Series: Moments Sacred and Profane

Title: Interlude 2: A Strange and Ancient Voice

Author: Mice

Email: just_us_mice@yahoo.com

Category: Stargate: Atlantis, McKay/Beckett

Warnings: slash

Spoilers: Season One before The Brotherhood

Rating: NC17

Summary: Rodney and the Major are in trouble offworld and it's Wile E. McKay to the rescue.

Archive: If it's on your list, you can archive it. If it isn't and you'd like it, just let me know where you're putting it.

Feedback: Feed me, Seymour.

Website: Mice's Hole in the Wall http://www.squidge.org/mice

Mirror: http://mice.inkpress.org

Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to many other people. But if they were mine, they'd be having very interesting adventures.

Author's Notes: This story is set between Meditations on the Abyss and To Dance at the Edge. Beta-age from kt4ever, Pas, Zortified, FaithsQueen and Lucia Tanaka with kibitzing from the rest of the Scribas Smutters.

~~~

Let me speak the mother tongue

and I will sing so loudly

newlyweds and old women

will dance to my singing

and sheep will cease from cropping and machines

will gather round to listen

in cities fallen silent

as a ring of standing stones

~~Ursula LeGuin -- from Invocation~~

"Why why why!" Rodney panted as he ran from the Naldoran soldiers. It never failed. Go through the Gate; get chased by a bunch of idiots waving weapons around.

Sheppard didn't bother turning his head. "Shut up and run, McKay."

They were nowhere near the Gate. It was easily ten kilometres from the city to the ring, and here they were, dodging down drab, grey brick alleys and trying to haul themselves over wrought iron fences. The Naldorans were about as technologically advanced as the Hoffans or the Genii, and Rodney had desperately hoped that they could point him to the nearest ZedPM, thank you, but of course it never turned out that way.

He finally found a door that opened. Reaching out, he grabbed Sheppard by the vest and dragged him inside, shutting the door and leaning on it, hoping that the armed men chasing them hadn't seen them duck out of the way. He tried to gasp quietly, but his breath thundered in his ears.

"Good idea," Sheppard hissed, leaning against the door beside him.

Rodney closed his eyes and let the back of his head rest against the cool wood. The Naldorans valued knowledge above all else, according to Halling. What the Athosian hadn't told them was that the Naldorans had a thing about anyone that might be on a higher tech level than themselves. Not like the Athosians had anything to worry about on that score.

"This is all your fault," Rodney grumbled. He could hear the Naldoran soldiers running past. One was shouting instructions to the others. They'd start a door to door search soon, Rodney suspected. Only the fact that it was the middle of the night had kept them from being seen by random people in the street.

Sheppard elbowed him. "This is so not my fault. It's Halling's fault. He didn't tell us not to flash the Ancient stuff. And did you have to ask for a ZPM as the first thing out of your mouth?"

Rodney opened his eyes and turned his head, glowering at Sheppard. "What do you bet they're already starting the ritual barbeque with Teyla and Ford as the guests of honor?"

"Hey, nobody said anything about cannibalism. They seem to be reasonably civilized."

"Yeah, and so did the Hoffans, but what did they do as soon as Carson helped them out? They murdered half of their own population."

Sheppard sighed. "Sounds perfectly civilized to me, considering."

Rodney snorted. "Americans. You're all lunatics."

"We have to do something to get them out." Sheppard put his ear to the door. "Sounds like the troops have moved on. We should see if we can get out of here."

"We are so screwed."

"You always say that."

Rodney gave Sheppard a chary look. "Because it's always true."

"Try to have a little optimism here, McKay."

"That's Carson's job."

Sheppard stepped away from the door. "Move so I can look outside."

Rodney refused to budge. "Oh no. You open that door and they'll find us."

"We can't stay here."

Rodney nodded vigorously. "Oh yes we can. For at least the next ten minutes. I want those gorillas as far away as possible before we expose ourselves again."

"And if they realize they missed us and come back, then we're really screwed." He glared at Rodney in the dim, empty room.

"Point." Rodney moved and opened the door a crack. He peered into the alley. Nothing was moving. He could hear the distant sound of the soldiers running. "It's clear. Let's get out of here."

They ran.

***

"What do you mean, they didn't report in?" Carson could feel his shoulders knotting as he listened to Elizabeth over his radio.

"We're not sure what's happening, Carson. Halling assured me that the Athosians have never had difficulties with the Naldorans before."

Carson couldn't help the blaze of anger he felt. "Aye, and they'd never had trouble with the bloody Genii either. Are you sending a team out after them?"

"Not yet," Elizabeth said. "They're only two hours overdue and, from what Halling said, the city is about ten miles from the Gate. It could be that they've simply been delayed."

"I hope you're right." Carson sighed. That was what he'd always hated worst about having Rodney offworld. Anything could happen. He always got a little chill down his spine when he had to say goodbye to his lover before a mission. For all he knew, each time Rodney stepped through the puddle might be the last. "If you hear anything, please let me know."

"Of course." Elizabeth sounded a wee bit concerned herself. Carson didn't blame her. It wasn't her fault that none of the team had checked in. There was nothing she could do to change that fact, and it was true that sometimes they dialed in late because they'd been delayed by weather or a miscalculation of some sort. He resigned himself to waiting.

***

"I really hoped you guys would get away," Ford said. His wrists were chained to one wall of their cell, and he sat, frustrated and forlorn, on the dank cement floor. "We were sorta counting on you to get us out of here."

