As John paced the infirmary, he wondered what the hell had convinced him to put a scientist on his team. Just because they did it at the SGC didn't mean they had to do it here, on Atlantis. It wasn't that McKay wasn't an invaluable member of the team--he was, to John's surprise--but still, he wasn't a soldier. And while he'd been surprisingly fast when those weird giant pig things attacked them out of nowhere, he'd still been the one to get gored.

It turned out to be more of a scratch than a full-on goring. "He'll be all right," Beckett said, glancing from John to Ford to Teyla as he dried his hands. "He lost a bit of blood and the wound required some stitches but other than that and a little discomfort, he'll be fine."

"We'll get out of your way, then, Doc," Ford said, taking the hint.

"Good night, Doctor Beckett," Teyla said. "Please tell Rodney that we are glad he was not injured more seriously."

They both paused and looked at John.

"You guys take off; I'm gonna stick around for a few," he said. He hated infirmaries, but McKay was one of his men and he really wanted to make sure he was okay.

Without even thinking about it, John pushed past the privacy screen. Behind him Beckett snapped, "Major!" in a fierce voice John had never heard before.

"Major," McKay said, giving John a huge grin. When he spoke again it was in a conspiratorial whisper. "I am so unbelievably high right now...."

The wound was on McKay's side, long and shallow under neat stitches; Beckett did good work.

"Major," Beckett said again. "You need to leave...."

John had never seen McKay without his shirt, and he supposed, now that he'd seen that the wound was okay, he could be excused for checking McKay out. Well no, he shouldn't be doing that because...what the hell? John stared, wondering where on earth McKay had gotten the strange scars across the middle of his chest. "Looks like you've been gored before," he said.

"Bloody hell," Beckett said from behind him.

"Huh?" McKay said, lifting his head to look down at his chest. "Gored...oh no, that was the mas...mast...." He waved his hand vaguely. "Where they took the tits off."

"Rodney," Beckett said, coming up to McKay's bedside. "You really shouldn't be talking right now."

It was too late, of course. John wasn't stupid and he'd hardly just fallen off a turnip truck either. "Shit," he muttered. "I'm sorry...."

"Don't be," McKay said, his voice still slurred and slow. "They were a big pain in the ass...glad they're gone."

"I'm sure you are, buddy," John said. "Look, I'm glad you're okay and now I think the doc wants you to get some sleep."

"'Kay," McKay said.

John turned around, proud that he hadn't looked down at McKay's crotch once, and walked back out into the main infirmary. He wasn't at all surprised when Beckett called out.

"I'd like to see you in my office, Major." It wasn't a request and John, figuring that he deserved what ever dressing down he was about to receive, headed into Beckett's tiny office and waited.

"He asleep?" he asked when Beckett joined him. Although John knew it was wrong, he rolled the pronouns around in his head for a moment. He? She? He? But no, he already thought of McKay as male and while this was going to take some getting used to, he doubted he'd slip up on the pronouns at least.

"Yes," Beckett said, fiddling with the stylus for his tablet.

"How many people know?" John asked. "Here, I mean."

"Just myself, Elizabeth, and Dr. Heightmeyer," Beckett said. "He legally changed identities, although his full medical history is on record with the SGC and, I assume, with whoever gave him his security clearances throughout his career."

"Yeah," John said, not really following all of that. "I...he...I had no idea."

"You weren't supposed to," Beckett said dryly. "And perhaps, Major, next time you'll think before poking around in my infirmary."

"Sorry about that. It's just...he's on my team and I had to check up on him." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I don't suppose he'll just forget the conversation."

"As much as you might hope he will, I wouldn't count on it." Beckett gave John a stern look. "You'd better have a talk with him when he's not as confused as he is now."

"I suppose he'll be flattered," John said. "I mean, I never guessed, so he's been passing pretty well."

Beckett frowned. "Major, he's not passing and he won't be flattered if you use that term. Rodney's a man and that's how he's always thought of himself. If you start treating him differently, he won't thank you for it."

"Sorry," John said. He took a deep breath. "Doc, I don't know how this works. I don't want to treat him differently but.... I just don't know."

"Tell Rodney that," Beckett replied. "You know how he is; he'll want to explain it all to you."

"Yeah, that's McKay, all right."

As John left the office a few minutes later, he wondered what McKay's name had been before, and then he wondered if "before" was the right word. Beckett said McKay had always thought of himself as a man, but...always? Since he could think? Since he knew the difference between boys and girls? He tired to imagine McKay as a little girl and no, his brain was having none of it.

