sga_flashfic | Piano Man by Rachael Sabotini (Darkness Challenge)

wickedwords.livejournal.com posting in

Title: Piano Man
Author: Rachael Sabotini
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Summary: Every time Rodney entered the recreation hall, he saw 'it'

Thank you to the wonderful

elynross for the beta. No money made, no harm intended. All mistakes are my own.

Every time Rodney entered the recreation hall, he saw 'it' -- it being an Ancient free-standing keyboard that apparently had no other purpose than to make sounds. The team had moved it in here after the ZPM arrived, wiring it into the network for people to play around on once it was clear that it wasn't needed for any important system. Like the sword in the stone, everyone had stepped up to take a chance at playing the thing, and as far as he knew, no one had managed to get anything credible out of it. He'd heard sounds worse than poorly-played bagpipes issue from it, as well as notes of clear and brilliant beauty.

Every time he saw it, Rodney itched for a crack at it, a chance to figure out how it worked and document it all. He hated being in the dark about anything, and the fact that an Ancient musical instrument had defeated everyone was a real challenge. There had to be a way to codify what was required to make the music good, and he was the one who could do that.

Just as soon as he had the time.

So when Elizabeth demanded that John's team take a break and barred Rodney from any and all laboratory work, Rodney decided it was time to try his hand at the keyboard.

He got up early, threw on his remaining bowling shirt and a pair of shorts made from the remains of his last torn uniform, grabbed breakfast, and trundled into the rec area before anyone found him.

John was already there, curled up in the couch by the window, quietly reading one of the books from the Atlantis free-floating library.

Rodney squinted. It looked like Godel, Escher, Bach, but he couldn't be sure. "You always go in for the light reading, don't you?" He set his laptop and the rest of his equipment on the bench by the keyboard and knelt on the floor, looking for an access panel. He had planned to seal up the room so no one could disturb him, but with John here, that was a lost cause.

"It helps to pass the time."

"I would have thought--" Ah, here it was. He set his hand on it, closed his eyes, and thought 'open'. The panel swung open, revealing a set of twelve crystals.

Rodney never got tired of that.

"I would have chosen something with more action in it, myself, but most of those books are already checked out. It was either this, or If Chins Could Kill."

"Hhm, yes. Sounds fine," Rodney said, examining the crystal. He popped up a moment, grabbed the calibrator, and looked John. "Hey, if you're here, would you mind pressing one of these levers for me?"

"Sure." Marking his place, John set the book down and rolled off the couch. Like Rodney, he'd taken advantage of official downtime to dress in jeans instead of his uniform. "What do you need me to do?"

"When I tell you, press down on this lever here."

"This one?" A noise like a flatulent ox bellowed out of the device, right in Rodney's ear.

"Ow! Wait until I tell you."

John grinned.

They had worked out a code. John sat beside him on the bench, and when Rodney waved his hand, John would press the keys in combinations, calling out the matrix as he went. Rodney would note the results, look at the crystals and the diagnostics, then tell John to move to new combinations.

It was all very exciting, and John seemed to agree.

By the time mid-afternoon rolled around and John had grabbed them both lunch, Rodney was convinced that he had a pretty good schematic on how the keys and levers corresponded to the sounds and what kind of range it had.

"Let's give it a try, then, shall we?" John rubbed his hands gleefully and patted the bench next to him. "You think you can play something on this thing?"

Rodney momentarily froze, wincing inside; he hadn't played anything in years. "It's not like there's written music for it."

"All I'm looking for is something that doesn't sound like a Wraith's wail or a massive electrical overload."

"That I think I can do." Rodney made a production of it while John watched, flexing his hands over the device, fingers settling over the keys. "I shall now play the greatest song ever written, 'Ten Happy Little Fingers.'"

"That movie was really creepy, you know."

"What can you expect from a movie where the set and costumes were designed by Dr. Seuss?" He pressed a few of the keys and managed a credible version of chopsticks --played on a tuba.

"That's vaguely disturbing." John looked at the keyboard. "It sounds like an ooglahorn to me."

"An ooglahorn?"

"Another great Seussian invention."

"Yes, well. Hmm. How about you hold down that lever there, and this one here, and I try that again?"

John did as asked, his hands holding the levers steady while Rodney tried a scale. This time it sounded almost right, a bit like a harpsichord, actually. "How about we try something a bit more complicated?"

"Sounds good."

"When I nod at you, shift your hands here and here."

"Cool."

They worked their way through woodchucks and Irish roses, and Rodney scrambled for things to play. He ended up sticking to songs he'd been forced to learn in fifth and sixth grade, as most of them had a fairly easy melody line and repetitive chorus.

Plus, John seemed to know them and would occasionally sing along quietly. Each time he did, Rodney felt a small thrill run up his spine; this was what he had always craved, an audience for his musical work. He'd had dreams once of a career as a famous pianist, with a huge fan club, and adoring groupies. Instead he got to play nursemaid to an alien city and all of the people in it.

"I know that one!"

Rodney pulled his hands away from the keyboard as if stung while Elizabeth stepped up to the ooglahorn, her eyes alight. "Sound of Silence, right?" They'd been involved in what they were doing that they hadn't noticed her entrance.

That happened to Rodney a lot.

John looked up at her. "You know all the words?"

She shook her head. "Just a couple of lines." She instantly started in with the opening phrase, and John swung in behind her.

Rodney tried playing for a bit, but apparently John could either sing or he could hold down the levers when Rodney nodded to him, but not both. Rodney left off the ooglahorn to join in their singing, and somehow they managed to cobble the song together. The notes weren't always right, and the lyrics were occasionally reduced to 'something, something, something' -- which made all of them smile as they sang -- until at last they reached what they thought was the end.

John and Elizabeth's eyes were filled with laughter, and for the first time in a long while, Rodney felt proud of his music.

"Dr. Weir?" The page came through into the rec room, loud and clear.

Elizabeth touched her radio. "Go ahead."

"We need you in the jumper bay. Stackhouse's team is back, and they've brought something you might like to see."

"I'll be right there." She nodded to John and Rodney. "Maybe we can try it again some other night."

"Sounds good," John said, smiling.

"Fine, fine." Rodney swallowed hard and flexed his fingers, realizing that they ached. "Next time we're off duty."

"That may be awhile" She squeezed Rodney's shoulder, and patted John's back. "I'm glad you managed to finally get your day off."

Rodney watched her leave, and when he turned back to the ooglahorn, he caught John staring at him with a funny expression. "What?"

"I didn't know you could do that."

"Do what?"

"Play an ooglahorn."

"I don't tell you everything you know. And I just happen to be Atlantis's most accomplished ooglahorn player."

John nodded his head in agreement. "You are at that."

Rodney ducked his head slightly and waved John away. "My people will be sure and send you an autograph."

"A real Rodney McKay autograph." John stood and stretched, his T-shirt riding up slightly on his stomach, revealing his abs. "I can hardly wait." He nodded off toward the hallway. "I'm catching dinner. You wanna come?"

Rodney's breath caught in his throat, and he felt a little unsteady as he answered, "Okay. I'll just," he gestured at his pile of equipment, "meet you there, shall I?"

"It's a date." John winked at him, picked up his book, and headed for the hallway. "I'll be waiting for Atlantis's premier ooglahorn player out on deck one."

Rodney stared after him, laptop in hand. Perhaps the groupie idea wasn't such an insane one after all.

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amezri.livejournal.com

This was cute :) I enjoyed it a lot. Also, Bruce shoutout! :D I heart Bruce.

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