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By C. L. Combs |
Rating: If you are
capable of finding this story, you are mature enough to read it. There is some violence, no sex or excessively
bad language, nothing out of line with any of the stories used in this
Crossover. Probably
PG-13/T due to the violence.
Authors note: First off, this plot bunny was started as an answer
to a challenge on the Crossgate list. Now, I normally don’t do challenges; it’s a
matter of too many bunnies and too little time.
However, this one caught my attention as a fun one to do. Unfortunately, it took me forever to write,
and I have forgotten who originally issued the challenge. I’ve been in one long dry spell, and one of
the few stories I was able to poke at was this one.
Secondly, for those who keep
track, this story is set in the Stargate:Atlantis
universe just after Siege III, and for Due South, well, I keep trying to
pretend the last episode didn’t happen <grin>. Oh, and there is some Stargate
SG1 as well.
Thirdly, I want to thank Shallan, Sealie, and LoriW for looking at this story in it’s
various stages for beta'ing. They are a great trio of friends. And
special thanks to Teri for posting and being List Mom for the Crossgate list.
And finally, I wish to
dedicate this story to two very special canine friends. My black lab mix Luck, who passed away about
a year ago after spending over 15 wonderful years as my dearest companion. And to my new, two-year-old, southern hound
dog, who I hope to share my life with for numerous years into the future.
Disclaimer: Most of characters are not mine. I'm borrowing them
out of deep reverence, affection and respect. I will accept only personal
fulfillment, and no monetary gain. If you do sue, you will not get much and I
will send over my hound, who will take up most of your
couch and move slower than any other dog on the face of the planet when he
doesn’t want to do something.
Please do not post,
reproduce, copy, or otherwise use any part of this story without permission
from the author. A copy for personal use
is acceptable.
Feedback: Please send any comments to [email protected]
Enjoy the ride.
Rather
be in Atlantis by C. L. Combs
Past and Future Technology convention,
Dr. Rodney McKay savored a
bite of honest-to-god, made-in-Chicago, deep dish pizza. The thick, raised crust was made with real
wheat flour, unlike crust made with Athosian nut
flour that didn’t rise and left hard pieces. The pepperoni had the right spicy
bite and origins that weren’t a mystery. The sauce was made with ripe, red
tomatoes, not purple Incey fruits. And the cheese was true mozzarella and
parmesan cheese, not some smelly creation that came from the milk of a red,
goat-like creature. Never had pizza
tasted so good.
McKay closed his eyes,
taking in the full pleasure of the tastes blending in his mouth. The tensions of the past two days seemed to
flow out of his shoulders.
He opened his eyes to look
over the crowded convention floor below him.
Scientists from a variety of disciplines wandered between display
booths, dressed in a range from business suits to jeans and sweaters. The low murmur of voices floated up to his
second floor seat. All around him was the meeting of intellectual minds,
discussing and arguing. It was an environment where he once thrived.
It was finally sinking
in. He was on Earth and only a day’s
drive from where he was born. Yesterday
had been the first time he’d been to
Then why didn’t he feel like
he was home?
He shoved the unproductive
thought firmly out his head as he finished eating. He was on Earth for only a few weeks; he
should savor the time just as much as the pizza.
There was a lot to do
between picking up requests for his team back on Atlantis and recruiting new
scientists. He had already talked with
one potential this morning. The young
engineer had seemed eager, even with the scanty details Rodney could provide
him about the classified work. The fact
that he had been willing to meet him two days earlier than expected was also a
point in his favor. Rodney had seven
more scientists to meet tomorrow at pre-arranged times. By moving the appointment, the following day
would be free to explore
Perhaps that was why he felt
out of place. He had grown used to
Sheppard, Ford and Teyla watching his back as he
explored new places. It wasn’t as
comfortable to be alone as it used to be.
Of course, he didn’t need them here.
This was Earth. It should be a
cakewalk compared to the Pegasus galaxy.
He took a deep breath and walked towards the stairs.
The floor was crowded. Rodney hated to admit it, but it was unnerving
to be surrounded by people he didn’t recognize.
He’d never felt that way before, but perhaps spending months around the
same faces affected him more than he’d realized. Then he internally shook
himself. It was time to focus his genius mind on something else. He raised his head and step up to one of the
displays.
He walked through the ‘New Engery for the Future’ section. On the fifth display about creating energy
from garbage, Rodney snorted. Too bad
his naquadah generators were classified; they’d
easily outclass these prototypes.
He turned the corner to
discover a row of Roman and Greek artifacts.
Smirking to himself as he read the sign declaring, ‘Technological
Wonders of the Ancient World’, he couldn’t help but think of the Ancient
wonders he worked with every day. He
shuffled along with the crowd, his gaze skimming along each booth as he tried
to kept his boredom in check.
Suddenly, his eyes landed on
a round device about the size of a softball in a display case. Its grey metal, undamaged by age, had evenly
spaced indentations. Around the center
was writing. Rodney sucked in a breath,
trying to push down the rush of excitement.
He couldn’t see it clearly, but it looked like the Ancient’s language. He had to see that ball.
He pushed close to the
table, stopping in front of the person manning the booth. He waved a hand in the young man’s face. Once he had his attention, he pointed at the
ball. “What’s that?”
The kid squinted where he
pointed. “That? Oh, Professor Craig picked that up during a
dig outside of
“Can I see it out of the
case?” Rodney asked, nearly bouncing in anticipation to see the writing.
“No,” the kid replied
firmly.
Rodney blinked. “Why not? It’s right there. I think it could match up with some of my own
research. I really need to see it up
close to tell.”
“Dr. Craig said everything
has to stay locked up,” the kid explained.
“He’s had a lot of thefts recently.
I don’t even have the key.”
Puzzled, Rodney glanced
around the booth. It looked like regular
archeology trifle to him, with the only exception being the ball. “Why would anyone want to steal his artifacts?”
The kid shrugged. “He’s real excited about his finds. Thinks they show that the
Greeks were more advanced than we thought.”
“Is he here? I’d like to speak with him.”
“No, he’s back at the
lab. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
Rodney held back his temper
with difficulty. Outside of breaking the display case, which would bring
unwanted attention to the ball, there was little he could do. Unfortunately, his schedule was tight
tomorrow. He was going to have to call
for reinforcements. “Can I at least have
his card?”
The kid handed him a
business card. Pushing through the
crowd, Rodney found a relatively quiet spot next to the wall. Still eyeing the booth, he pulled out his
cell phone and punched in Daniel Jackson’s number.
“
“It’s McKay. I’m in
“I thought you were staying
in
“Change in plans,” Rodney
returned shortly, not wanting to remember. Spotting the kid at the booth
staring suspiciously, he turned into the wall to hide his words. “I’ve found
something here in the display by a Dr. Michael Craig on Classical Greek
technology. It’s a ball that doesn’t
look like it belongs in a Classical Greek site, and while I can’t get close enough
to read the writing, it appears like it might be, ah, that language you taught
me.”
Daniel easily followed the
Rodney’s meaning. “Can you get closer?”
“No, it’s locked down
tight. Apparently the good doctor’s
paranoid about thieves. He’s supposed to
be here tomorrow, but I have those interviews...”
“I’ll fly up,” Daniel
replied. “What else can you tell me?”
Rodney quickly ran down the
information on the card and described the ball.
“Have you seen anything like
it before?” Daniel asked.
“The metal appears to be of the
same origins as those artifacts I’ve worked with during the past year,” Rodney
replied, mindful of the unsecured line. He rubbed his forehead, the long night
of driving catching up. “But without
getting closer, it’s hard to tell.”
Something in his voice
caught Daniel’s attention. “Rodney, are
you okay? You’re supposed to be
relaxing.”
“I am relaxing!” Rodney
snapped.
“Rodney…”
“I’m fine!” Realizing how bad that sounded, he took a
deep breath. In a calmer voice, he
continued, “I’m not working on anything, no one’s trying to kill me, and I had
my first slice of real pizza in eons.”
“Right.” Daniel didn’t
sound convinced, but he didn’t push it.
“Anyway, I’ll contact you when I get there.”
“Good.” After a few more words, McKay hung up. Sighing, he found an opening and re-entered the
flow of people.
He had barely taken a couple
of steps when he was shoved to the side, thrown into a woman in pink nearly
twice his size. Screaming, the woman pulled him to the ground with her. Others
fell around them, arms frantically waving in the vain attempt to remain
upright.
Dodging flying elbows,
Rodney sat up to see three young men shoving people out of their way. Wearing tattered t-shirts and jeans, their
spiky hair was dyed various shades of green, pink and blue with faces painted
to match. They had just reached the
booth with the possible Ancient device when he was whacked in the face. “Hey!
Watch it!” he
added to the general bedlam. Blinking,
he saw one of the punks break the glass display and reach for the ball. Rodney scrambled to his feet, accidentally
stepping on someone’s hand. “Sorry! Not
my fault!” he shouted back. Through the
people, he spied the punks running, the police sweeping through the crowd, and
the suspicious ball rolling towards his boots.
Amazed at his change in
fortune, Rodney leaned down to pick it up.
If he read fast, he could determine if it was Ancient, and if the
results were positive, return it to the booth and gain some points in his
favor. His fingers had barely brushed it
when a dull blue light emitted from the center.
Rodney immediately jerked his fingers back. “That’s not good.” It stopped glowing.
“Freeze! Police!”
Rodney jumped upright. “What?”
There were three policemen with their weapons trained on him. His hands instantly rose above his head. “What?
What?”
“That’s him, officer!” the kid from the
booth declared.
