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gilascavePrevious chapters are here:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Sequel to Alone in Your Mind
"OK, people, let's make this short and sweet." John looked around the planet they'd just walked onto. Teyla and Ford were already walking ahead and Rodney was standing on the stone steps, doing something to his harness. "Rodney?" He walked over to check Rodney's gear -- not that they hadn't all checked each other's gear before they left Atlantis, with Bates doubling checking all of them.
"Yes?" Rodney looked up with that clueless, scientist-in-the-field expression. John had to stop himself from giving him a quick kiss. Not that Teyla or Ford would care, but John had a strict policy about not fooling around when they were on duty.
When he was on duty, anyway. When Rodney was working in the lab, all bets were off. Unless there were big cardboard signs telling him what would blow up if he distracted the man working on something.
"Are you coming?"
Rodney's mouth twitched. "Not at the moment, thank you."
There was a muffled cough from Ford's direction. John just gave Rodney a smug grin. "Then let's go meet the locals, shall we?"
"Oh, definitely. I just...who designed these things, anyway?"
"It's supposed to do that," John told him for the millionth time. "So you don't lose your stuff when you're running through the bushes being chased by people with guns."
"Oh, now I feel so much better. Teyla, I thought you said these people were peaceful and didn't have technology much advanced past making farming tools."
"They are peaceful," Teyla confirmed. "And they do not have guns. But they are not defenseless."
"So you're saying we might get shot at? By arrows or spears or something?" Rodney asked as though seriously expecting them to say yes.
John just shook his head and shared a grin with Teyla.
"Looks like we go this way?" Ford said, pointing towards the edge of the forest. There was a small break there, which hinted at a path. The rest of the clearing was just grass, surrounded by an unbroken line of trees.
"We do," Teyla said, nodding. "We will get partway there, then the scouts will have alerted the village to our arrival. We will be met at the edge of the village's fields."
'So don't do anything threatening," John told Rodney. "We're being watched."
Rodney frowned, worried. "Like what? What would they consider threatening?"
John didn't answer. He started walking towards the path, following Ford and Teyla. After a second, he heard Rodney scrambling to catch up.
"You're kidding, right? We're not going to get shot because we accidently insult their grandmothers or holy farm animals?" Rodney kept pace beside him, half turned towards him as though ready at a moment's notice to leap behind John and use him as a shield.
"I don't know, Rodney," he said patiently. "I've never met them before. Maybe you should ask Teyla."
Not that Teyla hadn't told them everything she knew, before they'd decided to visit. The Malconians seemed like a good choice for trading partners -- the usual services of advanced farming techniques and metal tools, as well as medical assistance, in exchange for food, clothing, and allies. Teyla had visited the planet before, though the Athosians did not often trade with them. Both people had had basically the same resources and little trade had been necessary except when one or the other suffered something like a drought.
But Rodney had sat in on the briefings just as John and Ford had, so he knew everything John knew about what to expect. Which made it all the more fun to be able to tease him this way.
"But you made it sound like I'm likely to do something to piss them off," Rodney continued. "The incident on Garthis wasn't my fault, you know. And really, no one got hurt."
John smirked. "Not for lack of trying. It's a good thing they have lousy aim, or Carson wouldn't have let you go on any more offworld missions."
Rodney frowned, no doubt remembering the way Carson had reacted when they'd come back from Garthis. No one *had* been hurt, but Rodney had told him in great detail how close he'd come to getting his head chopped off.
John had spent a week reassuring Carson that it *hadn't* been anywhere near as close as Rodney had made it sound, before Carson calmed down enough to agree that locking Rodney in a storage room was probably overdoing it.
"He really is a bit...overprotective," Rodney said, smiling ever so slightly.
"He's the one who has to patch us up," John reminded him.
"Oh, I don't mind that part of it," Rodney said, making a leap in logic that John didn't try to follow. "It's the way he looks at you, right before he delivers those blistering lectures. He's worse than my grandmother when she'd get after me for destroying her kitchen with the chemistry set she gave me. Why she gave it to me if she didn't want me using it I'll never know."
John stifled a laugh at the comparison -- especially since he agreed completely. But he knew Carson wouldn't take kindly to being compared to a 70 year old biddy, even if he did occasionally act like one.
