Crosshairs - esteefee - Stargate Atlantis [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Prologue

Somewhere in Nevada...

The glow from the device started as a small golden bubble bobbing unevenly in the air until it expanded suddenly, causing cries of panic. The base's internal alarms went off, and the security officers in the area started hurrying the observers out, but it was already too late: the bubble expanded to encompass them all with an almost blinding flash.

In the sudden silence, eleven bodies lay on the floor.

Somewhere in Beverly Hills...

John didn't usually lean against anything when he was on detail, but his protectee was safe in her own personal sauna behind the locked door John leaned beside, and it had been a long, exhausting day. Celebrities were no fun at all, and John was going to give Sam an earful for this one when the detail was done.

His headset crackled, and Ronon came on the channel. "Chief, you're not gonna believe this. I got a line on our creeper, and he's an old friend from her childhood. Her elementary school classmate."

"Oh, that's pitiful. What's his name? Are the Feds on him?"

"The guy's name is Brad Schrupp. I've notified the Colonel."

"Schrupp. Well, okay: tell Caldwell I want Schrupp in custody yesterday. It's bad enough we have to do his work for him; I'm not catching a bullet because some stalker thinks I'm her boyfriend."

Ronon snorted into his mic.

"Hey," John said earnestly. "I'm a catch."

"Yeah, you're a dish." The radio clicked over with a beep that signified they were on a private channel. "Does this mean we'll be on stand-by after this?"

"Nah. We just had a break. Once Schrupp is in custody, we're heading back to base."

"John. Zuma is macking right now. Big north swells."

"I know, buddy. It's outta hand," John said. "But you wouldn't want to disappoint the Big Guy."

"O'Neill's a softie," Ronon argued.

"Ha, you think so? The easygoing thing is an act."

"Doesn't matter. I've got dirt on him a mile deep."

John shook his head. "That Talent you got is creepy as hell, man. Do I want to know what you have on me?"

"Sir!" Evan, their Spotter, cut in on the open channel. "Kala is going out that tiny little window in the shower room."

"What the hell," John said, starting toward the front door. "Get to her, Evan. Any sign of Schrupp?"

"Not that I can see."

Still, John shifted into speed mode, and shot down the great staircase and out the front door. He picked up even more speed on the giant front lawn, fairly flying over it. He'd never get over how effortless it was, to be moving over the ground so fast it was like floating.

He was damned glad his reflexes had adapted along with the other changes, or he'd have run headlong into Evan as he caught up with him around the corner.

"Any sign of her?" John said.

"Jesus!" Evan stumbled to a stop and laughed a little. "Sorry, sir. She's about to go through the fence over there." He pointed, and John ran on to catch up with his wayward protectee, who knew damned well by now not to leave the security of her home without the team engaged.

"Kala," John said, slowing down as he got near so he wouldn't startle her. Kala stopped with her hand on the knob to the fence door. John said carefully, "Going somewhere?"

"I need some air," Kala said, her head tilted stubbornly.

"You have two acres of air to enjoy breathing in, not to mention the mansion and the Olympic-sized swimming pool," John said. "I'll get you some scuba gear for that."

"Don't try to be funny." Kala turned around and started back toward the house. "I'm losing my sh*t, right? It's been two weeks with you assholes and this scene is cooked? No cap, I need to chill with my moots."

"They can come here. All you have to do is say the word," John said, getting just ahead of her and leading the way back to the house.

"Oh, with you zombies? Gag me."

"Then we'll make a plan and execute. You don't just walk out the back door." John cupped his mic, "We clear, Ev? Over."

"All good."

"I want to go to Rodeo, right?"

John swallowed his sigh. "You got that, Ro? We're going to Rodeo Drive. Again."

"Copy. I'll have Teyla meet you."

"Great. Bring the car around. Ev, you're off duty until we get back."

John turned to Kala and said, "Okay, we're on for Rodeo. But no perfume shops this time!" Poor Teyla. Her face had puffed up so badly they had to hit her with the epipen. "Got it?"

Kala rolled her eyes. "Okay, boomer."

John gritted his teeth and prayed for the Feds to find Schrupp, and soon.

Somewhere in Boulder, Colorado...

"I'm telling you, it's mathematically undecidable!" Radek shook his head comically, his hair flying every which way.

"I'm saying it depends on the quantum measurements obtained," Rodney returned.

"How? I do not follow."

"Just a small hypothesis I've been tossing around. But stay with me: if the states of elementary quantum systems can encode mathematical axioms, well, quantum mechanics imposes an upper limit on how much information can be encoded in a quantum state. So—"

"Ah! And thus limiting the information content of the set of axioms—"

"And thus it can reveal whether a given proposition is decidable or not."

Radek nodded. "Brilliant."

"Yes, of course," Rodney said, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's mine."

Radek rolled his eyes and picked up the dry erase marker to wiggle it back and forth. "If this is true, it follows you should be able to solve the suspension matrix problem."

Rodney stared at Radek's innocent expression and felt his blood start to pound in his temples. "What...? Did you just...?" Lunging at his laptop, Rodney almost fell out of his chair in his haste to start applying the encoding equations to his simulation.

"You're welcome. No need to credit my genius," Radek said, waltzing out of the room on light feet.

Rodney growled under his breath and kept typing.

The simulation was a success. Of course. It was a huge stride forward in the power project, and Rodney accepted the congratulations and adulation of his peers with his usual preening.

But after he'd written up his evaluation and emailed it to Elizabeth, he looked up and realized he was utterly alone. The darkened lab was quiet and somewhat stuffy, the air conditioner having shut off at six, and a cold well of loneliness bubbled up in his chest.

It didn't used to be like this. He used to be surrounded by like-minded geeks and had someone there who—

With a curse, Rodney slapped his laptop shut and stormed out the door.

Somewhere in a dark office...

Jack cursed, and his yo-yo string tangled. "You've got to be kidding me," he said, then raised his head as Sam appeared in her silent way. "Have you seen what just landed on my desk? What am I saying—you probably put it here."

"I did, sir." Sam smirked. "I promise; you won't have to deal with him."

"I better not. I still have bedsores that want a word with him."

"You know it wasn't his fault—it could have happened to any of us. Heck, even me."

Jack grunted. "Not a chance, Carter." He spun around in his chair, hands running over the smooth leather. "Who're you putting on it?"

"Phoenix team."

"Oh, this I gotta see."

Sam's smile was knowing. "I thought you didn't want to deal with him."

"Observe, Carter. I'll observe. It is my job, after all."

"Right, sir," she sighed.

Jack chuckled. "And hey, I told you to stop calling me 'sir.'"

"Yes, sir," she said, her dimples making an appearance.

"Right." He nodded then got to work fixing his yo-yo.

Somewhere in Denver, Colorado...

John nodded at Jonas before tapping on Carter's open door.

"Reporting as ordered, ma'am."

"Come on in and close the door. Jonas, hold my calls," Sam said into her intercom. "So," she sat back and folded her hands on her lap. "How did it go with Kala the Great?"

John winced. "Well, she's not dead yet. She isn't even wrinkled. But it took some work keeping her from jumping into trouble with both feet. Honestly, ma'am, can we please ban celebrities from the client list?"

Grinning brightly, Sam nodded. "This was a one-off, a favor for the Secretary of State. She's his niece."

"Well, sh*t. Ronon didn't tell me."

"Need to know."

"Caldwell pulled her stalker into custody, and he's been charged under California Penal Code 646.9a. Ronon handed over all the incriminating files. We also have Kala's testimony, and the physical evidence is already in Caldwell's custody."

"Good job, John." Sam bit her lips together, then leaned forward, her hands braced on the desk. "I hate to do this to you, but your team is the best we have, and this needs careful handling."

"What is it?" John tensed.

"We have a possible problem looming. We need Phoenix to place observation on a DoD-sponsored lab in Boulder. If the potential nexus plays out, we will need Phoenix to engage in protection."

"Sounds fair." John pulled out his notebook. "What's the name of the lab."

"Prometheus Technologies."

John nodded. "Never heard of it. What technologies?"

Sam grimaced. "New power sources; specifically, working with extracting vacuum energy and storing it."

It felt like something had frozen John's face, making it impossible to speak. Somehow, he forced the words out.

"Who's the lead scientist on the project?"

"Rodney McKay."

Small World

Rodney approached the heavy glass office doors with the same caution he did trimming his cat's claws. He rapped against the open door on the right and grimaced at the pain in his knuckles.

"I can come back later if you're busy, Dr. Weir."

"Come in, Dr. McKay. I was expecting you."

"Yes. I got your email." Rodney sat down in front of her desk and tried his best not to fidget. "What is this, um, regarding? You marked it urgent."

Weir steepled her fingertips together and stared at Rodney over the tops of her hands. "Dr. McKay, when I hired you, over the objections of my research and development team, it was with the understanding you wouldn't cause any issues in the department."

"I'm not! I mean, I haven't. I've been developing the new power source just as promised. It's coming along great! I mean, obviously quantum randomness will continue to be a problem until we learn how to harness the—"

"Dr. McKay," Weir said, bringing him to a halt. "I do get your status reports. My concern is that you don't cause Prometheus any issues as you did with your…previous assignment."

Rodney went dizzy so fast he was certain his heart had stopped beating. He put a finger to his pulse to make sure. "My...previous assignment?"

"I received a call this morning from the Department of Defense. They made it very clear someone would be by to monitor our progress. Obviously, I wasn't expecting such a call at this point in our development. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, nothing! They can't do that, can they? This is my work!"

"Yes, our work, but funded by the US Government. So we will be giving them any access they require. And we're already behind on the schedule for landing this thing. Or am I wrong?" She crossed her arms.

Rodney grimaced. "No."

"So, we will cooperate with the DoD officers to the best of our ability and answer any questions they might have, correct?"

"Yes, of course." Rodney's stomach was solid ice. "Did they ask to speak to me specifically?" he asked slowly.

"They certainly don't want to talk to me. All I do is buy you increasingly expensive equipment." She waved her hand, and he hurried out.

This was so not good. So very not good. But as long as no one from the old Special Projects Division caught wind of what he was doing, he should be all right. There had to be three quarter of a million civilians working for the Department of Defense, not to mention the military. The chances of his previous employers catching wind of his tiny little project were minuscule. Minuscule!

With that reassuring thought, Rodney went back to the lab.

Buggin' Out

Ronon slipped into John's office and flopped into the chair opposite him.

Shoving off his headset, John said, "Well?"

"Harder than I expected, but thanks to the DoD data, I'm in."

"In just two hours?" John raised an eyebrow.

Ronon shrugged. "They gave me port maps, firewall configurations. No passwords, but that was enough."

"That'll sure piss off McKay." And, yeah, maybe John got a tiny thrill out of that.

"I'll show him how to close the holes."

"But not just yet," John said. "We have one week to mine some data, define the nature of the threat, and then we go in to tighten up all security."

Ronon nodded and plucked the Rubik's cube off John's desk. "I've identified at least three vulnerabilities that could have been exploited previously; one looks like an intentional back door so McKay can connect remotely. Another is the out-of-date libraries for their older routers—they should talk to their IT department about patching those."

"And the third?" John grinned in anticipation, the gleam in Ronon's eyes tipping him off.

"I got in through one of their printers."

"You're sh*tting me."

"Nope." Ronon touched John's laptop and his screen sparked to life with a diagram.

"What's this? Oh, it's their network layout."

"Someone named all the printers after famous scientists," Ronon said, deadpan.

"Gee, I wonder who that might've been. This the one, in red?"

"Copernicus, yeah. All it took was guessing the IP address and I was in the printer network, and from there..."

"That's just sad."

Ronon tapped John's screen. A moment later, Rodney stared at John from his own laptop.

"Whoa," John said, licking his lips and leaning forward. Rodney didn't look much older, but he looked more mature, somehow. His forehead was creased and he had his teeth buried in his lower lip.

Those lips. John remembered those lips of Rodney's and what exactly they could do to a guy.

f*cker.

John cleared his throat. "How many feeds do you have set up?"

"Just a few. I don't want to tip them off. I'm still going through to see if there are any external actors."

"Needless to say, keep me posted." John's Rubik's cube, puzzle complete, clattered to his desk, forcing him to look up from the screen into Ronon's smirking face.

"You got it, Chief."

"Get outta here and go get packed. We leave tonight."

Ronon took off. John went back to looking at Rodney, but after a minute or so he switched off the feed and went back to his Detail plan.

He wondered, though, what Rodney was so worried about.

Oops I Did It Again

Rodney stared at his screen in disbelief. He'd done it. He'd finally done it. And the timing could not be worse. Not after Dr. Weir's little announcement a week prior.

"I do not believe the results will change no matter how many times you run the simulation," Radek said. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Do you realize how disastrous this is?"

"Success in creating the most powerful device known to mankind? This is only now occurring to you?" Radek sighed and scratched his head. "Yes, the implications are enormous."

"I just…I wanted to see if it was possible. After last time, I wanted to prove, well—never mind. I just…I'm good scientist, damn it."

"Yes, my friend. You are an excellent scientist. You will no doubt win a Nobel for this."

"If there's a world around to award one."

"You are impressively fatalistic. That should be my attitude."

"Maybe." Rodney rubbed his eyes. "I need sleep. Dr. Weir will want a write up my status, and obviously I'm not ready to just hand this over."

Radek shrugged. "Then don't. Make it less impressive, first."

Snorting, Rodney raised his head. "Since you assisted with at least the central equation, you know that's patently impossible."

"I thought you told me impossible was your starting point?" Radek tapped Rodney's computer monitor. "Try to lessen the output. Or limit the storage. One or the other."

Rodney buried his head in his hands. "It would be like defacing the Mona Lisa. Impossible."

"You have the humility of a turkey vulture. Hand me that marker, please. I will show you how it's done."

Rodney passed Radek the coveted blue dry erase marker, the only one left in the lab that still had a sharp tip. He watched numbly as Radek drew up the central transformer equation.

"You missed a square root," Rodney couldn't help pointing out.

"Stop picking at me, I was already correcting it."

"I have to admit your work improved quite a bit when your eyesight did."

Radek turned and gave him a small smile. "Yes, and thank you yet again. How many times have I thanked you?"

"Enough." Rodney turned toward the door. "I'll go tell procurement to order us some more markers."

"Excellent. Perhaps speak to Dr. Weir while you're at it to ask her for some more time."

"And now who's picking?" Rodney said, making a getaway. Instead of heading to Weir's office, he decided to buy the markers himself. He hadn't left the lab for days for fear of Weir's DoD flunkies arriving on the scene and raiding his workstation. So he'd been eating in the cafeteria and sleeping in his office, then using the gym showers when he felt his skin start to itch. But now he found himself craving real sunshine. Or maybe it was freedom from Weir's expectations.

The café closest to him was a chain. The coffee was thus substandard but fast and cheap, and he was able to put in his order on his phone and pay for two extra tall coffees while he walked over. He found the cups waiting for him at the counter, the lack of any human interaction an added boon.

Taking a seat at a table outdoors, he sipped slowly at the hot brew while he went through his emails. One piece of spam caught his attention—the sender appeared to be from inside his own company, but the username was unfamiliar, and the MTA agents in the header were obviously falsified with ridiculous names like "dawnpatrol.cowabunga.sd.us."

The body of the message said, "Surf's up."

An intriguing puzzle, but somewhat infuriating if it didn't come from his own IT department. Rodney had gone in and revamped the network when Prometheus was little more than a startup, before Weir acquired the funding that made it possible to procure all lab equipment Rodney and Radek could possibly desire, as well as a full crew of network administrators to handle spam of any kind. So Rodney forwarded the message, headers and all, over to Tracy to take a look.

Did this come from one of you clowns?

Just as he hit send, another message hit his box, this time from Dr. Weir.

Progress report? You're overdue.

Rodney cursed under his breath and took too big a gulp of his coffee, swallowing hard against the burn. A shadow seemed to pass over him, and he raised his head, but no one was there. Perhaps a cloud going over the sun. He looked down again and carefully thumbed a response to Weir.

We've hit a snag. I should have something soon.

For some reason, he didn't feel like appeasing Weir today. He tilted his head back and cracked his neck. What he wouldn't give to sleep in a bed again. Soon.

First, he had to break his beautiful equation.