“Oh, you have GOT to be
kidding me.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
An hour later,
Constable Benton Fraser of
the Royal Canadian police searched the crowded police station. It seemed even more crowded than normal to
his experienced eye. Finally, he spied
the blond head of his friend and partner, Stanley Ray Kolawski,
currently known as Ray Vecchio. He seemed to be impatiently listening to a
man in jeans, a button up shirt and a corduroy jacket.
“… taking
my valuable time that could be spent analyzing my findings! So return my artifacts and stop wasting it!”
Ray took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but as the officer, our Civilian
Aid, and several others have explained, your artifacts are now our
evidence. So if you ever want to see
them again, stop wasting our time and let us investigate. The sooner we figure out who’s responsible, the
sooner you’ll get your stuff back.”
“You already know who’s
responsible! My assistant pointed him
out and he had the evidence.”
“We like to be certain he’s
guilty before we lock him up. Until
then, we’ll keep the doodads.”
“They’re artifacts!”
“Whatever. We’ll take good care of them.”
“This way, Professor Craig,”
Francesca Vecchio intervened before her ‘brother’
could lose his temper. “I have some
paperwork for you to read and sign…”
“What’s
going on, Ray?” Fraser asked.
“Oh, thank God you’re
here.” Ray waved his friend to follow
him down one of the side halls that led to the interrogation rooms. “You’ve been giving us false advertising, you
know.”
Fraser tilted his head. “In what way?”
“The suspect that the
Professor insists tried to steal his artifacts claims to be Canadian.”
“There are Canadian thieves,
Ray.”
“I know that. Just expected them
to be politer than ours is all.”
Following Ray into the
observation room, Fraser asked, “What do you mean?”
Smirking, Ray waved at his superior,
Lt. Walsh. “Listen.” Both men joined the Lieutenant to watch the
show on the other side of the glass.
“… for
hours, and you haven’t even given me a glass of water, let alone the coffee I
asked for!” The man sitting at the bare
table waved his arms vigorously. Fraser
quickly sized him up. He wasn’t a big
man, or even one that would normally catch a person’s attention. However, his voice certainly had volume. Blue eyes sparked with indignation, though
with a second glance, Fraser thought they looked tired.
Detective Huey, attempting
to use his taller frame and stern face, smoothly leaned into the suspect’s
personal space. “You are here to answer
our questions, Dr. McKay.”
The man didn’t look the
slightest bit intimidated. “And I have
answered your questions.” He started pointing at the fingers of his left
hand. “No, I did not grab the ball, it
rolled next to my foot. No, I did not
call the punks; I called a colleague who I knew would be interested in the
display. No, I have no idea where the
punks disappeared to; I was on the floor for most of the altercation. No, I can’t tell you where I’ve been on any
of those dates because that’s classified.”
He finished by waving his hands in the air. “Now, do you have any new ones?”
“Classified?” Huey’s junior
partner, Dewey, questioned. “Where have
you been,
The man sighed
impatiently. “You do realize that if I
confirmed or denied that, it would negate the whole meaning of the word
‘classified’? Now, if you would just
call the number on the card I gave you…”
Fraser turned to Ray. “Who is our suspect?”
“Doctor Rodney McKay, some
kind of scientist.”
“He does speak like an
educated man.”
Walsh snorted. “He certainly talks fast. Claims to be working for the US Air Force,
but also claims to be Canadian.”
“Hmm.” Fraser
studied the man some more. “Our
countries are allies. It is quite
possible for one of our scientists to work with yours.”
“Yeah, I agree.” Walsh watched as the suspect rolled his eyes
at Huey’s latest attempt at intimidation.
“Personally, I think Huey and Dewey are barking up the wrong tree. But
he was there, and was also interested in the display, and might give us an idea
why those whatchamacallits are so important. So when
the guy said he was Canadian…”
“You thought that perhaps I
could speak with him and obtain some information?”
“Exactly. He might
relax with a Mountie instead of one of us.”
“I would be willing to try,
sir.”
“Thanks, Fraser.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
As Detectives Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dee left
the interrogation room, Rodney stifled the urge to flip off whoever was
watching behind the one-sided glass. The
fact he had such a self-destructive thought suggested he’d been hanging around
the Major far too long. He dropped his
head on top of his hands. He knew his
blood pressure was going through the roof, and the exhaustion he hadn’t totally
shaken off since the siege was looming again.
The door opened again. Rodney raised his head and blinked. There stood a Mountie,
dressed in the traditional bright red uniform, holding a steaming mug. The tall man politely explained, “I
understand you have requested a cup of coffee.”
“At this point I’d take it
intravenously, but that’s a start.” He
took the plain white mug from the Mountie’s hands,
closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, enjoying the aroma. He then opened them to watch the officer sit
in the other chair. “I can’t believe
they found me a Mountie in
“As a matter of fact, I came
to
Rodney blinked, then mentally shrugged.
Wasn’t any weirder than getting sent to Russian to
work with alien materials because he’d ticked off the wrong people. “Fair enough.”
“Allow me to introduce
myself. I am Constable Benton Fraser.”
“Dr. Rodney McKay.”
“May I ask what is your field of study?”
“Astrophysics. I also dabble
in engineering, computer programming and a variety of other things. I’m a bit of a genius, actually.”
“What are you currently
working on?”
The questioning might be
politer, but they were treading the same worn ground. “That’s classified.”
Fraser nodded his head once
in understanding. “Then I will go no
further.” He watched as Rodney took a
careful sip of the coffee. “May I inquire
why you are in
“Technically, I’m on
vacation. Tomorrow, I’m scheduled to
interview potential scientists for my project.”
“Are you traveling alone?”
“Currently. A friend of
mine has arranged to meet me in a couple of days.”
Before another question
could be asked, the door opened. Det. Huey, trailed by Lt. Walsh, stormed in. “We just talked with your landlord in
Rodney blinked. “That’s because I’ve been away a lot due to
my work. I’ve arranged for the rent and
utilities to be paid.”
Huey’s dark eyes grew
darker. “And does your work involve
stealing artifacts and vandalizing dig sites?”
“Of course
not!” All the calm that had settled over him while
talking with the Mountie vanished. He slammed both hands on the table and stood
up. “I’ve had enough. Don’t you still allow phone calls in this
country?”
“We’re taking you to
lockup,” Lt. Walsh decided. He waved at
the officers standing outside to escort their suspect.
“This is just so wrong! I’m supposed to be safe here!” Rodney followed his escort, though his whole
demeanor was belligerent.
Fraser studied the fellow
Canadian as he was led down the hall.
Ray slipped up to him and asked, “Safe?”
“Yes, and
what an interesting choice of words. It implies that he has not
always been ‘safe’. Add in his obvious
fatigue, I can only speculate what his duties with the US Air Force entails.”
“He’s tired?” Ray stared at the imparting back, but he’d
learned to trust
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The Wyndom
Major John Sheppard swung
his duffle over his shoulder as he stepped into the lobby. It was a beautiful place, with inlay marble
floors and polished wood. It felt so
different from
The young woman matched his
smile with a bright one of her own.
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’m suppose to meet a
friend here in a couple of days, but I managed to get away early and thought
I’d surprise him. He should be arriving
today, but I’m not sure if he’s checked in yet.”
“What’s his name?” the girl
asked, ready to type into her terminal.
“Dr. Rodney McKay.”
The girl paused, eyes
wide. “Dr. McKay? But…”
Sheppard frowned. “What?”
“The..
the police…”
“The
police?” John repeated, eyes growing wide. Then he felt a heavy hand on his
shoulder. Turning, he found a policeman
eyeing him carefully. Immediately on
alert, John gave him one of his trademark, ‘I am harmless’ smiles and slowly drawled,
“What’s going on, officer?”
Unfortunately, the smile
didn’t seem to work any better on Earth than it did in the Pegasus Galaxy. “Do you know Mr. Rodney McKay?” the male
officer demanded.
“Actually, that’s Doctor
McKay,” John couldn’t help but point out. The policeman did not acknowledge the
correction. “Rodney and I are
co-workers.”
“And you are?”
“Major John Sheppard, US Air
Force.”
“May we search your bag?”
“Sure,
officer.” Sheppard handed the
duffle to the female officer who had slid up to his right. “Not sure why you’d want to touch my dirty underwear,
though.”
The female officer dug
around then shook her head at her partner.
“No artifacts here.”
“Artifacts?” John was now thoroughly confused. “What artifacts?”
“Do you know why your
co-worker would steal artifacts?”
John barely contained a
snort. “McKay has enough artifacts to
play with. He doesn’t need any
more.” Unless it was a ZPM, but Sheppard
was fairly certain there wasn’t one in
“Perhaps you should come
with us. I’m sure the detectives will
have some questions for you.”
Glancing between the
officers, John felt his gut tighten.
Obviously, McKay was in a lot of trouble. Getting McKay out of trouble was his
job. “Perhaps I should.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
At Fraser’s suggestion, Ray
brought the box with the evidence for the case to one of the meeting
rooms. Fraser was already glancing
through the descriptions and associated pictures of the artifacts. “This is truly an interesting display. The ideas put forth by Dr. Craig are either
incredibly brilliant or outrageously wrong.”
“Would that make these
artifacts valuable enough to steal?” Ray
asked.
“The value would be in the
possible knowledge of Classical cultures as opposed to their actual net
worth. Though a
collector might be interested.
Did the thieves obtain anything from the case?”
“Believe
it or not, no. Apparently, one punk had picked up the ball
thing in there, but someone fell into him and he dropped it. At that point, they all fled out of the
arena. We have people looking over the
cameras, to see if they can spot which exit they took.”
“Meanwhile, the artifact
rolled to Dr. McKay.” Gloves already on,
Fraser gently lifted the ball in the clear plastic bag out of the box. He shifted it in his hands, examining it from
all angles. “It does not appear to be
damaged.”
“That’s what I don’t
get.” Ray pulled out a pair of evidence
gloves and put one on his left hand. “I
thought stuff from then would look, well, old.
