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Chapter Text

The silent shock of travelling through the gate caused her to gasp and stumble, as she stepped out of its kaleidoscopic hold. The shock still gripped her, in its taut hold, as her name was being called out and she was forced to concentrate, to shake off the ice, the fear, the elation to answer. It took her two goes, a cough, a swallow, before she was able to squeak out a 'yes'. Being brought back to memories of school and doing similar at the morning register there, wanting to hide under her desk, from the overwhelming weight of everyone's judging stares. Pigeonholing her as 'useless' already, from day one and word one. 

She was herded away from that discomfiture by soldiers. Moved away from the gate and her stumble by harsh holds. She took the opportunity to take in her surroundings, as she was led away. Catching the gaze of someone who stood up high above her, as she shuffled along in the crowd. His hands gripped the railings. She blinked, and felt her face heat when he offered her a smile. She blinked and held his gaze. Offering him a returned smile. Then she felt someone jostle her side and her gaze and smile were both snatched away. 

She obeyed more orders and stood where she was told to stand. Allowing her attention and her gaze to drift around the large hall that she waited in once more, while she stood and listened to Representative Richard Woolsey's welcome speech, while clutching the one bag that held all of her allowed and vetted belongings. She took in the cut-off circle that she had just walked away from. Then flew her gaze around her, taking in the industrial walls and floors that were softened by warm lights and green foliage of plants that she didn't know the name of, that sat in pots, their branches and leaves, coiling up columns, or hanging from balconies. Noting what looked like the bright lights of an airport control room up above her, on a high balcony where people sat at terminals and watched over them all, like hawks watching mice. Her gaze floated around the grand space of the gate room. Looking up and around and then she caught him again. Another smile was gifted to him. She received another in reply. Again they were parted by movement. This time of names being called out to separate the large mass of people into smaller groups. 

Then the jostling began again, as each smaller group was sent off, following after someone, who led them away from that large hall. She shuffled along at the back. Pushed there by the keen crowd, as they followed after their appointed group's leader. 

The shoving and pushing, she was used to that, being so short and small. But the barging was too much. It caused her arms to be banged and for her hold on her bag to slip and slide in her scrabbled grasp, until it escaped and was dropped. Causing her to plop a hissed-out swear onto the ground to join it. A staccato 'fuck!' joined that first swear and her bag, as she reached out to grab up her precious belongings. 

But other hands reached her bag first. Another set of large hands lifted her bag up. She followed their motions and raised herself up too. Standing up, raising her head, she followed the arms that belonged to the hands, skimming over the broad chest. Blinking at the wide smile that, well, smiled at her. Moving her gaze up from there, her sight headed up and up to view the brightest, bluest of eyes. Eyes that smiled at her and had her face heating and her own eyes blinking, as well as widening. Blue eyes, framed by small, round glasses, smiled at her. A beautiful, bright smile, that offered crow-footed-crinkles at the corners of those bright eyes. Proof that smiling came easy to this man, whoever he was. The deep sound of a soft chuckle, caused her own face to reply to his wide smile with one of her own. But her smile was not as carefree as his. Hers was half-hidden by a downwards tilt of her head.

A smile. A touch. Blue? Yes! The bluest of eyes. The brightest of eyes. The kaleidoscope of colours that she had seen when travelling through the Stargate were replaced by blinding blue and blue and blue. Caught in their ocean, their impossible skies. Trapped by the wings of something unknown and known too, yet ignored. Time stopped and she was there. Peering into the depths of another's gaze. Staring at him, staring at her. Two end points, two singularities, linked by nothing and everything in-between. A word. Did he say it? Did she? The word was repeated. Him… He… 

"Kočičko…"

He blinked and the connection was lost. 

She blinked and the connection moved. 

"Your bag…"

She looked down and saw that he held out her forgotten belongings. She reached out to take her bag from him, grabbing the handles where he held them. But more than her bag was taken up.

Touch. Fingertips barely touching. Gently brushing. Lingering. Longing for more. And more on top of that. 

Her hot, dry throat and tongue wouldn't comply, so all that came out of her mouth and dropped at his feet, was a high pitched squeak.

"Here… Myško…"

A deep sound. From his throat, his chest, reverberated around the zinging static of the space between them. A guttural sound. But merry. Laughter. 

His. At me?

The uncertain bite of his laugh was tempered by the lighting sharp shock of his touch landing on her unprepared fingers as she reached to take her belongings from him. Touch. Warm. Soft. Generous. His fingers brushed over hers, as she took her bag back. Her touch fled from the surge of energy from him. But then cried at the loss and moved back. Shifting. Touching his warmth, stealing from him. Before he moved away and she was left bereft and cold. 

A sound to her right. A shove. She shuffled. Warmth on her arm steadied her and unraveled her. His hand. On her arm. She watched his face. A frown, a glare, a mumbled word in a language she didn't understand was fired off at the shover. The blue turned dark and spat fire. 

"Myško?"

What does that word mean? Is he making fun of me in his language?

The blue pulled her back. Sweet, smiling skies shone down upon her. Wrinkles around their corners, gifted her proof that he meant no harm by that word. A squeeze of her arm and then he removed his comfort from her. She swallowed down a moan of complaint as she was left cold and barren.

"Here, Myško, welcome to Atlantis."

His voice. Deep. Strong. An accent. European. East European? She didn't know enough to be able to pin it down. All the noise that surrounded her fell away and it was just him there, speaking, telling her about the hall, the city, the planet. She listened but the words flew around her like a flock of startled starlings and didn't settle. She stared into the most impossible blue eyes. Bright. The colour of a frost filled morning. Yet warm as a summer sky. A siren song. A call to arms. 

"You had better hurry along, or your group will leave you behind. Here, your belongings, yes?"

He said something else and leaned towards her. She reciprocated. Following, flowing after him. Leaning in closer to better hear him. Not knowing why. Knowing only that she needed to move closer. She whispered a reply to his question. "Oh… thank… thank you… I…" But her words were severed, cut, trimmed away from her throat, before they could be birthed. 

Touch. An explosion. Fireworks. She felt the zap of something warm and soft and gentle touch her fingers, scurry up her arm and curl around up in her chest, when she took her bag from him. The touch of his fingers against her fingers. A stolen touch. A touch as beautiful and as warm as his smile. Although, as she watched, in stunned silence, his smile straightened and was replaced by wide eyes and an open mouth.

She sucked in a breath and saw how the blue turned dark and his voice turned deeper. She leaned closer. Wanting more. All sounds fell away. All sight fell away. There was just him. Nothing else. Too much. Too much. Overload. The touch moved. She leaned in closer. A word. A call. A deep, dark promise of something sweaty. Intertwined limbs. Panting breaths. Promises. Desires. She licked her lips. Wanting to test. To taste. To speak. To ask. Her throat was too hot. Her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. Another word. Deeper. Darker. Primal. Yes. Yes. Yes. A smile. Blinding. Bright. A shot of blue. Yes. The touch left. She chased after it. Reciprocating. Blue fled. Darkness returned. Oblivion returned. Him. He. Silence. A breath out. She swallowed. Breathing a shaken normality deep into her chest.

"Um… My bag…?" she whispered to him, giving her belongings a small tug. Not enough to part their shared hold of it. No. She would rather have stayed there, holding hands, holding that lightning sharp zap for the rest of the day and night and next day, if she was given a choice. But the crowd was parting as they would be seen. And if she knew anything about anything, then people would start laughing. So this moment needed to end. 

"Bag…?"

"My bag… You've…" She took what she could, taking something, anything, knowing that the touch she stole here and now, as she brushed a thumb over his finger, might be the only thing she had of this moment and of this beautiful, kind stranger.

"Bag! Oh, yes!"

She bit the inside of her cheek, as he pulled his hand away from hers. As he brushed his fingers over hers and severed the touch, the smile, the lighting-strike upon her soul.

"Maybe… Maybe I will see you around, Myško…?"

"Yes…" A breathy, light acknowledgement. She felt her face heat, saw his do similar, matched his wobbled smile with one of her own, as she hugged her bag and nodded at that bright, beautiful, distracting smile, as her word was offered as wispy clouds, dancing and floating around his summer skies. Her own face lit up as she saw how his face shone a smile at her soft-spun answer. And then the seas and the sun were gone and she was left there. Left clinging to her bag and the remembrance of the bluest of eyes, the brightest of smiles and the warmest of touches. Three promises. Three bright points of light to be hoarded for use in the darkest, meanest of times.

She took them and herself and moved towards where she was ordered. 

Running away. Running off. Chasing after her vanishing group. A quick turn of her head, as she skidded to a halt where her fellows were milling about in front of a door, revealed to her that the soft smiler was still standing there, where she had left his warm touch. His hand was lifted. His smile was lifted. Gestures that she mirrored and returned with a heated face. Then she watched him push his glasses up his nose, turn away from her. And then his smile, his touch, his chuckle and his words were vanished and gone and she was being shouted at to 'get a move on', once more.

But something tickled the back of her neck as she shuffled within the cloying crowd, causing the slender, short hairs there to prickle. She turned. Blue skies smiled their soft promise at her once more, from afar. They raised a hand. One that she knew was soft and warm and did not harm. Was his wave there, a promise to gift her more or a farewell forever?

She lifted her hand and smiled back, offering him all that she had, sending a promise back to him. Hoping he understood. Her reward was white teeth revealed in a widening of his smile. Then she was shoved and her attention was snatched away. She twisted, standing on her tiptoes, frowning, wanting to steal one last look back, one last bask in his warm sunshine, but he was gone.

Myško…?

That word, it puzzled her. It was spoken with warmth. Nothing derogatory was held within those syllables, as how she was used to being addressed. Nothing lurid was held within those syllables, as how she was used to being addressed. No… Warmth was held there, within those deep sounded, soft spoken words. But there was something else there… 

Myško…? What is it? What does it mean…? Is it a derogatory word? No, it can't be, he offered me a proper smile when speaking to me. A true smile, one that reached his eyes. There was no fakery about that smile… I know, I can tell… I've been on the end of enough pretend smiles that show sharp teeth, and never reach the eyes, to know the difference… But… I don't understand…? Why smile at me? Not that I mind, but why choose me?

Another thing that she didn't understand was how that word, that smile, that touch, that man, haunted her mind during the rest of her day. She shook her head, as she found herself being laughed at and derided for dropping her clipboard, her notepad, her pen because she was too busy daydreaming about him and his smile and his touch and that word.

Myško…

Chapter Text

He saw how she stumbled, after coming through the gate. Noting how she was the only person of her group who stumbled, just as he had been. He saw how she grabbed hold of the person next to her to stop herself from falling, just as he had done. He frowned. 

Had she overthought the journey too, just as he had done? Had she sweated and fretted in the lead-up to travelling? Sending sleepless nights wondering if he'd made the right choice, even though he knew he had. Had she done and redone over and over and over again, the calculations, the science too? Her jacket had green flashings, not blue though.

He stood, waiting and watching for the signal from below. Seeing the sergeant wave his arm in the air, as the last person came through. Radek turned to Chuck and gave the order to close the gate. He peered down, rifling through the crowd, looking for her, finding her. 

There! 

She was shuffling along at the back. Mouth open, eyes wide, gazing around her. Just as he had done. He watched her, following where she was herded by the soldiers. His hands gripped the railings, as her head turned up and she looked up and her gaze trod towards him. He froze, as she caught him looking. He felt his face heat and offered her a smile, as an apology for intruding upon her inspection of her new home. He blinked and held her gaze. Watching a smile appear on her face. Feeling the corners of his mouth rise further at her acceptance of him. Then her gaze was snatched away, it was gone, she was gone. Her smile, her gaze, her. Pulled from him by someone walking into her, shoving her, where she stood, barging into her. His face fell, his smile turned to a frown as she was barged and shoved and turned away from him. He trotted down the steps, moving to stand near Woolsey. He scanned the crowd while he waited for the representative's welcome speech to finish. 

There. At the back.  

He watched as she peered around her, while the representative gave his speech. Her gaze floated around the grand space of the gate room. Looking up and around and then she caught him again. Another smile was gifted to him. He sent another in reply. Again they were parted by movement. This time of names being called out and the large mass of people being separated into smaller groups. 

A frown grew on his face, as he saw the jostling, as he saw her being shoved and pushed by the shifting crowd again. He was taken back, to another large space, a square, outside. He turned himself into a barrier, just as he has then. Of course, there was no damp handkerchief over his mouth and nose this time, there would be no tear gas, at least he hoped so. The mass of people, brought him back to that morning in the main square of Prague. A morning after a night of singing and drinking and gathering. The morning sight of soldiers sobered them. He stood at the fore, linking arms with his fellow students. Becoming the barricade and barrier that his grandmother had told him he could be.

Here, that barrier was needed again. She was too slight, too slender and small to stand up to the breeze of the others barging into her. Radek stepped away from his station and moved down the lit up stairs, moving down them, towards the gate. Waiting with Representative Richard Woolsey and the soldiers there, for the new citizens of the city to walk through the Stargate. 

The gate's waters parted and he smiled as he watched them all crowd through, their faces all lit up with wonder, just as his had been, when he had first walked through such a thing - a gateway to new worlds. Smiling as he saw his reactions mirrored upon them. Seeing them gawp and gawk around, just as he had done that first time through the gate to the city of Atlantis.  

He frowned as the soldiers nearest to him laughed and pointed at the female complement. His frown deepened, as he heard them speak, picking up the term 'fresh meat', along with other things. He shifted, stepping away from those smiling predators. Straightening his back, turning into a Bohemian shepherd, smaller than its more common lookalike, but just as loyal and protective. Moving himself between the threat and the sheep, as the crowd of new people arrived and gathered in the large hall that held the gate of Atlantis. 

He saw how the silent shock of travelling through the gate hadn't left some, how it affected some more than others, and moved towards a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, young woman who continued to gaze around and about her, while others shifted towards duty, when their names were called out. He smiled as he heard how she squeaked a small 'yes' out. 

Myško! A shy little mouse!

She was in the last group to be herded away from the gate. The last to be greeted personally by Representative Woolsey. Greeting each newcomer as one civilian to another, as the new Atlanteans were not military, they had green facings on their uniform - technicians. They were replacing the military, taking on their more menial duties. Freeing up the black uniformed to guard and do whatever military types did.

He nodded and smiled at each person, as each group was sent off, following after the new leader of their team, who led them away. 

Curiosity stepped him closer to where the little mouse still gaped and peered around her. Watching her, as her eyes fluttered around the large hall that she was standing in the centre of, clutching her bag. A bag that he knew would hold all of her allowed and vetted belongings. He stood and watched, as she did just as he had done, when he had first arrived here. She spun and stared at her surroundings: the cut-off circle that she had just walked away from; the industrial walls and floors; the control room sat up high, where people watched over them all, like hawks watching tasty, little mice. Then it was the turn for her group to move. 

He frowned as she was jostled to the back by the crowd, when they followed after their appointed leader. Stepping closer, with faster strides, towards her, as he noticed how she was being barged. He lifted his chin and strode forth into the fray, using all he had been taught back then, a lifetime ago, to shove his way through the milling mass of new people. Pointed elbows, a loud voice. They brought him to her, where she was. He shifted the others away and arrived in front of her, just as her arm was knocked, causing her bag to slip and drop out of her hold. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, as she spat out a pair of tasty swear words. 

Bending down, he grabbed her bag for her, lifting it up. He picked her fallen bag up, but failed to offer it back to her. Instead, he followed her gaze, as she took in his hands, then his arms. Watching her gaze rise up and assess him, skimming over his chest. Smiling as her gaze landed there, on his lips. Until finally, she met his eyes, latching onto his own gaze, leaving him to stare at a pretty pair of hazel eyes. Eyes that blinked and widened as they stared at him and belonged to a sweetly blushing face. He dropped an amused chuckle into her hands and congratulated himself as that made her own face smile back at him. Taking note of how her head was tilted down, her gaze peered up at him, but was guarded by her eyelashes.

A defence mechanism. This little one is ready to run! She has no need to do so from me… I'm a nobody, a scientist, not a soldier, I have no quarrel with her, I offer her no harm, I wouldn't know how to harm her, even if I wanted to.

Eyes. Pretty hazel eyes. They caught him, trapped him, and froze him. He was a small, fear-filled rabbit, caught on the edge of the hazy promise of an unknown autumnal wood. Green leaves, turning to amber around the bountiful beauty of brown hazel boughs, wafted their promise at him beneath her long, fluttering lashes. Beckoning him. Tempting him from what he knew, towards where he had vowed to not tread. Green and amber and brown drew him closer. Dancing for him, mesmerising him. So he trod closer, ignoring all of his own warnings and stepped into her forest. His harsh learned vow was flung aside and forgotten, as he lost himself amongst the branches and depths of her quiet delights. Giving up himself, as he wandered closer, wanting to pluck the sweet harvest that her autumn eyes promised him.

A change of light, a slight shift of her head. He followed her movement, keeping the thread of their connection intact. Holding her there. Holding himself there. Her eyes changed. The autumnal light within there glowed bright and beautiful and strong but another hue took over. Another colour grabbed a-hold of him and pulled him closer. Cats' eyes watched him and waited to see what he would do next. Cats eyes peered up at him, a soft, small predator watched and waited, as he watched her. Causing him to become the prey that he had ever-refused becoming again. Until now. Until she smiled up at him. And he was lost in the cat-eyed, emerald green that danced within the hazelnut and amber of her kaleidoscope eyes.

"Kočičko…"

She shuffled and the connection moved. 

He blinked and the connection was broken.

He felt something heavy in his hands and remembered. Recalling what he had picked up an aeon ago, before he was lost in the autumn glow of her coppice.

"Your bag…"

He held out her forgotten belongings. Watching her, as she reached out to take it from him, grabbing the handles where he held them. He sucked in a breath as her warmth overlaid his hands there.

Touch. Fingertips barely touching. Gently brushing. Lingering. Longing for more. And more on top of that. 

He swallowed. Moving the longing, the fear, the loneliness, the delight away from his hot, dry throat and a tongue that was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Smiling as a high pitched squeak fell out of her pretty lips. Hoping that she suffered as he did, misery and joy did love company, after all. 

He swallowed again and tried to speak. "Here… Myško…" His words came out deep and gravely. Laden with something heavy and dark eyes that he had not felt since… since too long ago, since forever.

He watched her face redden, felt his do the same, as her fingers brushed a lingering kiss upon his.

He watched her face, her pretty face, as a smile grew there. A delight, beautiful to behold. A smile for him and no-one else. Given through the red of a becoming blush and tilted head, where she peeked up at him, hiding her hazel forest from him through the soft branches of long, coy lashes.

A deep sound fell from him. Bounding around his chest, like an over exuberant labrador puppy. It barked and leaped and dragged the static lightning, that connected the space between them, all over and through his body, not just confining his emotions to where they had touched. The sound was a guttural sound. Deep. But merry. Laughter. 

He held her touch there. Craving it. Hoarding it. Moving his hand. Gifting the bag containing her belongings up to her, but chaining her to him with his fingers now placed on top of hers. Not wanting to give her up, nor the lighting sharp shock of her touch landing on his unprepared fingers as she reached to take her belongings from him, just yet. Hoarding her, keeping her, wanting her touch. Her warmth. Her generous softness to stay intertwined against him forevermore. He moved again. Daring. Pushing himself. Doing as he was told. Stealing what he couldn't, what he shouldn't have or want or desire. Yet he did. He stole one last, lingering touch from her, as he brushed his touch over her fingers, as she took her bag back. Taking her touch, the overbearing, overpowering lightning sharp surge of energy of that first contact, away from him. She moved, she shifted. She stole back what he had thieved from him. Her fingers shifted and she stole a touch from him. Leaving the tingling sensation of the zinging, singing zap of her touch there across his digits. And then she was gone and he was left with goosebumps along the back of his neck and along his arms. Left flexing his fingers, as if he had just shoved them into a live socket. 

A sound to his left. A shove. She teetered, her feet shifted. His hand shot out and rested on her arm. Not grabbing. Not taking. But giving. Offering her the steadfastness of his barricade, his barrier, to steady her and unravel himself, as her warmth surged up his arm and coiled inside his chest. He frowned, he glared, he mumbled a Czech curse out at the shove-er. Narrowing his eyes at them. Moving them away. When they had received the sharp message and moved away, he turned back to her, seeing her smile up at him, seeing her offer him those amber, brown and green delights that he could so easily fall and fall and fall into and be lost forever within.

"Myško?"

Her smiling forest pulled the same from him. Raising up the corners of his mouth, crinkling the corners of his eyes, as he offered her the truth of himself. Stealing one last touch of warmth from her, as he offered her a reassuring squeeze, before he pulled himself back out of her hazel beauty and took his hand from her arm. Leaving him cold and bereft and wanting more.

"Here, Myško, welcome to Atlantis. You had better hurry along, or your group will leave you behind. Here, your belongings, yes?"

"Oh… thank… thank you… I…" 

A buzzing, fuzzing sound fogged his hearing, causing him to miss the tail of her words, when he felt the warm touch of her soft and gentle fingers touch his fingers, as she took her bag back from him. He took the opportunity to steal another touch from her, deliberately brushing his fingers against her fingers. A stolen touch. A touch as beautiful as her sweet, blushed smile. A smile that had him staring, a heated face, wide eyed, slack jawed, down at this beautiful creature who had just landed a stun grenade upon his fingers.

"Um… My bag…?" 

He barely registered her quiet, mouse whispers. Too busy was he with the way that she gave her belongings a small tug. 

No. I can't…

Their shared hold of their bag was not released. He stayed there, holding hands, holding onto that lightning sharp zap for the rest of the day and night and next day, if she was given a choice. He knew that the crowd was parting, that their moment would soon be seen and another gift would be given to McKay to mock him. This moment needed to end. But he could not sever this moment. Not yet.

"Bag…?" he stumbled that word out.

"My bag… You've…" 

He swallowed as he stared down at her bright red face. A beautiful red face. His mouth opened and closed, the words were swallowed back down, unformed, as he felt her thumb brush over his finger. Burning and branding him as he stood there, his magnificent brain doing a blue screen of doom, needing a restart, as he stared down at the beautiful stranger who held his life in her hand. A small movement from her. A miniscule tug of her hand and Zelenka.exe restarted and fired back to life.

"Bag! Oh, yes!" he blurted out those overdue words and pulled his hand away from hers. Daring to do something he never thought he ever would. Brushing his fingers over hers before he severed the touch, the smile, the lighting-strike upon his overcrowded mind. He stood there, waiting for the laughter, the derision, the sneer. But all he received was another sunburst bright smile. It gave him the courage to pile more words upon her lap.

"Maybe… Maybe I will see you around, Myško?" He offered himself to her. Wanting a yes, an affirmative. Expecting rejection. He had always had rejection thrown at his feet. So had given up, hiding in the safe cocoon of his work. This was the first time in decades that he had bothered to peer over the barricades of his science and try what he had vowed to refuse and reject. 

He waited, bracing himself for impact. 

"Yes…" 

A breathy, light acknowledgement floated up from her hazel delights. A yes. An affirmation shaped like forest mist that hit him and her amongst the thronging crowd of people in the gate hall. Her smile shone up at him and added to the weight of her heady answer. Causing his ears to buzz and ring and hear nothing but her 'yes…' And then the rest returned and he heard Woolsey speak and left her, taking her 'yes' with him, clinging to it, as he scurried away from her promises. 

He felt his face heat, saw hers do similar, as he matched her wobbled smile with one of his own. Widening his smile, as he saw how she hugged her bag and nodded up at him with that bright, beautiful, distracting smile of hers that had him poleaxed and the software slowing down and heading for another restart.

She had grabbed her bag and her hand and her smile and nodded at him, before she scurried away. Running from him. Chasing after her vanishing group. He kept his gaze upon her slender, slight form, ignoring his duty there. Ignoring all the others who still milled about. Smiling as the little mouse didn't fail him. She turned when she halted where her fellows were waiting in front of a transporter. He sent her one last smile and a raised hand from where she had left him standing there, where she had left her soft touch upon his fingers. She mirrored his gesture and smiled back at him with her sweet, rosy cheeks that he knew mirrored his own heated face. 

