Not Another Chair Story
Story 4 - Donald, Where's Your Trousers?
Written 2009-present.
There wasn't a single day that no one drank coffee on Atlantis, and in each cup trouble seemed to start brewing almost immediately. Curling fingers around her particular mug of worries to warm her fingers, still thawing after a good half hour standing out on the balcony and counting to a hundred to calm the gnawing strain around her temples, Elizabeth Weir surveyed the people assembled in the briefing room.
Never in her life had four carbon based lifeforms caused her so much grief. Her free hand rested over a pile of paper, which was excessive enough to cause pain to any tree. Between her fingers were lines of text she'd rather not see again. Two reports Elizabeth counted on the outpost incident from John and Rodney, but there was something unspoken between the two members of the team not from Earth.
Two weeks ago, the Pegasus Galaxy had lost the better part of a solar system and a rift had opened up between all of them, strangely. Two weeks ago, Elizabeth had attempted to discern anything in long arguments with each member of Atlantis' foremost team about the past fortnight.
Now, she watched as Rodney deliberately seated himself at the end of the table, successfully putting Ronon between him and Colonel Sheppard. Teyla seemed happy enough standing up, one hand clasped over the elbow of her other arm.
"There are two things that concern me at the moment," Elizabeth began slowly. "Let's begin with the easiest, as I'm sure we'll need some more time with my second point. First of all, has anyone seen Carson in the past week or so?"
Rodney's head lifted somewhat and he frowned. "Oh clearly, I have nothing better to occupy myself with than to stalk Carson. What else could I possibly be doing?"
"I only ask because Nena has relayed her concern to me," Dr Weir pressed.
John leaned forward in his chair, musing, "Come to think of it, I haven't exactly seen our good king anywhere. I was checking out the infirmary a couple of days ago and I had to speak to Dr Biro instead."
"How did you escape Biro?" Ronon questioned.
"I was polite. Biro will leave you alone if you actually say goodbye before walking off."
"Ronon has been experiencing some difficulty with polite conversation," Teyla murmured, but not quietly enough to disguise a hard edge in her voice.
"He's not the only one – at least he doesn't shut a transporter door in my face!" Rodney added, glaring around the Satedan at John.
Elizabeth set down her mug with a bang. "Enough!"
Silence reigned. Somewhere in the corridor outside, a lone soul sneezed loudly. Further beyond that, barely discernible to anyone in the briefing room, was the heated exchange between Chuck and Peter about who exactly was supposed to be on gate duty that morning. And further still out of their range, completely out of human perception, Nena busily hunted through codes and algorithms for her mysteriously absent husband.
But none of this mattered right then.
"I shouldn't have to listen to this." Elizabeth's voice sliced through the woolly atmosphere of the room. "How can I be expected to have any confidence in your team at this point in time? This brings me to the other reason I called you here. I do not have the full picture, but it is clear to me that recent events may have...tested how you perceive each other for the moment. I fail to see how this has continued for so long. While it may seem to you that I have more important things to deal with, this is probably the one that causes me the most stress."
"It was not our intention," Teyla informed her.
"I am aware of that, but it doesn't solve this particular problem."
"There's nothing to solve," Ronon growled.
Sensing another outpouring of complaints and verbal jabs, Elizabeth stood up and held out a sheet of paper. Once their eyes had been drawn to it, she explained, "On this you will find a set of trust exercises. You have until sundown to complete them. This should not be too difficult but if it is, don't expect me to let you back into the field until you give me a good enough reason to."
Dr Elizabeth Weir nodded briskly to each of them and left at a dignified pace, chin high and hands pressed against each other in front of her. The moment the revolving doors shut behind her, she acknowledged the entity beside her. "You're sure they can't get out of the room?"
A slow, devious grin formed on Nena's face. "They can try…"
"Have you heard anything from Carson?" Elizabeth asked as both women continued towards the control room.
"This is not the first time my love has run away from me. He seems to think I have a bad temper, but I do not know why he holds this belief."
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and smiled wryly at her companion. "From what he told me about your courtship, I can't fault Carson for that."
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," chortled the entity of Atlantis. "I just...wish he would talk to me. Humans can be so frustrating! And so thoughtless! It is hard enough to find babysitters among those in your expedition, without having to ask them to do it for so long!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson Beckett had stopped hiding. Now he was trapped.
Since there were very few blind spots in the systems of Atlantis, he'd had to choose less than pleasing conditions to base himself in. At first, a lower section of the city that was prone to flooding had been his home – until he'd woken up one morning with his feet in a puddle of water and a sniffle creeping down his nostrils.
He loved Nena, he really did. But if the lass expected him to sit down easily to have this talk, then he was going to do the only thing he could.
Run. Hide. Repeat. A common mantra for any male who found themselves in the precarious position of offending a chair.
Finally, the damp and misery became a little too much. Tempted into the systems by the thought of decent bed rest and a good stiff drink, perhaps a make-up kiss (or more) with his wife, Carson had set out into the main corridors…
This had, naturally, been a mistake of extremely epic proportions.
He'd been abducted.
By his own daughter.
Entombed in a set of green and blue letters, fighting against the constricting laws of Lantean technology that randomly decided to change every few seconds, it had nearly driven Carson mad. It then took an extra forty-eight hours for him to realise that the reason none of it made any sense was because a wee bairn of no more than a few months months old had constructed his prison.
Meredith, I'm not going to pretend I understand any of this, he probed gently, but can ye at least tell yer mum where I am?
Of course she might not yet have a grasp of the English language, but the sensation that bounced back at him could only be described as an electronic raspberry. Good Lord, his own abilities had been hacked by a mere baby! His own daughter!
Won't Uncle Rodney be pleased that yer just as clever and annoying as yer namesake?
A light query touched his senses, shyly weaving warmth through his very being. Carson started at feeling the connection opening between them and then embraced it. Forgetting for a moment that he wasn't going anywhere fast, he flushed his love back through the link to Meredith, willing it to surround her with light and energetic scrambles of programming.
I love ye. Always know that yer da loves ye.
Da, Meredith repeated back at him. Da.
Now then I don't suppose ye have a mind to letting me go?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.
A bear-shaped shadow eclipsed Rodney, set to the soundtrack of a low rumble in Ronon's throat. The scientist rolled his eyes and slipped off his watch. Holding it up and making a show of it, Rodney then tucked it into his pocket. Ronon slanted back the other way. Meanwhile, Teyla had finally taken the chair beside John and was doing her best to remain quiet and composed, though her eyes narrowed with each glance at the men of her team.
Nodding at her briefly, Sheppard coughed and reached for the paper. It skipped past his fingertips and headed down towards Ronon. John leaned over just as the Satenda blew out a breath. A brief flutter heralded yet a little more distance down the table. Sheppard lunged from hsi seat and tackled the wayward piece of paper. Rodney snorted. John held up a hand at him for silence and slid back into his chair.