The rest of the doodads in there look old. But that one doesn’t look
old; it doesn’t look like it’s been sitting in the ground for centuries,
either.”
“True.” Fraser again looked
at it, then gingerly sat it on the table. “Let us compare.”
As Fraser turned back to the
box, the ball started to roll.
Amazingly, it rolled out of the evidence bag and straight to Ray. Quick reflexes allowed him to catch the ball
in his bare right hand before it could fall down to the floor. As
“I see it, Ray.” Again, the Mountie
carefully examined the glowing ball in Ray’s hand.
“Is it supposed to do
that?” Ray half whined.
“No, I can think of no
reason a Classical Greek artifact should glow.”
“Do you think it’s gonna to hurt me?”
“I imagine if it could have
hurt someone, a person from the science group studying it would have already
died. Then we’d be investigating deaths
instead of thieves.”
Ray carefully rolled it to
his gloved hand. The light dimmed, but
didn’t go out. “Did it do that with
you?”
“No, but perhaps something
was activated when it rolled across the table.”
“Let’s see.” Ray passed the dimpled ball to Fraser. The light immediately extinguished. “Hey, why did it go out?”
“I don’t know, Ray.” Fraser removed a glove with his teeth, then rolled the ball into his bare hand. It stayed dark. He handed it back to Ray. It again began to glow.
“Must like me better,” Ray
observed with a half-grin.
“I wonder if this is why
Professor Craig is so interested in it.”
Ray tilted his head. “What is a glowing ball good for?”
“I do not know. A better question may be why a glowing ball
is in a dig site from the Classical Greek era.”
“And an even better question
is who will know the answer? The Professor or the Canadian Doctor?”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Booking
Officer Randell
was carefully recording the items found in the so-called doctor’s
possession. He really didn’t understand
how someone who didn’t take care of people could be called ‘doctor’, but he
figured that’s why the detectives got the big bucks. As his tan hand reached for the cell phone,
it rang. He jerked back, but picked it
up after the second ring. “Hello?”
“Rodney,
lad, how ye doin’ now?”
Randell blinked. He
wasn’t sure that was English. “Who’s
this?”
“Eh? Who’re you?”
“This is the Chicago PD.”
“The
police?”
“Ah,
yeah.”
“Oh bloody hell, where’s Dr.
McKay?”
“In a
holding cell.”
“Oh for the love of…. No mam, nae swearing …
“Yes, sir,” Randell reported hesitantly.
“The daft bugger is goin’ ta be the death of
me!” the voice at
the other end muttered as the phone call cut off.
Randell gently placed the phone down on the counter,
wondering if he should report the call.
But then, he wasn’t really sure what the other man said. Probably didn’t matter.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Sheppard sat in the
interrogation room, unaware his friend had sat in the same place only 90
minutes before. He gave a jaunty wave to
whoever was behind the one-way glass, then watched as
a tall black man and a white man with dark hair entered. He continued to slouch in the chair, though
his eyes watched everything around him.
“So, Mr. Sheppard…” The
white guy started.
“That’s Major Sheppard,
actually,” John interrupted, his voice still carrying a friendly tone. In his mind, he decided to dub him ‘Dopey’.
“Which branch?” the big one demanded
in a smooth voice.
Obviously, this one was
Grumpy. “Air Force.”
“Your
station?”
“Classified.”
“What do you do?”
“Classified.”
The two detectives glanced
at each other, then Grumpy folded his arms. “Your friend, Dr. McKay, has already told us
everything.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” John swiftly examined the two faces. Nope, they didn’t look either
freaked out nor disbelieving enough.
Confidently, he stated, “No, McKay didn’t tell you anything. Knowing him, he probably used a lot of big
words, but still told you absolutely nothing.”
Grumpy leaned close enough
for Sheppard to identify onions on his breath.
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
As Grumpy leaned back, Dopey
asked, “Did Dr. McKay call you today?”
Sheppard lifted an
eyebrow. “No, we haven’t spoken for a
couple of days, why?”
“Where were you around noon
today?” Grumpy shot back.
“On a
plane from L.A.X. to O’Hare.”
Grumpy leaned back into his
space. “Why were you in
After a brief internal
struggle with his emotions, Sheppard spoke flatly, “Visiting the family of one
of my guys who’s MIA.”
Grumpy instantly backed
off. Dopey quickly inserted, “Do you
know where Dr. McKay was on April 18th or February 12th of this year?”
“Yes,” John replied, quickly
converting Earth dates to Atlantis time in his head.
Dopey waited a moment, then asked, “Well, where was he?”
“That’s classified.”
“Where were you?”
“With
McKay.”
“Doing what?”
“Classified.”
“You know what I think.”
Grumpy stood in front of him. “I think
you both are into stealing artifacts.”
“Not unless we have orders.”
Grumpy looked
triumphant. “And those orders would be
from…?”
“Classified.” His worry for
his friend increasing, Sheppard had finally had enough. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on
and where’s McKay?”
“I’ll do you one
better. You’re going to join him.”
Sheppard shrugged. He wasn’t going to complain when he was
getting what he wanted.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Holding
Rodney was pacing the cell,
avoiding the drunk in the corner and ignoring the eyes of the leering man in
leather in the cage beside him. The
opening of the door to the block drew his eyes.
“Major!”
“Hiya,
Rodney,” Sheppard drawled.
“You don’t know how happy I
am to see you! Wait a minute,
I thought you were still in LA. Never
mind, are you getting me out?”
“Not
exactly.”
“What do you mean, ‘not
exactly’?”
The officer opened the door
and gave Sheppard a little push inside. “Like I said, not
exactly.”
Rodney’s eyes grew
wide. “Why are they arresting you?”
“Apparently, they think
we’re in cahoots for stealing artifacts.”
Appraising his anxious friend and their surrounding, he began to subtly
herd Rodney to one of the cots. “Want to
tell me what happened? I kinda like to
know what I’m being accused of stealing.”
Too worked up to sit down,
Rodney paced as he launched into a swift and wordy rundown of what happened,
hands flying in every direction. John
was please to see that, mindful of their less-than-secure surroundings, Rodney
side-stepped the classified parts.
Still, he followed the gist of it.
Only a member of his team could come to Earth, find a possible Ancient
artifact in the middle of a conference, and then be falsely arrested for
stealing it.
He also had time to study
his teammate. After the Siege of
Atlantis, John had found Rodney collapsed outside his room, the victim of
severe fatigue and the aftereffects of the stimulants. Beckett had ordered McKay to take it easy the
first few days on Earth, to continue to catch up on his sleep. From what John could read on his face, Rodney
hadn’t been following orders. He also
didn’t like the bruise developing on his left cheek.
As Rodney finished up with
an account of his interrogation, John asked, “So, do you think this artifact
could match what you’ve been working on?”
“I’m positive now.” John lifted an eyebrow. Rodney sighed and explained, “Let’s just say
there’s a reason I didn’t pick it up when I reached for it.”
John frowned a moment, then
his eyes lit up. “Oh.”
“Yes,
‘oh’.”
That meant Rodney had nearly
‘turned on’ the artifact in a public forum. McKay had been given the rare
Ancient Technology Activation gene on Atlantis through gene therapy; it worked
in less than half the recipients. John
himself had the ATA gene naturally. They
would both have to be careful in touching any artifacts. Thinking hard, John
replied absently,“That could
make things interesting.”
“Exactly.”
Realizing they couldn’t discuss
the situation further in their present location, John decided to change the
subject. “I have one more question.”
“What?”
“Weren’t you supposed to be
in
The hands stilled a moment
as pain shot through McKay’s eyes. “I decided
to leave early.”
“Why?”
Rodney shrugged. “Didn’t have anything to
keep me in
“Weren’t you supposed to see
your sister?”
“Yeah.”
John waited a moment. One-word answers weren’t McKay. “What happened?”
He could see the internal
debate reflected on Rodney’s face. Just
as he could tell when Rodney decided to tentatively trust the growing
friendship between them. “Jeannie wasn’t
there.”
“Oh? Was she out for the afternoon?”
“No. She and her family just
moved to
They had only arrived on
Earth a couple of days ago. There was no
way McKay could have caught his sister before she left. Intergalatic travel
aside, that still sucked. “Well, you could fly out to
Rodney slowly shook his
head. “I’ve got responsibilities here,
and little time to finish up before we head back. Besides, they’re in the
middle of a move. I doubt Jeannie would appreciate me interrupting them, especially
since we didn’t exactly part on good terms last time. She probably doesn’t want
to see me at all.”
“McKay.”
“Drop it, Major.” They sat quietly for a moment. “Did you see Aiden’s
grandparents?”
“No. His cousin was afraid I’d upset them too
much.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“My
responsibility.”
“No, the… drug… it had
messed with his mind. He wasn’t
listening to anybody.”
“Still my
responsibility.” John turned to look his friend in the
face. “Did you get any sleep last
night?”
Rodney’s hands dropped from
rubbing his eyes. “No. I drove from
“Drove?”
“It’s been a while since
I’ve driven a car. It was actually kinda soothing.”
“Did you keep it in a
straight line?”
“Hey! I can fly in a straight line.”
“Right,” John replied
sarcastically.
“I can, too! And besides, with a car there’s
lines on the road.”
John chuckled. “Do I have to find a way to paint lines in …
thin air, Rodney?”
“Maybe.”
After another moment of silence, John asked,
“Did you get a hold of the Springs?”
“I left a message on the
emergency line. Hopefully, someone will
get us out of this soon.”
“Man, I hope they don’t tell
the General.”
“I doubt they’ll send
Landry.”
“No, O’Neill.”
“Personally, I wouldn’t worry
about O’Neill,” Rodney assured him gloomily.
