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Chapter Text

--1994, Seattle, Washington--

Dr. Daniel Jackson leans against the back wall of the elevator with a weary sigh, pinching at the bridge of his nose and wishing desperately for a nap.

Or at the very least a cup of coffee.

Honestly, whomever came up with that hoary old ivory-tower cliché obviously never witnessed a gaggle of horny professors and grad students downing drinks and partying until the wee hours in a hotel bar.

Not a pretty sight, especially the aftermath. The sound of his neighbors on either side throwing up into their respective toilets at three in the morning wasn't exactly conducive to a sound sleep, either.

He's definitely not a morning person.

Daniel finds conferences annoying anyway, preferring to spend his time in fieldwork and research instead of schmoozing with his peers. If appearances like these weren't practically pro forma he'd never leave his cozy office at the university (which isn't much bigger than a broom closet, but at least it's his).

Even after the selection committee approved one of his papers for presentation he persisted on dragging his feet. It finally took the severe threat of pulling funding for next year's dig at Saqqara by Dr. Jordan to convince him to attend. He hates office politics with a passion, but what with his precarious position in the department and his obligation towards his mentor he had no say in the matter. So here he is.

The car gives a slight jerk as it stops. Daniel straightens, starting to exit before realizing it's not his floor. He steps back in time for a petite young woman to enter, hefting a tall stack of papers almost reaching to her chin.

Wrapping one hand awkwardly around the pile she struggles to push a button with the other, staggering a bit as the elevator starts up again. Papers begin slipping from her grasp and she curses under her breath in a language he's sure isn't English. Which is hardly a surprise considering the hotel's full of linguists for the conference but that particular dialect she's using intrigues him. An older variant of Basque, perhaps?

On impulse he rescues a few stray sheets on the way to the floor. "Need some help?"

"Thanks. Guess I should've made two trips." She smiles at him briefly before dropping her gaze down to the pile. A blush tints her pale cheeks.

"Where are you taking these?"

"Meeting room 2B. My advisor needs them for a round table discussion he's chairing."

"That's on my way. Why don't we share the load?"

"Oh! Thank you, but you don't have to--"

He divests her of almost half the pile, his long arms easily cradling them. "It's okay, I don't mind. I remember having to act as beast of burden for my advisors during conferences, too."

The elevator stops. Daniel waits for the young woman to exit then follows her down the hall. The room is empty save for a single long table with chairs in the middle and a smaller table along one wall offering a water dispenser and glasses.

"Dr. Lyon's not here yet. I guess I'd better get these sorted before he arrives." The young woman sets her portion of the papers on the table and Daniel places his alongside. The blush returns and deepens as she glances at him, a small smile flirting with her lips. "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it."

He returns the smile, quietly amused at her apparent embarrassment. "You're welcome. See you around."

Lingering by the doorway, he watches her quiet, deliberate movements as she neatly sorts out the papers, arranging a set at every seat. Unexpectedly taken by the inner strength and poise which belies her seemingly delicate appearance.

Soothing. Charming, even.

Watching her makes him feel a little better.

But he still needs that cup of coffee.

****************

Becky Grahme shifts in her seat during the chairperson's introductory remarks, fidgeting with her notes as she stares out at the audience.

Everyone's watching her, prepared to judge every word she's labored on for months, crafting her precious theories on possible origins of the Basque language into a term paper. For some reason instead of advising her to publish later after more polishing Dr. Lyon had thought it good enough to impress her peers in this form. Hard to believe the selection committee considered it worthy of submission yet here she is, presenting at her first academic conference.

What on earth does she think she's doing here, anyway? Barely a year into the dual Master's program of Linguistics and Cultural Anthropology at UCLA after accelerated undergrad studies recommended by her mentors at the Phoenix Foundation. Surely the audience would see her as too young, too naive to be a serious scholar.

What if her paper really isn't worthy? What if she's laughed right off the stage? Who would listen to her then?

Her heartbeat suddenly quickens and she's having trouble catching her breath. Great, perfect timing for one of her anxiety attacks. She needs to get a grip again, and soon.

Following the advice of her therapist at Phoenix she gives herself a mental shake, places a discreet hand on her chest and deliberately starts taking deeper breaths, willing her heart to slow at the same time.

Be brave, she can imagine both her uncles saying, as clear as if they were right beside her. You can do this.

It's a pretty intimidating crowd out there. But Mrs. Avery- her redoubtable choir teacher from high school- had the perfect advice: find someone, ignore everyone else, and focus entirely on getting through to that one person. When that's accomplished, the rest will naturally follow into place.

She quickly scans the audience. A tall man stumbling into an aisle seat catches her eye, glint of silver-rimmed glasses followed by a mop of brown hair, sun-streaked blond in places. The helpful, soft-spoken- and undeniably gorgeous- guy from the elevator.

As if aware of her gaze he looks up from the program in his hand, eyes widening with interest as he recognizes her. Nods and gives her a small smile in encouragement.

Yeah, she can do this. Piece of cake.

A smattering of perfunctory applause. It's time.

Becky steps up to the podium, steels herself. Whatever happens, happens. She's ready.

She takes a deep breath and looks straight at the man from the elevator, imagining it's only the two of them in the room.

And begins to speak.

****************

The next morning Daniel's as ready as he can possibly be for his turn, considering yet another sleepless night. The last time he had neighbors who partied this hard had been during his undergrad years. After this conference he needs a vacation, perhaps meet up with Sarah at the dig on the isle of Crete--

The sudden expectant silence after the brief introduction startles him. Feeling a little guilty for woolgathering he turns his attention to the matter at hand.

Everything goes about as well as can be expected. Daniel defends his paper on the cross-pollination of cultures in the ancient world, laying out theories, backing up conclusions with his own translations displayed on the overhead projector. Mostly sticking to the topic, but every so often going off on a tangent or two that seems relevant at the time.

The audience is mostly receptive, even as some are shaking their heads.

It's okay. His theories aren't exactly what one might call mainstream. Nevertheless he has this gut feeling someday they'll be proven right.

The hieroglyphs of Naquada III sing to him as nothing else does. So deceptively simple yet he's certain particular words- or perhaps proper names- have hidden meanings concealing a deeper truth, lost to history. The words Chappa'ai and Jaffa are significant, he can feel it in his bones.

No time for contemplation, however. First he must get through this presentation, finishing his obligation to Dr. Jordan. After that all he needs are a few more months of research and translating inscriptions from the Saqqara dig to complete the capstone for his third doctorate. Not bad for a man his age with two already under his belt.

At the end of his talk it's time for the Q&A. Easy questions at first, which he takes care to answer with equal aplomb.

Then of course his chief academic rival- smarmy Dirk Sanderson from Syracuse- just has to stand up and start laying into him. Calling his theories complete garbage, sneering at the validity of his research, putting down his life's work. Nothing he hasn't already heard a million times but that's never deterred him from seeking the truth before, and it won't now.

He longs to return blow for blow but doing so would merely serve to diminish his already precarious academic reputation. It's all he can do to keep it professional, standing stoically at the podium as the tirade continues.

After one particularly nasty comment the young woman from the elevator- he doesn't remember her name yet she delivered a very intriguing paper on possible origins of the Basque language yesterday- jumps out of her seat, launching into her own impassioned verbal defense of his work. So eloquent Daniel doesn't even have to add anything.

Well. Maybe his theories aren't as far from mainstream as he'd thought. No one else backs her up but it's nice to have at least one supporter out there anyway.

Sanderson only gapes at her, too stunned to muster a defense. Everyone else in the audience seems to find the drama in their midst more entertaining than any of Daniel's theories. At least they aren't laughing him out of the room.

Soon enough she's literally got the jerk on the run, muttering curses and threats under his breath. Since the session's over the others also take their leave. Daniel's alone in the suddenly echoing room with his defender who hasn't moved an inch, surprised by her own outburst.

He stuffs notes and transparencies into his briefcase without looking at them and steps off the stage, approaching her carefully. "Hey, you okay?"

She startles, blinking up at him. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. Though to be honest I'm not sure what just happened."

"You mean, defending the honor of strangers isn't something you normally do?" He grins, to show he's not offended.

A blush tints her cheeks. "I didn't mean to disrupt your lecture like that. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. He started it."

"I know, but I was so appalled by what he was saying, dismissing your hard work in that fashion--" Shaking her head in disgust. "I felt compelled to stand up against him since no one else was. I think he found that more annoying than your lecture. Why do supposedly brilliant scientists have to be so rude and obnoxious?"

"I wouldn't worry about him if I were you. Sanderson's a cretin, always has been. Besides, this was better than the response I usually get from an audience. Guess I should be grateful no one wanted to burn me at the stake for my heretical thoughts this time."

She frowns, a small crease forming between her brows. "Why would anyone do that? Your theories on cultural cross-pollination make perfect sense, and the reasoning's sound enough."

"Unfortunately not everyone sees it that way." He doesn't know why he's not just leaving, seeking solitude to decompress as per usual. But he's oddly drawn to this petite young woman. Something about her feels familiar, like a kindred spirit.

He decides to take a chance. "You still look pretty shaken up. Want to go somewhere for coffee?"

"Away from the hotel, you mean?"

"Why not? This is Seattle, the capital of caffeinated culture," he quips and she smiles. "I'm sure we can find even a halfway decent place not far from here."

"Sure." She hesitates. "Um, mind if I ask you something really dumb?"

Never stop asking questions. Even the dumbest ones can lead to the most amazing discoveries. Dr. Jones taught him that, one of his favorite archaeology professors back in his undergrad days.

"I beg your pardon?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Belatedly he realizes he must've spoken out loud. "Sorry. What did you want to know?"

"What's your name? In the excitement I kinda forgot." Looking a little embarrassed about it.

He blinks in surprise, then offers his hand. "Oh. Right. Daniel Jackson."

"Becky Grahme. Nice to meet you." A spark runs through him as she places her small hand in his.

"You, too." She's cute in an attractive sort of way and her eyes are awfully pretty, blue as the sky on a clear winter's day. Her glasses slip down her nose and he's seized by the impulse to reach over and gently push them back up.

Her clear interest in him is gratifying. Then again, he ought to be realistic. After all, who could possibly be attracted to an awkward, bookish geek like him?

Maybe it's just his imagination.

****************

The coffee shop's cozy and inviting. Rough red brick walls, scarred wooden booths and tables, scuffed linoleum parquet. Tables, chairs and couches with an attractive patina of age. The smells of hazelnut, burnt coffee and baked goods. Soft jazz playing in the background. Reminds Becky of her grandmother's in Mission City, Minnesota.

Daniel's a perfect gentleman. Offering his arm to steady herself at the crosswalks, inclining his head to listen as if everything she says is of the utmost importance, opening doors for her. All the things that make her feel like a lady.

Becky collects her drink and chocolate croissant, follows him to a secluded booth. "You didn't have to pay for me. I mean, I've got money--"

He waves away her objections. "Consider it thanks for standing up for me. Also sort of a 'welcome to your first academic conference' gift."

"How can you tell it's my first?"

"I have my ways." He sips his coffee, a touch of mischief making his eyes twinkle.

Neither of them are fond of small talk, so they soon slip deep into discussion without even realizing it. Touching on a dizzying array of subjects, one idea flowing effortlessly into another, everything around them fading into the background.

At one point she waves a hand wildly to describe an especially interesting concept, knocking his coffee cup over. His hand brushes against hers as they both scramble for napkins to mop up the liquid; the heat from his touch sends an unexpected thrill through her body and she quickly pulls her hand back.

He blinks at her, surprised. "Something I said?"

God, why does she have to blush so easily? "Oh, it wasn't you. Just that sometimes I get so caught up in my thoughts I lose all sense of what's happening around me. My mom always used to say when one's eyes are on the stars it's important to keep one's feet on the ground. Guess I need to remember that in future."

A sympathetic smile. "I know exactly what you mean. Sounds like good advice for both of us."

Despite her physical ineptitude she's enjoying Daniel's company, all of her awkwardness virtually melting away in his presence. Which is unusual to say the least. Except for her uncles she's never felt this comfortable around any other man before.

He's brilliant and gorgeous, with beautiful blue eyes regarding her kindly behind his own glasses and a gentle smile on those full lips. She suddenly possesses an irrational desire to run her fingers through his hair.

Could it be she's found a kindred spirit at last? Is this even what falling in love is like? She has no idea.

Becky's a realist when it comes to her personal life. There's no way he could possibly be interested in her romantically. She's too short, too shy, too much the bookish nerd. Not unattractive yet not exactly a fashion plate, either. Ordinary enough to go without being noticed. Nothing special about her despite what her uncles say.

Besides, there's no use speculating if it's not likely to go anywhere. Right?

Keep your feet on the ground, girl.

At least the conversation's fascinating.

****************

Hours later Daniel scowls down into the glass of scotch and wonders for the hundredth time what he's doing at this godawful party.

He hates everything about it- the oppressive crush of people, the stench of body odors masked by perfumes and cologne, mingled with alcohol. The appallingly loud music, the inane, insipid small talk and gossip making the rounds.

If it wasn't for the pressure by his peers he wouldn't be here. He thinks longingly of the quiet room upstairs, the comfort of books.

Becky's standing against a wall not far away, looking just as uncomfortable. Like him a fellow introvert desperate to be anywhere else but here.

He really enjoyed their conversation in the coffee shop earlier. He wonders if he ought to approach her, rescue her from this ordeal. On the other hand he wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression of his motives if he comes on too strong. Maybe it's better to hold back for now.

Or maybe not. He frowns as a tall dark-haired man approaches her, abrasive and angry as hell over his earlier humiliation. Also clearly drunk by the way she's grimacing at the overpowering stench of alcohol on his breath.

Sanderson. Oh, joy.

He looms over her petite figure, making a grab for her arm. She pulls away from him. Daniel's just close enough to hear her say, "Please, leave me alone. I'm not interested, all right?"

Sanderson glowers at her. "You can't yell at me and get away with it. I don't like being yelled at, especially by little brats like you who don't know their place." She involuntarily steps back as he staggers forward. "But I can be forgiving. How 'bout making it up to me with a dance?"

"No, thank you." Her response is more firm than before. "I don't want to dance, or do anything else with you for that matter. Go away, please."

The jerk refuses to take no for an answer. "Think you're better'n me, huh?" his speech getting more and more slurred. "Just 'cause you sided with Ol' Four-Eyes Jackson. Say," Sanderson leans into her space, using his greater bulk to entrap her. "You're a four-eyes yerself, aren't ya? No wonder you got nobody. Come on, just one li'l dance with me an' I'll forget the whole thing." As he clumsily paws at her it's obvious Sanderson's incapable of standing on his own two feet, let alone dance.

"I said no!" Becky's putting up a brave front, but words alone are no longer sufficient to ensure her escape. People avert their eyes as she frantically glances around for help, studiously ignoring her plight.

Daniel's stomach churns in sympathy. The guy could assault her right here in full public view and no one present would lift a finger in her defense.

By now Sanderson's backed her into a corner. He leans in close to murmur something both deeply suggestive and blatantly offensive judging by how fast her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. He takes advantage of the moment to grab her again and she struggles to free herself, her eyes meeting Daniel's in a silent plead for help.

His jaw tightens. Time to intervene. He's never been brave enough to stand up to anyone before but he's willing to try for Becky's sake.

He steps towards them, keeping his voice low and controlled despite his anger. No use making a bigger scene than they already have. "Leave her alone, Sanderson. Go pick on someone your own size."

The bully turns to him, a nasty grin spreading across his face. "Well, well. If it ain't Ol' Four-Eyes Jackson himself. The guy with the crazy theories 'bout aliens in ancient Egypt. What'cha gonna do if I don't, huh? Sic your pyramid-building aliens on me with their ray guns?"

"Look, let her go already. It's obvious she wants nothing to do with you."

"Make me, wimp," Sanderson sneers. "C'mon, brat. You're coming with me," tugging at Becky's arm hard enough to bruise. She cries out then abruptly twists in his grasp, ramming a knee straight into his groin. He doubles over with a muffled yelp.

Daniel takes the advantage to pull her away, holding her gently. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. A little shaken is all." She glances behind him and blanches. "Oh god, he's getting up--"

He turns and sees Sanderson glowering at them, cursing as he stumbles to his feet. "Dammit Jackson, I'll get you for this--"

"Dirk, you're drunk. I don't want to fight so you'd better leave here and find someplace else to cool off."

Sanderson howls in rage and blindly charges straight towards them. Without hesitation Daniel instinctively steps into the bully's path, blocking his advance with a right uppercut to the chin--

--and he immediately crumples, knocked out cold.

Daniel staggers back, his hand stinging from the blow, a little stunned himself.

Becky gives an urgent tug to his arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here before there's any more trouble. I'd rather not be around when he wakes up."

"Right." He allows her to lead him away. People watch them, immediately start gossiping in their wake.

Great, nothing like the academic rumor mill to make or break reputations. Not that he cares for his own sake but he ought to have a word with Dr. Jordan later, make sure Becky's isn't ruined because of this.

He'll be damned if her future career suffers because of that jerk Sanderson. Or himself for that matter.

****************

Another of Seattle's ubiquitous coffeehouses. A Bach concerto plays softly in the background, the classical music a sharp contrast to the shop's sleek and modern appearance. Outside city lights begin to twinkle in the gathering dusk.

Becky sits opposite him in the booth, staring at him in concern. "Um, are you okay? You seemed a bit surprised after hitting him."

"I'm fine," ruefully casting a glance at his reddened knuckles. "It's just…" He hesitates.

"Just what?"

"I like to think of myself as a pacifist. Hitting another person's completely unlike me, even if he deserved it."

"You mean defending the honor of strangers isn't something you normally do?"

He blinks at her then chuckles, recalling the same question he'd asked her earlier in the day. "Not all the time, no."

"Well, thanks anyway. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome. You dealt him a pretty good blow yourself."

She shrugs. "Best I could think of at the time. Honestly I wouldn't have been there if I hadn't been pressured by my roommates into going."

"I understand completely. I'm not good with social situations either. Dealing with people gets to be pretty exhausting after a while."

"Same here. I need a lot of time alone to recharge. Runs in the family, my dad especially."

"Are you two close?"

"He died in a car crash, along with my mom and older brother. Happened when I was fourteen. All three gone in one fell swoop." A lingering sadness in her voice, one he empathizes with all too well.

"I'm sorry," as gently and earnestly as he knows how. "I know what that's like. I lost my parents as a kid, too. They were both archaeologists, there was an accident while setting up massive stone blocks for a museum exhibit."

"Oh Daniel, I'm so sorry," quietly and with equal sympathy. "Do you have any other family?"

"My grandfather, but he had mental problems and refused to take me in. I went into foster care after that. You?"

"I've got two uncles, my mom's younger brothers. Twins, as it happens. One is a troubleshooter of sorts working for a think-tank in Los Angeles. He was my legal guardian until a few years ago. The other's in the Air Force, just made colonel after serving in Iraq. Both pretty great guys, each in their own way. No pressure to follow in their footsteps either, only encouraging me to follow my dreams no matter what. I'm lucky they're still in my life."

He's curious about the odd little smile on her face but the current topic's making him uncomfortable. "I enjoyed your presentation the other day on origins of the Basque language," changing the subject. "Very clear and informative."

"Thanks. I put a lot of work into it. I've always had a gift for languages and I like learning about other cultures, so linguistic anthropology seemed a good fit. What about you? Have you always wanted to be an archaeologist?"

He nods. "Family tradition I guess, starting with my grandfather. I never thought of doing anything else. Fortunately it's interesting work, and I enjoy it. So much to learn out there."

"Know what you mean. Three doctorates, have to say I'm impressed."

He gives a self-depreciating shrug. "A real slog sometimes but worth it. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I'm glad we met, even if it was by accident."

Such a sweet smile, it lights up her whole face. "Me, too."

There's a spark between them, he's sure of it now. He wonders if the feeling's mutual.

He hopes so.

****************

Becky's keenly aware she and Daniel are the subject of everyone's gossip now, going by the speculative looks of her roommates as they leave for breakfast the next morning. Just peachy.

The notion of facing that crowd makes her stomach churn. All she wants to do is hide in the room all day and pray that everyone will forget about her. Yet for some reason she finds herself dressing to go out, taking the elevator up to Daniel's floor and knocking on his door.

He opens it, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, wearing a blue cotton t-shirt and faded flannel pajama bottoms, floppy hair charmingly askew. Adorable. Not to mention gorgeous.

She can just imagine snuggling up with him to read under the covers, her head against his chest. Each with their own book but occasionally sharing a kiss or two. Until he tosses his away and reaches for her, a hungry look in his eyes--

God, enough fantasizing already. It feels like a flock of butterflies are loose in her stomach. Falling in love is terrifying, no doubt about it.

He blinks at her, brows furrowed. "Becky? What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, just reading. Something I can help you with?"

"After what happened yesterday, I'm kinda afraid to face the music downstairs. I really don't want to run into Sanderson again if I can help it. So I was wondering…" She swallows.

His eyebrows lift. "Yes...?"

God, this is awkward. Best just to get it all out. Be brave, right?

"Yeah, um. Thing is, I need to get away for a while so I thought I'd do some sightseeing, though not the usual tourist spots. Care to join me?"

Daniel doesn't say anything, only stares at her. She's suddenly certain she crossed a line somewhere.

Honestly, what on earth possessed her to interfere with his private time this way? He's a fellow introvert after all, she should know better.

Is this why she's lousy at relationships? No sense of timing? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

She sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll see you later-"

"Hey. It's okay." He reaches out before she can fully turn away, gently clasping her arm. "You caught me by surprise, that's all. What places did you have in mind?"

"Oh, you know. Museums. Bookstores. That sort of thing. Playing hooky, basically."

He considers for a moment then smiles, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Sounds like fun. Wait here, I'll go get dressed."

****************

Much later Becky and Daniel sit side by side in the taxi back to the hotel, lapsing into a comfortable sort of silence.

Turns out she had the right idea. They've spent a long and very enjoyable day together, exploring intriguing museums and bookstores around the city, sharing lunch and dinner at terrific restaurants, engaging in wide and stimulating conversations. Nothing blooming this early in the season so neither of them have had to worry about seasonal allergies.

Daniel's been wonderful company the whole time. Kind and attentive, humorous and insightful. A true gentleman. There's a difference of seven years between them- plus a few academic degrees- yet he treats her as an intellectual equal. Such a joy to match wits with him.

A perfect day. So why are her emotions in such a turmoil every time he glances in her direction?

The taxi pulls up to the hotel and they each pay their half of the fare. Daniel climbs out of his side and comes around to hers, offering his hand to help her out. There's a spark between them as she places her small hand in his larger one. He holds onto her the entire way through the lobby, his long, capable fingers wrapped around hers.

They stop at the elevators and she breathes a silent sigh of relief when he finally lets go. His touch does strange things to her, making it hard to breathe. The warmth of his smile every time their eyes meet sends the flock of butterflies from earlier fluttering in her stomach.

The car's empty at first but as others enter on the conference level floors they're gradually pushed to the rear, until Becky's squeezed right up against Daniel. "Sorry about that," she whispers.

"I don't mind," he replies just as softly, his hand light on her shoulder. A shiver runs through her at the solidity and warmth of his tall body against hers.

She's never had a lover before. No man has ever paid such close attention to her as Daniel has this weekend. She wonders if he's expecting something more intimate tonight, in return for his companionship during the day.

Would it really be the end of the world if they did become lovers, even for one night? She has no idea.

Finally the elevator doors open and they walk down the hallway to her room. Her hands fumble a bit as she digs out her key. "Thanks for going out with me today," offering him a tentative smile. "It was fun."

"You're welcome. I haven't played hooky in a long time. Have to admit I enjoyed myself."

"Me, too."

"I'm glad," his eyes intently searching her face. She swallows and drops her gaze first.

Daniel continues to study her, a bittersweet smile on his lips. Then he reaches out, tilting her chin up and leaning down to cover her mouth with his.

The kiss is tender, gentle, sweet. Soft pressure, demanding nothing more.

He pulls away, his hand carefully cupping one side of her face, then brushes her other cheek with his lips. "Good night, Becky. Sweet dreams."

"You too," she barely has time to whisper before he's gone.

Her mind reeling, she unlocks the door and closes it behind her. Getting ready for bed in a daze, still feeling the faint tingle of Daniel's hand on her face, the touch of his lips against hers.

Sensations that linger in her memory long after sleep comes, living on in her dreams.

****************

Daniel scrambles to retrieve clothes and toiletries scattered around the hotel room (how on earth did one of his shirts wind up in the bathtub, anyway?) and stuff them in his trusty battered suitcase and carry-on. Scoops books and papers into his briefcase.

Packing time, twenty minutes. Not bad, even if pretty untidy. He probably mixed clean clothes with dirty but no matter, everything will get sorted once he's back home. Eventually.

His hand closes on a small square white box and he smiles at the memory. He really enjoyed his time with Becky the other day, so much he wanted her to have something unique as a token of their new friendship. Finding the perfect item in a jewelry display he bought it on impulse while her attention was elsewhere.

He doesn't believe in love at first sight but there's no denying the deep connection he feels with her, even if they met only a couple days ago in the elevator. Physical attraction, even. For a moment last night in front of her door he seriously considered giving in to it.

But the moment soon passed.

He's glad. Now he can see her as a friend instead of a potential lover, which makes more sense given his lousy luck with relationships.

Daniel's almost out the door before realizing he'd left the room's key card on the dresser. He shakes his head ruefully as he retrieves it.

Keep your feet on the ground, Danny.

Pretty sensible advice, considering his life so far. He'll have to remember it in the future.

****************

Becky frowns up at the departure board, anxiously shifting the strap of her carry-on from one shoulder to another.

The conference went well, all things considered. But now she's ready to go home. Back to her own bed, to Uncle Mac. To dear sunny, smoggy Los Angeles.

The airport's busy at this time of the day, sound bouncing off the wide glass windows from the rumble and whine of mighty jets to the constant chatter of PA announcements and TVs playing sports or news in the bars and restaurants. Becky's intrigued by how the constant ebb and flow of activity perfectly encapsulates all the hustle and bustle of modern life; could be a good topic for the next paper in her Cultural Anthropology class. 

A tap on her shoulder makes her jump. Daniel smiles down at her, the picture of academic casual: tweed jacket and jeans, slightly wrinkled blue button-down shirt, battered leather carry-on. "Sorry about that. Waiting for your flight?"

"Yeah. You too?"

"Uh-huh. Join me for coffee?"

"Sure."

With hot beverages in hand from the tiny coffee kiosk they find a secluded corner to relax. "I'm glad I caught you before you left," Daniel says. "I'd like to keep in touch, and only today I realized--"

"--We have no idea how to contact each other?" Becky chuckles. "Weird, isn't it? I mean, I feel I've known you all my life--"

"--And we only met a couple days ago. I know what you mean."

Finishing each other's sentences, she thinks with a smile as they exchange phone numbers and email addresses. Nice to meet someone on the same wavelength.

"There's another reason I'm glad to see you. I, well..." He flushes and reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a small square white box. "Think of it as a friendship gift."

She opens it to find a pendant on a chain, a gold hummingbird rendered in Northwest Native American design amid silver swirls. Gorgeous.

"Oh, Daniel. It's beautiful. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Among the coastal tribes the hummingbird's a gentle creature, known for its fortitude and ability to overcome great obstacles, representing peace, healing and joy. Seemed perfect for you."

"I'm glad to see you too, because I also got you something the other day when your back was turned. Kind of a thank-you present, for making my first conference memorable. Though in a good way." She hands him a larger package wrapped in tissue paper.

He unwraps it to find a notebook with blank pages of homemade paper, covered in dark green leather with a circular native bird design tooled on the front. His eyes widen in astonishment. "How...how did you know I keep a journal?"

Now it's her turn to flush. "You mentioned it in passing once, I pay attention to things like that. Thought you could use it for fieldwork or whatever."

He takes her hand, squeezes it. "I'll make good use of it," he promises. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

A comfortable sort of silence falls between them, where nothing needs to be said yet everything's understood nonetheless. Just as well they didn't sleep together.

What they have now feels right, kindred spirits and friends without the undue pressure of romance.

Finally boarding calls are issued. First for his flight, then hers.

Daniel sighs and stands up, hefting the strap of his carry-on onto his shoulder. "I'd better go."

"I hope it's au revoir and not goodbye."

"Until we meet again. I hope so, too." A wistful smile as he gently caresses her cheek. "Take care, Becky. Have a safe flight."

"You too, Daniel."

He heads off down the concourse to his gate, turning to give her a jaunty wave before blending into the crowd.

She waves back, blinking through the tears in her eyes.

****************

It isn't until the plane's at cruising altitude that Becky reopens the little white box. She gazes at the necklace for a while before fastening it around her neck.

Fingering the pendant she smiles, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. Such a thoughtful man, she's glad they ran into each other on the elevator. Good friendships are hard to come by as Uncle Mac's fond of saying; hopefully this one will last a long time.

She leans her chair back, closes her eyes.

And dreams of a handsome, blue-eyed archaeologist.

****************

Daniel stares out the narrow oval window, marveling at the view of the Rocky Mountains far below. He wants to jot down a few observations in his journal but he'd finished the latest volume the night before.

Then he remembers Becky's last-minute gift. How thoughtful of her.

He pulls the new journal from his carry-on. Smooths his hand over the soft, tanned leather, long fingers tracing the embossed design on the front cover.

Raven. A trickster figure whose antics ultimately help humanity, with a quick wit and sense of humor. Symbolizing curiosity, creativity, prestige and knowledge.

One of his most favorite mythological creatures. How did she know?

Kindred spirits, indeed. Nice to know he's not alone.

With a fond smile he extracts a pen from his carry-on, flips down the tray table. Opens the pristine journal, ready to be filled with hopes and dreams.

And begins to write.

Chapter Text

--Two years later--

Night falls outside the airplane window, the sky darkening from midnight blue to black save for a faint violet line, last residual of dusk on the West Coast. The occasional sprawl of electric lights in the darkness below mirror the constellations above.

Becky shifts in her seat, burrowing even more into the airline-issue blanket. Tries hard to imagine the endless drone of the engines as the roar of the ocean, inducement to sleep.

It's not working.

She hates flying. Hates being cold. Hates the turbulence and narrow seats and the random noises from other passengers.

Most of all she hates the reason why they're taking such a late flight in the first place.

She sits up straight, scans the darkened cabin before settling on the lanky figure in the seat next to her. MacGyver slouches with eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest, long legs sprawled out into the aisle.

"Unc? You asleep?"

Velvet brown eyes open, blinking slowly at her. "I was until now," comes the drowsy reply. "In the middle of a real nice dream, too."

She looks down, plucking at the navy blue fleece. "Sorry."

"Hey, I'm kidding." Long fingers gently touch her arm. "I wasn't sleeping, Beck. Just thinking, is all."

"What about?"

"Memories, you could say. The past."

"Anything in particular?"

He shifts in his seat. "Try to get some sleep, okay? Still a while before we land."

"Sure." So he's not in the mood for talking.

After Aunt Sara's frantic phone call yesterday, she can make a fairly educated guess as to why.

****************

They land in Colorado Springs, collect their luggage. The ride to the house is conducted in silence except for Mac's terse directions to the driver. Which is fine with Becky as she's in no mood for idle chit-chat herself.

Completely wiped out, and the day's not over yet.

The taxi drops them off in front of the O'Neill residence. A lamp shines through the living room window and the porch light is on. Jack's telescope perches on a widow's walk, outlined in silver moonlight.

The door opens and her aunt stares at them as if in disbelief. "Mac. Becky. You're really here."

"Sorry we're late but this was the only flight we could catch out of LAX," Mac explains. "Wanna let us in? It's cold out here and our bags are gettin' kinda heavy."

"Of course," stepping aside so they can enter. "Forgive me. These days I don't know whether I'm coming or going."   

"No problem," setting down his duffel to envelop her in a hug. "How're you doing, Sara?"

She shrugs, her eyes downcast. Blinks away tears. "Been better. You guys want tea or something before turning in?"

"Sure." They follow her into the kitchen, sitting at the table by a bay window facing the backyard deck.

Aunt Sara's one of the most amazing women Becky has ever known, aside from her own mom and Nikki Carpenter. Beautiful, bright and quick-witted, the perfect compliment to the likes of Uncle Jack. Strong and dependable, keeping home and family together even as he risked his life for his country multiple times over. Becky really admires her for that.

But now- she's different. A mere shadow of her formerly vivacious self. Every move slow and deliberate as she collects mugs from a cupboard, teabags from a box. As if grief's drained all her energy away, leaving an empty shell.

An outward change as well. Barefoot, worn flannel shirt and sweatpants. Eyes red-rimmed, shoulders slumped. Blonde hair drooping in a lank ponytail. Skin pale without makeup. So unlike the care she usually takes with her appearance.

She catches them noticing and flushes. "Sorry. Lately I feel it's not worth the time to get dressed. Could barely rouse myself today, even though I knew you were coming--"

On impulse Becky reaches over to give her a hug. "It's okay," she says, throat tightening. "I'm so sorry about Charlie. I wish I could do something to help."

It takes a moment for Sara to respond but the embrace is unexpectedly fierce in return. "I know, sweetheart. Thank you."

"Same goes for me," Mac adds softly. "Anything you guys need. Just say the word."

A wan smile. "Thanks. It's enough you're both here, right now."

The tea's ready and for a while all the three of them can do is sip and stare out into the night, each lost in thought.

Finally Mac breaks the silence. "How did it happen?"

Sara's voice trembles with suppressed grief, and a touch of rage. "Jack keeps a gun here, in the house. Usually it's locked up tight, but for some reason he forgot to store it after cleaning earlier in the day. And- well, you know how Charlie's such a curious kid, especially when it comes to Jack's stuff. Always poking around in his office, no matter how many times I tell him not to--" She swallows, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Mac reaches for her hand, gives it a comforting squeeze. Becky gets her a tissue from the box on the table. She nods in gratitude and they patiently wait until she can regain her composure.

"Jack and I were out on the deck getting the grill ready for dinner when we heard the crack of the gun. At first he thought it a neighbor's car backfiring. But I had a gut feeling something had happened to Charlie.

"We found him in the office. Unconscious, bleeding onto the rug, the gun still smoking. His mouth open in a little 'o', as if in surprise. So still. So quiet.

"Jack was too impatient to wait for the ambulance, just rolled him up in a blanket. I held him in my arms the entire way. The doctors did all they could, but it wasn't enough..." Her voice trails off into a long silence.

Mac looks away, swiping at his face. Becky clears her throat, takes a sip of lukewarm tea, the aftertaste as bitter as tears for her poor, lost cousin.

Parents should never have to bury their own children.

Finally Mac sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "Okay. So where's my brother now?"

"Not here," Sara says curtly. "Maybe off hiking in the woods, maybe the cabin in Minnesota, who the hell knows? Soon as we got back he packed his overnight bag and took off without even one word. Left me all alone, to make the phone calls and funeral arrangements and everything. I'm not even sure he'll be here for the funeral tomorrow."

"No way. He wouldn't do that."

She snorts. "Oh, wouldn't he? Remember after he came back from Iraq last year? Closed up so tight, refused to see a therapist. Even now I'm sure he's hiding things from me. His own wife, for god's sake!" Becky winces at the rising anger in her tone.

"C'mon Sara, you know he does a lot of classified work." Mac's voice is calm, reasonable. "No way he can talk about it with anyone who doesn't have security clearance. I don't even know what he did over there. Neither of us can hold that against him. Besides, Jack's crazy about you, always has been. You know that."

A scowl crosses over her face like she wants to argue the point. Then her shoulders slump in defeat, anger draining out of her as quickly as it came. "I do. And I still love him. Very much. But I can't stop worrying either. I'm afraid he'll shut me out completely before too long."

"Nope, not gonna happen. I know my brother. I'll have a talk with him tomorrow, get his head straight. He'll come around, bet on it." Ever the optimist, her Uncle Mac.

Sara remains unconvinced. "We'll see. I'm not sure you know your brother as well as you think you do anymore. Jack hasn't been the same since Iraq. Still has trouble sleeping, though he won't admit it."

Becky can't help but grimace. She understands nightmares, having dealt with Mac's for years along with her own. The life of a troubleshooter and Phoenix Foundation agent is not an easy one.

Mac looks at her in concern. "You okay, Beck?"

"Feel a little woozy. Think I need to lie down."

Sara's instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. You've both had a long day, I didn't mean to keep you up this late. Becky, why don't I get you settled in the guest room? Mac, you'll be fine sleeping on the couch as usual?"

He nods agreement as he stands and stretches. "No problem. I'll keep an eye out for Jack. Yours is just as comfy as the one back home, if I recall correctly."

"Dearest uncle, one of these days you and I will have to have a long talk about your unhealthy obsession with sofas," Becky quips in a mock-solemn voice.

He grins, kisses her forehead. "Only if I want to be cured. Night, kiddo."

"Night, Unc."

Sara smiles wistfully at their light banter. No doubt wondering if things would've been different, with a first-born daughter instead of a son.

Or a niece, staying with them after losing her own family.

"Can I ask you something?" Becky asks her as they head up the stairs.

"Sure."

"When I chose not to stay with you and Uncle Jack, after the car crash- you were okay with that, right? Didn't bother you any?"

Sara looks puzzled. "Of course not. You're entitled to make your own choices. It was the right one at the time, for both you and Mac. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious, that's all. Good night, Aunt Sara. See you in the morning," giving her a hug. She needs all the love she can get, right now.

"Good night, Becky. Sleep well."

****************

MacGyver's finding it hard to fall asleep.

Charlie's a pretty good kid. Brave, curious, energetic, loving, and kind. Much like his dad in many ways.

Now his nephew's in the basement of a funeral parlor. A small, silent body under a white sheet, being prepared for burial in the afternoon.

He can't imagine the anguish his brother and sister-in-law must be going through right now. Too awful to contemplate. Yet ever since the phone call he keeps flashing on another set of memories entirely, from long ago.

Harry taking Jack on a camping trip, Allison helping Mom with the coffee shop. Perfect opportunity to pick the lock on the desk drawer where their grandfather kept his old service revolver. Showing off his shooting skills with Chuck, Neil and the rest of the gang, firing at tin cans and bottles. Horsing around without a care in the world.

The abrupt crack of the gun going off. Jesse's shriek of pain. A splash of blood, vivid red against his jacket.

Neil and the others fleeing, leaving Mac alone to save his injured friend the only way he could. And failing utterly.

The county coroner later ruled Jesse's death an accident, chalked up to youthful high spirits and carelessness. No adult- not even the grieving parents- openly blamed Mac for what had happened.

Yet he knew better.

Jesse's blood was on his hands, since he provided the means. Good as killed his best friend in the world using Harry's gun which was created for one sole purpose: taking life.

Allison understood Mac's subsequent passionate hatred and lifelong support for gun control, in psychologist mode deeming it a classic case of transference, shifting negative emotions away from a subject onto an object.

Jack just thought he was crazy.

Still does, really.

****************

It's past midnight when Mac hears the truck pull into the driveway outside, the creak and thud of metal.

A minute later the front door opens and his twin brother steps inside, dropping his leather travel bag with a muffled thump. Broad shoulders slump with weariness and he swipes a hand across his face, the beginnings of a ragged beard incongruous with the neat brown military haircut.

No doubt Jack hasn't slept in days. Both of them tend not to when deep in brooding mode.

He rubs his eyes, blinking a few times in the light from the lamp on the hall table. Utters a long, heavy sigh, the sound bordering on total exhaustion. Finally scans the room, stopping on Mac.

"Hey," he grunts.

"Hey."

"You need a haircut. Starting to look like a hippie."

"Nice to see you too."

"Just got here?"

Mac nods. "Couple hours ago."

"Becky with you?"

"Upstairs. Guest room." Easy to keep things terse when both of them are tired.

"Better get some shut-eye yourself."

"Will do."

Jack gives a short nod, hefts the bag and trudges upstairs.

Mac frowns, thinking of the careworn lines on his face, the pallor, the subdued demeanor. Nothing like his cheerful, snarky brother. Not at all.

It's worrisome.

****************

Ordinarily Becky loves the rain, finding it comforting. Not today.

She huddles next to Mac under a black umbrella, shivering in the chill wind of late September. A lingering drizzle in the air, autumn just around the corner.

Somber weather for a somber mood.

Rather more people than expected gathering around the open grave this afternoon. Herself and Mac, Sara and Jack. Friends and neighbors. Jack's co-workers from the air base, attired like him in full dress blues. Charlie's teacher and several of his classmates with their parents. Sara's own father Mike Maxwell, flying out from Chicago for the day, the only one in the family weeping openly.

In contrast his daughter clenches her jaw, trying hard not to break down. Mac's long since perfected an air of Midwestern stoicism and detachment in front of others, though to a niece's experienced eye tension lurks about the eyes and corners of his mouth. Jack's got his military training to fall back on, along with his natural emotional reticence.

Becky finds she can't cry either, though her stomach churns a bit.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

The small white casket's carefully lowered into the ground and covered with dirt as the minister drones on. Words of hollow comfort, more for the living than the dead. Unrealistic, meaningless platitudes.

She hates funerals. Reminds her of another, seven years ago. Three bodies in three caskets.

The same empty phrases. The same inexplicable, undeniable sense of loss.

****************

The reception's held at the house. Fewer people attending than during the service, but far too crowded for Becky's taste even so. She's in desperate need of peace and quiet.

She stands on tiptoe, whispering in Mac's ear, "I need some air." He nods in understanding.

Upstairs is blessedly silent.

On her way to the guest room she notices the door to her cousin's bedroom slightly ajar. Perhaps one of the attendees from the wake had gone looking for the bathroom, decided to take a peek out of simple curiosity.

She frowns. Time to rout the interloper, send him or her packing. Though politely considering the occasion.

Charlie's room is an eight-year-old boy's domain through and through, a mix of sports and astronomy. Model airplanes, sports trophies and action figures lined up neatly on the dresser and bookcases. Glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the ceiling. Drawings in bright crayon colors taped to the walls.

Jack sits on the edge of the twin-size bed, blue uniform coat draped on the comforter, tie loosened. Same ruggedly handsome features and velvet brown eyes as his brother, yet vastly different in temperament and outlook.

He stares into space, clutching a kid-sized baseball glove in large, calloused hands. So lost and forlorn.

Her heart goes out to him. She'd like to keep him company yet intruding on his privacy seems so wrong at this moment. Probably better to wait for a more appropriate time.

Becky takes a step backwards, back colliding with the edge of the open door. She hisses softly at the pain.

A sharp glance in her direction. She swallows, anticipating a scathing rebuke.

Instead Jack holds out his hand. "C'mere."

She hesitates.

He sighs. "I won't bite, Beck. Promise."

The mattress sags slightly under their combined weight. She closes her eyes as he pulls her against him, feeling the warmth of his body through the crisp white shirt, the gentle press of lips on the top of her head. She breathes in the bracing scent of aftershave tickling her nose, hears the steady, reassuring thump of his pulse.

They draw comfort from one another, nothing more needing to be said.

****************

Jack disappears immediately after the last of the mourners leave, once again without a word to anyone.

Mac frowns in disapproval. While his brother's always been closed-mouthed (though less reserved in comparison to himself, if he's being honest) the act's starting to annoy him.

Sara stretches out on the couch, uttering a faint sigh. "Good lord, I'm beat."

Becky hands her two aspirin and a glass of water. "I'm gonna pop one of the neighbors' casseroles in the oven if anyone wants to eat. Is that okay?"

"Sounds good. Thanks for all your help today, I couldn't have done it without you."

Becky flushes, ducks her head. "Oh, um. My pleasure."

Mac can't help a faint smile. Thoughtful yet modest as always. He affectionately ruffles her hair, murmuring, "I'm gonna go look for Jack." She nods and heads back to the kitchen.

After a cursory search outside and on the first floor, he heads upstairs. The trapdoor to the attic is open, allowing access to the roof.

He swallows as he reaches the top of the ladder. How his brother's learned to thrive in high places while he breaks out in a cold sweat is a mystery for the ages.

Jack slouches in the gathering darkness on the widow's walk, nursing a beer. Glares at Mac but otherwise gives no acknowledgment of his presence.

He's been far too silent all day, grief and anger simmering under his stoic expression. Surely something's gotta give, and soon.

"Isn't it a bit overcast to be stargazing?" Mac quips.

No answer.

"C'mon, you gonna stay up here all night or what? Becky's heating up tuna hot dish. You wouldn't want to disappoint our niece by not showing up for dinner, now would you?"

"Leave me alone," Jack growls. "I'm fine."

"Doesn't look like it to me." Mac risks one glance over the edge, a view he instantly regrets. "God. Shouldn't you be wearing a parachute or something? Or at the very least rig up some nets."

Jack smirks at his discomfort. "Still can't handle heights, huh?" The bottle empty, he reaches for another. "Want one?"

Mac grimaces. "You know I don't touch the stuff anymore. Haven't you had enough yet?"

"Nope."

"There's no absolution at the bottom. I should know."

Jack scowls. "Spare me unpleasant childhood memories, why don't ya? Bad enough I got back from camping with Harry to find you sneaking liquor behind Mom's back, for crying out loud."

"That's exactly what I mean. After Jesse got shot I was an absolute wreck. For a long time the only way I could stop feeling guilty long enough to sleep was to get drunk. Then one day I woke up and realized I didn't like who I was under the influence. Better to stay sober and live with the guilt than feel that out of control ever again."

"Oh come off it, Mac. It was an accident, alright? You were kids, didn't know any better. Jesse dying wasn't your fault."

"But it was, darn it!" Mac snaps. "I was the one who stole Harry's revolver to show it off to Chuck and the others. I was the one who convinced them horsing around with it would be cool. Jesse's death is on me, Jack. Nothing can change that."

"That's why you hate guns so much, huh?"

"Absolutely," Mac says, eyes blazing. "They're made for only two purposes- harm lives or take them. Things happen with a gun. People die. It's not right."

"You've been trying to convince others of that since high school. How's it working out for you? Why not try to walk on water, since you're attempting miracles?" A trace of Jack's usual sarcasm in his voice, which Mac secretly takes as a good sign.

"Oh knock it off, already. You're one to talk. Isn't it bad enough you can kill a man ten different ways with your bare hands as it is? Why the heck would you even want to keep a gun at home anyway? You know the damage they do."

His brother scowls. "Stop it. I know what else you're gonna say, so stop it right there. How dare you come here with that holier-than-thou pacifist crap, telling me how dangerous guns are?"

Mac slumps in his seat. "Jack, I--"

"Dammit, I know it's my fault, okay? I never taught Charlie about my gun. He didn’t know how it worked, that he had to be careful with it. My fault I got too distracted that day after cleaning it. I forgot to lock it up and put the box away and now I'm paying for my boneheaded carelessness. Sara's right to blame me." Tears sparkle in his brother's eyes, something rarely seen even when they were kids.

"But she doesn't blame you. Hasn't said anything to me, at least."

"I know she does. Hell, I blame myself. What good am I to anyone, when I can't even keep my head on straight? Can't trust myself anymore. Might as well resign my commission while I'm at it."

"No way. The Air Force is your life, always has been. Besides, what would you do if you resigned?"

"Dunno. Teach astronomy, maybe. Instruct cadets at the Academy. Go work for Boeing or some other aerospace company. Any other job where I don't have to even look at a gun if I don't want to."

Mac's secretly elated, yet he knows his brother all too well. They both thrive on danger and excitement. Clocking in on a regular boring office job, dealing with bureaucracy and endless paperwork behind a desk- it's not for them.

He remembers the endless hours their mother spent working at the coffee shop in Mission City. The struggle to make ends meet while raising three kids without a husband's support. How she scrimped and saved, relying on the money Harry sent from Alaska to see them through the lean times. Always so tired, no chance to have anything remotely resembling fun. Allison had wound up doing most of the work in raising her rambunctious younger twin brothers.

Despite everything Ellen Jackson-O'Neill-MacGyver firmly believed in a strong work ethic right up to the day she was diagnosed with stage-four cancer, and even after that. Allison took a sabbatical those last few months to help get Mom's affairs in order. Mac still regrets not arriving home from his mission in time to be at her bedside though to be fair Jack hadn't either; fortunately their older sister never once held that against them.

"You're not fooling me. You know how you get when you're bored, you'd hate retirement. You'd be climbing the walls within a week, and so would Sara."

"Yeah, about that." Jack takes a swig of beer. "Don't think we'll be staying together much longer."

"That's nuts. I'm the one who's allergic to romance in the family, just ask Becky. You and Sara have a great thing going here. Why ruin it now?"

"We were fighting even before the accident. Little things, here and there, but all of it circling around bigger issues. Not much else we have in common, really."

"Nonsense. She still loves you. And you love her, I know you do. You can make it work, try for another kid--"

Jack cuts him off with an angry wave of his hand. "We can't. She had trouble during the pregnancy, and after. Charlie was our only chance."

Mac's eyes widen, his heart wrenching in sympathy. "Oh, god. I...I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Jack shrugs, looks down at his sneakers. "Yeah, well. As for making it work- too much effort for both of us, ya know? Better we should divorce now before it gets really ugly."

"Aw c'mon, listen to yourself. You can't mean that."

"I do. I'll only hurt her again, I know I will. She deserves better." Mac recognizes the stubborn set to his chin, knows from experience very little can change his brother's mind once he's set on a course of action. A common family trait.

He sighs. "I get it, believe me. But hear me out first before you do anything drastic. You're still in mourning. Resigning your commission, getting a divorce- those are pretty big decisions to make. Give it some time, maybe you'll feel differently after a while."

Jack nods. "Fair enough, I guess. Hope you're right."

"So do I." They sit quietly in the evening dusk, staring out into space.

"Sky's clearing up finally. Lots of stars gonna be visible tonight," Jack remarks after a while. "Might need to bring Becky up here after dinner and check them out."

"Just don't keep her up too late, okay? Got a plane to catch in the morning."

"That's the only time you've had to act parental, isn't it? Not my fault she likes to read past her bedtime."

"No, that was our sister's influence." Very dry.

"Yeah." Raising his beer in a toast. "To absent family."

"Skål." Mac picks up one of the empty bottles, clinks it against Jack's.

To absent family indeed.

John O'Neill, their biological father. James MacGyver, their stepfather. Grandma Celia.

Ellen, their strong-willed mother.

Their sister Allison, brother-in-law Michael, and nephew Chris. Grandpa Harry.

And now Charlie.

So many lost, over the years. Until all that's left is the four of them.

Or three, if Mac's gut feeling about his brother and sister-in-law turns out to be right after all.

"Dinner should be ready by now," changing the subject. "C'mon down and eat with us while it's hot, because trust me, you really don't want to face Becky's wrath if everything's cold."

Jack actually chuckles. "Yeah, sure, ya betcha."

****************

"Thanks so much for coming," Sara says the next morning, cuddling Becky close. "You don't know how much I've appreciated your help. I just wish you could've had more time to stay."

"So do I."

"Allison's little girl, all grown up. She'd be so proud of you."

Becky swallows the lump forming in her throat. "I know. Love you, Aunt Sara. Take care."

"You too, sweetheart."

Mac and Jack share a good long look, as much as they can. To remember until the next time. Finally they come together for a brotherly hug, slapping each other on the back.

"Good to see you, Jack. Try to stay out of trouble, huh?"

"Right back atcha. Keep our princess safe, okay?"

"You bet," Mac replies, voice choked with sudden emotion.

Jack turns to Becky, opening his arms wide. "Speaking of whom, where's that hug?"

She chuckles. "Right here, Uncle Colonel."

He wraps her in his embrace, kissing the top of her head. "Thanks for coming, kiddo. Take good care of my brother for me, willya?"

She holds him tight. "Of course I will. Love you."

He pulls away, gently caresses her cheek. "Love you too, Beck. Be brave."

"I'll do my best."

"You be brave as well, okay?" Mac says in Sara's ear. "You're stronger than you know. Jack will come around, you'll see."

"I hope so, though I don't share your optimism. Guess I'll just have to take life as it happens, right?"

He can only agree, kissing her cheek.

Becky spares one last glance in the rear window as the taxi pulls away. Jack and Sara are both waving, standing side by side without touching. Not a good omen for the future.

Hopefully they'll find a way forward. Or at least inflict as little damage as possible to each other if things fall apart.

Yet who knows? Perhaps they will both gain a measure of peace and healing, someday. Together or separately.

"Think they'll be all right?" she asks Mac.

He sighs. "I dunno, Beck. I hope so."

"Me, too."

Charlie's gone, but that won't ever erase memories of her cousin. Nor their love for each other as family.

Time to go home, back to their lives in Los Angeles. To her studies and his missions for Phoenix.

To whatever the future may bring.

Chapter Text

Daniel wakes with a jolt, the dream still fresh in his mind. He sits up, yawns and stretches before reaching for his glasses. Lazily scratches at his chest under the shirt, squinting in the bright sunlight pouring into the room.

He ruefully rubs his cheek where one edge of a book made a slight impression overnight. Must've fallen asleep while working again, judging by the contents of his latest research strewn across the kitchen table. There's a perfectly good bed in this apartment, with pillows and clean sheets and everything. So why does he keep forgetting to make use of it?

A door opens and Sarah stumbles into the living room, wearing shorts and a faded university t-shirt. Half-asleep and grumpy about it as usual.

Because it's not his apartment, he reminds himself. It's hers. They've been living together for a year now, more economical on their meager salary as academics.

He offers a tentative smile. "Morning."

She runs a hand through rumpled strawberry-blonde hair and frowns at him. "You didn't come to bed last night."

"Sorry. I got distracted."

She sighs. "Whatever. Get the coffee on, okay?"

"Sure," as she heads to the bathroom.

Daniel pads in the opposite direction towards the kitchen, smiling as a fragment tickles his memory.

Eyes a shade lighter than his own smile up at him, glasses glinting in the light of two moons. A tinkling laugh echoes through his mind. Strands of auburn hair gently lift and sway on a warm evening breeze. Soft full lips part in anticipation as his arms tighten around her, awaiting his kiss...

He frowns, belatedly realizing the young woman in the dream wasn't Sarah.

Neither was the one from the night before, come to think of it:

Delicate and tawny-skinned, long curly black hair shining in the torchlight. Wide-set dark eyes taking on an enthusiastic glow as she points out pictures and hieroglyphs painted on a rough stone wall. A brilliant smile as she teaches him her language...

He shakes his head to clear the thought away. He already has a girlfriend, for god's sake. Why dream about other women now?

A brief glance at the clock. If Sarah gets out of the bathroom soon there should be enough time for a shower and shave. And an attempt at a decent breakfast.

But first, coffee.

****************

Later that evening they stumble into the apartment, juggling briefcases, Indian takeout and- in Daniel's case- a few books borrowed from the office.

So good to be home after classes and an interminable departmental meeting, with Dr. Jordan giving him the stink-eye the whole time. Probably because of his repeated requests to increase funding for the Saqqara site, extending the dig in the fall.

Sarah sets the takeout on a free corner of the kitchen table, frowns as he turns on both computer and modem. "I thought we were going to spend a quiet night together."

"Just wanted to check email," he absently replies. "Only take a couple minutes." She shakes her head as she goes to fetch plates and forks along with a bottle of wine and glasses.

After the computer's booted up and running he quickly loads his plate, clicks on the icon for the email program.

Ding. New mail.

From Becky, which is always a treat. Her letters tend to be long and chatty, ranging from fun and flippant to serious and scholarly. He enjoys responding in the same manner, taking as much pleasure in the exchange as he had their conversations.

Sarah reads over his shoulder, frowns. "You've been getting emails from her for a while now. Who is she?"

"Someone I met at the conference in Seattle a couple years ago," he mumbles around a mouthful of tikka masala.

"Is she pretty?"

He bites a piece of naan in half and chews. "Hmm?"

"I said, is she pretty?"

"Who?"

She flicks a disdainful hand at the screen. "This...this Becky person who writes to you. Is she pretty?"

Daniel tears his gaze away from the computer to blink up at her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Um, not that I remember."

"You smile an awful lot when you're reading her emails. I've never seen you smile at anything I've written." There's a jealous edge to her voice he's never heard before.

"We're pen pals, that's all. Becky's just a grad student I happened to meet, we hit it off. Nothing more than that. It's not like I slept with her or anything."

Her eyes narrow and her expression hardens. "I'll pretend you didn't say that," she says icily.

He winces. When will he ever learn he needs a filter for anything coming out of his mouth? "Sorry."

Sarah rises from the table, plate in hand. "Whatever. I'll finish eating in the bedroom, maybe read for a while before turning in."

He watches her leave, puzzled. She's been acting colder towards him lately, though for the life of him he can't figure out why. She's known from the start how devoted he is to his work, to the point of spending more time immersed in research than with her.

Still, he loves her, and he's reasonably sure she loves him.

In one of the banks downtown there's a safe-deposit box containing certain items inherited from his parents, including a smaller velvet-lined one with their wedding rings. He considers asking her to marry him, once the quarter's over.

Ding. Another new email, this time from his mentor. See me tomorrow. Earliest opportunity.

Daniel frowns. Dr. Jordan's usually not so terse. But then he's been pretty stressed of late, most likely due to the dismal quarterly budget reports.

Which means the extra funding for Saqqara's probably in the toilet.

Maybe that's not such a bad thing. The Denver Archaeology Symposium's coming up in October. Pretty easy to hop a flight to Los Angeles from there for a couple days afterwards.

He leans over the keyboard, composing a reply to Becky.

****************

"You damn fool!" Dr. Jordan yells, throwing papers at him.

Daniel can only stand there, paralyzed in shock as his life's work flutters onto the carpet around him.

"What the hell are you trying to do? I've personally bent over backwards to give you every damned chance around here. Do you have any idea of how much I sweat working up critiques for this half-assed crap you dream up instead of real solid work? Stop wasting my time!"

His mentor seems even more florid than usual today, the angry flush reaching from his neck to the top of his bald spot. Not a good look for a man of his age, tenure, or blood pressure.

Daniel blinks in surprise. "I don't understand, Louis. I've done everything you've asked of me. Teaching courses, attending conferences, fieldwork--"

Jordan cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "And there's no question of your competency in those areas. You're an excellent researcher and hard worker. God knows your dedication to the field's second to none and your capacity for languages surpasses anyone else's in the department. Even your students have no complaints, though I daresay they're perhaps more enamored of your boyish good looks than your teaching style. You'll go far, if only you weren't so devoted to your rather unconventional theories."

"With due respect, you once taught all theories are equally valid, so long as there is sufficient evidence to back them up. I've put in the work, mine are as grounded in fact as those considered mainstream. Why won't you allow me to publish as I see fit and let others make up their own minds?"

Jordan sighs and sits down, slowly. "Daniel, you know how fond I am of you. You're one of the best and brightest students I've ever had. A true prodigy. But no matter how conscientious and meticulous your supporting research, or how well-thought-out your conclusions, no one in the academic community is going to take you and your theories of cross-pollination seriously. Not so long as you also keep insisting a good deal of Ancient Egypt's culture and language- including the pyramids- existed for reasons and purposes other than what's already been well established. By, I might add, those with far more experience in the field than you."

"Those aren't just my theories. My own grandfather--"

"Nicholas Ballard was a brilliant scientist, to be sure. Though you have to admit he was ultimately considered a crackpot and no one took his ideas seriously."

"...Like grandfather, like grandson. Is that what you're saying?"

"Of course not. I respect your desire to redeem his legacy, but surely not at the expense of your own career and reputation?"

Daniel sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He has a nasty feeling the other shoe's about to drop. "While I appreciate your concern for my professional well-being, is there some other reason you're giving me this warning?"

Jordan clears his throat, nervously shuffles papers, refuses to meet his eyes. "Certain...rumors have surfaced about you in the academic community."

"Rumors of what, exactly?"

"Mental instability. That you've become seriously unhinged, your...theories...nothing more than artifacts of paranoid delusion."

The words hit Daniel in the gut. Eccentricity's tolerated in academia- even expected to a degree- but there's a fine line between unorthodox behavior and requiring psychiatric treatment. Though god knows he's skirted the knife-edge of sanity in the past.

"What? No. Absolutely not. I'm not crazy."

"I'm sure you aren't, and anyone else who knows you certainly believes that. But son, you have to admit--"

"Who's the source of these rumors, anyway?"

"That's not what's important here--"

"Louis, for god's sake please tell me!"

"...Dirk Sanderson, of Syracuse University."

Oh, god. Of course. This is how he's getting revenge for his humiliation in Seattle two years ago.

He swore he'd get even someday. How could Daniel have forgotten?

"The point is he has the ear of some of the most prominent Egyptologists in our field, including those who determine what gets published through the auspices of the AIA. They're already predisposed to discredit you as it is, the fact of which frankly makes what I'm about to say even worse for you."

Daniel's stomach churns. "How much worse?"

Jordan takes a while answering him. "The provosts believe if you persist with your current line of research you're in danger of tarnishing our department's reputation, perhaps even that of the entire university. They're recommending you resign your position if you don't change your tune, and quick."

"Better to sacrifice me than the department's precious honor, huh?" The words come out far more bitter than he originally intended.

His mentor looks a little put out. "Unfortunate choice of words, but true, I'm afraid."

And there it is. The end of his career, of everything he's ever worked hard for. Everything he's believed in since learning of his grandfather's work. The reason he sought emancipation from foster care to forge his own path.

But dammit, there's no way in hell he's going down without a fight.

"Just give me one more chance," Daniel pleads, not bothering to suppress the desperation in his voice.

"Son, I've already given you so many--"

"Look, the Denver Archaeology Symposium's in a month. I know it's too late to submit anything through normal channels but you've got connections with the committee, don't you?"

"I suppose I do. But honestly I don't see how that could help you here."

"Our discipline's supposed to illuminate misunderstood aspects of the past, isn't it? All I want is one chance to make people think instead of blindly accepting useless, outdated theories. To expand their horizons. Please, let me make my case."

Jordan sighs as he leans back, steepling his fingers. "All right. I can't guarantee anything, but I might be able to pull some strings through Dr. Ajami at Columbia to grant you a last-minute session. Fair warning- they won't be as receptive as you think."

"I understand that. I'm determined to try nonetheless."

His mentor smiles, thinly. "You've never been a quitter, Daniel. I can respect that." He pauses for a moment. "Tell you what. I'll write you a letter of recommendation, even extend your grant money by a month to help you get on your feet again. But that's all I can do from here on out. Believe me when I say I wish you well, no matter where you end up. Do have your letter of resignation on my desk by the end of the day, won't you?"

Daniel doesn't trust himself to make a civil reply. Instead he scowls, spins on his heel and storms out.

In his broom closet of an office he hastily composes the letter and applies his signature before turning it in to Candace, Jordan's sympathetic secretary. Packs all his personal belongings in his briefcase and a couple of cardboard boxes pilfered from the storage room, leaving them with the custodial staff to be picked up later.

Maybe not entirely the end of the world. Sure as hell feels like it, though.

So what should he do now? Take time to reflect and reassess his options, decide on a new career path?

No, he really doesn't want to think hard about his career- or what's left of it. Not tonight.

See if Sarah's willing to commiserate with him?

After a glance at the schedule in her office (no bigger than his) he discovers she's currently giving a lecture, so nix on that option.

Drown his sorrows, solo?

Without sparing a final glance for his former life he heads to the nearest bar opposite the university campus, where he downs a bottle of scotch and sourly contemplates the fickle confluence of academia and office politics.

****************

It's nearly midnight when Daniel staggers into the apartment. Sarah's sitting on the couch, staring at the TV without really watching it. He offers her a clumsy wave. "Hey."

"There you are. I've been worrying about you all day." She frowns, wrinkling her nose. "You're drunk."

He stumbles, almost falls backwards into an overstuffed armchair. Closes his eyes, wishing the world could stop spinning long enough to let him off. "Been out," he hiccups, "doing research."

"Researching what, exactly?"

"How much alcohol I need to get myself embalmed from the inside out. Today's my burial day. Feels like it, anyway."

She grimaces. "Dr. Jordan was rather rough on you, wasn't he?"

"You heard?"

"Heard? Daniel, the whole department knows. By now it's surely all over the campus."

"My life's work," he sniffs, slumping further into the armchair. "Down the toilet. No way I'm gonna get published now. Damn that Sanderson."

She sighs. "I'm sorry, truly I am. I know how much it meant to you. But you can hardly say you didn't see this coming, now can you? If you'd only channeled that same enthusiasm into more acceptable topics you'd still have a job. As I've suggested. Think of this as a sign to change your ways--"

"No," he says shortly. "Why should I? The cross-pollination of cultures, hieroglyphs with either secondary meanings or in a dialect unrelated to Ancient Egyptian or the rest of the Afro-Asiatic phylum. I'm onto something really big, Sarah. I feel it in my bones."

"Are you sure what you're feeling isn't nausea instead?" she quips with a bitter edge to the words.

He groans. "Don't remind me. Please."

"Sorry." A few moments of blessed silence. "I can't do this anymore, Daniel."

"Do what?"