Pressing his lips together for a few seconds, John then announced, "The first exercise is called Mine Field."
"Does it say what the blast radius of the mines has to be?" Ronon asked, eyes flicking around the confines of the room, clearly wondering if the room was big enough for such a game.
"Comforting," Rodney muttered.
Casting an exasperated grimace away with a small shake of her head, Teyla took the paper from John and read it herself. "It does not appear that any mines are used. This exercise requires items to be placed on the floor and for a blindfolded person to be directed through by a partner's instructions."
"Sheppard, permission to get some mines from the armoury?"
"Denied, but be prepared for that order," John told him, and quickly smirked with the sudden forethought that Ronon might take him seriously. Not that John hadn't thought of it. Nooo. "Teyla, Rodney, any ideas?"
"Colonel, remove your shoes."
Okay, that seemed simple enough. And it even made a little sense – what else were they supposed to use? John also had the sneaking suspicion that the door wouldn't open if he asked it to, though he didn't blame Elizabeth for that. It probably helped to be in cahoots with the queen of Atlantis.
Swiveling sideways in his chair, the Colonel threw his feet up in the air and his shoes sailed across the table before smacking into the wall. This settled, he gestured towards his other team mates, then added, "Alright, if this is a trust exercise you're going to have to get used to calling me John. All of you. But don't catch me hearing it in the field."
"Very well…John," Teyla acknowledged and carefully unlaced her sneakers.
"Are you seriously considering playing along with this?" Rodney crossed his arms and didn't budge. He might have swung his feet for good measure, but such an action would be childish and he most certainly wasn't going to stoop to...okay, so he did swing. But only once and it was entirely justified. "You realise these time-wasting exercises were created by people who only managed to scrape into an arts degree and are designed to make people doubt each other?"
To Ronon, it was pretty simple. "We are following Dr Weir's orders."
"And believe me, Elizabeth can set her mind to things," John said feelingly. "I say we play along. For now."
"Agreed," said Teyla.
"What? You need my permission to make yourselves look stupid?"
Ronon planted a foot on the seat of Rodney's chair, giving the scientist only a second's notice to move his legs apart. Spluttering indignantly, the scientist didn't manage to form a retort before the Sateda shoved his chair away from the table. Ronon took each of Rodney's feet in a shovel-sized hand before ripping the footwear off.
Soon enough, eight shoes littered a patch of the floor. Taking in the sour pinch twisting Rodney's face, John thought that he'd rather dance through a real mine field than force his team mate to go along with it. But the scientist deserved a little talking down after the exploding solar system incident, trust or not.
"Who wants to go first?" John asked brightly. "I vote Rodney with Ronon."
"I thought the objective was to partner with someone I do not wish to hit the mines."
"You – tell me you heard that!" Rodney exclaimed at John.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Radek Zalenka was very pleased. He had been ever since he'd received word that Rodney would be held up somewhere for the day. An entire day! This meant he was free to do whatever he wished, so the first order of business was to break Rodney's carefully instated Cone of Silence in their department.
And now he finally had the right ambience with which to multitask, a sacred art that the men in his family had the good grace to inherit, given the correct ingredients. His young nephew could not only wreak destruction on every piece of furniture not nailed down, but also recite Hussite Era poetry and still have enough brain power to grin evilly. All that was required was a babysitter with minimal patience for his sister's son and the multitasking would begin.
Zelenka did not like to remember such incidents. He abandoned that turn of thought and focused on equations involving wormhole theory and programming for his self-styled chess game on the computer. Occasionally he scribbled a few notes on how best to regain his previous position as Atlantis' black market expert, basking in the background murmuring of unharried scientists.
Then his computer screen blipped.
He blinked slowly and prayed.
It blipped again. His carefully resolved coding exploded into nothingness, replaced by one word.
HELP
"Carson?" Radek ventured.
Need help. Subroutine blocking...can't get…
Nose touching the screen, Radek squinted over the rim of his glasses. He mouthed through his programming. Ah, so he had mistakenly stumbled somewhere in the Ancient database that even Rodney did not dare to flex his intellect. The screen wavered and flickered.
Zelenka threw aside his mouse, perched the keyboard on his lap and set to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a show of good faith, possibly brought on by the reproving stare of Teyla, John had decided that it was his duty as CO to take the plunge. What he hadn't counted on was Rodney gleefully rising to the occasion and, having been passed a blindfold from Ronon (no one was very sure they wanted to ask where the Satedan had procured such a thing), the scientist wrapped it around John's eyes. So far, so good...except it took some arguing before each step could be taken around the shoes forming their danger zone.
"Rodney, it's not that I don't trust you...it's that I don't exactly trust your judgement," Colonel Sheppard shot from one corner of his mouth.
"Great, so why are you bothering to listen to me? What would you propose for getting through a mine field – oh right using the Force. Why didn't we think of that before?"
"Should have let them use real mines," Ronon said aside to Teyla.
She didn't exactly voice a disagreement.
John blew out a loud breath. "I can still hear what you're all saying, you know. Rodney, look, I can forgive you for blowing up a solar system. What I can't forgive is you always assuming you're right and then not trusting my judgement enough when it concerns your own damn safety."
"I said I was sorry," Rodney grumbled. "Two steps right to leave the mine field, or you're free to go right on not trusting my mostly reliable judgement, if it does anything for your Kirk-sized ego."
Trying not to envision scrubbing any smug look off his team mate's face with the floor, John began his last two steps to freedom. One step...deep breath...and then he smacked bodily into something blocking his path.
"Uh, hullo everyone. I don't suppose any of ye are willing to give me some clothes?"
John skidded back in shock and his feet caught on a 'mine'. Flung over onto his back, he pulled hard at the blindfold until it slipped over his hair, mussing it in a way that wasn't entirely disagreeable. Standing over him, holding out a hand and completely starkers was Carson Beckett, king of Atlantis.
"Did I miss something?" Sheppard said flatly.
"Naked," was Rodney's projection.
Carson gripped John's wrist and helped the Colonel to his feet. John kept a good distance away following this, though he did grin openly at the CMO's predicament. Teyla's hands ghosted over John's shoulders, tugging off his jacket and offering it to the new arrival. Nodding in thanks to her as he wrapped it around his waist, Carson said, "I think I'm the one who's missing something, donnae ye think?"
"Carson, you're...naked."
"Well yes, I realise this, Rodney," the doctor responded patiently. "My wee lass wasnae exactly in a good mood."
John chuckled. "Nena finally found you, huh?"
"No, it was Meredith. She trapped me."
"What'd she do that for?" Ronon asked, striding over to pick up his boots.