“He’d have a good laugh, then get us out. I’m more worried about them calling
“That wouldn’t be good.”
“We’ll be lucky if she
doesn’t kill us.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Lieutenant Walsh’s office
“Maybe they’re searching for
weapons of mass destruction?” Dewey suggested to his partner. “That would be classified.”
“Maybe,” Huey admitted. “But I would think they’d have a squad of
marines, not an Air Force pilot and a scientist.”
“A scientist would be useful
in identifying a chemical weapon.”
“But why a
pilot?”
“A pilot?” Ray inquired as he and Fraser entered the room.
“Yeah, turns out the friend
is a military pilot,” Huey explained, waving a file folder.
As Fraser took the file, Dewey
added, “The Major’s seen some action in
Ray shrugged as he set the
ball, careful to only touch the evidence bag, onto the Lieutenant’s desk. “Maybe he was in charge of flying McKay
around.”
“The main point is that it
does back up their story,” Walsh pointed out.
“You really don’t have a case.
Why is this out of evidence?”
“Take it out of the bag,
sir,” Ray requested.
“Excuse me?”
“Go ahead, Leftenant. We wish
to show you something,” Fraser explained.
Puzzled, Walsh opened the
evidence bag and pulled out the ball.
“Okay, now what?”
“Hmm.” Fraser
frowned as he stared at the ball.
“Give it to Huey,” Ray
suggested.
Huey took the ball, then at Ray’s urging, handed it to Dewey. The ball stayed dark.
“It doesn’t work for them,”
Ray pointed out to his partner, ignoring the confused looks from his
co-workers.
“It didn’t work for me,
either, Ray.”
“What work?” Walsh
demanded. “It’s a ball of metal.”
“Just another moment of your
time, please, sir,” Fraser requested.
“Dewey, if you may, please hand it to Ray.”
With a shrug, Dewey placed
the ball in Ray’s hands. It instantly
lit up with blue light.
“Wow.” Dewey leaned
closer. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Not if it’s from Ancient
Greece,” his partner answered.
“It’s kinda
cool.” Ray grinned as he shifted it back
and forth between his hands.
“And it only does that for Vecchio?” Walsh
asked, staring at the now glowing ball.
“To this
point, sir.” Fraser’s frown deepened as he watched his
partner play with the ball. “But Ray and
I have only seen it touched by the five of us.”
“If it had glowed at the
scene, surely someone would have reported it.”
Walsh pondered the object. “How
do we get it to stop glowing?”
“Easy.” Ray handed the ball back to Dewey. It immediately turned dark.
“No way that’s an old
object,” Walsh concluded.
Fraser nodded as he accepted
the ball from Dewey. “It would seem
doubtful, sir.”
Ray snapped his
fingers. “Could this have something to
do with the ‘Classified’ thing going on?”
“A
classified object that somehow got mixed up with Greek artifacts?” Huey expanded.
“Yeah,” Ray confirmed.
“It would explain the US Air
Force involvement,” Fraser added.
“But not why McKay would try
to steal it in a public place,” Walsh pointed out.
“And why does it only work
with Vecchio?” Dewey whined. “He’s Italian, not Greek.” He paused a moment as the rest stared at
him. “Okay, he’s not really Italian either. But he’s still not Greek!”
“That is the question.” Fraser placed it back in the bag. “Perhaps—“
The door to the office
suddenly burst open. “Lieutenant Walsh!”
Fraser’s boss, Inspector Meg Thatcher, and Constable Turnbull stepped
inside. “As representatives of the
Canadian government, we are here to protest the unjustified detaining of one of
our national heroes.”
“What hero?” Walsh asked.
“Dr. Rodney McKay.” Thatcher stood up straight. “We demand his immediate release.”
Walsh stared at her
doubtfully. “Hero?”
Ray shot Fraser a puzzled look, which Fraser returned.
“Yes,” Thatcher
replied. “He is one of our unsung
heroes, and very valuable to our country.
My understanding is that his work is too important to be delayed by
these ridiculous charges. I would consider it a personal favor and a sign of
friendship between our countries if you would allow him to be released into our
custody.”
With a put-upon sigh, Walsh
decided, “The evidence against him is pretty thin.” He poked his head outside his door. “Officer, go get Dr. McKay. And get his friend while you’re at it.”
Both Huey and Dewey shot up
from their relaxed positions.
“You can’t do that, Sir!”
“What about our case?”
As the American detectives
argued, Fraser slid up to his boss. “National hero, sir?”
While Thatcher’s face
remained calm, her whisper was nervous.
“The background check Turnball ran sent up red
flags in
“So we are to make sure he’s
allowed to continue his work.”
“Yes,
exactly.”
While everyone else was
busy, Ray quietly slipped the ball into his pocket of his jacket. He’d take it
back to evidence once things calmed down.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Sheppard unobtrusively noted
everything he could about the layout and people of the station as he and McKay
followed the officer. Admittedly, he
didn’t expect to have to break out of an American police station, but old
habits die hard. The part of his brain
not already occupied was worried about who sprung them. In spite of what Rodney had said, he really
didn’t want to embarrass the General like this.
Of course, once Rodney delivered the news that there was Ancient
technology mixed in with Earth artifacts, whoever was picking them up may
forgive them.
Prepared to face an SGC
representative in US Air Force blues or even the Marine Corp, he was surprised
to see the unfamiliar red uniforms among the detectives he met earlier. Did someone change the dress code while they
were at Atlantis?
However, Rodney didn’t seem
phased as he greeted one of the men in red.
“Constable Fraser,
a pleasure to see you again.”
Rodney glanced around. “Are you
the one to arrange our release?”
The woman in a
professionally cut skirt and blazer stepped forward. “Allow me to introduce myself, Dr.
McKay. I am Inspector Thatcher. As the head of the Canadian Consulate in
As his friend’s chest puffed
out with the compliments, Sheppard couldn’t hold back his loud snort. As Rodney glared at him, he smirked. “A hero, Rodney?”
“My country has every right
to be proud of my achievements.”
Just what McKay didn’t need
– a boost to his already oversized ego. “Yeah, they do, but hero? I have to remind you to reload.”
McKay threw his hands
up. “Okay, sometimes I forget to reload
or lose the clip in my gun, but that hasn’t stopped me from saving your hind
end, Major.”
The teasing tone was
instantly dropped when Sheppard picked up on the new piece of information. “When have you lost the clip in your gun?”
“Teyla
didn’t… never mind.”
“Teyla
didn’t what?”
“Major, do you want out of
here or not?”
John paused, realizing they
were the center of attention. Okay, he
hadn’t planned on being rescued by McKay worshipping Canadians, but he’d take
what they could get. “Later,
then.” He turned to the man who
seemed to be in charge and asked, “So, are we free to go?”
“I believe only Dr. McKay
was mentioned, since he’s the Canadian,” Grumpy pointed out. John decided he had made the grade as his
least favorite dwarf.
Rodney instantly stood up
straighter, puffing out his chest aggressively.
“Major Sheppard works the same project as I do, and he wasn’t even in
Sheppard suddenly realized
that the Inspector was giving him a slow, lingering once-over with her
eyes. Uncomfortable, he tried not to shift
his feet. With a decisive turn, she
spoke to the police lieutenant. “I’ll
take the Yank as well.”
Lt. Walsh waved at them with
his hand. “Go ahead. Just don’t let them leave town until we get
this mess straightened out.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
O’Hare
Entering concourse B, Daniel
had barely turned on his phone when it rang.
Noting the SGC id, he quickly answered.
“
“Sgt. Harriman, Dr.
Jackson. We may have a problem.”
Daniel frowned as his steps
slowed. “What’s up?”
“Dr. McKay left a message on
the emergency line. He’s been arrested.”
“What!” Then Daniel realized he had attracted the
attention of the people around him with his shout. Taking a deep breath, he forced his feet
forward and his voice softer. “Do you
know why?”
“Someone attempted to steal
the item he called you about. He said
that since he had shown interest in it and tried to pick it up when it was
dropped, he immediately became a suspect.”
“Damn,” Daniel replied
softly. Rodney could be in a lot of
trouble.
“He also said to tell you he
confirmed his suspicions about the item in question.”
That slowed his feet again
as his mind sped up. That meant there was
a device of the Ancient design nearly stolen from a public forum, and now the
focus of a police investigation. Even
worse, the head scientist of their ultra-top secret expedition was caught in
the middle of the mess. “Walter, what
are Landry’s orders for the situation?”
“I haven’t been able to
contact him, Dr. Jackson. There’s some
big meeting with Dr. Weir.”
“General O’Neill?”
“Same
meeting.”
“Damn.” Daniel shifted his carry-on bag off his
shoulder as he pulled a small notebook out of his jacket pocket. He sat the bag
on a chair as he leaned over an armrest to write. “Looks like I’m the rescue party. Can you tell me where McKay’s being held?”
Walter reported the
information from the message, which Daniel scribbled down. “What do you need me to do, Dr. Jackson?”
“Let Jack know what’s going
on as soon as the meeting’s over. Tell
him I don’t like the situation, especially considering who may be interested in
the artifact. I’m going to try to bail
out McKay, and I’ll contact the base as soon as I have him.”
“Yes, Dr.
Closing his phone, Daniel
took a deep breath and picked up his bag.
His teammate, Sam Carter, hated McKay.
However, after working with him down in
Daniel just feared that the
artifact had attracted the attention of someone more dangerous than Rodney.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
After a brief discussion, it
was decided to take the consulate’s new ‘guests’ to the Wyndom. Turnball drove as
the Inspector made a quiet phone call back to
The two men in the back seat
were a puzzle wrapped in a riddle.
