Back In the Driver's Seat
By K Hanna Korossy
"Excuse me, Major Sheppard?"
If the use of his old rank wouldn't have already told him the speaker was one of the scientists, the accent would have narrowed it down. John Sheppard turned away from the training session he was watching, eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Dr. Z."
Radek Zelenka never came to see him, had probably never even been in the workout room before, but the nervous twitch he sometimes seemed to develop when out of his element was completely absent. In fact, he looked unnaturally still and...grave. John straightened, shutting out the grunts and mat-slapping behind him.
"Something wrong?"
"It is Rodney."
Now there were three dangerous words of the English language. Also ones guaranteed to ensure John's attention. "Don't tell me he collapsed again." That would've made four times in two days, a record even for McKay.
"No, no, as far as I can tell, the separation process is a success. He is only Rodney again."
An understatement if he'd ever heard one. There was no "only" about Rodney McKay. "So what's the problem?" John asked, hiding growing impatience. And yeah, okay, a little worry. His head scientist did have a way of seeking out trouble. Who else would have survived being sucked into a Dart, only to come out sharing a body with Lt. Cadman?
"He is, um..." Zelenka leaned in, and John automatically did the same. "...not talking."
His first impulse was to laugh. There were times, not infrequent, when he would have paid good money for a silent McKay. And Zelenka had been at the receiving end of a lot of Rodney's frustration those last two days; if anyone should have been enjoying the respite, it would be he. The sober Czech in front of him, however, sobered John, too. The fact of the matter was, there were some things the universe wasn't ready for, things that were downright unnatural, and an uncomplaining, unberating, unsarcastic Rodney was one of them.
Which still didn't explain what Zelenka was doing talking to John.
"Have you mentioned this to Dr. Beckett or Dr. Weir?" he asked.
A terse shake of the head, sending floppy hair flying, was his only answer.
John made a face. Yeah, he could have pursued it, but why make the guy say it aloud? This wasn't a medical matter, and drawing Elizabeth into it would have just made it more complicated. For better or for worse, and God only knew how, John was the best friend Rodney McKay had, probably here or on Earth. Even more unbelievably, the reverse was also true. Which meant he was designated hitter on this one.
Yay him. "Yeah, okay," John sighed. Turning back to his boys, he gave some instructions for the rest of the session, then wheeled to find Zelenka already gone. John's lips twitched. Hadn't wasted a moment getting back to the safety of his home turf, had he?
But he'd thought it important enough to come find John, and that said a lot. Smile fading, John walked out of the room in search of one silent scientist.
At least Rodney wasn't hiding. His lab was the first place John checked, and sure enough, sitting there at a table hunched over machinery John didn't remotely recognize, sat the object of his search. Rodney didn't even look up as the doors opened, then shut behind John.
He knew John was there, though. They didn't fool each other easily anymore.
Which was why John gave an internal wince at the sight of his friend bent in intense work. Of course Rodney hadn't looked normal after waking in the infirmary earlier. He'd been dematerialized twice in as many days, shared his body for most of that time with a woman he barely knew, and had a seizure when his "lower brain functions" had started getting messed up. The guy had a right to be a little pale.
That wasn't all that was wrong, though. With the tightness around his eyes, the rigid posture even in the sanctuary of his lab, the way he was studiously ignoring John even when the soldier picked up one of the gadgets on the table and gave it a tentative toss, and that silence, something else was definitely eating at the guy. Something Rodney wasn't complaining about to high heaven like he usually did when he was unhappy.
Okay, now John was concerned.
He set the gadget down carefully and edged closer, knowing he was in Rodney's peripheral vision now. Across the table from him, he leaned a hip against a chair and nodded pleasantly. "What're you working on?"
"The Dart," Rodney said tersely, not looking up.
Two words--it was a start. "Hmm. Looks smaller close up."
Rodney's lips drew into a thin line, but otherwise there was no reaction to the joke.
John was nothing if not persistent. "I didn't see you at breakfast."
"I wasn't there."
John's eyebrow rose. "What about the hypoglycemia?"
"I had someone bring me a few rolls."
John grinned. "That someone wouldn't be Katie Brown, by any chance, would it? I hear you two--"
"Look," Rodney set down his tools with a klunk and finally looked up at him. "Is there some reason you're suddenly haunting my lab? If you're here for another floor show, you're a little late--just me in here now," he pointed to his head, "remember?"
The flood of words was, in a way, reassuring. Not that he wouldn't have tried anyway, but John knew how to handle a ranting McKay a lot better than a dammed-up one. And at least he'd found the sore spot now...or one of them, anyway. John put his hands up defensively. "Hey, you weren't the only one seriously disturbed by your yelling at thin air. I have enough trouble with just one of you at a time."
Slightly mollified, Rodney gave him a last frown, then went back to work. His grip on the tiny screwdriver he held was tight enough to bleach his hand white, though, John couldn't help noticing.
Brow drawing together in forming suspicion, he gave McKay a moment, then quietly said, "So what do you think about Cadman? I was just gonna write up her quarterly, but you probably know her better than--"
The screwdriver snapped. It was slender, sure, no thicker than a tenth or so of an inch, but still, it was metal. Rodney opened his palm to stare at it in confusion.
John took a step closer. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine." It was snapped, high-pitched, everything but fine.
But it was enough; John got it now. It wasn't the dart, or the seizure, or even the shock of sharing his brain and body for a while. Rodney McKay, control freak, had been seriously out of control for the last two days.
