FIC: "Elective Sub-routines" Rodney McKay + ??? G

[helenkacan]

I wrote this for the first-round challenge over at stargate_las and, surprise, surprise (yay), I was in a four-way tie for first-place in the SGA category. SG-1 and SGU (with fewer entries) had one winner each.

I don't often write G-rated fic but, when I do, I really have a good time. And now I'm off to write my second fic. There are so many authors for SGA who skipped the first challenge, so I feel this will be a very long battle.

Show/Movie: Stargate Atlantis (SGA)
Story Title: Elective Sub-routines
Character/Relationships: Rodney McKay + one (surprise) character / Gen
Rating: G
Warnings: None

Rodney McKay had established early on in his life – through hypotheses, trials and results – that discipline and routines were crucial components in the never-ending search for excellence.

It was, therefore, no surprise to find him here, trying to impart the validity of his life's purpose to his newest recruit who was staring at him in rapt, wide-eyed wonder. Not that it was a new experience for Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD. But flattering, nonetheless.

"No, really, really, you can't simply fritter through your time here following what others have determined should be your routines. You'll need to decide what projects you want to tackle each year and pursue them. You'll need to demonstrate steady progress and achievement. Then, you'll have to be ruthless in securing consistent lab time. How else do you think I got to be where I am today?"

Rodney proudly waved his expressive hands in the air for emphasis. "But don't worry, you have me here to guide you. You couldn't have asked for a better mentor, and not only because I'm a genius. You'll do well to observe me the most. Just don't let any of the others distract you because too many of them are – and you'll hear me say this more than once – morons."

Rodney rubbed his jaw, deep in thought as he considered the ever-growing list of potential distractions. "Of course, I'll try to spare as much time as I can, but you know the place can't get along without my brilliance and I'm a very bus--." Rodney halted, mid-word, when he heard an enormous yawn aimed in his general vicinity.

He glanced at his bed and found that Torren John's eyelids were drooping, the toddler unable to stifle his ever-increasing yawns.

"Oh. Right. I nearly forgot that you're still at the stage where nap-time is an integral part of your daily routine. Your mother is a very smart lady, though I don't understand why she was so persistent in pointing out to me that I shouldn't spend so much time talking without observing whether you'd need a nap or a bottle or ... well, you know, the other thing."

Rodney bustled over to the bed, gently rearranging TJ on his back in the centre of a plush, miniature fort constructed from towels and blankets. TJ gurgled as his arms and legs flailed about, though his movements were floppy and lethargic. Rodney found it all surprisingly hypnotic. His own eyes began to slide shut in response, though he tried to shake off the unexpected drowsiness.

Perhaps it wouldn't be the end of the world (galaxy ... solar system ... whatever) if he were to join TJ in this totally meaningless bow to many traditional child-rearing customs. Just this once, he'd change his routine ... if only to keep TJ company.

As he slid onto the bed, dimming the lights with a thought and mindful not to jostle the dozing child, Rodney whispered, "Just wait. When you're a little older, I'll eventually get your mother to understand and accept my brilliant deductive reasoning. And, if there's anything like a Grade 6 Science Fair in Pegasus, you'll be sure to be awarded the first prize."

He reached out, wanting to feel the connection he'd had with this child since its birth ... because, well, he couldn't have gotten closer unless he'd been the one actually giving birth which, despite all of the galaxy's freakiness, was not going to happen, at least not to him. He hoped.

As his fingers caressed the boy's soft hair, he thought of the changes to his own predictable routines, grimacing at certain unwelcome memories, and how they had led him through the Stargate into a reality where he was not only the smartest man, in two galaxies now (even if "Mom" – whether it was Hammond or O'Neill or Landry – liked Sam best), but also a trusted friend who could and would love and protect this child.

Though, he mused, he wouldn't object too strenuously if Teyla and Kanaan were to offer to officially acknowledge his contribution to TJ's upbringing as "Uncle" Rodney. It would be strangely comforting to hear those words, well ... whenever TJ finally emerged from the babbling stage.

Rodney played with the words, the sounds slurring on his tongue. And then he slept, a tiny smile gracing his lips.