Mensa AU Fic Exchange: "Of Fools and Lovers" 1/3 for ras_elased

[trobadora]

Title: Of Fools and Lovers
Author: reulann
Main Mensa AU character: Mensa!Carter
Pairing: Mensa!Rod/Mensa!John
Setting: MENSA-verse
Rating: NC-17/R
Words: 16’130
Warnings: none
Notes: hi ras, as you can see, the story ran away with me a little, maybe a lot. With that many possibilities I wasn’t quite able to resist the temptation of including a few minor characters and giving the John/Rod aspect equal attentions as Sam’s POV. I hope you’ll enjoy the result.
Summary: Mensa!Carter comes to visit Atlantis, and follows Rod around like a pathetically smitten fangirl. What's John's reaction?
Recipient: ras_elased

Samantha Carter woke to a room filled with soft-colored light. The first rays of the Atlantean sun drew cheerful patterns across the walls; bringing out the colors in the tall, stained-glass windows. She could hear the sound of waves, gently lapping against the pier. Taking a deep breath, Sam savoured the hint of saltiness in the breeze coming through the half opened window. She'd made it! The thought made her hug her pillow to her chest in delight. Finally, she was where - for months now - she'd yearned to be.

Not willing to waste even one second of her precious stay here, Sam jumped out of bed, only to pull up short with a slight wince as not yet healed muscles protested the sudden abuse. A reminder of their latest mission, and their subsequent brush with the hostile natives of that place. But one thought overshadowed everything else; making even the pain of getting up too fast into a reason to be cheerful, she was in Atlantis.

Picking up her clothes from the chair where she'd put them yesterday evening before falling into bed, she headed for the shower while humming 'good morning sunshine' under her breath. Oh, yes, this promised to be a glorious day.

*        *        *

A few hours later, Sam was feeling if not quite as elated as she'd been upon waking, at least hopefully optimistic. All her carefully crafted plans to meet, and, hopefully, impress the hell out of, the man who had made her visit here possible in the first place had to be put on hold, because he happened to be on a re-con mission. Only the fact, that the team which included both Drs. McKay and Sheppard as well as Teyla Emmagan, leader of what remained of the Athosian people, and Ronon Dex - fearsome warrior and loyal protector of all his team mates, if the stories were to be believed - was expected back soon, helped her to curb the disappointment that had filled her at first.

It wasn't that anyone here on Atlantis had been treating her with less than the respect she rightfully deserved, on the contrary. The woman in charge of the first outpost Earth had managed to build in another galaxy, Dr. Elizabeth Weir herself, had welcomed her with kindness and had told her much about their first months here in Atlantis.

How they had found the city, empty and abandoned, yet at the same time, looking as if her former inhabitants had left only a short time ago; everything so well preserved they only had to pull off the dust covers to start working on the Lantean computers. The only exception had been those parts of the city that had sustained some serious water-damage before Dr. Sheppard had figured out a way to raise the city above the water, preventing even more damage to the piers and the delicate towers no longer protected by the shield. Apparently Atlantis' main computer had lain dormant, only powering up to draw back the shield by small increments to preserve the heart of the city which also housed the stargate, for as long a time as it could manage.

Samantha would have cheerfully traded her soul to have been present that day. It must have been thrilling to have the city wake slowly to the heirs of its makers; the wonders and the dangers of that first year, when nothing was sure except that every day could and would bring new challenges for the stranded expedition members.

Although Sam as well as the rest of SG-1 had had their own share of adventures, nothing could quite compare to the stories about Dr. McKay and his team of brilliant scientist who fought against the odds to preserve something that had only ever been a legend to the peoples of earth.

She had walked through a good part of the inhabitable parts of the city with Dr. Weir, listening carefully to everything she was told, and filling in the gaps the other woman left in her stories by intuition as well as by what Sam had read in the reports of those members of the military contingent returning from their tour on Atlantis.

How someone would wish to return back to Earth when give the opportunity to stay here and help discover all the knowledge and the wonders the majestic remnant of the Ancients' ingenuity preserved in its depths, would forever remain a mystery to Sam.

In all the reports, one name stood out, and well it should, she mused. Rod McKay was a man of great knowledge, skill and cunning, of that Sam was certain, judging by the contents of the exchanged data-bursts between his department and her lab in Colorado Springs.

