Rodney McKay stared at the memo in dismay. He crumpled it in his fist and threw it away in frustration. His request hadn’t been anything drastic. He wasn’t asking to go on a dangerous mission and he wasn’t asking for permission to experiment on something extremely combustible.
The piece of paper landed right on some reports on Zelenka’s desk.
The Czech picked it up slowly and said dangerously, “My desk is not waste bin.”
“Who knows what’s under that pile of rubbish,” Rodney said brusquely.
He stormed out, not giving Zelenka a chance to retaliate to the insult.
The technician on duty knew at once that there was trouble as Rodney stormed past towards Dr Weir’s office. It was not rare to see the physicist cranky, but this time there was a murderous gleam in his eyes.
He barged in and demanded, “Why has my request for extra lab equipment been denied?”
“Lab equipment?” Elizabeth repeated incredulously.
Rodney did not like his requirements to be questioned, particularly this one. He took a moment to settle into a casual stance he’d seen Colonel Sheppard use and affirmed, “Yes. I need the equipment for an experiment. I doubt you want the city coming down around our ears.”
Weir raised her eyebrows, amazement painting her features. She glanced down at the request he’d filed and shook her head in astonishment. She commented carefully, not sure whether to be serious or not, “I never knew extra fluffy pillows were imperative to science.”
“They are, they are,” McKay said dismissively. “The lab furniture is uncomfortable. It is nearly impossible to get a decent nap at night without pillows.”
Elizabeth suggested, smiling to herself, “You could always go to bed.”
“And miss out on making a breakthrough that I’d forget by morning?” Rodney solicited disbelievingly.
“What does Katie think about this?”
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” he groused tetchily. “We’re not going out anymore.”
Elizabeth decided this had gone far enough and said firmly, “If you are missing much needed sleep, then yes, you will wait to make your breakthrough in the morning. Your working performance would be affected by this arrangement. I have ordered Dr Beckett not to give you any stimulants.”
“I work fine on little sleep.”
“You aren’t a pleasant person with little sleep,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And sleep deprived humans make mistakes. I will not take that risk, if you say it could bring the city down around our ears.”
Not wanting to concede, Rodney settled for a dignified retreat. He muttered under his breath, "If that’s how you want to play it, fine.”
Elizabeth Weir wondered why she hadn’t thought of putting pillows in her own office. It would certainly make those long nights more comfortable. She briefly amused herself with thoughts of different pillows that she’s like.
The ones she’d had in the house she’d shared with Simon had been a grey blue colour. They had been round and squishy, just right to snuggle into. Wondering where the memory had come from, Elizabeth glanced towards her door – the one that Rodney strode out of scant minutes ago.
It occurred to her that he had been wearing that blue grey shirt of his.
“Couldn’t think of something less like a pillow,” she said to herself loudly.
Weir found herself looking at the door again. Shaking her head at her own idiocy, she tossed aside Rodney’s request and dived into her work.
“It’s just pillows,” Zelenka reminded Rodney impatiently. “Dr Weir has her reasons.”
McKay was pacing the lab, tossing ideas of getting the much needed pillows across the room at Radek, who would rather be doing something useful. The Czech had been writing a report and had so far accidentally written the word “pillow” five times. Rodney rounded on him,
“Well? Have you got any ideas?”
Zelenka pushed his glasses up and his nose and remarked derisively, “Apart from you stealing Dr Weir’s own pillows, no.”
Rodney’s expression went from frantically puzzled to glowing and devious. He began hunting for something through the lab. More than a little worried by this transformation, Zelenka asked apprehensively, “What are you doing?”
“Looking for my quietest shoes,” McKay declared.
The Czech dropped his head and his hands and muttered, “Jezis.”
Rodney McKay felt very smug. He had become a super spy. Wearing black and the standard military jacket he’d pinched off Sheppard, he snuck along the corridor to Weir’s apartment. He felt he was making considerable progress. When he was almost there, a mass of hair came around the corner, revealing Ronon Dex who stepped into Rodney’s path. McKay halted and tried to look inconspicuous.
Ronan said in a stern tone, “Your attempt at stealth is pathetic. I could hear you some distance away.”
“Sshh!” Rodney hissed. “I’m trying to be undetectable.”