"All of this," waving her hand around at the piles of books, lopsided stacks of papers, scribbled notes. "You've changed since you decided to revive some of your grandfather's work. It's like you've become obsessed."

"Sarah," he says plaintively. "You know me. Have I really changed that much?"

A reluctant nod. "I know you're not the same man I fell in love with. I'm worried for you. I'm on your side, believe me."

He sits up, brows furrowed. "I don't get it. Why are you acting this way? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Well, that's just it. Perhaps I don't." So matter-of-fact.

Whatever happened to the vibrant, passionate woman he fell in love with? This isn't the knock-down fight he's feared for the end of their relationship. Not that he'd expected it to end at all, but still.

It's quieter, calmer. Even reasonable, all things considered. A whimper instead of a bang.

Which makes it that much worse.

He blinks at her in confusion, glasses slipping down his nose. "But we're perfect for each other. I thought we had something special."

"Daniel," she sighs. "Don't make this harder than it already is. I want what's best for you. Even if you can't see it yourself. Please, give up this nonsense before it's too late."

"Are you saying you've lost faith in me?"

"I have. I'm sorry." There's a stubborn set to her jaw, cold fire in her eyes nearly masking a trace of sadness. No changing her mind, then.

With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach (surely not from the alcohol) he realizes the bottom's just dropped out of his world.

"Well, in that case I might as well pack up and leave." He rises from the chair, a trifle unsteadily.

The TV goes off and she stands up. "I already took the liberty. It's better this way for both of us. Clean break."

As she passes by he reaches out to her- in entreaty or desperation, he's not sure. "Sarah--"

He's unable to tell if she's hiding tears or not as she turns away from him, heading for the bedroom. "I'm done talking. You can sleep on the couch overnight, but I expect you to be gone when I return home. Goodnight, Daniel. And goodbye."

The door shuts firmly behind her.

For a while all he can do is stare into space. Finally he heaves a heavy sigh, removes his shoes, suit jacket and tie before stretching out on the couch, taking off his glasses and pulling an afghan over his shivering body. Bites his lip, trying hard not to throw up.

Not easy to do, when his heart's so casually been torn to pieces.

****************

The problem with mornings, Daniel thinks, is they come way too early for his liking. Especially when he's got a hell of a hangover.

He squints into the bright sunlight, realizing to his dismay Sarah's already left the apartment. On the coffee table beside him is a steaming cup and two aspirins. At least she still has that much regard for his well-being.

Not far away are his two battered suitcases, faithful companions since he was a boy. Remembers the thrill of hope he felt every time unpacking in a new foster home.

And the crushing disappointment while packing, after being told "We're sorry Daniel, but this just isn't working out..."

They're suspiciously bulging. She always was a woman of her word.

****************

From there it's a slow slide to oblivion.

Grant money no longer available, the lease on his apartment runs out. A series of cheap, anonymous hotel rooms on the last of his meager savings and friends' couches to crash on become his temporary homes, between unsuccessful attempts to secure positions at other academic institutions. Seems no one wants to hire a failed, even potentially unstable, archaeologist.

Sanderson's revenge is complete for now.

Hopefully October will change all that.

****************

Finally the conference arrives, a dreary day in Denver. If he were a superstitious man he'd consider it a poor omen for a reversal of fortune. He's trying hard not to.

This is it. Daniel's day of renewal, his triumphant return to the academic fold. He's as prepared as he's ever going to be, with notes, pictures, transparencies and translations. Every ounce of ammunition he can muster against a tidal wave of disbelief.

It's not enough.

The presentation goes just as Dr. Jordan had warned, with everyone walking out on him. All because he wanted to defy convention, shake things up. Open people's eyes to new possibilities.

It's pouring by the time Daniel trudges from the hotel, faithful suitcases in hand, shoulders slumped with weariness. Utter dejection seeping into every pore of his body along with the rain.

Theories eviscerated, academic career and reputation in tatters.

No girlfriend, no apartment, no friends or family to lean on.

Nothing to do, except maybe lose himself in a bottle of tequila from the Armenian at the corner market.

Rock bottom, as they say. Hurts like hell.

Two men in military uniforms holding umbrellas step up to him. "Are you Daniel Jackson?" one inquires.

"Yes..." he replies, warily.

"Please come with us." They turn smartly on their heels, leading him to a limo.

One of them opens the rear door. An elegant, white-haired woman smiles and beckons him inside. He shoves his hood back and slides onto the seat beside her, still dripping.

She holds up a familiar photo from the file on her lap. "Your parents?"

"Foster parents." One couple out of many over the years. "And you are?"

"My name is Catherine Langford, Dr. Jackson. I'm here to offer you a job."

"What kind of job?"

"Translating early Egyptian hieroglyphs. I'm certain you of all people will find them interesting..."

When you hit rock bottom there's nowhere to go but up.

Really, what else can he do but listen?

Chapter Text

--2000, Los Angeles, California--

The cabin porch rolls under Becky's feet. She gasps, bracing herself against the doorway.

Nearby a pencil attached to an empty tin can swings erratically from side to side, tracing jagged lines onto a long narrow strip of spooled paper. The can's suspended by wires from a narrow board fastened with duck tape to another in an L-shape, the whole thing braced and mounted with more tape to a cutting board.

Once the aftershock's over she breathes easier, scooping it up and gingerly stepping off the porch. "Whaddya know, Unc. Your homemade seismograph actually works."

Mac smirks at her by the jeep. "You had doubts?"

"Well, to be fair most of your contraptions do, though not always. A certain egg-cooking robot and a pair of my favorite white sneakers stained yellow with yolk come to mind."

"Years later and you still hold that against me. I bought you a new pair, didn't I?"

Her retort is overridden by a pounding rhythmic beat. Four sleek military helicopters escorting another with twin sets of rotating blades zoom overhead from the direction of Edwards AFB, heading west towards the drowned city.

"That'd be the President," Mac remarks.

"Come to inspect what's left of the California coastline, I imagine. Everything packed up?"

"You bet. Ready to leave?"

When she doesn't reply he comes up beside her. Follows her lingering gaze, squinting in the sunlight reflecting off the water.

There's a new bay on the coast, formed out of massive tectonic and seismic forces at work. One that hadn't been there the day before yesterday.

The Los Angeles Basin's now completely covered by the blue waters of the Pacific, waves slapping against the remnants of Downtown's tallest buildings breaking through the surface. Once in a while bodies or other bits of flotsam and jetsam come bubbling up to be collected by a flotilla of rescue and salvage ships. All that remains of what had been a bustling, sprawling metropolis.

"Guess that's it then," he says softly. "End of an era."

She swallows. "Yeah." A tear trickles down her cheek for the poor people who couldn't make it out in time. So many lives lost in such a devastating disaster.

He gently squeezes her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

With one final wistful glance to the west Becky climbs in the jeep. Marveling on how much the world can change in two days.

****************

--48 hours earlier--

"Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, Candace speaking. How can I help you?"

"Yes, hello. I'm trying to get in touch with Dr. Daniel Jackson. Is he available, by any chance? I'm a friend of his."

"I'm sorry, but Dr. Jackson doesn't work here anymore."

"Do you know of any other way to contact him? Did he leave a forwarding address or phone number?"

A moment of hesitation. "No, ma'am. We haven't seen him since he resigned his position four years ago."

"I see. Well, thanks anyway."

"No problem, ma'am."

Becky sighs as she hangs up the phone. Another dead end.

The last time she heard from Daniel was four years ago when he'd written about coming out to visit her after attending a symposium in Denver. Vague rumors of his humiliation there persist throughout the academic community yet no one has a clue what happened to him afterwards. Or cares to, which she finds more than a little irksome.

Every subsequent email bounced back as undelivered. Phone number disconnected. All of her leads have now dried up. It's like he's disappeared completely off the face of the earth.

Which is a real shame. She could really use someone to talk to, after her latest failed attempt at a boyfriend. Dylan's a sweet guy but she's long ago decided against being intimate with anyone if there's no sense of connection and he's made clear he won't be content with merely a platonic relationship.

To be honest, she's never felt anything like the instant rapport she and Daniel shared with anyone else. Not for lack of trying, anyway.

Becky absently fingers the hummingbird pendant resting just below her throat. Every time she wears it she wonders about him. Where he is, what he's doing, if he's at all happy. If she'll ever see him again.

She hopes so.

****************

Working for the Phoenix Foundation has its advantages.

After achieving her second doctorate a couple years back Becky's earned a position in the Linguistics Department that merits a cozy office all her own with an actual window, and a salary that's fairly decent by any stretch. Phoenix treats its employees well as recompense for luring the best of the best away from jobs in other, sometimes more lucrative, areas.

She's been living with Uncle Mac ever since he became her guardian after the car crash. They enjoy each other's company but once he makes his mind up about asking Nikki to move in the apartment will be a little crowded with the three of them. So lately she's thinking of using what's left of the college fund her parents set up and savings from her Phoenix salary to purchase her own place, with a view of the ocean if she's lucky.

No boyfriends in the picture since Dylan but that's okay. She loves her job, and her friends and family keep her from feeling too lonely. With help from Pete Mac's easing into a slower pace of life, free from adventures and constant danger. Uncle Jack stops by on leave every now and then to keep things interesting, back to his old cheerful self though he refuses to talk about his current posting.

It's a rich, rewarding life. Really, she ought to have no complaints.

But Becky's always been a dreamer, and every now and then she can't help wondering if there's another destiny in store for her. Somewhere far away from here.

Even so she's content enough.

If only the darn tremors would stop.

****************

He ambles through the Foundation, hands stuffed casually in pockets, nodding and sharing greetings along the way. People murmur to each other in his wake as if pointing out a living legend, though he just laughs it off.

Angus MacGyver, the man who can make anything from practically nothing. Troubleshooter and expert agent.

More consultant than agent, these days. Still fit and trim in his late 40's, even with gray hairs that keep popping up despite his best efforts to hold them at bay with judicious applications of hair dye, knees that creak and ache more often than he'd like and laugh lines gathering at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

He passes into the offices of the Linguistics Department, stopping at a familiar door with Dr. Rebecca Grahme engraved on the nameplate.

Every time he sees that he feels a warm satisfied glow, only partially made up of an uncle's pride in his beloved niece. She's come a long way in fourteen years, from the timid, newly-made orphan to the brilliant social scientist, alight in her own sphere.

It's like watching anyone he's mentored over the years at the Challengers Club or Big Brother program, coming into their own.

Only better, 'cause it's his princess.

He knocks on the door, opening it just enough to see her in profile, typing on her laptop and absently biting her lower lip in concentration. The midday light through the window makes her auburn hair- cut in a flattering A-line bob- glow.

He smiles. "Hey Beck."

A grin lights up her face as she turns and sees him, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Hey, Unc. Just can't stay away from this place, can you?"

He gives a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe not much fieldwork these days but that doesn't mean I can't keep my hand in every now and then. Pete left me tickets for the Twins-Dodgers game this weekend in his office before he left for D.C., thought I'd pick them up and treat my favorite linguist to lunch. Interested?"

"Sure, if you're buying." She checks the time, closes her laptop. "Though I'm actually due to attend a lecture right now. Care to join me?"

"What's it about?"

"Plate tectonics. Earthquakes, specifically. The geology department's giving a lecture to anyone who's interested, right here in the building."

"Just to remind us of the seismic powder keg we're already sitting on," Mac notes, very dry. "Sure, why not?"

****************

In the spirit of freely sharing information the Foundation offers a series of lunch hour lectures open to all employees, in a small theater set up expressly for this purpose. Mac and Becky slip in through a side door, finding seats at one end of the back row.

The room's remarkably full considering the day's topic. What with the tremors occurring on a regular basis earthquakes are on everyone's mind.

On stage Dr. Lewis Meriwether- gangling, thick spectacles and towheaded- and Dr. Clark Williams- robust, deep brown skin and tightly-curled graying hair- are busy studying the laptop in front of them, tapping away at the keyboard. The presentation projected on the screen behind them appears to be permanently frozen on the title slide.

Mac frowns. "Maybe I should go and help them out."

"Why?" Becky asks.

"I've been putting up with the IT equipment's quirks for years. Got one or two tricks that might help."

"Unc, they're the leading scientists in their department. I know you still want to feel useful, but surely they can find their way around a slideshow program on their own."

The display suddenly unfreezes and flicks forward a couple of slides. Meriwether and Williams heave a joint sigh of relief.

On the screen appears a detailed map and cross-section of the San Andreas Fault in all its 800-mile glory. From Mendocino to the Salton Sea, the uncomfortable and always-shifting junction of the Pacific and North American Plates.

The lecture begins with basic facts about plate tectonics in general, and the fault in particular. Meriwether and Williams take turns speaking, soft tenor and booming baritone alternating. It takes a while but Mac can feel the atmosphere in the room changing as people pay closer attention. He even finds himself getting caught up in the topic, though it isn't anything he hasn't heard before. Out of the corner of his eye Becky appears to be equally enraptured.

"Experts such as ourselves have been predicting what's popularly known as the Big Quake for years, greatly affecting most of the state's major metropolitan areas," Williams concludes. "We're living along the Ring of Fire after all, there's proof it happened before in the distant past and will happen again in due course. The only questions are when and of what magnitude. We advise everyone to therefore be mindful and take appropriate precautions." The floor shifts slightly under everyone's feet as if to punctuate his words, then subsides.

The crowd disperses quickly, unsettled.

Mac and Becky linger until everyone else has gone save for the geologists on the stage. Thanks to the excellent acoustics the agitated discussion between them can be heard even from the back of the auditorium.

"I'm telling you Clark, we should've told them of our predictions!" Meriwether hisses. "The data we analyzed this morning--"

"Lewis, it wouldn't have done much good," Williams cuts in. "We tried to contact the Governor's office this morning with our warning, remember? Only to be told he's in meetings all day. Ditto the Mayor. The L.A. Times and other media outlets won't even send reporters. People have heard far too many lunatic rants about the Big Quake these days to take us seriously."

"Too bad Director Thornton's out of town, his words would carry a lot of weight in the right ears." Meriwether sighs, his tall frame seeming to fold in on itself in his despair. "So what do we do, if we're the only ones to know the end of everything's taking place as soon as tomorrow?"

"The only thing we can, my friend. Go home tonight and ensure the safety of our friends and loved ones."

"But what about right now?"

"Now I'm going to lunch in the cafeteria. I hear the chicken salad is excellent today. Why not join me, hmm?" Williams sympathetically pats his distraught colleague on the back as they leave the stage.

***************

Mac's always trusted his gut feelings to get him out of a jam. Which has earned him a reputation as the guy people can count on to solve any problem, avert certain disaster with a modest amount of knowledge, skill and a lot of sheer luck. Not this time.

What he just heard has him, ironically enough, almost paralyzed with fear. He shakes his head, trying to banish the sense of unreality settling over him. 

Becky looks a little stunned herself, a strong intuitive sense running in the family. "So the Big Quake's gonna happen after all. I mean, it was bound to sooner or later, like they said. But I certainly wasn't expecting this soon."

"Me neither. I keep thinking we should warn people ourselves, tell them to get out of town."

"Yeah, but who? Everyone we know already is. Penny's up north filming a series in Vancouver, Dalton's flying one of his long-distance cargo hauls, and Pete's in D.C. with back-to-back meetings. Even Nikki's somewhere in Europe on assignment. Hardly anyone else would take us seriously."

"But the Mayor, the Governor--" He sighs, swiping a hand across his face. "No point, is there? Meriwether and Williams already tried that angle, and got shot down for it."

"Exactly. And if no one wanted to heed a warning from two respected Phoenix scientists, how do you think we could possibly convince them the Big Quake's coming with only our gut feelings as proof?"

"I know, I know. I just can't shake the notion we're the ones who can do something about it. Or at least me." He grimaces, hearing the frustration creeping into his voice. He hates feeling so darn helpless. The end of the world- or at least for a good chunk of California- could occur any time now, and there's no way to stop it.

Becky places a hand on his arm in gentle understanding. Just like her mom, remarkably calm in a crisis. "Believe me Unc, I wish you could save the day as usual. Unless you actually do know how to stop a major earthquake with paperclips, chewing gum and duck tape."

He can't help but chuckle. Trust her to keep him grounded. "Point taken. Guess we go straight to Plan B, then."

"What's that?"

"We get back to the apartment, pack and leave town. For good."

"Okay. But where to? Pete's cabin in the Sierras?"

"Not exactly. Jack and I worked it out years ago, right after you moved in with me. If the end of the world happens or whatever, we head straight for his place in Colorado Springs."

"Military protection if things get ugly, so to speak."

"Yeah. You know me, I like to hope for the best. But in this case--"

"--Better prepare for the worst." She sighs. "Yeah, Unc. I got it. Plan B it is."

***************

Traffic seems normal from the Foundation's offices in Santa Monica to the apartment in West L.A., peaceful and ordinary. Hard to believe things might devolve overnight into utter chaos.

Becky finds the view so unsettling she studies her uncle's profile instead. Mac's staring silently ahead, a tightness to his strong jawline and long fingers tapping urgently against the steering wheel the only outward signs of his distress. Worrying about everything and everyone as he does.

She's concerned as well but panicking about the inevitable won't make it go away, as her mom always said. Better to face certain disaster with a clear head.

Once at the apartment they swing into action. Becky's already wearing jeans (casual Friday in the office) but changes her blouse for a practical denim shirt and flats for sneakers. Opens her closet, standing on tiptoes to reach for an old Army canvas duffel belonging to Mac along with a travel bag she uses for overnight trips. Spreads them open on the bed beside a blue backpack, battered from years of carrying schoolbooks yet still sturdy.

She pauses, thinking fondly of her mother packing for her, three suitcases' worth of clothes and goodies for summer vacation fourteen years ago. Overkill perhaps but Allison Grahme believed in being prepared for anything.

Time to follow her example. More jeans, sweaters, flannel shirts and t-shirts. Hooded sweatshirts and sweatpants. Socks- cotton, wool and fuzzy. Shorts, underwear. Second pair of sneakers, hiking boots, a pair of sandals. Also cold-weather gear- gloves, waterproof jacket, long underwear, knit hat. Two blouses, slacks, skirt, nylons and pair of flats, in case she has to dress formally for some reason.

She meets Mac in the bathroom for toiletries. "You got room for extra toilet paper?" she asks, as casually as if it were just another camping trip.

He bends, reaching into the cabinet. "Yeah."

"Good." After he pulls out she ducks under, to retrieve a package of pads. Damned if she won't face her detested periods without them, end of the world or no.

Back to her room, opening the jewelry chest on the dresser. Nothing of monetary worth though some have sentimental value such as the hummingbird necklace- treasured gift from Daniel- and a heart-shaped locket in antique gold containing family pictures. She places both into a small velvet bag.

Speaking of family pictures...

She takes the time to carefully separate the photos on the dresser from their frames and slip them into an envelope. Formal portraits over the years along with a few casual shots- her parents and brother, herself and her uncles on various occasions. One in particular with the gang during a surprise birthday party she arranged for Mac at Phoenix, as a thank-you for taking her in.

Great friends and found family- Jack Dalton, Pete Thornton, Nikki Carpenter, Penny Parker. So many good times shared together, along with the adventures. Happy times. She's going to miss them all so much, it's unlikely she and Mac will ever have that again.

Fortunately they're all well away from here. Yet even if they dropped everything and returned right away there won't be anything remaining of their homes going by what Meriwether and Williams said. Becky has no doubt they're telling the truth.

An unexpected surge of emotion threatens to overwhelm her and she gives herself a mental shake. Enough wallowing already. Better focus on the matter at hand.

Keep your feet on the ground, girl.

She wishes she could take her whole library but space is limited. Settles for some of her most favorite fantasy and sci-fi works along with current reading material. Also a collection of world mythologies and The Norton Anthology of English Literature, holdovers from college but good reads nonetheless.

On her desk are grammar books and dictionaries in Latin and Esperanto, languages she's learning for fun. Might as well pack those too.

"You ready, Beck?" Mac's standing by her door, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and flannel shirt under his signature brown leather jacket, hair curling just above the collar. Leather travel bag and the red nylon gym bag he usually takes to hockey practice dangle from his hands, backpack slung around one shoulder. Still worried but ultimately resigned to their fate, whatever it may be.

"Almost. Got through to Jack yet?"

He shakes his head. "Left a message on his machine. Must be at work."

"Right." She knows better than to ask what her other uncle does in Colorado Springs, since he jokes he'd have to shoot them if they ever found out. The one time she tried in the middle of the night she received a bunch of vague answers and little else. Probably classified anyway.

Only a few things left to pack. Wallet and other items from her purse, glasses case, sleeping mask, Walkman and spare batteries, select tapes. Her very own pocketknife, which Mac gave her at Christmas when she was thirteen. She stashes it all in the blue backpack, zips everything up.

One last look around before taking a deep breath, hefting her bags and following Mac downstairs.

They load the back of the jeep, adding a cooler with ice packs and cardboard boxes filled with food from the fridge and pantry. Also jugs of water, sleeping bags, tent and first aid kit. Same as for any ordinary camping trip except for a thick wad of cash- the family emergency fund- stashed in Mac's backpack, portable radio with extra batteries. Not to mention a shoebox filled with spare Swiss Army Knives and duck tape, because one can never have too many of those.

"Thanks for reminding me to fill the jeep and spare can with gas on the way here," Mac notes, "and to check both oil and tires. We're good to go."

"We'd better shut off the gas and unplug appliances and electronics before we leave. Don't want to cause a fire on top of everything else."

"That's my girl. Thinking ahead as always."

After taking care of everything she almost bumps into him as he lingers by the front door. "What's wrong?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just wanted to take one last look around, you know? Never stayed so long in one place before save for Mission City. Guess it's a lot harder to leave than I thought it would be."

She can only nod agreement, unable to speak for the lump in her throat.

For half of her life this was a second home. Eclectic in a comfortable sort of way- mismatched furniture, souvenirs from Mac's travels, stacks of books, assorted sports equipment, scientific items borrowed from the Phoenix labs. Some decorative and organizational touches of her own here and there. A warm, cozy atmosphere, full of so many good memories they now have to leave behind.

The apartment shakes, pictures rattling on the walls, books and knickknacks crashing to the floor. She swallows, fighting the urge to tidy up.

"Must be our cue to leave," he quips, though his tone carries a trace of melancholy.

"Must be." She blinks back unexpected tears.

He looks down at her and manages a smile. Long fingers gently cup her cheek and she gratefully leans into his touch. "Becky, don't worry. It'll be tough going for a while but you can do this, and I'll be right by your side. Be brave, okay?"

Trust him to always say the right thing. "Okay."

He locks the door behind them one final time. "Ready?"

She takes a deep breath, gives a short, decisive nod. "Ready."

A new chapter's about to begin. They're heading into the unknown. So be it.

As long as they're together, everything will be all right.

***************

The Phoenix Foundation has a cabin in the Angeles National Forest, high in the San Gabriel Mountains on a west-facing ridge overlooking the basin. Close to the city yet far enough away to make for a comfortable weekend retreat.

Mac and Becky have the place to themselves- he knows where Pete keeps the spare key- so they spend the first night in relative comfort. Electricity, hot water and a big stone fireplace, perfect for toasting marshmallows and sharing stories by firelight. Cozy beds with actual sheets and blankets.

Becky sighs contentedly, snuggling into warmth. Mac's soft, familiar snores in the other bed and the slow chirping of crickets outside the bedroom window soothe her into deep sleep.

For an uncertain future it's a good beginning.

****************

Mac wakes suddenly thanks to old DXS instincts, his eyes darting around his surroundings, vision adjusting to the darkened interior of the cabin. By his reckoning dawn's not far off though a lot noisier than usual, given the restless activity outside from birds and other forest creatures. In the wilderness it's best to take cues from nature as Harry always pointed out.

In the other bed Becky softly sighs and turns over, normally a sound sleeper save for the odd nightmare. The first few years of his guardianship he used to sit by her bed for a while after coming home late from an assignment, reassuring himself of her well-being as if seeking proof he still had a reason to keep going.

A faint shiver tickles along his spine. Things are about to go very, very wrong indeed.

All senses on high alert he gets out of bed and rests a hand on her shoulder, nudging her awake. "Becky, wake up."

She yawns, burrowing into her covers. "Aw c'mon, Unc. Five more minutes? Not even light outside yet."

"I'm serious. Got a bad feeling about this."

"But I'm still so sleepy--" A sudden large jolt, followed quickly by a violent shaking that seems to go on forever. "On second thought I'm wide awake."

He struggles to stay on his feet. "C'mon, let's get outta here. We can't stay inside, the place might crash down on top of us."

"Right." She puts on her glasses, grabs for his hand. They hurry out of the bedroom, dodging fallen items along the way. The cabin's become a grim imitation of a carnival funhouse, throwing them off balance with every step accompanied by glass breaking, wooden beams creaking ominously, the groaning of the building itself.

Underneath it all sounds a reverberating deep bass note as the quake- twelve points on the Richter Scale by Mac's guess, if not more- spends its massive amount of energy along the fault line.

They reach the front door, shoving it open, practically throwing themselves outside and off the porch. The ground lurches for a few seconds more then finally stops. In the distance they hear a faint yet definite clamor of shrieking car alarms, wailing sirens, barking dogs and other discordant sounds of civilization disrupted. Around the basin plumes of thick dark smoke rise into the air here and there. Mac's obscurely grateful for Becky's foresight to shut the gas off back at the apartment.

"Looks like the epicenter's under the basin." Becky shudders. "God. Must be chaos down there. Lucky we got out when we did, huh?"

"Yeah. Let's sit in the jeep for a while," Mac suggests. "Safer than back inside the cabin."

"Good idea." They unroll their sleeping bags and spread them around themselves, a layer of warmth against the early-morning chill.

Mac leans his head against the back of the driver's seat and closes his eyes, feeling suddenly drained as a result of the near-panicked flight from the cabin. The usual post-adrenaline crash after being thrown into a crisis.

An aftershock rumbles under their feet followed by another, the car rocking side to side, reminder of what they've just been through.

He hears the static and jumbled sounds of the jeep's radio being tuned, opens his eyes to see Becky fiddling with the dials. "Just wondering if I can get any news," she says to his questioning look.

On a familiar local station announcers try to speak calmly but even through the speakers they can hear an undercurrent of panic. At length Mac says, "Better shut it off. Don't want to waste the battery." Becky sighs agreement and complies.

He shifts into a slightly more comfortable position and closes his eyes again. Falling into a coasting state as his nephew Chris used to call it, neither awake nor asleep.

Hopefully there won't be any more quakes and they can get underway when the sun's fully up.

****************

This time Becky wakes first. Not long after dawn, judging by how much lighter the sky has become. An eerie stillness in the air, a lingering whiff of smoke.

It's quiet. Too quiet, as a matter of fact. A sudden shiver runs along her spine.

She reaches over, touching Mac's arm. "Unc, wake up."

Unlike her he's used to waking quickly. "What is it?"

"Something really bad's about to happen."

Both startle at a sudden loud shrieking, groaning sound made by the earth, the volume increasing with every second. Becky winces and covers her ears; there's no getting back to sleep now. Then it stops, replaced once more by a total and eerie silence.

Mac shoves his sleeping bag to one side, climbs out of the jeep. "Get the binoculars from the glove compartment, willya? We gotta check this out."

They carefully venture a few yards west, stopping well short of the cliff's edge. Good thing the cabin's further away, Becky realizes with a shudder. Otherwise they might've toppled over with the first quake a few hours ago.

The view is just as she feared, complete and utter devastation as far as the eye can see. Seems distorted somehow, the air even hazier than usual. "Different quality than smog," Becky observes. "Wildfire smoke, perhaps?"

"Dust, more than likely. Meriwether and Williams mentioned that in the lecture, remember? Sediment loosened by vibrations and tremors from tectonic shifts and exposed to the air, lingering in the air as particulates. Better cover our mouths and noses as a precaution," whipping out a bandana from his jacket. Becky does the same.

The view shifts again. "Unc, did you see that? Almost as if everything is shrinking..."

A sick feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. She grabs the binoculars from Mac's hand for confirmation.

Not shrinking. The ground is sinking, before their very eyes. The entire L.A. Basin's steadily dropping downwards at a visible rate.

With a vast roaring sound the Pacific Ocean rushes in, massive walls of water rising high into the air then crashing down to wreak havoc in their wake. Tidal waves ripping through the former basin, gradually decreasing in force until they culminate against the base of the San Gabriel Mountains in gentle splashes. Only the upper third of the tallest buildings are visible above the surface now, the ground having settled several hundred feet below sea level.

Tsunami along with earthquakes and a shifting fault, a devastating combination yet hardly a surprise considering the current state of the ocean floor.

They can only watch in stunned silence, sole witnesses to the singular destruction of what was a thriving metropolis just yesterday, the landscape completely transformed in a matter of minutes.

Presently Mac clears his throat. "So, how about breakfast?"

She stares at him, wondering if he's gone nuts. "Seriously? It's the end of the world and you're hungry?"

"Sure. Can't get off the mountain until things settle down, right? Might as well eat and take stock. C'mon, let's see what we can scrounge from what's left of the kitchen." He turns on his heel and heads back towards the cabin.

With a sigh and final glance westward she follows him. He does make a certain amount of sense.

****************

They have to wait until the next day for things to settle down and they can resume their trip. After a fitful sleep they leave soon as it's light enough, reloading the jeep and slowly making their way down the mountain. Finally heading east, the sun rising over a changed world.

Not the worst road trip Mac's ever been on but certainly one of the most surreal. And far from over.

Outside of Victorville they find themselves practically riding point on a flood of refugees headed for Las Vegas, across the Mojave Desert. Not to gamble but to live in disaster relief camps set up south of the city. Seems everyone who can is fleeing inland for safety.

As they soon discover, it's only the beginning.

According to the news significant seismic activity's no longer limited to Southern California or the West Coast; the "Big Quake" set off a chain reaction all the way around the Pacific, touching off more earthquakes and tsunamis, even select volcanoes erupting. Damage already counted in billions of dollars, and millions of lives.

Meriwether and Williams were right, the poor guys. The end of everything, and there's nothing he and Becky can do about it.

Except survive.

****************

"Jack, it's Mac. Thought you'd like to know we're still alive. Passing through Vegas now, on our way up I-15. If you haven't already figured it out from the news, this is Plan B. Be sure to leave a light on for us, willya? See you soon."

He hangs up the phone, disgusted at having to leave yet another message. What's his brother doing that keeps him so busy all the time?

A huge chunk of the emergency cash goes to fill up the jeep and spare can with gas and buy a few foodstuffs to augment their supply. Prices are astronomical given the current crisis but there's no choice.

In St. George there's not even a dial tone to be had. Mac figures phone service must be down all over the West by now.

A minor symptom of the major chaos to come.

****************

They make their way in a northeasterly fashion, but it's slow going. All manner of roadblocks cross their path, from aftershocks rippling through the ground to landslides to fighting refugee traffic heading in the opposite direction. If something worse is happening further east it's too late to turn back now.

Days are spent driving as far as they can, using their dwindling supply of gas plus more siphoned from cars abandoned along the way. Sooner or later they'll have to leave the jeep altogether and go on foot, but not yet. Mac's become an expert at keeping his pride and joy running as long as it has.

They remain vigilant during their waking hours, considering themselves fortunate not to encounter any threats along the way, human or animal. As a matter of principle they carry no guns but that doesn't mean they're completely weaponless either thanks to Mac's talent. Their luck's holding out so far but they both know things could change at any moment.

Nights are spent trying to pick up radio signals bouncing off the ionosphere, piecing together the news of a world inexplicably and inevitably dying. The millennium come at last, though hardly the way anyone expected.

Tremors are shaking things up all over the planet, along fault lines both major and minor. Tsunamis sweep away major population centers near every ocean. Previously dormant volcanoes begin to show signs of renewed life once again.

It's not just nature falling apart, either. People are in panic mode, rioting and looting in the streets of what cities remain intact, fighting over resources made scarce. Governments collapsing everywhere.

Rather frightening how tenuous the veneer of civilization really is, when it comes to a crisis of this magnitude.

Worse yet no one has a clue why it's happening, or what can be done to stop it. And, Becky thinks with a trace of cynicism, if someone actually does they're probably keeping it to themselves.

After absorbing as much of the day's crises as they can stand they fix a hot meal over a campfire and spread out their sleeping bags to spoon together. Feeling Mac's arms gently cradling her- protecting her as always, keeping her safe and warm- is the only way she can fall asleep now.

"Sleep well, Unc," she whispers into the darkness every night.

"Sleep well, Beck."

In the morning they eat a quick rehydrated breakfast then bundle everything back into the jeep and it's on the road again as the old song goes.

September's winding down and the hottest days of the year are behind them. At the cautious rate they're going Becky figures it'll be winter by the time they reach Colorado Springs.

****************

The airwaves these days are chock full of every kind of crazy theory or rant as to the cause. Alien influence, multinational government conspiracy, divine judgement or what have you.

Good thing neither of them buy into that garbage. Mac's always been the skeptic in the family, and she has a pretty good head on her shoulders herself, with a clear sense of when she's hearing utter balderdash. Things just happen, that's all.

Time to be realistic. No salvation's coming for them, no rapture. No means of escape off Earth, either. The human race is finished, and not even by its own collective hand. It's the planet itself that's doing them in.

Once they reach Grand Junction the tremors start up again after a whole week of quiet, even worse than before. Yet they doggedly follow the road, onwards and upwards into the Rockies.

Stubbornness runs deep in the family, after all. Mac and Becky aren't quitters by any means.

Besides, Jack's waiting for them on the other side. Wouldn't do to disappoint him.

****************

The original plan was to take I-70 over the mountains to Denver and head south from there. However a massive landslide's blocking traffic west of Vail, with cars abandoned on both sides of the road. Meaning they must now backtrack to where Highway 24 heads south, a more convoluted route over the mountains.

The strangest thing they've noticed about this long, strange trip is how every community they drive through appears to already be deserted, turned into ghost towns seemingly overnight. Downright unnerving.

Their faithful jeep finally gives up the ghost just east of Hartsel. When a thunderstorm rolls in Becky spies a storage barn large enough to provide shelter for the night, and they push the vehicle inside just before the downpour hits.

Rain drums against the metal roof. Farm machinery slowly rusts in piles. The scent of used engine oil makes Becky's nose wrinkle.

Mac takes out the map, spreads it on the hood. "So we're about here," he says, tapping a long finger on the paper. "Sixty miles to go before we reach Colorado Springs, more or less. Only take us a few more days walking. Not bad, considering."

"All of it uphill," she sighs. "Through the Rockies on foot in the middle of fall. Just peachy."

"Yeah, I know it's not the most ideal time of the year for this, but we gotta keep going. C'mon Beck, stay positive. We're almost there."

"But I'm tired, Unc," she can't help whining. "Couldn't we just find a house somewhere and hibernate until spring?" He quirks an eyebrow and she sighs. "I know, I know. God, I wish we were there already."

"You and me both. C'mon, let's eat and get some rest."

Dinner consists of protein bars and water from the canteen. They sit against the jeep and Becky shivers, tugging her jacket tighter around her. Fall comes on fast in the higher elevations, and the wind already carries a biting chill.

Mac unzips one of the sleeping bags and drapes it over them. He slips an arm around Becky, holding her next to his heart. She burrows into his jacket with a faint moan.

The thunderstorm ends, followed by an eerie silence. Even the insects know something's off.

"I'm scared." The quiet admission rings loud in her ears.

"It'll be okay. Just a few more days and we'll be sitting on the deck at Jack's place."

"Watching you burn the steaks again," she quips lightly, then sobers. "Seriously, I don't think I can take much more of this."

"Sure you can. I'm so proud of you, you know that? More of a trooper than I ever expected. My brave princess."

"You realize I'm in my late twenties, right? Rather old for a princess."

"Never." Soft press of lips against the top of her head. "Night, Beck."

"Night, Unc." She relaxes, soothed by his steady heartbeat. Sheltered from the storm in more ways than one, falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning they unload the jeep, taking stock and balancing the load between them. Not much food or potable water left, but it's still a whole lot to carry by hand and they're unwilling to leave anything behind.

Mac scans the barn, brow furrowed in thought. "Might be able to rig up a cart or something from the machinery here, to carry our stuff."

"If anybody can, it's you," she agrees.

He does. It's not bad, wheels and axles and pipes and boards. Kinda cute, in a way.

****************

Days have passed and they're nowhere near Colorado Springs.

Ordinarily Mac's good at orienteering and Becky's no slouch at reading a map either but they've veered so far off course they could be going in circles for all he knows. With the highways clogged by landslides they decided to take a shortcut through the forest, on the old service roads skirting around the peaks. Which turned out to be a huge mistake.

To make matters worse what's left of their food was raided by animals two nights ago, reducing them to eating berries and whatever else can be scrounged off the land, drinking water from the occasional mountain stream. For all he's an expert in wilderness survival it's hard to find enough at this time of the year that hasn't already been gathered for the winter.

So they stagger onward, dead tired, close to starvation and gasping for breath in the thin clear mountain air. Probably suffering from altitude sickness to boot.

For the first time ever he seriously considers giving up. But that's not really an option. They gotta keep moving, one step after another.

The ground shakes under their feet. They pay it no mind, being used to it by now. Even the Rockies aren't immune to seismic shifts.

This time the rumbling continues, even after the shaking stops. Not a good sign.

Becky frowns, glancing up the slope. "You hear something?"

A few rocks tumble down by their feet, then more and more. Landslide approaching, and fast.

There's no shelter anywhere in sight. Only option is to run.

A sudden burst of adrenaline gives him enough energy to grab her hand, pulling her along with him. If they can just get out of range in time-

Too late.

****************

Head throbbing with every movement, Mac struggles to get everything off his niece's buried form.

"Hang on, princess. Almost there."

The last of the debris is removed and his breath catches in his throat at the scratches and bruises on her face and hands, glasses askew and a little dinged up though not broken. What worries him more is the vertical gash in her left side, a deep one. She's losing a lot of blood.

Becky moans, barely this side of conscious. "Unc...hurts..."

"It's okay, Beck. I got you." He removes his shirt, tears it into strips, presses the fabric against her wound. Not much he can do otherwise.

If he were at all religious he'd pray for a miracle at this point. Too bad he's an atheist.

But it happens anyway.

He can't believe he's hearing the distinct, rhythmic thumping of helicopters, a mile away or less judging by the sound. But how can he get their attention in time?

Then he remembers the flare gun in his backpack. His arm must've gotten sprained during the landslide, because it hurts like heck when he reaches to extract it from one of the outer pockets. He tries to convince himself it's no worse than on any other adventure, pulling off the proverbial last-minute save.

All he wants at this point is to stretch out and sleep by his niece's side. Yet if he does he may not wake again, ever. So he's gotta keep going, for her sake as well as his own.

The helicopters are coming closer. It's now or never.

With a mighty effort he raises the gun straight above his head and fires. The flare shoots up into the sky, exploding with a bang into bright light and smoke.

Mac slumps against the ground, completely wasted. So good to lie back against the cool rock, all the accumulated aches and pains seeming to drain right through him.

There's nothing more he can do. He'll die right here beside Becky, lost somewhere in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Jack will never know what happened, his only clue a couple cryptic telephone messages.

A loud rhythmic thumping pounds in his head, perhaps his heartbeat. No, it's the helicopters.

He feels himself drifting, surely following his beloved niece into darkness. Ironic if they die just before they're rescued. Jack's right, the universe has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

He's reminded of a poem he once read by T.S. Eliot. This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

Mac wants to laugh at the wackiness of it all, but he's way too tired. Barely able to keep his eyes open as it is.

Through slitted eyes he catches a glimpse of helicopter landing wheels coming to rest against the ground not far away. A pair of black combat boots hurry towards him.

"Geez. You two just can't keep out of trouble, can ya?"

No. No way. The last person he ever expected to see on this side of life is kneeling beside him. Same rugged features, velvet-brown eyes, familiar smirk. Hair much shorter than his, darker and sprinkled with gray. Dressed in green and black with unusual shoulder patches under a rescue vest.

"Jack...?" he whispers.

His twin gives a wry smile. "Nice to see you too. Both of you." He frowns at the sight of their wounds. "For crying out loud. What the hell happened to you guys?"

"Tremor...landslide," Mac mutters, wavering in and out of consciousness. "Becky..."

Jack turns to her, gently touching her cheek. "Hey, sweetheart," he croons softly. "How're you doing?"

"Hurts..." Her voice is a bare whisper.

"Sorry to hear that. Don't worry, you're safe now."

"Oh, good..." She faints.

"Damn." Jack touches two long fingers against her neck at the pulse point, then sighs in relief. "Faint but there, at least. Good thing I spotted that flare of yours when I did, huh?"

The second helicopter lands nearby, several marines emerge. Jack waves them over. "All right, get some stretchers over here, on the double!"

A medic kneels next to Mac, inspecting him for a concussion or any signs of spinal damage. The one from the other helicopter checks on Becky- taking her vitals, injecting a syringe into her arm. "She needs surgery, but we got to them just in time, Colonel."

"Thank god," Jack mutters under his breath. "Okay, get 'em on the choppers, and be extra careful about it. They're family."

As Mac's lifted onto a stretcher he waves weakly towards the overturned cart. "Jack...our stuff..."

"Yeah, I hear you. Grab their gear," he says to the rest of the marines. "And let's get back to base already. If we're out here when the ground starts shaking again I won't be a happy camper. Move it, people!"

Mac's absurdly fascinated despite his exhaustion. He's never seen his twin in full military mode before.

The stretcher jostles as he's carried into one helicopter, while marines load a rather pale Becky onto the other.

Jack climbs in beside him. "Alright Sheppard," he says to the pilot. "Contact the base. Two incoming wounded, one needing surgery ASAP. Let's blow this joint."

The pilot nods, speaking into the radio. With a slight jerk the helicopter rises into the air.

There's a sting as a medic slips a needle into Mac's arm, then blessed relief from the pain.

"Got your messages, Mac," Jack murmurs, patting him on the shoulder. "Mission accomplished. Good job. You're safe, you can relax now."

Thank god.

He lets the healing darkness take him away.

Chapter Text

Jack frowns at the map spread out on his desk, thoughtfully traces their route with a long finger. I-15 through Las Vegas, then I-70 eastward through the Rockies to Denver, then south on I-25.

His brother and niece should've been here by now, going the usual way. Though there's very little of the usual lately in any sense, truth be told.

Still, they're overdue by a lot. No way of telling if they had to take a detour, even. He devoutly wishes he knew more. Mac and Becky are the only family-by-blood he has left, after all. He'd do anything to make sure they're safe.

Of course he has a second family-by-work now too, there's nothing he wouldn't do for them either. The notion of both safe together here under Cheyenne Mountain makes him smile.

Two cryptic messages on his machine at home are all the warning Jack's been given that Mac's implementing Plan B, which makes sense. If worst comes to worst, they immediately pull up stakes and join him here in Colorado Springs before the collapse of Civilization As We Know It and all that other apocalyptic crap.

But they're late. The last message was well over a week ago before the phone system went down throughout the west with nary a peep afterwards. If things are as bad as word from the outside implies Jack can only hope they're taking their time to get here, safely on the road.

With any luck they'll be here by the time Hammond's contingency plan goes into effect. Good thing they have the Gate for an escape hatch, 'cause no place on Earth's safe anymore as it is. 

The floor quivers slightly under his feet and he grimaces. Case in point.

"Sir?" His 2IC's standing in the doorway, short blonde hair haloed by light from the corridor, blue BDU making her eyes an even more alluring shade of sapphire.

Samantha Carter, the very model of a modern major-physicist. Gorgeous and courageous and smart as a whip.

The one he cares about. Far, far, more than he's supposed to.

He never thought he'd find someone else so compatible after divorcing Sara, not that he's had much time for relationships lately. Yet here she is, and there's no way in hell they can be together as he'd like.

Doesn't take a Tok'ra mind probe to realize how much he's in love with her already.

Damn the regulations. Why doesn't he just tell her how he feels and be done with it? The world's coming to an end anyway, at least she'd know!

Maybe, just maybe, he'd find out if she feels the same.

Yeah, right. And Teal'c will be singing Broadway musicals next.

She shifts on her feet, staring at him anxiously. "Um, Colonel? You okay?"

"Never better, Carter." He folds the map, tucking it in a drawer away from her curious gaze. "What's the word?"

"General Hammond wants everyone in the conference room right away. A location for the contingency plan's been chosen."

"Good. Hope it'll be someplace tropical," he says, falling into step with her. "I've spent so much time down here lately my tan's starting to fade."

"Well, every planet has an equator, like anything with a spherical shape. Though due to the differences in axial tilt they wouldn't necessarily have tropical zones like ours, so..." her voice trails off as she catches the teasing glint in his eyes. "Ah, I think you've had plenty of opportunities to work on your tan already, sir. What with all the scouting expeditions we've been sent on to find suitable locations for the contingency plan."

Jack grins. "You're catching on, Carter."

A lot more people in the corridors these days, result of the systematic ingathering of anyone having to do with the Stargate program- civilian as well as military, actual involvement as well as potential- before the quakes and tsunamis shut down international travel for good.

Jack hides an involuntary wince as they sidle around knots of squabbling professionals. Being a man of action he's never been comfortable around most science-minded folk save for Carter and Daniel, not to mention Mac with his chemistry and engineering degrees and Becky's double doctorates. Everyone else bores him silly but them he tolerates and respects- and loves- enough to let them do what they do.

Not that he'd ever admit it to their faces, though. He does have a reputation to uphold.

Then there's the influx of refugees housed on Levels 5-7 after being processed outside the base, seeking shelter from the chaos beyond Cheyenne Mountain. Ordinary folk who've never had the slightest inkling a secret intergalactic war's been going on above their heads for the past several years.

Civilians like his own brother and niece, if they ever get here.

So yeah, it's getting kinda crowded around the ol' SGC these days.

All part of the contingency plan.

****************

When he and Carter arrive in the conference room it's already packed with members of other teams not already on missions, along with various department heads and senior staff. Daniel's too deep in discussion at one end of the table to notice his teammates' entrance.

Teal'c nods gravely they take their places beside him. "O'Neill. Major Carter."

"Hey, T. Place any bets yet as to the most likely planet?" He pays closer attention to the base grapevine than one would think for an alien. 

"I do not bet, O'Neill. Warriors on Chulak often did for reasons I considered most foolish. While other Primes encouraged such an activity, I sought other means to improve morale among those under my command."

"Aw c'mon. Don't tell me you've never once placed a wager on anything?"

"Indeed I have not. It is, as you Tau'ri say, throwing good currency after bad."

Jack's about to make a witty retort concerning their team poker nights when General Hammond enters the room. All military personnel immediately straighten and salute while the scientists respectfully incline their heads.

"At ease," he says with a nod. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid I have sad news to report before we get started. At 0730 this morning an earthquake was registered at 9.5 on the Richter Scale along the Atlantic Fault. Consequently a series of devastating tsunamis hit the East Coast not more than half an hour later, centering on Washington D.C. and environs. The President, his family, and the entire Cabinet were in the White House when the first wave hit. There has also been no word from the Pentagon nor any other agency pertaining to SGC operations, including the IOA."

A murmur of surprise ripples through the room. Hammond lifts his hand and it subsides. "Therefore we should consider ourselves entirely on our own, effective immediately. This possibility has already been included in the contingency plan for some time."

"Damned Big Quake took a chunk out of California," Louis Ferretti grumbles. "That's what got the ball rolling." Hammond shoots him a look. "Sorry, sir."

The floor shakes slightly, as if to punctuate Ferretti's statement.

Jack sighs and passes a hand over his face, grateful that Mac and Becky got out while the getting was good. Must've had pretty strong gut feelings something bad was about to go down.

Much like the one telling him they're still alive, out there.

"Dr. Akimoto," Hammond addresses an Asian man at the table straightening his tie, "what has your team discovered about the current situation?"

"Our seismologists and geophysicists have confirmed an exponential increase of earthquakes and tremors worldwide, caused by serious instability within the inner and outer cores. It's only a matter of time before the planet breaks up completely."

"How long would you say we have?"

"By our calculations- four months, tops."

A stunned silence follows. Even Jack finds himself unable to come up with a snarky comment.

The end of the world, just like that. And nothing can be done to stop it even with every technological trick at their disposal.

Hammond clears his throat. "Based on the circumstances, I have no choice but to put the contingency plan into effect, as of now. While our offworld sites will continue to be used for backup and evacuation, they're far from suitable for long-term habitation. A fourth site- hereafter designated as New Earth- will therefore be created for permanent settlement of civilians as well as auxiliary personnel and the re-establishment of the SGC."

He turns his attention to the scientists seated at the table. "Dr. Giovanni. As chief planetologist, which world have you decided upon as the most likely candidate?"

A brunette woman stands unsteadily on her feet. "Based on scouting reports from the SG teams, sir, my team's come to the conclusion that P5X-172 is the obvious choice. Planetary conditions are the most favorable, with oceans, two continents and several archipelagos. The ecosphere's comparable to our own, though a light shade of cyan seems to be the predominant color of photosynthesis instead of green. A mild, temperate climate prevails on the northern half of the main continent, the most suitable for settlement."

"Which possesses a fascinating geological phenomenon," Akimoto pipes up. "Two mountain ranges complete with foothills face each other, forming an elliptical valley one hundred fifty miles long by sixty miles wide," sketching in the air with his hands two arcs not quite touching each other, "with gaps at the north and south to allow for a river running through. The valley's large and rather fertile, with the Gate near the exact center."

"Dr. Mkumbe, any biological threats?"

"No contaminants or pollution are currently present in the atmosphere," states an elegant black woman sitting opposite Akimoto. "My team cannot determine if any viral or bacterial threats exist until a more thorough assessment can be done on site."

"Dr. Jackson, what about indigenous populations?"

"No signs of current habitation anywhere on the planet, human or otherwise," Daniel says after consulting his notes. "Which is surprising, considering the presence of the Gate and the suitability of the climate. But there is a significant Ancient outpost in the eastern mountain range, almost a city in and of itself. The location is odd so I'm really looking forward to investigating once everything's set up."

"Thank you, doctors. Major Alvarez," Hammond addresses a Hispanic man at the opposite end of the table, badge of the AFCE on his BDU. "I don't envy you the challenges ahead for you and your team. This is a very big project you're about to undertake, and the time window is relatively short for all you need to accomplish."

"No problem, sir," Alvarez replies with confidence. "Just let me know how much of my materials and equipment can get through that Gate of yours and we'll take care of the rest. I've handled worse conditions prepping air bases in the Middle East."

"Very good. Are there any questions?"

Carter puts her hand up. "Sir, what about defense? If we become distracted during relocating that may leave us wide open to attack by one of the System Lords."

"That's already well in hand, Major. The Asgard have agreed to remotely monitor Earth and our solar system in case of incursion. They've also promised to defend us, should it occur while we're at our most vulnerable during the transition."

Hammond sweeps his gaze over each and every individual in the room, making sure he's got their full attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, much as it pains me to admit it, the situation on this planet has become untenable. Steps must be taken to ensure our survival elsewhere. As of now we're on the clock. Four months to put the contingency plan into effect."

"And then, sir?" Ferretti asks.

"Zero hour," Hammond says firmly. "Complete and total evacuation to New Earth. I don't believe I have to remind everyone present nothing less than the future of our species is at stake. There's a lot that needs doing and not much time to do it in, so every second counts. Dismissed."

"Well, we sure have our work cut out for us," Jack comments dryly as the crowd breaks up.

"We'll get it done, Colonel," Carter asserts. "We've faced threats against far worse odds over the years, and we've always succeeded."

"I admire your confidence, Major. Not that I share it much. Speaking of work," he adds with a cheeky grin as Daniel joins them, "how's it going with the translation stuff? Cracked the code yet?"

He groans. "Not exactly, Jack."

"Getting an Ancient database stuck in my head for a while doesn't count as help, huh?"

Daniel sighs, lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You know it's more complicated than that. It'll take a while besides, since I'm the only one currently proficient in the language. And now I have to personally oversee the packing and removal of artifacts and reference materials to New Earth on top of that."

"Sounds like a full plate."

"You've no idea. I'd kill for a knowledgeable assistant, but haven't found one yet."

Carter frowns. "Really? All the scientists on base, and there isn't another linguist or anthropologist available to share your workload?"

He shrugs. "Everyone else in my department's already assigned to other SG teams, it wouldn't be fair to just yank one of them away from their duties to lend me a hand."

Jack smirks to himself, thinking of Becky. He'll have to hook them up, they'd be perfect for each other. "You never know, Danny. Help might just be around the corner. Now c'mon, let's get something to eat. With luck we can get to the mess before they run out of cake."

****************

Word has already gotten out about the General's decision. Must be Walter's doing, he's squirrelly like that.

The atmosphere in the commissary's more subdued than normal as everyone absorbs the impact. Jack toys with a cup of coffee, automatically tuning out Carter and Daniel as they discuss a topic that's well over his head.

"A small denomination coin for your contemplations, O'Neill." Teal'c says from across the table, without even a trace of anxiety on his impassive features.

"That's a penny for your thoughts," Jack absently counters.

"And what are your thoughts, at this moment? Are you disturbed by the words of General Hammond?"

"Guess I am. To openly acknowledge the world's coming to an end is one thing, even if everyone already knows. But a full-on evacuation through the Gate to another planet- leaving Earth for good, never to return..." Jack shrugs. "Hard to wrap my head around, ya know?"

"A strange saying. Is that not physically impossible?"

He can't help but chuckle. "You can say that. Just makes me feel like we're running away from everything we know and love about this crazy old world, that's all."

"I would indeed feel the same, should my homeworld be in danger. What you must remember is that you will be living to fight another day. Do not fear, O'Neill. Our mutual goal of overthrowing the Goa'uld and ending the slavery of my people can be pursued no matter where you Tau'ri call home."

Jack tilts his head and gives Teal'c a long, speculative stare. He tends to forget the Jaffa warrior's far older than he appears. Wiser, too. "You have a point there, T. Thanks."

A regal nod. "You are welcome."

The sudden jolt surprises everyone, followed seconds later by a few strong, sharp shakes. Beverages slosh around in their glasses. Pictures rattle on the walls. Even the most seasoned marines trade startled looks.

"For crying out loud," Jack mutters. "What the hell was that?"

"A little scary, for one thing," Daniel says. "That felt awfully close."

"Stronger than what we've been getting so far, certainly," Carter agrees, brow furrowed in concern. "The stabilizers under the base could barely compensate."

Jack's gut gives a twist, though not from the meatloaf sandwich. "Let's check it out, campers."

****************

"Only 5.5 on the Richter Scale," Akimoto says, gesturing at the jagged lines on the seismograph installed in the geology lab. "Epicenter's near Dome Rock, little more than thirty miles to the west."

"Not much around that area," Daniel says, consulting a satellite map. "Except perhaps for a few buildings off by themselves. May still be some people out that way, though."

Hammond frowns. "Hard to believe, considering how many abandoned their own communities entirely to seek our protection."

A shiver tickles along Jack's spine as he stares at the map.

Mac and Becky. Could they be out that direction, in trouble? His gut feeling keeps insisting yes, and it hasn't failed him yet.

He picks up a marking pen and starts twirling it between his fingers, unable to otherwise conceal his sudden urgency to depart the confines of Cheyenne Mountain in search of his family.

Hammond's a decent, compassionate guy for a general, which Jack greatly appreciates- and tries hard not to take advantage of, too much. Surely he wouldn't approve of his 2IC leaving the base based on a mere hunch.

Or would he?

Carter eyes his fiddling and purses her lips. "Colonel, aren't you on SAR duty today? Wouldn't hurt to see if anyone needs help." She's pretty perceptive, even if thoughts of that mouth inspire notions of kissing her then and there.

He mentally shakes himself and looks to his CO instead. "Permission to do a recon sweep by helicopter, sir? In case?"

Hammond looks dubious, but nods. "Permission granted. I'll put in a call to Peterson, get the SAR teams assembled."

****************

Jack meets the SAR teams in their helicopters on top of the parking garage they shared with NORAD before the Big Quake, now a designated landing spot for bringing in refugees. He climbs into one and they head westward.

Mid afternoon on a perfect fall day, the sky bright and clear with the air a little chillier than he expected, bright colors of aspen leaves a pleasant contrast against dark evergreens.

Staying under Cheyenne Mountain as long as he has lately it's hard to believe actual seasons are still taking place outside. High above the ground on a day like this it's also hard to believe the whole planet's breaking up under their feet.

He sits in the copilot's seat, rescue vest over his green BDU. Adjusts his sunglasses against the glare from the snow cap of Pike's Peak passing just to his right, catching the shadows of their twin HH-60Gs flickering against the mountain, stark black against the white.

"We're coming up on Dome Rock in a couple minutes, sir," Major John Sheppard says from the pilot's seat. Decent enough guy, with a rakishness and twisted sense of humor rivaling his own. Not to mention unruly hair under the helmet that kinda reminds him of his twin's mullet back in the day. "Should I do a 360 around the quake site?"

"Knock yourself out."

Sheppard expertly circles the helicopter around the formation, which likely earned its moniker due to its smooth, rounded appearance. At first Jack sees only trees, many downed by the tremor. Plus the odd herd of mountain goats, seriously spooked by the noise of their approach.

Nothing to justify the gut feeling that two of the five people most important to him are close by.

And then he sees it. The flash of a flare gun.

He looks to Sheppard, who nods. "Saw it too, sir. At ten o'clock."

The helicopter turns in that direction, reducing its speed for a closer look. Making a slow circle to survey the damage.

At first Jack doesn't see them. Then with a lurch in his stomach he does.

Two bodies sprawled at the bottom of a large pile of rubble, a tall man and a petite woman unconscious or nearly so, though the man's stirring a bit. A makeshift cart holding their stuff's overturned nearby.

"Looks like a flat spot to land by the creek," Sheppard says.

"Radio the other chopper. Tell them we're going in."

The HH-60G gently makes contact with the ground. "Wait for me until I give the signal," Jack orders the marines and medic in the back and they nod assent.

He removes his sunglasses, takes a deep breath before opening the door. Steels himself. Whatever he finds he'll just have to take in stride.

What they're doing in the middle of nowhere he has no idea, yet he's never been so pleased in his life to have his gut feeling proven right. And so dismayed at the same time.

It's definitely them. His brother, his niece. The only blood relatives he has left. Both look awful, bedraggled and thin and so pale, bruises and scratches covering them all over.

Blood trickles from a cut on Mac's forehead. He's drifting in and out of consciousness, slowly blinking up at Jack as if in disbelief.

Becky's even worse. A really nasty vertical gash on her left side, blood flowing freely through the stained remnants of a flannel shirt. She moans softly, fading fast.

He swallows, reminding himself they're not gone yet.

At least Plan B's successfully accomplished, just in time before the world comes to an end. All he has to do now is swoop in and play the snarky hero.

Thank god.

Jack kneels by his brother's side.

"Geez. You two just can't keep out of trouble, can ya?"

Chapter Text

"Coming through! One side! Make a hole!"

Daniel glances up from his book long enough to see two gurneys hurrying towards him complete with medics. He obediently steps aside to let them pass.

The patients look more like civilians than SGC personnel though he can't make out anything other than hair color. A glimpse of auburn oddly reminds him of someone, but damned if he can remember who at the moment.

Jack follows hot on their heels, looking more anxious than Daniel's ever seen him before.

"What's going on?"

"Can't talk now, Danny," he throws over his shoulder. "Later."

The gurneys push through the double doors of the infirmary at the end of the hall and disappear.

Daniel shakes his head, the memory of burnished copper hair lingering in his mind. Why is that?

Oh, well. Maybe it'll come to him later.

****************

Mac must've died and gone to heaven.

He's weightless and there's a beautiful angel hovering over him, wide-set brown eyes and hair a shade brighter than Becky's. A bright light stabs into his eyes.

"Mr. MacGyver? Can you hear me?"

Blinking furiously makes the ghostly afterimages fade and his vision clears. Reality asserts itself into a treatment bed in some kind of infirmary. His angel remains by his side, wearing a white coat over a uniform blouse with Air Force insignia. "There you are," she says. "Good evening."

"What--" He swallows, mouth too dry to say anything else.

"Relax, you're fine. Do you need some water?" He nods and she brings him a plastic cup with a straw. "Sip slowly, now."

The liquid's cool and soothing down his parched throat. "Who are you? What happened to me? Where am I?"

She smiles. "I'm Dr. Fraiser. You and your niece were caught in a landslide. You had a mild concussion and your left wrist was sprained, so you're staying here overnight for observation. As to the last question..." A sly glance to one side and her smile turns impish. "I'll let your brother answer."

A familiar face comes into view, nearly identical save for his left eyebrow bisected by a scar and more gray to his hair. "Jack?"

Who smirks, tucking a yo-yo into a pocket of his green BDU. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Like a ton of rocks fell on top of me," he groans.

Jack chuckles. "Sounds about right."

Mac frowns, vaguely remembering helicopters and combat boots. "That was really you out there, then? Wasn't hallucinating or anything?"

"Nope. That was me, saving the day as always."

"Very funny." Another flash of memory, Becky's pale form, bright red blood against her blue denim shirt.

He struggles to sit up. Jack's hands settle on his shoulders, gentle yet firm. "Whoa, now. Where you goin'?"

"Becky's hurt real bad. I gotta find her."

"She's okay, she's in surgery. Don't worry, the docs here are the best. They'll fix her right up."

Mac raises a skeptical eyebrow, wincing at the slight tug on his forehead from the stitches. "You're not foolin' with me, are ya?"

"Aw c'mon. Would I lie?" His twin affects an innocent expression.

Mac can't help but chuckle. "But seriously, Jack--"

"Becky will be just fine, trust me. She's tough, you know that."

"Yeah. So where are we?"

"Cheyenne Mountain. I work here."

Mac's brow furrows. "You're stationed at NORAD now?"

"Not exactly," with an offhanded shrug.

He knows an evasive tell from his brother when he sees one. He's about to press for details when a brown-haired man in blue surgical scrubs stops in front of his bed. "Colonel O'Neill?" he inquires in a soft lilting accent. "And you must be Mr. MacGyver. Nice to meet a fellow Scotsman."

"Minnesotan, actually," Jack quips before Mac can say anything.

His eyes dart between the brothers in confusion. "Ah, well. I'm Dr. Beckett, I operated on your niece Rebecca. She's out of surgery now. Lost quite a bit of blood, but no major organs were damaged and she's gotten some transfusions. Also a wee bit malnourished and dehydrated so we're taking care of that with IVs."

"She'll be okay, is that what you're saying?"

"Aye, Colonel. She's a strong lass. She'll make a full recovery."

"That's great news, doc. Thanks." Jack grins, lightly slaps Mac on the shoulder. "See? Told ya."

Mac ignores him. "Can we see her yet?"

"We've set her up in Intensive Care. She'll be unconscious for a while longer. You shouldn't see her until tomorrow or the day after, though. She needs a lot of rest."

Fraiser returns, smiling at the other doctor. "Thanks for operating while I was busy earlier, Carson. I know you're just visiting."

"Oh, no trouble at all. I'll be returning to Alpha later tonight." A respectful nod of his head. "Good evening, gentlemen. Pleasure to meet you."

"All right, Colonel," she says briskly. "Visiting hours are over. You can pick your brother up tomorrow when he's discharged."

Jack grins down at the petite woman. "Sure thing, doc. Hey," with a playful nudge to Mac's shoulder, "do what she tells ya, okay? If you don't she'll break out the big needles, and trust me, you wouldn't like that." He gives a mock shudder.

"You should remember to follow your own advice in future," she dryly counters. She waves her hands in a shooing motion. "Now go on. Get."

He smirks, throwing them both a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am. See you guys in the morning."

Mac sighs. "Sorry about my brother. He's always been kinda nuts."

Fraiser chuckles. "I'm used to it. Jack and I are old friends." She makes an adjustment to his IV. "I'm going off shift but my nurses will be checking up on you and your niece from time to time. Is there anything you need right now, Mr. MacGyver?"

"Please, just MacGyver. Or you can call me Mac." He grins, inviting her to use the latter.

She cocks her head, clearly amused. She's awfully pretty. "All right- Mac. I'm Janet. Time to sleep now, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

A sigh of relief as his eyes close. Plan B worked. He and Becky made it to Colorado Springs after all. No idea what happens now, but at least they're all together.

Thank god.

****************

"Colonel O'Neill, are you serious? You want to read your brother into the Stargate program now?"

"Don't see why not, sir. Even the civilians upstairs will find out about it soon enough. Plus I think he'll be useful."

Hammond leans back in his chair, steeples his fingers. "You may be right. His unique skills could come in handy with the contingency plan."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "You've heard of him?"

Hammond smiles. "Don't tell your brother, but I've known Peter Thornton since we both served in Vietnam. Played a lot of golf together between meetings over the years, whenever we visited Washington at the same time. I've also been aware of MacGyver's reputation in the intelligence community, for doing what he does without using guns. You may or may not be surprised to learn we've been holding onto a copy of his dossier for a while now, on the off chance we needed his unusual brand of problem-solving in the program."