Sheppard sighed, similarly bound. "Okay, so we fucked up. Now we have to figure out how to get ourselves out of this mess." He looked over at McKay. "Any ideas?"

McKay shook his head. "I got nothing." He raised his chained wrists from his lap. "This isn't my idea of a good time, I'll have you know."

"You think it's mine?" Sheppard glared at him.

"Who knows what kind of kinks--" McKay started.

"Gentlemen," Teyla interrupted, "I think we should be considering ways to escape. If you wish to argue, I would suggest you do it once we're out of this cell."

She would be the voice of reason. Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. Any ideas?" Teyla shook her head. "So. Nobody has anything we can use to pick the locks."

"Their search was quite thorough." Teyla had a look of distaste on her face. He hoped she hadn't been subjected to a body cavity search.

"Nope." Ford frowned. "They strip-searched us." They'd done that to him and McKay as well.

"You know, they don't tell you things like this can happen in Ph.D. programmes." McKay shifted uncomfortably. "And when we do get out of here, we're going to have to get all our stuff back too. I'm betting they have it locked away in some lab somewhere."

"I just hope they haven't taken everything apart," Ford said.

Sheppard watched as McKay shuddered. "At least they can't use the Ancient technology," McKay said.

"No," Sheppard said, "but that doesn't mean they won't be able to figure out how to reproduce a P90. Not something I'm looking forward to."

"Maybe they'll blow themselves up," McKay said, though he sounded doubtful.

Ford shook his head. "No way. These guys have guns a lot like the Genii's. They've got the whole light firearms thing down."

"Figures," McKay said.

There was a rattle in the hallway and the cell door opened. A pair of guards in stiff, high-necked grey uniforms stepped in. Why did all the baddies have to have lousy Nazi-era fashion sense? One took McKay by the shoulder. "You're to come with me."

"Hey! Wait a minute here!" Sheppard bolted to his feet and started for the guards, but the chain kept him too far from them to do any good. "I'm their leader. You want to question somebody, you take me."

McKay's eyes were wide with fear. "What he said!"

"No," the guard replied, leaving McKay's wrists manacled as he removed the chain from the wall. "Your scientist is the one we want." The other guard shoved Sheppard, one hand against his chest, and he fell back against the wall with a grunt.

"Oh, no no no," McKay said. "I'm allergic to everything, especially torture. I really, really hate torture."

Sheppard reached out for McKay, not able to get close. "We'll get you out of this," he swore, not knowing how.

McKay snorted as the guards took him away. "Tell that to Carson when you drag my bloody carcass back to Atlantis."

Sheppard could only watch.

***

Rodney looked around nervously when the soldiers escorted him into the brightly lit, well appointed office. There was an almost Victorian feel to it, with entirely too busy wallpaper in dark reds and browns. "What, you're gonna torture me here? I don't know why you want to get blood all over your best woodwork. Protein stains are so hard to get rid of."

"You will not be tortured, Dr. McKay." Rodney watched as a grey haired man entered the room through another door. He was dressed in a long, formal black coat that sported truly awful gold epaulets. The soldiers let him go and backed away to stand at rest on either side of the door he'd been brought in through. The man took a seat at the huge, dark wood desk, gesturing for Rodney to sit in the chair before him.

Rodney sat, still jittering. He wished he were back in Atlantis. He could use a little rest in his own nice, warm bed with his nice, warm Carson tucked around him. "So, no torture. Um... are we on the same page when it comes to torture? Because, you know, drugs and stuff."

"I assure you, you and your companions will not be harmed." The man leaned back in his chair, exuding confidence. "I am Minister Natazh, Chief of the Technology Bureau. The items you brought with you are most curious. We have something that we believe dates to a similar period, possibly of Lantean origin. It is a greatly revered treasure, but no one on Naldor can translate the inscriptions on it, nor make it function in any way."

"If that's all you wanted--"

Natazh interrupted Rodney. "Your people have a poor reputation among some of our allies. While I will not turn you or any of your people over to the Genii, our government cannot trust you. The technology you possess is a potential threat to us, and your commander's actions in the presence of the High Council were overbearing and threatening. You're lucky he's still alive."

Rodney's pulse skyrocketed. "The Athosians--"

"Obviously did not teach any of you manners." The expression on Natazh's face was menacing. "While I have no desire to harm you or your people, our military may not be in so generous a mood."

"Peachy," Rodney mumbled. So, it was a technological mess. And it looked like he was going to have to get them all out of it by solving some kind of Ancient puzzle. For all he knew, it could just be the gene and he could flip a mental switch and they could be on their way. They were hours late getting back and Carson was so going to kill him. "So what do you want from me?"

Natazh opened his desk drawer and Rodney tensed, expecting a bullet. Instead, the Minister pulled a sheet of paper out and handed it to him. "First, a translation of this. Our people have not been able to decipher its meaning."

Rodney reached out carefully and took the sheet, looking at it. The alphabet was Ancient. He could read some of it, but it he wasn't sure what most of it was. "This, um... it's going to take me a while. I need some context. Where did you find this? What's it written on? And can I see it for myself? How do I know this isn't a garbled copy?"

"Can you read it?" Natazh leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.

Rodney grumbled, annoyed. "Some of it, yes, but I'm a physicist, not a linguist. It's not like this is my specialty."

"My Genii colleagues were under the impression you knew -- what was it they said -- 'almost everything about almost everything.'" He raised one bushy grey eyebrow.