"I think because I abandoned Nena and so Meredith was tryin' ta teach me a lesson."
"I'd say she's not wrong there, doc," John pointed out. "Nena told me about the times you used to run from her. You're lucky she didn't freeze up the city like last time."
Rodney nodded quickly, finally able to stop staring at his friend. "Right yes, frozen city bad - that's not going to happen again is it? I fell through the ice once and it's not an experience I care to - "
"Occupational hazard of dating a chair, I'm afraid," Carson said, then indicated the mess on the floor. "What nonsense are ye getting up to?"
Bending down to scoop up her own shoes, Teyla set a strained smile on her face. Once her feet were again clad, she explained, "Elizabeth wished us to partake in trust exercises."
"Good Lord, did it really get this bad?"
"We...we were working on it," John said defensively. "Weren't we, Rodney?"
Ronon looked between John and the scientist, then shrugged. "There are worse things than destroying a solar system."
"Oh I'm sure you can think of some!" Rodney snapped.
Ignoring the rest of the diatribe forming between the other men, Carson turned to the Athosian and rested his hand on her arm, leading her towards the table. He asked guardedly, "Teyla, love, have they been like this all day?"
"Unfortunately yes..."
"Well ye know what we need ta do then?"
"Get Rodney smashed!" shouted John.
"Smashing McKay, when do we start?" Ronon wanted to know.
Rodney snorted. "Oh ha-hah. Wait...did you mean that as a joke or are you just mocking me? He's mocking me!"
Pressing the side of her hand against her face, Teyla closed her eyes briefly. After the lines crossing her forehead faded, she said, "I believe I should excuse myself. There are things I must attend to on the mainland and I...have no wish to lose my senses to drink. It does the worst to good men."
"I'm not going to kill anyone, unless they try to kill me first," Ronon assured her.
"I am glad to hear that."
"You still mad?"
"Considerably less so. The trust...may take longer."
Ronon reached back to scratch at his scalp, unconcerned. "I can live with that."
"You need someone to fly you over, Teyla," John supplied.
"I suspected you would make such a suggestion."
"And…?"
"Very well, John. You may lead."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No one batted an eyelid when five people exited the briefing room instead of four. The lunch break on Atlantis was a sacred hour, so it was down to very few to notice how the escapees (one wearing barely a stitch of clothing) skirted the corridors, forging an unhurried path towards the 'Jumper bay. One pitstop was allowed on the way – just long enough for Carson Beckett to reveal his latest stash of beer in plain brown boxes – and a spare set of clothes.
"For medicinal purposes only, yes?" the doctor said, eyes wide and innocent.
"I'm surprised Nena hasn't done away with this," John reflected. "We all know what happened last time."
Carson's cheeks tightened, but no dimples appeared. "Oh God, Nena. She must know I'm here. What do I tell her?"
Ronon loomed in the door way, waving them out into the corridor. His advice was, "Depends which will hurt more – telling the truth right now or staying off the radar a little longer."
"I would not suggest that you come with us," Teyla said.
This sounded perfectly logical to Carson's ear, but by the time it reached his brain the translation had been lost somewhat. His solution was to simply escort them to the 'Jumper. Then leave. Aye, that would do it.
"Dr Weir is twenty metres that way," Ronon informed them, pointing back over his shoulder.
"Shit," John muttered. "Leg it!"
Just as he started forward, his footfall landed hard on the untied laces of Rodney's shoes. The scientist pitched forward and only just managed to throw his hands out in front of him. Grabbing the back of Rodney's shirt, Sheppard hauled his team mate halfway up and almost dragged him down the floor. The soles of Rodney's sneakers squealed like a banshee stepping on a cat.
"Hopeless, aren't this lot?" Carson sighed and exchanged an anxious look with Teyla. Without much encouragement, they jogged after the other miscreants, both trying to balance gravity with boxes that felt as heavy as stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite the inability for anyone else to find the spectacle worth noting, it failed to be ignored by the city's expedition leader. Elizabeth opened her mouth and watched them leave, holding out an empty hand, palm up, ready to gesture them back towards her. She closed her fingers into a fist and rapped it against her PDA absently before asking herself out loud, "Should I be worried?"
A cascade of light and white noise burst into being beside her. Nena's green eyes were flaming with sharpening pixels that were the last part of her to complete in the transfer. The entity of Atlantis immediately surged forward and Elizabeth hurried to keep pace with her. Clearly, there was more than a simple greeting on Nena's mind.
"My husband has some explaining to do," Nena said.
Elizabeth snagged her elbow with a well chosen grip, glad that Nena had become corporeal for the encounter. "No wait...they're up to something."
"But Carson – "
"Nena, while I don't approve of the way my CMO has treated you the past week," Weir began gently, "this is exactly the sort of improvement I was hoping for."
"I do not intend to yell at him, if that's what you think, Elizabeth. I do worry about him...I am not as impatient as I was. And I do understand you humans a little more than I did. I trust Carson. He knows that, I just wish he would feel it."
Wavering in the door way that had seen the escapees barely a few minutes ago, Nena wrung her shoulders with an intense expression on her face. Not unused to this look – and having witnessed it on Carson over many months, even though not realising what it meant it at the time – Elizabeth waited, palming her PDA between her hands.
"They are taking liberal amounts of alcohol," Nena said at last, bottom lip disappearing under her teeth.
"...should I ask the exact amount?"
"Perhaps not."
"You don't think they'll take a 'Jumper do you?"
Nena's silence was answer enough. Elizabeth slipped the PDA into her jacket's pocket. After a moment, she said, "Is there anything you can do…?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I thought you said this was the quickest way to the 'Jumper bay," John accused.
Standing astride the ledge set into the side of the hanger, he appeared to be the master of all he surveyed. Except that a distinct lack of steps or otherwise helpful technology presented itself, and the nearest Puddlejumper platform was a long walk through the air away. Carson smiled helplessly, set down the beer just inside the access passage that opened into the hanger and shimmered from his spot on the platform down to the floor three metres below.
Ronon strode up to the edge, sighted the distance with one eye closed and jumped.
After some negotiation, the boxes of alcohol followed, cushioned by the sturdy catch of a hardened warrior. John and Teyla weren't as swift in their descent but neither had any difficulty, which left Rodney McKay. For the record, he was never afraid of heights, it was just the landing thing he had a problem with.
"C'mon, Rodney," John called up. "I'll even get Ronon to catch you if it'll make you feel better."
"That's supposed to make me feel better!"
"I guess you'll just have to trust my judgement."
Rodney scowled.
"If you take any longer," Teyla told him, "I will find a way up there to push you myself. Then I would not be here to persuade Ronon to catch you."