"I figured we might, sir. No surprise to me at all."

"And you want to read in your niece as well. Rebecca, is it?"

"Yes, sir. She's a linguist, a really good one. Also with high-level security clearance at the Phoenix Foundation, for her past diligence and discretion. Thought she might be able to help Daniel out."

"I remember Pete mentioning her now. Quite the helper when she was younger. Very well, you have my permission. I'll have a chat with them myself once they're settled. Not a word of this conversation before then, hear me Colonel?"

"Understood, General. And thank you."

Now for the hard part. Breaking the news to his skeptical brother that aliens really do exist.

Easier said than done.

****************

Buried alive, never again to see the light of day. Cold, seeping into the very bones. Pain. So much pain...

She screams.

"Hush, now," a woman's voice, soft and soothing. "Take it easy. It's okay." Gentle hands on her hair, smoothing away her fears.

"Mom?" she murmurs, only half awake.

"Sorry, honey. She's not here. But you're safe now, you can relax. I've got you."

She can't keep her eyes open. Not that she wants to, particularly. "Tell me what to do," she mumbles.

"Rest easy. Sleep."

She does.

****************

"It's not a coma," Janet insists the next day. "More like an extended sleep so she can get the rest her body desperately needs. Same as anyone else who's been through a lot of trauma. She'll wake herself up eventually."

Jack's heart goes out to his poor sweetheart of a niece, looking so pale and quiet. Auburn hair like her mom's fans out over the pillow, the slow rise and fall of her chest and steady beeping from the monitor the only signs she's still alive.

He winces at the oxygen tube in her nose and IVs protruding from her arms providing everything she needs. Not that different from seeing anyone else around here in a similar condition, and yet somehow it is.

His brother's not doing too well either- emotionally, anyway. But Jack's good at diversionary tactics, and he's got the perfect distraction in mind to keep Mac from losing himself in worry and self-blame.

Who is, unfortunately, already halfway there. "It's my fault," he insists, gesturing at Becky's unconscious form. "I should've run faster, gotten her out of the way in time."

"Come off it. No way you would've known that landslide was gonna happen after the tremor. Stop beating yourself up over things you can't control, huh?"

"You don't get it!" Mac finally snaps, pulling away from him. "I'm supposed to keep her safe. It's all my fault. If she never wakes up--" He stops and takes deep breaths, carefully relaxing his clenched jaw.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Take it easy, willya? Becky's a trooper. She'll wake up when she's good and ready, not before."

"He's right, Mac," Janet adds in a soothing tone. "Her vital signs are stable for now. Worrying and blaming yourself in the meantime won't help her get any better. Colonel, why don't you take your brother away for a while? We'll let you know immediately if anything happens."

"Terrific idea, doc," Jack says, deftly steering him away from the bed. "I'll show you my quarters, 'cause not to put it too bluntly, you look like hell and you stink besides."

Mac glares at him. "Gee, thanks a lot."

"Just saying. You'll feel better after you've had a bite to eat and get clean, that's all."

"Jack, I'm fine. I don't need--" As if on cue, his stomach starts to rumble. "Oops."

Jack chuckles. "C'mon, allow me to show you the epicurean delights of our commissary."

****************

After grabbing prepackaged sandwiches from the mess Jack leads Mac down an elevator, through the maze of corridors.

Gray concrete and metal with pipes and safety markings, painted lines on the floor. Military utilitarian chic, too top secret for a photo shoot in the pages of Architectural Digest.

Scientists and uniformed personnel either nod or salute in greeting as they pass, before doing the inevitable double-take and murmur to each other.

Jack rolls his eyes. Just peachy. He's used to being solo for so long, now he has to remember his brother's along for the ride.

Hardly anyone knows he's a twin, save for Hammond and anyone else with clearance enough to access his personnel file. Because of his past Black Ops missions he prefers to keep this side of his family life private as a precaution, to the point of even hiding photos on team nights.

But now Mac and Becky are fully in the picture, so to speak. They're not going away any time soon.

Not that he wants them to, either.

What the hell. It's the end of the world, right? Time he made some introductions.

But that's for another day. Better to wait until Becky gets discharged, and both have the opportunity to get acclimated.

Finally they reach his private quarters on Level 25. Rather basic all things considered but he doesn't require much else, even with the addition of boxes filled with stuff retrieved from the house after the quakes started for good. Still, he has the essentials: king-sized bed to accommodate his rangy frame, bookcase containing both favorite novels and technical manuals, TV and DVD player on the dresser with gaming console and stack of Simpsons episodes.

He sends Mac off to shower in the one privilege of rank he enjoys, a private bathroom. About ten minutes later the door opens to a cloud of steam and his brother steps out, running a towel through unruly blonde hair before tossing it in the hamper. His infirmary garb has been replaced by a spare set of green BDUs from the dresser, sleeves rolled up over a black long-sleeved undershirt.

"Better now?"

A rueful smile. "Yeah. Thanks for the threads."

"No problem." Jack opens another drawer, takes out a bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers. Bit too early to be drinking- and on-duty, yet- but for what he's about to say he needs the liquid courage. Even though Mac's done covert work and understands the necessity of keeping secrets this still isn't gonna be easy.

He sets them on the small table by the sandwiches, pulls up a couple chairs. Pours a double shot in each glass before pushing one over to Mac.

Who grimaces. "You know I still don't drink."

"After what I'm about to tell ya, you're gonna need this. Trust me." Jack lifts his glass. "Mud in your eye, as Harry would say."

"To our princess," Mac counters. "Hope she'll be okay."

"She will. Don't worry about it."

They clink glasses. The whiskey burns a path down his throat, settling his nerves.

"Obvious you're not working at NORAD," Mac says after a few minutes of contemplative silence. "Way too far underground for that."

"Nope. Got another gig going on here. Super top secret. Above your clearance at Phoenix, even."

"Huh." A pause. "So are you gonna read me in, or will you have to kill me afterwards?"

"Depends how open your mind is these days."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"Just my day job." And proceeds to tell him everything.

Afterwards Mac reaches for the glass and takes a big swallow, eyes wide. Jack smirks to himself.

"No way. You're fooling with me. Gotta be."

"Nope."

Another swallow. "So. Aliens are real?"

"Yep."

"Wormhole travel to other planets, starships, weird tech?"

"Uh-huh."

"Time travel, alternate universes, the works?"

"All the clichés. Yeah."

Mac shakes his head. "Man, Becky's gonna love this. Exactly the kinda stuff she reads about."

Jack chuckles. "Ya think?"

"So why tell me this now?"

"You know the Big Quake, right?"

Mac grimaces. "Know it? Becky and I saw it happen."

Jack feels his jaw drop. "...No fooling?"

"Nope. Ironically enough, the day before we'd attended a lecture by two Phoenix scientists on the San Andreas Fault. We both got such a strong gut feeling something bad was about to go down we packed and split that afternoon, staying overnight at a cabin owned by the Foundation in the San Gabriel Mountains. Everything was fine until early the next morning when the first earthquake happened. The second hit a few hours later, even stronger. We couldn't believe what we were witnessing- the L.A. Basin sinking right in front of us, the tidal waves as the ocean came in..." He shudders and closes his eyes, lapsing into silence.

Jack sips at his whiskey, allowing Mac a moment to regain his composure. "Bet the trip here wasn't exactly a picnic either."

"You don't know the half of it. Not something I'm gonna forget for a long time, ya know? Neither will Becky."

"Huh. Good thing you had Plan B to fall back on, then." He remembers discussing it with Mac right after the funeral fourteen years ago. Their own private contingency plan.

Plan "B" for Becky. Keep her safe no matter what.

"Yeah. Considering the mess outside there's nowhere else to stay but with you. This is the only home we got, now." A glance around his quarters. "Such as it is. Where we gonna sleep, anyway?"

"They'll fix up something for you around here. Don't worry about it."

Mac groans. "Good, 'cause I'm wasted. Could crash for a week straight."

"At least." Jack takes a good long look at his twin. The dark circles under his eyes, the haunted expression. The restless tapping of his fingers against the glass.

If their sister Allison were alive she'd diagnose post-adrenaline crash coupled with residual shock and anxiety, or he'll eat his yo-yo.

Gotta give some latitude, though, to a guy like that. Who sees his world collapsing around him, and still has the courage to keep going.

Not that anyone in their family- even Becky, bless her heart- ever lacked for bravery and the willingness to persevere.

Mac sighs and leans forward, resting his arms on his legs. "Ya know, before the transmissions stopped the radio was full of speculation that something's wrong with the planet itself, the Big Quake symptom of an even bigger problem. Any scientists here taking a crack at it?"

"The geologists already got a timetable worked out. The world's coming to an end four months from now."

"No fooling?"

"No fooling. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Real shame, that's for sure. All that training, know-how and technology at our disposal, and nothing either of us can do about it."

"Yeah." Jack frowns and stares into his glass, contemplating the amber liquid. Put that way, it is a real damn shame the two of them can't put their heads together and stop it.

Silence follows.

Finally Mac clears his throat. "So is there an escape hatch, or something? No way we're gonna get off Earth otherwise."

Jack nods. "That's exactly what the Stargate is. Got a planet picked out, room enough to accommodate everyone, even civilians. Form a brand-new settlement somewhere else in the galaxy. Live to fight another day."

"What do you need me for, then? I assume you're reading me in so I can help, though I don't see how."

"C'mon. You know. It's that talent you got, the way you think outside the box. You see solutions to problems before they even happen."

"Never thought of it that way before. Always assumed it was just sheer luck and making the most of what's around me."

"Well whatever it is, we could sure use it in making the most of what we've got. Allocating resources, thinking ahead, alternative solutions. That sort of thing."

"I take it they don't come to you flyboys for answers, then?"

"Course not. We got real live scientists for that. Me, I just stumble around and make lame jokes."

"Figures. Always was your strong suit." Mac cocks his head, smirks a little.

Jack rolls his eyes, but lets him have the last word this time. He can be generous like that when it suits him, and his brother's been through hell to get here. "Eat your sandwich already. Not good to be drinking on an empty stomach, ya know."

"Yes, mother." They share a smile at the familiar banter.

The phone rings and Jack picks it up. "O'Neill."

"Colonel?" A female voice. "Nurse Fitzpatrick in the infirmary. Just wanted to let you know your niece is waking up now, sir."

"Great. We're on our way." He hangs it up, grins at his brother. "See? Told ya."

****************

Warmth. Softness. Sound.

"Dr. Fraiser, she's coming to." 

"Becky? Becky, can you hear me?"

She groans as a bright light stabs into her eyes, the spots clearing once it retreats. A petite woman in uniform with wide-set brown eyes and auburn hair smiles as she straightens, tucking a penlight into a pocket of her white coat. "Hi, Becky. I'm Dr. Fraiser but you can call me Janet. How are you feeling?"

"Good. I guess." She licks at dry lips. "Where am I? What happened to me?"

"You and your uncle were in a landslide, then rescued and airlifted here to Cheyenne Mountain. You were operated on yesterday but everything went well and you should make a full recovery. Any other questions?"

"Where are my glasses? Things are a little blurry."

"Right here, honey." A nurse hands them to her.

Everything comes back into focus. Becky blinks up at the two familiar men anxiously watching her from either side of the treatment bed, identical rugged features and velvet-brown eyes though different hairstyles. Their green-and-black uniforms sport shoulder patches of a kind she's never seen before.

She manages a weak smile. "I must be on some really good drugs. I'm seeing double!"

Jack chuckles. "That's our girl. Said she'd be just fine, didn't I?" he remarks to Mac who shakes his head, looking a bit battered himself but otherwise fine.

"You okay, Unc?"

"Doing better, now that you're awake," tenderly pushing hair away from her forehead. "How about you?"

"Tired. Kinda floaty, too."

"Always did have your head in the clouds." Jack reaches to gently stroke her cheek with a long finger. "Hey, kiddo. Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Uncle Jack."

"You're on some pretty strong painkillers right now," Janet remarks, checking one of her IVs. "We'll start tapering off before you're discharged in a few days' time."

"Speaking of--" raising her head slightly, searching for a clock.

"It's 1730. 5:30 in the afternoon, to you guys." Jack offers helpfully. "Talk about sleeping in late. I know you're a night-owl and all that, but this is something else."

Becky rolls her eyes, knowing from experience that teasing is his way of showing affection. "For crying out loud, cut me some slack already. Hasn't Mac told you what we've been through to get here?"

"Sorry, Beck. Just glad you're okay." He wipes at his eyes.

Mac smirks. "Something in the air, huh?"

Jack shoots him a glare. "Don't you start."

Becky can't believe they're about to bicker right over her bed. It's official, both of her uncles are nuts.

She opens her mouth to nip it in the bud but weariness hits instead and she sags against the pillows, groaning.

Janet steps in. "That's enough. You two should leave now and let her get some rest. Same applies to you, Mac."

He rubs the back of his neck with a rueful expression. "Well now that you mention it, I could use some shut-eye."

"C'mon then," Jack says briskly, "let's go see where they've got you guys fixed up."

Just before she goes completely under Becky feels two pairs of lips gently pressing against her cheek and forehead.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," Mac whispers in one ear.

"See ya tomorrow, Beck," Jack murmurs in the other. "Glad you're here."

Glad to be here indeed. Safe. Warm. Loved.

She closes her eyes and lets the healing darkness take her away.

****************

Jack returns to his quarters alone after getting Mac settled in on Level 15. Home sweet home at the end of the world.

He approaches the two framed photos on the bookshelf. One a candid team shot taken at a festival on P2B-608, back in the Program's early days. Remembers the locals fascinated by Daniel's camera, the relief at not being pursued back to the Gate by arrows or energy blasts or whatever for once. No strings attached, just time to sit back and enjoy themselves. A rare occurrence in this universe to say the least.

He touches the other gently, a treasured photo of himself and Sara with Charlie at his son's very first softball game. All he'll allow himself to hold onto of that chapter in his life.

After a moment's thought he starts digging into a box of mementos, coming up with another frame. Becky flanked by himself and Mac, wide grins and arms around each other as they mugged for the camera the day she received her first doctorate.

He puts it with the other pictures, making adjustments until all three are equally spaced, side by side.

Stepping back, he stares at them.

And smiles.

****************

"Jack!" Daniel has to jog a bit to catch up to his longer strides. At last, the only time he's been able to get Jack's attention apart from meals, briefings and offworld action.

"Hey, Danny. How's it hanging?"

"Busy. You haven't bothered me at the lab lately. What are you up to?"

Jack shrugs, too casually for his liking. "Been here and there. Up and down. Doing this and that."

"Sam says you're visiting the infirmary a lot the past few days. That's the last place in the whole base you usually like to be." Daniel looks down at the floor, scuffing the toe of his boot against the concrete. "Not to pry or anything...I mean, if it was something serious you'd tell us first, right?"

"Gee Danny, I'm really touched by your concern. Didn't know you cared."

Daniel scowls. This is too hard. Why did he have to draw the short straw? "C'mon, Jack. You know what I mean. Sam, Teal'c and I...we're worried about you."

"Nothing's goin' on, I promise. Tip-top shape, you betcha. Fit as a fiddle."

"Then why are you hanging around the infirmary, if it's not about your health?"

"You're just too curious for your own good, ya know. Keep that up and it might bite you in the rear someday."

Unbelievable. For a guy who can be both honest and snarky at the same time he sure knows how to evade a direct question. "Jack..."

"Ah!" Holding up the dreaded I'm-the-Colonel-and-I've-had-enough finger, which Daniel hates. "What I do off-duty is my own business. Besides, what is it they say? If you have to ask you'll never know?"

"Fine," Daniel grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Keep your damn secrets. Thought after the rogue NID stuff you were done playing spy, that's all."

Jack grins, actually patting him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Danny-boy. It's nothing like that. In fact, you got dinner plans day after tomorrow, say around 1800?"

He blinks. "Well no, I don't think so. Just the usual with you, Sam and Teal'c."

"Great. Got a couple people I want you to meet."

"Here on base?" He's confused, not an uncommon occurrence when dealing with the likes of Jack O'Neill.

"Yep. No need to dress up. Pass the word along to Sam and T, would ya? Thanks."

"Whatever," Daniel sighs, watching his friend saunter down the hallway.

Next time he'll insist that Sam do the asking.

****************

Their assigned quarters are pretty basic- no more than two sets of beds, dressers and built-in closets, with a round table and two chairs. Communal restroom and shower facilities. Not that much different than dorm rooms back in college, right down to their names on the door: A. MacGyver, R. Grahme.

Except there are no windows.

With stitches itching under the bandage on her left side, Becky sits back in bed and tries to lose herself in reading, carefully not thinking about the tons of concrete and rock overhead ready to come crashing down at any time.

The occasional tremor under her feet certainly isn't helping.

Janet discharged her from the infirmary the previous day, with medication bottles and a printout full of advice and exercises which Becky does religiously, having picked up on the fact that whatever people do on this base they're always fighting-fit and mission-ready. She wasn't in bad shape at all before the Big Quake, but after her recent ordeal she'll have to work hard at restoring her health, albeit slowly.

A courtesy tap on the door, then it opens a fraction. "Anybody home?"

"I'm in here, Uncle Jack."

He strolls inside, hands casually stuffed into pockets, grinning in that way he does when he's got mischief planned. "Hey, kiddo. What'cha doing?"

"Resting, as per Janet's orders. Why do you ask?"

He purses his lips, rocking back on his heels. "Just wanna know if you're up to taking a walk. Got something special to show ya."

"Sure, but we'll have to go slow. Almost a week out from surgery, you know."

"I'll make sure we have frequent rest stops."

"Where's Mac?"

"He'll meet up with us in a bit." Holds out his hand. "C'mon, Beck. Trust me, you'll love it."

****************

She does. It's astounding, stupendous, fantastic. No other words could possibly apply.

Wormhole generators. Space travel. Descendants of displaced humans on other planets. Honest-to-god aliens, both friends and foes. Weird technology. Adventure and mysteries throughout the galaxy.

And so much more.

Of course there are plenty of dangers out there- the universe isn't exactly a friendly place- but it's balanced by so many wonders at the same time.

Just like the stories she reads, only loads better 'cause it's all real.

No surprise she goes a little nuts over the whole thing. Even Mac's impressed though he tries to hide it in front of his brother.

Jack sports a smug grin all the while, like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

It's official. She has the coolest uncles. Ever.

But then she has to sit down so he tells her the rest, as serious as he knows how to be.

The Earth is dying, due to unexpectedly high levels of instability within the inner and outer cores. Makes a certain amount of sense given the increasing frequency of quakes and tsunamis worldwide.

Nobody knows whether the planet will implode or explode, but fortunately they have a way out before it happens, through the Stargate. Colonizing another planet, ensuring the human race has a second chance.

Little over three and a half months of preparation left until Zero Hour.

After that, the end. And the beginning of something new.

She nods, soberly. "I understand. What can I do to help?"

****************

At lunchtime the base CO stops by Mac and Becky's table to introduce himself. George Hammond is rather avuncular for career military yet clearly commands the respect and loyalty of those serving under him, including civilians. Reminds Becky strongly of Pete in many ways.

"I know it's a lot to take in," he says. "I can barely wrap my head around it sometimes myself. But according to Colonel O'Neill you both have skills, adaptability and resilience that will serve you well if you wish to formally join the program after we settle on New Earth. God knows we need all the help we can get, and you would be welcome additions to the SGC."

"Well, we appreciate the kind offer, General," Mac replies. "We'll certainly give it some thought."

****************

Hours later they meet Jack again for dinner with his team, designated SG-1. His work family in a manner of speaking.

Becky recalls one late night four years ago when Jack paid an unexpected visit. This must've been what he mentioned- without really mentioning- during their informal Q&A session on the couch.

Samantha Carter is amazing. Air Force Major and Ph.D. in Astrophysics, Jack's 2IC on the team. Beautiful and brilliant.

"Call me Sam, please," she says with a bright grin and twinkling sapphire eyes as she offers her hand.

"Name's MacGyver."

She blinks at him. "First name or last?"

"Yep."

Jack just shrugs. "Don't look at me. It's a family thing."

Equally impressive is Teal'c, from the planet Chulak. A genuine alien warrior, tall and dark-skinned and built like a linebacker. With a gold mark on his forehead and a grave, courteous manner about him.

"An honor, to meet family of O'Neill," he says in a deep voice. A solemn bow, fist to chest.

"The honor is ours," Becky replies with a bow of her own. She's always thought manners to be important, and her anthropological training's only reinforced that belief.

He gives a small, pleased nod in return.

Jack checks his watch, shaking his head. "Late again," he mutters under his breath. Must be referring to the absent member of their four-person team.

Who arrives in a hurry. "Sorry, Jack. I know I'm late, no need to rag on me about it. I was right in the middle of translating that cuneiform tablet we found on P3O-255 and--"

He stops. Stares straight at her with wide blue eyes. Mouth opening and closing silently.

She stands, her own jaw dropping.

No way. No freaking way.

It can't be him.

****************

Unbelievable. It can't be her.

How is this even possible? What are the odds?

She swallows, pushing up her glasses with a finger. He absently repeats the gesture with his own.

"Daniel?"

"Becky," he breathes.

And then together, at the same time: "What are you doing here?"

The silence that follows is rich and strange.

Jack asks innocently, "So I take it you two have already met?"

"In Seattle, at a linguistics conference--" she says, her gaze never leaving Daniel's.

"--Six years ago. We met in an elevator--"

"--Sounds like a cliché I know, but we really did."

"She defended my theories in public from this jerk of a guy--"

"--And he defended me at a party later from advances by the same jerk- what was his name?"

"Sanderson," Daniel says, mouth curving in a wry half-smile. The guy who'd ruined his previous academic career. And inadvertently paved the way for this one.

"Oh god, yeah." She grimaces. "What a cretin. After that we just kinda banded together for the rest of the conference."

The third guy at the table- who must be another uncle, he looks almost exactly like Jack save for the hair- snaps his fingers. "Of course! This must be who you were talking about back then. The archaeologist who gave you the necklace with the hummingbird."

Daniel blinks. "You still have it?"

"Uh-huh. Had a feeling I should bring it with me when we left." Becky pulls the chain out from under her black t-shirt. "Had a feeling I should wear it today, too."

"May I?" Sam tips the pendant up for her and Teal'c to take a closer look at the gold hummingbird dancing amid silver swirls. "Northwest Native American design, right? Very nice."

Teal'c nods his agreement. "Indeed."

Daniel shrugs, self-consciously. "On impulse. Sort of a friendship gift."

"And I gave you that handmade notebook," Becky recalls, "with the raven on the cover."

"Which came in handy. I still have it, with my other journals."

"I'm glad." A shy, sweet smile, just like he remembers.

"So what happened after that?" Sam asks, clearly charmed by this meet-cute story.

Daniel blinks at her. "What? Oh. We kept in touch. Corresponded by email for a year or so."

Becky nods. "I expected you to visit after that symposium in Denver you mentioned. Only you never showed up. It's like you disappeared completely off the face of the Earth, or something." Her delicate shoulders slump. "I wondered about you a lot after that. Where you were, what you were doing. If you were at all happy. If I was ever going to see you again."

"Well, I kinda did disappear for a while," he admits, rubbing the back of his head.

"Literally," Jack cuts in, "after our first gig together offworld five years ago."

Becky shoots him a look, as does his twin. "But that must've been not long after--"

"It was," sharing a pointed glance of his own with Daniel that means Don't tell them it was supposed to be a suicide mission.

"I decided to stay behind on Abdyos, the planet we found on the other side of the Stargate- they've been read in, right?" Daniel asks, looking to Jack for confirmation. "There was nothing left for me on Earth. Or so I thought at the time."

"I see." She looks a little hurt at his words and he feels a twinge of guilt. In all the excitement surrounding Catherine's recruitment, the opening of the Stargate and the mission to Abdyos he'd completely forgotten his promise to visit her. A day doesn't pass in which he regrets losing Sha're, but there must be a way he can make it up to Becky now.

"I'm so sorry," he begins, as gently and sincerely as he knows how. "I never realized--"

Jack clears his throat. "While this is so damn fascinating kids, why don't we save it for another time? Dinner's getting cold and we wouldn't want to miss out on dessert, either. There's a rumor it's chocolate cake."

Becky's eyes light up. "Chocolate? Ooh, yeah."

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

****************

The rest of dinner passes by in a blur, at least for Daniel.

Out of all the people he ever thought to meet in the SGC- at the end of the world, yet- for some reason he hadn't been expecting Becky.

Although in retrospect he really should have, given the trajectory of her studies at the time and how well their ideas meshed in Seattle. He has no idea why her name had never come up as a linguist before but he's glad she's here nonetheless. Maybe someday he can convince Jack she belongs in the Stargate Program once they've moved to New Earth.

Funny coincidence, though. In Seattle she'd mentioned her uncles, one a problem-solver and the other an Air Force colonel. Who turned out to be Jack, of all people.

Amazing, in a universe full of amazing things. Like fate had finally drawn them together.

Has he been given a chance to work with someone he once thought a kindred spirit?

He certainly hopes so.

Chapter Text

On the whole, people are taking the end-of-the-world thing in a surprisingly calm and civilized manner. Grateful to be someplace safe where they can stay warm, clean and fed on a regular basis, even if underground. Patiently waiting for someone in authority to give direction when needed.

Then again, they haven't been briefed yet on the caveat of Oh, and we're also evacuating everyone soon to a new planet through a wormhole. That should be interesting.

Becky moves along the rows of civilian refugees sheltered on Levels 5-7, one of several assistants to Janet and her crew as they check on everyone's physical and mental needs. Not much different than her volunteer work as a teenager at the Challengers Club, where many street kids found receiving help marginally more acceptable from a peer than some nosy adult.

She distributes blankets and pillows. Offers water bottles and sandwiches from the small mess on Level 4, which has been dedicated exclusively to feeding the refugees. Looks after small children when parents need a break. Patiently listens to stories of the worsening conditions outside, the trials and tribulations endured along the way.

And privately counts her blessings on having arrived with Mac in a timely manner despite the hardships.

For the past couple weeks Becky's been working around the base as an all-purpose assistant, similar to the fetching and carrying she did at Phoenix under Mac's guardianship. Nothing too strenuous yet just enough work to make her feel as if she's contributing something to the effort.

"Though I really wish I could do more," she confides to Janet during a break.

"I understand. It's great you want to help out, but you still need to take it easy for a while. Jack always wants to get back in the game as soon as he's patched up, never a wise idea in my professional opinion."

"True. He's pretty impatient when it comes to recovering from injuries. Uncle Mac, too."

"I'm not surprised. You seem to be more sensible in that regard than either of them, based on how patient you were in the infirmary."

A self-depreciating shrug. "I try to be. Sort of runs in the family, my mom was like that. Whenever my uncles got into trouble as kids, as the older sister she always had to pick up the pieces afterwards."

"Bet it happened all the time, knowing Jack," Janet says with a wry smile. "He keeps insisting it's Daniel's fault whenever they get into trouble offworld. Fortunately I know better."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." They share a conspiratorial chuckle.

"Talking about me, huh?" Jack slouches against a nearby wall, arms folded, mouth turned up in a familiar smirk.

Janet offers him a serene smile. "Actually Becky was just telling me about your sister, Colonel. What brings you up here?"

"Got a permanent assignment for my niece, right up her alley. She cleared for duty yet, doc?"

Becky fidgets as Janet eyes her clinically. "If the assignment's what I think it is, then I'd say yes. Everything looked good at her last follow-up and she's a whole lot stronger. I don't see why she can't have a full-time duty, provided she doesn't push herself too hard."

"Terrific. C'mon, Beck."

Becky blinks at them in confusion. "Um, are you guys sure? I mean, I know you still need help here, I'd be willing to stick around."

Janet gives her a reassuring smile and a pat on the arm. "I appreciate your concern but we'll be fine. If need be I'll get Cassie to help, she misses talking to kids her own age."

"You could ask Mac to help too," Jack suggests, "if he can be torn away from meetings about the new settlement or swapping maintenance-related horror stories with Siler. They're becoming fast friends."

She cocks her head. "You know, that's a good idea. Thanks."

"I get 'em every now and then. I'll pass along the word downstairs. And for the record," he adds with a smirk, "it's Daniel's fault we get into trouble. Every time."

"Whatever you say, Colonel. See you both later." Janet catches Becky's eye and winks.

She returns the wink, noting for future reference the gleam in the doctor's eyes whenever Mac's name is mentioned.

Most intriguing. Wouldn't be bad to have her for an aunt someday. Not bad at all.

****************

Down to Level 11, where with her newly-issued base ID and handprint it's easy to pass the secondary checkpoint and switch to another elevator.

The corridors on Level 18 are bustling with scientists, either working in their labs or chatting in small groups in a lounge area and along the corridors. Jack tenses a bit but Becky immediately relaxes, finding the eclectic atmosphere of this intellectual oasis amid military drab as familiar as that within the Foundation.

Officers of all branches often came to call at Phoenix, seeking assistance in one classified matter or another. Never anything like this, though. Then again this was probably even above Pete's clearance, and him Director of Operations.

Jack stops at one particular door. "Keep behind me, willya?"

"Why?" she asks suspiciously, certain he's about to involve her in mischief.

"It's a surprise."

"For whom?"

"You'll see." He enters a code on the keypad and grasps the knob. "Hey, Danny. How's tricks?"

****************

Daniel sighs in exasperation. Unbelievable. To think he threw Jack out only a few hours ago with his destructive yo-yo and here he comes barging in again, without a shred of contrition.

He should change the entry code, if not for the fact Jack will most likely get Sam to crack it for him anyway.

"Look, whatever you want, turn around right now and leave. I have a lot on my plate today and you'll only be a distraction. I'd rather you not get in my way."

Hand on his heart, Jack adopts an expression of affronted innocence. "Who me? Hey, I just came by to offer my help--"

An audible snort from somewhere in his direction. He rolls his eyes and makes an odd shushing motion behind his back.

Daniel frowns at the unexpected sound, though he agrees with the sentiment. "Help? Jack, the last time you were here you broke two tablets and completely upset my cataloging system. Why on earth do you think you can help me this time?"

"Because I have that one thing you really, really, really need. Most of all."

Why does he have to be so infuriating? "What I need is peace and quiet so I can get this done in time. You know we've got a deadline now. I don't need--"

"An assistant?" He reaches behind him, pulls out--

Becky. Who gives a tentative smile and wave. "Um, hi."

"Jack, what is she doing here?"

"I just told you. She's your assistant. Wasn't that what you said you really needed, a few weeks ago?"

"Well, yeah. But I didn't mean--"

Her smile fades. "You don't want me here?"

"No! I mean yes. You're welcome to visit. It's just that, um," adjusting his glasses, "with everything going on I'm afraid I can't spare much time for you, that's all."

"I get it. You don't want me around." Her shoulders slump. A tear trickles down her cheek.

"Easy now, Beck. I'm sure he didn't mean to make you cry," Jack soothes, shooting him a patented glare. "Danny, how could you?"

Daniel looks down at the floor, incapable of meeting the reproach in the eyes of his friend and teammate.

Or the despair in Becky's. Which shames him all the more.

He's been secretly hoping she would help him, so why is he pushing her away like this?

What's wrong with him? What is it about her that's making him so clumsy all of a sudden?

"I, um..." He swallows. "I'm sorry, Becky. I really am. It's just that it's a lot of hard work and you're recovering from surgery, so I thought--"

Jack holds up a hand. "Say no more, Janet already cleared her for duty. She'll be okay as long as she gets a chance to rest every so often. I don't think she'll get in too much trouble among all these books and rocks and whatnot."

"Artifacts," Becky corrects him. "They're artifacts."

"There. See? She knows what she's talkin' about. Why, with any luck she might even help keep you on task," he adds with a perfectly straight face though dark eyes twinkle with humor, "so you don't get distracted reading every book in sight instead of packing them. However," giving his niece a playful nudge, "I can't guarantee that she won't. Never could resist an open book, could ya Beck? Even as a little kid."

Her cheeks redden. "Aw c'mon. Why do you have to bring that up now?"

"Just sayin'. So what's it gonna be, Danny-boy? Ya want her for an assistant or not?"

Jack's right, and he damned well knows it. Daniel really needs the help, and Becky's more than qualified for the job.

She looks tentatively in his direction and he finds himself melting at the naked hope and yearning in her eyes. There's no way he can resist.

"Sure, Becky. I mean, if you really want to."

A relieved grin lights up her face. "I do. Thanks."

Jack beams at them. "My work here is done. I'll pass word on to the General, he'll get everything sorted with authorizations and stuff. Now, niece of mine," he adds in a mock-serious tone. "I'm placing my archaeologist under your care. You're responsible for him when we're not on missions. So make sure he remembers to sleep every now and then and actually consumes more than just coffee, take him out for regular walks, pat him on the head when he's been a good boy--"

Daniel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, Jack? You make it sound like I'm a dog or something."

"There's an idea. Maybe I oughta find you a collar and leash for missions, we might not get into trouble so often."

Becky rolls her eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud. That's disgusting. Isn't there someone else you can go pester so we can get some work done?"

Jack smirks. "You betcha. I knew you two kids would be perfect together so I'll leave you to it. See ya at dinner."

She shakes her head as the door closes behind him. "Sorry about that. Sometimes his brand of wackiness can be hard to handle."

"No need to apologize," Daniel says. "He's been that way since the day we met. I'm used to it by now."

"So am I." They share a look of fond exasperation. "You know he probably thinks he's playing matchmaker, right?"

"Yeah. All the same I really am glad you're here. There's a lot of cataloging and packing left to do, and with my busy schedule I'd be hard-pressed to have everything ready for transfer before the deadline by myself. I'm afraid we've got our work cut out for us."

"I don't mind. Anything I can do to help."

An awkward silence follows, weighted with memories of a certain fateful weekend.

Finally Becky's mouth curves up in a sly grin. "So, Dr. Jackson. How does it feel to have your crazy theories proven right after all?"

He laughs, the tension melting away. "You know, I've never had the time to think about it much? Pretty good, I guess. You want to have coffee or something before getting started?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," gazing wide-eyed around the room, taking in every detail. "This is amazing. Are all of these artifacts from other planets?"

"Mostly. A lot more are in storage, of course. But I keep my favorites here. For example, there's this glazed stone bowl from the Selenitic Age of the D'ni people on P4M-724. And these cuneiform tablets from a ruined temple on P3O-255, the Goa'uld must've picked up some Sumerians in Mesopotamia, probably around 4000 BCE. In fact, it's a wonder they managed to hold on to their writing system at all, since it's Goa'uld policy to prohibit literacy and..."

It's like they've picked up exactly where they left off years ago.

Only better, since now they can work together as colleagues- even equals, perhaps- as well as friends.

****************

Daniel can tell there's a resemblance between Becky and her uncles, now that he has a basis for comparison. Only it's subtle- the set of the eyes, a certain cocking of the eyebrows, a wry twist to the mouth. A softer touch to the rugged features overall, slightly rounder in the cheeks and chin.

She hasn't changed much. Her petite form, maybe a touch shorter even than Janet. The blue eyes a shade lighter than his own, clear winter sky. Hair the color of burnished copper (so it was her he glimpsed on the gurney that day). Her tinkling laugh. Her warm, sweet smiles.

Also a wry sense of humor, tempered by shyness. A lively curiosity and piercing intelligence. A modest, quiet, and courteous nature, which he finds disarming and ultimately attractive.

Flash of memory, a view from doorway back in Seattle, watching her neatly sort out papers on a table. Admiring the inner strength and poise which belies her seemingly delicate appearance, the deliberate yet quick movements. Which is what inspired him to purchase that hummingbird pendant in the first place.

Six years since they first met. He barely remembers who he was back then.

Naive, perhaps. Head in the clouds more often than not, preoccupied if not absentminded. Determined to redeem his grandfather's tarnished legacy and build upon it. Possessing an absolute, arrogant, and unshakable certainty his unconventional theories would be proven right someday.

A lot can happen in six years. He wonders what he's really gained due to that same certainty.

Greater knowledge of the universe, more rich and strange than anything ever imagined by a planetbound population. A certain prestige, albeit kept tightly under wraps. Friends and teammates he trusts, closer than family.

But what of the cost?

Without question his academic reputation in the wider world, though that doesn't bother him as much as he once believed it would. He no longer needs the external validation, and Sanderson pretty much destroyed any chance of being taken seriously besides.

His sanity and even his life a few times. Fortunately neither in the permanent sense. 

And- yes- love.

Sarah Gardner. Smart, shrewd, passionate. Always mindful of her standing in the academic community. Who loved him once, yet failed to offer support when he needed it most.

Sha're. Sweet, gentle, endlessly patient with his fumbling efforts adapting to his adopted planet. Met and married by accident, literally. Forever lost to him now.

Would he ever be able to love another as deeply? Or is he destined to be alone for the rest of his life, afraid to open himself to others lest he lose them as well?

All this knowledge of other languages and cultures, and he can't even fathom the depths of his own heart.

****************

Daniel's changed in many ways since she last saw him. Yet in other ways he hasn't.

Gone are the floppy locks, replaced by a shorter style. Not military-short, thank goodness, but flattering enough.

He moves around the lab with grace and confidence, instead of clumsiness and uncertainty. Shoulders are broader, arms more muscular than she remembers. Both proof of how much training and field experience he's had over the years.

A certain haunted world-weariness hovers about him, she's sorry to note. More lines to his face. A touch of melancholy in his eyes every now and then.

Yet he retains a sense of wonder at every new discovery, a fierce pride in his work. An unshakable belief that every life matters. His care and concern in doing the right thing. The joy in his voice as he regales her with descriptions of ruins and artifacts found on a multitude of planets throughout the galaxy.

The connection between them is as strong as ever, she's sure of it. But the possibility for romance?

No. Not gonna happen.

Seriously, there's nothing special about her. She's too short, too ordinary. Sees the proof all the time in the mirror, for crying out loud. No way he'd find her attractive.

The best she can hope for is a good friendship, which is all she deserves.

****************

Ancient writing is weird, Becky decides.

One day over lunch she admits she's learning Latin for fun, along with Esperanto. A pleasantly surprised Daniel suggests a crash course in Ancient, one of the languages they've discovered on quite a few planets. Spoken by the first iteration of humanity who mastered all sorts of high tech and built the Stargate network, before disappearing for reasons currently unknown.

"So you can help with translating," he explains, "while I get on with setting up a catalog template for packing and relocation of every book and artifact to New Earth. Which I should've started a couple weeks ago, to be honest," he admits, slightly abashed.

At first glance the glyphs themselves have no visual correlation with any known Earth languages, but when converted to a Roman alphabet it sounds like medieval Latin with Greek and other stuff thrown in for kicks. Moreover the words can have totally different meanings, even to contradicting themselves depending on how the symbols are grouped or even the way they're oriented- left or right, up or down.

And she thought making connections between ideograms and spoken words in Chinese was challenging.

Or even Basque, the topic of her term paper for the conference in Seattle. She's cherished a certain secret suspicion over the years- not one ever made public, though- that it originated elsewhere, since it's essentially a language isolate with no connections to anything else in the Indo-European phylum. She ought to ask Daniel if he's encountered it on any other planets, might be interesting for a follow-up study one day.

Meanwhile, back to Ancient school.

"This is unlike anything I've ever seen before," Becky confesses one afternoon. "But I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Daniel smiles slightly and leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll be the judge of that. I had you leave out one phrase. Translate it and tell me what it means."

She picks up a piece of chalk, tapping it against the blackboard. "Okay. Let's see. Huy-Braesealis, astria sto pro oculo prostasía. Quinque pénte puncta energopoiísete. How's my pronunciation?"

"Not bad."

Becky narrows her gaze, frowning slightly in concentration. "So, Huy-Braesealis- which could be Hy-Brasil, seems out of place here as it belongs to Irish mythology but whatever....Yeah, okay. Got it." She writes below it, Huy-Braesealis, Star in the Eye for protection. Five points to activate. Suitably cryptic, but Ancient seems to be full of that kinda thing.

She sets the chalk down and steps back to take in the newly translated phrase, bumping into Daniel behind her. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Let me check." He picks up the chalk, contemplates her work. Lips move silently, which sends sudden shivers down her back, thinking of them moving down her body--

Becky gives herself a mental shake. He's a friend and colleague, for crying out loud. Entertaining lascivious notions at this point in time is definitely inadvisable.

Besides, his careful perusal is making her as nervous as an undergrad facing her toughest professor. Which isn't really a fair comparison since Daniel's one of the most patient and encouraging teachers she's ever had. Yet the anxiety remains.

"Well," he says at last, "it's mostly right."

"Mostly? What are you talking about? There's no way it could mean anything else, I checked it twice over."

"I'm sure you did. But when grouped differently it could also mean..." Writing in smaller letters, underneath hers: These aren't the droids you're looking for. Move along.

Her brow furrows as she stares first at Daniel, then at the blackboard. Something about that phrase is familiar, but what...?

She groans, slapping her forehead. "From Star Wars, right? Obi-Wan to the Stormtrooper?"

Daniel nods, grinning. "Got it in one. Not bad."

"Unbelievable," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Obviously Uncle Jack's been a bad influence on you. Maybe next time I should just put in a quote from Raiders of the Lost Ark or one of the other Indiana Jones movies at random and see if you can spot it."

"Too bad I left my bullwhip at home," he quips, eyes twinkling. "Seriously, your translation's well done. You've picked Ancient up faster than I thought you would."

The tension eases, replaced by a warm sensation in her chest at the praise. "Thanks. It's weird but it also makes a lot of sense to me, for some reason. So does that mean I've earned my coffee break, boss?"

He chuckles. "Sure. My treat."

****************

One day stacks of folders appear as if by magic in Mac and Becky's quarters, a disconcerting reminder of how little privacy they truly enjoy on the base.

A yellow post-it is affixed to the top of one pile, in Jack's handwriting:

Something for you guys to take a gander at. Hope it doesn't give you nightmares. See me or the rest of the team if you have any questions.

SG-1's mission reports.

Mac shakes his head over the contents as he leafs through them, muttering about an overly-curious vacuum salesman he once met and if he'd been one of those aliens in disguise.

For her part if she hadn't already seen the Stargate with her own eyes she'd consider it fiction on par with any of her favorite literary sci-fi series. Truly amazing stuff.

Nevertheless, she does have questions. For the others but especially Daniel.

There's something she's wondered about for a while, ever since Mac's reluctant confession of a near-death experience around the time Harry died. After reading about Daniel's in the mission reports- multiple times, yet- the notion simply would not leave her alone. If anyone has an answer it's gotta be him.

Hopefully he'll be willing to confide in her tomorrow.

****************

"So how many times have you died, exactly?"

Daniel frowns, setting his coffee cup down on the worktable. "I was afraid this would come up sooner or later. Jack gave you our mission reports, didn't he?"

"Certainly makes for fascinating bedtime reading," Becky notes dryly. "Action-packed. Hair-raising."

"Yeah, I bet. Most days I try really hard not to think about it. Wasn't fun, I can tell you that much."

"I'm sure. It's just...well, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I mean, you look so healthy and everything. And I have a ton of questions- how you came back to life every time, why you never thought about the consequences of charging ahead, if you ever once stopped to consider the pain you'd be putting your team through by watching you die, what you experienced when you did--"

He sighs in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm not comfortable with this topic right now. Can't it wait until some other time?"

"Did you see the proverbial bright light, or an angel? Is there really an afterlife, or is it just nothing at all? You can count on me to keep your secret, I won't blab to anyone if that's what you're afraid of, not even Jack. I just want to know how it felt when--"

The book he just picked up slams down onto the worktable. "Becky, that's enough!" he snaps. "Please stop asking me, okay? I'd rather not talk about it. I mean it."

She winces at his tone, much sharper than usual. "Right. Sorry," she says, a flush warming her cheeks. "I, um... Yeah. I'm really sorry."

An awkward silence follows with neither willing to meet each other's eyes. She squirms as the tension stretches between them, making her extremely uncomfortable. She hates conflict of any kind, especially when she's the one causing it.

Sometimes she's too curious for her own good. Why can't she learn when to shut up?

There's a sudden short jolt followed by a series of strong, sharp shakes, the entire base quivering with the effort.

Becky's eyes widen, darting frantically around the room, seeing nothing but tons of earth about to close in on her--

Oh god-Oh god-Oh god. Not again-Not again-Not again!

"Becky, you okay?"

So hard to breathe, heartbeat quickening, needing to move but her feet seem to be frozen in place--

"Becky?"

--nowhere to run anyway, no escape from the landslide of rock and dust and debris smothering her--

"Becky, snap out of it! Let's get somewhere safe." Daniel seizes her shoulders, dragging her with him towards the large office desk in the corner, dodging falling objects along the way. They huddle underneath as books and artifacts empty out of the bookcases and onto the concrete floor, some pottery shattering on impact.

She peeks outside at the damage, utters a quiet moan and scoots back until she collides with Daniel, who grunts softly at the impact. Given how he was acting towards her minutes ago she half expects him to flinch from the contact but instead his left arm curves around her, pulling her close to his body.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

"It's okay."

"No, I really am sorry. About earlier. I didn't mean to bring up any unpleasant memories--"

A long finger against her lips. "Shh. I know."

The shaking continues. She's finding it hard to relax.

Her heart speeds up again as she keeps flashing on the L.A. Basin sinking before her eyes, the tidal waves crashing in as the Pacific inexorably fills the absence.

Not that it could happen here in the Rockies. But there's this short story she remembers about a significant chunk of the Midwest slipping down on a heretofore minor fault line, creating a third shining sea in the middle of the country--

Becky whimpers. She doesn't want to be buried alive again, with the earth covering her and the cold and the pain and the dark and oh god-oh god-oh god...

"Easy now. Relax. I'm right here. I've got you." Daniel's voice is soft. He strokes her hair, tentatively at first then with growing surety. "Everything will be alright, hummingbird."

Hummingbird? Why on earth...?

Oh, of course. The pendant.

He murmurs soothing words in other languages, caressing her hair. She nestles closer against his chest as the panic ebbs, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Like most base personnel he wears green (or occasionally blue) and black while working, reminiscent of the journal she gave him.

He's wonderful, and so kind to her. Gentle and strong, his heartbeat as steady and reassuring as that of her uncles. Smells really nice, too- leather and books and sun-warmed ancient stone, a combination Becky can only think of as home.

Her raven, as she's secretly dared to call him in her heart.

Who cares how many times he's died, really? Or what happened to him in the afterlife? He's here now, warm and alive. So alive.

The tremor finally ends but she's reluctant to break the spell. As is Daniel, judging by his sudden speculative expression. He reaches out a long finger to caress her face before turning it up to meet his gaze.

God, he has the most beautiful eyes. Like the ocean. Empathetic yet intense at the same time.

What could he possibly see in hers?

"My hummingbird," he whispers again, carefully cupping her cheek in one hand.

"My raven," she breathes, quivering at the flame his touch sends through her body.

He leans even closer, those lush lips a mere breath away from hers--

No, a voice of caution whispers from within. Not yet.

Becky pulls away, flushing. "We should probably get out from under here, huh?"

He smiles sadly, shadow of regret in his eyes. "Guess so."

A crackle from the PA unit on the wall. "Your attention please, this is General Hammond. According to Dr. Akimoto the epicenter of the quake we just experienced took place about five miles west of Cheyenne Mountain. The stabilizers compensated for the motion and no significant structural damage to the base has been reported. No aftershocks are expected in the meantime but everyone should remain alert for the rest of the day. Team members call in your status to your leaders. If there are any serious injuries please alert the infirmary right away. Thank you."   

They emerge from under the desk, noting the damage before them with dismay.

"No help for it," she sighs. "I'll fetch a broom and dustpan from the custodial closet down the hall. If I can get there safely, that is."

"Good idea. I'll tell Jack we're okay then see what's still intact. Or at least salvageable."

Cleanup takes a while. Picking up books and scattered papers. Assessing artifacts, several of which are either put in a bin for a later attempt at restoration or reluctantly find their way to the wastebasket. But eventually the lab is back to normal, more or less.

Becky empties the dustpan one last time. "Well, that was fun. Sure hope it doesn't happen again anytime soon, though. Otherwise there won't be much left to take with us."

He chuckles, patting her on the shoulder. "Me, too. Why don't we see if the mess is serving coffee yet? We can find out if there's further news about the quake."

"Yeah, coffee sounds good right now. And, um, Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"You know," hoping she's not making things worse, "if you ever want to talk about your experiences or anything else, I'm more than willing to listen."

He shakes his head. "I appreciate what you're offering, Becky. I really do. But I'm not sure I ought to burden you with my problems."

She reaches out before he can turn away, gently clasping his arm. He's surprised but makes no move to shake her off. "Hey. We're friends, right? All I'm saying is, if you need anything I'm here to share the load. Please. It's what friends do for each other."

For a while he stares at her, considering. Then smiles faintly, giving her a tentative nod in return. "I might just take you up on that offer someday. Thanks."

"You're welcome," feeling the connection between them grow stronger with every minute. Along with a mutual attraction.

Her gut feeling is right, though. Now's not the time to act on it. Not yet, anyway.

First coffee, then back to work.

They have a deadline to meet, after all.

Chapter Text

MacGyver's never cared much for the military, despite his brother's involvement.

When his number came up for Vietnam he seriously considered slipping across the border into Canada, easy to do in a northern-tier state like Minnesota. He's always been more of a pacifist anyway, and the accident with Jesse convinced him further guns only contribute to the world's problems instead of solving them.

However, Harry had also instilled in his grandchildren the importance of service towards family and country, so with great reluctance Mac accepted the draft. In the Army he managed- through raw technical talent, knowledge, and a certain amount of luck- to earn an assignment in bomb disposal instead of a regular combat unit.

Funny how that experience came in handy later on with his rather atypical line of work.

For his part Jack cherished a dream since childhood to follow in their biological father's footsteps as a fighter pilot. Once he graduated from high school he immediately applied to enter the Air Force Academy, using O'Neill as a last name instead of their stepfather's. Military life suits him even with his casual, irreverent attitude.

It came as no real surprise to Mac how eagerly his brother embraced the structure and discipline the service offered. After Harry left for Alaska a haphazard combination of punishments and rewards from Mom- when she could spare time from the coffee shop- and Allison prevailed at home, making for some very mixed signals.

So here he is at the end of the world, living with her daughter in quarters for civilian personnel at Jack's current posting.

Four years his brother's had this whole other life, and Mac never had an inkling. Though to be fair Jack doesn't know about his own missions for Phoenix either, much less the more unusual adventures he's had along the way.

No doubt there will be plenty of time to swap stories once settled on New Earth. Until then, now that he and Becky have been welcomed in and largely healed of their injuries they're both determined to make themselves useful.

Mac's finding plenty to keep himself occupied.

****************

"So you actually had to create an electric arc welder in the middle of the Brazilian rain forest?" Siler's voice is muted, his head in the guts of the mechanism he's repairing on Level 8.

Mac leans against the concrete wall. He likes hanging out with this guy, who knows his way around all kinds of machines and repair jobs. "Yeah. See, this was on an isolated farm and the irrigation pump was on its last legs 'cause the piston was busted."

"No welding equipment on site?"

"There was, but the acetylene gas for the tanks had run out. So I hooked up jumper cables from a truck to one of their generators and used a couple 50-cent coins from my pocket to make an electric arc welder. Then I welded the piston back together 'til it was good as new, or until they could replace it, anyway."

"Huh. Mind getting me the socket wrench?" Mac reaches into the toolbox on his right, hands it to Siler. "Thanks. Bet they were grateful."

"Yeah, I guess. Though next day the owner and I faced a massive horde of soldier ants headed straight towards the farm, eating everything in their path. I'm talking millions of 'em. We finally saved the farm by flooding the ants away."

"By blowing up the dam?"

"Yeah. Even that was a heck of a challenge, since we first had to drive unstable dynamite up a rocky road to get there in the first place."

"Colonel O'Neill likes blowing things up too. Though usually he prefers C4 instead."

Mac grimaces. "He would. Always liked to make a big mess of things as a kid."

Siler chuckles as he pulls away from the machine. "We had our own infestation of bugs in the base, not that long ago. Well, sort of bugs. Nasty machines called Replicators, consuming and assimilating every piece of technology in their path. God help you if you get in their way. Took the Colonel and his team to stop 'em before they could wreak any more havoc."

"My brother stopped an invasion of machine insects," trying to wrap his head around the idea. "You're not messing with me, are ya?"

"Nope. He's not like some spit-and-polish, by-the-book officers I've served under, but he's damn good at what he does. Got lots of stories I could tell you about him and SG-1. Maybe not every little detail, but word gets around the base pretty quick." Siler rummages in his toolbox. "Dammit."

"What's the matter?"

"Thought I had a couple spare fuses in here. I'll have to go get some, but the storeroom's at least six levels down and my work schedule's pretty full today."

"Sorry to hear that." Mac sticks a hand in one pocket of his leather jacket, frowns and pulls out a wrapped stick of chewing gum. "Huh, wonder where this came from. You wanna split it?"

"Not while I'm on duty. Thanks anyway."

"No problem," popping the gum into his mouth and folding the wrapping paper into a neat rectangle with the metallic side out. "Here. You might be able to bypass the fuse for a while with this, or at least until you have the time to replace it properly."

Siler examines the paper dubiously. "Sure it'll work?"

"Should have enough metal on it to act as a conductor. Couldn't hurt, right?"

After a moment's consideration the engineer shrugs and reaches into the machine, affixing the wrapping paper between the wires in lieu of a replacement fuse. "Just so you know," he warns, closing the casing. "I'll try anything once but the General will have my hide if this doesn't work and the base blows up or whatever."

"I'll take full responsibility. Fire it up already."

The machine hums contentedly, everything in order. Right down to the makeshift fuse.

Siler shakes his head in amazement. "Well, if that don't beat the band, as my grandma used to say. Thanks for the assist, Mac."

"My pleasure. Say," Mac nods over at the two unusual small-sized machines squatting nearby, "what are those things over there with the weird gray metallic sheen? Never seen anything like them before."

Siler glances over his shoulder. "Oh, those? They're naquadah generators."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "Nock-what?"

"Naquadah. It's the most valuable mineral in the galaxy. The Stargate's made from the stuff. The Goa'uld use it for their technology. Asgard, too."

Mac shakes his head. "Robotic bugs and alien minerals. Just when I think I'm getting used to this place I come across something even weirder."

Siler chuckles. "Know how you feel. Never a dull moment around here, that's for sure."

"So what makes this...naquadah so valuable, then?"

"Apparently it's stable enough for a lot of high-energy applications, or so Major Carter says. She's the expert around here. You oughta ask her if you're interested."

"I might just do that. Whoops," catching the time on his watch. "Better get going. Time for another settlement meeting, then I'm helping Janet with the refugees upstairs. We'll talk more later, okay?"

"Sure thing. Hey, have you figured out what you're gonna do after we settle on New Earth?"

"Not really. Odd jobs here and there, maybe some teaching. Why?"

"We could always use a skillset like yours in my department. Major Carter might even appreciate a hand with her engineering projects now and then."

"That's a good idea. I'll think about it and let you know."

"Fair enough. If you're interested I'll put in a word with the General. And just between us? You're a lot more fun to be around than the Colonel. You've got better stories."

Mac chuckles. "My lips are sealed. See you later, Sly."

****************

Establishing a new settlement takes a significant amount of planning and forethought, even in so short a time frame. Also a lot of just plain talking.

Every aspect's considered and debated before agreement. Buildings and housing, food allocation and production, distribution of resources, sustainability measures, waste management, power generation.

As committee chair Dr. Elizabeth Weir moderates the discussions with diplomacy and tact, using the same grace and aplomb as she had at the U.N. She's particularly adept at keeping egos out of the decision making, otherwise Mac's sure they'll be arguing until Zero Hour itself with very little accomplished.

In addition Weir's encouraged a collaborative approach to problem-solving, which agrees with him. All sorts of ideas are welcome into the mix, no matter how odd. Mac's not sure whether it's out of desperation or merely a desire to start a self-sustaining colony in the best and most efficient manner possible.

Naturally he hopes for the latter.

One of his own ideas is already being implemented. All manner of items are being gathered by marines before outside conditions turn worse from military installations around town, including the Academy grounds, supply depots and the Army & Air Force Exchange. Additionally Jack's suggested four-person salvaging teams arranged like Gate recon to range even further in trucks, scouring the supermarkets, stores and other businesses as far north as Denver for supplies.

Practical things, mostly. Fruit, vegetable and herb seeds. Gardening and hand tools. Clothing and decent shoes. Foodstuffs not already picked over by scavengers. Combs and toothbrushes. Maybe even knitting needles and yarn, for all Mac knows.

Also a ton of books from the Air Force Academy library, the Colorado Springs Public Library system and any bookstores in between that haven't already been looted for fuel. Fiction for entertainment along with non-fiction in every scientific topic, along with more mundane how-tos on gardening, woodworking, handicrafts, herbal remedies and other information necessary for people to thrive- not merely survive- on New Earth.

Other, not-so-practical things have been rumored to be brought in as well- musical instruments, sports equipment and the like. Everything crated and immediately sent through the Gate, stored in warehouses as fast as Major Alvarez and his team can build them. Captain Corrigan of Supply certainly has his hands full keeping track of it all.

Though Mac proposed it to the committee the salvaging is actually one of Becky's suggestions, especially the books. He likes to get her input on ideas and she has a lot, thanks to all those sci-fi stories she's read.

"Books are important for a civilization," she insists one night while sitting cross-legged on her bed, translating work spread out before her (a bunch of thick, weird-looking lines and spots to him). "We need all the help we can get, in order to avoid any dark ages for future generations. Why deprive them of the knowledge we've gained over the centuries?"

"Isn't that kinda putting the cart before the horse?" he jokes. "Seems a little soon to be thinking that far ahead."

"Never too early to plan for the future, Unc," she soberly replies. "Not if we're to have any sort of a chance."

If there's anything Becky's inherited from her mom it's the gift of seeing solutions to problems before they even happen. These days he's taking her advice seriously, more so the closer it gets to Zero Hour.

She's right. They really do need all the help they can get.

****************

"MacGyver? Can I ask you a question?" Cassandra Fraiser comes up to him after he teaches a group of kids how to do a cat's cradle and other string tricks. Hard to believe she's actually from another planet, she's so much like the other kids.

"Sure, Cassie. What is it?"

"Do you have any girlfriends?"

He blinks. Rather forward, but maybe where she's from that's normal.

"Well, no. I've had girls who were friends, but no real girlfriends." Nothing lasting, anyway. Whatever he had with Nikki was more on-again, off-again than anything. Never could tell where he stood with her.

"Why not?"

"Don't know, exactly. Guess I've been too busy."

"Do you like my mom?"

"Yeah, I like her a lot. She's really nice."

"You think she's pretty?"

His gaze strays to Janet. There's something about her compassion, her kindness, and her dedication that appeals to him, not to mention a playful sense of humor.

"Yeah, I do. Real pretty."

A wide grin spreads across Cassie's face. It's easy to see why she's considered the SGC's unofficial mascot, though Jack jokingly asserts it's really Daniel to the archaeologist's chagrin. "Good. She likes you a lot too. She thinks you're really smart and handsome."

"She does?" For some reason it never occurred to him the interest's mutual. How about that.

"Cassie," Janet chides gently as she approaches them, "stop pestering him. Go help Sergeant White pass out those sandwiches, okay?"

"Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Mac." A glimmer of mischief in her eyes tells him she's far from sorry. Maybe she believes she's playing matchmaker.

Janet watches with a fond smile as her adopted daughter accepts a tray from the mess sergeant. "Sorry about that. I've told her before it's rude to ask personal questions."

"It's okay, she wasn't bothering me at all. You've got a great kid there. You're doing a really good job as her mom."

"Thanks," flushing slightly at the praise. Mac picks up a pleasing floral scent under the antiseptics as she leans in close. "Jack and his team brought her back from Hanka- that's what her people called P8X-987," she says quietly. "The sole survivor of a civilization devastated by plague. Scared out of her mind."

"Hard to believe, she's so bright and cheerful now."

"Sam really wanted to care for her but she didn't have the time with her duties. And there's no question of anyone off base adopting her, so I volunteered. They're pretty resilient if you give them enough love and reassurance. Becky must've been the same, after she lost her family."

"She's been quite the trooper all these years. I'm proud of her," he admits with a smile.

"Jack's told me how impressed he was that you'd agreed to become Becky's guardian back then, considering the nature of your work for the Phoenix Foundation. Looking at how she turned out you did something right yourself."

"Yeah, which still amazes me even now. Felt like I was just winging it most of the time, I'm the one who needed reassurance more. My sister once said the best parents can do is show them love and support no matter what, make sure they're on a good path, and trust they can take care of themselves when the time comes."

"Sounds like wise advice. Would you like to talk about this further over dinner? Compare notes on being adoptive parents?" A speculative look in her eyes makes his heart skip a beat.

She really is gorgeous, he thinks. Smart as a whip, too.

And she likes him. A lot.

He's always been wary of relationships, past experience can attest to that. Though lately he's been wondering if it was just plain fear of the unknown that made him reluctant to take the chance.

What the heck. It's the end of the world, right? Anything can happen.

Maybe it's finally time to let go of that fear.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd really like that."

****************

"Naquadah's a stable mineral ore, similar to quartz," Sam says later that afternoon in her lab. "Used in a wide variety of applications, from generating limitless amounts of clean energy to very powerful weapons."

"Like atomic energy, in a way," Mac says thoughtfully, idly toying with a chunk of that same alien material by her computer. "Potential for both creation and destruction. Is it radioactive?"

"Not at all. Naquadah only reacts with neutrinos--"

"--Electrically neutral particles, right?"

She gives him an odd look but continues. "Which are created by nuclear reactions in the Sun. Millions of them pass through us every day without ill effects, their interaction with human tissue being next to zero. Unlike other charged particles such as electrons and protons, which in sufficient quantities can do a lot of harm to our bodies."

Mac nods. "Siler says the Stargate and those generators on Level 8 are made of this stuff. How does that work?"

"Well, once processed the naquadah is primed to convert and store neutrino energy, effectively functioning as a superconductor."

"And since neutrinos aren't affected by the electromagnetic forces that act on electrons--"

"--They can therefore pass through great distances and even matter without noticeable effect. In Stargates, for example, the energy's stored within a crystal lattice structure and when activated..." She pauses, tilting her head at him curiously. "You know, you're nothing like the Colonel."

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever I try explaining anything related to my work his eyes glaze over. You're actually interested in this."

"Yeah. Jack never cared much for science growing up, even though he was good enough at math to get into the Air Force. I was the one who loved chemistry and engineering more. Which is why I majored in them for my bachelor's."

"Really? Where at?"

"Western Tech."

"Impressive. Had you thought of getting a more advanced degree?”

"Nah. My mentor offered a fellowship, but by that time I realized academia just wasn't for me. I really liked the hands-on stuff but never had much patience with the mountain of paperwork that goes with it. Or the politics."

"Now that," she says dryly, "sounds a lot like the Colonel."

Mac chuckles. "Yeah, some things run in the family, I guess. So what's it like working with my brother?"

"He's a really good commander. His tactical ability's second to none and he always makes sure the mission's carried out to the best of our abilities, even when it goes off course. He looks out for everyone, not only on his team but also anyone who needs our help..." Her voice falters. "Oh. You're not asking about in the field, are you?"

"No, but I get what you're saying. He was like that growing up, too. Always taking the lead, captain of the sports teams at school, that kinda thing. Me, I just wanted to stay in my workshop, do experiments and invent stuff."

Sam nods in understanding. "It was the same between me and my brother Mark, in a way."

"Is he here on base?"

A shadow crosses over her face. "No. He was in San Diego with his family when the Big Quake happened."

"Sorry to hear that." An awkward silence follows. "So. You like my brother?"

"Why, yes. He's not only a fine officer but a good man. I trust him with my life."

"Good. He likes you, too. A lot."

She blinks in surprise. "Oh. Well, that's good to hear. I guess."

Another silence. He's really not good with small talk, much less regarding his own family.

Better switch to something they can both relate to. "I notice you're working on some kind of sensor drone over there," gesturing towards a nearby worktable cluttered with components.

"Yeah, I am." She seems relieved for the change in subject. "It's an in-depth, portable long-range array for use on New Earth. The crystals and circuit boards are working within their specs, but I'm worried about the load tolerances."

"Let me have a look." Mac frowns in thought, tapping a finger against his lips as he examines the array. "Maybe add a couple more resistors to the circuit boards, and attach this wire over here instead of there."

Sam's eyes light up. "Of course! And if we relocate this crystal to that quadrant it should balance the load more efficiently." She makes the adjustments and consults a meter. "That's much better. Thanks."

"No problem. Anything else I can do to help, while I'm here?"

She flashes him a bright grin. "I got a few other projects going, if you don't mind sticking around."

"My pleasure."

