Series: Moments Sacred and Profane

Title: MSP2: Playing the Odds

Author: Mice

email: just_us_mice@yahoo.com

Category: Stargate: Atlantis, McKay/Beckett

Warnings: slash, angst

Spoilers: none

Rating: PG

Summary: Some rough waters for Carson and Rodney.

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

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

Mirror: http://mice.inkpress.org

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. Honest. I'm just playing with them for a while. I'll put them back when I'm done. They may be slightly worse for wear.

Author's Notes: This wasn't the story I'd originally intended to tell at this point, but I can do that one as the third in the series.

 

~~~~~

 

Playing the Odds

 

It had been over two weeks since Rodney'd made that pass at him. He'd responded right enough, and it seemed like things had gone well. It had felt good, really -- for both of them, he'd thought -- but when he woke Rodney was gone. That hadn't been the end of it, though.

 

McKay was avoiding him. Carson only saw him at mandatory physicals after missions, and at staff meetings, and Rodney had looked exhausted. He wondered what had gone wrong. Maybe it had just been too much, too soon, or maybe it hadn't been so good as he'd thought, or -- it could have been a thousand things, really. Rodney's moods could be unpredictable at the best of times, though irritability seemed an immutable personality component. He was disappointed but supposed he shouldn't be surprised.

 

The lack of conversation bothered him, though. Rodney barely spoke to him now, even when it was required. He'd look away when he said anything, or careen off like some bloody pinball hitting an invisible post when he saw Carson coming. That hurt, and people had been noticing -- the avoidance at least, not his reaction to it. Much as he thought he'd hate to admit it, he missed Rodney's company.

 

He hadn't been expecting Dr. Weir to call him into her office over the mess, either.

 

There was a serious, worried expression on her face that wrinkled her eyes. "Carson, what's going on between you and Rodney? I can't get him to say a word about it, and this is starting to get ridiculous." She leaned forward over her desk, hands folded before her. "I need my senior staff to be able to work together, and that's just not happening right now. It's disrupting operations. Major Sheppard says McKay's been uncommunicative and distracted. It's putting the team in danger and John is about to have him suspended from missions until this is resolved."

 

Carson nodded, shocked. He hadn't known the situation was that serious, though he was aware things had been tense. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "I'm pretty sure I know what it's about, but I'm at a wee bit of a loss for what to do if he won't even speak to me."

 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Her gaze was sharp but kind and he could see her desire was genuine. Things were worse than he'd imagined. Not that she could do any good.

 

"Not really." He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, putting a little distance between them. "It's not a thing anyone else could do anything about right now. I guess I'll just have to try harder. I'd been thinking that if I gave him some time he'd get over it, you know?" He hoped his voice wasn't giving too much away. After he'd been rebuffed a few times he hadn't made a lot of effort to face Rodney. He genuinely had been hoping that, given a few days or a week, the banter would be back and they could just pretend nothing had happened.

 

"Whatever you two said to each other, it must have caused a spectacular explosion. I've never seen him avoid anyone this way, not even Kavanagh."

 

"If everyone who disliked Kavanagh avoided him, he'd have to Gate to work," Carson said.

 

Weir smiled and chuckled quietly. "I'm not going there. As much of a pain as he is, Kavanagh's an expert at what he does, or he wouldn't be here."

 

"True, but he's almost as much fun to bait as McKay." He grinned back at her, relieved to have deflected the discussion, even if it might be only temporary. "Less sense of humor though." He folded his arms over his chest and shook his head.

 

"So you'll talk to him?"

 

"Aye, I'll give it a try at least."

 

"Thank you, Carson."

 

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'll do what I can."

 

"If you can think of anything that might help, let me know." She raised her hand toward the door, dismissing him.

 

Strapping Rodney down where he couldn't avoid the conversation came to mind, but he kept it to himself. "I shall."

 

Now he just had to come up with a way to get Rodney alone.

 

~~~~~

 

It was well past midnight when he stood at the door of Rodney's lab. It wasn't like the man used his quarters very often. He spent too much time in the lab between missions, obsessed with his work and unable to resist the call of the Ancient technology's mysteries. If the missions didn't kill him, his habits surely would.

 

Carson's heart was pounding as he took a breath, steeling himself to open the door. It was unlikely there would be anyone else around this late. All the sane folk not on night watch had gone to bed a couple of hours ago.

 

The door slid open with a soft sound. He stepped inside just knowing he was going to get his head bit clean off.

