A manic part of Rodney’s mind wonders if this is what a stroke feels like.
“Excuse me?”
In front of him, Woolsey sniffs and raises his chin that much higher. “Of course, your efficiency audit scores remain more than satisfactory. Surprisingly excellent, even, if you don’t mind me saying. But there is always room for improvement, I often like to remind myself.”
Somewhere in the room, someone snorts. A beat later, and someone else giggles.
Rodney can only blink, very slowly, and when he opens his eyes again, Woolsey visibly deflates. “No one can argue with your results, Dr. McKay, but a little precaution goes a long way. And being open to learn from one’s subordinates is always a valuable trait in a leader.”
With that, Woolsey steps out of the conference room, leaving Rodney to blindly reach for a chair until he’s settled enough that the walls finally stop curving around him. “Did– did that just happen?”
One by one, almost rehearsed and no doubt with utter glee, his team pops into his line of sight. They’re wisely keeping the table between him and the rest of them, but only Teyla has the sense of honor to attempt a sincere expression of sympathy. Rodney decides there and then that it’s really time for him to find other friends.
“I don’t know, Rodney,” Sheppard deigns to contribute. “Kinda sounded like Woolsey just called you reckless.”
“As though you have trouble following safety protocol,” Teyla feels the need to add.
“Said you’re mad,” Ronon spells out, for good measure.
The Colonel looks like he’s having the time of his miserable life as he props his ass against the edge of Woolsey’s 12-foot long symbol of overcompensation.
“Maybe he’s on to something,” Sheppard says. “Maybe Zelenka really is just a more careful scientist than you.”
The words immediately make his eyes burn, and Rodney swiftly remembers just exactly what made his world stop and his pristine thoughts of an early lunch come to a screeching halt barely a moment ago.
He twists in his seat, makes his now-trained gaze sweep beyond the confines of the room until he finds the root of all this bedlam.
Radek is a small but distinct figure by the consoles in the Control Room, his apparent destination after triumphantly flouncing out of the meeting with Woolsey’s final discussion point on his heels.
The same discussion point that declared him to be ‘an admirably circumspect scientific mind’ and all but made Rodney out to be an impetuous strumpet in comparison.
Radek. The same bastard who only last week dismissed Rodney’s weary reminders to close the blast doors and recalibrate their shielding before nearly blowing up what would’ve been half of the South Pier.
Radek. Who just last night called Rodney a pussy for not authorizing a pet project to build miniature drones.
It may just be his imagination — exacerbated by his team’s amusement and the growing certainty that he’s going to miss lunch today — but Rodney swears he can hear undeniably Czech whistling from across the tower. It makes him see red.
“RADEK!” Rodney shrieks as he bolts out of the chair. “GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE WORM!”
I AM WATCHING THE SHRINE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LIKE A DECADE AND I JUST NOW SAW RADEK COMING DOWN FROM THE JUMPER BAY LOOKING UPSET. RADEK SAID GOODBYE TO RODNEY IN THE JUMPER BEFORE THEY LEFT. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD HOW IS THIS EPISODE FINDING NEW WAYS TO HURT ME, RADEK CRIED DON’T TOUCH ME RADEK CRIED AND SAID GOODBYE NO NOOOOOO