Carson turned his back to hide his laugh, scooping up a box and moving it a few steps to occupy himself. Rodney continued to complain. "Oh right, and do how much damage to my spine in the process? I'm not exactly new to being dropped on my back and no one can know how many hairline fractures I might already have from that."
"Fine! Is this what you want to hear?" John hesitated. "I forgive you, and I trust you Rodney. So now I'm asking you to just trust us for a few seconds."
Rodney fought the deep suspicion that he was going to regret this. He set one foot into midair, pondered the next step, and dropped. Thankfully, he didn't have to spend too long in Ronon's arms.
It took only a a minute for them all to reach a chosen 'Jumper and then significantly less than that to pry open cases of not beer, but assorted bits of junk and rock. The explanation for this serious lack of medicinal supplies was to be blamed, rightly so, on an enterprising soul who had discovered the beer and snatched it away to make a tidy profit. Zelenka would have been very upset had he known about this, for he was not the one who benefited from such a scheme.
This discovery, however, did no real harm to the plans of the five humans. Upon attempting to start the 'Jumper, and deciding that the city was conspiring against them (Carson thought it best not to alert the sentience of Atlantis to his precise location), they soon managed to clamber up onto the highest parked 'Jumper.
Ronon Dex happened to reveal a tanned hip flask from his belt and passed it around, though a few drops had barely passed John's lips before the Colonel started coughing. Rodney declined, and Teyla inhaled a fair bit before leaving the rest for Carson who rather thought that a good deal of money could be made from whatever moonshine Satedans chose to carry.
"What's in that stuff?" demanded John.
Ronon shifted between two ridges on top of the 'Jumper to make himself more comfortable, but did not let them in on that secret. His indifferent gaze was already set on the high ceiling and the roomy tunnel that led further up to the outside. "Is that the way out?"
All stared up at the closed roof door of the hanger.
Carson threw a careless hand upwards and it opened.
Then John asked the not-so-obvious. "Why do you think the Ancients put a sunroof in here?"
"Sunroof?" Rodney repeated disbelievingly. "What are you - oh, right. The roof doors. How do you propose the 'Jumpers leave the city? Beam out?"
"Ancestors should have built a door into the outside walls," Ronon said.
A brief moment's consideration, then Rodney blinked. "Huh. He's right. Why didn't they do that?"
"I'm not sure that would suit the design," Teyla offered. "The Ancestors' architecture shows a preference for symmetry."
John slung his arms behind his head for a pillow and stared for a while. Sudden inspiration spurred his next few words. "Hey, Carson, can't you and Nena change things around a little? Like a door in the side?"
"It's not as simple as tha', John. We can change a few wee details to the structure, but...actually I have no idea, I've never tried."
"What better time than now?" John beamed.
Rodney performed a flourish that mimicked Carson's previous gesture, letting gravity pull his hand back down to a muffled landing on his stomach. He muttered, "You can't just wave your magic wand and create a matter out of nothing."
Carson scrunched up his face.
"Are you able to do it?" Teyla prompted.
The king of Atlantis stretched his neck back to run his eyes over the wall behind them, though his face relaxed. "No, not a thing."
"That's because there are better things to use the ZPM's energy on!" someone exclaimed nearby.
John coughed uncomfortably. "Who said that?"
Appearing to hover in the air beside the Puddlejumper was Nena Beckett, legs crossed and arms resting over her knees. Oh, so sprung. Ronon was the first to react, shuffling over to make room for her on the roof. Nena floated down beside him. Her lips pursed before each corner rose to accommodate a wide smile. "Aren't you sweet! Thank you. They say such things about you, you know. Big, tough, dangerous, slightly spunky."
"I'm starting to see why Beckett likes chairs," Ronon said, scanning her form with languid appreciation.
Two finely programmed eyebrows lifted. Nena's smile grew impish.
"Excuse me, love?" Carson said indignantly. "If yer having any second thoughts about jus' which man ye prefer…"
"Breathe, my husband. I'm not mad at you. A little hurt, maybe. But we are going to talk, right now."
An excuse failed to materalise. Carson sat up and reached over to rest his hand over Nena's, slipping his fingers through hers. He kept his hand still, though his heart shivered inside his chest. She always made him feel anxious, though sometimes not in a bad way. God, they'd been married twice in a fashion, had a child together - yet he wasn't sure how to tell her his deepest fears.
Nena lifted his hand with hers, kissing the heel of his palm. Her eyes never left his. She deserved to know.
"I don't think any of ye will miss me if I suddenly disappear," Carson said, looking around at his friends.
Various forms of farewell were delivered, then the walls dissolved into fluttering fragments that rearranged into Carson's quarters. Startled to find their location not in virtu-Atlantis, and even relieved, Carson dropped to his bed and pulled Nena into his lap. She settled around to lean her head against his shoulder.
"Before ye say anything," Carson began quickly, "I need to tell ye I'm so sorry, my dear. I shouldnae have left ye, but it was also not my intention to be abducted by our daughter. She is learning, oh, a little fast for my liking."
Nena showed no surprise about the Meredith situation. Keeping silent, she waited.
"Alrigh' love, I'll get to the point…am I…am I human?"
She frowned against his neck. "But you know the answer to that."
"Do I, love? I know that a Wraith cannae feed on me, but a Replicator can invade my body. Will I die? Can I die?"
Nena leaned back and her mouth bunched to one side as she thought. Nodding, she leaped out of his grasp and hunted through the room. Finding the pocket knife that John Sheppard had given her husband as an impromptu gift of protection, she tugged Carson's hand out and drew a tiny slice of blood across the tip of his index finger.
"See! Blood." She kissed the cut for a moment. "You're not one-hundred-percent invincible and neither am I. You just hurt in a different way. And you have this DNA to materialise, too, don't forget that."
"And if I die…?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know. Please don't try that, Carson. It would make everyone all very miserable."
The twinkle in her eye drew out his smile. "Oh? Ye especially?"
"I could be persuaded…"
Nena leaned over to kiss him, but before their lips could meet, virtu-Atlantis swirled around them. Both turned to regard Meredith in her cot, her blue eyes big and bright.
"Ye left her here alone?"
"No...perhaps she was bored in the care of Evan."
Carson groaned. "We really have ta sort her out."
"Let her play. She'll never learn to change things in the city if she never tries."
"Oh God, don't let Elizabeth know…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later, a wad of paper skimmed across Doctor Weir's desk and stopped just short of slipping onto the floor. Elizabeth glanced up at John questioningly.
"You won't be having any problem putting us back on active duty," he said. "This is the final draft of my report on the last mission."
"What's brought this on?"
"Rodney wasn't the only one who made a mistake. He didn't stay behind; he trusted me enough to leave, and that's good enough for me. Buuut...don't tell him I said that."