Oh great. Now his words were coming back to bite him on the ass. "Hey, if you want my help, you need to let me contact my people. I need to talk to Atlantis."

"I cannot allow that just yet," Natazh said. "No doubt your people would attempt to coerce us into releasing you before we're ready."

"You know, really, you people could just ask if you want our help. I mean we're here looking for trade, right? So let's trade." It wasn't like Rodney was any good with this negotiation stuff. Right about now he'd give his left nut for Elizabeth to be sitting in on the dickering, with nobody at all in chains. "And anyway," he raised his still manacled wrists, "could we maybe lose these things?"

Natazh regarded him with a look that made Rodney feel like a bug under a microscope. "You are not currently in a position to negotiate for anything, Dr. McKay."

"I don't know, I think I'm in a reasonably good position for it myself. I can give you the information you want, and you can let me and my friends go, right? So why shouldn't I be comfortable when I'm doing your translation for you? These things are chafing on my wrists like crazy. I have sensitive skin. And really, did you have to take away my Epi-pen? What if I'm allergic to--"

"Shut up, Dr. McKay," Natazh snapped. "You try my patience."

"Do you want me to translate this for you or not? Because I can sit here indefinitely doing nothing, I assure you." Natazh wasn't the only one who was getting irritated and impatient. "Some food would be nice. You could feed me and my team."

"Dr. Mc--"

Rodney was on a roll now, anger rising. "You want me to cooperate? Get these damned chains off me, feed me, and let me see the damned artifact. You let me contact Atlantis so they don't assume you're murdering us and send a bunch of troops through to rescue us. And mostly? I need food and my Epi-pen, because if I'm allergic to something you feed me and I don't have it, I'm gonna drop dead and you'll be shit out of luck."

Natazh sighed and shook his head. "You are an exceedingly rude and irritating man." He looked up and gestured to one of the guards. "You're very lucky we aren't like the Genii." He pointed to Rodney. "Remove his shackles. Then see to it that his friends are fed. Bring food here, as well." He looked back at Rodney. "What is an Epi-pen?"

Relieved, Rodney explained. Natazh told the guard to get that as well, and Rodney nodded, pleased. "Right. That's a great start. Now, are you going to let me talk to Atlantis?"

"We will contact Atlantis and explain your delay."

"Dr. Weir's going to want to speak to me, or to Major Sheppard: she's unlikely to take your word for it that we're unharmed." He held his wrists out to the soldier then shook them and rubbed at them when the manacles came off. "Damn, look at this. I have bruises already. I'm all chafed." He held one arm across the desk, under Natazh's nose.

Natazh rolled his eyes and groaned.

***

"Oh, thank god," Carson said, sinking into a chair in Elizabeth's office. "And you're sure they're all right, then?"

"I spoke to Rodney as well as Minister Natazh. It seems there was something of a misunderstanding." She leaned back against her desk, hands resting on its surface. There were undercurrents in her voice that left Carson uneasy.

"Well whenever Rodney's involved, misunderstandings aren't far behind," he admitted. "But I'm still a wee bit worried."

"As am I," she said. "He didn't sound like he was hurt, but at the same time, it didn't seem as though he was able to say everything he wanted to."

"You're not going to send a team after them?" He leaned forward, anxious.

She shook her head and stood. "Not just yet. I want to give them some time, see what happens. They're supposed to report in every four hours and I'll talk to at least one of them each time."

Carson stood, his stomach churning. "I really don't like this, Elizabeth. It sounds suspicious to me."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. To me, too. But right now, we have to trust Rodney and John to get them out of this situation."

Carson closed his eyes, wishing again that Rodney didn't have to go through the Gate. "I just want him home," he said quietly.

"He'll be here. You know how resourceful he is."

"I know how often he comes home injured." The chill was in his gut, tingling in his fingers and toes. He hated it when the fear did that to him.

"Trust him, Carson. He'd have said something if things were too bad."

Opening his eyes, he looked up and caught Elizabeth's gaze. "Only if he was able to." He turned and left.

***

"What the hell are you doing, McKay?" Sheppard stared at McKay, bent over a table, making notes in the fading light.

"Getting us out of here," McKay said, not looking up. He looked back at a large sheet of paper with a rubbing on it then made some more notes.

Sheppard moved to look over his shoulder. He and the rest of his team had been released from their cell a few minutes ago, after they'd been uncuffed and fed. They'd been brought here, but were really no more free than they had been before. There were four guards outside the door of the elegantly furnished room. "What is it?" He tapped the rubbing with one finger.

"Rubbing from an Ancient artifact. They want me to translate it, see if I can get the artifact working again." McKay didn't bother to take his eyes from his work. "And I'll get us home again faster if you'll shut up and let me work."

"Hey now, wait a minute. What kind of artifact? I mean, what if it's some kind of weapon?" Sheppard grabbed McKay's shoulder.

Ford nodded. "Yeah, and really, do you think they're gonna let us go just because you read something for them? What if you can't get the thing working again?"

McKay looked up. "It's not a weapon. I saw the artifact."

"How do you know it is not a weapon?" Teyla asked.

McKay snorted and turned his chair toward them. He leaned one elbow on the table, his voice filled with annoyance. "Because it's almost identical to the pedestal in the hologram room that Carson found when we first got to Atlantis. It's not a weapon. It's an archive."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's all it is?"

McKay's eyes rolled. "Yes, Major, I'm quite sure that's all it is. It'll need some repairs. I'm not sure they have a power source for it, either, but think about it -- if I fix this for them, we may be able to negotiate access to a whole second Ancient database. What if it can tell us where there's a ZedPM? Or how to recharge one that's drained? Don't you think that's worth taking a chance that they're being less than honest with us?"