Initial impressions were of two dissimilar men, a solider and a
scientist. Yet there was a level of
comfort between the pair that Fraser only saw between close brothers, soldiers,
or partners in law enforcement, like himself and Ray. The mention of Dr. McKay having to use a gun
only made him more curious. In his experience,
Canadians in general didn’t touch guns unless it was a rifle used in self
defense against unfriendly wild life.
Just what kind of ‘wildlife’ has Dr. McKay had to defend himself
against? Did it have anything to do with the ball?
The artifact seemed
seriously misplaced, and its unnatural attraction to his partner troubled him
more than he wanted to admit. Ray was
too fascinated by it. Fraser couldn’t
decipher it, and therefore couldn’t rule out that the ball was a threat to the
blond detective.
Everything was still quiet
in the back seat. Then Major Sheppard commented
in a perfectly calm tone, “You’re supposed to report everything that happens in
a mission.”
Dr. McKay’s tone was more
heated. “I do, in more detail than your
‘we saw trees and ran from angry natives’. “
“Then how come I never heard
about the gun clip? From either of you?”
“It wasn’t during a
mission.”
The faint sound of fabric on
vinyl swished to Fraser’s ears, signaling the Major had turned to face his
co-worker. “Then when would you need to
use your nine mil?”
“When the…” Fraser could almost
feel Dr. McKay’s glance at the back of his head. “When I was trying to plug
and play our new power source.”
“Huh?”
“After you
were rescued from your little kamikaze run, Major. Remember, ‘So
long, Rodney’?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,
‘Oh’.”
It was silent for a
moment. “Didn’t
A snort sounded from the
back seat. “She only sent two with
me. Here I am, carrying the… you know
what… with a city full of rrrr… bad guys with only
two newbie marines who didn’t even know where we were going. They were both taken out within a couple of
seconds of each other, so I’m facing two bad guys on my own holding the most
valuable piece of equipment we have.”
“And you lost your clip?”
“Hey!
“And Teyla?”
“Showed up in the nick of
time and did what two stupid marines couldn’t.”
“That’s my girl.”
“She is amazing.”
“I need to see if she’ll
work with the marines more. The new
batch needs to be reminded that cocky can get you killed.”
“And getting their ass
kicked by a beautiful woman will cure them?”
“It does me.”
“That’s debatable.”
Fraser silently pondered
their words as they pulled up to the hotel.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure it’s
unsettling. I wouldn’t like a pigeon
pecking at my window either. But I doubt
it’s your deceased husband… Yes, ma’am, I’m sure he misses you… Perhaps you
should call a priest or your pastor… Well,
if it is him, they could perform an exorcism… Glad the Chicago PD can be of
service, ma’am. Good evening.”
Francesca Vecchio set the phone back into its cradle and sighed. It
had been a long day, yet it felt like the calm before the storm. There was just something about the whole
deal with the artifacts that seemed off to her.
Perhaps she had finally been hanging around cops long enough to get ‘gut
feelings’. She’ll have to ask
Fraser. However, the unsuspecting love
of her life had left with the Ice Queen and the rest of the Canadians nearly
twenty minutes ago. Probably just as
well, though the dark haired stranger had been kinda
cute.
Lifting her head, she
spotted two men in dark suits enter the squad room. Noting Lt. Walsh’s door was still closed, she
moved to intercept the men. “Excuse me, is there something I can do for you?”
One looked down his nose at
her, narrowing on the ‘Civilian Aide’ tag.
At least, that better be what he was frowning at. Frannie had it from
several good authorities that she had very nice breasts, thank you very much.
“Miss, where is Lt. Harding
Walsh?”
“The lieutenant is in his--”
Frannie started, waving her hand towards the closed
door.
Rudely, the man and his
partner pushed past her, giving her a little shove in the process. She threw out her arms for balance, only to
be caught against a strong chest. As she
steadied herself, she looked up to discover the fake Ray Vecchio
had caught her. Darn it, the one guy in
the office she had to pretend to be related to in order to protect her real
brother. Which was too bad – he had
nice, strong arms.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, no thanks to those—“
“”Shhh”
As she debated on whether to
scold him, her attention was drawn to the office with the open door.
“It’s OUR case!” Dewey
yelled.
“It is now a CIA case,” the
rude man replied. “We want all evidence
and suspects in our custody immediately.”
“Well, the suspects will be
a problem,” the Lieutenant drawled, “Seeing as the Canadians just took
custody.”
“You lost them!”
Ray grabbed her arm and
pulled her out into the hall.
“Ray…” Her voice trailed off
when he dragged her into the supply closet often used by staff for private
discussions. With the door closed, it was completely dark inside. “Well, I’m
flattered, but everyone’s supposed to think you’re my brother.”
“Frannie,”
he whined back, frustration vibrating through his voice. “I want to show you
something.” Before Frannie’s mind could slide further
into the gutter, the darkness was lit up with a blue ball of light.
“What’s that?” she asked,
fascinated.
Ray pulled the cord to the
bare bulb above them. The light was
still dim compared to the ball. “Part of
the evidence those Fed types want to take.”
“Is it supposed to glow like
that?”
“That’s the question.” Ray handed it to her. It instantly turned off. “The only person so far who can make it work
is me.”
Frannie frowned at the ball.
“Not even Fraser?”
Ray rolled his eyes. “Not even him. And that’s the thing; I don’t know why. For all I know, it could mean anything from
‘I’m in line for the throne’ to ‘I’m going to die in twenty-four hours’. And if those guys out there take it, I may
never know.”
Frannie continued to study the innocuous metal ball that
only a few moments ago was glowing. She
could understand; she’d want to know why, too.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Could you hide it for
me? That way, if the Lieutenant asks if
I know where it is, I can honestly say ‘I don’t know’.”
“We could get into trouble.”
“I know, but I’m begging
here.”
“And once you find out?”
“I’ll return it to its
rightful owners. Honest.”
Frannie looked into his bright blue eyes, sincerity shining
strongly in them. “Sure. I don’t like those guys much anyway. But keep me updated?”
“Of
course. You’re an angel, Frannie.”
“Yeah,
right. Go on.”
They could both hear the
lieutenant’s bellow when Ray opened the door.
“VECCHIO!”
Exchanging looks, Frannie nodded. As
Ray left, she took a deep breath and thought of where she could hide it.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The Wyndom
Sheppard gently tucked a
spare blanket over McKay’s shoulders.
Rodney had canted in a 45 degree angle against the couch, softly snoring
before John could find the room service menu.
He studied his teammate, noting he looked tense even asleep. Rodney desperately needed a real break. Unfortunately, the SGC had other plans. Rodney and
Rubbing his eyes, he felt
his gut tighten at the very thought of never seeing that beautiful place nor
its people again. The image of geeky
McKay facing down Wraith all by himself and losing the clip was sure to haunt
his nightmares if he didn’t return with them.
He didn’t need that. He already
had enough people haunting him. He didn’t care who they placed in the top
military spot; he simply needed to be there in some capacity to protect Telya, Elizabeth, Carson and Rodney. However, his
assignment was up to United States Air Force. John would beg at the feet of
Landry and O’Neill if that would get him back to Atlantis. He just didn’t know if that would be enough.
A soft knock at the door
caught his attention. Frowning, he
forced all thoughts of his tenuous position from his mind. He walked over, his sock-covered feet making
no sound on the soft carpet. Through the
peep hole, he saw Constable Fraser, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved
shirt. With a shrug, he opened the
door. He held a finger to his lips as
the Mountie stepped inside.
Fraser glanced over to spy
McKay on the couch. He nodded almost to
himself. “I had thought he looked
fatigued,” he whispered.
“Our assignment was pretty
intense at the end. I don’t think he’s
caught up on the weeks of missed sleep yet,” John replied at the same soft
volume.
“Then I will do my best not
to disturb him, though that position doesn’t look comfortable.”
John shrugged. “I’ve seen him in worse. Usually, he’s face down on a keyboard.”
Fraser took a deep
breath. “I realize that your work is classified,
and respect your duty in not betraying that trust. However, a situation has arisen that,
frankly, concerns me. I wish to ask you
about it.”
Relating to the worry in the
blue eyes before him, John silently nodded his encouragement.
“One of the artifacts
targeted by the thieves is a metallic ball about the size of a softball.”
Fraser indicated the size with his hands.
“It is seen in the video tape from the scene rolling towards your Dr.
McKay, and is the reason he was arrested.
At the station, while my Chicago PD partner and I looked at the
artifacts, the same ball rolled towards my partner. When he caught it, it lit up with a blue
light. However, if touched by anyone
else, it turns off.” Fraser stared
straight into Sheppard’s troubled face.
“All I need to know is if it poses a threat to Ray, and what is required
to counteract that threat if it does.”
“Ah, hell,” Sheppard
responded at a normal volume. What were
the odds that one of the policemen on the case would have the ATA gene?
Rodney instantly shot up
from the couch. “What? What?”
“Easy,
McKay.” Sheppard walked towards
his friend, the Mountie following him.
Taking in his surrounding,
Rodney asked, “Have you ordered the food?
I’m getting a bit shaky.”
“Soon,” Sheppard assured
him. He turned to Fraser. “Tell him what you just told me.”
After Fraser repeated his
story, John locked eyes with Rodney.
“What do you think?”
Rodney shook his head. “It’s definitely sounds like the other items
I’ve been working on. I just don’t know enough yet. The display case kept me from examining it
closely, or reading the writing on it.”
He turned to Fraser. “Has there
been any deaths or weird occurrences related to the ball?”
“None to
our knowledge. But we didn’t realize that the ball was
important until it lit up for Ray.”
“Could be a good sign,” John
suggested.
“Or it simply means it
hadn’t encountered a gene carrier until the detective and myself.” John could practically see the gears picking
up speed in the genius’ head.
“Gene carrier?” Fraser asked
cautiously.