Myško…

He kept his gaze fixed upon her, as the mass moved in front of him. Watching the little mouse shuffle and shift where she was ordered. 

The prickling of goosebumps returned to him, as she turned and showed him the joyful autumn of her smiling eyes.  A promise to gift him more or a farewell forever? 

He raised his hand and felt his chest swell as she lifted her hand and smiled back, offering him all that he wished for, another yes, another promise. His smile grew, revealing his teeth, with the widening of his smile. Then she was shoved and she was snatched away from him. He shifted, moving, trying to grab one last glimpse, but she was gone.

His glasses were pushed back up his nose and he turned away from her. Leaving her smile, and her touch, as he saw her being herded away from him with a gruff 'get a move on' from one of his team who would get a stern dressing down later on.

Myško… Little mouse…

It puzzled him. How she had looked at him with such honest warmth and no judgement. Judgement that was rife here. Nothing derogatory was held within her soft, stolen touch. Nothing derogatory was held within her sweet smile. No… Warmth was held there and offered to him. But there was something else there… Something more… 

Myško… Little shy, innocent mouse… Who will be eaten alive by the wolves here!

Her smile, her touch, that woman, she haunted his mind during the daytime and his dreams at night. He shook his head, as he found himself being laughed at and derided, even more so than usual by Rodney, for being caught stumbling over easy calculations that should have taken him seconds to complete, but instead, took minutes that felt like aeons, because he was too busy daydreaming. He allowed himself the relief of some choice Czech swearwords and praised the Lord that that ancient tech didn't allow anyone to telepathically see or hear what and who his ridiculously soppy thoughts were about. Swearing, because his taut, harsh work-filled mind was being invaded by a little mouse.

Myško…

Chapter Text

Sitting up on her bed that night, the first night in Atlantis, the first night, alone, in her allocated room, she stared around her small quarters. It was a dark space. No windows. She hadn't thought to bring any wall hangings or photos in her one bag of belongings. Even the teddy that usually lay on her bed at home, had been left behind. This was a new start. A new beginning. She was running. Fleeing as far as she could from an old, destroyed life. But only for a year. A year's reprise from having to think. A year of being a minion. A small cog. A lesser being. Not having to think about anything. Not having to think about…

Don't go there… Don't…

She switched the light off and lay down on her bed. Lying on her back. Closing her eyes against the night of that day. A smile lit her dark mind up and beckoned to her. She played that moment over in her head. Thinking of him. Trying not to think of him. Pushing the distraction of him away in the end. Pushing bright blue eyes that had greeted her arrival away. Not shoving that memory though, not pushing at it with harsh hands though. The brightest of memories was folded neatly, placed in a safe drawer in her mind-scape, to contemplate on at a better time. Something relaxing, not invigorating, was needed now. Something to push the restless excitement of those bright eyes and that touch away. Something to calm the brash harshness of a day filled with orders and too much information that had her mind spinning and flickering with an overload warning and shouted words from her supervisor because she was too slow to move and asked too many questions. Those memories of today were shoved and kicked and beaten away and down. Shoved and pushed without ceremony into a dark trunk, to be locked away.

Settling down, she pushed all of her memories of today away and back and decided to settle on something more mundane and less bright with the energy that had coursed through her whole being when he had touched her, when he had smiled at her. 

No, no… Leave that be… I need to leave him be… Nothing will come of nothing there!

She scrunched her eyes and shook her head and walked away from the drawer she had placed him in, to prevent that brightness from escaping and keeping her awake. She tried further back, walking away from today. Going back to rummage through memories before that most brightest of them. Going back to her training and how it had all been remembered but forgotten too, when she had stepped through the gate for the first time, to come here, to the lost, but now found, city of Atlantis.

Yes… This will do. Boring… Mundane…

"So, you're all about to travel through a Stargate! And I bet you're all probably wondering what that feels like, yes?" 

The sergeant who had lectured all of the new signatories, had spoken with a clean, crisp, loud voice, while he smiled and paced in front of his rostrum. His large hands were clasped behind his back, as he addressed his captive audience, in the large lecture hall that they were all crammed into on their first day of induction.

"Well, I've been where y'all are! I've sat where y'all are sat. I was told the same thing, that I've told y'all. That the gate awaits you! And I thought what y'all are thinking! 'What'll it be like, what'll happen?'" He had paused there, smiling, smirking, waiting for the murmuring to quieten. "Well, that's why y'all are here today, in this debrief, listening to me! I've been through a Stargate many, many times and each time is like the first. Each time I've stepped up the ramp, and walked towards that there gate, I had the same sense of trepidation, the same fears about 'what if I'm disintegrated and never come back!', before my first time. But i was told by my sergeant to get a grip, to step up and step through. Y'all are civilians and I've been told that I can't do that here. So…" He paused again. Grinning at the wide eyes and open mouths and fidgeting in his audience. "Adventure, discovery and wonder about the new world that awaits y'all, is what you need to focus on! Not death and disintegration! Think about all the unknown marvels that y'all are about to see, when you walk through the gate for the first time. Focus on that! On the truly exhilarating feeling you'll have, from the very first time you step through!" Again, the lecturer paused, pacing, while watching the bright faces watch him. 

Her thoughts paused too. Wandering off to wonder if he had sat through this same lecture, with the same lecturer and had felt the same trepidation that she had? Or if he had watched the lecturer speak with the same bright concentration that he had lain upon her, in the gate hall here, today? She shook her head, freeing herself from the blue netting, running back to the lecture.

"Today, I'll be showing you some video simulations that our brightest scientists have come up with that'll show y'all what it'll be like stepping through that gate. Y'all will hear accurate testimonials from previous travellers too. All so that you can get an understanding about what you can expect to see and feel as you walk through a gate. And all because I can't just kick y'all through the gate, like my sergeant did with me! Sent through without any of this mollycoddling that you're all getting. But then, y'all are civilians." He paused. Allowing that slur to sink in. "So, to make your crazy little civilian lives all the more cozier, we will dive through a virtual Stargate together, holding hands, singing songs and the like, or whatever it is that y'all do, so that when you walk through that gate by yourselves, it won't be an entire shock to your fragile selves!"

She trod forwards. Walking through her memories. Remembering how she had tried to recall those videos and testimonials that she had watched, as she stepped towards the ramp on earth. But her mind went blank. Fear had wiped the board clean, when she had stepped up the ramp, moving towards the shimmering pool of the Stargate. She recalled how that pool had shimmered like water, shining like the bright hopes of her youth. She remembered wondering if the pool would part and disappear just like her young dreams had done? Wondering, back then, if the travel would leave her staggering and stumbling, just like her shattered hopes had. Her face reddened at the remembrance of how she had indeed stumbled, how she had been the only one of her group who had done so. Her eyes scrunched and her fists tightened at that acute embarrassment. 

Was that what that word he called me meant? Myško… Does it mean 'fool who stumbled'? But then his words were kind, said with a smile, his touch was such too…

Again, she shook her head free of his smile and walked back to those induction lectures. Remembering how, after giving that first speech, the trainer had smiled and pointed to the screen behind his back and in front of where the group of virgin travellers, including her, were sitting and waiting and watching. The large lecture room had darkened and the screen had lit up. She had sat there, watching and waiting. Wondering what the videos would show. Wondering what the video testimonials would tell her. A smiling Colonel had appeared on the screen. There had been murmurs of recognition throughout the theatre, but she didn't know who he was. Then he had spoken and all had hushed to listen to his voice.

"As you approach the Stargate, you will feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The unknown awaits you on the other side, but you will be ready for whatever lies ahead. Remember your training, remember to take a deep breath before you step onto the platform and feel the hum of energy beneath your feet."

'Unknown.' That was the part that scared her and fascinated her in equal amounts. 'Unknown.' Like the owner of those smiling blue eyes and gentled touch. 'Unknown.' Like the word that he had called her. 

Myško…

A shake of her head, freed her mind from his unknown touch and had her listening to the Colonel once more.

"As the Stargate activates, a brilliant burst of light that looks like a geyser, just like Old Faithful, will throw itself from the gate, then settle and form a shimmering, gleaming pool of water. This is your doorway, your gateway to the unknown. This is the point where you need to make yourself ready for the most amazing journey you will ever take. A journey that takes you millions of miles in a few seconds! But, don't leap, don't run! You should wait… And take a moment to feel the energy of the Stargate, as it waits for you to commit yourself to it. You will be told to hold there, until it's your moment to go. Then, when you get that nod, now is your moment. Then you can move and step through the event horizon."

The Colonel had saluted and the screen had gone blank. Then, the theatre had brightened, leaving her blinking, as the lecturer returned to stand in front of them.  

Hands had rushed up and the room had buzzed with questions. 

'What's it like?' 

'What does it feel like?'

'What does it look like?'

The sergeant had laughed and had told them to hush and listen and that all would be answered. The room had darkened once more and then more videos and testimonials were played. Filling several hours of their time. The last thing to be shown were simulations of what going through a gate would look like, were played, while the sergeant spoke up to describe what the video showed.

"When you take that first step through, you'll feel a strange and powerful pull, it's indescribable, but the best I can say to y'all is that it feels as if you're being stretched and compressed at the same time, put through a wringer and stretched out, then rolled up into a ball and squished back up again! It's a sensation unlike anything y'all will ever feel before. Exhilarating and disorienting. Like a late-night drive-through when you're in the back seat with a girl you've not got to second base with before. You might feel a rush of energy, electricity coursing throughout your body…"

Like when he touched my hand…

"…you may see lights, bright colours…"

Like when he smiled at me…

"…you may feel overwhelmed…"

Yes! Yes…

"…and want to scream…"

No… not that… gasp, maybe…

"It's an indescribable sensation…"

Yes… when he touched my hand, I'd never felt that before…

"…as if every cell in your body is alight and burning and alive and buzzing…"

Yes… Yes! They did! When he touched me…

"While the very molecules of your body are being rearranged."

Yes… Who was he? Who is he? How…?

Again, she shook her head, trying to tread away from the strange sensations, the strange man, who held her around the throat with his soft fingers choking all other thoughts out of her head.

I need to sleep, I need to rest, I can't go there… I can't!

She gritted her teeth and fists and ran back to the safety of some of the mathematical calculations that she had found out were behind the wormhole calculations. She ran around the numbers and figures. Recreating them in her head. Hiding within them. Hiding from the bluest, brightest eyes that she had ever seen. 

The reassurance of the steadfast mathematics and science had calmed her somewhat, in the days after that first lecture and the subsequent ones, all the way up until the night before her departure. Yet she had still suffered sleepless nights, every night of that induction, wondering if the rumours that she had heard of what would happen while travelling through the gate were true and if what she had been told in the lectures was false. 

The rumours had started on the first morning of the first day of her arrival in the mountain fortress where the Stargate was hidden. Rumours that whispered of people being frozen alive when going through the gate. Of people vomiting from seasickness. Of others who had passed out while travelling through. Of the awful effects of high G-force that stretched and pulled you like an elastic band. Of how some were lost and how others had become a dematerialised smear of atoms with no body to call home. Of how others had materialised as less then human, as a smear, as a scraping in a bucket.

Had he been as scared as I was…? 

Those rumours had disturbed her, keeping her awake all night, for several nights, wondering what the hell she had signed up for. But the money was good and better than the alternative, even if this year away in another galaxy, didn't utilise all of her hard-fought for qualifications.

I wonder what his job is here? He wore blue. So he's a scientist then. But in what specialty? What does it matter though! I'll not see him again. He's high up and I'm not!

Her brows furrowed and she turned to scrunch up on her side, gripping the pillow, grinding her teeth at the futility of meeting him again, or of getting a decent night's sleep here and now, even after she'd travelled through the gate and knew that those ridiculous rumours were false. She trod back to the lecture hall once more. Trying to use that to calm herself and to lose herself within.

"As you emerge into the new galaxy, your senses will be overwhelmed by the mind-boggling sight before you. The vastness of the star-scape, with countless galaxies stretching out in every direction, is enough to make you feel like an insignificant speck in the grand tapestry of the universe. The sheer magnitude of the celestial objects around you is awe-inspiring and humbling."

No… that's not humbling. Awe-inspiring maybe. The thought of stepping into a new world isn't scary. The thought of all those people, the crowd… So many people… Too many people…

She hugged her pillow tight. Allowing it to soak up her frustration and anxiety tinged tears away. 

So many people barging into me… yet he…

She clung to the bluest of eyes, as she listened to the sergeant lecture them again.

"The city of Atlantis is far, far away. But it's not a fairy-tale land of dragons and ogres. Oh no! The one y'all will be going to is one of tight order and military-led progress!"

Her grip tightened on her pillow, as she fell back into other rumours she had heard. Ones that weren't mentioned in any lectures or briefings by any of the smiling, uniformed lecturers. She had heard rumours of an enemy that sucked the life out of you. 

Vampires? 

"The colors and patterns of the new galaxy will mesmerize you…"

Just like his smile did… 

"The vibrant hues of the nebulae and the sparkling clusters of stars create a breathtaking tableau that seems almost unreal. It's like stepping into a painting, or a dream, where the laws of physics and reality as you know them seem to bend and twist."

She floated back to land with a bump, reminding herself that she wouldn't be allowed to see much of that. Not with the heavy work schedule that her fellow travellers and herself had also been briefed upon, just today, in Atlantis.

"But it's not just the visual splendor of a new city, a new planet, a new galaxy, that will captivate your attention…"

He did that… 

"The air itself will feel different, charged with an energy that is almost tangible…"

His touch…

"You may notice a different scent in the atmosphere – a mix of unfamiliar elements and gases that add to the otherworldly ambiance."

I wasn't close enough to smell him… Stupid. Step away from him!

She jumped back into a lifetime of training. Training before she had signed up for the Stargate program. Training and work that had certainly caused her to become used to so many different scents. In the job she had left for this one, she had been exposed to different scents that would make most people gag and retch. But she had become used to that now. She was immune to those scents.

"The sounds of the new galaxy are also unique and fascinating. You may hear the hum of distant star systems or the gentle whispers of celestial bodies as they dance through deep space."

His voice was so deep…

"Perhaps the most incredible sensation of all, will be the feeling of becoming a pioneer, an explorer, in a vast and unknown universe. Y'all here, you're some of the very few who will ever set foot in that new galaxy, that new city. Now doesn't that fill you with a sense of awe and adventure? Think of all of the possibilities that lie before you!"

She huffed to herself, as she lay in her bed, in her tiny quarters in Atlantis, trying to sleep. Huffing at the knowledge that she wouldn't be a pioneer. She knew that. She frowned at that now, just as she had done in that part of the briefing. There had been people living in Atlantis, sent there, from earth, as she was about to be sent, for four years now. She wasn't a pioneer. In no way, shape or form was she so.

My role here in Atlantis certainly won't be anything awe-filled or adventurous!

"As you take in the breathtaking sights and sounds of the new galaxy, don't forget to savour the moment you travel through the Stargate and appreciate the privilege of being able to do so. It's an experience that few will ever have! I did and now y'all too will have the chance to carry with you that feeling for the rest of your life! So, embrace the wonders, let it fill your souls, prepare yourself for the incredible journey that y'all will take very soon!"

Corporate nonsense, she had thought to herself back then and now too, in her bed, in Atlantis.

"The sense of adventure and discovery as you explore unknown worlds will amaze you."

She huffed at that too, back then and now, as she lay in her sleepless bed. 

There will be no exploring for me. My contract clearly stated exactly what I will be doing. My year contract is very explicit as to what I will be doing in Atlantis, and it definitely did not involve exploring unknown worlds! Except… him… he's the only unknown here…

"But just remember! You never know what lies around the corner, what might await you on the next planet!"

Like his touch, his smile…

"So, I hope you enjoyed today's debrief and are all prepped for your journey. There's one last thing y'all need to remember. The military are in charge of this show, so if someone in black tells you to jump, you ask how high! Well, go on then, off y'all go!"

She remembered being shuffled out of the lecture hall. Getting shoved and pushed, as always happened to her, trying to avoid the worst of the crowds that she hated so much. She had heard and seen enough to know that they were glossing over something there, as she was elbowed and barged. Just as she had been today. Until he had stepped in.

Why? Why did he bother to do that? To help me? A nobody? A no-one?

A shake of her head and she was transported back to early that morning. The memory of another sergeant came stamping and stomping, in big, black boots, back to her. He had shouted at her group. Shoving them up the ramp. Giving them the order to move out and up as quick as they can. Remembering how she did as she was told, how she had taken a breath, while clinging to her bag. Remembering how she had stepped into the vertical, shining water that wasn't water. 

Lightning. Heat. Burning. Ice. Freezing. Cooling. 

A heated touch. 

A freezing touch. 

Both had travelled through her, as the wormhole drew her into its hold, its touch, its power. 

Helpless. Floating. Falling. Freezing.

A gasp. A scream. Nothing. A soundless scream fell from her, as she travelled. 

Electricity burned and heated and cooled and froze. 

Joy, fear, anticipation, trepidation. For what it all meant, for what was to come. 

Another useless scream and gasp and cry fell from her, at what was happening to her, as she was held in the wormhole's lightning. 

Time stood still and sped onwards. She knew that she would only be there, in that bright, hot, cold space for seconds. But it had felt as if she was standing there for hours, for years, within the taut sunburst, the bright starburst of the wormhole. 

And then all of the excruciating, too bright, too light, kaleidoscopic, mesmerising, beautiful colours were snatched away from her and she was spat out. 

She had sucked a breath in. Disoriented. Gasping, she had staggered and stumbled and would have fallen flat on her face, had she not grabbed onto the nearest thing to her. A soldier's arm. She had offered him a mumbled, shaken apology and shuffled forwards, shifting her bag in her hold, running a shaking hand through her hair, before she stepped and staggered away from the smirking man in black. She curled tighter into a ball, on her bed, as the heat of embarrassment overwhelmed her. 

Fool! Fool! Myško! That must be what that word meant!

She recalled gawping about her, while soldiers in black stood at the periphery of her group of newbie travellers, herding them, hemming them in, moving them onwards like lowing, disoriented cattle. 

The hairs on her nape tingled as she lay on her bed, when she recalled how something had done that exact same thing back then, in the arrival hall. The prickling feeling in the hall had forced her to turn, to look up, to travel her wide-eyed gaze up to where her instincts led her. Her grip on her pillow relaxed, as she remembered how something had caught her eye. Remembering how something hooked her gaze and stilled her steps. 

Him…

A look, a smile. 

Him…

Someone was watching her. The watcher was standing on a raised platform above her. He was gripping the railing of a balcony up there. And as she had watched, his face had changed, he had smiled. Shock had forced her to blink and twitch the corners of her mouth up in a reciprocated reply. A connection was made, there and then. 

Him…

She relaxed and turned to lie on her back. Clinging to the comfort, the welcome, the joy that his smile offered her. 

Then that moment had gone, left, vanished, the connection had been snapped, when she was shoved and forced to turn away and see who had pushed at her. She turned back onto her side, curling up around her pillow once more, at the memory of how she had been jostled and shoved and forced to leave the welcome of his smile. She had apologised to the shover, then had shifted and turned back. She had looked back up in hope. But he was gone. And she was left alone again in the throng of people standing in that hall. She hugged her pillow here and now, alone in her room.

Myško… What did it mean?

A touch. A smile. Blue eyes. A bright pinpoint of unknown kindness. They soothed her worries and brushed the hair away from her brow. Smoothing her breathing. Settling her emotions. She fell into a blue sky and a word that was said with kindness. Unknown and unexpected. Lighting. Brighter than that of the Stargate, hotter than the Stargate, lulled her to sleep.

-

Myško…

A gasp. She sat up in her bed. Woken up. Left panting after a dream that involved him saying that word to her, while his touch travelled all over her body. His touch and his smile and that word were repeated over and over and over again. Until she had her sat up on her bed, awake and panting and pushing sweaty locks of hair away from her face.

A dream like that… It was not one that she had fallen into in a long, long time. And certainly not with anyone that she only knew from a few words, one touch and one smile. 

Infatuation. Must be the reason why he's invaded my thoughts and dreams… Infatuation, because he was the first one who offered me a kind word, the first one who offered me a gentle smile, when I had arrived here… Infatuation because he was the only one who did anything other than frown at me today, or jostle, or shove me. That's the cause of my fascination, my fixation, my infatuation with him, isn't it? I don't know him… I'll never know him! I need to stop this nonsense and try to sleep…

She lay back down, closing her eyes, falling back to sleep. Sleeping with murmurs of that strange word that she didn't know the meaning of. 

Myško…

A word that was whispered to her, while gentle, soft hands grabbed her smaller hands, covering them with warmth, as he smiled at her.

Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzz!

"Oh!" she gasped out and smacked her alarm clock as the buzzer went off. "Fuck!" Only an hour until her shift began.  

While showering and dressing, she pondered on him, that unknown man and the unknown word and the sleepless night and the frantic dreams that he had gifted to her. All gifts that he had handed to her, along with her bag yesterday morning. Gifts other than his gentle smile, his sweet kindness and his brief, soft touch. 

He ran around her mind, as she hurried to the area that was her section's headquarters there, in Atlantis, the city that would be her contracted home for the next year. She was berated by the manager for being late. Hearing titters from behind her at her failure. Another bad mark against her. Another heated face, as she mumbled an apology and hid in the crowd. She was told where her team chief was and accepted the duty and the shiny, new datapad that he handed out to her, without question. 

There was another brush of fingertips there, as she grabbed the datapad. Another smile was gifted to her, as she snatched her fingers away. This smile, this touch made her want to flee, to run. The smile held no brightness around his eyes. The touch held no warmth or lightning. Only a warning. It was the sharp smile and cold touch of a predator. She knew such things well enough.

Gathering her kit, she set about her duties. Determined to make a good job of it all. To not fail. Not again. Not here. Not when she had been given the opportunity to start afresh. 

Chapter Text

Various rumours about what travelling through a Stargate would be like had landed within his hearing, before he had so much as seen a gate, or even travelled to Cheyenne Mountain. He recalled all of them, as he lay in his bed that night, trying to relax. Trying to process a busy day that he had spent, orienting all of the new scientists that had arrived that morning and orienting himself too. Trying to calm himself, after a morning that had reminded him of his first time travelling through a Stargate.

He closed his eyes, walking back to before he had travelled to Atlantis, before he had travelled through the gate for the first time, before… 

The fingers of one of his hands strayed to those of his other hand, before he frowned and fisted his traitorous hands. Scrunching his forehead, he distracted himself away from that ridiculous path that was keeping him awake past when he should be fast asleep. Forcing his overactive mind to turn away from a nebulous path that was lit by a pair of bright, wide, smiling, shy, hazel eyes. He pushed his wandering and wondering thoughts away from there and dragged them back towards the solid ground of his beloved science. Forcing his fool brain to shift away from unknown nonsense that had distracted him all day and shoving his thoughts towards the sound foundation of known facts. 

He took a breath and ran over what he had been told that travelling through a Stargate would be like. How some he had asked, had told him that it was an extraordinary and exhilarating, uplifting experience. Others had said that the sensation of being pulled through that vortex of energy, felt like a rush of wind and caused a tingling sensation to travel throughout their body. Others had told him that it was a pure rush of adrenaline, wrapped up in a surge of curiosity, and rolled around in a sense of wonder. Those had all sounded like good things to him.

There were, of course, other, not so good things that he had heard about gate travel. One was that by the time you reached the other side, you would be frozen stiff, covered in frost and icicles, as if you were walking through a blizzard. Naked. He had no experience of that. All of his extremities were intact and not lost to frostbite, even though some were rarely utilised. Another thing that he had overheard, was that gate travel would hurt like hell. That it was like falling off a cliff, or having vertigo, motion sickness or sea sickness. That it turned your insides out and made you want to vomit. Also, he had heard that it was way worse than pulling out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at eight plus G's. Although he had no experience of that and had no intention of ever wishing to ever experience that! Those awful things all put him in mind of those episodes of Star Trek that he had seen, where unfortunate people had been reduced to a glob of pink gelatinous goo, when being beamed. 