Sheppard considered it for a moment. "Yeah, okay Rodney, I can see your point. And we are out of that cell, though really, I don't think being here with guards outside the door is all that much better."

"I got you fed, didn't I?" McKay asked. He turned back to the rubbings.

***

"At least they're all right," Carson said, sighing. "I don't know what to think anymore when he goes through the Gate."

Radek patted his shoulder. "They will be fine. Trust them."

The Thursday crew was thin tonight. People were busy but a few of the usual crowd had come. Erin and Hiro were, as usual, sitting on the floor by the coffee table playing Go. Tanya Jones, one of the Air Force intelligence people, was sitting with them as she watched the game. Peter was on the couch, his back tucked against Geoff's side, one of Geoff's arms around him.

"I wish I knew when they'll be home. I worry." Carson looked up at Radek, eyes clouded with his anxiety. Radek disliked seeing Carson like that.

"It depends on how long it takes McKay to do the translations," Peter said. "I don't know why they won't let one of the linguists go. You'd think they would be eager to have all the assistance they could get."

"I don't trust anyone outside of Atlantis these days," Carson said. "All they ever want to do is kill people, or lock them up."

"We must find a ZPM, Carson. This was one of the planets on the other Dr. Weir's list. Without the ZPM, there will be no going back to Earth." Radek shook his head.

Carson's eyes narrowed. "You think I don't know that? It's not like you or Geoff go through the Gate and get shot or beaten or chased about every week or so."

"Nobody has to go through the Gate to die around here," Geoff said. He looked at Radek, reaching out one hand. Radek took it and squeezed, knowing Geoff was thinking about the nanovirus.

Carson slumped slightly and nodded. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said such a thing. I'm just worried."

"It is all right, Carson," Radek said. "We know."

Carson tucked his knees up under his chin in the big chair, arms about his legs. Eyes closed, he made a quiet, uneasy sound. "I wish he didn't have to go through the Gate all the time. I wish he were here."

"He'd kill things if he couldn't go through the Gate," Peter said. "Honestly, I wouldn't want him in that mood."

Carson gave a dry chuckle, one side of his mouth quirking in a humorless smile. "Oh, aye. It's nothing I don't know. I think he's picked that up from the Major. Back in Antarctica, he'd not have had such a taste for it."

"Sometimes I swear Sheppard has a suicide wish," Erin said, looking up from the game. "That man takes the stupidest risks."

Hiro shook his head. "Military, they are all like that."

"Hey," Tanya said. She glared at him.

Hiro looked at her. "Okay, maybe not you." He grinned. "But then, I have never seen you with a gun in your hand."

"I just don't want to see Rodney developing a similar streak," Carson said softly. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I really think I should go. I'm... I don't think I'm very good company tonight."

"There's nothing wrong with your company," Peter said, looking over at him.

Carson grimaced. "I'll only annoy everyone."

"Nonsense," Radek said. "If you are upset here, you'll only be more upset if you go off by yourself. Stay a while." He let go of Geoff's hand and patted Carson's knee. "This is what friends are for, yes?"

Uncurling, Carson put his feet back on the floor. "If you're sure?"

"Of course," Geoff said. "They'll be fine. Just try to relax, okay?"

"I'll believe they'll be fine when I see Rodney standing in front of me in one piece," Carson muttered.

"He's a stubborn bastard," Erin said. "If they haven't done horrible things to him already, he's gonna come home." She placed a stone with a sharp click. "Gotcha."

Hiro snorted. He clicked a stone down as well. "No. I've got you, ne?" He grinned as she made a strangled noise, and Tanya giggled when Hiro pulled Erin's captured stones from the board.

Erin said something that was evidently quite rude in Japanese and Hiro laughed. "Oh yeah, you got me," she said. "Man, I should know better than that by now. How many straight wins is that for you?"

"Seventeen. Another game?" he asked.

"Uh, no. I've suffered ignominious defeat twice tonight already. I think it's time for me to tuck my tail between my legs and get a late snack before I turn in."

Hiro shrugged and smiled at her. "Hai; sounds good to me. Shall we?"

"I'll go with you guys," Tanya said. She stood and turned to Carson. "Really, I'm sure they'll be okay. The Major's good at getting people out of tough situations. You know that."

Carson nodded. "Oh, aye, but this isn't one that calls for guns."

"So Rodney will be his usual brilliant but obnoxious self and solve the problem. He's not that bad with Ancient, you know," Erin said, standing with Hiro. "Didn't they have red jello tonight?" She went to Carson and hugged him. "I'm sure he'll be home soon. Try not to worry too much, okay? I know it's useless advice, but you know we're here for you."

Hiro patted his shoulder. "For all that McKay is annoying, he truly is a brilliant man. If anyone can bring them all home, it will be him."

"It's too bad they won't let one of the lingies go help out," Tanya said, rubbing Carson's back. "I bet Erin here could help crack it in no time."

"Such confidence," Erin said. The three left with a wave, chatting together.

Carson put his chin in his hands. "I'm not sure I should stay very much longer."

Radek got up and stood beside Carson, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Do not go, Carson. We're your friends. We know you worry."

Carson nodded and stood himself. "I know, but I think it's time I take my worrying home. I'll be fine, really."

"Liar," Geoff said. "You're not even good at it."

"Carson," Peter added, "there's no need for you to leave. Just talk with us."

