Left To Fend/The Body Holographic by leahwoof (PG-13)

[mf_luder_xf]

Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: John/Rodney, Rodney/OFC, others hinted at mainly with OCs
Length: ~72,200 between the two stories
Author on LJ: springwoof and Leah.
Author Website: Leahwoof Stories and springwoof's AO3

This is technically two stories. But it is better to think of it as a prequel and the full story. Left to Fend was written by springwoof while The Body Holographic was written by both springwoof and Leah (leahwoof is the journal of the stories they've written together). If you read the notes of The Body Holographic the authors have provided more information on the genesis of the story.

This 'verse is one of my favorites. It has all the components of my favorite "what could have been" type fics where Atlantis loses contact with Earth, where Atlantis secedes, and Weir isn't assimilated byleft to the replicators. There's mystery as we're first presented with an Atlantis that is very different from the (S2) Atlantis we knew, and the whole rest slowly unravels that mystery and explains the relationships. The OCs and new cultures are complex and interesting. It's terribly romantic and sad, but not saccharine. It's beautifully written, engaging, and painful but in that oh-so-good way. The authors manage to weave a fantastic story together that I simply want to keep reading about it forever. And the ending! My heart! Such love, for this story, honestly.


The little white cottage in the modest seaside suburb of Emmaganville on the Mainland wasn't a place anyone would have envisioned for Rodney McKay's retirement. In fact--nobody had dared to actually voice it at the retirement party, but it was in everyone's eyes--the concept of McKay retiring obviously boggled the mind. At the time, McKay had mentally snorted and rolled his remaining eye. It didn't boggle his mind. And his mind, as always, was the one that counted.

McKay felt a shadow of a grin curl his lip at that thought as he carefully tucked a seedling into the soil of the planter box. The tiny plant was from a strain of seed that Katie Brown (Ancestors rest her soul) had developed thirty years ago. She'd named the plant after him. Pegasus grandiflora mckay would develop into a hardy, compact plant with thin, sparse leaves, but loud, showy flowers, but the plant's real gift was its fruit. The flavor was utterly indescribable in Earth terms, but utterly delicious. The plant's nutrition value was high, and its productivity constant and abundant throughout its growing cycle. Katie had given him both a real tribute and a sarcastic comment on his shortcomings, all in one package. The kicker was that McKay loved the fruit, thought the flowers looked and smelled good, and had faithfully grown at least one plant every year since Katie had proudly presented him with the first seeds. He'd gotten a late start with the planting this year, but there was still time for a plentiful crop before winter.

McKay carefully wiped the dirt off his hands with the rag from his pocket before measuring the plant nutrient compound and pouring it into his watering can. He gave the seedlings a good soak. The wind from the ocean gusted in, stirring the remaining few wisps of his hair and feeling pleasant in the late spring heat. McKay shaded his eye and peered at the cloudless sky and the sparkle of sunlight off the water. He'd have to apply more sunscreen in a little while. With a grunt, he lifted the planter and carried it to its box on the deck railing, where he would eventually be able to see the flowers from any window at the back of the house, all summer and fall, and even into the winter--at least until the first really big storm.

Pleased with his efforts, he gathered up his tools and managed to get the back door open with his elbow. Once inside the house, he finally heard the loud knocking at his front door. It sounded like whoever it was had been knocking for a while. McKay's hearing was not what it once was--too much exposure to too many explosions and too much gunfire without any kind of hearing protection over too many years. The bad hearing didn't much bother him on a day-to-day basis. He played his music too loud, but his neighbors lived far enough away that it didn't bother them. Or, at least, they never complained to him about it.

The notion that he might be intimidating his neighbors without even trying put a smile on his face as he opened the front door.

"Jinto!" he exclaimed. Jinto wasn't a usual visitor. His duties in Atlantis made him a very busy man.

Jinto smiled broadly. "I knew you were home, Doctor Rodney! Your neighbor, Aisha, said to just knock louder." He indicated the house next door with the tilt of his head, and McKay peered around Jinto's shoulder. Indeed, there was Aisha, pulling her yellow shawl around her shoulders in the wind and waving nervously before ducking back into her own house. McKay snorted. Yes, he was becoming a veritable cliché, nosy neighbors and all.

He placed his hands on Jinto's shoulders and brought them forehead-to-forehead in the traditional Athosian greeting. "What brings you to see me, Jinto?"

"May I enter? The wind--"

"Oh, yes, sorry. Come in, come in! Is this an urgent matter, or do you have time for something to eat? Something to drink? Tea?" McKay urged Jinto into the main room of the house, which was a combination of living room, dining room, and kitchen. The cottage had only three rooms; he didn't need much, just the main room, his bedroom, and the guestroom for when his son, Johnny, or other friends from the city came to visit. McKay bustled to move his notes off the table--the book he privately suspected he'd never really get around to finishing.

"Tea would be lovely, Doctor Rodney." Jinto settled gracefully at the table, eyes bright, expression pleased.

No emergency at Atlantis requiring McKay's expertise then. McKay squashed an unwanted combination of disappointment, irritation and relief as he turned and fussed with the tea things.

The tray he finally carried to the table contained not just the tea and condiments, but a plate of dainty lavender-colored Athosian fruit pastries as well. Jinto made a sound of delight and swooped, snatching one up before McKay even had the tray properly settled on the table. McKay smiled, remembering that exact behavior with this particular kind of pastry when Jinto had been a young boy. It was strange to think that Jinto was a grandfather now, several times over.