That he could also be incredibly charming was an added bonus, in her opinion. And, soon, Sam would be able to add her own observations to the picture the tales of the man's successes in their shared field of work as well as in the mission reports had painted in her mind.

Samantha had yet to speak to Rod McKay in person, but they had worked on shared projects for a few months now. In fact, it had been due to his first suggestions concerning one of her pet-theories she had to thank for her success with the time-travel project. Apparently Sam's colleague, Dr. Leigh, who knew Dr. McKay from a lecture they'd both attended to last year, had told him about their recent dabblings with the concept. The supplied data from Atlantis' science team had made Sam's  work much easier.

SG-1 had tested the device and their findings had brought them another working ZPM, this one for the SGC, thus enabling her to visit Atlantis and to take part in something Dr. McKay's department had decided to share with their earth-based fellow scientists. The beginning of a wonderful friendship, Sam thought.

Strolling along with Dr. Weir pointing out the various laboratories, relaxation areas and the personal quarters of the city's main personnel, Sam could hardly wait to finally meet with the famous Dr. McKay eye to eye. She patted her jacket surreptitiously; making sure the latest book of the elusive object of her wandering thoughts was where she'd put it when getting dressed this morning. Daydreaming while nodding and making listening sounds, Samantha allowed herself to wallow in her very own fantasy-world...

*        *        *

...Sam would ask Dr. McKay for his autograph, telling him how much she enjoyed his new book. Of course, he'd inquire about her work and she would tell him of all her new ideas. Then, being the well mannered man rumour made him out to be, he would invite her to a meal in the mess-hall, strictly for professional reasons of course. She would spend the evening with him, talking about their work and, finally, he would confess to her that he hadn't known what a delight her company would turn out to be. He would smile his charming smile the media had captured every so often when the good doctor ventured out among his adoring public - most of whom didn't know that he wasn't really a recluse but living in another Galaxy - and invite her to share breakfast in the morning.  

Then, maybe, if things proceeded really well, he'd invite her for a nightcap before leaving her to her own devices...

*        *        *

Sam sighed happily, not noticing the little sideways glance Elizabeth Weir gave her before continuing her explanation on the way the transporter system worked for those without the ATA-gene. This would work out wonderfully, of that Sam was sure. She was an intelligent woman after all, with a plan that simply couldn't go wrong. Rod McKay would be hers, and she had three weeks to convince him of that. It was high time to make her fantasy into reality.

The book would be the key to the man's heart, she was sure, for all men she'd ever met loved compliments. Especially when one delivered them with well-chosen words and a pretty smile. Even though with his higher intellect, he might be drawn to her expertise as well as her looks. Still, Sam had learned the hard way that most men rather didn't think about the fact, that she hadn't earned her rank by making coffee for the general. No, she would stick to her plan and see how far it took her, before venturing into uncharted territory with this one.

Sam stroked the paperback lovingly. It would have been difficult to replace, if she had lost it. As it turned out, Rod McKay had a talent for writing both scientifically correct – thus impressing his colleagues - as well as entertaining enough to interest the laymen who wanted to learn a bit more about the mechanics of the universe they lived in. All his published works had turned into bestsellers and the current one was already being re-printed.

It was an open secret, back at home-base that Rod McKay had spent quite a lot of the royalties from his books on the Atlantis project. He had hand-picked most of the scientists, particularly the people he worked closest with.

One of them was Dr. John Sheppard, who had retired from the military and was working solely in his capacity as a researcher now. He was also the strongest carrier of the ATA-gene currently living on Atlantis, one of the lucky ones who had inherited the genetic makeup of those who had built this beautiful city with all the secrets it still held.

The second one had been Dr. Radek Zelenka, who had helped to patch up the Russian stargate after a serious malfunction a few years back. Sam had read his reports on the repairs he had made and it had helped her with her own work on their stargate as well. A pity, really, that Dr. Zelenka was more comfortable in his lab than out in the field.

That honor, sharing the dangers and adventures of first contact missions, getting to the newly discovered pieces of Ancient tech before those who stayed in their laboratories, had fallen to Dr. Sheppard. A man who, back at Cheyenne Mountain,  had a reputation as someone not known to work well with his fellow scientist as well as being the wielder of a sharp tongue, on occasion.