 

Silence greeted him, so he looked around.

 

Rodney was sitting at a lab table, face half-buried in his arms, his nose resting on a small Ancient device. Quiet snoring made it obvious he was asleep. He still looked exhausted, with a tool loosely caught between slack fingers.

 

Carson stood for a moment, just watching him. He was seriously tempted to just let Rodney sleep. It was obvious he needed it. Unfortunately, if he let this opportunity go, he wasn't sure when he'd catch another.

 

He approached with silent steps. Reaching out, he laid a gentle hand on Rodney's shoulder. He could feel the tension in the warm, still body, remembering how he'd touched his friend the last time they were together. The sleeper didn't stir.

 

"Rodney." His voice was soft and tentative. "Rodney." He squeezed just a little, carefully.

 

With a snort, Rodney started awake. "Damn it Kavanagh, I was just--" Rodney's face turned toward Carson and his eyes widened. He jolted to his feet. "What are *you* doing here? Go away. Leave me alone." He was bristling with anger, pricklier than a rolled-up hedgehog.

 

"Rodney, we have to talk."

 

"I should think it would be clear to even your pinheaded lack of intelligence that I don't want to talk to you." He started toward the door, dragging Carson with him.

 

Carson dug in his heels and pulled back. "We can't avoid this any longer, Rodney. Elizabeth practically ordered me to talk to you. We have to resolve this, one way or another."

 

Rodney stopped and blinked. "She did?"

 

"Aye, she did."

 

"Why?" An edge of panic was in his eyes. "What the hell did you tell her?"

 

"Nothing. I didn't tell her anything at all. It's not any of her business now, is it?" At least he hadn't been summarily ejected from the lab yet.

 

"I have nothing to say." Rodney's blue eyes hardened. His fingers tightened on Carson's arm.

 

"We have to. We don't have a choice."

 

"And why, pray tell, not?"

 

"Because it's lookin' like Sheppard's going to pull you from the Gate team if you keep on like this."

 

Rodney leaned back against a table, shocked. "You can't be serious."

 

Carson sighed. "Do you really think I'd make that up?"

 

Rodney stared at him for a moment then shook his head. "No," he mumbled. "No, you wouldn't." His hand fell from Carson's arm.

 

"Then I think we'd best talk." He gestured to the chairs.

 

"Coffee first." Rodney went over to the coffee machine, but the last of the liquid was down to burnt-smelling dregs. "Ugh. Give me a minute. I need to make some more."

 

"So long as you intend to talk. But we could get some in the mess hall and not have to wait so long."

 

"We can't talk there."

 

Carson snorted. "I didn't say we had to now, did I? We can talk anywhere you like."

 

"Okay." Rodney spun and charged out the door, Carson close on his heels. He didn't want to have to chase him down if he got out of sight. Who knew where he might hide if he changed his mind about talking.

 

They covered quite a distance in just a few minutes, but the pace was insane for the hour. "Slow down a wee bit, would you?" He didn't see any reason they should be dashing down the corridor if there wasn't an emergency.

 

Rodney stopped dead in his tracks, and Carson narrowly avoided colliding with him. "Get off my back, Beckett." The demand was harsh and raw through clenched teeth, despite the quietness of his voice.

 

"Easy now, Rodney." He raised his hands in a calming gesture, doing his best to hold onto his irritation. Showing it would only make things worse. "I don't know what's goin' on in that head of yours, but I'm not your enemy. I thought we were friends." Rodney looked away then started to turn away, but Carson put a hand on his arm. "Please, Rodney, don't." His fingers tightened slightly.

 

"I don't know what to do." Rodney was still turned away, but the waver in his voice was enough that Carson didn't need to see his face.

 

"You could start by telling me what went wrong," Carson said softly.

 

"Not here," Rodney insisted. "Coffee first. I'm about to pass out from low blood sugar."

 

"Right, then. Coffee." He walked beside Rodney as they entered the mess hall. Several of the night shift crew turned to look at them, then went back to their food.

 

He watched as Rodney got his coffee and laid on the sugar with a heavy hand. He stuffed a small muffin in his mouth as well. Carson's own brew was light but not very sweet.

 

"Where do you want to talk?" he asked, as they walked back out the mess hall door. Rodney sipped the hot liquid without saying anything. They took a different corridor this time, so he knew they weren't going back to the lab. A few minutes later, they were at the door to Rodney's quarters.