"Although I have to admit," Rodney continued, falling half a step back as they entered the woods. The path was wide enough for one, but not quite enough for two. John paused and waved Rodney past him -- he didn't want Rodney to be the one bringing up the rear. Rodney gave him a brielfy confused look, then he sighed in consternation. John didn't respond, because they'd had this conversation before. Trained soldier versus scientist who still didn't remember to reload his gun? No real contest who brought up the rear.
"Admit what?" John asked.
"Well...and don't tell him I said this. But I don't really mind the lectures."
John smirked. As though this was news? But aloud he said, "Because his accent gets stronger?"
"No." Rodney glanced over his shoulder and gave him a quelling look. "Well, not just that, because yes, that's an excellent reason to get him annoyed. Have you noticed that if you piss him off enough, he becomes nearly impossible to understand? God, it's really hard not to just throw him down and--" He stopped as he realised, no doubt, that Teyla and Ford were only a few feet ahead of him. "Kiss him," he finished.
Fuck him, John amended. "Really?" he asked, innocently. "You like the accent?"
He got another quelling look, but John didn't feel particularly quelled. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the fact that Rodney loved hearing Carson speak. It was the fact that Rodney thought it was all about lust, that amused him the most.
"So you *want* to get shot with an arrow, so we can go back and let him patch you up?" John asked.
"I think *you* should get shot," Rodney countered. "That way I can listen to him yell at you."
"You like the way he tells me not to get shot, huh?"
Rodney sighed, and there was a definite tone of happiness there. "It's nice, you know? Having someone fuss over you."
"You don't have to get yourself shot, to get him to fuss," John felt compelled to point out. His luck Rodney would get shot and blame it on him. Carson would go straight to yelling in Gaelic and bypass the incoherent brogue.
"Believe me, I'm not planning on getting shot. I don't actually enjoy pain." He gave John another look, which John interpreted as referring to the things other than being attacked by unfriendly natives. John didn't mind -- he and Carson had enough fun, even with Rodney hiding in the other room pretending he didn't know what they were doing.
"So, maybe a bruise?" John suggested. "A sprained ankle?"
"I thought you were saying I didn't have to get injured to get Carson to fuss?"
"You don't. I'm just saying...a little boo-boo would be sufficient."
Rodney stopped and looked at him. "I can't believe you just used the word 'boo-boo'."
John grinned. "Does'ems want'em boo-boo?"
Rodney rolled his eyes -- definitely some cross-pollination going on. Maybe they both did it before they met, and now Carson and Rodney just reinforced each other's gestures. "I think I'm going to go have my conversation with Ford."
"I can't help you with Dr. Beckett," Ford called back hastily. "If you want him to...fuss over you, I think the Major would be the better one to ask."
"I don't *want* him to fuss," Rodney insisted. "I'm just saying it's *nice*."
"Because his accent gets stronger," John prompted, wondering if he could get Rodney to actually say it.
"No. Yes, but mostly because -- look, it's just..." He shook his head.
"It's nice," John said, taking pity on him.
"Yeah." Rodney nodded, and they walked for a ways in silence.
John couldn't tell if Rodney really didn't get it, or if he just didn't want to say anything in front of the others. But John knew exactly what Rodney meant. Carson cared enough to lecture, to get sincerely angry when Rodney got hurt. He loved Rodney -- even if he didn't say so it out loud when Rodney could hear.
Of course, Carson also tended to lecture a little when John got hurt, but that was because the only time he'd come back from a mission injured since they'd got together, he'd had a dislocated shoulder and lost all the skin off his right hand. Rodney tended to come back with scrapes, bruises, and almost but not quite decapitations.
But no matter how slight the injury, Carson would always react like Rodney had gone off to an alien planet and nearly got himself killed. Which, from Carson's point of view -- was probably exactly what Rodney was doing. John watched Rodney walking along, following after Teyla. He wasn't nearly as incompetent in the field as John had first thought when he'd found out he needed to take the physicist along with them. He did have excellent aim with his sidearm even if he didn't really have the instincts of a military man. He'd got a lot more confident, as well, and had almost totally given up the idea that he was a coward.
