Title: Chase
Author: kbk
Notes: Inconsequential Grodin-centric genfic, set fairly early in the expedition. 700ish words. No warnings, no spoilers. For the City Exploration challenge at lj-comm sga_flashfic.
The power drain out on the south-west pier is less than one per cent of their capacity, so when Peter notices it, he just makes a note in the maintenance log and leaves it be. The next time he comes on shift, the note is gone, as is the power drain, and so he forgets about it, thoroughly enough that the next time the drain shows up, he notes it down with only the tiniest flicker of deja vu. A fortnight later, give or take - everyone seems to have their own opinion about how the calendar should be amended, if it should, what with the different rotation rate and unknown orbit; and half the computers are an hour off the rest thanks to Daylight Savings - he starts to note it down for the fifth time, and finally it sticks in his brain. The notes shouldn't have been erased, of course, they should have been amended like the rest. Something odd is going on.
He deletes the note. He thinks about it all through the last hour of his shift, but he's made a decision, and when he leaves the gateroom his feet automatically take him to the nearest transport cubicle. It will only take him two-thirds of the way, but he's been living a fairly sedentary life in Atlantis and the exercise will do him good. Since the first few days of setting up, he's barely been outside the top few floors of the central tower, with the gateroom and the canteen and his "essential personnel, second tier" quarters, which have a nice view but sod-all else to recommend them. Still, he has an excellent map of Atlantis in his head, thanks to all the time he's spent tracing schematics and directing reconnaisance teams.
Peter steps out of the cubicle and turns right, and right again, and through the next door is the main corridor. Then all he has to do is follow it for approximately half a mile, take the side-passage to the balcony, and it's in the next room along. He hasn't even reached the first bend in the corridor when he starts jogging. This, of course, is because the drain's been going for an hour already and may not last much longer, and has nothing to do with him being creeped out by being alone and surrounded by empty room after empty room in a section that's only nominally cleared.
He stops to catch his breath when he reaches the balcony, leaning on the railing for balance. The sea looks as peaceful as ever, and he watches the sunlight dance on the water until his heart slows. He really ought to get back into some sort of fitness routine - going offworld seems to be working for McKay, but he also ends up in the infirmary far too often for comfort, and anyway Peter is quite happy where he is, and probably far more useful there too.
The slap of feet catches his attention, and it comes from the room he was heading for. He spots a laptop and a pile of paper which looks as if it was pushed carelessly out of the door, and the report on top looks very familiar. He pads along the balcony, staying out of sight from inside - difficult, as most of that wall of the room appears to be composed of windows - and sees that yes, it's the recommendations he put together on IDC protocol, and when he peeks through the glass he sees Dr Weir dashing across the room.
She taps the patch of blue light on the wall, and it disappears. Peter ducks as she spins round, and listens to her quick steps - and she must be barefoot, because half-buried under the papers are her shoes. "Oh, now that's not fair!" she says suddenly, voice musical with laughter, and he can't resist. He peeks again, and sees her staring up at the ceiling with her hands on her hips, watching a patch of light move slowly from side to side. It fades, and she sags. Playtime's over.
Peter creeps away before she can see him, and later, he puts a note in the maintenance log. "Power drain inconsequential, unavoidable - ignore."