Once he'd left, Elizabeth spun her chair around and let her eyes roam into the glare bouncing off the water she could see through the windows of the gate room below. Like a breath she'd held for too long, the stress left her chest.
The next breath she took held the scent of the ocean.
Never in her life had four carbon based lifeforms caused her so much grief. Her free hand rested over a pile of paper, which was excessive enough to cause pain to any tree. Between her fingers were lines of text she'd rather not see again. Two reports Elizabeth counted on the outpost incident from John and Rodney, but there was something unspoken between the two members of the team not from Earth.
Two weeks ago, the Pegasus Galaxy had lost the better part of a solar system and a rift had opened up between all of them, strangely. Two weeks ago, Elizabeth had attempted to discern anything in long arguments with each member of Atlantis' foremost team about the past fortnight.
Now, she watched as Rodney deliberately seated himself at the end of the table, successfully putting Ronon between him and Colonel Sheppard. Teyla seemed happy enough standing up, one hand clasped over the elbow of her other arm.
"There are two things that concern me at the moment," Elizabeth began slowly. "Let's begin with the easiest, as I'm sure we'll need some more time with my second point. First of all, has anyone seen Carson in the past week or so?"
Rodney's head lifted somewhat and he frowned. "Oh clearly, I have nothing better to occupy myself with than to stalk Carson. What else could I possibly be doing?"
"I only ask because Nena has relayed her concern to me," Dr Weir pressed.
John leaned forward in his chair, musing, "Come to think of it, I haven't exactly seen our good king anywhere. I was checking out the infirmary a couple of days ago and I had to speak to Dr Biro instead."
"How did you escape Biro?" Ronon questioned.
"I was polite. Biro will leave you alone if you actually say goodbye before walking off."
"Ronon has been experiencing some difficulty with polite conversation," Teyla murmured, but not quietly enough to disguise a hard edge in her voice.
"He's not the only one – at least he doesn't shut a transporter door in my face!" Rodney added, glaring around the Satedan at John.
Elizabeth set down her mug with a bang. "Enough!"
Silence reigned. Somewhere in the corridor outside, a lone soul sneezed loudly. Further beyond that, barely discernible to anyone in the briefing room, was the heated exchange between Chuck and Peter about who exactly was supposed to be on gate duty that morning. And further still out of their range, completely out of human perception, Nena busily hunted through codes and algorithms for her mysteriously absent husband.
But none of this mattered right then.
"I shouldn't have to listen to this." Elizabeth's voice sliced through the woolly atmosphere of the room. "How can I be expected to have any confidence in your team at this point in time? This brings me to the other reason I called you here. I do not have the full picture, but it is clear to me that recent events may have...tested how you perceive each other for the moment. I fail to see how this has continued for so long. While it may seem to you that I have more important things to deal with, this is probably the one that causes me the most stress."
"It was not our intention," Teyla informed her.
"I am aware of that, but it doesn't solve this particular problem."
"There's nothing to solve," Ronon growled.
Sensing another outpouring of complaints and verbal jabs, Elizabeth stood up and held out a sheet of paper. Once their eyes had been drawn to it, she explained, "On this you will find a set of trust exercises. You have until sundown to complete them. This should not be too difficult but if it is, don't expect me to let you back into the field until you give me a good enough reason to."
Dr Elizabeth Weir nodded briskly to each of them and left at a dignified pace, chin high and hands pressed against each other in front of her. The moment the revolving doors shut behind her, she acknowledged the entity beside her. "You're sure they can't get out of the room?"
A slow, devious grin formed on Nena's face. "They can try…"
"Have you heard anything from Carson?" Elizabeth asked as both women continued towards the control room.
"This is not the first time my love has run away from me. He seems to think I have a bad temper, but I do not know why he holds this belief."
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and smiled wryly at her companion. "From what he told me about your courtship, I can't fault Carson for that."
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," chortled the entity of Atlantis. "I just...wish he would talk to me. Humans can be so frustrating! And so thoughtless! It is hard enough to find babysitters among those in your expedition, without having to ask them to do it for so long!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carson Beckett had stopped hiding. Now he was trapped.
Since there were very few blind spots in the systems of Atlantis, he'd had to choose less than pleasing conditions to base himself in. At first, a lower section of the city that was prone to flooding had been his home – until he'd woken up one morning with his feet in a puddle of water and a sniffle creeping down his nostrils.
He loved Nena, he really did. But if the lass expected him to sit down easily to have this talk, then he was going to do the only thing he could.
Run. Hide. Repeat. A common mantra for any male who found themselves in the precarious position of offending a chair.
Finally, the damp and misery became a little too much. Tempted into the systems by the thought of decent bed rest and a good stiff drink, perhaps a make-up kiss (or more) with his wife, Carson had set out into the main corridors…
This had, naturally, been a mistake of extremely epic proportions.
He'd been abducted.
By his own daughter.
Entombed in a set of green and blue letters, fighting against the constricting laws of Lantean technology that randomly decided to change every few seconds, it had nearly driven Carson mad. It then took an extra forty-eight hours for him to realise that the reason none of it made any sense was because a wee bairn of no more than a few months months old had constructed his prison.
Meredith, I'm not going to pretend I understand any of this, he probed gently, but can ye at least tell yer mum where I am?
Of course she might not yet have a grasp of the English language, but the sensation that bounced back at him could only be described as an electronic raspberry. Good Lord, his own abilities had been hacked by a mere baby! His own daughter!
Won't Uncle Rodney be pleased that yer just as clever and annoying as yer namesake?
A light query touched his senses, shyly weaving warmth through his very being. Carson started at feeling the connection opening between them and then embraced it. Forgetting for a moment that he wasn't going anywhere fast, he flushed his love back through the link to Meredith, willing it to surround her with light and energetic scrambles of programming.
I love ye. Always know that yer da loves ye.
Da, Meredith repeated back at him. Da.
Now then I don't suppose ye have a mind to letting me go?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.
A bear-shaped shadow eclipsed Rodney, set to the soundtrack of a low rumble in Ronon's throat. The scientist rolled his eyes and slipped off his watch. Holding it up and making a show of it, Rodney then tucked it into his pocket. Ronon slanted back the other way. Meanwhile, Teyla had finally taken the chair beside John and was doing her best to remain quiet and composed, though her eyes narrowed with each glance at the men of her team.
Nodding at her briefly, Sheppard coughed and reached for the paper. It skipped past his fingertips and headed down towards Ronon. John leaned over just as the Satenda blew out a breath. A brief flutter heralded yet a little more distance down the table. Sheppard lunged from hsi seat and tackled the wayward piece of paper. Rodney snorted. John held up a hand at him for silence and slid back into his chair.
Pressing his lips together for a few seconds, John then announced, "The first exercise is called Mine Field."