Unfortunately, it made him more likely to get himself shot, John realised. Running around on other planets feeling confident and skilled enough to run towards dangerous situations, unlike Carson who was back in Atlantis, safe from pretty much everything except overwork and worry. Worry about Rodney going off to another world and coming back with stories about nearly getting his head chopped off.
John determined that he'd just keep a closer eye on Rodney and make sure he got back without any dents at all.
~~~
It really wasn't going to work. Carson sighed and sat back, letting the broken capacitor roll onto its side.
The diagram was perfectly clear. The schematics, when he turned them every which way including inside and out, showed him in great detail how the thing should look. The one in front of him matched those schematics in every single way that he could detect. And it didn't work.
Neither he nor Murdoc could figure out why, and everything they'd tried resulted in a capacitor that to all appearances ought to be working perfectly. Only it didn't.
Perhaps Murdoc was right, and he ought to hand the thing over to one of the engineers and let *them* play with the stupid thing. They liked fiddling with tools and machines that didn't work no matter how many times you made it look like the original. Weir had told him to recruit assistants; perhaps it was time to take her up on that offer.
Rodney had given him a short list of names, culled from the long list of volunteers. Rodney had said that the names he passed along were those who were actually competent as well as people it wasn't impossible to work with. Rodney had made it clear that he expected to be there, regardless of whether Carson decided to ask for actual assistants.
Setting the capacitor aside, Carson decided to head up to talk to Weir now. He left his tools scattered on the table, knowing that no one would be in to bother them.
As he walked up to the control center, he reviewed the list of names. All of them had been among those following him around that first month. A few of them he knew personally and had no hesitation about working with them on a regular basis. Drs Zelenka and St. Arnaud in particular were engineers who Carson thought would be perfect -- possibly better choices than he for the job. Dr. Raderson was also on Rodney's list, but Carson wasn't as certain about her.
She had an excellent record, of course -- else she wouldn't have been in Atlantis in the first place. But she was among the new personnel, and Carson found himself prefering to choose among those who had already been here. Being able to do the work was one thing, but being able to deal with Atlantis was entirely another.
You think she will not adapt? Murdoc asked.
Carson started to shake his head, then stopped himself as he remembered he was not alone in the hallway. "Too early to tell," he thought. "And simple enough to wait a bit, and see." Granted, it had been nearly three months since the new personnel had arrived. But Carson still felt as though it was too soon to hand something like this over to one of the new arrivals.
Her record suggests she would be an ideal candidate, however.
"Aye, but...I just don't feel comfortable throwing her into this. Bad enough we hale people away from their home, we don't need to put things in their hands which could blow us all to kingdom come."
You know we wouldn't-- Murdoc began.
"I know, I know. I'm just saying, I'd rather not risk it when there's experienced personnel to choose from. I trust Radek and Jean-Paul; they've both seen enough to know the risks." Carson couldn't keep the grim expression off his face; he gave up trying to keep his face impassive as he walked. The others would just have to deal, as Rodney and John had learned to do.
At least he'd learnt not to talk out loud.
When he reached Dr. Weir's office, he and Murdoc had agreed on five names. The rest they'd keep in mind and review at some future point. Carson went to the door to Dr. Weir's office; a moment later it opened.
Dr. Weir looked up. "I got your email that you wanted to see me?" She looked caught between being worried and being diplomatically supportive -- waiting to find out what this was about.
"Aye, it's about those technical assistants. I think I'd like to get a few, if you don't mind."
"Not at all!" she said, beaming at him. It made him feel like he'd done exactly the right thing, and he wondered how long she'd been waiting for him to ask. Well, since she'd first made the offer, of course. She nodded him towards the chair and he sat down. "Who did you have in mind? Other than Rodney." She grinned, and Carson smiled back.
"I think there'd be a great deal of trouble if I didn't include him. Lord knows why he didn't become an engineer rather than an astrophysicist."
Maybe he just doesn't like to be left out of the fun, Murdoc whispered.
Didn't like to share his toys, was probably more accurate, Carson thought. Out loud, he said, "If they're still willing, I'd like Drs Zelenka, St. Arnaud, Masterson, O'Riley, and Grodin."
