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"By Any Other Name"
by Grey Lupous
Summary: What’s in a name? John’s starting
to ask himself that very question. (Tag to Adrift and
Lifeline)
Spoilers: Numerous, all the way up to “Lifeline”.
Beta: The wonderful Gayle, who puts up with my
insecurities and ending sentences with prepositions. She
deserves a cookie... or a whole plate of cookies.
Feedback: Any, especially since I managed to stay serious for several sentences in a row. Author's Notes: This is a departure from my usual style of writing. It’s basically an excuse for me to put my fannish observations on the evolution of character relationships via naming conventions into a story… or in other words, meta wrapped in a ficcy package. Originally written right after Reunion, but revised a little to hint at the end of "Miller's Crossing". Only a hint though, I don’t think anyone will get it but me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Words have meaning and names have power." – Author
Unknown
John Sheppard had never really given much thought to
names. He knew they had significance, a value beyond
just a pretty sound. His first name had various
meanings depending on where you looked. Most of them
had to do with God being either gracious or
merciful. He liked the one that said "the most
successful of all people". It didn't describe him at
all, but it was a nice thought. His last name was
more straight forward: a shepherd, a man who looked
over his flock, protecting them from whatever threat
that reared its head. Putting them together made him
the herder of the most successful of all people.
Apparently from birth he was destined to be Rodney
McKay's babysitter.
Which is what he was doing right now.
He glanced back in McKay's direction to see that the
scientist was still deeply engrossed in the machine
he was studying. The newly promoted Colonel Carter
had left a few days before, and the IOA was
currently reviewing candidates to fill Elizabeth's
very big, intimidating shoes. They were temporarily
in charge of Atlantis, meaning neither of them were
really in a position to be leaving on missions. So
when Rodney decided he wanted to investigate one of
the outlying towers where the micro-asteroids had
penetrated the Ancient architecture, John had jumped
at the chance to escape the duties of lead
administrator for just a little bit.
Morale in the city was at an all-time low, as
everyone was feeling the loss of Elizabeth on some
level. John in particular was feeling that loss as
the heavy weight of command fell almost completely
on his shoulders. There also might have been the
expression on Elizabeth's face, forever burned into
his mind, as they were forced to leave her behind on
the Asuran home world.
Elizabeth had always called him John, she only used
his rank or last name when addressing him formally.
She knew the first name of each expedition member:
the original contingent as well as the new ones who
came after the Daedelus rescued them from being
stranded that first year. She liked being able to
relate to everyone. At first John had just thought
it was the politician in her, trying to make people
like her by remembering their names. After he got to
know her better, he realized that was who she was,
and that she
wanted to know each of them personally as
well as professionally.
McKay cursed loudly, and Sheppard looked up from
where he was fingering a small, pinky-sized hole in
the wall to see the scientist sucking on his index
finger and glaring at the console he had been
working on.
"Problems?" John asked lightly.
The glare that had been reserved for misbehaving
equipment was redirected to him briefly. "No,
I shock myself for fun."
"Hey, what you do on your free time is your own
business."
Rodney's nostrils flared as he expelled a frustrated
breath, eyes narrowing. "Don't you have paperwork to
fill out?"
"Don't you?" John shot back, bobbing his eyebrows in
amusement as McKay's face pinched in annoyance. In
Elizabeth’s absence, Rodney had taken on extra
duties as well. "I mean, isn't there some sort of
debate you need to be moderating instead of looking
at this console?"
"Stuff it!" Rodney spat, shaking his hand as he
knelt next to the console again. "I don't need
babysitting."
"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to escape too," John
muttered, marveling at the damage inflicted on the
strong walls by the sheer force and momentum of such
a tiny object. He shuddered to think what one of
those large meteors might have done. He'd seen what
one of the small ones had done to Zelenka up close,
and was damn lucky they hadn't lost the Czech to
that ill-fated repair trip.
Rodney glanced up at him briefly at that, before
dropping his eyes to his work again. "We should
probably think about resuming gate activity soon."
"Teyla is anxious to re-establish contact with the
new Athosian settlement and check in with them." His
hand brushed over the door that led out to the
balcony. The kaleidoscope of holes resembled
constellations, the sun streaming from the outside
lighting up the perforated door like stars. Upon
contact with his hand the door swished open, letting
in the soft breeze wafting up from the ocean.
Behind him, Rodney didn't look up, but he could hear
the scientist pause in his work. "What are you
doing?"