Stopping to greet some of the lab assistants swarming out of one of the smaller laboratories like worker ants – lunch break time apparently remained the same no matter which galaxy one found oneself in – Sam took her leave from Dr. Weir who had other obligations for the time being, and settled down to eat. She was using the relaxed atmosphere in the mess-hall to get a 'feel' for the overall mood of the place while munching contentedly on her not-quite-chicken sandwich. As long as one didn't ask about the actual contents of the food, the stuff was very tasty indeed.

Looking around, Sam noticed more civilian clothes than uniforms. Atlantis was neutral and relatively safe territory at the moment, and the military personnel was  probably glad to be abel to spent their off-time out of uniform when the situation allowed for it.

As someone who had worked on military projects for most of her adult life, Sam had been quite taken by the obvious changes between 'The Mountain' as most people here called her home-base and the Lantean Outpost, a name the natives of Teyla's planet had given the city during their short stay inside the ancient walls.

Atlantis, which was run and financed by private investors who allowed the military of the countries involved in Earth's stargate program to station troops in the city, both for the skilled scientists that had chosen a military career as well as for the protection of the involved civilians, was something unique in Earth's history. Made so by the ideals of the people who had financed the expedition as well as by the people who lived and worked here, and Sam was quite willing to prolong her stay as long as possible, preferably forever.

After finishing her lunch, she went to her next meeting with Dr. Weir, starting to find her way around on her own. The city had turned out to be more beautiful than Samantha had imagined and, waiting in Dr. Weir's office for the final introductions to the people she would be working with for the next three weeks, Sam let her mind wander a bit. Much to her chagrin, she had to admit that she had to thank her own team's rotten luck on their latest mission for this opportunity as well as her skill in her chose field of physics.

If Daniel hadn't been out of commission, if Sam herself hadn't been grounded to do only paperwork, the chance to fulfil her greatest wish would have passed her by. Someone out there really seemed to like her, for, in this case with the sour had come the sweet...

*        *        *

...Sam and a few other scientists had been working on 'project DeLorean' as Cameron Mitchell had teasingly dubbed it. She had been the head scientist of the project for a while already, and now she'd wanted to do the wrap-up of things herself. Sometimes, if she'd spent a very long time on one of her projects, Samantha found it hard to let it go, to let others use the discoveries she had paid for with so many sleepless, sometimes frustrating, but mostly rewarding nights.

She had sat in her lab, dabbling with some of Hermiod's theories - well the ones he let her look at anyway - when the pinging of her mailbox had made her check her account. She remembered hoping to find something slightly more entertaining and less frustrating than - what she suspected - the half truths their resident Asgard was allowed to tell them. She once had told Cameron Mitchell that if the little grey guy started to pat her on the head, she'd bite off his sneaky, secret keeping hand. Which was, of course, not quite fair of her. It wasn't Hermiod's fault his elders were so stingy with their accumulated knowledge, but, sometimes, it could be pretty annoying.

Sam had expected the message to be from Daniel. Maybe he had found some artifact with a funny story while back on the dig in Egypt, where he was supposed to rest and recuperate after their latest run in with a couple of not very enlightened townspeople.

Instead of finding new allies, the natives turned out to be superstitious and more willing to maim than barter. They'd apparently thought stoning someone for wearing 'the devil's eyes' as they'd dubbed poor Danny's glasses, was the right family entertainment for the evening. SG-1 had managed to teach them the errors of their ways or rather the value of the swift retreat if Sam was to be completely honest with herself. SG-1 had left the planet alive but a little the worse for wear. Being hit by rocks, even small ones, left you with nasty, deep bruising. She, T'ealc and Cameron had walked away relatively unscathed, but poor Daniel had sustained a nasty hit to the head, leaving him with a concussion as well as the need for yet another new pair of glasses.

When Jack O'Neill, former leader of SG-1, had heard about their latest scuffle he had not been amused. That was one of the few moments in their years of acquaintance Samantha had been glad she was 'only' the man's friend and former team mate and not his lover. Daniel had looked at her entreatingly but in the end had submitted to his lover's lecture on safety protocols and what not to do when making first contact with a new culture, such as taking off one's glasses to polish them with your handkerchief. As a compromise, Daniel consented to take the offered time off-base to appease his lover.