"Of course." Weir nodded again and turned to her laptop. "If they agree, I'm happy to approve any change of their duty which you and they see fit. We're not nearly as short-handed as we were, so there's no problem if any of them want to take this on full-time."
"Oh." That surprised Carson. "Yes, if they want to. I'm afraid I haven't quite figured out how this is going to work, but I wanted to let you know I needed some help."
"I understand." She paused, looking concerned. "Have you decided to go back to working in the infirmary? Is your and Dr. Collin's arragenment working out?"
"Oh, it is. It's working quite well. I never actually thanked you, did I, for letting us do it."
Dr. Weir nodded. "I think it's an excellent compromise but...why didn't you say something before I hired her?"
Carson blinked at her. "Before you hired her?"
"Before I told her I needed a new Chief Medical Officer."
Carson stared at her. "I didn't know about it until you told me."
Dr. Weir nodded. "And you had three weeks to let me know you only wanted an assistant, not a replacement."
"Three weeks?"
"Three weeks, after I sent the first message. When we went back to Earth--" She stopped, and frowned. "Carson, you *did* get my message, right?"
"What message?"
Dr. Weir sighed, and shook her head. "I think that explains a great deal. While we were on Earth, I sent messages back once a week. Major Sheppard responded to each one to let me know things were going well, that there wasn't any trouble. The first week I included a message to you, asking you about getting you some administrative help for the Medical Department. John said he'd let you know. When you didn't reply, I asked if you minded if I hired someone to be the new head of the department, because...I met Dr. Collin and she seemed perfect for it, and I thought you'd prefer to be freed up to do your own work. Your genetics research, as well as the maintainence work."
Carson shook his head, slowly. He didn't remember John saying anything....Oh. Yes, he did. He felt himself blushing furiously. "Aye, he...mentioned I had mail. Not the content, but then...I...." He cleared his throat and tried not to look at Dr. Weir, or her desk. John had been here, listening to Dr. Weir's first message when he and Rodney had come in.
Carson had ended up on his knees right where Dr. Weir was sitting, now.
Dr. Weir, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Carson coughed. "I forgot he told me."
And wasn't John going to be in a shitload of trouble, when they got back from offworld.
Weir seemed to be holding back a smile. "I had wondered why you didn't seem to care. My second message said that if you didn't have an opinion either way, I'd go ahead and hire her as CMO. When you didn't respond...."
"When I didn't respond, you thought I was agreeing." Carson sighed. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."
"Well, I'm glad to finally know what happened." She paused and blushed a bit, herself, which made Carson blush harder as he realised she must have guessed what, at least in general, had happened. She cleared her throat and continued, "I really hadn't meant to...upset you by surprising you with Dr. Collin. When Rodney told me how you'd reacted, I thought maybe I'd missed your response telling me how you felt."
"Ah. No." Carson shook his head and frantically tried to think of a way to move the conversation onto something else -- something that didn't make him think about giving John a blowjob. "So, ah, the engineers..."
Dr. Weir nodded quickly. "That's fine. Did you...want to train them to take over, so you can focus on your research? Thank you, by the way, for getting those reports to me." She grinned.
"Sorry. Paperwork really isn't my strong suit." It never had been, and he'd spent most of his adult life being asked by his supervisors if he wouldn't mind please getting it done. Carson shook his head. "It's just there's simply too much work to do -- and I think trained engineers will be better at some of it than I am. Even with Murdoc's direction."
Weir frowned. "Who's Murdoc?"
"Huh? Oh. The interface."
Her frown grew deeper. "You've named it?"
Carson shrugged. "It seemed odd to be having conversations with something that didn't have a name. It means 'protector of the sea' -- I thought it appropriate."
"I see." She nodded, very slowly. "By conversations, you mean the automated responses?"
"Yes. Does it bother you I named it?" Carson frowned.
"No, no. I just...was surprised, is all." She smiled, obviously trying to force herself to relax. "I suppose it's human nature to name things."
Carson nodded, relieved she wasn't over-reacting. He didn't fancy going through the entire brain-scan rigamarole again. "Oh, aye. It suits him. And he seems to like it."
Suddenly Weir was staring at him again, no longer looking relaxed at all.
Carson frowned.