"Nothing."
"If you're bored, why don't you go do something more
useful than bugging me?"
John rolled his eyes. "I already admitted that I'm
hiding. Why would I leave sanctuary?"
"So I can concentrate?"
"Believe it or not, your level of concentration
isn't my chief concern, now or ever."
"Why don't you go bug Teyla? I'm sure she'd take
great pleasure in beating you down with those sticks
of hers, as well as distract any unwanted visitors
with a similar offer."
Teyla would too. He'd caught her eyeing him
critically the past few days, as if she wanted to
say something about looking after himself, but
couldn't quite figure out how to phrase it without
sounding like Elizabeth or Carson. Two people who he
was trying very hard at this moment not to think
about, and failing miserably.
She had always been Teyla to him. Never Miss Emmagen.
It was first, a mouthful, and secondly, it didn't
suit her as much as her first name did. The first
year, she referred to everyone by their formal title
and name. It was something he had never really
questioned. The first time he remembered her calling
him by his first name was after Ronon had joined the
team, when their jumper had crashed trying to leave
Olessia. She might have transitioned to it before
then, but that was the moment that stood out in his
mind the most.
"But the gym all the way over there." John
continued to slowly circle the room, eyeing the
patterns left in the tower as if he were an
astronomer charting the stars. "Just pretend like
I'm not here."
"I've been
trying. Oh, I've been trying!" Rodney
huffed an annoyed sigh. "Someone,
it seems, just wants to chat."
"It's my hiding place too. I can be as loud as I
want."
He had circled around enough to where he could see
Rodney's face, and watched as the other man's eyes
closed in an expression clearly trying to gather his
tattered shreds of patience. "I'm sure Ronon
then would take pity on you, and you two could hide
in the catwalks, running around merrily as you shoot
at each other and smash beer cans on your
foreheads."
"That was once."
Ronon was like Ford, in the sense that it was never
first names from them. It was a soldier thing, a
combination of rank restrictions and respect. There
was the rare moment when first names slipped, like
trying to coax a half-baked Lieutenant out of the
woods, or when certain Satedans were trying to get a
rise out of his Terran and Athosian friends. It was
always "Major" and "sir" with Ford, and exclusively
Sheppard with Ronon.
Without thinking about it he began to whistle a
tuneless melody.
He couldn't refer to Ronon by his last name though,
because every time someone said Dex his mind
conjured up the image of the friend he had lost in
Afghanistan. So it was Ronon, and that never seemed
to bother the Satedan. On that last thought, his
whistling ended on a distressed note.
Silence filled the room, and John cautiously glanced
at Rodney. The scientist's shoulders were hunched
up, and from his angle John could see the
physicist's eye twitching. He cleared his throat,
looking away somewhat sheepishly. "Whistle while you
work?"
A strangled cry of frustration escaped the
scientist, and he reared the spanner back, as if he
were seriously considering chunking it at Sheppard
in an attempt to silence the pilot.
John raised his arms in surrender. "Quiet?"
"Please!"
The room lapsed into blessed silence, and Rodney
busied himself with resuming his work without being
electrocuted. There was another reason that John
didn't want to go and bug his other teammates, as
there was something he had to find out. So he made
his stealthy approach, being careful to avoid debris
as he quietly stepped up behind McKay.
"Whatcha doin'?"
This time the spanner did leave the scientist's hand
and collided with the wall with a loud thunk,
while the other hand flew to Rodney's breast. He
turned wild eyes to Sheppard, before summarily
shoving him away.
"Don't do that, you big oaf! What the hell?
Are you trying to kill me?"
"Just curious." John shrugged, and reached out to
touch the console. Before he could get close his
hand was slapped away like a mother correcting an
errant child.
"No! Bad!"
He quirked a half-smile at Rodney. "C'mon, let me
help. I'm bored."
"Then go do your job!"
"This is much more fun."
"You won't even see it coming! One day you'll walk
into a transporter, and you just won't come out!"
"Was that a threat?"
"It's a freaking promise if you don't shut up
and stop bugging me!"
"C'mon, Rodney—"
"You're not used to hearing the word 'no', are you?
Here, let me find a dictionary to show you how to
spell it and clearly define it so your miniscule
brain can get it—"
"An act or instance of refusing or denying by the
use of the word no."
Rodney blinked. "Did you—did you memorize Webster's
definition of the word 'no'?"
It was so hard to keep a straight face doing this,
but he continued. "Used as a function word to
emphasize a following negative or to introduce a
more emphatic, explicit, or comprehensive
statement."