"Ummm. Delicious, Doctor Rodney! The sneekes are perfect!" Jinto licked his lips and stirred sweetener into his tea as he eyed the stack of pastries again. "Did you make them?" he asked, his attention never wavering from the sneekes.

McKay laughed. "Of course not! Aisha makes a batch every few days and brings some by so that she can check in on me, as Tal Weir has undoubtedly asked her to. At least she's good enough to bring food when she's spying." He waved at the plate. "Please, Jinto, take as many as you like. It's nice to see you enjoy them."

McKay took a sneeke himself to dunk languidly in his tea as he watched Jinto pop two of the small pastries in his mouth, one after the other, and chew with gusto. He took a small, careful bite of his own pastry. He enjoyed the textures of food well enough, but his sense of smell and taste were not what they once were, and he never had much of an appetite these days.

He peered at the sneeke in his hand and smiled in remembrance. "Teyla introduced me to these. She used to like them almost as much as you do, but she could never bake her own. They always came out terrible--burnt, or hard as stones, or too salty, or something."

"Yes, I remember," Jinto agreed. He picked up another sneeke and took a small bite out of it this time, followed by a sip of tea. "My father was a far better baker. He'd save some of our sneekes for Teyla. Old Charin would always bake her some for the midwinter festival." Jinto and McKay shared a smile--still tinged with sadness after all these years, but a smile nonetheless--over memories of Teyla and her delight in these little pastries.

"So, Jinto, what brings you to see me? Not that I don't enjoy your company, but you are a busy man. The city can't spare you to be making social calls on useless old men like me."

A slow shake of the head and a wry eyebrow conveyed all Jinto had to say about the time back when such a comment would have never passed McKay's lips. McKay shrugged in answer. It was true, if blunt. He had made all the valuable contributions he was going to make, scientific or otherwise. His only child was grown. He had outlived most of his original colleagues, a great many of his friends, his wife, and the love of his life, some by several decades. He was just a useless old man now, waiting to die.

Jinto slouched and hooked his elbow over the back of his chair, a gesture copied directly from John Sheppard. McKay's sight dimmed momentarily with the familiar, old--almost comfortable now, really--pain.

"Well." Jinto smiled at him fondly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "I wouldn't have had to come out here if you didn't insist on not having a communicator in your house. Do you remember what day this is, Doctor Rodney?"

McKay shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't tell me Tal Weir wants to trundle me out to the city for another holiday ceremonial thing. I told Elizabeth I was done with those..."

Jinto snickered, then reached out and covered one of McKay's gnarled hands with his own. "Yes, Tal Weir sent me. No, it's nothing so formal. It's your birthday, Doctor Rodney! Your friends want you close so that we can celebrate with you!"

"Ah!" McKay blinked stupidly. He licked his lips. "It's that time again, already? Didn't I just have a birthday?"

"Of course. Last year."

"Oh. Right. Well, obviously it's not that important to me if I didn't even remember. We can probably skip it this year and--"

"Johnny wants you to come." Jinto gave him puppy-dog eyes on Johnny's behalf. "He would have come to get you himself, but he couldn't get away from the labs."

McKay sighed, and resigned himself to attending. He had seldom been able to deny his only child anything he truly wanted. Cara had often chided him for his weakness. The Villana and PerAn both were rather strict with their children. In comparison, both the Tau'ri and Athosians were ridiculously indulgent.

"I suppose they want the full rigmarole? Staying out there overnight and everything?" McKay took the twinkle in Jinto's eyes for assent, and he got up to start packing.

"Everyone will be there," Jinto offered, carrying the tray of tea things to the kitchen counter. "Tal Weir and her Household, Doctor Beckett-Cadman and her Household, several of your Yana clansfolk, the Defender, of course, and..."

The Defender, of course. McKay shrugged off the momentary paralysis over the mention of that name and let Jinto's prattle wash over him as he finished packing his overnight bag and closing up the house for an absence of at least a few days.

At the door, McKay tried to bat away Jinto's hands as they fastened a cloak over his shoulders. "Jinto, stop! It's hot out. It's spring already!"

"The wind is still cold, Doctor Rodney." Jinto smiled indulgently and patted McKay's shoulders after he finished. "You must be careful not to fall ill. We want you with us for many years yet. Here, let me carry your pack."

Knowing better than to argue, McKay let Jinto shoulder his pack. He tugged at the neckline of the cloak as he descended the front steps of the cottage, waving absently to Aisha as she peered out at them from her window. At least he could still navigate stairs with relative ease. All that running for his life on various planets under a variety of gravities had kept his limbs strong and useful. Not even much in the way of arthritis, so far, except for a little in his hands when the weather was damp. His back bothered him fiercely sometimes, but then it always had, and sleeping on the ground as often as he had over the years hadn't helped much.

As it was, he was easily able to keep up with Jinto's energetic stride down to the harbor, where the fishing and pleasure boats were anchored, and where the occasional jumper from the city or the space station would land.

McKay knew he was way past his mental prime. Even if none of his colleagues would admit it to his face, the proof was easy to find. For instance, it was only when the jumper came into view that it occurred to him to ask who the pilot was.

"Why, the Defender, of course," was Jinto's startled reply. "I thought you'd know that he would come for you himself, Doctor Rodney."

The Defender, of course.



Left To Fend

The Body Holographic