The sound of traffic dimmed in his ears as he contemplated the possibility. Not the output of the subspace region, that was fixed by quantum geometry. But the size of the region, yes—he'd been very ambitious there, and perhaps instead of decreasing speed of output, he could decrease the initial vector and the destination structure. Of course, his fellow scientists would call him small-minded and unambitious. He could practically see deGrasse-Tyson sneering at him. How to disguise the limits he was placing on his own discovery?

The skin on his neck itched, and he rubbed at it, raising his head. His coffee had grown cold; too much time had passed. He stood up and threw away his empty cup, intending to reheat the other coffee when he returned to the office.

"Excuse me," a tall man said as he brushed by, nearly knocking Rodney off his feet in his rush.

"Excuse you, indeed." Rodney hurried away, looking back once to see the man staring back at him. Hoping he hadn't provoked the fellow, Rodney crossed the street just in case and rushed back to the office.

He'd forgotten about the incident by the time he finished his second coffee.

Settle Down

Evan took the lead in setting up the safe house. He'd somehow fallen into that role, and always figured it was because of his Talent. That's what they called them, amongst themselves: Talents. O'Neill started it because he was a little creeped out by their "oogie-boogie stuff," as he called it, and they went along to keep him comfortable with it.

But from the moment Evan woke up in the hospital and started hyperventilating because suddenly he could see the freaking dust mites crawling all over his bedsheets, he knew they'd all been changed forever, and there was nothing natural about it.

So Evan used his Talent to find them the best location, with the best vantage point, and no mold spores or insect problems. He didn't have O'Neill's x-ray vision, but he could also see hot spots in the walls and detect if there were any issues with the wiring.

"Just part of the service," he would say ironically every time Sheppard thanked him for finding such great hidey holes.

"Next time, get me a place with more outlets," Ronon said, grumbling from where he'd crammed himself under a desk to run some wiring.

"Jeez, some people are never satisfied," Vala said, startling Evan as she always did. Her Talent for disappearing into the woodwork was a pretty cool trick, but he wished she didn't use it to prank him so much. She liked teasing him for some reason.

"How many bedrooms are there?" Teyla asked, slinging her rifle bag by Vala's next to the door.

"One for you and Vala," Evan said, "one for me and Ronon, one for the Protectee, one for John, and another couple for gear and Ronon's full set up."

"How are we set for food?" Ronon popped out from under the desk and stretched. "We got my pizza coming?"

"A pineapple and ham, two meat lovers, and two veggies, all on order," John said. "They should be here by the time you guys finish setting up. So let's get to it."

Evan helped unload the vans and move the equipment and gear. For himself, he only had his firearms and vest for gear, but the others had more specialized equipment, everything from assault gear to umbrella mics. Of course, the Boss didn't need a mic; when she came out on a job with them, she could pick up a fly buzzing in an office three blocks away.

"Wow, that's a beaut, Tay. That new?" Vala made a kissy noise.

"I have had it for a while," Teyla said as she lovingly laid her sniper rifle on a blanket spread on the dining room table. "The laser rangefinder is my particular favorite."

"I'll bet," Vala said. "May I?"

Teyla nodded, detaching the rangefinder and handing it over. Vala spun it between her slender fingers with an appreciative noise, and Evan turned away.

"Ev, go help Ronon set up the displays, would you?" John said, amusem*nt in his voice.

Evan blushed and headed into the gear room. Ronon already had the displays on their stands, and waved Evan over to start hooking them up.

"Cables are in that box there," Ronon said. "I'll get started on the central board."

"Is it true?" Evan asked Ronon in a hushed voice. "McKay is the target?"

"He's not a target," John said in a hard voice, making Evan jump.

"No, of course not, sir. I meant protectee."

"It's looking that way." John's expression was neutral, but Evan had known him a long time, and John's mouth always gave him away. Right now, his lips were pulled thin.

"Right. Okay," Evan said, bending his head to his task.

"Oh, this is gonna be a blast," Ronon said, and John told him to shut up and hop to it.

"Yeah, a real blast," Evan said under his breath.

White Room

"You're certain he's the one?" The scientist stroked his full beard as he contemplated the photo. The man's blue eyes were quite remarkable. "Where is he right now, Mike?"

"He's working at Prometheus Technologies."

"What other work does this Prometheus do? Perhaps we shall have two birds, yes?"

His young assistant looked down at his pad and bit his lip. "I don't know, I'm sorry." Mike's voice trembled a bit; it was adorable. The scientist leaned on his palm and gave Mike his full attention. This only served to make Mike shrink further, until he appeared to be disappearing into his suit.

"Oh, Mikey, Mikey, Mike. You disappoint me." Trond tapped his lips with a finger. "Why don't you run along and find out for me before I lose my temper?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Trygstad. I'll do that right now," Mike said, backing away as he spoke. He was gone a moment later, leaving Trond alone to ponder the intriguing enigma on the page.

"Soon, doctor," Trond rumbled, smiling in anticipation.

What are you listening to?

Evan took the last bag of groceries out of the car and then shut the hatch. He gave top a tap to signal Ronon and then headed back into the house.

When he got to the kitchen, he found John on the phone trying to make a pot of coffee at the same time. Evan casually nudged John aside and took over. He could hear Sam on the other end of the line, her voice coming in clear over John's headset.

"...he won't be that cooperative."

"Well, he'll have to be, won't he? It's not like he can just shut his eyes and hope the problem goes away." John rubbed his forehead. "Ronon says likelihood is sixty-four point something percent and climbing, and that's without taking into account McKay's total lack of situational awareness. Ronon could have knifed him on the street yesterday without anyone noticing, including McKay. He's lucky Ronon just cloned his phone." Swallowing, John added. "There's been more chatter with his name. Encoded, but Ronon is working on it."

"That's not good. Have you considered bringing in Teal'c?"

"We won't pull in the big man until we have more for him to work with. You know how he gets."

"I do, indeed." Sam chuckled. "'I am an engine with no oil!'" she quoted in a low, gruff voice.

"Don't quit your day job," John said, smirking.

"And call me if it gets to be too much. I know this is personal—for all of us. But some worse than others."

Evan did his best to disappear into the woodwork. Unfortunately, that was Vala's Talent, not his, because John flicked him a side glance and hunched a shoulder.

"I'm fine. I'm no longer invested."

"If you say so."

"I'm gonna sign off before I have to remind you of the time you mooned our whole squad."

"I was in a hospital gown and walking around on pain killers, you jerk!" Sam laughed. "I'm definitely getting too close if you're dragging up academy stories." She paused. "Am I on speaker or something?"

"No. But Evan's here and his ears are almost as good as his eyes."

"All right. We'll pick this up later."

"I'm fine, Sam."

Evan doubted it, considering just last night he'd seen John staring at Rodney's face on the monitor and looking like he'd just been shot in the gut.

John said goodbye to Sam and hung up, poured out his coffee with a nod of thanks, and strode out of the kitchen without another word.

Since there was a little left in the pot, Evan got himself some coffee and used it to chase down his medication. It helped dim the faint ringing in his head. Well, not so faint anymore—it had gotten steadily worse, not that he'd told the team.

So far, the meds were handling it all right, but Evan knew it was just a matter of time.

Safe Place

Rodney looked both ways before typing in the code to the keypad and letting himself into the lab. Radek had beaten him in once again and was at his station, a material breakdown graph on his screen.

"High density of this unknown element, as you said. Have you named it yet?" Radek pointed at the purple peak jutting above all the rest.

"Neutronium."

"Oh, you make a funny joke." Radek rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious. For all we've been able to determine, it could be mythical unobtainium. All we know is, we've been unsuccessful in breaking off a single fragment of it.

"And yet it is cut." Radek tapped the small sample and it rang like a bell.

"I didn't do the cutting," Rodney said tensely. "Please lock it back up."

"Yes, I know, I know." Radek wrapped the sample back up in its cloth bag, placed it in the sample case, and returned it to the safe, closing the door with a solid thunk. "I will not ask where you got it."

"Because you know I can't answer."

"But to me, it seems fruitless to go down this path. We should find an alternative alloy, a known quantity with tested properties, one we know how to manufacture."

"And I've told you before, nothing we presently manufacture is strong enough to contain the charge." Rodney put his hand on the front of the safe. "This is our only option."

"You have tried all? You have tested? Even in simulation?"

"We don't have a complete library of all—"

"So, no, then."

"You are such a pain in my ass, Radek." Rodney sighed and sat down at his computer. "I'll put in an order for Hohenzollern's Compendium. And hope Weir doesn't bite my head off at the budget meeting."

Radek waved his hand. "Thank you," he said, overly grandiose, and turned back to his computer. "I am not, of course, precluding our creation of a brand-new element, ourselves."

"Now you're speaking my language," Rodney said.

They fell silent as they continued to work, occasionally throwing out a jibe or an observation. At one point, Rodney opened his drawer and pulled out a couple of packets of cheese and crackers, offering one to Radek, who shook his head. Eventually, Radek stood up and shut off his monitor.

"Leaving so soon?" Rodney said, hiding his disappointment.

"Yes, I have Ruslana waiting for me." Radek grinned. "You should come to dinner sometime. Her banosh is exquisite."

"It always looks like baby food when you bring it in."

Radek sniffed. "You have zero taste." Shrugging on his coat, he stalked out.

Rodney continued working on his dumbed down equation, or DDE as he and Radek had taken to calling it. The truth was, none of the scientific community, was capable of understanding this project on the same level as he and Radek, except for Samantha Carter, and Rodney wasn't even sure what she was doing since the accident. If she was still a scientist and caught wind of what he was doing, he hoped she would understand his real intent.

His eyes blurred a little staring at the white board, and when he looked up at the clock, it was hard to read as well, but he was pretty sure the little hand was past twelve. Grabbing his satchel and his keys, he left the office and headed to the garage where his car was parked. His little Prius sat alone and lonely in the nearly empty garage. Just before the automatic overheads turned on from his presence, the faint glimmer of a bright red LED reflected off the garage floor just beneath the car.

Paranoia had always been Rodney's dear friend. In this case, there was no one around to mock him for kneeling down to take a look at what might have caused such a mysterious glow.

The answer had him wheeling backward into the elevator room, sweat popping out on his forehead. He stabbed the button, lunged into the first car that appeared and hurried back to the safety of his office. Only once there did he feel secure enough to dial 911.

"No, I will not hold! There's a bomb under my car! Send someone right now!"

Let It Roll

John barely waited for Ronon to finish his report before tapping his earpiece. "Execute, execute, all team! We are go. The protectee is compromised. Repeat: execute, all team. We're wheels rolling in two." He shoved his laptop into its case and shrugged on his gun harness, then checked his spare magazines before holstering his Glock.

"I've got this," Ronon said, grabbing John's laptop case and slinging it onto his back along with what looked like a hundred pounds of gear.

"Thanks." John couldn't afford to have his hands busy when he was roper. His only concern was the protectee. He followed Ronon out to the first SUV, seeing with approval that Evan, Vala, and Teyla were already loading up the second.

"Did someone have a premonition?" he asked, entirely seriously.

"Just an itch between my shoulder blades," O'Neil said, coming up the drive with Sam beside him.

"Sir!" John stood up straighter. "I didn't know you were here."

"I wasn't," O'Neill said lazily. "In fact, I might not be. I'll have to think about it."

"Sir, we talked about this." Sam held out her hand, and John shook it. "Good to see you, John. Sorry about the drop in."

"No problem," John said ironically. "I'm perfectly comfortable with my boss and the big boss showing up for a surprise inspection."

"Hey! What did I say about calling me that?" O'Neill said, brushing off the cuff of his suit.

"Sorry, sir. 'The Guy.'"

"There we go."

"We're not checking up on you, John. We're actually here to see the protectee."

"You guys are so weak," Ronon said, coming up next to John. "Rodney. You're here to see Rodney. So let's roll."

John shrugged ruefully. "What he said. First car is ours, sir, ma'am."

"Oh, this is gonna be swell," O'Neil said, hopping in the passenger seat and slamming the door.

John tilted a look at Sam, who winced with her whole face.

"Super swell," John said, and took the wheel.

God's Away On Business

Sam stopped Jack just before he got into the elevator at Prometheus and said, "Let me take the lead on this, all right?"

Jack leaned against the wall, saying, "Only if you promise to let me drive on the way back to Denver. Honestly, Carter: for a pilot, you make one hell of a taxi driver."

"Yes, sir," Sam responded. Jack's tone was lazy, but the look in his eyes made it clear she'd better watch her step handling Prometheus. There was more at stake here than the life of an old coworker.

The others were waiting patiently for their cue, but Sam could feel John's eyes digging at her as they approached Weir's office. Sam stopped in front of the desk of Weir's executive administrator and smiled.

"We're here to see Dr. Weir." Sam displayed her credentials.

The admin touched his mouth as he looked them all over. They did make quite a sight, Sam had to admit, dressed all in black and wearing dark expressions. Yes, Sam was definitely taking the lead on this.

"Of course, ma'am. Dr. Weir is expecting you," the admin, Grodin, said, standing and waving one hand.

Sam gestured the team to stand by, and she and O'Neill followed Grodin.

"Dr. Weir, the people from the government are here."

Dr. Weir was a slender but strong-looking woman with brunette curls and a sharp smile. Despite the early morning hour, she looked well put together in a black suit and white shirt. Sam approached and offered her hand.

"Sam Carter, PhD."

"And a retired Air Force major, I believe," Weir said coolly. "Quite an impressive resume, Dr. Carter. And you must be Colonel O'Neill."

"Not anymore," Jack said. "I'm just a lowly paper pusher these days."

"Ah," Weir said, her voice betraying her disbelief. "Please sit down. Can I have my assistant get you anything? Coffee?"

"That's all right. The situation is obviously urgent." Sam took the chair on the left, while Jack slouched in the one on the right.

"Yes, of course. Your warning came a bit late, didn't it?"

Gritting her teeth, Sam said, "Of course, we informed you as soon as we received any intelligence. It's a very lucky thing Dr. McKay noticed the device."

"Yes, he has good self-preservation instincts. Right now he's locked in his laboratory and refuses to come out without a police escort."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "That's good thinking." Reaching into her briefcase, Sam pulled out a small sheaf of papers. "This is the formal request from the DoD for full access to your systems. This second form establishes a 24/7 protective detail for Dr. McKay. Can you please ask him to join us? We can have our team provide an armed escort to your office to discuss it."

"All right," Weir said easily. "I expect to be kept in the loop, of course. These are my people and this is my company."

"Of course," Sam said.

Jack cleared his throat and added, "To the extent it won't interfere with the FBI's investigation into the threat."

"Of course." Weir bowed her head gracefully and picked up her phone, dialing a number. "Dr. McKay? The federal officers are here to set up your security detail. I'm sending someone to escort you to my office."

"It's about damned time! Have they been sitting on their hands?" Rodney responded, although Sam imagined anyone without enhanced hearing wouldn't be able to pick it up through the headset, so she suppressed her grin at his familiar, cantankerous voice.

"Just wait for your escort," Weir said. "They'll be there shortly." She hung up and nodded at the door. "He shares a lab with Dr. Zelenka. It takes up most of the third floor."

"Thank you." Sam tapped her radio. "John. Dr. McKay is on the third floor. Please escort him up to Dr. Weir's office."

"Copy that," John said.

Jack said, so low only Sam could hear it. "This should be real interesting," and Sam kicked him under the desk.

Last Time I Saw You

Rodney splashed his face with water and dried it with a paper towel, staring at himself in the mirror afterward. The trials of the last six hours showed on his face—his eyes were bloodshot and his skin pale. The police had been less than helpful, the bomb squad inept and somehow accusing, as if he must have set the bomb himself in order to detect it. As if Rodney could be so incompetent. He'd seen enough of it to notice it was shoddy work.

Taking a deep breath, he left the bathroom and went to the door to await his security team. He'd happily welcome a Neanderthal knuckle-dragging escort if it meant he'd be safe.

A tap at the door had him looking up from his musings but the sight behind the glass made his heart stop.

"No." Oh, God. Not him.

John Sheppard stood there waiting, an ironic expression on his face. As Rodney tensed in shock, Sheppard raised his eyebrows and knocked again. Evan Lorne, his old shadow, stood at his shoulder.

Rodney shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no." In a flash, he was back seeing Sheppard behind another glass wall, alarms wailing as the deadly reaction escalated into a cataclysm.

Sheppard buzzed the intercom, breaking into the memory. For a long moment, Rodney couldn't do anything, utterly frozen. Then, with a shaky hand, Rodney clicked the talk button.