"Wait—"
"Used with a following adjective to imply a meaning
expressed by the opposite positive statement."
"How many—?"
"Thirteen."
"How much free time do you have on your hands to go
around memorizing all of the definitions to the word
no?" Rodney cried.
"I figured it would come in handy."
"That's just sad."
"How many definitions do you know?"
"I—" Rodney sputtered. "I have better things to do
with my time! Like fixing this stupid console!"
"Meaning you give up."
"Are—are you challenging me to a spelling bee?"
Rodney looked very confused.
"Are we in the fourth grade?"
"According to popular opinion, yes."
"Define strange. Go!"
"What? Wait, that's not fair—"
"Not before known, heard, or seen."
"I wasn't ready!"
"Too bad. I'm already up one, hurry, catch up."
"I'm not—"
"Discouraging familiarities; not unlike your
preferred method of social interaction."
"That's just low!"
John grinned. "Also, a fundamental quark that has an
electric charge of − and a measured energy of
approximately 150 MeV."
Rodney just stared at him, unable to come up with
words in response, which might have been an actual
first for him. Instead, he just looked at his friend
with a mixture of respect, disdain, and a good dose
of annoyance.
Finally he seemed to find his voice. "I'm going back
to work now. Play your Chinese Word Mind Games with
someone else, Colonel."
Rodney turned away, and missed seeing Sheppard's
grin falter. He'd memorized the definitions the
other day, bored out of his skull and desperately
trying to find a way to keep from going insane.
Unfortunately, the dictionary at Elizabeth's desk
had been the only thing he'd been willing to touch.
Quietly, he rose to his feet again, returning to the
wall to study the damage.
The scientist had started out as the
annoying-pain-in-his-ass before they had even
arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy the first time, and
became "McKay" at some point after leaving the huge
chunk of ice where they had all been stationed. He
had remained simply "McKay" after coming to Atlantis
and joining Sheppard's team. John had surprised
himself by introducing him as "Rodney" to the kids
on M7G-677. He had been on a first name basis
between Elizabeth and Teyla, but then again, he
could spend five minutes with them without
conversation disintegrating into an Abbot and
Costello routine.
"I'm picking up a strange reading from right over
there."
"Define strange."
"You're not pouting, are you?" Came the muffled
question.
John glanced back to see that the top-half of the
scientist's body had disappeared back under the
console. He pursed his lips, as his mind drifted
back to the conversation over three years ago.
"You don't know what 'strange' means?"
"I know what 'strange' means, Rodney."
"Weird, freakish, odd..."
Strange was the fact that he could remember the
exact point where he had started thinking of the man
in front of him by his first name. It was inane, it
was stupid, and it didn't mean anything, because at
the end of the day it was still just a name.
"Colonel?"
"Sorry, Rodney, just thinking."
Because it had crept out only when he had been
driven to exasperation by the man. Insulting his
intelligence, making him run to the furthest end of
the city to fix a grounding station, arguing with
him endlessly over the radio on his inability to
kill the Super Wraith, rambling off unnecessary
advice on out flying nuclear explosions—up to where
the scientist's attitude towards Chaya had made him
revert back to calling him just McKay for the
remainder of that debacle. Hell, even after Doranda,
he never stopped being 'Rodney'.
"Thinking? That'll be the day." Rodney snorted,
before yelping again after a sizzle of electricity.
"Son of a—"
Sheppard tuned out the cursing since the loud
complaining meant that the shock hadn't been
anywhere close to lethal. One hand started tracing
the holes in the wall again, idly wondering if they
resembled any real constellations. It was a
pointless thought, just like this whole name
nonsense.
It wasn't like he had been disturbed by the
revelation that at some point he had realized that
he had liked the acerbic scientist, or that he had
thought of him as a friend. All of his teammates
were his friends, they had to be; they had to trust
each other in order to survive in this galaxy. It
was just that it had come so naturally for him—
"Hello! Dying here!"
Sheppard looked up to see Rodney rubbing his hand
furiously. "You're fine."
"Oh? Did you read an entire medical text on
electrical shock after the dictionary?"
"You're complaining aren't you?"
"I always complain!"
"My point exactly."
Rodney's face scrunched up. "Fine! But if I start to
have a seizure, you better not still be fondling the
walls. Do I need to give you two some privacy?"
"Me and the wall will pause in our making out long
enough to call someone."