I think you're going to be getting another brain-scan, Murdoc said.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Sequel to Alone in Your Mind
"OK, people, let's make this short and sweet." John looked around the planet they'd just walked onto. Teyla and Ford were already walking ahead and Rodney was standing on the stone steps, doing something to his harness. "Rodney?" He walked over to check Rodney's gear -- not that they hadn't all checked each other's gear before they left Atlantis, with Bates doubling checking all of them.
"Yes?" Rodney looked up with that clueless, scientist-in-the-field expression. John had to stop himself from giving him a quick kiss. Not that Teyla or Ford would care, but John had a strict policy about not fooling around when they were on duty.
When he was on duty, anyway. When Rodney was working in the lab, all bets were off. Unless there were big cardboard signs telling him what would blow up if he distracted the man working on something.
"Are you coming?"
Rodney's mouth twitched. "Not at the moment, thank you."
There was a muffled cough from Ford's direction. John just gave Rodney a smug grin. "Then let's go meet the locals, shall we?"
"Oh, definitely. I just...who designed these things, anyway?"
"It's supposed to do that," John told him for the millionth time. "So you don't lose your stuff when you're running through the bushes being chased by people with guns."
"Oh, now I feel so much better. Teyla, I thought you said these people were peaceful and didn't have technology much advanced past making farming tools."
"They are peaceful," Teyla confirmed. "And they do not have guns. But they are not defenseless."
"So you're saying we might get shot at? By arrows or spears or something?" Rodney asked as though seriously expecting them to say yes.
John just shook his head and shared a grin with Teyla.
"Looks like we go this way?" Ford said, pointing towards the edge of the forest. There was a small break there, which hinted at a path. The rest of the clearing was just grass, surrounded by an unbroken line of trees.
"We do," Teyla said, nodding. "We will get partway there, then the scouts will have alerted the village to our arrival. We will be met at the edge of the village's fields."
'So don't do anything threatening," John told Rodney. "We're being watched."
Rodney frowned, worried. "Like what? What would they consider threatening?"
John didn't answer. He started walking towards the path, following Ford and Teyla. After a second, he heard Rodney scrambling to catch up.
"You're kidding, right? We're not going to get shot because we accidently insult their grandmothers or holy farm animals?" Rodney kept pace beside him, half turned towards him as though ready at a moment's notice to leap behind John and use him as a shield.
"I don't know, Rodney," he said patiently. "I've never met them before. Maybe you should ask Teyla."
Not that Teyla hadn't told them everything she knew, before they'd decided to visit. The Malconians seemed like a good choice for trading partners -- the usual services of advanced farming techniques and metal tools, as well as medical assistance, in exchange for food, clothing, and allies. Teyla had visited the planet before, though the Athosians did not often trade with them. Both people had had basically the same resources and little trade had been necessary except when one or the other suffered something like a drought.
But Rodney had sat in on the briefings just as John and Ford had, so he knew everything John knew about what to expect. Which made it all the more fun to be able to tease him this way.
"But you made it sound like I'm likely to do something to piss them off," Rodney continued. "The incident on Garthis wasn't my fault, you know. And really, no one got hurt."
John smirked. "Not for lack of trying. It's a good thing they have lousy aim, or Carson wouldn't have let you go on any more offworld missions."
Rodney frowned, no doubt remembering the way Carson had reacted when they'd come back from Garthis. No one *had* been hurt, but Rodney had told him in great detail how close he'd come to getting his head chopped off.
John had spent a week reassuring Carson that it *hadn't* been anywhere near as close as Rodney had made it sound, before Carson calmed down enough to agree that locking Rodney in a storage room was probably overdoing it.
"He really is a bit...overprotective," Rodney said, smiling ever so slightly.
"He's the one who has to patch us up," John reminded him.
"Oh, I don't mind that part of it," Rodney said, making a leap in logic that John didn't try to follow. "It's the way he looks at you, right before he delivers those blistering lectures. He's worse than my grandmother when she'd get after me for destroying her kitchen with the chemistry set she gave me. Why she gave it to me if she didn't want me using it I'll never know."
John stifled a laugh at the comparison -- especially since he agreed completely. But he knew Carson wouldn't take kindly to being compared to a 70 year old biddy, even if he did occasionally act like one.