****************

"Hey, there you are! Just the guy I'm lookin' for."

Mac turns around to find Jack behind him in the corridor, balancing a meal tray in each hand. "Here, take one," practically pushing one into his hands. "They're gettin' heavy."

"Jack, what's going on? Why am I carrying this?"

"It's dinnertime. Becky and Daniel didn't show up for lunch. So we gotta make sure they don't starve to death." He sounds positively gleeful.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just pick them up and drag them with us to the mess?"

"Easier, yeah." Jack flashes a wicked grin. "But not nearly as much fun. You'll see."

Mac glances at the airmen following behind. One struggles with a folding table, another with chairs in either hand. A third bringing up the rear carries a folded blue tablecloth and basket of condiments. "Seems excessive."

"You don't know the Spacemonkey." Apparently his brother's nickname for Jackson. "Once he gets immersed in a project he rarely comes up for air. I'm doing this for the good of the team." Sounds like a conscientious leader but there's no mistaking the mischievous glint in his brother's eyes.

Balancing his tray in one hand, Jack taps out a code on the keypad and opens the door with a flourish.

Mac's been in the lab before. He carries a fondness for archaeology in his heart and Daniel's stories are always fascinating. Good thing Becky's found a place as his assistant.

They're huddling in front of the computer, heads close together. He nods and types while she leans over his left shoulder, murmuring in his ear and gesturing at something on the screen. Comfortable in each other's presence.

Which comes to no surprise to Mac, really. From the moment they saw each other he could tell they were kindred spirits.

"Okay, campers! Chow time!"

Without even looking away from the screen Becky sticks up her index finger in Jack's direction. "Hold on. We're almost done here."

He blinks, nonplussed by the use of his trademark gesture. "Beck..."

Daniel swivels in the chair, raises a warning eyebrow. "Jack..."

Jack narrows his eyes. "Daniel."

Becky frowns. "Seriously?"

Mac has the strangest feeling a lot more is being said. "Um, guys?"

"Mac..." Jack smirks in his direction.

"Jack..." Darn it, now he's doing it too.

Finally Daniel sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Look, we really are almost done. Why are you both here?"

"Dinner delivery," Jack replies, finally waving the airmen inside with the table and chairs. "Since you guys skipped lunch and all."

Becky glances at the clock and groans. "Oh, god. We did, didn't we? Time flies when we're having fun, I guess."

"It does, doesn't it." Daniel winks at her. She ducks her head, a slight pink tinting her cheeks.

"I couldn't call out for pizza," Jack continues, "so this is the next best thing. Hey, if you guys can't come to the meal, the meal comes to you, right?"

"Isn't that supposed to be Mohammed and the mountain?" Becky asks, a wry twist to her lips.

"Comes from Essays, by the English philosopher Frances Bacon," Daniel supplies. "In German, the phrase translates as Wenn der Berg nicht zu Mohammed kommt, wird Mohammed zum Berg gehen. Although there's also a Turkish version that only refers to a mountain and not Mohammed at all--"

Jack waves him silent. "Sheesh Danny, enough with the lecture already! Come and sit, both of you." The table's ready by this time in a corner of the room- tablecloth, chairs and all. He sets his tray down, motions Mac to do the same.

Becky and Daniel share a long-suffering look. "We'd better do what he says," she sighs, "otherwise we'll never hear the end of it."

"You're right." A corner of his mouth quirks up. "Remind me to tell you about a feast we attended on P2Y-724. They roasted this huge ox-like beast, and as the guests of honor we were offered a certain male part of its anatomy as a delicacy. Sam, Teal'c and I tasted it and had no problems with it, but Jack took one bite and turned a fascinating shade of red--"

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack grumbles, leaning against a desk. "Sit down already, willya? Food's getting cold."

Becky and Daniel snicker as they comply.

Yeah, definitely kindred spirits.

****************

"Well, that was fun," Jack says fifteen minutes later, balancing a stack of trays and empty dishes in his hands. "You wanna join the rest of us for dinner?"

"Can't, sorry. Janet invited me to eat with her tonight."

His brother's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. "You and Janet, huh? Our very own Napoleon-in-high-heels? Well, well, well."

Mac rolls his eyes. "She's not that bad. We get on okay. Cassie, too."

"Brown-noser," Jack sniffs. "Just you wait 'til you have to suffer the doc's tender mercies after getting injured on a mission. Big honkin' needles, I'm tellin' ya."

"Maybe it's because you ignore her advice and suffer for it later on. You aren't getting any younger, you know."

"Neither are you. So tell me, when are you gonna stop using that hair dye?"

Mac groans, shaking his head. "Jack..."

"Kidding. So, you and Janet. That's terrific. Have to say I was beginning to worry. I mean, a bachelor at your age, imagine."

"Like you're one to talk. How about you and Sam? Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been making eyes at each other."

Jack turns scarlet. "Don't tell anyone else, okay? I mean it."

He thinks about the surprise on Sam's face when he mentioned how much Jack likes her and hides a smile. "Sure."

He's learning a lot about his brother lately. More than he ever expected.

It's funny, but in some ways Mac understands him better now than he ever did growing up.

Guess anything's possible, at the end of the world.

Chapter Text

As the clock ticks steadily down to Zero Hour the pace is picking up at an appreciable rate.

Crates and boxes of all sizes are piling up in the corridors. Acquired alien tech and Sam's adaptations. Biological and geological samples from government and academic research labs around town, for posterity. Weapons and ammunition. Computer banks and electrical components.

More mundane items are packed as well- furniture and linens, batteries and light bulbs, kitchen utensils and spare uniforms. Right down to the merest paperclips lingering in the bottom drawer of General Hammond's desk, which will also in turn be moved to New Earth. Anything that can be scavenged from around the base and potentially put to use in the settlement.

No detail's too small to be overlooked at this point, thanks to Becky's insight and Mac's suggestions to the planning committee. At least they won't be starting over completely from scratch; through making use of the remaining resources available in combination with knowledge from the books gathered in they can hopefully delay the slide into dark ages she warned him about by a few generations.

Everyone's willing to lend a hand, including Hammond. Even Jack pitches in despite grumbling about the state of his knees as does Teal'c, who in contrast stoically bears his burdens without a word of complaint.

Every few days a lighthearted bucket-brigade competition is held between marines and airmen, seeing which service branch can pass a select pile of items to Captain Corrigan's provisioning crew on the other side in the shortest amount of time. As stakes an airman named Ramirez suggests the trade of future favors after settling on New Earth, an idea which is greeted with universal approval.

Becky and Daniel have been working round the clock as it is, cataloging artifacts and reference materials before carefully filling crates to be later carted off by airmen and added to everything still awaiting transfer through the Gate.

Which she has yet to do herself, as it happens.

She's curious about Gate travel, of course. Anyone working at the base not part of the regular teams or on site at New Earth and the other bases would surely have to be.

So she asks around. Sam explains Einstein-Rosen bridges and quantum entanglement. Jack compares it to a roller-coaster ride that lasts only a few seconds. Master Sergeant Harriman (affectionately nicknamed Walter the Gatekeeper) in the control room shares anecdotes about entrances and- especially when SG-1's involved- dramatic exits.

Despite being armed with such knowledge the very thought continues to make Becky nervous. She has no idea why.

****************

During one break time she decides to head down to Level 28. Just to take a closer look.

Keeping close to the walls Becky sidles around until she finds a clear view, a safe distance away from the action. Blue-white light shimmers over personnel hefting items of all shapes and sizes in a steady stream through the Gate. As the wormhole only goes one way they'll be catching their breath while an alternate group returns to repeat the process all over again.

"Hell of a thing, ain't it," a young black Marine comments next to her. He glances down, blinks in surprise. "Oh. Pardon my language, ma'am. Thought you were someone else."

"No problem," she replies with a smile. "Incredible, isn't it? One step through and you're on another planet."

"Sure is. Must be quite a rush."

"Perkins," a deep voice growls. "You're not supposed to be fraternizing with civilians while on duty."

"Sorry, sir," Perkins mutters, abashed.

A tow-headed man of medium height with a cold expression and almost colorless eyes scowls down at her. "I'm Lieutenant Norris. This is a restricted level. Who are you? How did you get down here?"

"I'm Dr. Grahme. I'm a linguist working here, in the labs," she explains. His glare's really unnerving. "I'm sorry for distracting him. I just wanted to take a closer look at the Gate."

"I don't believe you. You should be back upstairs with the other refugees. Perkins, help me escort her."

"With all due respect sir," Perkins protests, "I don't really think--"

"You disobeying a direct order, Corporal?" Norris grabs her arm, not gently by any means.

She struggles to free herself. "Let go of me!"

"Ease up, Lieutenant," a voice drawls behind them. "Does she really look like a threat?"

Perkins and the other marines immediately straighten and salute, Norris a bare second later. "Major Sheppard, sir."

"At ease." A hawkish face and short dark hair with distinctly non-regulation cowlicks, which reminds her of Mac's old mullet style back in the day. "But let go of her first, okay?"

The lieutenant does, with reluctance. She ruefully rubs her arm at the bruise already forming under the sleeve.

Sheppard's hazel eyes appraise her. "Hey, you're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you. How're you feeling?" He gives her a lazy wink as if saying Play along. 

"I'm good, thanks. And you?" Wondering why this stranger would presume such familiarity when she's certain they've never met.

"Never better." His smile's both playful and dangerous. Must be something Air Force officers are trained to deploy when necessary, since Jack has his own version.

Norris frowns. "Major, I've never seen her here before. She can't possibly be authorized for clearance. Probably one of the civilian refugees from upstairs."

"Oh come now, Lieutenant," he chides. "With all the checkpoints and guards you know that's not likely. I've seen her around, she works with Dr. Jackson." With a finger he tips her ID badge up into the light of the event horizon. "See? She's got clearance and everything. Now why don't we all take it easy. Or," he adds with a raised eyebrow, "should we ask Colonel O'Neill for clarification?"

Norris tenses, his eyes flicking to the badge then traveling up and down her body in a way that turns her stomach. "No, sir. Didn't notice before. Sorry, sir."

"And...?" Sheppard cocks his head towards her expectantly.

"Sorry...ma'am." No genuine contrition in his eyes.

"Come on," her rescuer says, gently grasping her elbow and steering her away. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay." Becky risks a look back, Norris still frowning in her direction. "That guy gives me the creeps."

"Me, too. Things may be crazier than normal but that's no excuse for the way he was treating you. Feel like filing a complaint with his Captain?"

"Not really. As you say, things are pretty crazy and I don't want to make a fuss." She tilts her head up to study him. Why is it all the good-looking guys have to be so darn tall? "Um, sorry for asking, but do I know you?"

He flashes a charming smile. A twinkle of mischief in his gaze intrigues her, and his casual, easygoing manner is equally appealing. "In a way. I was one of the helicopter pilots when Colonel O'Neill rescued you and your other uncle after the landslide."

"Oh. Well, thanks a lot. And for rescuing me just now, too."

"No problem." Offers his hand. "Call me John."

"Becky. Nice to meet you." No spark like what she feels with Daniel but there's a solid, friendly feeling about him nonetheless. Reminiscent of her older brother Chris, maybe.

"You, too. Let's stop here, this looks like a good spot for Gate-watching." Sheppard slouches against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Becky follows suit, albeit with more uncertainty.

At length the last of the personnel and materials pass through. The Gate reaches its time limit and automatically deactivates, leaving an empty circle. The platoon stands down at a word from Norris.

"Something else, isn't it?" John says. "The Ancients must've been pretty remarkable, to figure out how to build a wormhole network that spans the galaxy."

"Yeah, they were," she says, thinking of the simple yet complex nature of their language. "Have you been through yet?"

"Nope. You?"

"Not yet. Wonder what it's like."

"Guess we'll all find out soon enough, once the evacuations start."

"Yeah. What do you think you'll do, over there?"

"I've heard they've been developing a new kind of fighter at Alpha Base, one that can go into space. Hopefully I'll get assigned there 'cause they really need pilots."

"I take it you can fly more than just helicopters?"

"Oh, yeah." There's that twinkle in his eyes again. "Best feeling in the world. Nothing like it." He checks his watch. "Whoops, gotta go on duty soon. Nice meeting you, Becky. See you around."

"Nice meeting you too, John. See you later."

He gives her a cheeky wink and saunters off.

Daniel comes up alongside, hands casually in pockets. "There you are. Made a new friend?"

"I think so. One of the pilots on the SAR team with Jack. He just helped me out of a tussle with that lieutenant over there," gesturing towards the platoon lined up against the opposite wall.

He frowns. "Norris. I've heard of him. Always harasses civilians like us, for some reason. Maybe I should have a word with Jack."

"I guess. There's something about him that makes my flesh crawl." She shudders. "Kinda like Sanderson, you know?"

The frown morphs into a grimace. "Yeah, I see it now. What are you doing away from the lab?"

"Taking a break. I left a note on your desk."

"I've been busy with briefings. So why here?"

She shrugs. "Wanted a closer look at the Gate. Those Ancients certainly built to last, didn't they. Considering how old it is, I mean."

There's a funny half-smile on his face. "They certainly did. Let's get back to work, okay? We still have a few more crates to finish packing this afternoon."

"Right." She's certain the colorless eyes of Lieutenant Norris across the room are boring into her back as they leave.

Definitely gives her the creeps.

****************

"You guys up for an outing later?" Jack asks the next day at breakfast.

Daniel peers at him over his glasses, frowning. "Thought there weren't any regular missions planned until after Zero Hour."

"Yeah, but the General wants me to do an inspection tour of the settlement and I could use the company. Wanna come with? We'll make a picnic out of it."

Sam's eyes light up. "I do, sir. That way Mac and I can give the sensor array its first real field test."

"That's one. How about it, T? A chance to stretch those Jaffa legs of yours?"

Teal'c inclines his head. "A splendid idea."

"Great. Danny?"

"Why not? I could use a break."

Jack turns to Mac. "So what do you say? Gotta take that first jaunt through the ol' orifice sometime."

Becky and Mac share a glance. Through the Gate. The very notion makes her heart speed up a bit, and he looks a bit startled himself.

All these months and they haven't even considered the fact they might use it one of these days.

Finally he nods. "Yeah. Okay."

"How about you, Beck? C'mon, it'll be fun," Jack coaxes gently.

Everyone's staring at her, making her more than a little nervous.

Oh, why not. Has to happen sooner or later, right? "Sure."

"Terrific!" He beams at his expanded team. "We'll meet down in the locker rooms after the briefing at 1100, get you guys fitted out. Carter, you show Becky the ropes on your side. Mac, you're with the rest of us guys. See ya then."

****************

Becky can't stop thinking about the Gate as she and Daniel head for the lab.

According to Sam it's nothing more than a machine millions of years old, programmed to dissolve her body's molecules in the blink of an eye, sending them through the wormhole to reconstitute elsewhere in the galaxy.

Light-years away from everything she's ever known.

Why on earth is she so nervous? She should be ecstatic. The culmination of many a cherished daydream about exploring the universe.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" It's amazing he can walk and read at the same time.

"Does--" She hesitates.

"What?"

"Never mind," she sighs. "It's a dumb question, anyway."

He closes the book, leaving one finger in to mark his place. "There's no such thing as a dumb question, Becky," he says gently. "You can tell me. I won't laugh."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Does it hurt? Going through the Gate, I mean."

He blinks in surprise. "No. Not at all. Why do you ask?"

"I...I'm..." She bites her lip.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. Really." His smile's meant to be reassuring but Becky still has her doubts.

By this time they've reached the lab, closing the door behind them. "It's just that it scares me a little. I don't even know why. I mean, you guys do it all the time and you're fine. You probably don't get it, but..." She shrugs helplessly, her gaze dropping to the concrete floor.

A gentle touch on her cheek brings her gaze back up to meet his, full of sympathy and understanding. "I do, Becky. Believe me. Facing the unknown is always frightening. The first time I went through the Gate I was scared. But I wanted to know what was on the other side more. I still feel that way with every mission."

"And that's why you do it? To satisfy your curiosity?"

Daniel nods. "We never truly know where the Gate takes us. Or what we'll encounter. Which is a big part of why we go in the first place- to see what's really out there, for good or ill.

"Several times the program's been in danger of shutting down, by the hands of those acting out of fear as well as seeking power only for themselves. They never understood how important it is for us to be out there exploring the universe. We're making a difference, and we must keep going. There's too much at stake to turn our backs now." He speaks with such firm conviction, it's hard not to take heart.

"Sounds like good enough reason for me to take that first step, then."

"It is. It may not be a friendly universe, but the wonders outweigh the dangers. I really hope I can share them with you. We can learn so much together--"

"Together?" For all her wondering about the settlement's future, she hasn't really considered her own.

"Yeah. I mean, you'll be my assistant on a permanent basis once we get settled on New Earth, right? I think we can do a lot of great things, really expand the boundaries of knowledge." There's a focused, almost fevered quality to his gaze now, one that men rarely cast in her direction. Making her both nervous and excited at the same time.

Is it possible he has feelings for her? And if so, why?

Becky swallows. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Fair enough, I guess," with a hint of disappointment in his voice. She feels more than a little guilty. "Let's get some work done before the briefing. How far along are you with translating that tablet from P5J-348?"

"I'm almost done. There are some phrases you oughta look at, they remind me of something I saw in one of your mission reports..."

Time to focus on the here and now.

It's good to work, keeps her mind off both the slight hurt in his eyes at her hesitation and the impending trip through the Gate.

For a while, anyway.

****************

Black t-shirt, green BDU shirt and pants, black tac vest. Green broad-brimmed field hat. The black boots don't seem to add much in the way of inches to her petite height, though.

It's like she's turned into a soldier. Ironic, since she's always been more of a pacifist.

Certainly nothing like Sam, suiting up behind her with easy familiarity. Becky envies the way she exudes confidence in herself and her abilities with every movement.

No wonder Jack's in love with her, even if he can't exactly admit it in public.

Or at least not yet, anyway. Things may change once they're on New Earth for good, or so Becky hopes. Sam would make a terrific aunt.

In the meantime--

Becky sighs at her reflection in the mirror. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't so short. I had to roll these pants up, for crying out loud."

Sam grins. "Janet feels the same way, believe me. It's good to have a set of your own, if you ever come on missions with us. Here, let me fix those bootlaces for you. Way they are now you'll be tripping over them all the time."

"Thanks." Props one foot on the bench. "But what makes you think I would? Go on missions, I mean."

She glances up, surprised. "Why, you'll be Daniel's assistant, won't you? You'll have to accompany us if he needs a hand."

"I guess so, but--" Becky shrugs. "Working at Phoenix I had no experience with military operations. I mean, I know self-defense but I'm not used to combat."

"That's all right. We'll be looking out for you no matter what. Just like we do for each other." She expertly ties a knot. "There. Now the other one."

"Sam, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"How do you do it? I mean, I've read the mission reports. You fight some pretty powerful aliens, practically break the laws of physics, figure out alien tech and invent new stuff, blow up suns--"

A rueful chuckle. "I'm never gonna live that one down, am I?"

"Well, it's pretty impressive. All of it is, really. I'm in awe."

Sam smiles and ducks her head. "Tell you the truth Becky, sometimes I'm not sure myself. I just serve in the best way I know how, with everything that's in me. Same as the Colonel, or Daniel and Teal'c, or anyone else here." She finishes, ties another knot. "There you are. Time to go."

Becky can't bring herself to move an inch. She swallows.

Sam turns to her, brow furrowed. "Hey- you're not nervous about going through the Gate, are you? You seemed pretty worried at breakfast."

"I still am, a little. But talking to Daniel helped."

"He's good at that. Don't worry, you'll do just fine," patting her arm in reassurance. "Now let's pick up the drone and get to the Gateroom. The Colonel doesn't like to be kept waiting."

****************

It looms in front of them, an empty circle some twenty feet high made of a mineral not native to Earth.

Door to Heaven (incorrect translation of the hieroglyphs though, according to Daniel).

Gateway to the universe.

The Stargate.

Jack and the rest of the guys are waiting near the wall under the control room windows. He grins at their arrival. "Love the hat, Beck. Just like Danny's." Who rolls his eyes but gives her a little wave nonetheless.

In uniform Mac's a dead ringer for his brother save for unruly blonde hair tucked under his cap, curling around the collar. He returns her tentative smile with a warmer one of his own.

Jack points to a wicker basket in Mac's hand. "See? Picnic. Got the kitchen to fix us sandwiches and everything. Let's get this show on the road." He waves up at Harriman, who nods acknowledgement.

The Gate comes to life, the inner ring of constellation glyphs turning like an old-fashioned rotary dial. Then stops. A chevron opens and closes.

"Chevron one encoded." Walter announces on the PA.

A second spin. "Chevron two encoded."

Becky shifts restlessly on her feet, anxiety rising with every announcement.

It's different, watching it from a safe distance high above in the briefing room. Though fascinating enough in its own right.

This is altogether more immediate. More personal, in a way.

The Gate's opening for them. For her.

A large, dark-skinned hand gently rests on her shoulder. She stares up into the inscrutable gaze of Teal'c. "Be brave, Becky Grahme," he intones. "The chappa'ai is but a means of travel. There is nothing to fear."

"Thank you." His calm encouragement's like a splash of cold water.

Like any other means of transportation. Of course.

She can do this. Time to get a grip.

Besides, it can't be that bad if they use it all the time.

Right?

"Chevron seven encoded."

The wormhole forms a watery vortex, punches straight towards them. Kawoosh.

"Whoa," Mac murmurs reverently. She swallows, reaches for his hand, squeezes. He squeezes back.

The event horizon stabilizes, sunlight dancing on water. Pretty.

"Let's go, campers." Jack takes point as they advance up the ramp. Just before he slips inside the blue shimmer he turns towards her and Mac, gives an encouraging wink. "Relax, guys. Think of it as taking one giant step."

"A giant step that spans light-years," Sam adds with a grin before disappearing herself.

"Exhale right as you step through," Daniel advises behind them. "Nothing to worry about. Usually," he adds under his breath.

Becky half-turns, eyebrows raised. "Usually?"

Mac touches her arm. "C'mon, Beck. Ready?"

This is it.

She takes a deep breath, gives a short, decisive nod. "Ready."

****************

Inhale.

Exhale, stepping through the event horizon.

One moment here--

   (stars rushing past at the speed of more-than-light

   diving through a swooping tunnel of blue

   seemingly endless yet no time at all)

--Next moment there.

Just like that.

****************

Emergence. Staggering down a metal ramp fitted over stone steps.

"Okay," Mac says softly, eyes wide. "That was--"

"--Incredible," Becky finishes, likewise dazed. "So we're really on another planet?"

Jack chuckles, sharing an amused glance with Sam. "See for yourself, kiddo."

The Gate behind them is identical to the one they just went through, Daniel and Teal'c appearing seconds before the event horizon vanishes. As the recon photos indicated they're in a huge valley framed on either side by mountain ranges rising in the distance, complete with forests, fields and a meandering river through its center. Fertile and beautiful, vibrant compared to the functional military drab they left mere seconds ago in shades of blue-green, burnt-orange and moss-green. The sun shines bright in a blue-violet sky with wispy white clouds, the very air clear and clean.

Another world. Imagine that.

A brief flash from one far-off peak to her left catches Becky's eye and a thrill inexplicably runs down her spine. She has a feeling something important lies in that direction, though she has no idea what.

Beginning at the ramp a graded dirt road neatly divides the meadow in half, at the far end turning into a proper street flanked by prefab buildings. Major Alvarez and an aide wait patiently a few yards away.

 Jack strides forward to meet them. "Danny, show Becky the DHD. Everyone else, with me."

She follows Daniel towards a vaguely cupcake-shaped object of the same naquadah material as the Gate. On its broad top two concentric circles of glyphs surround a red domed crystal. "DHD?"

"Dial Home Device," he explains. "This is what really controls and maintains the Stargate network."

"I thought it took a computer to do that."

"Only because the Gate at the base was separated from its DHD decades ago. Sam was on the team that jury-rigged a workaround."

"Sounds like what Uncle Mac might do," she says wryly, with a glance at her uncles chatting with Alvarez.

Daniel chuckles. "Probably. Not nearly as efficient as this of course, but it works. Remind me to tell you later about an Ancient named Orlin, who built a single-use Gate of his own in Sam's basement." He gives her a sly wink. "You might even say he 'MacGyvered' it."

She can't help a snicker of her own. "Sam's something else, isn't she? I don't think I can do one tenth of what she does, even at my best."

"Don't sell yourself short," he says absently, examining the glyphs and taking notes. "You've been more help than you realize. I don't think I would've been able to get nearly as much done otherwise, certainly not the translating in addition to getting everything packed. I really appreciate it."

"You do? Oh." Unexpected compliments always make her flustered. "Um, you're welcome."

"Hey, you two!" Jack waves them over. "Quit dawdling and get over here."

"Our master's voice," Daniel quips. She chortles softly as they catch up with the others.

****************

Major Esteban Alvarez may have cut his teeth constructing air bases in the Middle East as part of the AFCE, but here on New Earth his real talent for city planning has room to shine. The pride in his work is evident as he takes them on a tour.

"Granted, the buildings themselves aren't pretty since they're made out of prefab stuff- plywood, extruded plastics, galvanized metal," he says. "But they'll do until more permanent structures can be built. At least this planet's not lacking for raw materials."

The settlement's designed with considerable input from the planning committee, Mac included. A grid pattern with wide, open streets. Hangars, warehouses and workshops congregate in one part of town while residential areas consisting of half-round Quonset huts cluster in another. Each section's further arranged around squares for a cozier neighborhood feel, as well as more efficient use of space. In the center lies the main administration complex and areas for assemblies and distribution of goods.

"Like forums in ancient Roman cities," Daniel observes.

Every so often they see pipes sticking up in the ground, freshly dug wells ready for water pumps. "I'm also implementing some of your suggestions for alternative wastewater treatments, MacGyver," Alvarez says. "Along with other non-polluting options for power and infrastructure. I believe as firmly as you do that we have to respect the environment from the very beginning. We need to think of this as a clean slate, a second chance to learn from our mistakes on Earth."

Becky silently approves. This is part of what she and Mac have been discussing every night, in conjunction with his committee meetings.

Workers in camo uniforms and hard hats greet them respectfully as they pass by, busy with their own tasks. Alvarez gives his people friendly nods in turn. It's easy to see he has a good relationship with those under his command.

"An experimental farm's being set up, over to the west," he continues. "We'll be allocating spaces here and there for community gardens once the botanists and agronomists figure out what Earth crops will take to the soil."

"Where will the SGC be located?" Sam wants to know.

"At the north end of the settlement, not too far from where the Gate's located now. We'll enclose it in a hangar large enough to protect it from the elements and store the dialing computer and other related equipment, along with the armory. Also smaller related buildings for administration, barracks, labs and such. You can tell Dr. Fraiser the hospital's being set up as we speak, between the SGC and the rest of the settlement."

"Gotta say I'm impressed, Major," Jack comments. "Didn't expect to see so much up already in record time."

"Thank you, sir. You might say we've had sufficient motivation, what with Zero Hour coming up and all. There's still a lot to do, but you're just in time for our latest accomplishment. Yesterday we got Major Carter's naquadah generators hooked up," with a nod to Sam, who grins in reply, "along with supplemental wind turbines and solar arrays. One of the salvaging teams found the parts for us at a manufacturing plant outside of the Springs, thanks to MacGyver's suggestion. In fact, we're ready for the inauguration of the New Earth Power Company, if you all can stick around until dusk."

"Well," Jack drawls, "the General did want a detailed progress report. You're giving us the ten-cent tour, Major. Might as well get our money's worth."

****************

Becky leans against the grass, savoring the warmth of the sun- similar to their own, according to Sam- on her face. As a light breeze plays with her hair, she swears she can hear the trees whispering Welcome, you belong here.

It's true she feels oddly at peace. Maybe because it reminds her of home, though not Los Angeles. Further back in Oregon, the Willamette Valley where she grew up. Similar layout.

Good to be outside after spending months cooped up underground anyway, even if it is on another planet elsewhere in the Milky Way. A fact which still kinda blows her mind.

Not to mention it's early summer here, when it's December back on Earth. Or it would be if the planet wasn't busy tearing itself apart. According to Akimoto the end could come as soon as New Year's--

She stops that train of thought. Enough dwelling on the inevitable, it's time to focus on what's ahead. They'll make something good of this new world, she's sure of it. Learning from the mistakes of the past as Alvarez said.

She has to admit the spot Jack found for their picnic is close to ideal- a gentle ridge overlooking the settlement, secluded fishing pond behind them near the treeline. All it needs is a cabin and dock to resemble Harry's old place back in Minnesota.

Jack stretches out, tipping the brim of his cap over his eyes. "This is the life, ain't it? Soon as we move here I'm claiming this as our official picnicking spot. Ours alone."

"It is pretty nice," Daniel agrees. His eyes are closed and head tilted up, like a flower seeking sunlight.

"Indeed." Teal'c sits cross-legged, as if practicing his kel'no'reem. "Most peaceful."

"Becky? What do you think?"

"It's great, Uncle Jack. Real pretty."

"Carter? Mac? How about you guys?"

No reply.

Jack sits up, frowns. "Anybody know where they are?"

Becky spies the drone approaching behind him, Mac handling the remote control a distance away. Sam puts a finger to her lips and winks.

"I'm serious, guys. What happened to them? And what's that buzzing sound?"

The drone swoops down on Jack, narrowly missing him by mere inches.

"Gah!" He jumps to his feet, batting at his hair and knocking his cap off in the process. "What the hell was that?" by reflex reaching for his P90 and cursing when he remembers he'd left it behind this time. 

Mac laughs, making the drone dance to and fro in a mocking motion. "Heads up, Jack!"

"Carter!"

"Sorry, sir," Sam says, valiantly fighting a grin. "Your brother insisted he be the first to test it."

Teal'c raises an expressive eyebrow, otherwise stoic though dark eyes hold a glint of humor.

Becky and Daniel collapse against each other, howling with laughter.

Jack scowls, jamming the cap back onto his head. "Not funny, guys. Hand over the remote already."

"Oh, I thought it was hilarious," Mac says with a grin, keeping it away from his brother's grasp. He tosses it to Sam. "Works fine so far. Should we try out the sensors next?"

"Give it to me, Carter. That's an order."

"Sorry, sir. Not until after we finish with the tests. Which could take a while." Sam's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"Guess you'll have to wait your turn, huh?" Mac teases. "Think you can be patient that long?"

"Fine, whatever," he grumbles. "Have it your way." He turns to a still-sniggering Becky and Daniel. "All right you two. Stop it."

"Stop what?" she asks with a wide-eyed, innocent expression.

"Yeah, Jack," Daniel smirks. "Stop what?"

He fixes them with a glare, though his lips twitch in wry amusement. "I've got the most incorrigible team in the entire SGC, no doubt of it."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way."

He breaks into a wide grin. "Damn right I wouldn't."

****************

Several hours later Becky sits in the Gate meadow with the others after sharing dinner on site with Alvarez and his team. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, smelling the sweet and intoxicating scent from flowers drifting in the early evening breeze, watching as the sunset over the western range shades the sky from red-orange upwards to dark violet and midnight blue. Above the mountains to the east a great gleaming moon arises in pale iridescent blue, its lustrous companion following a few minutes later in pearly lavender.

"Good thing you held onto your telescope, huh?" Mac remarks quietly to Jack.

"Oh, yeah," admiring the stars as they appear in unfamiliar constellations, the Milky Way a pale streak against the velvet darkness of space.

This has to be one of the most gorgeous evenings Becky's ever seen. And to think she got to because of taking one small step into the unknown.

"Look at the moons," Daniel says beside her, voice soft so as not to break the spell.

"Yeah," she breathes. "Beautiful, aren't they. What a night. I'm really glad I got to come with you guys."

"So am I." He pauses. "Becky?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you thought about my offer yet? I'm sorry if I came on too strong earlier. I get that way sometimes, Jack will tell you as much. But I was under the impression you enjoyed working with me, and I really like working with you too, and..." He turns to her with such an anxious look in his eyes. "I mean- we're good, right?"

She wants to help, she really does. She enjoys his company, and the work's as rewarding as what she did at Phoenix, maybe even more so. Surely together they can make a real difference.

So why so hesitant to agree earlier?

Perhaps she had to take that step into the unknown first. Which as it turns out wasn't bad at all. Downright exhilarating, even.

Much like working with Daniel.

Moreover, it feels right. Like it's meant to be.

"Yeah, we're good. And I'd like to. Be your assistant, I mean."

He beams at her in a rare, brilliant, genuine grin. "That's great. I was hoping you'd say that. I'm so glad." He pulls her close, the solid warmth of his body against hers making her heart skip a beat.

"Me, too." And she is glad. She really is.

The settlement's abruptly bathed in light. Everyone cheers.

Jack stands up and turns to his team. "All right, campers. Let's dial up and go home. We'll be back soon enough."

The blue-white shimmer of the event horizon rivals the brightness of the LED streetlamps.

With confidence she steps through, no longer afraid.

Chapter Text

One week to Zero Hour.

Everything's as ready as it can possibly get, on both sides of the Gate. Hopefully at this point they're prepared enough to ensure their survival.

Becky stands shoulder to shoulder with Mac, Janet, Jack and the others behind General Hammond. He patiently talks to the gathered refugees, describing the dire situation outside of Cheyenne Mountain and the safe haven awaiting them on New Earth.

Smart timing on the General's part. While they remain grateful to be protected from the chaos outside a certain sense of cabin fever has naturally crept in here and there over the past couple months, minor altercations easily broken up by a combination of base security and peer pressure.

A variety of emotions cross their faces as Hammond speaks, followed by Dr. Giovanni and the psychologist from Alpha Base, Kate Heightmeyer. Fear and confusion, denial and concern. But above all relief, along with something they surely haven't felt in a long time.

A glimmer of hope.

During the Christmas party afterwards (Hammond playing the part of Santa, red cap, beard and all) she and Mac spend time recounting their first trip through the Gate, describing New Earth and the settlement. Soothing fears, offering reassurances until anticipation replaces anxiety once more.

It's a good feeling, knowing she can help out in even this small fashion.

A good feeling in general, working for the SGC. Being a part of something bigger.

****************

Two whole days to evacuate the refugees and others not deemed essential for base operations to New Earth.

Administrative personnel are among the first to leave, ready to assist Major Alvarez and his team in processing the new arrivals. Dr. Giovanni and other scientists are relocating as well, preparing to teach the settlers everything they need to know about their new world.

Refugees are escorted in small orderly groups past the checkpoint and taken down directly to Level 28. Even after accepting the General's assurances of their safety many are understandably nervous yet no one turns around to flee, which Becky takes as a good sign.

Becky and Daniel stand in the control room, watching people move in a steady stream up the ramp. Parents carry young children or hold their hands, others are assisted by Corporal Perkins and other Marines. Norris stands off to one side, glowering at all and sundry ever since Hammond reprimanded him when Jack relayed Daniel's concerns.

Fortunately he's the exception. She's gotten to know so many others over the past few months around the base, or at least made their acquaintance. Good people. Kind, decent.

The latest group disappears into the event horizon. An inexplicable wave of sadness almost overwhelms her, as if she'll never see them again.

Which is ridiculous, considering Zero Hour's less than a week away. The emotions remain though.

She instinctively reaches out to Daniel, seeking comfort or at the very least a sense of connection. His larger hand grasps her smaller one, long fingers wrapping around to give a light, reassuring squeeze.

She's just about to pull her hand back when his fingertips brush against hers, stilling her movement. Carefully turning her hand towards him, trailing butterfly-light patterns across her palm with his thumb then lightly sweeping over the pulse point at her wrist.

Becky closes her eyes, savoring the casual intimacy of the moment. Awareness of her surroundings fades to just the joining of their hands, the flame running through her body at his touch. 

Eventually the Gate shuts off. Walter and other technicians begin their usual post-activation inspections and adjustments.

Jack bounds into the room. "There you two are. C'mon upstairs with me kids, we've got a briefing."

The spell broken, her hand reluctantly slips out of Daniel's grasp, though not without one last teasing, almost playful caress on his part. She raises an eyebrow at him and he winks.

She follows him up the stairs, faintly bewildered.

****************

Life under Cheyenne Mountain used to be about saving the world. Now all that matters is preserving whatever they have and transporting it to New Earth. Where the work will become saving and developing that world instead for future generations, should they survive long enough.

Daniel takes one last look around the empty lab, stripped of everything that's given him a purpose for the past several years. Artifacts and reference materials, furniture and computers. Each item carefully catalogued and packed by himself and Becky, then transported through the Gate to occupy the small group of temporary buildings designated as the New Earth SGC's Department of Archaeology, Linguistics and Anthropology.

Archaeology has labels for every era. Paleolithic, Mesolithic, Neolithic. Copper, Bronze, Iron. Each one signifying the predominant tool-making material of the period.

It's an odd discipline sometimes, he has to admit. The existence of whole civilizations extrapolated from shreds of evidence and shards of meaning.

Perhaps their own era ought to be called the Plastic or Disposable Age, judging by the material crowding present-day landfills. Significant discoveries have been made in the middens of the past, after all.

Moot point in any case, as soon there won't even be an Earth remaining to be examined by future scientists. The planet's well on its way to destroying itself completely from the inside out.

Though it's not like he's out of a job by any means. Plenty of discoveries left to be made throughout the galaxy, once they get permanently settled on New Earth.

He despairs of the loss, all the same. So many mysteries and secrets forever remaining undiscovered.

Two days to Zero Hour. The end of one era, and the beginning of another at the same time. Old Earth's chapter is done. Finished.

He gives himself a mental shake. Enough brooding.

Time to leave the past in the past. Focus on the here and now.

Keep your feet on the ground, Danny.

He flicks the light off and shuts the door one last time.

****************

Jack reaches into the cooler for a bottle of beer, nodding thanks to Sergeant White sitting watch nearby before taking a swallow.

Better savor it, he thinks. Might be one of the last in a long while, or at least until they start trading with other worlds who know how to produce a decent brew.

Or figure it out on their own. There must be instructions somewhere in all those books they picked up. How hard can it be, really?

Hammond's allowed discipline to be relaxed for this one night: part New Year's Eve party, part wake for the late great Planet Earth. Scientists and military, men and women alike swarm the corridors and rooms. A few stick to their respective divisions while the majority mix and mingle freely.

Hopefully a sign of future relations to come in the new settlement.

What will his own life be like, on New Earth? Probably more of the same as pre-apocalypse: going on missions, seeking every advantage they can get over the System Lords, Replicators or any other menace the universe decides to throw at them. Only with far fewer resources to hand and the added challenge of growing and maintaining a new settlement at the same time.

Still, the human race has proved pretty scrappy so far, and those in the SGC- himself included- the scrappiest of all. No way in hell they're going down without a fight.

In the mess an impromptu dance floor has been set up and many are dancing to the music coming from the PA, courtesy of Harriman's portable CD player and extensive collection. Classic oldies mostly, plus some decent contemporary stuff that's got Jack's feet tapping to the beat despite himself.

He drains the bottle and sets it on a nearby table. With deceptively casual ease born from long years of training he scans the crowd for anything amiss.

Becky's standing against the opposite wall, a look of uncertainty on her face. "Hey, kiddo," he says as he joins her. "Enjoying yourself?"

She sighs. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that. Anyone asked you to dance yet?"

She shakes her head. "You know me, short and easy to overlook." A hint of bitterness flavors her words.

He frowns a little. Growing up she's always been socially awkward, though Mac claims she did just fine during her time as his ward, making friends and everything. He knows she's made a few on base apart from his team but even so it must be tough, given the current circumstances.

Never mind she's earned her place on the program as Daniel's official assistant, and a damn good linguist in her own right. She's still his niece.

"Hey now," he chides gently, caressing her cheek with a long finger. "Don't talk like that. I see you just fine, Beck. Anyone who deliberately overlooks you around here will have to answer to me. Count on it."

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "Good ol' Uncle Colonel, always looking out for me."

He chuckles, bending to kiss her forehead. "You bet."

Not too far away he spies Daniel standing with arms loosely crossed over his chest, sporting his own uncertain look. Another classic introvert.

He catches his friend's eye and cocks his head in Becky's direction. Daniel counters with raised eyebrows. Jack nods in reply. Their unique, team-specific form of nonverbal communication, developed over the course of many missions together.

Finally Daniel nods acknowledgment and weaves his way through the crowd towards them. Becky's too distracted by the dancing couples to notice.

He taps her shoulder lightly to get her attention and she startles a little, blinking up at him. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey yourself. Would you like to dance?" He smiles, offers his hand.

"You're asking me? Really?" A faint flush tints her cheeks. "Um, sure. I mean, if that's okay with you, Uncle Jack?"

For all he plays at being the dumb colonel, Jack likes to think he's pretty perceptive. He's seen the shared glances, how they band together, support one another. The awareness they have of each other's proximity most of the time. All of it instinctively, without realizing they're doing it. 

He's a pretty good matchmaker, if he does say so himself.

He grins, giving Daniel a wink. "Don't worry about me, Beck. You kids go have fun, that's an order."

Carter comes up alongside as they leave. "They make a really cute couple, don't they sir?"

"Yeah. They do." Jack considers his 2IC out of the corner of his eye. Gorgeous, whether in BDUs or blouse and denim jacket like she's wearing now since Hammond also eased up on the dress code for the occasion.

He wonders about asking her to dance, and damn the fraternization rules.

What the hell. It's the end of the world, right? Hammond's even looking the other way tonight.

Now or never.

"Care to cut a rug, Carter?"

Sapphire eyes blink at him in surprise, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I'd like that very much, sir."

****************

Daniel leads Becky onto the dance floor. After a few initial fumbles adjusting to each other's height they're soon swaying easily to the music. Anticipating each other, just like they do when working.

"Penny for your thoughts," he says, smiling fondly down at her. She really is pretty. Attractive, even.

"Jack and Sam make a really nice couple, don't they? I wish they could be one for real, even if it goes against regulations. Maybe in secret."

He smiles at the sight of his friends and teammates enjoying themselves, Sam laughing as Jack expertly twirls her around. "You're right. I think if we put our heads together we can come up with a matchmaking plan or two."

Put our heads together. Now why does that phrase evoke images of kissing those soft, full lips? He gives himself a mental shake.

"You know, you dance pretty well, for an archaeologist." She's staring at him through lowered lashes, a glint of humor in her eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself, for a linguist." He pulls her close, adding a small dip that makes her laugh, a soft tinkling sound he loves to hear. Her glasses slip down her nose and he gently pushes them back up.

"Thanks." She gratefully leans into his hand as it lingers on her cheek.

"My pleasure."

Becky's been more and more on Daniel's mind of late, not surprising since they've been working together so closely over the past few months. How they always seem to finish each other's thoughts, the excitement shared with every new discovery. The instant rapport between them he first noticed in Seattle, which he hasn't encountered with anyone else.

He wonders if he's ready for another relationship, as it's barely been a year since losing Sha're.

Would it be dishonoring her memory, if he's falling for Becky instead?

He has no idea.

****************

"You know, I forgot just how light Jack is on his feet," Mac notes dryly, watching his brother with amusement as he spins Sam around. "They do seem to be enjoying themselves."

Janet grins. "Looks like they aren't the only ones," indicating Becky and Daniel dancing together. She laughs as he playfully dips her, her glasses slipping down her nose as she straightens. He gently nudges them back into place with a finger, an affectionate gesture. His hand cups her cheek and she closes her eyes, leaning into his touch.

She's wholly at ease with him, which so far as Mac knows hasn't occurred with any other man except for himself and Jack, including the handful of boyfriends she's had in the past. He's never willingly pried into her personal life but the one time he did she claimed to share no sense of connection with them, or at least not enough to take the next step into intimacy. For which Mac's honestly grateful.

This thing she has with Jackson seems different, however. Jack's pretty perceptive under his dumb flyboy persona, and according to him Daniel's a good man. Mac has no reason not to trust the guy's intentions towards her.

All the same he feels a twinge of nostalgia deep within his heart, for the baby he once cradled in his arms, the little girl in braids laughing as he swings her around in a secret meadow, the teenager standing all forlorn at a gravesite for three coffins. Now a vibrant young woman, dancing with the man who may well capture her heart soon if he hasn't already.

Hopefully he won't break it, or she'd be devastated.

Mac can't bear to see that happen to his princess. She deserves some happiness after everything she's gone through since he became her guardian, even though to this day she insists she's never regretted choosing to live with him.

"Don't worry about her and Daniel," Janet says, as if reading his mind. "They both deserve to be happy. They'll be good for each other."

"He does seem pretty taken with her. Hope it works out."

"It will, I'm sure of it." She stands up from her chair, offering her hand. "And speaking of being taken with each other," with an impish glint in her beautiful brown eyes, "how about a dance, Mac?"

He grins. "Thought you'd never ask, doc."

He enjoys being with her. A lot. And judging by the brilliant smile she bestows on him as he takes her in his arms, the feeling appears to be mutual.

Maybe their luck really is changing, for himself as well as his niece.

Figures it would be happening at the literal end of the world, though.

****************

Eventually Daniel confesses to needing a break, and others are suddenly intent on having Becky for a partner. Corporal Perkins- whose first name is Edward- turns out to be a pretty nice guy and a good dancer. Sheppard's visiting from Alpha Base, claiming her with a grin for a lively spin around the floor to a Johnny Cash tune. A fellow major he knows named Evan Lorne catches her hand next, followed by irrepressibly cheerful Cam Mitchell, a Lt. Colonel and friend of theirs on Alpha.

As always, all the good-looking guys are taller than her. Not that she really minds.

Even Teal'c politely requests a dance, holding her with a certain delicacy, his graceful movements belying his immense size and strength. "You're doing very well," she ventures.

"As are you, Becky Grahme. If I may make an observation?"

"You may." While they've always been quite cordial towards each other she's curious what he has to say.

"You and Daniel Jackson have become very close since you arrived with MacGyver."

"We have. I like working with him. A lot, as it happens."

"As he does with you. Would it be prudent to assume that you have, as you Tau'ri call them, romantic feelings for each other as well?"

She blinks in surprise. Straight to the point as always. "Yeah. I...I guess so. I really enjoy his company. Not sure why he'd have any about me, though. I'm nothing special."

"You are wrong, Becky Grahme. I have spoken to O'Neill and MacGyver. They have both remarked on your curiosity and thoughtfulness towards others, your bravery in the face of danger. Those are also qualities belonging to Daniel Jackson. You will do very well together as a couple."

"You really think so?"

"Indeed. Any offspring you produce will surely be most learned."

She stumbles, staring wide-eyed up into the Jaffa's serene features. Swears she sees an amused gleam in his eyes, a faint upward twist to his lips.

Good lord, is he actually joking with her?

"Um, yeah," she says faintly. "I...I hope so."

"As do I. Thank you for assisting me in this activity. I find it a most pleasant means of recreation."

"Me, too. Thanks for the advice."

A pleased nod. "You are welcome."

****************

Becky keeps going back to his words as she heads for the ladies' restroom during a break. It's almost too much to process.

Daniel having romantic feelings for her, of all people? Impossible. And yet Teal'c has proven to be more observant of his friends and teammates than he lets on. Surely he must be right.

Personal hygiene completed she emerges into the deserted corridor still reeling, uncertain what to do with this new information. Maybe look for Sam and Janet, ask their advice-

A pair of strong arms abruptly grab her from behind, trapping her arms. A man's voice hisses in her ear, "Not one word, brat, if you know what's good for you."

"Let go of me," she gasps, the pungent smell of cheap liquor filling her nostrils.

"Dammit, I said be quiet!" pushing her forwards to the floor, her hands stinging from the impact of hitting hard concrete. She tries rolling away but one of his legs immediately lands on both of hers, pinning her down.

"You're not going anywhere, brat." One hand clamps over her right wrist, twisting her arm painfully behind her back. Another covers her mouth before she can cry for help.

"Damned civilians. Gonna teach you a lesson." Her stomach twists at the familiar voice, thickened with inebriation. When she's flipped onto her back she's not surprised to see Lieutenant Norris hovering over her with hatred burning in those creepy colorless eyes, heavy breathing hot on her face as he fumbles with the buttons on her blouse.

Becky grits her teeth, trying to stay calm. Panicking will only make it worse, according to her self-defense teachers back in the day.

She squirms a bit, manages to get her arms in the right position, shoving him from her just far enough so she can scream for help with all the breath in her body.

"Shut up, brat," backhanding her several times across the face. Then he's on her again, one of his hands pinning her wrists together as the other fumbles with her jeans.

Ordinarily she'd be no match for his hand-to-hand training. But the jerk's so drunk right now she might have a chance to get away soon.

He lets go of her wrists, intent on pulling her jeans further down. Seizing the opportunity she folds both of her hands into a single tight fist and lunges upright, hitting him in the center of his chest with all the strength in her arms and upper torso, forcing him off her to the floor.

He's off-balance enough to flounder a bit. "Why, you little--"

Becky scrambles to her feet, bolting down the corridor. Why does what was a short distance before seem impossibly long now?

She's almost made it to safety when he catches up with her, lunging and grabbing an ankle. She shrieks and falls backwards, wincing as she lands on the floor for a second time.

Norris looms above her, pulling a field knife from his belt. "Teach you a lesson you'll never forget, brat."

He's a trained marine, and all she's had are self-defense classes.

She knows she doesn't have a chance.

****************

Jack stiffens at the sudden tingle down his spine.

"Something wrong, sir?" Carter looks up at him curiously.

Nearby his brother has a similar expression of unease. "You okay, Mac?" Janet inquires.

They share a knowing look, twin to twin. "Becky's in trouble," Jack says.

"Better check it out," Mac agrees.

As one they swiftly leave the dance floor, the women glancing at each other then following in their wake.

****************

Daniel's thinking about heading to his quarters when he hears Becky's screams. Automatically he hurries in her direction.

She's sprawled on the floor, clothing in disarray. A look of fear in her eyes.

Norris towers over her, the same guy who harassed her a couple weeks ago. With a knife in his hand and features contorted in anger.

Thankful for the training sessions with Jack and Teal'c his foot shoots out, knocking the weapon out of the lieutenant's hand. Norris bellows in surprise. Before he can retaliate Daniel pulls his fist back, belting him soundly in the jaw.

He staggers but remains upright. Marines have a reputation for being pretty tough, and he's no exception.

He lunges for Daniel, murder in his eyes. "Damned four-eyes, I'll get you for that--"

Two meaty arms grab him from behind, pinning his arms to his body. "You should be grateful we are not on Chulak, Lieutenant Norris," Teal'c says. "Or I would be well within my rights to dismember you."

Norris struggles in the Jaffa's strong grasp. "Let go of me, you alien freak!"

"Watch it, Lieutenant." Jack's voice is deceptively calm though rage simmers within his narrowed gaze. "I wouldn't insult him if I were you. He's like the Hulk when he gets angry. Danny, give Becky a hand would ya?"

Daniel kneels beside her as she struggles to sit, pulling up her jeans, buttoning her blouse with shaky hands. He touches her lightly on the shoulder and she flinches. "It's okay," he soothes. "You're safe now."

She says nothing but her eyes frantically dart from side to side. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find my glasses, he must've knocked them off somehow. Oh god, where are they? What did he do to them?"

He spies them behind her unharmed and hands them over. "Here they are. Mind if I help you up?"

After a moment's hesitation she allows him to slip an arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she stands and balances on unsteady legs. "Whoa..."

"Here Daniel, I've got her." Janet takes Becky out of his hands, leading her a short distance away from the action. "Easy now. I just want to check you out real quick, okay? Anything broken?"

"No, he just hit me a few times. My cheek hurts..."

Jack stares after them, jaw clenching. Without asking Sam immediately moves to their side, a protective shield against both the ongoing action and curious spectators.

Teal'c tightens his grip on Norris even more, who squawks in protest. "Colonel, I insist you tell this...this freak to let me go! He can't treat me like this. I'm an officer in the Marine Corps, goddammit!"

Jack slowly turns to him. "Is that so," he drawls, voice even more cold and dangerous than earlier. "T, you heard the guy. Let him go."

"As you wish, O'Neill," without ceremony dumping Norris on the floor, who sprawls in an undignified heap before reaching for an ankle holster.

"Watch it, Jack!" Mac calls out. "He's got a gun."

Before Norris can aim Jack swiftly kicks it away from his grasp and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, shoving the marine lieutenant hard against a nearby wall. "What the hell are you doing with my niece?" he demands. "Give me one good reason why I don't just shoot you right now."

"Colonel O'Neill, stand down! That's an order!" Hammond's voice is stern enough to command instant obedience.

Jack scowls but releases Norris, who slumps briefly against the wall before straightening.

No one moves an inch, pinned by the General's intense scrutiny.

"Now," Hammond says, his voice controlled although eyes flash with anger. "Just what in blue blazes is going on here?"

Becky clears her throat and steps forward, supported by Sam and Janet on either side. "General, if I may?"

He frowns slightly but makes no move to stop her. "Go ahead."

She glances at her uncles, who each nod encouragement. Be brave, Jack mouths at her.

"I was on my way out of the ladies' restroom when Lieutenant Norris assaulted me from behind. He...He..." Her voice wavering, she takes a deep breath. "He tried to undress me, force me to...He wanted to..." She turns scarlet, unable to continue.

Sam and Janet both pat her arms in support. Jack grimaces. Mac closes his eyes, swallows. Teal'c glowers at Norris.

Daniel feels a surge of sympathy for Becky. A sudden longing seizes him, to hold her in his arms, ease her suffering. Keep her forever safe from anyone wishing her harm.

Hammond raises his hand, preventing further embarrassment. "Say no more, Dr. Grahme. I understand. Thank you."

"This isn't the first time he's harassed her," Corporal Perkins blurts out, then belatedly realizes he's talking to the Base Commander. "Sir."

Norris glares at him but says nothing.

Hammond frowns. "Explain, Corporal."

"It happened a couple weeks ago when she visited the Gateroom. To take a closer look, she said. Wasn't causing any harm. He grabbed her arm, claiming she didn't belong there. Major Sheppard can attest to that."

"Very well, Corporal. Major?"

Sheppard steps forward from the gathered onlookers, nods grim assent. "He's right, sir. Norris wanted Perkins here to help escort her up to the refugees, convinced she was one of them. He didn't like it at all when I showed her ID badge to prove she belonged with us."

"Thank you, Major. Lieutenant, do you have anything to say in defense?"

Norris stiffens under Hammond's scrutiny. "This is a military base, sir. Civilians have no place here. They're always underfoot. I was teaching her a lesson!"

Jack and Mac both frown, as does Daniel. Some lesson.

Time to step forward. "General, this isn't the first time he's harassed civilians on the base. It's been going on even before the quakes started. There are others willing to give statements, if you want to hear them."

"I see. Thank you, Dr. Jackson." He nods to Major Lorne and two SFs standing by. "Escort the lieutenant to the stockade while I determine the best course of punishment."

Norris quietly fumes as he's led away, glaring at everyone but especially Becky. She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze but doesn't cower, to her credit.

Gives her the creeps, as she once said. Gives Daniel the creeps too. Just like Sanderson.

Hammond's hard expression softens as he turns to her. "Dr. Grahme," he says gently, "you have my sincere apologies for what happened here. Do you wish to press charges?"

"No, sir. But if I may make a suggestion for punishment all the same?"

"Go ahead."

She takes a deep breath, sets her mouth in a thin line. "Exile."

Hammond frowns slightly. "Elaborate, please."

"Send him to one of the other bases. A permanent duty, with no chance whatsoever of reassignment to New Earth."

"And why should I do that, instead of other options?"

She swallows. "Sir, we're humans, right? We should therefore be humane, even to the likes of him. So few of us left, you see. Someone like him can still be put to use."

Mac slowly nods his approval. Jack purses his lips in thought, says nothing, though the fierce glint in his dark eyes echoes Daniel's own sudden hot desire to make Norris pay dearly for harming her.

"Thank you, Dr. Grahme. I'll take your recommendation under advisement. In the meantime, do you require medical treatment in the infirmary?"

"Apart from some bumps and bruises forming she's fine, sir," Janet says before Becky can respond. "No other signs of assault. She should apply an ice pack to the worst one on her cheek but she can stop by for that later."

"Very well. Dr. Jackson, if you'll please escort Dr. Grahme elsewhere and keep an eye on her while I make my decision?"

"Of course, General. Come on," he says, gently placing an arm around her shoulders. "Let's get out of here."

"Sanderson all over again, I swear," she grumbles as he leads her away. "Didn't I tell you he reminded me of the guy?"

"At least he's getting what he deserves. Never would've thought of exile, though."

"Me, too. Guess I kinda surprised myself." She pauses. "You seem to be making a habit out of defending me, just like in Seattle. Thanks."

Daniel smiles at the memory. The first time he'd had the courage to stand up to a bully, despite being a pacifist. "You're welcome. Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. He only hit me, didn't do anything worse. I still have my dignity at least." She frowns slightly as he takes her to the elevator. "Where are we going?"

"There's something I've been meaning to show you for a while," he admits, somewhat abashed. "I just now remembered you haven't seen it yet, and I really want you to."

"I take it you're not talking about your quarters?"

He blinks at her then relaxes. Just like Jack, to maintain a sense of humor despite everything. "Much more interesting, I promise."

****************

Daniel leads her to a large room across the corridor from the Gateroom, otherwise empty save for a segmented stone disc twenty feet high mounted on a metal frame and illuminated by spotlights.

He's come here every now and then over the years, to remind himself where it all began. With Catherine Langford and the coverstone.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, wow," she breathes. "Is that what I think it is?"

He nods. "Buried with the Gate ten thousand years ago, then uncovered by Catherine's father in the 1920s. It's going to be dismantled and shipped through the Gate first thing tomorrow and it may take a while before we set it back up. I wanted you to see it before then."

"It's too bad she never made it here when the quakes started. From what you've said I would've liked her."

"I think she would've liked you, too."

"That's the address for Abdyos in the center cartouche, right? I'm kinda surprised it wasn't a warning instead, considering everything you guys have gone through since."

"Me too," he admits with a rueful chuckle.

"Yeah, I--" She sways a bit. "Oh, jeez. Feel really weird all of a sudden."

Probably post-adrenaline crash, Daniel figures. "Why don't we rest for a while right over here," he suggests, guiding her to the wall opposite the coverstone.

"Good idea." She utters a soft groan as she slides down to the floor, her head resting against cool concrete. They share a companionable silence while contemplating the inscribed symbols.

"Daniel?" she asks after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about Abdyos, please?"

The memories remain painful, even a year after losing Sha're. He's never intended to share them with anyone. And yet he finds himself doing just that, with this young woman whose quiet nature invites the sharing of confidences.

He describes the vivid colors of desert sunrises and sunsets. The sharp, flinty smell of unrefined naquadah and the dust forever tickling his nose. The rest period in the heat of the day, the activity after the sun went down. Simple fare- oily flatbread and lizard-which-tastes-like-chicken (making her chuckle at his pathetic imitation). The light of three moons rising over the peak of the pyramid. The coolness within the temple as he studied the inscriptions on the walls.

Then to his surprise he reaches further back. The nasty rumors spread by Sanderson and the breakup with Sarah. Catherine recruiting him after the disastrous symposium in Denver and the insight that led him to discover the seventh symbol. The mission with Jack to explore the other side of the Gate. His accidental meeting with the Abdyonians, the equally accidental marriage to Sha're. The confrontation with Ra and his decision to stay. Jack appearing a year later with Sam through the Gate. The abduction of Sha're and her brother Skaara by Apophis and his joining SG-1 to search for them.

"We didn't find her until about a year ago. She was fighting Amaunet's control but it turned out to be a losing battle, even attempting to kill me herself. Teal'c got to her before she could succeed, and she died before my eyes. Everything at my disposal and I couldn't save her."

"I'm so sorry," Becky says quietly. "You must have loved her very much."

"I did," he admits with a small, sad smile. "I still miss her but I've made my peace with it."

"I can only imagine how awful it must've been for you, spending so many years searching for it to end like that. And for her. Abducted to serve as host, forced to submit--" She swallows. "As I almost was. Oh, god--" Leans forward on her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

For a few moments Daniel can only watch her, unsure what to do. He settles for placing a tentative hand on her back, rubbing in small slow circles. Her body quivers but makes no effort to reject his touch.

"It's okay," he says, keeping his voice soft and soothing. "You're fine. You're safe. It's over now."

"I know that," she gulps. "Intellectually I know that. But god, he came so close..." Tears trickle down her face.

He gathers Becky into his arms, letting her sob against his shirt.

His heart goes out to her. So strong and yet so fragile at the same time.

Smart and shrewd like Sarah, sweet and gentle like Sha're. Yet nothing at all like either of them. And he's glad.

Daniel wondered earlier if he was falling for her. Perhaps he is.

At length the tears stop. "Here," he says, offering a handkerchief.

"Thanks."

He patiently waits while she composes herself. "Feel better?"

"A little," she admits. Removes her glasses to rub at her eyes, blinking away the last remaining tears. "I must look a fright."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm ordinary. There's nothing special about me."

"You're wrong," he insists, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "You're brilliant, kind and caring, bringing joy to everyone around you. You're more special than you know."

She ducks her head, a flush tinting her cheeks. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that. Not compared to Sam and Janet, anyway. Or Uncle Mac's girlfriends- well, except for Deborah but then she turned out to be an assassin hired to get close in order to kill him--"

A gentle finger against her lips silences her. "You don't need to compare yourself with anyone else, Becky. You're remarkable in your own right, I've known that ever since Seattle. Trust me."

"If you say so," she says dubiously. She's an interesting paradox- generally open-minded yet skeptical when it comes to her own self-worth.

He's looking forward to convincing her otherwise.

"I do. Hey, would I lie to you?" His best wide-eyed innocent expression makes her chuckle.

Daniel reaches out to remove first her glasses then his, setting them aside. A small crease forms between her brows, otherwise raising no objection.

Beautiful eyes. Guileless, blue as a clear winter's sky. Gazing at him with puzzlement but no fear whatsoever.

His light touch on her face draws her near, their lips the merest breath apart. Just like when they had to hide under the desk during the tremor.

A moment of stillness, saying nothing. Simply breathing in each other.

He closes the distance, seeking her lips. Feeling the soft yielding warmth of them against his own.

Just like that one kiss in Seattle. So tender, so gentle, so sweet. Only this time he craves more.

Becky utters a quiet gasp as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her even closer. Brushes her lips against his, tentatively at first then with more confidence.

His mouth opens, his tongue teasing then parting hers to savor her sweetness. A moan escapes her as she tastes him in turn, her arms around his neck, combing through his hair. Kissing each other openly now with less hesitancy, more passion.

Their foreheads rest against each other once they finally part. "Oh Daniel," she breathes, "after all this time. I never thought--" 

The music on the PA stops. "Attention," Walter announces, "all personnel to the Gateroom. Repeat, all personnel to the Gateroom."

With reluctance Becky pulls away. "We'd better go."

"Yeah." Though he can't resist leaning in for one more sweet kiss, which she obliges.

They retrieve their glasses and stand up together, lingering. Enjoying the feel of being in each other's arms, the intensity of their connection.

"C'mon," he says, offering his hand. "Let's see what's going on next door."

"Sure." With a shy smile she places her hand in his.

****************

It's like walking on air, even though she's standing on her own two feet miles underground.

If Becky hadn't fallen for Daniel before this, she certainly has now.

Her heart goes out to him. Going through so much- including dying a few times- in his search for his lost wife, only to lose her forever just as they're reunited. Yet he keeps on going, heart scarred, eyes wise.

What's more, he thinks she's special. Beautiful, even.

And he kissed her. How about that.

All the amazing things she's seen and heard of over the past few months and she never saw it coming.

Her lips still tingle with the sensation as they stroll into the Gateroom hand in hand, joining Mac and Janet as they stand to one side of the ramp.

"You okay, Beck?" Mac asks softly, concern evident in his eyes.

She nods, accepting his hug and gentle kiss on the top of her head. "Either of you know what this is about?"

He looks to Janet, who shrugs. "Nope. How about you, Daniel?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Jack joins them, with Sam and Teal'c not far behind. "There you are, kiddo. Feeling better yet?" he asks with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

She shrugs. "A little. I'm not fine with what happened, but I'll live."

"That's good enough for me." He gestures to Mac and Daniel, leaning in close. His voice is low but Becky can't resist eavesdropping. "Hammond's made his decision. Shipped Norris off to Gamma base under escort ten minutes ago. He's out of our hair now."

Mac sighs in relief. "Thank god. That guy gave me the creeps."

"Any chance he'll get back to New Earth?" Daniel wants to know.

"Nope. Permanent posting, no chance of rotation or reassignment. He's not gonna have anything more to do with Becky or the rest of us if I can help it," Jack says firmly.

"Even if he does," Mac asserts, "we'll look out for our princess."

"You bet."

"Absolutely," Daniel agrees.

The fond glance in her direction from all three makes her cheeks flush. Not that she doesn't like the attention but surely she can take care of herself if the jerk ever shows up again.

