jujitsuelf

Humans, especially humans born on Earth, were very indecisive, Atlantis decided. Some of them had problems deciding what flavor jello to have, so expecting them to be able to make a firm decision regarding relationships was probably asking a little too much.

She’d watched Rodney McKay pace up and down his room for two solid hours. Occasionally he’d nod and mutter to himself, once he stopped and turned toward the door, only to begin pacing again a moment later.

Even if she hadn’t been able to read his thoughts, Atlantis thought perhaps she would have been able to figure out what was troubling the good doctor. As it was, a constant stream of ‘should I go see him? Should I just walk in and kiss him? Oh God, do I have to talk about feelings? How will he react? What do I do if he punches me? At least I know for certain that he does have some kind of feelings for me...’ type thoughts battered at her consciousness. If she were human, she suspected that she would have a headache by now.

Resisting the urge to gently nudge McKay toward going to see Sheppard wasn’t easy. But resist she did, as she kept telling herself, the Lanteans hadn’t intended her to be a matchmaker. This strange desire to see two of her new occupants happy in each other’s company was completely new to her. Perhaps being alone for so long had corrupted some of her programming. Or perhaps having so much life within her after being frozen and barren for thousands of years was a little overwhelming. Maybe some of that life and vitality was transferring to her. She wasn’t certain she liked the idea of becoming less virtual and more human. Humans were...messy, volatile, unpredictable...addictive.

McKay gave an exhausted sigh and sank down onto his bed. “Okay, I know this is a long shot and it’s probably one of the saddest things a man can do, but Atlantis, if you can hear me, I need help. Actually, I think I need an agony aunt, can you do that?”

‘I do not think that phrase is contained within my vocabulary, Doctor McKay,’ Atlantis replied, perplexed. ‘How will contacting a relative who is in pain aid you?’

“No, no,” McKay groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “I need someone to talk to about,” he shuddered dramatically, “relationships.”

‘Thank you, Doctor. I understand now,’ Atlantis said, although she still didn’t understand the significance of talking to an aunt rather than anyone else. ‘I am programmed to listen, if you would care to speak of your problem?’

“It’s not a problem,” McKay instantly said, pulling the pillow away from his face. “It’s more...a conflict. I’m conflicted. See, because of that stupid chair I know Sheppard likes me, or at least thinks about me as maybe more than just a friend, and I sure as hell know I think about him as more than a friend and I don’t know what to do about it. Every time I think I’ve decided what to do, another variable presents itself and...I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a coward. On the one hand I think the direct approach might work best with him, but on the other I know he’s an expert at hiding what he’s thinking, so would he react better to a slow and subtle type of thing?” He groaned again and shook his head. “Help me.”

‘Doctor McKay,’ Atlantis said, wondering why humans, especially human males, found relationships so complex. ‘If I may speak freely, I think that Major Sheppard is ready to hear that you have strong feelings for him. I do not wish to betray him by repeating things which have passed through his mind, but, I think he may be receptive to the idea of a relationship.’

“So you think I should just go see him and tell him I’ve been dreaming about jumping his bones for months?” McKay’s face took on an almost pathetically hopeful expression.

Atlantis smiled to herself. She really was rather fond of McKay, for all his neuroses and snappy nature. ‘I think that perhaps if you explained the situation regarding the chair and the things it showed you, Major Sheppard may begin to understand.’

“Crap,” McKay wrinkled his nose. “This is going to entail talking about feelings. Just kill me now. Actually, wait, that wasn’t an order, please don’t kill me.”

‘Have no fear, Doctor, I will not harm you,’ Atlantis said, amused. ‘But I think perhaps the time has come to explain your feelings to Major Sheppard. I feel that you will both benefit from, how do you say it, clearing the air between you?’

“Okay,” McKay said and rubbed his eyes. “I can do this. I’m a genius for God’s sake, I can deal with one little conversation.”

Heaving himself to his feet, he barreled out of the door before he allowed himself to think of changing his mind. Atlantis had to admire him, once Rodney McKay decided on a course of action, he’d allow very little to sway him from it. Whether this course was the right one or not, remained to be seen.

# # #

Sheppard was stretched out on his bed, trying and failing to read the enormous book he’d brought with him from Earth. Atlantis watched as he re-read page forty-seven for the third time, then put the tome down with a heartfelt sigh.

When his door chime sounded, he looked up, surprised and a little annoyed to be disturbed when he was technically off duty. Of course, ‘off duty’ was relative in the Pegasus galaxy, no-one was ever really excluded from duty, regardless of how many hours they’d already put in that week or how exhausted they were.

Atlantis glanced at Rodney, standing outside the door with his hands pushed deep into his pockets, trying to ignore how sweaty his palms suddenly were and the way his stomach was bubbling with nerves.

Well, she’d done all she could, she’d shown them the feelings they were both hiding, now it was up to them. She knew she should withdraw, allow the two men to talk and decide how to proceed in privacy. But somehow she felt invested in their futures, after watching them dance around each other for so long, it seemed wrong to miss the moment when they realized that their longings could become reality.

Sheppard opened the door and raised his eyebrows when he saw Rodney there. Rodney took half a step back as though preparing to flee. Atlantis winced, surely he wouldn’t lose his nerve, not now, not when he was so close.