"Although I have to admit," Rodney continued, falling half a step back as they entered the woods. The path was wide enough for one, but not quite enough for two. John paused and waved Rodney past him -- he didn't want Rodney to be the one bringing up the rear. Rodney gave him a brielfy confused look, then he sighed in consternation. John didn't respond, because they'd had this conversation before. Trained soldier versus scientist who still didn't remember to reload his gun? No real contest who brought up the rear.
"Admit what?" John asked.
"Well...and don't tell him I said this. But I don't really mind the lectures."
John smirked. As though this was news? But aloud he said, "Because his accent gets stronger?"
"No." Rodney glanced over his shoulder and gave him a quelling look. "Well, not just that, because yes, that's an excellent reason to get him annoyed. Have you noticed that if you piss him off enough, he becomes nearly impossible to understand? God, it's really hard not to just throw him down and--" He stopped as he realised, no doubt, that Teyla and Ford were only a few feet ahead of him. "Kiss him," he finished.
Fuck him, John amended. "Really?" he asked, innocently. "You like the accent?"
He got another quelling look, but John didn't feel particularly quelled. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the fact that Rodney loved hearing Carson speak. It was the fact that Rodney thought it was all about lust, that amused him the most.
"So you *want* to get shot with an arrow, so we can go back and let him patch you up?" John asked.
"I think *you* should get shot," Rodney countered. "That way I can listen to him yell at you."
"You like the way he tells me not to get shot, huh?"
Rodney sighed, and there was a definite tone of happiness there. "It's nice, you know? Having someone fuss over you."
"You don't have to get yourself shot, to get him to fuss," John felt compelled to point out. His luck Rodney would get shot and blame it on him. Carson would go straight to yelling in Gaelic and bypass the incoherent brogue.
"Believe me, I'm not planning on getting shot. I don't actually enjoy pain." He gave John another look, which John interpreted as referring to the things other than being attacked by unfriendly natives. John didn't mind -- he and Carson had enough fun, even with Rodney hiding in the other room pretending he didn't know what they were doing.
"So, maybe a bruise?" John suggested. "A sprained ankle?"
"I thought you were saying I didn't have to get injured to get Carson to fuss?"
"You don't. I'm just saying...a little boo-boo would be sufficient."
Rodney stopped and looked at him. "I can't believe you just used the word 'boo-boo'."
John grinned. "Does'ems want'em boo-boo?"
Rodney rolled his eyes -- definitely some cross-pollination going on. Maybe they both did it before they met, and now Carson and Rodney just reinforced each other's gestures. "I think I'm going to go have my conversation with Ford."
"I can't help you with Dr. Beckett," Ford called back hastily. "If you want him to...fuss over you, I think the Major would be the better one to ask."
"I don't *want* him to fuss," Rodney insisted. "I'm just saying it's *nice*."
"Because his accent gets stronger," John prompted, wondering if he could get Rodney to actually say it.
"No. Yes, but mostly because -- look, it's just..." He shook his head.
"It's nice," John said, taking pity on him.
"Yeah." Rodney nodded, and they walked for a ways in silence.
John couldn't tell if Rodney really didn't get it, or if he just didn't want to say anything in front of the others. But John knew exactly what Rodney meant. Carson cared enough to lecture, to get sincerely angry when Rodney got hurt. He loved Rodney -- even if he didn't say so it out loud when Rodney could hear.
Of course, Carson also tended to lecture a little when John got hurt, but that was because the only time he'd come back from a mission injured since they'd got together, he'd had a dislocated shoulder and lost all the skin off his right hand. Rodney tended to come back with scrapes, bruises, and almost but not quite decapitations.
But no matter how slight the injury, Carson would always react like Rodney had gone off to an alien planet and nearly got himself killed. Which, from Carson's point of view -- was probably exactly what Rodney was doing. John watched Rodney walking along, following after Teyla. He wasn't nearly as incompetent in the field as John had first thought when he'd found out he needed to take the physicist along with them. He did have excellent aim with his sidearm even if he didn't really have the instincts of a military man. He'd got a lot more confident, as well, and had almost totally given up the idea that he was a coward.