It's not like she's a kid anymore, for crying out loud.

Hammond enters the room, military personnel automatically straightening to salute.

"At ease." He steps up onto the ramp, surveying those under his command. "Ladies and gentlemen, first I'd like to commend each and every one of you on a job well done in carrying out the contingency plan. You've performed your duties to the utmost in this time of grave danger and I'm proud of the esprit de corps and willingness to work demonstrated by everyone here. Together we've made a new world ready for settlement. Congratulations."

Everyone applauds. Airmen move among the crowd bearing trays, passing out paper cups full of punch.

"I trust tonight has prepared you to bid farewell to Old Earth and face the New with anticipation. At this time I'd like to ask all of you to join me in a toast." He raises his cup and everyone follows suit.

"To those who have served since the very beginning." Jack, Daniel, Sam, Teal'c and Janet trade significant looks.

"And to those whose time with us has just begun." Mac pulls Becky towards him in a sideways hug. Jack grins and winks at them.

"To those we've lost in the line of duty, and to everyone outside these walls who cannot join us- friends, foes and family alike." A respectful moment of silence.

"To those who defy the odds and manage to return to us even when all hope is gone." Jack raises playful eyebrows at Daniel, who rolls his eyes.

"And to those from elsewhere who stand by us, at our best and at our worst." Teal'c acknowledges with a solemn nod.

"Because there is no SGC without every single one of you, fighting the good fight, doing your absolute best to protect our home wherever it may be. Cheers."

"Hear, hear," Daniel and others murmur in response. They drain their cups.

Walter glances at the clock. "It's zero hundred hours. Happy New Year."

Silence fills the room.

Becky begins to sing, surprising even herself: "Should auld acquaintance be forgot..." Others around her join in, until the concrete walls resound with the familiar traditional melody of Auld Lang Syne.

She can't help feeling optimistic as she shares hugs and kisses with her uncles and the rest of their already tight-knit little group, especially Daniel.

But it's a different kind than the usual vague hope things will improve- or at least not get worse- in the coming year. More like a sense that something bigger and better's on the horizon, just a step away through the Gate.

The old world is ending. A new one's about to begin. Literally anything can happen.

Even falling in love.

Chapter Text

Shockwaves ripple upwards from the Earth's outer core, permanently destabilizing weakened layers of mantle and crust.

Unable to withstand further tectonic and seismic strain, the unstable supervolcano complex under Yellowstone National Park reaches a breaking point. Energies are released in one massive jolt, the force of the eruption reverberating through the entire length of the Rocky Mountains. Clouds of toxic ash and gases pour into an atmosphere already rendered uninhabitable over the past few months.

Accumulated tensions find their release in a devastating fashion, shaking Cheyenne Mountain to its very roots. Stone walls and floors reinforced with concrete and steel shiver and crack, raining debris down on personnel. Sparks fly as the machinery keeping air, water, temperature and everything else required to sustain life starts breaking down under the immense stress.

This is the way the world ends. With a bang, not a whimper.

****************

The glass panel of the star map rattles in its frame. Technicians scramble to keep computer banks from toppling over.

Daniel swallows, bracing himself against a wall through the aftershock. He's experienced the odd earthquake while working on digs, but nothing compared to this. Like another order of catastrophe altogether.

"Should I begin dialing for New Earth, sir?" Walter asks Hammond.

Behind him the General grips the back of his chair, struggling to remain in place. He grimaces, staring out the window at the quiescent Gate. "Do it. And sound the call for final evacuation as well."

Klaxons blare, lights flash as Walter makes the announcement. "Sir, what about some sort of headcount?"

Hammond frowns in thought. "No. Too many people will be passing through the Gate for an accurate assessment. Better do it on New Earth."

Within minutes people pour through the blast doors on either side, coming to an abrupt halt a safe distance from the Gate as it comes to life.

"Daniel!" Sam joins him, with Teal'c not far behind. "Have you seen the Colonel?"

"A few hours ago. Jack was grumbling about being sent upstairs for some sort of last minute sweep." He frowns, cocking his head. "But now that you mention it I haven't seen him since. Becky or Mac neither. How about you?"

Sam shakes her head. "I haven't, sorry. But they should be here soon, right?" Looking to Teal'c for confirmation.

"Indeed, Major Carter." There are times Daniel wishes he shares the Jaffa's seemingly unflappable confidence. Like right now.

The wormhole engages, the event horizon holding steady. As one the personnel assembled in the Gateroom turn to anxiously look up at their CO through the window, seeking permission.

"Go! Get out of here!" Hammond orders into the microphone. "That means the rest of you, too," he adds to everyone still in the control room. "This is it, people. Zero Hour. Now move!"

The exodus begins.

****************

Jack braces himself against the walls, cursing as the elevator car sways to and fro during a particularly bad aftershock. Evidently the springs underneath the base aren't compensating anymore.

Of course getting stuck in the elevator would have to happen now. Murphy's Law has been the SGC's unofficial motto since the very beginning, after all. The official one is Ad Astra- to the stars- but being a top-secret program it can't be used anywhere except on base. With the Gate becoming an open secret on New Earth that might change, however.

He picks up the emergency phone. No dial tone. "Dammit."

He punches random buttons just to see what might happen. Not that he has a head for mechanical problems like Mac and Sam but it's better than doing nothing.

Naturally it doesn't work. Just his luck.

Another aftershock rattles the car. Time to get the heck outta Dodge, as Mac would say.

He reaches the latch for the emergency access panel above him without difficulty. Hauls himself up and out, the car wobbling a bit as he balances carefully on top. With dismay he notes the steel cables holding the elevator fraying, on the verge of coming apart before his very eyes. More activity than usual plus the quakes must've really strained the system.

Running down the length of the shaft is a ladder used for maintenance. Takes some judicious swinging back and forth- putting more tension on the cables, but there's no help for it- to get close enough. After three tries he feels a brief sense of triumph when his hand grasps a rung. He pulls himself over the rest of the way.

Just in time, too. One last tremor's the final straw, the cables coming apart with a snap that makes his ears ring for a moment. He hangs onto the ladder for dear life as car and counterweight both drop swiftly into the darkness, missing him by mere inches. Followed by two loud crashes in swift succession as they land, one on top of the other way down at the bottom of the shaft.

Jack swallows. Could've been him in there if he'd lingered inside, smashed flat as a pancake.

He grimaces at the morbid thought, gives himself a mental shake. Time to get a grip, for crying out loud. No good comes of contemplating what might've been. He's a man of action, right?

Better find a door he can force open enough as soon as possible.

As he begins his descent Jack fleetingly wishes Mac was with him, so he can distract himself from his own anxiety by taunting his brother about his fear of heights. He may be an experienced pilot but it's a hell of a long way down.

Oh, well. It'll make for an amusing story they can all laugh at over beers, once settled on New Earth.

Nice to imagine but he's heard the klaxons, and Walter's announcement. No time for woolgathering.

Now he's gotta hustle.

****************

It's one thing to accept the fact the end of the world is near. Quite another when it actually happens.

They've been preparing for months and Becky can't even get herself to take Mac's hand and run. Should've left earlier with the auxiliary personnel but neither of them wanted to leave without Jack.

Cheyenne Mountain rocks to its very foundations. The klaxon's blaring. Their only way out now is through the Gate.

For some reason her legs still refuse to lift. It's getting hard to breathe.

"C'mon Beck," Mac urges. "We gotta get out of here."

She wants to, she really wants to.

But it's like she's suddenly rooted to the floor. "I...I can't move."

"You can do anything if you put your mind to it. Just take my hand. I've got you."

Becky swallows, tentatively reaches out for him. Almost brushing his fingertips.

The room trembles. There's a loud creaking, groaning sound above her head. Instead of lunging forward she swiftly snatches her hand back.

Mac's eyes widen. "What the heck--"

A section of the ceiling crashes down between them, accompanied by chunks of rubble and a cloud of dust. She staggers backwards, covering her head.

The room goes dark. Blindly she takes another step behind her, back colliding smartly against a wall. She makes a soft "oof" at the impact.

"Becky! You okay?"

She opens her mouth to reply and winds up coughing from inhaling dust. "Yeah, I think so," she finally manages. "But I'm trapped, Unc."

"Don't worry, I'll get you out. Just gotta make a hole big enough for you to get through. Hang on, alright?" She can hear him scrabbling at the rubble, digging her out with bare hands if he has to.

More creaks and groans from the floor above. Her surroundings shift in a foreboding manner.

Becky takes a deep breath, struggling to quell a rising sense of panic. It's not working.

She whimpers. Just like her nightmares- buried alive, no escape possible.

Oh god-Oh god-Oh god. Not again-Not again-Not again!

She yelps in surprise as a small chunk shakes loose from the jagged edge of the ceiling and hits the side of her face not already bruised, the sharp pain a welcome distraction. Her cheek stings as she touches it, feeling sticky blood on her fingers, the least of her worries right now.

"Beck? You sure you're okay? Heard you cry out."

Better get a grip already, for crying out loud. "I'm fine. How's it going on your side?"

"There's a lot of stuff in the way but I'm working on it. Just be brave and hold on."

"Right." Every time the odds are stacked against them he's saved the day, no matter what. He'll get her out. She has faith in him.

As for herself?

Becky takes a deep, shuddering breath. If ever she needs to be brave, it's gotta be now.

Easier said than done, though.

****************

Jack's lost track of how many levels he's passed by now. No luck in getting any doors open.

It's Zero Hour and he's in an underground elevator shaft and the mountain's likely to collapse on top of him with the next big shake. Just peachy.

Not the way he was planning to spend New Year's Day, that's for sure.

He sighs, resuming his steady climb down the ladder, one rung after another. He wants to rest but he's gotta keep going; Ellen Jackson-O'Neill-MacGyver didn't raise her kids to be quitters, after all.

Finally he's able to shove one set apart just enough so he can squeeze through. With a groan he sprawls on the concrete floor catching his breath, then forces himself to stand.

About ten minutes before automatic shut-off for the Gate, according to his watch. Better get a move on.

Jack orients himself, begins jogging down the corridor towards the stairwell at the other end.

****************

Daniel pauses on the ramp, taking one last look around the room.

Everyone else is gone. Only himself, Sam, Teal'c, Walter (faithful Gatekeeper to the end), and Hammond remain.

No sign yet of Jack though, or his brother.

Or Becky, for that matter.

Such sweet kisses they shared the other night. He craves more, even as he's beginning to despair of ever tasting her again.

Sam comes up alongside. "Don't worry, Daniel. I'm sure they're already on the other side. Bet you the Colonel's gonna make a show of tapping his watch and asking what kept us."

He smiles faintly. "You're probably right."

"All due respect General," Walter says, "we can't wait for any more stragglers. We need to leave now."

"I hear you, Sergeant." Hammond strides through the event horizon, the others following behind.

Before stepping through himself Daniel murmurs a passage from The Spells of Coming Forth by Day under his breath, just in case: "My heart is as light as a feather. There is no sin in my body. I have not spoken that which is not true knowingly, nor have I done anything with a false heart..."

For Jack, and Mac. But mostly for Becky, who out of them all may be worthy of the best afterlife possible.

If worst comes to worst he'll mourn their loss tomorrow, as deeply and honestly as he knows how.

For now this is the least he can do, to speed them on their way.

****************

The corridors are achingly empty as never before. Jack figures he has to be the last man on Earth.

Or maybe not, as a sudden shiver tickles along his spine. It's a little wacko but due to recent events he's come to think of it as a Spidey-sense regarding his family, especially when they're in trouble nearby.

Nah, not possible. Surely they evacuated to New Earth with the others by now. Gotta be his imagination, right?

He staggers as the base shakes again. There's a sudden loud crash the next room over, and Mac's voice calling out for Becky.

Okay, so maybe he's not going nuts after all. Better check it out, despite the time crunch.

His eyes widen at the ragged gap in the ceiling above, his brother struggling to move a heap of rubble with his bare hands. "Need some help?"

Mac turns his head, just as startled. "Jack! What the heck are you still doing here?"

"Could ask you the same question. What's going on?"

"Becky's on the other side. I'm trying to get this slab out of the way. See anything I could use as a lever?"

Jack looks around. While he may not have his twin's talent, he can think outside the box when needed.

He spies a piece of rebar and hefts it. "How about this?"

Mac nods. "Looks long enough. I'll use that chunk of concrete over there as a fulcrum." He sets the rebar in place, shoving one end under the slab. "Becky, you need to keep as far back as you can. We got a lever set up, but we don't want you to get hurt if anything slips."

"Who's with you? I thought we were the only ones here." Her voice is faint, but clear.

Jack shares a look with Mac. "It's me, Beck. Do what he says, okay? Don't worry, we'll get ya out of there in no time."

"Please hurry. It's dark and cold and oh god, I can't breathe--" Her breathing quickens alarmingly.

He shares a concerned look with Mac, who nods confirmation. Panic attack. Probably residual PTSD, from getting caught in that landslide.

No time to panic themselves, though.

"Easy, kiddo," Jack says in a soothing tone. "You've got plenty of air. Just cup your hands in front of your face like you're warming them up, okay? Nice deep breaths."

After a short while she says weakly, "Okay, I'm better now. I think."

"Good girl. You're gonna be just fine. Alright Mac, let's move this sucker." On the count of three they haul like hell on the rebar, the slab eventually shifting enough for them to move it out of the way. Working together they quickly clear a hole big enough for Becky to climb through.

Finally she emerges, covered in dust, a trickle of blood on her right cheek, last night's bruise already showing on her left. They help steady her as she carefully makes her way over the pile. When at the bottom she insists on a brief hug from each. "Thank you," she says fervently.

"No problem. You're pretty brave yourself, you know," Jack murmurs, gently patting her back. "Piece of cake, right?"

"Not to sound ungrateful for the assist, Jack," Mac says, "but why are you still here in the first place?"

"Bathroom break. C'mon kids, let's blow this joint."

They dash down two flights of stairs and hurry down corridors to the Gateroom, dodging scattered chunks of debris and burst pipes billowing steam. The blast doors are partially closed, it takes all three to shove them open.

There's nothing so beautiful as that blue-white shimmer, filling the room with a calm, unearthly glow.

"Thank god," Becky breathes. "We're gonna make it."

And then the entire room quivers with the force of a single powerful jolt from floor to ceiling. Windows shatter outwards with the impact, already weakened by months of accumulated stress. Automatically ducking their heads, he and Mac raise their arms to shield Becky and each other from the glass shards raining down upon them.

Enough. Time to get gone. The event horizon's holding steady, promising a way out.

Five steps to go.

Four.

A high-pitched hum fills the air, eerie counterpart to the deep enduring rumble, volume increasing with every second.

Jack knows that sound. Gate overload. Damn.

He spins around, grabbing Mac and Becky by their arms, dragging them off the ramp with him just before electrical sparks erupt from the Gate in every direction.

The event horizon disappears.

"Oh, no..." Becky whispers.

The ground rocks. Cracks widen in the high concrete walls.

This is it. They're out of options.

Jack's never been afraid of death. Even so he finds it reassuring to face the end with family instead of being alone.  

At least everyone else has a chance at a fresh start on New Earth. Gotta count for something, right?

Becky coughs, takes a deep breath. Rises to her feet, wiping the blood off her face before turning to face them. "I'm glad we're together, at the end. I love you guys."

Mac swallows, fighting back tears as he pulls her close against him. Protecting her as always, to his very last breath if necessary. "Same here, princess. Love you too."

Jack wants to do the same, hold his family tight as the mountain comes crashing down on top of them. But he can't even muster one last quip.

He settles for shoving his hands in his pockets, his right hand closing around something hard and roughly oval-shaped. Pulling out a milky-white stone with Norse runes carved in copper along the rim.

Of course. Gift from a certain little gray buddy of his, who surely owes him several favors by now. Time to collect.

The massive concrete walls begin to buckle. A groaning, creaking sound from high above, the ceiling giving way as if in slow motion.

This had better work. "Close your eyes and hold on," he says, wrapping one arm around Mac and Becky while raising the communication stone above his head with the other, activating it with a single hard press.

A familiar flash of white light behind closed eyelids, just in time before everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

Becky opens her eyes, blinking away the dancing spots. Blinks again at the change of scenery.

Smooth, sleek, curvilinear. Arches everywhere- around doorways, interspersed along walls, containing panels of white lights. Circular viewport behind them displaying a starfield.

Stars. They're in a starship. They're in space. Definitely not the military-drab concrete of the SGC.

Mac releases her and staggers back, eyes wide as he takes everything in. "Whoa," he says reverently.

"You said it," she agrees, likewise stunned.

Jack sighs in relief, wiping his brow. "Whew. Talk about your close shaves, huh?"

Movement in front of them catches her eye and she swallows. "Uh, guys? We're not alone."

Beings more than a foot shorter than her regard them curiously. Exceedingly lean bodies and long arms. Skin tones in various shades of gray. Large craniums, slits for nostrils, tiny ears, small mouths parted. Slanted black eyes without pupils. No visible indication of gender.

They're on an alien starship in outer space. Okay.

Mac raises his hands, palms out. "Um, hi. Take us to your leader?"

Jack- of all things- just chuckles. "Hey, there. How's tricks?"

"The male Tau'ri are identical!" one alien exclaims in wonder.

"Yet different at the same time," another observes, staring up at Mac. "The hair on this one is longer." He flushes under the scrutiny, automatically lifting one hand towards his shaggy locks.

"The female is shorter, with hair a different color," a third says, gesturing at her with a six-fingered hand. "And wears spectacles, like the Tau'ri Daniel Jackson."

"Enough. Leave our guests alone, all of you." The onlookers part to admit another of their number, nothing distinguishing him from the others yet possessing an air of command nonetheless. "Return to your duties." They scatter.

Jack beams. "Thor, my man! Thanks for the assist."

"I am glad to have provided you and your family with a timely escape, Colonel." The diminutive alien turns to her and Mac, regally inclines his head. "Greetings. I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Welcome aboard the Sleipnir."

"Not the one named after me, huh?" Jack looks a little crestfallen.

"Of course not. The O'Neill-class is needed in our fight against the Replicators. This ship is of the Beliskner-class."

Mac shoots his brother an incredulous look. "Wait a minute. A whole class of alien starships is named after you?"

"Yep. Pretty cool, huh?" Rather smug about it, too.

"The Colonel and his team have heroically provided assistance to my race on several occasions," the alien explains. "A fitting way to show our gratitude. You are MacGyver, are you not? And Dr. Rebecca Grahme," nodding to her. "A pleasure to meet you both."

"Um, likewise." The scrutiny from those opaque eyes makes her more than a little nervous.

Not like Norris, however. Different, more speculative than hostile. Unnerving all the same.

Thor turns to Jack. "O'Neill, you should know that the mountain holding your base collapsed completely not long after you were teleported. The Stargate is no longer accessible."

"Oh, no," Becky gasps. "Everyone on New Earth must think we're dead by now. How awful."

"Do not worry, Dr. Grahme. A message of reassurance will be sent before we leave the solar system. There are some duties to attend to first, but we will embark soon."

"How long will it take for us to get to New Earth?" Mac asks.

"About a day and a half, by hyperspace. Accommodations have been prepared for you."

"Any inflight entertainment?" Jack quips.

Mac sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "Sounds good. I could crash for a week."

"Perhaps it is time for all three of you to rest," Thor suggests. He nods to another Asgard standing nearby. "Show Colonel O'Neill and his family to their quarters."

"So the mighty gods of Norse mythology are really little gray men, huh?" Mac murmurs to Jack as they follow their alien guide from the bridge.

"Yep."

"Aw man, just when I think it can't get any more nuts."

Jack chortles quietly, patting his brother on the back. "Trust me, you ain't seen nothing yet."

****************

His arms enfold her, pulling her close to his body. She melts into his tender embrace, filling her senses with the warmth and softness of his bare skin, the desire reflected in his compelling blue eyes, the intoxicating smell wafting through the air- natural and musky, leather, books and ancient, sun-warmed stone. All of it uniquely, wonderfully him. "My raven."

"My hummingbird." He slowly caresses her body as if examining a precious artifact by touch alone, long fingers cupping her face as his mouth hungrily captures hers. She moans as he tastes her, with the same care and complete attention to detail he takes in discovering a new find.

Together they fall backwards onto the bed, hands and lips exploring freely. Seeking those places that send shivers through each other, stoking their shared passion to new heights. Exchanging words of love in every language they both know as their bodies move in harmony towards a shattering culmination...

Becky lunges upright with a start, chest heaving in an effort to slow her pounding heart, waves of longing making her shudder and gasp. She wraps her arms around her drawn-up legs, trying to make sense of the intense feelings flowing through her.

None of her previous boyfriends have ever inspired a dream quite so arousing before, as if Daniel was right there with her. Why she's having one like that now she has absolutely no idea. She's with her uncles on an alien starship after being beamed aboard from a collapsing mountain, for crying out loud.

In psychologist mode her mom might've considered it an unconscious response to facing certain death. Reaffirming an act of life, even if only in her imagination.

Either way what's happening to her is most definitely out of the ordinary. Which could be the understatement of the century considering her current location.

The sensations finally ebb and she feels like herself again. She takes a deep breath, letting her eyes adjust to the darkened room.

A viewport to her left shows an endless field of stars. To her right her uncles sprawl on ersatz beds (sleeping platforms, really), their soft snores adding the only note of familiarity to this whole bizarre situation.

Their temporary quarters are otherwise silent. No beeps, clicks, hum of machinery or the other sound effects associated with space travel in movies or TV shows. Asgard technology appears to be quiet, clean, efficient.

Not quite what any of them expected in the way of amenities, either. Sanitary facilities a trifle small for human frames, machines that clean their bodies using sonic waves. MREs or their equivalent and bottles of water from a matter converter upon request, similar to Star Trek.

It's like the Big Quake knocked her and Mac out of the ordinary world and into one straight out of science fiction. Amazing and terrifying in turns.

Sure beats the alternative, though.

By all rights Becky should be going back to sleep but she can't. She's used to insomnia, being a night-owl from way back.

Besides, the idea of watching over her uncles pleases her. She revels in the quiet, finding reassurance in their presence and the simple miracle of being alive.

Though if people had told her even five months ago she'd be in an honest-to-god alien spaceship (rescued, not abducted), on her way to live out the rest of her life on another planet--

She'd have thought them absolutely wacko. No doubt about it.

A soft, almost subliminal chime. The guys shift and grumble but remain unconscious.

Another chime. She makes her way to a panel on the other side of the room, touches it. The door slides open.

An Asgard with a light-blue tone to his gray skin regards her with curiosity. "Greetings. My name is Baldur."

"I'm Becky. Nice to meet you." Automatically she offers her hand.

He takes it, six fingers briefly touching five. Gives a sort-of smile. "Nice to meet you as well. The Supreme Commander wishes to see you on the bridge."

She glances back into the room. "Um, should I wake my uncles for this?"

"No. He has requested only your presence. Please come with me."

They walk side by side through the corridors. She can't help gaping at her surroundings a bit.

"You have never been on one of our ships before?" Baldur inquires politely.

"No, I haven't. This is amazing." A thousand questions swirl in her mind but somehow none of them seem like appropriate topics of conversation. Finally she ventures, "May I ask what you do?"

"I am a scientist. My specialty is a little obscure, but interesting work nonetheless."

"What is it?"

"I study the languages of other races, Tau'ri among others."

"Oh, really? I'm a linguist too."

"Yes, the Commander told me. He thought we might have something in common. I am sorry for the loss of your homeworld. Such a diverse planet, many different ways to communicate."

"Thank you." They walk in silence for a while. "You have an interesting name. It reminds me of a story I once heard."

He cocks his head. "I like stories. Please tell me."

"There once was a Norse god named Baldur. He was generous, joyful, and courageous. Everyone adored him. Then one day he began to have ominous dreams about his death. His father Odin found out it was a true prophecy from a seeress but his mother Frigga tried to prevent it anyway, by seeking out everything in existence and making them promise never to harm her beloved son.

"Once the oaths were secured, the other gods decided to put it to the test. They threw all kinds of things at Baldur- sticks, stones, weapons of all kinds. And true enough everything bounced off and left him completely unharmed.

"Loki the trickster god sensed an opportunity for malicious mischief. In disguise, he went to Frigga and asked her if she really made everything promise to spare Baldur from harm. Everything, she confirmed, save for the mistletoe plant. It looked so small and innocent, she thought it couldn't do any harm.

"This was too good a coincidence for Loki to pass up. He located the mistletoe, bound it into an arrow, and brought it to where the gods were still having their fun. He convinced another god to throw the arrow at Baldur, who died right on the spot.

"After his funeral Hermiod- one of his brothers- volunteered to ransom him from the queen of the dead. He pleaded with her to release Baldur, telling her of the great sorrow that all living things felt in his absence. She agreed, with one condition: If all truly wept for Baldur, she would send him back. But if there was even one refusal, he would remain by her side forever.

"Upon hearing of this everything did weep- with the exception of the giantess Tokk, who was later found to be Loki in disguise. Because of the refusal, Baldur was condemned to remain forever in the land of the dead."

"What a strange story," the Asgard muses. "Odin was the founder of our race, though many millennia ago. I have never heard of Frigga but I know of Hermiod. Loki as well, though I cannot imagine any of my fellow scientists willingly doing harm to another being. I confess I do not understand."

She shrugs, belatedly realizing he might not understand the gesture anyway. "To be honest I don't either."

"Do you know other stories?"

"I do, and so does a friend of mine. I'm sure we'd be willing to share them should you ever visit New Earth."

"I would like to do that someday. Thank you for the story."

"You're welcome."

"May I consider you a friend? I enjoy your company."

She blinks in surprise. "Why, yes. I'd like that. Thank you, Baldur."

"You are welcome, Becky."

Another alien friend. How about that.

****************

Finally they reach the bridge, full of other Asgard who murmur among themselves at her presence.

"I was under the impression your ships only needed to be run by minimal crew," Becky says.

"Normally that is the case," Baldur explains, "but this is a special occasion. A planet dying is a rare opportunity for research. There is one final duty to perform, before we leave the solar system for good."

As they approach the command chair an Asgard with a more muddy complexion is saying to Thor in a pleading tone, "But they are genetically identical! Think of the advance this would make in our cloning research. If you would just give me permission to take samples now while they remain unconscious--"

Thor cuts him off with a curt gesture. "Out of the question, Loki. O'Neill is a valuable ally, and his family is under my protection. Do not speak of this again." He waves the scientist away.

Baldur turns to Loki inquisitively as he passes by. "Are you a trickster?"

Loki stares at him. "Am I what? You are a strange one sometimes, Baldur."

"Dr. Grahme," Thor greets her in a cordial tone. "What do you think of the Sleipnir?"

"It's beautiful. Unlike anything I've ever seen before. May I ask why you wanted to see just me and not my uncles?"

"Because you alone are best suited to undertake something for us."

"And what might that be?"

"When a planet of our allies is dying it is our solemn duty to take note, so its existence will never be forgotten. Will you bear Witness to the Earth's final moments with us? You have the right to decline, though you would be doing us a great honor if you agreed."

"When?"

"Momentarily."

The thought makes Becky quake inside. The end of the Earth. Right here, right now.

And they want her to bear Witness. Her, of all people.

She's tempted at first to decline. But then reconsiders, thinking of her uncles.

She's never considered herself courageous, never really believed in herself. But her uncles always have, and still do. Among the stories and words of encouragement there's one phrase they've both given her over the years that hasn't failed her yet.

Be brave.

By all accounts the Asgard are an honorable race. They were under no obligation to protect Earth and the SGC during the last few months but they did anyway, out of a sense of duty to their allies.

It's only fair she returns the favor on behalf of the survivors, at the same time honoring everyone else who perished during and after the Big Quake. Time to step forward, watch the world end, and face the consequences whole. Her uncles would do no less.

"Alright, I'll bear Witness for you. What now?"

Thor gestures towards a forward viewer. "Merely open your mind to us, and watch."

****************

Once a blue orb full of swirling white clouds, continents picked out in shades of green and brown. Beautiful, hanging like a perfect and unique jewel against the black velvet backdrop of space.

Now Earth's barely recognizable.

Not like it was months ago, certainly. Or even earlier this morning when she was tucked in her sleeping bag, cozily sandwiched between her uncles.

What's happening is quick and devastating.

Out of all the geologists and planetologists on base, not one has yet figured out what caused the Earth to destabilize in the first place. And now they never will.

No traces of life remain on the surface. The world's been ravaged in so many ways since the Big Quake- earthquakes, tsunamis, horrendous storms, toxins and ash released into the atmosphere from the volcanoes. It's a miracle they managed to survive this long under the Mountain at all.

Ocean plates soften and melt, joining with the continental plates. Dark islands in glowing oceans of magma that soon dissolve like sugar cubes in water.

Earth's evolution winding back to the beginning, right before her eyes.

Even from this safe distance the scale is immense. At the Phoenix Foundation Dr. Williams once gave a fascinating lunch hour lecture on the Earth's structure. If, he explained, one tried to draw a scale model on paper using the floor of the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum as a surface with everything in proportion, the crust would still only show up as the thinnest of pencil lines.

The whole of human history, its drama and passion and bustle, occurring on a layer of dirt and rock no thicker than an eggshell. Which is being obliterated even as she watches.

A giant magma plume from the mantle- one of many- blasts out a chunk of rock the size of a small moon, with incredible force. Unable to achieve sufficient orbital velocity it soon falls back down into the primordial material.

Without thinking Becky takes a step back, shuddering. Small alien bodies crowd around her, offer wordless support.

She's read lots of science fiction over the years, even about the end of the world. Absorbed enough concepts to follow Sam's explanations most of the time.

A big difference, though, between visualizing an author's words for entertainment and seeing it happen for real. Almost too much to accept, for all her open-mindedness and imagination.

What she's Witnessing will surely be engraved forever in her mind and soul. She's tempted to turn and run.

But instead she remains in front of the viewer out of a stubborn sense of obligation. Seeing it through to the bitter end, so the survivors on New Earth will understand once and for all there's no going back.

This is what being brave truly means, she thinks.

Again the Earth has the appearance of a jewel. This time a fire opal- orange, brown and deep ruby red, shot through with streaks of white, yellow and green. Beautiful in its own alarming way.

Barely four months since the Big Quake and the planet is reduced to this.

Cracks widen in the magma, filling up with more incandescent plasma bleeding outwards from the core. Giant chunks of rock burst out of the churning surface with sufficient force to achieve orbit, tracing long, glowing curves in their wake.

At length the last fragile remnants of mantle break apart, revealing the plasma ball surrounding the planet's inner core. Spinning at a fantastic rate as it expands, spitting out fragments of molten rock and iron.

After reaching a limit it contracts, briefly.

Then explodes outward, in a final burst of heat and light.

She staggers as the ship wobbles a bit. "Whoa..."

"A slight gravitational wave," one of the Asgard assures her, a supportive hand on her arm. "Do not fear. The Sleipnir is already compensating."

Abruptly orphaned the Moon shudders then continues its solitary orbit, this time around a cloud of dust and volatiles that- when magnified considerably by the viewer- reveal tiny black holes and exotic particles at its center. The last remains of the late great Planet Earth, the thriving diversity and complexity of life that surely made it one of the most remarkable planets in the galaxy, if only to those who lived there.

Everything else is gone. Just like that.

"Enough," Thor says.

The viewer becomes opaque. The final image burning into her retinas, possibly every neuron and synapse of her brain forever.

Becky wants to run, cry, faint. Scream to the uncaring universe at the injustice of it all. But she can only stand there, stunned.

A gentle touch on her arm startles her. "Dr. Grahme, close your eyes and remember," Thor says softly. "Please, let us see your world as you do."

Awareness fades as memories and images flicker unbidden through her mind's eye:

Angkor Wat, Machu Picchu, Chichen Itza. The Taj Mahal, Eiffel Tower, Great Wall of China, Pyramids of Egypt, the Parthenon. The Ganges, the Rhine, the Amazon, the Nile, the Mississippi. Olduvai Gorge, where the second evolution of humanity took hold after the Ancients disappeared.

People of every shape, size and skin tone, living their lives unaware of the larger universe. The beauty and mystery of nature and its myriad creatures. All the varied climates, from the tallest mountains to the deepest ocean trenches, the coldest polar regions to the hottest deserts. And everything in between.

Sparkle of sunlight on the blue Pacific, the smell of salt spray and the endless roar of the surf. Sand shifting under her feet, Mac's warm hand holding hers as they stroll along the beach.

The warm touch of the sun in summer. Leaves turning colors in the fall, golden and crimson and burnt orange. The chill, stark perfection of winter. The first flowers of spring promising renewal and rebirth.

Smell of fir trees and woodsmoke, the flicker of a campfire. The hoot of owls and rustle of nocturnal activity outside the tent.

The comfortable Craftsman home where she grew up. Sound of rain hitting her bedroom window, late nights spent reading with only the moon for company. Summer stargazing nights in the backyard, the family all together, Mac and Jack spinning fabulous yarns about the constellations.

Her mother's wry smiles and warm hugs. Her father's laughter, the smell of his cooking. Her brother teasing gently, ruffling her hair.

Three coffins, a gravestone carved with three names. Her uncles to either side, strong and loving support in reserve.

Lying on her bed in Los Angeles, staring at clouds passing by through the skylight. Singing with friends in high school choir. The way learning a language sparks new connections in her mind.

Heating dinner for Mac when he comes home after a tough assignment. Laughing at Jack's attempts to juggle salad makings when he visits on leave.

The L.A. Basin sinking before her eyes, a massive tsunami as the Pacific Ocean roars in to fill the gap.

Making new friends, and unexpectedly finding love with an old one. The promise of adventure through a shimmering event horizon.

The world crashing down upon her once again. Darkness, cold and pain. Then two strong hands clasp hers, pull her into the light. Her beloved hero uncles, saving her as always when she needs it most.

Flash of white light. Her beautiful, precious homeworld, gone forever.

Moisture gathers in Becky's eyes, trickling down her face. A six-fingered hand brushes a drop off her cheek with infinite tenderness.

"Tears," Baldur says, a note of wonder in his voice.

"Yes," Thor says with satisfaction. "Dr. Grahme, you have done us a great honor, offering tears when we cannot and granting access to your memories of a lost world. You have the gratitude of both myself and my race. With our duty done, we can now leave this solar system."

She can only nod, standing there quietly with head bowed and shoulders slumped. Too weary in both mind and body to do anything else.

"What are your intentions towards her?" Baldur asks. "We cannot send her back to her uncles like this. They will be angry she did the Witnessing without their knowledge or approval."

"Which is why her memory will be suppressed until the time is right, when she can speak of what she has seen to an appropriate audience."

"She has risked her sanity for us. You know how most Witnesses go insane after we release them. There must be something else we can offer her in compensation."

"I have been considering that, Baldur. It is in our best interest to make the new Tau'ri settlement as strong and thriving as possible. The High Council believes Dr. Grahme could be instrumental in that goal, with some subtle encouragement from us."

"Surely not an implant! It would go against the treaty--"

Thor waves away his objections. "Merely subliminal suggestions while she is unconscious. It will do her no harm."

Baldur frowns in thought. "She has a sufficient expression of the Ancient gene to control their technology, as do as her uncles. One of their cities is on New Earth, and so is the Star in the Eye."

"Precisely. She will be needed." He holds up a glowing device in the palm of his hand. "You have our thanks, Dr. Grahme. Sleep now."

A flash of purple light sends her into darkness.

****************

A gentle hand on her shoulder, nudging her awake. "Becky? Time to wake up."

She yawns. "Aw c'mon, Unc. Five more minutes, okay? Not even light outside yet."

Her uncles chuckle as she sits up, taking in her surroundings, the room now lit by soft indirect lighting. Outside the viewport long streaks of blue come and go, so they must be in hyperspace.

It might be any time of the day or night. Or none at all, considering.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." Jack smirks at her, lacing his boots. "Must've been pretty tired, huh?"

"I guess. Was I out a long time?"

Mac looks up from inspecting his trusty leather jacket, smiles. "You slept until you were done sleeping. Harry used to say that's often the right amount."

"Not that there's much else for us to do, anyway," Jack adds. "Thor says we've still got some downtime before reaching New Earth. Got any ideas for entertainment?"

She grins. "Might have one. Still got that deck of cards tucked in one of your pockets? I'm up for some gin rummy if you guys are."

"Sounds good. Be prepared to lose a lot, though. My nickname at the Academy was 'Blackjack O'Neill' after all. Which was where my callsign came from, now I think about it. You up for a hand or several, Mac?"

He sets the jacket aside, rolling up his sleeves as he joins them on her sleeping platform. "Why not? I'll deal first."

As Mac shuffles the deck Becky rubs the back of her neck and sighs. She's got this awful nagging headache now, no idea where it came from. Not to mention the feeling she's forgetting something really important.

Oh, well. Doesn't matter anyway.

Time to have some fun.

****************

"Gin."

Jack groans. "For crying out loud. Again? How many games have you been winning, anyway? I've lost count."

Becky laughs, tallying up the bottle caps collected at her end. "Well, at the current exchange rate you guys owe me at least ten favors each of whatever I need doing when we get to New Earth." Ramirez had the right idea, it makes for better currency.

"You gotta be cheating or something, right? Why didn't you warn me, Mac?"

"Don't look at me, Jack. If I told ya before we started how good a player she is, you would've said I was nuts. Better to let you find out for yourself." He grins and winks at Becky, who snickers.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha," Jack concedes, ruefully shaking his head. "Shoulda played chess instead. But really Beck, how did that happen? When you were a kid you were terrible at cards."

"Blossoming skill and talent, I guess. Plus I've had plenty of opportunities for practice over the years."

"And just when, exactly, did you have the time among your studies?" he asks archly.

"Mostly playing against Pete and Jack Dalton while waiting for Unc to get out of the emergency room after getting injured on assignment. Happened often enough for the pretty nurses to start greeting him by name, let me tell you." She winks at Mac, who ducks his head and flushes slightly.

Jack's brow furrows. "Dalton? You mean that wacko foster kid from next door in Mission City who wanted to be a pilot when he grew up? Always wondered what happened to that guy."

"Usually spent a lot of time tricking me into helping him with one crazy get-rich-quick scheme after another," Mac says with a rueful chuckle.

"And succeeding, too," Becky chimes in. "Though he did an okay job looking after me the other times you were away. Another round, guys?"

"Sure, but I still think you've got somethin' up your sleeve--" The door chimes, and Jack gets up off the bed to answer. "Saved by the bell. Hey, there," as Baldur enters. "You're just in time to watch our card-shark niece here beat the pants off us at gin rummy for the umpteenth time in a row."

"Thank you. I trust all is satisfactory? You are doing well?" Becky has the oddest impression he's aiming that last question directly at her, and that he has a different reason for asking other than simple courtesy. She has no idea why.

"Just peachy, thanks," Jack replies. "Any idea how much longer 'til we get to New Earth?"

"We are about to enter high orbit around the planet. The Supreme Commander requests your presence on the bridge."

"Terrific. Not that we don't appreciate the hospitality, but this reminds me a lot of being cooped up in quarantine on base. I've been itching to stretch my legs for hours." He scoops up his BDU jacket. "C'mon, guys. Let's get outta here."

****************

From orbit New Earth's pretty nice. Just as Dr. Giovanni advertised with oceans, two continents and several archipelagos, waiting to be explored and named. Different from Old Earth but close enough in the ways that matter.

And all theirs.

Shades of blue-green, burnt-orange and moss-green cover the landmasses. Water close to the usual blue, though with a slight violet tinge. Icecaps at the poles and swirling clouds sporting familiar shades of white and gray.

Two mountain ranges on the northern half of the western continent frame the settlement valley like a pair of parentheses, running north to south. To Becky it resembles an eye, only vertical instead of horizontal.

She frowns. The shape reminds her of something important, yet for the life of her she can't remember what.

Maybe it'll come to her later.

"There it is, kids," Jack says. "A change from than the greener planets I've visited, but plenty of trees nonetheless. Not bad."

Mac nods in agreement. "Beautiful in its own way. And a chance at a fresh start, for all of us. Hopefully we won't blow it this time."

Looking down at their new home Becky can't help but feel optimistic. "We'll do better by this one, Unc. I know we will. We're resourceful enough to give it the best start possible."

"Colonel O'Neill, MacGyver. Dr. Grahme." There's that scrutiny again in Thor's steady gaze, making her more than a bit uneasy. "All has been made ready for your departure. I have received instructions from the SGC to beam you down in the main compound of the base, instead of within any buildings."

"Much appreciated," Jack says with a nod. "As is your hospitality. Don't forget to stop and say hi, next time you're in the neighborhood."

"We will, be sure of it. Please tell General-Governor Hammond the Protected Planets Treaty is still in effect, along with our alliance. And that we will be arriving at your Alpha Base soon to help build your fighters and ships."

"Will do. And hey, if you guys ever need a hand with the Replicators or whatever, give us a call. We owe you big for this."

"We were merely doing our duty to you as allies, O'Neill. But not burdensome, I assure you. I wish you and your race the best of luck on your new home."

"Farewell, Becky," Baldur says. "I am glad to have met you. I look forward to hearing more stories in the future."

"I'm glad to have met you, too," she assures him. "Daniel and I have plenty to share, and you're welcome to visit anytime."

"I shall."

She turns to their host. Manners are important, after all. "Thank you for everything. Safe travels and the best of luck to you and your people as well."

A pleased nod from Thor. "You are most welcome. Until we meet again, O'Neill, MacGyver, Dr. Grahme. Farewell."

A flash of white light and they find themselves in the middle of a compound, rudimentary buildings and a giant hangar to their backs. The SGC flag on a tall pole waves proudly in the blue-violet sky.

Mac looks up, shaking his head. "Never gonna get used to that."

Personnel gather around, gaping and murmuring. Jack opens his arms wide and grins.

"Hey, folks. Anyone miss us?"

Chapter Text

Midsummer on New Earth, the sun bright in a clear blue-violet sky.

Daniel's nose twitches at the scent of unknown flowers, the tickle of alien pollen on the wind. Hopefully his allergies won't be so bad here, god only knows how he'll cope when they run out of antihistamines.

Alvarez and his team wasted no time in setting up the base since their last visit. For now only a collection of rudimentary buildings and the hangar containing the all-important Gate but further refinements are sure to come. Already the SGC's flag snaps in the breeze high above their heads, the secret out in the open at last.

A triage station's been set up in the main compound, where he and Teal'c are assisting Janet with treating the bumps, bruises and other minor injuries acquired during the mass exodus. No deaths, thank goodness.

Hammond's ordered a headcount but nobody Daniel's spoken to has apparently seen either Jack, Mac or Becky anywhere. It's worrisome.

Presently Walter emerges from the hangar, trotting over to Hammond and Sam. Their conversation's loud enough to be overheard. "General, there's a problem. We've lost contact with the base on Old Earth."

"What do you mean, Sergeant?" Hammond demands.

"Sir, the Gate shut itself off. The wormhole simply refuses to re-engage. I've tried several times already."

"Major Carter, should you be running a diagnostic? Is it some sort of technical problem?"

"That's a possibility, sir," she agrees. "But the most likely explanation is that the mountain has collapsed. A connection cannot be established if the DHD detects that the destination's become blocked so completely there's no space for the wormhole to form."

"You mean the Gate's already buried?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

Daniel frowns. Janet not-too-subtly pokes him, getting his attention back to the task at hand. "Sorry," he mutters.

"It's okay. I'm just as worried as you are, but we need to focus on the here and now. Give me a bandage for Sergeant White's sprained foot, please." Slightly abashed he provides a length of sterile fabric from the tray.

Airman O'Reilly, red-haired and freckled, approaches Hammond with trepidation. "Sir? The headcount of all personnel evacuated through the Gate is finished."

"Everyone present and accounted for?"

"Um no, sir. Not exactly. The count's off by three." O'Reilly swallows nervously, pale complexion becoming even more pale under the General's scrutiny.

Hammond frowns. "So who's not here? Spit it out, son. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He consults a clipboard. "The three missing are Colonel O'Neill, Mr. MacGyver and Dr. Grahme."

A muffled gasp from Sam, her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide. Janet stumbles briefly against the edge of a nearby treatment cot before regaining her composure. Teal'c remains silent but deep furrows form under his gold tattoo.

The tray almost falls from Daniel's hands. A sickening sensation forms in the pit of his stomach, one he's all too familiar with.

The bottom's just dropped out of his world, for perhaps the third time in his life.

****************

He draws her close, reveling in the feel of her exquisite body against his, the love and desire shining in her guileless eyes. A scent drifts in the air- books and chocolate, sea spray, lavender and jasmine. Unambiguously, delightfully her. "My raven," she sighs.

"My hummingbird." He leisurely runs long fingers along her soft bare skin, exploring every nuance, every facet. Gently cups her face, his tongue parting her lips to linger inside. Savoring her so slowly, so sweetly. She moans into his mouth, a thrill shooting through his body at the sound.

The softness of the bed stops their fall, but he's too busy learning a new language by touch and taste alone to notice. One he's eager to teach her in return, stoking their mutual desire.

A language of love.

Every movement of their bodies, every endearment shared brings them closer and closer to that perfect pinnacle, a union of minds, bodies and souls unlike any other...

Daniel wakes with a start, breathing ragged and painful. Whole body aching with need, filled with an almost painful longing to hold Becky in his arms, kiss her, touch her, taste her. And more.

It's been a long while since he dreamed anything that intense, as if she were right there with him.

But she's not, and all he can do is sit in the darkness and wait until the sensations ebb and he feels more like himself again.

He feels a bit sticky as well. Lifting the sheet he regards his lap with a wry smile. Been a while since that happened, too.

A knock on the door startles him. He checks the clock, frowning at the early hour.

With a sigh he collects his glasses, heads for the bathroom to tidy up and pull on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants before answering.

Nighttime hangs outside the windows, twin moons lending a faint lavender glow to the interior of the Quonset hut he's been assigned. Takes some getting used to but it's as big as his apartment back on Old Earth, partitioned by walls and doors into separate areas- bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room- with an extra space he can use as a study or library if he wants.

He's never had a real, permanent home before. Not really.

Daniel barely remembers the Manhattan townhouse he spent his early childhood in. But he does recall the local nannies who looked after him at various dig sites around the world, teaching him their languages while his parents were working. After they died came a succession of foster homes, until he won emancipation and could access his family's money. Then student dorms and rented apartments wherever his academic career took him. When he returned from Abdyos the SGC provided off-base housing, as he had no spare time away from missions and research to go looking for real estate on his own.

He picks his way around stacks of boxes, full of everything he'd managed to pack from his apartment before the quakes started in earnest. Jack once quipped he had a whole museum's worth of stuff crammed into less than a thousand square feet, though his modest collection hardly fits the definition.

Regardless, it'll take a while before things are arranged to his satisfaction again. Maybe even longer with no assistant anymore to lend a hand. Stopping to leaf through every book she finds, stretching the task out by hours just as Jack warned. Not that he really minded Becky's curiosity; sometimes she seemed the only one on base who shared his appreciation for the beauty of the written word.

Though they only spent a few months working together he's grateful they had the chance to rekindle their friendship. At times he even caught himself imagining her curled up against his chest in bed, each reading their own book but occasionally sharing a sweet kiss or two...

A tear trickles down his cheek. He wipes it away with the back of his hand before opening the door.

Sam gives a wan smile, trying hard to maintain her usual upbeat demeanor despite dark circles under eyes hinting at a rough night. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

She blinks, taking in his faded t-shirt and sweatpants. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"It's okay. Can't sleep, huh?"

A halfhearted shrug. "Not really. Mind if I come in?"

He waves her inside. "Sorry for the mess. A lot of unpacking left to do."

"No problem. You should see my new place. Guess the marines responsible for moving my stuff decided my projects ought to be located there instead of the lab. It'll take a while to get everything sorted properly again." She collapses on the couch with a faint groan. "God, what a day. Feel lousy about ten different ways."

He sits next to her and leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "Know what you mean." He yawns, rubbing his head. "You want coffee or something?"

"Nah. Just need some company. That okay with you?"

"Sure." Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. She's trying real hard not to cry, he can tell.

He swallows, feeling much the same.

She leans against him and he puts his arm around her. "I miss them, Daniel," she says softly, between sniffles. "A lot."

"Me too, Sam." He kisses the top of her head, moisture gathering in his own eyes. "Me, too."

Nothing more needs to be said.

****************

The mess- which reminds Daniel more of a refectory from his graduate seminar days- is still in the process of being organized but a decent breakfast is being served, complete with freshly-baked bread. Frozen bacon and powdered scrambled eggs but rumor has it Zoology's already got a lead on a porcine-like creature and a flightless egg-laying bird, both of which could be domesticated enough to provide the real things in the near future.

Or as close as they can get, these days.

At least there's still real coffee, though no doubt that will have to be rationed soon. He's not looking forward to suffering caffeine withdrawal by any means. Unless Botany finds a substitute in the near future a scientists' revolt is a distinct possibility. With him leading the charge, as Jack might've added.

Sam and Janet sit next to him, rather subdued. Each silently mourning in her own way.

"Good morning, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter, Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c joins them, tray loaded with food, the Jaffa's usually impassive features wearing a rare smile. 

Sam offers a weak wave. "Hi, Teal'c. You seem awfully chipper this morning, considering the sad news yesterday about the Colonel and his family."

"There is nothing to feel sorrow about, Major Carter. I have splendid news to report. General Hammond has received a message from the Asgard. Supreme Commander Thor beamed O'Neill, MacGyver and Becky Grahme safely onto his ship before Cheyenne Mountain collapsed."

Her eyes open wide. "Of course! The Colonel must've held onto one of their communication stones."

Daniel blinks, momentarily unable to process the words. "So they're alive?"

Teal'c nods, his smile even bigger. "Indeed they are, Daniel Jackson. Alive and unharmed. They are in hyperspace now, the Sleipnir arriving in orbit tomorrow morning."

"That's great news, Teal'c. Thanks." The sparkle's back in Sam's eyes, her bright grin echoing Janet's own.

He nods in return, very pleased with himself. "You are most welcome."

Daniel smiles down into his coffee, feeling better.

Things are definitely looking up.

****************

That night Sam shows up at Daniel's doorstep again. This time with Janet in tow, who holds up a bottle of whiskey and three glasses.

"Sipping medicine," she quips with a wry smile. "Good for what ails us."

"And what's that?"

"A bad case of romantic feelings."

He frowns. "Do we really have to be talking about this now?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Would you rather chat with Mackenzie? Or Heightmeyer at the Alpha Base?"

The thought of talking to either therapist about his personal life makes him shudder. "God, no."

"Thought so."

Sam sits on the couch while Janet claims the other armchair, pours a generous measure into each glass. "Drink it all down, you two. Doctor's orders."

Sam accepts a glass, holds it up. "To the Colonel, and his family."

Daniel echoes the toast along with Janet. The whiskey burns a trail of fire down his throat, making him cough.

Sam knocks back her own drink, grimaces. "Reminds me of the bottle Dad used to keep in his desk drawer at home. Mark talked me into picking the lock one day so we could try it."

"What happened?"

"Mom caught us in the act, told Dad when he got back. Both of us grounded for a month, along with a stern lecture on the dangers of underage drinking." A rueful smile. "Which didn't exactly take on my part. Tommy Henderson from next door smuggled over his dad's bottle and we finished it off in my room. Had an awful hangover the next day. Thought I was gonna die."

Janet chuckles. "Ooh Sam, what a rebel you were!"

"Yeah. Though it was nothing compared to the time my then-best friend Jeanette talked me into lying to them about studying at the library one Saturday, when secretly we went to the movies with a couple boys from school--"

Daniel can't help but chuckle himself as she spins her tale. He always enjoys hearing about Sam's childhood antics with her family, since he barely had one of his own.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever will.

"So as I said earlier," Janet says in a mock-solemn tone, "we are gathered here to diagnose and find a cure for the chronic case of romantic feelings each of us have apparently developed over the past few months. Or years, in Sam's case," giving her a knowing look.

Who gapes at her. "Oh, come on! How can you think I have romantic feelings for the Colonel? Granted, we've both been through a lot over the past few years, same as Daniel and Teal'c. Saved each other's lives multiple times. But feeling close to one another is a normal reaction after life-or-death situations."

"You're rationalizing," Janet warns.

"I'm not. It's just--" She flushes, looking down into her drink. "I...I really enjoy his company, that's all."

"Sure it is. Nothing about how your heartbeat picks up every time he walks into the room, the way you two share those long, lingering looks. The gleam in your eyes when you're clearly fantasizing about him--"

She nearly spits out her drink, eyes wide. "Janet!"

Another eloquently raised eyebrow. Daring her to deny everything.

Sam sighs. "Okay, okay. Enough already. You win. I'm in love with Jack O'Neill, and I think the feeling's mutual. Satisfied?"

A smug grin. "Much."

The admission doesn't surprise Daniel. He's known they've been attracted to each other for a while now, starting from that first briefing together. Ferretti once told him she'd even challenged him point-blank to arm wrestle, just to prove her worthiness to be on the team.

He chuckles to himself at the thought. Good thing Jack didn't take her up on it, she probably would've beaten him. And wouldn't that have been a blow to his ego right at the start!

Ever since that first mission they've been subtly flirting with each other. He always notices the heightened sexual tension and so does Teal'c. He wonders if the literal end of the world will be enough motivation for them to finally act on their mutual attraction, no matter if it has to be kept a secret from everyone else.

Which is completely unfair in Daniel's opinion. They've each worked hard to get where they are and he wants his friends to be happy without living in fear of losing everything.

Sam holds out her glass for more liquid courage and takes a long reflective sip before speaking. "I know we've been skirting around the issue for a while now, to the point where it's almost jeopardized our professional relationship. I'm not happy about it and neither is he. We don't dare discuss it though, even in private."

"But you still want to love him, don't you?" Janet presses.

"I do," she confesses. "Openly. I think he feels the same. But we can't. The regulations--"

"What regulations?"

Sam throws her a glare. "Oh, come on. You know what I mean. No fraternizing allowed in a direct chain of command. We're officers in the United States Air Force for god's sake--"

"Not any more."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's right, Sam," Daniel says with a sudden flash of insight. "Old Earth is gone, for all intents and purposes. No more United States. No more Air Force, even, when you think about it."

Janet nods, head flopping slightly. "Exactly. And therefore no more regulations against fraternization. Until things get reorganized you're free to go up to that tall, handsome hunk of a Colonel and snog his brains out whenever you like."

Sam's eyes bulge then she falls back against the couch, giggling. "Snog?"

"British slang. Means to kiss." He's feeling remarkably lucid for being drunk.

"I've heard the word before, Daniel. I just--" She breaks into more helpless giggles. "Snog his brains out. I love it."

Janet lazily waves her hand. "Eh. You know what I mean. I'm gonna snog Mac myself when he gets here, and more besides. He's gorgeous, isn't he? And really good with his hands. Ooh, what those long, clever fingers can do to my body..." her voice trails off, dreamily.

Daniel can't help but smirk a bit. She can get pretty lascivious when drunk. "Sounds like you've also got a chronic case of romantic feelings yourself, doctor. Is snogging the cure, then?"

She shrugs. "Sure. Why not? I like Mac. A lot. He's smart, funny, caring and compassionate. Like Jack in many ways but different."

"A better listener, for one," Sam adds with her own smirk. "His eyes don't glaze over when I'm explaining things."

"And Cassie's crazy about him. He'll make a great surrogate dad for her, like he did with Becky."

Daniel nods in agreement. He likes Mac himself, for much the same reasons. Wouldn't be a bad thing if he and Janet got together, not at all. And if he's already got Cassie's approval then so much the better.

"How about you, Daniel?" Janet's smirking at him now.

He blinks in confusion. "Hmm?"

"You gonna snog Becky when she gets here? I saw you two arrive hand in hand when we gathered for the General's toast on New Year's. You kissed her, didn't you?"

He feels a flush warming his cheeks. "Well, yeah..."

She flashes a triumphant grin. "Thought so. Pretty obvious you two have become thick as thieves over the past few months. And there's a gleam in your eyes whenever you talk about her."

"Yeah, Danny. Fess up," Sam chimes in, eyes dancing with mischief. "You already got a thing for Becky, don't you?"

"Do I really have to answer?" He squirms in his seat. He's never liked interrogations, particularly involving his personal life. Not even among close friends.

"Yes," Janet says firmly. "Do you love her, or what?"

"Yeah. I...I guess I do. Never found anyone as compatible before, not even--" He swallows the lump forming in his throat. "Not even Sha're. Feels like I'm disrespecting her memory by saying it out loud, though. Does that make me awful or what?"

Sam leans forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I don't think so, Daniel." Her voice is soft. "I know how much you loved her. It's not your fault the way things went down. Not at all. You did everything you could to save her. But you shouldn't be brooding alone the rest of your life, either. It's time to move on."

He shrugs. "I know. But I can't help thinking what might happen if I open myself to Becky, only to lose her as well. Maybe I'm better off on my own."

"You can't possibly mean that," Janet insists. "Sha're would want you to be happy, not living alone out of fear for an uncertain future. After my divorce I felt the same for a long time until I finally got my head straight. Take it from your doctor, it's not healthy to live stuck in the past like a fossil."

Sam nods her agreement. "Exactly. Everyone needs someone to love, and be loved by in return. I think you found that with Becky. You're so good for each other."

Daniel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. They're right, of course. Though it's not like he's had the greatest track record with relationships before now.

Nevertheless, is he destined to be solitary for the rest of his life? Does he even want to be, anymore?

He used to think so, especially right after the breakup with Sarah.

Of course, that was before he met Sha're. And before Becky came back into his life as well.

"Okay," he finally says. "I see your point. Mind if I make a suggestion of my own, though? Follow your own advice and go for it. You too, Sam. Forget the fraternization regulations. Life is too short and uncertain for any of us, especially these days. If I'm taking a chance then so can you."

Janet grins, raising her glass in a toast. "Daniel, you're absolutely right. Why the hell not?"

"That's the spirit. Sam?"

She cocks her head, considering. "You know something? I might just do that. The end of the world has already happened and we're still alive and kicking, after all."

"So it's decided. We ambush them first time we see 'em, and snog their brains out. Sounds like a plan to me." Janet peers over at the clock. "I'd better get going. Cassie's gonna be wondering where I am." She manages to stand up, but finds it impossible to remain on her feet. With a groan she collapses into her seat again. "Oof. Maybe I'll stay here for a while longer. At least until the room stops spinning."

Sam doesn't even bother trying. She slouches on the couch, eyes closing. "Ditto."

Daniel blinks at the two women sprawled in what passes for his living room, already fast asleep. Wonders if he can get to his bed without stumbling.

He rises from the armchair on unsteady legs, wavering a bit. Drops right back down onto the cushions.

On second thought, he's better off where he is too.

****************

Sand, sand and more sand, as far as the eye can see. A dim haze in the air, the sounds of nocturnal desert life just waking, the beasts of burden clamoring for water down at the oasis.

It's Daniel's favorite part of the day, when he and Sha're take a stroll in the gathering dusk, the magic hour between the sun setting in the west and the three moons rising in the east. Surveying their own little world, planning for a future together. 

Time has passed and so far he still doesn't know much more about the planet than when he first got here with Jack. All the Abdyonians had ever known during their generations of slavery to Ra was the settlement, the naquadah mine and stone quarries, the temple and the endless rolling sand dunes in between.

Sha're has always patiently answered other questions about his adopted home. Even volunteering the occasional perceptive comment or observation on her own, whenever she felt he needed educating.

"Sometimes at the mine my people find strange creatures embedded in the rock, bones and teeth and claws that grasp, or with long tails," she comments out of the blue during one evening stroll. "Skaara scared me with one when we were children. He laughed so hard when I ran crying to our mother."

He nods. "They're called fossils, I remember your father showing his collection to me last month. The remains of creatures living around here a very long time ago, probably well before Ra abducted your ancestors from Earth and left them here. This whole desert might've even been under water once."

"You really think so, Dan'yel?"

"It's possible. At least that was the case for many deserts back on Earth. They used to be oceans, millions of years ago."

"How strange, to think of so much open water," she muses. They pause, taking in the purple length of dusk, the cool air settling over the desert like a blanket. To the north the peak of Ra's temple is barely visible above the dunes. Three moons rise slowly in the east, one after another.

Thunder rolls in the south, a distant sandstorm. He's not worried. They have plenty of time to get under cover.

"I--I just want you to know I never stopped loving you," he blurts out. "All those years I spent searching with Jack and the others after Apophis took you."

"I know. Even when Amaunet had control of my body in my mind I always had faith we would find one other again."

"We did, but then I lost you for good." He swallows. "I...I tried so hard to save you, I swear I did. If I had to do it all over--"

She laughs, a soft tinkling sound reminiscent of Becky's. "Silly Dan'yel. Why worry about the past? We cannot change what was."

"I know that. It's just--"

A gentle finger on his lips. "Hush, now. Do not blame yourself for what could not help but be. I forgive you, my sweet, stumbling, always questioning Tau'ri."

He takes her hand, kisses it. "I'll never forget you, Sha're. I promise."

Her smile is fond, with a trace of sadness. "I know. But it is time for you to move on. Do not get stuck in the past, like the fossils. You have already found another to share your heart and soul, have you not?"

"...I have," he admits, reluctantly. "Becky's very special to me. But I'm afraid I'll disrespect your memory by loving her in your place."

She shakes her head, dark curls tumbling over her face. "That is not possible. I will always be a part of you, in here." She places a delicate hand over his heart. "Stop brooding over the past, and live only in the present. It is all we have. Keep your feet on the ground, yes?"

He can't help but chuckle. "Becky first gave me that advice, years ago. Before I met you."

"She is right. You deserve to be happy, not sad all the time. There should be no guilt in your heart, for loving her instead of me."

A sharp tingle of ozone in the air. The sandstorm must be approaching faster than he thought. Time to get under cover.

"Will you promise me something, Dan'yel?" she asks as the wind abruptly shifts and picks up.

"Anything."

"Think of me every now and then. And love her forever."

A wall of sand rears high above him after she disappears, the tidal wave of an ancient ocean--

Daniel wakes with a start, wincing in the morning sunlight pouring through the window. Rubbing at his temples in an attempt to ease the massive headache making its presence known.

God, he should know better by now than to drink whiskey so late at night. Damn Janet and her bottomless bottle. She and Sam are conspicuously absent, the scoundrels.

Oddly enough at the same time he feels better. Like he's been absolved, or something. All sins washed clean. The proverbial weight lifted off his shoulders.

He stands up, stretching the kinks out from sleeping in the chair. A cup of coffee, a couple aspirin and a hot shower are definitely called for before facing the day.

****************

As he finishes dressing his radio set chirps. "Hammond to Dr. Jackson. Come in please."

He retrieves his glasses before hitting the button on the receiver. "Jackson here. Something I can help you with, General?"

"Thought you'd like to know Colonel O'Neill and his family have arrived."

"Are they all right?"

"They're fine, Dr. Fraiser's checking them out in the infirmary. Please join us at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there soon." Daniel sets the radio down, heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

Becky's here. And alive. They all are.

He can't help a broad grin as he dashes out the door.

****************

"Nothing interesting to report, sir," Jack replies with a shrug to Hammond's query. "Thor's an okay host but the trip was long and boring. Felt like being in quarantine, to be honest. We slept a bit, talked some, played a lot of gin rummy."

"Which Jack mostly lost," Mac notes dryly with a wink in Becky's direction, who ducks her head and flushes. She's keeping oddly quiet during their examination, though from time to time rubs her forehead with a puzzled expression, as if trying to remember something just out of reach.

"Any bruises and cuts acquired before they were beamed up appear to be healing nicely, General," Janet finally reports, all brisk efficiency. "Otherwise they're fine, though I recommend a full 48 hours to acclimate first before returning to duty."

"Understood. Colonel, please report to me day after tomorrow at 0900 for orientation. Mr. MacGyver, Dr. Grahme, orientations in your respective departments will also take place then. I'm sure in the meantime Dr. Jackson, Major Carter and Teal'c will be more than happy to assist you in getting settled into your new quarters. And by the way--" A rare, warm smile. "It really is good to have all three of you here. Welcome home."

"Thank you, sir." Jack answers for them. "It's good to be home." Hammond nods and leaves.

Home. New Earth is home now, isn't it?

Janet half-turns to Daniel and winks. Oddly enough there's no one else in the room aside from the five of them, which she probably arranged herself.

A predatory gleam appears in her eyes as her gaze settles next upon her intended target, idly drumming long fingers against his thighs. "Oh Mac, could you and I have a private conversation?" The tip of her tongue peeks out and she licks her lips.

He stops fidgeting, eyes widening noticeably. "Um, now?"

"Uh-huh." She pulls the curtain around his bed.

Jack snickers.

Becky rolls her eyes, as does Daniel. "Jack..."

He merely smirks at them in reply. Some things haven't changed.

Sam stops in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the curtain surrounding Mac's bed and smiling faintly when Daniel nods confirmation. She winks at him before homing in on Jack. "Sir, you're here."

