"What's that?"
"Good heavens," Dr. Carson Beckett exclaimed as he jumped in his chair and placed his hand to his heart to help calm the racing palpitations. He was a doctor of medicine and knew that the action would have no real effect, but old habits died hard. "Was that completely necessary, Rodney?" he asked as he continued his fascination with the image on his computer screen.
"What, walk up and ask a question? Why am I not surprised that with the voodoo that you practice you would not be experienced in fielding a simple question?"
"You know that you'll be regrettin' all of these things that you say about my profession one day," Carson warned as he clicked to the next picture.
"Ew. What's that?" McKay asked, ignoring Beckett's warning. How would he regret chiding his friend over a profession that was forever being 'practiced'?
"That, my friend, is a Starlithogus Hippurus O'Flynn."
"Starlithogus Hippurus O'Flynn?" Rodney asked as he folded his arms over his chest, his phrasing and attitude overflowing with sarcasm.
"Yes, Rodney. What, are you the only one who is allowed to name something living under the sea in the Pegasus Galaxy?"
"Well, no…"
"Plus, at least the luvly Dr. Mary Kathleen O'Flynn has the decency to try for a name that's meaningful," Carson criticized as he studied the 'Fish O'Flynn' as he'd come to think of it. Ah, she was a luvly…girl.
"Huh…wh…what…"
"Sam?" Carson asked with a smirk as he finally turned to look at his friend.
"Sheppard," Rodney said under his breath. "I'll have you know that I named Sam after someone who means a great deal to me. Someone that I admire. I have no doubt that Samantha Carter…"
Carson interrupted. "Will be thrilled to hear that, of all things, you chose to name a whale after her." The physician paused with the appropriate dramatic effect and then added, "A whale, Rodney."
"Just because it's a whale doesn't make it any less of an honor." Carson smiled and shook his head. "It doesn't," the scientist added uncertainly.
"If you say so," Beckett agreed amiably. He turned back to the computer.
"At least I didn't name it after myself," Rodney groused. "Oh, geez! What is that?"
"They certainly aren't very attractive fish, are they?" the Scottish doctor agreed.
Rodney leaned over Carson's shoulder and closer in to the screen. "Oh, yuck! And did you look at its eyes? It looks…"
"Oh."
"You see it, right?" McKay asked with a frown, almost a grimace. He looked like he was trying not to be sick.
"Aye. It's a rather strange coincidence." Beckett shook his head. "Nasty."
"Mm. Somehow I'm not surprised that a fish in any galaxy might bear an uncanny resemblance to Kavanagh."
"It's just a coincidence, Rodney."
"Slimy…"
"Anyhow, I am reviewing the different fish species that the marine biologists have identified. There are way more than that in the Ancient's database, as you're well aware. I want to become familiar with them so that I can identify the ones I catch when I go fishing."
"Fishing?" McKay asked. "Can you go to the next one please? Looking at this is ruining my appetite."
"Not bloody likely." Rodney looked at Carson askance – from behind.
"You're going to go fishing?"
"Yes."
"You have time to fish. How nice for you," McKay said with an accusatory tone.
"You do as well. Remember? Our Sunday off is coming up."
"Ah, yes. The one day Elizabeth has deemed that no work need be done on this expedition, one of the grandest experiments in human history. As though it's truly possible to find free time when there is never enough time in the day…" Carson spun his chair around and stared angrily at his friend. "What?" the scientist asked.
"Rodney, you waste more time listening to yourself talk than anyone I know. Are you telling me that you couldn't use a break?"
"My complaint about this day…"
"No. I don't want to hear your complaint, or that you could have come up with a better way to execute this time off. I, for one, appreciate Elizabeth's idea and intend to take full advantage of the day. By-going-fishing," Beckett finished, pressing his finger to Rodney's chest for emphasis as he uttered each of the final three words. McKay's expression held confusion, pure and simple. Carson's Canadian friend did not get the point of this day off at all.
"Rodney, have you ever been fishing?"
"Of course I've never been fishing. Do I look like the kind of person who has ever been fishing?"
"As sure as I'm sittin' here, no."
"At least not sober, and not that I recall. Of course, I did some drinking during college, and in Siberia. I really doubt that I would ever allow myself to get so drunk…"
"Rodney?"
"Oh. Anyway, isn't fishing just a lot of sitting around, waiting, getting sun burnt? What percentage of the time that you fish is actually spent catching an actual fish?"
"Have ya never heard that fishing isn't all about catching fish?"
"That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard you say. And I've heard…"
"Once I heard someone say," Beckett interrupted once more, "that fishing is simply a perpetual series of opportunities for hope."
"I'm wasting my time here," McKay said as he stepped back and turned for the door.
"Rodney," Carson called to his annoying cohort.
"Yes," McKay answered as he stopped just short of the exit.
"Why don't you go fishing with me? There is no way I can describe to you how sublime the activity is. You, more than anyone I know, should experience it for yourself. You NEED to experience it, Rodney, to get it. I know you're a genius, but for this you need to feel, not think."
"No," McKay replied as he left the room.
"Think about it!" Beckett yelled to him.
Rodney came back and stood at the door. "You are very persistent, indeed passionate about this fishing thing."
"You cannot possibly know if you'll like it until you try it," Carson assured him.
"Okay, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear you say that. I've never tried lime juice, but I know I won't like it. The same goes for liver, lima beans, licorice and green tea."
"Green tea?" the physician asked. Rodney stared back at him without answering. "And anything in the 'L' food group?"
"My point is…hmph…I forget what my point was. Ask me again tomorrow about the fishing."
"Fine. Why can't you answer today?" Carson asked. "Do you need more time to come up with a good reason to say no?"
"Something like that," Rodney replied. He rapped on the doorjamb like he was playing bongo drums and then headed down the hall.
Carson Beckett shook his head and grinned. "We're on," he said to himself as he went back to memorizing his Atlantis fish.
The End.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The quote "fishing is simply a perpetual series of opportunities for hope" is something I read once when a friend told me I should try fishing. I went to the internet and found this quote, though I don't know who originally said it. I, like Rodney in my story, do not get it. Alas, I suspect I'll have to try it, like Carson suggests, before I'll ever understand fishing. DV