Seemed kinda obvious, actually, but once the danger was over, everyone had been too busy seeing the humor of the situation to really think about consequences. Then there had been Ronon to train, too... John grimaced as he watched Rodney shakily dump the broken tool and pick up another. He'd have to make sure Cadman was looked after, too, but somehow John suspected Rodney had gotten the raw end of this deal, if some of the rumors John had heard were true. And if he knew Rodney McKay as well as he thought he did. Which meant other than dragging Kate Heightmayer into this, which had done so very much good last time, that left John Sheppard to sort out their struggling head scientist.
Control. It was a need he shared. But short of letting the man be for a while, able to do what and with whom he pleased, how were they supposed to give back--
Ah.
"Hey, McKay," he began casually, fingering one of the loose parts on the table in front of him. "Isn't it time for another flying lesson?"
That actually made the restless hands pause. "What?" Rodney expression was as baffled as if John had just asked him to dance.
"Fly. Remember?" John pantomimed banking a plane. "We stopped when the Wraith invasion started getting close."
"You said I wouldn't be flying defense," Rodney said.
"And that was the right decision," John answered patiently. "You were needed here. Now that we've got the time, though, we should pick it up again. One of these days, you might have to fly solo on a mission."
Like in the event of his death or serious injury, which wasn't really what he'd wanted to start Rodney thinking on, but it was no less the truth and McKay knew it. A long moment's pause, then the scientist nodded tersely. "Fine. It'll take days to fix what Radek ruined, anyway."
John could have pointed out that if it weren't for Zelenka, Rodney would still be in the Dart at that moment, probably only a fading life form memory by now, but he let it go. One battle at a time. Besides, Dr. Z could take care of himself.
They walked out of the lab together, Rodney stiffly leading the way, John following close behind.
There was permission to be gotten from Elizabeth first, which a loaded glance and a promise of explanation later granted him, then they were climbing into a jumper. John floated them up and out into the sky above Atlantis, then surrendered the controls and settled into the co-pilot seat to watch.
The inevitable moment of tension for a rookie taking responsibility quickly gave way to a long sigh of pleasure and loosened shoulders as Rodney settled into his seat and his role as pilot. He'd just inherited the whole sky to play in and he looked it.
Of all the things to have in common with a guy so different from him, this was the one John would have least expected. And yet he knew that look, knew he'd worn it himself many times in the past. Yeah, for him there had also been a love of speed, of freedom, of the feel of unity with an incredible machine. That was what separated the fly-boys like himself from the casual pilots. But down deep there was a very satisfying, very much needed feeling of control, a mastery over his destiny that he often lacked on the ground. As much as he couldn't relate to what McKay had gone through over the last forty-eight hours, John knew exactly what he was feeling now.
He let the minutes spool out, in no hurry, and when he finally spoke it was almost off-handedly. "How was the date?"
John could feel the minute waver of the jumper as Rodney's hands tensed on the controls, but he wasn't immediately shut out like before. A few seconds ticked by, and McKay said evenly, "It was short. Cadman took over."
"Ah." He'd actually already heard the story from Beckett, but an opening was an opening. "She do that a lot?"
McKay's mouth ticked. "Enough." A sidelong glance at John, then he seemed to surrender to the inevitable. "She, uh, well, you saw in the lab with Beckett, and, uh, she took us jogging. I'm still sore." One hand absently rubbed his thigh. "The woman is a masochist."
Seconds ticked by. There was more, he was sure of it. "And..." John finally prompted.
Rodney's ears, to his incredulous amusement, began to turn pink. John had had no idea they even could do that, but he kept his face studiously schooled as McKay muttered something.
"Excuse me?" He leaned forward.
"She took my clothes off, okay? She said she likes to sleep in the buff."
Oh. John quickly checked the instinctive desire to burst out laughing. It seemed perfect at first glance--what guy didn't want to be undressed by a beautiful woman?--but without your knowledge or control, for someone like McKay who was still learning how to talk to the opposite sex...yeah, okay, that would be more than a little mortifying. John was surprised he'd even admitted it, prime blackmailing material that it was.
Or, maybe, just plain trust.
He didn't feel like laughing so much anymore.
Add to that a few other tidbits John had noticed along the way, like that Elizabeth had relieved Rodney of duty and ordered him--in front of his people--to get his head examined, or that the Great Brain had overloaded and failed him to the point of his nearly blowing up the lab, and no wonder McKay was having control issues.
Okay, not funny at all.
But Rodney was still strung taut, waiting for his response, bracing himself.
John made a face. "I'm sorry."
The jumper wobbled again with McKay's surprise, his set jaw going slack. Not what he'd expected, even though he'd trusted John enough to confide in him. "Oh. Well. Thank you."
It didn't take long for their flight path to steady; Rodney had good instincts. He was also finally relaxing. Eventually, he glanced over at John again.
"I'm sure it was...difficult for Lt. Cadman, too."
John gave it a beat, and finally felt ready to risk a tease. "Stuck in your body? Girl's probably gonna need therapy." His own instincts were getting better, too.
"Oh, ha, ha." Now that sounded more like the Rodney McKay he knew. "Very funny."
John leaned back in his seat, propping one leg against the panel in front of him and lazily watching their flight. Filling the rest of this prescription was up to Rodney now.
A minute passed, then another. And finally, a cautiously curious, "Why, did she say something to you?"
John grinned. "Just fly, Rodney."