"Does it say what the blast radius of the mines has to be?" Ronon asked, eyes flicking around the confines of the room, clearly wondering if the room was big enough for such a game.
"Comforting," Rodney muttered.
Casting an exasperated grimace away with a small shake of her head, Teyla took the paper from John and read it herself. "It does not appear that any mines are used. This exercise requires items to be placed on the floor and for a blindfolded person to be directed through by a partner's instructions."
"Sheppard, permission to get some mines from the armoury?"
"Denied, but be prepared for that order," John told him, and quickly smirked with the sudden forethought that Ronon might take him seriously. Not that John hadn't thought of it. Nooo. "Teyla, Rodney, any ideas?"
"Colonel, remove your shoes."
Okay, that seemed simple enough. And it even made a little sense – what else were they supposed to use? John also had the sneaking suspicion that the door wouldn't open if he asked it to, though he didn't blame Elizabeth for that. It probably helped to be in cahoots with the queen of Atlantis.
Swiveling sideways in his chair, the Colonel threw his feet up in the air and his shoes sailed across the table before smacking into the wall. This settled, he gestured towards his other team mates, then added, "Alright, if this is a trust exercise you're going to have to get used to calling me John. All of you. But don't catch me hearing it in the field."
"Very well…John," Teyla acknowledged and carefully unlaced her sneakers.
"Are you seriously considering playing along with this?" Rodney crossed his arms and didn't budge. He might have swung his feet for good measure, but such an action would be childish and he most certainly wasn't going to stoop to...okay, so he did swing. But only once and it was entirely justified. "You realise these time-wasting exercises were created by people who only managed to scrape into an arts degree and are designed to make people doubt each other?"
To Ronon, it was pretty simple. "We are following Dr Weir's orders."
"And believe me, Elizabeth can set her mind to things," John said feelingly. "I say we play along. For now."
"Agreed," said Teyla.
"What? You need my permission to make yourselves look stupid?"
Ronon planted a foot on the seat of Rodney's chair, giving the scientist only a second's notice to move his legs apart. Spluttering indignantly, the scientist didn't manage to form a retort before the Sateda shoved his chair away from the table. Ronon took each of Rodney's feet in a shovel-sized hand before ripping the footwear off.
Soon enough, eight shoes littered a patch of the floor. Taking in the sour pinch twisting Rodney's face, John thought that he'd rather dance through a real mine field than force his team mate to go along with it. But the scientist deserved a little talking down after the exploding solar system incident, trust or not.
"Who wants to go first?" John asked brightly. "I vote Rodney with Ronon."
"I thought the objective was to partner with someone I do not wish to hit the mines."
"You – tell me you heard that!" Rodney exclaimed at John.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Radek Zalenka was very pleased. He had been ever since he'd received word that Rodney would be held up somewhere for the day. An entire day! This meant he was free to do whatever he wished, so the first order of business was to break Rodney's carefully instated Cone of Silence in their department.
And now he finally had the right ambience with which to multitask, a sacred art that the men in his family had the good grace to inherit, given the correct ingredients. His young nephew could not only wreak destruction on every piece of furniture not nailed down, but also recite Hussite Era poetry and still have enough brain power to grin evilly. All that was required was a babysitter with minimal patience for his sister's son and the multitasking would begin.
Zelenka did not like to remember such incidents. He abandoned that turn of thought and focused on equations involving wormhole theory and programming for his self-styled chess game on the computer. Occasionally he scribbled a few notes on how best to regain his previous position as Atlantis' black market expert, basking in the background murmuring of unharried scientists.
Then his computer screen blipped.
He blinked slowly and prayed.
It blipped again. His carefully resolved coding exploded into nothingness, replaced by one word.
HELP
"Carson?" Radek ventured.
Need help. Subroutine blocking...can't get…
Nose touching the screen, Radek squinted over the rim of his glasses. He mouthed through his programming. Ah, so he had mistakenly stumbled somewhere in the Ancient database that even Rodney did not dare to flex his intellect. The screen wavered and flickered.
Zelenka threw aside his mouse, perched the keyboard on his lap and set to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a show of good faith, possibly brought on by the reproving stare of Teyla, John had decided that it was his duty as CO to take the plunge. What he hadn't counted on was Rodney gleefully rising to the occasion and, having been passed a blindfold from Ronon (no one was very sure they wanted to ask where the Satedan had procured such a thing), the scientist wrapped it around John's eyes. So far, so good...except it took some arguing before each step could be taken around the shoes forming their danger zone.
"Rodney, it's not that I don't trust you...it's that I don't exactly trust your judgement," Colonel Sheppard shot from one corner of his mouth.
"Great, so why are you bothering to listen to me? What would you propose for getting through a mine field – oh right using the Force. Why didn't we think of that before?"
"Should have let them use real mines," Ronon said aside to Teyla.
She didn't exactly voice a disagreement.
John blew out a loud breath. "I can still hear what you're all saying, you know. Rodney, look, I can forgive you for blowing up a solar system. What I can't forgive is you always assuming you're right and then not trusting my judgement enough when it concerns your own damn safety."
"I said I was sorry," Rodney grumbled. "Two steps right to leave the mine field, or you're free to go right on not trusting my mostly reliable judgement, if it does anything for your Kirk-sized ego."
Trying not to envision scrubbing any smug look off his team mate's face with the floor, John began his last two steps to freedom. One step...deep breath...and then he smacked bodily into something blocking his path.
"Uh, hullo everyone. I don't suppose any of ye are willing to give me some clothes?"
John skidded back in shock and his feet caught on a 'mine'. Flung over onto his back, he pulled hard at the blindfold until it slipped over his hair, mussing it in a way that wasn't entirely disagreeable. Standing over him, holding out a hand and completely starkers was Carson Beckett, king of Atlantis.
"Did I miss something?" Sheppard said flatly.
"Naked," was Rodney's projection.
Carson gripped John's wrist and helped the Colonel to his feet. John kept a good distance away following this, though he did grin openly at the CMO's predicament. Teyla's hands ghosted over John's shoulders, tugging off his jacket and offering it to the new arrival. Nodding in thanks to her as he wrapped it around his waist, Carson said, "I think I'm the one who's missing something, donnae ye think?"
"Carson, you're...naked."
"Well yes, I realise this, Rodney," the doctor responded patiently. "My wee lass wasnae exactly in a good mood."
John chuckled. "Nena finally found you, huh?"
"No, it was Meredith. She trapped me."
"What'd she do that for?" Ronon asked, striding over to pick up his boots.
"I think because I abandoned Nena and so Meredith was tryin' ta teach me a lesson."
"I'd say she's not wrong there, doc," John pointed out. "Nena told me about the times you used to run from her. You're lucky she didn't freeze up the city like last time."
