sga_flashfic | Five Conversations ... by marcicat (Five Things Challenge)

Title: Five Conversations Woolsey Will Never Know About, With Bonus Prologue and Epilogue
Author:

marcicat
Rating: PG
Pairing: Well, there's no kissing, but it is SGA, so... implied McShep?
Summary: There's something to be said for preparation.

--PROLOGUE--

Rodney was in the infirmary when he got the text. Of course he was in the infirmary -- where else would he be?

SGC says Woolsey replacing Col. Carter as head of Atlantis. Mult. reviews planned.

He read it twice, because it had been a long day (week, month, year), and he didn't want to waste the energy to panic if it wasn't absolutely necessary. But it said the same thing the second time through, and he didn't think a genius should have to read things three times. Then he considered what Woolsey might be reviewing. Michael, Carson, the gene experiments. Ronon (again). The baby, the Asurans, Todd. Elizabeth. Crap, he thought. We are so screwed.

Out loud, he said, "This could be a problem."

No one answered, but across the room, a nurse gave him a rude look. Possibly trying to indicate through her gaze alone that he was in the infirmary, and people were trying to rest. Rodney ignored her as deliberately as possible, turning his back as he keyed his radio.

"Zelenka, wake up."

-- 1 --

If the head of the Atlantis science division wanted to schedule a meeting with a Lieutenant in the military division to make plans for the leadership changeover, three separate forms were required, and minutes from said meeting would not only have to be recorded, but also filed within 36 hours.

If, on the other hand, Rodney McKay just happened to bump into Laura Cadman in the mess hall, it would only be natural to chat about current Atlantis events. That was just being neighborly, after all.

"McKay!" Cadman's voice practically echoed as she called across the sparsely populated mess. He headed over to her table, wishing he'd arrived early enough to grab coffee. He'd thought her run would take longer.

"What are you doing up this early?" she asked, looking disgustingly perky and awake.

"What? Oh, I haven't slept yet." Rodney dropped into a chair. Cadman had coffee. He eyed it longingly. "What have you got?"

She tugged the coffee closer to her side of the table with a "hands off, McKay," but she pushed a fork and a plate of powdered eggs in his direction. "The city's pretty much on stand down with Colonel Carter back on Earth," she said. "I've got one crew working through the military reports and another doing general cleanup. Chuck's handling all the administrivia."

Rodney nodded and swallowed a mouthful of eggs, trying not to think about coffee. "Zelenka's checking the real sciences," he said. "The botanist has the fake ones."

Grimacing, he added, "I'll do medical."

To her credit, Cadman didn't question it. "What's the ETA, you think?" Then she sipped -- very obviously, Rodney thought -- from her mug, and he glared at her.

"Not today," Rodney said. "I'd say tomorrow -- long enough so it doesn't look like the IOA thinks it messed up not putting someone here before, but short enough to try to catch us off guard."

"McKay." Ronon's voice rumbled behind him, and Rodney indulged in an abbreviated eyeroll. "Twenty-four hours."

Cadman looked like she was about to laugh. "Naptime?" she asked innocently.

Rodney scowled. When half the team had ended up missing, Ronon had appointed himself Rodney's guard dog -- great when he was scaring off the idiots in the lab, bad when he was enforcing his 24-hour limit on going without sleep. Rodney wasn't sure whether he should be irritated or touched that Ronon was still doing it, even with Teyla and Sheppard tucked up safe in the infirmary.

"Fine, yes," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the door. "Let's go."

-- 2 --

Rodney woke up to the sound of voices.

"He's back in his room, with Dave watching him. He's probably going to have to be in a wheelchair for the greeting, though." That was Cadman, in a voice she probably thought was quiet.

"No," Ronon said, and Rodney actually had to strain to hear him. He realized they must be in the lounge, so Ronon could keep watch and still meet with the others. "Crutches will look better. Stronger."

"His leg is broken," Cadman protested, and Rodney shook himself all the way awake as his brain caught up with the conversation enough to realize they were talking about Lorne.

"Ronon's right," he said. "He can get to the control room in a chair, but when Woolsey steps through the wormhole, everyone's on their feet. Get Biro to sign off on it."

"Not Keller?" Cadman sounded surprised.

"We're going to use up all her goodwill getting Sheppard up there," Rodney said. He paused, then added, "Without crutches."

Cadman whistled, but Ronon just nodded. It had surprised Rodney, at first, how good Ronon was at -- well, everything, but in particular the ins and outs of the political posturing that was so much a part of the SGC and IOA. He didn't often have the patience to use it, which Rodney could relate to, but he knew how to make it work to his advantage -- or the advantage of Atlantis -- when it was necessary.

"How long was I asleep?" Rodney asked.

Ronon produced a Power Bar from somewhere and handed it over. "Couple hours," he said. "Figured you'd want to head back to the infirmary."

"And I'm off to bang heads together," Cadman said. Rodney wondered who was about to receive her wrath, but since it apparently wasn't him, he didn't ask. "By the way, we're still waiting on reports from you and the Colonel."

Rodney hauled himself off the sofa with, he was sure, nothing even remotely resembling grace. He flapped a hand at her. "Yes, go -- you'll get them."