Carson looked at each of them and Radek could see the moment in his eyes when he changed his mind about leaving. "All right then." Radek sat on the arm of the chair and rested a hand on Carson's shoulder.

"I am glad you will stay." He sighed. In all truth, he was nearly as worried for Rodney as Carson was. For all their arguments, he felt close to the man. Rodney was a friend and Radek hated the idea of seeing him hurt. The thought of what that would do to Carson made it even worse.

Carson shook his head and looked over at Peter and Geoff. "I'm sorry I fret so. I should know better, really."

"Well, it *is* Rodney," Peter said. "I can understand why."

"So not helping," Geoff said. He poked Peter with an elbow. Carson chuckled softly.

"Carson, would you like a drink?" Radek offered.

Geoff looked at him. "You still have vodka?"

"Not much anymore." Radek shrugged. "Was saving it for a moment of need. I think this qualifies."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I think I'd like that very much. I could use a wee dram."

Radek went into the bedroom and pulled out the little bottle from his bureau drawer. He gave it a gentle shake. There was less than half the bottle left, and this was a much smaller container than the one he'd smuggled to Atlantis in the beginning. He sighed. It was for a good cause, at least. There was really only enough left for a few sips for each of them. Closing the drawer, he returned to the main room. Opening the cap, he handed it to Carson. "This is all that is left," he said. "Take a sip, pass it around."

Carson nodded. "Sl‡inte," he said, raising the small flask. He sipped and passed it back to Radek.

"He will come home," Radek said. He sipped and passed it to Geoff.

Geoff nodded. "It's gonna be okay, Carson." Geoff sipped and made a face. "Oh, smooth." He handed it off to Peter.

Peter smiled. "Cheers." He sipped as well and passed it back to Carson. The flask went around one more time, and as Radek predicted, that was the end of it.

"Thanks lads," Carson said softly. "You're good friends. I really did need this. It's been a while since I've had anything stronger than that Athosian beer."

Radek nodded. "Yes. Perhaps it will help you sleep?"

"I think so. It's got me a wee bit lightheaded already."

"Who knew you were a lightweight?" Geoff said. He smiled.

"Don't be teasing him, Geoff," Peter admonished. "He's got enough of a rough patch without you messing with him."

Carson gave him a half-hearted smile. "Oh now, it's not so bad. I'll certainly make it back to my place without knocking into walls."

"If you want, I could walk with you," Radek offered.

"No lad." Carson's voice was soft. "I've done enough fretting. It's time I'm off. I really should try to sleep."

"If you are sure." Radek tilted his head, looking at Carson, wishing there was more he could do.

"Aye, I'm sure."

"Well then." Radek stood. Geoff and Peter both got up as well, and the three of them hugged Carson before he left.

"See you tomorrow," Geoff said.

"Breakfast," Peter added.

Radek nodded and patted Carson's back. "Try to sleep, yes?"

Carson smiled, this one a bit more genuine. "Right enough then. Good night, lads."

***

Rodney sighed quietly. He was only partway through the translation. He wished silently for Elizabeth or maybe Harold Natzen, because although he read Ancient passably well, it wasn't his specialty and this seemed to be some odd variant that the squishy people would just go nuts over.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been awake, but he was pretty sure it was nearing dawn on Naldor. He'd been fed and brought innocuous caffeine several times, which pleased him, but he hadn't been allowed out of the room for more than piss breaks. The same had been true of his teammates.

"McKay." Sheppard spoke softly.

Rodney looked over his shoulder. Teyla and Ford were asleep on cots across the room. Sheppard was lying on his side, head propped on one hand with his elbow braced on his pillow. "Why aren't you asleep?" Rodney asked.

"I could ask you the same question." Sheppard gestured at the fourth, empty cot in the corner next to his own.

Rodney stretched, hearing his shoulders pop as his muscles protested. "There was this little thing about translating some text to get us out of here?"

"You can't do that if your brain's leaking out your ears, Rodney."

"I'm caffeinated. I want to go home." He grimaced, trying to loosen the tightness in one shoulder by rotating it.

Sheppard nodded. "We'll get there."

"I know," Rodney snarked. "Because I'll be staying up until I get this project done." Sheppard sat, stretching, then got up and pulled up a chair next to Rodney. He stared at Rodney for a long moment. "What," Rodney growled.

"You're gonna burn out. You should rest."

Rodney shook his head. "No, I should finish this so we can go home. I have a problem with having to raise my hand to use the washroom. I thought I left that behind in primary school."

"McKay--"

Rodney huffed and stood. "Look Major, this is not something we can shoot our way out of, and if I do this, we may end up with a lot more information we can use. I'm the one that has to do this. I know you don't read Ancient and neither does Ford, and Teyla barely reads English yet. It's not like we've got a plethora of options here."

"I know." Sheppard took his sleeve and tugged for Rodney to sit again. "Look, I'm sorry about pissing off the Naldorans, okay? I had no idea they'd be all freaked about the shiny Ancient toys."

Rodney nodded and sat again. "Yeah. Well."

Sheppard looked up at him, eyes guarded. "You miss him, don't you?"

Rodney clamped down hard on himself, not wanting to show his loneliness. "I'm busy, Major. Do you have anything useful to say?"

"I'm not trying to imply anything," Sheppard said, "if that's what you're thinking."

"Then why are you asking?"

Sheppard sighed and lowered his eyes. "'Cuz if I had somebody to come home to, I think I'd be missing them a lot right now."