"What the hell do you want?"

"McKay, open the door. We're your protective detail."

Rodney choked on hysterical laughter. "You're just as likely to kill me yourselves! I'll take my chances with the assassin!"

Lorne snorted, and Sheppard elbowed him.

"We're here to protect you, McKay," Sheppard said, his voice even. "Scout's Honor."

The hysterical giggling wouldn't stop bubbling, and finally Rodney leaned over and let it out, laughing until he was wheezing, until finally tears ran down his face.

"Rodney? Jeez, Rodney, calm down, all right?" Sheppard had a hand pressed against the glass. "C'mon, open the door. Have you eaten anything this morning? What about some water?"

"No." Rodney wiped his face. Sheppard made a good point. As soon as the police were done with him, Rodney had just melted into his armchair and sank into a daze. "I could use a cup of coffee," he admitted.

"There you go. C'mon and open the door and we'll take you to coffee."

Rodney straightened slowly and unlocked the door, aware as he was doing it, he would probably regret it. It had practically broken him the last time he'd parted ways with John Sheppard.

"All right," John said as the door opened. "Ev, get McKay some water. He prefers bottled."

"Yes, sir." Lorne disappeared as Sheppard took Rodney's arm and guided him back to his chair.

"D'you have any food in here?" Sheppard was wearing a black suit for some reason, with a black shirt and tie. No uniform. Rodney wasn't sure what that meant, but he looked fine. Not sick at all anymore, no burn scars in sight.

"I have some PowerBars in that cabinet, there." Rodney pointed.

Sheppard went over to the cabinet, at the same time tapping the headset he was wearing. "Ma'am, we'll be delayed a bit. The protectee needs some food and water." He inspected the PowerBar then handed it over to Rodney.

"Who's that?" Rodney said, gesturing toward his ear. He opened the bar and started in on it, suddenly ravenous.

Sheppard hesitated then said, "Sam Carter. She's the team coordinator."

"Oh, that's just super. It's old home week." Rodney rubbed his face with his hands. "What are you doing here? Why didn't the police just send someone?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

Rodney heaved a sigh. "You know what I've been working on, then."

"Of course they know! I'm guessing Carter's been tracking your progress since day one."

Rodney felt his whole body flush with mortification. Of course they knew. Of course they'd been watching him like a particularly wayward child.

"I'm a scientist, damn it! I have every right to pursue whatever line of exploration I want. You have no jurisdiction here!"

"Whoa! Whoa." Sheppard held up his hands. "I'm not here to argue. I'm here to protect you and the work. That's all."

"That's all." Rodney peered at him, but Sheppard was especially hard to read, his expression giving nothing away. But Rodney knew John hated him. How could he not? "Fine. Let's go."

"We wait for Lorne. Lesson number one: no going anywhere without your roper, that's me, and your spotter, that's Evan. And if we need her, we take our shooter, that's Teyla."

"It really is old home week. Did everyone end up at the DoD with you?"

"Everyone who survived, yeah."

Rodney clamped his mouth shut. Lorne arrived a minute or so later and handed over a bottle of water that Sheppard inspected the seal on before giving to Rodney. Cracking it open, Rodney took grateful sips, soothing his dry throat, before nodding to John.

"Let's get this over with."

John looked approving. "All right. Here are the basics for now: stay close, let me enter any room before you do, and don't block my shooting arm. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Let's go." Sheppard waited until Rodney got up and then pulled him to his left side. "Stay right here, just behind me, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Okay. Ev?"

Lorne opened the door and looked out, then held it open for them. Rodney felt ridiculous going through all this rigamarole in his own building, but at the same time he hadn't quite recovered from encountering a bomb under his car, so being tucked under John's arm wasn't a terrible hardship.

At the same time, he couldn't help but feel Sheppard was only barely tolerating him. The idea made Rodney queasy, and he swayed a little.

"We'll get you some real food as soon as this meeting is over," Sheppard said.

"Great."

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Rodney started to move, but John held him back, letting Lorne go out first and waiting for his okay before following with Rodney just behind him. Rodney felt like a particularly dense cluster of atoms for needing a reminder so soon.

And then they were approaching Weir's office and almost everyone Rodney had no desire to see was there: Ronon Dex, Vala Mal Doran, and Teyla Emmagan. They all nodded when he arrived, but before they could say anything, John swept him into the office and he was facing Sam Carter and, god damn it, Jack O'Neill.

Silently cursing Sheppard, Rodney entered the room and offered a false smile to Carter.

"Good to see you, Sam. I take it you're here to congratulate me on not getting killed."

"Something like that," Sam said, looking amused. "How are you doing, Rodney?"

"Oh, my nerves are shot and I'm targeted by an assassin. How are you, Major?"

"I'm a DoD Officer, now. I'm doing fine, thanks for asking." Sam held up a sheaf of papers. "I need you to sign this accepting your protection detail."

"I assume you'll let me read it first." He took the papers and sat down in front of Weir's desk.

O'Neill made an annoyed sound but didn't say anything. Rodney was relieved, because he was close to blowing his stack, and didn't relish being punched in the mouth. They'd never gotten along fabulously and that was even before the Incident.

"It says here you're authorized to enter the job site premises whenever necessary to fulfill your duties. We can't allow that. This project is classified top secret!"

"All the officers working this detail are cleared," O'Neill said. "You're getting the best of the best to protect both you and your work here."

Rodney bit back a sharp reply. "I'm sure." He finished reading the document. It looked like some kind of standard protection form. He supposed he could get ornery and demand a lawyer, but then he'd be locked in his office for another day or so, and more than anything, he wanted to go home to his cat. He snapped his fingers for a pen, and one appeared in his hand. He looked up, surprised to see Sam giving him a sympathetic look. Frowning, he signed and dated on the line across from O'Neill's signature, then passed the form across the desk to Weir, who did the same.

"Well? Is that all?"

"We should discuss what happened this morning," Sheppard said, rising up from his lean against the wall. "Every detail will help."

Rodney waved his hand. "Just get my account off the police report."

Sheppard fixed him with a stare that could stymie a moose, so Rodney sighed and told him about the red LED blinking and discovering the bomb.

"So, the lights are usually off in the garage?" Sheppard asked, his eyes on his notebook.

"Oh, no. It's a cost saving measure. After work hours, the lights switch to motion detection. During the day, they're on all the time."

"Well, that explains it. Whoever placed the device didn't anticipate the glow of the LED being seen." John flipped his notebook shut.

"Yes. We've established whoever it is has a below average portion of brains."

Lorne shifted impatiently, and Sheppard said, "Let's try not to underestimate the person trying to kill you, all right? It does indicate the person is less likely to be inside the company."

"Yes, I agree," Sam said.

"Well, that's a relief," Weir put in. Obviously, she had only a single concern, and it wasn't Rodney's life.

"Small mercies," Rodney said sarcastically. "Can we go now? I'd like to go home and feed my cat. She must be losing her mind with worry."

"Yeah, I think we've accomplished all we can," O'Neill said, dry as winter.

Sheppard nodded and nudged Rodney into position. It was both strangely familiar and different from how he used to coax Rodney to go to lunch at Area 51 every day. Then, they were side by side, joking and bumping into each other as they walked through the long corridors.

Now, John kept him tucked closely and just behind him, and made no jokes. He didn't even look at Rodney; instead, he kept one hand on the butt of his gun and watched his team, who slunk around them like a pack of wolves, shifting in a random pattern only they understood.

It was eerie knowing they were there to protect Rodney after all this time. He hoped it meant they'd forgiven him.

After retrieving his coat and laptop from his office, Rodney asked for a few minutes to call Radek and give him the news. "He's affected by this too. In fact, we should consider protection for him as well."

"Ronon is already monitoring the office. If someone starts shadowing Radek, he'll know."

"Well, I'm going to tell him to be careful and you can't stop me."

"I hadn't planned to," John said, and stepped away to talk to Teyla.

Rodney went to one of the phone rooms and dialed up Radek.

"Prosím? It is too early. I was up late making love to my beautiful girlfriend."

"Yuck. I really didn't need to hear that after the morning I had."

"And what? You dropped your pastry?"

"Someone tried to kill me last night."

"Do prdele! No! How?"

"A bomb under my car. I saw it just in time." Even now, Rodney could hardly believe it.

"Děláš si ze mě prdel? A bomb? Is this not overkill? Why not just some lemon juice in your coffee?"

"Oh, thanks a lot!" Sweat popped out on Rodney's forehead. "Now I'll never drink coffee again."

"I'm sorry, my friend. Why would someone do this?"

"I don't know why. We just assume it's for my work."

"You ascribe too much importance to your achievements," Radek said. "Maybe it's just your terrible personality."

The joke fell a little flat, and they both remained silent for a moment before Radek said, "What will you do?"

"The Department of Defense has sent a protection detail. You will never believe who is on it."

"No. Oh, no." Radek disguised a laugh with a cough. "You must have angered the gods, my friend."

"It's not funny."

"Of course not. But it is a bit ridiculous."

"They all hate me. If you haven't been taking care of your sister, you probably would've have been working at Area 51, too, and you'd hate me as well."

"But I already hated you," Radek observed. "I have hated you for too many years to count."

"Gee, thanks."

"And I am a scientist foremost. I would collect the data before deciding. In that case, any one of us could have—"

"Eh! I'm so tired of hearing that. It didn't happen with anyone else. And now Sheppard looks at me like...I don't know. I can't read his expression."

"Perhaps you should ask him if he hates you."

Rodney wandered around the tiny room, swallowing back his nervousness. "Oh, no, I don't think so. No, I'm not going to be poking that particular bear."

"Instead you will depend on him to protect you when you don't know if he despises you or not?" Radek clucked his tongue.

"Yes. Yes, I think that's what I will do. In any event, I don't want you to be hurt on my account, so please check under your car before you get in. Or, better yet, take the bus. And look out for any assassins."

"Talking to you always cheers my day, Rodney. I want you to know that."

"See you tomorrow." Rodney hung up and left the little room.

"Ready to go?" Sheppard asked, his team lined up behind him like bowling pins.

Rodney rubbed his hands together. "Let's do it."

Failure

"You failed."

"I'll try again."

"See that you succeed this time, or I will send in someone who doesn't care about collateral damage."

"Don't worry. I'll succeed."

Run Boy Run

Rodney let John nudge him into position and followed him out of the elevator, conscious of Teyla just behind him.

"How are you?" he said to her. He wanted to ask her a million questions. Teyla might actually answer them.

But she pulled back. "I'm fine. But we mustn't make small talk in transit, Dr. McKay."

A moment later, John touched his arm, bringing him to a stop before the exit so they could wait for Lorne to check the street. Rodney sighed. This was going get tedious fast.

Eventually, they all piled out, moving in a swift swarm and closing together to get Rodney into the vehicle then dividing again with John in the backseat beside him and Lorne driving, Teyla riding shotgun.

"I need to get home," Rodney said. "Niclaws Copurrnicus probably thinks I've abandoned him."

"We have your cat at the safe house," Sheppard said.

"You kidnapped Purrnicus?"

"For his own safety. We don't know if the assassin plans to bomb your condo next."

"Oh my god." Rodney clutched his briefcase. "Is Purrnicus okay? He hates strangers."

"Jackson's good with animals. He's fine."

Rodney wasn't sure if Sheppard meant Purrnicus or Jackson. "And I need my things." His medication, he didn't say, but that was foremost on his mind.

"Jackson will have done a sweep, but if he missed anything, he'll go back." Sheppard clipped each word as if he had a finite amount he was allowed to speak per day.

It seemed to take an exorbitantly long time to reach this safe house Sheppard had spoken of. Once they arrived, the team did the usual rigamarole before Rodney was safely inside. He was pleasantly surprised at the size of the place; the government had apparently splurged a little.

"You're in the middle room. You have your own bathroom. No windows." Sheppard guided him and opened the door.

Purrnicus came charging toward him, talking the whole way. She had a whole lot to say, quite probably about how annoying it was to be manhandled by useless anthropologists.

"Did the gross man put his paws on you, sweetheart?" Rodney said, scooping her up. "We'll give you a nice washcloth bath later." He turned to Sheppard. "Where is her special food and her litter?"

Sheppard regarded him with an expression Rodney couldn't quite place. "The food is in the kitchen area. The litter is in the laundry room."

"Terrific. Now go away. We need to bond."

Consulting his watch, Sheppard said, "Food will be ready in twenty. Confab is in an hour." Then he backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving Rodney in peace at last.

Rodney buried his face in Purrnicus' soft, dense fur and sighed.

John closed the door and leaned his head for head against it for just a moment. He needed a second to wrap his head around everything that had happened in the last few days, from hearing about his new assignment, to seeing Rodney on the screen, to realizing he'd almost lost him to a bomb. And then, finally being with Rodney again in person was even harder than John anticipated. This assignment was going to be a killer.

But there were tasks he needed to be complete, so he straightened up, tugged down his jacket, and went back to the com room where Ronon had all the monitors set up.

"All good?" John asked, and Ronon nodded, his mouth stuffed with a banana. "Where'd you get that? You know we're getting real food in, right?"

Ronon swallowed quickly then said, "Daniel loaded us up with healthy snacks." He smiled fondly.

"Well, don't ruin your appetite."

Ronon spun back to his screens. "We've got a three-sixty view and a detection grid laid out. Teal'c stopped by to give me the background on the Prometheus staff. It's loaded up on the group drive."

"Great. Anything pop out?"

"Not yet. McKay's closest coworker is a Czech citizen here on work visa. He appears to be squeaky clean; came out with his sister for her medical treatment, stayed when McKay offered him a job."

"What about Weir?"

"A little more complicated. Teal'c volunteered to do a deep dive."

"Awesome." Teal'c had an amazing capacity for digging at the truth. "What else on physical systems?"

"We're definitely closing the back doors. McKay will probably squawk."

"He shouldn't leave holes in his security." John felt someone come in and turned. It was Carter, and she jerked her head. John nodded, saying "Get me the feeds to my phone, would you?"

"Already doing it."

"Thanks." John followed Carter out as she led him to one of the empty rooms. She crossed her arms and leaned against a desk, so John mirrored her, leaning against the wall.

"So, how is he?" Sam asked.

John shrugged. "Scared but hiding it. The cat was a good call; thank Daniel for me. I completely forgot about it."

"That's why we've got him." Sam smiled briefly. "Rodney's on antidepressants. I'm only telling you. You're his primary and you'll need to make sure he continues taking them despite being stressed. He's also hypoglycemic, which means regular meals, and of course you know about his citrus allergy."

John nodded along with each point.

"I talked to Daniel," she continued, "And none of the food we're bringing in will contain citrus."

"Except maybe Ronon's pineapple pizza."

Sam smirked. "Pineapple doesn't contain citrus."

"Ronon will be relieved."

Sam bit the corner of her lip. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine."

She glared at him mildly.

"Okay, maybe not so fine. But there's nothing to do about that. So I'm dealing," John said, his hands tightening into fists.

Sam looked him over, and John wondered if she had some way of measuring how close he was to blowing, because he was familiar with the assessment. He tried to relax, and after a bit, she nodded slowly.

"What about the rest of the team?"

"They're being professional. We'll see what happens at the meeting."

John's radio clicked, and Vala said brightly, "Food's ready!"

Sam grinned at John's expression. "Yeah, my stomach's about to eat itself."

"Let's reconnect after the meeting, then."

"Sounds good to me."

Dinner was strained. Rodney was tempted to grab a few dishes and retire to his room and cuddle with Copurrnicus Furrface, but Sheppard gave him a look when he hovered too long in the doorway, and that was that.

The food was good, at least. Rodney ate quickly, certain the peace wouldn't hold. Sure enough, after a few bites, O'Neill put down his fork and said, "So, long time no see, eh, McKay?"

"True," Rodney said calmly. "And how have you been, Col—?" Rodney winced and stuffed some more chana masala in his mouth to cover his mistake.

"Oh, fine, fine. Not a Colonel anymore, but you know that."

"Sir..." Sam said.

"It's good work though, protecting people. Getting to the bottom of murderous conspiracies. Remarkable, what people get up to when they're unsupervised."

O'Neill jumped a little, and Rodney was positive someone had kicked him under the table. Sam, or possibly even Sheppard, who was sitting catty corner staring at his plate.

"I'm sure," Rodney said, and imagined throwing his naan at O'Neill like a frisbee.

