[Previous entry: "Firefly Fic: We Walk A Thousand Stairs (Zoe, PG)"]

12/22/2007: "SGA Fic: An Imprecise Process (Lorne, Lorne/Sheppard, PG)"

Title: An Imprecise Process
Pairing/Characters: Lorne/Sheppard, Keller, Zelenka, team.
Rating: PG
Words: About 2400
Spoilers: Up to 4x10
Summary: Explain the nature of the disconnection.
Notes: Many thanks to bitter_crimson for beta and encouragement!


Convincingly duplicating an individual human is an imprecise process. Mannerisms, inflections, facial expressions – they need to be studied, practiced, refined. At least, this is what he assumes. This is the theory.

He has never had such an opportunity.

*

Even as he walks down the corridor, familiar and wrong, he is trying to fit into the role.

"Major," Teyla Emmagan says as he approaches, "Is there any news of the Stargate?"

He shakes his head. "Dr. McKay still isn't having any luck."

She frowns, and he knows exactly why. They have had this conversation before, although not so frequently that he can predict exactly what she will say. "I am anxious for my people," she says. "They will be concerned when their Stargate does not connect with our own."

Teyla Emmagan is deeply invested in her people. Without them, she feels incomplete, disconnected. Her friendship with John Sheppard and the others helps to mitigate these feelings, but with each day of involuntary separation, she grows more anxious.

Of course, she does not show this. But he knows. They all know. They can't help but know; they have been in her mind. "I'm sure Dr. McKay will have it figured out soon."

"Yes." She inclines her head, and he knows he is dismissed.

*

"Is it difficult?" Keller asks him. She has insisted they think of themselves as their characters to avoid slipping out of the role. Even in this small room, door locked and sensors active, they must play the part.

He looks at her. The window is open, and a breeze stirs her hair. "How so?"

She shrugs. "They don't know me well. Keller. She is so new. It makes it surprisingly easy. But they know you. Especially Colonel Sheppard. There are expectations. Is it difficult?"

He thinks about it. "No."

She watches him carefully for a few moments. "Do you like this? Being him?"

He slips his hands into his pants pockets. Pockets are novel, and surprisingly well-suited to the human form. He fails to understand why they were not included in the Alteran programming. "I haven't thought about it."

She doesn't believe him, and she shouldn't. Nevertheless, she smiles. "I find it interesting, being her. Even when I don't know who she is supposed to be." She smiles. "I am almost enjoying it."

There is silence for a long while, both of them watching the water through the window.

*

Each time he speaks with Teyla Emmagan, he becomes more certain that she is convinced by his portrayal of Major Lorne. At first, he was concerned that he would be easily unmasked. Duplicating a human without first studying him was bound to fail. But the longer the experiment continues, the more he realises this is not the case.

He is the Major Lorne of their memories, and knowing how they see him makes it easier, more convincing. Teyla Emmagan thinks of him but rarely, but she nevertheless trusts him and his judgement. It is easy to let her talk, let her draw conclusions about his responses through his own silences.

Ronon Dex thinks of Major Lorne even less, but feels he has a steady hand with a gun. There is target practice, where he can reinforce that perspective.

Dr. McKay thinks of Major Lorne as a little dull perhaps, and sarcastic when annoyed; this is a trait that McKay understands.

He, however, finds sarcasm unfamiliar, an odd marker of humanity. He knows of sarcasm through the humans' minds, but he does not entirely comprehend the practice. At best, he suspects he portrays this trait poorly.

McKay does not seem to notice; perhaps he simply believes that Major Lorne is not annoyed at this time.

Most of his information about Major Lorne comes from John Sheppard. This is only logical – he is Sheppard's second-in-command, and they are both military. They share common denominators, common goals. Sheppard sees Lorne as dependable, reliable, and efficient. He trusts the Major, and unlike some of Sheppard's own commanding officers, he leaves Major Lorne considerable latitude, because he knows that Lorne plays by the rules.

"Major?" he hears over his earpiece, a small and inefficient piece of human technology.

"Sir?"

There's a pause before Sheppard says, "There was situation with some of the men this morning – you know how it is, cooped up, getting antsy – and I was wondering if –"

"I could think up some creative deterrents for future incidents?" he finishes.