Unfortunately, it made him more likely to get himself shot, John realised. Running around on other planets feeling confident and skilled enough to run towards dangerous situations, unlike Carson who was back in Atlantis, safe from pretty much everything except overwork and worry. Worry about Rodney going off to another world and coming back with stories about nearly getting his head chopped off.
John determined that he'd just keep a closer eye on Rodney and make sure he got back without any dents at all.
~~~
It really wasn't going to work. Carson sighed and sat back, letting the broken capacitor roll onto its side.
The diagram was perfectly clear. The schematics, when he turned them every which way including inside and out, showed him in great detail how the thing should look. The one in front of him matched those schematics in every single way that he could detect. And it didn't work.
Neither he nor Murdoc could figure out why, and everything they'd tried resulted in a capacitor that to all appearances ought to be working perfectly. Only it didn't.
Perhaps Murdoc was right, and he ought to hand the thing over to one of the engineers and let *them* play with the stupid thing. They liked fiddling with tools and machines that didn't work no matter how many times you made it look like the original. Weir had told him to recruit assistants; perhaps it was time to take her up on that offer.
Rodney had given him a short list of names, culled from the long list of volunteers. Rodney had said that the names he passed along were those who were actually competent as well as people it wasn't impossible to work with. Rodney had made it clear that he expected to be there, regardless of whether Carson decided to ask for actual assistants.
Setting the capacitor aside, Carson decided to head up to talk to Weir now. He left his tools scattered on the table, knowing that no one would be in to bother them.
As he walked up to the control center, he reviewed the list of names. All of them had been among those following him around that first month. A few of them he knew personally and had no hesitation about working with them on a regular basis. Drs Zelenka and St. Arnaud in particular were engineers who Carson thought would be perfect -- possibly better choices than he for the job. Dr. Raderson was also on Rodney's list, but Carson wasn't as certain about her.
She had an excellent record, of course -- else she wouldn't have been in Atlantis in the first place. But she was among the new personnel, and Carson found himself prefering to choose among those who had already been here. Being able to do the work was one thing, but being able to deal with Atlantis was entirely another.
You think she will not adapt? Murdoc asked.
Carson started to shake his head, then stopped himself as he remembered he was not alone in the hallway. "Too early to tell," he thought. "And simple enough to wait a bit, and see." Granted, it had been nearly three months since the new personnel had arrived. But Carson still felt as though it was too soon to hand something like this over to one of the new arrivals.
Her record suggests she would be an ideal candidate, however.
"Aye, but...I just don't feel comfortable throwing her into this. Bad enough we hale people away from their home, we don't need to put things in their hands which could blow us all to kingdom come."
You know we wouldn't-- Murdoc began.
"I know, I know. I'm just saying, I'd rather not risk it when there's experienced personnel to choose from. I trust Radek and Jean-Paul; they've both seen enough to know the risks." Carson couldn't keep the grim expression off his face; he gave up trying to keep his face impassive as he walked. The others would just have to deal, as Rodney and John had learned to do.
At least he'd learnt not to talk out loud.
When he reached Dr. Weir's office, he and Murdoc had agreed on five names. The rest they'd keep in mind and review at some future point. Carson went to the door to Dr. Weir's office; a moment later it opened.
Dr. Weir looked up. "I got your email that you wanted to see me?" She looked caught between being worried and being diplomatically supportive -- waiting to find out what this was about.
"Aye, it's about those technical assistants. I think I'd like to get a few, if you don't mind."
"Not at all!" she said, beaming at him. It made him feel like he'd done exactly the right thing, and he wondered how long she'd been waiting for him to ask. Well, since she'd first made the offer, of course. She nodded him towards the chair and he sat down. "Who did you have in mind? Other than Rodney." She grinned, and Carson smiled back.
"I think there'd be a great deal of trouble if I didn't include him. Lord knows why he didn't become an engineer rather than an astrophysicist."
Maybe he just doesn't like to be left out of the fun, Murdoc whispered.
Didn't like to share his toys, was probably more accurate, Carson thought. Out loud, he said, "If they're still willing, I'd like Drs Zelenka, St. Arnaud, Masterson, O'Riley, and Grodin."