Rodney and John again
exchanged looks. Neither of them were very good at cover stories, but Rodney definitely held
the record as the worst liar. His open
face and bluntness made it impossible.
John sighed. “All I can tell you
is that yes, the ball is related to our classified work. And it reacts to a certain rare gene. But anything else I can’t tell you.”
“If it makes you feel any
better,” Rodney added softly. “It
started to light up for me at the Convention Center, and I feel fine. If it was going to hurt your friend, it most
likely would have done so immediately after reacting to him. But to be certain, I or my colleague, Dr.
Jackson, will need to look at it.
Hopefully, the inscription should tell us all we need to know.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Stargate Command
Walter Harriman was waiting
for General Jack O’Neill as he stepped out of the conference room. “Sir, we may have a situation.”
“Situation?” General Landry,
who had stepped out behind Jack, asked.
Walter looked at both his
current and former bosses and quickly reported the situation with McKay in
“Damn.” Landry thought a moment. “And you say that
McKay has confirmed it’s Ancient tech?”
“His message over the
insecure line seemed to imply that, yes.”
Jack frowned. “Have you heard back from Daniel?”
“No, sir. I haven’t
heard from him since he left the airport.”
Landry exchanged glances
with O’Neill. “Do you think they’re in
trouble?”
Before Jack could reply, a
hard ‘What!’ could be heard behind them. The trio turned to spy Elizabeth Weir on her
cell phone. “Are you sure,
“It’s
okay, Dr. Weir,” Landry assured her. “We
already know. Dr. McKay contacted the
SGC as soon as he was arrested.”
“But why would they arrest
Rodney?”
Jack gently took her
arm. “I’ll explain on the way. Walter!”
“The C21 will be ready by
the time you reach the airfield.”
“And…”
“And I’ll let you know as soon
as we reestablish contact with Dr. Jackson or Dr. McKay.”
“Good man.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Ray knew that Walsh hated it
when Feds stormed in and took over a case.
They usually screwed it up or made things worse for the locals. In this case, they still didn’t know who was
involved or if it could lead to more chaos and injuries at the convention. On the other hand, Huey and Dewey had developed
tunnel vision concerning the Doctor and the Major. They wouldn’t be able to
find anything unless it proved the pair was behind the robberies, and both Ray
and Walsh had serious doubts about that.
So the Lieutenant had asked Ray to quietly continue looking into the
matter. That was fine with him; he had planned to continue investigating
anyway. Having Walsh’s blessing only
meant he didn’t have to be so sneaky about it.
However, the theory that the
Doctor and the Major didn’t have anything to do with it took a serious blow
when he watched the videos from the convention center security cameras. In one, he had seen the ball roll to Dr.
McKay’s boot and Dr. McKay leaning over to pick it up. While difficult to tell with all the upset
people milling around, several viewings of the clip in slow motion showed a
brief flash of light before McKay stood back up without the ball. That meant three things: The ball reacted to McKay like it did to him,
McKay knew why it lit up, and he didn’t want it to light up in a crowd of
people.
A part of Ray was
disappointed. He had felt special when
he thought the ball only lit up for him.
Yet he still wanted to know why, and apparently McKay and company could
tell him. He needed to talk with the
Canadian doctor, which meant he had to meet up with Fraser and his
charges. Probably just as well his
friend would be there. Ray had learned
that
As Ray entered the squad
room, he spied the Lieutenant talking with the professor who owned the
artifacts. While he couldn’t hear the
words, Ray could easily pick out the raised voices. Considering how upset the prof
had been when they had the items, Ray could only guess how upset the man was
now that the CIA had them.
Frannie walked in, flirting with a tall, muscular man about
Ray’s age. Ray smirked. Frannie couldn’t help herself when it came to good-looking,
blue-eyed men. He’d never made her list,
but she had to pretend he was her brother in order to protect the real Ray Vecchio. To be
honest, he was rather glad about that. Frannie would chew him up for breakfast.
Frannie led the man to his desk and glanced around. Spotting Ray, she waved him over. Ray wove his way through the room and joined
them.
“Ray, this is Dr. Daniel
Jackson. He’s here about Dr. McKay. Dr. Jackson, this is my brother, Detective
Ray Vecchio.“
Ray shook hands with the
man, noting that he didn’t look nearly as bookish as Dr. McKay. However, McKay
had claimed to have called a Dr. Jackson about the ball, meaning he was
involved in whatever this thing was. “I’m sorry, but we’re no longer holding
Dr. McKay.”
“That’s what Miss Vecchio told me,” Dr. Jackson politely replied. “However, she said that you have connections
with the Canadian Consulate, and I’m rather worried about my friend. Can you arrange for me to meet with him?”
“Sure,” Ray agreed. “Are you also interested in the Major?”
“Major?”
“Major John Sheppard.”
The only visible response
from Dr. Jackson was a blink. But it was
enough to inform Ray that he hadn’t known about Sheppard’s involvement. “Yes, of course.”
Ray nodded in what he hoped
was an imitation of Fraser’s wise head bob. It was time for Fraser-like
fishing. “And do you know why the CIA is involved?”
“What?”
“In
person.”
“What did they look like?”
Frannie jumped in.
“They were tall, in dark suits and sunglasses. Very rude, too.”
Worry radiated from the
doctor. “Do they know where McKay and
Sheppard are?”
Ray felt his spine
straighten in tension. That didn’t sound
good and Fraser was with the pair. As he
opened his mouth, the phone rang. Eyes
still on
“Detective!” exclaimed a muffled voice Ray recognized as Constable Turnball.
Ray’s tension shot up
another notch. “What’s wrong?”
“Some men broke into the
consulate. They wanted to know where Dr.
McKay was.”
Ray took a deep breath. Fraser had called earlier, so he knew they
weren’t there. “Did you tell them?”
“Of course
not!” Ray could picture Turnball’s
indignation at the accusation. “But they
knocked me out, tied me up, and ransacked the Consulate looking for them.”
“Damn. Are you okay?”
“I’m still tied up.”
Ray could easily picture the
Mountie bound to a tipped over chair, lying on his
side while talking on a phone pushed off his desk. Mounties did have the rep
for being resourceful, and Turnball tried his best to
be the perfect Mountie. “What did they look like?”
Turnball gave him a quick description of their CIA agents.
“Do they know where Fraser
and your guests are?” The question drew
both Frannie and
“Not from here, but they had
received a phone call that made them leave rather hastily.”
“Damn!” Ray thought fast. “I’ll send a patrol to untie you, and I’ll
warn Fraser.”
He had just hung up when
another voice sneered, “Well, well, well.
Dr. Daniel Jackson. What are YOU
doing here?” Ray looked up to discover
that Professor Craig was standing next to them.
“Dr. Michael Craig. A real archeologist, not a
hallucinating hack like you.” Ray
exchanged looks with Frannie and Walsh.
With a sigh,
“What are YOU doing
here? Trying to weasel in on my
discoveries?”
“I’m simply here to help out
a friend.”
“Is your friend Dr. McKay,
who stole my artifacts?”
“Dr. McKay had no interest in
stealing your artifacts. He simply
wanted to study one up close.”
“Right. Like anyone’s
going to believe that story. Where’s my artifacts?”
“I don’t know.”
Craig turned to Walsh and
demanded. “I want him arrested!”
Walsh lifted an
eyebrow. “On what
grounds?”
“He stole my artifacts!”
Before
“And that’s ridiculous! I demand answers!”
Thinking fast, Ray declared,
“And I will get your answers, Dr. Craig.
I was just going to have a little talk here with Dr. Jackson.” He stared straight into
Craig stepped back, slightly
mollified. Walsh sent him a ‘I want your report ASAP’ look.
He quickly leaned over to Frannie’s ear. “Turnball’s in trouble at the consulate. Send him some help, discretely.” Frannie’s eyes
widened, and then she nodded. “This way, Dr. Jackson.”
Ray quickly led
“I understand plenty, Dr.
Jackson.” Ray then grabbed his arm and
dragged him out a side exit, which was quite a feat, considering the other man
was taller and heavier than Ray. “I
understand that our mystery agents just tore up the Canadian Consulate and beat
up an innocent mountie
looking for your friends. Luckily, they
weren’t there. Unluckily, they’re with
my partner at the hotel McKay checked into, so they’re not that hard to
find.” Waving at his car, he ordered,
“Get in.”
Once Ray had climbed into
the driver’s side,
Ray shifted as he backed the
car up violently, then nearly spun the wheels pulling
out of the parking lot. “I’m going to
drive real fast and hopefully beat the bad guys to them. And while I do, you’re
going to explain why the CIA wants your friends.”
“Then who does?”
Ray felt his frustration
rise. “Okay, let me tell you what I know. Number one, McKay shows a lot of
interest in a funny little ball in a display of ancient Greek doodads just
before it’s nearly stolen. Number two,
McKay and Sheppard have been on something so important and classified, the
Canadians just about tripped over themselves to rescue
McKay. Number three, some guys looking
all Men-in-Black come in and try to take both the doodads and McKay and
Sheppard, then later beat up a mountie looking for
them. Number four, you show up and look
very worried about the guys after McKay.” Ray spared a glance at his
passenger.
His passenger closed his
eyes a moment. They were resigned when
he opened them again. “I don’t know
about the ball; Rodney never had a chance to examine it. I don’t know who the men are, either.”
“Guess.”
Dr. Jackson sighed. “There
is a renegade group who disagrees with how the military is handling a certain
project. They would love to get their hands on the project and its results,
twisting it for their own purposes. If
what Rodney and I believe about the ball is true, it’s something they’d wish to
study. They’d also be highly motivated
to interrogate Rodney and use him for his knowledge.”
“What about the Major?”
“Sheppard,
too.”