Rodney nodded quickly, finally able to stop staring at his friend. "Right yes, frozen city bad - that's not going to happen again is it? I fell through the ice once and it's not an experience I care to - "
"Occupational hazard of dating a chair, I'm afraid," Carson said, then indicated the mess on the floor. "What nonsense are ye getting up to?"
Bending down to scoop up her own shoes, Teyla set a strained smile on her face. Once her feet were again clad, she explained, "Elizabeth wished us to partake in trust exercises."
"Good Lord, did it really get this bad?"
"We...we were working on it," John said defensively. "Weren't we, Rodney?"
Ronon looked between John and the scientist, then shrugged. "There are worse things than destroying a solar system."
"Oh I'm sure you can think of some!" Rodney snapped.
Ignoring the rest of the diatribe forming between the other men, Carson turned to the Athosian and rested his hand on her arm, leading her towards the table. He asked guardedly, "Teyla, love, have they been like this all day?"
"Unfortunately yes..."
"Well ye know what we need ta do then?"
"Get Rodney smashed!" shouted John.
"Smashing McKay, when do we start?" Ronon wanted to know.
Rodney snorted. "Oh ha-hah. Wait...did you mean that as a joke or are you just mocking me? He's mocking me!"
Pressing the side of her hand against her face, Teyla closed her eyes briefly. After the lines crossing her forehead faded, she said, "I believe I should excuse myself. There are things I must attend to on the mainland and I...have no wish to lose my senses to drink. It does the worst to good men."
"I'm not going to kill anyone, unless they try to kill me first," Ronon assured her.
"I am glad to hear that."
"You still mad?"
"Considerably less so. The trust...may take longer."
Ronon reached back to scratch at his scalp, unconcerned. "I can live with that."
"You need someone to fly you over, Teyla," John supplied.
"I suspected you would make such a suggestion."
"And…?"
"Very well, John. You may lead."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No one batted an eyelid when five people exited the briefing room instead of four. The lunch break on Atlantis was a sacred hour, so it was down to very few to notice how the escapees (one wearing barely a stitch of clothing) skirted the corridors, forging an unhurried path towards the 'Jumper bay. One pitstop was allowed on the way – just long enough for Carson Beckett to reveal his latest stash of beer in plain brown boxes – and a spare set of clothes.
"For medicinal purposes only, yes?" the doctor said, eyes wide and innocent.
"I'm surprised Nena hasn't done away with this," John reflected. "We all know what happened last time."
Carson's cheeks tightened, but no dimples appeared. "Oh God, Nena. She must know I'm here. What do I tell her?"
Ronon loomed in the door way, waving them out into the corridor. His advice was, "Depends which will hurt more – telling the truth right now or staying off the radar a little longer."
"I would not suggest that you come with us," Teyla said.
This sounded perfectly logical to Carson's ear, but by the time it reached his brain the translation had been lost somewhat. His solution was to simply escort them to the 'Jumper. Then leave. Aye, that would do it.
"Dr Weir is twenty metres that way," Ronon informed them, pointing back over his shoulder.
"Shit," John muttered. "Leg it!"
Just as he started forward, his footfall landed hard on the untied laces of Rodney's shoes. The scientist pitched forward and only just managed to throw his hands out in front of him. Grabbing the back of Rodney's shirt, Sheppard hauled his team mate halfway up and almost dragged him down the floor. The soles of Rodney's sneakers squealed like a banshee stepping on a cat.
"Hopeless, aren't this lot?" Carson sighed and exchanged an anxious look with Teyla. Without much encouragement, they jogged after the other miscreants, both trying to balance gravity with boxes that felt as heavy as stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite the inability for anyone else to find the spectacle worth noting, it failed to be ignored by the city's expedition leader. Elizabeth opened her mouth and watched them leave, holding out an empty hand, palm up, ready to gesture them back towards her. She closed her fingers into a fist and rapped it against her PDA absently before asking herself out loud, "Should I be worried?"
A cascade of light and white noise burst into being beside her. Nena's green eyes were flaming with sharpening pixels that were the last part of her to complete in the transfer. The entity of Atlantis immediately surged forward and Elizabeth hurried to keep pace with her. Clearly, there was more than a simple greeting on Nena's mind.
"My husband has some explaining to do," Nena said.
Elizabeth snagged her elbow with a well chosen grip, glad that Nena had become corporeal for the encounter. "No wait...they're up to something."
"But Carson – "
"Nena, while I don't approve of the way my CMO has treated you the past week," Weir began gently, "this is exactly the sort of improvement I was hoping for."
"I do not intend to yell at him, if that's what you think, Elizabeth. I do worry about him...I am not as impatient as I was. And I do understand you humans a little more than I did. I trust Carson. He knows that, I just wish he would feel it."
Wavering in the door way that had seen the escapees barely a few minutes ago, Nena wrung her shoulders with an intense expression on her face. Not unused to this look – and having witnessed it on Carson over many months, even though not realising what it meant it at the time – Elizabeth waited, palming her PDA between her hands.
"They are taking liberal amounts of alcohol," Nena said at last, bottom lip disappearing under her teeth.
"...should I ask the exact amount?"
"Perhaps not."
"You don't think they'll take a 'Jumper do you?"
Nena's silence was answer enough. Elizabeth slipped the PDA into her jacket's pocket. After a moment, she said, "Is there anything you can do…?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I thought you said this was the quickest way to the 'Jumper bay," John accused.
Standing astride the ledge set into the side of the hanger, he appeared to be the master of all he surveyed. Except that a distinct lack of steps or otherwise helpful technology presented itself, and the nearest Puddlejumper platform was a long walk through the air away. Carson smiled helplessly, set down the beer just inside the access passage that opened into the hanger and shimmered from his spot on the platform down to the floor three metres below.
Ronon strode up to the edge, sighted the distance with one eye closed and jumped.
After some negotiation, the boxes of alcohol followed, cushioned by the sturdy catch of a hardened warrior. John and Teyla weren't as swift in their descent but neither had any difficulty, which left Rodney McKay. For the record, he was never afraid of heights, it was just the landing thing he had a problem with.
"C'mon, Rodney," John called up. "I'll even get Ronon to catch you if it'll make you feel better."
"That's supposed to make me feel better!"
"I guess you'll just have to trust my judgement."
Rodney scowled.
"If you take any longer," Teyla told him, "I will find a way up there to push you myself. Then I would not be here to persuade Ronon to catch you."
Carson turned his back to hide his laugh, scooping up a box and moving it a few steps to occupy himself. Rodney continued to complain. "Oh right, and do how much damage to my spine in the process? I'm not exactly new to being dropped on my back and no one can know how many hairline fractures I might already have from that."