No thank you! That kind of excitement is not for me. I do not need that! It's bad enough with the Wraith and the Genii! I don't need that or… Her…

He turned to lie on his side, shaking his head, not wanting to think of a touch, or of a smile. 

No! This is a distraction that I do not need!

He ran from the unknown and leapt back onto the well worn path of science. Running over the calculations that he had been shown by Sam Carter. Calculations that had solved the ice problem of gate travel. The icy coldness had occurred because the gate computer wasn't fully aligned. Finding the Abidos references had cleared that issue up nicely. Allowing the margin of error in calculating planetary shift to be fixed. He ran through the labyrinth of those calculations, losing himself, as he had done when he had first been shown them. He had comforted himself back then, telling himself that he could knock one horror off of that list of horrors. That he would definitely not be freezing his bits off when he travelled through the Stargate. And now, lying in his bed, in his quarters in Atlantis, the same calculations were pulled to him like old friends, offering him warm comfort and a cozy space to sit awhile. He threw himself into all of the calculations that he had been shown and others that he had winkled out by himself, from literature and from other scientists that had gathered in the Cheyenne Mountain complex. All readying themselves to take a leap into the unknown. 

He knew the mathematics and the science behind having your body de-molecularised at a sub-atomic level, so that your physical self was reduced to a pile of atoms. The speed at which he would be travelling through the wormhole was mind-boggling, yet known. He had done the calculations, he had seen the figures and facts. He knew that he would be travelling where his beloved science had told him was impossible and yet possible too. He knew that he would be travelling vast distances, crossing millions of light-years, in the blink of an eye. He knew that he would be thrown across the universe at such sheer velocities, that were incomprehensible yet also calculable, to a man of his learning, one who had a Cambridge doctorate. It wasn't all unknown. Not like…

A smile.

A touch.

Her…

His keen mind squashed those thoughts away, just as he had done with his fears about gate travel, back then, before his first gate journey. He had reduced his anxiety back then, by reducing the factors of gate travel down to a set of known facts. He distracted himself from the distraction of her, by running through that list once more.

Time dilation: High. I mean, that is a given with a wormhole.

G-force: Low. The G-force one didn't pan out then.

Visual distortion: High. I mean, it is a wormhole, so… 

Interstellar travel: Yes. Obviously.

Wormhole traversal: Yes. Again, obviously.

Energy consumption: High. Yes. Hence the need for the self-sufficient power station in the mountain that the gate is hidden within.

Spatial displacement: Yes. Again, given.

Temporal displacement: Yes. Given, again.

Communication delay: None. The radios and video footage proved that.

Reality bending: Possible. An unknown. Until I travelled through the gate and saw for myself, that is.

He chuckled at that last point, smiling as he lay in his bed. He turned to lie on his back, eyes open, too awake now. To alert to even try to sleep. Too full of the myriad goings and comings that night, after the flurry of activity from settling all of the new arrivals in his team of scientists that had arrived earlier that day. A sigh, before he closed his eyes, wondering if she had settled. She was not in his team, not one of his scientific, blue wearing newbies. She wore green. His eyes scrunched at the thought of never seeing her again. 

Is that for the best? Yes. It is. Probably…

He couldn't help but wonder what she thought of her first trip through the Stargate and allowed her to take his hand and walk him through his own recollection of his experience of seeing a Stargate for the first time, just as he knew those new arrivals had done today. 

He recalled seeing that beautiful, mesmerizing, mysterious device for the first time. A device that he had only ever seen, up until then, carved in stone or drawn by eighteenth century explorers, who were trying to describe what they had seen and how they thought it worked. He knew that the ancient carvings and fusty writings had been poo-pooed by modern thinkers and scientists. He had been one of those scientists when he had discovered and read some such writings that he had discovered in the basement of the Louvre where he had worked when he had found himself in-between his usual academic work for various universities. He had found the writings and poo-ooed them himself. Forgetting about them. Until Daniel Jackson had found him and had asked to meet him in Paris and had shown him modern-day photos that showed a circle of metal, blank and empty. The writings that were hidden in the depths of the Louvre, that he had found while working as a cataloguer there, were the missing part, the missing piece. He had found instructions for the activation device, the DHD. 

He had been lured to join the Stargate team and been shown more photos and a video of how that empty circle could be transformed into a swirling vortex that looked like a calm pond, or puddle, but a vertical one! But those videos and photos did little justice to what it actually looked like. Only knowing the full mystery and marvels of the device, when he had stood right there, right before that vertical pond, and seen the Stargate for himself. 

The sight of that rippling water, not-water, had left him breathless, in awe, amazed. It had left him wondering what unknown and the infinite possibilities awaited him on the other side. His scientific curiosity drew him onwards. Yet his feet had hesitated, as he had stood on that ramp, on his maiden voyage to Atlantis. He had paused there, midway up the ramp. He had halted and sweated, as his anxiety had dropped heavy boulders onto his shoulders and gripped his resolve around the throat. Causing him to wonder if he would be ripped apart by unknown forces, if he would vomit at the other side, or even between here and there, if he would cry out with the agony of being ripped apart. He had halted there, mid-ramp, fretting about if he would make a fool of himself when stepping out of the other side of the gate that he hesitated in front of.

But his latent curiosity had overcome his fear. A scientist's curiosity had overtaken his anxiety and had thrown the weight off of his shoulders and pried the claws from around his throat, allowing him to take a deep breath and to step closer to the Stargate. He recalled feeling a pulse of electricity travel through him as he neared the gate. A faint electrical buzz had filled the air. It sent shivers down his spine and had caused the hairs on the back of his hands, his arms and nape to tingle, to prickle and tickle and rise. 

Just like… No! Stop!

He had felt that latent energy permeate through the atmosphere of the hall that he hesitated in. It had gifted him a glimpse of the incredible power that he knew lay within the glowing portal. With each step that he had taken towards it, the anticipation had grown. It intensified the anxiety, bringing the boulders and claws back, causing him to pant and panic at the acute awareness that he was about to embark on something that might be deadly. But he had not been given a chance to stop, or run. Even his curiosity had to take a back seat and was left slow-footed, when a black-clad soldier had shoved at him and grabbed him and had dragged him and shoved him through the extraordinary thing that shimmered before him. The bright thought, his wide smile, that he was about to embrace the wonders of the cosmos and become the calculations he had lived and breathed, since he could write his name and count to ten, were shattered and dulled into a cry of 'Hey!', as he was shoved, unbidden into the silver wormhole.

He remembered how he had cut off his frowned shout and held his breath, when he had been forced into taking that last stumbled, dragged step into the shimmering event horizon of the Stargate. He fallen in. Staggering in an ungainly, unprofessional manner. But he was in. He had been shoved into the portal, where he had hoped that he would glide in like a short, bespectacled, Czecoslovakian swan. 

Just as I had fallen into her smile… 

His senses had been flooded, disoriented, overwhelmed by the wormhole. 

And by her…

He remembered the intense tingling sensation, as if every nerve ending was being stimulated simultaneously. 

Just like when…

The immense energy of the wormhole had coursed through his whole body. 

Just like…

The sensation he felt within the wormhole had made him howl out in pain. He ached, as the pain tortured him and made the howls turn into screams. He scrunched his fists, his eyes and his resolve and walked away from her and what he knew would also lead to pain, if he allowed himself to tread there again.

No! No… 

He flew away from her and ran back to the gate. Allowing the wormhole, the lightning, the pain, to envelop him and remind him. 

The pain, the disorientation, the sensation, as his body dissolved into particles of light, there was no other word for it other than 'unworldly'. He had felt weightless, but had also felt like the heaviest being alive, when he was suspended in a state between existence and non-existence, while travelling through the gate. 

He remembered how he had been blessed with a mesmerising visual spectacle that had unfolded before him. He had been gifted such amazing and astonishing and astounding sights. Gifted such beauty, that even his myopic eyes could behold. Brilliant arcs of energy had streaked past him, as he had travelled. Illuminating his journey with every colour and shape that he knew of and some that he did not. Making it seem as if he was hurtling through the inside of a kaleidoscope toy. One that dragged him one atom at a time, closer and closer towards his destination.

He recalled how lightning had travelled through him and around him. It had zapped him, heated him, cooled him, all at once. It had made him feel hot elation and cold fear. It had made him freeze and burn at the same time. It had made him gasp and wonder at what the bloodyhell was happening to him. It had made him wonder if he would survive that stormy, riptide, whirlwind that had hit him, when he had ridden through that kaleidoscopic tunnel.

Lightning. Like when I stood in front of her… Lightning. Like when I touched her… What the bloodyhell is happening to me here!

He gripped his pillow and ran away from the allure of her. Racing away and running back to allow the excitement, curiosity, trepidation, anticipation, apprehension of the gate to overwhelm him instead. 

All of the universe had ridden upon his shoulders, before his eyes, within him, as he travelled. Fear travelled with him too. Fear of the unknown, of the uncertainty of it all. He remembered fearing if he would reach his destination intact? Or if he would be reduced to a blob of goo that splatted out on the other side and had to be scraped up into a bucket?  

Fear of the unknown… Yet I know where she would lead me… Myško… No! I cannot go there again…

He clung to his pillow and fretted about the unknown certainty of his feelings and his emotions.

Her smile… 

Her touch…

Ridiculous! It was just one smile, one touch! I cannot… Not again…

He rolled back onto his back and opened his eyes. Glaring and frowning up at the ceiling. Chastising himself. Remembering his vow. Not to be fooled again. Not to be hurt again. He scrunched his eyes shut, refusing her smile. He fisted his hands, refusing her touch. He stomped back to the briefings he had attended, before that first Stargate trip. 

He remembered being told again and again and again that during the journey, it was important to stay calm and centered. That the disorienting rush of traveling through a Stargate could be overwhelming. That maintaining control of your thoughts and emotions would help you navigate the experience with ease. 

Myško… Her touch, her smile, they tickled and teased me and laughed at me too! Whispering the same warnings. 

He shook his head, tightened his fists and trod onwards. Recalling what the sergeant, who had lectured them, had told them all, that they needed to remind themselves that Stargate travel was not one hundred percent safe. That no-one would be completely safe from mishaps. Even though most who travelled using the Stargate technology would be transported safely through the wormhole. Then he had smiled at them all, even as they gasped and mumbled at his warnings. Then he had told them not to worry, that as long as they were good little scientists and civilians and did what the military told them to do, they would all be safe. 

Safe! I'm not safe from her and… No! Stop!

He ran back. Fleeing back to the recollections of his training. Huffing at the safety lecture. Thinking how it was all very well to nod along to that sergeant, all too easy to agree with what he said, when they were all sitting in a training room. 

Not so much so, when I'm actually being ripped apart, and smeared across a wormhole between two gates, millions of light years apart! Not so much when the Genii threaten to blow us up with their dodgy nuclear weapons! Not so much when a Wrath is threatening to suck me dry, like a bloody space vampire! Not so much when I'm doing a space walk! Me! A space walk! Ha! And I still have the scar from that tiny meteoroid that travelled through my leg, as a souvenir!

He knew that he had screamed as he travelled through the gate. His face reddened at that thought. At the recollection that he had ignored his training and had screamed and shouted, yelled and yelped, when he was pulled apart, then put back together again, while he had journeyed across space. A journey that lasted only mere seconds. But those seconds felt like hours, years and aeons. 

Just as had happened when she touched me, when I touched her…  But I had stayed silent. Calm… Which was strange… Why didn't I snatch my hand back from her and yell and scream then? Well, not yell and scream. That would be, well some would accuse me of doing such things when in more feminine company, but… Why did I just… accept what I did and what she offered me?

He frowned at that calm acceptance, when his fingers had joined with hers, when their smiles had linked, when he had stood there, linked to her, feeling that lighting for aeons and seconds.

Why…?

Once more, he shook himself free of her tendrils and remembered how something had clicked and changed as he had travelled through the Stargate. How the kaleidoscope collapsed and focused. He remembered wondering if that meant that he was nearing the end of his journey. If it meant that he was approaching the other side of the wormhole. He ran back to recollections of how the vortex had begun to dissipate, how the colors and shapes faded away. He had calmed then, as he knew that the light was the other side of the portal approaching him. He had quietened his breath, when he had seen the light coalescing and announcing the imminent arrival at his destination. He had bitten off his scream and waited to be spat out of the wormhole. And, with the flick of a switch, the light, the lightning, the kaleidoscope, his scream, had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Just like… when her touch, when she had gone…

He puffed out a breath and swore to himself. Cursing at how he should not fall into that nonsense again, how he could not afford to fall there with a stumbled step. Just as he had done, when he had emerged from the Stargate that first time and had stumbled into a new galaxy. Here. When he had emerged into a new city. Yet an old city. An ancient city. One that was his home now and would be for the un-foreseeable future. 

Hers too. But she's only here, like the rest of the new arrivals, for a year. I signed for a permanent place. She will be gone, just as she arrived, in the blink of an eye. I cannot afford to form ridiculous, nonsense attachments! I cannot allow distractions… I should have stayed up in the control room!

But, he remembered why he had strode down and away from the control room. Why he had sought her out. Why he had sallied forth and strode down to meet her. Why her, out of the hundred or so who had arrived? He remembered how he had stumbled as he had stepped out of the wormhole, that first time, when arriving here. How he would have fallen flat on his face, if his survival instinct had not kicked in and made him reach out and grab at the nearest thing. Which happened to be another person. He had grabbed at their arm, luckily.  And did not grab at anything that would have made him vomit with embarrassment and shame and run back through the portal to hide himself away in the deepest depths of Cheyenne Mountain.

She stumbled too… 

He recalled how had released his unbidden, black-clad saviour and had apologised and righted himself. He had remembered the words of the training video that he had sat and watched and listened to: "Once you've arrived at your destination, take a moment to adjust to your new surroundings. As the adrenaline of the journey subsides, you may find yourself in awe of the incredible sights and sounds around you. Embrace the wonder of exploration and allow yourself to fully experience the journey you've just completed."

So, he had done just that. He was the tourist who had just arrived in a foreign land. He was the new arrival who had gawped and gaped and gasped with wide eyes and an open mouth, as he stared around himself, pondering his new surroundings. 

I saw her doing just that too… 

No-one else in his team had stumbled like he had. No-one else in his team had probably screamed as he travelled either, he remembered thinking. 

Did she scream too? Just like I did?

He had seen her stumble, as she had come through the gate today, this morning and it reminded him of himself, of his fears, of his anxiety, of looking like a fool. That feeling, his own feeling of embarrassment, had sped his steps down to her.

She was also the only one in that large group who stumbled. Just like me. A connection? A nonsense! That's nothing to base anything on! Certainly not anything like… No!

He shook his head. Shaking the feelings away. He curled up on his side. Ignoring himself and her too. Or he tried to. He could not ignore what he had done though. He could not hide from how he had deliberately made that move and taken those steps down to meet her, to rescue her. He could not ignore how he had trodden down from the safety of the control room. He could not ignore how he could have stayed up there, watching, working. But he did not do that. He had made a decision to become her Knight in blue and grey and beige polycotton.

He had moved his comfort and confidence towards her, he had trod closer to the gate and her. He was a traveller with no code, no DHD, no symbols. He had answered her call, answered his own chivalrous call, he had answered the need to go down, to aid a fellow confused, embarrassed traveller. And a fellow stumbler. He had only thought of helping her, of picking her up, of picking her bag up. And then… 

A touch.

A smile.

He had stepped forward and stepped up to her and he was once more surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colours, wanting to scream, to shout, frozen, freezing, burning, heating. 

A touch.

And all because his fingers had brushed over hers and her fingers had brushed over his. A few seconds of contact and everything changed. 

That touch…

And then he had been gifted her thanks, as a smile.

Her smile…

He squeezed his eyes tighter, begging sleep to take him. 

Kurva! I need to sleep! Tomorrow will be another busy day and I need rest!

He evened his breathing, touching his fingers, where she had touched his, holding onto that warmth, where the lightning had struck. Lightning that now heated and calmed him. His breath slowed and his hands and eyes relaxed and unclenched. And he dreamed. With one word upon his sleep-relaxed lips.

Myško…

He dreamed of saying that word to her again. Of holding her hands in his. Holding her hands properly. Without a bag between them.

Myško… 

Saying that word in a particular way, while her lighting travelled all over his body, holding her hands, holding her bright innocence in his hands. 

Myško… 

He woke, panting and gasping. Dragging himself up to sit on the edge of his bed, while his shaking hands pushed sweaty strands of fluffy hair away from his face.

"Do prdele!" he snarled out himself before sighing and running a shaking hand over his face. Turning, he glanced at his watch. "Kurva!" His alarm should have gone off an hour ago. 

"Kurva! Kurva! Kurva!" A rushed shower, and a skipped shave. He grabbed a cereal bar and ran to the labs, hurrying, apologising, as he scurried along the corridors.

"Ah, it's good of you to join us, Doctor Zelenka!"

"Jdi do prdele!" Zelenka hissed under his breath, as Rodney McKay greeted him. Swearing some more in his native Czech, while he slid his late arse onto his chair. He chewed on his cereal bar, typing and swearing the same swear at himself, as crumbs dropped into his keyboard.

"What's the matter Zelenka? Did you oversleep? Find yourself some little piece of fluff from the newly arrived contingent, did you? Like Tiberius Sheppard did! Or so I heard!"

"Who?"

Myško? Please don't let it be her…

"Sheppard, I just said, did your ears oversleep too, Zelenka?"

"Who did he… who is the… little piece of fluff!"

"Ah, now then…"

Radek sighed as he knew that face, the face that Rodney wore, when he had sniffed out some juicy piece of gossip. A face that turned the chief scientist in Atlantis, into a stallholder from Havelské tržiště, who had a fresh basket of rumours to sell.

Please don't let it be her! Please… He sent a silent prayer up to Agnes of Prague.

"So… it seems that one of the new cleaning crew was cleaning in his quarters last night, so I heard, well, so Simpson heard, you know how Simpson's quarters are right next to where Kirk's are…"

"Who, Rodney!"

"The fluff? Oh, I don't know their name. Not my type though, from the description of her though, dark hair, dark eyes, tall…"

Another silent prayer was offered up to Agnes of Prague. A prayer of thanks, this time.

"Ah… So she didn't look like Samantha Carter then?"

"No… Not like Sam…"

Radek smirked and snickered, as he saw that soppy look parade across McKay's face. The same look that always sat there, when Colonel Carter was mentioned, or whenever she appeared in Doctor Rodney McKay's presence.

Chapter Text

Hearing cleared before sight did, as she yawned into her breakfast that new morning and stirred her lumpy porridge with bleary eyes.

She heard him first, before she saw him. Her ears pricked up, poking her, prodding her to alertness, when they sensed a voice. A deep voice. An accented voice. A voice that tickled her senses and pushed the remnants of sleep from her, that voice poked her and stroked her and reminded her. She cocked her head and listened. Understanding some of his words. Not understanding other words that sounded as if they were spoken in a different language, one that she did not know. But knowing enough, from their inflection and the venom that they were loaded with, that they were meant to sting.

The remnants of sleep dissipated, as she listened with eager ears, to stuccoed, shouted, angry, stinging bees that flew forth from a hive of white-hot anger. As those loud cursings grew louder, she gripped her spoon. Staring into her breakfast. The loudness warned her that he was approaching. 

Fear kept her head bowed. Curiosity was tethered and tied. But the leash was not quite taut enough. She broke free. She looked up. 

It's him. The man from the gate. Approaching me. Ohshitohshit.

Fear pulled her away, tightening its grip upon her. Her gaze snapped down to his feet, protecting her. Turning her meek. Insipid. But curiosity fought back, stretching, straining and making her eyes slide higher. She snuck glances of his legs, his tummy, his chest and dared to tread higher still. Her gaze perked out from beneath the safety of her lashes and glanced at his face. A stolen sight, a teased glance, as the mumblings stomped towards her. 

A smile ached upon her face, but was guarded by a lowered head and dropped, lashed eyes. He caught her. She caught him. She gulped, blinking, as he captured her for one heartbeat. A breath was sucked in, as blue eyes offered her everything, before fear tugged on her leash and reminded her and she snapped her head back down and away. Hunkering down. Gripping her spoon fit to bend it. Cowering. Hiding. 

She heard his footfalls, heard him conversing in what sounded like a very heated discussion, not shouting, but his and the other speaker's voices were both heated, raised, as they moved on and passed her by. Once their voices lessened, she allowed herself to breathe, puffing her held breath out. A shift of her eyes sideways showed her that he had indeed moved past her and had moved on and away. He had not stopped. Not wanting to notice her. Not wanting to see her. Except for that small glance. She only dared to raise her gaze up again, after she knew that she was safe and had passed her by. She gazed around her, looking forwards, not back, to where he was, as she sipped on her fruit juice. But her gaze, that selfish, daring side of herself that rarely stuck its head above the parapets, forced her to turn and trail after him, tickling the broad back of the short, fluffy, bespectacled man who was the object of her curiosity. She nibbled her bottom lip, deciding that he was certainly tall in personality, if not in actual height. She snapped her gaze back to front and centre, when someone coughed.

"Are these seats taken?"

She looked where the person pointed. The rest of the seats around her, at the table where she sat. "No…" She shook her head, emphasising the negative and went back to finishing her breakfast. Hurrying. Wanting away. 

He smiled as he walked past me… That's good… Isn't it? Yes… Yes! But then he didn't stop. He carried on. That's… not so good… It's just a silly infatuation. Nothing more… I've a job to do here!

She turned in her seat and noted that he had seated himself with a group of others, two tables away from her. Sitting with chiefs and heads, who flew higher than she could ever hope to go. She went back to finishing off her breakfast. Ignoring the group that sat around her. Her head was tilted, her attention was focused elsewhere. She listened to how his stabbed words, in what she assumed was his native language, were replaced by murmured mumblings. Muttered out with pauses, as he ate. Then his words changed into something else. His language shifted to accented English, as he argued with someone.

She scraped her bowl and finished her juice and listened. Hearing a deep, dark chocolate tone, smooth and delicious but with a hint of sharpness underneath. She froze, as his voice grew louder.

Is he nearing me again?

She turned. Twisting in her seat, as if she was about to leave. Watching him not walking towards her, but still seated at his table. Observing him with that same lowered, cautious gaze, as his face scrunched up and his hands accentuated his mood. 

Anger. He's angry about something… Me…?

As she watched, his English was interspersed with the sharp stabbings of that other language he spoke. She didn't know what those harsh words were, but she'd bet the last of the Haribo that she had brought with her, from earth, that those words were swear words.

Her gaze followed his hands, as they waved about and threw gestures at those who nodded and listened to him, seated next to and opposite him there. She tilted her head, while observing him from her lonely table that was busy and noisy and full now. Concentrating on how his busy hands buzzed and flew around his companions. Her eyes flicked up, to watch his face, to take in his expressions. Not just anger, but frustration rumpled his brows and narrowed his eyes. His prominent Adam's Apple bobbed, as he argued there.

"Are you finished?"

Her thoughts and gaze were pulled back to the table that she sat at.

"Um… sorry… what…?"

"Are you finished!" 

Another woman was standing next to the first one who had moved to stand over her.

"If you've finished, you need to move away, so others can have your seat. Don't you think?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. I was…" Her words trailed off, as she noticed that the two women had turned to speak to each other and were ignoring her. Her gaze was kept down and away, as befitted her lowly station and rank there, while she hurried to tidy away her half-eaten breakfast away onto her tray. A swear, and laughter, condemnations of her stupidity, followed her, as she picked her tray up and scurried away from her table. Shoving the tray into the rack, before scurrying out of the mess hall with a bright red face and blurred vision.

-

The area seemed to be clean already. 

As if someone had already done my job for me… So why did someone raise a work ticket?

She checked her data pad, double checking that the ticket hadn't been taken or completed, since her supervisor had dished them out this morning and that no-one else had added any notes to it, since she had scurried away from her grinning supervisor.

No. It's still assigned to me, with no change. Hmmm… Maybe I shouldn't have rushed off so quickly, but he's a bit… She shivered, as she remembered his cold touch, as he stood too close and leaned in too near to her that morning.

