This stuff never happens to guys like Rodney McKay. When guys like Rodney McKay find a naked person on the side of the road, that person would be 1) dead; 2) a serial killer; or 3) Kavanagh.

However, the naked man sitting in Rodney's car, covered only by an emergency blanket, is 1) gorgeous; 2) an amnesiac; and 3) not Kavanagh.

"You don't remember anything?"

"Nope," the guy says, running a hand through his hair. "Not a thing."

"Not even your name?"

The guy shakes his head. "How about John? That's a good name, right? You?"

"Rodney."

"John" looks around. "Hey," he says. "There's a black car coming up behind us pretty fast."

Rodney glances in the rear-view mirror. "Yeah, I was afraid of that. There's a gun in the glove box. Shoot a tire out or something."

"Okay," John says, and Rodney's a little surprised at the way John checks the magazine and flicks the safety off before sitting on the window's edge to shoot. He fires, and the black car careens into the ditch.

"Nice," Rodney says. It's the best shooting he's ever seen by a guy in a silver toga who doesn't even know his own name.