Jackson cleared his throat and said beside him, "How've you been, Rodney?"

Ronon nodded in his direction, and Rodney couldn't contain his surprise.

"All right, I guess. How about you?"

"Good. Oh, I guess we should mention: Ronon and I got married last year."

Rodney choked on his water before getting out, "Congratulations. That's great."

"Yeah, it is!" Ronon reached around Daniel's shoulder and shook him affectionately. "He took some convincing, but I'm persistent."

Rodney offered a smile. "I'll have to get you a wedding present."

"We're registered at Microcenter Computers," Daniel said wryly, casting a fond look at Ronon, who grabbed him for a kiss.

"Not at the table, thanks," O'Neill said. "You don't see me slobbering all over Sam, do ya?"

Rodney raised his eyebrows. "Are you two married?"

"Not yet," Sam said, smiling.

"She's waiting for me to grow up first," O'Neill said, pouting.

"Go on." She punched him in the shoulder. He clutched it, miming massive pain. "Infant," she said, laughing.

"See?" O'Neill shrugged.

Rodney shook his head and happened to look at Sheppard at the far edge of the table. John was looking right back at him, a grim expression on his face, which went blank the moment he caught Rodney's eye.

Of course, it couldn't be this easy. Funny quips back and forth at the dinner table, his friends starting to accept him once again. John couldn't, wouldn't be that easy.

Rodney stared down and ate his curry, appetite gone.

"Is there more naan?" Vala asked, reaching toward the basket, and Rodney passed it over.

John helped Ronon and Daniel clear away the dishes, happy to get away for a second. As he rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher, he caught Ronon pulling Daniel in for a hug and turned his head away, once again tamping down his envy.

He'd had that. For a few, brief weeks, he'd thought—but no. Rodney disappeared and left him alone during the worst period of their lives.

John slammed the door of the washer a little too hard, and Ronon was there, a hand on his shoulder.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. This thing has strong springs."

"Uh-huh." Ronon shook John a little. "Gotta watch that."

"Yup." Drying his hands on the dishcloth, John raised his head. "Well, let's go see what's up."

They went back into the dining room, where the table, now cleared of food, had been laid out with a folder at each setting. John would bet that was Vala's doing. Rodney already had his open and was deep in reading. John took the empty seat next to him this time, making Daniel raise his eyebrows.

Ignoring him, John picked up the folder and started reading. The classified stuff he was already aware of. The work Rodney was doing on a new power source could revolutionize the industry, and in fact would destabilize the economy if the release of the technology weren't handled right. It certain did make sense that he'd be a target based on the intel. But something niggled at the back of John's mind, and nothing in the folder scratched that itch.

"So, are we all up on the reading?" Jack said. "There'll be a pop quiz after."

"Sam always messes up the curve," Vala complained.

"She sure did in the Academy," John said.

"Ever since kindergarten, actually," Sam said agreeably.

"Ahem," Rodney said. "Could we please discuss the fact someone's trying to kill me? Or would you rather go over Sam's SAT scores next?"

"1600s for sure," Jack cracked, and Rodney scowled.

"There's nothing substantial in here," he said, tossing his folder on the table.

"Actually, there's a lot," Sam said. "The device was made from cheap, disposable items: a burner phone purchased with cash, a small, sixty-gram wad of home-made explosives planted directly beneath the lithium-ion battery. We believe the bomber was relying on the secondary explosion of the battery and the gasoline to do the more significant damage. Because the bomb failed to explode, we managed to extract some information. Right now, we're tracking down the purchase of the cell phone based on the serial number, and components of the explosive. We're making a list of explosive experts in the area—"

"Please. There must be thousands. There are at least four in this room right here!"

"And that's why we're going through every piece of evidence very carefully, and why we've brought you to the safe house," Sam said.

"How long will I have to stay here?" Rodney gave John a nervous look. "I have important work to do."

"We won't interfere with your work," John assured him. "I'll need a small amount of your time to go over basics in security, and then we'll leave you alone to work."

"Basics...what basics?"

John shrugged. "Just the rules on how to stay safe."

"Rules. Terrific."

"And you and I need to talk about the network security for Prometheus," Ronon said. "I'm making some changes."

"Oh, you are, are you? Now listen here—that network is like a lock box. I worked on it myself a while back; made sure it was tight as a drum."

"Yeah, well that must've been a while back, because whoever took over has left a bunch of vulnerabilities unpatched and hasn't even bothered to close up the back door you left behind." Ronon leaned back and stuck a toothpick in his mouth.

"That is a—how did you find out about that? It's a tiny little invisible hole, one IP wide, and I need it to work from home."

"Get a dedicated line. I'm closing it down."

"You son of a gun," Rodney said, almost admiring.

"I'll set up a meeting tomorrow to discuss details."

John cleared his throat. "And I'm after that."

Rodney waved his hand. "Fine, fine. Is that all?"

"No, that's not all," Jack said. "Can we talk about the pink elephant in the room?"

"Jack, no," Sam said, putting a hand up when the others stirred. John couldn't move as Rodney's face flushed a deep red.

"Oh, here it is. Here it is. Do you think I don't know what you're thinking? With all this nice talk. How have you been, Rodney? Oh, you mean since I irradiated all of my colleagues? Fine, just fine. But we still don't have any answers. I didn't have them then and I still don't know. I've been over the data a thousand times, and there simply was no reason for that overload."

"We know, Rodney. I went over the data myself. Jack is just being a dick," Sam said.

John put his hand on Rodney's arm and squeezed, and Rodney turned to him.

"You blame me too, don't you?"

"No." John swallowed. "I believe you when you say you don't know what happened."

Rodney co*cked his head distrustfully.

John was about to say something, he wasn't sure what, when one of Ronon's proximity alerts went off. Jumping up from his chair, John took Rodney by the arm.

"Let's go."

"Wh-where are we going? What about Purrnicus?" Rodney stumbled to his feet and followed.

"See, this was what I was going to cover in my little talk tomorrow." And with that, John tucked Rodney just to his side and motioned to Evan. Together, they headed downstairs to the garage and their bulletproof caravan.

John had no idea how they'd been tracked down so quickly, but he'd be damned if Rodney paid for their mistake.

Rodney sat in the back seat with John, waiting impatiently in the garage, for what, he had no idea.

"Are we going to drive off any time soon?" he asked. "I'd rather not die in the garage. So terrible for the obituary."

"You're not going to die," Sheppard said, sounding quite irritated. "We're doing a sweep to see how they tracked you." He added under his breath, "I already wanded you, so you're clear."

"You did what?" Rodney squeaked.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "I ran the wand over you. You're clean."

"When on Earth did you...do that?"

"When you were getting into the SUV. Quiet a sec." John held his hand up to his ear, then shared a look with Lorne in the rear-view mirror. "In the medication? Well someone better spank Daniel, if it isn't me."

"I can't hear anything," Rodney complained, and Sheppard did something to the unit at his waist.

"…hidden in the desiccant packet in the bottle of pills. It wasn't Daniel's fault," Ronon said.

"Uh-huh." John looked fit to kill. "Has the target moved?"

"Not yet. Maybe they're waiting for us to fall asleep or something stupid like that."

"Is everyone ready to mobilize?"

"Yeah, we're ready to go. "

"All right then. Tell Val to deploy the decoy vehicle now. "

Rodney grabbed John's arm. "What about Purrnicus?"

"The cat is with Daniel in the second extraction vehicle." John spoke into his mic. "Exfil to vehicles, all team."

"You need to get me a radio," Rodney grumbled, and John unzipped a case by his side and handed Rodney a radio and an earpiece.

"We're on channel 29, fallback to channel 36 if we are compromised."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

John raised his eyebrows. "That's my job. Listen." He touched Rodney's sleeve. "They broke the first safe house a little too fast. We're moving to the secondary, but I want you to be hyper aware of any strange communications coming in."

"Why are they after me?" Rodney despaired. "This technology is a good thing! It could save hundreds of thousands—no, millions of lives!"

"It could also ruin the monopoly of power companies that have been entertaining ridiculous profits over the past couple of centuries," Ronon cut in.

"Yeah, okay. You have a point." Rodney fumbled with the radio until John showed him how to hook it to his ear and secure it to his belt. He snapped it on and immediately heard more back chatter from Vala.

"They're following me, about one klick back. I'm heading for downtown, such as it is."

"Hey! Boulder's a great town."

"Oh, yes, what a night life," Vala said. "I'll lose them in the rental space then kill the bug as planned."

Rodney cursed and turned off his mic. "I'm never going to get any work done," he said. "Where are we going next?"

"An undisclosed location," John said, f*cking with him, from the turn of his lips.

"Well, great, can we get moving?"

"Now that the threat is cleared." He tapped his radio. "All team, move out!"

The garage door opened and the SUV in front of them moved. Now that they were outside, Rodney could faintly see Copurrnicus' carrier in the back through the tinted glass.

Rodney sighed at what a travesty his life had become. Especially when they only went four blocks or so before pulling into an almost identical driveway.

"Does the government own this entire community?"

"Something like that," John said. The others piled out first and, once again, John and Rodney waited in the vehicle with Evan at the wheel.

"I'm going to get sick of this car, I can tell."

"You get used to it."

They sat in awkward silence. Rodney desperately wanted to ask John if he really believed it wasn't Rodney's fault. But if he did, why was he acting like this was just a job; like Rodney was just a package to be handed around?

After what seemed like eternity, John hustled him into the new safe house, which really was almost identical to the old one. John passed Rodney his medication, and Rodney settled into his room with Purrnicus, who re-marked all the corners as his and then found the precise center of the bed for a nap.

A nap sounded swell after the hell Rodney had been through for the past twenty-four hours, so he took his meds then curled around Purrnicus without dislodging him and went out like a light.

"I'm sorry! What can I do but say I'm sorry," Daniel said, waving his hands with a loaf of bread in one hand and a knife in the other. "Give me demerits or whatever."

Since he was making them all toasted peanut butter sandwiches with fresh sourdough, John gave him a break. "Just wand everything next time, don't just look inside, 'k?"

"Sir, yessir." Daniel went back to toast making, and Ronon rubbed his back in sympathy.

"Sheesh," John said under his breath. "Where are we on monitors, Ro?"

"All back up. All clear. I had to go with the cheaper motion detectors this round—I've tasked Bates with collecting the others and bringing them back to HQ."

"Does cheaper mean crappy? I don't like the sound of that."

"No, it just means I had to lay out more to get the same coverage. I don't know why we bother to buy them."

"Oh, that's just to make you do more work," John slapped Ronon's shoulder.

"Well, it worked. Took me another half hour to finish the grid."

"I wondered why it took so long. I appreciate the effort." John accepted his peanut butter and jam toast from Daniel and took a happy bite. No one made afternoon snacks like Daniel. "Where's Evan? He's missing out."

"Said he had to relieve Teyla on perimeter."

"Then I wonder where Teyla is. She should get in on this." John tapped his radio. "Teyla? Where are you? Daniel's made toast, and you missed lunch."

"I found a squirrel and I'm making friends."

"You what, now?"

Teyla sighed into her mic. "I have found a squirrel and I'm trading it nuts for pinecones. It's very amusing."

"Well, um. Come in at some point and eat something, would you?"

"Yes, John," she replied, her tone indulgent.

John shook his head. Sometimes taking care of his crew felt like looking after a circus troupe. Of course, now that Rodney was in the group, John was less like a ringmaster and more like a lion tamer. He could tell it was only a matter of time before Rodney blew his cork over all the restrictions on his movements and limitations on his work.

And when that happened, watch out.

Did you send in another player?

No. We are waiting on your move.

Then we have a problem. Someone else put a tracer on him. They have mobilized to a secondary location. This will make things more difficult.

We don't care about difficulty. This is disastrous. He must be eliminated before he can be captured and used for his knowledge.

Understood.

Bat Out of Hell

McKay came flying out of his room the next morning like a bat out of his cave.

"Sheppard. I need to get back to work."

"Good morning, sunshine," John said, offering him a cup of coffee.

"Don't think you can appease me with…oh my God, is this Yirgacheffe?" Rodney downed half the cup. "What kind of ridiculous budget do you people have?"

"I paid for that myself. Muffin?"

Rodney took the proffered muffin with a greedy look and sat down to start eating it. He kept talking between bites. "I'm not kidding. I need to get back into the office right away. I've had enough of your cloak and dagger shenanigans."

John shook his head. "You're just going to ignore the fact someone's tried to kill you? Twice?"

"Nothing happened yesterday. You successfully prevented it. And nothing's going to happen in an office building in the middle of a work day."

Leaning against the counter, John grabbed hold to hang onto his temper. "And you know this, how?"

"It's common sense," McKay said airily, finishing off his muffin and reaching for another from the basket. "These are fantastic; where did you get them?"

"Daniel made them." John thought furiously. "We could feasibly accompany you to the office depending on how far Ronon has gotten on the security there."

"Oh, God. If he's messed up my network..."

"I fixed your network, you mean," Ronon said, strolling into the kitchen. Today he was wearing a plaid vest under a corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows. John shook his head and went back to sipping his coffee.

"If by fixed it you mean made it so secure I won't be able to work at all, thanks a lot," Rodney grumbled.

"Protocol is the price you pay for staying alive," John said pointedly.

Rodney scowled and stood up. "I knew you didn't believe me," he said, and walked away with his shoulders hunched.

"What…just happened?" John said, staring after him.

Ronon chuckled. "Man, you're kind of clueless. I thought you were the roper."

John started clearing the table. "I am the roper. I'm a good roper, damn it."

"Not today." Ronon popped almost an entire muffin in his mouth and strode out.

"I am seriously off my game." John found himself wishing Sam hadn't gone back to HQ with Jack, but that was ridiculous. He could do this. He just had to remember Rodney was a completely different species.

Like a Tasmanian devil. Or a platypus.

John knocked on his door just as Rodney was zipping up his laptop case.

"Before we go into the office," Sheppard said, licking his lower lip, "we need to go over the...plan of action."

"You were going to say 'protocol,' weren't you?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, the movement opening his jacket and revealing his shoulder holster and the black, silken lining of his jacket matching his shirt. Rodney willed his eyes to move back to John's face and not the lean lines of his torso.

"I need to explain how this works. Up until now, we haven't had a moment to go over our methods."

"Very well." Rodney sat down and tried to look attentive while John droned on. Rodney could do that and work out his latest simulation plan for testing the tensile strength of the material he was considering for the Power Containment Module.

"Hey. Eyes right here with me," Sheppard said.

"Yes, yes. What?"

"Repeat what I just said."

"That your job as bodyguard's isn't to get into fights or draw your gun. If you fight you've failed. If you have to draw your weapon, you've failed."

"That's right," Sheppard said, sounding surprised. Rodney grinned, smug. "My job is to cover you, to evacuate you, and get you out of harm's way. I can't do that unless you're alert too, and ready to follow my lead. That means no drifting off into la-la-land when we're in transit."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I am capable of multi-tasking." This was all so pointless.

"I'm sure. But recalling what just happened isn't the same as reacting as it happens."

Rodney ceded the point with a nod, and this time Sheppard got to be smug.

"Point two: the number one way bad elements enter a secure area is by social engineering within the trusted group. That means security starts with your colleagues. They have to be made aware of the heightened security risk so they can be on their guard."

"Are you joking?" Rodney scoffed. "They'll be on the lookout, all right—to hand me over to the assassin!"

Sheppard frowned. "Are you serious?"

"No. Yes! I don't know." Rodney shrugged uncomfortably. "Except for Radek, they don't like me much, but then, I don't coddle them a lot."

"We don't need to tell them who the target is, merely that there's a threat, and they need to be careful of phishing or social engineering attacks seeking an entrée into the building. Someone calling pretending to be a vendor, et cetera."

"Oh. All right; I'll have HR do a training session."

"Good. I'll have Daniel send them a packet of materials. Next: we need you to inform me directly where you need to go and when at all times. Keeping your schedule anywhere on a network will no longer be accepted."

"But your Ronon just secured our network." Rodney clutched his phone. "I have zero ability to keep track of my schedule without my calendar."

"I'll keep track of it for you." Sheppard held up a paper notebook.

"Are you serious?"

"Paper is the most secure medium on the planet," he said grimly.

"You mean, next to your brain."

John shook his head regretfully.

"Oh, no. Oh, no-no-no."