Ray thought a moment. “Their interrogation methods rough?” He
glanced at the doctor’s face.
That meant they’d probably
consider Fraser expendable. Ray slammed
into a parking space at the hotel. “Then let’s get’em.”
The pair raced to a side
elevator. Ray could feel his body
tighten with tension as the elevator made its climb to the eighth floor.
The room was a mess. Cushions had been ripped apart; mattresses
were pulled off the bed frames; Clothing was strewed across everything. Ray’s eyes took it all in as he searched the
corners and the bathroom, grateful to not find the one thing he was fearing – bodies.
“No,
McKay’s cell.”
“Damn, I should have thought
of that.”
Ray snorted. “Fraser with a cell phone? Never happen.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Bay of Bengal Restaurant
McKay felt like he was in
heaven. He was working through a plate nearly
overflowing with Chicken Curry, Tandoori Chicken,
basmati rice, Vegetable Samosa, Vegetable Korma, and
plenty of Naan to soak up the flavorful sauces. The
good, wholesome, spicy food was warming his spirits as well as his
stomach.
Sheppard was also digging
into his choices from the buffet table like he'd never seen food before. This
was as far as you could get from military MREs, and
John considered that a good thing.
Fraser's eyes met Mr. Singh,
the owner of the Bay of Bengal Restaurant.
A year ago, Fraser and Ray had helped the Singhs
with a band of muggers in the neighborhood. Ever since, the family had welcomed
them into the restaurant with open arms.
He was happy to see the
slight tremors in McKay's hands had disappeared. The fellow Canadian had become shaky in the
room. So when McKay explained he was hypoglycemic, Fraser immediately
recommended his friends' place. He knew they would receive fast service.
He quietly studied his
dinner companions. Their obvious pleasure in the food indicated that neither
had enjoyed such a meal in a long time.
It was only one more piece of evidence suggesting that they had both
been rather isolated on whatever classified project they were on. He felt the
secrecy in their careful words, yet in this case he couldn't hold it against
them. There was a depth there, of
important things that he was better off not knowing. The reaction from his own
government pointed that out. It was best
if he could quietly arrange for Dr. McKay to look at the ball, and then give
him an idea if his partner was in danger. Hopefully, the answer would allow
them to part ways without any trouble.
The sudden intrusion of
Mozart had Mckay searching his pockets and pulling
out his cell phone. "Hello...
Daniel?... We're eating... No, several blocks away... you're where?...WHAT!"
"McKay," Sheppard
drew out the name, making it sound like an order.
The doctor ignored him. "What about the laptop?...
No, there were only notes on the people I'm interviewing tomorrow... Are you
and the detective okay?"
"McKAY,"
Sheppard tried again, swatting his teammate's arm.
"Ow." McKay glared at him. "Just a minute,
Daniel." Placing the open
phone against his chest, McKay snarled, "You’re worse than a small
child."
Sheppard didn't take
offense. "What's going on,
Rodney?"
McKay sighed. "Daniel
Jackson and a Detective Vecchio are at our room. It's been broken into and ransacked."
"What?" Sheppard
declared, eyes growing hard.
"Vecchio
is my partner," Fraser interjected.
"Are they all right?"
"Yes." McKay brought the phone back up to his
ear. "Daniel?...
Yes, he's here... okay, just a minute."
McKay handed the phone to Fraser.
"The detective wants to speak with you."
Fraser took the phone. "Ray?"
"Fraser." He could hear the relief in his partner's
voice.
"What is the
matter?"
Ray quickly launched into
the story of fake CIA agents taking the evidence, how Turnball
had been attacked at the consulate, and of his and Dr. Jackson's mad dash to
the hotel. "Where are you?"
Realizing that the men who
hurt Turnball were probably still looking for them
and may have the resources to listen in or locate McKay's phone, Fraser replied
carefully, "at Singh's."
"We better get off this
phone." Ray's mind was thankfully thinking along the same lines as his for
a change.
"Agreed."
"We need to
regroup."
"How about the location
we hid H?" Fraser knew he was
asking a lot, but it was the first place to come to mind since his consulate
had obviously been compromised.
"Okay. Just be careful, Fraser. I don't like this."
"Neither do I." Fraser
disconnected the call and handed the device back to McKay. "You may wish to turn off your
phone. It can be traced while it's
on."
“Yes, of course. I just didn’t think anyone would be looking
for me.” Eyes wide, Dr. McKay immediately punched a button.
"What do we do
now?" Sheppard asked as he shut off his own phone.
"We are going to meet
my partner and Dr. Jackson." Fraser
waved at Mr. Singh.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Ray’s Apartment
Ray knocked the old signal
he and Fraser had worked out, then unlocked his
apartment door. Sure enough, Fraser was
there to meet him, the Major walking towards him from
the kitchen area. McKay was stretched
out on his sofa, obviously asleep.
Dr. Jackson walked in behind
him, his face worried as he studied McKay.
He looked at the Major. “John
Sheppard, right?”
“Right. You’re
“You two don’t know each
other?” Ray asked, puzzled.
The Major shrugged. “We met briefly. And that was nearly a year
ago.”
“He was up all night driving
in from
“What? Wasn’t he supposed to be relaxing?”
“I don’t think McKay knows
how to relax.” Sheppard caught
“I don’t know. But I’ll feel better once the SGC sends
reinforcements.”
Fraser quietly stepped into
the conversation. “Are we sure Dr. McKay
is the main target? Initially, the
perpetrators were targeting the display, specifically the ball. Could Dr. McKay be a target of convenience?”
“Ah--”, Ray tried to
interrupt.
“Possibly.”
“Ah—“
“Actually…”
“So this group may want
McKay to work with the ball,” Sheppard asked.
“Which they don’t have,” Ray
finally inserted. He nearly flinched as
three gazes focused on him.
Fraser especially looked
stern. “Ray.”
“Fraser.”
“Ray.”
“Fraser.”
“Ray!”
“Okay, okay.” Ray sighed.
“I hadn’t returned the ball to Evidence before the phony CIA guys showed
up.”
“So they don’t have the
ball?”
“No.”
“Where is it?” Fraser asked.
When Ray still looked reluctant, he said again, “Ray.”
“I gave it to Frannie for safekeeping.”
"You gave it to
Francesca?" Fraser repeated
incredulously.
"I didn't want those
goons to take it until I could figure out why it was lighting up for me. Frannie was willing
to help when I lit it up for her."
"Wait a
minute."
Ray blinked at the
attention. "Yeah, it glowed blue for me, but nobody else."
"It nearly lit up for
McKay when he tried to pick it up," Sheppard confirmed.
"And
Francesca. She's the civilian aid at the precinct,
correct."
"Yeah," Ray
replied, puzzled.
"Did the ball light up
for her?"
"No," Ray replied,
noting the concerned look on Fraser's face.
"Ray," Fraser
explained carefully, "The ball lights up for a person with a certain gene. Francesca must not have inherited that gene
from your parents."
"Oh," Ray muttered
as he thought. Then his eyes lit up as
he caught Fraser's meaning.
"Oh! No, I must have gotten
all the strange genes with the blond hair."
Ray glanced up at the clock
on the wall. "Frannie
should still be at work."
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Daniel quietly followed the
group into the police station, thinking about the strange company of men he had
found himself. McKay, grumpy from being
abruptly awaken twice within three hours, was sniping at Sheppard. What surprised Daniel was that Sheppard not
only took the verbal abuse, but happily snarked
back. He couldn’t help but smile; they
were worse than Jack and himself.
The detective who led them
to his department was a bit of a puzzle.
Underneath the poor vocabulary and casual clothing, Daniel had seen
glimpses of an observant and intelligent man.
Add in that he was a gene carrier and routinely worked with the
Canadians, he may be a good candidate for the Stargate
program. Yet there was something going on, especially with the sister, that he
and his mountie friend were
hiding. Daniel thought it may be a good
puzzle to dump on Jack, once he contacted him.
Then, of course, there was
the Mountie.
The Canadian was not only referred to as the
Ray walked up behind
Francesca and tapped her on the shoulder.
Her eyes first lit up when they spotted Fraser, but reluctantly dragged
her attention to her ‘brother’. “Ray?”
“Turnball?”
he asked.
“Huey said he’s alright,
just a few scrapes and bruises. They
were taking him to the ER just to make sure.”
“The
consulate?” Fraser asked.
“Mostly
just messed up. Inspector Thatcher is there to see if
anything was stolen. Dewey said that it looked like they were searching for
something.” She looked at Ray, worried.
Ray sighed. “Where did you hide the, ah, ‘package’, Frannie?”
“Someplace
safe, why?”
“I found who it belongs to.”
Frannie glanced behind him to spy McKay, Sheppard and
Jackson. Ray thought he could detect a
note of sympathy when her dark eyes returned to meet his. “Well, remember the whole ‘Guy’ thing?
“What guy?”
Frannie rolled her eyes.
“Not a guy, the guy named Guy.”
“Oh, yeah,
that Guy.” How could he forget
Guy Renkin? It wasn’t every day you find a dead body in the wall with the circumstantial evidence pointing
to the detective you were standing in for. “Kinda hard to forget that one.”
“Well, since you and Fraser
arrested the contractor, the hole was never repaired.”
“It was never repaired?”
Fraser repeated. “That was years ago.”
“And this is
Frannie shrugged.
“Well, that room still gives me the creeps. Figured anyone who still remembered the hole
would be creeped out, too, and wouldn’t mess with
it.”
“And we keep a poster over
it, so not that many people know it’s there.” Ray nodded to himself. “Anyone using the room?”
“Nope.”
Ray waved at the men
standing behind him. “Okay, let’s go.”
