Logic of Love von Purpleyin

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Spoilers: For first 12 episodes of Season 1, definitely for "The Eye".

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I sat in my lab rifling through an assortment of Ancient objects brought back from yet another expedition exploring Atlantis. So far the only thing we discovered was that they aren't harmful to touch. When I said 'we' , I meant, of course 'I'. With Kavanagh leaving the risky business up to me, whimpering off to his team like the coward he is, not even caring what could happen to someone who isn't him.

Since then I hadn't made a single bit of progress, my thoughts invariably wandering back to one thing.

The impossibility of it all. I couldn't believe it. We were stuck in the Pegasus galaxy doomed most likely to die by lifesucking vampires and all I could think about today was her.

And I couldn't believe I like her. It's irrational, silly in a teenage crush way.But if it had been just hormones it would have been easier. I think I'm in love with her. Which isn't good. I find myself with so many feelings I rarely have. Feeling jealous when another man comes anywhere near close to her. Wanting to protect her from danger, which is the silliest thing, of course, because I'm not military, I don't have a hope of being able to do that, missing the point that she looks over me, over all of us.

I am in love with my boss. My friend. My closest friend.

She trusts me and I don't want to break that trust, because admitting anything could fracture our friendship, the only relationship I can see myself having with her. And I want to be near her, it allows for that to continue, so it seems sensible to stay quiet, to deny it all, settle for just being friends.

But being just friends is a torture, knowing she will go back to her someone at home or even find someone else out here, it would always be someone who isn't me. With me in the background, her steady rock of a friend sitting tight through it all.

And it makes no sense, as I had told Sam Carter rather rudely before, I had pretty much always gone for dumb blondes. Not cute brunette diplomats who were my boss, and there I am again. I shouldn't think things like that, lest I say them out loud in my forgetfulness.

I know it's bad. I'm not quite as obnoxious around her, not my usual snarky self as John usually describes me. She makes me feel calm, safe. It induces worry if anything should happen to her and an emptiness at the loss of her presence. Worst of all, I guess, is my desperate need to be the best version of myself for her.

Instead of the ploy I'd often tried that had the effect of pushing women away so I could never hear their rejection, no lewd lustful comments this time and not just because she was our leader. I'd never gone about it this way before but maybe thats the thing, I'm not going about it, am I? She likes me for who I am, which is more or less a first for me with women, she just doesn't like me in the way I wish she did.

So I wish I was myself self again, barely caring about others, as if I don't need anyone. Except I know I do. Rodney McKay for once has real friends. It was unexpected, to say the least, that I'd find some of the best people I've met when in another galaxy. I know I've changed and a lot of that is her fault. I opened up to her as we became friends in Antarctica and it's too late to change that. And my friends, they put up with me, as does she. After all I haven't changed that much.

I'd die for her; almost had. Stepped right in front of Kolya's gun, putting myself between her and it. I didn't even think about my own life for a few seconds, a few especially crucial seconds - then I panicked wondering what I'd done. I was amazed he didn't shoot me, to be honest. I hadn't been ready to die, but somehow I'd been ready to die for her. But I still have to live with it. Live knowing I am hopelessly in love with her. An unrequited love doomed forever to be friendship, something I can only just bear, and yet praise. I want more but at the same time I can't lose what I have. That's the only risk I won't take. And what probability factor did I use in deciding that, you ask? None. Because any risk of losing her is too much. For once my heart rules over my head, which, I guess, is why not much of this (my behaviour, my choice) is logical. Unless you'd coin it as the 'logic of love' but I don't think saying that befits me.

And I go back to my misery with all the sarcastic enthusiasm I can muster.
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