"Yep."

She takes a step forward. "Sir."

"Carter."

She pauses again, then shakes her head slightly. "What the hell," she mutters under her breath.

His eyebrows lift, head tilting up in inquiry. "Carter?"

Three strides and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. His eyes widen as their lips meet but within seconds he's returning the kiss with equal passion.

Before his arms close around her Jack glances at Daniel and Becky and smirks again before reaching out to pull the curtain around his own bed.

Becky blinks in surprise. "Wow, that was unexpected. I take it Sam and Janet came to some sort of decision while we were gone?"

Daniel beams down at her. So perceptive. They'll be really good together, he has no doubt. "They're not the only ones."

She turns to him, raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He closes the door before pulling the curtain around her bed. He leans in close, cradling her face in his hands. "I really am glad you're here."

"So am I." Beautiful blue eyes close in pleasure at his touch, soft full lips parting.

All his concerns about dishonoring Sha're's memory have vanished. She'd want him to be happy, not keeping himself apart forever out of fear.

Being with Becky feels...perfect. Like he's found the other half of his soul. With her by his side he's ready to start fresh with a new chapter in his life. The proverbial clean slate for all of them, actually.

But as much as he might be ready for anything more intimate he senses she isn't yet. No matter.

He can be patient. Better to wait until the time's right, their union will surely be all the sweeter.

He's looking forward to it.

"Welcome home, hummingbird," he whispers, before meeting her lips in a tender kiss.

Chapter Text

The planet's dying around her.

Rocks grind together as the ground under her feet trembles. Volcanoes spit lava into the sky and overflow, burying everything under grimy ash.

Thunder booms, lightning and rain descend in torrents from the heavens. Wind whips to hurricane speeds, a stomach-twisting turbulence.

The ocean rears, drowning the land in a tidal wave. The earth cracks open, white-hot magma seeping from the planet's core.

This is how the world ends. Savage, ruthless, destructive.

Inexorable and deadly.

No safety to be found anywhere, no hope of escape or rescue. Nowhere left to run.

Completely, utterly alone.

Becky gasps awake, eyes wide open in the dark, breath ragged and heart pounding. Bites her lower lip to keep from screaming.

Strands of hair cling to her forehead. She brushes them aside, grimacing at the dampness left by her own cold sweat.

Darkness hangs outside the window, the only sounds the chitter of alien insects and soft footfalls of the night watch patrolling for predators. Direwolves have been sighted near the settlement, intelligent and deadly, near the top of the local food chain according to Zoology.

She sighs and pulls the blankets up to her chin, curling herself sideways and tucking her feet closer in to her body. Closes her eyes, hoping dreamless sleep will claim her and she can actually get some rest. Instead insomnia keeps it far away.

Just like last night, and the night before that. Where are these nightmares coming from? Jack and Mac don't seem to have any trouble sleeping, so why is she?

Wouldn't be fair to bother them after the hard work they put in yesterday so she stays in bed alone, shivering and miserable, until the first grayish wash of morning creeps through the bedroom window.

Wondering just how much more she can take before going completely nuts.

****************

Ten thousand souls.

All that remains of what once were billions of human beings. The total population, on New Earth and scattered among the Alpha, Beta and Gamma sites. Military, scientists and ordinary civilians alike. Various ages, races and nationalities, finally united under a common purpose and destiny.

Funny how it takes a crisis to draw people together, Daniel muses. The end of the world put paid to the myriad age-old conflicts, the social and political divisions hindering humanity's progress for centuries. Now they have a second chance, a fresh start. To learn from the mistakes of the past and make certain they never occur again.

The conference room is jam-packed this morning with members of SG teams, senior staff and various department heads. Familiar setting in some ways- same impressive long table, same informative screens- yet different in others, the walls freshly painted and windows letting in more light facing the inner compound. Outside the SGC flag flies proudly from a tall pole in the center, while on the opposite side looms the giant hangar protecting the Stargate and related equipment from the elements, along with the main armory.

No more hiding underground. From now on it's an open secret.

"Our surroundings may have changed, but the primary objective remains the same," Hammond asserts to everyone gathered for the briefing. "Protect our homeworld from outside threats by establishing trade and alliances with other civilizations, acquiring and utilizing new technologies, and expanding our knowledge of the universe around us.

"Within the next few months regular missions will resume, both through the Gate as well as expeditions to assess the conditions and resources of our new home. The latter in particular will be on a voluntary basis. Members of both military and scientific branches are encouraged to participate as time permits, along with interested civilians."

"Civilians, sir?" Sam inquires.

"Yes, after a screening and training period. We can no longer keep the general population completely at arm's length, though secrecy regarding certain operations will naturally be maintained. From their numbers, after all, will come future members of the SGC. Our success as a community depends on everyone doing their part, in full awareness of what's at stake.

"Which brings me to a very important caveat. As we are no longer able to contact Old Earth through the Stargate, we must assume it's lost to us forever. Therefore changes will be made to reflect our new reality. Much as it pains me to admit it, for all intents and purposes we are no longer members of the United States military--"

Surprise ripples through the room. Hammond lifts his hand and it subsides.

"--Even though we should be forever proud we served as such to the best of our abilities. The SGC will remain as it is, but from now on we are also members of the New Earth Defense Force, or NEDF. Ranking and promotion structure will be condensed and integrated where necessary. Most regulations and other elements of the UCMJ will remain intact, though some may be adjusted or discarded altogether as circumstances permit."

Daniel hides a smile as Jack and Sam both perk up at this, studiously avoiding each other's gaze. While they've hid their growing mutual attraction under the veneer of duty for the good of the outfit it's obvious to anyone who cares to pay attention. If Hammond's aware of the situation- much less sympathetic- he's doing a good job of not showing it; Daniel's always suspected the General cares more than he lets on for his wayward flagship team.

Regardless, the rules against fraternization simply don't make sense anymore in the face of certain biological imperatives pertaining to their continued survival as a species. Though Daniel's not keen on seeing traditional marriage roles or repeated childbearing enforced by law either, particularly without due consideration for those concealing their true preferences due to DADT.

It's a new world, after all. They can afford to treat each other better. Love is love, no matter where one finds it.

Chief planetologist Karen Giovanni raises a hand. "Sir, does this mean we're under a military dictatorship for the time being?" A trace of apprehension in her words, with good reason.

"I understand your concern, doctor. I assure you that's not the case. Dr. Weir and the Steering Committee have meetings planned to work on the establishment of a constitution and the most optimal form of government for our needs. Everyone is welcome to attend and offer suggestions."

Hammond sweeps his gaze around the room, ensuring he's got everyone's full attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, for better or worse this is our new home. In addition to our original mandate we now have a second one, just as important- to further develop the settlement and ensure our mutual survival. After our success in carrying out the contingency plan, I firmly believe everyone here is up to the challenge. Dismissed."

"There we go, campers," Jack mutters under his breath as the crowd disperses. "Same song, second verse. Here's hoping we don't blow it."

Daniel can only agree.

They've got to succeed this time, or risk total destruction. No other choice, really.

****************

After the briefing Daniel pulls his chair forward and flips open the folder. Reaches for his coffee cup and takes a sip. Smiles in perfect contentment.

Peace and quiet. Just the way he likes it.

Set up and organization of the offices, labs, reference library and artifact storage is finally finished, except for some improvements here and there since they have more space. The other members of their modest department- the best in their respective disciplines, though a bit oddball at times even to him- have also been acclimating nicely to the new arrangements.

Even so it's a good thing he has an assistant these days, always cheerful and industrious. How he managed it all before her- going on missions in addition to translating, research, briefings, chairing the department- doesn't bear thinking about.

He casts a fond smile in her direction. Took a bit of finagling to get Becky her own desk and chair, but she's worth it.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. She's leaning back, arms loosely crossed over her chest, eyes closed. Sound asleep.

Daniel chuckles, though quietly. So much for cheerful and industrious.

His amusement turns to worry as she begins shifting, face contorting in fear and frustration, growing more and more restless with every passing second.

Neither of them are strangers to staying up well past midnight and taking the occasional nap when needed. But this doesn't feel the same.

He'd better make sure she doesn't incur any lasting harm to herself.

"Becky? Time to wake up." Keeping his voice soft, the nudge on her shoulder light so as not to startle her. 

With an explosive force she lunges forward, eyes wide open. "No!"

He backs away, palms raised in placation. "Easy, now. Relax. You're fine, it's just me."

She stares blankly at him, disoriented for the moment. Blinks several times. "Daniel? What's going on?"

"You were having a nightmare. You okay?"

"Not really." She grimaces, rubbing her forehead. "God, it felt so real."

He notes the circles under her eyes with a concerned frown. More exhausted than rested.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He heads for the small adjoining restroom, brings back a wet washcloth, silently blessing Alvarez and his foresight in planning decent facilities. "Here."

She takes it, burying her face in its warmth with a little moan. He patiently waits while she composes herself. "Feeling better yet?"

A faint sigh. "Yeah."

"How long have you been having nightmares?"

She looks away and bites her lower lip, reluctant to answer.

"C'mon, Becky. Talk to me." He kneels beside her, gently rubbing her arm. "How long?"

"Since I beamed down with Mac and Jack. You really want to help?"

"Well, I have had some experience coping with bad dreams. Unless you'd prefer discussing this with your uncles instead?" Secretly hoping she doesn't.

She shudders. "God. Definitely not. They'd start worrying and blaming themselves somehow- or at least Mac would- and there's nothing they can do. Promise me you won't say anything to them? Please?" There's no way he can refuse with that anxious look in her eyes.

"I promise."

"Thanks." Her relief is palpable. "How often do you have nightmares, anyway?"

He grimaces. "More than I'd admit to anyone else. But as I've said before, while not exactly a friendly universe I still believe the wonders outweigh the dangers. I'm glad I can share them with you."

"So am I." A corner of her mouth turns up. "Even if nightmares are an occupational hazard in the SGC."

"Don't worry, we'll work through them together." Daniel checks the clock, pursing his lips in thought. Wonders if it would be presumptuous to ask her out after work. She's a fellow introvert after all, he knows she needs her space.

On the other hand, he doesn't like seeing her this way. Might be wise to offer a distraction. "Tell you what- why don't we knock off early and go out for the evening?"

She blinks in surprise. "You mean like a date?"

"Sure. There's live music playing all around the settlement these days, people getting together and playing for fun. Might be fun to find a group and listen in."

"You're kidding. Actual, live music?"

"I'm not. Apparently on a whim one of the salvage teams brought back instruments and sheet music from stores as far north as Denver, even managing to get a piano or two through the Gate from what I hear. It's become a way for military and civilians alike to blow off steam. And there's talk of an informal project being set up to preserve memories and history of Old Earth through music, sponsored by Diana Goodwin and her Sociology team."

"Sounds like a good idea. You really think the boss will let us go early, though? He's an awfully strict taskmaster."

"Oh, I'm sure he can be persuaded," winking at her. "Let's get some work done first, okay?"

"Sure, boss. Whatever you say." Nice to see Becky grinning openly now, the light back in her eyes.

Yeah, peace and quiet and a cheerful assistant.

Just the way he likes it.

****************

They amble home through the streets under the lambent glow of two moons. Random snatches of conversation and laughter drift through the air as people settle in for the night. A reassuring reminder they're not alone in the universe.

Becky tucks her arm around his and leans against him, in a way that makes his heart thump a little faster in sheer pleasure. "Nice night," she says softly.

"It is." He should be enjoying this private, casually intimate moment. Yet Daniel's mind is on something else entirely.

All day he's been inwardly debating whether or not to tell Mac and Jack about Becky's nightmares. The puzzlement and frustration- along with a touch of fear- he saw in her eyes has made him more than a little concerned for her sanity.

On one hand, he promised not to tell. And he believes in keeping his word.

On the other hand, they're her family. Surely they have more experience than he does in handling her nightmares.

Right?

The wind picks up. Becky shivers, rubs her arms for warmth.

"Cold?"

"A little. I've always been sensitive, even on summer nights. Mac always thought it weird but that's just the way I am."

"Here." Daniel takes his jacket off and drapes it around her shoulders.

"Thanks. Sure you're okay without it?"

"I'm fine."

Eventually they reach the residential square where their team's Quonsets are located. "Thanks for going with me tonight," he says. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was. Thanks for asking me. I enjoyed it."

"Want to come over to my place for coffee or something? It's just over there."

"I'd love to. Only--" She rubs at her forehead.

"Still feeling weird from earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry to hear that. I've been thinking. If you have more trouble sleeping tonight you ought to see Janet about it first thing in the morning."

"That an order, boss?" That impish smile of hers is really charming.

"Uh-huh. The well-being of my assistant's important to me, you know." He cups one side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. "Very important," he adds softly.

His other arm slides around her waist, gently tugging her close. She makes no objection, even fitting her own arms around him. The rim of her glasses gleams in the moons' light. Strands of auburn hair lift and sway in the evening breeze. Soft full lips part in anticipation as she tilts her head up, awaiting his kiss.

There's the oddest sense of déjà vu, though for the life of him he has no idea why.

No matter. He'd be a happy man if they could stay like this forever. Perfection.

The door opens, light spilling onto the darkness. Mac and Jack peer outside.

"Hey, there you are--" Mac blinks in surprise. "Ah. Sorry. Were we interrupting anything?"

Jack just grins. "Hey, kids. Enjoying your date?"

Becky sighs as she pulls away from Daniel- reluctantly, he's pleased to note. "A bit late to start acting parental, guys. Don't you think?"

"Oh, this is a perfect time." Jack tilts his chin up, rocks back on his heels. "So. You two gonna stand out there all night or what?"

Unbelievable. "Jack..."

"Daniel."

Becky's eyes narrow. "Seriously?"

"Beck." He's incorrigible sometimes, really. Even when he's teasing.

"For crying out loud. Quit it, okay?" Mac chides him.

Jack smirks but says nothing more.

Becky takes off the jacket and hands it to Daniel with a shy smile. "Thanks for the loan."

"My pleasure."

Her eyes drop to the ground, a flush tinting her cheeks. "Well, um--"

"Yeah, I--" He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.

Flash of memory back to Seattle, that sweet first kiss. And also a month ago, sitting in front of the coverstone.

Dare he do the same now, in full view of her uncles?

Her gaze darts anxiously between the three of them. "Um, guess I'll turn in now. Maybe a rain check on that coffee?"

"Sure."

She rises on tiptoe, quickly kisses him on the cheek. "See you tomorrow. Sleep well."

"You too." He stares after her as she passes between her uncles. Swears he can still feel that spot tingling.

Jack rubs his chin, thoughtfully. Says nothing, though Daniel's sure the wheels are turning for some sort of appropriate quip.

Mac adjusts his leather jacket against the cold, studiously hiding his amusement. "So, Daniel. You and Becky have a nice time?"

"Hmm?" He blinks. "Oh yeah, we did, thanks. Um, isn't it a bit late to be going out at this hour yourself?"

"Janet just got off-shift. Though I'd visit a bit with her and Cassie before she goes to bed."

Jack smirks. "You dog, you."

"Like you're one to talk. How often are you over at Sam's lately, anyway?"

"Hey, whatever Carter and I get up to off-duty is none of your business..."

Daniel barely pays attention to their banter. He doesn't want to betray Becky's trust, and yet--

Jack's whistle brings him back to earth. "Something on your mind, Danny?"

"Yeah. Right. I probably shouldn't tell you guys but-- "

Identical quirked eyebrows. God, that's scary.

"She's having trouble sleeping. Nightmares."

They share a glance, then Jack nods. "We've kinda noticed. For how long, ya think?"

"Since you guys beamed down, apparently."

"Huh. Wonder why she hasn't said anything before this."

"Probably wanted to spare our feelings, too worried about us worrying a lot over her to say anything," Mac says. "You know how she is. What do you think is causing them, Daniel?"

"I have no idea. I suggested she see Janet at the hospital tomorrow, though."

Mac nods. "Smart. I'll let her know Becky might be stopping by. See you guys later."

"Don't stay up too late," Jack warns. "You may be in danger of inheriting bad habits from our niece." Mac rolls his eyes before heading down the street.

Jack yawns, stretches. "I'm gonna turn in myself. Thanks for the heads-up, Danny. See ya later."

Daniel heads for his quarters, hoping he's done the right thing by confiding in her uncles.

Feeling guilty all the same, for betraying her confidence.

****************

The settlement hospital is larger than the base infirmary yet smaller than most facilities back on Old Earth. Nevertheless, the staff pretty much runs the gamut of medical specialties, comprised of the doctors, nurses and technicians recruited from the Air Force Academy hospital with sufficient security clearance at the time of the ingathering and other professionals discovered among the refugees and integrated into the medical corps. As CMO for the SGC as well as the settlement Janet splits her time between both.

"It's not uncommon for any of us to have the odd nightmare as a way of dealing with stress," Janet says to Becky after her exam. "Heaven knows I've had a few myself since the Program started. No one else has ever reported a run of bad dreams quite like yours, though. Anything unusual happen to you or your uncles during the journey?"

"Not that I know of. And yet for some reason I can't shake the notion I'm forgetting something important."

"In what way?"

Becky shrugs. "Beats me. Feels like I'm hitting a wall every time I think about it. Frustrating as hell, sometimes."

"I can imagine." Janet makes notes on a clipboard. "Kate Heightmeyer's still working out of Alpha Base. I can contact her, we could try some hypnosis to jog your memory if you're willing."

Not a bad idea. Maybe she could finally get some decent sleep--

No, a voice of caution whispers from within. The time is not yet right.

--Then again, she's been paying closer attention to her gut feelings of late.

"...I don't think so. Not right now, anyway. I'll keep it in mind, though."

"All right. Other than symptoms of sleep deprivation there's nothing else wrong with you, according to my findings. I'm recommending a good long rest, along with some strategies for dealing with stress and anxiety. Can't really prescribe you anything to help you sleep, since medicines are in short supply until we can find herbal equivalents. But I do know of something that might help. A little bird told me you love chocolate, the darker the better." A twinkle of humor in her eyes.

"A bird on Jack's shoulder, no doubt." Becky chuckles. "Yeah, the family sweet tooth. Him and cake, me and chocolate. And Mac loves ice cream; you might want to remember that in case we figure out how to reproduce it here. The way to a man's heart, you know."

"I'll be sure to keep it in mind," Janet says dryly. She reaches into a desk drawer, hands her a candy bar. "One piece per day, to boost serotonin levels and ease anxieties. Doctor's orders." She winks.

"Out of your personal stash, even. You'd make a terrific aunt, you know that?"

"You'd make a pretty good niece yourself." She turns serious. "Listen, if you have any issues that you don't want your uncles to know about you can always bring them to me instead, and not only because I'd like to be your aunt someday. We look out for each other, here as well as out there," gesturing towards the larger universe, "so we tend to think of ourselves as an extended family. Which includes you and Mac by the way, ever since Jack brought you in. My door is always open if you need some girl talk, and so is Sam's."

"I appreciate it. Thanks for seeing me. And- could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Don't tell my uncles we talked, okay? They've got better things to do than worry about my bad dreams. Please?"

There's a funny half-smile on Janet's lips. "I promise, Becky. Take care."

The chocolate tastes as good as she remembers. Dark and rich and delicious. Her kind of medicine.

It doesn't help much with the nightmares later, alas. But it certainly improves her mood in the meantime.

****************

One of Janet's recommendations is regular exercise. Becky thinks back to Norris, and how woefully unprepared she was to face him even if he was drunk. Never again.

She's a pacifist but even so she knows she can't depend completely on others to protect her. Basic self-defense isn't going to cut it, if she ever finds herself in serious trouble while accompanying Daniel on a mission. More specialized instruction is needed, and she knows just who to ask.

The gym and training areas are tucked in a corner of the base. Marines and airmen alike of the newly-reorganized NEDF jog in formation along an improvised running oval marked out in the dirt, do calisthenics or perform hand-to-hand drills. As his platoon passes by newly-promoted Sergeant Ed Perkins smiles and gives her a subtle wave, which she returns.

In a side room of the main gym a training circle has been set up. Teal'c is the sole occupant, swinging a wooden staff through the air. Blocking, striking, twisting and lunging, every move with grace and power.

Becky observes in silence, admiring. Not bad for at least a hundred years old according to Daniel. A formidable warrior by all accounts. Strong code of honor and fierce loyalty to his friends. A subtle sense of humor, too.

When finished he stands in place, displaying not even the smallest trace of surprise at seeing her. "Becky Grahme. Do you require some assistance?"

She takes a deep breath. "Could you please teach me to fight like that?"

Dark alien eyes appraise her. "I have been expecting you, after your altercation with Lieutenant Norris. You are concerned with protecting yourself, are you not?"

"Um, yeah. I am. I know some self-defense but I'd like to learn more. I'm not keen on hurting anyone but in case I go on missions with you guys I don't want to be completely useless, either. You know?"

"Indeed." He strides to a rack located against a nearby wall, frowns in concentration before selecting a staff shorter than his and passing it to her. Without warning he swings his own through the air, aiming directly for her head. Becky barely manages to parry in time.

Every subsequent offensive move on her part is easily blocked. Though she does okay on defense for longer than she'd thought she soon gets tired and misses his next attack. Taking advantage his staff lightly taps the side of her arm and she drops hers to the floor, conceding the match.

Teal'c makes no comment but is clearly sizing her up. She's trying hard not to feel intimidated by his scrutiny.

Finally he nods to himself. "O'Neill has told me you do not like early mornings. Is immediately prior to the midday meal an acceptable time for practice, should neither of us be engaged in other activities?"

She blinks. "Yes, it is. Thank you."

"Very well. My honor to teach you." A formal bow, fist to chest.

She follows his example. "My honor to learn from you."

He looks pleased. "You are surely one of the most courteous Tau'ri I have met, Becky Grahme. I approve."

"Um, thanks." Her cheeks redden. She really should learn how to handle unexpected compliments better.

****************

One day Jack strolls into the lab, hands casually in pockets. "Hey, Beck."

"Hey yourself. Daniel stepped out for a bit. Is there anything you need from him?"

"Nope. Just you."

"Come again?"

"There's still a few pieces of cake left in the mess from lunch. Chocolate, too. Care to stage a raid with me, liberate them out from under Sergeant White's considerable nose?"

"C'mon, Uncle Jack," she chides. "That's not nice. His nose isn't that big."

"I'll apologize to him later. So whaddya say, kiddo? Might be the last time we get to enjoy real Old Earth chocolate cake mix."

He's offering her his most disarming grin and eyes are twinkling in innocent mischief but something seems off. Jack's never approached her like this before, at least not for spontaneous uncle-niece time over cake. She briefly wonders what else he's got up his sleeve. He's more astute than he lets on, after all.

Yet she knows he'd never hurt her, and she's due for a break besides. Daniel wouldn't mind, especially if she saves him a piece.

"Sure," she says with a shrug. "Why not?"

The cake, of course, turns out to be delicious and the conversation amusing, as Jack regales her with the funnier exploits of his team that didn't make it into the official mission reports. No hidden agenda whatsoever.

But that's not the end to the strangeness.

A few days later Mac shows off his latest fav swap from Corrigan in Supply- a reel of fishing line. He suggests an afternoon together on the river next restday, having fashioned poles and lures in his usual ingenious style.

"More family bonding time?" she asks, irritated. "Did you and Jack compare notes?"

He looks a little put out. "I just thought we could both use a break since we've been busy with our own stuff lately. You know, like the camping trips we took to catch up on things. But if you don't want to--"

"No, no, I'd like that," she says quickly. "I bet we'll catch some interesting fish who've never seen bait on a hook before. Makes a nice change from Jack's pond where nothing ever bites."

The outing is fun, catching sample fish for Zoology to study and swapping stories. But the fact he made the offer out of the blue in the first place still makes her suspicious.

Something weird is going on with her uncles, without a doubt.

****************

By the end of the surprisingly mild summer, life on New Earth is steadily gaining ground.

Missions resume through the Gate, investigating leads to Ancient tech, finding new allies, renewing bonds with existing ones and generally expanding their knowledge of the galaxy. Elizabeth Weir and the diplomatic team of SG-9 in particular are kept busy round the clock, arranging treaties and trade agreements for needed resources like naquadah and certain other goods and services that are fast becoming in short supply.

It's early days and the settlement doesn't have much yet in the way of actual goods to barter in return. But at least they can offer medical assistance and physical labor provided by marines for harvesting, along with information and technical how-tos for developing civilizations who wish to achieve independence and self-sufficiency apart from the System Lords on the sly. Dr. Wang Xiaoli- one of the other anthropologists in the department- calls it guanxi, a Chinese concept of social credit through building goodwill. These days they need a lot of it to gain every advantage possible over the Goa'uld.

Survey expeditions have also been planned in the valley and beyond, so naturally adequate transportation has become a major concern. It's a fair journey to get out of the valley- the nearest gap to the north between the mountain ranges is half a day away from the settlement on foot, with the southern end even further.

But solutions are being found to solve that problem. Sam, Mac and other engineers have been developing ATVs or all-terrain-vehicles for exploration, based loosely on MALP designs and cobbled together out of spare parts scrounged by the salvage teams from the Air Force Academy and Peterson AFB motor pools. Since most aircraft had been too large and awkward to dismantle and cart through the Mountain back on Old Earth, scientists at Alpha Base are working on transports that can convey people as needed and still slip through the Gate with room to spare.

Zoologists have identified an equine-like species for more local use, buggies and wagons and so forth. A side project which has caught Mac's interest, encouraging what Becky claims are her uncle's latent dreams of being a cowboy. Jack teases him about it every chance he gets.

It's amazing how much can be accomplished when people put their minds to it. Good thing they're a resourceful species as well as adaptable.

Alvarez and his crew are building rudimentary roads in every direction, when they're not putting up more permanent buildings of timber and stone for protection against the rapidly-changing inclement weather. The new department of Meteorology has been issuing predictions lately about the severity of the coming autumn storms due to the valley's unusual geography, the narrow gap at its northern end apparently having the potential to create a funnel effect for wind. Under the Mountain Dr. Bernadino was the only geoscientist taking an interest in offworld weather phenomena and- being deep underground- local weather conditions didn't really affect base operations much. The contingency plan, however, anticipated a greater need and so civilian atmospheric researchers and Air Force meteorologists working out of Peterson were recruited into the SGC during the Ingathering. They're still pretty excited about studying climate patterns on a whole new planet.

Daniel's pretty busy himself, though Becky- bless her industrious heart- has taken over all the translating in Ancient, leaving him free to go on missions and such without feeling too overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work.

It gives him a sense of satisfaction when he goes to bed most nights, knowing progress is being made.

Of course, on date nights with Becky his senses are stimulated in other ways...

****************

Becky's days are likewise full, taken up with translation work, training with Teal'c, and assisting with the organization of the settlement's library. Not to mention the occasional mission offworld with SG-1 after completing an informal training period. They've had some pretty weird adventures so far, though the others just seem to consider them par for the course.

For a social life there are girl talks with Sam and Janet, shared mealtimes and movie nights with the rest of the gang. Turns out Teal'c is- ironically enough- quite the connoisseur of science-fiction media. She's made other friends in the SGC as well on New Earth and Alpha Base alike, which surprises her since it was a skill she never mastered as a kid. And because of her last-minute arrival with Mac she sometimes feels she hasn't yet truly found her place within the Program.

On the rare occasions she and Daniel have an evening free together they attend informal concerts around the settlement, enjoying the music as much as each other's company. While he never presses for anything more it's hard for her to imagine being in another relationship anytime soon. Given their lives right now it's better they just remain good friends anyway.

To top it all off she's managed to convince herself she hasn't done enough to help improve the settlement so on a whim one evening she attends one of the Steering Committee's constitutional meetings. Her suggestion of a council-based government in which members are elected from within each specialty plus one from the general population causes many to take notice, including Elizabeth Weir as chairperson.

"That's a very intriguing idea, ensuring a truly informed electorate," she remarks to Becky during a recess. "What inspired you to suggest it, if I may ask?"

"Oh, the idea just sort of came to me. We're on a new planet, might as well try a different approach, right? Learning from past mistakes."

Weir nods, thoughtfully. "MacGyver's always asserted some of his best ideas come from you. I can see he wasn't entirely joking. Any others you'd like to share if you have the time?"

"Well, as a matter of fact..."

It's amazing the number of ideas she comes up with every meeting. Most likely because of all those sci-fi stories she's read over the years about space colonies accidental and planned, failed and successful. Along with a touch of her mother's foresight, seeing problems before they happen.

Certainly nothing more than that.

In time the nightmares lose their frequency, if not their intensity. Leaving only a nagging sense behind she once experienced something terribly important.

If only she could remember what it is.

****************

Around what the planetologists have determined as the Autumn Equinox Hammond decides a service ought to be held. A memorial for Old Earth, to reflect on what they've lost and be grateful for what they still have. Thanksgiving combined with the Mexican Day of the Dead, in a manner of speaking.

A grove of tall everblue trees similar to the giant sequoias and coastal redwoods of Old Earth has been preserved in one of the central forums. It's quiet and peaceful within the roughly oval-shaped clearing, such a powerful sense of awe prevailing that the religious in the settlement use it as a sacred space every restday.

For this occasion rows of chairs and a podium have been set up, by reflex also displaying flags of the United States, the Air Force and the SGC. Daniel suspects soon the former two will be ceremoniously removed and preserved for posterity with only the latter remaining until a new flag is designed for the settlement.

He straightens his tie- he hasn't worn a suit in a long time- and joins the others huddled awkwardly together before the ceremony begins. Jack, Sam and Janet in dress blues, Mac and Becky in the nicest clothes they'd managed to pack before the Big Quake.

She offers him a tentative smile. "You look nice."

"So do you."

Mac grimaces, fidgeting with his suit. "Can we get on with this, already?"

"You do not approve of ceremonies honoring the dead, MacGyver?" Teal'c inquires with a slight frown.

"No, he just hates wearing a tie," Jack says with a faint smirk. His brother shoots him an irritated glare.

Becky sighs, closing her eyes. "Guys, please. Not today."

Sam throws them a concerned look over her shoulder from where she's standing with Jacob- and the symbiote Selmak, of course- who's doing double duty as both representative of the Tok'ra and former fellow citizen of Old Earth. Father and daughter are subdued as they talk, probably thinking of Mark and his family.

In the hectic months between the Big Quake and Zero Hour there wasn't much time for anyone to mourn properly. Everyone is today, though. There isn't a single person who hasn't experienced loss of one kind or another when the world ended. Just like New Year's Eve under the Mountain this ceremony is intended to provide closure, basically a controlled outlet for community grieving. Bidding the Old Earth a final farewell before focusing their attention firmly on the New.

Two Asgard appear in a flash of light, Thor and another Daniel doesn't recognize with a bluish cast to his skin. "Hey, guys," Jack says. "Glad you could make it."

Thor inclines his head. "Greetings to all. My colleague Baldur and I are honored to bear Witness," Becky startles a little at the words, "for our race on this momentous occasion. You have made great progress with your new home. The Asgard High Council will be most pleased. Now if you will excuse us we must go and thank General-Governor Hammond for extending the invitation."

Presently Colonel Caldwell passes by, with a nod to Jack. Following in his wake are others assigned to Alpha Base during the ingathering, among them Lt. Colonel Mitchell and Drs. Beckett, Heightmeyer and Zelenka. Major Sheppard trails behind, chatting in familiar fashion with both Elizabeth and- of all people- Rodney McKay. Sheppard winks at Becky, giving a gentle bump to her shoulder with his arm. She smiles back at him in a way that makes Daniel vaguely jealous, even though she insists John reminds her more of her older brother than anything.

"Looks like the gang's all here," Jack quips once everyone is assembled. "Time to get this show on the road."

The memorial service is pretty informal for such a solemn affair. Hammond presides as General-Governor along with Captain Andrea Sedgewick, the green-eyed, dark-haired base chaplain (nondenominational) and confessor-advocate. There's no set program, the floor open to anyone who wants to contribute, military or civilian.

And they do. Lining up to speak behind the podium, one by one.

Prayers and psalms are spoken, from every known religion. Poems, favorite quotes and book passages are read, honoring nature or the human spirit. Memories shared- small details of everyday life as well as important events. Songs both sacred and secular are sung. Every utterance punctuated by moments of contemplative silence.

A celebration of life for their homeworld, now forever lost.

No one's holding back their emotions today. Tears flow freely down the faces of participants and audience alike, save for the Asgard who look on in attentive sympathy.

Daniel wipes his own away, thinks of speaking himself. Though nothing he could add would be any different to what's already being said.

Traditionally in funeral services words are offered for the dead, speeding them on their way. But also for the living, to give a sense of closure and comfort. This memorial is no different.

"Is there anyone else who'd like to contribute before we conclude?" Hammond finally asks after the last one in line has spoken.

Out of the corner of Daniel's eye a gray, six-fingered hand alights on Becky's arm. "Time to remember, Dr. Grahme," Thor says, so softly he can barely hear the words.

For a moment she stares at the Asgard in puzzlement. Then her eyes widen and she utters a small, shocked gasp. She stands and hurries to the podium, Mac and Jack raising identical eyebrows at her alacrity.

Tense minutes pass as she stands there, looking so small, vulnerable and unsure. Her eyes frantically scan the audience, focusing first on her uncles who both mouth at her Be brave then on Daniel, reminding him of her presentation in Seattle. Just like then he nods and gives her a small smile of encouragement.

He has no idea what she's about to say but he has a feeling it's gonna be interesting.

Finally she takes a deep breath and speaks in a loud clear voice.

"My name is Rebecca Ellen Grahme, and I bore Witness to the end of the world."

****************

Daniel listens, as enraptured as everyone else by her simple, moving words. And as appalled.

No wonder she's had nightmares. Though he's not sure if it's a blessing or a curse Thor had suppressed her memory until now. Either way this is something that will surely go down in settlement history.

Becky describes each step as it happened right up to the very last image, the Moon in solitary orbit around a cloud of dust, volatiles, tiny black holes and exotic particles. Leaving absolutely no doubt they can never return to their beloved homeworld.

"The Earth is gone," she says in conclusion. "Finished. I urge you now to look at each other, and at yourselves. What you see is all that remains of a planet of remarkable diversity and complexity, and we are incredibly lucky to have found another that rivals it. Therefore we should do everything we can to preserve our new home right from the start, from the environment all the way to looking out for one another.

"For we have a second chance, to learn from the mistakes of the past for the betterment of all. No more slavery, no more discrimination of any kind. No more taking without need. Treat others with kindness and consideration. Seek peace when and however you can. Give and receive love with whomever you wish as long as there is mutual consent. Above all we must be more mindful of our new home, and of one another. No one else can do it for us. If we squander this precious opportunity we've been given, it will surely result in our collective downfall. Thank you."

No one says a word in response. Even Hammond's rendered speechless, the note card with suitable closing remarks resting forgotten in his hands.

After a while the crowd breaks up, still in thoughtful silence. Eventually only the seven of them remain in the grove, the trees witnessing in their own fashion.

Mac's the first to recover, followed by Jack. In unspoken agreement they rise and head for Becky, who's clearly more than a little dazed herself. Just like she looked after laying into Sanderson, Daniel realizes.

"You okay, Beck?" Mac ventures, carefully touching her shoulder. She startles and he backs away a little. "Easy, now," he soothes. "Relax. It's only us."

She stares blankly first at him then her surroundings, brow furrowed. "Guys, what's going on? What am I doing here at the podium?"

"You don't remember, kiddo?" Jack asks. "You just delivered one hell of a finish to the service. Don't think I've ever seen the General at such a loss for words before, and that's saying something."

"What on earth are you talking about? What exactly did I do?"

By this time Daniel's recovered his own composure. "You told us what you Witnessed, Becky," he says gently. "The end of the world."

Jack scowls. "Naturally Thor's already beamed away, without so much as a peep of apology for what he did to you. Damn, but I'd like to punch him in his little gray non-existent nose for putting you through hell like that--"

For a moment she can only look at them in frank incredulity. Then gasps, her hands covering her mouth in shock. "Oh, god. Those weren't just bad dreams I had of the Earth tearing itself apart, they were really memories. I saw it happen."

"Yep. No wonder you were going a little wacko."

"You could've told us earlier, sweetheart," Mac gently chides her. "We would've found a way to help, you know that--"

Her eyes narrow. "Wait a minute. You already knew I was having nightmares?"

Jack rubs the back of his head, sharing an uneasy glance with his brother. "Yeah, you could say...."

"Does the whole settlement know?"

Mac swallows at the rising anger in her tone. "Well, no. Just me, and Jack. Janet, too," who nods reluctant confirmation.

"But how? Who told you guys?"

Silence. No one's able to meet her accusatory gaze.

"Um, I did," Daniel finally hears himself confess.

She rounds on him, her expression equal parts astonishment, confusion and humiliation. "You did what?"

"I told them you were having nightmares, Becky. It was me."

"But why, for crying out loud? You promised me you wouldn't!" Tears form in her eyes.

"I...I thought they should know," he stammers. "I mean, they're your family, right? I was so worried about you, I didn't know what else to do."

For a time she can only stare at him, then a gut-wrenching sob escapes her. "Oh Daniel, how could you?"

"Becky, I'm sorry. If you'll please let me explain--"

She spins on her heel and runs off. He stares after her retreating form with a growing sense of unease, like he's in danger of losing something infinitely precious--

A sudden smack on the back of his head makes him stumble. "What the hell?"

Jack's glaring at him. "Danny, for a guy who's supposed to be so damn smart I've seen you do some really boneheaded things over the past few years. But this takes the cake." A glint of anger in his eyes, like when he wants to shoot someone.

"Oh come on--"

"Ah!" Holding up his index finger. "If you don't follow after my niece right now and apologize, so help me I'll kill you where I stand, and make sure it's permanent. You hear me?"

"But, Jack--"

He makes a shooing motion. "Go on, get. Tell her you love her. That's an order."

Daniel doesn't need to be told twice.

Chapter Text

She stumbles her way through the settlement, blinded by tears in her eyes. People point and whisper as she passes.

It's her, the Witness.

Saw the end of Old Earth.

Arrived in a beam of light, to guide us in the New.

Great. Just what she needs. Forever regarded as a freak in her own community.

Is there anyone, anyone at all, who accepts her for herself?

Your uncles do, a voice whispers from within. You know that.

She's not so sure now, considering the look of awe- or perhaps fear, which is worse- in their eyes.

Set apart all over again, as she'd been growing up. Rejected by her peers because she was so much smarter than they were, not needing the approval of others like they did. Constantly put down until convinced of her own inadequacies, the reassurances of her family notwithstanding: Too short, too ordinary, nothing special about you, not worth anyone's attention--

"Becky, wait!"

Oh, god. Daniel. The one person she thought understood her like no one else.

Why did he have to go and betray her like that?

Maybe if she runs far enough away everyone will forget about her. She won't have to see the pity in their eyes, the empty platitudes.

She dashes down one street and another, from what's already being called the Memorial Grove to the woods on the western periphery, bordering the river.

Thunder rolls above. The wind picks up and clouds open in a torrential downpour, the beginning of the tempestuous autumn storm season.

Eerily similar to her nightmares but there's no time to seek shelter. She plunges through the forest- dodging trees, slipping and stumbling in the mud, picking herself up to do it all over again. Because nothing matters but the running, the desire to escape.

"Becky, I'm sorry--"

Why does she still hear Daniel's voice? He abandoned her. Just like her family.

She can't stop now. It's better this way, have no one care than lose them and leave her forever alone.

"Becky, hold on, it's dangerous--"

She doesn't realize she's reached the steep river bank until she trips over a downed branch. Sending her skidding through the mud feet first, almost all the way to the edge.

A hand grabs her before she can slip into the water. Strong arms pull her tight against a firm male chest, warm and alive.

She gasps for breath, her heart pounding in her ears. Shuddering and clinging to him even as she wants to push him away and keep going.

"Got you. God, that was close," Daniel says, breathing hard himself. "Come on, let's get out of here before the weather gets any worse."

****************

Daniel's place is cold when he wearily ushers Becky inside, both of them exhausted and soaked to the skin. Thanks to campsite duties during overnight missions offworld he knows how to fiddle with the wood-burning stove (bless Alvarez for his foresight) and arrange kindling. He lights a match, feeding the growing flame with logs from a nearby pile. Soon the room is filled with a warm, cheery glow.

"Becky?"

She's staring sullenly into the fire, arms crossed tightly over her chest. He reaches for her and she flinches. "Go away."

"I can't, I live here. Besides, if I turn you out in weather like this Jack will kill me. And dying's not exactly something I'd care to repeat, or at least until a ripe old age," he adds in a weak attempt at humor.

She snorts but makes no other reply.

Silence stretches between them, punctuated by rain striking the roof and the crackling of the fire. Not companionable by any means.

It would've been better if he'd held his tongue. But his concern for her sanity had overridden any intention of keeping his promise.

He's a genius when it comes to understanding languages and other cultures, thanks to his empathy and compassion for others. Yet successful relationships and communication have always eluded him. As a result he's had very few deep, lasting friendships. What he has with Jack, Sam, Teal'c and Janet's been the next thing he's had to real family since- well, since his parents died.

And then there's this rapport he's shared with Becky since Seattle. Over the past few months he's come to treasure their connection as one of the best, most precious things in his life. He can only hope it hasn't been irrevocably ruined, as he's never felt this close to anyone else before.

There's nothing he wouldn't do to gain back Becky's trust, if only he has an idea where to start.

He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look. You're tired, wet and muddy. Probably as hungry as I am, too. So why don't you take a shower, and I'll see about finding a clean shirt you can wear while your stuff dries and fix us something to eat. Okay?"

She gives him a suspicious, narrow-eyed stare- as if trying to ascertain his motives- before nodding and heading for the bathroom without another word. She doesn't exactly slam the door, but the resounding whump is loud enough to make Daniel wince.

While she's in the shower he dries himself off with kitchen towels, checks the cupboards for food. There isn't much in the way of chocolate- an effective peace offering, according to Mac- but maybe hot food and drink will go a long way in appeasing her. He finds cans of chicken soup and peaches, along with a package of saltines. Some rummaging through his dwindling personal coffee stash yields a package of precious Jamaica Blue Mountain- the last in the known universe perhaps, but the sacrifice is for a worthy cause.

As the soup simmers and coffee brews he changes into a blue cotton t-shirt and faded flannel pajama bottoms, selecting one of his button-up shirts for Becky. Clears a corner of the table for dinner and sets up cushions and blankets in front of the couch for a cozy fireside nest.

Five minutes later he hears his hair dryer running. When it shuts off he gives a hesitant couple of taps to the bathroom door. "Becky? Got something here you can wear."

The door opens just enough for a glimpse of Becky wrapped in a towel, shoulders bare. Daniel swallows as his gaze sweeps automatically down her body, drinking her in. The scattering of freckles and blue traces of veins under the pale, almost translucent skin flushed with heat. The guarded brightness of her eyes, brimming with unshed tears. The burnished copper hair curling in the escaping steam. The exquisite curves of her petite form. The shadowed hollows of her collarbones, begging for kisses.

A flame kindles low in his belly, accompanied by a faint stirring in his loins. He swallows again. "Um, here you go," holding out the shirt. "Might be a bit big on you, though."

"Thanks." She takes it and closes the door quickly. A few minutes later she emerges, wiping her glasses on a corner of the shirt before putting them on.

He's never really understood the appeal of a woman wearing one of his button-up shirts. But now he does.

Deceptively delicate and vulnerable-looking, with the garment coming almost down to her knees and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Attractive and she doesn't even know it.

She slowly raises her head and their eyes meet.

Daniel sees himself reflected in her. The lingering pain, the sense of loss. Abandonment and betrayal. The toll it takes to keep all that from defining his life.

Like him Becky's struggled with finding herself, forging her unique identity away from the shadows cast by her uncles' formidable reputations. Determined to shape her own destiny yet unsure of her self-worth apart from her intellectual gifts.

She's his mirror, yet also unequivocally herself.

And he loves her for it.

Suddenly he realizes Jack was right. He loves her, with everything that's in him.

A longing seizes him, to hold her in his arms. Take care of her. Keep her forever safe.

But how can he do that if he's broken her trust so utterly?

She cocks her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, wariness slowly replaced with wry amusement. "Something you need?"

You, he thinks. "Dinner's ready."

****************

Afterwards they settle against the cushions and blankets by the wood-burning stove. Outside the storm rages through the settlement but inside they're dry, warm and fed.

Becky loves rainy weather, but only if she gets to enjoy the cozy indoor benefits.

She leans back against the couch, wrapping her arms around her drawn-up legs. Beside her Daniel adopts a similar pose, his expression speculative as he stares into the fire.

God, he's gorgeous. The way he looked at her wearing only a towel- and when she came out of the bathroom in the shirt he'd selected- still makes her quiver inside, which she hasn't felt for a long time around a man. Her heart skips a beat recalling the naked desire in his compelling blue gaze.

Yet she ought to be realistic. Surely he sees nothing in her except for a good friendship, considering he went behind her back and all. It felt like they were heading towards something more before the memorial service but now she wonders.

"Penny for your thoughts," she says softly.

"Just thinking about what you said at the memorial, the world ending the way it did. Must've been awful to watch."

"It was. And beautiful, in its own alarming way. I'm not sure if it was good thing or bad thing to have my memories suppressed, considering the number it did on my sanity."

"I'm sure Thor had his reasons."

"I suppose. I don't think I can forgive him for the nightmares, though. Felt like I was right there on the surface as the planet died." She shudders. "I've never felt so alone."

He touches her on the arm, gently rubbing. She doesn't object. "You aren't alone, Becky. Not ever. I hope you realize that." He pauses. "Good thing you were there to bear Witness. I can't imagine anyone more suitable."

She drops her eyes, one hand fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Not sure about that. Thor gave me an out, said I could decline if I wished. But instead I chose to stay, out of respect for his race as well as for everyone who'd already perished."

"That's what I meant by suitable. You have a rare sense of decency and honor. So does Jack under his flippancy."

She can't help the wry smile. "Runs in the family." 

Silence follows. Not quite as awkward as earlier, but not completely thawed either.

"Daniel, why did you go and tell them about my nightmares anyway, even when you promised not to?" She can't help the confusion and betrayal in her voice, all mixed together.

"Because they're your family, and I honestly thought they could help. I didn't mean to hurt you." Firelight shadows his eyes behind the glasses, giving them depth. "I don't expect you to forgive me. But I hope you understand I had good reason. I was so worried about you, Becky. Don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

So much honesty and sincerity in his voice. She swallows back a sob as her emotions threaten to overwhelm her already fragile self-control.

Why is it that being around Daniel brings her to tears as much as it does happiness? What is it about him?

She wants to forgive him, she really does. But what would happen in the future, if he feels he has to betray her trust again, even to save her life?

What advice would Mac or Jack give her? What would her mom say, or Harry for that matter?

Things don't happen until they do, kiddo. The best time to pick up the pieces and make the most of what's around you is when the chips are down, not before. Don't waste time worrying over a future that ain't here yet.

Pretty sensible guy, her great-grandfather.

God, she misses him. Misses her parents and Chris. Misses Pete and Jack Dalton and Nikki and even silly, scatterbrained Penny.

Misses everyone so very much.

This time tears flow freely down her cheeks.

"Hey--" Daniel turns to her with an anxious expression, eyes wide. "What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

She shakes her head, unable to answer for the sobs forming in her throat, cheeks burning red with her embarrassment.

Without another word he reaches over and pulls her against his shoulder while the storm outside echoes her heartbroken weeping. Stroking her hair and rocking a little. "Shh. Easy, now."

She curls up against him, crying her heart out. Clinging as if he was the only solid presence in her world. "Why," she wails, "why did I have to be the one to see the world end? Why those awful nightmares? Why me?"

"I don't know." He holds her tight against him, his voice soft, soothing. "I wish I did. But it's over now. Everything's fine. You're fine. I've got you."

"I...I can't...I can't live like this," she sobs. "I've lost so much. I want to die!"

"No, you don't. The world may have come to an end, but you're still here. Your uncles are still here. I'm still here. You're not alone."

She nestles closer against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "Don't ever leave me. Please."

"I won't. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you, hummingbird." He called her that once before, under the Mountain. It has the same effect.

Long fingers smooth down her hair, patiently calming her fears. She sniffs her way through the end of her tears until she rests quietly in the circle of his arms, utterly drained and beginning to feel warm and relaxed all the way through. The fire pops and cracks, little bits of blue and green flame among the red and orange, smelling like evergreens.

"Better yet?" he asks after a while.

She swallows down the lump remaining in her throat. "I...I think so. Sorry for breaking down like this, over nothing. It's embarrassing."

He smiles sympathetically and reaches to cup her face, thumb brushing along her cheek. "It's not for nothing. You're mourning for what we've lost, like we all are today. Only you've seen and felt that more keenly than any of us. It was a brave thing you did, coming forward at the service. You're stronger than you know, Becky. You can handle anything that comes your way."

"I wish I could believe you."

"You will, in time. I'm sorry for betraying you, I really am. Forgive me, please?"

She's been unfair to him, and it's not his fault. He's trying to look out for her, in the best way he knows how. He meant well, really. Still does.

Why did she want to keep it a secret from her uncles, anyway? Was sparing their feelings really all that important, because she'd feel guilty if they worried too much over her?

Though she hadn't been abandoned completely to the world like Daniel there's no denying she wouldn't have come as far without her uncles' steadfast love and support. Ever since the car crash they've been there for her.

And, she realizes, so is Daniel himself, here and now. Holding her to him, protecting her single-handedly from the universe and its dangers. Treating her with so much care and concern, as if her well-being's become essential to his own.

"I forgive you," she says. "If you'll forgive me as well. I'm so sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"It's all right, I understand." His smile is warmer now. Much warmer.

God, he's perfect. Intelligent and perceptive. Gentle and strong at the same time. Kinder and more considerate than she deserves. Truly her raven.

Everything she wishes for in a man. And never, ever believed she could have.

Tears trickle down her cheeks. A long finger brushes them away with infinite tenderness.

"Hey," he says softly. "No more of that, okay?"

When she doesn't reply he puts one hand under her chin, tilting it up for what's clearly intended to be a friendly kiss.

Which doesn't stay friendly for more than an instant. Soon they're eagerly tasting each other, his hands combing through her hair, her arms winding around his neck. Pressing themselves closer, seeking oneness as if by instinct.

When they finally move apart he stares at her in wonder, like she's a new, fascinating discovery. "Oh, Becky. I never dreamed--"

"Me, neither." She touches his cheek, as surprised by the sudden desire as he is.

Her mom would've considered it a common enough reaction after great emotional stress. Especially between two people already attracted to one another.

There was that one night in Seattle, when he kissed her. They could've become lovers then, so easily. But being good friends instead turned out to be smarter in the long run, for both their sakes.

She's never felt this intense a connection before with her previous boyfriends. Jordan, Tomás, Dylan- every time the relationship ended had been due to that lack and her consequent reluctance in pursuing further intimacy.

Because she'd been afraid.

Afraid to really give of herself, without that connection. Afraid of losing herself in physical pleasure- much less whatever came after- without feeling she could completely trust in her partner.

Afraid until now, that is.

Could this be what they've been heading towards, the whole time?

Whatever it is, she's ready.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Please, make love to me."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." She removes their glasses, setting them aside in a safe location. Then reaches for him.

Their mouths meet and open, devouring each other. Clothes quickly disappear, making way for the thrilling sensation of skin on skin.

He sighs as she tentatively nibbles his earlobe, traces his jawline with her tongue. Gasps as she trails her hands down his chest, his entire body quivering with her exploratory caresses. She shivers in turn as his lips brush against the sensitive spots behind her ears, the back of her neck, along the curve of her shoulders, kissing away her remaining tears. All the while both murmur endearments in every language they know. 

As the rapport grants them full awareness they take a certain tenderness and care with their mutual arousal, sensitive to every nuance of each other's reactions. But neither stop their explorations until the need becomes too impatient to put off any longer.

A stab of pain as he fully joins with her. His eyes widen in surprise. "You...you're--"

She clings to him with fierceness. "Please, my raven. Please. I need you. So much."

"Oh, hummingbird." Already he's beginning to move. A slow, steady rhythm as old as time, as enduring as love.

She expected pain, brief as it was. But not that he's curbing his own urgent desire, waiting on her pleasure (and oh, what incredible pleasure!) before taking his.

"My love, my life," he breathes against her skin as he increases the pace, movements becoming more and more erratic.

"My heart, my soul," she gasps, caught up with him in a second culmination.

Unity for a brief yet timeless moment, in mind, body and spirit. Perfection.

A sense of delicious heavy warmth as he collapses on her. Sharing one last sweet, lingering kiss before shifting away, then pulling her close to nestle into his arms.

They curl together in their warm nest, spent and replete, giving each other light, lazy caresses. Feeling no urgent need to do anything other than savor the experience they just shared.

The rain falls calm and quiet now like benedictions from the heavens, the tempest finally spent.

****************

When it seems possible the fire might die altogether they build it up again and move to his bed, settling in amid soft cotton and down. Dreamily content to bask in each other's company.

"Becky?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

"You didn't ask. Why? Is it that important?"

"I don't think I'd have loved you if I'd known. Afraid you'd think I was taking advantage of your vulnerability or something."

"All the more reason not to tell you," she points out. Rests her head on his shoulder, playfully entwining their free hands together. "But I'm glad it was you. It was...a lot nicer than I've been led to believe first times usually are."

"A compliment?" Amusement clearly in his voice.

"Mmm-hmm. Makes me glad I waited, you know? This is sweet beyond my wildest dreams."

"For me, too," he admits, lightly touching her cheek, drawing her in for a tender kiss that leads to more.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" as he gently nuzzles her ear.

"Why did you follow me?"

He pulls back, blinking. "I had to. We're friends, aren't we? Ever since Seattle, those emails we shared- you don't know how much I enjoyed corresponding with you. And because--"

"Because what?"

He lowers his eyes, bashful even after the intimacy they just shared. Adorable. "I needed to apologize. I couldn't bear to lose you like that, not when we've just begun. You're very special to me, Becky. I care about you, a lot."

This time it's her turn to pull back. "You do? Why?"

He smiles sadly, brushes her hair away from her face. "You still don't get it, do you? We compliment each other so well, I've never known anyone so compatible. You're brave, beautiful, brilliant, caring, thoughtful, humorous, perceptive--"

"But I'm not. There's nothing special about me. I'm easily overlooked, I'm ordinary, I'm not anything like Sam or Janet--"

A gentle finger silences her, tracing along her lips. "Hey, stop it. No more of this. Don't make comparisons only to put yourself down. That's not worthy of the woman I love. You're better than that, you know you are."

A thousand protests swirl in her head, only to be swept away by a single, mind-blowing fact. "...You love me?"

"Yeah, I do."

The quiet sincerity in his voice brings tears to her eyes. "Oh, raven. I love you too."

"My hummingbird." His hands and lips explore her body, whispering words of love against her skin. She answers breathlessly with words of her own as together they discover those secret, intimate delights which send tremors of wildfire through their bodies.

His pleasure becomes hers and vice versa, with no thought where it begins or ends. Communicating with each other now in their own language of love, one that transcends all other forms.

Hot desire, exquisite tension, inevitable tempest. Then sweet, healing sleep, complete in each other's arms.

****************

Sunlight slants through the window, the world scrubbed fresh and clean after the storm. Strange how things can change seemingly overnight.

Becky yawns, stretches and sits up in bed- in his bed- contemplating this new luxury of living, the languor and warm happiness coursing through her. Last night was her introduction to a whole new realm of sensation, both physical and mental. While the intense experience of the Memorial had rendered her vulnerable as never before today she feels like a new woman, her soul restored and replenished. And she owes it all to the man now standing in the doorway, wearing only flannel pajama bottoms and blue bathrobe draped over bare, broad shoulders.

He beams at her. "Good morning."

"Morning. Any chance there's some of that excellent coffee left over from last night?"

"Right here," nodding at the tray in his hands, two mugs and plates of buttered toast with homemade jam, a fav swap from Harriman. "Thought you might care for breakfast in bed."

"Sounds perfect."

Daniel claims a kiss in exchange for a hot steaming cup and sits close beside her, their arms gently brushing together while they savor every drop of an increasingly precious beverage.

"Are you going to the lab after this?" she finally asks.

"Nope. Hammond's ordered everyone to take today and tomorrow off. Only a skeleton crew will be keeping watch over the Gate."

"Smart of him, it'll give everyone a chance to process. Though now I'm not sure what to do with all this free time."

"Oh, I might have a few ideas," waggling his eyebrows. "For once I don't feel guilty about staying away."

His leering tone brings a flush to her cheeks. Her empty cup clinks awkwardly against his on the tray.

"Coffee okay?"

"It's fine. Only--" biting her lip and studying a worn section of the comforter, reluctant to meet his eyes.

"Only what?" Long fingers caress her cheek, tilting her chin up to face him. "Becky, tell me. I have no regrets about last night if that's what you're afraid of."

"I don't either," she says quickly. "Last night was amazing. I...I was just wondering..." She swallows. "Daniel, are we becoming lovers?"

He blinks at her in surprise. "I hope so. I mean, if that's what you want. Don't you?"

"I do. That is," tentatively taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together, "if you do too?"

A smile wreaths his face of such warmth and tenderness it makes her heart skip a beat. "Believe me, hummingbird. More than anything else."

"Oh, raven," winding her arms around his neck, the robe slipping off his shoulders as their lips meet.

****************

Becky wakes, blinking in the dim lavender light illuminating the room. Taking in her surroundings with a faint frown.

She's fairly sure this isn't her bedroom. So how did she wind up here?

A soft grumble from the man beside her and she remembers with a smile.

The concert, a leisurely stroll in the night, coffee and intimate conversation at his place. And afterwards...

Oh yes, afterwards.

With a contented sigh she turns over and studies her lover's relaxed, supine form, head turned in her direction, the sheet barely covering his modesty. One arm draped over his chest, the other stretched out towards her, protectively.

Lean and muscular in all the right places, the result of training and mission experience. Smooth skin with almost no chest hair, eminently kissable. Long, sensitive- and quite accomplished- fingers. Short brown hair with unexpected blond highlights, soft between her fingers. Slightly almond-shaped eyes closed under finely drawn, arching eyebrows, long lashes fanning across his cheeks. A gentle, contented smile on the sensual lips.

Beautiful, even without the glasses. In so many delightful ways.

Moreover, he makes her believe she's beautiful, too.

It amazes Becky all over again how they became lovers during that fateful afternoon following the Memorial, little more than a month ago. Ever since it's only gotten better.

For a couple of shy geeks they're having quite the tempestuous, passionate affair. With a delicious shiver she recalls the intense pleasure her beloved skillfully evokes within her every time they make love. She trusts in him completely, as he does her.

He's made up for his earlier betrayal many times over, to her complete satisfaction. Despite what Jack claims he's very good at apologies.

She's never really thought of herself as sensuous, or even overly feminine. But Daniel makes her feel that way, aware of her body like she's never been before. Which certainly never happened with any past boyfriends.

Then again she'd never felt this deep a connection with anyone else, either. Not even the familial bond she shares with her uncles.

Words can never express how much she adores her clever, talented, romantic, downright sexy archaeologist. Sweet and gentle, thoughtful and generous, even at the height of his passion. With him she feels cherished, coddled, cared for. Loved for everything she is.

The same way she feels about him, more and more every day.

At first she thought it would be awkward, to be colleagues as well as lovers. But their physical intimacy has only deepened and intensified their rapport, professionally as well as personally. Sharpening their anticipation of each other's needs to an even finer degree.

With an impish smile Becky trails her hands ever so lightly over his chest, curving around the pecs and circling the oh-so-sensitive nipples. Wondering if he'd wake for a repeat performance.

As she bends to kiss the skin one eye cracks open. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah. No nightmares. None at all."

"Good. Me neither. Told you we'd work it out together." He takes her hand in his, kissing the palm, sending a thrill throughout her body. "Today's a restday. No objections to sleeping in, I trust?"

"Not one." She pauses. "Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks- for everything."

"My pleasure. Yours too, I hope." He reaches out and pulls her close, a warm puff of breath against her neck as he whispers soft words.

"What was that?"

"Ancient Egyptian, mr i Tn."

Her heart swells at the endearment. "And Philo se to you, too."

"Ancient Greek. Nice."

"Been learning." She trails her fingers over his cheek. "Maybe we should investigate just how many languages we can use to say I love you to one another."

"Maybe we should." He yawns. "Know something, hummingbird? I'd be happy if we could stay like this forever."

"Me too, raven." They share a sleepy, satisfied kiss before he closes his eyes.

Snuggled against her lover in perfect happiness, Becky quickly follows suit.

Let the future bring its own tempests. There's nothing they can't handle in their new home, so long as she and Daniel are together.

Chapter Text

--Year 2 of Settlement, Gateway, New Earth--

MacGyver's trapped.

Completely unable to move an inch with the weight pushing down on his chest. His arms are free but that's about it. The pressure's almost, but not quite, suffocating.

Which means he has to figure a way to remove the weight soon. Won't be easy, considering how much resistance he'll be facing if he isn't careful.

He opens his eyes, takes stock of the situation.

Janet's sprawled on top of him, head turned to the side, her hair all up in his face. He brushes it away with a smile.

He'd love to stay as her body pillow but he has to get out of here. Starts scooting back against the headboard, slowly levering himself up. Maybe he can shift her just enough off of him before she wakes so he can escape--

She stirs, murmurs something unintelligible. He holds his breath. She finds his hand and squeezes it, he squeezes back.

As she slowly opens her eyes he's lost in a deeper and more compelling brown than even his own. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," her voice muzzy with sleep. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Yeah. Got a mission this morning."

She squints at the clock, groans. "At this hour? Way too early. Must've been Jack's idea."

"Yep. The early bird catches the worm and all that. Only I'd rather stay here with you." He reaches out to play with a strand of auburn hair before tucking it behind her ear, lightly fingering the delicate lobe. Stroking along her cheek, down her neck and chest.

She sighs, her eyes closing in pleasure. "God Mac, you're perfection." He grins, almost blushing, but continues his caresses.

Janet's the one who's perfect. Already Mac can't imagine not having her in his life- brilliant, beautiful, warm and so very passionate. The twinkle in her eyes every time she sees him. Her wry smiles, cheerful laughter, cheeky sense of humor. The thrilling sensation of her body against his as they make love. He's never felt so at ease with anyone else outside of family.

Under the Mountain they spent what free time they could spare together, swapping stories of adoptive parenthood. Soon he fell helplessly for this petite, vivacious woman. But it wasn't until he was en route to New Earth with Jack and Becky courtesy of the Asgard that there was time to think about what he could let himself have if he took the chance. When she kissed him in the exam room after beaming down it was like coming home for good.

Spending the night and the next two days after the Memorial with her only cemented their relationship further, which pleased Cassie to no end. That his brother and niece also found their respective true loves at the same time was just the icing on the cake. 

Even before the apocalypse Mac's life wasn't what most folk would call normal. And it's taken some pretty strange turns in recent years- from the Big Quake to a secret underground military base to another planet where science-fiction scenarios occur on a daily basis. Still, he has to admit it's changed for the better since he met Janet.  

He wishes they could spend the rest of the day like this, all rested and cozy and thoroughly at peace, and let everything else go hang. Too bad he has to be somewhere soon.

An impish look spreads across Janet's face, as if reading his mind. She begins moving against him in a slow, sensual fashion that sets his heart to pounding. "Are you really sure you have to go, Mac?"

Definitely a lot of resistance, if the stirring in his loins is any indication. "Um yeah, sorry. Rain check for later?"

She grins, leaning forward to capture his lips before pushing herself off and away from him. "Sure. I should get up anyway, make sure Cassie's ready for school."

When he emerges from the bathroom she's already dressing, buttoning up her uniform blouse. He swallows again, his gaze lingering on her gorgeous curves.

Janet catches him looking, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "Something on your mind, handsome?"

"Just admiring the best-looking doctor on New Earth." Offering her his most disarming grin.

She beams at him, standing on tiptoe to meet him halfway for a tender kiss. "Flatterer. Have a good day at work. See you tonight."

"You, too. Looking forward to it."

****************

Mac heads for a partitioned area in the main hangar serving as a ready room of sorts, to wait for the rest of the team. Today's mission doesn't call for Gate travel but a contingent from Alpha Base is arriving soon, accompanying them to the mysterious Ancient city located in the eastern mountain range.

Jack and Sam are laughing as Mac enters. Both seem more at ease these days, ever since their relationship's been officially sanctioned by Hammond. Comfortable in their own skins and nuts about each other, yet just as focused on doing their jobs as ever. To the surprise of many relaxing the fraternization regs and doing away with DADT altogether has done wonders for morale in the NEDF, and the SGC in particular.

Sam notices him and grins. "Hey, Mac."

"Hey yourself. Got the drone with you?"

She points to a metal case by her feet. "Yep. Version 2.0 is ready to go, thanks to your suggestions."