"The only known telepath in existence has very strict standards and would never knowingly breach someone else's mind without permission," John said, but Rodney was already nosediving into paranoia.

"Who? Who is it? Oh, God. My ideas!"

"No one is going to steal your ideas. Stop spinning out. They aren't interested in science."

"Are they on my protection team?"

"No," John said firmly. "This person isn't on any of the protection details. Believe me, your mind is safe. And I'm trying to keep your body safe, so can we finish?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Next." Sheppard raised a calloused finger. "Hopefully self-evident. No posting pictures of yourself on social media. No posting any location-related posts on social media. No accounts of lunches at L’artusi or whatever."

"More likely the Nanotech Expo at Bern, but I take your point. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Lorne or I walk through every door first. I let you know if it's safe. If someone knocks, if the doorbell rings, I answer it. If the mail comes, I check it. If food arrives and you or I haven't ordered it, don't eat it."

"This all seems pretty elementary."

Sheppard raised one eyebrow. "But you'd be surprised how easy it is for habit to take over. So think about it for a second. Don't answer the door. Don't open the mail. Don't put it in your mouth—"

Rodney cracked a smile.

Sheppard's mouth quirked. "—unless you're sure."

"Got it. What else?"

"Stand up."

Rodney hesitated. Sheppard held out a hand, and Rodney rose and took it, letting Sheppard steer him to the center of the room facing his door. Then Sheppard stood in front of him to his right and looked back over his shoulder.

"Okay, you should be used to this by now; I've yanked you into this position enough times. Sorry about that. But you always follow me this close and in this position. If I detect a threat, I'll reach back and tuck you under my left arm like this." Sheppard illustrated, pulling Rodney in tight under his left arm while simultaneously drawing his weapon from his holster and holding it down beside his right leg. Rodney felt cocooned in the black suit and the sudden warmth of Sheppard's torso, and he was suddenly awash in sense memory. Why did the man have to smell so good?

Sheppard continued, "I'll always have an extraction plan. So, just let me pull you with me, and I'll guide you out. You'll be wearing a vest, and with me covering you and my gun in front, you'll be safe as houses, all right?"

Rodney cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay." He kind of wanted to stay here forever, truth be told, but when Sheppard released him, he pulled way. "The vest?"

"We just got you a lightweight one in your size. I'll bring it to you and you can put it on under your shirt. Please don't leave the house without it on. It's actually kind of comfortable once you get used to it."

"If you say so."

"I'll bring it now. Any other questions?"

"How long is this going to take?"

"I'm going to be honest, Rodney—" and whoa, points to Sheppard for using his first name, because that, paired with looking directly into his eyes, was making Rodney's heart beat faster. "—this one is making me a little worried. I don't like that they moved in so soon on the first safe house. I don't like this is already the second attempt in three days. I'd love to take you and your cat and move you to an undisclosed location in the Appalachians but—" he shushed Rodney's burgeoning protest, "—I know you have work to do and I have to let you do it. So we'll find these guys and let you get back to your life." John turned his head, and for a second Rodney thought he saw something that simply couldn't be there.

But right now, Rodney supposed there were more important things to worry about.

"Okay. I'll be as patient as I can be. But so far I'm frustrated beyond belief. I need to get back to work."

"All right. Let me get your vest and we'll go."

Sheppard disappeared, and Rodney went over to say goodbye to Purrnicus, who'd just dropped a stink bomb in his litter.

"Nice," Rodney said as he bent over to cover it more fully. "Thanks for the present, fur-face."

At least someone cared about him.

The Boys Are Back

"Okay, I'm here," Jack said, throwing himself into the conference room chair between Sam and Daniel. "Why am I here?" he added, because he was irritated beyond belief. He hated coming down to the FBI. It was stuffy and their entryway X-Ray machine f*cked with his vision, weirdly enough.

"The FBI wants to discuss jurisdiction around the recent assassination attempts," Daniel said sourly.

Caldwell, an old brother-in-arms but now an SSA with the FBI, placed both hands on the conference table around a thick folder. Jack gave it a cursory scan and saw surveillance photos of McKay and his team, and scowled.

"The FBI thinks it's time you handed this case over," Caldwell said, sounding like a third grade teacher after a schoolyard fight.

"Oh, really?" Jack leaned back and twirled the pen they'd provided. "And what if I say, 'No way'?"

Caldwell blew out a frustrated breath, and Sam gave Jack an admonishing look.

"What? Even if the attempts crossed state lines—which they didn't—we still have jurisdiction twice over."

"Attempts," Caldwell stressed. "Plural. Twice in as many days. Doesn't say a lot for your operational security, O'Neill."

"Oh, please," Daniel cut in. "The first attempt occurred before we were on-site. The second occurred within four hours of having the Protectee under wraps. Obviously, someone very smart and very determined is after him. He is now secure, and we'll keep him that way."

"If he'll let you," Caldwell said.

"What does that mean?" Sam sounded close to biting Caldwell's head off. Jack wouldn't mind watching.

"It means, McKay is somewhat of a loose cannon, isn't he?"

"Maybe so, but he's our cannon," Jack said, smiling. "That's how we like 'em."

Caldwell snorted. "Isn't he the one who caused the incident at Area 51?"

"Unlikely," Sam said through her teeth. "I've been over the data. There is no internal explanation for that explosion."

"Meaning?" Caldwell said impatiently.

"It wasn't McKay's fault," Jack said. "So lay off. He's ours, and we're protecting him."

Caldwell raised his hands. "All right. But let me know if you need any back-up."

"Sure, sure," Jack said, standing and signaling the others. "Will do."

In a pig's eye.

"You tell me your life is at risk and then disappear without calling me?" Radek tsked at Rodney the second he walked in. "You are a terrible friend."

"I'm sorry! I didn't have a lot of freedom, mostly thanks to this guy." Rodney pointed at his nemesis. "Officer John Sheppard, meet Dr. Radek Zelenka, PhD."

"You are a police officer?" Radek said, offering his hand.

Sheppard shook his head. "Department of Defense, Protective Services Division."

"Ah. Who did Rodney piss off this time?"

"Everyone, apparently," Rodney said, sitting down and putting his laptop bag on the desk. "And now, if I could please have some peace and quiet? I've lost days and I'm already behind on schedule."

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Zelenka. McKay, I'll be just outside. Remember, no—"

"—Going anywhere without you. I got it, thanks."

Sheppard nodded and left.

"So? Who is trying to kill you?"

"I think someone has reservations about the Power Containment Module."

Radek looked aghast. "But you showed me part of your equation! I might be in danger too!"

"Shh!" Rodney eyed the glass door, but Sheppard didn't budge. "That's only a small part of the whole. And I'm not sharing any more with you until we straighten this out."

"Well, you might know I am ignorant, but what about these doodlebugs who are trying to kill you?"

Rodney bit his lip. "I think the word you're looking for is 'hoodlums.'"

Radek waved his hand. "Doodlehums, hoodlums—they have bombs and guns! They might not discriminate!"

"Do you want a protective detail? It's really not as fun as it looks."

"No, no. They would ruin my fun with Ruslana. And we are just getting to the exploratory bits."

Rodney held up a hand. "No need to share." He unzip his laptop bag and set his computer on the table. "Did I miss any good gossip?"

"Dana says Peter has been having secret phone calls with a new beau."

"What else is new?" Rodney logged into the network and started making the changes to his simulation. "He has a new boyfriend every week."

"Do not shame Peter for his slu*ttiness. He has the most exciting sex life of any of us."

"That's really not saying a lot."

"No, I suppose it isn't," Radek said ruefully. "But one can dream. One can aspire."

"You do that. Some of us have serious work to do."

"Ah, yes." Radek leaned his cheek on his palm and clicked his mouse. "Very serious, hoping a Nobel will ease the gaping hole in your heart."

"Dramatic enough?" Rodney rolled his eyes. "You'd better not be going through old photos of Paulina Pořízková."

Radek sighed. "We were so close when we were young, before she was corrupted by the Western fashion industry. We could have been so happy."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure she was quite miserable being slapped on the cover of Sports Illustrated and every fashion magazine from here to Siberia."

"She was not as popular in the Soviet Union, being from a family of dissidents," Radek said proudly.

"And I'm sure being married to a rock star is terrible for her."

"Why do you always rub this in?" Radek scowled and started typing.

Satisfied he'd put a halt to any conversation, Rodney worked on his simulation until he realized he was still missing a crucial materials library. He searched lethargically for it online, but knew it was a lost cause. He'd have to go to the UC Boulder physics library, and he wasn't looking forward to the fuss.

"I need to go to UCB. Do you need anything?"

"There was a lecture series on speed limits and locality in many-body quantum dynamics. It should be on disk by now. Can you check for me?"

"Of course. Who was the presenter?"

"Aaron Shaw."

"All right." Rodney turned on his radio. "Sheppard. I need to go to the University of Boulder physics library to collect some digital information for my work. Can you please arrange it?"

"What, right now?"

"Yes, of course."

Sheppard sighed like it was an unreasonable request. "What floor?"

"First floor of the math building."

"Does it have a metal detector?"

"What? God, no." Spare him American paranoia.

"Give me a few minutes to coordinate." Sheppard clicked off, and after Rodney gathered his things together and secured his laptop, he got bored and clicked over to the group channel.

"...only about a five minute drive, but the logistics are a nightmare. At this time of day, there will be around a thousand students hanging around the area, and the mathematics building doesn't have a metal detector."

Ronon said, "Not only that, I've got images and the first floor of the building is a glass house."

"Oh, you are f*cking kidding me."

"So, how are we gonna swing this?"

"We'll keep Evan on perimeter this time. We're not doing any sniping in these crowds. We'll plant Vala in the square and she'll sneak up on anyone Ev calls out. Teyla will be my backup in the building. Hopefully, we can be in and out without incident. Solid?"

"Solid," they all chimed in.

"Ronon, plot us a route to the university that will shake any tails. Ev, you're going in with Vala and I want you on the 360 cam."

"Copy that."

"Teyla, you're with me and the protectee. We roll out in five. Sheppard out."

Rodney leaned his head back on his office chair and listened to Radek type. He was surprised and grateful for the attention to his safety; at the same time, he was annoyed beyond belief at having his work interrupted and put off yet again. At this rate, he would never finish his first proof of concept. Or at least, not before someone else caught wind of his idea and stole it for themselves.

Bubbling with frustration, Rodney was ready when Sheppard typed in the door code and entered the lab.

"We're good to go, McKay."

"Took you long enough. I am trying to make the discovery of the millennium, here."

"Oh, really." Sheppard put his hands on his hips. "I'm just trying to keep you alive. Sorry about that."

"Whatever," Rodney said. "Let's go."

"Uh-huh." Sheppard turned slightly and nodded politely at Radek. "Dr. Zelenka. Have a good afternoon."

"Ano. You, too."

"Come on, McKay. Discoveries await."

Rodney growled under his breath and followed Sheppard at the correct distance out the door.

"Your little power plays are completely unnecessary," Rodney said later, seated behind Teyla, who was driving the SUV. "I'm a grown man, and don't appreciate being treated like a toddler. "

"I'm treating you like a protectee," Sheppard said with forced patience.

"So—like a toddler in bubble wrap."

"Take it how you want." Sheppard looked out the right side window and proceeded to ignore Rodney's existence. Staring at John's profile, Rodney's hurt felt ancient but still throbbed like a new wound.

The campus wasn't far, but it seemed to take them three times as long to get there. After a while, Rodney realized the cars were taking a circuitous route, diving through traffic, and then suddenly ducking into an alleyway and pulling into a garage.

"What is this place?"

"Clearance. We do a quick check in on whether we've shaken our tails."

Ronon came in on the radio. "Evan says it looks like we lost them back on Aurora. But since McKay goes to the library a lot, we should give it a few more minutes."

"All right, let's do a weapons check."

John and Teyla got busy pulling their side arms and fiddling with them. Rodney would categorically deny watching John hands smoothly handling his weapon, or his body twisting as he slid it snugly back into its holster. There were better things to pay attention to, such as the rusty drum of dirty rags outside his window. Fascinating, the way rust grew like a living organism.

"All right, let's roll out. Everyone, stay sharp," John said.

Teyla started up the vehicle and they followed the other black SUV out of the garage.

"At this rate, I'll earn my Nobel at the advanced age of 90. Just in time to drop dead of the excitement of it all."

Sheppard's reply was sharp. "Be glad you live long enough to win one."

"Cute." Rodney plotted revenge at John's pointy left ear.

When they arrived at the University, Teyla boldly parked them in the handicapped zone in front of the library. Rodney was about to protest but as soon as they exited the car, Lorne stepped in and drove it away.

"All right. Where in the library are we headed to?"

"I'll have to use the research computer and then pull the data disks from the stacks and take them to the reading room." Rodney spoke low as they'd already entered the library proper, and getting kicked out of his favorite library was not in his plans. "Just follow me."

"No," Sheppard said, tugging on Rodney's arm. "You know that's not how it works."

"How is anyone going to know where I'm going?"

"Just trust in the protocol, McKay," Sheppard hissed, keeping his voice low as well. He pointed to the laminated map on the wall. "Tell me where."

Rodney sighed. "First here. Then there. Then right there."

"Great. Let's go."

Although doubting Sheppard could navigate the maze of the library so easily at just a glance, Rodney followed him trustingly, and was surprised when he halted at the row of computers by the stacks. Sheppard turned and then jerked his head at Teyla, who started roaming around pretending to be a student. A gorgeous, heavily-armed student dressed in a bespoke Italian suit.

Rodney shook his head and settled himself at the catalog computer. It took him only a matter of moments to find the material references disk he required.

"I'm going to T3-163-D1. Care to join me?"

Sheppard stopped with his casual leaning and said, "Which way?"

"D1 digital stacks are over there. T3 will be self-evident."

Pressing his lips together, Sheppard turned and started moving. Rodney followed, feeling like an idiot as various students turned to watch their pantomime. Granted, Sheppard didn't dawdle, and located the correct stack relatively quickly, but Rodney still felt like he was on display. He quickly grabbed the cartridge, checking the disks were contained within, and pointed silently toward the reading room.

As soon as they reached the glass-paned wooden door, Rodney pushed him back a little. "Sorry. Only legitimate researchers have this code." Before Sheppard could protest, Rodney typed in the code and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

"McKay, open this damned door," Sheppard said, sounding beyond furious.

"I'm right here where you can see me," Rodney said, fairly grinning with delight. "I just need a little time without a shadow."

"Let me in right now," Sheppard grated into the radio as he glared through the glass. "There are people in the room."

"Other researchers! You have to have the code to get in." Rodney unslung his briefcase and set it on a table next to the disks. It would take only a matter of minutes to transfer the materials database to his laptop.

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled in his ear, and Rodney felt a shadow fall over him. He turned to face a tall man with a very full beard.

"Code red, code red," Sheppard said in the comm, rattling at the door.

"I am a little busy," Teyla said, and Rodney heard a muffled grunt.

"Dr. McKay? My name is Trond. I've so wanted to meet you. I'm a great admirer of your research." The guy, Trond, was very, very tall and imposing.

"I am bringing the car around," Vala said. "Setting up exit strategy," Evan said.

"Oh, is that so?" Rodney said weakly, pawing for his computer and trying to back away.

"Oh, yes!" Trond put a large hand on Rodney's arm and started dragging him toward the rear exit of the reading room. "Please, come with me. I have so much to show you. I've made advancements in exotic particles as advancing human morphology—"

Rodney scrambled with his feet on the floor but all he managed to do was scuff them along like Scooby-Doo. "No, no, that's quite all right." Then another guy Rodney hadn't even noticed, Jesus, Rodney thought he was just a student, but here he was taking Rodney's other arm and helping Trond hustle him toward the exit, the one that led directly to the back door of the library.

They were kidnapping him.

Rodney looked frantically over his shoulder for Sheppard and saw he was running toward the wooden door at an inhuman speed. An instant later he crashed through it like a battering ram and took out the smaller guy.

Rodney tried to pull away from Trond but he was too strong.

"Sheppard!" Rodney called, but John was already pulling his weapon with a look that could only be called deadly.

Except then Trond casually shot Sheppard—bang! Bang! Bang! And John went back down hard.

"No! You-you piece of excrement!" Rodney grappled with Trond until he found a bare piece of skin, and then he—

—reached inside—

—and found Trond's heart.

And then Rodney squeezed. Just a little.