So, Jack and Danny had departed for sandy Egypt – lucky them, they had each other to keep boredom at bay - while Sam had remained on base, taking the time to work on a paper and tease Cameron Mitchell, former pilot and new leader of SG-1, into bringing her the blue jell-o she was so fond off.

After Jack had announced that he was really getting too old for this kind of life and would be working with them solely as an advisor from now on, Cam had turned out to be an interesting new valuable in the dynamics of their team. Younger than O'Neill, relatively easy going and ready to step between his team mates and potential danger, just like Jack but with an more open mind for strange occurrences than his predecessor. They fitted and worked well together as the last mission had proven.

To Sam's delight, the e-mail had turned out to be for her, from the handsome and mysterious Dr. McKay, whose insightful suggestions concerning her projects had helped her own work immensely. And now he wanted her to take part in the building of the new gate-bridge that would make them independent of the ZPM for travel between their two galaxies. Sam's subsequent squeal and happy-dance had brought both Dr. Leigh and Cameron rushing into her lab, the latter wielding his back-up gun and the former completely out of breath from crossing the small distance between Sam's lab and his own in a run. Telling them the good news with a nearly face-splitting grin, she hadn't noticed the shadow of regret that crossed over Cameron's face...

*        *        *

She was roused from her reminiscence when the gate-alarm announced the return of Dr. McKay's team. Sam rushed over to the window that overlooked the gate. Standing as close as possible to the window without actually pressing her face against the polished glass, she felt like a child again, looking through a shop-window at the object of her desire.

*        *        *

John Sheppard wasn't a happy man. Besides the fact that Rod had lumbered him with yet another addition to the science department without so much as a by-your-leave, the man quite obviously had the self-preservative instinct of a lemming, and that was probably badmouthing the animal in question.

The tall, blond woman with the smile that showed much to much teeth in his opinion, introduced herself as Dr. Samantha Carter, apparently a resident of the military base under Cheyenne Mountain. She would, mercifully, be gone in a few weeks time, or so he was told by Elizabeth before he drifted off into thoughts of hot showers and a warm bed. Maybe John would allow their fearless leader to stay alive a bit longer, he mused, already feeling less irritated at the thought of getting rid of all the accumulated dust.

Introductions and making nice with the new help seemed to be drawing to an end, finally. John perked up a bit. Therefore, when the object of his inner rant announced they would give their report to Elizabeth in the morning, John was starting to feel slightly more charitable towards McKay as well. One should always value good command decisions, even when one was angry at the person issuing said decisions.

Even Ronon did his part in getting them out of pesky report duty, just as he'd promised John earlier, alleviating John's irritation about the whole, ridiculous incident. The anger John had felt, when he'd threatened to leave McKay to face the results of all his sweet talking the alien head-woman without  his team coming to his rescue for once, had started to abate, albeit slowly, after that.

Now, trying to look worn out in a manly warrior sort of way, the big man cast an entreating look in Elizabeth's direction, slouching down a bit while citing a need for both food and rest. How the hell Ronon of all people managed to look so woebegone would forever remain a mystery to John, but as long as it worked he didn't care, much.

The man was a walking mountain for god's sake, Elizabeth chose to ignore that fact, occasionally. Ever since they'd brought Ronon home, Elizabeth seemed to have developed a soft spot for the Satedan. To each his own, as long as it got John where he longed to be, out of the itchy, sandy clothes and in his nice, comfortable bed, preferably after a long, hot shower. This was yet another thing he didn't miss about military life. The beds had sucked, big time, and not in the good way.

As for Rod, the man had his uses after all and John had no intention to go and break in another department head. Plus, he couldn't quite suppress the memory of what it had felt like to have him vanish into a space-time anomaly, leaving John and their team mates with only the vaguest of hopes that Rod - together with whomever he would find on the other side – would be able to return to them.

When Rod had been gone for over two weeks, Elizabeth had carefully suggested that John should think of taking over Rod's place in the team and start working on Radek to rid the Czech of his reluctance in joining them as their fourth. They needed to find a solution, to prepare for the eventuality that the rift in the fabric of space and time couldn't be closed by either them or those who had caused it in the first place, or so she'd argued.

John had to calmly remind Ronon, that it wasn't polite to shoot the expedition leader who also happened to be the woman with blackmail material on most of the important people on earth. At least on those who held the power to stop the military supply runs to Atlantis.