"My gratitude knows no bounds," Rodney muttered,
dropping his eyes back to his hands. After a moment
he glanced back up at Sheppard suspiciously. "You're
quiet."
He pretended like he was still extraordinarily
interested in the walls. "I told you, I'm thinking."
"And you couldn't shut up a minute ago!"
"I'm taking your advice."
Rodney's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you're dying
aren't you!"
He frowned, forced to finally turn and face the
subject of his scrutiny. Fortunately the outburst
gave him the perfect reason to stare at him like he
had grown a second head. "I'm fine, Rodney."
"What's wrong with you today?"
Over the radio it was Sheppard, since there were
multiple military men on Atlantis, and occasionally
on off-world missions. Face-to-face, it was always
rank, without fail. It never had really
occurred to him that Rodney never called him by his
first name until Teyla had started. Even then, it
was a passing thought, something he hardly noticed.
For a while there the man could hardly remember
whether John was a major or lieutenant colonel, and
it had taken him eight months to even remember how
to pronounce Zelenka's last name.
Then a small niggling voice had started to notice
that Rodney had moved to calling almost everyone by
their first names: Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon, Radek,
Chuck the Gate Technician, Peter, Brendan,
Carson—freaking Wraith had first names, Genii
leaders did, virtual strangers on other planets, Sam
Carter had a first name, whales did—
—but he didn't. Not to Rodney McKay at least.
All of his friends called him by his first name at
some point. Elizabeth did it all the time, Teyla now
too. Ronon had done it once jokingly. Even Carson,
he felt a twinge of pain at thinking of the Scot and
tried to force it down, had used it on occasion.
"Colonel?" Rodney was frowning and staring at him in
concern.
He forced a grin on his face, hoping it would
placate the sudden attention on him. This only
caused the frown to deepen.
He had once asked Rodney about it, when he was
starting to go batty with the—was it jealousy?—fact
that he referred to all of his other friends and
perfect strangers by first names, but one John
Sheppard was forever relegated to his rank. It had
been asked in a far more round-a-bout way, because
he wasn't about to let McKay know that it bothered
him.
Rodney had snorted, and announced that he barely
remembered anyone's name, much less anyone in the
military. He had started to say something about
respect, but then the ground next to them had
exploded. From that point it had been a lot of
running, some hysterical screaming from Rodney, and
not a lot of time for talking. He hadn't brought it
up again after that because that would first make
the scientist suspicious. Secondly, he never wanted
to wonder if the conversation forced the
change in the dynamic. So he shoved it to the back
of his mind and forgot about it.
At least he had, until a few minutes ago. He had
been staring at the holes in the walls, mind
unwillingly replaying his and Zelenka's repair trip.
The "leap", the rush repair job, and that
conversation, the one he hadn't really been
listening to.
"You want to WHAT?"
"Reactivate Weir's nanites."
"That is a terrible, terrible idea."
Fingers snapped in front of his face, bringing him
back to the present. Two blue eyes stared at him,
not bothering to mask their worry. "Earth to
Sheppard."
A more natural grin settled on his features. "We're
on Atlantis. Er, New Atlantis—where the hell are we
again?"
He saw tension drain out of the other man's
shoulders, but the concerned eyes didn't waver from
him. "Somewhere new."
"I've reprogrammed them."
"No!"
"John, we are losing her here."
He nodded. "Definitely new."
Rodney eyed him for a moment longer, before slinking
back over to his console. "If you and the wall are
done consummating your relationship, maybe you can
hold a light for me so I'll stop shocking
myself."
"You could wear gloves," he said lightly, but
grabbed a flashlight and pointed its beam under the
console.
"Coming from the man who puts his fingers in light
sockets every morning?"
"Is that a hair crack?"
"Yeah," Rodney muttered as he carefully started to
taking out cracked pieces of crystals. "Need work?"
"A little."
"Hmph."
It had taken four years for Rodney to call John
Sheppard by his first name. Unconsciously his jaw
clenched as he held the light steady. Just the one
time, for one moment, Rodney had let all of his
defenses around Sheppard slip, and John hadn't even
noticed.
He spied the faulty wiring and seized the
scientist's hand before he shocked himself again.
Without a word, John shined the light on the spot,
illuminating the problem. Rodney rolled his eyes and
yanked his hand away. However he was careful to
avoid the area as he ventured back in.
Next time—if there was a next time—John promised
himself that he would hear it. And somehow let
Rodney know that he noticed.
End
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