Trond gasped and fell to his knees, dropping the gun and clutching his chest.

"Anyone! Help!" Rodney called.

"I'm on my way, Rodney," Teyla said. "Stay calm."

All these people, all this back-up, and John still got shot. Rodney made his way over to him, terrified at what he would find.

But John was moving, trying to get up and only getting as far as his elbows.

"Stop it, you moron. You've been shot." Rodney tried to push him back down, but that made John groan.

"Help me sit up. Can't breathe."

"Oh. Oh, right." Rodney helped John lean up against a chair.

"Stay right where you are," Teyla said, her voice cold as ice, and Rodney realized he'd lost track of Trond and the other guy in his concern over John. But Teyla had it covered. She stood above them, an angel of vengeance in black, a gun in each hand and violence in her eyes.

"Help me up, Rodney," John said. "The vest caught it."

"You're a maniac, but okay," Rodney said. He helped John to his feet, wincing with each gasp.

"Teyla, you're with Boulder PD on this. Have them take these two into custody until Caldwell gets here." John tapped his radio. "Ev, belay extraction protocol, come here and take primary on the protectee. Vala will drive."

"And what about you? You're coming with us, aren't you?" Rodney crossed his arms. "You're absolutely coming with us."

John shifted his shoulders and then dropped his head. "Yeah, I'm coming in."

Mercy Street

In the car, John tried not to groan every time they hit a pothole, but even with the smooth suspension of the SUV, his ribs screamed at every bump. He could feel Rodney fluttering anxiously beside him, but it was taking everything he had not to grab his ribs and holler, so he didn't have a lot to spare to reassure Rodney.

John settled for patting his leg and saying, "I'm good. It's good. Good work back there, buddy. You all right?"

But that just seemed to upset Rodney even more, and by the time they'd done their circling, dodging, and ditching, John was all too ready for them to arrive at the security of the safe house where he wouldn't be responsible for anyone but himself for a few minutes.

"What happened out there?" Ronon asked as they came in. "Sounded like a pure sh*t show."

"Yeah, pretty much. Did you—?"

"Sam's on her way in."

"Good man." John found his way to the overstuffed sofa and sat down with a barely-contained groan. "I'm off the clock. Injury."

"Yeah, I figured as much when I heard you get shot." Ronon sounded a little pissed.

"Hey," John said mildly. "Not my first choice."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry I was not faster," Teyla said over the radio. "He had another accomplice waiting at the exit. We engaged at the same moment."

"You took down both of them from a crazy distance, T," Ronon said. "You did amazing."

"Great job, Teyla. But where was Evan?" John searched him out and found him by the kitchen entrance. "Ev? You should have shifted to Teyla's position."

"I was setting up extraction cover. There was a lot going on and I didn't hear Teyla." Evan's tone was a mix of sullen and apologetic.

"Yeah, okay." They weren't necessarily at their best on this assignment. John was proof of that. He tried to get his jacket off and suddenly Rodney started assisting him.

"Let me help you before you hurt yourself worse," he said, sounding pissed.

"Thanks."

The electronic door lock whirred and Sam stepped in just as John was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Well?" she said, and wow; She was even more irritated than Rodney.

"Vest caught it," John said airily. "Hardly a thing."

"Mmm-hmm." She waved her hand. "Let's see it."

John sighed and stripped off his shirt and then tried to reach for the straps of his armor, but Rodney yanked on the velcro himself in a few, rough pulls.

When he revealed the deep blue and purple bruising on John's torso, he hissed audibly.

"Broken or cracked?" Sam said, sounding worried.

"I'm not sure—"

Rodney reached out and put his hands on John's abdomen. John sucked in a breath and started to speak, but something about the expression on Rodney'd face kept him silent.

After a pause, Rodney said, "Four cracked, one broken, the little one. I can fix them."

"Are you sure?" Sam said. "Don't overextend yourself. You know what happened last time."

"Last time?" John said weakly, shock taking his breath as he felt a cool feeling begin to overwhelm the pain in his ribs, bringing them comfort. Rodney did something with his fingers, and John could practically feel the inflammation being soothed away. "Incredible. So this is what you got from the Incident."

"Yes, he has quite a Talent. Last time you were all unconscious and dying," Sam said. "I was the first one to wake up since my injuries were less severe. Rodney almost died multiple times healing us of the radiation burns."

"What?" Evan said, sounding wounded.

John couldn't breathe, suddenly, remembering the pain, the burning, his skin stretched tighter than a drum as the screaming rose all around him. So loud, and he couldn't tell where his own voice left off and the others' began. He felt like he was being cooked alive, and then the same cool comfort he was feeling now washed over him, soothing him, taking away the terrible pounding of his heart. Was that Rodney? Had Rodney taken that terrible pain inside himself so John could live?

"Don't be dramatic, Sam," Rodney said. "I think my body wouldn't let me go that far."

"We had to restart your heart!"

"Eh. That was my hypoglycemia."

"What about Collins?" Evan asked hesitantly.

Rodney lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry about Collins. His injuries were too severe."

"What Rodney means is, he was dead before they got him to the infirmary," Sam said gently. "Rodney did the best he could. We'd all be dead if it weren't for him."

"There," Rodney said, lifting his hands. "How's that?"

John tested his ribs, marveling at how good it felt to breathe deeply again. "Fantastic. Thanks. Thanks, Rodney." He knew his admiration was blatant.

Rodney ducked his head and blushed. "You're welcome."

John stared, fascinated, until Sam broke in.

"So, how about me getting a report?" she said, grinning toothily, and John groaned.

"So, at least one of the parties is a researcher, first name 'Trond,' and it sounded like he wasn't after Rodney's current project after all...."

The other party has been neutralized. But this has gotten too complicated. You are on your own.

Don't be foolish. You acknowledge he is a threat.

But this operation is even more of one at this point. I'm out.

You will regret this.

Time Is Running Out

O’Neill crashed in about 10 minutes after John finished giving his report, took one look at John's bare chest, and grunted in satisfaction. “So, he used his,” O’Neill wriggled his fingers, “Healing mojo on you.“

“Yes, sir. Good as new."

“I’ll be the judge of that." O’Neill then turned to Sam and grabbed her laptop to begin scanning the report. After he finished, he took the chair in front of John.

“Hold still. It makes me dizzy when you move around," O’Neill said, then stared at him intently, his eyes scanning slowly from the top of John’s head all the way down to his shins.

“Huh. Not bad, McKay. There’s still some swelling, but otherwise, he’s looking all right."

John started to relax.

"Now would either of you like to fill-in the big-ass blank in that pile of dooky-doo you call a report?"

"I’m not sure what you mean, sir," John said, licking his lips.

"Oh, I think you do. How did this researcher, Trond whatever, get the drop on you, Sheppard?"

"It was me," Rodney blurted out beside him. "It was my fault. I was getting tired of all the 'protocol stand here do this now wait around all the time' BS, and I made a stupid mistake and it was all my fault. I went into the researcher's reading room without John."

John shook his head ruefully. "No, sir, it was my fault. I’m the Roper. I should’ve anticipated Rodney had lost patience with our protocol. I take full responsibility."

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Oh, my God, spare me the Spartacus routine. Just promise me neither of you will screw up again. Are you at least close to the same page now?"

"Absolutely, sir," John said, sharing a look with Rodney.

"I think so. Yes, yes!" Rodney added at O’Neill’s glare.

"Hmm. Why don’t you two clowns go make sure you’re really in sync and not lying to the old man?"

"Right away, sir," John said, taking the reprieve for what it was. He stood up slowly and took Rodney back to his room, where the cat greeted Rodney with happy paws in the air. Rodney remained uncharacteristically quiet, and John grew concerned.

"Have you eaten anything? I can get you something from the kitchen. Are you up on your medication? Do you need some water?"

"Oh, my God. Stop being so nice; you’re giving me the hives. I’m fine! Yes, I took my medication on time. Yes, I had water in the car. I’m a little hungry, but I can wait until dinner." Rodney sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over the cat's side.

"You were almost kidnapped, though, so I’m guessing you’re not all that fine." John said it as gently as he could. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rodney shook his head. "Actually, I want to apologize, as badly as it hurts me to say so—you know how much I despise admitting when I'm wrong—but I could have gotten myself kidnapped and you killed with my stupid maneuver today."

John shrugged. "Yeah, but you've been a lot more patient than I expected, considering what a change this is for you."

"Right, well. I'm sorry anyway." Rodney bit his lip. "What I really want to talk about is your expression when that asshole started to drag me away." He looked down at the cat. "Because up until now, I was pretty sure the only reason you were being so careful in protecting me was to preserve your perfect record."

John's blood pressure jumped. "Jesus, Rodney. You have to know I-I would never let anything happen to you if I could help it."

Rodney looked up hopefully. "I really thought you didn’t care anymore."

"Well, you were dead wrong." John shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his hands together. "Rodney." John hesitated. "Why did you… Why did you leave us?"

Rodney stared up at him. His eyes were wide as saucers.

A knock came at the door. "Guys, supper is ready," Daniel said.

Rodney jumped up off the bed as if on springs, making the cat run off. "I guess I’m hungry after all," he said and walked to the door.

John took a moment before he rubbed his face roughly and followed.

Sam and Jack had stayed, so the table was full. The only chair open was opposite Vala and Rodney, so John took it and grabbed a roll from the basket to take the edge off. He felt like he hadn't eaten forever.

"People, people," Jack said, tapping the table. "I feel like it falls on me to toast you all for not getting dead once again. Well done. Keep it up."

"Hear, hear," Daniel said, and they all clinked their glasses together, juice for the most part, although, Jack and Sam were drinking beer, John noticed with envy. He really could use one right about now. On the other hand, at least he wasn't stuck on watch like Ronon was.

"Not to be rude or anything, but I didn't realize you all had gained, uh, special powers from the, um, radiation incident," Rodney said.

"Uh-uh," Jack said, shaking his finger. "We call 'em 'Talents.' As in, John is a very talented runner."

"Oh, yeah." John smirked into his glass. "Extremely talented."

"And Vala, here, is very talented at not being noticed."

"Ayup," Vala said, and Rodney jumped, apparently because he hadn't noticed her sitting right next to him. Everyone laughed.

"Teyla can hit a fly with a paper clip at twenty feet," John said.

"Now that is an exaggeration," Teyla said.

John nodded at the bag of nuts at her elbow. "Tell me you haven't been pegging squirrels with cashews from even further."

She grinned impishly. "Sometimes they are shy and I have to lure them in."

"Uh-huh."

"I observed what you can do," Rodney said to Jack. "What about you, Sam?"

"I have good hearing," Sam said. "It's not as fun as it sounds."

"I'll bet."

"And Evan can see so well it gives him headaches," John said casually. "Isn't that right, Ev?"

"You know about those?"

John rolled his eyes.

"I supposed Ronon's Talent involves computers somehow?"

John nodded. "He calls it cyberkinesis. Hell if I know what that means."

"I do," Rodney put in. "I'm more than a little envious, actually."

"You would be, you dork." John couldn't help grinning fondly.

"And Daniel is our own little brain trust," Jack said. "He keeps everything he's ever heard or seen up in that noggin of his." He tapped his temple.

"So, not a lot has changed there," Rodney cracked, and laughter rippled around the table. "But what about Teal'c? I haven't seen him around."

Jack looked at Sam, who looked at John. Of course they would lay it on him. Cowards.

"Teal'c is our sleuth," John said slowly. "His Talent is...reading people."

Rodney stared at him a hard second before dropping his fork. "Oh my God. It's him. He's the psychic!"

"Hey! Only Teal'c gets to use that word," Jack said.

"Right. Sleuth." Rodney shook his head. "Ugh, he's going to crawl around my brain—"

"No, he's not," Jack said sharply. "Teal'c doesn't do that without permission."

"Oh, ohhhhh, I get it," Rodney said. "He says he's a psychic and asks for permission, and these schmoes actually give it to him?"

"That's the way it works, yeah." Jack settled back.

"Well, not me," Rodney said. "My brain is way too precious."

"Oh, we know." John tried not to laugh at Rodney's gobsmacked expression.

"Now that I've subdued the bad guy," Rodney said, giving John a pointed look, "can we do away with all this, this...attention?"

"Teal'c doesn't think so," Jack said. "Neither do I. This guy was trying for a kidnapping. If he wanted you so badly, enough to put a tracer in your stuff, then why the bomb?"

"You think two people are after me?"

"Or possibly two parties," Daniel said, walking back in with fresh pot of coffee. "Yeah."

Rodney reached for the pot, and Daniel poured him some, automatically topping off Jack while he was at it. He gave John a questioning look, and John shook his head. It felt like he hadn't slept properly in days, but Teal'c was pretty confident the safe house was secure, at least for now. Maybe John could get some real sleep tonight.

Sam drew their attention. "Teal'c thinks our best lead is still the incendiary device, so he and Daniel will be following up on it while you all continue on Rodney's detail. Do not let up on opsec in any regard, you hear me? You were extremely lucky today, thanks to Sheppard's bulldozer technique and McKay's quick thinking. No more close calls, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," John said along with everyone else.

"And get some good rest," Sam said, her eyes pinning John. He gave her a small nod.

"All right," Jack said, clapping his hands. "Daniel, did you make any of those awesome oatmeal raisin cookies?"

"I sure did."

"Well, don't just stand there! Go get 'em."

"Yes, Jack. Of course, Jack." Daniel disappeared into the kitchen.

"Sheesh. It's like I have to think of everything around here."

Teyla appeared at Rodney's door just as he was getting ready to go to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Dr. McKay. I meant to give this to you before dinner, but I didn't have the opportunity." She held out a slim black thumb drive.

"What is it?" Rodney said, taking it.

"I spoke to Dr. Levinson—"

"Oh! Oh, crap. How pissed off was he?"

"He was quite understanding. If I may?"

"Yes, of course, go on."

"I spoke to him after the FBI took Trygstad and his accomplice into custody. I offered Dr. Levinson reimbursem*nt for the damage to the door, and he told me it was unlikely they would be able to repair it as all the components are antique."

Rodney winced.

"However, he told me they do have other doors in unused parts of the building that might serve as a substitute, and they will let us know the cost in replacing one of those."

"Oh, that's wonderful news," Rodney said. "I love that room; I've spent so many hours there." He flipped the drive between his fingers. "And this?"

"Dr. Levinson graciously transferred the data you required onto this drive."

Rodney held it more carefully. "That's utterly fantastic! Thank you, Teyla."

She smiled. "The FBI released your laptop as well and Ronon has confirmed it hasn't been tampered with. You can get it back from him. Good night, Rodney, and...because I didn't have an opportunity before, thank you for saving my life."

"I—you're, uh, welcome."

She gave him a glowing smile and closed the door.

Rodney took the drive and placed it carefully on the side table next to his phone. This meant everything. This meant tomorrow, assassins willing, he could finally move forward on determining the material for the casing of his PCM.

He was one step closer to success.

John answered the phone with one hand holding his morning cup of coffee. So close, no cigar.

"Sheppard here."

"This is Teal'c."

"What can I do you for, Aakil?"

"I have been looking over the information on Dr. McKay's case spanning back to the Incident at Area 51."

John leaned forward "Thanks for taking the time. You think Area 51 has something to do with the assassination attempt?"

"Considering the aim of the scientist in kidnapping Dr. McKay, it isn't altogether unlikely. But there is something missing from the data, and I can't quite identify it."

"That's what I've been saying," John said. "There's something I'm missing, here. It's got me stumped. "

"Perhaps an interview with the protectee will be revealing," Teal'c said. "Can you arrange it?"

John winced. "Uh. I'll ask him. He's a little leery thanks to concerns about intellectual property."

"I would happily sign a standard NDA," Teal'c said. "In the meantime, a review of your understanding of the case might be equally illuminating."

"Yes! That would be great. Let's start there."

"All right. I will visit the safe house tomorrow so we can have some undisturbed time."

"Sounds super. It will be great to see you, Aakil. It's been too long."

"We are all too busy, my friend. Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

John hung up and took his cold coffee to the kitchen, where Rodney was hovering over the coffee pot with a thermos.

Dumping his cup in the sink and rinsing it out, John said, "Don't you guys have coffee at Prometheus?"

"Not as good as yours. I'll have to talk to Weir about it."

John leaned against the counter. "How close are you to completing your," he paused and landed on, "doohickey?"