John had needed Teyla and her banto-sticks to make the argument, well, stick. Because, even if Ronon knew that Sheppard was a brilliant shot with almost any kind of gun, he knew as well that John wouldn't shoot him. At least not over this. Allowing Rod to do something particularly stupid and dangerous which would probably end in forced matrimony – well, that would be another matter entirely. And John'd had his own share in their current predicament, because he could have cheated to be the one to go and try to contact the people whose experiment threatened to tear their world apart, but had chosen to play by Rod's rules instead. So, allowing Ronon to blame Elizabeth for forsaking their friend wasn't right and John could be blamed for many things, but being a hypocrite wasn't one of them.

Strangely, Elizabeth's liking of the tall man hadn't suffered from his show of temper, quite the contrary. And no, John would rather not think about why Elizabeth was starting to make excuses to their new arrival who didn't seem to mind in the last, all of her attention focused on 'The Famous Dr. Rod McKay'.

Ugh, John really needed to get out of here, before he did or said something he might, for once, regret. The blonde nuisance would still be around in the morning and he'd have more than enough time to evaluate her uses when he'd had at least twelve hours uninterrupted sleep. Teyla had nodded a 'good night' in Rod's direction, and smiled her patented 'all-will-be-well-just-stay-calm' smile at John before she’d left.  More than willing to follow her example, John looked back at McKay, taking in the way Dr. Carter kept stepping closer to Rod, whose attention was still on Elizabeth.

Three, two, one and yes, ladies and gentleman, there goes another one. And there also went his last shred of goodwill, because, judging by Rod's reaction when Dr. Carter took hold of his arm as if invited by him to take it, the man didn't have a clue what was happening right under his nose, again.

What did it take to get it into McKay's thick skull that one really was allowed to put a bit of distance between oneself and the rest of the population, even if said remnant consisted of a woman, how shocking. John didn't understand how the man could fall for the same trick every time John didn't run interference.

*        *        *

Obviously, John had been too tired, he'd not paid attention, because he had been too busy trying not to strangle their fearless leader for nearly getting married to head priestess Fiorah, yet another prime example of the pegasus galaxy's finest, just hours ago. Even Ronon had warned McKay, maybe not in so many words but he'd tried to shield Rod from Fiorah's clutches as much as possible. Rod, of course hadn't wanted to be impolite and, afterwards, when John had told him in an extremely agitated and not in the least polite way that the next time Rod had better be prepared to go through with all the marriage rituals, the man had actually had the gall to tell him, it had all been a misunderstanding. How could one misunderstand the five foot tall female that had stayed almost constantly by Rod's side, making cow-eyes at him.

Sheppard had told him more than once that making friendly with the natives has to have its limits and even Teyla agreed with him on this one. 

All the imbecilic example of either obliviousness or sheer joy in riling Sheppard up – and John wasn't quite sure about the latter possibility being the truer of the two - had been to laugh. Laugh! At him! The only thing keeping him from shutting the man up with more than his scathing wit, had been Teyla's tight grip on his gun-arm. Then, Ronon had stepped between John and his intended target and, while the tall man could be quite infuriating at times, today wasn't one of them. They'd hightailed it out of the village, barely getting away from dear Fiorah's loving family and Ronon had taken Rod into the back of the jumper to have a talk, warrior to warrior, while Teyla had sat down in the co-pilot's seat, trying in vain to keep a giggle from escaping.

“He really should learn how to read a woman's intentions better. It is quite...” she giggled again, trying valiantly not to let the full belly laugh escape that John could see lurking behind her beautiful eyes. Understanding her mirth only too well; his mood lightening as he answered her merriment with a grin of his own, John had concentrated on getting them home.

As always, flying the gate-jumper managed to put him in a much better mood, more relaxing than any meditation technique Teyla could teach him, of that John was certain. Watching the flight controls, he sorted through the muddle in his brain – they hadn't slept much, thanks to the ongoing party they'd been invited to – and started to let go of his irritation in slow increments.

*        *        *

While John knew himself and was well aware of his own faults when it came to interacting with people, Rod's obsession with making nice and being friends with every culture they happened to meet just wasn't healthy. Making that fact clear to their stubborn team-leader was turning out to be the hard part. It was like Rod had an autopilot setting for situations that required diplomacy and a certain degree of politeness.