Ronon’s eyes travelled to the scientist’s feet. He pointed out bluntly, “A deaf Wraith could hear the squeaks of those shoes.”
McKay could have sworn that Ronon was hiding a smile. Miffed at being discovered, Rodney side-stepped this obstruction and continued down the corridor. At once, he became aware of the painfully obvious sounds slipping out of his shoes. He glanced back at Ronan who merely smirked before disappearing down the corridor.
Rodney reached Elizabeth’s door and began to work at the lock. It took only a few minutes before he was inside. He quickly found the bedroom and the neatly stacked pillows.
“More than enough for her,” he muttered grumpily.
He gathered the pillows up and left the apartment, locking it on the way out.
Zelenka was dismayed to see McKay return with a stack of pillows. Rodney laid them out on the floor and sat on them, expelling a sigh of relief. He held up a hand to forestall comment, declaring, “Just taking a moment to enjoy them.”
“Dr Weir is going to find out,” Zelenka stated flatly. “I have no part in this.”
Rodney ignored him and stood up, gazing happily at his stash of pillows.
Elizabeth Weir walked into her apartment and didn’t bother turning on the lights. It was late and she’d had a very long and trying day. She kicked off her shoes, taking an accustomed and safe route to her bed. She sank onto the end of it and flopped backwards.
The first thing she noticed was the lack of pillows to catch her. Elizabeth lay still for a moment, frowning. She then fumbled around in the dark for a few moments, but gave up unsuccessfully. She again lay there, perplexed.
Then it came to her.
“Rodney!” she growled.
Dr Weir liked to think of herself as patient and flexible. She tolerated everyone on Atlantis – to differing degrees, true – and tried to be the embodiment of a good leader. She took a few deep breaths whenever something bothered her but this time the technique failed her.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled around for her shoes. The darkness made it hard to find where she’d kicked them off and this further worsened her mood. When she’d found them, Elizabeth briskly left her apartment, formulating a dignified but stern retrieval of her precious pillows.
There was a knock at the door.
Zelenka commented dryly, “You should hide them.”
Rodney hurriedly stuffed them behind his desk. In his haste, he knocked over a small Ancient device that seemed to have no purpose. Waving off some curse words offered in Czech, McKay finished his cleaning up and seated himself behind his desk.
“It is her you know,” Zelenka told him, looking pleased. “She gave you time to hide them.”
The door slid open and it was indeed Dr Weir who entered. She looked indifferent and enquired how things were. Rodney didn’t even glance at her. It seemed like a usual round because within a few moments she turned to go. But she paused and turned back to Zelenka, “You should get some sleep.”
She left the room. The Czech chuckled to himself. He wasn’t stupid – he could see a revenge scheme in the making.
“Good night,” Zelenka said with a smile as he left.
Rodney barely looked up – he was already immersed in his work.
At three in the morning, any decent person would be sleeping. Not Elizabeth Weir. She carefully peered through the door that Zelenka had purposefully left open for her. Sleeping like a content baby was Rodney, bent over his desk with his head pressed onto one of her pillows.
He had another one under his arm while his other arm was outstretched, mere inches from a third pillow. Elizabeth stared at him and shook her head. She started with the pillows he didn’t have in a tight grip. She removed them quickly and decisively, while planning her next move.
Next she retrieved Rodney’s discarded jacket. She gently lifted up his head and replaced the pillow with his jacket. He snorted suddenly. Elizabeth froze for a moment in anticipation of his waking up. It looked like she was going to be caught in the act.
Gently, she brushed her hand through his hair. The scientist mumbled something and buried his face into his jacket. Weir let out a sigh of relief and then carefully extracted the pillow that was under his arm.
When all her pillows were back in her possession, she paused at the door and silently congratulated herself on revenge well done. It suddenly occurred to her as she watched McKay sleeping that it wouldn’t be quite the come back if she didn’t steal his own pillows.
Elizabeth dug in her pocket for her radio and keyed up the technician on duty.“Weir here. Unlock Dr McKay’s quarters. It’s not an invasion of privacy. It’s revenge.”
Who knew technicians could be so understanding?
Rodney woke with a sore back. He was irritated and sat up, rubbing the sore spot. He glanced at his watch, seeing the time as an hour before dawn. He stretched and complimented himself on his perfect plan for stealing pillows. He felt ready to continue with his experiment.