Rodney gave him a long, assessing glance. Eventually, Sheppard looked up again. "What is it with you? Always with the questions."

"Dunno. I guess maybe... well, maybe I'm a little jealous."

Rodney snorted quietly. "Captain Kirk? Jealous? Yeah, right."

"I don't have an alien in every port, you know." There was something in Sheppard's voice that stopped Rodney.

"You really are jealous? Of me?" Rodney couldn't help the astonishment in his voice. He'd never thought Sheppard would have anything but intellect to be jealous of, and the man was not nearly as dumb as he sometimes pretended.

"Yeah, maybe a little."

Rodney tilted his head, eyeing Sheppard suspiciously. "I thought you weren't into guys."

Sheppard's mouth twisted into an annoyed grimace. "I'm not, but it's the principle of the thing."

"Why are you talking about this?" Rodney leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk where he'd been working. "Last time you started talking about this, you were flirting with me."

Sheppard's scowl deepened. "Not. Flirting."

Rodney grinned. "That remains to be seen. I know you can't resist my superior genius."

"You really are delusional, you know," Sheppard said casually. "Probably why Carson likes you. You're a great case study."

Rodney chuckled. "Carson loves me because I'm a great lay."

"Oh god. I so didn't wanna know that."

Rodney grinned, triumphant. "You started this, you know. And you're keeping me from working on the translation. Time's wasting here; tick tick." He waved one finger like a metronome.

"You really do need some rest." Sheppard's eyes caught him in the dim light. "Carson'll kick my ass if I don't take care of you."

"You make me sound like Carson's pet."

Sheppard grinned. "And you're not?"

It was Rodney's turn to grimace. "Certainly not!" He crossed his arms over his chest, but the sudden motion made him lose balance with his chair tipped back on two legs. "Whoaaa!" His arms windmilled and he'd have fallen on his head if Sheppard hadn't caught the back of the chair and set him upright again.

Sheppard laughed quietly. "You need a keeper, Rodney."

"And that would be -- Carson."

"Not here now."

"That's patently obvious, Major." Rodney's shoulders slumped. He really did miss Carson. It suddenly struck him exactly how exhausted he was.

"Get some sleep, McKay." Sheppard rubbed his shoulder.

Rodney sighed, letting some of his tiredness show. "After I save our posteriors, thanks."

"Why he isn't constantly drugging your ass to make you sleep is beyond me."

Rodney let a bit of a smile twist his mouth. "He has better ways of getting me into bed."

Sheppard rolled his eyes and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "You keep saying shit like that, Rodney. It's putting totally unwanted pictures in my head."

"If you stare at the pictures long enough, you'll fall asleep," Rodney said, hoping that Sheppard might actually let him get a little more work done before he collapsed.

"Unh-unh. Time for all good little geeks to go to bed." Sheppard stood and tugged Rodney to his feet, pointing him to the cot in the corner. "Come on. Seriously. You'll think better in the morning."

Rodney sighed. He hated to admit it, but it was true. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Point." He stumbled toward the cot. "This is me going to bed. Will you leave me alone now?"

Sheppard stood over him, watching until he got into the cot and covered up with the blanket. "Close your eyes. No peeking."

"Right, mother." Rodney rolled over onto his side, facing the wall. "Yenta," he muttered.

***

Carson poked at his pillow. It wasn't like Rodney was there every night, but he was used to having the man about. How was he supposed to sleep when Rodney might be in trouble? With a sigh, he settled in and thought the lights off.

He wasn't entirely sure when his bed had begun feeling so empty without Rodney in it. Rolling to one side, he pulled his pillow to him, tucking part of it against his chest. He wondered where Rodney was now and what was happening to him.

His fingers traced the pillow, wishing it were Rodney's skin beneath them. Carson missed his warmth and the firm bulk of his lover beside him. Rodney would be muttering about work and the annoyance of dealing with idiots and complaining about the most recent movie he'd seen with the Major.

Groaning quietly, Carson tossed again, rolling over. He just couldn't get comfortable, not without knowing if Rodney was actually safe. That said, it was very late and it wasn't like he could ask anyone. Going into the Gateroom to ask the duty tech if he'd heard anything would only be pathetic.

Staring at the ceiling wasn't doing much for him, nor was the view of his wall. It was too dark to see anything out the window but the dim light of stars. Eventually he buried his face in his pillow and sequenced Wraith DNA in his head until he fell asleep.

~

The emotions were so strong sometimes that Carson couldn't look away from Rodney. They had been together for years and while they had their fights and their moments of fear and separation due to their work, they were good together. When they held each other, it was with love and confidence in one another, and even in the worst of times there was trust and respect.

Atlantis was behind them now, a commute from Earth rather than a desperate bid for survival. The windows of their home looked out over the water from Portree. Rodney insisted that if they kept a place in Skye, they should have one in Vancouver as well, and Carson was content to shuttle back and forth every so often.

Carson finally had all he'd ever wanted and more: challenging work, two lovely homes, friends and relatives and safety. And he had Rodney. Wonderful, brilliant, obnoxious, aggravating Rodney McKay, who had also found some measure of contentment in what they shared.

Rodney walked with him on the shore, looking out across the harbour to the Isle of Raasay in the distance, holding his hand. He had less hair now, and what was left was going grey, but his blue eyes were still bright and clear, his mind sharp as razors. Carson looked at him and smiled, a warmth like he'd never known filling his chest. They'd fought and struggled and nearly died more times than Carson ever wanted to remember, but this -- it was worth every moment.