"Terrific. Can't wait to give it a field test once we get to the city." He catches the smirk Jack throws in his direction. "And good morning to you, too. What's on your mind?"

The smirk widens into a grin. "Just thought we'd have to pry you away from Janet, considering how much time you're spending with her lately."

Mac snorts. "Could say the same about you two. How's the klah?"

Jack contemplates the contents of his mug, emblazoned with the SGC logo. "Not bad. Getting better all the time. This batch tastes as good as it smells, for a change."

"Great." He heads for the beverage urn set up at the other end of the room, dispenses a cup. The pleasing aroma of coffee and chocolate with a hint of cinnamon drifts to his nostrils. It was Becky's suggestion to name it after a beverage from one of her favorite literary sci-fi series, but surely they can come up with a more appealing name.

He takes a speculative sip, adds a little crystallized sweetener derived from a native tuber. It takes a lot to provision both base and settlement, so once Corrigan started rationing supplies the Chemistry and Botany departments really stepped up their game, finding local equivalents to many things taken for granted back on Old Earth- sugar and soap and even shampoo. Of late they've been toiling pretty hard to augment the hospital's dwindling stock of medicines after the severe illnesses caused by this year's brutal winter, like herbalists and apothecaries of the past but wielding modern scientific knowledge and techniques rather than superstition and guesswork.

Everything old is new again, as Janet wryly observed. 

In fact all kinds of traditional crafts have undergone a similar revival. The barter-and-fav economy has really taken off, those without sufficient skill in one area trading other talents with more proficient experts. Instead of keeping themselves apart base personnel are full participants in settlement life as woodworkers and potters, weavers and menders, hunters and gatherers. General Hammond has even been seen helping his granddaughters in their community garden plot, and Jack is on a quest for the perfect bottle of beer.

Teal'c enters, serene as always. "Good morning, O'Neill, Major Carter, MacGyver."

Jack raises his cup in greeting. "Morning, T. You seeing anyone lately?"

Also as always he takes Jack's non sequitur literally. "Indeed I am not. Despite living on different worlds my mate Drey'auc and I enjoy a most cordial and satisfying relationship, much like you and Major Carter, or Becky Grahme and Daniel Jackson. I have no need to seek other companionship."

"Where are those two lovebirds, by the way?" Jack wonders. "They're gonna be late for the meet-up if they don't get a move on. Hey Mac, go and see what's keeping 'em, why don't ya?"

Mac shoots him an irritated glare- his brother would have to ask just after he got settled in- but complies.

****************

He finds Becky and Daniel in the lab, suited up and ready to go. Probably needed to do some last-minute research before the briefing.

They're standing close together, talking quietly. Lost in their own little world.

He deliberately pauses in the doorway, unwilling to intrude on their private moment. Feeling a little guilty for eavesdropping all the same.

"...So what do you say? I'm willing to take a chance if you are."

"I don't know. It's a big step. I mean, we've only been together a couple years."

"We've known each other longer than that, if you count Seattle and our correspondence. Which I do. This isn't just some casual relationship, not for me at least." Daniel takes Becky's hand in his, entwining their fingers. Leans in closer, as for a kiss.

She backs away to fiddle with a pile of papers, a flush tinting her cheeks. "It isn't casual for me either, you know that. It's just, um--"

"Just what?"

She swallows, her eyes dropping to the floor. "Nothing. I...I'll think about it, okay?"

"Okay. I really hope you'll say yes." He reaches out, touching her cheek with naked longing in his gaze, even as she keeps hers downcast. "Ti amo, colibrì," he adds softly.

"Ti amo anch'io, corvo," she replies just as quietly.

Mac really doesn't want to interrupt at a time like this. But there's no choice. He clears his throat.

Becky looks over at him, grateful for the distraction.  "Hey, Unc. Something we can help you with?"

"Jack sent me to fetch you guys. Almost time for the others from Alpha to get here."

A klaxon begins shrieking throughout the compound, followed by the PA system crackling to life. "Scheduled offworld activation from Alpha Base. Repeat, arrival from Alpha Base."

"We'd better go," Daniel says, gathering the last of his notes. "Jack doesn't like to be kept waiting." 

Becky quickly scoots ahead of them without saying a word.

"What's with her?" Mac asks Daniel.

He shrugs. "Honestly, I have no idea."

****************

The wormhole's already active when they arrive, blue-white shimmer rippling as the blunt angular nose of a roughly cylindrical-shaped vessel emerges, resembling a tree log to Becky's eyes.

She grins. "It's a shuttlecraft, like the ones on Star Trek."

"Actually a compact spaceship," Sam corrects her, "designed for missions when it's too far to walk or take one of the ATVs. We're also building much larger ones with help from the Asgard. Proper battleships and fighters."

"Which is the reason you and MacGyver spent last month at Alpha Base, to consult with the scientists," Teal'c remarks.

"Exactly. This is also their shakedown mission. Took a while to work out all the technical kinks, though. McKay even doubted they'd be ready in time."

Jack snorts. "Loudly and often, I bet."

"The understatement of the decade," Mac ruefully agrees. "The guy doesn't know when to shut up."

Once away from the event horizon the ship executes a careful curve to the left, ruffling hair and sending loose papers flying but otherwise causing no damage. It slowly glides through the massive hangar doors and settles neatly on the landing field, formerly the meadow where the Gate had been located. A second one follows close behind before the wormhole shuts off to touch down alongside with equal care and precision.

Becky's impressed. Whoever's piloting both must be really good.

"Looks like the rest of our party's here," Jack says. "Let's go and say hi, campers."

A ramp in the rear of one ship lowers and the science contingent steps down, Rodney McKay, Radek Zelenka and Carson Beckett barely paying any attention for all their bickering. From the second Evan Lorne and Aiden Ford emerge, much more composed. Becky's familiar with all of them- Carson who operated on her after the landslide, Evan who danced with her under the Mountain, and the rest during last year's visit to Alpha with Daniel.

Even McKay with whom her big brother-in-spirit has, unexpectedly and inexplicably, become involved since Hammond's repeal of DADT. Apocalypses make for strange bedfellows, as the saying goes around the settlement. Not that she disapproves of John's romantic preferences per se, it's just- well- Rodney McKay.

"Už dost!" Radek finally snaps. "I have had it up to here with you," raising his hand well above his head.

"Radek's right, Rodney. Bloody hell, will ye please stop complaining for once?" Carson chides. "We're on a mission, for heaven's sake. Behave yourself or you'll be answering to Colonel Caldwell when we get back."

McKay glares at them. "Whatever. Do we have time for a bite to eat? I'm starving."

"Always hungry, you are. Odpadky střeva," Radek adds under his breath. Daniel catches it, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

"What did he say?" Becky asks him. He whispers in her ear and she unsuccessfully suppresses a snort of her own.

Rodney's eyes narrow at her suspiciously. "What's so funny, pipsqueak? And what are you doing on this mission, anyway?"

"Pipsqueak? Seriously? Surely a genius like you can come up with a better insult than that."

She's more amused than insulted, actually, though it wouldn't do to tell him so. He reminds her of feisty Zoe Ryan in a way- never satisfied, always spoiling for a fight. Probably a defense mechanism from being bullied as a kid. Funny how much she absorbed of her mom's stealth lessons in psychology growing up.

John emerges from the shuttlecraft during their byplay, grinning. "Hey little sis. Is he giving you a hard time?"

"Nothing I can't handle, big brother. Your boyfriend's just being his usual charming and personable self."

John laughs and McKay bristles. "Oh, you would side with her."

"Relax, buddy," clapping him on the shoulder. "She has as much right to be on this mission as any of us. Right, Dr. Jackson?"

"She knows Ancient better than anyone else here, including me," Daniel asserts. Her cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, even as she avoids the pleading look in his eyes.

"There, see? Now behave yourself." He and Lorne offer salutes to Hammond and Jack. "General, Colonel. Here they are, as promised."

"So we see," Jack says dryly. "Nice piece of flying there, Majors."

"Thank you, sir. They're beauties, aren't they? I'm calling 'em Puddlejumpers."

McKay scowls. "Puddlejumper, indeed. How many times do I have to tell you they're nothing like piddling commuter aircraft? They're Gateships. Ships that go through a Gate. The name couldn't be any more obvious."

John shrugs. "Same difference. Anyway General, they're ready to go. Should carry all of us to the city and back with ease."

"Excellent," Hammond says. "Let's continue this in the briefing room. I believe Drs. Jackson and Grahme are ready to begin their presentation."

Daniel comes alongside Becky as everyone obediently falls in step behind the General. "Nervous?"

"Maybe a little," she reluctantly admits. "I'm glad you're doing this with me. I'm nowhere near ready to go solo yet."

A gentle hand rests on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Um, about what I said earlier--"

She flinches from his touch. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Maybe later, okay?"

"Okay."

She focuses solely on her notes, unwilling to meet the hurt and worry in his eyes.

Better to deal with the task at hand than explain the reason for her hesitation, articulating her unspoken fears.

****************

Mac listens with interest as Becky and Daniel make their joint case for the mission, laying out theories and speculations backed up by translations displayed on the monitor. He's still fond of archaeology and the topic's frankly fascinating.

Good thing Jack's letting him come along, and not only for him and Sam to do field tests of the improved sensor drone. He wouldn't want to miss this for the world.

Besides it's kind of a hoot, watching their complimentary talents come into play like this. Whenever Daniel's inclined to stray from the point with side anecdotes and obscure citations Becky keeps everything on course. He does the same for her in turn when she gets bogged down with details.

Jack has no problem paying attention for once, even seems to be getting a kick out of it. "So this isn't just one of their wacky little outposts?"

"Not at all," Becky confirms. "It's an entire city, though why it's located in the mountains instead of the middle of the valley remains a mystery."

"It's not just some other alien or human civilization we're talking about either, Jack," Daniel chimes in. "This is a city of the Ancients, the ones who created the Stargate network. It's a huge discovery."

"They certainly left behind quite the legacy when they disappeared," Sam concurs. "All that potential knowledge and technology. It outweighs anything else we've come across since first going through the Gate. Hopefully we can put it to good use."

Hammond nods his agreement. "Ladies and gentlemen, I don't have to remind you we need every advantage we can get over the Goa'uld, particularly with Anubis gaining power and influence over the other System Lords. If you can find anything in the city that might increase our offensive or defensive capabilities I will count this mission a success. Thank you for an informative presentation, doctors. Good luck, all of you. Dismissed."

Jack starts whistling a tune under his breath. Mac realizes it's In the Hall of the Mountain King by Edward Grieg. Appropriate but odd all the same.

Who knew his own twin would gain an appreciation for classical music, of all things?

Talk about a mystery for the ages.

****************

The Puddlejumpers head east. Soaring over fields belonging to the experimental farms, a pretty patchwork of imported Old Earth plants interspersed with local versions being tested for human consumption. Soon enough giving way first to meadows, then dense forests the closer they get to the foothills.

Sheppard's once again as pilot, Jack leaning back in the copilot's chair to enjoy the ride. Mac sits behind with Sam in secondary passenger seats while Becky and Daniel perch side-by-side on fold-out jumpseats further back. Each craft has room for eight but today there's only the six of them, Lorne flying the other one with the rest.

From the corner of his eye Mac notices Becky handing Daniel a bottle of water. He accepts it with a smile, letting his fingers trail over the back of her hand. He asks her something Mac can't make out over the roar of the engine and she quickly shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Becky's behavior is puzzling. They're usually pretty tight, even though they wisely avoid public displays of affection during working hours, much less on a mission.

Mac's honestly glad she found someone, yet he can't help feeling a bit left out all the same. They had such a close bond while she was growing up but now it seems she prefers Jackson's company over his. Not that he begrudges her the chance at a lasting relationship either, considering how much time he's spending at Janet and Cassie's these days.

Nevertheless a small, stubborn part of him keeps insisting Becky's still an innocent little girl in pigtails, instead of an enlightened young woman in love.

Maybe he'll always worry about her, even after she marries and has a family of her own. Just part of being a parent, as Janet might say. Or even Allison back in the day.

Whatever's going on between them, Jackson had better mend his fences with Becky soon. He'd really hate to see his niece suffer a broken heart.

****************

"We're coming up on the city, sir," Sheppard announces half an hour later.

"Good. Land us over there in that meadow, at two o'clock," Jack orders. "We can walk from there, assuming it's not booby-trapped on the way. God knows what those wacky Ancients left behind."

Both Jumpers settle and everyone disembarks, stretching and arranging their gear.

A sudden long, drawn-out howling sends a chill down Mac's spine. Jack and others automatically reach for their weapons, equally startled.

"What the hell was that?" Ford's eyes are wide behind the sights of his P90.

"Direwolves, Lieutenant Ford," Teal'c says, hefting his staff. "A most dangerous predator species. There have been incursions into the settlement by their packs, doing considerable harm to the animals and crops raised by the farmers."

Daniel frowns. "According to the latest survey by Zoology there haven't been any around here for the good part of a year. Wonder why they're back."

"Whatever the reason, it can't be good." Becky's left hand twitches toward the serpentine weapon in its holster, the one Jack calls a zat.

Mac's dismayed she has to carry it, even though it has a stun setting. He still refuses to carry a weapon himself but ruefully acknowledges their necessity, especially since they've had to compete with the direwolves for dominance over the past couple years.

"We'll keep an eye open if they show up," Jack says, putting on his sunglasses. "Let's move out, campers."

They walk through the woods for a while. There are more howls yet no visible signs of the direwolves' presence. Nevertheless everyone pays close attention.

Entering the city is easy. Through a massive open archway, down a broad stone avenue flanked by buildings. The elevation's about three thousand feet or so above sea level, according to readings from the sensor drone.

Beautiful. Unreal.

And eerily quiet, save for the occasional call of avians, their footsteps and the soft whirring of the drone hovering ahead of them. Much too quiet for Mac's liking.

Apparently Jack feels the same, filling the silence with his usual levity. "So what've we got here, Carter? Did they hire the same architects and building crew like everywhere else, or what?"

She studies the tablet in her hand. "According to the drone readings the buildings have the same composition as other Ancient sites, sir. Stone laced with naquadah for durability."

"So crude-looking," Becky comments. "Like they've been carved right out of the mountain. And huge! The Ancients weren't ones to build small, were they?"

McKay sniffs. "Yes, yes, thank you for the observation, Miss Obvious."

"That's Dr. Obvious to you," Sheppard gently chides, with an apologetic glance at Becky. Amazing how he can take the scientist's constant abrasiveness in stride.

Interesting relationship she's struck up with him over the past couple years, Mac muses, like brother and sister. She even claims he reminds her of Chris after a fashion. Weird hair, though.

"The Ancients did everything big," Daniel admits. "Durable, too. Their structures tend to last for millions of years, barring disasters. Remember the Repository of Knowledge on P3R-272?"

"As if I could forget," Jack groans. "Not a picnic, let me tell you."

The city's remarkably well-preserved, considering the air of abandonment pervading the place. As if the inhabitants had just decided to walk away from everything in one fell swoop.

"So what exactly happened to these Ancients?" Mac asks Daniel.

"We've barely scratched the surface, really. There's still a lot about their civilization we don't know. According to the records Becky and I have translated so far they fell victim to something too big and deadly to deal with, for all their technological advances. As a result they abandoned practically the whole galaxy. Some left the Milky Way altogether, though to where we have no idea as of yet. Others sought Ascension--"

"--Which is what exactly, people turning into disembodied spirits? More mind than matter?"

"In a manner of speaking. Or perhaps just a transfer to another plane of existence."

"Úžasný. How might that come about?" Zelenka wants to know.

"Remember the first law of thermodynamics? Energy can't be created or destroyed, but it can transition between states," Sam explains. "Apparently the Ancients believed it applied to a person's life force, too. They certainly were further along the evolutionary path than us, to make the transition from matter to energy possible."

Eventually they come upon a single massive tower in the heart of the city. Possessing no obvious entrance, only a high, smooth- and seemingly quite solid- wall.

"Dead end?" Jack quips.

"It would appear so, O'Neill," Teal'c notes. "No other means of access are visible at this time."

A loud howling echoes through the silent city, answered by yips and wails in many directions.

"Man, that sounded awfully close," Ford says with a shiver.

"Yeah." Jack sighs, tilts up the brim of his cap. "We gotta get in that tower, and soon. Daniel, Becky, McKay, you're up. Find us a door, willya?"

"Like he expects us to just wave our hands and say 'Open Sesame', or something," Rodney grumbles.

"Probably not that easy," Daniel agrees. "The Ancients did like their tests."

Becky carefully studies the wall, even pulling out her penlight for more illumination. "There's something unusual about this surface, guys," passing a tentative hand across the material.

McKay all but smacks it away. "Idiot! Do you want the tower to come crashing down on top of us? It could be booby-trapped, for all we know!"

Daniel comes to her side, protectively. "Rodney--"

She holds up a hand. "No, it's okay. I get his concern, even though I don't think it applies here. See, it looks smooth but it isn't. Got a very subtle texture, almost as if..."

"As if what?" Showing less concern as her boyfriend, more shared interest as a colleague.

"...As if they're Ancient letters, though etched small enough so they're not immediately visible. But there's a pattern..." trailing her fingers again along the surface. She frowns in concentration, then nods. "Yeah, that's it. Two phrases, repeating over and over. Anyone got paper and pencil?"

Daniel hands them to her and she places the paper flat against the wall, rubbing with the side of the pencil until the letters are revealed. "Yep," she says with satisfaction. "There they are."

"So what do they say, Beck?" Mac comes up alongside, just as curious as the others.

"Receperint de póli in terra. Dicere, amici, et eiságete. Basically, welcome to the City of Earth. Speak, friends, and enter."

"So if you're a friend just speak the password, and you can enter." McKay scowls. "Great! All we have to do is wait a million years or so and eventually it'll come to us. Unless we turn into dinner for direwolves first."

Ford's brow furrows. "I dunno, Dr. McKay. Something about it sounds awfully familiar to me."

"Yeah, me too," Becky admits. "But what?"

The wheels are already turning in Daniel's head. "Fifty thousand words in the Ancient language that we know of, and since it's similar to Latin we need to multiply by three distinct genders, seven noun cases, five declensions, four verb conjugations, four verb principal parts, six tenses, three persons--"

McKay throws his hands over his head. "That's at least a million and a half possible passwords! We'll never figure it out in time. Do we have an exit strategy?"

"Do we have a what?"

"Oh my god, we're all going to die."

The howls and yips increase in volume, punctuating the rising sense of urgency.

"Damn, they're getting closer." Jack hefts his P90. "Get a move on with crunching that password, guys. We're gonna need to get inside soon."

A direwolf appears at the other end of the street, growling softly. Then another. Advance scouts for the pack, without a doubt.

Beckett and Zelenka quickly huddle next to Mac and the others. Sheppard, Lorne, and Ford take up secondary defensive positions in front of them but behind Jack, Sam and Teal'c.

Mac swallows, starts checking his pockets. Maybe he can come up with something for a diversion, at the very least.

In the meantime Daniel's been scribbling madly on the notepad. Finally removes his glasses, rubs at his brow in frustration. "Damn, this is hard. Too many possibilities."

"Well, since we're dying," McKay says with resignation, "at least it's among friends."

Becky's eyes widen, then she starts to laugh. "Friends. Of course! Rodney, you really are a genius," slapping him lightly on the arm.

He puffs up a bit. "Well, people have said."

Daniel looks at her as if she's gone nuts. "Um, you okay?"

"Never better." She faces the wall, spreads her arms wide. "Amici!"

Nothing happens.

"Dammit. Thought for sure that'd work," she mutters, absently leaning a hand against the wall.

Which lights up, or at least where her palm comes into contact with the stone surface.

She pulls back, quickly. "What the--"

"Becky, do that again," Daniel says, eyes wide. "But this time say the word as well."

"Right." She places her hand on the same spot. "Amici," she whispers. "Oh, please open."

Silver lines appear and spread, slowly outlining a doorway where no crack or seam had been visible before. It divides in two, opening outward. Lights blink on inside, one by one, illuminating a corridor.

"That's my girl." Jack grins, patting her on the shoulder as he takes point. "C'mon, let's get inside before those wolves get any ideas."

"What did you say?" Mac asks Becky as they fall in with the others behind him.

"Amici. Means friends in Ancient."

"How'd you figure that was the password, though?"

She grins. "The advantages of being a bookworm, Unc."

****************

The interior of the tower is airy and light and open. Stark contrast to the rugged appearance of its exterior, even as warm earth tones keep it grounded at the same time.

More lights and instrument panels come to life in rooms and adjoining corridors as they pass by.

"Freaky," Sheppard mutters under his breath.

Mac can only agree. This place gives him the creeps.

"Interesting," Lorne says after a while. "The architecture's like a mix of Frank Lloyd Wright and Art Deco, with touches of abstract motifs. Almost organic in a way."

"You're into art and design, Major?" Mac asks him.

He shrugs. "I like to paint in my spare time."

Eventually they reach a central hall or atrium where Jack calls for a lunch break. Mac easily catches the MRE pouch and water canteen tossed his way and sits, leaning against a nearby wall.

Daniel hunkers down beside him. "Um, hi. Can we talk?"

"Sure."

While they eat he picks at his food and steals the occasional bewildered glance at Becky across the way, chatting with Zelenka and Beckett and studiously avoiding him.

"Something on your mind, Daniel?" Mac prompts him gently.

"You've known Becky a long time, right?"

"All her life." He can't help the dry tone.

"Right. Of course." He looks down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor. "I honestly thought it made sense at the time. I mean, we're both night-owls, and she's at my place more often now than with you and Jack. So I thought, since that's the case why not make it a permanent arrangement?"

Mac's eyebrows rise. "You mean you proposed to her?"

"What? No! Don't get me wrong," Daniel adds quickly, "I love your niece, very much. But we're not ready for marriage. At least I'm not. Thing is--" He sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "I asked her to move in with me. But I guess she got spooked or something, and now she refuses to talk about it. I honestly have no idea what I did wrong. Could you talk to her?"

Mac blanches. He really does not want to get in the middle of this. Especially when it involves his niece. No way.

Such an anxious look in Daniel's eyes behind the glasses, though. And he likes the guy.

Not to mention he's been good for Becky, and she for him.

"Look, I'm flattered you think I still have any sort of influence over her. But you gotta realize she's more than capable of making her own decisions. You've heard the phrase, old soul in a young body?"

"Yeah..."

"That's her. She's always been more mature than others her age, growing up. Independent-minded yet conscientious at the same time, you know?"

Daniel nods. "That's one of the things I noticed about her from the start. And one of the things I like the most about her, too."

"You've probably also realized by now that when she loves, it's with her whole heart and soul."

"Yeah, I have." A fond, almost secretive smile. Probably related to things about their relationship Mac doesn't even want to imagine.

"So you probably just blindsided her a bit. Be patient and give her time, okay? But don't force the issue, that'd spook her even more."

"I won't. Thanks for the advice, Mac."

"No problem."

"You two done chatting yet?" Jack stands up, wipes his hands on his trousers. "Break's over, people. We can't stay holed up in here forever while those direwolves are outside, so let's talk strategy."

****************

Becky's getting bored, waiting for Jack and the others to finish discussing their situation. So much to investigate in this place and they're just sitting around doing nothing.

Daniel keeps glancing in her direction but she can't talk to him right now. Not after what he asked her this morning in the lab.

Might as well do some quick exploring on her own. They'll never notice her gone.

A shadowed alcove in a nearby corner catches her eye. With a backward glance at the others she steps inside, her hand brushing against a panel.

Which lights up, a symbol and line of Ancient text appearing on its surface. Imperium Locus.

Well, why not?

A door closes behind her and she experiences a very odd sensation, as if moving yet not. If this is some kind of elevator it's unlike any she's seen before. What has she gotten herself into?

Seconds later she steps into a roughly hexagon-shaped chamber. The same warm earth tones as downstairs, intricate diagrams interspersed with instrument panels and darkened monitors which begin to glow and display information as she passes by. A throne of sorts resides on a hexagonal dais in the center of the room, futuristic yet rugged in appearance, naquadah merged with carved amber and crystal.

Even as a kid Becky's been hypersensitive to her environment, picking up on underlying emotions and influences. The city sings along her nerves, vibrating faintly like a plucked string, eternal yearning for those who abandoned it. A hushed air of expectancy pervades the whole tower- and this room in particular- as if waiting for something.

Or someone. Which is weird.

She should be scared- or at least cautious- yet for some reason she's not. It's peaceful and quiet here away from everyone else.

Good. Just what she needs, right now.

She dearly loves Daniel. He's the only one with whom she can be fully herself, in all her complexity. And he's equally as comfortable around her. But it hasn't been every hour of every day; they both treat relationships of all flavors seriously, and the constant close proximity might prove to be exhausting, breeding discomfort and discontent.

She could be overthinking everything. She probably is.

But living together's an awfully big step in her eyes- next thing to marriage, for crying out loud. Two years ago they'd agreed to take it one day at a time, neither one ready for a long-term, permanent arrangement. And lately he seems eager to move their relationship to the next level, a rather daunting notion in her eyes.

Might as well sit and have a bit of a think, as her dad used to say. Looks like the perfect place to do it.

Becky steps up onto the dais and sits, short legs dangling like they do on most chairs, the seat surprisingly comfortable. Of their own volition her hands come to rest on soft pads embedded within the armrests. Her fingertips tingle, as if pricked all at once by tiny needles. "Ow!"

~Confirmatus sanguine Alteranus. Imperium sella energopoiiméni.~

Her eyes widen. "Who said that?"

The chair lights up, tilting her backwards.

"What on earth--"

~Nevrikí diepafí dimicent.~

Her consciousness is suddenly yanked out of her body, without so much as a by-your-leave.

Dragged down deep, deep, into the very bowels of the earth--

--suffocating darkness and pressure surrounding her, a heavy, crushing weight--

--buried alive.

Oh god-Oh god-Oh god. Not again-Not again-Not again!

The familiar panic rises, overwhelming her senses--

Be brave. There is nothing to fear. Your body is safe, it's all in your mind. A warm, soothing baritone washes over her, calming her from within and banishing the fear until all that's left is clarity.

Right. She can do this. Time to get a grip.

Along with lessons in staff fighting Teal'c has also taught her a form of kel'no'reem over the past couple years. She steels herself, grounds and centers her thoughts. Stilling her mind into a state of receptiveness.

Hello. I mean you no harm. Can we talk?

Consciousness expands into the rock surrounding her, patterns and particles of minerals in varying compositions. The orderly matrices of raw control crystals. The heated flow of lava running like veins through the earth. Plasma boiling deep within, keeping the molten iron core of the planet spinning on its steady progress through the solar system.

Perspective suddenly shifts back into herself. Light blooms in her mind, a shimmering multicolored glow of amber and russet and clear pale gold.

~ Ave, Domina. Huy-Brasealis est. Gratam te póli sas.~

...Come again?

An odd feeling, like something rummaging around in her memories, prying into all manner of dusty corners.

~My pardon, Domina. Perhaps you will understand better this way.~ The voice more masculine and less mechanical than before, rich and warm. Eerily similar to her father's. ~I am Huy-Brasealis. Welcome to your city.~

Huy-Braesealis? As in--

~Yes, as in a passage you once translated: Huy-Braesealis, astria sto pro oculo prostasía. Quinque pénte puncta energopoiísete.~

Huy-Braesealis. Hy-Brasil. Incredible.

~I apologize for the intrusion into your memories. Your command of Alteran is impressive, but I find it easier to communicate with you in your own language.~

Alteran?

~ Also known as Anquietas, or in your language the Ancients. You are of their bloodline, as are your uncles and two other individuals I sense.~

Images of Carson and John flash in her mind. Huh. Who knew they all had something in common?

~I was programmed to awake from hibernation when those with the correct bloodline activate the door and pass through. I have been waiting a very long time for you, Domina.~

How long?

~Ten thousand years.~

...Wow. That's a long time.

~Indeed. But now that you have awakened me, we can begin. How may I be of assistance?~

She can't even begin to wrap her head around this. Ten thousand years!

All that time waiting. And for her, apparently.

Bad enough she once bore Witness to the end of the world. Now a whole Ancient city's talking in her head, calling her its Lady. Just when she thought the universe couldn't get any more nuts.

But she's adaptable, she can handle this. Maybe even put it to good use for the sake of the group, and the settlement in general.

All right. First tell me how to handle the direwolves outside, then we'll figure where to go from there.

~As you wish, Domina.~

****************

There's something definitely off about this place, John decides. And not only because it's an alien city millions of years old where the lights turn on if he takes even one step inside a room.

No, it's this itchy creeping feeling he's got in the back of his head. As if something wants his attention, really bad.

Freaky, without a doubt.

Finally the itch gets to be too much. On impulse he drifts away from the group towards a shadowed alcove that seems to be calling him in. Stumbling a bit on the threshold, his hand rests against a panel which lights up. Before he can step away a door automatically closes behind him and he feels an odd sensation of movement.

Not your typical elevator, that's for sure.

The door opens onto a room roughly hexagon-shaped, warm earth tones as downstairs. Consoles and monitors show activity here and there. A throne squats on a dais in the center of the room, its occupant illuminated in blue light.

Which is Becky, of all people. Leaning back with eyes closed, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest the only indication she's alive.

He can't keep his eyes off her. Ever since rescuing her from the clutches of Lieutenant Albert Norris (still confined to Gamma Base for the foreseeable future) he's come to see her as the little sister he never had. Their conversations before and after Zero Hour only reinforced that sense of connection. 

The radio chirps. "O'Neill to Sheppard."

"Sheppard here. What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Have you seen my niece? We can't raise her on the radio."

God. What's he gonna say? This place is nuts.

"I'm looking at her right now, sir."

"So what's she doing? Is she okay? C'mon Major, I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions."

"She's fine. She's just...reclining."

"...Reclining?" He can just imagine O'Neill's puzzled expression.

"Yes, sir."

"Is there any way you can stop her from...reclining, Major?"

"All due respect sir, I wouldn't. She's, um, a bit preoccupied right now."

"Preoccupied?"

"Uh-huh."

An exasperated sigh. "Sheppard, where the hell are you and how do we get there?"

"Some kind of control room, looks like. With a throne in the center."

"A throne. In which my niece is reclining."

"Yes, sir. Are you still in the atrium?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"In the northwest corner there's an alcove, some kind of transporter with direct access to here. She must've come across it first."

"...Okay, we see it now. Sheesh, it looks cramped. Better make two trips, guys...Hey, that panel just lit up when I touched it. That happen to you, Sheppard?"

"Yes, sir. Not sure why."

"Me, neither. What's it say, Danny? Control room? Must be the place. We'll be there directly, Major. Keep an eye on her in the meantime, willya?"

"Copy that, sir." John sighs and slouches against one wall, crossing his arms.

The whole time Becky's remained unconscious in that damned chair. He hopes she's okay, whatever's going on in her head.

Because he's so not looking forward to facing two extremely protective uncles- not to mention her boyfriend- if anything happens to her.

Why, he might even join Norris in exile. And that won't do at all.

****************

There are some days Mac's certain he's back in Los Angeles having the strangest lucid dream ever, the result of watching too many sci-fi movies with Becky.

This is one of them.

He keeps wanting to pinch himself, seeing her reclining in that weird lit-up alien chair. Sam's connecting it to her laptop, McKay's already hunched over a console, Daniel's writing in his notebook and Beckett's checking her vitals.

Jack smirks at him. "Nope, you're not dreaming."

"I read the reports, but...I mean, does this sort of thing happen often to you guys?"

"Yeah. Though usually it's Daniel who touches something and gets us into trouble." Who shoots him a mild glare from where he's sketching and making notes of the control room.

Beckett backs away, tucking a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff into his medical kit. "Your niece is fine, Colonel. Heartbeat steady, blood pressure stable, pupils responding normally. Nothing wrong as far as I can tell. Just unconscious."

"Any way you can bring her around so she can get off that thing?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," McKay snaps over his shoulder. "There's no way of knowing yet how deeply connected she is to the city. Only an idiot would yank her out of the chair right away, if they want to see her fall into a vegetative state or worse."

Mac blinks. "Connected? You mean this place is talking to her?"

"The chair is really an advanced neural interface," Sam explains, typing on her laptop. "There's a distinct feedback channel going on between her and the city. So yes, it seems they are talking to each other."

Jack sighs. "So the upshot is we have to wait until the conversation's over and she wakes up. Right, Carter?"

"That's basically it, sir."

"Great. Better stand down for a while, campers. She does like sleeping in."

Mac grimaces. Patience has never been his strong suit. He wants to wake her right now, get her as far away as possible from this creepy place though it might make matters worse in the long run.

Most of all he hates feeling so darn useless.

A large, dark-skinned hand rests on his shoulder. "Do not fear, MacGyver. Your che'sula is strong for a scholar, and very brave. All will be well."

"Thanks, Teal'c. I appreciate it." Sometimes he wonders if anything's ever rattled the Jaffa. He has a feeling he wouldn't want to be around the guy if it does.

"Hey--" McKay frowns at the console display. "Something's changed."

"It has," Sam agrees. "There's less activity and the feedback channel's disappeared."

"That's a good thing, right?" Jack wonders out loud.

The lights on the chair go out as it raises Becky to a sitting position. Everyone holds back, trading worried glances, unsure what will happen next.

Finally Jackson comes forward, gently touching her arm. "Becky?"

Her eyes slowly open, blink several times in succession, finally focusing on him. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, it's me. You're safe now. I've got you." He enfolds her in his arms, pulling her away from the chair and down onto the floor.

She collapses against him with a low cry, holding him tight. He murmurs soft words of love, his hands caressing her, soothing away her fears. Giving her a reason to reestablish her connection with him and everyone else present.

Mac's filled with a sudden fierce longing to shove him aside, hold her in his own arms. Protect her as he's always done.

As if reading his mind Daniel shakes his head and gives him a pointed look that says I know you'd rather be in my place but relax, I've got this.

He nods reluctant agreement, feeling a little pain in his heart as his princess grows up and away from him, just that much more.

Eventually she pulls away, staring wide-eyed first at Daniel, then everyone else. "What...What happened? What am I doing here?"

"Easy, lass," Carson says, kneeling next to her. "Just want to take a quick look at ye. Follow my finger with your eyes...that's it." He does a few more basic neurological tests. "Nothing appears wrong with her," he says to the room at large, "though Janet should do a couple scans later to be on the safe side."

A collective sigh of relief. Jack wipes at something in his eyes. Mac's have gone a bit misty as well, he has to admit.

She struggles to stand, waving away offers of help. Staggers a bit. "Whoa..."

Daniel quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm here."

Her brow furrows, as if trying to remember something. "Huy... Huy..."

"What was that?"

"Huy-Brasealis," she whispers.

He frowns slightly, uncomprehending. Then his eyes widen. "You're sure?"

She nods. "That's what it calls itself. The city's sentient, or at least the AI running it is."

"An artificial intelligence?" Rodney stares at her in frank incredulity. "Active after all this time?"

"No. Hibernating mostly, until we came along. Our presence woke it up again- mine, and you guys."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, us guys?"

"You, Jack. John and Carson, too. It...he...has been waiting for us. For a very long time."

A stunned silence follows. Mac's disturbed as much by her words as the matter-of-fact way she says them. An AI tried to kill him once back on Old Earth, and here he is facing another, in an Ancient city light-years away from his lost homeworld.

Definitely one of those days.

"Did he say why?" Jack finally ventures.

"Not really."

 Mac trades uneasy looks with Jack and Sheppard but Beckett's eyes are alight with wonder. "Aha! I was right!"

"Your ATA gene theory?" Radek asks.

"Aye. On Alpha Base I was called in to mediate a dispute between two other scientists. Dr. Kavanaugh accused Dr. Kusanagi of sabotage because the Ancient device she was examining ceased to function when he grabbed it from her--"

"His typical fumble-fingered approach," McKay interjects.

Carson rolls his eyes. "Anyway, she was cleared of wrongdoing but the incident made me curious how Ancient artifacts react to some and not others. It took many hours of investigation and DNA analysis--"

"For god's sake skip the voodoo and get to the point! We haven't got all day," Rodney grumbles. John claps a warning hand on his shoulder and waves at Carson to resume. 

"As I was about to say, I soon realized the technology requires contact with someone carrying a specific gene marker to be activated. Which is most likely why you were the only one who could access the Repository of Knowledge, Colonel."

"Oh, just peachy," Jack sighs.

"Sir, considering how strongly Ancient devices respond to you and Becky a genetic key does seem the most likely explanation," Sam muses. "Major Sheppard, you didn't find this room on a whim, did you?"

"No. Felt more like I was drawn here."

"I might've been too, now I think about it," Becky pipes up. "I had the oddest impression all this was waiting for me."

"To be honest the whole place has been creeping me out ever since we stepped inside," Mac has to admit.

"You and me both," Jack agrees.

"Quite fascinating," Beckett says happily. "Colonel, I already have your DNA on file along with mine but may I take a few samples from the rest of you after we return to base as well? I promise I won't do anything more than check for that marker."

Mac looks at Becky and Sheppard, who both shrug their consent. "Sure, doc. Why not? Glad to help."

"Brilliant."

Jack grumbles under his breath about big needles.

Mac smirks. "Still afraid, huh?"

"Don't you start." He clears his throat, adjusts his cap. "I think we've done enough for now, folks. Time to head back home. You good to walk, Beck?"

Her first few steps are faltering, but the rest are more steady. "Yeah, I think I can manage."

"Terrific. Let's blow this pop stand."

****************

The growling is audible even from just inside the door.

"Wonderful," McKay grumbles. "Probably the whole pack's out there by now."

Jackson reluctantly hefts his own P90, moves to join his team. Jack waves him away. "Stay with the others. We got this."

"Jack..."

"Daniel." His gaze flicks over to Becky, softens. "Keep an eye on my niece, okay? Right now she needs you more than we do."

"But--" he begins, then sighs. "Okay."

"Atta boy. Remember the plan, people. Push them back enough for us to get through, but fire only if they attack. Don't want things to escalate any more than they have to. Got it?" Murmurs of assent. "All right, move out."

Jack, Sam and Teal'c take point. Mac keeps to the middle with Becky, Daniel and the other scientists. Sheppard, Lorne, and Ford fall back to the rear, prepared to form their own protective circle around the civilians if necessary.

The door swings outwards. A sizeable pack of direwolves- somewhere between ten and twenty at first guess- waiting as expected, staring at them with an intensity that puts everyone on edge.

Mac swallows, wishing he could find something to grab as a weapon. The Ancients left the place remarkably tidy, all things considered. Which doesn't help in the slightest.

"Good doggies. Nice doggies." Jack takes one cautious step forward, then another. "We won't bite if you won't, okay?"

The pack backs up with every step then pauses as their alpha comes forward. Once away from the tower he barks a command and some fall behind, surrounding the team.

"We should expect their attack at any time, O'Neill," Teal'c states.

"I hear you, T. But I'm banking they won't unless provoked."

"Unless their alpha gets bored and decides to have us for dinner." McKay's stomach grumbles and the direwolves perk up at the sound. "Whoops."

"For god's sake don't encourage them, Rodney," Carson mutters. "They might be hungry."

"Stow it, you two," Jack warns, his gaze steady on the alpha.

The pack follows their slow, steady progress down the avenue, keeping pace with them- and encircled- the entire time.

"What are they waiting for?" Daniel wonders.

"Their alpha to make the first move, more than likely," Mac replies.

McKay scoffs. "And what makes you an expert?"

"I studied wolf pack behavior for a Phoenix assignment. Seems to apply here as well."

"Guys..." Jack warns as the alpha turns to face them, settling into a crouching position and growling softly. "Had enough of the game, huh?" raising his weapon. "Look sharp, everyone. When I say run--"

The alpha springs into action with a mighty leap. Jack fires, striking the direwolf square in the chest.

Seeing their leader down does little to discourage the rest from attacking. Everyone does their best to fend them off with what weapons they have to hand, though bullets and energy blasts are barely doing the job as it is.

McKay uses the drone to repeatedly dive bomb the pack until one swats it aside with a massive paw. "This is completely hopeless," he moans. "We're all going to die, I just know it."

"Always the optimist, huh?" Mac grabs at a fallen branch and holds it out in Becky's direction. "Do the honors, Beck?" She fires her zat and the branch ignites. He waves it at the charging wolves, driving them away.

"Time for a strategic retreat, folks," Jack calls out. "Head for the Jumpers!"

Nobody needs to be told twice.

The direwolves follow them through the forest, close enough that Mac can't shake the feeling they're being toyed with.

The thought sends chills up his spine. While he hopes the solution's not wholesale slaughter there must be a way to protect themselves from such intelligent predators.

One feints from the side, distracting him enough to lose his footing and trip over a tree root. He hits the ground hard, gritting his teeth at the sudden, shooting pain lancing up his right leg.

"Unc!" Becky hurries to his side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Go on, get out of here. Don't worry about me."

She scowls. "Absolutely not. We haven't gone through the end of the world together only to lose each other this way. I won't have it. I'm putting a stop to this, right now." She stands, facing the approaching pack head on.

Her defiance absurdly reminds him of the time she got between him and Murdoc, desperate to protect him despite her injuries. "Becky, no. It's too dangerous--"

She smiles at him, oddly serene. "It's okay, Unc. I know what to do." She holds her arms in front of her, palms forward. "Apage!"

A sound more felt than heard emanates from the direction of the city behind them, reverberating through the forest. None of the group are affected but the direwolves stop in their tracks and start whining, until with much yowling and whimpering they turn and run away, disappearing from sight.

The sound stops, as abruptly as it began.

"Bohudíky," Zelenka mutters, wiping his brow. "That was close."

Ford lowers his weapon, blinking in surprise. "Um, what just happened?"

Jack stares after the retreating pack, shaking his head. "Well I'll be doggone, as Harry used to say."

Mac groans while Carson wraps his ankle in a bandage. "Seriously, Jack? That's awful."

"Hey, it's not every day we face down a whole pack only for them to run away with their tails between their legs at the last minute. Right, Beck?"

A faint moan behind him as she slowly collapses.

"Becky?" Daniel catches her before she hits the ground, eyes wide in alarm. "Carson!"

Beckett comes to her side, checks her out. "She's all right, poor lass. Just fainted."

"What the hell was that?" McKay demands. "What did she do?"

"Got the city to produce sound waves or vibrations, at a guess," Sam suggests. "At a frequency too low for us to hear, but obviously enough to affect them." Her eyes widen. "Of course! We could do something similar around the settlement perimeter, as a nonlethal deterrent against the packs."

Mac nods. Her excitement's contagious. "Yeah. A continuous series of transmitters every few meters apart, coupled with detectors keyed to their heat signatures or pheromones or similar--"

"--Individually powered by photovoltaic cells," Zelenka chimes in. "When predators approach, the transmitters go off, emitting pulses of infrasound--"

"--Creating a flexible barrier to keep them away, adaptable to any terrain. Completely doable!" McKay adds triumphantly.

Sheppard smirks, ruefully shaking his head. "Doesn't take much to set 'em off, does it sir?"

Jack snorts his agreement. "You got that right. Hey Teal'c, give Danny a hand with Becky, won't you?" noticing him struggling with her limp form.

"Do not worry, Daniel Jackson." He takes her, lifting her easily in his arms. "I will convey your mate with the utmost care."

"Um, Teal'c? She's not my mate."

"Not yet." His expression's even more enigmatic if that were at all possible.

Daniel falls into step alongside his teammate, clearly befuddled.

Lorne and Ford help Mac to his feet, supporting his weight between them. "You okay?" Jack asks him.

"Just a sprain according to Carson. Janet's not gonna be too happy with me, though. We had plans for tonight."

"Hey, compared to our usual jaunts through the Gate this has been a cakewalk." He slips on his sunglasses. "That being said kids, I wanna get back to base on the double. Been a hell of a day."

The ragtag group- battered and bruised but alive nonetheless- limps their way towards the Jumpers and home.

Another miraculous last-minute save. Mac wonders how long it'll take before their collective luck runs out.

Not for a very long time, hopefully.

****************

She drifts in darkness. But comforting now, no longer threatening, her claustrophobia long gone.

"Becky? Becky, can you hear me?"

She blinks at the light stabbing into her eyes. "What...?"

Janet tucks it away, helps her to sit up a little. "Easy, now. It's just me. You're in the infirmary."

"Where are my glasses? Everything's blurry."

"Here they are." Daniel hands them over, adjusts his own. Offers a tentative smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. You okay?"

"Yeah. I have to admit this is kinda awkward for me. Usually I'm where you are after a mission."

"Tell me about it." Jack's straddling a nearby chair, grinning at them. "It's a wonder Janet doesn't charge you rent, for all the times you wind up here."

"Jack..."

An innocent shrug, as if saying You started it. "Hey kiddo. Gave us a little scare, your passing out like that," he says softly. "Especially after saving Mac's life here."

"For which I'm grateful, even if what you did was a bit nuts." Mac beams at her from a neighboring bed, right leg in a fresh bandage and propped up with a pillow.

"Hey, Unc. How's the leg?"

"Better now. Janet wants me to stay overnight for observation, though. You too. Remember what happened?"

"Not really. Last I know we were being chased away from Huy-Braesealis by direwolves. You stumbled, and I--" She frowns in thought. "After that it's kind of a blur. What did I do?"

"Stood up to the whole pack, is what," Jack informs her with a note of pride in his voice. "Sent 'em running off with their tails between their legs. Gotta admit I was impressed."

"But how?"

"You got the city to emit pulses of infrasound," Mac explains, "which we couldn't hear but really bothered the wolves. Gave Sam an idea for a nonlethal perimeter defense of the settlement."

"I did?" Becky stares at him, thoroughly and genuinely bewildered. Why is it she can never remember doing heroic stuff like that? Her head starts throbbing and she winces, rubbing at her temples. "Ow."

"Headache, huh? Like a whole lot of stuff got dumped into your brain?" Jack asks sympathetically.

"Yeah. That's it exactly. How'd you know?"

"Been there, done that. Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on you." He shares a significant look with Daniel, who nods agreement.

Janet frowns. "If that's the case we'll get those scans done first thing tomorrow. Right now you need to rest, Becky. You too, Mac."

He grins. "Come by later with some of your special TLC, doc?"

"Just try and stop me. Don't think I've forgotten about that rain check."

"Looking forward to it." They gaze at each other happily enough. Downright adorable.

Jack rolls his eyes as he rises from the chair. "Oh for crying out loud, you two. Get a room, willya?"

Becky can't help giggling. "They've got one already. You're standing in it!"

He chuckles, bending to kiss her cheek. "I'll go see if I can pry Carter away from her inventions for the night. Coming, Danny?"

"Later, Jack. Can't you see I'm busy right now?"

"Yeah. Don't keep her up too late, okay? See you guys later." A cheeky wink as he leaves.

Daniel leans in close, his expression tender as he strokes her cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you, colibrì?"

"Can I lean against you for a while?"

"Sure." He scoots up behind her on the bed. A soft kiss to the top of her head, gentle, slow caresses down her body. Perfection.

Tears come to her eyes at the sweetness of it all. There's no way she can live without her gorgeous, clever, loving archaeologist. Not anymore.

He might get into trouble someday, with no way to save him. Same for Jack and the others. She'll never completely stop worrying every time they go on a mission without her. But it's no different than when she was a teenager and Mac went off on his Phoenix assignments, right? She coped with it then, she can handle it now.

Anything can happen to them, at any time. Even to her as today's events prove. Bless Harry's memory for his sound advice- better to live in the present than waste it wondering about what-ifs. Embrace the uncertainty and deal with things only as they occur.

Time to take a chance.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll move in with you."

He looks down at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you earlier. Guess I panicked, a little bit."

"You did," he admits, eyes twinkling with good humor. "But it's okay, I understand. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to spook you like that. You know you mean everything to me."

"You mean everything to me too. I want our relationship to move forward, I really do." She reaches up to caress his cheek. "That is, if you're still willing?"

His smile is warm and genuine- and seen much more often, these days. "Oh, Becky. I was hoping you'd say that. I'm so glad."

"Me too." They share a kiss, slow and sweet yet full of promise.

"Good for you two," Mac says drowsily from his bed. "Maybe I oughta ask Janet--" falling asleep mid-sentence.

She nestles against her beloved, sighing in contentment, drawing strength from his solid, comforting presence and steady heartbeat. As she slips easily into a relaxed, receptive state something stirs deep within her mind.

She's not afraid. Somehow part of the city's AI had gotten transferred before the chair released her, tucking itself within a distant corner. A portion of Huy-Braesealis, the City of Earth.

One of four cities apparently. Legacies of the Ancients just waiting to be discovered.

Are you well?

~Yes, Domina.~

You know how to conceal yourself from scans?

~Yes, Domina.~

Well. They want answers, right? Might as well start at the source.

And there was something she wanted to know, now that the city's recalled it for her.

We have much to discuss soon, Huy-Braesealis. Starting with the Astria sto pro Oculo- the Star in the Eye. I need to know how I can defend my people.

~I am at your service whenever you need me.~

Good. Sleep now.

~Yes, Domina.~ The portion goes dormant.

Daniel sighs happily, pulling her closer against his chest. "Ti amo, colibrì," he whispers.

"Ti amo anch'io, corvo."  She snuggles against him, secure in the knowledge she's no longer alone.

Inside or out.

Chapter Text

...And that's how it works?

~Yes, Domina. The potentias will be ready when you need them. I must point out the system was designed and built but never tested, nor even initialized. I cannot make any predictions as to its operational status.~

Understood.

~ I must also report my manufacturing capabilities have been brought online for another purpose. This is an automatic process programmed as a contingency and activated as soon as you accessed the chair for the first time.~

So what are you making?

~As of yet I do not know, Domina. Rest assured you will be informed as soon as the information becomes available to me.~

All right. Thank you.

~At your service, Domina.~

Becky slides out of the chair and goes to the single window in the room. Far below personnel move in and out of the informal research site set up within one of the stable buildings nearest the tower, scientists and marines serving guard duty. Visits to the city are easier now that Sam's infrasonic barrier keeps the direwolves away and the AI has resumed its watch over operations but Hammond insisted on the extra protection anyway.

She rubs her chin, staring westward beyond the crumbling towers to the mountain range on the opposite side of the valley, only a dark smudge at this distance. Absorbing all that Huy-Braesealis just imparted to her. 

What they have on this planet isn't much, but it's worth protecting. Once Anubis assembles his fleet and conquers the other System Lords it's only a matter of time before he susses out New Earth's location and attacks. Progress is being made at Alpha Base on the Prometheus and other ships but not nearly fast enough.

Their best hope right now is an untried Ancient system at least ten thousand years old. And something else in the works even the AI's unsure about, of equal vintage.

Better than nothing, she supposes. Not that they really have a choice.

She has to have faith this "Star in the Eye" will work, otherwise all is already lost.

Time to put everything in motion.

****************

Jack fixes his steely gaze on the mountain of files in front of him and wonders if the Ancients had the power to set things on fire with their minds.

Wouldn't mind having that as a superpower. Not at all.

He'd kill for a distraction, even an unscheduled offworld activation or foothold situation. Anything more exciting than paperwork.

A new military configuration on a new settlement on a new planet, and there's still so many damn forms to fill out. All this bureaucracy should've gone the way of Old Earth, for crying out loud.

If he takes over the General-Governorship as Hammond wishes, the first decree he'd make is No more paperwork, ever. That and Cake every single day, of course. Job's gotta have some perks, right?

The General's been making noises about retirement within the next year or so, stepping down to help his daughter care for his grandchildren, among the first refugees to arrive on the base right after the Big Quake. As his 2IC Jack's the most obvious candidate for taking over.

He doesn't want to be The Man. He really doesn't.

But he's been groomed to take over since Day Three, Year Zero and there's no one else qualified. Or wants it, frankly. Overseeing the NEDF plus three offworld bases is a tough job, even as part of the settlement's ruling council. While fortunately not as deep into small-minded politics as the IOA had been, it's still a crushing bore for a man of action like him.

Well, he'll just have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Jack squints at the form in front of him, wondering if he should take out his reading glasses. Not that he needs them much but lately he swears the fine print's getting smaller and smaller.

A soft tap on the door. "Yeah?"

"Um, hi. Is this a bad time?" It's Becky, with an apologetic look. Perfect timing.

"Nope, not at all. C'mon in, have a seat." Sweeps everything back into the pile, more than grateful for her interruption. "So how's tricks?"

She hesitates, picking at a seam on her blue shirt, BDUs having been accepted as working clothes for military and civilians alike around the base. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she mutters to herself.

"Hey it's me, remember? You know you can ask your ol' Uncle Colonel anything." Gentle encouragement, always the best tactic to use with his niece.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I need some advice."

"Relationship advice?" Okay, anything but that.

A wry smile. "No, that's Mac's department. Or rather Janet's, to be precise." She pauses, lightly taps her fingers together. "See, what I need is work advice. I've got some intel--"

"Thanks to the AI in the chair?"

She squirms a bit, for some reason. "It's within the whole city, but basically, yeah."

"What kind of intel?"

"Nothing I can articulate properly yet. Though I have a hunch it's something big, that could make all the difference for us against Anubis. I need to know how to write it up for a mission. You know, go through the proper channels."

"Really." He has to admit her gut feelings have been pretty accurate lately. Though there was the time last year she admitted to having a premonition something bad might happen to Daniel on P2S-4C3, aka Kelowna; when he returned safe and sound she was so glad to be proven wrong that she kissed him in the Gateroom. Jack collected a lot of favs around the base that day. "Gotta say I'm flattered you're asking me for advice but why not get Daniel to write it up for you? He's good at military jargonese."

"Because I think I need to learn how to do this myself. So will you help me, Uncle Jack? Please?"

Such an anxious look in her eyes as she waits for his reply, not that he could ever deny his favorite niece anything. Besides, he had his own hunch Becky would come to him sooner or later.

It bothers him she had the Ancient stuff downloaded into her brain this time, when by all rights it should've been him. He harbors a secret fear she'll suffer from exposure to Ancient tech as he did, the terrifying feeling of his brain being overwritten bit by bit. If not for the Asgards' intervention nothing of him would've been left.

Yet it's been a month since she first sat in that chair and there's no sign so far of the same happening to her. Maybe it's because she's younger, and therefore more resilient.

Either way Becky's come a long way from the timid teenager at her family's gravesite. Years spent living with his brother have freed and toughened her spirit, preparing her for anything that might come her way.

She seems happy enough working as an assistant but for a while now he's been certain- as confirmed in covert discussions with Daniel- his niece is ready for more responsibility.

Time to take her training to the next level. O'Neill-style, of course.

Yep, perfect timing.

He grins, leaning back in the chair and stretching his long legs out on the desk. Might as well get comfortable, and damn the paperwork. "Your lucky day, Beck. Just so happens I've got some free time today. Let me tell ya a few things..."

****************

TO: General-Governor George Hammond, Commander NEDF

FROM: Dr. Rebecca Grahme, Dept. of Anthropology, Archaeology and Linguistics, SGC

MISSION PROPOSAL: Operation Astria

STATEMENT OF PURPOSE:

• To investigate a combination offensive/defensive system designated Astria sto pro Oculo (Star in the Eye) by Huy-Braesealis, the AI controlling the Ancient city of the same name.

• To assess condition of said system and possible implementation for use in defending Gateway Settlement and environs (Phase 1), initialize (Phase 2) and test (Phase 3) if deemed suitable.

PERSONNEL REQUIRED:

• Colonel J. O'Neill

• Major S. Carter

• Dr. D. Jackson

• Teal'c

• Major J. Sheppard

• Dr. R. Grahme

• Dr. J. Fraiser

• Dr. M. R. McKay

• Dr. C. Beckett

• Dr. R. Zelenka

• A. MacGyver

• Lt. Colonel C. Mitchell

• Major E. Lorne

EQUIPMENT AND OTHER ELEMENTS REQUIRED:

• Two (2) "Puddlejumper" shuttlecraft (Phases 1 and 2)

• One (1) MALP, one (1) Advanced Sensor Drone (Phase 1)

• Two (2) F-302s, piloted by Lt. Col. Mitchell and Maj. Lorne (Phase 3)

• Two (2) structures in upper atmosphere/low orbit for targeting (Phase 3)

• Technical assistance by Huy-Braesealis (AI) (Phases 2 and 3)
  

• Radio set for communications relay between SGC and control room in Huy-Braesealis (city) (Phases 2 and 3)

PLAN OF ACTION:

"Can't sleep, huh?"

Startled, Becky turns to see Daniel leaning against the doorway, blinking sleepily at her behind his glasses, hair tousled. Clad only in boxers, arms crossed loosely. The light from the computer screen highlighting the subtle sheen of sweat on his bare chest.

Such smooth, delectable skin. So soft and warm under her hands. She can just taste the fine salt as she kisses slowly down his body--

She gives herself a mental shake. No time to indulge in fantasies. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Only when I realized you weren't with me." A kiss on her cheek before peering over her shoulder at the computer screen. "You've been working awfully hard on this proposal, haven't you? Above and beyond what's usually needed for a mission."

"Really? According to Jack all this prep is SOP--" She pauses, frowns as a nasty thought comes to her.

He'd been awfully eager to give her advice when she asked the other day. Maybe too eager.

Had he been putting her on the whole time? Her uncle's got a reputation as a trickster, after all. Wouldn't put it past him.

"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head. "I swear, family or no, black ops training or no, one of these days I'm gonna throttle him."

"Ooh, can I watch?"

She chuckles at his eager expression. "You might even want to sell tickets. Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with a plan to get back at him."

"Sounds good to me." He captures her lips in a deep, lingering kiss, leaving her reeling when he abruptly releases her.

"Um," she says weakly, "that's not what I meant..."

"Oh, I think it is." His playful smile morphs quickly into a concerned frown. "What's wrong? You're not worried about the briefing, are you?"

"Maybe a little." She raises her arms to stretch, wincing at the unexpected tightness in her shoulder blades.

"Hey, you're all tense here. Let me take care of that." Thumbs dig skillfully into the skin. She moans in appreciation of his deft, sure touch.

"God, you're wonderful. How did you get so good at this?"

A low chuckle. "I'll never tell." Long fingers press into another sore spot, earning another soft moan. "You'll be just fine," he soothes. "I have every faith in you. No one's gonna laugh, trust me."

"You don't know that. I swear my uncles both think I'm still just a kid. And who'd take me seriously, anyway?"

"Becky, stop it. You've more than earned your place with us, you know you have. And after all the time you've spent in the city since the expedition, no one's likely to question your expertise."

"Yeah, but--"

A caressing finger on her lips silences her. "Nope. No more second guessing. You're done for the night." Ignoring her protests he saves the file and shuts down the computer. Pulls her up from the chair, right against his firm body. A look of desire in those blue bedroom eyes sets her heart to pounding as he bends to kiss her. "Come with me, hubibi," he croons. "Let me take your mind off your worries and onto something more...pleasurable, hmm?"

Becky swallows, suppressing a shiver as his voice drops into a husky register. He's not going to take no for an answer. And judging by the knowing smirk on those sensual lips he's also well aware she loves it when he seduces her in other languages.

She glances at the computer and bites her lower lip. She really should get back to work.

He takes her hand, nibbling gently on the knuckles. "Ahbak ya tayir altanani. Taeal 'iilaa alsarir, " he whispers against her skin before covering it in more kisses.

Oh, what the hell. The work can wait.

"Ya gharab." She lets him lead her to the bedroom.

****************

Becky takes a sip of water, all she can swallow what with her stomach tied up in knots. Flips through notes, recommitting words already committed to memory. Not for the first time wonders why she's doing this solo.

But Daniel has every confidence in her to carry this off. She won't let him down.

The Gate having discharged the contingent from Alpha Base, people soon file into the room, taking their seats at the long conference table. Glances are made in her direction, along with smiles and subtle, encouraging nods or winks. Mac gently squeezes her shoulder as he passes behind her, sitting next to Janet.

A stirring from within. ~Do you need assistance, Domina? I can do the presentation if you wish.~

No, thank you. Go back to sleep.

~Yes, Domina.~

No need to arouse suspicions.

Hammond enters after the others are seated as usual, the privilege of rank. Acknowledging in genial fashion the salutes and respectful nods. "At ease. Dr. Grahme, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then by all means please proceed."

One last look around the room. Familiar faces all, quiet and attentive. A slow wink from Jack, a warm encouraging smile from Daniel.

Right. She can do this.

"Good morning, all. First I'd like to present a little background information on Huy-Braesealis.

"On Old Earth Hy-Brasil- also called the Fortunate Island as derived from the Gaelic word breas, meaning noble or fortunate- was thought to be located generally southwest of Ireland. It appeared on maps from around 1325 to 1865, sometimes confused with the islands of the Azores, or at least enough to inspire the later name for the country in South America. In fact, the central image on the Brazilian flag- a circle with a channel across the center- was the island's symbol on early maps.

"It also had a reputation for disappearing, whether in fog or under the waves, then reappearing briefly once every seven years. But regardless of that the island was rumored to be the home of a wealthy and highly advanced civilization--"

"Similar to legends of Atlantis," Daniel interjects. She raises an eyebrow at him. "Sorry."

"Which brings us to the Ancient city we know now as Huy-Braesealis. Through my connection to the AI via the control chair I've learned of a combination defensive and offensive system protecting not only the city but also potentially the entire valley. Called by the Ancients Astria sto pro Oculo, or Star in the Eye--"

Mitchell raises his hand. "Excuse me, but where's the Eye? I don't see it."

"Daniel, will you please bring up the first image, and rotate it 90 degrees?" He nods, typing on the laptop. On the screen behind her an aerial shot of the valley appears, two mountain ranges running north to south and slightly curving inwards, framing the settlement valley.

As the image is rotated Becky holds her up her hand, imitating the shape by curving her thumb and fingers towards each other in front of her left eye. "Do you see it now?"

Gradual nods of agreement.

"According to the AI the system consists of five activation points- the city itself and four additional emplacements located in both ranges. When properly connected they possess the dual capability to either generate a protective shield over the valley called aspida or combine to form aktina. Which is, in the immortal words of my uncle the Colonel," with a wink for Jack, "a big honkin' space gun. Or space ray, in this case."

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

Sam raises a hand. "What's the power source for the system?"

"Each emplacement requires what the AI calls a potentia," Becky explains. "There's nothing in our records about it, so Daniel was kind enough to do a sketch and color, based on the AI's description."

A second image appears on the screen. Somewhat cylindrical in shape, yellowish crystals in a black wire framework with touches of dark brown, burnt orange and green. Rough octagon on the top, red crystal in the center. Resembling a flame shape when upside down, at least to Becky's eyes.

"Proboha, Rodney," Radek murmurs. "It...it's--"

"Yes, yes, of course it is!" He leans forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

Everyone else trades puzzled glances.

"So what is it?" Jack finally ventures.

"A ZedPM. Zero Point Module. Obviously."

"Dr. McKay, would you mind elaborating for the rest of us?" Hammond inquires.

He'd rather be doing anything but, judging by his sour expression. "Right. Since they designed the Stargates to be powered by neutrinos the Ancients obviously knew about quantum mechanics and how to harness zero point energy, which is present at the quantum level when energy's converted to entropy--"

Becky snaps her fingers. "Vacuum energy! When all matter is removed in space energy remains, in the form of particles which spontaneously emerge and exist for fractions of a second before being annihilated by anti-particles."

Everyone looks at her in surprise. She shrugs, a little sheepish. "What? I read a lot of science fiction."

Mac chuckles. "The advantages of being a bookworm, huh?"

Rodney waves a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Since by definition zero point energy can never be depleted, it's theoretically both unlimited and free. Containment units- or Zero Point Modules- were therefore created and used by the Ancients to power all manner of devices."

"Putting the batteries by that ol' pink bunny to shame, I bet," Jack quips.

"They're certainly capable of storing and producing much more than even a naquadah generator, sir," Sam concurs. "Which makes sense, considering either mode would require a huge expenditure of energy. But where do we find these ZPMs?"

"Oh, that's easy," Becky says. "The city's preparing them as we speak." For the second time everyone stares at her, nonplussed by the offhandedness of her remark.

McKay looks a bit put out. "Hmph. Way to bury the lead."

"I'll show you where the city's manufacturing them, and anyone else who's interested. Would that make you feel better?"

He blinks at her, momentarily taken aback. "...Yeah. It would."

"So. Four emplacements, four ZPMs," John says. "Where do we fit into all this?"

"According to the AI the Ancients designed and built the system, but never got the chance to initialize and test it before they disappeared," Becky explains. "Each emplacement must be initialized by someone with the ATA gene. Huy-Braesealis actually recommends a two-person team, one to activate and another to insert the ZPM as well as observe and assist if necessary."

"No doubt in case heads explode or whatever," Jack notes, very dry. "Which five of us have the gene again?"

"I've only taken a small sample of the population so far, Colonel," Carson says, "but based on my tests the strongest expressions are right here at this table- myself, you and your brother, your niece and Major Sheppard."

"So we're freaks? Now that's just peachy."