“I know what the chair does,” Rodney said, the words tumbling out of his mouth in more of a rush than usual. “I figured it out. Well, Atlantis helped. She, er, showed me some stuff too.”

“Oh.” Sheppard stepped aside to allow Rodney into his room. “Cool. So what’s it for? Was I right, Mirror of Erised?”

“Kind of,” Rodney frowned. Atlantis heard him frantically thinking, trying to find a way to explain his own visions. “Uh, I saw things as well, I sat in the chair too.”

“So what did you see?” Sheppard flopped back down onto his bed and waved Rodney to a chair. Atlantis caught herself admiring the lean lines of Sheppard’s body, and instantly wondered whether she’d been spending too much time in McKay’s head.

“That’s the tricky part,” Rodney said slowly, his gaze fixed on his shoes.

“As in...what?” Sheppard said, interest flaring in his eyes.

Rodney coughed and cleared his throat. “As in, it showed me things that I would, if faced with Ascension, hold on to in order to remain in my human form, things I wouldn’t want to give up. I suppose you could say the chair showed me the things I love. Atlantis said they were the things which make me human.”

Moving slowly, his face thoughtful and wary, Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “An Ascension device. Crap, the Ancients were obsessed with Ascending, weren’t they?”

“So obsessed they put more energy into researching that than they did fighting the Wraith,” Rodney agreed, shaking his head sadly. “But I suppose if they’d all Ascended, they could have defeated the Wraith with the power of thought, or whatever it is you can do when you’re made of pure energy.”

Sheppard swallowed and sniffed uncomfortably. “So, the things you saw projected in that smoky stuff...they were the things that I wouldn’t want to give up, right?”

Rodney raised his eyebrows and opened and closed his mouth a few times.

‘Go on’, Atlantis urged him. ‘Tell him the truth, tell him how you feel.’ Something almost like excitement surged through her, they were so close, just a few more words...

“I should go.” Rodney stood and turned toward the door, his eyes wide and panic stricken. The resolve which had sustained him this far crumbled, taking his courage with it.

Atlantis sighed, how would they ever come to understand the depth of one another’s feelings if they were incapable of talking?

“What did you see?” Sheppard spoke softly, looking down at his hands as though by not making eye contact with Rodney, he could pretend that it wasn’t actually him talking. “In the chair, what did you see?”

Rodney stopped, puffed out a deep breath and said, “Atlantis, my sister, myself getting a Nobel, Sam Carter...” he swung round and glared at Sheppard, who had snorted with laughter. “Oh, and a kid’s theme park ride is the most logical thing to want to hang on to. What is it with you and Ferris wheels?”

“They remind me,” Sheppard replied, still quiet and controlled, “of being a kid. My brother used to take me to the fair during the summer, before our mom died. After she was gone, we kinda...stopped doing anything. Maybe seeing me happy reminded Dave of Mom too much.” He shrugged, deliberately careless. “Anyway, Ferris wheels still make me think of good times.”

Atlantis felt Sheppard’s pain and Rodney’s helplessness. Humans were strange creatures, she decided. Hopelessly strong and terrifyingly brave at times, at others lost and bewildered by their own existence. They were paradoxes, each and every one of them.

“I’m sorry,” Rodney managed. “Didn’t know.”

“That’s because I never told you,” Sheppard said evenly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t tend to go talking about myself much.” He sighed and Atlantis felt him push away grief which he’d never really taken the time to deal with. She almost ached to speak to him, comfort him in some way, but no, that wasn’t her role. Rodney should be the one to do that.

“So, what else did you see? The chair showed me five things and you only mentioned four. Although knowing your ego, you probably saw the Nobel thing twice.” Sheppard grinned to show he didn’t really mean the insult.

Rodney pouted and glared for a moment, then smiled. “That might have been nice, but no, the other thing I saw was you.” His face was for once unreadable, but Atlantis heard his heart beating so fast and hard, she worried for his health.

“Oh.” Sheppard was suddenly very still, as though carved from stone.

“Yeah,” Rodney said breathlessly.

“Right.” Sheppard still didn’t move, though his eyes were firmly fixed on Rodney’s.

“Indeed.” Rodney gazed back like a rabbit hypnotized by approaching car headlights.

“We’re using one word sentences.”

“So we are.”

“I’m bad at talking.”

“I’m terrible with people.”

“I leave clothes on the bathroom floor.”

“I don’t sleep much and I think I hog the covers.”

“I snore.”

“I can’t talk in the morning till I get coffee.”

“That’d be a relief.”

“I hate you.”

Sheppard moved, one minute he was on the bed and the next he was crowding Rodney up against the wall. Rodney allowed himself to be manhandled with no protest.

Atlantis focused all of her energy on the two of them. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment, the Wraith and the rest of her inhabitants could take care of themselves for a minute. Somehow, what was happening between John and Rodney was so much more important.

“No, you don’t.” Sheppard’s voice was low and husky and filled with more desire than Atlantis had ever heard in her thousands of years of existence. “I think you like me. An’ you know somethin’? I think I like you.”

There was dead silence for a split second before both men leaned forward simultaneously and kissed each other. Atlantis quickly looked away. She’d done what she wanted to, they’d worked out how they felt, the messy part they could do on their own.