~

Sighing in his sleep, Carson curled around his pillow.

***

Minister Natazh sat uncomfortably across from McKay. "And your progress?" the Naldoran asked.

McKay shook his head, waving his pen as he spoke. "Not so much. I've only had one night to work on it, and this is a variant of Ancient I haven't seen before. I don't understand why you don't just let us bring a couple of linguists over. Really, this would go much faster." He tapped his pen on the table impatiently.

"The High Council is considering your request to work on the translations at the artifact itself," Natazh said.

McKay gave Natazh the hairy eyeball. "It's about time. How do you expect me to work under these conditions?" He waved both hands, encompassing the room, and probably the rest of the planet, with his gesture. "It's appalling. Guards breathing down our necks, having to be escorted to the damned washroom. Really, you could learn a few lessons from the Athosians about how to treat a guest."

"As long as they're not learning from the Genii and the Manarans," Sheppard muttered under his breath. "Backstabbing bastards."

McKay didn't pause in his tirade, and Sheppard stopped listening. He was doing a damned fine job of cowing the Minister, really. Far be it for one flyboy Major to interrupt a genius at work. Sheppard leaned back and grinned at one of the guards, who just glared.

Ford was leaned casually against the far wall, watching everything carefully without appearing to. Teyla sat quietly, her eyes on Natazh. She looked relaxed, but the glint in her eye said she was ready to spring, a panther in motion, if a threat presented itself.

Sheppard wished for his P90. He wondered if they'd have to fight to get their equipment back before they were released. Assuming they were at all. It wasn't like they could afford to lose anything at this point. Without a ZPM, there weren't going to be any restocking options. Nobody could just fill out a requisition form.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, interrupting Rodney's rant. Sheppard wondered how Natazh managed to keep from running out of the room under the sheer speed and volume of it all. Not that Natazh had a prayer of understanding half of McKay's snark. There seemed to be an awful lot of Star Trek thrown in today. Sheppard felt it was more of a Monty Python situation, himself.

"Yes, yes, what?" Natazh snapped, gesturing to his bodyguard to open the door. A messenger stood in the hallway.

"Minister, the High Council has made its decision." He held out a sheet of paper. The bodyguard took it and handed it to Natazh.

Natazh read and then looked up. "Your request has been granted, Dr. McKay."

"Oh, good, because I was getting a little annoyed with the treatment here. By the way, I need to piss before we leave, so like give me ten minutes, okay?"

Sheppard choked back a laugh at the look on Natazh's face. Oh, this was going to be good.

***

"Do you even know if the thing is working?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney sighed and shook his head. "We went over this last night, Major. Something's broken or knocked loose or there's no power. Nothing I did got the pedestal to light up. It was hopeless, and they wouldn't let me examine it properly before they dragged me away and handed me the rubbings."

They were trudging through the woods about seven kilometres outside the city, both of them surrounded by guards. Teyla and Ford were back in the city, hostages for their good behavior. Rodney hoped Sheppard wasn't going to play hero and try to 'rescue' them before he got a good look at the pedestal again. He wanted the information in that potential database, and he'd stay here for weeks to do it if he had to.

The Naldorans were heavily armed, but that had never stopped the Major's idiotic plans before. There were moments when Rodney would swear the man had a death wish. Certainly, he'd also got them out of some really hideous, nay, mind-bogglingly impossible situations before, but there were times that Rodney just wished that Kirk would keep his phaser in his pants.

They were being treated slightly more like guests and less like prisoners now, but it was a near thing. Sort of the difference between a roach motel and flypaper, he supposed.

Rodney had managed to talk Natazh into giving him back his spiffy Ancient scanner before they'd left the city. The man had no real backbone, Rodney thought. He'd been terribly eager to get rid of Rodney, upon further contemplation. Rodney humphed and shook his head. Had the man been slightly more reasonable, Rodney was sure they'd have had a great deal to talk about, nuclear weapons excluded.

Well, okay. Maybe not C4 either.

But really? They should have treated Rodney like a visiting dignitary, if they valued knowledge and technology so highly. Being the smartest man in two galaxies was more of a burden than anyone understood. When Halling had first described the place to them, he'd been looking forward to the visit. Surely people who valued technology would have some respect for his vast intellect.

This whole getting shot at and locked up and forced to do translations thing was so beneath his dignity. Granted, most of it happened far too often, but there had to be some people in this insane galaxy who weren't just looking for an excuse to knife you in the back. Or suck your life out of you through the palms of their hands. Whichever.

Rodney wondered if Daniel Jackson ever had to deal with losers like Natazh. Probably. Except they were far more megalomaniacal and entirely badly dressed. The Goa'uld were notorious for lousy wardrobes and melodrama.

Rodney chuckled.

"What?" Sheppard asked.

"Oh, nothing," Rodney said. "Badly dressed aliens, that's all."

Sheppard looked at him like his brains had just leaked out his ears. He shook his head. "McKay, are you on drugs or what?"

"I'd like to be on coffee," Rodney said. "But for that, we'd have to have a ZedPM and regular contact with Earth. Funny how that works, wouldn't you say?"

"You are on drugs." Sheppard's voice was low, but he was grinning.

A few more minutes of walking brought them to the small circular building that housed the pedestal. "Here," Jaron said. Natazh's supervising minion was a young man, maybe in his early 30s, with blond hair and a severe, high-collared grey uniform.

"Yes, thank you, I'm sure none of us would recognize this as the only building around," Rodney said.