"Fine! Is this what you want to hear?" John hesitated. "I forgive you, and I trust you Rodney. So now I'm asking you to just trust us for a few seconds."
Rodney fought the deep suspicion that he was going to regret this. He set one foot into midair, pondered the next step, and dropped. Thankfully, he didn't have to spend too long in Ronon's arms.
It took only a a minute for them all to reach a chosen 'Jumper and then significantly less than that to pry open cases of not beer, but assorted bits of junk and rock. The explanation for this serious lack of medicinal supplies was to be blamed, rightly so, on an enterprising soul who had discovered the beer and snatched it away to make a tidy profit. Zelenka would have been very upset had he known about this, for he was not the one who benefited from such a scheme.
This discovery, however, did no real harm to the plans of the five humans. Upon attempting to start the 'Jumper, and deciding that the city was conspiring against them (Carson thought it best not to alert the sentience of Atlantis to his precise location), they soon managed to clamber up onto the highest parked 'Jumper.
Ronon Dex happened to reveal a tanned hip flask from his belt and passed it around, though a few drops had barely passed John's lips before the Colonel started coughing. Rodney declined, and Teyla inhaled a fair bit before leaving the rest for Carson who rather thought that a good deal of money could be made from whatever moonshine Satedans chose to carry.
"What's in that stuff?" demanded John.
Ronon shifted between two ridges on top of the 'Jumper to make himself more comfortable, but did not let them in on that secret. His indifferent gaze was already set on the high ceiling and the roomy tunnel that led further up to the outside. "Is that the way out?"
All stared up at the closed roof door of the hanger.
Carson threw a careless hand upwards and it opened.
Then John asked the not-so-obvious. "Why do you think the Ancients put a sunroof in here?"
"Sunroof?" Rodney repeated disbelievingly. "What are you - oh, right. The roof doors. How do you propose the 'Jumpers leave the city? Beam out?"
"Ancestors should have built a door into the outside walls," Ronon said.
A brief moment's consideration, then Rodney blinked. "Huh. He's right. Why didn't they do that?"
"I'm not sure that would suit the design," Teyla offered. "The Ancestors' architecture shows a preference for symmetry."
John slung his arms behind his head for a pillow and stared for a while. Sudden inspiration spurred his next few words. "Hey, Carson, can't you and Nena change things around a little? Like a door in the side?"
"It's not as simple as tha', John. We can change a few wee details to the structure, but...actually I have no idea, I've never tried."
"What better time than now?" John beamed.
Rodney performed a flourish that mimicked Carson's previous gesture, letting gravity pull his hand back down to a muffled landing on his stomach. He muttered, "You can't just wave your magic wand and create a matter out of nothing."
Carson scrunched up his face.
"Are you able to do it?" Teyla prompted.
The king of Atlantis stretched his neck back to run his eyes over the wall behind them, though his face relaxed. "No, not a thing."
"That's because there are better things to use the ZPM's energy on!" someone exclaimed nearby.
John coughed uncomfortably. "Who said that?"
Appearing to hover in the air beside the Puddlejumper was Nena Beckett, legs crossed and arms resting over her knees. Oh, so sprung. Ronon was the first to react, shuffling over to make room for her on the roof. Nena floated down beside him. Her lips pursed before each corner rose to accommodate a wide smile. "Aren't you sweet! Thank you. They say such things about you, you know. Big, tough, dangerous, slightly spunky."
"I'm starting to see why Beckett likes chairs," Ronon said, scanning her form with languid appreciation.
Two finely programmed eyebrows lifted. Nena's smile grew impish.
"Excuse me, love?" Carson said indignantly. "If yer having any second thoughts about jus' which man ye prefer…"
"Breathe, my husband. I'm not mad at you. A little hurt, maybe. But we are going to talk, right now."
An excuse failed to materalise. Carson sat up and reached over to rest his hand over Nena's, slipping his fingers through hers. He kept his hand still, though his heart shivered inside his chest. She always made him feel anxious, though sometimes not in a bad way. God, they'd been married twice in a fashion, had a child together - yet he wasn't sure how to tell her his deepest fears.
Nena lifted his hand with hers, kissing the heel of his palm. Her eyes never left his. She deserved to know.
"I don't think any of ye will miss me if I suddenly disappear," Carson said, looking around at his friends.
Various forms of farewell were delivered, then the walls dissolved into fluttering fragments that rearranged into Carson's quarters. Startled to find their location not in virtu-Atlantis, and even relieved, Carson dropped to his bed and pulled Nena into his lap. She settled around to lean her head against his shoulder.
"Before ye say anything," Carson began quickly, "I need to tell ye I'm so sorry, my dear. I shouldnae have left ye, but it was also not my intention to be abducted by our daughter. She is learning, oh, a little fast for my liking."
Nena showed no surprise about the Meredith situation. Keeping silent, she waited.
"Alrigh' love, I'll get to the point…am I…am I human?"
She frowned against his neck. "But you know the answer to that."
"Do I, love? I know that a Wraith cannae feed on me, but a Replicator can invade my body. Will I die? Can I die?"
Nena leaned back and her mouth bunched to one side as she thought. Nodding, she leaped out of his grasp and hunted through the room. Finding the pocket knife that John Sheppard had given her husband as an impromptu gift of protection, she tugged Carson's hand out and drew a tiny slice of blood across the tip of his index finger.
"See! Blood." She kissed the cut for a moment. "You're not one-hundred-percent invincible and neither am I. You just hurt in a different way. And you have this DNA to materialise, too, don't forget that."
"And if I die…?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know. Please don't try that, Carson. It would make everyone all very miserable."
The twinkle in her eye drew out his smile. "Oh? Ye especially?"
"I could be persuaded…"
Nena leaned over to kiss him, but before their lips could meet, virtu-Atlantis swirled around them. Both turned to regard Meredith in her cot, her blue eyes big and bright.
"Ye left her here alone?"
"No...perhaps she was bored in the care of Evan."
Carson groaned. "We really have ta sort her out."
"Let her play. She'll never learn to change things in the city if she never tries."
"Oh God, don't let Elizabeth know…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later, a wad of paper skimmed across Doctor Weir's desk and stopped just short of slipping onto the floor. Elizabeth glanced up at John questioningly.
"You won't be having any problem putting us back on active duty," he said. "This is the final draft of my report on the last mission."
"What's brought this on?"
"Rodney wasn't the only one who made a mistake. He didn't stay behind; he trusted me enough to leave, and that's good enough for me. Buuut...don't tell him I said that."
Once he'd left, Elizabeth spun her chair around and let her eyes roam into the glare bouncing off the water she could see through the windows of the gate room below. Like a breath she'd held for too long, the stress left her chest.
The next breath she took held the scent of the ocean.