[McKay goes to visit Carter in the infirmary, as she recovers from electrical burns]
Dr. McKay:
Hi.
Maj. Carter:
Oh, man, and I was just starting to feel better.
Dr. McKay:
[takes a deep breath, appearing to be relaxing] I always wanted to be a pianist.
Maj. Carter:
[Thinking McKay said "penis"] Excuse me?
Dr. McKay:
A concert pianist --- you know, a guy who plays the piano [he mimes playing the piano] in front of lots of people?
Maj. Carter:
[Sam smiles] Right.
Dr. McKay:
What did you think I said?
Maj. Carter:
Never mind.
Dr. McKay:
I had a not-so-comfortable childhood. My parents hated each other. Blamed me. Music was my salvation. It had this ... perfect order for me.
Maj. Carter:
[smiles, patronizing] That's nice, really.
Dr. McKay:
When I was 12, my teacher told me to quit. A fine clinical player, he said, but no sense of the art whatsoever.
Maj. Carter:
Why are you telling me this?
Dr. McKay:
I'm just ... trying to bond.
Maj. Carter:
Why?
Dr. McKay:
Hospital gowns turn me on. [He smiles] I turned to science because I thought it would be different than music, but it isn't. It's just the same, it's just as much of an art as anything else.
Maj. Carter:
Look, it's not your fault that the EM pulse didn't work.
Dr. McKay:
You're an artist, Major. Maybe the best I've ever seen. I'm just critical because I'm jealous.
Maj. Carter:
I'm touched, really. I wish I had a brilliant plan to draw up for you.
Dr. McKay:
And you're funny, too. Even electrocuted. I mean, I've ... I've got nothing.
Maj. Carter:
You're creeping me out, McKay.
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