"Yeah, something like that." Sheppard sounds amused, tired, irritated.

He takes a moment to admire the thoroughness of the simulated Atlantis military officers before answering, "Of course, sir." Dependability has always been one of his qualities, long before he ever came to know of Major Evan Lorne. He is dependable for John Sheppard without even thinking about it.

*

"You're getting better," Ronon says, as they reload. "Been practicing more?"

No, although he could certainly use the malfunctioning Stargate as an excuse to say yes. "Just natural talent, I guess," he says as dryly as he can, and misadjusts his aim by the appropriate percentage.

"Heard that was with paint."

He shoots off five rounds, hitting the target with a less remarkable degree of accuracy. "Perhaps," he says, hoping no one asks him to draw or paint. He knows Major Lorne does this, but he has no idea how.

It seems like a frivolous activity.

*

It is the contradictions, the unspoken expectations, the memories tucked away and rarely examined that have the potential to confuse him. These are intertwined with emotions that perhaps the humans are unwilling to admit to. Humans sometimes hide their secrets well, even from themselves.

There is Dr. McKay's grudging respect, which he would never vocalise. And there is the odd sense of longing from Ronon Dex when he looks at Major Lorne and other members of the military. Ronon Dex wants something from them, but he will never admit to it.

There is want from Sheppard as well, but of a different kind. It is linked with specific memories – powerful, yet surprisingly imprecise. They are memories of the feel of Major Lorne's skin beneath Sheppard's hands, and the press of bodies against one another. Sheppard remembers these encounters – too brief, and inexplicably unsatisfying on some levels – with a mixture of desire, expectation, relief. He counts them on one hand, and never speaks of them; nor does he ever speak of the furtive undertones the encounters carry.

At first, it made the role unclear. Who is Major Lorne to Sheppard? How should he act on Sheppard's memories? But eventually, he came to realise that Sheppard does not expect Lorne to act. He expects nothing – beyond reliability, and efficiency – and would not ask for more.

Except, of course, when he does ask. He asks with a subtle change in his body language; he asks when he casually says, "Evan," instead of, "Major Lorne," in a quiet corridor. He asks without any true expectation that Major Lorne will agree. Sheppard asks because he wants that brief contact, illicit yet important.

When Sheppard asks, he says yes, because that is what Major Lorne would do. He says yes, they find an unused room, and the encounter is rushed, urgent, just as Sheppard expects it to be.

He wonders, if he were truly Major Lorne, would he also expect this rushed intimacy? Teyla Emmagan and Dr. McKay and Ronon Dex do not think of sex this way. For Teyla, it is more lush, relaxed. Ronon is pragmatic, not unlike John Sheppard, but he also strives to make pleasure last. Dr. McKay has elaborate fantasies, detailed and anticipatory.

Each of them seems to want more than Sheppard expects. Does the real Major Lorne, living in the true Atlantis, working with the real John Sheppard every day, also want more?

He thinks perhaps that yes is the answer.

*

"It's tempting, you know," Zelenka says.

He looks up from his data pad. The trackers indicate that none of Oberoth's ships are near the system. "Hmm?"

"To want to be them. To think that we are who we say we are."

He frowns. "You want to be Radek Zelenka?"

Zelenka shrugs. "Not precisely, no. But I want – the connections that he has. Rodney's feelings about Radek are very complicated, do you know?"

Of course he knows. In an emergency, he could also be Radek Zelenka.

"It intrigues me. It is interesting to work beside Rodney, and understand how he perceives me." It is a slip, but covered easily. "Perceives Radek, that is. And what he knows about Radek's life is very intriguing to me. I would like to talk with this man. I would like to learn if he perceives himself in the same way Rodney does. I want to know more."

"You want to be more."

Zelenka looks at him, gaze hard behind his glasses. "Do not tell me you do not."

*

It is a day later that Sheppard looks at him, shifts in a way that Major Lorne has slowly grown to know, and asks, "You have a minute?"

He notes the lack of rank in the question, says yes, and follows Sheppard down the corridor to his office. Once inside, doors locked, he lets Sheppard back him against a wall. Sheppard and Major Lorne have done this before – right here, Sheppard's hand on his hip, his eyes dark – and he knows what is expected.

Instead, he says, "I want more." It startles him. This is not part of the rules; this is not what Sheppard expects from Major Lorne.

