Sobriquet

By Helen Adams

A/N: For all I know, there are already a million and one versions of this story out there, but I couldn’t help myself. The sight of Teyla – usually so polite and respectful of other people’s feelings and customs – yukking it up with John, Ronon and Jeannie Miller at Rodney’s expense in “McKay and Mrs. Miller” made me wonder if she might feel differently after she’d had a little time to think.

As she entered the Atlantis mess hall, Teyla’s eyes scanned the mostly empty room, her gaze settling upon the object of her search almost immediately. Nodding to herself, the Athosian woman made a point of obtaining a helping of today’s lunch offering, though she was not at all hungry. She had quickly discovered that the Earth people had customs when it came to conversation, and that the introduction of an uncomfortable topic was made easier for them if they could digest the words along with their meal.

“Rodney, do you mind if I join you?” she asked, stopping before the oblivious scientist with her tray raised inquiringly.

Rodney looked up, large blue eyes blinking rapidly as he dragged his attention away from whatever inner thoughts had been occupying him. “What? Oh, sure. Have a seat.”

She accepted the invitation gracefully, poking her fork at the peculiar orange mass on her plate. “What does your cook call this substance again?”

He grinned at the doubtful expression on her face. “Spaghetti. Very popular back home. You should try it with a little bit of cheese sprinkled over the top.”

Teyla wound a bit of the spaghetti over her fork and took a small bite. Her mouth curved into a smile as she chewed it. “It is quite delicious. One never knows when appearances may prove deceiving.”

Helping himself to a heaping forkful from his own plate, Rodney nodded with enthusiasm. “Doesn’t seem quite right does it? Some of the best tasting foods I’ve had on the trading planets we’ve visited have also been the most disgusting looking.”

“Or sounding,” she agreed. “Remember the dessert item on MX3-947?”

He snorted. “Prooka Paste. Definitely not something that would attract a lot of customers if they found it on the menu.”

“And yet the flavor was most excellent; worthy of respect and admiration.”

Rodney shrugged. “Ya never know, I guess.”

Seeing that she was about to lose his attention to the laptop beside his tray again, Teyla raised her voice slightly. “Such consideration is also true of people.”

He grunted, the sound either disagreement or indigestion, it was difficult to tell from the grimace that accompanied it.

Teyla realized that she would have to be more direct. “Meredith.”

The signs she had been expecting appeared immediately. McKay’s spine stiffened, his shoulders hunched and his features froze into a look of dread and wariness.

Teyla’s features softened into a fond smile that she hoped would have a calming effect upon her suddenly nervous friend. “It is an unusual name. I have never heard a similar one among my people. What is its meaning?”

Rodney remained tense, but his rigid posture relaxed slightly when it became apparent that she was not going to laugh again, at least not right away. “Um, I’m not sure, really. It’s an old Welsh name, I think.” Seeing her questioning look, he added, “Wales is a country. It’s not too far from Scotland, where Carson is from.”

“And it is a name that can be bestowed upon both male and female,” she said, not really making it a question. Her smile turned wry. “In spite of John’s insistence that Meredith is a girl’s name.”

He grimaced, but the look was more resigned than irritated. “It can be either, but for the last 60 years or so, it’s been primarily given to girls.” He snorted. “A fact of which I’ve been reminded by pretty much everyone I’ve ever met.”

“And that is why you do not use it, except within your family?”

Rodney shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the topic but willing to share since she had bothered to ask. “Not much I can do to change that. My mom used that name, then Jeannie picked it up, and so . . .” He waved one agitated hand up into the air, then shrugged again.

“Did the name have particular significance to your mother?” Teyla asked, having picked up a hint of something in his voice.

For a long moment, Rodney stared at her, frowning in a puzzled manner. “Why are you so interested in this, anyway?”

Forgoing her pretense of hunger, Teyla pushed her tray aside and folded her hands, leaning forward to devote her full attention to the man opposite her. “Because a few nights ago, I listened to the stories told by your sister, enjoying them for their own sake as they revealed more information about you than you have ever chosen to share, and laughing at them because I was enjoying the effect those stories had upon Major Sheppard and your own reaction to them.” She smiled with a hint of mischief. “Sometimes you are very fun to tease, Rodney.”

Though he looked a bit unhappy with her observation, he merely sighed. “And Jeannie would know all the right buttons to push. Disadvantage of having grown up together.”

Teyla nodded. “And I am interested because I realized too late that in my enjoyment of your reaction, I had offended you. Perhaps even hurt you, and that was not my intention. I owe you an apology.”

Rodney looked so shocked by her apology that Teyla once more found it difficult not to laugh at his expense. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

“What is the significance of the name Meredith?” she asked again, honestly curious to know now.

Seeming unable to come up with any reason not to tell her, Rodney once again distracted himself with few mouthfuls of spaghetti, then said, “It was my grandfather’s name. I never actually knew him. He died long before I was born, but I guess my Mom thought he was just about the greatest man who ever lived.” Rodney shifted uncomfortably. “He wasn’t famous, he wasn’t a genius or anything grand and brilliant; just a regular working-class man who was devoted to his family and took care of them for as long as he was able.”

“And your mother loved him deeply, and wished to honor his memory by passing his name onto her first born child.”

Rodney looked a little surprised. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Then I must apologize again for my behavior,” Teyla said, bowing her head respectfully. “For I know what it is to love and honor one’s father and wish to preserve the memory of a kind and devoted man. You are fortunate to carry the legacy of your grandfather by bearing his name.”

“I never really thought of it that way before.”

Teyla rose from her chair, and held out her right hand in the Earth custom. Rodney accepted the handshake without thought. “I am pleased to have learned more about you, Meredith Rodney McKay,” she said formally.

Rodney’s brows rose and a pleased smile lifted his lips. “Thank you.” Then the smile faltered a little, growing worried. “You aren’t going to keep calling me that, are you?”

A ringing laugh bubbled from the Athosian’s lips, laughing with Rodney this time rather than at him. “No, Dr. McKay.”

Relieved, he laughed as well. “Oh . . . well, then, good.” Eyeing her lunch tray, which still held an untouched chocolate brownie and a cup of blue jello, hope filled his eyes. “You gonna finish that?”

Teyla smiled and passed over the desserts. “I will see you at the mission briefing this evening.”

Peeling back the foil covering on the jello cup, his eyes already fixed on his laptop again, Rodney waved vaguely. “Yeah, okay, see you later.”

Within seconds he was once more fully absorbed in the electronic symbols crawling across the screen. Teyla shook her head and departed. She might never understand her Earth friends completely, this one in particular, but as she glanced back at the man who was now excitedly tapping away on the keyboard of his laptop, she smiled. Often the most difficult puzzles to solve were the ones that proved most worthy of the effort.

She would just have to keep trying.

THE END

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