 

Carson was surprised, but took it in stride. Maybe Rodney would feel a little safer talking here, though he knew the man's seat of power was really in the lab.

 

"Too much chance of somebody coming into the lab, even at this time of night," Rodney said as he opened the door. He waved a hand and Carson entered first.

 

Like his own quarters, Rodney's had a small sitting room and a big window open to the sea and the stars. Rodney sat on the couch and Carson settled beside him, on the opposite end. He waited.

 

They sat for a long time in silence, both of them sipping coffee. Rodney didn't look at him, so Carson watched Rodney instead. He was looking a wee bit peaked, really. A little paler than usual too, with dull dark rings under his eyes from exhaustion.

 

About the time Carson finished his cup, Rodney looked up at him. "It was a mistake," he said.

 

Carson's stomach knotted and he crossed his arms over it and shifted uncomfortably. He thought it must have been something like that, but didn't like hearing it. "Why?"

 

"I don't really want to talk about it."

 

"I know that, but we can't keep on like this. Folks are confused, Rodney. Weir wants to know why you're avoiding me. Sheppard's not taking this all too well either, it seems. It's gone way beyond not talking to me -- it's like you're hardly there. Elizabeth says you're so distracted you're endangering your team."

 

Rodney closed his eyes, body tightening. "I know."

 

For Rodney to admit anything of the sort was extraordinary. "What can we do -- what can I do to try and sort this? We still have to be able to work together. It's not like I can transfer away."

 

"It's not your fault." Rodney's eyes were still closed. It was just another way of denying they were having the conversation, he thought. He'd let it pass for now. He knew he had his friend's attention.

 

"Then what happened? I don't understand."

 

Rodney took a deep breath and opened his eyes, finally looking straight at Carson. "I'm not... I don't..." He huffed and shook his head, taking it between both hands as though it hurt. "Look, the fact is, I've never been with anybody more than once. It's just... easier to avoid the disappointment. It sounded like you wanted... well, like you might want to try it again."

 

"Was it that bad?" Carson couldn't help the question. It just fell from his mouth and lay there. Male ego, he supposed. Were he any more embarrassed, he'd likely blush.

 

"No," Rodney said. He closed his eyes again. "You have no idea how much I needed that."

 

That didn't sound near so bad as Carson had been expecting. He moved his arms and shifted again, moving a little closer. "If it wasn't that--"

 

"The likelihood of anyone wanting to stay with me -- I calculated the odds once. It was several billion to one against. On Earth, anyway. The pool here is much smaller, of course, but the results are comparable." The anger in Rodney's eyes was searing. Carson flinched. "I figured it was better to leave than be left, okay?"

 

God, what kind of horror had happened to Rodney that he felt this way? "That's not rational, Rodney. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

 

"I just told you."

 

Carson shifted a bit closer and reached out, tentatively resting a hand on Rodney's knee. He wasn't sure if this would be the right thing to say, but he had to say it. "Listen to me." He kept his eyes on Rodney's as he spoke. "I think you need to hear this. I... I was disappointed when I woke up, 'cause you were gone. I enjoyed what we'd had that night and I'd rather been hoping you might want to give it another go when we woke." He lowered his eyes at his confession. It hadn't been easy. Rodney remained silent, his breathing slightly louder. "I'm not really one for a quickie and then away to never see the bloke again. It's not like I was expectin' anything much, but just maybe we could be a little closer friends than before -- see each other like that sometimes."

 

He could feel Rodney's muscles tighten under his palm, and heard the rough catch of his breath.

 

"I thought that avoiding you would be for the best," Rodney said. "Maybe I was... uh... wrong."

 

Carson looked back up at him. "Even if that never happens again, we still need to be able to work together."

 

"I know. I'll deal with it." Sincerity was written on Rodney's face. Things he'd seen of Rodney lately were changing his opinions of the man in surprising ways. So much of this had been fear. He wondered again what had happened in his friend's past that left him so cautious and untrusting.

 

"Will you promise me, then? I don't want to see you hurt by this, nor taken off the team." He squeezed Rodney's knee gently and let go.

 

Rodney nodded. "I promise, okay?"

 

"All right." Carson stood. "Thanks." He turned to go.

 

"Carson, wait." Rodney stood as well.

 

Carson turned back to look at him.

 

"I'll see you later." A slight, uneasy smile crossed Rodney's face, lightening his eyes.

 

Carson smiled back at him. "Right then. Later."

 

~~fin~~