Frannie sighed as she watched the group troop across the bullpen
and into the side hall leading to the interrogation rooms. She almost felt sorry for her pretend
brother. She didn’t see the CIA agents
entered the area behind her.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Ray led the way into the
interrogation room and walked up to a poster, displaying a palm tree and a
sandy beach. Sheppard quietly drawled,
“There’s a hole behind the poster?”
As Ray pulled up the poster,
McKay remarked, “Big hole.”
“It started small when Ray
punched the wall, and then we had to widen it to get the dead body out.” Fraser
explained.
“Dead
body?”
“
“Actually, it was quite a
complicated series of events that led to Mr. Renkin
being placed in the wall, only to be found months later,” Fraser replied as he
watched his partner.
Ray’s muffled voice rose
from the hole. “And even more complicated and nerve-wracking
for us to unravel it.” He pulled
back, glowing blue ball in his hands.
“So that’s it,” Daniel
absently commented, his eyes taking in as much detail as he could from a
distance. “And it only glows if someone
with the gene holds it?”
“Apparently,” McKay replied
as he walked towards the detective, not nearly in awe of the object as his
colleague. “Though we
may need you to hold it in order to read the writing. The light is
rather distracting.”
Fraser tilted his head as he
thought. “Dr. Jackson does not have the
gene?”
“No, I don’t,” Daniel
replied.
McKay was reaching for the
ball when two men in suits stormed in, dragging Francesca in with a gun to her
head. Ray, who was about to hand the
ball to Rodney, jerked back, eyes widening when he saw the gun.
Sheppard, standing next to
the door, instantly straightened as his eyes assessed the situation. The pretty brunette sister of the detective
looked terrified. Behind them, John quietly
assessed whether he could grabbed the gunman without hurting the girl.
“What do you want?” Rodney
demanded.
“We want to trade the girl
for the ball,” one of the CIA men growled.
Ray switched his gaze
between the fake agents and Frannie. While he wanted to keep the ball, he couldn’t
let Frannie get hurt.
Yet he had no guarantees the fake agents wouldn’t take Frannie and the ball, or shoot them all once they had what
they wanted. He needed a chance, a
distraction, something to shift the odds to his favor. He had only one idea. “Okay.
Catch.” He tossed the ball into the
air towards the men.
As Ray expected, his
‘sister’ and partner reacted. Frannie felt the hold
around her loosen as the man watched the ball.
She jerked her arm out of his hold and slammed her elbow into his
stomach, just as she had learned in her defense class. Prepared for any move his partner made,
Fraser tackled the second fake agent.
What was unexpected was that
the ball, instead of an easy up into the air and fall to the ground, changed
course mid-fall and flew to McKay. Ray
took a moment to blink in surprise, then jumped in to
help Frannie.
Rodney, shocked to see the
blue ball of light zoom to him, jerked his arms back so the ball lightly
bounced off his chest. It then zoomed to
Sheppard, who had stepped forward to help Ray.
John grabbed it, only to let go when the ball changed to red and made a
loud electronic snort. The ball then
bounced off Ray’s back as he struggled with the gunman, changed back to blue.
It flew to Rodney, whose attempt to grab it resulted in it smacking his
elbow. As Rodney grabbed his funnybone, the ball began to fly towards Sheppard, who was
now on the floor with Ray yanking the gun out of the fake agent’s hand. The ball again changed to red when it bounced
off Sheppard’s head, then changed direction in mid-trajectory, heading for the
door. It gave another snort of protest
when it was captured by Jack O’Neill, who had just entered. Thinking fast, Jack thrust the ball into
Elizabeth Weir’s arms. The light died as
soon as the General’s hands left the ball.
“What the hell is going on
here?” Walsh demanded, entering just behind
“That’s what I want to
know,” O’Neill snarled. He turned to
Daniel, who hadn’t had a chance to move from his position in the back of the
room. “Daniel.”
Mindful of the civilians in
the room, Daniel calmly returned, “Jack.”
Knowing Daniel wasn’t going
to enlighten him, Jack turned to the one person who had to answer. “Major.”
Sitting on the floor helping
Ray hold down the gunman, Sheppard shifted uneasily. “Well, sir, you see, sir, McKay found
something, then he got arrested, then our room was ransack, that was after the
Canadians got us, sir, then we came here to retrieve the something, and –“
Rodney rolled his eyes and
interrupted, “And it’s a long story that needs to be told in a secure area,
General.”
“We don’t exactly go looking
for it,
“Hey!” Sheppard protested.
Walsh had had enough. “VECCHIO!”
“Sir, the CIA agents weren’t
real agents,” Ray immediately reported.
“They were after classified stuff Dr. McKay works on. They were holding Frannie
hostage so I’d give them the ball.”
Walsh pointedly stared at
his detective. “And why wasn’t the ball
in Evidence with the rest of the artifacts?”
“Ah, well, sir, you see –“
“As Dr. McKay suggested, Leftenant, it would be better to discuss this in a private
location,” Fraser smoothly interjected.
With a sigh reminiscent of
Weir’s, Walsh nodded. “Then let’s charge
these idiots with threatening police personnel, and have our long talk.”
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
"So, you two end up
in jail and had your room ransacked over this little ball?" Weir glanced
down at the ball still in her hands and between her senior military and science
advisor. They were standing in front of
her in the hotel room Daniel had rented, shifting on their feet and looking
like they were nothing more than two little boys caught with their hands in the
cookie jar. For two responsible adults
who were supposed to help her keep everyone else out of trouble, they sure
seemed to find the vast majority of it themselves.
"It's an Ancient
artifact,
O'Neill, sitting on a bed
while he watched
"Haven't had a chance
to look at it yet," Daniel replied.
"What?" Jack exclaimed.
"That's what it says,
roughly. 'Let the games begin.' Oh, and something here
about 'For Pleasure and Health'."
"Oh that's just
perfect!" McKay threw his hands up
in the air. "All
this over that stupid game!"
"What stupid
game?" Sheppard inquired, looking
as confused as the general.
"In the database, the
Ancients mentioned some kind of game that sounds like a cross between soccer
and maybe that Mayan game with the circle set perpendicular to the ground. It involves only using your feet and other
body parts besides hands to send it to your teammates and through the
hoop. The Ancients thought it was great
for agility and flexibility."
Daniel nodded along. "Probably what happened in the
interrogation room.
It thought you and that detective were playing the game. You and the detective were blue; Sheppard and
O'Neill, red."
McKay just shook his head
in disgust. "I get knocked over,
arrested, interrogated, put in a jail cell, and have my room torn apart just
for the Ancient version of hacky sack?"
O'Neill suppressed a
smirk. "Well, let's get this
artifact to the security detail outside, then we can get you and the Lieutenant
Colonel a new room."
Sheppard's head popped
up. "What did you say, sir?"
With a warm smile, the
general replied, "Well, we can't have a major in charge of Atlantis'
military, can we?"
"No,
sir. I mean, I'm still in charge, sir?"
O'Neill glanced at
Weir. "Wouldn't
want it any other way."
Sheppard's smile lit up
the room.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Two days later
Ray walked out of the
precinct, trying to suppress a yawn. It
had been another long shift, dealing with a group of Scrabble enthusiasts who
had gotten into a brawl over how to spell 'rendezvouses'." He was looking forward to a long shower and
pizza takeout.
When he reached his car,
he discovered the Air Force General leaning against it. Dressed casually in jeans with his white hair
gleaming in the setting sun, he commented, "Nice ride."
"Thanks." Ray stopped a couple of feet away and crossed
his arms. He hated to be reminded of the ball and the loss of that special
feeling when it had been in his hands. "I thought you guys took off for
"Well, I have
something to tie up first." O'Neill
tilted his head. "Can I sit in
it?"
With an 'Oh-what-the-hell'
shrug, Ray unlocked it for the general, then got in on
the driver's side. "What's
up?"
O'Neill sat a moment,
admiring the vehicle before stating, "You know, less than a percent of the
people on Earth could have made that ball glow."
That bit of news made him
feel slightly better. "Really?"
"Really,
Detective Kolwalski."
With the use of his real
name, Ray turned in the seat to stare at the General, his heart in his
throat. "What do you want?"
Continuing to slide his
hand over the dashboard, O'Neill instead asked, "Are you happy with your
current life?"
Ray blinked, feeling
lost. "What's that got to do with
anything?"
Finally the general turned
to face him. "Because
we need people with your gene. Especially someone who is smart, brave, familiar with international
dealings and can handle odd situations."
"I never thought I
was any of those things."
O'Neill smirked at
him. "I've seen your record,
kid. You're definitely those
things. And I can promise you, this assignment would be the adventure of a
lifetime."
Ray tried to digest
that. Giving up, he looked the general
straight in the eye. "What's the
catch?"
Sobering, the general
replied, "Once you take my offer, it will change everything. Your life, your perspective
on the world, everything. You’d
leave
"Oh. But what about my deep cover
assignment?"
"That's easy. Ray Vecchio will
leave the force, take a classified job with the US Air Force, and never be
heard from again until the real Ray Vecchio is ready
to reemerge. No one needs to be the
wiser."
Ray sat in thought. He rarely saw his family, so that wasn't a
problem. He had to admit he was deeply curious about the ball and where it
would lead. But it would mean leaving
What started as pretending
to be a partner to the Canadian had become the strongest friendship he had ever
had. He couldn't leave
Lifting his head, Ray
quietly answered,
"Thanks for the offer.
I never thought anyone would want me for something like that. But I'm happy for now."
Instead of being upset,
the general simply nodded. "I can
respect that. And here's my card. If you ever change your mind, contact me." O'Neill stepped out of the car and walked away.
Ray looked at the card, then slipped it into his wallet. He had already learned that life could dump
on you when you least expected it.
Perhaps some day he would take the general up on his offer.
The End.
Posted: September 13, 2008
Return to: Cindy's Locker