The long talks they'd had after Rod's return from 'the other Atlantis', had helped a bit, had managed to bring them closer as a team. Though Rod had gotten better at relating to Teyla, meaning he'd stopped trying to explain her own heritage to her, and had started to draw back from his duties on the Athosian council as well, it hadn't been an easy time for the four of them.

The Athosian elders had all but pushed the no longer wanted duties on McKay. Damn, the old coots who'd had decided right from the beginning they'd rather have a stranger sitting in on their meetings than Teyla, who ought to have been the one to offer them to. They hadn't wanted to admit that their future lay in Teyla's delicate, very capable but female hands, aware that she would change a lot of things that needed to change in John's opinion. The council wouldn't know what hit them when Teyla was finished with the lot and John would love to be a fly on the wall on that council-meeting. Even Teyla's father gave her a wide berth every time their paths crossed, much to Rod's and John's amusement.

Teyla had started to talk and laugh more, even with Rod around, because after they'd almost lost the man for good, John hadn't been the only one to try and make things change between them. Mostly it worked out well, too, except for days like today.

Sometimes John almost regretted the changes. He missed the calming if somewhat  pointless discussions with the other members of Atlantis' resident Mensa chapter, and it had been decidedly less exhausting, not too mention less headache inducing to keep Rod and the others at a distance, emotionally speaking. Hell, he'd really had been angry with Rod back on that damn backwater world. All the fuss and confusion wouldn't have been necessary if the man would only realise what he implicated with his behaviour. But here he was, team mate and maybe more of one Rod McKay, who was sure to someday be dubbed 'the man most often almost married in all the known galaxies.' And, judging by the coveting gleam in Miss Carter’s blue, blue eyes, this was yet another successful, if involuntarily made, conquest.

Stuffing his clenched fists into the pockets of his mission jacket, much more practical and less flashy than the leather one Rod was so fond of, he suffered in silence through the rest of the lengthy introductions. First Miko who happened by on her way to dinner and then Radek managed to catch up to their small group as well and had to pretend to fawn over someone they barely knew. All a stupid waste of his precious time, and slowly, John could feel his former bad mood reviving with a vengeance.

When it was John's turn to shake hands and make nice, he barely managed to unclench both teeth and hand enough to be polite. One thing he missed about being in the military; it may have been full of self-important morons, but no one would have threatened to fire him for being mean to the newbies. He had much more important things to do than make nice with possible sponsors and sycophants, and, to be honest, he wasn't very good at it. He simply lacked the patience, or as some colleagues had whispered behind his back, the humility, to bother with small talk and preferred a strategic retreat to publicly sucking up to idiots.

Now, he took one last look at charming, smiling and quite chatty Dr. Samantha Carter, and could have cheerfully strangled her. Or maybe toss her in front of the opening stargate to make her go wooshing out of existence. Instead, he managed the required three sentences: Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about your great work. We'll see each other tomorrow, lab seven at 1200.

His barely audible, 'have to run and look up the new data', earned him a sternly disapproving look from Elizabeth, but at the moment he didn't give a damn about her idea of proper relations with ones new colleagues.

It wasn't that John hated women per se. He liked Teyla, maybe even loved the Athosian in a brotherly, completely platonic way and Elizabeth was not only his boss, but also someone John considered a friend. As for other people, as long as they did their jobs well when John had to work with them, had something even fractionally intelligent to say, or left him to do his own research in the peace and quiet of his private lab, John didn't care which shape they came in. There were even a very select few he liked to spend his off time with, though recently, the occasions to do so had been nearly nill. He was neither a real recluse nor was he a psychopath in deep cover, but something in the way Dr. Carter flashed a cheerful smile in McKay's direction every time Dr. Oblivious said something to her, set John's teeth on edge.

What the hell was she thinking? That Rod would take one look at her and beg her to bear his offspring? John barely suppressed a shudder at the mere thought. She wasn't even the first one to think that all it took to charm the notorious Dr. McKay into thinking they were the best thing since the invention of blue jell-o was a bright smile and a never ending stream of compliments. More fool her, then.

Turning away from the spectacle no one but him seemed to take any notice of, John made his way towards the safety of his quarters, absolutely not stung by the fact that no one seemed to take any notice of his departure.

*        *        *

Continued in part two and part three...