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Chapter 2: The Numbers Just Don't Add Up
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It had been a weary two weeks since the incident that had left Atlantis with two McKay's and Rodney had been working diligently ever since.
Trying mainly to take his mind off the idea that 'he' was walking round the city, possibly doing any number of extremely embarrassing things that anyone might mistake him doing.
And he didn't doubt that his twin, as some affectionately called him, would be beyond such an idea.
At first Elizabeth had set them working together, which had been a disaster since both hims had had a way they wanted the things doing. He would have thought they'd have both agreed but that appeared not to happen. There had from then on been a quickly established competition going on between them.
The McKay/McKay relationship had not been a success despite everyones joking that each of their egos would soak up the mutual praise and adoration that was sure to follow.
'Quentin', as he'd told everyone to call him by his middle name - with much relief from Major Sheppard that Ford had no say in the matter, had been more than disgruntled that Beckett's introduction of the ATA gene had not stuck to him this time.
Rodney remembered the feeling he'd had at not having the gene, the sense of lacking, of envy for those who had it but Quentin seemed angry that as the original he had retained it whilst the machine of the Ancients that had created him had been able to tell it was artificial and had not replicated it as well.
Beckett had tried to console Quentin from what he heard, explaining that it was sheer luck, bad luck in his case, that it had failed. But the rejection this time meant until Beckett improved his method there would be no chance of Quentin having the gene.
And so Quentin had made up for it in other ways.
Ways that Rodney thought himself impossible at - making friends.
He'd never been patient or open enough to do so easily but Quentin had put his mind and possibly heart to the task, which was easier considering he hopped around the research teams helping the scientists and choosing which experiments he did. He also as a normal scientist rather than chief scientist found himself with enough leisure time to pander to the needs of others since he had no vast projects or progress reports to write, nor others reports to review.
It seemed like every time he made his way to the small cafeteria Quentin would be there, smiling broadly in a manner Rodney couldn't imagine himself doing so eagerly.
A week ago he had found himself surprised to hear Quentin recounting a tale from his college days, a crowd of civilians and military people alike wrapped around his little finger in anticipation of the morsels of knowledge and humour his clone gave out.
Quentin saw him come in, meeting his stare across the room, silent for a second to illustrate how everyone was hanging on to his every word. Just as suddenly he continued with a flourish telling the punchline of the story.
Rodney had been so wrapped up in the little exchange he'd walked right into Elizabeth with her tray.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, it tilting up between them and spilling her precious orange juice over her uniform.
She scrunched up her face unhappily and looked down at her top judging the damage.
"I'm sorry..." he started but sure she would forgive. He hadn't meant it after all.
Instead of her usually lovely reassuring smile she looked at him like she neither knew nor cared for him. At least he mused she didn't seem too bothered by her damp top as she carried on, vaguely pointing to where she walked to "I'll just be over there".
He looked down shyly and went to get some food, disturbed how keen she had been to get to Quentin.
He picked out his rations and loaded up his plate, intending to join her, but heading towards them he saw Quentin reaching over with a napkin and pulling up her shirt to dab at the stain very deliberately.
Elizabeth smiled up at Quentin, looking touched by the gesture.
He felt his heart sink as she said thank you. Particularly that she was the only one who still called Quentin Rodney as if she didn't know the difference.
He suddenly hadn't much appetite, retiring very quickly to his lab, pouring himself over his work.
###
Aiden Ford made his way over to his superior, who sat twiddling his food on his fork deep in thought.
"Hey, sir"
John looked up, boyish eyes swiveling to meet his friends cheerful face.
"Hi Ford. Sit" he said, the last word spoken as a friendly suggestion.
So he sat, waiting for John to say something.
When he didn't he decided to broach a conversation that had been niggling him for the last week.
"Have you notice Dr. McKay been off his food lately?"
"McKay, no. I just had lunch with him, he ate it like a horse. Why?"
"No, not that Dr. McKay." pressed Aiden, pronouncing who he meant specially "Rodney."
"Oh!" was all Sheppard said in return.
"So?" he prompted.
"I don't know haven't really seen much of him, but Quentin's around a lot, practically lives in here and the common room."
Ford sighed seeing his friend was missing the point. Did no one round here think about Rodney? Maybe that was the problem.
"Don't you think Quentin is a little strange sir?"
"How'd you mean?" Sheppard asked sounding curious.
"Well he doesn't really act like McKay does, I mean like Rodney does."
"Hadn't noticed myself." Sheppard replied nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair.
"But do you ever remember the old McKay telling you college stories and making physics sound interesting?"
"No but that doesn't mean he couldn't."
Aiden could see the point but still didn't agree.
And so it was Aiden's turn to swizzle his food around on his plate, there just didn't seem to be a way to communicate the strangeness to his friend. Puzzling over it he recalled a conversation he'd had yesterday which gave him an inkling.
He began confidently, sure that it would make John realise something was wrong.
"What about the fact that Dr. Zelenka doesn't get on with Quentin and after only a couple of weeks Quentin is chummy with Kavanaugh of all people.
Sheppard just shrugged it off
"Good for them."
Ford sighed heavily and hoped he could find someone who wasn't as blind as the rest of the people he'd tried to discuss this with.
And he hoped he'd figure it out soon he added to himself seeing the scruffy figure that he knew was Rodney walk in, pick up an apple only, bouncing it in his hand as he glanced around, then suddenly left on his own.
Ford really couldn't imagine anything much more disturbing than McKay put off food that had no lemon in it. Although perhaps that would be the happy smiling easy going Quentin; Ford didn't trust him for some reason and he wanted to know why.
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