“…the diagnostics I ran show that there has actually been a decrease in Atlantis’ power expenditures,” Rodney was saying, urgently. Although this was how he normally spoke, his relatively disheveled state showed just how concerned he’d been. The man would go without sleep, but in some respects he was as fastidious as a cat, rarely appearing unless clean-shaven. He’d not shaved that morning, she noticed as he showed her the results of his findings on his handheld device. The screen was so small they had to hold their heads close together in order to make out any of the text at all.

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. She pressed up against his shoulder in order to view the screen and it struck her, not for the first time, just how warm he was. She could feel the muscles of his arm tense and relax as he punched buttons on the device and it was having a very detrimental effect on her ability to concentrate. It led her to wonder how those same muscles would feel under her hand if he were hauling machinery, or equipment, or just really big books… He had a kind of casual, comfortable strength, and she suddenly wanted to wrap herself inside it.

That probably wouldn’t go over well, Elizabeth thought. So she settled for pressing her own arm a little more firmly against his and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t subtly copping a feel.

Rodney cleared his throat, and Elizabeth’s attention snapped back to his face. Had he noticed…?

It seemed he had not. He continued explaining what he’d discovered. “And then I checked the data logs and compared them against this new data…”

Hmm, she thought, watching him intently. She loved the lighting in her office. It shone from the exactly perfect angle at the exactly perfect intensity to make Rodney’s eyes appear a perfect crystal clear blue. The clearness in his eyes was made that much more attractive by the animation his enthusiasm brought to his face.

It was moments like this that Elizabeth knew he was brilliant, and not just in terms of IQ. It was in the way he bounced on the balls of his feet, in the hand gestures that painted joyous pictures in the air, in the glee evident on every feature. It was in these moments that Rodney McKay just shone.

He was looking at her expectantly. “Hmm,” she repeated, hoping that was the correct non-committal answer. She really needed to focus on what he was saying, before she found herself agreeing to something like making AR-3 his test subjects for a day, or something.

It was not the correct answer, apparently. That, or he’d picked up on the wandering attention of his audience, because Rodney shot her a slightly confused, slightly concerned look. But she smiled at him, and he continued – a little slower, though, watching her gingerly as if she were a delicate piece of technology he hadn’t quite figured out how to work, yet.

“Um…The only explanation I can come up with for this is that lately we’ve established a kind of rhythm that…that is easier on the system than…than…a series of abrupt surges and…and stops…”

Elizabeth watched in fascination as the expression on his face transformed itself from chipper excitement to intense concentration – the expression he used while examining a particularly tricky problem or mysterious alien device. But there was a massive marshalling of forces taking place behind those deep eyes, and it wasn’t an alien artifact his attention was focused on. It was her.

She had about half a second to come to terms with the peculiar thrill of being the object of one hundred percent of Rodney McKay’s attention. Because half a second later, he took her face in both his hands, and kissed her with the fervor of a man at the very end of his rope. Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his hands in her hair and the roughness of stubble under her lips.

Rodney nipped lightly at her lower lip and she gave in, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him flush against her. He kissed her the same way he did everything – intently and enthusiastically. As his tongue swept her mouth with a careful attention for detail so typical of him, Elizabeth felt her knees go weak. Why, she thought, feeling dazed, hadn’t they done this before?

He tasted like coffee and the remains of mint-flavored toothpaste, and he smelled like soap and the crackling clean she’d always associated with his laboratory. It was almost exactly how she’d imagined. Though she’d never imagined the look in his eyes as they paused for breath, and he leaned his forehead against hers. Those eyes held a look of revelation and relief, like he’d just figured out a way to get home after decades of searching.

Elizabeth understood completely. Since arriving at Atlantis, she’d occasionally felt like she would never be smart enough, diplomatic enough, imposing enough, to do the job she’d been sent to do. But the second Rodney had looked at her like that, she knew that she was just Elizabeth to him – and that was better than good enough.

She smiled – a real smile, broad and beaming, the kind she rarely bestowed on anyone – and ran a hand down the side of his unshaven face. “Hi,” she said.

Rodney grinned back at her. “Hi.”

End