Sheppard steps back. "What?"

"More than this. Sir."

Sheppard is frowning, the same look he gets when he does not understand a technical explanation, or when he's annoyed by the finer points of shift deployments. "Major, I –"

He knows. "Just thought I'd let you know, sir."

Scrubbing his hand through his hair, Sheppard watches him. "This isn't a –"

Relationship. This is what Sheppard wants to say, he is certain. "Of course not. But we have time. The 'gate's down."

"Don't remind me. No, better yet, don't remind McKay."

He grins, and he knows exactly what that grin looks like. He's seen it through Sheppard's eyes. "Don't poke the bear, sir?" he asks, even though he only has a vague understanding of what a bear is.

"Yeah. Something like that." Sheppard's shoulders relax, just slightly. "Look, we shouldn't really – this is just –"

He knows. But he doesn't say so.

Sheppard watches him for a moment, carefully, and finally he steps back, arms slack. "You still off duty later tonight?" he asks, even though he knows the answer.

"Yes."

Nodding once, a sharp movement that contrasts with his relaxed stance, Sheppard says, "I'll meet you. Your quarters."

Yes. He will have time to arrange something that seems appropriate, what Sheppard would expect from a fellow soldier. And perhaps there should be painting supplies.

*

The longer the experiment runs, the less certain he is of their goals. Ascension – why should these humans be capable? There is no evidence that they are, inherently.

"What is ascension?" he asks Keller, not for the first time.

"A new state of being," she responds serenely. It is a familiar answer. "An altered sense of consciousness. It is our goal."

In the end, despite her smooth answers, she is uncertain. They all are. Why should humans – with their secrets from each other and from themselves, with their contradictions and wilful blindness – be capable of this next step? Perhaps they are too far removed from the Alteran stock.

He has more questions, but he is distracted when she asks, "Does Colonel Sheppard still trust you?"

He nods. "Of course."

"You believe he will meet you in your quarters tonight?"

"Yes." He is certain, although Sheppard may not be.

"What do you think of the sexual intimacies?"

There is no need for her to ask. She knows. They all know. There is no true separation between them; unlike the humans, they are a collective, functioning together, working for the whole. Still, she believes it is polite to ask. It is a conceit, perhaps.

He humours her. "Interesting."

She continues to stare out at the sea. "Was it difficult? The first time?"

He considers the answer. "No. I had his memories, I knew what he would expect; how Major Lorne would react." He'd known what would make Major Lorne say, "Jesus, fuck," how exactly he would twist so he could push Sheppard against the wall. He'd known what Sheppard hoped he would do, better than Major Lorne himself would.

It had been an advantage.

"You must keep his trust," she says after a short pause. "Should he become suspicious, I believe that they will all follow suit."

Perhaps so, although he wonders if Teyla Emmagan is in fact a better gauge, someone to be more closely watched.

"I believe out experiment will work. Already we have a much better understanding than the Alterans ever left us."

And what then? He almost asks. What will happen with the duplicates?

*

Arranging his quarters is not quite a challenge. He considers the traits, the personality markers that John Sheppard associates with Major Lorne, and extrapolates from there. Thus, unlike Sheppard's own quarters, he arranges things in precise ways, with little personalization. He does, however, include an easel, and small pots of pigment. On one corner of his desk, a lanky, hardy plant bathes in sunlight. It is a testament to Major Lorne's friendship with Dr. Parrish.

In the bathroom, he places a toothbrush and toothpaste. His reflection in the mirror should startle him – it is not his face, not his body – but it does not. Perhaps this should be worrying, but instead he only has questions. Is this the way that Major Lorne stands, when no one is watching him? Is this hair – flat and carefully groomed – truly representative of Major Lorne, or merely in inaccurate rendering triggered by imprecise memories?

How perfectly do the lines of his reflection match the lines on Major Lorne's face? Would Major Lorne immediately recognise himself? Would that recognition withstand closer examination?

With each successive question, the conclusion appears increasingly inescapable. This copy is incomplete.

"Explain the nature of the disconnection," he says, anticipating the words that Keller will speak in the future.

He is frowning at his reflection, struggling for an answer when something rocks the city. An explosion, unexpected and jarring.

He does not wait for Sheppard's call to start running.


End.