He glanced down at his desk and frowned. Where the most comfortable pillow had been there was just his jacket. He panicked and looked around. There was not a pillow in sight.
Realising he’d been duped, Rodney made sure there was no one around before he crept out to get some pillows from his apartment. He wanted to maintain some of his dignity when Zelenka arrived.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
McKay entered his apartment and made a bee line for his pillows. His face went from gleeful to shocked to angry in the space of two seconds as he saw that they were missing. There was a note on his bed, creased from being crumbled up. It was a regrettably familiar piece of paper that Dr Weir had rescued from the bin and painstakingly unfolded.
Rodney scowled into his breakfast, checking his watch every few seconds while he waited for the right time to demand the return of his pillows. The mess was mostly empty at that early time of the morning, but he was soon joined. Ignoring the arrival completely, the scientist was darkly trying to formulate a game plan.
“Good morning, storm cloud,” John Sheppard said cheerfully.
Rodney grunted and continued shovelling food into his mouth. He was in no mood for pleasantries or any possible humiliation. The Colonel raised his eyebrows, looking a little amused by the performance. He asked casually, “Did you suck on a lemon or something?”
Rising to the bait, McKay snapped, “Don’t be so asinine. I can tell the difference between apples and lemons.”
“Apples and oranges,” John corrected brazenly.
Rodney’s scowl deepened and he stabbed his cereal so hard with his spoon that it splattered across the table. A smirk crossed Sheppard’s face, but it was quickly doused to escape the scientist’s attention. The Colonel commented, “I don’t think I’m the reason you’re trying to murder your breakfast. Who’s barking up your tree?”
“She stole my pillows!” Rodney exclaimed suddenly, furiously digging through his cereal.
Bemused, John asked, “Who stole your pillows?”
“Wait a minute.” John wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Dr Weir stole your pillows? Why would she do that?”
McKay mumbled inaudibly, hoping he wouldn’t have to give an explanation. The Colonel’s face was split with a wide grin as he repeated, “You stole her pillows first? Rodney, you must be insane.”
Rodney mentally cursed Sheppard’s inhuman hearing. He pushed his chair back, ready to make a hasty retreat. John stood up before he did, offering, “Do you need help getting them back?”
“Would you?” McKay said hopefully. “You know where her apartment is…”
John shook his head and said firmly, “I’m not doing your dirty work. And if you ever want Dr Weir to support your pet projects, you’d better stop playing with fire. Just apologise.”
Rodney said indignantly, “I don’t play with fire!”
“I don’t suppose the word ‘sorry’ is in your vocabulary,” Sheppard drawled and walked away.
The few short hours of sleep Elizabeth Weir had managed to snatch after her revenge had been very comfortable. She slid into consciousness and immediately knew why she was so content. She patted the piles of pillows surrounding her, smiling triumphantly.
Elizabeth shifted so that one of Rodney’s pillows was under her head. She lay there for a moment, wondering when she was going to get a visit from a very peeved scientist. She turned onto her side, smirking.
No longer lying flat on her back, she was able to find his scent on the pillow. Weir closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It was almost intoxicating. She pulled the pillow from under her head and hugged it.
At that moment, there was a loud rapping on the door. Elizabeth froze, feeling caught in the act. The knocking came again and she scrambled out of bed, quickly changing from her pyjamas. She wondered what could be so urgent to demand her immediate attention.
“Elizabeth?” the query came from the other side of the door.
It was unmistakably the voice the humiliated scientist. Blushing even though he couldn’t see what she’d been doing, she opened the door. Dr Weir had been prepared for an outburst, but found herself surprised.
Rodney was holding flowers. They were some of the dead ones that the Ancients had left behind, but he didn’t know that. He thrust them into her face awkwardly, frantically trying to think of something to say to accompany the flowers. Elizabeth took the flowers and prompted with a small smile, “Apology?”
“Apology, right,” McKay remembered self-consciously, “I’m…sorry for stealing your pillows.”
She raised her eyebrows and demanded in mock-sternness, “Are you only apologising to get your pillows back?”
Unperturbed, Rodney produced the other peace offering that he had. It was his own mug full of steaming hot coffee. He held it out to her, triumph appearing over his anxiety. He stated with superiority, “That should more than let me off the hook.”
“Does it now?” Elizabeth smirked.
