unfamiliar bed, smaller than the one she had at home yet less saggy and roomier than the cots in the mountain she'd become used to, and stared at the ceiling again. She had to do more than this, to get the man's attention. He probably thought she was only interested in his research and his function as head of the science department, which wasn't the case at all. Maybe she should have started out their conversation on a more personal manner instead of talking about work.
Another sigh, another five minutes of tossing and turning and Sam decided that enough was enough and then a simple but brilliant plan occurred to her. She knew exactly what she had to do to make things clear to the good doctor.
* * *
Continued in part three...