stargateficrec | Permutationality, by Sardonicsmiley (PG-13)

Rec Category: Rodney McKay 
Characters: Rodney McKay, Todd the Wraith, John Sheppard
Pairings: as the author put it: hints of one-sided Todd/Rodney, pre McShep 
Category: h/c 
Warning: preslash (kind of? if you squint?), whumpage, language 
Author on LJ:

sardonicsmiley 
Author's Website: Master list of fic on LJ. (If there is an actual website, I'm a noob and don't know about it) 
Link: Permutationality  

Why This Must Be Read:

I am not a big fan of Wraith themed stories, but I trust

sardonicsmiley and I am really glad I gave this fic a chance. The author paints a vivid picture of 'life' aboard a hive ship, but at no point did I feel like the collective Wraith reputation was threatened by their portrayal here. A fantastic Rodney-centered story, Permutationality (say that five times fast!) does an excellent job of 'show, don't tell' in terms of what Rodney goes through as a character and how he copes with his situation.

This is a great mid-length read (clocks in at around 20,000 words) that constantly offers those little 'oh!' moments I love so much when reading creative authors. There were many times while reading this that I said to myself, 'why haven't I ever read a fic with that plot point in it before?' If you usually hesitate, like I tend to, in starting to read a Wraith-centered story, let this be the fic that changes your mind. It's that good.

Excerpt:
By the end of the first week, Rodney has almost settled into a pattern. Wake up to Todd hovering over him, eat oatmeal, go to the lab, work, back to the cell, sleep. There’s something comforting in the monotony of it. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that Rodney has gone a week without dealing with a crisis of some kind. If it weren’t for the fact that he was being held prisoner by the alien race that was using his race as a food source then it would be almost relaxing. Rodney snorts, amused by the thought, and across the room Todd looks up.   

When Rodney doesn’t offer an explanation Todd turns back to his work, says a moment later, “You used to talk more.”   

Rodney shifts his weight from foot to foot, still without shoes, though he’s almost used to that by now. Shoes stopped being a priority around the time he realized they weren’t going to provide him with caffeine, and there had been an ugly few days where he’d just wanted to cut his own head off. Now that the withdrawal headaches had faded even that didn’t seem too bad. Rodney re-writes another line of code, then pulls back enough to rotate his wrists, to say, “Yes, well, I also used to be able to sleep in a bed, eat real food, and shower whenever I wanted.”   

Todd is watching him and Rodney meets his gaze, wishes again that he could cross his arms. It feels unnatural and wrong, even after a week, to have his hands trapped by his waist. If he were completely honest, it’s hard to talk without them, without being able to use them to shape the words that race around inside his skull. Todd says, “I did not expect to miss it.”  

And Rodney sneers, because somehow he’s not feeling sorry for Todd in their present situation, “I’m sure it must be horrible for you.” Todd says nothing.