There was then a desperate look in his eyes that appealed to her in ways that his words wouldn’t. Caving in, she laughed. “I’ll have them returned by lunch time.”
Weir was about to shut the door when she made the mistake of looking back at the smile that Rodney sported. Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Surprised by her own actions, Elizabeth retreated into her apartment.
She managed to sound casual as she told him, “I would say that you are forgiven, Rodney.”
The door slid shut.
Rodney McKay stood frozen outside the door with a stunned expression on his face. He shook himself out his stupor, muttering under his breath, “It’s just platonic. She’s not interested.”
He remembered how she’d hugged Colonel Sheppard and a hollow pang ran through him. Chagrined by his brief moment of jealously, Rodney turned on his heel and walked briskly down the corridor.
Zelenka watched the Dr McKay enter the lab in a gloomy mood. The whole room seemed to darken with his arrival. Rodney sat at his desk and stared into space for the briefest of moments before getting to work at his laptop. The rapid tapping of keys signalled a solid block of working.
Passing the moment off as one of Rodney’s idiosyncrasies, Radek returned to his work. It wasn’t long, however, before McKay’s speedy typing slowed down to a snail’s crawl. Surprised by the break in pace, Zelenka looked over to see Rodney again staring into space.
“Problem?” the Czech queried cautiously.
Rodney blinked and shifted his eyes to his screen. He was angry at his lapse in concentration. He lied, trying to sound casual, “I was just thinking through something. Well, shouldn’t you be working?”
Zelenka didn’t bother to answer, wondering at McKay’s unusual behaviour. Silence again reigned, but it was also short lived.
Rodney jumped to his feet and said in a strangled voice, “Excuse me.”
He promptly walked into an Ancient supply closet. A few moments later, he stepped out and awkwardly babbled some sort of excuse before disappearing outside. Zelenka, now thoroughly concerned, walked over to Rodney’s laptop and peered at what he had been working on.
The formula McKay had been working on stopped abruptly mid-page, interrupted by the words “platonic” and “she’s not interested”. Zelenka sat back in the chair, startled.
“Jezis, Rodney,” he muttered and left the lab also.
Elizabeth Weir was perusing some reports when she heard a knock at the door. Without glancing up, she called,
There was a hurried entrance. She looked up to see Zelenka looking hesitant. The Czech said with some trepidation, “Rodney is acting in a peculiar way. What did you do?”
“I said I was going to give his pillows back. I didn’t do…oh,” Elizabeth realised, putting her hand to her mouth. “Is he angry?”
Zelenka shook his head. “Ne, not angry. To tell the truth, I think he is unhappy that he cannot have you.”
Weir was taken aback. She considered, “All I did was kiss him on the check…do you really think…?”
“I don’t know, Dr Weir,” Radek answered honestly.
After lunch, Rodney made a very important trip to his apartment. No matter of business was more urgent than making sure his pillows had made it back safely. He entered and immediately sought out his bed. Sure enough, his stack of pillows had been returned.
He sank onto his hoard, content at last. After his moment of bliss, Rodney made short work of counting the pillows. At first, he put the mistake down to lack of decent food but after two more counts, it could not be proved wrong.
The incriminating pillow was not his. It was the same colour roughly, but definitely not one he’d had before. Rodney debated for a moment what to do. He could return it or he could keep it. He really wanted another pillow, but it was hers. It could have accidentally ended up in his apartment.
Rodney stood for a full five minutes staring at the pillow, trying to reach a decision. Finally, he threw his hands up in frustration and grabbed it.
“I do not understand,” Teyla said frankly. “Why are we spying on Dr McKay?”
Colonel Sheppard held up his fist and she fell silent, stopping just behind him in a crouch. Footsteps echoed down the corridor they were peering into and in a few moments, Rodney McKay stalked by, holding a pillow. John waited until the footfalls had died down before tapping his radio.
“He’s coming,” he reported, “with the pillow.”
Elizabeth sounded as if she was trying to hold back laughter as she responded, “Thank you, John.”
Sheppard turned to Teyla and said casually, “Well they’re going to be occupied for a while.”
“Should we not also be occupied?” Teyla suggested, eyes twinkling.
Rodney went straight to Dr Weir’s apartment, figuring that she would be in her office. He was about to work on the lock when the door slid open. He jumped back in surprise and tried to think of a good excuse for snooping around.