"Of course." Weir nodded again and turned to her laptop. "If they agree, I'm happy to approve any change of their duty which you and they see fit. We're not nearly as short-handed as we were, so there's no problem if any of them want to take this on full-time."
"Oh." That surprised Carson. "Yes, if they want to. I'm afraid I haven't quite figured out how this is going to work, but I wanted to let you know I needed some help."
"I understand." She paused, looking concerned. "Have you decided to go back to working in the infirmary? Is your and Dr. Collin's arragenment working out?"
"Oh, it is. It's working quite well. I never actually thanked you, did I, for letting us do it."
Dr. Weir nodded. "I think it's an excellent compromise but...why didn't you say something before I hired her?"
Carson blinked at her. "Before you hired her?"
"Before I told her I needed a new Chief Medical Officer."
Carson stared at her. "I didn't know about it until you told me."
Dr. Weir nodded. "And you had three weeks to let me know you only wanted an assistant, not a replacement."
"Three weeks?"
"Three weeks, after I sent the first message. When we went back to Earth--" She stopped, and frowned. "Carson, you *did* get my message, right?"
"What message?"
Dr. Weir sighed, and shook her head. "I think that explains a great deal. While we were on Earth, I sent messages back once a week. Major Sheppard responded to each one to let me know things were going well, that there wasn't any trouble. The first week I included a message to you, asking you about getting you some administrative help for the Medical Department. John said he'd let you know. When you didn't reply, I asked if you minded if I hired someone to be the new head of the department, because...I met Dr. Collin and she seemed perfect for it, and I thought you'd prefer to be freed up to do your own work. Your genetics research, as well as the maintainence work."
Carson shook his head, slowly. He didn't remember John saying anything....Oh. Yes, he did. He felt himself blushing furiously. "Aye, he...mentioned I had mail. Not the content, but then...I...." He cleared his throat and tried not to look at Dr. Weir, or her desk. John had been here, listening to Dr. Weir's first message when he and Rodney had come in.
Carson had ended up on his knees right where Dr. Weir was sitting, now.
Dr. Weir, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Carson coughed. "I forgot he told me."
And wasn't John going to be in a shitload of trouble, when they got back from offworld.
Weir seemed to be holding back a smile. "I had wondered why you didn't seem to care. My second message said that if you didn't have an opinion either way, I'd go ahead and hire her as CMO. When you didn't respond...."
"When I didn't respond, you thought I was agreeing." Carson sighed. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."
"Well, I'm glad to finally know what happened." She paused and blushed a bit, herself, which made Carson blush harder as he realised she must have guessed what, at least in general, had happened. She cleared her throat and continued, "I really hadn't meant to...upset you by surprising you with Dr. Collin. When Rodney told me how you'd reacted, I thought maybe I'd missed your response telling me how you felt."
"Ah. No." Carson shook his head and frantically tried to think of a way to move the conversation onto something else -- something that didn't make him think about giving John a blowjob. "So, ah, the engineers..."
Dr. Weir nodded quickly. "That's fine. Did you...want to train them to take over, so you can focus on your research? Thank you, by the way, for getting those reports to me." She grinned.
"Sorry. Paperwork really isn't my strong suit." It never had been, and he'd spent most of his adult life being asked by his supervisors if he wouldn't mind please getting it done. Carson shook his head. "It's just there's simply too much work to do -- and I think trained engineers will be better at some of it than I am. Even with Murdoc's direction."
Weir frowned. "Who's Murdoc?"
"Huh? Oh. The interface."
Her frown grew deeper. "You've named it?"
Carson shrugged. "It seemed odd to be having conversations with something that didn't have a name. It means 'protector of the sea' -- I thought it appropriate."
"I see." She nodded, very slowly. "By conversations, you mean the automated responses?"
"Yes. Does it bother you I named it?" Carson frowned.
"No, no. I just...was surprised, is all." She smiled, obviously trying to force herself to relax. "I suppose it's human nature to name things."
Carson nodded, relieved she wasn't over-reacting. He didn't fancy going through the entire brain-scan rigamarole again. "Oh, aye. It suits him. And he seems to like it."
Suddenly Weir was staring at him again, no longer looking relaxed at all.
Carson frowned.
I think you're going to be getting another brain-scan, Murdoc said.