The Games We Play
7.
“Best out of fifteen,” Rodney said when Sheppard beat him for the sixth time in
a row.
“Are you going to keep doing this until you finally win?” Sheppard asked.
“Because we’ll be here all day.”
“I’ve been lulling you into a false sense of security,” Rodney replied.
“Okay.”
20.
“They built bombs.”
Rodney sighed and moved his bishop. “You keep coming back to that.”
“Bombs.”
“They were forward thinking. And it’s not like I told them to.”
“No, you provided them with the step by step instructions on how to do it all on
their own,” Sheppard responded, capturing Rodney’s pawn with one of his own.
“You’re just jealous that my country would have totally obliterated your
country in the end,” Rodney said.
“Please, we were in control the whole time. All we needed was one military unit
to make it into the city and…”
“You’re both sick, you know that, right?” Cadman asked as she walked past their
table with a tray of food.
They glanced at each other guiltily before, with a jolt, Rodney remembered the
time.
“I have to go,” he said. “I was supposed to meet Katie at seven, and
it’s…shit…five after.” Pushing away from the table, he got out of his seat.
“We’ll finish this tomorrow.”
Sheppard nodded and moved a piece on the board. “Sure.”
“Great,” Rodney said, gathering his laptop and papers, “then I’ll see you…”
“Check,” Sheppard said, interrupting him.
He froze. “What?”
“Check,” Sheppard repeated with a smirk.
“How…” Rodney muttered, dropping his things back on the table and returning to
his seat. He was already late, after all. A couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
35.
“Hi, boys.”
Rodney looked over to see Katie taking a seat next to him.
“Hi,” he said, feeling suddenly and inexplicably nervous. “What are you doing
here?”
“I came by for a soda and saw you two playing, so I thought I’d watch.” She
smiled at him and popped the tab on her can of Diet Coke.
Rodney didn’t know when playing chess with Sheppard had become a private ritual,
but apparently it had. They played in the mess, granted, but not even Ronon and
Teyla interrupted them. Rodney felt like having Katie there was violating some
sort of unspoken rule between him and Sheppard.
“How are you, Colonel?” Katie asked.
Sheppard’s arms were crossed over his chest, but he still gave her a loose grin.
“Good, and you?”
“I’m fine. What?” she asked, her smile dimming when she noticed Rodney’s face.
“It’s just…”
“What?” she repeated.
“Nothing,” he replied a little too quickly, not wanting to hurt her feelings.
“We’re glad you’re here. Aren’t we, Colonel?”
“Absolutely,” Sheppard replied. “In fact, it’s a good thing you showed up,
Doctor. I’ve got a ton of work to do before my meeting tomorrow with Elizabeth.
Why don’t you take my place here?”
“But…” Rodney said, watching as Sheppard stood up.
“Okay,” Katie said to Rodney after dropping herself into Sheppard’s seat, “I’m
just letting you know now that I’m not very good.”
36.
“Sorry about…” Rodney let himself trail off, moving his knight instead.
“What?” Sheppard asked, glancing up.
“Nothing.”
42.
This was getting ridiculous.
“How do you keep winning?”
“By being better than you?” Sheppard suggested.
Rodney ignored him, lost in his own musings. “I mean, it’s pure luck, obviously,
since comparing my intelligence to yours is like comparing King Kong to a
Hobbit.”
“Thanks, Rodney,” Sheppard drawled.
“Oh, the same could be said about anyone,” he replied generously. “But the
question is how? Just the laws of probability say I have to win one some
time. Hmm…now there’s a thought. Maybe it’s because you’re a natural gene
carrier. Atlantis could somehow be getting inside your head and enabling you to
win.”
“Yeah that,” Sheppard said, looking amused. “Or, you know, I could just be much,
much better than you.”
“Please, be realistic,” Rodney scoffed.
56.
The chessboard had been set up on the table next to Rodney’s bed in the
infirmary when he came to about an hour ago.
“There has to be a limit on how many times I can get hit with a stunner before
it leads to permanent brain damage,” Rodney said carefully, his words slurring
together.
Sheppard crossed his rook to the other side of the board in a ploy that Rodney
wasn’t nearly stupid enough to fall for, his temporarily paralyzed state
notwithstanding. “That would explain a lot.”
“Ha ha,” Rodney grumbled. “That’s right, mock the dying man. I can’t move my
legs, you know. It’s been almost six hours since I was hit.”
“Carson says you’re going to be fine. Still your turn.”
“Hmm? Oh, right.” Rodney ignored the siren call of Sheppard’s rook and instead
moved his knight to f5. “And I’ve seen the way that man works. It’s just making
stuff up as he goes along.”
“I am standing right here,” Carson commented without lifting his eyes
from his microscope.
The nurse on duty tittered as she fiddled with Rodney’s IV.
“The microscope’s fake,” he stage-whispered to Sheppard. “It keeps him
entertained during the day so that the rest of us can get our work done. Also,
it makes him feel important.”
“Never wise to taunt the man in charge of the pain medication, Rodney.”
“That’s a good point,” Rodney admitted, turning back to the game. He bit back a
yawn as Sheppard nudged a bishop forward one space. “So Colonel, the people on
that planet. Are we going back to…”
“Don’t worry about it right now,” Sheppard interrupted.
“Why not?” Rodney asked, pointedly looking down at his bedridden state. “Not
like I have anything else to do.”
“Maybe you should concentrate a little more on your game then.”
“Please, I caught onto your trap like ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah?” Sheppard said, cocking an eyebrow and moving his queen. “Checkmate.”
“What?” Rodney sputtered, glaring at the board and feeling betrayed by his
neatly cornered pieces. He slumped back against the pillows, and once he did,
his eyes began to shut of their own accord. “That’s not fair. I’m mortally
wounded.”
He slipped off into sleep to the sound of the wooden pieces being packed up,
Sheppard’s fingers brushing against the inside of his wrist, Sheppard’s voice
saying, “Night, buddy.”
67.
They were playing for nearly half an hour before Sheppard finally broached the
subject.
“So, Dr. Brown.”
“Not talking about it,” Rodney said, focusing all of his attention on the board.
The situation was humiliating enough without having to explain to Sheppard that
he’d been dumped – and for someone in the soft sciences, no less.
Sheppard moved a pawn. “I walked in on her and Parrish in the third floor
greenhouse this afternoon.”
Rodney’s head jerked up. “You did?”
“Botanists,” Sheppard said with a sad shake of his head.
Despite himself, Rodney snorted. “I know. What was I thinking?” He surveyed the
board speculatively, trying not to let his excitement show.
When Sheppard took his queen and before his hand even left the board, Rodney
made the winning move.
“Checkmate!” he crowed, delighted.
68.
“You could do better.”
“Excuse me,” Rodney protested defensively, “who won the last game?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sheppard said.
“Wha…oh.”
77.
“It’s crowded in here today.”
Sheppard looked around the quarter-full mess before raising an eyebrow at
Rodney. “No, it’s not.”
“No. It’s not,” Rodney agreed sadly.
It wasn’t, but he’d thought up that segue with the seven o’clock dinner rush in
mind. Where was everyone? Didn’t they need to eat? He morosely moved his knight.
“Your move.”
Sheppard watched him for a long moment. “You know,” he finally said, “I think
you’re right.”
“I am?” Rodney asked, eyes widening.
“Yeah, this place is pretty full.”
“Well, we could go to my quarters,” Rodney suggested hopefully.
“Cool,” Sheppard said and grinned.