“Hello,” Elizabeth smiled, exposing one too many teeth.
Rodney couldn’t help but feel like an antelope about to be pounced on the Discovery Channel. Nervously, he held out the pillow and managed, “This isn’t mine.”
“It must have accidentally been sent down,” she commented and took it. “Thank you. Now that you’re here, could you do me a favour?”
He glanced at his watch and began, “I don’t have time…”
“Just a few minutes,” Elizabeth beseeched.
She turned and disappeared inside. Rodney again glanced at his watch, sighed in frustration and followed her. He noticed that her bed was unmade with her pillows lying haphazardly around.
“I need help making my bed,” Weir explained. “I can’t seem to get it. The Ancients never liked doing things the easy way.”
It didn’t look that complicated to Rodney, but he bit his tongue. Wanting to stay on her good graces, he mutely began tucking in the sheets. She joined him on the opposite side of the bed. She gestured to a pillow behind him. “Can you pass that?”
McKay picked it up and threw it over to her. Elizabeth failed to catch it, the pillow bouncing out of her hands. She laughed and planted her hands on her hips, “Were you trying to hit me?”
“No,” Rodney replied, frowning.
“Too bad you missed.”
And she lobbed it back at him, hitting his midsection.
Rodney stood there, blinking and stunned from the blow. He had never expected that from the leader of the expedition. Elizabeth raised a pillow, poised for the next attack. Rodney seized another and jumped across the bed at her. She was ready, also leaping to the offence.
Her frenzied attack gave her the upper hand. Laughing, she shoved the pillow past his and whacked him around the head. Rodney feigned injury and flopped back on the bed. Elizabeth let off the whirlwind attack, concerned. She moved closer to make sure he was alright. Immediately, McKay took the moment to throw a pillow at her.
It was poorly aimed and glanced off her shoulder. Elizabeth snorted and threw it back. Rodney caught it in the stomach and again tried some deception. This time it didn’t work. The fight was relaunched right away.
The pillow Rodney had been wielding split. Purple feathers flew out. He stopped and held it up for inspection, demanding, “Purple feathers?”
“It’s a bird on the mainland,” she explained. “I had the Athosians make some pillows.”
Rodney threw it at her, feathers scattering the space between them. The continued for a shorter amount of time, laughing both laughing so hard they were red in the face. When the air was thick with the feathers, they were worn out. Elizabeth noted from her position on the bed, “I don’t think I can get up.”
“Well whose fault is that?” Rodney asserted haughtily.
She whacked him, but not hard. He rubbed the sore spot and tried to paste a hurt expression on his face, but it didn’t work. There was a long silence as they just lay there, panting for breath. After this pause, Elizabeth said, "Rodney?”
“You’re lying on my bed,” she pointed out hesitantly.
Rodney tensed. He sat up very quickly and glanced at his watch, saying tersely, “I’d better get back to the labs.”
He began brushing the feathers off. Elizabeth reached over and stroked his back, disguising the action as helping him. He was oblivious to this and stood up, patting his head for any feathers there.
She also stood up. Nervously. Rodney turned towards her, eyes unsettled. Affected by their proximity, Elizabeth took a moment to clear her head. Rodney found himself drawn to her. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the nearest centre of gravity was Dr Weir.
Rodney could no more stop leaning into her than he could stop the flow of time. This one thought in his mind was quickly numbed when he pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a full kiss, but it certainly wasn’t just friendly. There was a moment that he forgot sense. When it returned to him, Rodney drew back, aghast.
“I have to go,” he said hurriedly and fled.
Elizabeth watched him go, a hand rising to her lips. She wanted to call after him, but she couldn’t find her voice. Now she knew how he felt.
Zelenka had thought the labs had been dark before, but now there was a constant storm hovering around Dr McKay. The irritable Canadian had yelled at several lab assistants repeatedly even when there had been no experiment in progress. Taking this as a sign that the plan had gone awry, Zelenka made a trip up to Weir’s office.
“What happened?” he demanded.
Elizabeth recounted the events, absently fiddling with the reports on her desk. She admitted, “I don’t know what to do next.”
“If you want the city intact,” Radek advised, “you will not lead him on.”