* * *

He visited McKay the next morning, after a somewhat annoying meeting with Bates--no, John wasn't going to restrict the Athosians' access to the city anymore than he already did; it was bad enough that they were all on the mainland with no Stargate. It wasn't the best time to visit; John was still kind of hyped up from the meeting. He walked a fine line with Bates and he knew it, knew that the last person he wanted to totally alienate was his senior non-com.

And now he had to have this conversation.

"Hey," he said, ducking into McKay's little curtained off area after checking with Beckett to make sure McKay was up to having visitors. "How're you doing?"

"Carson took away the good drugs, damn him," McKay said. "Vicodin's no fun."

"I dunno," John said, trying really hard not to stare at McKay's face. "I kinda like the whole numb thing."

"Yeah well, morphine would make this conversation a lot easier."

"Uh, yeah, about that," John began. "Can you blame me if I was hoping you'd forget the whole thing?"

"Oh, hell no," McKay replied. "Trust me this isn't my favorite conversation to have, although I figured back when I joined your team that having it with you was inevitable."

"Oh?"

"One way or another, you were going to see me without some of my clothing."

"So why didn't you tell me?"

McKay gave him the "are you really that stupid" look. "I didn't know you well enough and we're part of a closed community; in our positions, we have to be able to work together even if I wasn't on your team." He sighed. "And then, when I figured that you were pretty open-minded for someone who didn't come out of the SGC...well, it's still not my favorite conversation to have."

"Thanks for the backhanded compliment." John took a deep breath. "Doctor Beckett said some things last night that made me realize.... Look, I went to college, not the Academy, and hung out with a pretty unusual crowd, but I didn't know anyone...."

"Quite this weird?" McKay smirked just a little.

"Yeah," John said. "And then, well, the Air Force isn't know for it's appreciation of," he made finger quotes, "alternative lifestyles. So what I'm trying to say is that aside from knowing that transsexuals exist, I'm really pretty ignorant here."

"Ignorance I can handle," McKay said. "At least you're not stupid--and take that as a compliment, because I don't say it very often."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

McKay ignored him and went on. "It's like this. I never once felt comfortable in my body as a kid. When I was younger, it was just this sense that something was off, wrong somehow, but later on, I realized what was going on. Needless to say, my parents weren't all that interested in doing anything about it, but since I'm a genius, I was able to get away from home when I was sixteen." He smiled wryly and when he spoke again, it sounded a little less rote.

"I've actually got your government to thank for the fact that I'm legally Rodney and not Meredith. They wanted me enough that they were willing to get me the...well the help I needed to be who I am now."

"Meredith?" John finally let himself really look at McKay, trying to see any traces of the girl he'd once been. He shook his head. "Honestly, I'd have never guessed."

"You should have seen me as a teenager," McKay said with a wry smile. "I was kinda homely."

"Yeah?" John grinned. "So was I."

"Oh please, Major."

"No, really. I had pretty bad acne and I was really skinny and my nose was too big. Also? Braces."

"I used to wear these really loose jeans and oversized men's shirts; drove my mother crazy."

"I sometimes wore eyeliner and a lot of black on the weekends."

"Oh my God," McKay said. "You were goth?"

"Well not really," John said. "I wasn't committed to the whole thing; I just did it to piss off my parents and be different from everyone at school, which wasn't too difficult since I went to a boarding school."

"Seriously?" McKay began to laugh. "I mean really, my childhood sucked, but like I said, I left early. When I went to college, I just dressed the same, but I started binding and started using my middle name. A lot of people thought I was girly because I was so young and not because I had a girl's body."

"Binding?"

"My chest," McKay explained. "Unfortunately for me, I got the McKay boobs. That's why the scars are so visible."

"Oh," John said, a little taken aback by McKay's matter-of-factness. "The whole thing must have been...really hard."

Way to understate the matter, idiot.

"You could put it like that," McKay said. "You're dealing with this pretty well, you know."

"Am I?" John rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just.... If I hadn't seen your scars, I wouldn't believe you. I just can't imagine you as a woman."

"And that's exactly it," McKay said. "I never could, either, because I'm not."

They looked at one another in silence for a long moment.

"I don't want this to be a problem," John finally said. "So if I start acting weird, or treating you differently...."

"Hello?" McKay said. "You think I'd hesitate to call you on it?"

"There is that," John said with a smile.

"You know there's one thing you could do."

John raised an eyebrow.

"You could call me Rodney."

"Yeah." John's smile grew broader. "I could do that."

-end-

Notes: Thank you to Grace for the beta and also the prompt that made me write the first piece. Also, while almostnever is hardly the fist person to have the idea that John had acne and wasn't hot as a teenager, she's the one I was thinking of when I wrote this, so thank you, Ces. Finally, one major bit of influence for this fic was this post_secret style post card done by thefannishwaldo.

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