Rodney's outrage was palpable. "Excuse me? Did you just call my shattering, world-changing invention a doohickey?" he said disbelievingly.

"Yeah, you know, doohickey, thingamajig." John fought to hide his expression but Rodney's speechless fury was rapidly making it impossible.

"You-you—how dare you belittle a scientific achievement of the magnitu—I knew you were a pea-brained air jockey but this is beyond belief—"

John burst out laughing.

"Oh, oh, laugh it up. Very funny. I'll win a Nobel for this and you'll still be guarding bimbo celebrities, where the worst threat you'll face is getting thrown in the pool."

"Could be," John said, unfazed. More likely, if this case got solved despite all the ugly turns, Sam would offer him another vacation, and this time he'd take her up on it.

He'd surely missed McKay, but damned if the guy wasn't a trouble magnet.

"You done being insulted? 'Cause I'm still hoping for an answer."

Rodney sighed heavily. "I'm pretty close to finishing the preparatory work. Then, of course, I have the testing phase. I'll probably start that sometime next week."

"So, close then. I'm guessing it's no coincidence the trouble started up now."

Rodney licked his lips. "It's not over, is it?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Then I'm glad I've got you on my side, pea-brained or not."

John snorted. "Thanks, McKay. Come on, your chariot awaits."

That evening at dinner, Ronon dropped the bomb that tighter security measures meant no more remote work from the safe house. McKay lost his tiny mind, accused Ronon of sabotaging his work, and stormed back to his room, John assumed to be comforted by his cat.

"I'll make him up a plate," Daniel said.

"Thanks. I'll take it to him." John turned to Ronon. "I apologize on his behalf. He's under a lot of pressure to complete this, and I assume he also feels responsible to do it before one of us gets hurt protecting him."

Ronon raised his eyebrows. "Now go remind him we're here to protect him and not the other way around."

John took the tray Daniel put together and brought it to Rodney's room, but Rodney responded to John's knock with a gruff, "Go away."

"I brought you some dinner."

"Leave it." After a moment, Rodney added a begrudging, "Thanks."

Figuring that was the best he was going to get, John went to his own room to chill. He couldn't stop seeing Rodney's worried face above him, hands pressed to John's chest as he healed him. He wished he could remember the period after the Incident, but none of that time had ever come back to him.

He started to drift to sleep and decided the hell with it. He could wake up later and undress. It was too hard to drag himself out of bed.

The next time he opened his eyes it was the middle of the night and he was chilled to the bone. He got up to take a piss, brushed his teeth, undressed, and this time crawled under the covers to rejoin his dreams, which were filled with Rodney's concerned blue eyes and warm hands, and the sound of John's own heart beating, beating, beating.

Teal'c showed up that morning as promised, to the great pleasure of the whole team. The guy just exuded calm and good vibes, and everyone could seriously use them, John most of all.

"Thanks for coming by," John said, greeting Teal'c at the door and leading him into the dining room, where Daniel already had breakfast going for the team.

Vala flirted outrageously, as usual, and Ronon invited Teal'c to come over for a hacky-sack tournament at his and Daniel's the next weekend. Meanwhile, John made another plate to take to Rodney's room. The door was shut tight but the previous tray was gone. John sighed and left the new one, then went back to breakfast.

Afterward, he led Teal'c to his own room, his sausage and eggs sitting a little heavily in his stomach. This wasn't his first time getting scanned, but he'd always been a private sort of guy, and sharing his thoughts wasn't easy.

“I haven’t had a chance to speak to McKay yet,” John said as they sat down. “But you and I can do our session, right?”

“Yes of course. Let me know when you feel ready, and I will begin.”

John tried to organize his thoughts, such as they were, around McKay's case. Putting his hands on his legs, he said, "Ready."

The scan felt just as weird this time, a sense of dizziness, and then his own memories were triggered—when Sam first approached him, the surveillance, the first attempt, Rodney healing him—all the memories crisp as if they'd just happened. And it was clear exactly what Teal'c was scanning: everything related to the case, and no more, and all with a calm, dispassionate presence. Once he was finished, Teal'c leaned back, and John shook his head as if released from a spell.

"That it?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, your reports were quite thorough," Teal'c said, his deep voice both approving and disappointed. "However, I did get one small piece of information from O'Neill in our weekly scan."

"Wow, that's great. What did you find?"

"He was in a meeting with SSA Caldwell and X-rayed the case folder Caldwell had on McKay. This revealed surveillance photos of McKay—and you as well—going all the way back to Area 51."

"What?" John's pulse beat a dull throb of anger in his throat. "That long? What the hell is Caldwell up to?"

"You misperceive the point, as did O'Neill. There was no internal surveillance at Area 51. It was a deliberate choice on the part of Air Force to limit surveillance to the exterior of the buildings. Whoever took the photos did so illegally and, in fact, are guilty of espionage. Whether or not Caldwell is aware of it, remains to be seen."

"Jesus. What does Jack plan to do?"

"A little espionage of his own. But sanctioned this time." Teal'c smile was a little intimidating.

John liked it. "I'll talk to McKay about his own scan."

Teal'c rose. "Please do. I feel there are more forces at work than we realize, Sheppard. Please be careful."

"I will. Thanks, Teal'c."

But when John went to get Rodney, he was already zipping up his bag to get ready for work.

"Let's get a move on, Sheppard. My Nobel is waiting."

"Do you have twenty minutes to talk to Teal'c?"

"And let him go rummaging around in my brain? No thank you!"

"It's not like that," John said, leaning against the doorway. "Teal'c sticks to whatever topic you focus on, and scans your memories for information."

"Nuh-uh. You underestimate how much I value my gray matter."

"Oh, come on."

"Besides, I really don't have the time. I finally have the materials database I needed. Let's go," Rodney waved his hand. "Shoo! You're in my way."

"Fine." John rubbed his forehead. "But give it a little thought. You might have some vital clue locked up in that precious noggin of yours."

"Whatever. Can we go?"

"Right." Hiding his frustration, John tapped his radio. "Team, we're rolling in five."

Rodney waited until the glass door closed behind Sheppard before turning to his computer and getting to work. First, he loaded the materials database onto the lab server, then he started on altering his simulation to run against a filtered group of likely possibilities. Even with his limiting query, it would take days for the simulation to run.

In the meantime, Rodney could work on the calculations for his first trial. Even without the final container, the problem of limiting the power output was only partially solved.

"Kokot! There you are!" Radek announced his arrival with a disdainful curse. "You disappear and leave me to worry? I am not a young man for these shenanigans."

"Sorry! I went to the library and, um. Things happened. I didn't manage to get your lecture series. Sorry."

"What things? What happened?" Radek came over to his desk. "I thought you were safe with your protectors?"

"Yeah, well. This one was my fault. I went into the research room by myself."

Radek rolled his eyes and shook a fist at him. "Always you have to make an ass of yourself! What happened?"

"Someone tried to kidnap me. Sheppard stopped them by busting down the door and grabbing the guy. Then the other one shot him and I...might have used my unique abilities to defend myself."

Radek sat down, his face pale. "This is not good, Rodney. Do you know what some would do to have their own personal healer?"

"Yeah. I know. On the other hand, he might he assume he had a normal heart attack from all the excitement."

Radek gave him a dubious expression.

"Hey, let me have my denial. I've got enough on my mind." Rodney looked at his screen where his cursor blinked patiently.

"True, true. Do you need any help? I have completed my weekly summary for Dr. Weir. I think she is coming around to liking me."

"Now who's deluded?" Rodney stared at the equation on his screen. "Could you take a look at this? I need to solve this jump here." He pointed out the gap to Radek, who pulled up a stool and leaned over to take a look.

They batted ideas back and forth for a few hours. At some point, Sheppard ducked his head in and offered to take them out to the cafeteria, but Rodney just waved him away. Radek went to his bag and brought back a sandwich; he generously offered half to Rodney.

"Oh, this is interesting," Radek said, wiping his fingers with a napkin. "You are disguising the power output with the limiting function. Why don't you just limit the size of the vector using the stability function?"

"Ooh, that's dastardly. I like it." Rodney started to type. Radek wandered away back to his desk. "Thanks, Radek."

"Neni zac!" Radek waved him off.

Time passed like nothing after that. Radek stopped by his desk to say goodnight, but Rodney didn't even raise his head, just grunted something appropriate. Later, Lorne showed up and shoved something hot and savory under Rodney's nose, and he wolfed it down one-handed, the other hand on his mouse.

Even later, Sheppard showed up and lifted Rodney's head from the keyboard, asked him if he'd saved his work, and steered him out the door and into the SUV.

The next day and the next it was more of the same. It was always like this when Rodney was deep in it. Nothing existed but the puzzle, and he was right on the verge of the solution standing clear and bright in his mind. He just needed to get it all down and run it through.

One morning, he woke up at the breakfast table when he heard someone mention his name.

"What was that?"

"I was wondering if you were close to finished with your project, Dr. McKay," Teyla said. "It seems our luck has held so far, but I'm not sure it will much longer."

"Teyla's right," John said. "It's been quiet; too quiet. Our operational security is tight, but that just means sooner or later they'll make a move where they can get at McKay." He looked at Rodney. "At Prometheus."

Rodney sighed. "Nice. Use the danger to other people to get me to comply."

"I don't know what you mean," John said, innocence oozing from his pores.

"I'll do the psychic thing, but only if it doesn't interrupt my work. I'm so close! Have Teal'c come by the lab and I'll give him a few minutes."

"Great! Super!" John said, clapping his hands together.

"Fantastic," Rodney said. "Can we go, now?"

"Yes. Yeah." John nodded eagerly. "Folks, let's move out!"

Once in the car, John said to Rodney, "Thanks for doing the scan. I know it makes you uncomfortable. It bugged me too, the first time. I'm not good at letting …people…you know."

"No kidding," Rodney said dryly.

"Radek would be grateful if he knew what you were doing for him."

"But he won't know." Rodney looked up and caught Lorne watching them. "That goes for you, too, Lorne. I know you and Radek have gotten chummy."

"Mum's the word," Lorne promised.

"Good."

Rodney completed the limiting equation that morning. He shared a congratulatory high-five with Radek and ended up poking himself in his own eye. It was worth it, though—preventing the destabilization of the world order never smelled so sweet.

"I wish I could share credit with you," Rodney said. "But I'm afraid it will still make you a target. I will if you want me to, though."

Sheppard looked like he wanted to object, but Radek replied. "I would like to keep my cranium intact, thank you."

The simulator was still grinding through materials, but it was the final piece in the puzzle, and any material that worked with the PCM at full power would work at limited capacity. He could always re-input with the lower threshold.

In the meantime, John gestured in Teal'c, who looked the same as ever—calm demeanor and serene smile, now accessorized with a black pork pie hat and the team's black-on-black outfit. Sheppard closed the door behind him.

"Good to see you, Teal'c," Rodney said gruffly.

"And you as well, Dr. McKay. I hope life has been treating you well."

"Pretty good, as you can see." Rodney gestured at the lab. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Right here is fine, if Dr. Zelenka can give us some privacy."

"Oh, yes. It is time for me to enjoy my pierogies in private." Radek took his lunch container and left.

Rodney turned to face Teal'c, who gestured for him to sit down. "Just focus your mind on the assassination attempt and everything that has bearing on it. I will restrict my scan to those memories."

"Sure, all right."

"Please relax, Dr. McKay."

"I'm relaxed. What makes you think I'm not relaxed?"

Teal'c smiled briefly. "Your face."

"Oh, funny man. All right, all right. One second." Rodney concentrated on letting his shoulders and face relax. This was fine. He trusted Teal'c. Teal'c was the nicest person on the team, even nicer than Sam, than John.

"Ah," Teal'c said, and memories began spooling out behind Rodney's eyes. The bomb and the LED, John and Lorne showing up to protect him, the move to the first safe house and the move right after—the memories zipped by so fast, Rodney wasn't sure how Teal'c got anything out of them, but when they stopped, Teal'c back and said, "Interesting."

"What? What's interesting?"

Teal'c walked to the door and opened it a bit. "John, please join me." Pointing to his radio, Teal'c made a slashing gesture.

They all clicked off their radios.

"What is it?" John asked, voice tense enough to cut.

"Something I noticed in your memories, in Jack's, and now in Rodney's. Not obvious, but reason enough to note: Evan Lorne does not like Dr. McKay very much."

"Oh, well." Rodney shrugged, hurt but not willing to admit it. "People don't like me. That's nothing new."

"What're you talking about? People like you," John said, defending him staunchly.

"Well, obviously not, if Teal'c noticed it."

"I don't know if it's situational or personality driven," Teal'c said. "But it would be worth asking him."

"All right," John said. "We'll ask him tonight. We can't ask him while he's on detail, not without pulling someone else in."

"That seems reasonable," Rodney said reluctantly.

John nodded. Switching his radio back on, he said, "Teyla, perimeter check."

"All is well. I am having a chat with Dr. Weir about the morality of animal testing."

"Ah. Good." John's face twisted hilariously, and Rodney couldn't help grinning.

"John, this is Sam. Code gray. Hold location until Jack and I arrive. I repeat, Code gray."

"Copy that," John said, going to Rodney immediately. "We will hold position."

"Sam out."

"What the hell is a code gray?"

"It means interference by another agency, either cops or feds. Do you have some way of securing your lab?" John looked around.

"It is secure! You need a code to enter, and the only three people who have access are—"

"You, Radek, and Weir, I'm guessing," John said. "Any way to change that code? Because I'll bet their first move will be to obtain Weir's compliance. If that fails, they will get Radek's."

The door beeped and Radek strolled in, a spot of grease on his tie.

"You're one lucky SOB," Rodney said.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing, as usual."

Radek blew a raspberry at him.

"I will go assist with Dr. Weir," Teal'c said, and left in a hurry.

"No, we can't change the code," Rodney said. "Not without accessing the IT lab, and they're on a different floor."

"Ronon, do you have physical control?"

"That's a negative. For security reasons, some access is hardwired."

"Which is good," Rodney said, "but bad, in this case."

"All right. So we go for physical." Sheppard looked around the room and then pointed to the server cages. "Those, they lock, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"There's an empty one at the end of the row. Do you have the keys? Does anyone else?"

"No, but—"

"You and Radek should fit in there just fine."

"I'm not going to hide in the server cage!"

"Speak for yourself," Radek said. "I am happy to, especially if it will save me from guns."

"Well, the doors are mesh made of sixteen gauge steel, so it's not a terrible idea, but I have work to do! I'm not going to huddle in a refrigerated cage all afternoon with a guy smelling like sauerkraut-stuffed pierogies."

"So good! Just like matka made them." Radek was already digging in his drawer. He popped up a moment later with the server keys. "Aha!"

"Well? Come on," John said, gesturing toward Rodney to follow. Rodney took a longing look toward his sim, which was currently testing his favorite candidate for the PCM container, silicon carbide. Reluctantly, he trailed behind Radek into the server cage. It was really quite spacious; they'd ordered the very best for their server farm so they'd have room to maneuver around the power cables and ethernet cords and still have the security of strong steel to protect their IP.

That strength was brought home to him as Sheppard locked the door with a thunk and then slid the key through the gap near the floor.

"All right. You guys are secure. I guess I should have asked if you wanted to use the bathroom first. You want an empty cup?" John cracked a grin.

"Ha-oh very-ha. The smell of pierogies is bad enough, thanks." Rodney sat down on one of the empty crates in the corner and Radek joined him.

"Hey, Rodney, as long as you're not busy working, maybe you can tell me something," John said.

Rodney's stomach dropped like a stone. "Now I know the real reason you locked me up!"

"I had multiple reasons."

"He is crafty," admired Radek.

"Oh, you shut up. He's just trying to get me to talk to him about, about—"

"Yeah, about that. About why you left when we both could use the most help. I thought you were dead, did you know that? Until Sam told me, no, you were fine! You just didn't want to be around for all the ugly learning how to walk again stuff."

"What?" Rodney lost his breath.

John leaned in so his face was closer to the grate. "I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk or eat—hell, I stabbed myself with a fork the first time I tried. All my muscles were firing too fast. I had to learn how to do things slow again. Walking was just the last thing I learned. And I wondered the whole time what had happened to you? Were you going through the same thing? I really could've used my best friend, and I figure you could've, too."