It was late. This usually wouldn’t bother Rodney, but he had been shooed from the lab unceremoniously by the various underlings there. Apparently they were operating under the orders of someone or other who has his well-being at heart, perhaps Dr Beckett.
Anywhere he tried to take his laptop, there were people working or people canoodling. It annoyed Rodney so much that he stormed back to his apartment to try to get some work down there. He did manage to escape into some solace – but not for long.
He was interrupted by someone knocking on his door.
Rodney yelled in that general direction, “WHAT?”
“It’s me,” Said Elizabeth Weir’s voice from the other side.
Of all people, she was the person he least wanted to see. Rodney settled for pretending there had been no disruption and typed busily away at his laptop. This lasted for two minutes.
“Rodney, open this door.”
He debated whether or not to let her in. McKay supposed that she would just exact some form of revenge again. He thought “open” at the door. Nothing happened, not that he had thought it would. With a disgruntled sigh, he got up and moved over to the door to let her in.
There was nothing sinister in Elizabeth’s expression. She stepped inside immediately, even as Rodney opened his mouth to protest. She stated in official tones, “I need a pillow.”
So she was pretending it didn’t happen. Rodney could deal with that. He was too relieved to be angry that she was after his pillows again. He glanced over at his pillows, demanding, “Which one?”
“What do you think?” Elizabeth rejoined rhetorically.
Rodney picked up the closest pillow to him, but she shook her head. He went to pick up the next one, gauging her reaction – negative. He cleared his throat in agitation. “You’re not making this easy.”
“Try again,” Weir suggested.
He pointed to the next – no. Rodney went through his stash of pillows with all her answers the same. Finally, he’d reached the end. He frowned at her, but she smiled in silent laughter.
“I have no more pillows,” he said matter-of-factly.
Elizabeth declared steadily, “I know what pillow I want.”
Rodney groaned in agitation. He shot a livid look at his pillows as if they’d betrayed him. He tried to think of some halfway polite way of getting her out of his apartment. She said in a softer voice, “Rodney…I want you.”
McKay stared at her in disbelief. He glanced away at his pillows again, clarifying, “So you don’t want that pillow?”
“Stop stalling and kiss me.”
Rodney stood still in astonishment for a moment longer, then decided he wasn’t going to let her change her mind. He covered the distance between them quickly and acquiesced with her request. The kiss that followed was one that Rodney would have gladly caught an incurable virus for. He pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. When they parted, she pressed her face into his chest and murmured,
“What?” Rodney frowned.
She laughed and turned her head up to smile at him. She said softly, “My Rodney pillow.”
He grimaced, then coloured as Elizabeth laughed at him again. She pulled him into a kiss, wiping the look off his face completely.
Elizabeth Weir did get her pillow in the end. She woke in a room that was not her own with soft snoring in her ear. For a moment, she wondered how she’d got there. She noticed she was in the clothes she’d worn yesterday. Memory flooded back to her and she smiled to herself.
She seized the nearest pillow and, grinning wickedly at the sleeping form of Rodney, launched her attack.
Rodney McKay woke as he was half-clobbered to death by a pillow. He immediately sprung into action and snatched the pillow from under his head and returned fire. The defence of his person was his first waking instinct. Remembering that it was Elizabeth, he slowed the ferocity of his attack.
“Um, hi.” He attempted to establish communication.
The lapse was a costly one – her next attack was the tickle of doom. Trying hard not to laugh helplessly, Rodney rolled out of the way. During the retreat, he took a moment to evaluate his situation. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against her. Deciding to take the offensive, he threw himself past the pillows she was wielding and landed on top of her.
Elizabeth began tickling him again. He gave a shout of laughter, then struggled against her. Having enough of this game, Rodney grabbed her arms and trapped them by her side. He asked sardonically, “Now is that how you say good morning?”
He lowered his lips to hers, but she pulled away. Elizabeth crawled out from under him and waved a finger in his face. She smiled. “Don’t you know how bad morning breath is? This isn’t the movies.”
“I was just starting to think that,” Rodney commented, “because this is too perfect.”
Everyone in Atlantis noticed the stronger connection between Dr McKay and Dr Weir almost immediately. Anyone, when asked why information got from the science department to the expedition leader faster than any other section, would answer that it was all a matter of pillow talk.
As for the happy couple, their combined stash of pillows was seen by both of them to be a very good investment.