She checked the location on her datapad, frowning down at the ticket that told her that she was, in fact, at the correct place. She sighed and scrolled along the list of all of the other work tickets that had been opened that morning. Checking for any duplicates, while standing in that quiet corridor, located in the middle of nowhere, far out in one of the fans or spread-out octopus legs of the lost but now found city, a trek away from the tall central spire. A half hour trudge away from the nearest transporter. Quiet and lonely. The sound of the sea whispered to her from somewhere along the long corridor and the bubbling of the water through the transparent tube along the sides of the corridor, where she frowned at her datapad, were the only sounds that kept her company.

She crinkled her nose and threw a frowned curse at whoever had been here before her and done such a spaldash job.

They've not done a very good job, whoever they were! So no wonder I've been sent out here. I guess I'd best clean up their cleaning up!

The odour that her sensitive nose picked up and caused her to crinkle said nose in recognition of a mix of iron and bleach. Noxious odours that lingered in this forgotten corridor and told her everything she needed to know.

Slapdash! Too high a concentration of bleach! No finesse!

The dark bronzes, greens and rust colours of the walls in the corridor and the amber lighting, didn't make spotting where needed cleaning easy, so she took out her UV light to check. It showed bodily fluids were splatted in a certain pattern, all the way up and along the walls of the corridor. Even covering some of the beautiful glass tubes that she could watch for hours, as they bubbled up along the walls. Some of the foliage that dropped down from the ceiling was splattered too. Foliage that belonged to the pervasive plants that grew all over the city, keeping her company, as she trundled her cleaning cart through the quiet corridors of the large city. 

A noise from behind her, had her spinning and turning. "Hello…? Is anyone there…?"

Silence answered her. As did a flickering of the lights and a brightening of them around where she stood.

"O… kay…"

She frowned and pointed her UV light at the floor. 

Ha! Just as I thought!

There was a clean patch in the middle of the floor, but blood had been splattered and pooled all around it. 

Whoever cleaned the centre, hasn't bothered with the full splatter pattern… Amateurs! But… This is so strange… It's like a crime scene here. I recognise this pattern… It's familiar, I've seen it before… The kind of wound that would result in this particular pattern of blood loss, it's not one that someone would recover from. So someone died here, but who? 

She ran through that morning's announcements in her team debrief. There had been no announcements, other than some stating who had gone back to earth, who had dropped out after only a few days here. She remembered frowning at how her supervisor had laughed at that, calling them lightweights. But there had been no announcements other than those. Nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly no crimes, no deaths, as had clearly occurred here. 

There's not been any crime I've been warned or told of… Unless it's something they're keeping under wraps… But then why send me down here, if that's the case? Do I tell someone about this? And who do I tell? I just clean. I'm just a cleaner here. I'm not anyone important here. If I was back… If I had found something like this back then… If I found anything out of the ordinary in my old job, then I'd know to alert the CSI team who had sent me there. But who do I alert here, when I notice something like this? Protocols. I know about them. I've been trained to follow them. I suppose I just… 

She took her datapad out and balancing that and the UV light as best as she could, she took a photo of the splatter pattern and sent off her report to her supervisor. Job done, she found the next ticket and went about pushing her trolley back towards the transporter and off to her next assigned job.

Chapter Text

His tray was gripped tight, keeping his hands occupied. The food upon it and not wanting to waste it, not after having to live through shortages because of harsh winters and invaders when in his youth, were the only things that prevented him from thwacking Rodney McKay around the head with said tray. Zelenka frowned down at his cooling toast and cursed himself and this nonsense situation. Cursing his luck for making this bristly man with a superiority complex, his superior.

This morning's argument was about whether reprogramming the air conditioning system of the city was really necessary or not. Or if it was just the bored tinkering of the head of the science section.

"Why mess with it, when we know it works, why waste resources?" Zelenka ground out what he thought was a most reasonable argument.

"Just a small adjustment could benefit everyone, Zelenka. Can't you see?"

"Yes, I do see, but if the Ancients set things that way, why change it?"

"Because I think that maybe they were wrong and I'm right!"

"You think…" he paused his English to cut the air with a string of quick, sharp curses in his native tongue. "Do you not remember what happened that last time? When you adjusted the fresh water recyclers and the sewage system could not keep up with the extra usage! Do you remember the smell! It lasted weeks! And the clean up afterwards!" Another pause to throw out a handful of caltrops in the form of jagged Czech swearings. 

"It was a small over-adjustment. Easily fixed," McKay waved a hand, nonchalantly dismissing any mistakes, which obviously weren't mistakes, well not on his part, anyway. "It's not my fault that you didn't follow my exact directions!"

"Directions!" shining Czech knives were spun at the arrogant Canadian. "Directions that were fixed by me! Because you were too busy hiding in your quarters because you were scared of catching something!"

"I was not hiding! I was… gathering information!"

"Ha!" Zelenka shook his head, mumbling out some particularly serrated curses, while he walked through the busy morning mess hall with Doctor McKay, heading towards their usual table, where Sheppard, Ronan and Tayla were already seated.

It's pointless arguing. I'm wasting my breath here, I should know better. When I'm finished eating, I need to go and check the layout of the electrics for the air conditioning and pre-empt any mistakes Rodney will make! I need to know that system inside out, so I can fix anything in double-quick time. 

Zelenka shook his head, wafting his fluffy overlong hair around him, as he walked and swore. Reverting to clipped yeses and nos, in-between his ripe, mumbled mutterings. He gazed around him, as he walked, taking in all of the new faces that sat in the large mess hall of Atlantis. Listening to the low hum of chatter in the busy space. 

A blink, as he caught the gaze of someone when he passed, two tables from where his seat was waiting for him. 

Oh! It's her! Myško!

One blink, the briefest of caught gazes, a smile for him. But with a quick flick of her tail, the little mouse escaped his trap and her smile scurried away. He stared, as she snatched herself and her smile away from him and stared back down at her breakfast. A glance back at her, as he passed by, caused him to frown at how she was hunched down. Hunkering down. Hiding from him.

Why hide, Myško! I will not harm you…

Once seated at their table, Zelenka gave McKay another reason to frown, when he took a seat next to Tayla. Greeting her with a polite hello, doing similar to Ronon, who sat opposite, next to Sheppard. Forcing McKay to find and fetch another chair. Zelenka smiled to himself, ignoring McKay's huffs. All watched, as the chief scientist dragged a complaining chair over to their table. The chair's legs dragged along the Ancient equivalent of linoleum, causing it to scream and screech in complaint. A red faced McKay made himself comfortable, while Zelenka smirked and started shovelling his cooling food into his mouth. 

No-one had long to eat in peace, before McKay decided to re-state his point. 

"And another thing, Zelenka, how can we know that the air-conditioning conundrum isn't just an Ancient test!"

"The air-conditioning conundrum? What do you mean, McKay?" Sheppard frowned.

"Please, don't encourage him," Zelenka hissed.

"Ah! I'm glad you asked! So, I've decided that we need to optimise the air-conditioning here, in the city, but Zeleka here, he disagrees."

Zelenka sighed. Pausing his eating to disagree with the disagreeable science lead. "I do not disagree! I merely stated that why should we tinker with something that is already working to optimum efficiency."

"Ah, but how do you know it is!"

"We can all breathe!"

"Yes, but, you say it's operating at optimum efficiency, but is it? What if I change a few settings here and there and optimise it so it's… optimum-er?"

"Why mess with something that's not broken," Ronon added, in a muffled voice, while eating his fifth bacon roll.

"Ah but now, see, that's the conundrum, maybe if I do mess with it, it'll make it function better! What if it's all a test to see if we're all, I don't know, worthy of the city!"

"Do we get a prize if we pass?" Sheppard asked.

"We get to widen the doors for Rodney's big head to fit through," Zelenka mumbled.

"I heard that! You're just jealous because I thought of this, Zelenka."

"Same as how you thought of optimising the water filtration system, Rodney?" Zelenka raised his voice to disagree and disapprove. Waving his hands. Adding some choice Czech swears into the argument. 

"Yea, Rodney, I remember that! I remember the smell!" Sheppard added.

"Well, it won't be like that this time!"

"Can you guarantee it?" Sheppard asked.

"He cannot!" Zelenka added.

"I can, Zelenka!"

"Have you looked at the whole circuitry, not just the air vents?" Zelenka spat back.

"What, no, why would I do that?" McKay countered.

"Because when you didn't last time, with the water, you forgot how the water and sewage systems were interlinked!" Zelenka shouted.

"Minor issues! Small problems! Easily fixed!" McKay waved his hands, dismissing the arguments with a smile.

"For you, maybe, Rodney!" Zelenka huffed.

"Hey! I remember that! All the sh— detritus… we had to shovel back again!" Ronon added.

"Maybe it would be for the best if you looked at this from a holistic point of view, Doctor McKay," Teyla added, trying to simmer the tempers down, as she always did.

"Yea, Rodney, I think you had best do that. I mean, I don't want to have to resort to…" Sheppard paused to pat the top, left-hand pocket of his black jacket.

"I don't think that those sorts of threats are needed!" McKay answered, with widened eyes. "You know how I come out in a rash with lemons!"

"I sure do!" Sheppard grinned.

Zelenka smirked, as Sheppard took the lemon out of his pocket and waved it at Rodney McKay. 

"Now, Rodney, I don't want to resort to this, but I will, if you even so much as think about bringing another sea of sewage to Atlantis!" Sheppard smiled.

"Okay! Okay! I'll go over things with Zelenka here! I won't touch anything until then!"

Zelenka chuckled at McKay's backtrack. But he didn't believe him. He ate his cold breakfast while electrical diagrams spun in his head and arguments flew around their breakfast table. A plan was forming for the day. He paused his eating to nod an agreement at Ronan's appreciation for this morning's fare in the mess hall. They had a new, fresh delivery from Earth to thank for that. Zelenka took the opportunity, given by that distraction away from work, to glance over at that seat two tables away. It was empty. She was gone. 

I'm an idiot. Fool. I should have stopped and said something to her! Tomorrow I will. Maybe…? If she is there… and I'm not up to my glasses and beyond crawling through smelly conduits. Again.

-

"Their throat was cut and they were just left there… dumped. Why? They've not been...?" Zelenka looked up from the body to glance at the doctor, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a firm forefinger.

"No… There was no form of assault. Her clothing … She's just been…"

"Killed. Yes." Zelenka peered at the pale face of the young doctor. 

"But… Why…?" 

"Are you alright, Doctor Keller?"

"Not really…"

"I'll call Colonel Sheppard. He's in charge of the nearest team we have to a police force here… I should really have called them first, but I thought…" he swore to himself, chastising himself for not thinking and acting on impulse, calling in a medical, when it was a mortuary and investigatory team that were needed.

"Yes… Please…"

"Good. Let me…" Zelenka tapped his comm device and sent a call out for the Colonel. Receiving a query to repeat what he'd found, which he did, which was replied with a few choice swear words, then a brisk reply to wait there, telling Zelenka that he was on his way, via Woolsey and that he and Keller should hang tight and wait. 

Zelenka ended the call and looked back over at the young medical doctor. Noticing how she was hugging herself and shaking. He took a foil blanket out of her emergency bag and placed it over the deceased woman's face.

"Are you alright, Doctor Keller?"

"As good as I can be… It's all a bit…"

"Scary… Yes… Let me…" He checked his datapad. "Look. There's no other lifeforms around here, other than us two. You are safe. Okay?"

"Thank you. What do you think happened…? Was she really… killed… murdered…?"

"I mean, she won't have slit her own throat, so… it looks like it… yes…"

"Oh god… I think I'd prefer it if it was the Wraith! It wasn't them, was it?"

"No… there would be less… blood… because… I think that we should take photos and notes of everything here, don't you think? And maybe you should take some swabs and samples, and some notes too, yes? Before too many people arrive?" he suggested. Offering them both something to keep them occupied while they waited.

They worked in silence. Only looking up from their grim work when footsteps announced imminent arrivals.

"Hello there, Doctor Keller, Doctor Zelenka?"

"Over here, Colonel Sheppard." Zelenka stood and nodded at the senior military man in Atlantis who stopped and stood next to them. 

"Ah… is this…?" Sheppard pointed at the body.

"Yes," Zelenka answered.

"Any clue who she is, Zelenka?"

"Yes. Her I.D. was still on her. One of the new arrivals."

"And it's really what you said…? That it looks like…?"

"It is a deliberate act. Yes. As far as I can tell. Doctor Keller here agrees," Zelenka answered, stepping up because Doctor Keller had stepped away. 

Doctor Keller nodded her head in agreement.

"Okay! Orders! You'll be in charge of the scientific side of this investigation, Zelenka. Carson will take over with the medical what-nots, once he gets back from off-world, so you can step down, Doctor Keller. I'm in overall charge. Woolsey's orders."

"Me?" Zelenka asked. "Not Rodney?"

"No… McKay is too… delicate… for this sort of ah… biological… thing and I need someone with a more… steady personality, to give me their second opinion, before I take it back to Woolsey. Rodney's not up to this. I want him kept at a distance. Try your best, Zelenka and work with Carson to find out what the hell is going on here. That's all I can ask."

"Yes. I will. Shall I organise a team to get her body taken away, or…?"

"I'll organise that," Sheppard answered. "Then I'll get this corridor cleaned up…"

"At least we have the new civilians here to do that and—" Zelenka asked.

"No. Orders are that we need to keep this to ourselves," Sheppard answered.

"From Woolsey?"

"Yep. He'll probably notify the IOA. Then we'll get fresh orders back, no doubt. But until then, I've been given the go to deal with this myself. We're to keep this on the lowdown. This goes no further than us here, understand?" Sheppard turned to face the white-faced medical doctor. "Doctor Keller?"

She nodded and set about packing up.

"We don't want this getting out and panicking people." Sheppard continued, then turned back, frowning down at the body. "Doctor Zelenka, do you agree?"

"Yes." Zelenka nodded. "I suppose that it is a good thing I was down here, or she would have been left… Does Atlantis have rats?" He chastised himself for speaking aloud his rambling thoughts, as the Doctor grew even paler.

"What were you doing down here anyway, Doctor Zelenka? This area is virtually un-inhabited and un-visited."

"Following the air conditioning and recycling conduit, up there," he pointed up at the grill above their heads. "And the electrical circuitry that accompanies it. For Rodney's new plan for alterations."

"Ah. I hope to god that it won't be like the—"

"No! It will not be like that! Not if I can help it! And yes, I was the one who found her here. And also, there were no witnesses to me doing that. So until we find anything to suggest otherwise, I would be the chief suspect. From a scientific standpoint."

"You're handing yourself in?"

"I've nothing to hide. My fingerprint analysis and a postmortem will prove me innocent. She's been here a good few hours… so Doctor Keller told me."

"Do you need to do anything more, with the body here?"

"No. We did as much as we could, while waiting for you to arrive. I'm not a forensics specialist, but I took as many photos as I could think of and Doctor Keller took as many swabs as I could think of needed taking."

"Good. You're done. You can take Doctor Keller back, Zelenka. I'll send some of my men as escorts, just in case, while I clear up here and get her taken back…"

Zelenka nodded.

Chapter Text

He pulled at her and she did not know why. Well, she did, she had a type. Always had. But she shouldn't be doing this. It always led either to nowhere, or to trouble. Plus there was the fact that in her training for this position, she had been told time and time again that any interactions with higher ups were always frowned upon. So this little intrigue would be doubly pointless to pursue. 

Why did he stop to help me? Why? 

That small interaction. That nothing, nonsense speck of politeness from him, after the stumbled trauma of her first gate travel, it niggled and nagged her and made her forget her past traumas and her training and everything , except for him and that interaction. It egged her on. It distracted and confused her. It seeped into her daydreams and night dreams.  

Him… 

The first one who had spoken a kind word to her. The idea of him, the promise of him and his touch and his smile, those ideas all walked around the new, vastness of the alien city with her, as she went about her duties every day. 

Him… 

The first one who had smiled at her with softness in his eyes. His heated touch and bright smile and the fading echo of the few words that he had spoken to her, kept her company, as she trod the lonely corridors of her work day after day during the first fortnight after her arrival.

Him…

Others had smiled at her, since that first day that she had stumbled through the gate. But their smiles were always so predatory, so dark-eyed and sharp-toothed. They lacked the crow-foot crinkles at the corners of their eyes. Lines that told her that his smile had been real and true and free, with no expectations layered beneath it. The other's smiles did not reach their eyes, and their shining teeth gave away their need to take something from her, instead of just giving her the joy of them seeing her. And she knew exactly what it was that those others wanted. 

Him…

His smile was the only one that was offered without any conditions or implications. Wanting nothing from her. Gifting her something instead: her escaped belongings and the brightest of welcomes. 

He called me 'Myško', but I still don't know what that means…

She had been called many other things since her arrival here, as part of the group that were hired to take over the boring details that the military didn't want. Taking on the tedious tasks that they no longer wanted to do. Recruited as one of a contingent of civilians who would be doing all of the dull-deemed roles, so that their military superiors would be freed up to concentrate on what they were there to really do. Allowing them to concentrate on their mission to aid and protect the people of Atlantis and any other humans or aliens who needed Earth's help. 

Him…

And it seemed, to her, that one of the missions that her military superiors had chosen, was to push and press at her. Asking, with a smirk, everything from her. Literally everything. All while she tried her damnedest to just get on with her job, to the best of her abilities and just mind her own business while doing so. 

Him…

She had seen him up on high, in the control room, as she passed through there. Hurrying and scurrying past, on her way to her assigned duty. She looked up, but he never noticed her again. So she blinked the wetness from her eyes and hurried onwards. Not wanting him to see her like that. 

Him…

The frowning angel on her shoulder told her to stop with this nonsense infatuation. To not jeopardise her career in any way, like she had last time. The devil on her shoulder pointed out his elegance of movement, the way his hands expressed his emotions so beautifully, his smile. The devil smirked in a particularly wide fashion, when it pointed out the beauty and humility of his smile. The devil asked her what harm there could be in her trying and learn more and more and more out about him. And so the angel was squashed and silenced. The small, fluffy bespectacled devil grabbed her and whispered all sorts of temptations into her ear. It told her to sit two tables away, to keep to her spot in the mess hall, to wait, to watch and to be patient. Whenever she spotted even the smallest glimpse of him, the smirking devil on her shoulder whispered to her about how well she had done. The angel tutted at her reminding her of her duties, her work, not to neglect them. But the smiling devil made promises to her that caused her to want to loiter and to stay and to sniff out anything that she could about that intriguing man, who crept around her dreams, day and night, who smiled at her in her mind, if not in actuality.  So, she continued watching him from afar, whenever she could, whenever she was allowed the opportunity to do so, when he was in the mess hall when she was. 

She attempted to learn when he took his lunch breaks and breakfasts and dinners and worked to time hers accordingly. That didn't work though, as he seemed to flit in and out, to some schedule that she did not know about. Often only arriving, as the mess hall was busy tidying up and preparing for the next shift. She never crept closer than two tables away from him, not daring to tread nearer.

Even when he wasn't there, her avid eyes and ears garnered snippets and leavings from others' conversations. Sweeping up, with keen hands, about how he was part of the multiple incidents that had occurred in and around and over the city. How he was an important scientist here too. Too far up the ranks to notice a lesser being like her. 

It's pointless, me staying and hoping. I'm a nobody, a nothing, in comparison. He won't be interested in me…

Those thoughts had her scooping her tray up and hurrying away. Yet he always had her creeping back to sit two tables away. Enacting an exercise in restraint and how to stay unobserved. Seeing and remaining unseen. Observing and not daring to interrupt. Noting how laughter exploded from a wide smile that lit up the space he occupied, as she watched him from her spot, two tables away, in the mess hall. Watching how something replaced his smile with an anger that made her blink and look away. An anger that was fired out with loud, harsh sounding bullets that she didn't understand. But she knew, from his face and his waving, vocalising hands, that they were swear words, or unpleasant descriptions, at the very least. Sweared rantings in his mother tongue. A language she now knew the name of. From the flag that was the badge on the upper sleeve of his jacket.

She pondered what, or who had riled the anger from him, as she watched, wide-eyed at his glared and shouted disapproval. His anger seemed to be mostly piqued by his interaction with one certain man. A man who caused frowns, a down-turned mouth, waving arms and hands and an outpouring of anger. Speaking with his actions, as well as his words there.

Him…

She overheard his last name most often, prefixed by a 'Doctor'. She knew that he wasn't a medical one though, because he had blue flashes on his uniform jacket, not yellow, like the medics did. Blue meant that he was a scientist. She pondered upon what type though. 

A chemistry one? A physics one? Like I wanted to be, like my father was, before… 

She shook her head and fled away from her history and went back to loitering around her present. 

He could be a mad scientist, with his wild hair! Like Doc Brown. 

She giggled at that thought. Unaware of the raised-eyebrowed looks that she gathered up, as she sat and pondered at her crowded table in the mess hall. It was a lonely one when she had sat there, but the hall soon became crowded and she was joined, at her quiet table, by noisy and nosey strangers. 

They notice me, but it seems like he never will anymore… 

Again, that thought had her scooping up her leftovers and tidying her tray onto the rack in the corner. Scuttling away and out before her tears overwhelmed her and before he saw her, even though she wished he would.

It was while she was in the canteen, that she heard his forename for the first time. Hearing him bickering and bantering with another scientist, where he sat two tables away, ignoring her, while she watched him through lowered lashes. Now she knew his name, the pronunciation, but not the spelling. A quick loiter online, while nibbling at her lunch, showed her that his name ended with a 'k' and not a 'c' and meant "joy, peace, and strength or joyful peace, happy peace, willingness". Her datapad pinged, flashing a warning for her attention. Another job. An urgent one.

She scurried away from the hall, swiping at her pad, as she did so. Blushing and cursing herself at her inability to clear her browsing history. Blurring it, by doing random searches for other random names on the staff database, to try and hide her error there, while she pushed her trolley to the required destination. 

The devil gave her a mission, a task to complete, when she returned to her vigil, two tables away for lunch the same day.

Sound and sight are easy to collect from afar, she mused, from her table in the mess hall, as she sat with her back to him and ignored her lunch. Pushing peas around her plate, her head tilted to one side, trying to catch something, anything of him. Trying to do as her devil told her: to catalogue him from her distant viewpoint. 

Touch. I have that. That is there from that one, brief moment, when I arrived. 

That memory was growing distant, as the days passed by and time walked away from her. Yet, that moment was still razor sharp and bright as the sun for her. Her fingers ran over where his had touched her, recreating a poor imitation of his touch, the breezed brushing of smooth, soft, warm fingers across hers. 

The other two senses… I'll have to leave them be… 

She sighed at ever acquiring those, to complete her collection. 

Smell. Well that would be the easier of the two I suppose… I had a chance, in the gate hall, but I muffed it! 

She kicked herself for not breathing deeper, as he had handed her bag back. Frowning at herself for missing that opportunity. She mused, as she pushed her peas into her mashed potatoes, making a smiley face there, at what his wild mane would smell of. 

Will he smell of the regulation lemoney-fresh shampoo that everyone uses? Or will he smell of conduits and computers, laboratories and experiments instead? Will he smell of nothing and just blend into the background scent of the city, which is fresher than an earth city, because there's no fossil fuel pollution here. Will he smell of something else, something that is unique to him, whatever that is? Some kind of aftershave? Cologne? I'll probably never know… Its pointless speculating!

She grimaced to herself at the thought of being caught sniffing at his long, wild locks and squashed the peas flat, mixing the mess and her frustration up on her plate.

Taste… 

That was something that she tried to only think of when she was alone in her bed at night. Because thinking of that, it made her mewl and squirm and wish for things that she knew she shouldn't, but desired so much. She stood, ignoring the devil, listening to the angel, striding away and out and back to her work.

-

"You're late! Again!"

"Sorry, Sir, I was just—"

"You have an hour allocated for lunch, same as the others, so why can't you return on time, like they do!"

"Sorry, I—"

"That's every day, for the past week that you've been late back! It won't do! I've had to change all of the rotas for this week because of you!"

"Sorry…"

"You will be! You'll be getting all the jobs no-one else wants from now on!"

She nodded and scurried off, collecting her trolley before heading out and away to where the pinged job told her to go.

-

The current clean-up duty that she had been sent to, it was strange. Well, no, not strange. It was familiar. Too familiar. 

The body had been removed, but she could see, from the evidence that remained, after another hasty clean-up job, where it had lain. She could see what had happened. Leftover sprays of blood. Threads of clothing. Tiny, discarded pieces of evidence. Left, or ignored because they were too small to see, as if someone didn't know what they were looking for, as she did. Someone had obviously tried to clean things up again, but failed.

What is going on here? Another body… 

She paused to peer behind her and in front of her. Seeing nothing but the empty corridor. Hearing nothing but the hum of the lighting and the blub, blub, blub bubbling of the water through the transparent pipes.

Her key-ring UV light was taken out of her pocket. One of the few things that she had brought with her from Earth. It told her what had happened there. A fight this time. A struggle for life. Not a simple slash before a quiet death. Wraith blood had such a distinctive scent. She had learned that in her training, back on earth and there was no wraith blood here. Just a mess of human blood and other bodily fluids too most like. 

Older training tickled her and nagged her. Training from her days before Atlantis. That old job told her that she knew what to do here. That this was no simple cleaning job. That this was human nature at its rawest and at its worst. But she ignored that old life, reminding herself that her job here was just to clean, not to document or report. This job was not that job. So her curiosity here was ignored and kicked away and once everything was cleaned and the tools of her trade were collected and tidied back into her trolley, her report was collated to be sent off to her supervisor. Just as she was trained to do. 

Her finger hovered over the send button. The temptation to add Representative Richard Woolsey to the report, to add her own knowledge to the report, whispered to her. But she shook her head. That was her old job, her old life speaking. Her new one, here, reminded her to just hit send and move onto the next job. Her supervisor didn't like being questioned, she had learned that much already. What was protocol in her old job, that the senior staff should be notified of something such as this, was moot in her current job. So everything was done exactly as per how she was taught back on Earth, in the complex beneath the mountain. She did as she was ordered and ignored all of the evidence that cried out to her to see it, to speak up for the dead. She pressed send and her job was completed. 

A noise. A rustling. A sound. Not a voice. It had her freezing and peering down the long, dark corridor once more.

"Hello…?"

The amber lights flickered and brightened. The plants that dangled from higher up, they shifted and rustled around where she stood. She tightened her grip on her datapad and tried to see into the gloom. 

"Hello…? Is anyone there…?"

Again there was that noise. A dropping of something. Tapping of nails, of feet, or fear. The lights flickered next to her and behind her. They dimmed where she stood, but brightened along the corridor, behind where she stood with wide-eyes peering into the gloom in front of her. The lights showed her what needed doing. So she did not wait to ask and hurried to do as they bid. Her datapad was thrown into her trolley and she hurried into the brightness. The light guided her away from that scene of death and towards the nearest transporter. Lighting up her escape. Moving her away from the sounds of something or someone that followed her and scared her.

She took the long route back. Hopping out of the transporter at a different place, deciding to walk back to the office. Wanting to cleanse herself of that awful scene and what she knew had happened there, by catching glimpses of an ocean that she did not know the name of and a sky that was the colour of a pair of smiling eyes.

Debating with herself, while she wandered, over what his kisses would taste of. Instigated by her breakfast observations on that same day, where she had seen him pout and remain silent, while three of his companions, seated at the table with him, had recounted some story about children on another planet. His arms had folded and added to the picture of silent disgruntlement that he had portrayed there. It was a rare opportunity for her to study his silence. But that study led elsewhere, as her gaze lingered upon his lips longer than it should have. 

Her wanderings and wonderings caused her to arrive late back to her department's office. Her frowning supervisor was waiting for her. 

"A word! In my office! Now!"

She followed after her thunder-faced supervisor. Halting to stand in front of the desk that he sat behind. 

"You missed the afternoon roll-call and task allocations!"

"Sorry… The last job, I—"

"I had your report back from that an hour ago! You should have been back here, not long after!"

"Sorry…"

"What is it? A dalliance? Are you one of those! I've already had to send two of your fellows back, for cavorting with the military!"

"No… I've not… I'm not…"

"Because of your dawdling, we are down on our completed tasks! Your slackness and open legs are causing me to look bad!"

"But, I'm not—"

"A warning will be placed against your employee record. And you will be placed on the most tedious duties that everyone hates, for the rest of the week! Go! You've still got three more jobs to finish, before you're done for the day!"

-

She cursed her eternal misfortune. Cursing him too. Cursing him for the distraction that he was, while she carried out her punishment duty. Her over-vigorous, grit-toothed wipings gentled and her face softened, as her thoughts drifted off once more. She sighed and floated away on thoughts of him and his smile. Daydreaming and coming to the conclusion that her punishment was worth it. Clearing and cleaning the walls in the lesser trodden corridors of the city, of the remains of some kind of rotten plant tendrils and fibers, was worth it, for giving her the space to be alone and to ponder.

Him…

She finished up there and trod off to her last duty of the day. Cleaning a spillage of food, just outside the mess hall. An easy task, soon done. 

Her half-hearted wiping motions were halted, her duty forgotten, as she heard someone say his name. Turning her head, she watched the three speakers approach, not him. Frowning at their laughter, chemicals dripped from her cloth, as her anger squeezed it, while those unknown chatterers stepped closer and she clearly heard words that derided him and sounds that sniggered about him. 

She caught what they said, as they halted alongside her, ignoring her, as if she was part of the fixtures and fittings and beneath them. She overheard their words and how they disparaged him for not knowing English, as well as they did. For not knowing the social signals or graces, as well as they did. Not speaking about any particular incident, she recognised just general bitching. Whining about things, that she knew well enough, that others did about her. A growl grew inside her. Starting deep and low, rising up her throat. Leashed, as they moved and carried on walking past her. Allowing her to hear what they called him, for just being him. She marked their cards and learned their faces. Ones to be watched out for. 

With one final wipe, her day was finished. Her report was sent in and her trolley pushed back. She clocked out. Noting how that same supervisor looked at her, watching her from his glass-walled office. His regard made her skin crawl and creep. She sped through the final tasks, placing her trolley back and replacing used containers so that it was ready for tomorrow, then washing her hands of all of the chemicals and dirt, before she scooted off and away. Her rumbling stomach sped her feet back to the mess hall.

-

A quick look around the busy mess hall, told her that he wasn't there. She sagged and sulked as she slid into a seat at her usual table. Being joined there by others. Others that she did not know. She listened to the group of chattering women who were seated on the same table as her. Easily overhearing exactly what they cackled about. 

What would I have given to have him compliment my hair for its scent. Or to be trapped in a transporter with him! Silly! Not knowing what was there, right in front of them… It was what she wished she had, right in front of her. 

She did not know who they were. But, she had seen their faces around the city in the short time that she had resided there. One woman was one of those who worked in the infirmary of Atlantis. The others' names she found out from listening to them speak. 

She stabbed at her food and scraped the plastic tray, gouging it with her metal fork, as she listened in on their conversation and thought of petty revenge. 

Maybe their quarters could have rough, un-ironed sheets or pillowcases in them? Or perhaps the niceties that they ask for in the tickets, for their quarters, will be unavailable? Maybe there will be a chemical spill outside the door to their quarters? Something nasty, something smelly? How unfortunate that would be! 

But, room cleaning for where the medics were quartered wasn't on her roster this week. 

Probably just as well. 

She just had to put up with the rounds in quarters where the military was housed. Having to put up with treading where the military gawked and leered at her. She knew what they wanted. She had heard, from the other women on her shift, what went on there and had thought about asking for a change of rota. But then shook her head, as the army men might all throw words at her, but they were disciplined enough not to touch or to shift their banter into something more than the casual harassment that it lay within the realms of, at the moment. Things which she should have reported, but the hassle of doing that wasn't worth it. 

Her shift definitely didn't include the scientist's quarters. She had no idea where his quarters lay, or where he lay.

It's probably just as well that I don't know, she pondered. He'd not be interested in a lowly mouse like me anyway… 

-

"What were you thinking of Kat?"

"Please, my name is Katerina…" she mumbled. Only my friends call me Kat and these are certainly not that. "And what do you mean… thinking of what…?"

"Sitting so close to where they sit?"

"They…?"

"You know! The 'High-ups'! And…"

She blinked and leaned back, as the taller woman leaned into her, showing her sharp teeth.

"…you know how I've had my eyes on Colonel Sheppard for ages now!"

"I was just sitting at a free table. They just happened to sit where they sat, after I sat here. And the Colonel, he's all yours. I'm not interested in—"

"You'd better not be! Although I did notice that it wasn't him that was looking at you. But that funny little scientist of theirs."

She clenched her jaw at that. Gritting her teeth.

"He's a bit strange! The way he speaks!"

"He's an accent because—"

"Oh not that, the way he's no filter! He told me that my hair smelled nice once!" Sharp laughter followed that sentence. Laughter that the other two joined in with.

"Oh my god did he sniff at you too?"

"No! Luckily!"

"He told me that my trolley was nicely arranged."

"And how my uniform was so neat."

"Strange little man!"

"I've seen him sneaking looks at my breasts!"

She watched and listened as a chorus of laughter followed.

"He said something about my hands, when I was cleaning in his lab."

"You clean his laboratory?" she asked. 

"Why yes, we clean all of the labs, Kat, don't you? And the sports rooms and mess hall, up here. Don't you get those assignments? Oh, wait, sorry, I forgot! You're still on punishment duties for messing everyone else up because you were late…"

"Yes…"

"Oh well," the taller woman shrugged. "But, anyway… Tell her what he said to you, Tiffany!"

"Yeah. So… I was tidying his lab… It's always so full, and I mean literally full, of empty coffee cups and cereal and energy bar wrappers! And it's never empty, they're always in there, like what are they doing in there? But anyway, I was busy clearing the millionth wrapper away and he came up to me, holding out the one he'd just finished and asked if I minded!"

"Minded!" the leader of their group laughed.

"He said how he didn't want to bother me, which I suppose is polite, which is okay, but then he hovered around and said how he noticed how slender my hands were and… something about how they'd be perfect for some weird scientific study or other, I mean, I'd stopped listening at that point, because it was just too weird!"

"Yea, weird, right?"

More laughter.

"I mean, what do you say to that? What would you say to that, Kat?"

"No, Tiff, it's Katerina, remember?"

More laughter.

"Oh. Yeah. So what would you have said, Kat?"

"I would have thanked him for saving me the trouble of picking up the wrapper myself. And for noticing my hands. And me too."

"Oh my god! You're just as weird as he is! Well, I didn't do that! I just gave him a look and took the wrapper and left. It was too funny though! I could only just contain my laughter until I was in the corridor. Y'know, for politeness sake."

"That was so well done of you though."

"I know! Wasn't it? But, oh my god, I've never laughed so much. Strange man. And so short and not at all like Colonel Sheppard or Major Lorne…"

"Colonel Sheppard… he's so..."

She stood, muttered and 'excuse me' and stepped away. Leaving the gaggle of women to their gossip and comparisons. 

I've dealt with their types before. The Queen Bee in the middle, wanting all of the attention, and her minions around her, echoing her opinions. The popular girls, the mean girls. Fueled by some weird need for approval and jealousy of anyone who gets a speck of favour they deem is theirs. Then you'll be the object of their bullying. I had enough of them at school and college and at work too. I thought here would be different. Obviously not!

She took a few steps away. But was stilled when she heard the laughter rise again. Tilting her head, she loitered and listened.

"I heard how he has a wife."

"I heard how he had a wife."

"I mean, how did he get one in the first place? He's not exactly…"

"Well maybe he's… you know…?"

She watched a crude hand gesture and then more laughter.

"Can't be his personality!"

"I mean, I heard how he rarely leaves the city, since they found it. So no wonder his wife left. How many years have they been here, do you remember, from the training videos? I mean I didn't attend, obviously, that nice lieutenant let me skip, because I helped him out with… you know…"

More laughter.

"I didn't let him skip though, if you know what I mean?"

More crude laughter. 

"Years they've been here for, isn't it? Three or four? Something like that. Instant grounds for a case of abandonment! I mean, maybe it was the excuse she was waiting for because…?"

She heard a rude sound and more laughter.

"I know! Imagine being second fiddle to his… whatever it is he does? Science stuff? Nothing important, I'd warrant."

"Now then, that's enough about him, did I tell you about what the Colonel said to me? When I just so happened to be cleaning the sports room, when he was in there? All sweaty…"

"Ohhhh! Tell us!"

"Well…"

She walked away. Having heard enough. Not wanting to be another fly hanging around the queen bee.

Shallow. Ignorant. Self important fools! Well, I've certainly learned who to avoid here!

Chapter Text

Myško…

He lay in his bed, cursing himself for not knowing her name and at having to resort to calling her that soft endearment, meant for children. His mind eventually wandered to her eyes and their kaleidoscope colour, as it always did, while he lay in his quiet quarters and thought up impossible scenarios.

Kočičko… Maybe that would suit her better, with her pretty hazel eyes? Brown like the nuts, but green like a cat's eyes too and there's hints of amber there too… Yes… Maybe…? No… No, she's Myško… Myško… Small and quiet…

He shook his head, knowing that he'd never have the opportunity to call her either of those things.

"Ty jseš vole! Pako! Debil! Kurva! Kurva!" Cursing her and himself and everything. Cursing his shyness, his insecurity, his inability to compete with the myriad Captain James Tiberius Kirks that surrounded her and him, with their big muscles and self-assured bravado. The short scientist with a… how had they described him… those soldiers who hadn't shut down their conversation quick enough, who had not noticed him listening, as they discussed him?

What was it they had said? Ah yes. 'Dad-bod.' 

That is what he had heard them whisper about him. He pressed his hands to his sides and sucked in his belly, as he stood in front of the mirror in his quarters. Sighing and running a hand through his wild hair. Pushing his glasses back up his nose. Dressing and storming out to the labs. Placing himself in the foulest of moods that day. Everyone knew to stay away. Everyone knew to keep back from him. His words, both spoken and typed, held no hint of English that day.

The only thing that pulled him out and away from the deep funk that he had fallen into, other than his beloved science, was a visit to the library. A place that he had always relied on all throughout his life: when a child, when a student, when he was learning his doctorate, when he was working for the Louvre. That library was the best he had ever hid in. He had escaped to the base library, back in the Cheyenne mountain complex, after garnering his hoped for assignment, as part of the original Atlantis Expedition team. Hiding in that small library of Daniel Jacksons, under the pretext of learning about the Ancient language and tech that he knew would be part and parcel of his assignment here on Atlantis. In reality, hiding from all the hubbub and excitement and social nonsense that was going on around him and also reassuring himself that he had taken he right path, choosing there, instead of taking the alternate offer of his dream job: a place at Masaryk University.

He had discovered the library on Atlantis early on in his wanderings around the city. Finding it in an out of the way location. In the central spire of the city, but low down. Inhabited by an elderly librarian who frowned at him over the rim of her glasses. He delighted in its cozy quietude. And revelled in the fact that no-one else seemed to even know about it, let alone use it. Finding all sorts of books about Ancient tech and history and language there. Needing the comfort of the physical books there to cope with the stresses and strains of not only the near miss disasters that the city bred, but also with Rodney McKay and his teenager moods. He fell back to the soft, solitary comfort of books, when the ATA gene therapy didn't take in him and he was denied the ability to operate Ancient technology. Rodney delighted in the fact that he had that upper hand over him, because the gene therapy took in him. Ripe Czech words had taken over from English ones, for the entirety of that week when he had discovered the disappointment of not being able to keep up with the Canadian scientist. The books in the small library of Atlantis helped him bridge that gap.

But the library didn't hold any clues on what to do with her. And he dare not ask the system librarian, who seemed to read his mind and had him blushing and sweating with the knowing smirks that she sent his way. So he was reduced to doing hings the old fashioned and scientific way. Learning via observation of the subject matter.

He had seen her a handful of times, as she went about her duties about the city. Noting how sometimes she moved briskly, hurrying, scurrying with a scowled frown. But then at other times, she idled and loitered, wearing a soft smile in her face that he wished was for him, but knew it would never be. Not when he hid from her. Observing and spotting her, when she did not even notice him, as she scurried about the city and her duties, pushing her trolley. A smile on her face. Or a frown. Not noticing how he was watching her.

But why would she notice someone like me? Why would she notice an old, unfit, scientist? She scurries about, just like I named her though… Myško… I named her such, but she is not mine…

A frown darkened his face whenever he had the misfortune to overhear his colleagues and the soldiers speak with such abandon about their conquests or future ones. He listened to them speak with awful, lurid, graphic words that made his blood boil. Listening to their fantasies of what they would do, or had done to someone made the strongest Czech swears bubble and rose up. He didn't quite understand the metaphors and colloquialisms, but he knew their intent. And if he recognised that they were speaking about her, from how they described her, then his ears pricked up and he sidled closer. When he had heard enough and was certain of their subject, he barged into their conversation and let rip. The large, black pot of Czech swears overflowed and they were told, in no uncertain terms, to cease and desist. Then they were either sent to see Colonel Sheppard, on a charge of misconduct, if it was a soldier. Or sent off to see Representative Richard Woolsey, with a recommendation that they be sent back to earth, if it was one of his scientists.

At least she was safe from Rodney McKay's roving eye. Radek knew of McKay's propensity to ogle over any female with short, blonde hair. Especially if they had even the slightest smatterings of Colonel Carter's looks. But, thankfully, she had none of those looks. 

He crept closer to the gossiping soldiers who loitered in the balcony, just outside the control room. Listening to them laugh about someone. Listening to them lust after someone. His brows creased in dark rage when he heard how they laughed at and promised to do vile things with some unsuspecting person. His frown deepened, when he knew, from the descriptions, who they were speaking of.



He stamped closer and growled out a warning, sending those soldiers on their way, glaring after their retreating backs, before he stamped away. Heading back to his lab with mumbled swearings seeping from beneath his breath, as he remembered her smile, that small smile, that had loosened the city's jealous grip upon him. He sat at his station and hammered out on the keyboard.

How dare they speak about her like that! She deserves more! Better! Flowers. Romance! Not such, such, depravity!

He tapped out a sequence of commands, setting off a simulation to run. Glaring at the screen, folding his arms while he waited for it to finish.

I need to do something, before she's snatched up by someone else!

At least, from his earwigging, he had learned that she was definitely still single. That she had no suitors.

Not yet, anyway. I need to be quick. I need to joust aside all of these other potential suitors!

He mentally kicked himself, when he compared himself to those gossiping soldiers. Knowing that it would be a losing battle, if one of them chose to challenge him.

A duel? Is that what is needed? Should I challenge them to such? Did people still do that, to win the fair maiden?

He knew some tricks, he had spent a handful of years in the army himself. Yes, his body was not the muscled mass that those younger men were. But youth did not win every battle. He had cunning and stealth on his side. Learned while dodging the Státní bezpečnost, the StB, in Prague. Learned while watching his back, trying to stay out of the places where you were sent when someone offered your name up to the authorities when some busy body told them that you had been seen there. And then you would be sent to other places. Places that you didn't come back from. Places where he knew friends and family had been sent off to. They had been taken in the night and had never returned, never been seen again. Too many people had just disappeared like that. It was just like when the Wraith took someone. Except that those friends of his, back in the old communist days, weren't eaten. They were still consumed though. Consumed and then their remains were disposed of by the regime.

He knew that he did not know English as well as those other men did. He knew that he had different social signals and graces, ones learned in what the Westerners would call poverty. From a youth spent in a damp basement and tents, not knowing their wealth, in comparison, lifestyles, as well as they did. He knew that his compliment on the lovely scented hair of the new doctor in the infirmary had backfired. A scent that was different from the regulation lemon scented shampoo that he and most others used. He also knew that to be trapped in a transporter with him was not something that anyone would wish upon their enemies! Not after that happened to him.

But she smiled at me. That had to mean something, right? Right?

He spent the rest of the day wrapped up in the commiseration prize of having her smile, her touch and at least knowing that she was not otherwise taken. Yet.

More observations are needed, before I try anything. I'm a scientist! I'm good at that! It's what I do!

-

Elfin. A new word, learned from one of the soldiers. He learned that she was elfin. Petite. Another word that she was called. He agreed with both assessments. She had such delicate features that the utilitarian uniform, that all wore here, hid and suffocated her. He caught glimpses of what lay underneath, when she took her too bulky, too big jacket off. Revealing slender shoulders, a thin waist, cinched in by her trousers and a too long belt that had its ends wrapped around and around. Pert breasts were also observed, ones that pushed at her tight blue top had him salivating and shifting in his seat and thinking things that he should not at this time of day or night or at all about someone he did not know and neither did he have any hope of knowing. That thought had him heading off to the lab, losing himself in his work. His flares and mutterings a warning for others to leave him and his black mood be.

Myško…

Her pretty, dark hair was always tucked up and away in a clip, so he couldn't tell how long or short it was because of that utilitarian grasp upon her tresses. His fingers itched to undo that clip and to spread her locks out. To be able to watch them fall around her shoulders. To be able to run his fingers through her silken hair. Knowing that it would be so soft, that it would slip through his fingers like water. 

Myško…

These were all the things that had him recreating the lurid things he heard his staff and those lusty soldiers wish to do to her and more in his bed at night. With his hand pumping and his breath gasping and panting out, as he swore and swore and swore and cursed himself for not even knowing her name. 

Myško…

Her true name was eventually found out from overheard conversations. So that the next time he lay in his bed, he could say that, instead of calling her that soft endearment, meant for children.

Katerina! Ha! She is kočičko then, after all! But no… no, she is still myško to me…

Another new piece of information that he noticed, something that made his task easier, was that she always seemed to sit in the same spot in the mess hall. Two tables away from him, if he was there first. This gave him a spark of hope. One that caused him to make certain that he sat two tables from her, if she was there first. 

But the erratic nature of his schedule dimmed that candle of hope, as it meant that it was hit or miss as to whether he spied her in the mess hall or not. He made sure to look out for her whenever he went. His smile faded, when she was missing. His anger increased when he noticed how the tables around her were full. Swearing and grumbling as he shoved himself in a chair as close to her as he could. 

He prodded the keyboard again. Willing the simulation to run faster.  Allowing his thoughts to wander, while he waited.

-

He halted. Freezing in the corridor that he had been walking in. On his way back to his lab. Pockets stuffed full of energy bars filched from the mess hall. A cup of coffee in each hand. Striding back to hopefully, a set of completed data run through the simulation. But the mention of a name had him skidding to a halt. He took a quiet step closer, peering around the turn in the corridor. Frowning at the group of three soldiers loitering there,  smiling and laughing. He waited, wondering if he had mistaken the name he had heard them saying. He tilted his head and held his breath, listening, waiting.

"…I mean she's got all the curves in all the right places. You tell him, tell Cooper what you saw in the gate room!"

"Aw, man! That sight fuelled me for days!"

He watched as the speaker did a rude hand gesture.

"On her hands and knees, cute little backside wiggling away! Who wouldn't want to be knelt behind that and…"

Another crude gesture with his hips and laughter. 

"Not seen her much up here though. Just a few times. In the mess hall. Sits too close to where the Colonel usually sits, so I can't, y'know, approach for reconnoitering and testing the lay of the land, or other things…"

"The lay of her land, you mean!"

Another gesture. 

"Not seen her speak to anyone. So I don't think there'll be any competition."

"Seen that weird little science guy look at her though."

"Look at her, how?"

"Y'know, hungry like?"

"Ha. Pretty bit of tail like her, she'd not be interested in him, so you've nothing to worry about there, Coop."

"I don't know what those strange science guys do anyway, what use are they here, not like they can fight or anything, is it?"

He ground his teeth, at the laughter and set free some choice Czech words, then straightened his shoulders and trod forwards. Striding right up to where the three loitered. 

"I'd straighten up if I were you, Colonel Sheppard is following after me, on his way to see if us weird little science guys have fixed the shield modulator, you know, one of the strange science things that protects us from the Wraith and all the other things that want us dead?" He raised his chin and carried on past them, not hanging about, striding off and away to the security of his lab. Having heard enough, having said enough. 

-

He stepped out of the transporter and hurried to the location that Sheppard had pinged to him. Following the corridor until he came across the small group of people.

"Ah, Zelenka! Over here!"

He walked over to where Colonel Sheppard waved at him. His tracks were halted though, by what was revealed, as he drew closer. A body. A woman. Lying. Open eyed. Glassy eyed. No blinking. No frowning. A soundless scream falling for evermore from their open, dead mouth. Hands clawed, as if grasping, reaching for their killer, but unable to stop them from escaping. Their clothing was disheveled. Torn. Their body was in a similar state, spread, wide-open, perpendicular to the long corridor. 

"Ježiši!"

"I need you and your camera over here, Zelenka! Hurry now, we don't have long before we need to clean up and get everything back to as was! Woolsey's orders!"

"Ah. Yes. Right. I will…" he swallowed more curses away and stepped over to where Sheppard was pointing. Exchanging a loaded look with Carson, as he walked around the body. Timid steps, not wanting to disturb their ceaseless slumber.

"This one's worse… Maybe the first was…" Carson started, then paused.

"Do you think that first one… That they were disturbed? That they didn't get a chance to… to…" Zelenka's words tailed off, as he took innumerable photos. Not wanting to say what all three men thought. That this second body, this second woman, was abused, where the first wasn't, because someone had disturbed them before they could.

"Let's get done here as quick as we can, guys, then get her covered up and back…" Sheppard clapped his hands, chivvying the medic and the scientist on.

Zelenka nodded, holding his breath, as he took photos of the bruise-coloured fingerprints on her neck, just above where her throat had been slit. Photos that he could compare to the same ones on the other woman's neck. He licked his lips and carried on with his work. Offering her an apology, as he moved clothing to take photos of more bruises. Thanking the Lord that he would not be the one to have to write to her relatives back home. Knowing that he would be having a sleepless night tonight, after having seen this. 

"It somehow feels worse… I mean, we see death most days here, the Wraith, Genii, but… this… Someone here must have done this! Someone on Atlantis! It weren't no alien that did this to her!"

"No… No, it wasn't… Will there be an announcement, do you think, this time?"

"Woolsey's already said no. He doesn't want this leaking out and lynchings happening. You know how people can be…" Sheppard paused to shake his head.

"Not even to tell people, to tell women, to be more careful?" Zelenka thought of her, with her wanderings over the city all alone. He hoped that she didn't have to go anywhere into the less populated areas. Just as he did. But then he didn't care as much about himself.

I need to speak to Woolsey, to try and maybe make him see that some sort of announcement or alteration to standard workings are needed. That we should be sending more security details out within the city, as well as off-world now…

Chapter Text

Infatuation. It's nothing more than a bad case of infatuation because he happened to smile at me. Because his smile was so bright, so blue. Because he touched me and… and his touch… When he touched me, it felt like I was hurled back through the Stargate! Flying through space… Lightning…

She stirred her porridge, frowning down at it, cursing herself and this nonsense situation.

Infatuation… It's nothing more than that. I'm being silly, foolish, crazy!

A voice. Deep. Accented. Angry. She paused. Holding her breath. Wide eyes stared down at her cooling breakfast and her hand shook, as she knew that voice, she recognised the timbre, the accent.

Don't look up! Don't! Don't feed the infatuation! That's all it is! It's nothing more than that… Just infatuation… Plain and simple. Infatuation because of one smile and one touch that won't ever be repeated again. I've been here a fortnight now and that's all I have. One smile. One touch. Don't look up!

The voice drew nearer. Close enough to understand the words. A breath was puffed out and her grip on her spoon made her knuckles whiten.

It's nothing but infatuation… Don't look up!

She lifted her eyes up. Raising her gaze. A rabbit drawn to the hunter. Slowly, slowly. She saw feet. Shoes she recognised. The shape of legs, a tummy that she knew. A wide chest. 

I can move on… I can stop looking…

Her heart sped and she swallowed, or tried to, but her throat was dry and hot. She felt warm beads of sweat roll down her back. Her gaze tracked higher. Drawn higher. Moth to a flame. 

I can look away. I can move away from this nothing… It's nothing… A silly infatuation. Nothing more… Nothing…

A stubbled jaw. Dimpled chin. Smiling lips. Small glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Bright blue eyes.  

I can leave this… I can stop doing this. I can—

A blink, as she caught his gaze. As he smiled at her.

Oh god!

Vision torn away, she hunched down. Hunkering down. Heart pounding. Sweating. Gripping her tray. Tensed. No fight. Just flight. No. Not even that. Her legs shook, as she moved her head and saw two feet stop next to her. A pair of shoes that she knew. She looked up and caught his gaze again. Catching his smile again.

Ohgodohgodohgod!

"What are you doing Zelenka! Come on! This needs doing and figuring out today! Stop dawdling!"

"Yes, Rodney! I know! I just—"

"God, it's like herding toddlers! I'm stuck with toddlers as my staff. Why me? Why me!"

Footsteps and the voice of who she knew to be his boss, walked away. She was left watching his smile fade and leave her. Left, turning in her chair, watching him turn away from her, taking his smile away from her. Left watching his back, his long hair fluffing out as he walked away. Left listening to a growled out slew of mumbled words that she recognised, though did not understand, as he moved away. 

She breathed out, swivelled in her seat, then grabbed up her tray of half eaten breakfast and fled. Pausing at the bins to empty the rubbish off of her tray. Shoving her tray in the rack where used ones sat, for the catering crew to take and clean and reuse.

I'm an idiot. Fool. Oh god. I should have spoken to him! Why didn't I speak to him! I'm too much of a mouse! I can't! I can't…

She peered around the rack. Seeking him out. Finding him. Watching his head shake, his hands wave around, as he sat at his usual table, talking with his boss and two others there. She knew who they all were now, those who he sat with, at his usual table. The chief scientist, the colonel in charge of the military and a beautiful woman with a pretty smile, who was part of a civilian population that had been rescued, on the first planet that the new Earth denizens of the hidden city of Atlantis, had come across. 

"Excuse me, but I need to put my tray in the rack…"

"Oh yes," she answered, while shifting away from where she stood and stared. "Sorry…" She turned and scurried and hurried away from whoever had spoken to her. Heading to a bathroom. Dousing her face in cold water. Gripping the sink. Staring up at herself in the mirror.

Oh god… What am I doing! Is this really what I think it is? Infatuation? Maybe… Yes… No… I don't know anymore. Maybe…? Maybe it's more than that…? I know now… Or do I…? 

-

"Watch what you're doing!"

He won't want to know me… Even if I go and speak to him, which I won't, because I can't…

"What…?"

"You're dripping your cloth on my foot!"

Another smile… He gave me another smile though…

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

He smiled at me again! I'm… oh no… I need to stop thinking about him like this… I need to concentrate, or I'll be cleaning toilets for the rest of the year here! I'll be on permanent punishment duty!

"Can you stop that, please!"

"Maybe…"

But he smiled at me again… How can I stop thinking of him now…? I can stop. I will stop! I must stop! 

"Are you going to stop!"

"I might…"

I don't want to, do I?

"Can you please stop!"

"I won't…"

I should stop this…

"What did you just say!"

"I can't…"

It was only a little smile, it meant nothing, didn't it? It was a tiny smile, just a small one…

"You little…"

"So small…"

It was nothing much… Nothing of anything. Just a smile, but look what it has me doing…

"You're crazy!"

"I am…"

He's making me… I'm going crazy!

"Bloody lunatic!"

"Sorry, what was that?"

"You're mad! You need to go and see a Doctor, you do!"

She turned and watched a person walk away from where she was cleaning the sinks in the bathroom. Wetness seeped into her foot through her sodden shoe and had her swearing at herself. Swearing and blushing and wondering what the hell her stupid infatuation had just made her do.

"Oh shit!" She shifted her feet out of the puddle that was dripping from the sodden cloth that she was squeezing in her hand.

Chapter Text

He was only half listening to McKay, while they walked through the mess hall, strolling, laden trays in hand, towards their usual table. Instead, his attention was gazing around himself. Staring around the mess hall. Searching, looking, wondering if she would be there again. Or if he would be disappointed, as he had been the past few days.

There! She is there!

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, when he spotted her. He smiled and his fingers tightened their grip upon his tray.

"Did you hear me, Zelenka?"

"Yes, Rodney!"

His heart sped and he swallowed. Feeling beads of sweat roll between his shoulder blades and drip down his spine, pooling at the top of his bum cleft. There was a saying for that, one of McKays colloquialisms that he could never get quite correct. 

Something to do with a squeaky chair or backside or something…

He watched her, as he walked closer to where she was sitting. Watching her gaze rise higher and higher. His eyes watched hers. A smile grew on his face, as he saw her scan his body from his shoes to his belly, his chest and now his face. Higher and higher, her eyes rose in their assessment of him. He watched her raise her head up and up, until she caught his eyes with hers. Blue held hazel for one second, one blink, before she looked away, tearing herself away from his happy gaze, fracturing his newly birthed smile. The corners of his mouth fell, as he watched her return to her hunched down, hunkering down, usual self.

Little mouse… Why do you not want to look up and see me…? I know that I am not much to look at, that there's not much to see… But surely she can see that I am no danger to her…? Surely…? If I wait here and maybe she will look back up…?

He halted next to her, standing there. His heart was pounding. He was sweating as if he had been labouring in the summer sun, helping harvest the wheat fields, as he had done in his youth, during the school summer holidays, sweating while he gripped his tray. Tensed. Frozen. Deciding. Waiting. His smile blossomed anew, when he saw her raise her head and lift her gaze to meet his once more. His mind ran around, trying to choose, trying to decide what to do next, now he had her, trying to decide what to say to the little, scared mouse, to reassure her, even though he felt as afraid as she looked. But, any decisions that he was mulling over, they were scattered to the four winds, like chaff in the breeze, as a voice chimed in next to where he stood and pondered. 

"What are you doing, Zelenka!"

He stood. He stopped. 

I'm stuck!

Stuck between her and duty, as McKay shouted at him and turned to face him, tapping a foot, frowning over at Zelenka in that disappointed way of his. 

"Come on, Zelenka! This needs doing and figuring out today! Stop dawdling!"

"Yes, Rodney! I know! I just—"

"God, it's like herding toddlers! I'm stuck with toddlers, as my staff. Why me? Why me!"

Duty took over and a growled out slew of mumbled words in Czech was thrown at McKay, replacement for the tray that he could not throw the Canadian's way, even though he dearly wanted to. Zelenka turned and moved away from her and trod towards duty. Duty always won out. Always. It always pulled the strongest at him. He mumbled a small omluva to her and made a promise to her and himself.

Next time… Next time…

-

"Ah, Zelenka, there you are! Have you finished those calculations that I gave you?"

She smiled at me… 

"Mmm…"

"Good. Ohhh. A fruit cup. Are you going to eat it?"

Her touch… I have two smiles, but only one touch… I need more!

"Mmm…"

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Her smile… Her touch… Does that mean…?

"Mmm…"

"I mean, I suppose that's a yes… Why would anyone not want to eat their… Oh! It's one with jello! I didn't know they were doing those again? Umm… You know it's just sitting there, right? If you don't want it, Zelenka, then…?"

Does she like me…? That way…? And if she does, do I say no or yes…? To whatever it is…?

"Yes…"

"What? Is that a yes I can have it, or a yes you're going to keep it?"

Fool! You know what it is, you know what she wants… Don't you?

"No…"

"You're not making any sense here, Zelenka! Well actually you're making as much sense as usual and I'm not sure how much that is so… I'll just outright ask you, Zelenka, what will you trade for your jello fruit cup?" 

Do you really want to go there again…? To be hurt again…?

"I don't know…"

"What's that? You don't know what?"

She's so… 

"Beautiful…"

"What…? I mean, I know they're good, but I wouldn't go that far…?"

Do you want that sort of pain and heartache again?

"I don't know what I want…"

"Ah… Ok… So… I've got some chocolate, European chocolate. I know how much you go on about how American chocolate isn't chocolate, so…? Do you want that, do you want to do that swap, or…?"

Why did I smile at her and touch her…?

"I don't know…"

"Ah. Ok… How about… You can go through my collection of movies and take what you want. I don't really know what genre you like… so…?"

You know where this will lead! You swore off that, off of any kind of heartache that comes from that kind of thing! 

"Romance! Ha!"

"Yea… I'm not really one for that type of soppy nonsense either."

You said that you're not interested in that or in anything physical either!

"Sex!"

"What! You… Porn…? Um… I mean the films I have… they're not hardcore, more like porn-ish…"

Why would she be interested in me anyway! I'm not a soldier, I'm no Kirk, no man of action like… Like Sheppard! Who wants an egghead scientist, when they can have him! I'm too… 

"Soft!"

"Oh… Yes… I suppose they are more soft-core... But how did you know about—"

"Ah, Rodney, Zelenka! Glad I caught you both!"

"Sheppard!" Rodney turned towards the Colonel.

The loud soldier's voice pulled Zelenka out of his musings. "Colonel Sheppard? Oh and Rodney? When did you get here? I've those calculations for you."

"So, science guys! Which one of you is coming to test the new sensors out with me?"

"Zelenka! He is!"

"What! But!"

"As your superior, I can order you."

"You are not my superior, Rodney! You are the head of science here! I am the head of engineering and—"

"And engineering falls under the remit of science! Yes, glad we've settled that one!"

"Guess it's me and you then, Doctor Zelenka!"

"It seems so!" Radek huffed.

"Get yourself kitted out and I'll see you at the gate in ten."

"Yes."

"So… Your fruit cup, Zelenka…? You won't be needing it…"

"What? Oh, yes, take it!"

"And the films… Do you still want to borrow one of them?"

"What? I've no time for films!"

"Ah. Ok, I mean, you won't mention that I have those films to anyone, will you, yes?" McKay tapped the side of his nose.

"Those films? What films!"

"Ah, good one! Yes!" Rodney winked and let out a wobbled laugh, feeling his cheeks heat and his back sweat. 

Radek shook his head, gathered up his datapad and jacket and headed out. Mumbling in Czech, as he went, about fool Canadian scientists.

Chapter Text

A spillage needed to be cleaned. That was all that the work ticket, one marked as 'urgent!', one that flashed on the screen of her datapad that she stared down at, told her. There wasn't much else that the work ticket told her, except that it had come down from the very top. So she scurried off to collect the most general of equipment that should cover most things and followed the route given on the work ticket. Pushing her trolley to where the ticket led her. Trundling off to where her new task awaited her. 

The transporter spat her out next to the grand hall where the gate stood. Where she had arrived on that first day and had stumbled in front of everyone. Where he had smiled at her beneath that large, circular gate, that had spun and held a pool of time and space to walk through. She asked the soldier who stood there, near the gate, for the name that the datapad told her that she was supposed to report to: a marine sergeant. The soldier pointed her to him.

"Hi… um… I'm here to clean a… spillage?"

"Spillage…?" The sergeant frowned down at her. "Oh! You mean the Wraith! I guess, technically it's a spillage of their blood, so…?" He shrugged. "Over here." The sergeant took her to the area that needed to be cleaned.

A scan with her UV light told her the extent of the 'spillage'. 

Hmmm… Bodily fluids… Definitely doesn't look human. That colour… yes… it definitely looks exactly like what we were taught about in training. But… 

Gloves were donned and touched to that strange coloured fluid. A sniff confirmed what her training and the sergeant had told her about the 'spillage'.

Wraith…

And now she definitely knew that, she knew that she needed to change up the chemicals she used, to be able to remove it in the most efficient manner. The snort of disgust that came from behind her, when she did another sniff, to double check, also told her all that she needed to know about that marine sergeant.

The appropriate cleaning chemicals were collected and dropped onto the spillage. As she worked, scrubbing on her hands and knees, she huffed and rolled her eyes at the laughter and comments that came from behind her. They also told her all she needed to know about this male-dominated place.

A voice, shouted out from up above. Loud shouts rang down from the bright-lit control room that she had peered at when arriving, noting that the one she had looked for was not there. Loud words shouted down from up above. Words that shifted the sniggering soldiers off and away from her. Leaving her in peace to continue her duty. 

I know that voice! That accent…

She brushed her hair away from her eyes with her forearm and peered upwards. 

Him…? 

A man was leaning against a railing and frowning at the departing soldiers. 

Him!

The one whose blue eyes haunted her mind during the daytime and whose soft touch stroked her dreams at night. The one whose lightning followed her around every day and night, since her arrival here. Since his smile. Since his touch. Since the sharp lightning strike of both had stabbed her deep, hard, sharp.

Him…

She could not see his eyes, but she knew them so well. The zap of them had emblazoned their colour upon her mind. The sharp blue of a frost filled morning. The warm blue of a summer sky. The siren sang to her. It called to her. 

Him…

She could not feel his touch. The explosion. Fireworks. The zap of something warm and soft and gentle upon her fingers. But she felt his touch scurry up her arm and curl around up in her chest. She could not feel the touch of his fingers against hers. But the hot remnants of a remembered touch, stole her thoughts, just as they did back then. The remnants of a touch as beautiful and as warm as his smile. That secondary strike had her eyes widening and her mouth opening.

Him!

He was there. Stood up on high, gripping the railing. Frowning at the shuffling soldiers. She watched, as his mouth moved, she was too far away to hear his quiet, frowned mutterings. But she saw how his lips thinned. Then his head turned. She froze. Rabbit held in the lights of a hunter. Her breath halted, as his gaze caught hers. She blinked at him, felt her mouth rise onto a smile, a thanks for his protection. Her smile wavered though, as all she received in return was a nod. Then she was left staring at his broad back and his fluffy, wild hair, when he turned and moved away from her.  Leaving her to stare some more, at the blank space where he had been.

Him…

His actions there, now, today, they warmed her and fed her, thawing her frozen body. Pushing her to breathe and to continue her work there. Safe in the knowledge that she wouldn't be harassed, while she finished. 

A quick peek was taken. A sneaked shot up towards hot temptation, grazing her glance up to his lofty post, as she stood, her task finished. Her sneaked look told her that he was sitting behind a laptop up there, only the top of his fluffy head visible over his screen. 

Is he smiling there, behind the screen that hides him? I can't tell. I hope so…

She watched and wondered, but all of her thoughts evaporated. Burnt away by the cheek-reddening lightning of anticipated embarrassment of being caught, as she saw him move and shift. Trapped . Stunned. She stared. Caught in the act. Caught by him. Tethered by that touch, as his head rose. Caught. Trapped. Stunned. Lightning coursed through her once more, as he caught her gaze. 

Her cheeks ached with joy at his glance. She sent him a message, a plea, with her smile. Begging him. Asking him. Beseeching. The bottom of his face was hidden though. 

His hook grappled and grabbed her. A shared look. A shared glance. Held for a count of one, two, three, before her datapad beeped and blinked at her and distracted her, forcing her to look away, to tear his hook out, gouging her. Ripping at her, as she frowned and tapped at her datapad's laughed insistence. She judged it and looked back up, but he was gone. Leaving her empty. Leaving her free to go about her next, overdue, duty.

-

She idled along behind her trundling trolley. Smiling, as she walked to her next duty. Smiling, as that scene in the gate room, the grand hall there, played out, over and over, in her mind.

Why did he notice me there? Why did he act as my protector, my guardian there? He didn't have to intervene, from his spot, way up on high. He could have left me to my fate, as most others do here. I've dealt with such and worse before. So why did he make a point of doing what he did? Why?

That question accompanied her all week, as she went about her duties. It pulled at her, as she trod the city's lonely corridors. It pushed her feet to walk and pause and look around her, as she travelled between duties. It told her to always peek out and around her. To not walk with her head down and her face hidden. Looking around her and hoping. But, so far, she was always disappointed. Annoyed because her calm patience was stretched to breaking point, as she reached out for even the tiniest glimpse of him, but was left empty handed. Disappointed, because he wasn't there, in the lonely corridors and spaces where she trod.

Even though the thought of seeing him again, it made her blush and sweat in anticipation and feel oh so scared and useless as to what to say to him. Even though she wished that he was there, in front of her again. Even though all that she could manage to think of, to say to him, was a nonsense pile of gibberish that no-one, speaking any language, would probably be able to understand. 

The thought of him, of his smile, of his gentleness and his anger at those soldiers, the thought of him protecting her, that accompanied her, as she walked those vast stretches of corridors alone. Especially since she knew that there was someone out there who had killed. 

Twice! 

She hadn't heard any announcements or gossip or anything that told her about what had happened in those two people badly cleaned locations. Her knowledge told her what had happened there, at those two separate locations, where the work tickets sent her to. Two separate, distant, dim, corridors where someone had hastily cleaned up someone's deaths. Violent deaths too. Deaths that someone else was maybe trying to cover up. 

Someone must know something, or why was I sent there those two times? But no-one is saying anything. Which is odd. There's been a few people in my team who haven't shown up for duties. But there were more than two of them… way more. More like two dozen. And they were all explained away as not being up to the job, sent back to Earth. Or they had asked to be sent back. There was no-one who was announced as… 

And there's been nothing announced outside of my team either. So… Maybe I'm just cleaning up some sort of exercise thing? Some sort of army training thing? It all looked so real though… Too real… 

Maybe they were the result of another Wraith attack, like at the gate? But there was no Wraith blood… Maybe that's because they weren't injured though? I didn't find any human blood at the gate… So maybe it's the opposite of that?

She peered around her, as she walked towards her next job. Another in a lonely corridor away from everyone and everything. Her steps sped up, as she heard a noise behind her. She hurried along the empty corridor. Moving to keep up with the bright, white lights that shifted brightened, just in front of her, noting how they dimmed to an amber yellow when she passed and darkened completely, when she dared to look behind her. The lights breathed and shifted along the corridor that she travelled, shifting in intensity, pulling her along and hurrying her on her way. 

It's alright. It's alright. There's nothing here. I'm brave. I'm strong. I don't need anyone.

A noise behind her. A sound. A snap. A thud. It had her hastening her steps, following the lights as they sped up too.

I wish he was here! Please! Oh god!

She ran. Praying. Wishing that he could be there with her, to protect her. Just as he had done in the gate room, even though she had never seen him with a gun and probably would have been safer with a bunch of those laughing soldiers. 

No! Him! I want him!

She wished for him, the scientist, to be walking, to be running with her, as the changing lights dragged her along her route and lit up the open doors of an empty transporter. 

She jumped in and pressed the location and waited, panting, gasping, as the room hummed. Waiting with the thought of him, the ghost of him, accompanying her, as if he accompanied her in person, even though she was all alone.

Chapter Text

Radek heard Chuck speak to his fellow technician. Blue eyes were distracted and frowned up from where he sat, torn away from his own laptop. The two technicians were pointing at something down below, in the gate room. He stood and moved over to the railings, to get a better view at what they were pointing at. He saw someone walk from the transporter and go across the grand hall towards where the gate stood. They pushed a cart. A cleaning cart. Probably off to clean away the leftovers from yet another failed Wraith attack, from in front of the gate. He pushed his glasses up his nose and allowed his gaze to trail after the person who pushed the cart. Recognising her slight frame. Recognising the colour of her hair.

Myško…?

Aftershocks. Remnants. Not as strong. Memory of that lighting. Attenuated by her smile at someone else. Aroused a green eyed dog. Waking it, causing it to bare its teeth. His fingers tightened around the railing of that balcony, as he watched her speak to one of the marines who permanently loitered down there, as protection. That soldier sent her off to another man. The sergeant in charge of the security detail down there. Green eyes snarled. Causing the lightning to spike. Sharp. Hot. When she spoke to a sergeant who pointed her to the mess left by the failed Wraith incursion.

Radek had been witness to the mayhem and mess that had ensued, when a Wraith warrior had come through the gate. He had been standing where he was now, when the Wraith had tailgated through, following on the heels of a shouting Colonel Sheppard and a screaming Rodney McKay. He had slammed the buttons that closed the gate and watched from this balcony, as two human soldiers were killed, before the Wraith was killed too.

He knew what it was that she would have to clean and he flinched for her, green eyes blinked and whined and blue returned. Watching, as she approached the mess of Wraith blood. Frowning, when she stared with an impassive, interested face, down at the stains, looking just as he would, at a set of data. As if it was a normal work thing. His frown held, as he watched how she touched and assessed the fluids between two gloved fingertips. He scrunched his nose up, as he saw her sniff at the Wraith blood.

His work continued to be ignored, while he watched her at her work. Chemicals were dropped onto the blood. His face heated at what she did next though. As she bent down and leaned on her hands and knees, with her backside towards him, jiggling, wobbling, as she scrubbed. He swallowed and ran a finger around the collar of his blue top, suddenly feeling far too warm and hot up there, where he stood and ogled and truly understood that first held, heated promise from her touch, her smile. 

A snigger pulled him out of his lurid observations. He frowned over at the crude comment that Chuck let slip.

"Eyes on your screens please, not there!" Radek barked out. Snapping, snarling.

"Yessir! But uh… you might want to tell them that too…?"

"Them…?" From his high vantage point, Radek looked to where Chuck pointed. Green eyes were back. They growled at how two soldiers, down at the gate, were making crude hand gestures from their vantage point behind where she worked. He gripped the railing, his knuckles whitening, the growl growing, as he watched the armed men nudge each other and laugh.

"You two! Yes, you! Get back to your posts! Stop gawping! Do you want more Wraith to come through, while you are busy looking elsewhere!" He offered his words with a tooth-bared snarl. Watching, still showing his sharp teeth, as they shifted away, moving away from his little mouse.

"Jdi do prdele! Jdi do píči!" he muttered, at the two soldiers. One last, growled frown was dropped at them. Sharp green eyes trailed after them, as they shuffled off to join their sergeant. 

"Uh… Doctor Zelenka…?" 

The Bohemian shepherd congratulated himself on a job well done, in ushering those loiterers away from her and he made to turn and see what Chuck wanted, but he was halted from doing so, when she moved. He was frozen there, leaning on the railing, watching her, as she brushed her fringe from her eyes with her forearm and peered upwards. Her gaze caught his. He swallowed and sweated, when he caught her slow, cat-like blink and smile. Lightning. Sharp. Hot. It stabbed at him. Promising once more. Offering everything. 

Myško… Her…

Her. The one that haunted his mind with the soft shadows of her smile during the daytime and whispered his name to him, with taut touches in his hot dreams at night. His grip upon the rails tightened and his knuckles whitened, as his mind laughed at him. His mind froze and all he could do was offer her a nod in return.

"Uh… Doctor Zelenka…?" 

Radek turned to glare at the one who had distracted him away from her and dared to pull him back to his work.

"Yes! What is it?" Radek barked out.

"Um… This reading…? For the generators… Should they be fluctuating like that…?"

"Let me see…" He shifted to sit next to the technician. Looking to where Chuck was pointing at his laptop. Keen eyes watched the flickering numbers, frowning. Then he remembered why he was there. "Ah!" He spun in his chair and grabbed his own laptop, setting it next to Chucks. "Look. Here!" He pointed at his own screen, at the readings that he had been looking at, before he had been distracted by goings on down below, at the gate. "Look. It's just Doctor McKay. He's altering some settings there."

"Optimising things again?"

"Yes!" Radek growled out his reply, then shifted back to stare at his own laptop. Frowning at the fluctuating generator readings, watching them return to normal. Then shifting his attention back to flicking through reports from the samples taken from the two bodies they had cleared away from the lower corridors of Atlantis. He went back to trying to make sense of the nonsense and nothing that those reports had told him. But his mind drifted away from both duties.

Myško…

That word warmed him and curled around him, causing him to whine and whimper, while he attempted to work there. His mind was full of hazel smiles and his fingers were stilled by lightning flickering along their lengths. Too distracted to be able to finish his calculations. 

Something pulled at him. Something sharp, bright, it had him looking away from his screen. Movement. From the far corner of his periphery, off to the side of his laptop screen, from below. Movement caught his eye. 

Her…?

He straightened his spine from his usual shrimp-like posture and peered over the top of his laptop. His gaze latched on. Homing into her. Herding his senses. Watching her stand up and tidy up. A breath was sucked in. Heated. Hot. Enflamed, when she caught him and he her. Eyes widened when she caught him. Catching his wandering gaze, as she raised her head and took a quick peek up to where he whimpered at his lofty post.

His fingers froze, hovering above his keyboard, struck by lightning all over again. He froze, sat there, not breathing, trapped, held by her, caught by her, as he gazed at her over the top of his laptop's screen. She held him there, held his gaze for a count of one, two, three, before something made her glance away and down at her datapad. He puffed a breath out, as something forced her to leave him and scurry off and away. Leaving him to swear and growl under his breath, while he watched the little mouse hurry off to her next duty, while he was stuck at his. 

A snigger from his left, had him snarling at his keyboard and screen. Cursing himself for a fool. Feeling his face heat, while he smothered his soft smile. Replacing it with a hard, sharp glare at the technicians.

Although his sour glare did not last long. It softened to a small, hidden smile, while he worked. She had gone, but he was left with her presence lingering in his mind, as he wondered when he would see her again.

I wish that she didn't have to wander off by herself all the time. Not with a murderer lurking around Atlantis. There's only been two bodies so far. One of my engineers… and one from her team… Two bodies. Both young women like her. Both… dead…

-

He shook his head. Trying to shake away the tendrils of her smile, another smile to bank with the first one. Trying to shove away the sharp-tanged emotions that he knew were about to spark down upon him, as they always did this time of night. He turned to lie on his side. Ignoring what he knew lurked deep within him. What had curled and coiled around his insides. Brought to life by the heat of her touch and the spark of her smile. Something that he knew prowled deep inside him. Something that he had successfully pushed away and down since… 

A bright smile, a hot touch, a small mouse, had reawakened that beast that he swore was dead. Curse words. Loud. Sharp. Bitter. They flew around his quarters like crows sensing a kill. He cursed himself for a fool, for falling. For falling that way again.

Her touch. 

Her smile.

That touch, that smile! They'll lead me to a planet full of dust and nothings! It'll leave me alone in a dark, abandoned, empty place again! Her touch, my touch, our touch, it is not a film or a ridiculous soap opera! It will not lead him to some pretty place, where birds sing! It will not be a moment between the wars to last forever, like my grandmother told me about! 

He growled to himself and shook his head.

No! She will steal me away to somewhere awful! If I allow her! And I will not! I cannot! Such nonsense only lives in corny shows and films! That lightning, that fire, that promise that she handed me with her touch, her smile… No! I've been here before! It will not come true! It will just fizzle out to leave nothing but a memory of something that could have been! I'll be left here and… No! I need to stay away from her! I need to hide from her! Work! I need to concentrate on work! It's all there is for me!

The thought of it. The thought of what was going on. What had happened, there in front of the gate. Lightning! It had him cringing on his bed, it had him curling up in a ball, trying to force the lurking, prowling beast away. 

Yet it howled at him. It yowled and harkened him to join in.

Her touch. It had brought lightning. It had brought burning heat. It had brought freezing cold. It had brought back all of the feelings that he had when he had travelled through the gate that first time. Her touch. It had brought heat to his chest. Heat that had travelled up from where he had touched her and her him. 

Her touch. It was just an accidental thing. It could have been missed. It could have been passed by. Like a miss-typed gate symbol that sent the travellers through the gate into the heat of a desolate desert, instead of where they wished to go. 

No! I need to stay away! Duty! I need to ignore her touch, her smiles and concentrate on duty! I've too many things to do here! I can't do any of it if I'm lying here thinking of nonsense! No! I need to stay away!

He rose, doused his face in cold water, then dressed and headed off to his lab. He nibbled on a cereal bar, as he glared at his screen and what it told him.

The data, the DNA, the fingerprints, the locations of people at the approximate times of death that Carson had calculated. They all pointed towards one person being the main suspect. One person. 

Bitter curse words fell on the floor. Rattling there. Laughing, before dying. He knew that if anyone else saw this data, they'd see what he did. It wouldn't take his intellect to see who the data pointed its sharp finger at.

He closed the file down and stared at the blank screen. Wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, as he did so. The lab buzzed with blunt, crude Czech words.

Stupid! I've been so stupid!

-

"So… Zelenka, have you got anything for me yet?"

"Ah… Colonel Sheppard! Yes. And no."

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"That I've something. And nothing."

"Fuck!"

"My words exactly," Zelenka answered Sheppard's expletive.

"What did Carson say about, y'know, all of it?"

"The killing, the layout, this one is similar to the one before. But with differences. The main difference being that it's a different person who died. Which, I mean, goes without saying, as how could that be the same, unless they developed a time machine or resurrection machine, but the ancients are clever so—"

"You're rambling, Zelenka!"

"Sorry, sorry… Carson said that it was the same modus operandi. Well, to start off with. Death by a cut throat, for both women. But the second one…" He paused. "Frenzied…"

"Did he say whether he thinks it's the same person doing the killing then?"

"He said it's a good possibility. A 'maybe'? He said that the cuts were done in the same way. Same slash. Right handed. Ear-to-ear. But that the second was… deeper…"

"And all the analysis you're doing?"

"I got some fingerprints, some DNA off the scenes, to analyse. Neither woman… they were not assaulted… in that way… There's nothing from anyone… not accounted for…" He left that sentence dangling. Wondering if the Colonel would sense the bait and take it or not.

"Well… that's the nothing dealt with. You said you've got 'something' for me?"

The bait was ignored.

"Circumstantial evidence. It points at the same person committing both… that the same… murderer…" He paused over that last word. Not wanting to say it, to admit that such a one was here in the bright, light city he adored. "There is one suspect so far… that links both murders… There's someone who was proven to be in the corridors where both of the bodies were found… Finding them, or happening to be there just before they were found…"

"Who!"

Radek pointed at the screen. Pointing to the name of who the analysis had suggested.

"You?"

"Yes," Radek shrugged.

"Huh…"

"But I do have something else…" He shifted the blame, the train of thought away from the suspect.

"What else have you got, Zelenka?"

"The two women. They share the same build, hair colour, face shape…"

"A link!"

"Yes. But it's only two. Could be coincidence…" he shrugged. "It's too small a sample size, we need more… or not!" He hastily tagged that disclaimer at the end.

"Yea… I'd rather catch this son of a bitch before anyone else gets…" Again, there was a reluctance to admit to what was going on at the hands of another human here.

"Should I work up a list of similar looking women…?"

"Yes. But don't do anything with that. Not yet. Don't even tell Woolsey. Keep it all under your hat, well, your hair, I guess… We need to be careful how we go about this… Like you said, it could all just be coincidence… And don't go showing anyone that file with your name on it either! We don't want any lynchings going on, if that gets out! Oh and no leaving the city…"

"Yes, Colonel." Zelenka nodded and set the computer running. Going through the database of Atlantis staff. Wiping sweaty hands on his trousers. Breathing out, as Colonel Sheppard walked away. Waiting until his footsteps had faded away, before he grabbed up a datapad and a scanner and took himself out and away. His steps halted in the doorway though. He hurried back to his lab and to the locked drawer. He took the knife out and glared at it.

"Já se už na to můžu vysrat! Do prdele! Kurva! Kurva! Kurva!" 

His sharp-toothed swears flapped around the lab. This one was fatter and heavier than all of the others that he had spat out that night. It plopped to the floor, under its heavy weight, before scuttling off into a dark corner, where all the others hissed out from. The knife was shoved it and its sheath in his belt, then spun and retraced his steps out of his empty, dark lab.

He took a transporter down to the lower corridors, breathing out, as he stepped out into the quiet. Smiling, as he breathed in the calm quietness. A place where he could concentrate and be free and do his work without interruptions. He tapped at his datapad, as he trod, typing in readings from the beeping instrument he held. Frowning at the numbers that he saw, knowing what they meant. 

Kurva! Idiota! Rodney's messed with the conduits again and I'll have to redo all my calculations and…

His work and his thoughts were both paused, when he heard footsteps and saw the white lights flicker around him. Throwing shadows around the corridor. Transforming his own shadow into that of some sort of heinous beast from the margins of a medieval manuscript.

"Hello…?"

The footsteps hastened and drew closer. His datapad was shouldered by the strap of its bag.

"Who's there…?"

Zelenka swung his head towards where someone approached. Squinting his eyes, taking up a stance that he had been taught from his youth. Nerves made him hold the scanner as a makeshift weapon in his right hand. Ignoring the small knife that was strapped to his belt, hanging at his right. Not wanting to go near a gun, that knife was the only concession that he would allow himself to use, as protection, when working down here, in the deep, dark corridors of the bowels of Atlantis.

"Doctor Zelenka?"

The shadows merged and transformed into the body of a marine. One that he recognised. One who pulled a frown from him. "Yes! What are you doing down here!"

"Patrols. By order of Colonel Sheppard. I might ask the same of you, Doc?"

"I'm working here! The city does not keep itself running like clockwork all by itself, Private Cooper!"

"But I thought it had done just that, for like… thousands of years, before we arrived…? Or were they wrong in the debriefing we had…?"

"That was before the Wraith, the replicants, the Genii and our little space flight!" He gritted his teeth at the memory of the space walk that he had to do back then. His right calf clenched, a muscle that still pained him every now and then, from the wound there. "Now if you would just… I'm busy here!"

"Is she yours?"

"What!"

"Y'know… the way you were ordering us…? If I'd known that she was taken, by anyone, including you, then—"

"That is my business and hers and no-one else's!" he snapped out. "You should not have been speaking like that about her!" he barked, growling out his words. 

"Okay! Okay! Jeez! I guess that's a yes then! I'll leave you to your… whatever it is you're doing then, Doc…"

Zelenka watched the young marine walk away. Narrowing his eyes. Watching his shadow merge and blend into the darkness. The fingers of his right hand shifted and drifted to his belt, touching the cold, black hilt.

Chapter Text

She flinched. Snatching her hand away from the cold of an unbidden touch. Un-asked for. Unwanted. Her supervisor touched her hand and she was left wanting to wash them and to step away from the grinning man who towered above her. He had done it a few times. On her first day too. Just as he had. She stepped back and away from that unwanted touch and its unasked for attention. 

A hot blush crept up her face. Thinking of him. Her protector. Trying to distract, to stop from screaming, from shouting, from causing a scene. She wished that her body hadn't done that, hadn't reacted to her defensive thoughts, while another stood too close to her. One that she didn't want there. She was pulled out of her distraction, her dilemma, by a cold chuckle and another icy touch, that had her snatching herself back once more. 

A huff met that action of hers. A huff and a growled-out command. 

"You've your jobs for the day! Get about it then. No dallying! Or you'll go on report! Again!"

She tried not to smile though, at how her supervisor stepped away too. Trying not to gain any more unwanted attention. Instead, she grabbed the granted chance. There was no hesitation in her there, at that release. She nodded and scurried off, more haste, all speed, to act upon his order.

As she hurried off to the first to jet in her queue, she pondered upon what had just happened. Thinking of how her supervisor's cold touch had grabbed at her and had pulled at her. Taking. Not asking. At how she had snatched herself away from him, saying nothing. Not daring to. Doing nothing in return. Not daring to do that either. Nodding at his sharp orders. Waiting for his dismissal, then scurrying away and out of his office, running off to the safety of her first job of the day.

As she hurried away, her thoughts fled from his cold, harsh, unwanted touch and ran, headlong towards the warmth of another's wanted, yet seemingly unattainable touch. A touch only felt that one time and never since. A touch that had her wishing and hoping and dreaming and sweating and blushing. Even though it was long gone.

Why were those touches so different? Why did one touch repulse me? And the other not? Why do I want to flee from one? And run towards the other? Why do I want less of one, and more of the other? Him… His touch… It was unbidden and unasked for too… But… I would have it again and again!

She wiggled the fingers of her right hand. Remembering the feel of his larger fingers. Recalling how his touch was accompanied by a lightning flash. Heated. Burning. Bright. How it was followed by a whispered warmth that was laid upon her hand, her fingers. The ones that she wiggled.

Why am I given the touch that I don't want, over and over again. But the one that I do want, I'm denied!

She clenched her right hand into a fist and shook her head. Trying to forget him. Failing. Falling. Answering the gentle question that his touch had asked of her. One that she had accepted and answered, by offering her own tentative touch in return. Unsure of rejection. Uncertainty had lanced through her shaking hand and nerves. A smiled acceptance, mirroring her relief was her answer there, from him. And that touch, their touch and their gazes had remained joined for a few brief seconds that felt like glacial aeons.

A giggle fell from her, as she pushed her trolley. The blush grew hotter. She lowered her head, her face, trying to hide her unbidden smile. 

Her smile vanished though, as his gentle touch was overlain by another that was harsh. One that grabbed and stabbed, without asking for her permission.

I know two other of my fellow workers who have reported him for such touches. I heard them shouting, denouncing him in the office. We all did! But they both vanished not long after… Sent back to Earth, most likely… I don't want to go back, not yet, not until… I need to just stay away from him, that awful man, I just need to keep my distance and my job here!

Her supervisor had smiled at her too.  A smile that was laced with sharp-shown teeth and eyes that asked, eyes that did not smile, but were dark. 

Him… His smile was warm and comfortable and gave everything with the bright white of his teeth and the crinkles at the corners of his shining eyes…

Her supervisor was what would be called classically good looking, tall, clean cut, broad shoulders, short hair, neat and tidy, groomed - military looking. His touch, his smile had done nothing except raised the hackles on the back of her neck. That touch told her to snatch herself away and to run as far and as fast as she could to get away from him. 

Him… He is short, sloping shoulders, scruffy, fluffy, long-haired, bespectacled… He's a scientist through and through! His smile though… It lights everything up…

Another giggle fell from her smiling lips as she remembered how his touch, his smile, in the gate room, in that big hall that was so crowded, yet it felt like just they two, had raised the hairs on the back of her neck too, but for completely different reasons. His smile told her to stay and to keep her hand joined with his and keep her company with his too. 

Two different smiles. 

Two different touches. 

Two different reactions. 

Two different men. 

One touch and its accompanying smile and meeting was yearned for, begged for. But it was so scarce. A one-off. Never repeated since that day of her arrival.

One touch and smile and meeting was not wanted. But was received every day, every morning, since her arrival. Handed to her, unbidden, when having their assignments and datapads dished out. Handed out like today, when a reprimand was issued to her. 

-

The strokings of her mop were sloppy, messy, spreading more water than they soaked up.

I can't. I mustn't. I shouldn't think of him. Of his broad shoulders that told me of his strength. Of his blue eyes that shone when he smiled and lit my whole world up. Of the small tuft of hair at the top of his shirt. Oh god, his hair. The way it floats around his face, bouncing when he walks, making me want to teach out and touch it as I know it'll be so soft. His hands. Oh god, his hands. Delicate but large. The hairs there, oh god, more hairs to touch and stroke and. Fuck fuck fuck! 

She jumped out of the way of her spilled bucket.  Righting it. Trying to mop the contents back in, before anyone noticed. 

High pitched titters and deeper laughter announced that others had seen her error. She made herself as small as possible and hurried her task and herself away from the cleaned space and the mess of her dignity and shame and embarrassed that she left in its place.

A quiet spot was sought out. A chair in an empty corridor. A space in a corridor off of the main one from the busy mess hall. She settled in a soft chair there, where the walls were a bright bronze and held a verdigris patina. Away from the mess and the laughter that had nipped at her heels. Away from the bright, multicoloured, stained glass windows of those brighter places. With dropping plants that climbed and hung around her, as her silent companions. Her datapad was grabbed up and perched on the chair. The datapad balanced on her knees, as she typed out her report on that last work ticket. 

Finding herself drifting off while typing. Frowning down at how there was a full paragraph of just one word typed out over and over again.

'radekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradek'radekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradekradek'radekradekradekradekradekradekradekradek'radekradekradekradekradekradekradekradek'radekradekradekradek'

That ridiculous paragraph laughed back up at her. She glared at the screen, gritting her teeth, glad that she had noted and corrected that, before marking that ticket as 'Completed'. It was deleted and re-written and sent off to her supervisor. Her face heated at the thought of what would have happened if she hadn't done that check before sending. Feeling stupid, feeling silly, feeling like a schoolgirl, a teenager scribbling the name of her crush on her pencil case and in her diary. Scratching it a name, surrounded by a love-heart that was pierced by an arrow. 

Her and him. It was an affair from afar. Not even that. A nothing from nowhere. Unconsummated. Unadorned by the object of her lonely affection. He was too busy. As was she. He was too important. She was too lowly. He was too lovely. She considered herself to not be. Not with her hands callused by years of being submerged in hot water and various harsh chemicals. Chemicals that were the only piece of science that she had in this, her current work. 

She could list off all the chemicals needed to remove blood, other bodily fluids, grease, oil, dust, dirt. Show her any sort of stain, and she knew what to use and how to use it. It was a skill that she was proud of, even though not many others were. Her previous employer had been a private company who cleaned up after crime scenes. That job had shown her the bloody, scarred and twisted underbelly of humankind. It had become too much for her, so when this posting came up, she jumped at the chance. Even though now, the same horrid human tendencies had followed her here, to what should have been her escape from that world.

I've heard nothing at all, nothing from anyone… nothing about those two bodies that I know were there! I know what went on, but who do I tell? I'd rather not speak to my supervisor…

She shivered at that thought.

But who else do I speak to?

She shook her head, ignoring the conundrum. Allowing her mind to be distracted by a certain scientist and his bright, blue eyes and his soft hair and his deep voice and his sweet dimples and his infectious smile and his everything, while she sighed where she sat and ignored her datapad. 

She sighed, while stroking the fingers of her right hand, trying to recall the bright spark that had lit her insides, as she stood in the gate hall. Remembering the bewildering intensity. The jolt of that unknown emotion. The sudden rush of excitement that flowed from their joined gaze and his touch. The overwhelming desire to know the person who had smiled that bright smile at her better pushed her onwards and into taking in as much of his ticks and traits that she could.

He's… everything. If only I can…

The light dimmed, as she sat there. The spark stuttered, its intensity was capped, the jolt was gone, the rush vanished and ran from her, even as she reached out her hands, her fingers towards it. His smile faded, blue eyes turned from her. He walked away.

No… He's… nothing. Infatuation, it's nothing more than that… It can't be anything more than that…?

Sirens blared and alarms of past relationships begged her to ignore everything. To ignore all touches and smiles whether they were wanted or not. Deafening sirens and alarms told her to stay away, to keep away, to not act upon her feelings. Blinding fear kept her chained two tables away from him and told her not to move any closer.

Her datapad beeped and made her jump. Forcing her to scramble to grab it, to prevent it from falling and smashing. A new ticket, a new job, called to her. 

She stood and pushed her trolley. Trying to keep her mind clear of anything. But a smile, a touch, they had her blushing and smiling, as she walked.

-

A new day brought a new ticking off. A reprimand for yesterday's tasks taking longer than they should have, according to her blunt supervisor. Tasks that were delayed by her mashed up, messed up mind being too full of Radek Zelenka and his blue eyes and his smile and his fingers brushing against hers that one time. That one touch that made lightning shoot up her arm and stunned her and blinded her and took her and made her forget everything and everyone but one thing. Him. 

"Sorry, sir. I'll do better today. I will."

A huff met her words, as she kept her eyes down and away from him, her hands clasped behind her back. His desk was a bastion between where he sat and where she stood. 

"I've just sent you a ticket. It's come from the top! I was told to deal with it myself, but you can do that for me, can't you?"

She nodded.

"Good. Deal with it quickly and quietly and I'll not put your name on the list of those to be sent back to Earth, for not being up to scratch!"

She gave him no choice, no chance. "Yes, sir! I'll go now. Thank you!" She turned and fled, as soon as she saw him standing and moving. Running to the safety of a room full of deadly chemicals, not even waiting to look at her datapad. Running. Fleeing, before he could touch her again.

-

Again! Another!

She stood in the dark corridor that smelled of damp and mould and had her shaking and looking for death in the shadows of the flickering not-quite-white lights that failed to brighten things up as they should do. Standing at the place where the work ticket had sent her. Frowning, hands fussing and twisting around her small UV torch that she held, nibbling her bottom lip, as she stared down at what the clean, dirty space told her.

A third one. A repeat of the second with the same wider splatter of blood, compared to the first. But it's different too… More… violent… 

The splatterings, that were revealed by her small UV light, were widespread. Of a much, much wider spread than the two similar instances that her work tickets had led her to before. They were spread all along the width of the corridor and up both of the walls that flanked it. 

Something frenzied has gone on here… Something awful… It looks like… like an animal has ripped something apart… Does this planet have any big predators? Is that what's going on here? Is some big beast devouring people and that's why there's no bodies, just the mess afterwards? Is that why there's been no announcements? It's not a murderer on the loose, but an animal? A beast? Something that no-one wants us to know about, so as we don't panic?

A noise from behind her, a dark clunk and a bright tinkle, had her gasping and swearing at the UV torch that fell from her shaking hands and clattered to the floor. Bouncing away from her, hiding any other sounds with its own operetta, as it bounced away.

"No! Come back! Stupid light!"

Her fingers scrambled and scrabbled to pick the torch up. The blue light lit up as she tried to pick it up and it showed her more blood, more gore, all where she was kneeling down.

"Oh no…"

So much blood… Arterial spray…? It could be caused by a cut, by a knife wound, or by the swipe of sharp claws. You are always told to look higher and wider, when cleaning up after that sort of incident, so as not to miss anything. We were taught to look even higher and even wider, so as not to miss anything. The person doing the slapdash cleaning has obviously skipped those lectures! But here I am, kneeling in the midst of it all!

She allowed the UV light to wander and sucked a breath in at how much it illuminated. Grimacing at just how much the initial cleaner had missed and how wide the blood patterns were. 

Something very bad happened here. 

"This is bad… Very bad…"

Shaking hands sprayed her chosen chemical at where the UV light told her that it needed to go. A quick swipe, halfhearted, mimicking the original cleaner, had her finishing that job in the quickest time ever.

"At least my supervisor will be pleased, even if it's as much of a half-hearted job as the original one…" she muttered, as she finished up and stood, pushing her hair out of her eyes with her forearm. Tutting at how, even though she had tried not to, she had yet again, smeared some of the sharp-tanged bleach onto her forehead and into her hair. Her gloves were pulled off and she washed the chemicals from her head and hair with a few pumps of distilled water.

Another noise from behind her had her gasping again. A huffing, puffing noise. Footsteps trod towards her from that same direction.

Shaking hands placed all of her chemicals back in her trolley and she ran. Obeying instincts that told her to run, to leave, to flee as fast as she could. She ran. Forgetting the job, seeking safety and sanctuary. Needing to flee from that awful place. Needing to run from the hidden murderer or monster, that lurked those dark, dank, damp corridors. Needing to leave that place where she knew that only a burning rage, or lust, or hunger, had produced such patterns. She ran from that corridor that was stalked by someone or something and haunted by some poor soul, who had died in such a terrible, awful way. Whimpers fell from her quivering lips, as she scurried back to the nearest transporter, all while the hairs upon the back of her neck stood on end and she felt the cold sweat of fear drench her spine. Fear that someone was watching her, chasing her, about to catch her. Gasps and pants fell from her, as stumbled into the safety of the empty transporter and smacked the screen. Allowing instinct to choose where she should go. Allowing it to take her up to the light, to people, to safety. Choosing the brightest of locations, the brightest of spaces, the brightest of memories, as her final destination.

She exited next to the gate room. Staring up at the control area. Wishing for the comfort of someone familiar, to reassure her that she was safe. Checking. Hoping. Finding a distinctive head of fluffy hair. Waiting. Watching. Seeing his head move and raise up and then she was enmeshed in the gaze from the bluest of blue eyes, as they peered down at her. She held his gaze, counting. One, two, three… Breathing in the clean, clear humanity of his smile. Allowing it to push the fogged fear of death away. Allowing herself to calm, to breathe. Pulling his comfort deep inside her, as if he held her, as if she had his lightning touch hugging her. She tried to smile, but the scene that she had just left, that she had just fled from, the fear of it, it trampled upon her smile and diluted her joy, it doused the lingering lightning. Blanketing and smothering the tingled touch of seeing him again.

She saw him stand.

Oh no! I'm a mess, my hair has chemicals in it, I'm a sweaty, sodden wreck! I can't, he can't, oh god, I need to go! He'll not want to see me in this state! I'll scare him off! 

She shook her head. She turned her trolley and ran, fleeing away from him and herself. 

That quiet spot in the secluded corridor was sought out again. A space with few people. A space away from the distraction of the touch, that smile.

I need to sit. To breathe, to calm myself…

She sat. Breathing. Stretching the shaking fingers of her quaking hands. Stepping down. Coming down and away from the desperation of that darkest of scenes. 

Her datapad was taken out of her trolley and she scrolled to the ticket. Nibbling at her bottom lip, debating, as her finger hovered over the keyboard. She licked her lips, debating on whether to follow protocol here, or whether to break with it and add what her previous job had taught her. That this last work ticket had been the place of an awful, terrible, horrible murder. She considered her options, before she pressed the final save. Wondering if she needed to add some photos and mention what she knew. But she shook her head. 

No point. If someone's taken the time to move the body and make a first attempt on cleaning, then they know all about this… don't they? 

She pressed save. But her fingers hovered once more. All reports went to her supervisor by default. But she had the power to add recipients, if she thought it needed to be seen by someone higher up too. 

Do I send this on up? Do I mention the things and speak up? Do I need to do that? Maybe I can do a compromise and attach a note to my supervisor, asking him to look and see if it needs to go on up? No. I want to stay here. I need to stay here, not just for the money, or the work, but for something else now too.

Him…

She pressed send and checked her work queue. Picking the most urgent work ticket. Reading it. Placing her datapad back on her trolley, before she scurried away.

Chapter Text

He felt prickling along his arms and the back of his neck, as happened whenever he saw her. 

Goosed bumps! That's what McKay called it, I think? What do they mean though?

He ran a finger along the hairs on his arm. Turning his head away from the laptop screen. 

Movement. 

Down below. It caught his eye, as his field of vision altered. 

Movement. 

Below where he sat and perched, up in his lofty eyrie, high above the gate room. 

Movement. 

He lifted his head up from his laptop and peered down. Recognising her. Allowing a smile to form on his face. His smile lessened though, when she didn't return the like to him. 

Why is she not smiling? What is this? 

He peered down at her. Seeing Hazel eyes widen and stare up at him. She held him there for a breath, in and out and in again.

She looks… dishevelled… shaking… afraid…? What is going on…? Has something happened…?

He stood. But stilled, as he saw her shake her head. He froze, open mouthed, watching, as she turned her trolley around and fled from him. A step was taken towards the stairs. 

I should go! I need to follow her and find out what—

His thoughts were cut off by a call to duty.

"Zelenka, have you finished inputting those new settings?"

"No. I need to go and—"

"What! This needs fixing! I can't finalise these new optimisations for our long-range sensors without those settings!"

"I…" She had vanished from him, going off and away to what could be anywhere in this big city. Running off to where he couldn't follow. Radek signed and plopped back down in front of his laptop. "Wait…" He tapped away at the keyboard. "I'm almost done."

"I'm waiting on you, here!"

Mumbled, muttered words flew around Radek's frowned face, as his fingers hit his keyboard. 

Kurva! Idiota! I had a chance, now it's gone, she's gone! 

"Are you done yet?"

"Almost, Rodney!"

A sigh from his left, had Radek adding more mumbled curses to play with the previous ones.

"There! All done!"

"Good! Now, let me… It's not working! No! This setting is off! Look! This here, your calculation must be off!"

"Where!"

"There, look!"

"Ah, yes, wait…" New digits were input. The correct ones. "There! Try again…"

A tap on the 'Enter' key and a smiling chief scientist and a frowning chief engineer gazed at the large screen that ran their new program. 

"Now we need to adjust the ZPM settings and the crystals that control the sensors need to be tweaked to take account for these new settings… You do the latter, you're the engineer, after all and I'll meet you back up here in… oh… an hour?"

"Yes, Rodney…" he sighed and grabbed up his laptop, slamming it shut, heading down the stairs and off in the opposite direction that she had vanished.

-

Back in his quarters, lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, Radek found his mind drifting. A five hour stint of checking and testing and altering then checking and testing some more, then repeating that routine several times, should have had him falling into bed, dead on his feet, fast asleep. But his mind was racing, running, raving. Not with work, as it should be doing, as it usually did.

No smile. A fearful face instead, as she turned and ran from him. That remembrance had him frowning up at the ceiling of his personal space. 

What had happened? Is she… has someone done something? Has someone said something? Is she hurt? Was it something I did? Did someone say something to her? Cooper! I should not have said anything to him when he asked me about her!

"Kurva!"

I should have ignored Rodney and followed after her! 

He sat up, preparing to go and seek her out. Pulling on his shoes.

"Kurva!"

Shoes were kicked off, then he lay back down again, as he realised that he didn't know where her quarters were.

And even if I did, what could I do? Except make things worse, at this late hour of night. 

"Kurva!"

His thoughts stumbled elsewhere, concentrating on previous encounters. Questioning himself and his sanity, as he ran around the dark corridors of his mind.

Those inputs today, the calculations… Childsplay! I should have been able to calculate them and programme them in, in my sleep, if I could sleep!

He huffed and fisted his hands.

A distraction! It's too much! I find myself smiling when I'm thinking about her and not work! Why is that! Why is it that I'm thinking of her… and not work! Why does my work fall apart, when I think of her smiling at me. 

Another huff and he folded his arms.

Maybe it's all for the best, if she's not interested in me anymore… I know what that nonsense leads to. If that person returns that feeling, then… There's nothing like it. Nothing as good when you're there, in that pull. And nothing as bad, if they don't feel the same. And I know what it feels like when they don't… So… I've had a lucky escape!

He glared up at the ceiling, then turned away to stare at the clock.

"Two in the morning! Kurva!"

Why do I sweat when I see her, when she smiles at me? When she touched me! Ježiši! 

He felt his face heat.

Why am I bothered when she doesn't want me…?

Again, he sat up on his bed. He ran his fingers along his right hand, where they had touched.

I just want to… What do I want? What do I do? Do I confront her? What do I say though? I'll probably just end up smiling like an idiota and stumbling over things that I don't know how to say. I'd probably make a fool of myself and have to run! Just like she did! I… She'll run, like she did today, if I find her and blurt out my feelings for her, to her. Even though I don't know what they are, or how to go about saying that! I'm a lemming running towards the cliff edge… 

He shook his head and cursed himself, lying back down, fisting his hands at his side.

I need to concentrate! I'm losing all sense of anything! Sat in the lab, not hearing Rodney, not that that's not a bad thing… But when I've been sat there, not doing anything but staring and thinking and probably with a stupid, idiota, smile on my face for hours! Wasting time, when I don't even have ten minutes to spare to eat or sleep! Why can't I just get her out of my head? She shook hers! She refused me!

"Kurva! Kurva!"

I could… I have access to the staff databases, to do with the… the deaths… I could find out where her quarters are from there! I could ask her what's wrong, why she said no to me!

Again he sat up.

"Idiota! What good would that do! She ran from me! I have my answer! No!"

He lay back down and squeezed his eyes closed. But opened them again, allowing a soft sigh to plop out of his mouth and to join him on his messy bed.

Why do I look out for her every time I'm in the mess hall, or walking corridors? Wanting to meet her again and again? 

He frowned up at the ceiling. Glaring at it. A huff fell from him. It snapped and barked and the soppy sigh, chasing it away.

She's so… I know others see what I do, that they find her so too… She will be stolen from me soon enough, if I don't do something… That soldier… He saw what I do!

His fingers tightened around an imaginary knife.

But then… she shook her head at me, so she's gone already and maybe that's for the best? So I don't have to make an idiota out of myself. But seeing her with someone else… 

"No!" he growled out, baring his teeth. "This is absurd! I need to sleep!" He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But his mind grabbed his hand and tugged him away and back to absurdity. 

I don't even know enough about her to know how she takes her coffee! Or if she even likes coffee!

He huffed again, cursing himself. Several harsh, sharp curses ran around his bed now. Snapping and snarling at each other. Fighting and growling.

Why is it that the rest of the world, apart from her, cease to exist… I see no-one else in the room, except for her, because nothing and no-one else matters. Me? Who spent his whole life, who gave everything up, to do what I do here! And now, I'm making stupid mistakes, like today, I'm putting everything at risk, because of this nonsense! Daydreaming about her and me and us and making housey housey, happy families with her! I need to stop! She shook her head! 

"Stupid! So stupid! Idiota!"

I want to know more! I need to know! Not where her quarters are, no, that's too dangerous! No… I want to learn who she is, what she does, her likes and dislikes, and more… Everything! I need to know everything! But why! She said no! She shook her head and ran from me!

"Kurva!" He spat that word out. Vemon. Deadly. Disastrous. It slid along his bed and ate all the other curses whole.

It feels as though I’ve met her before, I've the strangest feeling that I know her from somewhere before? If so, I should be comfortable around her, shouldn't I? But as soon as I see her, I feel so stupid and helpless, nervous, and sweaty. Something else kicks in when she is nearby and I cannot do anything but just look at her from afar! I can't… I'll just… Can she sense my awkwardness? Can she see how much she makes me sweat? Is that why she shook her head and refused me?

He sighed, remembering her wide eyes, her shaken head. Telling him no. Remembering her smile, hot touch, her voice in the gate hall. Telling him yes.

What's changed? What's wrong? I thought… I thought there was something… Some mutual attraction… Some first sight thing…

He stared at the fingers of his right hand. Flexing them. Feeling the residue of that spark, that lightning there, tingling his senses.

No. No! That's nonsense! No… It's a non-scientific nonsense! It's merely infatuation. Maybe? 

He glared at how the hairs on his arms stood to attention and did not follow his order to lay down.

Not… No… No! It was just one touch and a few smiles! One stupid touch! It's nothing! And more than nothing now! She saw me and she ran from me!

He ran his fingers over the hairs on his arm. 

What do I do to stop all of this? Do I take things forward? Do I seek her out? Do I ask her why she shook her head? Do I fall into her orbit and succumb? Do I make an idiota of myself? Do I run, like she did?

"Kurva! Kurva! No!" A longer, sharp-toothed curse slunk along his bed, hissing at everything else.

No! No! I should stay away, she clearly said no! This is so confusing! I need to stay away! I need to think of work! Only work! She said no! It's done! Over!

The twelve times table was picked. He ran up it then down, then up again. Then his mind grabbed hold of him and the numbers fell away and he was struck by lightning again.

No… I wasn't looking for this! I've enough to deal with! I do not even know what this is! I'm not… I'm no Captain Kirk, like how Rodney calls Colonel Sheppard! With his alien women and his charm and surety! I am not that! Not at all! 

A huff fell from him. It sat on his bed with folded arms, glaring back at him.

Why… Why does she keep drawing me away, bringing her to my attention…? I don't know what to do… 

He shook his head. Like a dog trying to dry itself and free himself of the tiny droplets of her small smiles.

I can’t get her out of my head! She's made it into my mind and will not leave my thoughts be! Am I doomed to be stuck like this permanently now? Unless…? Unless what?

He huffed at himself. At the unanswerable question. Another folded armed urchin sat at his feet. This one laughed at him though.

She gave me a smile. Then another and… That one touch… Is that enough? Is it too much? We are… we are… a binary star system! Circling each other but never meeting! Does that mean that she returns the same ridiculous feelings that I'm feeling? Yes...? She smiled at my smile… She touched my touch… Is this a shared… whatever it is? No! She shook her head! Myško… No! Kočičko… No! She is the cat that got into our pigeon loft and caught one of our birds! She torments me, as that cat terrorised them! That cat caught one but did not kill it! I had to! I had to…I need to put these ridiculous feelings down, like I had to with my poor bird!

His stomach twisted at that thought. 

No… she shook her head and told me no… She turned and left… No!

"Kurva…"

Coffee! I can't sleep because I had too much caffeine! I might not know how she likes her coffee, or if she even does, but I like it probably too much! That is all that this is! There's nothing more going on here than caffeine and hunger! I need to refill my desk here and in the lab too, with cereal bars! That's all this is, nothing else. Nothing but overtiredness, caffeine and hunger! There's nothing else here. No. No… 

"No!"

That last, shouted out word, scattered all of the curses and huffs off of his bed. Setting them to whimpering and running and hiding in the shadows and under his bed, as he got dressed and took himself off to his lab.

-

"Zelenka! You look—"

"Do not, Rodney! Just, do not!"

"My, my, someone got out the wrong side of their bed this morning! Wait, did you even go to bed? I mean, you were still here when I left last night, or this morning was it?" McKay frowned.

"I did go. Just after you. But I couldn't sleep."

"Ah. Snap! I had numbers running around my head all night too!"

Radek grunted and took another sip of his black coffee. Running his tongue over his teeth, feeling how the seven sugars in his coffee had fuzzed the enamel.

"So… Are you ready to get going?"

"Yes…" Radek stifled a yawn and downed more coffee.

"Or maybe, no?"

Radek ignored Rodey. Tapping away at his datapad. Allowing the morning to pass by in a caffeine fuelled blur. Being dragged to the mess hall by McKay. Sitting there. Shovelling the awful food in, while peering around him. Looking two tables away from their usual spot. But not seeing her. 

Then he traipsed back to the lab, trudging after a far too enthusiastic Rodney McKay. Working and working and working. And trying to ignore the lightning bolt that bit him on the finger. Trying to ignore the shake of her head that stabbed at him. 

"Are you done there, Zelenka?"

"Hmmm…?"

"Are you done, with those calculations?"

"I'm…" He shifted his head up from where it was leaning on one of his hands, his other forefinger tap, tap, tapping out a steady rhythm on his keyboard. He blinked, then gaped at the screen. Seeing it full of cat emojis. 

Kurva!

Hasty fingers hit the delete button, just in time, before McKay came over.

"Oh, you've not even started yet!"

"I'm just… It's a second run. Look. I've got everything drafted out already…" He rubbed sweaty palms on his trousers while he cursed himself for being a fool, for falling for something as stupid as a few smiles, a touch, a pretty face. 

"Ah. Well… Send them over, when you're ready…"

"Yes…" He praised himself for that draft he had, whilst also berating himself for not keeping his head down, for not keeping his mind on his work. For not being an egghead, a nerd. For stepping a toe out of line and out of the academia that he had revelled in since he was a child. An education that he had used and clung to, to pull himself out of poverty and all the way up to a future which would have been at Maastricht University, before Atlantis came calling his name. And after Atlantis, he had his whole future mapped out. One that trod him back to academia and lecturing and teaching what he knew to the future generations. Her touch, those smiles, that shake of her head offered him nothing. They offered no future, they only offered a distraction. One that now gnawed at him, when he should be working. 

The same distraction chewed at him, as he lay in his quarters that night. Alone. Alone but for her touch and her smiles and her hazel eyes, that gifted him something he had read about but never felt before.

Nonsense! Nonsense! 

He lay in his bed and shook his head, as she did at him. Trying to rid himself of her, even as he touched his fingers where she had, even as he felt the corners of his mouth rise up, as he recalled her smiles, even as he felt the lightning squeeze his heart and cause it to jump in his chest.

Nonsense… She shook her head! She refused me!

Overtiredness dragged him off to sleep. A sleep full of smiles and touches and a future that was popped by one shake of her head.

-

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

He gasped and sat up, as his alarm woke him. He peered to his side. He was alone in bed. 

A dream. It was just a dream… 

A dream of a bed. This one maybe? But he was not alone. He was tangled around another.

"Kurva!"

He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, running his shaking hands through his long, sweat-soaked hair. Cursing himself for a fool, over and over again.

His sodden clothes were pulled off and flung to the floor, landing with a sploot, as he strode towards his shower. Washing sweat and dreams from his skin. 

Dressed, he left his quarters, picked up breakfast to go from the mess hall and headed to the lab. Immersing himself in the cool, comfort of numbers. 

"Zelenka! You're early again! What's wrong, do you need extra time for that simple simulation that I would have—"

"Your words do not hurt me, Rodney, so you may as well halt them." Radek tapped at his keyboard, smiling to himself, not looking up, as the numbers danced to his tune. He blocked out Rodney's teasings and all thoughts of her and her smile and her touch. Allowing himself to do what he did best. Flowing his consciousness around the data. Dancing with the numbers and calculations that had been his life, since those early days in Prague. The numbers danced so beautifully for him as did he, for them. 

He held his breath as he hit 'Enter' on his keyboard and set the simulation running. His frown turned into a smile, as the dance was ordered and worked just as he wished it to. His smile widened as the simulation completed and to his exact expectations. 

Success! 

The data was copied to his datapad and he headed out and away, because his grumbling, rumbling stomach told him that it was lunchtime. 

"Wait, Zelenka! Are you going to the mess hall?"

"I am, Rodney. I need a coffee."

"Another?"

A huff. Radek didn't wait, but continued to stride away.

"Wait for me!"

Radek halted. Smirking at McKay, as the younger man trotted to catch up with him.

Ha! Makes a change, I suppose.

A buzz on his headset and a call of his name, had Radek halting his steps though. 

"What now, Zelenka?" Rodney huffed out.

"Got to go! Call from Colonel Sheppard!"

"Oh! He called you and not me? That's odd… Do you need me to come with…?"

"He wants me to meet him in one of the low level corridors. In the dark and damp… mould… and space rats…" He knew that McKay didn't like any of those things.

"Ah… No… It's all yours…"

-

"Sorry I took so long to get here, Colonel Sheppard."

"That's okay, get your camera ready, because this one's a doozy!"

"Oh no… same as last time? Another poor woman?"

"Nope! This here is, or was, Private Cooper, or what's left of him. Someone did not like him, judging by the godawful mess they made of him!"

"Ježiši!" Zelenka gagged, as he stared down at the corpse. A corpse that he recognised. Recognition, as well as shock, widened his eyes, as he took in the sight before him. 

"It was some angry son of a bitch that did this…"

Zelenka nodded at Sheppard's assessment, while staring at the bloody scene before him.

"I hope you're not squeamish, Zelenka?"

"Um… No… Why…?"

"He's had his tongue out. And his… manhood… that's been cut off, as well as other things!"

Zelenka swallowed and took a breath, as gaped at the bloody, awful corpse. One that looked back with dark spaces where its eyes should be. Its arms ended in blunt stubs, no hands. And its mouth was open, blackened, scream. 

"Cut…?" 

"Over there…"

Zelenka followed the Colonel's gesture and swallowed, when he saw a piled up heap of what looked like the leavings from a butcher's counter. A foetid, glistening, gory pile. 

"Now I'm no expert in this sort of thing, I'm no egghead Doctor like you, Zelenka, but is it just me, or does this kinda look… different? I mean, not just the, you know…" he paused to wave his hands in the direction of the severed pile of body parts, where not just the dead man's manhood lay, but also his tongue, his gouged out eyes and his cut off hands. "… the cutting… But there's less blood than the other two, when there should be more, is what I'm getting at?" Sheppard frowned and scratched his chin.

"Hmmmm… Maybe he was moved? Maybe this isn't where he was… killed… and… dismembered?" Zelenka shifted away from that subject and around the scene, while he speculated. Wanting to cross his legs and place his hands over his crotch, as he photographed the severed remains of the soldier's genitalia and where they had been, where they should still be, on his bloody body.

Kurva!

Zelenka clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to stop them from shaking, while he attempted to document everything. Trying to take photos that weren't blurred by various emotions that swirled around his head. 

"Also… the way this cut on his neck is… There was anger here. Rage… To slash this poor bastard's throat down to the bone. That's a hell of a lot of pressure there, don't you think, Zelenka?"

"Mmmm… Is Carson not on his way?" A mumbled agreement, as Zelenka swallowed bile back down.

"Oh yea, he's been delayed off-world, so it's just you and me for now. I mean, Private Cooper he is… was… a large man, he'd certainly not have been able to have been overpowered by someone as slight and slender… Surely this was done by—"

"A man…?" Zelenka finished Sheppard's statement off for him.

"Hmmm… Maybe… But then Teyla… she's petite… shorter than you… and I've seen her knock big, grown men like Ronon and me to the ground with little effort… So…?"

Zelenka nodded, gagging, as he leaned closer to the corpse, taking swabs and samples.

This is all… Kurva! What a mess!