14. Sixth Sense

“So, not that I could admit this to anyone but you, I’m not sure this is all going to work the way it’s supposed to,” Mer sighed and twisted his fingers together. “Sheppard’s a problem child for the military, he’s useless to the science contingent, and everyone thinks I have a crush on him.” He cleared his throat.

Hedy’s dark, amused eyes peered out from the photograph, as silent a conversation partner as ever. The photo had been taken when they were in Antarctica together, Hedy’s brown eyes peeking out from a huge Dr. Who scarf. Hedy was from Quebec, but his Tunisian heritage showed through in his utter inability to handle cold weather. Aside from his eyes, his high cheekbones and his shock of messy black hair, there wasn’t much else to see of him in the photo, but Mer didn’t need the help. He still remembered every inch of Hedy’s body.

“Which I don’t, of course. Have a crush. He’s nothing like you—he’s annoying and difficult and he has no sense of humor. He laughs at Ford’s jokes, so what does that tell you, hm?” Mer thought about it for a second. “Well, there is the sentient hair. You guys must have bought it from the same supplier.” Mer smiled, leaning back and getting comfortable on his bed. It was almost the same as if Hedy were still there, humoring him, bustling around the room (because if there was one thing Hedy did not know how to do, it was relax).

Almost the same, but not.

“Lorne’s short of filing a formal complaint with Weir, I think. But…” Mer rubbed his head, messing up his hair. He hated his hair, or rather, the fact that he was losing it. Hedy had laughed and said it was baby-soft and called him habibi. Mer switched to rubbing his eyes instead. “You always told me to trust my instincts. Of course your instincts got you killed, so why should I listen to you? Moron.” Mer tried to smile again, shutting the door on the memory of Hedy saying “I love you” one final time in the gate room before running out on Mer to fly a suicide mission.

They had pilots. They had several good pilots, including Lorne, but Hedy was the only ATA-active, flight-cleared scientist who could set the bomb.

Mer shut his eyes. “This isn’t about you. Or about us. It’s about Atlantis. No one has sat in the chair since you died, those superstitious bastards. Our ZedPM will only last through the year, and that’s just with dialing Earth once a month and never powering the shield. We need more power, and we need someone who is willing to take the war to the Wraith instead of sitting on defense.”

Mer flapped his hand at his invisible partner. “I know, I know. Sheppard’s not military. O’Neill’s backing me against Sam on that. But if Sheppard blows it, or us, up, she’ll execute him without waiting for O’Neill’s blessing. No, actually, she’d have Cam do it. Hell, Lorne would hold Sheppard down for them.

“And no, before you ask, I have not gotten a straight answer from Weir about him yet. She met the other Sheppard, she knows what he’s made of, and she trusts me. But she’s wary, and hell, I don’t blame her.” Mer looked over at where Hedy should have been standing, staring at Mer with exasperation and a late-night cup of Turkish coffee, but the room was empty. Sometimes, less and less after four years but still too often, Mer forgot that Hedy would not be there.

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