Rodney thought about his hands yearning to heal every person he passed on the street, about the tingling pain when he didn't, and locking himself up alone and training himself by giving himself small bruises and cuts and then forcing himself to let them heal naturally. Making the wounds bigger and still letting them heal, until finally he could go out in public and not be cut down by other people's pain.

"Yeah, that would've been nice," Rodney said, standing up to approach John.

"So, why? Why'd you leave?" John's eyes were a clear blue green today.

"I couldn't—I didn't—"

The door beeped, and John spun around. Rodney scrambled up to the gate to peer through.

"Caldwell. Nice to see you."

"Sheppard. I've come to take McKay into custody for his own safety."

John shook his head. "Nah. We've got him pretty secure."

Caldwell looked amused. "Yes. I can see that." He held out his hand. "The key, please."

"You don't have jurisdiction."

"I'm an SSA. You're just an officer of the DoD. I don't need paperwork to take a witness into protection." Caldwell's face contorted in anger when John just crossed his arms. "Don't make me ask you again."

"Then don't make me say no again," John said, and Rodney stifled a laugh. "I'm here with my team, Caldwell," John said, his voice a warning, although Rodney didn't quite understand what he was trying to say.

"Do you think I'm afraid of you bunch of freaks?" Caldwell said. "I brought a real team of FBI agents, Sheppard. You don't stand a chance."

And then Rodney's simulation completed, shutting everyone up.

"Oh my God, it worked! It's silicon carbide! I knew it!" Rodney grabbed the gate, frustrated beyond belief he couldn't get to his computer.

But Caldwell growled with fury and smashed the butt of his pistol against Rodney's computer screen, once and then again, reducing Rodney's results to shards of glass and liquid crystals.

"What in hell are you doing?" Rodney yelled.

Sheppard may have yelled something similar, but a moment later, Caldwell called into his radio, "Engage! Engage!" and FBI agents wearing blue tac vests came pouring into the room.

Caldwell was the first to fire at John. Rodney screamed in rage, but Sheppard was just...gone, flashing into a black blur that hit the first agent like a freight train and then stopped long enough to knock out the second one with a blow to the face and then another with a kick to the groin.

"Oh, very foul move. Excellent!" Radek said.

Rodney agreed, but Caldwell was aiming at John again, and Rodney yelled, "Watch out!"

He needn't have bothered, though, because the glass behind Caldwell crackled, a hole appearing, and Caldwell collapsed with a shot to the chest.

"Thanks, Vala," Sheppard said, and zipped around to subdue another agent, this time snapping an elbow to the woman's neck. He was like a black tornado, whipping from one agent to another, disabling them with crippling blows and kicking their weapons away. Meanwhile, Vala appeared out of nowhere and slammed another two agents to the ground, knocking them out cold. She immediately started to restrain them and the others Sheppard had knocked out.

"How many more?" Sheppard asked.

"Lorne is down, shot in the leg. He'd be dead if it weren't for Teal'c fast reflexes," Ronon said over the radio. "Teyla is restraining the last three, who were all in Weir's office keeping her hostage."

"Right. That's how Caldwell got the code, I take it."

"Just a guess, but yeah."

"All right. Everyone meet in the kitchen for a juice up. Ronon, get Jack on the horn to bring in Homeland Security. If this plays out the way I think, Caldwell committed an act of terror."

"Copy that," Ronon said.

Rodney let out a breath. "Get over here and let me out. I could have helped, you know!"

"I'm sure you could," John looked over at Vala, who was treating Caldwell's wound. Then John came over to the cage, took the key from Rodney, and let him and Radek out.

"You have very bad luck," Radek said, elbowing him. "I am worried it will rub off on me."

"Foul weather friend."

"Sorry about the mess," John said, a sly grin on his face as he looked around at all their prisoners.

Rodney grabbed him in a hug. "I'm glad you're so fast," he said, squeezing even tighter when John tried to keep it brief. John capitulated and hugged him back so hard Rodney's ribs ached.

"Thanks," John whispered tightly. He rested his forehead on Rodney's shoulder for a moment before pulling away. Rodney's heart squeezed even tighter.

"Next time, let me help."

"Well, you could always join the team," John said, his eyes looking past Rodney.

"You mean, once I win my Nobel."

"I thought it was in the bag." John helped him maneuver around the glass. "Protectee on the move," he said into his radio.

"Didn't we catch the bad guys?"

"Until I'm sure, I'm still on the clock."

Rodney kind of hoped it was forever.

A Murder of One

John gathered his thoughts as he waited for O'Neill to arrive. He hated giving up primary for any reason, but he was grateful O'Neill had sent in the finest from Eagle as a replacement. Cam Mitchell was the best roper John knew and would take very good care of Rodney while John was taking care of this.

"Sheppard," O'Neill said, interrupting his worrying.

"Yes, sir." John stood and brushed off his suit.

"How sure are you about this?"

"About as sure as I can be considering my feelings on the matter."

"You don't want to be right. Well, I don't want you to be either, so let's get this over with." O'Neill walked beside him on the short trip to the hospital room. After looking in, O'Neill waved John in.

"Hey, Evan."

"Hey, John. Oh, sir!" Evan tried to sit up straighter, almost impossible with his right leg in a cast from hip to toe and held up in traction. "I wasn't expecting a personal visit."

"C'mon now, you know I care about all my kids," O'Neill said, pulling up a chair. "What's the prognosis?"

"Bullet broke the femur. Doc says traction for four weeks. Eight weeks total in the cast, then I start PT." Evan sighed heavily.

"Sounds like you'll be on the DL for a while," John said carefully. "Kind of reminds me of when we were all hurt."

Evan perked up. "Hey, do you think Dr. McKay could come visit? Maybe he could lay on some hands and shorten my time being laid up."

John slid O'Neill a quick glance. "I'll try to ask him. If you answer a question for me, Evan."

Evan's expression shut tight. "Of course, sir. Anything."

John leaned forward. "Do you hate Dr. McKay?"

Fury passed over Evan's face, followed by a hurt expression, like John had kicked him in his wounded leg. He twisted for a moment, fighting something; John had no idea what. Finally, Evan opened his eyes, his lashes damp.

"Dr. Collins and I were together."

O'Neill's jaw made a clicking sound.

"You gotta believe me, I didn't really want to—Caldwell and his friends knew and came at me to help them. They said he was dangerous. They said his mind would kill us all. But I didn't really want to—I even left the LED lit up on that stupid thing—"

O'Neill walked over and slapped a cuff on Evan's wrist, clapping the other one on the railing. It was a token effort at best, seeing as Lorne couldn't walk and could probably open the cuffs in thirty seconds or less, but the symbolism made John's throat ache.

Feeling cold through and through, John turned to leave.

"I didn't really want to hurt him," Lorne whispered. "John, I swear it."

"You hurt us all," John said, and walked out.

The next stop was the federal prison infirmary. Caldwell looked less cool and unflappable now that he was laid up in a hospital bed wearing a gown. His irritation at seeing John and Jack was expected, but his eyes widened when Teal'c walked in.

"I don't have to see him. Do I? Guard? Guard!"

"There is nothing to fear, Mr. Caldwell."

"Right. Like I'm supposed to believe that coming from you freaks." Caldwell sneered at them, the worst of it landing on Teal'c.

"Teal'c won't do anything without your permission," John said. "Now settle down there, guy. We have a deal to offer you."

"Oh, really? I'm listening." Caldwell slung his free hand over the bed railing.

Jack took over. "If you give up whoever put you up to this, we'll shorten your stay at the Hotel Hilton, here, to twenty years instead of life."

"Life!" Caldwell exploded. "For attempted murder?"

Jack smirked. "Oh, we're pretty sure it's worse than that. And right now, my guys are reviewing some old video to confirm our suspicions. Do you want to save us some trouble?"

Caldwell ground his teeth, staring furiously into O'Neill's eyes. John looked to Teal'c, who nodded once.

"Teal'c says yeah."

"You promised he wouldn't look in my brain!" Caldwell yelled. "That's a violation of my civil rights!"

"I did not," Teal'c said. "I merely read your body language, something LEOs have been doing since law enforcement began. And everything about your posture, mouth tension, and eye movements tell me you either planted an explosive device or were part of the planning for the explosion that killed Dr. David Collins and seriously injured ten other people in the Incident at Area 51. As such, you will get a life sentence for terrorism and pre-meditated murder."

Caldwell chewed his words before saying slowly. "It was Kinsey. He's the leader of the group."

"The group?"

"We don't have a name. It's a small group that's in the know and resists advancing human technology with that freaky alien stuff. But I'm not doing life for that bomb."

"All right. Then we'll need a few details," John said. "Starting with who first approached you."

Caldwell leaned back, suddenly looking much smaller in the hospital bed. "It all started with a Colonel Simmons..."

Starting Over

John got back to the safe house late. He saw Daniel had saved him some dinner, so he reheated it and took it into his room to eat it, since he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

What a waste of life, of years, to such a sad, backward cause. But it was no different from other cases he'd encountered, of people throwing themselves obsessively, dangerously, after celebrities they had no personal connection to, or states targeting rising political movements.

He put his plate on his desk, then took off his jacket and tie, hanging them on the chair then turning and stifling an undignified yelp when he found Rodney asleep on his bed.

Hell, Rodney didn't even stir; he was deeply asleep, not surprising after the last couple of weeks. John took the opportunity to really look at him, to see the changes time had made, to admire the sights he'd been denied for years: the planes of Rodney's cheeks, his high brow, his long lashes, his lips at rest. His soft belly, where John longed to rest his cheek.

Rodney opened his eyes and, caught, John stared back, unable to move.

"Well," Rodney said with a husky croak, "are you just gonna stare, or are you coming to join me?"

"In my bed?"

"No, in someone else's. Yes, in your bed! Why else have I been sleeping on this uncomfortable—honestly, did you somehow seek out the oldest, saggiest mattress in the house on purpose?"

"Yes, Rodney," John said, his joy rising like helium in his chest. He stripped off his holster and wrapped it around his sidearm, slipping it into his drawer. "I did it on purpose just in the hopes we'd be forced into our backup safe house and you'd somehow end up in my bed." Kicking off his shoes, he slithered his way up the bed, and somehow Rodney's arms were open and waiting for him. John sighed. "That is exactly why I made the worst choice possible."

"Well, it was shortsighted of you," Rodney said, sniffing into John's neck. "Because now we'll have to sneak out and move to my bedroom the moment my back starts screaming."

"I'm willing to take the risk." John took a chance and kissed Rodney's brow, and then his cheek. "Congratulations on your Nobel in waiting."

"Yes, well, it was kind of overshadowed by the whole 'life in peril' thing."

"But still, you did it, eh? My brilliant guy."

Rodney actually blushed.

John had to kiss his cheek again before asking, "So, are you ever going to answer my question?"

"Ugh." Rodney flopped away and dropped his arms. John gave him a moment before sliding down and resting his head on Rodney's stomach. No matter what Rodney's answer was, John would forgive him. He'd decided that a long time ago, and there was no turning back now.

But first, he had to know. John turned his head and kissed Rodney's sternum before closing his eyes and waiting. He could wait. He'd waited for years, after all, with no word, and with no way of getting in contact.

"Obviously, I was afraid," Rodney said abruptly.

John nodded. Fear made people do really stupid sh*t, no doubt. "What of?"

"That you would hate me, first of all."

John shook his head. "Never."

"That you would blame me."

"I didn't. I don't."

"Well, I know that now, of course. Especially since Ronon broke the news that, hello! Someone planted an explosive on the transformer! None of this was my fault! All the self-blame and the ulcer and the hating myself for years? Completely unnecessary!"

John rubbed Rodney's side. "I'm sorry, buddy."

"Yeah, well. Since none of you guys blamed me, I was getting over it anyway. But boy, I'd like to go shake Caldwell's hand." Rodney's voice turned vindictive.

"I wish you wouldn't. We need him to testify against Kinsey and Simmons."

"Yeah, I know. But still."

John petted him some more. "So you were afraid I'd hate you?"

He heard Rodney swallow. "And it hurt. Listening to you screaming. Trying to heal you and knowing, at first, I made it worse before I made it better. I'm sorry! I tried! But the burns hurt and my hands were burning too, and I didn't know what I was doing."

"Rodney," John grabbed his flailing hand. "You saved my life. You saved all our lives. I don't blame you. I, God, I missed you."

"You didn't act like it."

"I was trying to be professional! And to keep you alive!" John squeezed his hand, then kneeled up to lean over him. "Can't we just...aim for getting back to where we were?"

Rodney stared up at him, eyes pooling blue, and said, "I want to. I want to so badly. I'm sorry I left."

"And I'm sorry I waited to tell you: welcome back." John bent down and kissed him, and it was just like he remembered, those warm, soft lips sending electricity straight through him. John held Rodney tight and kissed him again and again before nipping his way down his jaw to his left ear, where if he remembered right—

"Ooh, yes."

—Rodney was particularly sensitive. John grinned and rolled until they were both on their sides and could start pulling pieces of clothing off.

"These black shirts have been driving me crazy," Rodney muttered. "So silky I just wanted to run my hands all over you."

"Be my guest," John murmured, thrilling when Rodney did, his fingers stroking over John's nipples and then down to his belt to pull it from his pants.

"Bold move," John said, wishing Rodney were still wearing that paisley tie of his so John could tease it off him. Next time, he promised himself, and he leaned in to nuzzle at Rodney's collar and start unbuttoning each button, revealing more skin to lick and kiss. "I missed this."

"We hardly had it," Rodney said mournfully. He pushed John away and started to undress himself. "Enough dallying or we'll get interrupted by Ronon and his damned radio again."

John grinned and yanked his radio off his belt and then the headset off his ear and tossed them both on the floor. It was worth it just for the shocked expression on Rodney's face.

"What?" John wriggled out of his pants. "I'm not that tied to it."

"Please. It might as well have an umbilical cord." Rodney was down to his shorts, and any comeback John might have had was lost. He pushed Rodney down and started kissing his nipples.

"Hey, you still have one sock on," Rodney protested, but then started panting and moaning softly when John applied pressure with his teeth, nibbling and sucking, continuing until Rodney groaned, "Oh, God, be careful or I could come from that."

"Let's do that next time," John said, raising his head and moving up for more kissing. He wet his palm and slipped his hand into Rodney's shorts and started feeling him up, just groping his gorgeous co*ck, thumbing the head and the thick veins branching down it, rubbing his foreskin where it met the crown.

"Fuuck," Rodney said, and creamed all over himself.

"Gorgeous." John kissed him again. God, he could never get enough of kissing Rodney, and taking in his flushed cheeks, and his bright, interested eyes. Then Rodney pushed John down against the bed and started in on kissing his nipples and John stopped looking and started just feeling.

"I'm not sensitive like you—ahh! Nice…wow."

Rodney chuckled and kept going south. John held his breath. He'd been dreaming of Rodney's mouth on his co*ck. Dreaming and also jerking off to the image of Rodney's mouth wrapped around him, his tongue flicking around the head just like it was doing right now, his lips floating up and down, so wet and slick, Christ.

And then something happened, invisibly, inside him—Jesus, like invisible fingers pulsing on that sweet spot deep behind his balls. God, Rodney was f*cking him with his mind. John's eyes closed in pleasure.

"Rodney, Christ, Jesus, 'mgonna come." John petted Rodney's head frantically as it rose up and down to that pulsing rhythm, and then John was coming, coming, a bright beautiful glow, and all his love and affection was centered around his beautiful schmuck, Rodney McKay, finally back with him and safe and sound. He wasn't going away again. Almost as soon as John finished coming he grabbed Rodney up and pulled him back up to kiss him some more. Probably he'd never be able to stop now that he had Rodney back.

"You're a dork! You're getting spunk all over us both," Rodney said, pretending to be annoyed.

John pushed him off and laughed. "Oh, no! What if it doesn't rinse off? We'll both die!"

Rodney chuckled. "Says the guy who laughs at danger."

"I do not." John crossed an arm behind his head, his other hand still trailing over Rodney's flushed face. "I run away from it."

"That's right," Rodney said wonderingly. "You do!"

"You're the one who took down that scientist," John pointed out.

Rodney grimaced. "Not by choice. I wonder how he found out about Area 51?"

"Caldwell confirmed he was on the list of scientists they tried to recruit for their little group."

"That means there are probably more of them out there." Rodney shivered, and John pulled the sheet over them both.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you, baby."

Rodney's pillow hit John square in the face.

...............................................
November 30, 2023
San Francisco, CA