Sheppard elbowed him. "McKay," he said quietly, "they do still have guns."

"True." Rodney sighed. He had about a third of the inscription translated, but he wasn't sure the rubbings were entirely accurate. He hoped that being able to examine the pedestal again more closely would result in a little more clarity. He pulled the scanner from his pocket and checked the readings. "Not that it really matters. They want to know what this says as much as I do."

"Yeah," Sheppard said, "but you don't have to be able to walk to do that."

Rodney blinked, not having really considered that option.

"I really think you should focus upon the task at hand," Jaron said.

"Yes, right, focusing." Rodney ignored everyone around him, putting his entire attention on reading the various scanner indications. "There's power here," he said after a few minutes. "It's underground, but here. That means there's something wrong with the pedestal itself."

"Where is this power source you're speaking of?" Jaron asked, peering over Rodney's shoulder.

Rodney poked him. "Don't crowd me. It's somewhere under the building, about a hundred metres down." He looked over at Sheppard. "Don't tell me we're dealing with more secret underground bunkers here, please." Turning back to Jaron he asked, "Are you sure the Genii aren't hanging around? I mean, they do the secret underground bunker thing really well."

"Not so much," Sheppard said.

"Well, okay," Rodney agreed. "They did sort of leave the secret entrance unlocked and everything."

Jaron was staring at them, his eyes wide with something that might have been astonishment, or perhaps just disbelief. "You have been inside the Genii sanctuary?"

Rodney and Sheppard stared at each other for a moment. "Um, what's the prize for the right answer?" Sheppard asked.

"Not much of a sanctuary, if you're looking at the whole radiation thing," Rodney muttered.

"Radiation?" Jaron sounded confused.

Rodney nodded. "Well, yeah. There's the whole thing about radiation sickness. You know -- hair falling out, nausea, skin lesions, that kind of thing. But of course if you manage to survive that, you're not gonna be popping out the kids anytime soon, or if you do, they're gonna be hideously deformed from radiation spawned mutations."

Jaron just blinked. "The Genii are not deformed. You are obviously lying."

Rodney shrugged. "Hey, it's their nads, not mine." Obviously, everyone in the Pegasus galaxy was brain damaged. There was no other explanation.

"I wonder how the power got down there?" Jaron muttered, ignoring Rodney. "There must be an entrance to the generators somewhere."

"Yeah, maybe," Rodney said, "but if there is, it's likely to be at least ten thousand years old. You guys would have found it by now if it was anything even close to obvious."

Jaron nodded. "Yes, yes. Of course. Which just means we must seek in more subtle ways." He looked up at Rodney. "So, you will do more work on the translations and on repairing the device."

"It's not like I have much of a choice, now, is it?" Rodney growled. "So open the damned door already."

Jaron produced a key and opened the building. He led Rodney and the others inside.

The readings changed once they entered the building. Rodney could see that power actually did run up into the pedestal, which meant something was disconnected or broken. He thought he'd check with Sheppard just in case. "You wanna touch that and see if anything happens?" Rodney asked, nudging Sheppard's elbow with his own.

The Major nodded. "Sure thing." He walked to the pedestal and stood behind it, laying his hands on it. Closing his eyes, he focused, but nothing happened. When he opened his eyes he shook his head. "Sorry, McKay. Dead as a doornail."

"That's what I figured." Rodney sighed. "That means I'm gonna have to get into its guts somehow."

"You might want to finish the translation first," Sheppard said. "Maybe there's some instructions or something."

Rodney glowered at the Major. "No, I thought I'd just stick my hands into it without taking any precautions. The concept of RTFM never crossed my mind."

Jaron gave him a puzzled look. "RTFM?"

"Read The Fucking Manual." Rodney snorted and turned to examine the writing on the pedestal.

"Just trying to help." Sheppard shook his head and took a seat nearby, under the watchful eyes of their guards.

"Yeah, well you can help by shutting up and not distracting me."

"Is he always like this?" Rodney heard Jaron ask Sheppard quietly.

"Yep, pretty much," Sheppard said.

"And you have not shot him?"

Rodney turned to them. "Oh please. Working here. Shut up."

Sheppard shrugged. "I did once."

Jaron's eyes widened. Rodney snorted. "Like it did any good. I was invulnerable at the time."

"In the leg," Sheppard added.

"Major!"

"Come on, Rodney, get on with it so we can go home or something." Sheppard grinned at him.

Rodney grumbled and turned back to his examination of the inscriptions. As he'd suspected, the rubbings were slightly blurred. It had created a few puzzles where none should have existed, though the variant of Ancient was still not what he knew. "Damn, I wish I had a linguist. Elizabeth would be able to do this with both eyes tied behind her back."

"So not going there," Sheppard said.

Rodney sighed, trying to ignore the distractions, and got down to work.

***

"So," Radek said, "it is a database, just as he suspected."

Dr. Weir nodded. "Yes, if his translations are correct. Unfortunately, he's not certain, but the evidence points that way. If the Naldorans would just let him send a copy of the inscription, we could have the linguistics department on it and know for sure, but they're being extremely guarded about everything."

Kavanagh cleared his throat and cleaned his glasses on his shirt, setting them back on his nose with a flourish. "If they'd let a few of us through, we could get it up and working in no time. I've been going over the schematics for the pedestal here, and I think I've got an idea of what's wrong with theirs."

"Please get a report for me by this afternoon, Dr. Kavanagh," Dr. Weir said. "I'll see if we can have it sent to Rodne