Cadman smirked at him. It was pretty much common knowledge that Rodney wrote 90% of Sheppard's reports. He wondered if they could stop for coffee on the way to the infirmary.

-- 3 --

"I think Woolsey would like a cake."

Rodney rolled his eyes at John's complete non-sequiter. "You're high; you don't get a vote. Here, sign these." He thrust the tablet at John -- currently under the influence of the really good pain meds, but still perfectly capable of signing off on reports.

John took it, but made no attempt to actually look at the screen. Instead, he waved it around as he spoke. "Not a cake, cake. A special cake, with little figurines of all of us on top. And the Athosians -- they could be on the cake too. And all the other people who haven't tried to kill us yet. Hey, are these my reports?" He was finally reading the tablet.

"I like cake," Ronon offered, which really wasn't helpful. Rodney couldn't yell at him though, because he was holding the baby.

Teyla was eating, and Rodney had assumed all of her attention was on her food and her son, but she looked up and said, "What would the figurines be made of?" It was times like these when Rodney couldn't be sure if she was serious, or if she was kidding and just had an amazing poker face.

John's expression drooped, and Rodney interrupted before he could make any more embarrassing comments. "Actually..."

Teyla's eyebrows shot up, and even Ronon looked interested. "No, not the cake," Rodney said, waving an irritated hand. "That's obviously completely ridiculous. But getting people from the different countries, that could work. And we've got Teyla already."

Teyla clearly caught on faster than the other two. "I believe several planets we have traded with in the past were represented among the prisoners rescued from Michael," she said calmly. "I am sure they would be happy to stand for Atlantis in your welcoming ceremony."

"Great, that's great. We'll, uh, still need someone to organize the Earth contingent," Rodney said. He tried not to look at Teyla.

"McKay," John said warningly, but Teyla laughed.

"I am a mother, John, not an invalid," she said. "I would be pleased to assist in any way that I can."

"Besides," Ronon added, as the baby waved a tiny fist. "No one's gonna say no to the woman with the baby."

-- 4 --

For the next several hours, Rodney read medical reports and tried to ignore the increasingly uncomfortable infirmary chair. Luckily, Keller was one for dotting all the i's and crossing all the t's in her reports. Unluckily, Biro was more likely to cross the i's and dot the t's, which made for some decidedly odd reading.

Teyla was off organizing people, possibly with Ronon in tow. John was keeping himself amused, and Rodney distracted, by tuning in to Chuck's announcements on the citywide radio channel.

"Chuck says hallway art is okay," he would say, or "Chuck says no team jackets at the ceremony, only original SGC-issued ones." Then, "Wait, he's amending that -- only official jackets and standard-color shirts for everyone." There was a pause as John listened. "Until the first major crisis." Another pause. "Betting will be open until an hour before arrival time for the timing and nature of the crisis."

"Three Power Bars says it's less than a week," Rodney said.

"A week? I'm putting a Hershey's on it being within a day," John replied.

-- 5 --

When Zelenka appeared in the infirmary doorway and made a beeline for Rodney, he was muttering. Never a good sign. Rodney opened up another report as he waited for the tirade to start.

"I cannot believe you stuck me with this job, Rodney!" Zelenka threw his hands in the air. "Bad enough half of them couldn't write an acceptable objective without someone holding the pen for them -- we've resorted to your method, it's that bad."

Rodney's method was to include the words "weapon" and "energy source" in the objectives for all his projects. Of course, nearly all of his projects were actually about one or both of those things, but in a pinch, it could be applied to nearly anything.

"But now --" Radek's volume increased again. "Now, Jameson comes to me and says he has no jacket! Like this is my problem to solve!"

"Wait, no jackets at all?" John asked.

Rodney frowned. "Who's Jameson?"

Radek rolled his eyes. "Biologist, studying the snakes over on the continent. Apparently has sacrificed all his jackets because the baby snakes like them best for nesting."

"Hatchlings," Rodney said absently.

"What?" John asked.

"Baby snakes," Zelenka told him.

"Okay, I can't deal with this," Rodney said. "This is not our problem. Just -- tell him to stay away from Woolsey for a while."

"On the plus side," John said, "I think we just found a babysitter for Torrin."

--EPILOGUE--

It felt strange to be wearing science blue again, and Rodney tugged at his jacket. Then he let himself breathe a (small) sigh of relief. Every department was checked and double-checked; all inventories, reports, and mandatory personnel evaluations were filed. The crisis pool was closed and all bets were safely stashed away behind closed doors. Everyone on the welcoming committee -- including Sheppard and Lorne -- was standing ready and in the correct uniform. Around them, Atlantis gleamed in the sunshine.

For a moment, there was silence, like everyone was holding their breath.

Then someone sneezed, and someone else laughed. John muttered something that made Ronon roll his eyes.

Finally, "Incoming wormhole -- it's the SGC." The shield disappeared, and Rodney straightened his spine. Showtime.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

opinion-wench.livejournal.com

Um, since when did Stargate Atlantis = McShep?

There wasn't even any McShep in here. Implied or othewise.

From:

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags