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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!

Chapter Text

Since that third similar, but worse, place, that third similar, but worse, job, sleep had been difficult for her. It came quickly to her, but it dragged her under too fast. Dumping her in the darkness that chased her around during the days too. Noises made her jump. People made her jump. Touches made her jump.

But the nights were the worst. Dreams. Awful ones. Dark ones. Where the green verdigris patina of Atlantis' bronze corridors was replaced with the dangerous colour of gore and blood. Where she ran from a noise that chittered and chattered and chased her. Where the amber and white lights that lined the corridors didn't pull her away, but snuffed themselves out and left her in thick darkness. 

During the day she could try and push the dark away, by using the bright light that came with remembering the lingering memory of the lightning that had flooded through her small body when he had touched her fingers in the gate room. Sighing, as she trundled around the city, recalling the brightness of his smiles too.

This morning, she flitted through the mess hall, tray laden with porridge and orange juice, late for her next job of the day and already behind in her tasks, but her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat. 

I'll just run in, eat, then run out. A smash and grab of grub. Hopefully without the smash…

They didn't have tea here, so she had to put up with coffee. It was so bitter though.

But I need something to keep me awake…

Her steps became haphazard and she stumbled, when she saw him sat there at his usual table. Her porridge was righted, the tray tilted to stop it from falling and spilling her breakfast all over herself, as she slunk to sit at a table two away from him. Thanking everything that she hadn't spilled anything, or dropped her datapad that was clutched under one arm, held against her side.

Her dim, tired candles were re-lit by the sight of him there in the mess hall. She was glad that he had his back to her, so that she was free to gorge herself on all the brightness that she could, to dispel the dark thoughts that tried to pull her mood down and kept her shivering at night.

She knew that she was staring. But she couldn't help herself. Mesmerised. Caught in a net, because of being so. Trapped by that net, which was fashioned from long, fluffy, flyaway hair. 

Her breakfast was forgotten. The porridge went cold, as she stared. Watching him run his hand, his long fingers, through his shock of long, unkempt hair. His action had her flexing her fingers, her spoon was abandoned, her datapad ignored, the report that she should be typing out, was forgotten about, as her fingers bent and stretched, caught up in the act of imagining that it was herself who was caressing his hair. Her hand was held down, against the table's surface, as her fingers flexed, mirroring his action as unobtrusively as she could. All while she wondered if those unruly locks of his would feel as soft as she thought that they would. 

She told herself to stop, to cease, to look away, but the net had her tightly caught. A new sight caught her up and snagged her. Her fantasy moved away from his hair and the net tightened around her, as she became fascinated with watching how his fingers now scratched over the stubble of his chin and cheek. Wishing that she could be close enough, in space as well as emotions, to hear her nails make a scratch, scritch, scratch sound there, as she ran them over his fledgling beard. Her face heated, as she struggled to remove herself from this tight trap. Aware enough though, to stifle and swallow a fledgling sigh, while wishing that she could plop her forefinger onto the cleft that sat upon his strong chin.

Her datapad beeped at her and she was dragged back to the realities of life. She glared down at the screen. Frowning at how another two jobs had been added to her already lengthy queue. A huffed sigh fell from her lips. A sigh without any of the soft connotations of the previous, stoppered one. A sigh that was freely released, instead of bitten down on, as she saw how one of the work tickets gave a location all the way out in a corridor on one of the furthest away arms of the city. 

She nibbled on her bottom lip, hoping it wasn't another job like that last, similar one. Like the one that kept her away at night. Like the one that had her peering around corners and into shadows. Like the one that had her jumping at any noises, while she worked alone. 

God! I hope there's no more of those awful jobs! I can't… I'm so glad he was there when I exited the transport after that… That he was the first person I saw, after seeing the remnants of all of that rage and anger… I should really have taken the transporter down to our department to report in. I don't know why I chose to go to the gate room. Maybe I hoped to see him… to grab some comfort after seeing all of that…? And I did! But I couldn't smile… I shook my head at him and ran… I hope he doesn't think that I was refusing him… I just couldn't deal with anything at all after seeing that and… Oh god! Will he think that I was running from and refusing him and not that awful job…? What have I done! 

Her datapad was abandoned and she picked up her spoon, fussing with her cooling breakfast. Grimacing, as she tasted how lumpy and cold her porridge now was. Her breakfast was abandoned, as it had turned as bitter as the coffee that she finished. Soured by the thought that he could have misinterpreted her actions. The cold breakfast was left and she returned back to trying to type out the report of her last job. A simple one. A food spillage, just along the corridor from here, in the mess hall. The reason why she was sitting here, a little late for breakfast. But her lateness held a surprise, as he was there already, when she had entered. Sitting with his usual group of companions, deep in discussions with them. Heated discussions, by the looks of things, from the waved hand gestures, expressions and raised voices of all of them. Which meant that she could slink into her usual place, two tables away from him and conduct her observations unseen.

Once more, that needed report was ignored, as she followed his waving hands. Trying to gather a gist of what he might be saying, with the way he waved them around while he spoke.

Something that he's not happy about, from the way he's holding them… his hands… hands…

Her thoughts wandered off again. Floating off. Wafted off by waving hands. His hands. She watched them, as a cat would a feathered toy. Following them, as she sat there, breakfast and work were ignored and abandoned. Sitting there, when she should be scurrying about the large city, going about her long list of daily tasks. Too distracted away from her lowly office was she, by him and his hands. So much so, that she lost track of time. Chasing after the movements of his hands, she strayed from the path of her duties. 

Her distraction was further fueled by his hands reminding her of his touch in the grand hallway of the Stargate. 

A stolen touch. 

A fleeting touch. 

A warm touch. 

A touch that gave and did not take. 

A soft touch. 

A touch that told her everything that she needed to know about what manner of man he was and what he could mean to her. 

A touch that told her nothing about him, other than that she was hooked, taken, spoken for, as soon as that bolt of lightning had branded her as his.

The fingers of her left had strayed to her right hand. Stroking her own fingers where he had touched her. Bringing about the memory of that touch. Of his touch. 

She found her face heating again and her mouth smiling. Her hands shifted apart, as she tried to shut both unbidden things, blush and smile away and down, before anyone noticed. But instead, she found herself giggling at the thought of what had followed his touch. 

His smile. A smile that confirmed everything that his touch had promised to her. And words, well one word in particular. Soft spoken. Gentle. Hushed. Putting her at ease, after the calamity and embarrassment of tripping and almost falling, after travelling through the gate and arriving at the lost city.

Myško… I still don't know what it means, what it is that he called me there…

Lost in her daydream. She sat and stared and fell. Falling, as she oft found herself doing these days. Daydreaming, while she went about her duties. Allowing her feet to walk her where they willed. Finding herself in a part of the city that she did not know. Having to ask one of the too tall, too loud, but numerous guards, how to get back to her section.

Her face heated and the trap snagged her up once again. Too fascinated by how his fingers curled and unfurled, was she. Blinking and swallowing, as she watched the petals of his hands move, was she. Drifting further from her duties and her breakfast, as she lost herself in memories of the solid past and an imagined future, as she sat there, in the present and watched his hands speak. Too mesmerised by those languid hands that spoke in a language of their own, was she, that she didn't realise that anyone was speaking to her, until they touched her shoulder and she jumped, startled out of her daydreaming by the cold touch of someone other than him touching her.

"Hello! Are you finished here?"

"What…?"

"Are you done here?"

"I…?"

"There's no space and you've been sitting here for ages, taking up most of the table!"

"Oh! Yes. I… Let me…" She scrambled to gather up her scattered belongings. Gathering up the detritus of her half-eaten meal and her datapad.

"You can leave the tray, I can do that, just, we'd like to sit and eat, please!"

"Yes, yes, sorry… no… I'll just… I can take it!" She stood, her tray and its contents balanced in one hand, her datapad held in the other.

Hurried and harried, she stood and turned and ended up walking - smack, bang - into another person. Dropping her tray. Spilling her food and theirs. Dropping her datapad and theirs. Her small frame meant that she was knocked over like a bowling pin, falling to her feet. Recovering from that, she scrambled to gather the contents of her spilled tray. Another cleaning job to add to her already full list. Trying to apologise to the person she had bumped into. Feeling her eyes water at their gruff, frowned acceptance, as they picked their datapad up. Watching them wipe spilled porridge off of the screen of their datapad. Praying that it wasn't broken. Hoping that no-one, especially him, had been witness to her stupidity and clumsiness.

I need to go. I need to go. I need to run. Before he turns and sees what a fool I am. What an idiot I am. How clumsy I am. How stupid I am!

Her hand reached out to grab her own fallen datapad. But she froze. Halted. Stopped. She was stilled in place, where she was, crouched on the floor. Left to suck in a shaken breath, as her fingers were burned by a lightning strike. A heated touch.

"Myško…?"

Him… 

"Yes…" Her word was breathed out, puffed out, while she stared at how he had taken up her hands and held them in his. 

He…

She felt herself shake. Shivering, as she felt his touch explode up her arm. Quivering, while she watched his mouth move, seeing him speak and ask her something. But the loud thumping of her blood rushing in her head, in her ears, meant that she could not hear or understand what it was that he had just asked her.

Her breath was puffed out and she dragged her eyes up, looking up, she breathed in a pair of blue eyes. Feeling her vision blur at how he had seen her clumsy display. His question was repeated, this time she heard and understood.

"Are you hurt…?"

She shook her head. Not even trying to attempt to speak out and answer, as she knew that it would all come out wrong. She felt his hands tighten around hers, as he spoke again, asking another question, but that was forgotten, as the lightning smashed into her again, causing her to shiver.

"You are shaking… Myško…? Are you injured?"

"I…"

His eyes… They're so… Blue… 

She blinked up at him. Not knowing what to say or do or even how to be.

Blue like the sky.

She stared up at his smile and released her breath. A soft sigh, that floated around her head, as she felt his hands pull at hers and pulled on her hands, helping her to stand back up.

Blue like the sea.

She sucked in a breath, as she stood before him, trapped by the sight of his bright eyes staring at her and by the feel of his warm touch.

So blue… 

She puffed her breath out.

Beautiful blue pools that I could lose myself in, that I would gladly drown in… 

She felt him tug at her. She shifted her fingers and brushed them against his, testing, trying and there it was again. Lightning zapped up her arm, while he pulled her up, guiding her up, until she stood in front of him, staring up at him. Their hands held between them.

"Lightning…" 

"Myško…?"

"It's not supposed to strike twice. Is it?"

"Well… scientifically speaking, no, it is not impossible for that natural phenomenon to strike where it has struck before. In fact, there have been several proven cases, especially amongst those who play golf. I know of cases where golfers have been hit multiple times, but then the metal golf club, held up, they are an outlier there. But statistically speaking, yes, it is highly unlikely. It is improbable, but not impossible. So sometimes it does occur, yes. Like now, I think…?"

She stared at him. Watching. Not knowing what to say to that mini speech of his. Not hearing, not listening. Being wrapped up in watching how his mouth formed his words and how warm his hands were, where he held her. A frown formed on her face, as she noticed how his bright smile was fading and falling.

"I…" Her throat tightened and nothing else would come out. She swallowed and tried to clear her heated throat.

"Are you alright…? You fell…"

"Did I…?" 

Oh god, he saw me fall… He saw me make a fool of myself…

"Are you hurt…?"

"No…" She gave a tug on her hands, not too much though, torn between wanting to run from  her acute embarrassment and wanting to stay within the reassurance of his warm hold. Her face matched his, her smile fell from her, falling to the ground, just as she had, when she felt his hands shift and release her. Her face and mood dropped lower still, as she saw how he moved back and away from her. She felt cold. Numb. Except for a sharp pain in her elbow. She rubbed that and watched, as he moved away from her and picked up her fallen datapad. 

"Your datapad…" 

Her horror and fears kicked her in the gut, twisting and tightening them, as she watched him wipe lumps of her forgotten breakfast from her datapad's screen. 

Oh god!

"I don't think it is too damaged, just a little… porridgey…?"

She stared down at where her hands twisted around themselves and noticed how her uniform was also covered in cold porridge. Movement caused her vision to shift. Turning towards it, raising her vision to see how he was holding out her datapad. One with a cracked screen and porridge splats upon it.

Oh god! I'm such a mess!

Her head was raised further up and she stared at his grimacing face, as he attempted to push some of the porridge off of the screen. Her face heated and her eyes watered, blurring her vision. She shook her head, her mouth opened and closed. But nothing other than a ridiculous squeak came out. 

Oh god, he saw me fall, he saw how clumsy I am… Oh no… nononononono!

"Sorry…" a whisper was dropped at his feet, as she snatched her smashed, porridge smeared datapad back and scurried away. Bereft that he had noticed her clumsiness and carelessness, feeling her throat heat and her vision blur, as she fled. Hot tears burned and choked her, as she ran. Knowing that he had seen her shame. Those bright, blue eyes of his must have seen her humiliation, mustn't they? And he wouldn't want to be around such a clumsy clot as she obviously was.

And all because she was too busy watching those delicious hands move and flow around him, like two large birds flitting around a feeder.

Chapter Text

He knew that his mood was black, dark, terrible. He knew that he snapped and snarled and was reverting to more and more Czech, instead of English. The use of which was ever directly proportionate to the blackness of his ire.

New arguments were started. Old arguments were picked at and scratched at, even before the wounds and scabs had healed. All because of one shaken head and refusal of him.

His attention was snapped out and away from the argument with McKay in the mess hall, by a loud cry and a shout. 

"Oh well, there goes another datapad!" McKay rolled his eyes.

Radek turned to see where his colleague pointed to and saw a commotion unfolding two tables away. Someone had fallen. 

A collision in the walkway?

His eyes widened, then narrowed and his face darkened, as he saw how it was her who was sitting on the floor amongst a pile of spilled food and datapads.

Who dared to walk into her! What fool did that to her! Spilling her food! Forcing her to drop her datapad! Who dared to fell her, forcing her to fall like that!

He glowered and glared at the zkurvysyn who had knocked her small frame to the floor like a bowling pin. He gripped the table and a growl fell from between his bared teeth.

"Ah… Zelenka… Is everything okay…?"

"What, Rodney! What is it! Co teď chceš, ty otravný hajzle!" he growled his words out at his colleague. A superior in rank, but not in awareness or cognizance of what was going on around him for anyone else who wasn't McKay. He gripped the edge of the table they sat at. Not daring to move his hands. Keeping them leashed, so as not to do anything stupid.

"Ha! Clumsy oafs! Although… do you think I should go and collect their smashed up datapads, I might be able to salvage them as low RAM units for testing, assuming they're not too banged up…?" 

"Zkurvysyn!" Radek hissed out and stood, spinning his glare away from McKay. He turned away, moving off to where she was sitting on the floor, cradling her elbow. Crouching down in front of a downed mouse. Ignoring the smashed datapad. He grabbed her hands, wanting to check on her and not a piece of kit that could easily be replaced.

He sucked in a breath and heard her do similar, as their fingers touched. He was left breathless, while trapped within a recreation of the scene in the gate-room, except that it was a ruined piece of expensive electronic equipment and lumps of cold porridge that lay between them, and not her bagged belongings. He froze. Halted. Stopped from whatever he was going to do or say next, as his fingers were burned by a flash of lightning. A fresh strike. One that burned him all over again. He swallowed. And did so again, feeling his face heat, as he attempted to speak, even though his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. A word. One word. Her word. He tried that.

"Myško…?"

"Yes…"

Her word was breathed out, puffed out. He felt her warm breath land upon where he held her hands in his. He felt her shake and asked the obvious.

"Are you hurt…?" He watched her raise her head up, dragging her face up and he waited. Holding her hands, crouching before her, waiting and waiting aeons and aeons, for her to look up and see him. She dragged her eyes up and stared at him. He saw the same pretty hazel eyes. But frowned, as he saw how they swam with tears. 

"Are you hurt…?" He repeated his question because he didn't know what else to say. He frowned, when she failed to answer and just shook her head. 

She will refuse me again! I need to… Kurva! What do I do!

He tightened his grip upon her. Just in case she tried to run from him again. He swallowed, as he felt her shiver.

"You are shaking… Myško…? Are you injured?" He tried again. 

She smiled the first time I called her that…

"I…"

He watched her blink up at him. Not knowing what to say or do or how to be around her.

Her eyes… They're so…  

He sucked in a breath.

Green eyes… like a cat. Kočičko… 

He puffed his breath out. His knees reminded him that crouching down like this was not ideal. So he pulled at her hands, encouraging her, helping her to stand back up.

Hazel… Just like the nuts that grew in our garden…

He stared down at her.

Amber like a priceless, beautiful jewel that only the very richest of us could afford… 

He stared down at her smile and released his breath. Hearing her sigh. A soft sound, that floated around his head. 

As he helped her up, raising her and himself up from the floor, he felt her shift her hands and intertwine her fingers around his. He felt her fingers move within his larger hands, where he held her. A light brush. A gentle brush of her fingers against his. Causing lightning to zap up his arm, as he helped her up. And with one last pull, one final tug upon her soft hands, she stood before him, but he did not release her. How could he, when he felt her return his hold, when he saw how she stared up at him, as he stared down at her. He stood there, staring, with his hands clasped around hers, held between themselves.

"Lightning…" 

Lightning gripped him. Striking again. Striking twice. "Myško…?"

"It's not supposed to strike twice. Is it?"

"Well… scientifically speaking, no…" His was his safe space. Science and mathematics. That man's confidence took over. That man pushed the nervous one away. "It is not impossible for that natural phenomenon to strike where it has struck before. In fact, there have been several proven cases, especially amongst those who play golf. I know of cases where golfers have been hit multiple times, but then the metal golf club, held up, they are an outlier there. But statistically speaking, yes, it is highly unlikely. It is improbable, but not impossible." The nervous man pulled at the scientist's elbow, trying to gain his attention, trying to tell him something, trying to take over. "So sometimes it does occur, yes." Words were shoved at the scientist. Forcing him to acknowledge the non-science of what had just occurred, when they had touched. "Like now, I think…?" He paused, feeling his face heat, feeling himself sweat, at the acknowledgement of the ridiculoulosity of what had occurred. Something that had no scientific or statistical or any sort of explanation. His smile wavered, while he waited for her to laugh or look at him to tell him to quieten his nervous babblings, as everyone else did.

"I…"

"Are you alright…?" He fell back into the known, trying to ignore the hurt from how she had not said anything or done anything in reply to his roundabout statement about himself. Feeling his enthusiasm fall, just as his smile did. "You fell…" 

"Did I…?"

"Are you hurt…?"

"No…" He cursed himself for an idiot, as he felt her trying to pull her hands away from his.

I… She… This is too much… I don't know what to do… I can't… I should not tread where I do not understand! She did not understand what I was trying to say! I messed my words up and missed my chance! Idiota!

He turned back to what he knew best and released her hands. Moving to pick up her fallen datapad. "Your datapad…" Wiping porridge from its screen. "I don't think it is too damaged, just a little… porridgey…?" he blurted out. It was all his whirring, whirling mind could manage.

He peered down at her. Wondering why she stared at him. Seeing her face redden, feeling his own face heat. He saw her eyes fill with tears again and held her laptop out. Feeling stupid, feeling useless. Any words of comfort or condolences or anything that he could offer her were stuffed back down his throat, as he watched her shake her head and refuse him again. Seeing her mouth open and close. Nothing but a squeak came out. 

Kurva! What should I do!

Feeling his anger rising, as he could think of nothing to say or do from stopping her from running away from him again.

"Sorry…" 

A whisper was dropped at his feet and he was left there, staring after her, as she snatched her smashed, porridge covered datapad back and scurried away. 

"Zelenka! What are you doing there, we've work to do!"

"Rodney!" A hissed out word.

"Well… off she goes… I suppose that if she's walking, or rather, running, then she's not hurt…?"

Radek turned and offered a cumulonimbus clad glare to McKay, before he strode away, waving his arms, dropping Czech flavoured insults to all around him, as he stormed off and away to his own lab, a private space away from McKay. Glowering at the screen of his three laptops and using his anger to fuel him and aid him in solving all seven of the necessary nested differentials needed to fix the issue with the electronics malfunction in the transponder that fed the tower with its power. Huffing as he pressed the 'Enter' key and set his fix into action. Smiling as the lights shone a discernible few lumens brighter in the lab that he sat in. His report was tapped out with angry fingers that thudded the keyboard and the 'Enter' key was smashed to send that report on its way to Woolsey, bypassing McKay. 

Another slew of Czech swears were unleashed, when he noticed the time. Just past midnight. Way too late to catch her and a meal in the mess hall. He took his rumbling stomach and himself off and stomped back to his quarters. Chewing on a cereal bar from his hidden stash there, as he ran several scenarios around in his head. All involved rescuing the fair maiden, being the hero, swooping and scooping her up like a modern day Záviš of Falkenstein. Although he frowned at that analogy, as that nobleman's ending had not been good. No, maybe Jan Žižka would be a better hero for him to pluck his fallen maiden up as? He toyed with the notion of being an Orebité for her. 

An orphan? Ne… I don't want her pity… only her… But do I? When she does not want me! Do I want to be hurt like that? Again?  

He shook his head. Not knowing what to do, or how to answer himself.

What? What is it that I want from her? From someone that I do not even know how to speak to? Her acknowledgement would be a start. Acknowledgement that I exist… Then… Then, what? 

He questioned and argued with himself. Even though there was no need. He knew what he wanted. He wanted what he had once had. But had lost. He wanted what he had seen Rodney McKay of all people find here. 

I want… No! I won't say it! To say it is to jinx it and lose it! If I say it, then it'll run from me, just as she did!

Sleep did not come easily that night. Thoughts of her and him and them together and doing sweet things, wicked things together, were replaced by her falling and falling at his feet into a deep oubliette that was filled with cold porridge. And no matter how he tried, he could not help her or retrieve her or wipe her soiled uniform clean. All that he could do was shout out from the top of the chasm, while listening to her say 'sorry' far below where he stood. 

Chapter Text

Toast was consumed for breakfast that morning. A rushed meal that consisted of three slices of toast and jam squashed together, to make a big thick sandwich. Enough to keep her going all day, without needing to visit the mess hall for lunch. A handful of cereal bars, one for lunch, the rest to replenish her emergency stash were pocketed too, from the mess hall counter. Another cereal bar and a large, red apple that was also swiped from the mess hall, would be her dinner, to be consumed later that night, in her quarters. She had performed a quick check to see if he was in there first. Him. Who had seen her clumsiness yesterday. And seeing that he was not, no chances were taken and a quick 'hit and run' for her simple breakfast, lunch and dinner was done. 

It was a larger than usual breakfast for her. One to make up for her growling stomach that morning, which was caused by her hunger abandoning her for all of yesterday. She had survived all day without her hunger bothering her, until she lay in her bed last night and her stomach had grumbled and protested at her, because she had skipped lunch and dinner yesterday. And she didn't have and sneakily stashed away cereal or energy bars in her quarters to quell its loud complaints. 

Her breakfast was taken away and hastily consumed, while she hurried and scurried off to the work office, to see what jobs were in store for her that day. Receiving her scuffed datapad, that was solely reserved for her now, along with odd praise from her supervisor, when he dished out the jobs. Praise for finishing her full compliment of yesterday's tickets early, apparently. 

With the day's work done, she headed back to her quarters, hiding there, while she pondered upon her unusual encounter with her supervisor that morning.

My supervisor… he was acting odd today… Strange… Smiling…

She shivered at that thought. Remembering his odd smile, that was all teeth and didn't reach the corners of his eyes. There were no pleasing crinkles there, unlike with another smile, from another person who she wished to avoid too.

But at least my supervisor wasn't all shouty at me… And he didn't touch my hand again…

Another shiver shuddered through her, as she thought of that, while she consumed her scant dinner. The apple was nibbled upon and savoured. Eaten, while she trod back to what had occurred yesterday morning and had her hiding in the small room that was her domain in the ancient city of Atlantis. 

God! I never want to see another bowl of porridge ever, in my whole entire life, ever again. Ever! I'm such a fool! Such an idiot! So clumsy! And he saw me! Of all the people who could have seen me! He saw what happened! He saw me fall on my arse and be all covered in horrible, cold porridge! Oh god! Why!

Scrinching her eyes up, she curled up into a tight ball on her bed and cursed her ill fortune and bad luck and sod's law, for having him there to witness her stupidity and her clumsiness. Her face burned from the sharp embarrassment of it all. Her eyes watered with the frustration of having that beautiful touch and having him there, holding her, smiling at her, all spoiled by a bowl of cold porridge. 

An optimist would say, but oh well, if you hadn't fallen, then he wouldn't have come over! I say no! I say that he might have anyway, or… that I might have gone and spoke to him… 

She knew that was a lie. She knew it for what it was. A big, laughing lie. Because she would have stayed sitting there all day, or for as long as he was there, just watching him and would never in a million years have gone over to him, or spoken to him, or done something that would have made him hold her hands like he had done there.

Oh god but couldn't it have been something else that brought him to me, something nice, something that didn't involve me being covered in bloody cold porridge! 

She clung to the bright spots of that encounter for dear life. Clinging to the small, bright moments that she had grasped hold of, that she had savoured at the time, when she was wrapped up in his touch, his presence, his hands, his smile. She clung onto the feel of his warm hands. Reliving that moment. Becoming blinded by the brightness of his smile once more. Becoming deafened by the sound of his vibrant words one again. Nibbling her lips at the remembrance of how deep his voice was, but then how it grew higher in pitch, when he was talking at length. Speaking about science and something else that she didn't quite recall.  

Another touch… More lightning…  

A soft sigh fell from her nibble teased lips, when she recalled that touch. Twitching her fingers, allowing herself to fill with his lighting once more. But then the stupidity of her words had her cringing and curling in upon herself and the lightning was banished and gone. 

Why didn't I say something coherent! I had my chance. He was there… Right there! And all I could do was mumble about lightning and run… So stupid… Stupid!

Sleep was hard to come by for the next few nights. Ridiculous cheese dreams plagued her. Dreams where she was stuck in a deep well that was full of cold porridge was a particularly annoying one that was on repeat every night, so it seemed. A dream where she could hear someone calling out her name from the top of the well, but couldn't quite hear who it was, or see who it was either.

-

Avoiding him and a reminder of the acute embarrassment that she had suffered there, in the mess hall, kept her meals short and swift and consisting of things that she could grab and take away to be eaten elsewhere. If a particular meal enticed her and she was forced to sit in the mess hall to consume it, she did not take any chances and made sure to seat herself near the exit for a quick getaway. Not being able to wean herself entirely off of him. Watching him from afar. Gathering splintered slivers of sightings, as she fled. But at the same time, not wanting him to see how embarrassed, how small, how ashamed she felt, for her fall, for her stumble from grace, right there in front of him.

Ensconced in her usual cozy corner, curled up on one of the soft, white, padded sofa chairs, in that corridor that was her favourite place to be, during a quiet afternoon lunchtime, she tapped away at her datapad, writing her report up, while munching on a cereal bar that was full of nuts and seeds. She liked that little spot. The chairs were plush and comfortable and only had space for one person, so no-one could sit next to her and interrupt her chain of thought. Or interrupt it any more than it already was, with the thoughts of him never lurking too far away. It wasn't a busy spot. It was a thoroughfare, but not one that was between anywhere in particular. A side route. One lined by the potted plants that climbed and hung all over the ancient city. She wondered who had watered and looked after them for all those thousands of years when it was uninhabited. 

Her botanical ponderings were interrupted and she jumped, screamed and almost fell off of her seat when she heard a loud, large BANG come from along the corridor. She had to scrabble and scramble, to stop herself from dropping and wrecking her datapad any more than it already was. 

A woman in a blue top ran over to her. Running over from one of the other comfy seats that littered the corridor. Coming over and addressing her.

"Sorry about that! I saw you jump! Fritzy electrics in this place! It's a wonder I didn't zap myself there! Did you see the big bolt of lightning that came out of the plug and the panel behind me!"

"Um, no… I didn't… But I heard the bang…"

"Yea… That'll be me being shouted at by Doctor McKay I guess…"

"I'm sure he won't, it was an accident after all…" She blinked, as the scientist snorted. 

"Oh look, your datapad has a crack there. Did you drop it when—"

"Oh no. That was something else…" She pulled her datapad to her chest, hiding its deformity and her creased and crumpled memory.

"Sorry again. Just, don't use that plug socket there, where I was sitting, to charge your datapad, I guess…? It was fine yesterday… Very strange… Very strange…"

She nodded to the scientist, watching the scientist walk away, shaking her head, muttering about the strangeness of that particular socket. Her datapad and things were gathered up and  she left her cozy corner. Heading back to the office to pick up the afternoon's jobs. Leaving the typing up of her reports until later. But her rambling thoughts about what she could have in store for her this afternoon, were paused by her thoughts screaming at her ofr attention.

Lightning… Lightning! Wait! He mentioned too it… Didn't he…? He said… What did he say…? When I stupidly asked about lightning not supposed to being able to strike twice. What did he say? Oh god why can't I remember! No! No… Wait! Wait… Let me think! Let me think… I asked him… And he replied… He said lots of sciencey stuff that I can't quite remember… Why didn't I pay attention to what he said, instead of just staring at him…? Oh but he's so pretty and… No! Think, fool! What did he say…? I know there was something important there, something that I missed, because his smile fell and he released my hands just after he finished speaking and I stupidly didn't reply. Then he picked my datapad up and… And I ran! 

She cringed, bringing her knees up, curling tighter around herself, as she sat there.

Oh god but what did he say! Something about golf, or golfers wasn't it? And statistics and their golf clubs and… No, no, it was after that, after all of that… When he was smiling so prettily… Speaking about his work… He must love it so much because he lit up and was smiling beautifully when he spoke about that! No! Concentrate! What did he say after that…? Hmmm… He said something about lightning striking twice being improbable… Yes! That! Yes! But not being impossible, was it…? And then… After that… That is the important bit! That's the bit I need to remember! Oh god, why can't I remember! Think… Think!  

'So sometimes it does occur, yes.' 

Yes! But just after that, he said something small, something I sort of missed, after that, but I heard it too and why can't I remember something so important! What the hell was it! I'm so selfish! I should know what he said! Think… Think!

'Like I think.' 

No, that's not right! No!

'Like now, I think…?' 

Yes! That's it! Yes!

'So sometimes it does occur, yes, like now…' 

He said 'Like now…' Oh god! He said… He… 

So… Does that mean that he…? What does it mean? Does it mean that he…? Does it mean that he felt it too…? The lightning when we touched…? Does that mean that it's not just me making things up? That it's not just infatuation and that he…?

Oh god! Why would he say that then though? Why would he admit to that, when I'm lying on the floor, covered in cold porridge? 

She shook at that thought. At the momentous realisation that was all covered in porridge.

But he admitted to… to feeling what I do… Did he…? Is that what he said and what that means?

Oh god but I need… I need to camp out in the mess hall for all of next week! He needs to eat! It's where I've seen him most often… I just need to wait and then… And then what…?

Oh god! Why is everything so bloody complicated and covered in cold porridge!

She stood, gathering up her things, rushing off, heading back to the work office so that she could finish that afternoon's work in quick time and have dinner in the mess hall that evening.

Chapter Text

"Zkurvysyn!" Radek's curse slipped out louder than he had intended it to. Causing McKay and Sheppard to turn and frown over at him, from where they sat in the mess hall, at the same table, opposite from the small, foul-tempered. Czech scientist. "Nothing… Nothing…" he muttered and went back to eating. Gnawing on his sandwich. Glaring at the empty space two tables away, where she usually sat. Lunch had been late today, because McKay wanted to finish the algorithm for his cooling and heating system upgrades first. 

Lunch was consumed while he grumbled and listened to the gossiping men. He hung about, staying there longer than he would have, wanting to see her there. When the other two men stood to leave, he followed after them. Heading out of the mess hall and back to the control room.

-

"Kurva!" Another curse slid out, as Radek sat in the control room. And again, his curse was louder than intended. A grumbled grouch, instead of his usual frustrated mumble. The frustration was there, but not aimed at the usual things, not aimed at the calculations that he was working on, while he sat at the back of the control room. No, his frustration was pointed at himself. He stabbed himself, for his utter failure, for letting her go, letting her run, instead of keeping a tight hold upon her.

"Kurva!"

"Uh… Is everything okay there, Doctor Zelenka?"

"Yes, yes!" Radek waved his hands at Chuck, who was staring at him. "Yes! Everything is fine! More than fine, in fact it is so fine, that I will be going to my lab now, as I have finished all of the resets here!"

"Oh… Kay…"

"Please do not break anything else!"

"Sure thing, Doc!" Chuck smiled.

"And no more eating or drinking at the workstations here!"

"Uh… We don't… Not since the last time you said to not…"

"Yes, yes! That is why I had to remove half a sandwich's worth of crumbs from that keyboard there!"

"Well, maybe sometimes… I mean, when it's late at night and… You know how it is… You get hungry and you're trying to stay awake and—"

"No more eating here! The crystals underneath the desk do not work efficiently, with… with cheese and pickle on them!"

"Are you done here, Zelenka?"

Radek looked up, upon hearing Rodney McKay call his name. Narrowing his eyes when he saw him eating a sandwich there. 

McKay leaned over and picked an escaped piece of lettuce up from a keyboard. "Oops, sorry! My bad!" 

Radek snatched up his laptop, glaring at the control room technicians, daring them to say anything, anything at all. 

"Yes, Rodney! I am very much done here!" Radek turned and stormed away. Leaving a trail of muttered swear words in his angry wake.

-

"So, did you get me a list of potential victims, Zelenka?"

"I did not think that there was much point… Not with Private Cooper added to the list of victims now… It was a coincidence then, with the first two, I suppose?" Radek shrugged.

"Yeah… I guess so…" Colonel Sheppard mirrored the scientist's gesture. 

"Statistically, the Private is maybe an anomaly, because men are less likely to be a victim to such… such things… So, no, I do not think it is worth carrying on down that pathway, Colonel."

"Probably not worth worrying anyone, too. The first two though… They did look similar. I thought we were onto something there…"

"A mere statistical coincidence, most like, until more such things occur."

"Which will not be happening, because we'll catch that son of a bitch before anything happens again! So, do you have anything for me then?"

"No… I'm afraid not. I have nothing from the swabs and tests. There is no unfamiliar DNA or fingerprints… And nothing that matches anyone other than the victim, or…"

"Or…"

"One of us… I am still the main suspect, if you add all of the circumstantial evidence in. I found one of the victims after all… But…"

"But...?"

"Instead of checking the database for similar looking victims, I thought about checking for backgrounds. I know that everyone should have been checked beforehand, vetted and all of that, but…?"

"But there may have been an oversight?"

"Yes. And maybe I could check police files too. Run an algorithm to check for similar… crimes and overlap that data with areas where our personnel lived?"

"Good idea!"

"I will need the correct authorisation though, to do that, to look through personnel files and police records and anything like that…"

"Consider yourself authorised! I'll get Woolsey to red stamp your permission. Get snooping Zelenka! See what you can sniff out!"

"Yes…"

-

While waiting for the search to run, Radek stared through the screen. His head was rested on his hand, his elbow leaned on the desk, allowing his mind to drift back to her shaking her head at him in the gate room. And then he fled to the memory of her pulling her hands away from him, apologising and running from him.

"Ah, there you are Zelenka!"

"Rodney." Radek made a face, as his colleague's loud voice pulled him out and away from his musings.

"Did you hear what happened?"

"What happened, Rodney?" Radek kept his eyes on his screen, not taking them away from there, not bothering to look up.

"Bradshaw has outed all the electrics in one of the corridors, just now! She zapped everything! I mean, it's not as bad as when I zapped you, but then I did heal you afterwards."

"And I thanked you for that. For the healing! Not for the zapping!"

"A slight oversight on my part, I admit. The zapping, not the healing of course…"

"Was anyone hurt, Rodney?"

"What? No. Just Bradshaw's reputation! Ha! No-one was there, other than her and some other no-one, who already had a cracked casing on their datapad, from what Bradshaw told me!"

Radek blinked his eyes. Cracked casing… Is it… Her…? "I'll get going then!"

"Why, thank you Radek, I was going to ask if you could go off and fix the fried electrics, while I concentrate on these little tweaks of mine and—"

"No more zapping Rodney!" Radek shook his finger at his colleague.

"Of course! I'm working on the optimisations for the water purification, not anything electrical. I think I can get the system to run better than the ancients did and—"

"And no playing with the sewage systems either! It took me weeks to get my hair smelling normal again!"

"Ha! Funny you should say that about hair, but—"

"Tell me when I'm back please, Rodney! I'm in no mood for gossip!"

"Wait! You'll want to hear this gossip!"

"No I won't!"

"You will! I promise! Because it's about you!"

"Me? What is it!" Radek spun on his heel and frowned at his fellow scientist.

"Well…"

Radek huffed at the large smirk that overtook Rodney McKay's face. A smirk that was always there when he had some juicy tidbit of gossip.

"There's some rumour going around about you and…"

"And…?"

"That you're the reason that one of the Privates got sent back to Earth. Some tiff between you and him!"

"Tiff! Me?"

"That's what I said! I said: Zelenka? He's always angry, but he's never angry angry, he's not one to beat anyone up and—"

"I was the only one the soldiers didn't catch, when—"

"Yes, yes, that doesn't count—"

"I knocked one out with a metal pipe and stole his weapon and—"

"Unverified!" 

"Ha!"

"So!"

"So?"

"This Private… Cooper I think…? He's been sent back to Earth, apparently because you fought with him over…"

"Over?" Radek waited, as Rodney drew closer.

"Some female… So I heard…" McKay whispered.

"What!" Radek shouted.

"Yea! I know! Ridiculous! I don't know who makes this nonsense up! You fighting over some—"

"I will see you later, Rodney!" Radek growled out, running, leaving, as he felt his face heat and sweat form along his back.

Kurva!

He mumbled and grumbled all the way to where Doctor Bradshaw was waiting for him. 

"Ah, Doctor Zelenka!"

He nodded. Peering around. Seeing no-one but that Bradshaw. Kurva! I've missed her! Too busy listening to Rodney's gossip! I've missed my chance!

"It's this panel here, where the socket was, that… I don't know what happened, I've used it so many times before, it's a nice, quiet nook to sit, away from everything, but this time, I plugged my kit in and… Bang!"

"Bang?" Radek frowned.

"Yes! Bang! With lightning and everything!"

"Hmmm… You can go. I'll fix up everything here."

"I mean electrics aren't my speciality, so… But if you're sure, though?"

Radek nodded and shoo-ed Bradshaw away. Preferring to work alone. Soothing his frustrations away with the certainty of his work. Undoing the soot covered panel and huffing at the burnt cables. 

"What a mess! Lightning! Ha! There's been a whole storm here!" he huffed to himself, as he frowned down at the scorched walls, kneeling down, pulling at the blackened panel.

Wait! Wait… Lightning…? Lightning!

He paused what he was doing and stilled his busy hands. Dropping the removed panel and rocking back on his heels.

Lightning… She mentioned lightning! And it striking twice! I thought… Why did she say that, and then ignore me when I confirmed how I felt? I said how I felt it too, didn't I? Well, no… not exactly, but I left a clue, a hint for her… Was I too vague…? She said… I remember exactly what she said!

'It's not supposed to strike twice. Is it?'

But she did not notice my words… She didn't acknowledge what I said in reply, that sometimes it does occur, like then…

But then… Why did she mention about lightning striking twice though? Surely she would only say something like that if…? Oh… She said… She… Does that mean that she feels as I do too? Does that mean? I am such an idota! So stupid! 

He stood. Groaning as he stretched his legs and rubbed his fallen asleep feet and aching knees.

Kurva! I am too old for this nonsense!

He stood there, fidgeting with his screwdriver.

I need to find her and tell her and see her and ask her and… Wait! How do I find her! How can I see her if I don't know where she is! And what do I tell her and ask her! I don't know what to say or do! 

He knelt back down again and plugged his datapad into the circuitry, running an analytical program to see what needed replacing or re-routing, to get this area up and running again.

Why does Rodney McKay have an easier time with all of this! He huffed to himself.

Mind you… Maybe not, if what I heard about him and Katie Brown holds true… Although there's him and the new Doctor… There's something going on there. She doesn't look like Colonel Carter, which is a bit strange… But… No! I cannot ask Rodney McKay for what to say! No! I am not a complete incompetent. I've done this before! Somehow… 

Another huff fell from himself, as he fiddled with wires, cutting some, fusing others.

But that did not exactly turn out too well… I thought… No! That was different! Space, distance, it killed anything there. No! This is different! She is here! Yes! I can do it again! I can try, can't I? I just need to… To steal her! No I can't do that. No! Or can I? No! Yes?

Job done, he gathered up his tools and screwed the panel back in place. Adding a job requisition for the charring and soot to be cleaned off of it.

Kurva! Do I need to move my lab to the mess hall! She has to eat and that's the only place we can get food here! She will have to come up for air, or to eat… And then… And then…?

His datapad was snatched up and he strode away.

Kurva! Why is everything so difficult!

Chapter Text

A soft sigh fell from her as she attended to her current task: cleaning the dead, slimy plant remnants and charred, melted scorches of some electrical discharge off of a wall. Dousing the dead plant protein with an enzyme and standing back, waiting for it to do its job. Wondering what had gone on here. Wondering if he had been involved. 

Another sigh dropped from her loose lips, as she shifted her weight from one hip, from one foot, to the other. This sigh was huffier, deeper, loaded with the inevitability that he must already have someone in his life. He wore no ring, but that meant nothing. She knew that. Some men and women never bothered. And even with those who did, that circle of precious metal did not stop them. She knew that very well, from her observations while working. Spotting people flitting from quarters to quarters, not noticing her in the shadows, as she went about her business and saw them do similar. She was the equivalent of the unseen Victorian servant, observing the underbelly of daily life and saying nothing. And anyway, even if he had no one special, he seemed to be wed to his work. Ever in that same group of colleagues, ever speaking about some sort of science, the alien technology maybe, that ran this city, from the snatched snippets she had overheard.

All were excuses that she made for staying away, for keeping her distance and keeping him as a painting to be watched only from afar and not to be observed close-up. Kept as a daydream and for soft thoughts to help her as she fell asleep at night.

Voices approached. 

She froze. 

Recognising one of them.

Him! 

Drawing closer and closer to where she stood, waiting for the wretched chemicals to eat their fill and do their job on the goo that she had been sent to clean. 

A known voice neared where she stood. Wide eyed. Slack jawed. 

But…

A certain voice rang out above the other that approached where she stood, her heart galloping. 

Wait…

A recognisable voice that stood head and shoulders above all the others. A voice that stood tall. A voice that snapped her out of her excuses. 

No! I'm all messy and covered in yukky stuff and… and…

Her head whipped to and fro, seeing if there was anywhere where she could hide or retreat to or scurry off to. But nowhere presented itself, so she withdrew into herself, hugging herself, keeping her gaze lowered. 

Maybe he'll walk past and not see me! 

Temptation pulled at her though, as she heard well-recognised tones of him. A voice that she knew so well and not enough. It pulled at the feeble strings of her curiosity. It held her in place, tugging at her, telling her to stay and listen to the to and fro of him arguing with that same man he was ever arguing with. Another scientist that he always seemed to be engaged in a battle of words with. His voice placed its finger beneath her chin and raised her head and her gaze up from the floor. It beseeched her to peer up from beneath her lowered lashes and look and stare and drink her fill. 

Oh no!

His gaze caught hers.

Her eyes widened.

His gaze lassoed her. His gaze captured her. His gaze trapped her. His wide, blue eyes caught hers. 

A smile. 

She offered him a shy smile. A small, smiled apology for her intrusion there. A smile that was passed on to him, beneath the cover of her lashes, hiding, uncertain of its refusal.

Sorry…

She waited and watched, expecting sharp, harsh laughter, as ever, when she was caught gazing where she shouldn't be. 

But no. 

She blinked. Watching, as he paused his argument. Another blink from her, as he nodded at her smile. An acknowledgement. 

And then… 

He smiled back at her. 

Oh god!

The same beautiful smile as before, when she had first arrived. When he had righted her, in the large gate room of Atlantis, after she had stumbled.

Lightning… 

She stared. And stared. And starred. Trapped. Caught. Lost in his wide, blue smile. Losing herself. Floating away upon that moment.

Oh god… I… 

She counted to five. 

Five heartbeats. 

Five held breaths.

Five longing moments, while he held her smile and gave her his.

Five sweet moments in time. 

And then he turned away and walked past and she was left staring at his back and he was gone. She swivelled her head, her eyes on stalks, her mouth on the floor. 

His voice was all that was left to her. Crumbs. Leftovers, as his argument and his steps continued onwards and carried him away. 

She stared after him. Listening to his footsteps and his words. Watching his wide back. Watching his hair float up and down and his hands gesticulate his sharp mood, while he walked with those swift steps of his. 

One glance. 

One nod.

A nothing.

It was probably a mere polite platitude, wasn't it? 

Yet she held onto that small interaction, as if it was the richest, brightest of treasures, because it was his acknowledgement of her existence. And that small moment was lit up, was brightened by one other thing.

Five seconds.

One smile.

A something.

His smile. His beautiful smile. A new smile of his… just for me… One that he gifted just to me… Only for me… No-one else… Mine… it was more than politeness… wasn't it…?

She giggled and clung onto the bright gift of that smile. Already feeling how well it had and would feed her. Already knowing how it was a feast worthy of a King. Already feeling how well it made her smile, from the way her cheeks ached and burned. Already feeling the buzz that lasted for hours and felt like it would do so for days and days too. 

That bright smile of his, in the murky corridor, it shifted her mood. It dragged her out of her sorry depression. It prodded and prompted her to change her campaign. 

The last of the digested, dead plant material was wiped away and the bronze panels were scraped free of their scuffed, black char. Her materials were loaded back onto her trolley and she used the time taken, while trundling off to her next job, to think and plan.

No more keeping away… 

She knew what needed doing now. 

Those five seconds told her what she wanted. 

I need to move back to seeking him out, instead of staying away! His smile! His smile… Maybe…? No… I need to be subtle… I need to… I can't take any chances! I need to move back to my usual seat, two tables from him! I need to start again and see if… if he notices me again, before I do anything else.

The pull, the allure of his smile was strong. But so was her fear that lurked and quashed any thoughts of anything too overt. 

Maybe…? Maybe if I first sit five tables away, the first time I see him? Then four? And so on, until I'm back in my usual place of being seated two tables away from him?

Her plan was adjusted and configured and gentled into a subtle move back towards him in the mess hall. A plan that gave her an escape route, if five seconds turned to none. A plan that gave a chance to see if five seconds would grow into something else, something more.

I need to move closer, but still stay far enough away so that I can run, if… if I mess things up again… Yet I'm still close enough to him, to be able to watch and hear snippets of him through the forest of everyone else there… And near enough to him, in case… in case…

Her face was hot, ridiculously so, when she arrived at her new job. Arriving and nodding at the people nearby. Ignoring their frowns, keeping her head lowered. Not caring. Because she had a plan. 

Now it was just a matter of putting it into practice.

-

He was there already, when she entered the crowded mess hall. Her plan was halfway to starting, but she felt fear gnaw at her and tell her to leave, to run, to stop this nonsense. 

She saw him, but he had not seen her. It gave her a chance. Her stubborn, shaking feet trod her closer, but not too close. Shifting her to slide into a seat that was five tables away from him. She shifted her tray into the table and kept her head down, staring into her porridge. From where she had settled, five tables away, she could sense him, she could hear his voice, but not see him. Her fingers tightened around her spoon and she raised her gaze up. There. He was still there. She could see him. But she could not hear him. His back was to her and she couldn't make out the exact words of what he was so obviously grumbling about, from the way his hands flew about and how she caught glimpses of a frown upon his face, when he turned his head to speak to the lucky person seated next to him. She had a stuttered view of him too, where she was hiding, five tables away. People coming and going, chatting, walking, sitting, kept her view of him, as a broken, disjointed thing, as they moved between where she watched and he sat, at his usual table, with those of his usual group. 

Her eyes widened, as she watched him stand. Her porridge laden spoon was held, halfway between her mouth and her bowl, as she heard him shout. Not all of his words could be heard. But the snippets of what she did hear him shout out, they were definitely not in English. Those words were spat out and stabbed out. They were sharp, jagged words that had her tilting her head to the side, trying to hear all the better what he said in that different language, his language. But the noise of the others around her dampened and fogged the symphony of his anger. Someone flitted between her and him and when the view cleared, he was gone.

That language… His language… Myško… That word he said to me, in his language… I know what his language is… but I still don't understand what that word means!

Without him to keep her there, she concentrated on her breakfast. Not wanting it to go cold and lumpy and to remind her of an earlier mistake. 

Her datapad beeped at her. Curiosity sped her mind to consult what it wanted of her. 

Another job, most like…

She frowned at the flashing notification. A reminder in an email.

Oh… What's this…?

'NEW ARRIVALS! DON'T FORGET TO SIGN UP FOR A LIBRARY CARD! ALL THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE UNIVERSE AND EARTH CAN BE AT YOUR FINGERTIP, JUST A BORROWED BOOK AWAY! ASK THE LIBRARY STAFF FOR DETAILS!'

I know about the reading room here, with the book borrowing scheme, but a library…? Maybe…?

Her finger traced the route from the mess hall that the map that was added to the attachment showed. Noting where the library was. Its location was oddly far away. Hidden away beneath the main tower. Low down. The reading room was near to here, to where she currently sat, close to the mess hall. She had been there several times. It was nice and quiet, because hardly anyone went there. But she had not heard of this other place.

A proper library? I didn't even know that one existed here. I don't remember it being mentioned in the training or induction…

Her breakfast was scoffed down. Consumed, while she hoped that today's tickets wouldn't send her off to anywhere that she wouldn't ordinarily venture. Especially not anywhere like that cleaning job that still gave her nightmares that scratched at her and chased her.

Maybe I can get someone to go with me to the library…? It's a bit far away and those dark corridors…

Her breakfast was finished and the tray placed in the rack, then she scurried off to the office, wanting to go and see what jobs awaited her that day. Hoping some would be near the library and none would be of the ilk of those three awful jobs with blood and anger and death.

-

"Library? No. I didn't get a reminder. Did you?" 

"No."

"Me either."

She watched all of her co-workers shake their heads at her question of if any of them had received the same email as her. Her bravado was clamped shut, as she saw how they rolled their eyes at her. She shuffled away from her question and stood, watching, listening from the outskirts of the group, as her query set off a flare, a chain reaction of conversations, that she was not part of.

"Who wants to go to a boring library! Now, if it was a reminder for a bar, then, count me in!"

"Oh yes, that'd be waaaay more useful than a boring library! A proper bar and proper drinks and not just the hooch that the scientists brew!"

"I could find a much better use for the reading room too! No-one ever uses it!"

"So you've been there, then?"

"To the reading room?"

"Yes! You went there?"

"Yeah… But only because I saw Colonel Sheppard go in…"

She noted how the direction of the conversation went back around to the inevitable one of the Colonel. Their un-enthusiastic replies stopped her from asking her next question, of if anyone wanted to go there with her. So, she sidled away before any of them asked her if she wanted to join them in the usual parties that went on in random quarters at night, fed by illicit alcohol. 

I wonder if he's one of the scientists who has a still, to make alcohol?

She sidled away from the group, without them even noting that she had left. Shifting away and over to where the trolleys were kept.  Consulting her datapad, going through the day's jobs, loading the trolley up with all of the necessary chemicals, so that she wouldn't have to come back here, except to roll it back, last thing in the evening, just before she clocked off. All of the chemicals and accoutrements for the day were collected. A quick double check was done, making certain that everything that she needed to complete her duties were loaded onto her trolley. Then she was off and away. She nodded at her supervisor, gifting him a generous smile. Noting how his permanent frown did not change at her gift. His frown caused her smile to widen, as she scuttled out of the office and away.

So odd… Why did I only receive that message about the library and no-one else did…?

She shrugged to herself, as she scurried away to her first job.

Must be just some admin blip. It's not like it's not happened before. 

She remembered the emails about vouchers for free massages that had gone out to everyone, instead of just to those who had won one off of one of the physios here. 

The poor woman was inundated with all sorts of offers… And some of them were not very appropriate, so I heard…

She paused and checked her list of jobs for the day, hoping that one was near to the location of the up until recently, unheard of library. Planning what to do if one of them was. Planning what to do in the mess hall later and tomorrow. Debating whether to push her luck, or to stay where she was earlier and to keep her five table distance for the day. Musing over both of her quandaries, while she hurried to her first job of the day. A job that was all the other side of the city from the main tower. 

I know where to go to find out what I need. I just need the time to do so! Maybe if I finish work early today, I can go there!

Chapter Text

He woke, sweating, his sheets sodden, gasping for breath. A long shower, going over his allowed quota of water, was taken, before he headed off to his lab. Showing up with red eyes and darkened rings underneath them. His mood did not dissipate, it did the opposite, when he saw Rodney McKay waiting for him. Sitting at his desk. Tapping away at his laptop. Their bickering tirades seemed to occur every day now, ever since he had seen her fall in the mess hall and he had done nothing to aid her. 

"Well, well, well! Look who's been burning the candle at both ends again, Zelenka! You should go get some sleep, before you cause another mistake here and send us off to a strange galaxy or call the Wraith down on us. Again!" 

Radek turned a thundercloud-dark glare towards McKay. Muttering several harsh, depreciative nouns and verbs and adjectives that described in graphic detail his birthing and his parents and how he was endowed, or not. All were stabbed out with bared teeth, before he stormed off, stamping off, with a shake of his head and long, fluffy hair, with a derogatory wave of his hands, just for good measure. Heading off to the mess hall to see if he could ease his anger with a decent meal. 

But his rage was not placated, it was raised higher, by McKay following him there to the mess hall. Radek's anger peaked, when, while he sat at their usual table, McKay insisted on teasing him about that nonsense gossip with Private Cooper.

Who told Rodney about that! It will be all over the city now! As that man loves gossip like a dog loves a bone and he will chew at it like a dog with a bone too!

His mood stayed blackened and sharp, continuing, as they finished their meal. Carrying on, as they walked out of the mess hall and along a corridor down to the ZPM room.

This time, though, their spat was interrupted and paused, when he rounded a corner and spotted her there. 

Her!

Right in front of him. Appearing as the angel had appeared to the Virgin Mary. 

He swallowed and blinked at her, as she stood there. She seemed to be peering at a wall where some tendrils of an out of control off-world plant had rampaged up the wall, only being stopped by the judicious use of a flame thrower. The use of which had led to a short circuit of the electrics behind that panel, that had zapped the flame thrower holder and several other people. Not fatally though. He had rushed to the scene and switched the power off. A fix has been instigated by himself, to accommodate the circuitry disruption. But his quick work had been undone by McKay, when the senior scientist had altered the electrics in the area himself. But McKay's fix had not taken into account Radek's earlier one and had caused one of the circuits that fed the lights in the area to overload. Which in turn had caused some poor fellow to be zapped as he passed by. Not fatally though. That was what the waved-hand, heated argument was about this morning. 

Here though, in that corridor, Radek quietened his anger, he ignored McKay and focused on her instead. Watching her as she peered around herself, looking anywhere but at him. 

Look at me, Myško… Turn! See me! I cannot stop! Yet again, work will lead me away, so you do not have long, I do not have long! Turn! Look!

He held his breath and trod onwards. Keeping pace with McKay. Treading closer and closer, not listening to whatever nonsense the great Rodney McKay was excusing his error with.

He watched her freeze. He watched her hug herself. She kept her gaze lowered. Not looking at him, even though he pleaded and wished and hoped. One last prayed, whispered under his breath. Uttered to Adalbert of Prague and St Jude of the lost causes. 

Something worked, maybe Jude heard him? Something occurred. Something pulled her gaze up, so that she peered out from beneath her long, lovely, lowered lashes at him. 

He blinked as bright blue met green and brown and amber. His cheeks heated, as she smiled at him. Catching him. Lassoing him. Capturing him. Trapping him there and then.

Krásné… Anděl… Pokušení…

He offered her a small nod. It was all that he could muster, as the lightning of her smile fried his circuitry. It was all he could gift her. Confirmation and acknowledgement that he was there and so was she. The zap of her smile hit him hard and reminded him. Smacking him upside the head to do more than a small nod. A bright, wide smile was sent her way too, following after his nod. He held her gaze for the count of five steps. The number of steps that it took for him to pass her by and walk away from the blessed sight of her. 

Myško… 

"Are you even listening, Zelenka!"

"I am, McKay! And I have yet to hear your apology, for your ruining my fix! For causing all of this mess!" He waved his arms and continued on his angered way, accompanying McKay to Woolsey's office, so that an explanation could be made for this morning's disruption. 

Her bright smile, the way she had smiled at him… A coquettish look, a batting of beautiful eyelashes. It fueled him. It turned the rage into strength. He walked with a bounce to his step and a smile to his swears. 

McKay will not get away with this! Not again! I will not take the fall for him here again!

-

That sweet smile. A shared gaze, as he passed her in the corridor. It fueled him for days. Calming his mood. Causing others to look at him with a frown, as he didn't have the usual swear words wafting around his crown of fluffy hair.

Something else caused his smile to widen too. He hadn't noticed her while he was eating his breakfast and arguing with Rodney. He was too busy, he only noticed her when he left, as he turned back, to see what Sheppard wanted of him, as he was leaving, after a short, bicker-filled working lunch, a day after that miniscule corridor interaction. He caught a brief glanced sight of her, before the Colonel led him away and out of the mess hall to discuss matters pertaining to what he had found out about the algorithm to check employees and police records. 

But that brief glanced sighting of her had told him so much. 

She is back in the mess hall. Not staying away anymore. 

She wasn't looking up at him, but he saw her, head bowed, staring at her datapad. Back in the mess hall, but not back to her usual seat, two tables from him. She was five tables away, but she was there.

A good sign, even if it is a small one.

-

At lunch, he couldn't see her anywhere in the mess hall. 

Typical! I have time to sit and eat and she is not here! 

"What do you think about our Rodney here, and the new object of his affections, Zelenka?"

"What was that?" Radek turned his attention back to where his name had been mentioned and away from the empty seat, two tables away and the lack of her anywhere in the mess hall.

"I mean, you probably know him the best out of all of us, spending all your time together in whatever lab, doing sciency things," Sheppard added to his vague words with an equally vague wave of his hand.

"I'm not so certain about that. You and he seem close too." 

"Yeah, but you've known him longer, from before here?"

"No. I knew of him. But not him him."

"Hmmm… Anyway, back to the question at hand. What do you think, do you think that he needs a little helping hand, a little push, or…?"

"Rodney?"

"Yeah."

"And…? Doctor Brown has gone back to Earth, hasn't she?"

"That's old news, Zelenka. You need to keep up!"

"Keep up? With Rodney's love life? I have better things to do than gossip about him and whoever it is he's chasing after this time."

"Doctor Keller."

"What? But I thought that… " Radek glanced at Ronon, who had just spoken and was devouring a huge, piled up plate of chicken. 

"Like I said," Sheppard interjected, "you need to keep up with the gossip, Zelenka!"

"I would rather not! There is too much of that nonsense swirling around the city and it does no-one any good!"

"Maybe…? Maybe not…?"

"I agree with Doctor Zelenka!" Ronon growled out.

"You do?" Radek glanced over at the tall, sullen warrior who towered over him when they stood next to each other and made him very nervous, not knowing what to say to someone with no commonalities and who could probably snap him in half with one hand.

"Yea… This place is just too full of gossip!"

"Ah, you only hate it, Ronon, because it's about McKay and Doctor Keller, who you've got your eye on too." Sheppard added.

"Maybe…" Ronon sulked, going silent again, concentrating on his food.

"So, is there anyone who you've got your eye on, Doc?" Sheppard asked.

"What? Me?" Radek squeaked. Coughing after a too high pitched indignation that he hoped did not give anything away. Blinking, with too wide eyes, up at the Colonel's smirk. He coughed again and swallowed, before attempting to give a more coherent, less squeaked-out answer. Not wanting his next words to be as high-pitched as the previous one. "Me? No. No. I do not have time for such things. Not with…"

"With…?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Fluffy hair flew around his head as it shook too vigorously.

"Aw, come on Doc, you can't leave me hanging like that!"

"I can!"

"If you've no-one here, do you have anyone back on Earth then? I don't think you've taken any leave there yet, since we've been here, well, not that I noticed, not that I'm counting or anything, but… You and McKay, you don't seem to go back to Earth, voluntarily. So…?"

"There's no-one back on Earth," Radek answered. "Well… There's my sister, Evzenie, and her son… She has my brother to look out for her. She doesn't need me there."

"You don't have any of your own, back there?"

"Any…?"

"Children?"

"Children? Oh, no, no!"

"I remember reviewing the recordings to send back to Earth and you ended yours on a sweet little endearment that I had translated, just to check for security and all that. It didn't sound like it was for any sister…"

"It wasn't." Drž se, miláčku…

"So, you do have someone on earth then?"

"No."

"But you just said that—"

"Not any more."

"Ah. Sorry about that."

"Work," Radek sighed. "Here… the city… Wraith, Genii, sundry other things… It all gets in the way of… everything else…"

"Yeah… It all has a way of doing that…"

"I heard something…" Ronon spoke up, pulling the other two men, the scientist and the soldier, to snap their attention back to him. He smiled at both of them, a predatory thing, sharp, gifted in-between consuming his piled-up plate of chicken. Watching one's curiosity and the other's fear, writ upon their two faces.

"About…?" Sheppard asked.

Radek stayed silent.

"Doctor Zelenka," Ronon smirked.

"Oh…?" Shepard smiled 

"What did you hear!" Zelenka glared.

"That you might have your eye on someone, Doc."

"Me? Haha!" Radek felt his face heat and sweat trickle down his back. 

"Spill, Zelenka!" 

Radek looked from the eager face of Colonel Sheppard to the wide smirk of Ronon Dex and pushed his glasses up his nose with shaking fingers.

"Uh… I just remembered that I have something to do somewhere else and I need to go. Right now! Goodbye!" He stood. Leaving his half-eaten lunch. Fleeing. Running from the truth and the gossip and himself. 

Kurva!

Chapter Text

That smile. His smile in the grimy corridor. It fed her bravery. It pushed her to take a deep breath and creep back to him. To narrow the distance that she had been keeping from him. A distance that her shame, at her stupidity, had caused her to do. 

Her meals were taken in the mess hall once more. Sitting five tables away from him and his table that first morning. The first breakfast after that corridor-pass. Staring at him. Trying not to stare at him. Gazing through the first of bodies that blocked her view, until he left, without seeing her, so she left too.

Lunch was skipped, because she wanted to finish work early and investigate the library. That plan was scuppered though, as her last job had her busy until past eight, where she was assigned to a team who were cleaning up a sewage spill. Apparently it was an upgrade that had gone awry, according to what she overheard scurrying between jobs. Her dinner was a cereal bar in her quarters, eaten after a long, long shower. 

That smile. His smile. It led her to ignore her shame at her fall and porridge-covered flee from him. Another deep breath was taken the next day, when she seated herself not five tables away, but four, at breakfast. Creeping closer. Sitting four tables away for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner too. Trying not to feel despondent, when he didn't appear for any of that day's meals. 

The next day, at breakfast, that smile shifted her again. That smile. His smile, it gifted her an extra dollop of bravery and moved her to sit three tables away from his usual table. Even though he wasn't there. 

At lunch the same day, his smile gave her a gift back when she noted that a table two away from his usual place was empty. She took a deep breath and took herself and her lunch and slid into a seat two tables away from where he usually sat. But her fear held her back and didn't allow her to fully fall back to her old routine. She seated herself with her back to where he should be, two tables away from her. 

Cheese salad sandwiches were opened and taken out of their plastic packaging. The lettuce was fussed with and a piece of cheese was taken out from between the soft, white bread and nibbled upon. Her sandwiches were sighed at, as, when she had sat down, she noted that he was not there, at his usual table. Her bravery was not rewarded. 

Her lunch was not even half-finished, but she shifted, having had enough. Pushing herself to sit up from her hunched over slouch and to grip the edges of her tray. Readying herself to leave and hurry off to the office.

I've dallied here too long already and—

She sat there. A voice halted her and had her gripping her tray all the tighter. 

Is it…?

A deep voice. 

Is it…? 

Accented. 

Could it be…? 

Unmistakable.

It is!

She sat there. Frozen. Waiting. Hearing his voice, along with those of his usual colleagues, grow louder, while they neared where she sat, staring at nothing, a mouse caught, trapped, by the sound of a nearing Czech juggernaut.

She sat there. Back to him. Listening. Not seeing. Wanting to turn. But not wanting to. Her quota of bravery had been used up for the day. So she stayed there, as she was. Frozen to her seat. Gripping her tray. Listening. Staring at nothing and no-one. Wide-eyed. Face burning. Not daring to turn and move to see him. Keeping her back to him. Keeping her bravado leashed by her fear. Her sandwiches were pulled apart with shaking fingers, nibbled on, a pretence at eating, so that she could keep her seat, her churning, roiling stomach keeping her from properly having her lunch, as she listened. 

She sat there. Glad that she had chosen to seat herself with her back to his table. Not yet daring to face him. Taking her full lunch hour there, sat with her back to where he was sitting. Not looking. Not daring to look. Mumbling a hello and a goodbye at everyone else who asked to share her table and came and went while she stayed and tried not to turn and stare, as she wished to do.

She sat there. Arguing with her fear. Telling herself and it that it would be far easier, if she just turned around. But her fear won out, telling her not to be stupid. Telling her that it was too soon. Telling her not to do that. Not to move. So she kept her head lowered, bowed, while nibbling on her lunch. Using her hair, allowing her fringe and the tufts of it that had escaped her clip to fall down and to hide the burning brand of what she felt and knew, from the heat of it, would be a bright, red, glowing face. 

She sat there. Listening. It was all that she could do. Listening to the inflections and lilts in his voice. Trying to filter his voice out from everyone else's in the busy, bustling space. Taking comfort from the brief snatches of his voice that she could hear. Wondering if he would notice her. 

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice, close by, too close by, made her jump. She peered up, recognising that voice too. Peering up. Seeing a frown that she recognised too. Seeing her supervisor point at the seat opposite her.

"No… I'm just finishing here… I've got several work tickets to finish…"

Her supervisor nodded. Staying silent, as she gathered her half-eaten lunch up onto her tray. "Um… Goodbye…" She stood, making to leave.

"Do you always sit here?"

"What?" She froze.

"For lunch."

"Um… Sometimes… Not really though… It's… I just sit where there's space… Like everyone else…" His silence after her obvious answer had her fidgeting. Not knowing what to do. "I'll… I've… I need to… I've got to go. Work…"

"Yes. Work. Goodbye."

She took that dismissal and scurried away. Not waiting for anything else. Only turning to look back, as she put her tray on the rack. Noticing how her supervisor was staring ahead of him. Frowning at the table in front of him, two tables away, where a scientist and black-clad soldier, the colonel were walking away and out. 

-

She lay in her bed that night. Sighing. Frowning. Huffing. Scrunching her face up. Grabbing her pillow. Screaming into it. Then throwing it away. Lying like a big letter X on her bed. The last letter of a sharp, hard word, laughed at her. It was one of many words that ran around her head that night.

Sex. 

Primal. An action fed by something that clung to the branches or sand or sea of ancestors. It had two siblings. 

Lust. 

She shivered at its sharp bluntness.

Blatant. Animalistic. Brutal. Instinctual. A club. To hit someone around the head with and carry them away. 

Easy to see. Easy to feel. Easy to take up and understand. A physical thing. Harsh. Hurtful. Hard-hitting.

A hard club that you can see plainly and either wield and hit with or take action against and hide away from. Those two words shouted out their intentions, making it easy to learn how to be able to hide from. Swerving from that harsh hit with ease. 

Then there was the last sibling. A softer, sneakier one. 

Desire. 

Something smoother and sharper, not as blunt. Something slick-spoken, more refined. The jagged club was smoothed and sharpened to a thin point. So that it slipped and slid easier into where it needed to go. 

A sharp, shining blade, that crept up on you, rather than a blunt club. 

Harsh things. All three. Horrible words that led to other things. All three spoke loud and clear as to what they wanted. Shouting or whispering with either blunt words, or pointed actions. Their faces were seen and well understood. Those three harsh things were plain to see and defend against. They could be parried and blocked, stopped or ignored.

But there was another.

A soft emotion. The softest of them all. Rose-tinted and scented and beautiful to behold. But it had sharp thorns too.

Love… 

That emotion was a more nebulose thing. A silken thing. Walking around in a whispered temptation that breezed around and showed up or vanished upon a whim. Random. Uninvited. Wanted. But not. Trapping one in its gilded, gliding net. Arriving like a bolt out of the blue. 

Lightning…

That last one, the golden emotion that everyone sought and wished for or feared, it was far more difficult to understand. Like smoke in the wind. Or the whoosh of a slashing knife. You never heard of its approach. A soft breeze might be the only warning you get, before that sharp blade sunk into your over-heated flesh. Or it attacked you all at once. Overwhelming you. Fast.

Lightning! 

And once struck, you couldn't pull the thorn or blade out without doing more damage. 

Love… 

It blurred your vision. Making everything fuzzy and soft spoken around the edges. It blended in with and hid within other things that mimicked it, like the siblings of desire and lust.

Infatuation! 

That too. It hid in that room too. Making it so easy to miss and skip over and difficult to pin down or defend against. 

Love… 

It hid its happy, shameful, fearful, staring, gazing, wishful face. 

Love…

A lightning fast, 'blink and you will miss it' thing. Subtle. Easy to feel. Easy to miss, if you weren't looking. But it was sharper than any sword, deadlier than any machine gun. So very powerful, especially for those involved in its wars. 

Love had one weakness though. She knew that. She lived like that and had been trapped in its maw once before. After that, after escaping, scathed and scarred, in tatters and tears, she had caged that prowling and growling beast. Or so she had thought. She had kept it hidden and unbidden, up until that moment. Up until that touch in the cavernous, crowded gate hall. She knew what to do, what to hide. To keep anything and everything hidden deep, down inside, so that no-one else had the opportunity to observe those small oddities, those slight changes in behaviour or character that always gave one away. 

It was far easier to hide such direct things as lust and desire. That much she knew. 

But this? Love…? No… I can't… It hurt so much when it, when…

That one hid other things, different from its sharp-tanged relatives though. Causing people to make mistakes, to overlook weaknesses, as it made them blind to such things. Causing people to do horrible, awful things. But it caused people to do such brave things too, to protect those in danger. It wielded a double-edged, sharp sword, forged from lightning, made to give life and to kill.

Love!

She grabbed her pillow and shook her head. Swearing to herself. Refusing herself and those stupid feelings.

No!

She knew well enough how love lay hidden. Dwelling in small gestures. Such as that one touch, that one smile, in the gateroom. Innocent touches and gazes. It was in the nothing that was taken and given, but full to the brim of everything. It was a soft touch, a delicate nothing, small, fleeting. Exactly like how his fingers had brushed against her, when they were both in the midst of the crowded gate hall and again in the heaving mess hall. 

Lightning!

She shifted herself. Moving so that she could run her fingers over where he had touched her. So long ago. So clearly. In the gateroom. Then again, in the mess hall. Her fingers ran where he had left his brand, where he had left his lingered touch and a hazy, fuzzy, quickly shifted, but slow-felt moment that had lasted seconds in reality, but had stayed with her for the lifetime of today and yesterday and tomorrow. Living in all of her sighed distractions since she had stepped through the gate and lightning had struck.

Lightning…

Her fingers shifted and she touched her right hand, stroking her fingers where he had touched her. Repeating, recreating that motion, that movement that she had partaken in. 

Maybe not willingly, maybe so? Don't ask me! I don't know… I don't… Why me?

The effect of what should have been an ordinary, normal touch was anything but called for, or wanted or needed. It was a distraction. It had come like a stab in the dark, out of nowhere. Killing all other of her senses, so that there, in that moment, there was his touch, his smile, a link, binding them together in a space where no gate, no Atlantis, no anyone or anything else existed. They were two beings standing in a wormhole, the kaleidoscope colours flashing a warning and a welcome around them, as she stared at him and he at her. He had gifted her a touch and then both were there, in that short moment that had lasted a lifetime. They had touched for mere seconds, and he had offered her a feast that fed a starving woman. He held her, she held him, for seconds, until their touch ended and the sweetest of connections had been broken, until the event horizon of that wormhole was reached and trodden through. 

And here she was, in a new place, a mysterious place, not quite unknown though. 

I've been here before, but in the dead of darkness instead… 

A shiver ran through her at the reason she had signed up for this, the reason for this escape. A shiver that caused her to hug her pillow. 

Here I am now…

Here she sat. In her quarters. Sitting on her bed. Cross-legged. Hugging her pillow. In the dead of night. In an ancient city, thousands of years old, but looking like something from the distant future. Sitting and smiling in the liminal, crepuscular space of dusk or dawn of something new. Sitting within the space created by a new feeling. Sitting where neither light nor dark shone. Sitting, unmoving, where she could choose which to head towards - light or dark. Sitting on a path, a fork before her. Needing to choose whether to continue on, as she was, walking her path alone, or to choose to walk with someone else. Needing to choose whether to hide in the night, or revel in the light of that criminal, curious, soft, harsh, deadly, beautiful emotion. 

What a choice. 

What an offer. 

What an awful, marvelous, terrible, tear-filled, fear-filled offer! I've been here before. But do I do what I did then, or…?

An offer that her dreams appeared to have accepted. As they were particularly interesting and involved him saying that word to her. 

Myško… 

Spoken in a particular way. Not with those harsh, hard things. Not with sex or lust or desire. But while his voice and his touch travelled all through and over her body, exploding her innocence, while she promised something similar to him. A dream of a stupid, dangerous emotion that would make or break her. Soothing her and smashing her to smithereens at the same time. Causing her to cry or gasp out, to cry out and call out for it to go and stay and strike her again and again and again. A dream of an emotion that had her waking and panting and gasping as she pushed sweaty strands of her hair away from her face as he called to her.

Myško… 

That sort of sweaty, distracting, floating, nebulous dream, she knew the meaning of it. It was not one that she had felt in such a long time. Not since she had severed the link to her past and had decided to leave the country of her birth and sign up for something that she did not expect. 

How can he pull such thoughts and dreams from me when I only know him from a few words, two touches and a smattering of smiles?

Chapter Text

She's there! She's back! But five tables away…? Not…?

That fact. The five-table wide chasm between them. It caused his smile to flit between widening and wavering. He noticed her sitting there for breakfast. Sitting, staring at her tray, every time the crowd thinned and he was gifted a glance of her. His view of her was blocked. Then she was gone. But she had been there. 

Her… 

He fretted all day over that change. Becoming distracted. Shouted at and shouting over work that should compel and absorb and occupy all of his everything.

She's back, but why five tables, is something, has something, have I, do I need to…? I need to make certain to take lunch there to check!

She wasn't there for lunch. Or dinner. 

I wasn't imagining things, was I? No… No! She was back! But… Did I need to do something, or…? Kurva! This is so… He added an internal scream to his thoughts.

All day, he flip-flopped between growling in Czech at anyone who came near him, growling like a high-alert Bohemian Sheppard and sighing, staring at nothing, tapping the same key on his keyboard over and over again at the duality of that fact. 

A good one, a smile, a sigh, a stupid, soppy look on his face: she was back. 

A bad one, a frown darkened his face, a growl, a glare: she was too far away. 

Things were back, but they weren't quite back as they were before.

Late that night, he huffed at his blank screen. Blank, where there should be pages and pages of code by now. Grumbling to himself, as with a flick of his feet, he spun his wheeled chair over to another desk, a practiced move, then rummaged in the desk drawer there, pulling out a cereal bar. Another push, and he wheeled himself back to his main desk, in his lab, in his refuge. The cereal bar was nibbled on, as he sipped at his cold coffee and started typing. Coding a new routine to fix the frazzled circuitry in that corridor where he had seen her the day before.

-

The next day, he didn't have time to eat in the mess hall. Only having time to nip in and gather some food, before getting back to his work. His breakfast, lunch and dinner would need to be consumed in his laboratory. He was too busy to stop and waste time there. But he knew that she was there, on the second day after he had smiled at her and been smiled at by her in that corridor. He knew. Even without looking. His keen gaze scanned the hall and there she was. His smile flickered back to life, when he spotted that she was sitting not five tables away, but four, as he flitted in, taking his meals away to be eating in his lab. Not having time to dawdle, not with his work needing to be finished yesterday. But making time to go back for lunch and dinner that day. Just to check that what he had seen at breakfast that day wasn't a sleepless-night, Wraith-induced mirage. When he walked into the mess hall for the third time that day, for dinner, he knew that she was there again. He stared at where she was sitting, four tables away from where McKay and Sheppard were sitting and chatting with Ronon.

She is back, but not quite… Not quite…

He frowned at how she had moved closer to where he would usually be seated with his colleagues. But he didn't join the colonel and the scientist, he couldn't, as his work took priority over socialising that day. Even the allure of schnitzel day couldn't make him stay, one of his favourites. 

I have too much work to do… Too much! Rodney would say it is too quiet with the Wraith busy fighting each other, the Replicators gone and the Genii suspiciously silent, but there's so many other things, routine maintenance to catch up on. And then, there's this 'diplomatic mission' I have to go on, that Rodney is not interested in, saying it is too boring, beneath him that I am the head of Engineering here, so I should go. He conveniently remembers that I am head of my own department here when it suits him!

His smile fell, as he took his laden tray of food and traipsed back to his lab and his calculations.

The next day, the third day after her corridor smile, on his breakfast-time, food-gathering foray, those same, fluffy nape hairs stood up and tingled and tickled and told him that she was there. His smile was already writ upon his face, as he scanned the space. Noting how she was moved again. Sitting three tables away from where he usually would be seated. His bright smile widened at that information. Causing him to skip away from the mess hall. Smiling, laughing, not seeing the elbow nudges and rotated-finger, cuckoo-gestures that were sent his way, behind his back, as he passed by, whistling, on his way back to his lab.

Back in his lab, he stuffed toast in his mouth, as he powered through his work, cursing at the irony of him allowing toast crumbs to fall into his keyboard. Making time for himself. Working his way through the calculations. Hitting the 'Return' keyboard on his keyboard and allowing himself a full three-hundred and sixty degree spin on his chair, as the programme was set to running and was working, no errors. Allowing a smirk and a grin to appear on his face, at the knowledge that he had just made time for himself to go and have lunch away from his desk. The programme would take an hour, no, an hour and a half to run. Plenty of time for him to enjoy taquito Tuesday in the mess hall. 

I need to know. I need to check. I need to make certain that things were really, truly moving back to as they were before porridge-a-geddon! 

He stood, tray in his hands, gazing at where she was sitting. The distance that she had been keeping had vanished. She had come back to him in the mess hall. Not five tables away. Not four. Not three. No. She was back in her usual place of being seated two tables away from him. Far enough away so that he would not scare her away with his ineptitude on these sorts of things. Yet near enough to her, to be able to watch her through the forest of other arms and bodies. 

As he made his way to his seat, he couldn't help but frown though. One small detail was missing.

Why is she sitting with her back to me? Is something wrong? Do I need to do something to—

"Are you all done, Zelenka?"

"What?" Radek glared up at Mckay and his question.

"With your program for the re-routing sub-routine. I mean, I could have done it, but you insisted and—"

"It is running as we speak. A walk in the cake park!"

"Hmmph!" McKay went back to shovelling his food into his mouth.

Radek went back to wondering, as he too shovelled his food in. While he ate, he frowned at how little he knew about her.

Does she like Taquito Tuesday or schnitzel day? Does she like Salisbury Steak? Jello? What? Coffee? Does she like coffee? Or tea…? What…?

He wondered what would make her smile at him like she had done in the corridor again. What would make her frown at him. What would bring her closer. He didn't even know what had caused her to run from him in the gate room, when she shook her head at him. Or what had really caused her to run from his hold in the mess hall, when he had helped her up, after she had fallen. He did not know what had made her keep her distance after that. 

Why would she run from me? I would not hurt her? Is she… Does she not want my attention? But then, her smile in the corridor… That was after both of those things… and here she is back to being two tables away, so… But with her back to me… What does it all mean! I cannot do this! I know I am no good at this! Give me mathematics, engineering, science any time of any day over this!

Her shaken head, her fleeing from the gate room and him. Her fall, her tumble, her running from him there too. Both times, he had chosen work over running after her and seeking her out to ask her what was the issue and if it was him. Both times, he could have aided her, but work won his attention and he had stayed away.

Just like with… Work kept me here! I failed her! I lost her…  

The blame that he laid at his feet was unrelenting and kept him from taking any steps to further narrowing the distance between them from two tables to none. His equally keen self-depreciation held him back. Keeping those two tables between them. 

"Hey Doc."

"Um… Sorry…?" Radek blinked up at where Sheppard had said his name.

"Are you done?"

"What…?"

"Your food."

Radek glared at a tittering McKay. "Yes. Why?"

"I need a word."

"Oh. Yes. Of course."

"Hey, I can help, I'm free!" McKay piped up.

"That's okay Rodney, it's Zelenka I need for this," Sheppard motioned for Radek to follow him.

Radek scurried after the colonel, gifting her a last glance, over his shoulder, seeing her standing at the tray racks, placing her tray there, not looking at him, before he left the busy room.

"Oh…" McKay frowned.

"No need to be jealous, McKay, I'm sure that the Colonel hadn't replaced you in his affections," Ronon added, as the Colonel and Radek moved off and away, out of the mess hall.

"What? No! I mean…" McKay felt his face heat, as he heard Ronon snigger.

-

Back in his lab, after running through his latest dataset with the Colonel, going over what the latest round of background checks had shown, which was nothing. And also being told of what he would need to bring with him for the up-coming mission that he, not Rodney would be going on, him being the resident Head of Engineering, and having experience, even if it was ill-fated, of Genii nuclear reactors. 

Radek settled back in his lab, at his desk. Frowning at the green flashing screen. He should be smiling at the successful set of calculations. But they were ignored. Instead, he frowned at his thoughts. Going over what he knew. Adding up, totting up all of their interactions so far.

That one touch in the gate hall. Her smile there too… Lightning! Then there was her smile when I saw her when I stood in the control room, her nod, as she worked and I had been her watchdog and kept the soldier's leering at bay and away from her! Holding her hands in mine, in the mess hall after she fell, where lightning had struck twice, before she fled from me. Her smile in the corridor as I passed her by. That was her brightest smile so far!

All of those tiny interactions, they had made his life so much worse than it was, yet they also made it so much better at the same time. For him. And her too. For both of them, judging by how she was and how she acted. 

Myško… The frightened mouse. When she has nothing to fear… She stays close, yet keeps herself away too. Sitting two tables away. A distance that I enforce too!

She had smiled at him, beckoning him closer. Yet there was her shaken head, telling him no, in the gate hall. Then she had run from him when he had helped her, with the porridge covered tablet.  

And today! Back at her usual table, but with her back to me. Why…? It is all so confusing!

That was the worst thing and that was the best thing too. 

It is… Does it mean that she does not say yes to me, even if she does not say no either!

His mind kept going back to that first heated, freezing, kaleidoscopic fantasy of colours in the gate hall, where something had happened to him. 

And maybe her too. From how she mentioned the lightning… And there was that second touch, a second lightning strike and her words, her question, after I helped her up in the mess hall, before she ran from me… 

Lightning had struck twice and they had another shared moment. It had ended awfully, but with those two touches, he had taken a Stargate to somewhere that he had never been before. 

The gate has taken me somewhere strange, carrying me, carrying her, carrying us both, to somewhere new, maybe? But where though! 

Oddly, there was the fact that he seemed to know when she was near him, or not near him. 

I knew to go and help her in the gate hall. I knew when to stand at the balcony in the control room. I knew to stand, that she was there, seeking something, even though she shook her head at me… and work stopped me from running after her… And in the mess hall, when she fell, when I went to help her, I knew… What did I know? How did I know?

He scratched at the back of his neck. Wondering how he had known, before he stepped into the mess hall, whether she would be there or not. 

What is the word… Sladil? In English… conforming? No… Linked… Not quite. Tuned into? No… Attuned? Yes… I am attuned to her? Ugh! This is all so…

His fingers ran through the soft hair of his nape.

But is she to me? Are we a binary star, circling around each other? Where sooner or later, those two stars collide, as they always did. Or are we two separate planets doomed to fall into a black hole and vanish without meeting?

And if we collide… would that collision be one that destroys us and kills the lightning that lives within me? That she placed there?

The lightning that doused the flames and heat and colours and melted the frost that had fired his senses when she touched him that first time and tied the thread of a new wormhole between them. 

Or will our meeting create something new, something brighter? Something larger than the both of us? Will the lightning, the fire, the promise that she handed to me, come true? Or will it fizzle out to leave nothing but a memory of something that could have been?

All were questions that buzzed around his head, as he worked. Intruding into his calculations, threatening his work, threatening everything.

-

"Imbecil!" He accused himself of being thus, as he lay on his bed, in his quarters that night.

There wasn't much to look at, as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling. A plain room. Not even tiled. No pattern. He closed his eyes and pictured the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, of one of them anyway. The wood-framed house they lived in, before it had burned down. The ceiling there was interesting. A swirling mix of woodgrains. The ceiling of the tent that was their next abode, had almost been alive. Billowing and flapping in the wind, weighed down by the snow on top. His father and uncles had rebuilt their home, but they had not stayed there long. They were moved, with everyone else, into the communal tower blocks in the cities. His bedroom in the family apartment in the grand city of Prague, had been plain, regulation white. The ceiling there was patterned with swirls made by the concrete that the building was mostly constructed from.

He huffed and opened his eyes again. Glaring up at the plain ceiling that held no swirls to learn, or tiles to count, to take his mind off of what could not be. 

Plain! Boring! Just like I am!

Another huff and he turned, lying on his side, curling up, hugging himself, frowning to himself.

I need to concentrate on this stupid upcoming mission, or 'excursion' as Colonel Sheppard keeps calling it! Ha! Excursion! That makes it sound like a fishing trip or camping trip! Which it most definitely will not be! Just like the last 'excursion' that I went on. The last 'excursion' I was roped into, in exactly the same way as this time. Genii! Ha! With Rodney refusing, saying he is too busy. So, I need to stop thinking of other things and set my head up properly. And not… 

He squeezed his eyes closed. Pushing away memories of being shot at, threatened with kidnap, torture and everything that he'd been threatened with as a boy, youth and young man in his homeland, before the Communist party had been ousted.

They don't know… They don't understand! 

He shook his head, swiping at his eyes. Pushing old and newer memories that blurred and grew fuzzy at their overlapped boundaries. Running from there, from those horrors, he flew, he fled into the comfort of an imbalance of brain chemistry caused by her. 

Ridiculous! It's nonsense! I cannot be… No! I know the science! Admittedly, biology is not my strongest of subjects, nor is chemistry, but I know enough to know what is causing these symptoms! Nothing more! Not… Yet… Her… But… She smiled at me… In that corridor…

A sigh dropped from him and he did what he always did to comfort himself now. He ran his long left forefinger along his right one. Mimicking that first touch. Their first touch. Closing his eyes, reliving the lightning that had zinged up his arm, into his chest when she had touched him that first time. An unintentional moment. An unintended connection. Something tiny, small, a nothing. But one that was undeniably huge, enormous, significant.

I'm playing catch-up again here! Like I had to when I went to university! And had to learn a decade's worth of technology and computing that my Western co-students all took for granted as they grew up with such things in their homes, their schools. At least there were text books where I could teach myself everything I needed to know. But with this… With her… There's no books, no lessons, no learning. Other than what I already know. Which isn't much… And what I do know of this… I know where it leads. And I can't do that again… 

He rolled again, moving onto his back. Fisting his hands at his sides. Glaring up at the plain ceiling.

It's a distraction! I cannot afford to go there! But… 

He puffed out a sigh. Softening his face. Brushing long fingers against each other.

But I need that distraction. Right now, I need that. Ordinarily, work would keep me busy. But work only reminds me of what happened and what might come again with this 'excursion' and with those three bodies… How does the saying go? Out of the frying pan and into the burning fire? Stuck between two rocks? Ha! 

He closed his eyes and stroked his fingers while he pictured her shy smile. Remembering how she peered up at him through her eyelashes at that first moment, in front of the gate, with everyone crowded around them. Revealing big, wide eyes as she opened her gaze to him. Allowing him to see bright hazel, almost green eyes.

Cat's eyes for a little mouse! But why… Why did those cat's eyes look at me like that? Why did they smile at me like that? Why…?

You know why, the anděl on his shoulder told him. You saw her smile.

It was just a smile! He shook the praise off, playing the part of his own personal ďábel. 

No. It was a true smile. One that reached her eyes. One that was accompanied by a touch. You felt it, did you not?

I did… That was… Her touch… She didn't shy from me, she even returned my clumsy touch with a brush of her fingers too. That has never happened before! 

So you see!

Yes… He nodded to himself. But… I don't know… it's been a long time since… 

The ďábel on his shoulder smirked at him.

No. I've no time for this! There's so much work here! The Wraith! The 'excursion' to the Genii homeworld! And now, on top of all that, there's a killer on the loose! I've no time for such dalliances! And anyway, why should I partake in something so short term as that!

As what? 

A fling! A one off thing! he huffed to himself. What did McKay call it? Rumpy-pumpy? Hanky-panky? A bit of 'hows your father', but I don't understand that one, what's my father got to go with anything! He's dead! Like anything to do with that, with me!

No. Lightning. It struck. Twice. There can be no doubt. 

No. I'm not… I don't want that… I can't. And anyway. Who would want the likes of me, when there's a whole city of Captain Kirks to choose from!

Yet it was you that the lightning struck and chose. Do you not see?

It… I don't know… I'm not… I am the shy little mouse here, not her! I don't know how this works! I've heard the others, what they say about me, I've overheard them snigger at my attempts to compliment them. I won't be trying that again!

You just need to pick the right recipient. One who's more agreeable to your beautiful words.

My mangled words, you mean!

Look at the symptoms. Do you not see? 

I do! And they can all be explained easily. By simply biology or chemistry. There's a sane explanation for all of them. It's not… 

Love?

No! You shut up! 

Love at first sight is a recognised phenomenon.

For fools who believe everything they read in those magazines! Pah! Nonsense! Not scientific at all! he gruffed, as he argued with himself.

Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe so? But the evidence is there. Even the way you're wavering tells more about the same.

How!

If you didn't care, you wouldn't be so flustered.

No! I don't want to get involved. Not with the way things are. This city is not safe, not with… the murderer lurking! And now I'm to be sent to the Genii planet and one of their pathetic excuses for a reactor that makes Chernobyl look like a children's playset! I'll be away for a long time!

Then go seek her out before you leave.

Why! So she has someone to mourn when I do not return?

No! So you will make certain to return safely. 

And even without that, people are dying every day here, with me almost dying too! The Wraith. The replicants. Rodney McKay touching things when I tell him not to! Micro asteroids! And then... Those three deaths… When none of the usual catastrophes was happening. Those poor, murdered women, that mutilated soldier… There's no police here. So it's only my team looking at forensics books to try and see what's gone on. But none of us know anything there, so… 

You read her profile didn't you?

I did. Even though I shouldn't be snooping!

So. You saw her prior career. Maybe she could help? 

Maybe… 

So go find out. Kill two beasts with one rock. 

What?

Ask for her opinion on the crime scene and ask her to join you for lunch. Or a meal of your choice. It's Salisbury Steak day again tomorrow!

Maybe… I will see! 

Good! You do that or not… And if not, then you'll have another regret to add to your long list of them.

Chapter Text

Her laptop beeped at her, so she frowned down at it. Seeing a job placed in her work queue which had the word 'URGENT' tagged to it, in capitals, marked as 'high priority' too. Marked as to be done before any others, priority one. First class priority. 

So she had finished the job that she was attending to, that morning, in double-quick time. Making certain not to be sloppy, but she had rushed to be done and away, before her datapad screamed at her again. Hurrying and scurrying off to this new, important job. Urged there by the wording of the work ticket. Even though, when she looked at the job's location, she had paused and swallowed, feeling fear laugh at her from a dark corridor, creeping up on her with quiet, tapped footfalls. Her datapad was released from her shaking hands and placed back onto her trolley. Then, after taking a deep breath or two, closing her eyes, then opening them, she hurried off to the nearest transporter. The location was selected and her eyes were closed again, as the flash of instantaneous travel hit her. Opening her eyes, when the room darkened, signalling that she had arrived. The doors opened up, not to a dark, quiet, empty corridor, but to light and confusion and noise. Her face lit up in a smile and fear fled from her, at not being alone in that deep down, far away corridor. 

She pushed her trolley out of the transporter and up to the nearest black-clad soldier who loitered nearby. Wanting confirmation that she was supposed to be there. Hoping that she would be told to go away and have this job taken from her and have a free afternoon.

It was not to be though. The white-faced soldier sent her off down the busy, bright corridor. Sending her off towards a small gathering of people. Told to speak to the one in charge. Laughing to herself, when the person in charge, Colonel Sheppard himself, turned towards where her and her trolley waited. 

Large-framed bodies hid something from her view. The hairs on her nape stood on end and the shiver that took hold of her, told her that something was not right here, in this bright corridor. She waited to be addressed by the man in charge. Glad for his and all the other's presence here, where all of her instincts screamed at her that evil had trodden and slunk along. Maybe she smiled up at that tall Colonel too brightly? Maybe that smile was laced with a mix of gratefulness and a streak of irony at the fact that she was here, about to be spoken to by him, a scenario that a large number of her colleagues in the Sanitation Department would sell their livers to be in. 

"What are you doing here!"

"Um…" She blinked in the face of frowned anger and showed the Colonel her datapad and pointed at the job that had brought her here.  

"Huh. I didn't requisition this job. Must have been… I did tell him to take care of all the paperwork. But still… Wait here. Don't move!"

She nodded, taking her datapad back from the Colonel and waited, watching while he spoke to a man with the yellow-flashes on his jacket that marked him out as being a medical doctor. Ha spoke with a soft Scottish lilt. The doctor turned away and the Colonel walked back towards her.

"You need to wait. Over there…" he pointed to the side. "I don't know why he sent you here so soon…"

They'll all be so jealous of me. Speaking to the Colonel, the one that they all wished would just see them. And yet, here I am, speaking to that Colonel, instead of those gossipy colleagues. And I'm not even the slightest bit interested in the man who's frowning down at me. Here I am, standing in front of him, nodding, while he told me to not mention what I may or may not have seen to anyone. 

She nodded again and mumbled multiple 'yes, sirs' to him, as he spoke and warned her that saying anything to anyone would do more harm than good. 

"I know how this city feeds on the gossip that flies around it! And if I hear anything, I'll know that it's you who has blabbed!"

She nodded again and offered another 'yes, sir' to the frowning Colonel. 

"You should have been sent that job afterwards…" the Colonel's frown deepened.

"Um… afterwards…?" Her question went unanswered, as the Colonel's and her gaze shifted towards movement and to where the doctor shifted and she caught sight of something that she wished that she had not. 

Her eyes widened, as she witnessed what the man with yellow-flashings on his jacket was doing. Her fingers fidgeted, as her worst fears were confirmed. Seeing the doctor zip a body up in a black body bag. But, before the dead person was covered up, she saw the body of a young woman who she did not recognise. A body with lifeless, glassy eyes staring out from a pale face. A body with their throat slit from ear to ear. Just as she knew it would be, from the evidence upon the floor that two soldiers were crudely wiping at, smearing the evidence, not clearing anything away, missing the walls entirely. Leaving enough evidence, that if she had not witnessed that body, just now, she would have deduced from the same cleaned up mess as she had seen before, that someone had died there. 

She knew that the pattern would be the same as before. The same as the first two jobs that she had been sent on. But this job was different. This time she knew, for certain, what had happened. There was no guessing. No inferring as to what had possibly gone on. She had witnessed the body first-hand this time. Watching with wide eyes, as she was told to stand back, to wait, as the body was moved past her and off towards the transporter that she had exited not long ago.

The Colonel turned back to her, after the body and the accompanying doctor had vanished into the transporter. A harsh frown darkened his face, as he spoke.

"You can get on with your job now. Clean away any evidence of what went on here. But remember. This is strictly confidential! If I hear anything, anything at all, you'll be off, back to Earth, cleaning latrines for the foreseeable!"

She nodded. "Will you…" she spoke up, her voice maybe too high pitched, stopping the Colonel from leaving. "Um… can you stay? While I…" she asked, nervous eyes peering over at the closed doors of the transporter. Her nervous tongue licked at her dry lips, as she mumbled her question out.

"Stay? Why?"

"I don't want to be alone. Here. In the corridor. After…" she shifted her feet, wondering whether to mention the noises that had spooked her, on the last job, the last time that she had tidied up after something like this had happened. But thought better of it. Deciding not to say anything that would lead to more questions from the tall, glare-faced man.

"Huh. Understandable, I guess. I'll leave two Marines with you. Just be quick about it, okay?"

"Yes. I will. Thank you." More nodding. One last glimpse over her shoulder at the closed transporter doors that hid death, before she wheeled her trolley away from the departing Colonel and over to the spot where she now knew for certain that a woman had died. Shaking hands took her UV torch out and she inspected the area. Noting where she needed to spray with the cleaners and enzymes. 

This was the same as before. Cleaning the area. 

I know how to do this. I know. I know. I know.

But now, she worked, while she knew for certain what had gone on before she had arrived here. And that thought had her nibbling on her bottom lip and peering over her shoulder at every small sound, while she waited the required amount of seconds for the chemicals to do their work. Counting down, while she waited and watched the darkness that had crept in when the Colonel and the doctor and their minions had left and had taken their bright lights away with them. 

Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…

A noise. Behind her. Along the corridor. She stared at the two soldiers. They were chatting to each other, smiling. 

Didn't they hear…?

She went back to counting.

Fifty, fourty-nine, fourty—

Another noise. A clattering. The lights flickered too. She turned to look at the two soldiers. Noting how they were silent now and frowning at the flickering lights.

"Are you done?" one of the soldiers asked her.

"What? No. Not yet… I need to—" her words were halted by another noise. Coming from along the corridor. Footsteps.

"Who's there!" one of the soldiers shouted out. "Show yourself!"

More noises. Footsteps. Receding. Running away.

"Spacerats!" the other soldier chuckled. A nerve-tinged, shaken sound, without mirth or a smile.

She forgot her count. Not caring. She grabbed a disposable towel and wiped the chemical and the evidence away. Finishing in double-quick time. A haphazard job, but she didn't care. The sloppy towels were thrown into her bin and she gathered her things up, tidying them into her trolley. Grabbing up her datapad. Typing the minimum. The 'send' button was hit, as she shivered and peered around her. Looking first one way along the dimly lit corridor, then the other. Seeing nothing. Hearing nothing. Her cleaning of the evidence was maybe done a tad quicker than she would have otherwise been done. But this was a deep, sparsely trod section of the city. 

"I'm done!" she shouted in a shaking voice, out to her two escorts. Feeling as safe as she had before, which was not very at all, as all three stared, wide-eyed, when the noises of footsteps approaching them crept out of the darkness of the corridor and the lights that lined where they stood, began to flicker. 

All three hurried to the transporter. Bundling in. Not saying anything to each other, when they exited and went about their separate ways, when back in the light of the main tower and the busy, bustling gate room.

She stared up at the control room and its glowing, bright screens that lit the area up. Hoping. Praying. Needing some cheer, after the ghosts of that last job still clung to her and swirled around her.

Is he…? Yes! He's there. 

But he was looking at a screen. Not down here. All she could see was the top of his fluffy, bowed head.

She paused, waiting, wanting to purge the sight that she had just witnessed. She was jostled, her back bumped into. Forcing her to turn away from him and to mumble an apology for being in the way. A need, a call, hairs on the back of her nape that tingled and raised, forced her to just shift to the side, instead of moving away. Little lightning strikes on the back of her neck forced her to turn, to look up. 

She shook, not with fear, but something else, something bright and hopeful, as she caught his bright, blue gaze. This time she did not disown him. This time she stood her ground. This time she drank her fill. This time she smiled up at him. Basking in the summer sunshine of his returned smile. Using it to wash the fear of what she had just witnessed away. 

Another bump against her shoulder forced her to turn away, to eclipse his summer's day. 

"You're blocking the corridor!"

"Oh, sorry, I'll…" A turn, shifting her gaze back, but he was gone. Back in the darkness, she moved off and away. But his smile glowed inside her. Shielding her from her fears, as she trundled back to the office.

For the rest of her day, she busied herself with the most mundane of jobs. Taking anything and everything that was sat there and that she knew everyone else would ick at. Cleaning toilets, food spills, where people had been ill. Anything to take her mind off of that awful job. Her last duty of the day was finished up and she sighed. Passing a balcony, pausing, noting how dark it was outside. Catching a glimpse of the multiple moons that circled their planet. Another sigh fell from her, as she knew that it was too late to head to the mess hall. She was hungry, her missed lunch caught up with her. But it was late and she was tired. A cereal bar would have to do for her dinner that night. It was also too late for her to console herself with a secret viewing of him in the mess hall. There would be no sneaky taking and making of notes to bolster her knowledge of him, that night. But she had another of his smiles to hoard away, to keep her company during what she knew would be another sleepless night. His new smile would be a well-needed bolster against the dark shadows and clattering footsteps that she knew would haunt her nightmares that night.

Her steps were slow, tired, weary, as she trudged back to the office. Wasting time dithering in the trolley room, unpacking, cleaning it of soiled tools. Holding back tears at the blood stained towels. Tipping red-tinged water from the bucket, down the drain. Staring at the crimson water, as it swirled around and vanished down the drain.

"Can you move! You're in the way!"

"Oh, sorry…" she side-stepped out of her co-worker's way, as she fretted over whether to go to the mess hall anyway, on the off-chance, because she hadn't been there all day.

If I see him again, if I'm brave and move closer… Will he speak to me? Will he smile at me again?

She hugged herself, staring at the exit.

Myško… Will he call me that again? I need to know what it means… I know what his language is, I think… but I don't understand…  

"What's the matter? What are you loitering? Keen to take more work? Ha! Always working! All work and no play will make you a dull girl! It's Independence Day specials in the mess hall today. So they've music and flags and everything!" 

She shifted away, but stayed close enough to listen to the conversation that flowed around her but did not include her, as she placed her empty bucket in the sink and cleaned it out. Then placed it back in the clean trolley.

"Well, not everything!"

"Yea, no alcohol! Killjoys!"

"Unless someone sneaks some in, like last time."

"With any luck!"

She dropped her head and her gaze away from the group of her chatting colleagues who walked past her. Ignoring their laughter, as they trod out of the exit and off and away. 

No… I'll just go back to my quarters…

She nodded to herself, making her decision, as she tidied her trolley, making it ready for tomorrow, re-stocking it.

Wait… is it too late? I might go and… they might not still be open, it's late, but I can but try… 

She exited her department and turned and went the opposite way to the mess hall. Heading to a different transporter. A location was pressed and she waited. Exiting the transporter, her curiosity sped her feet to a dusty, musty corner of the city. Scurrying off to the forgotten corner of the city where she remembered that the library was supposed to be located. Hesitating outside the open door. Seeing lights on inside, taking a step through the threshold. She sidled up to the elderly woman who sat behind a desk. 

Oh! They're open!

"Good morning, Missy. What can I do for you?"

"Um… Are you… Can I…? It's late… Are you closing up or—"

"Do you need a book?"

"Um… yes…? I had an email and…"

"Well, gosh darn, but you landed plum in the right place. If you're in need of a book, I'm open! But how come you're here and not off searching online on your datapad? Isn't that what everyone does these days?"

"Um… yes… But… The online library… It was in the induction about how what you loan from there goes via the science department before it's analysed… so that they can add in new titles based on what people look at and…" She shook her head. I don't want him to know that I'm… does it count as stalking, what I want to do…? Maybe I should just borrow a novel to read and—

"How do you know that the data from here doesn't do the same?"

"Um… does it…?"

"No. You're in luck. It just sits on your record."

"Oh…"

"But, look around you, it's not exactly a hustlin' and a bustlin' with folks in here, is it? It's not worth anyone's time to analyse the scant data generated from who borrows what from here. Even Big Brother would turn his nose up at this, eh?"

"Oh… I see…" she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"So… What is it that you want? A steamy, bodice-ripping romance to keep you company of a night? Pirates? Georgian fellas in tight britches? Hmmm… Not that you'll need that. I bet a pretty little thing like you isn't short of night-time company, eh?"

"Um… Er…" she shook her head.

"Hmmmph! Don't know what's wrong with you young 'uns these days! So, if not a bit of historical hi-jinks, maybe something more modern? Not sci-fi, as we're kinda there already. Something with dragons maybe?"

"Um… No… I need a reference book. Maybe a dictionary? One where it has English and the other language, so you can learn and translate…"

"Ah! I see! What'll it be then, honey? French, Italian, Spanish?"

"No. Um… Czechoslovakia… The language. That they speak there…? I don't…"

"Hmmm… It's either Czech or Slovakian then. Not much call for Bohemian…"

"Bohemian?"

"Historical, kinda like Latin, I guess. Either way, it's a difficult one to learn though, if you've not been exposed to it much. There aren't many here who speak either or any. So what'll it be?" 

She shuffled her feet and looked away from the librarian's piercing, one eyebrow raised smile. A smile that seemed to rifle through her mind, her thoughts, her intentions, as if her innermost reason for being here was there. All out in the open, viewable, for the librarian to oh so easily discern. Her rosy red face and shifting gaze probably didn't help.

"Um…"

"Well… Czech. That's the language you want to learn, isn't it, honey?"

She nodded. Not attempting to even try to speak. Not with a hot throat and a burning face.

"It's sweet. Learning another's language like that."

She coughed. Swallowing. Nodding again instead.

"Alright then. Now… let me see what I've got… A book for beginners… Maybe some history, some background reading I think… Or a children's learning book… Hmmm…"

"No… No… I want a dictionary, please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I am," she nodded, digging her stubborn heels in.

"Okay, honey, if you're sure…"

She nodded again and waited, fidgeting, nibbling her lip as the librarian tapped away at her computer.

"Ah… Here we are. A dictionary. You know how to find the shelf, if I give you the DDC number?"

"Oh. Yes." She took the slip of paper and strolled off to browse the shelves. Following the map of numbers that led her to what she was looking for. A bi-lingual dictionary. The book was nabbed, checked out and she scurried back to her quarters. 

Her cereal bar was nibbled upon as she sat on her bed with her prize, her book. She flicked to the letter 'M' and scanned down the list. Rolling the sound of what he had said, that one word, around in her head, scanning down the page, until she found what she was looking for.

Myško. Little mouse. Oh… 

She read the description underneath.

'A term of endearment. A pet name. This is one of the most common terms of affection for little children.'

Oh… he thinks I'm a child? She frowned at that thought and slammed the book closed, placing it on her bedside table, getting up, scrunching up and binning the empty cereal bar wrapper, readying herself for bed.

Her thoughts were stuck on the phrase 'term of endearment' and she brushed her teeth. Playing back the gate room scene, when she had first met him, in her head. Her mind recalled his bright smile, as she wiped her face and stared in the mirror. She could recall nothing derogatory or childish there, in his words, there was nothing there except honesty and maybe a hint of playfulness. Her smile grew and she nibbled upon her lower lip, as his words played back to her. 

She switched the light off and settled back on her bed. Her eyes close, while the fingers of her left hand strayed to her right hand, stroking the digits that he had touched. Remembering the lightning and the warmth that it had left in its wake. Recalling the promise that his touch had gifted her.

With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes and ran her touch over that one word.

Myško… little mouse… Yes. I am that, I suppose. But I'm his little mouse… Even if he doesn't know it…

She hugged her pillow and fell asleep. Falling into a dream. One where there was a flurry of little, white mice running around her quarters, with herself as the smallest one there.

- 

She skidded to a halt at the back of the crowded office, late for the morning briefing. Arriving just in time to clock on without incurring a penalty. And just in time to hear of yet another sewage incident, one involving quarters in the mid-level of the main tower, that now needed her and her brethren, as part of the clean-up crew, to set things to rights once more. 

Her day was spent in a rush of work. Scrubbing and cleaning and placing items back in, now cleaned and cleared and ordered personnel quarters. As she worked, she gazed around at the blue-clad scientists that were fixing pipes and conduits where she was cleaning. Wondering if he would be amongst them, as he was a scientist, as he had the blue facings on his uniform too. But there was no sign of him.

But what sort of scientist is he though? 

She wondered if he was one of those that risked life and limb to protect her and her fellow Atlanteans, like the gossip said that some did. Would he look down his nose at her, at her job, after he'd climbed to the heady heights of being a hero?

She didn't have time for lunch that day. And there was no sign of him at dinner, when she went there, late. So she trudged back to her quarters, after her solo dinner. Showering her aching muscles into some semblance of normality, before falling into bed. Gathering her book up.

She turned back to the start of the dictionary. Frowning at it. Trying to learn more than that one word, 'Myško'. Stumbling at the pronunciation. Trying. Failing. Trying again. Failing again. Giving up. Leaving the book on her bedside cabinet. Placing her personal datapad over it. Hiding her frustration from herself, knowing that she would be forced to run back to the librarian, with her tail between her legs, the next time that she had a free few hours, to exchange it for something easier. 

-

"Back again so soon, honey?"

"Um… yes…" She slid the dictionary across the counter.

"Too difficult?"

"Yes."

"Thought so. It's not a language you can learn or study from a book. That's where you're better off learning from something with videos or sound. I mean, the absolute best way to learn any language is to learn from a fluent speaker…"

Again, she shuffled her feet and was forced to look away from the librarian's piercing smile. That same satisfied smile once more rifled through her mind, her thoughts, her intentions, and tapped and pointed at the hidden reason that she was there, and didn't choose to pull an electronic book. Once more, her rosy red face probably didn't help her cause.

"Hmmm… Here we go… Start here, instead. A bit of background reading. Enjoy. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. And if he doesn't, he's a damnable fool!"

"What? Oh… No… It's not…"

"Now then, sweetheart, you can't fool an old fool. I've been there. Learning things for another. But at least you'll be broadening your mind, if it all comes to nothing. Which it won't. Fool of a man would be daft if he turned you down, after you took up learning all about his country and everything. Although those scientist types… Too wrapped up in their own learnings… When you're done with that book, I've another lined up for you. I'll have you all learned up with facts, so much so, that you'll be able to pummel him over the head with them and drag him off to your cave!"

"My…? Oh… I don't think that…"

"See that's the trick to all of this. No thinking! And I'm sure you won't need to bop him on the head. Flash your facts at him and he'll be running after you back to your boudoir all by himself!"

"Flash my…?"

"Facts! You heard what I said, sweetie. Although… if you flash your…"

She felt her face heat and blush as the librarian gestured at her chest.

"…charms at any of them… they're yours! Or if they run away, then that means that they were never meant to be, so… Depends on what you want from him. You do know what you want from him, don't you, sweetheart?"

"I…" She paused. Thinking. Knowing. But not. Not wanting to admit to anything, when all they had was a few words, a smattering of smiles and two lightning strikes. 

One covered in porridge! 

Not wanting to own the feeling of wanting to have more than those harsh things, sex, lust desire, but wanting that softer feeling, love, from him. Feeling a mix of confusion, embarrassment, fear and intimidation, as she stood before a woman who was smirking at her.

"Is it a bit of fun? A quick bit of rumpy-pumpy and how's your father, then adiós mister, see you later, alligator?"

"What! Um… No… Not that… I don't want…" I don't want to use him like that. It's not how it felt, when I stood there in front of him and he smiled at me. And… Lightning… If I did use him like that, it'd feel like… like… betrayal… of him and of how I feel. "No…"

"Ah… so you're after the sweetest wine, the best grapes from the most expensive vines?"

"The…?"

"What makes the world go round!"

"Money?"

"Tcha! No! Love!"

"I don't think…"

"There we go, with thinking again! Too much of that and you'll trip and fall! Now! Don't you worry nothing about anything. I can hear you fretting about what I will think, or what he will think, or what anyone will think!"

"I can't help it…" she whispered, looking down.

"I know. I see you. You're a shy little mouse."

She looked up from her fidgeting fingers and stared at the librarian. Staring with wide, round eyes.

"No use fretting and worrying over what others think. You need to concentrate on what you think and want."

"How will I know, though?"

"Know what, sweetheart?"

"If…?" Lightning…

"If he's the one?"

"Um, yes…?"

"Do you think about him? More than wanting to learn his language and his country, as that's pretty much a whole pile of thinking about him already, isn't it, sweetie?"

"I suppose…?"

"Do you think about him more than that?"

"Um…" Yes! Yes! God, but yes!

"Do you think about him at night, when you're in your bed, alone?"

"Ummm…"

"Ha! That bright red tomato blush of yours tells me everything! But there's more, isn't there?"

"Yes…" a soft whisper of admittance, dropped onto the counter while she stared at her fingers as they gripped around each other. "Yes… I've been reprimanded three times just this month… for taking too long on an assignment. I mean, I get away without being sent back to Earth, as I should have been, because I'm the only one who doesn't mind doing the rubbish jobs that no-one else will take…" Four bodies grinned up at her, making her shiver. 

"Ah… you find yourself drifting off during the day, imagining things… sweet little scenarios, like in one of those slushy romance novels? 'Longing looks' and 'Lingering touches', ones that set your skin on fire as you pass something to each other, like, I don't know, a bag, or a datapad, yes?"

She blinked over at the smiling older woman. How does she…? Must be the CCTV or something…

"Heart racing when he smiles at you?"

"Um…"

"Lightning?"

"Er…"

"It does strike more than once, you know. Although he's the scientist, not me. Ask him. He'll tell you how the saying is all wrong. Especially with golfers."

"I… how…?"

" 'Love at first sight', and that type of thing? Yes?" 

Yes… Not infatuation… It's not… I know it isn't… "Um… Maybe…?"

"But you need to do more than learning things from a book."

"I know! I know…"

"You need to stop hiding and speak to him."

"But… What if I speak to him and he laughs at me?"

"He won't. He's not the type to do that."

"I don't know that. What if—"

"None of that now! You can't hurry or force these things. It'll happen when it happens. If it's meant to be, it'll be, yes?"

"Um… Yes…?"

"Now then. Away with you! Off you go now, Bohemia awaits!"

She took the ticket and hurried off to the shelves. Pondering about what the librarian had said. 

Rumpy-pumpy? She snorted at that silly sounding phrase as she hunted out the next book. No… I want more than just that… I want those 'Longing looks' and 'Lingering touches'… 

She stared at the book that she had been led to by the librarian. 

Oh… A book about his country…? 

The librarian was nowhere to be seen, as she left, hugging the book to her chest. Taking the transporter back to the main, central tower where all the quarters were. Heading off to hers, still clutching and hugging her new book, as if it was the greatest of treasures.

The historical book was devoured in her bed at night, while she nibbled on a cereal bar. Feeding on memories of his touch and his smile and this new book. A feast fit for King Wenceslaus that she turned the page and read about, as night drew its curtains around her. Creeping around and about his home country, where she could not creep around him. Not daring to. Turning the page. Moving away from the Dark Ages. Nearing more modern times. Wondered whether he had to live through and see such things that she read about. And then, wondering if he witnessed that communist government fall or when the country reassembled itself to something new. 

I don't even know how old he is. Whether he was born by then, or a child. I should know these things! 

She cursed herself for not knowing enough about him, while reading.

So much change… 

There was change going on here, within the ancient city and with the people that resided there too. 

Not on that scale though…

She had seen so many colleagues come and go, so many times already, since she joined the complement of crew there, several months ago. Many had not liked the work, so had asked to be sent home. 

It doesn't bother me. It's not so different from my previous jobs. And one annoying boss is the same as any other, when you're the smallest cog in the machine. 

Some just didn't show up the next day. Vanished.

The ghosts of four bodies laughed at her and had her closing her book and scooting under her covers and closing her eyes and trying to picture his smile but just seeing grinning skulls and hearing clattering footprints that chased her down a dark, unending corridor.

-

The next evening, that book was returned to the quiet library. She gained a raised-eyebrow look from the librarian, upon her swift return. Shaking her head when asked, by the older woman, if she had spoken to him yet. Given a tut and a new book number, as a reply. 

Chapter Text

Radek hurried away from the awful scene of the fourth body as fast as he could. Scurrying back to the clean normality of the laboratories, with the excuse that he needed to refrigerate the samples and analyse the photos as quickly as possible. Mentioning as well, the need to prepare for his upcoming off-world mission. He puffed out his breath, as he arrived at the medical lab, donning his white laboratory coat, shifting himself back into the safety of science, while labelling and placing everything in medical fridges.

But his headset buzzed, forcing him to divest his coat and to be called away, before his backside had a chance to sit. So off he scurried to the control room technician who called him away from one duty, to another.

"What is it?"

"Dunno, Doc, look… An anomaly? Is the screen broken, or…?"

Radek stared at the screen. Squinting down at where the technician, Chuck, pointed at. "It's just…? What is this!" He reached out a finger and used its nail to scratch at the screen. A few choice words were spat out. "You called me away for… mayonnaise!"

"Uh… sorry, Doc! But while you're here, can you, uh, change the settings back…"

"Back?"

"Yeah… Doctor McKay was here earlier and altered the sizing and brightness and…"

"And now no-one can see anything to do their work!" Radek huffed.

"Yes…" Chuck answered.

Radek nodded, knowing exactly which settings to alter, as he had just done similar to his laboratory laptops, after Rodney had fiddled there, with them, too. He seated himself at the workstation, but paused. Feeling something. Knowing to straighten his bent back and head and to look down.

Her… she is… like before… stood there… But… 

He blinked, waiting for her disavowal of him again. Waiting for a shake of her head. But no. Not this time.

He felt his face heat and his cheeks ache, as he returned her bright smile with one of his own. Staring down at her. Smiling down at her. Forgetting everything. Pushing the fear of earlier, of seeing death, away from himself, as he swam in her smile.

"Hey, Doc!"

Radek smiled down at her. Allowing everything else to fall away, as she smiled back at him.

"Snap out of it, Doc!"

Her…

"Zelenka!"

The shout of his name pulled him away from his daydreams and had him turning. "Oh, Colonel Sheppard? Is there something…?"

"Did you send for someone from sanitation?" 

"Sanitation…?" Radek frowned.

"At the site. I know that I told you to take care of all the paperwork! But sanitation showed up while we were still… uh… clearing up…" Sheppard hissed.

"Clearing up?" Radek frowned, then saw the Colonel's raised eyebrow and Radek's frown turned into a double raised-eyebrow look and his mouth turned into an 'o'. "Oh… I see! That is not… No! I haven't done any of that yet! I left you and… the site and dropped the samples off in the fridge for Carson. Then I was called up here and—"

"Then if you didn't…?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Maybe…? Let me know if you get anything from the… you know."

"Yes, Colonel. Oh and I'm still waiting for clearance in some of those… um… places…?"

"Okay. I'll go speak to Woolsey to get him to put a rocket up their asses! I'll leave you to… whatever it is… Hey… Is that mayonnaise on the keyboard there?"

Radek looked down at where the Colonel's fingers pointed to the keyboard of the laptop that Radek was seated before. More choice, Czech words fell out to join the remains of the crusted condiment.

"Uh… sorry…" Chuck offered.

Radek stabbed a sharp glare at the technician, before he set about altering the settings on the mucky laptop. A quick peer down at the gate room revealed what he knew, that she had gone. 

Was she… Was it her who was sent…? Did she see…? Oh this is horrible! 

His fingers strayed to the folded up knife that was nestled in his pocket. Kept there ever since that second body. Kept as comfort. He touched it as a talisman, hoping that she had not witnessed what he had there, in that dim, dingy corridor, while he worked to alter all the control room laptops back to their defaults. When done, he took himself off and away, back to the silent comfort of his lab. 

Once back there, he settled himself into his usual seat, at his usual desk. Wanting to sift through the results of the mathematical algorithms that he had constructed to look for similarities in all four now, of those crime scenes. Enjoying the complexity of the mathematics, not so much the subject matter though. 

This is… it is so awful and the fact that the latest dead woman… She looked too much like her, like my…

His thoughts halted at that word and he corrected himself.

She is not mine though… And with me being away soon, for I don't know how long, then maybe she will forget me and—

He shook his head, then frowned at the screen, as an email pinged through for him. Opening it and frowning at it. 

'DON'T FORGET TO SIGN UP FOR A LIBRARY CARD! ALL THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE UNIVERSE AND EARTH CAN BE AT YOUR FINGERTIP, JUST A BORROWED BOOK AWAY! ASK THE LIBRARY STAFF FOR DETAILS!'

He mumbled through the message, noting that there was no sender's address.

This is strange… What is this! Is this some kind of joke? Or spam? Do I have to check for a virus now too?

Radek's gaze shifted away from his laptop screen, sidling over at where Rodney McKay was tapping away on his own laptop in the opposite corner of Radek's lab. Squatting there, as his own lab had been fried by a failed test to see if the power from an Ancient Relic could be utilised to up the levels of the Naquada generators and so slow the depletion of their ZPM.

"Rodney, did you just send me an email?"

"Now, why would I bother to waste my time doing that when I'm right here, as are you?"

"Just checking…" Radek frowned back at his screen. Reading that message again. Checking the sender. Seeing nothing suspicious, mainly because there was nothing to see. 

No sender? Then how…?

His frown, already there because of the puzzle of that email, deepened and a sigh was added to keep it company, as rhythmic squeakings were heard from McKay's corner.

"What are you doing, Rodney!"

"Do you have any other chairs other than these ones? They're a little hard!"

"Maybe it's not the chair that is the problem there?" Radek answered.

"What?"

"If you wanted a different chair, then maybe you should not have destroyed your own chair and your own lab with that explosion? You still have not said 'thank you' to me for allowing you to share my lab here!" Radek huffed.

"It was an accident!" Rodney wheedled.

"Ha! I thought the great Rodney McKay did not have 'accidents' ?"

"Miscalcualtions then, because of shoddy tools," Rodney smiled.

"Is there not a saying… A bad workman…?"

"You're just jealous because the new Ancient device didn't work for you!" Rodney widened his smile.

Radek grumbled. Not wanting to give a smirking Rodney McKay the satisfaction of acknowledging that the gene therapy did not work on him. Effectively locking him out of a whole area of Ancient technology. And meaning that others could leapfrog over all of his hard-won study and work with the tech.

Well, if Rodney did not send that message, then who did?

He ran a quick scan of the network. Finding nothing. 

Hmmmm… Strange… Although a library, a proper one, not just a reading room and book lending scheme would be good… I could—

Another notification on his screen distracted him away all of from that. His calculations had finished processing. 

He ran through the numbers. As he scrolled down his screen, his frown deepened, as they told him nothing different from the previous times. Cursing at the nothing that they told him. Even with the police data added in from several obliging forces. Although several had yet to say yes to his requests for data. Even with the official stamp of the IOA on said request. 

The data is incomplete. I could be missing anything and everything and—

His headset buzzed. A call for him. He looked at his watch and cursed again. The time had been forgotten while he was running his calculations and he was late for his appointment. 

"Please do not destroy my laboratory, while I am away, Rodney!" A parting gift that was answered with a wave of McKay's distracted hand, as Radek slid off of his chair and headed off to a part of the city that he had never been to before. Heading off for study and training that he did not want, but was told that he would need it for this particular mission. Agreeing reluctantly, as he did not wish to be caught out, like last time. He could not afford to be captured and made a hostage again. He had something to return to.

Assuming that she is still here, when I return and will not be another one wishing to be sent back to Earth, like so many seem to do. Unlike me… I've been here since the start, one of the few members of the original expedition… One of the few survivors…

He shook his head, while he headed to where he needed to be. Trying not to think of all of the bodies that he had witnessed while being part of the population of this ancient city for all of those years. Bodies of friends and those of people that he did not know. Bodies of those killed in fighting and then the three women and one man who he was trying and failing to find the killer of. 

Radek nodded a greeting at Major Lorne, when he arrived at the shooting range. "Sorry, for being late…" Apologising, while he tried not to think of how he would be practicing here on how to make more bodies. Not something he wanted to even contemplate thinking about.

"That's okay, Doc. I know you're busy and it's good that you volunteered for this. We don't want you getting nabbed, without knowing how to defend yourself, like last time, eh?" Lorne answered.

"No…"

"Well, come on in then, let's get you fixed up and kitted out. You said that you've had some experience?" The Major asked, while shifting the scientist towards the check-out desk.

"Yes… but it's been a while. A long while and…"

"Okay. We've a starting point then, I guess?"

"As I said, it has been a while, so assuming that I know almost nothing, would be a good starting point," Radek nodded as he was ushered off and into the range.

"We'll start you off easy, okay? You've been issued sidearms before, yes?"

Radek nodded. "Yes, but I've never… I've never used one. Never needed to…"

"Okay. Well then, practice makes perfect! And that's what you're here to do, yes?"

"Yes…" 

Radek mumbled a thank you to the person who issued him the weapon and the ear defenders, then he followed after the Major, who ushered him off and away to their allotted lane. He kept his head down and ignored everyone, staring at the gun that he held instead, as if it were made of deadly Uranium, until he was sequestered into the private space of their lane. The weapon was placed onto the table and he took a step back. Breathing. Staring down at it. 

I need to do this. I need to do this. I need to do this.

The chant ran around and around in his head. 

I know how to do this. I know. I know. I know.

He closed his eyes and ran back to his youth. Not a child. Not a man. Somewhere in-between. In a no-man's land between adolescence and adulthood. But thrown into responsibilities that he didn't want. 

Guns. No. Not guns. Weapons. What did he call them?

He frowned and snuck back towards the almost adult him. Standing in a row of almost adults. All in green fatigues. Playing at being soldiers. But failing. Dismally. The Corporal in charge stalked up and down the line. Pointing out all of their defects. Taking more time in front of him than all of the others.

Glasses. My vision. It always worked against me. But there. I was singled out as particularly incompetent, because of that physical lack. I tried. I did. I took my time. I learned the theory. But was always lacking something when it came to the practical skills, according to that Corporal. 

"Are you okay, Doc? You're looking a little shaky…"

Back in the present, Radek flexed and fisted and flexed and fisted his shaking hands. Hands that knew their way around an older version of the weapon that sat and stared back at him. But that knowledge had been squashed down, suppressed, hidden away. Not needed. Not wanted. Until now. Until she gave him a reason to pull it all back up. To seek it out. To choose to study this old version of him.

Just as he had searched out and studied anything useful in the Louvre while working there, in a temporary job that he had jumped on, after completing his doctorate at Cambridge University. It was a chance to hunt through the artifacts stored in the basements of that huge museum in Paris, searching there for anything useful while working for an old professor of his, who was doing a touring exhibition on the history of science. 

That job was perfect. The place, the artefacts. He had set ones to search for, but had enough of a leeway to indulge his ever-present curiosity and was allowed to escape into the basement storage rooms and trawl through the collections for as long as he liked. It was while he was working and rummaging there, that he had stumbled across a sketch of the Alpha Gate's DHD, one made by Vivant Denon, of Napoleon's Egyptian expedition. A sketch made at the Temples of Philae. 

Radek had recognised the device for what it was - a keyboard of some sort. His curiosity and ample free time enabled him to spend months looking into what it was and how it could be made to work. His perseverance with that device paid off when his digging through old papers, led him to one written by a Doctor Daniel Jackson. A paper where Doctor Jackson had theorised that aliens built the Egyptian pyramids. 

Another version of him would have scoffed at such nonsense pseudo-science. But, something had caused him to look up the author and see that he was speaking at a nearby conference. So he had booked himself as an attendee there and sat and listened to that same Doctor present the findings of another paper of his. Afterwards, Radek had sought that paper out and remembered smiling to himself when he read it. Smiling at how it contained a reference to the device that Denon had found in Egypt, but it did not mention the sketch that Radek had found. He paced his accommodation all night that night, wondering if Doctor Jackson knew about the sketch that he, Radek, had unearthed. 

And so, he had reached out and contacted Doctor Jackson, who then came and met him. Radek remembered seeing how excited the Doctor was, when he showed him the sketch. Doctor Jackson had spoken so fast about it. Talking about technology that Radek didn't know about. But what he would always remember was what Doctor Jackson had told him.

'This sketch, that you stumbled upon, by pure chance! It's the visual proof I need, proof that I've been searching for, about the fate of the Giza DHD!' 

Chance… Pure, blind, chance! Of him getting that job, being allowed to rummage and root about in the Louvre, of finding that sketch, of looking up the author of a paper, of going, of contacting him. Chance! The upshot of all of that chance upon chance upon chance, was that Radek was introduced to the secret of the Stargate by the Doctor. And that he had ended up here, in the Ancient City of Atlantis.

Chance… A chance meeting. Just like with her. Who could have thought that chance would lead me to Doctor Jackson, the Stargate, Atlantis and then to… her…? And I cannot take any chances with myself now… I need to do this, I need to learn…

He was pulled back out of his musings, by the voice of the Major. 

"We don't have to do this, Doc, you'll have me and a full team with you… You'll not be going with such a small team this time. I don't think Colonel Sheppard trusts the Genii not to pull a fast one again, nor do I, or anything, eh?"

"No, I mean yes, I mean, no… I want to do this though. I need to do this!" 

His shaking hands reached out and picked up the weapon that he had been issued, that he had asked the Major to help him use, to teach him how to properly utilise it.

"Okay, Doc… Well, let's start at the beginning. You're an engineer, right?"

"Yes…?"

"So let's start with how this thing works!"

"The… the physics behind it?"

"Well, I don't know about that, but I can show you how it does what it does, I guess?"

Radek nodded, then watched the Major take the weapon apart and listened to him describe how the weapon worked and what the parts were called. 

His past distracted him, when he remembered how their gruff, old Corporal had pulled him aside one day and marched him to the armoury, then off to the chilly, outdoor shooting range and had kept him there all day and some of the night. Making him load and reload the ancient revolver. Drilling into him practice after practice. Instruction after instruction. No shouting. Just firm and steady orders. Keeping him at it, until the young Radek was at a level that seemed acceptable to the older man. And a level that had amazed the young him, when he had managed to shoot with competence. He had kept that perfectly hit paper target next to his bed in the cold barracks. A perfect score, a perfectly eliminated bullseye. Perfect for the young, not quite man, with imperfect eyesight.

He tried to recall the lessons from that day. And smiled at how Major Lorne repeated those same lessons, with this newer weapon.

"This is the dangerous end, don't point it at anyone unless you want to kill or wound them. Okay, Doc?"

Radek nodded. 

"Remember to breathe. It's all about breathing, timing and adjustments."

Adjustments! Yes. Adjustments for my poor vision… But I do not need to worry about that now!

He had snuck an eye examination into his busy schedule, the last time the Optician from Earth had visited, last month, not ignoring it this time. Not knowing that this off-world outing was coming up. His current prescription gave him 20/20 vision, meaning that he could see the world with normal clarity and sharpness, same as anyone who wasn't so short sighted as he was, as long as he was wearing his glasses. This new prescription meant that he had risen out of the fog of having 20/30 vision, where he could barely see at twenty feet what a person with normal vision can see at thirty feet. 

There should be no need to adjust my shooting to take into account my poor vision now. But the other two things… I need to remember those…

"I have new glasses, I shouldn't… I do not need to adjust my aim because of my terrible eyesight…"

"Okay then. So let's check your timing and breathing, Doc?"

Radek nodded at the Major in reply.

Timing… 

He rummaged through his memories and dug up the words of the Corporal who taught them to shoot. Timing. To align your breathing with the use of your weapon, to aid in the process of aiming, holding, and firing. 

"Okay, Doc, let's see your stance!"

Radek wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, then picked up the weapon and shifted his feet. He settled into the stance that he had been taught.

"Okay, Doc, good, just, change your stance a little… Like this…"

Radek copied the Major and smiled, when Lorne nodded.

"Good. Now take aim and fire when you're good and ready. Don;t rush this now, okay?"

"Okay…" Radek closed his eyes. He remembered his old lessons and settled his rapid heart rate, by taking long, steady breaths. Inhaling deeply, puffing out that breath, before opening his eyes and staring at the paper target. Preparing himself. Another deep breath in. Then another out, as he raised the pistol up. Taking aim. Focusing on the sights, doing his best to concentrate on the target. 

A Pause. A hold. Freezing. Keeping everything still. Holding his breath. 

Timing. 

He squeezed the trigger. Only breathing in again, only lowering his pistol, after the bullet had flown away. 

A frown, as he squinted and saw that the hole in the target was way off centre. 

"Not bad for a first try, you hit the target, Doc."

"Only just!"

"Okay. Let's try again. Practice!"

Radek adjusted his stance and breathed in and out again. Fixing his eyes on the bullseye. Another deep breath in. Then another out, as he raised the pistol up once more. Taking aim again Focusing on the sights and the target again. Adjusting for what he could not quite see. Holding his breath, pausing, then firing the next shot off. Not lowering his weapon. Smiling as he saw that he had shot closer to the bullseye this time.

"Okay! Nice! Let's try again. Keep going until you get that bullseye! Practice makes perfect, yes?"

"Yes…" Radek nodded. Breathing in and out. Holding his breath. Firing. Repeating again and again until the magazine was empty. 

'Timing is key.'

He smiled at those remembered words. Words that had been shouted and beaten into him and his group. He hadn't forgotten. How could he? 

"Well done, Doc!"

"Thank you, Major…"

"Well, it doesn't look like you need me to teach you anything more here, about shooting straight. I thought you were a scientist, through and through, but your stance, your aim…? I didn't think you knew how to use one of those. Who did you nab here to teach you how to shoot…?"

"No… I didn't have anyone here teach me…"

"No-one here, so…?"

"I had no choice…"

"No choice…?"

"Conscription. In the Czechoslovak People's Army. It was compulsory for every man over eighteen and under twenty-seven…" Radek shrugged.

"Ah. I see."

Radek knew that Lorne didn't really see. No-one on that side of the Iron Curtain truly did or could. His time as a conscript probably held very little in common with what Colonel Sheppard or Major Lorne went through in their training. What with the decent food, weaponry and accommodation that the Americans had been brought up with. It was all a huge luxury, compared to what his short time as a conscripted soldier held. The weapon that Zelenka was holding was light years ahead of anything that he had trained with: old second world war hand-me-downs from the Americans and British. Or whatever was scavenged from the fleeing Germans. The Russians had offered some more modern weaponry, but most of what they gave was worse. Misfiring, jamming, unreliable. 

"Anything you want to tell me there, Doc?"

"No… not really… It's in the past. I just… It is a long story and I do not ordinarily like using guns, ah, weapons. I'm a scientist. My job is to promote life, not to end it… I do not wish to use these weapons, but even in hell, it is good to have friends." Radek patted the weapon. "I did not do the full two years… There was the revolution and I got my place at university… So… I am an almost beginner, as that was all a lifetime ago… The main thing is that I don't want to be… stuck… like last time…"

"Ah. Yes. Well. You'll be going with more backup this time. Me and a whole lot of others. So…"

Radek nodded.

"Can I ask you something, Doc?"

"Of course."

"Why do you really want to learn this stuff, I mean, you said what you said and you know that you'll have us there, protecting your ass… But you really won't need to know this stuff…"

"I… Uh…"

"Rumour has it that—"

"The gossip in this city is like the film with the teenage girls that are mean! And Rodney is the worst girl who gossips of them all!"

"Yeah… I know… this place does love to gossip… But… I wouldn't have thought that'd be your type of film, Doc?"

"It is not! But I had watched all of the ones that Rodney brought, except for that one! And all that was left was the film with the girls who are mean and other, more… questionable… ones that he has… and I—"

"Ah! So it's true! He does have a stash of—"

"He does! But you did not hear that from me!" Radek tapped the side of his nose and smirked.

"Ah. Gotcha!" A wink. "But anyways, all I wanted to say is that it's no bad thing, Doc, to have something, or someone, to fight for."

"I…"

Lorne waited. Watching his colleagues head shake, his face frown and then look at him with a hard stare and red cheeks.

"I… Yes. I do!"

"Good for you, Doc. Good for you."

Radek nodded, not daring to say anything.

"And it was great shooting! Not bad at all for an almost beginner. You'll be wanting my job next!" Lorne chuckled.

"Oh no… No… this was just a fluke. Chance. Not everyone is cut out to be a soldier. Certainly not me! Against a paper target, I am… okay?"

"Better than okay! You demolished the bullseye there!"

"But against something that is living… and moving…" Radek shook his head. "That is different…"

"Practice, Doc. It's all down to practice. Like me and my painting. Find the time to practice and you'll get better. You've a good foundation to stand on, but practice makes perfect!"

"Yes…"

"I'll see you here tomorrow then. Same time. Maybe we'll try you with a P90 and see how you do with that…"

"Yes. Maybe…? And thank you, I know that you are busy…"

"No busier than anyone else here. Just be on time tomorrow, eh?"

"Yes. Thank you," Radek nodded and took his leave. Scooting off. Taking a detour to take in dinner in the mess hall. 

Looking around. Seeing a table full of no-one he knew, two tables away from where Colonel Sheppard and Ronon and Rodney were sitting and chatting. He sighed and headed over to them with his tray. Smiling and nodding hello at the other three. Falling into an easy conversation about the upcoming off-world mission. Smiling to himself, that he was able to contribute more than the science now, with the first lesson with the Major having gone so well.

"Do you think you'll be away long?"

"Why? Are you going to miss me, Rodney?" Radek answered.

"Pft! Ha! No! I just wondered, with my lab out of action and not looking like being back for a while, well…"

"Of course you can use my laboratory space, Rodney."

"Oh, thank you, Radek, I—"

"For a price."

"What!"

Radek smiled at Rodney McKay's slack, open mouth. 

"What price?"

"Keep the place tidy and clean and re-stock the food that you take from my desk please, Rodney!"

"Oh. Is that it?"

"Yes," Radek answered.

"Well… that I can do. Just… don't get into any escapades, this time…"

"He won't. He'll have Lorne looking out for him this time," Ronon added. 

"Ah. The B-team!" McKay smirked.

"Are you saying that I'm the B-team? That I'm not good enough to be on your A-team?" Ronon turned towards McKay.

"Oh… um… what…?" Rodney shifted his gaze between Radek and Ronon.

"Ronon is going on this expedition too, Rodney," Radek smirked.

"Ah… no… what I meant to say is… I don't think… um… did I say B? What I meant was that you're actually the A part of the A-team, which cancels out the B in that team, making it an A plus, in fact and—"

"I'd quit while you're only dug up to your shoulders, Rodney," Sheppard laughed.

"What? But?" McKay looked from the smiling Colonel to a laughing Ronon, running a finger around the collar of his blue shirt.

"You go redder than that tomato in your sandwich when you're flustered, McKay!" Sheppard laughed.

"Um…" Mckay stared down at his sandwich.

"They are just… what is the word…? Ah yes, they are messing with your head, Rodney," Radek added.

"My…? Ah. I see. Very good. Very good. Um… Yes. So… How long will you all be gone for?" McKay asked.

"Well, I'm not actually going," Sheppard answered. "It's just Ronon and Radek here and Lorne and a squad of Marines. But it'll be about a month, for the round trip on the Daedalus," Sheppard shrugged. "Too big a team for puddle jumpers. And I don't trust them not to try something funny again, when going by gate."

"Plus there's all the equipment to send," Radek added. "The biggest parts will not fit through a gate and are being shipped out from Earth. But you've seen the specifications, Rodney. If this works out, then—"

"Then we'll have upgraded generators here!" McKay smiled.

"Yes," Radek nodded, agreeing with the other scientist. "And that will mean—"

"Being able to run the shield without draining the ZPM so much!"

"Exactly! And think of all of the—"

"Upgrades! I'll be able to implement that fix for extending the long-range detectors and maybe bringing on-line more of the—" McKay finished Radek's sentence off for him.

"Transporters! Yes, yes!" Radek finished McKay's sentence in turn and nodded along with McKay's enthusiasm. But his attention was distracted by something. He turned to his side. Seeing how Colonel Sheppard was smiling and had that blank look on his face that he always wore whenever the science and mathematics got too much and flew over his head. He allowed Rodney to have his head, running like an excited terrier about what the new exchange with the Gennii would do for Atlantis. An exchange of an Ancient device that they had found, for the installation of proper shielding for one of their nuclear generators, to prove their worth and the blueprints to do the same themselves to others.

Radek's gaze followed where the Colonel's was pointing. He was turned in his seat, looking at something behind him. He turned himself, seeing that Sheppard was not smiling at something, but at someone who was sitting two tables away.

What! He is… But… When did she get here and why is she smiling at him!

He frowned at how she had been smiling at the Colonel. Although his frown lessened when he noted how her smile grew wider and brighter, when she turned her gaze to join with his. He blinked at her when he saw how she dropped her head down, so her fringe fell to cover her blushing cheeks. Feeling his own face heat to match hers. Feeling his smile widen, as he saw how pretty her smile at him was.  

"Guess you've got competition, there, Sheppard," Ronon laughed.

"Well then… seems like I might, or maybe…?" Sheppard paused and raised the game.

Radek turned away from her, watching the Colonel raise a hand and wave at her. 

What? Radek frowned, when he saw how she raised a hand up to cover her mouth, to hide it. Giggling! She is giggling at him! He huffed and gaped at her, then turned to offer the Colonel a narrow-eyed stare.

"You're not giving up so easily, are you Radek?" Sheppard asked.

"What!" His head snapped back to her, catching her hazel eyes, holding her in place, frowning at her, daring her to leave her again, commanding her to show all there at his table that she was his and none other's. He blinked, as her hand lowered, as her smile widened. Another blink, a brighter blush, as his darkened eyes latched onto how she nipped at her bottom lip. 

"My money's on the Doc," Ronon smiled.

"Ah, never mind, she's leaving. But I'll lay five dollars on Kirk here getting the last smile, like he always does!" McKay huffed.

"We'll see," Ronon smirked.

All four men turned to stare at the same person, two tables away. 

Radek watched her, as she turned after picking her tray up, making room for a group to sit at that table. He watched her gaze flit towards Sheppard. But just before she turned to leave, she handed him the jackpot. Smiling at him, making his face heat and turn into McKay's sandwich tomato.

"Told you! Pay up, McKay!" Ronon laughed.

- 

He took a breath, held it, then squeezed the trigger. Doing as he was taught, a lifetime ago, but with different weapons. 

The bullet flew from the Beretta M9 and hit the target, just shy of the bullseye. He frowned at that, then adjusted his feet and his breathing and squeezed off another round. Smiling at his perfect shot. Making the hole on the paper larger with the four bullets that followed in quick succession after that second one. 

"Well done, Zelenka. If you ever get bored with science, come see me, and we can maybe ask Colonel Sheppard to swap your blue for black," Major Lorne smiled.

"Ah, thank you Major, but no thank you. I'm just… this is just for the upcoming… excursion," he grimaced at that last word, frowning, contorting his face, as he said it. "I'd rather not repeat the previous… ah… experience, thank you though. I will not be making the same mistake as last time, of not going prepared and armed," Zelenka tightened the grip on his pistol, as he remembered what he had to go through with that off-city outing.

Major Lorne nodded, so Radek raised his hands and aimed his pistol once more. He fired off the remaining bullets in the magazine. Smiling, as the Major pressed the button to bring the paper target back to him. 

"Well then, let's see… Every shot, bar the first, is a perfect bullseye, Doc!"

Radek's face flushed, as he noted how he was garnering jealous frowns from the military who were in the next-door lanes and allowed himself a congratulatory, probably too-smug smirk at their comparative lack of skill. 

He could put up with their jealousy. Easily. It was far better than what he'd received for missing the red centre of the target in his training camp. A miss meant a barrage of harsh words, brutal beatings and food that was even more awful than the norm. Such treatment made everyone there if not a crack, then a decent enough shot. Especially when your failure had the punishment meted out to all of the comrades in your group.

Radek waited for Lorne to replace the paper target with a new one and placed the Beretta pistol down on the counter. 

"Now then, Doc. Time for the upgrade!"

Radek stared at the P90. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his trousers, as he listened to the Major explain how this new weapon worked, watching him take it past and put it back together again. 

Smiling at how the American army relied on Italian and Belgian weaponry. Wondering what the Major would make of the ČZUB equivalent that the army of his homeland used. 

Mind you, I would not be able to say either, as we had moved to the other side of the frosty, iron curtain long before those weapons became more prominent. Long before I had a chance to use one!

Radek copied what the Major had shown him and shouldered the sub-machine gun. 

"Remember Doc. Breathe. Timing. Yes?"

"Yes." Radek closed his eyes. Breathing in. Opening his eyes and breathing out as he squeezed the trigger. 

Hearing Desátník Svoboda, the corporal that trained them, shout in his ear. Hearing the threats. Feeling the kicks of his booted feet land on his kidneys. Feeling the back of the Corporal's hand smack the side of his face, while he cursed him for being a degenerate student. 

He released the trigger and stared at the target. Feeling the Major take the weapon from his shaking hands, placing it down on the counter. 

"Let's see how you did, Doc…"

Waiting an age for the target to come closer, after the Major had pressed the button. Feeling his face heat again, as he saw how the centre of the target was shredded. 

"Well… I think you've earned your stripes, Doc!"

This time Radek heard the training corporal's praise and felt his large, rough hand clap him on the shoulder, as he pointed out his prowess to everyone else in his group.

"I think we're done here, yes?"

"I think so. Thank you, Major Lorne."

"It was my pleasure. Come on, it's taco Tuesday in the mess hall!"

Chapter Text

She arrived at the mess hall and saw how he was sitting at his usual table. Sat next to the colonel that all her colleagues listed over and opposite the other scientist he was always arguing with. That scientist was sitting next to the tall fighter who was not from Earth. 

She settled into the empty table two away from his. Staring at his back. Watching his hands speak. Watching his wild, scruffy hair. Watching him turn to face the Colonel. Watching his profile. Watching him push his glasses up his nose. All things that were him. Little tells that told her something and everything, even though she knew nothing.

She watched his head move, his head nod, as he spoke. Watching, as he spoke to the other scientist. Free to stare and watch, as his back was to her, as she nibbled upon her almost forgotten meal. Picking, as she stared. 

Something had her. Something caught her. A cough, as another pair of eyes caught her stare. Not blue ones though. Someone else had noticed her observations. A dark eyebrow raised and smiled at her, causing her face to heat and for her to have to swallow two, three times to try and free her craw from the food that was stuck there.

Shitshitshitshit!

Movement to the Colonel's left, her right, had her stuck like a headlight trapped rabbit, as she saw him move.  Ahead turned. A blue eyed gaze followed where the Colonel had trapped her. Blue eyes stared at what every one of her colleagues would give their eye teeth for. Frowned, blue eyes stared at what was occurring next to him and behind his back, at the trap that she was cornered in - the Colonel smiling at her, with his arm resting, in a languid fashion, on the back of his chair. 

Caught. Trapped. Betrayed by her polite self smiling back at who was smiling back at her. There was nothing there but that - a polite upbringing. 

She tried to show him, to tell him, that the Colonel had her politeness, but that he was the only recipient of her brightest smiles, by widening her mouth, when blue eyes glared at her. Trying her best to disarm his oh so obvious anger, not liking how his blue eyes had turned so green.

Please… I am yours, no-one else's…

Smiling, smiling, smiling at him and only him, even in the face of a blue but green tinged frown at how she had been caught smiling at the Colonel. Puffing out a sigh, as she noted how his frown lessened and his eyes lost their green tinge, while she held his gaze, while her smile pleaded with him. His smile matched hers now. He held her there. The Colonel and her meal both forgotten, as he smiled his bright smile at her.

Thank goodness! He knows! 

Her face burned, her cheeks burned and she was forced to drop her head down. A self-conscious action. Keeping her gaze fixed upon him, keeping her smile in place for him, but forced to drop her head down, so that she could hide behind her fringe. Allowing it to fall and to cover her blushing, burning, probably glowing brighter than the sun, cheeks. Her smile widened, as she noted how his own face reddened to match hers. And how he blinked over at her. A cat's smile, as his smile widened, showing her how pretty his brightest of smiles was.  

She knew that the others who sat at his table spoke to him, because his face grew to shine a brighter shade of red. Feeling so glad that she was not sitting with any of her work colleagues, so that she was not teased as relentlessly as he probably was being right now, judging by the laughter that came from that table, his table.

The spell of their shared gaze and smiles were broken, when he snapped his eyes away from her. She turned her own gaze to follow where he was looking. Catching the Colonel's stare once more. Blinking over at him, as he raised a hand and waved at her. 

Now she wished that her co-workers were here to witness this. To see how she, the little mouse, had not only captured the attention of and a smile from the object of their obsessions, she now had a wave off of him. The thought of her co-workers' jealousy, had her giggling and raising a hand up to cover her mouth, to try and hide her mirth. 

Her hand dropped down, as she noted how her scientist, who was not really hers, not truly, not yet, huffed and puffed and gaped at the Colonel and then at her. Her hand moved away and yet again, she offered him her widest of smiles. Nipping on her bottom lip, as she noted how he turned from her and glared at the Colonel, staring at him with dark, narrowed eyes.

Her gaze was torn away from what was going on two tables away, by someone coughing at her side. 

"Are you finished here?"

"Oh! Yes. Sorry, let me just…" She gathered up the remnants and detritus of her half eaten meal onto her tray, picked it up and stood. Shifting out of the way of the group of people who wished to sit.

The back of her neck tingled and she turned. Blinking at how all four men sitting two tables away were staring at the same person. Her. 

Her gaze flitted towards Colonel Sheppard. But she fled from him, gifting her brightest of blush-faced smiles at him, her scientist who was not hers, not yet, but maybe? Smiling at him, making her face heat and glow like the tomato in her half consumed sandwich, as she turned to leave. Carrying that little interaction, another to add to her small hoard, with her.

-

More than a tut was thrown her way when she slid the most recent book back towards the frowning librarian.

"You should just bite the bullet and go speak to him, sweetheart. I'm sure that he won't bite…" 

"No! I can't… I'm not…" She had answered with a mumble and a fast shake of her head as she took the proffered, checked out book. Hugging it to her chest, just as she wished to hug him.

"Well… I say he won't bite, but who knows? He certainly has a temper on him, that one! I would certainly want him on my side in a bar brawl! So he might bite, which isn't a problem, if you want him to, that is, I suppose?"

"If I want him to…?" She blinked at the smirking older woman. "I don't understand…?"

"Oh my sweet, summer child. Seems like you've such a lot to learn. So… I'm guessing, from your answers, that you've not dated many men?"

A quick shake of her head. She had dated several times, in fact. All were disasters that had ended either when she either explained how her father lived with her and how she helped care for him, or when they found out what she did and how she could get a call at any time of day or night to go and do what was needed. One month. That had been the longest anyone had stuck with her, before she got the 'It's not you, it's me' conversation. The last such one had been three years ago. Since then, she had given up. Concentrating on her career, catching up. Until now.

"Hmmm… These European men…" The librarian's voice has trailed off into a knowing smile. "If I was your age, I'd have pounced on him ages ago!"

"Um… pounced…?" Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open at that word and the vision it brought up in her whirring, whirling, churning mind. A vision of her sitting next to him and him smiling up at her, while he spoke soft, sweet endearments, in that deep, accented voice of his, as she sighed and shifted closer. "Um…" She swallowed and clacked her mouth closed, shifting her feet, trying to ignore the sweet heat that that vision had generated. 

"Yes, sweetie, you know, pounce?"

"I… Oh no…" she shook her head in a flurry of her fringe. "Oh no! I can't… I couldn't! I don't know how to… I'm not—"

"You are."

"No! I really am not!" She shook her head and pulled her book closer. "I'm nothing… A nobody. A little mouse. I'm not anyone that anyone would notice, or want…"

"Tcha! Nonsense! You know that is sooo not true! Look at your lovely chestnut hair that glows all coppery!"

"Coppery…?"

"Go outside, take that clip out of your hair, Rapunzel and go sit on a balcony. Let the sun catch those nut-brown locks of yours, as he walks past and you'll see!"

"It's just a boring, brown colour, he'll not notice… And maybe too many others will instead…"

"Flutter those lovely, big old eyes of yours at him. Big and beautiful and coloured just like a cat's!"

"A cat…?"

"Smile at him with those pretty eyes o' yours, you've done that already haven't you, sweetie?!"

"Yes… But… If I do that too much, then he'll just think I'm crazy and he'll run away and have me taken off to the infirmary!"

"He'll not care. Not if you do all that as you plop yourself on his lap! Then there'll be no infirmary!"

"His… lap…? No… No… I couldn't…"

"Trust me, he'll not say no to a pretty little thing like you!" 

She swallowed again, as another vision swam into view. This time with his hands clamped on her sides, holding her waist in the tightest of grips, while he called her a little mouse and her vision popped into nothingness, as the Librarian spoke once more.

"Hmmm… Unless he's, you know…" The librarian raised a hand up, dropped it to hang from her wrist and shrugged. 

"Um…" she blinked at that gesture. Not knowing what to say to that.

"Well, the ball's in your court, honey. Have you at least spoken to him?"

"Sort of. Yes. When I arrived."

"And since then?" 

"Yes… But that time… later… it was…"

"It was…?"

"It was… There was… porridge…"

"Porridge?"

"Yes…" She shifted in her feet and hoped that an explanation would not be needed.

"Hmmm…?"

"I…"

"You…?"

"I fell and there was porridge and I ran and…" She shook her head.

"Not spoken to him since then?"

"No…"

"Then how do you know how you feel? I assume you feel something? You're not a mad stalker or something are you? Like that one who followed Dr Weir around 'till he got chucked out, are you? It's always the quiet ones you need to watch for. Mind you. Pointless me asking though, as you'd be a downright fool to say yes to benign a stalker! Haha!"

"Um… No… No… I'm not… I just… I just like to watch him. And anyway, he's far too busy… I don;t want to interrupt him… I can't…"

"Hmmm… Let me think about this, let your Auntie Atlanta think of something for you. Us small cogs need to help each other out, eh, honey?"

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to waste your time like that and—"

"Hush now, child! You let me brew something up for you, now."

"Um… please don't… I can't… I'm not… I… I need to go… my next shift starts soon…" 

"Oh yes, off you go, let me figure this nonsense out, now!"

"You don't need to, really…" She scurried off, running back to her small quarters. Dropping her new book off there and picking up her datapad, before scurrying down to the office. Fretting over what the librarian would do while she did so. Picking up her allocated task. Finding the right equipment. Hurrying to where her datapad showed her that the 'incident' was. And all the while, fretting and wanting whatever it was that the librarian was cooking up, to succeed. But also not wanting it to happen, because if the older woman's ploy failed, then she would be left a fool. A heartbroken fool. Left bereft and forced to leave the city out of sheer embarrassment.

-

Lying on her bed, her mind drifted, as it always did, in the dead of night, while she conjured up scenarios there. Scenarios where she had the courage to ask him, to speak to him, to sit in silence next to him, to listen to him speak to her and for him to be content with her. 

Her fingers gripped her sheets, as her imaginings gripped her and her thoughts grew more interesting. Not just imagining him speaking to her and smiling at her. But him holding her and showing her what that beautiful smile of his would reveal next. A touch. A kiss maybe? 

She sighed and released her grip. Flexing her fingers. Staring at her right hand. Spreading the fingers there, fanning them out. Closing her eyes and remembering the gate room and the mess hall. Remembering the lighting and how he was correct. It does strike twice, sometimes. 

But will it strike again? Will he… will I ever work up the courage to speak to him, to have him sit next to me, at my table, at our table in the mess hall? Not smile at him from two tables away, but have him sit right next to me! Smiling at me there. Holding my hand. Three times… Can I get lightning to strike three times? Or more?

Another sigh fell from her. A soft sigh. A sad sigh. She closed her eyes and imagined his long, clever fingers holding her hand, causing lightning to course up her arm and wrap around her heart. She flexed her fingers again, feeling the crackle there, feeling the dissipated heat of the two previous bolts out of the blue. She imagined him sitting next to her, speaking to her in his own language. Speaking Bohemian to her, as he held her hand and said her name and called her that word, his word for her. 

Myško…

Chapter Text

What was the phrase Rodney used, with Katie…? In sync, like he felt in sync with her, even though he wasn't that in sync, because they split up not long after he said that, so… But I've only spoken to her twice… That first time I saw her in the gate room and then with porridge-gate and… Why do I already feel as if we have both been on the same page for decades already? Even though I'm not even in the same library, let alone the same page or even the same book!

This is… I do not know, but I do… I do… Lightning… But I do not know what to do about this… I am no good at this! I am not… I am no Captain Kirk! Kurva! I need a coffee! No! I need something stronger. I know! I need to find Doctor Brody! I need something stronger than the piss weak American lager that is named to be what it's not! Oh to be in Prague again with some Budvar! Or a pilsner! No, too weak! Some wine from Moravia! No! No! Some becherovka! Or slivovice! Yes! Ježiš, to have a bottle of that to drown in! 

Radek slid from his chair in his lab and hurried off to find the fellow engineer who had a still and brewed moonshine that no-one knew about but everyone did. He was paused in his mission though, by bumping into an immovable object, as he entered Brody's lab.

"Ah… Sorry, Ronon… I… Excuse me, I—"

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, Doctor Zee…?" Ronon smirked down at the shorter man.

"Um… Have you seen Doctor Brody?"

"Yes. He just went to the kitchens," Ronon shrugged.

"Ah. Thank you, I'll just wait for him to retu—"

"Although if you're after what I think you're after, that's why I'm here."

"Oh. You're after some ah… firewater too?"

"Firewater? Nah. I just need a little something, before we leave."

"Oh, ah, I mean, hooch. Um… Moonshine…?"

"Sorry, Doc, I don't know what that is."

"Alcoholic beverages! Strong ones!"

"Yeah. That. Why didn't you say, Doc?"

"I did! But—" Radek's words were cut off by Ronon waving at a returning Doctor Brody.

"Hey Brody! You've two thirsty customers waiting here!"

"As long as you've got the green, I've got what you need, but keep your voices down, please! I know Sheppard turns a blind eye, but Woolsey, if he found out… That one's a stickler for rules!"

-

"That was far too expensive!" Radek grumbled.

"Not much choice here, Doc. So… Are you celebrating something, or…?"

"Ha! No celebrating. Not really commiserating either. Unless it is to say farewell to my senses. I need to feel… Nothing! My head is spinning too much!"

"Ah! You need to slow down the ship so you can get off!"

"Yes!"

"Who are we running from?"

"What?"

"Well, you, not we, but I can't let you drink alone, someone'll need to carry you back!"

"Ha! Pft! It'll be the other way around. If I could lift you, that is! No, you don't have to babysit me, Ronon!"

"Come on, I know a quiet place where we can crack open your haul, Doc, and get your thoughts off your chest! Can't have you all miserable before a mission!"

"It's not a mission, it is an… an… expedition! A scientific one!"

"Semantics. Come on, Doc. I've got your alcohol, so if you want it, you gotta follow me!"

"Wait! I paid for that!"

Ronon laughed and strode off.

Radek huffed. Muttering Czech, as he followed after Ronon. Half walking, half running after the taller man, until he stopped on a balcony, where he sat and took a bottle out of the crate he had been carrying. Radek sighed and sat next to him. They sat in silence, as each took the lid off of one of the half dozen unlabelled, plain bottles that held a clear liquid. Radek undid the top, took a sniff. The sweet scent was enough like the plum brandy from back home. He took a swig, coughing, grimacing, frowning at Ronon's laugh. Another generous mouthful was swallowed. And another grimace was made. "Ok… Not slivovice then… but it'll do, I suppose…" Radek drank another mouthful.

"Here's to you and whatever or… whoever you're running from, Doc…"

"Who says it's a 'who'?"

"It always is, Doc!" Ronon took another long swallow from his bottle. "Hmmm, but this isn't bad."

"It's not."

"Is it who I think it is, Doc?"

"What?"

"Who you're running from. You were about to tell me."

"Was I?"

"Mmmhmmm…"

"She… I do not know what I am doing here! I really don't. I am no lovelorn teenager! I have a job to do! I cannot afford…"

"Distractions?"

"Yes! I'm distracted! Dangerously so! All I can think of is her, her and her! She is there when I am trying to work, when I am trying to sleep! I cannot get her out of my head! It is…"

"Beautiful."

"Yes… What? No!"

"When a woman grabs you like that… It's like nothing else… It's like you're—"

"Lost! Out of control!!"

"It's like everything makes sense."

"No! Nothing makes sense! I cannot make anything make sense when all there is in my head is… her!"

"Don't fight it, Doc."

"I have to! I cannot just wallow in this ridiculous feeling!"

"Have you never felt this way before?"

"What? Yes! Of course! Maybe… No! But…"

Ronon laughed. "Which is it, Doc?"

"This is different! Before… She… We knew each other since we were children. We were from the same place. Neighbours. We fell into a relationship over a long period of time…" And fell out that way too. Walking slowly away from each other… Or I did, from her… When I came here…

"So, that's why you're panicking?"

"I am not panicking!"

"Is it just sex?"

"What!"

"Sex."

"What!"

"Is it just an urge, that you're needin'? That you're havin'? With her?"

"What!"

"I mean, there's nothin' wrong with that, with takin' a little comfort here and there?"

"No I mean, yes, I mean, there is no sex! No sex has been going on! No sex is going on anywhere. Between me and her. Or me and anyone! I have not even spoken to her!"

"Don' need to speak to have sex, Doc," Ronon laughed.

"What! Yes! I know that! But, it's not… I'm not… It's… I am no good at this talking about feelings!" Radek huffed and took another drink.

"It's more than sex that you're after, yes?"

"Yes! I want more than just… that… from her!"

"And that's why you're panicking. That's why you're using this," Ronon waved his empty bottle around before placing it down and picking up another. Opening that bottle. Taking a swig. Swallowing and wiping his mouth. "You want to feel numb. But it's not working, is it?"

"Not yet!" Radek swallowed another mouthful of the drink, grimacing. "Kurva, but this tastes awful!"

"I've tasted worse!" Ronon laughed. "If this's what I think it is, that you're feeling, you could drink all of these bottles here and it'll never make a difference, Doc."

"Tell me! What is it that you think I'm feeling! As I don't know! I don't!"

"Oh, you do, or you wouldn't be out-drinking me, Doc! You tell me and I'll tell you if I'm right or not."

"That makes no sense!"

"It's not supposed to. You're a scientist. You're trying to understand it. When we're not supposed to."

"What…?"

"What about what…?"

"About feelings! About love!"

"Now I didn't say that word."

"What word?"

"That word, Doc," Ronon laughed.

"I did not say anything!"

"You did."

"Did not!"

"We can dance round an' round all night, Doc. But you said that word and you know you did," Ronon laughed at the smaller man's large cursing. "And no-one says that word, until it's right there, hitting you upside the head, right up in your face."

"You're making as much sense as me!" Radek huffed, taking another drink.

"Beautiful. Dangerous. Distracting. Out of control. Not making sense. You said all of those, yes?"

"Did I? I suppose! It sums me up at the moment…"

"Classic symptoms!"

"What? Of what! Another alien disease!"

"Nope. You've got a bad case of falling in love, Doc!"

"No…"

"Yes! Here's to you Doc. And love!"

"Love…"

"So," Ronon smiled, as he watched the small scientist's face transform. The scared scowl went and a bright smile replaced it. He took another swig of his drink. Feeling happy for the other man, but remembering his lost Melena. "So… why don't you tell me about her?"

"Oh, she's got the most beautiful smile. Shy though, like me I suppose maybe? And her eyes, brown in the middle and a pretty green around the edge, like a cat… And her hair… Brown… But brown like mud or anything. Shiny. Like the hazelnuts that used to grow near our old house, in the hedges. She always wears it tied up and back, so I don't know how long it is though. It looks so soft… So soft… Like her touch… Oh Ježiš, but what am I talking about! I am making no sense!"

"You're making perfect sense, Doc. Hey, I know her though. I've seen her, in the mess hall."

"You have?"

Ronon laughed, as the smaller man raised his hackles and glared at him. "Not just me, but others too, have noted how you've been starin' at that one person, for some time now, every time you're in the mess hall she is and—"

"This place and its gossiping girls are—"

Ronon laughed. "I don't hold with gossiping, Doc, it's just what I've seen. So… What does her kiss feel like?"

"Kiss…? Oh no! No, no, no! We have not done any of that!"

"You've not kissed yet?"

"No…"

"What do you do together then, when you're together?"

"Together…? I… I do not… We have not… I have not…"

"What?"

"We have… We have shared a few smiles, a few words… Inconsequential words at that!"

"Wait! Wait, hold up, Doc! You're telling me you've not even spoken properly?"

"Um… Well… There was the time when… in the gate room and then there was the porridge and—"

"Porridge?"

"Yes. All over her and the datapad and the floor where she fell and—"

"You have women falling at your feet, Doc!" Ronon laughed.

"Uh… Yes, I suppose so!"

"Does she know how you feel about her?"

"Um…?"

"Ah. I see. Yes. Okay, Doc. I understand now!"

"You do?"

"Yes! And I know what the cure is!"

"You do! What is it!"

"Oh you're not gonna like it, Doc, not if I've read the room right, not if you're feeling all these feelings and haven't even spoken to her properly!" Ronon laughed.

"What is it! What must I do!"

"S'easy! Simplicity in itself!"

"What!"

"Tell her."

"Tell her? Tell her what?"

"How you feel."

"How I… What? You think I should just go up to her and tell her about the ridiculous feelings that I am feeling? Just like that?"

"Yes. Just like that. Easy. See?"

"Just open my shirt, hand her a knife or a gun?"

"She might stab you or shoot you. She might not. I see her smiling at you, did she flinch from your touch when she fell at your feet?"

"What? On, no, no, no! I helped her up and… Yes… No… Her fingers… Lightning… Twice! She did not shy from me, when I touched her! And she returned my accidental touch with a deliberate one…"

"She won't stab you or shoot you. She's no need. You're already shot, Doc!"

"What?"

"Already shot, she fired, bang! you've been shot, or stabbed. You've nothing to worry about. Tell her. She's yours."

"Mine…?"

"Mmmhmm…"

"Why though?"

"Why what?"

"Why me!"

"Why not?"

"Isn't it obvious! I am not you, I am not Colonel Sheppard, or Major Lorne! Or you! I am… Nothing…"

"Well, she sees something in you, Doc. Or we wouldn't be sitting here, drinking, with you trying to forget, but doing the opposite! If she wanted someone else, she wouldn't have shot you."

"Wouldn't have shot me… But…?"

"Why you?"

"Yes!"

"Pointless asking why a woman looks where they look. I should know… I've been rejected."

"Wait! You? Rejected! I find that difficult to believe!"

"Yeah. For McKay."

"Rodney!"

"She's not said outright yet. But I see the shot coming. And it'll hurt. But I'll move on. It wasn't a grand affair, like you and your lady love…"

"She's not mine…"

"You know what you gotta do though."

"Yes… No! I can't! It is… She will laugh and say no and… No, no, no! This is… No, no, no!"

"Told you. She won't. Now come on, Doc, let's celebrate!"

"Celebrate? You wish to celebrate my demise and my downfall and obliteration and descent into madness?"

"No! Celebrate that you've found love!"

"Love! Pah! Ridiculous! Me? Ha!"

"Happens to the best of us, Doc. To your woman!" He raised his new bottle up.

"Yes! To her! May she get out of my head!" Radek clinked his almost empty bottle with Ronon's empty one. Finishing his bottle, as the taller man opened another two, handing him one.

"But y'don't want her to go, not really, hmm?"

"No… Ježiš, no! I want… Her smile, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest plum slivovice. I want! I don't know what I want!"

"Her!"

"Yes!"

"Where is she, where, less go, less go get her her, get you, into her bed, plop, then you an her can…" Ronon made a rude gesture with his fingers. Or tried to, but his forefinger kept missing the circle made with his other forefinger and its opposing thumb. "C'mon! Where's she at?"

"I don't know!" Radek laughed. 

"Y'cn find out though. Y'know, do the," he mimicked tapping on a keyboard with the fingers of both his hands. "Doctor Zee magic!"

"I can't!"

"Why?"

"I locked myself out, so I couldn't. Deliberately! So I don't know!"

"McKay! He'll know… C'mon!" Ronon stood, swaying, spilling some of his drink.

"No… No… Shhhh! You cannot tell Rodney! I will never live that down! Oh, kurva!" Radek looed up, seeing another figure approach where they sat. "Shhh! Oh no. Shhhh! No! Be quiet, Ronon! Kurva! It is Colonel Sheppard! He will put me in the prison, or the brig or whatever it is they have here! I will get sent back to Earth and not see her ag—!"

"Shhheppard!" Ronon shouted out.

"What are you doing, Ronon! No! Shut up! Shut up!"

"What's this? A private hootenanny?" Sheppard stood, hands on hips, smiling down at the two swaying men. One smaller one trying to shut up the taller, larger, laughing one.

"Doctor Zee is stuck. No… Struck! Poor bastard has had his heart stuck and struck down by a pretty 'un! You know! The one who rejected you! But don't know where she's quartered so he can hook her! No, no thas no right. He wants to forget her. That's it, isn't it, Doc?"

"Uh… Zelenka…?"

"Er… What Ronon says?"

"Talk to me, Zelenka…" Sheppard smirked at the shorter man's red face and frown.

"Uh… Would you like a drink?"

"Okaaaay. Should I ask what this is?" Sheppard peered at the unlabeled bottle and its clear contents.

"S'not slivovice!" Ronon announced.

"Whatever that is! Come on then, budge up! How many bottles have you two had?"

"Um…" Zelenka blinked down at his hand, sloshing calculations around in his head. "Um… Some? Not enough though! She's still there, smiling at me, making everything… fuzzy!"

"Ah…" Sheppard nodded.

"A'woman… S'always a woman…" Ronon added nodding.

"The one who was smiling at me…?" Sheppard asked.

"Yes! You smiled at her! I remember!" Radek pushed himself to stand. "You… You tried to Kirk her from me!" He swayed and his finger swayed and the bottle in his hand swayed, as he pointed down at the middle one of the three Sheppards.

"Now don't get yourself all riled up here. You won the bet, you got the last smile, from what I remember?"

"Oh… Yes! I did!" Radek smirked and plopped himself to sit back down again. "She smiles at me and…" he made a loud explosion noise and waved his hands, indicating that the explosion was his head.

"She 'sploded his head, Sheppard. No mo science. Just pretty lady in there!" Ronon laughed.

"Ah. I see… So… You can't do your job because you're just thinking of her all the time?"

"Yes… Ridiculous isn't it!" Radek frowned.

"And you can't sleep because you're thinking of her?"

"Yes…"

"You're distracted, feeling useless?"

"Yes! I am fairly certain that we have been through this already?"

"Where's her quarters at?"

"I said that! But s'no good." Ronon shook his head. "Locked out. Door closed!" 

Radek nodded.

"What? She threw you out?" Sheppard asked.

"Didn't even got there. No tappy tappy power." Ronon mimicked fingers typing at a keyboard.

"Tappy… tappy…?" Sheppard asked.

"Locked out. Deliberately. From the programme. Too risky! No. Can't!" Radek shook his head, then groaned, as he wished that he hadn't.

"Hmmm… You might be, but I'm not!" Sheppard winked.

"No!"

"No?"

"Can't go."

"Can't?"

"Won't go."

"Won't?"

"S'an echooooo in here or…?" Ronon peered around him.

"Why? Scared? You chicken, Zelenka?" Sheppard taunted.

"What?" Radek frowned.

"No underwater rescuing, no need to go offworld for this mission, Zelenka, you'll be fine!" Sheppard nodded.

"No! It's waayyyyy more dangerous!" Radek shook his head.

"C'mon! Fair heart never won fair lady and all that?" Sheppard added, then downed half a bottle, trying to play catch up.

"No… Too… Drunk too much… No… Or not enough!" Radek peered at his half empty bottle.

"Yeah… Maybe you're right." Sheppard nodded. "Regulations. Rules. Woolsey would have my ass!" He took another swig. "Still… If you did know where her quarters were, I know exactly what you could do!"

"No! Doctor Zee said no sexing!" Ronon added.

"Ronon!" Radek shouted out, huffing at the taller man's giggles.

"Uh… I'll ignore that last remark. I was going to suggest that he sing. An old fashioned serenade! So… What would you sing, Zelenka?" Sheppard asked.

"Hmmm… Nothing too smooshy… Nothing… Doc's too nice to sing anything… Dirty!" Ronon nodded.

Radek recalled some of the songs that he had learned during his brief conscription and laughed. Especially a rude polka that did not involve rolling out any barrels but his reminiscences were interrupted by Colonel Sheppard.

"Ha! I know! Wait, wait! Listen…" Sheppard pulled up some music on Radek's abandoned datapad. "This! I've had success with this several times! Always works!"

"Nonono. Too…" Radek grimaced.

"Boring! Next!" Ronon shouted.