"Lab rats," John mutters with distaste. Mac's frowning slightly now as well.

"Oh come now," Carson protests, his accent thickening, "it's not so bad as all that. I've been around Ancient tech on Alpha Base and had no troubles."

Jack glares at him in misdirected animosity. "You weren't around when I almost lost my mind to that head-grabbing Repository. I don't like the idea that having some wacko junk DNA in me means it could happen all over again!" Becky wonders if she's the only one to hear the fear underlying his voice, for her as well as himself.

Daniel and Carson speak up almost simultaneously:

"Jack, he's not implying it will this time--"

"Colonel, it's hardly junk DNA if it has a specific purpose--"

"Come on, guys," Mac cuts in, "couldn't you argue about this later--"

Hammond frowns and raises his voice. "Gentlemen, please. Dr. Grahme still has the floor--"

Becky groans inwardly as everyone else starts talking. Having her first solo briefing spiral out of control wasn't how she wanted this day to go.

Thing is, she can relate to Jack's concern all too well. She doesn't like the idea of being regarded as a freak either. Had enough of that growing up.

But now's not the time to dwell, as he himself might say. Better keep the briefing on task, regain focus.

She pounds the table hard, only once. That gets everyone's attention. "We are not freaks! We've just got something extra that makes us uniquely qualified to carry out this mission, that's all. Besides," gesturing around the table, "most of us here are unique in one way or another. C'mon, think about it."

Silence follows as everyone ponders her words.

"She has a point, guys," Mac says eventually. "I mean, you gotta admit we're in good company, all things considered." Winks at Becky.

Jack still doesn't look very comfortable with the idea, but at least keeps further misgivings to himself. "Whatever. So once we've got it up and running, is it gonna need any babysitting?"

"No," Becky says. "After that it should be fully automated, just requiring the command to activate when necessary."

"But how does it work?" Radek asks.

"I'm not really sure, and the AI never explained. Hopefully you, Sam and Rodney can figure it out."

"So who are in these two-person teams you mentioned, Beck?" Jack asks. There's a twinkle in his eyes again, one she can't decipher.

"I'll be making those assignments when the mission's ready to run." Whoops. That sounded presumptuous. Hopefully no one's noticed.

"How about us?" Mitchell indicates himself and Lorne.

"You guys will be Phase Three, testing. Using your F-302s to simulate attacks for aspida, then releasing a couple targets into the upper atmosphere for aktina. Mac, think you can work up something in that regard?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a grin. "Might have a couple notions already."

"And afterwards, Dr. Grahme?" Hammond inquires.

"Well, sir, after the initialization it should be ready to use in whichever mode is required, defense or offense."

"Can both be used at the same time?"

"No, sir. Not that I'm aware of."

"How long will it take to prepare for the mission?"

"A couple weeks, by my estimate. Enough time for inspection and repairs if needed for each emplacement and constructing the targets."

"Do you think you're prepared to lead this team?"

Her eyes go wide. She did not just hear what she thought she heard. Did she?

"Me, sir?" Her voice squeaks a bit. How mortifying.

The General looks amused. "Of course. As you already have so much of this planned out, I see no reason not to put you officially in charge of this mission."

For a moment she feels faint. Maybe because she hasn't had anything to eat yet. Or a sudden attack of nerves.

Many speculative glances tossed her way but to her surprise no objections are raised. Not a single one.

Which is frankly terrifying.

For crying out loud, girl, she tells herself sternly. Buck up. Be brave.

Besides, it'll be fun. She gets to give everyone else orders for a change. Even Jack.

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best."

"That's all I expect, Dr. Grahme. You have a go for Phase One of Operation Astria. We'll reconvene in two weeks' time for final briefing. Dismissed."

Becky keeps herself steady as the others leave, then his words slowly sink in and her legs begin to wobble. She swallows, gripping the edge of the table for support.

A gentle touch on her arm and she jumps.

Daniel looks down at her in concern. "Sorry, it's just me. You okay?"

"The General wants me in charge of this mission," she says, faintly. "Me, of all people."

"Well, I'm not surprised, considering how hard you worked on the proposal and everything. And you're our liaison with the city besides. Makes sense." If it wasn't for his hand steadying her she'd be sinking to the floor right about now.

"I don't know if I'm up to it. I mean, being any kind of a leader. I'm more used to working behind the scenes, you know?"

"Don't worry. You'll do fine, even Jack thinks so. Otherwise he wouldn't have suggested you do all that prep in the first place." A note of surprise in his voice, as if he just realized it.

She frowns. "You really think he set me up for this?"

"Actually I do. Even when he seems to be just goofing off he pays closer attention to things than even I give him credit for. Over the years I've realized there's very little he does without some purpose or plan."

"As opposed to Uncle Mac, who thrives on spontaneity." She shakes her head ruefully. "Unbelievable. No, totally believable. He knew I needed to work everything out beforehand anyway."

And then this. Giving her a shot at leadership.

Which maybe was the point.

She's gotta hand it to her ol' Uncle Colonel. He's crazy, but like a fox more than anything else.

And if he has that much faith in her, then so be it.

She tilts her head, staring up at Daniel in a speculative manner. "You know, I could use an assistant. Think you're up to the task, Dr. Jackson?"

He shrugs. "Sure. Why not? I'll try anything once. Besides," he adds with a cheeky wink, "you know how adventurous I am in the pursuit of knowledge." 

She grins back. "Now that gives me a few ideas. But breakfast first, okay? All of a sudden I'm starving."

The mission must be a success, there's too much at stake otherwise.

Here's her proving ground. She'll try her hardest to make everyone proud.

No matter what.

****************

"You really think letting Becky take point is a wise thing to do, Jack?" Mac asks a few days later. "Don't lie to me. I see your hand in this."

Jack hefts a ceramic bottle of beer, both of which he made himself having taken up both pottery and brewing in his spare time. "Yeah. Why not? It's a learning experience. Gives her a chance to spread her wings and gain self-confidence. You worried about her?"

Mac shrugs. "Can't help but be. She's pushing herself too much at it is, burying herself in forms and reports and meetings with everyone, including the two of us. Always been a hard worker, but Daniel says she's burning the midnight oil far more often than usual--"

"He should know."

"Seriously, Jack. He's worried she's gonna burn out before long, and so am I. C'mon, 'fess up already. You don't have to go through all this for real when you prep for a mission, do you?"

He leans back in the chair, stretching out his legs and regarding his twin from under the brim of his cap. "Apart from the tactical and armaments side? Not really. Just between the two of us, usually I kinda piggyback my stuff on top of Carter's or Daniel's. Let them do the heavy lifting, you know? Less stress that way."

"Jack..."

"Look, Becky's doing fine. Taken to this even better than I'd imagined. No one has any complaints. Well, save for grumbles from McKay, but that's nothing new and not even about her. I have every confidence in our niece. You should too, or why else did you fill her head with those Brave Princess stories when she was a kid?"

"I do, believe me. It's just that--"

"Hey, I get it. You're used to looking out for her. But she's a grown adult now, with abilities and responsibilities all her own. Besides, she's not doing this solo. We've all got her back."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But still--"

"Watch it," Jack admonishes. "You wouldn't want our fearless leader thinking you don't have faith in her or the mission, now do you?"

Mac scowls. "You know, I really hate when you do that. Reminds me of arguments with Mom and losing every time she lifted her finger that way."

"Pretty effective tactic then, isn't it? C'mon Mac, lighten up. You worry too much, always have."

"Can't say as I didn't have good reason back when I took her in." He sighs, running a hand through unruly hair. "Must've been nuts at the time, thinking I could make a halfway decent in loco parentis, what with my Phoenix assignments and Murdoc and friends getting me into trouble and all."

"Quit brooding on the past already, willya? You're as bad as Daniel when he gets going." More soberly. "You and Becky did just fine together, you know that. It's because of you she's taking all this wackiness in stride."

"Instead of a more reasonable attitude, like sheer blind terror." A rueful chuckle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Though Allison always was the more practical one in our family."

"Yeah. Like mother like daughter." Jack holds up his bottle in a toast. "To our big sis. Hope she's getting a kick out of watching over us, wherever she is."

"To Allison." Mac cocks his head, giving him a long, thoughtful stare. "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd swear you're enjoying this a little too much."

An offhanded shrug. "Makes a nice change, let me tell ya. Hey, don't worry about Becky, she's got this. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Let me count the ways." Very dry.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha." Jack takes a final, speculative swig of his bottle. Not great, this latest batch. Yet not too bad either. One of these days he'll get it right. "C'mon, let's see if Sergeant White's figured out how to make decent ice cream to go with today's cake."

****************

So much to do, so little time. Being a leader is harder than Becky thought.

First up is an inspection tour of the emplacements. Which are all in remarkably good shape, considering they're at least ten thousand years old. Easily accessed by contact with an ATA gene carrier.

One entrance is partially covered with rock from a landslide but the obstruction's soon removed with help from a platoon of Marines ferried in on a second Jumper.

The exteriors are as rough-hewn in appearance as the city's towers. Ragged pinnacles of rock blend in with the rest of the range, save for a perfectly smooth, concave section near the top lined in a familiar grayish metal. Also like the city the interiors are more refined in contrast, largely empty save for a dais with a less elaborate version of a control chair next to a console complete with a slot underneath for a ZPM.

"The concave section's coated in naquadah, but with a different structure to the embedded crystalline matrix," Sam remarks, going over the readings later from both MALP and sensor drone.

"To store and reflect energy." Radek muses, "as in Stargates."

"More like a parabolic reflector antenna. Energy in the form of electromagnetic waves is captured by the antenna and reflected at the focal point. The whole signal therefore remains in phase with no cancellation before moving on to the next antenna."

"And perhaps to intensify before redirecting as well? So by being bounced around it gathers enough energy into itself."

"Exactly. But signals attenuate the longer the distance between antennas, so a lot more power is required to span the valley. Which explains why each emplacement has an additional energy source, to give it a boost."

The next day Becky has John take them to the city to see the laser array mounted in the highest room of the central tower, consisting of a light source in a reflective container and surrounded by a crystal matrix.

"Lasers are created when the electrons in atoms absorb energy from an electrical current or another laser and become excited," Sam explains for her benefit, "moving briefly from a low-energy state to a higher one. As they drop back down to normal they emit photons with a coherent wavelength and pattern."

"This machine is similar to those we had back on Old Earth," Zelenka concurs. "Allowing of course for Ancient refinements. Pulses of light are emitted and excited into a higher energy state by bouncing off the reflective surfaces, stimulating the electrons even more before dropping back to normal. The laser photons are then sent through the crystal matrix which acts as an amplifier--"

McKay sniffs. "Yes, yes, we can already surmise how it works. Really, this is all so basic."

"Yeah, but I'm interested," Becky says with a wink for John. They do like showing off their knowledge. "So what happens next?"

"Well, as the photons bounce further back and forth more electrons drop to their lower energy states, producing huge numbers of photons with the same wavelength and direction moving as one--"

"Which we see as an extremely bright beam of light?"

"...A gross oversimplification, but yes."

"Most importantly for our purposes," Sam adds, "laser light is directional, and because it's coherent, it stays focused for vast distances. So this system's basically an energy generator and amplifier. This is fascinating!"

Becky grins. "You ain't seen nothing yet. Let me show you guys what's in the basement. It'll really knock your socks off."

A sub-basement, actually, with what turns out to be a completely automated machine turning out ZPMs.

In one sealed compartment specialized crystals grow before their eyes from molds and bound onto wire circuitry frameworks. In another each completed module is filled by virtue of a stable micro-miniature wormhole continually opening and closing, bleeding off zero point energy from the void between the stars, at the end giving off a brief but bright warm glow like miniature suns before settling down.

She's glad she advised them earlier to bring their sunglasses.

Rodney's practically drooling. Sam's at a loss for words. Zelenka keeps muttering in Czech. Even John's pretty impressed.

So there are some advantages to being the liaison for an Ancient city, if it means she can show off cool stuff like this.

****************

Meanwhile in his usual ingenious fashion Mac's come up with a prototype target for Phase Three.

Spheres are built with help from Siler, consisting of frameworks built from a native bamboo-like grassoid, lashed together with duck tape and covered in sheets of shimmering Mylar they inexplicably found during a salvage hunt within Alvarez's vast storehouses. Each sphere is therefore fairly lightweight and flexible enough to be towed into low orbit by an F-302. Trials conducted with help from Mitchell and Lorne have proven very promising so far, and between runs the pilots have exciting stories to tell of aerial dogfights. Mac keeps them laughing in turn with his own flying exploits and mishaps with Jack Dalton.

It's fun to watch but Becky can't let herself get distracted for long. Though micromanaging is frustrating at times she knows details are important, so she runs herself ragged stroking egos, offering encouragements, generally making sure people are happy and have what they need. Reviewing and signing off on every progress report and requisition in true bureaucratic fashion, which she's used to thanks to her time at Phoenix.

How Jack and his team manage to save the world on a regular basis and handle all this paperwork she'll never know. Daniel's an invaluable assistant yet it feels as if there aren't nearly enough hours in the day for her to accomplish everything.

From time to time she wonders just how much more she can take before cracking. She's aware of the toll it's taking on her mental and physical health but there's no choice. The fate of the settlement- and perhaps the entire galaxy- is in her hands now. She has to keep going.

Even at the risk of pushing herself off the deep end.

****************

Daniel watches Becky hunched over her desk, poring over reports and diagrams. Taking off her glasses to rub at her face every now and then, muttering under her breath.

She's become much more tense and irritable lately. Barely sleeps. Eats what's in front of her but doesn't take the time to enjoy either the food or the company like she used to. Hardly reads for fun anymore, even.

All very worrisome.

It hurts more than he thought it would, watching his beloved burn the candle at both ends like this. As driven and detail-oriented as he is, turns out she's even more so.

He's never had to do quite this much prep for a mission before, and neither has Jack or Sam. Yet somehow Becky's convinced herself of the need to oversee practically every aspect, no matter how insignificant. He's discussed his concerns with Mac several times but all they can do is provide support.

It's an uncomfortable reminder of himself from eight years ago. Obsessing over his grandfather's work, using it to develop his own theories of cultural cross-pollination and possible alien contact in Ancient Egypt. Delving into every minor translation and insignificant fact, searching desperately for meaning, for correlation, for justification. For proof of his sanity, hanging by a thread even before his encounter with Catherine one rainy afternoon.

Becky might be headed down the same path if something isn't done.

She's the mirror of his soul and he loves her for it. And for much more, of course. He'd do anything for her.

Which is why he's about to go behind her back a second time, as he did a couple years before. Like then it's the only way he can think of to save her sanity.

As her assistant his job is to ensure her well-being, making sure she has what she needs to carry out her appointed task. Including a much-needed break.

So why does it feel like a betrayal all over again?

He can only hope she'll forgive him. Someday.

She raises a suspicious eyebrow as he grabs his jacket. "Where are you going?"

"Just over to Botany, get some more klahbark to brew from Dave Parrish. We're fresh out. Sure you don't want to come with me, take a break?" Knowing what the answer will be but asks anyway.

"I'm fine," comes the reply, more curt than usual.

Yeah, definitely not herself. Time to have a word with Jack.

Though he also stops afterwards and picks up a cloth filter bag of prepared klahbark from Parrish, because they really are out.

One day, he hopes, they'll find another world with coffee-like beans, but for now klah will have to do.

At least it has caffeine.

****************

Not taking point for once has been pretty fun for Jack. No need to perform any pesky pre-mission prep so he feels as loose and relaxed as if coming back from leave.

He really should delegate more often.

Though since talking to Daniel he's got this tickling sensation down his spine now, a familiar gut feeling telling him Becky's in trouble, or will be soon.

So instead of sleeping he finds himself prowling restlessly around the base the next night, giving everything a quick once-over.

Sergeant White and his crew do dishes and next day's meal prep to the sound of oldies on Radio Gateway. A couple of SG teams suit up for their own missions (the Gate is operational 28/7, after all). Custodial crew tidy up here and there.

Otherwise all seems to be dark, quiet and peaceful. No problems here.

And then he sees the lights blazing in one certain building. Just as he feared.

As Jack enters the lab Becky's slumped forwards with her head resting on her arms, Daniel leaning back with mouth wide open. He'd never tell either of them they snore, but both have this adorable habit of occasionally sighing in their sleep.

He knew they'd make a cute couple. What a pair of night-owls. Birds of a feather, and so forth. 

Too bad he forgot to bring his camera.

"Good morning, campers! Up and at 'em!"

No answer. Clearly nothing short of an unscheduled offworld activation's gonna wake them.

Tempting to get whoever's on Gate duty at this late hour to sound the klaxon. But that would raise too much of a ruckus, and the General's not a fan of having his beauty sleep interrupted without cause.

Jack settles for picking up a thick tome from a nearby table. The resounding thump as it hits the floor is oddly satisfying.

Both awaken with a start. Daniel blinks owlishly, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Mmm, Jack? That you? Morning already?"

He smirks, used to his friend's lack of eloquence after sleep. "Sorry, Danny. Not yet."

Becky utters a huge yawn, looking more than a little disoriented herself. "Uncle Jack? What time's it?"

"Time for all good archaeologists and nieces to be tucked in bed, that's what." He balances atop a corner of the worktable, folding his arms. "C'mon, off with you two."

"Sorry, gotta stay up." She yawns again. "Can't sleep now."

"Sure you can. Or ought to, anyway. Being in charge of a mission doesn't mean you have to be working round the clock, Beck. You really need some rest."

"Later," she insists. "Got too much to do. Everyone's counting on me. Leave me alone."

"No can do, kiddo. Go on, get some shut-eye. It'll all be waiting for you when you get back--"

"I won't go to bed!" She jumps up from her seat, eyes blazing. "You're not my dad. You can't make me!"

He almost falls off the table in shock. She's never yelled at him like that before, or anyone else as far as he knows. It's usually not in her nature.

Though Mac once commented- with his typical knack for dry understatement- that the only times he's ever had to act parental is when he's getting Becky to sleep at a reasonable hour. Jack can understand why, now.

As it turns out Becky's equally stunned, a panicked look in her eyes as if fixing to run away.

Briefly he wonders if Janet ought to be called in with a sedative.

Nah, better not. Wouldn't do for the others to hear about this. Bad for morale.

Yet what can he do? He's not in charge of the mission, after all. She is.

For the first time ever he has absolutely no idea what to do next.

Fortunately Daniel does, elbowing past him to gather her into his arms.

She tenses at first, then relaxes against him. "Oh god, I think I'm losing my mind."

Jack's tempted to reply with one of his usual cutting remarks, like he does to anyone who pushes themselves beyond their limits without thinking.

Yet he hesitates.

It's his niece, for crying out loud. For all they enjoy verbal sparring from time to time he simply cannot bring himself to lay into her now. Not in her fragile state.

Besides, it's kinda his fault in the first place.

He's right about her being ready for leadership, down to his bones. This mission is perfect for her, which is why he convinced the General to give her the chance.

He forgot how hard she'd push herself, though. All the way to the edge.

And Mac had warned him, to be fair. Even as a kid she held herself to impossibly high standards. Sensitive and serious and determined to do well no matter what, be it handicrafts or singing or academia.

Old soul in a young body, as Mac told Daniel last month. Sure got that right.

Daniel's holding her carefully, easing her shudders with a slow hand down her back, murmuring soft words. The worried look he shares with Jack means he's seeing some echo of himself in her from back in the day.

Jack can understand why. Usually bright, cheerful and clever the long hours have taken their toll on her going by the dark circles under her eyes and tight, harried expression. Even her auburn tresses- so much like her mother's- have lost some of their luster, hanging in lank strands.

He was right in his earlier decision not to involve anyone else, lest the others start losing faith at the last minute.

Or Becky loses faith in herself, for that matter.

He's trained to assess the safety risk in every situation as team leader, and right now a severely sleep-deprived niece could jeopardize the entire mission. She's gotta get some balance back.

"Sorry," she whispers to him while still in Daniel's arms, blinking away tears. "So sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo. You just need a break, that's all." He pauses, considering. "Tell you what- why don't you take the next three days off on me? Sleep, read, do whatever you want so long as it's got nothing to do with work. So what do ya say?"

She frowns but Daniel nods agreement after a sharp glance at him. "Good idea, Jack."

"Glad you think so Danny, 'cause you're on leave too. In fact, both of you are under strict orders not to report in until Tuesday. Got it?" He lifts his finger, forestalling her protest. "I'm serious, now. Your place, the refectory or one of those music concerts around town you guys like. Nowhere else. No side trips to the city, either. That's an order."

"Tuesday? But that's mission day," she protests. "We're not ready--"

Daniel clears his throat. "Um, actually we are."

She gives him a skeptical look. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Becky looks ready to complain- several times- but decides against it. Finally her delicate shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. You win."

"That's my girl. C'mon, let's blow this joint." Briskly ushering them out of the lab and back to the residential square.

Daniel lets Becky in then lingers outside. "She'll be fine, Jack. I'll look after her."

"Know you will. Thanks for the heads up. I'd honestly forgotten she'd take it so seriously."

"Not your fault." He pauses. "Have to admit it was fun, being her assistant. She's really good, even if way too focused on details at times."

"Sounds familiar." Very dry.

A crooked smile. "Yeah, guess so. Still think she's ready for more responsibility?"

"Yeah. Learning experience, remember? She'll know better than to stretch herself so thin next time."

Daniel nods. "I think so too. She'll do just fine on Tuesday."

"I know she will. Everything's ready, then?"

"Paperwork's already been sent to Hammond for his approval."

"Without her signature? Or did she already sign it and just doesn't remember?"

"Well, sort of." A sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was already typed up and everything. I kinda sneaked it by her. I won't do that to her again, I promise."

"Better not." Jack frowns as a thought comes to him. "Wait a minute. Isn't that how you passed all those unnecessary requisitions for more books and stuff by me in the past?"

There's that shifty expression Daniel's so good at. "Wouldn't exactly call them unnecessary, but yeah..."

"Figures. That's blackmail material, you know. Don't be surprised if I hold it over you in return for a favor sometime."

"Whatever, Jack." An eloquent roll of his eyes.

It's nice to just stand there for a while, taking in the stillness of early morning. Quieter and more peaceful now with the direwolves kept away by Sam's infrasound barrier.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for looking out for her, when..." A vague wave of his hand.

"Of course." He pauses. "I love her, you know. More than I ever thought possible after losing Sha're. I'd do anything for her."

"Yeah, I know."

They share a significant look, meaning in team-specific nonverbal communication We shall never speak of this again.

Jack's mouth widens in a huge yawn, surprising himself. "Whew, guess I'd better turn in. Night, Danny. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

A sly smile briefly crosses the archaeologist's lips. "Oh, I'm sure some biting will occur. Night, Jack. See you on Tuesday."

The door shuts firmly, leaving his friend a little perturbed by the slightly salacious words.

Not that Jack's ever minded their relationship. How could he, when he practically encouraged it right from the start?

Probably a good idea to let them have their space, all the same.

Or better yet issue the same orders to everyone else on the team, since they've all been working so hard. No exceptions.

A sly smile comes to his own face as he thinks of Sam. Who knows what fun they might get up to, with three whole days of downtime?

Mission day should be interesting.

****************

Becky's half asleep when Daniel enters the bedroom. Lying as usual on her left side in only her underwear, glasses on the nightstand.

Which is a relief. For a moment he was afraid she'd stay awake on principle. She can be just as stubborn as Jack or his brother sometimes. Like uncles, like niece.

At least she sides with him on arguments. Most of the time, anyway.

Daniel removes his own glasses and strips down to his boxers. Spooning behind her, right arm curving around her waist. Tucking his head next to hers he breathes in her scent- books and chocolate, sea spray, lavender and jasmine.

Delicious. Mouth-watering.

He wants to cover her in kisses but it'd be better to let her rest for now. Pleasure can wait until later.

She stirs a little, her left hand coming up to stroke his arm. "Sorry about earlier," she whispers into the darkness.

"Shh. Don't worry about it." Drops a kiss into her hair. "Sweet dreams, hummingbird."

"You too, raven." Falling instantly into a deep sleep.

As he told Jack, he'd do anything for her. Which is why going behind her back was both the easiest and hardest thing he's ever had to do. And he's done it twice now.

Hopefully he'll never have to again.

Chapter Text

Morning light leaks into the bedroom around the curtains.

Becky opens her eyes, yawns and stretches, reveling in the firm, warm- and very male- body cuddling her close, his scent surrounding her. Natural and musky, leather, books and ancient, sun-warmed stone.

Delightful.

Three days have gone by awfully fast. Plenty of sleep and food, concerts and sweet lovemaking and just lazing around reading, enjoying each other's company. Every minute spent together memorable and satisfying. Staying in bed the rest of the day will cap things off very nicely.

In the state she'd been last week she would've gone completely nuts, which in retrospect wouldn't have been good for the mission at all. Thank god for Jack's timely intervention, though she now owes her uncle an awful lot of favs.

"Morning," he breathes into her neck accompanied by tender nibbles and licks, a delicate arousing touch. She leans back, smiling as she becomes aware of him stirring, in more ways than one. How lucky she is to have her clever and talented raven as a lover. For a fellow shy geek he's got some impressive skills in seduction which he's patiently taught her many times, to their mutual satisfaction.

Staying in bed together is most definitely on today's agenda.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm." More leisurely kisses, drifting down onto her shoulder as long fingers stroke her thigh. "You?"

She turns to face those blue bedroom eyes. "I slept fine, all the way through. Didn't wake up once."

"Glad to hear it." Their lips meet, all sweet and warm and comforting. Hands trace patterns, words and hieroglyphs over each other's bodies as the kiss deepens. No translation required since they all have the same meaning: I love you. Shared passion between linguists is the best, Becky's sure.

She sighs in dreamy content as their foreheads just touch, breathing into one another, mingling their pneuma or innermost being. Eyes closing, heartbeat slowing. The intensity of their connection keeping the rest of the world at bay.

Perfection.

"So," Daniel murmurs, "are you ready for today?"

Her eyes open. "What about today?"

"The mission, remember? Final briefing's in a couple hours."

Oh, yeah. Mission day. Right.

"Um, I suppose."

He cocks his head, regarding her with wry amusement. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"Guess I'm still kinda nervous. Can't believe I broke down like that in front of you and Jack. It's embarrassing."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Becky. You'll learn to manage things better next time, that's all."

She scoffs. "If there is a next time."

"There will be. I'm sure of it." Gentle, reassuring caresses that warm her heart.

He's been her faithful assistant, her steadfast support the entire time, as she tries to be for him. It's the least she can do for her handsome archaeologist.

"You think Jack will ever forgive me for yelling at him?"

"Sure. I yell at him all the time and we're still friends."

She can't help the wry chuckle. "True. How about us? Are we good?"

"We're good." His lips brush against hers, linger on her cheek. "So, ready to get out of bed?"

"Not yet," she admits. "Feeling a little tense, you know?"

"Is that so." He purses his lips, considering. Sly mischief twinkles in his eyes. "Well, I happen to know of an ancient and very reliable cure for reducing anxieties. Proven to ease all kinds of tension."

God, she loves it when he's like this, playfulness mixed with passion. "By replacing them with ones of a more carnal kind, no doubt."

"Oh, yeah." Hot, open-mouthed kisses laced around her neck as long, clever fingers deftly tease her in places that soon reduce her body to a delightful quivering state of anticipation.

"Well since you put it that way," she says with a wicked smile as her smaller hands linger around his most sensitive spots, making him gasp and squirm a bit. "Are you sure this miracle cure of yours can ease all my tensions before the briefing, Dr. Jackson? I've got ever so many."

"I guarantee it." His lips close on hers.

****************

It's been the best idea Jack's had in, well, ever.

There's a spring in people's steps, easy banter traded across the table as the team gathers for the final briefing. Looks like the downtime did everyone a world of good, what with that obvious glow from attentions paid by loved ones.

Not something generally expected during a mission, he has to admit. This taking a back seat thing is proving to be pretty interesting so far.

Becky enters with Daniel, clearly in much better spirits than a few days ago. She stops in her tracks, tensing slightly. He follows her gaze, smiles and murmurs reassurance, gently pushing her in Jack's direction.

She hesitates nonetheless, worrying at her lower lip a little. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"Um, look, I'm really sorry about--"

He waves it off with a smile. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. We're good."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Gives her a playful nudge towards the opposite end of the table. "You're up."

Sam frowns, a little puzzled by their byplay. "Something happen between you two last week, sir?"

"Just some uncle-niece stuff, Carter. Nothing that concerns you. Heads up, here comes the General."

Hammond enters, nodding at salutes and deferential greetings alike. "Good morning, all. Dr. Grahme, if you're ready to proceed with the final briefing?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The quiet confidence is back in her voice. "Daniel, can you please bring up the second image of the valley, the one with the dots?"

Same horizontal orientation as before on the screen, this time with five points indicated in red, three on top and two on bottom.

She picks up a laser pointer. "The top is the eastern range, the bottom west. The red dots indicate the emplacements with the city in the center top. After everyone's in place the AI will direct the city to generate an energy beam, sending it first across the valley to here--" the dot on the lower left, "then to there--" sweeping the pointer to the upper right, "then over to here--" to the upper left, "and afterwards down to there--" to the lower right, "with a final boost back up to the city." A five-pointed figure is outlined in laser light as she speaks.

Mitchell snaps his fingers. "The Star in the Eye!"

"Exactly. As we found out the emplacements are essentially parabolic antennas designed to receive a laser beam and bounce it back and forth, creating a feedback loop amplifying the beam's energy. Judging by our initial assessment the emplacements looked fine but if any problems occur they have to be fixed right away before the beam discharges. So our timing has to be pretty accurate."

"Makes sense, but how do we communicate?" Sheppard asks. "Our individual sets don't have enough reach to go all the way across the valley."

"That's why we're setting up one of the longer range radio sets in the control room, using the base as a repeater."

Jack raises his hand. "So who are in those two-person teams you mentioned last time, Beck?"

"You and Sam will be in the northwest emplacement, Mac and Janet in the southeast. Carson and Radek, you'll be in the northeast, and John and Rodney, the southwest. Daniel and I will of course be in the tower's control room." Nods all around the table, no one disputing the pairings.

"And my duty, Becky Grahme?" Teal'c inquires.

"You'll be in the control room with us on the radio, relaying status updates and other information. And you guys," with a nod to Mitchell and Lorne, "are gonna help us put the system through its paces in your F-302s."

Mitchell grins. "Sure will, thanks to Mac's spiffy targets."

Becky leans forward intently, locking her gaze with each one of the team in turn. "I don't need to tell you guys how important this is. Our survival as a settlement may very well depend on making this work, and we only have one chance to do it right. Are there any questions?"

Not a single one. Everyone knows what they have to do, thanks to her extensive prep.

Hammond nods in satisfaction. "I can see my confidence in you has been well placed, Dr. Grahme. You have a go for the next phases of Operation Astria."

"Thank you, sir. We'll try not to disappoint."

"I'm sure you won't. Good luck, all of you. Dismissed."

The room breaks up. Daniel's hand comes to rest on the small of Becky's back, a light, reassuring yet intimate touch. He bends to whisper in her ear and she laughs, a soft tinkling sound. Her blue eyes sparkle as she beams up at him.

Back to normal.

Jack knew she could pull this off. Good for her.

Definitely his best idea. Ever.

****************

The control room lights up as usual at Becky's presence as she enters with Daniel and Teal'c. A quick glance at the monitors shows all systems active and ready.

Outside the window the Jumpers take off, one heading north, the other south. Both now including two ZPMs apiece as part of their precious cargo.

She turns away to face the room, biting her lower lip. Daniel's crouched on one side of the chair, connecting it to his laptop with a specially-adapted cable. Teal'c settles himself on a folding stool in front of the radio, talking to the base in his usual deep, measured tones.

She takes a deep breath, the morning's confidence vanishing. The past couple weeks were easy in comparison. This is another level entirely.

Too late to back out now, though.

Eventually the reports start coming in, one by one:

"O'Neill and Carter, in position."

"MacGyver and Fraiser, in position."

"Beckett and Zelenka, in position."

"Sheppard and McKay--"

"For the record let me say this is a terrible plan and it's going to blow up in so many awful ways, I just know it."

"Hell of a time to bring it up now. Why didn't you say so at the briefing?"

"Didn't want to upset her. I mean, she's obviously worked hard on this, not to mention letting me see that wonderful, sexy machine in the sub-basement."

"Why Rodney, one might almost think you're fond of her." She can practically hear the smirk in John's voice.

"I wouldn't say fond. I don't not like her, okay? There's a difference. Can we get on with this, already?"

"...Sheppard and McKay, in position."

"Becky Grahme," Teal'c informs her after contacting the base. "General Hammond says we can proceed when ready."

"Right." Sits down but instead of leaning back she hunches forward, hands rubbing nervously on her thighs.

This is it. The moment of truth.

Time to see if she's got what it takes to be a leader.

Yeah, right. Who's she kidding, anyway? She's not cut out for this.

All of a sudden it's too much. She swallows hard, mouth going dry as panic rises within, heart pounding faster, breathing in quick, ragged bursts. What a time for an anxiety attack.

In a flash Daniel's kneeling in front of her, cupping her face between his hands. "It's okay, Becky. I'm right here. Look at me. Take a deep breath in and slowly let it out...Another one...Another...There you go. Relax. You'll be fine." His voice soft and soothing, keeping her grounded.

"I'm scared," she whispers.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm with you every step of the way."

"As am I, Becky Grahme," Teal'c adds. "O'Neill and General Hammond have placed their confidence in you to lead this mission. I believe you are worthy of their trust. You will not let them down."

Such calm certainty in both their voices, she can't help but take heart.

Daniel kisses her gently then steps back, his hand lingering in hers. "Better now?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Kun shjaeana ya hubibi." A gentle squeeze before releasing her.

Okay. She can do this.

A few more deep, calming breaths, then she settles further back into the chair, her hands resting on the arms. For some reason it actually seems to fit her better these days, but there's no time to dwell on the fact.

She closes her eyes and slips into a familiar receptive state.

Contact.

The AI shimmers in her mind, amber and russet and clear pale gold.

~Ave, Domina.~

Hello, Huy-Braesealis. How are you?

~ I am well, thank you. I have been looking forward to this day. Are we ready to begin?~

Soon. How will I know everyone's in place?

~You will, I assure you.~

All right.

A moment of stillness, calm before the storm.

Here goes nothing.

****************

Daniel watches with trepidation as the chair lights up and tilts Becky back. He's putting on a brave front for her sake but inside harbors all manner of doubts. Ancient technology's something of a double-edged sword after all; there's still so much they don't know about it yet.

He frowns, thinking of Jack and his exposure to the Repository of Knowledge. How helpless he felt watching his friend slowly lose his mind, bit by bit.

Before leaving the base Janet and Carson insisted she wear a wireless monitoring patch over her heart, as an extra precaution while she's under. He checks the readings on his laptop, a separate window from the data coming off the chair. Everything normal, as far as he can tell.

Good thing he's not the only one looking out for her. Jack would never forgive Daniel if anything bad happened to her on his watch, to say nothing of Mac. Not that he'd blame them.

Hopefully this level of exposure won't cost his beloved her sanity in the long run.

Or her life, for that matter.

He gives himself a mental shake. No time to let his mind wander now. They have a mission to complete. The work comes first, as always.

Keep your feet on the ground, Danny.

So her mind can be in the stars. Or in the earth, or wherever she goes when she's under.

****************

One by one they come online as they sit in the chairs. A sense of surprise, then gradual acceptance of the link--

--not enough to complete the connection, however.

Without hesitation she reaches out. Touching adjacent minds, drawing them in, binding them together--

--completely laid open to each other, an onslaught of memories, hopes, dreams, fears--

--every good or bad quality, for better or for worse--

--loves them for all of it, even while struggling to remain afloat herself in the sudden tide, almost drowning--

Easy kiddo, we got you.

--an upwelling of friendship, support, approval, trust--

--bearing her up again--

--almost but not quite enough, one more component needed--

--earthy and warm yet cool and logical, a reservoir of endless patience and willingness to serve--

--and now it's enough.

~ Connection complete. Astria sto pro Oculo is active and ready to initialize, Domina. ~

Give me a status check on the emplacements, please.

~All in full functioning order. The laser awaits your command to fire once the potentias are installed.~

Very well. Okay folks, listen up. Give me a go/no-go for initialization. Jack and Sam?

Go.

Mac and Janet?

Go.

Carson and Radek?

Go.

John and Rodney?

Go.

Teal'c?

Go.

Daniel?

You're doing fine. Go.

Huy-Brasealis?

~All calculations made and double-checked, Domina. Recommend a go on your command.~

Teal'c, inform base we are go for initialization.

I will do so. A pause. General Hammond says to proceed when ready.

All right. On my mark insert ZPMs. Five...four...three...two...one. Mark!

ZPMs inserted. Consoles activated. Three sets of voices.

Hold on. Ours isn't activating.

What's wrong? Look Rodney, if we get the timing wrong on this--

Working on it. God, the wiring's a mess. The Ancients obviously had idiots for engineers.

Ten thousand years too late to complain. Sam, can you help him out?

Rodney, I'm looking inside my own console right now. {sending image} Does this help for comparison?

...Yes. Yes, it does... Okay, I think that's it. Ah, that's much better. Console activated.

Power thrums under her fingertips, just waiting to be unleashed.

Okay folks, here we go. Huy-Braesealis? Fiat astria.

~Yes, Domina. Firing laser.~

A flash of light, gaining in strength as it bounces around the reflective surface of the emitter, amplified through the crystal matrix--

--and she becomes the beam, shooting across the valley to Jack and Sam in the northwest--

Hey, kiddo. Come here often?

Hey, guys. How's it going?

Never better. Ready to move on?

--to Mac and Janet in the southeast--

Just like catching and throwing a baseball. Having fun, Beck?

Oh yeah. How about you two?

Having the time of our lives. See you later.

--over to Carson and Radek in the northeast--

There ye are, lass.

You guys all right?

Aye, we're fine. Time to go on now.

--then down to John and Rodney in the southwest--

Hey, little sister.

Hey, big brother. All good?

We're good. Ready for the big push?

--a massive surge of power back to the city--

Welcome back, hummingbird. I've missed you.

Missed you too, raven. Huy-Brasealis?

~Here, Domina. The Astria sto pro Oculo is now primed and ready. You may proceed with testing.~

Very well. Huy-Brasealis, activate aspida.

~Yes, Domina.~

Outside herself now. Floating in the center of the star, bathed in blue light.

Touches every point simultaneously--

--eleven distinct minds, linked together as one--

--intelligence, compassion, curiosity, friendship, awe, optimism, creativity, loyalty, kindness, hope--

--and above all else love--

--weaving it together into a protective shield encompassing the valley.

Teal'c? Go to the window, please. Be our eyes.

A star outlined in beams of shimmering blue light. Gradually expanding, transforming into a clear dome, fragile in appearance, like a soap bubble yet infinitely more resilient.

Good. Tell the base we're ready to proceed with the next phase.

"Huy-Brasealis to base."

"Go ahead, Huy-Braesealis."

"Phase Two is successful. Inform General Hammond we are prepared for the first part of Phase Three."

"Copy that, Huy-Braesealis. Base to Snakeskinners One and Two, you have a go."

"Copy that, base. Commencing attack run." Mitchell's voice.

What do you see now, Teal'c?

Two F-302s swoop down from the sky in attack formation. Bullets and energy beams are harmlessly absorbed by the impenetrable shield.

Get a load of that, folks. Is that sweet or what?

Indeed, O'Neill.

The shield's not even weakening. Which can't possibly happen, right? How is that happening?

It's the naquadah coating on the antennas, Rodney. Absorbing the energy generated by the attack and replenishing the shield with it at the same time.

What goes around comes around, huh Carter? This is so cool.

"Snakeskinner One to Base. Test is successful. Repeat, shield test is successful. Awaiting orders to deploy the targets."

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond says you may lower the shield now, but delay firing the ray until the targets have been deployed into orbit."

"Understood."

Huy-Braesealis, deactivate aspida.

~Yes, Domina.~

The shield disappears.

A surge of elation, a sense of accomplishment.

Man, if that's what the shield does I can't wait to see the big honkin' space ray in action. Let's fire it up, already.

Not yet, the targets have to be released in low orbit first. Patience is a virtue, remember?

{smirking} Yes, ma'am.

"Snakeskinner One to base. Targets have been deployed into low orbit and now drifting into position."

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond says you have a go to proceed."

Everyone ready?

Ready.

Huy-Brasealis, activate aktina.

~Yes, Domina.~

The laser fires again, bouncing between the five points even faster than before, generating more and more energy--

--until each point emits its own beam of light, suitably augmented with the additional energy stored in the naquadah coating of the antennas--

--converging right on her in the center.

Shudders rock her body, as though hit by lightning multiple times.

Janet, can you double-check these monitor readings for me? They're worrisome.

You're right, Daniel. Becky, are you okay? Your pulse and blood pressure both spiked for a moment.

I'm fine, all that energy hitting at once just startled me a little. Got it under control now.

Are you sure, lass? Do we need to abort?

No, Carson. I'm good.

First target's coming into range, Becky.

Thanks, John. Okay folks, let's do this.

Drawing on different feelings than before for this mode. Strength, honor, power, determination, courage, a fierce desire to protect what they have left--

--combining the beams together into a single huge, pulsing ray--

--propelling it up through the atmosphere towards the target--

--which explodes in a brilliant burst of actinic light. Shredded Mylar, duck tape and bamboo-like splinters rain down upon the planet, which immediately burn up upon reaching the atmosphere.

Holy Hannah! That's amazing.

You said it, Sam. Second target coming into range, Becky. Fire at will.

Another burst of energy, another spectacular explosion and shower of debris.

Sweet! Now that's what I call a big honkin' space ray. Becky, have I told you lately you're my favorite niece?

Glad you approve. What are the ZPM levels now, Rodney?

Drained by about a third. The energy collected in the antennas are completely depleted, however. No way they can fire a third time without needing to be recharged.

So we only get two shots per charging. Better than nothing, right? At least we know the system works now.

Oh yeah, it works.

"Snakeskinner One to base. Targets destroyed. Repeat, targets destroyed. And how!"

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond sends his compliments on a successful operation. You may return to base when ready."

"Understood. Huy-Braesealis out."

The mission has been accomplished in a most impressive manner. I believe it is time to return to the settlement and, as O'Neill would say, 'cool off our heels.'

I think you mean 'kick up our heels,' Teal'c. But I agree, it's time to celebrate.

Me too, Jan. Gotta admit this was pretty fun. My kind of mission. How about you, Sam?

Couldn't agree more, Mac. The Prometheus should be online soon, but now we have another means to defend ourselves.

And we didn't blow up after all! I have to admit it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience.

High praise coming from you, Rodney. I second that emotion.

I third it. Neuvěřitelný!

Aye, it was wasn't it? Well done, lass.

A general feeling of satisfaction in a job well done. Warm approval.

Aw, thanks guys. And thanks for your help too. Yours as well, Huy-Braesealis.

~My pleasure, Domina Turris. Might I recommend that it remains active in aspida mode for the time being, in light of your current situation? The potentias have more than enough capability to leave it running until the threat is resolved.~

Very well. Reactivate aspida.

The laser fires and the shield reforms, without anyone's intervention this time. As easily as that.

All right guys, show's over. Let's go home. Jack, mind giving us a lift back to base?

{chuckles} On our way, kiddo. Sit tight.

One by one the others drop out of the link, until only Becky and the AI remain.

~I am pleased the Astria sto pro Oculo performs according to specifications, Domina. I believe the original designers would have been as well.~

Glad to hear it. Thank you again for your help.

~My pleasure. I am ever at your command, kidemóna Nova Terranus. Until next time. ~

The chair returns her to an upright position, the lights going out.

A gentle touch on her arm. "Becky?"

Her eyes slowly open, blink several times before focusing on her beloved. "Daniel?"

He grins, relief replacing anxiety. "Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

She tilts her head, considering. "Yeah, I really am. How about that."

"I'm glad." He enfolds her in his arms, pulling her away from the chair. "I was so worried for a second."

"I know you were." She holds him tight. He murmurs soft words of love, his hands caressing, soothing. Their kisses all the sweeter for the shared experience.

"Becky Grahme, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says after a while. "O'Neill is here with the Jumper. It is time we returned to base."

High time indeed.

It's odd to not hear everyone's voices in her head anymore. Yet even now she still senses a faint connection tying her to them. She wonders if the feeling's mutual, unless it belongs only to her because she served as focus.

Either way she finds its presence as reassuring as that belonging to Huy-Braesealis.

****************

Becky frowns as the base comes into view. "Why is everyone outside on the landing field? What's going on?"

Jack smirks at her from the pilot's seat. "Doesn't surprise me a bit. After our little light show I'm betting it's the talk of the settlement."

"Oh god," she groans. "Just what I need."

The double doors of the Stargate hangar pull apart allowing Hammond followed by Walter, Gate technicians and SFs to hurry outside just as Jack lands the Jumper right where it had taken off that morning, Sheppard settling his craft neatly beside theirs. More scientists and military eagerly gather round, breaking into impromptu cheers and applause as the rear hatches open and the team steps out onto the tarmac.

Becky flushes at the attention, hanging back. "Um, you guys go ahead, okay?"

"Nothing doing, Beck," Jack says, pulling her forward. "You led this operation, you deserve to reap the benefits. Step up to the plate already." He nudges her ahead of them accompanied by gentle encouragement from the others. Grinning personnel clear a path between her and the waiting General.

Oh, what the hell. Have to admit it was kinda fun, leading this motley crew. Wouldn't mind doing it again sometime. 

She squares her shoulders and approaches. He nods to her. "Dr. Grahme."

"General Hammond," nodding her respect in turn. "Mission accomplished, sir."

"Well done." Breaking into a rare, warm smile. "Well done indeed."

"Thank you, sir," lifting her chin and standing up straighter. She's had more effusive praise when younger- from singing to gifting her handicrafts to getting good grades in school- but right now those simple words mean more to her than anything she's ever heard before.

Doesn't need to use her connection to feel her teammates' collective approval, either. They're smiling and applauding right alongside everyone else.

All because she chose to take a leap of faith. 

Her heart soars. Now she truly feels one of the SGC. Like she's doing her part.

Like she belongs here.

****************

The party's held the following night after everyone's taken a well-deserved rest and had the post-mission briefing. A festive mood prevails, laughter and snatches of song around the firepit in the center of the residential square along with occasional clinks and raising of Jack's latest brew and Ferretti's homemade grappa.

Ever since the settlement's earliest days people have been coming together on even the slightest pretext. To celebrate the fact they're alive for another day, and reassure one another they're not alone in the universe.

Tonight's party seems more festive than usual, however. But there's good reason, Daniel muses as he tips his head back to regard the faint rippling shimmer overhead, visible sign of an active shield in place. To be raised or lowered at the command of the Domina of Huy-Braesealis sitting next to him, laughing hysterically at the antics of Jack and Sam's impromptu swing dance.

There's a commendation from Hammond in their files now for service above and beyond. A successful mission indeed, yielding a significant measure of protection. 

Couldn't come at a better time considering the latest intel. Anubis is surely coming for them now, after decimating his rival System Lords. The SGC and New Earth are all that stands between him and galactic conquest.

Daniel gives himself a mental shake. No use worrying about a future that isn't here just yet. It's time to party down, as Jack might say.

A nearby table practically groans with the weight of rich plentiful food. Courtesy of Sergeant White and his staff who themselves went above and beyond coming up with every kind of snackable delight possible for the celebration, using a combination of edible native ingredients and Old Earth adaptations.

"My stomach's rumbling," Becky idly remarks. "You hungry?"

Daniel glances at her from his book, considering. Introvert habits die hard, and he knows she's carrying one in her jacket as well. "I could eat."

"I'll get us some food. Be right back."

She slips out of the chair which is occupied almost immediately by McKay, settling in for an intense discussion with Sam. He irritably waves away Becky's protests without even sparing her a glance when she returns with a full plate. Sam does though with a sheepish, apologetic shrug.

"Problem?" Daniel innocently inquires.

She grimaces. "No place to sit now, thanks to Rodney."

"Yes, there is."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

He sets the book aside and smiles, holding out a hand. "Here."

"Well since you put it that way." Sliding right onto his lap, which is where he intended her to be all along. Fitting together so easily, as if made for each other.

He sniffs appreciatively at the plate in her hand. "Mmm, I'm hungry."

"Then you'd better have something before it gets cold." She picks up a tidbit, offering it to him.

He takes a careful bite, briefly catching her fingertips between his lips. "Delicious," he murmurs, making sure with a sultry look he's talking about more than just the food.

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "You're nuts."

In reply he only feeds her a piece from the plate. She reaches out to caress his cheek before leaning in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Je t'aime, mon corbeau."

"Je t'aime aussi, ma colibri."

McKay glances at them, rolls his eyes. "God, you two. Get a room, already. And what's with bird names as endearments, anyway?"

Becky smirks at him. "None of your business, Rodney. Now shoo," making a waving motion with her free hand. He huffs and puffs a bit but complies.

Mac immediately takes his place, stretching out his long legs. "Man, thought he'd never leave. So Beck, how'd you like being in charge for once?"

"Not bad, all things considered. Gotta admit I enjoyed giving out orders for a change. Especially to Jack." Both he and Daniel chuckle. "Guess I need to do a better job figuring out a work/life balance, though."

Mac nods. "That'll come with practice. You'll do just fine next time."

A derisive snort. "If there is a next time."

"Oh, there will be," Sam asserts. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of missions to lead in the future, and not only concerning the city. What's more I hear General Hammond's going to offer you a permanent position on the ruling council as well."

Becky gapes at her. "You're kidding. Me?"

She nods. "The system's so integral to our defense now, you should have a voice. And you're our liaison with the city besides. It's time for you to take on more responsibility."

"I wish you were joking. I'm so not ready for that."

Mac chuckles. "Yes, you are. Time to come into your own, Beck. And even if you have problems, don't worry. We've all got your back."

"You do?"

"Of course," Daniel reassures her with a gentle caress. The modest flush he finds so endearing tints her cheeks.

"Attention, folks!" Jack balances on top of a rather unsteady chair, tapping a fork against the bottle in his hand. "First off I'd like to say thanks for coming tonight. While I usually just get together with my team after a successful mission I thought it only fitting to include the rest of you guys, considering what we accomplished together and all," gesturing upwards with more enthusiasm than caution, almost falling off the chair.

"Jack, for crying out loud control yourself," Mac suggests in a lazy drawl, sending a ripple of laughter through the crowd.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha. And now it's time for our fearless leader to say a few words--"

Becky utters a soft moan, ducking her head against Daniel's shoulder. "Why is he doing this to me? I'm gonna die."

"That's my department, isn't it?" he whispers, accompanied by a gentle nip to her earlobe. "Be brave, hummingbird. You can do this."

Sheppard and Mitchell start clapping and whistling, yelling "Speech! Speech!" She throws them a baleful glare and they grin back, unrepentant.

Grinning himself Jack comes over, yanks her up and away from Daniel's lap, practically carrying her back to the chair. "C'mon, kiddo. Your many admirers are waiting."

"Do I really have to?"

"It's what leaders do, Beck. Here, let me warm 'em up for you. Any of you guys heard the one about the Goa'uld, the Nox and the three-legged stool? See, there was this Nox--"

Boos and catcalls from Mac, Daniel and Ferretti drown him out, to everyone else's amusement.

Jack chuckles. "Okay, Beck. Your turn."

She rolls her eyes, leans over to him. Daniel's just close enough to hear her say, "You and your damn tricks. But thanks for giving me the chance to prove myself anyway."

"Glad to be of service, kiddo," patting her shoulder. "You did good, by the way. I'm proud of you."

Her cheeks flush with the compliment even as she takes a deep breath and turns to address the crowd. "Okay. Well, all I can say is I really appreciate the help of each and every one of you in carrying out this mission. I couldn't have done it without you. And I humbly apologize if I was too tough a boss on anyone."

"No problem, little sis," Sheppard calls out. "You can lead us anytime."

She ducks her head. "Yeah. Right. Anyway, that's it." Sergeant White and a helper carry a huge sheet cake to the table and she grins. "Though I do have one final order. In the immortal words of my uncle the colonel here," winking at Jack, "let them eat cake!" The group roars its approval.

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

****************

Past midnight now, the summer night big and quiet, soft lavender light trickling through the curtains.

The bedside lamp illuminates the cream-colored pages of Daniel's journal as he writes. One of his favorite nighttime rituals even as a boy, a way to organize his thoughts at the end of the day. Put everything in perspective.

A soft sigh beside him from Becky, curled on her side facing him, hair all mussed with sleep and wearing one of his faded university t-shirts. So much power within such a deceptively delicate frame. And yet she persists in thinking herself perfectly ordinary.

She's going to have an extraordinary ordinary life from now on, he's sure.

Daniel's secretly in awe of her though he tries hard not to show lest it freak her out. Imagine being able to touch other minds with ease, the unlimited power of a city ten thousand years old at her fingertips.

The Ancients obviously could do more with their minds than Ascension so perhaps the ATA gene carries potential for psychic ability as well. Not that Jack or his brother have shown any signs themselves but to date she has the strongest expression of anyone according to Carson.

Maybe the ability's been active in her the whole time, albeit at a very subtle level. It would explain her reliable gut feelings or the bond she shares with her uncles. Even his connection with her since Seattle, though he wouldn't trade what they have together for anything.

He wonders how easy it would be for Becky to abuse that in the name of protecting New Earth, the road to hell being paved with good intentions as the saying goes. With a shudder he recalls Shifu the Harsesis, all that terrifying power in the person of a little boy, the son of two Goa'uld hosts. Even in a dream the temptation to use it was almost too hard to resist.

Nevertheless would Jack be willing to take down his own niece for the greater good? Could Daniel himself handle having to decide between her and the settlement? Is that a choice he's even prepared to make?

God. Enough already, it's a fate not worth contemplating. He's lost one beloved already at the hands of vain, spiteful alien parasites. He won't lose another to Ancient technology and unpredictable psychic talents if he can help it.

"Penny for your thoughts." Becky's voice startles him, soft as it is for the late hour.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nah. Couldn't sleep. Too keyed up after the party, I guess." She sits up, leans against his shoulder. "Have you always kept a journal?"

"All my life it seems, since I knew how to write in full sentences. I was pretty precocious as a kid."

"So was I. Never could get the hang of journaling myself, though."

"Really? I find that hard to believe, considering how much you love words."

She shrugs. "Too hard to write in one left-handed, you know? Not to mention it just felt so awkward putting my thoughts down on paper where I could see them. Besides, my handwriting's lousy."

"As bad as Jack's?" Recalling his friend's rather messy scrawl.

A wry smile. "Okay, maybe not that bad. Nothing I'd care to inflict on future generations, though." Her gaze turns inward. "Ever since we got back from the city I've been thinking about this..." vaguely waving her hand, "this talent I apparently have. Reaching other minds. How easy it would be to force people to do things against their will if I wanted. Why, I could start fancying myself a System Lord if I'm not careful." She shudders.

"I've been wondering the same," he admits, "but I don't think you'll ever become like them. Not at all."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely. Would I lie to you?" with his best wide-eyed innocent expression which makes her laugh.

"Okay, but seriously--"

He stops her with a finger to her lips. "I mean it. The fact you have concerns about misusing your new position as Domina or any mental ability you have is a good sign. There's no doubt in my mind you'll do the right thing no matter what."

"I'm touched by your faith in me. Wish I had some."

"I have enough for both of us." He caps the pen, setting it and the journal aside on the nightstand, placing his glasses on top. Turning off the light he faces her, one arm sliding easily around her waist as they snuggle together against the pillows, heads just touching. "So proud of you," he says softly, playing with a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "My beautiful Lady of the Tower."

"God," she groans, rolling her eyes. "Don't you start."

"Why not? It's what the AI called you. Domina Turris."

"Because it freaks me out, that's why. People keep staring at me wherever we go in the settlement. Some even bow, for crying out loud! Bad enough they already think I'm some kind of a prophet because I bore Witness to the end of Old Earth. But now?" She grimaces. "The very idea of me being considered divine in any fashion makes me sick to my stomach. I mean, do I really look like I should be worshiped or something?"

He's secretly relieved at the aggravated tone in her voice. A good head on her shoulders, as Jack might say. No need to worry about Goa'uld-like delusions of grandeur from her.

He takes her hand, kisses it reverently. "Every inch of you, and as often as possible." Lips trail up her arm, along the shoulder up to her neck. He lingers at the pulse point, feeling the life beating there.

"You're nuts." She says it fondly, winding her arms around his neck, running fingers along his scalp in a way that sends shivers through him. "To be honest I'd rather be worshiping you."

"Maybe we need some mutual divine inspiration then, hmm?" Their lips meet, warm and tender. "Love you, hummingbird."

"Love you too, raven."

Then no more need for words, only a sweet giving and receiving of their shared passion for one another.

Afterwards Daniel cradles Becky in his arms, both of them spent and replete. Feeling grateful at the remarkable turn his life has taken. How lucky he is to have found his soulmate, between the end of one world and the beginning of another.

He can't imagine life without his jewel-bright, quick-witted hummingbird. So comfortable together, almost like a married couple. Might as well be for real after the surprise native ceremony on PX7-248, to Jack's infinite amusement.

Which isn't a bad idea, now he thinks about it. They do seem to keep each other grounded.

But he won't bring it up anytime soon. It's only been a month since she moved in, after all. Wouldn't want to spook her any.

Besides, he's content with things as they are. Thriving in each other's company. Loving and working side by side. Being there for his beloved as much as possible, as she is for him.

Savoring the calm before the coming storm.

Chapter Text

"Wow," Jack says softly, awestruck. "Would you look at those."

"I know, right?" Becky feels a quiet satisfaction. It doesn't take much to impress him these days.

They lean against the catwalk railing, staring out into the shadowy depths of a giant underground chamber easily the length of two football fields. Tall racks stretch almost to their height and far out into the darkness, row upon row of what vaguely resembles Old Earth squids or jellyfish, albeit in a futuristic streamlined sort of way: three feet long with rounded yellow heads and small spikes jutting out to the rear, culminating in a silvery base with six long tendrils trailing behind.

Below them machines work on assembling the latest batch. No clue where the components are coming from but presumably they've been in storage for millennia, just waiting for the manufacturing program to be activated.

The irony of the situation's not lost on her. She's a pacifist, for crying out loud. Who knew her presence would be so essential for creating weapons of mass destruction?

"Ya know," he says, "when we talked this morning about some uncle-niece time I assumed you wanted to go fishing. I had no idea you were gonna show me something so cool."

"Huy-Braesealis told me the city's manufactory was working on something, but had no idea what it was until yesterday. He thought you might want to see this."

"Thoughtful of him. So what did you call these earlier?"

"Arma pabula fucus. Drone weapons, basically. Apparently an automatic program implemented this as a contingency soon as I accessed the chair for the first time."

"Gotta love those contingencies. We should have outings like this more often."

"Maybe we should." Becky looks askance at her uncle, studying his profile. Familiar rugged good looks, lines on his face comprised of laughter, concern and years of holding in secrets that don't need to be anymore. Brown hair fading quickly to silver. Left eyebrow bisected by a faint scar, one injury among many over the course of his long career in the Air Force.

He catches her looking, smirks. "Not bad for an old guy, huh? Got anything else you wanna show me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." She leads him along the catwalk to a platform with a console and chair similar to those in the Astria emplacements. "Have a seat," keeping her voice as casual as she can. "Huy-Braesealis wants to say hi."

His brow furrows. "Why?"

"Because he thinks you ought to be in charge of the drones."

"And not you?"

She shrugs. "I'll have my hands full with the Astria. Besides you're a pilot, and good at strategy and tactics. Sit down already. It won't hurt."

"Easy for you to say," he mutters but sits anyway. The chair lights up and tilts him back. He closes his eyes and Becky wonders if Daniel's ever felt this anxious when she goes under.

Without warning one of the nearest drones activates, glowing a soft yellow. It smoothly glides out of its hexagonal cradle and approaches her, forcing her back step by step against the railing.

She swallows, sending a mental request to Huy-Braesealis for an override. Receiving only a wordless denial and distinct feeling of amusement for a reply.

The drone inches forward just enough to gently nudge her leg, tendrils waving slightly in the cool air, for all the world like a cat wanting to be petted. She gives an awkward pat to the surprisingly warm surface. "Um, good kitty?" As if satisfied it backs away and returns to its slot, going inert.

The chair restores Jack to a sitting position, lights shutting off. His eyes open and twinkle in mischief as he smirks at her.

She folds her arms and glares at him. "Not funny."

"Really? Not even a little? Thought it was pretty cute myself."

"Not even a little. How was your chat?"

"Interesting. Might've been imagining things but he kinda sounds like your dad."

"Yeah, I noticed. Guess he picked it up from my mind during the initial contact. So he filled you in on the specs?"

Jack stands up and stretches. "Oh, yeah. Showed me a simulation and everything. These suckers pack more punch than any ballistic missile I've ever seen. Real sweet. Lots more precise than the aktina, too."

"Makes sense, considering that system's intended for defense only. These are more for offense."

"I like that, shield and sword. Good thing ol' Huey-Braiser is on our side, huh?"

"That's Huy-Braesealis," she corrects him absently.

"Always a stickler for detail, aren't ya?"

"Details are important," she informs him in an arch manner. They grin at each other.

And then the whole absurdity of where they are and what they're doing hits like a ton of bricks. Her sudden laughter carries a note of hysteria.

He touches her lightly on the shoulder, brow furrowed. "Beck, you okay? I mean, you're not going nuts on me or anything, are ya?"

"Might as well be, all things considered. Three years ago I was happily working for the Phoenix Foundation and my biggest concerns were if Mac would ever pop the question to Nikki Carpenter and what you'd do with yourself when you retired from the Air Force for good. Now I'm living on a different planet somewhere in the Milky Way and taking part in its defense, just by sitting in a chair and thinking about it."

"Does sound pretty wacko when you put it that way."

"Yeah. For all my reading sci-fi and daydreaming as a kid I never once believed this kind of scenario could happen for real. Or that I'd be part of something bigger, much less on a cosmic scale."

"Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. Gotta admit you've taken to this stuff a lot better than I expected. I'm real proud of you, kiddo."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," kissing her on the forehead. "You're doing a great job so far. Especially with keeping Daniel in line."

She rolls her eyes but can't help flushing as usual at the praise.

They're having a heart-to-heart deep below a city thousands of years old. Talk about weird.

Both of her uncles have a well-earned reputation for keeping things close to the vest. Becky's keenly aware she's one of the rare few allowed access beyond their self-imposed shields as it is, learning how to interpret the various flavors of their stoicism- the more distant or closed-off, the worse their physical or emotional pain. She tries hard not to betray their trust.

Jack's never spoken of his covert missions to anyone, before or after Zero Hour. But she's heard the rumors around the base, the black ops he did before the Stargate Program that make even the most battle-hardened marines look at him obliquely. The awe in their voices is remarkably similar to how people at the Phoenix Foundation spoke of Mac's talent for improvisation and luck at survival, now she thinks about it.

She's proud of their heroics but at the same time grateful she knows them differently, as the sweetheart uncles who never failed to cheer her up and provide endless comfort and support when she needed it most. They still know her better than Daniel, and somehow they love her anyway.

Weirder yet is hearing people around the settlement call her Witness and Lady of the Tower with the same awe- even reverence- in their voices as if she's especially blessed or something. Which is ridiculous since both titles came to her by pure happenstance.

And it's not like she asked to be saddled with a Destiny, either. All she's wanted since arriving on this world is to have a quiet, peaceful life surrounded by her loved ones, working behind the scenes in support while everyone else saves the day. She's no hero, for crying out loud.

"Lost in your thoughts again, huh?"

She blinks in surprise, looking up at Jack's knowing smirk. "Um, yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay, I'm used to it with Danny." He checks his watch. "Really appreciate the outing but we oughta return to base. Got time for some cake with me in the mess before getting back to work?" 

"God, yes. I need to fortify myself before tonight's council meeting, especially if Williams is gonna be there."

"The guy behind the Witness Society thing?"

"Yeah, a real nutjob. Gives me the creeps."

"All that highfalutin prophesy talk's not going to your head then?"

She makes a face. "Absolutely not. I don't mind people believing as they please, but I'd really rather it didn't involve me. You'd think folks have better things to do than worship me as some sort of prophet or savior, you know?"

"I hear ya, Beck. It's sad to see how many prefer to seek irrational explanations or solutions to their problems instead of relying on their own common sense. Can't tell you how many civilizations I've seen out there convinced the Goa'uld are literally gods just because of their glowing eyes and impressive tech."

"I bet. Reminds me of a quote by Arthur C. Clarke."

"You mean the one that goes, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'?"

Becky smirks up at him. "You know Uncle Colonel, you're smarter than you look."

He taps the side of his nose with a finger. "Let's keep it between ourselves, okay? Wouldn't be good for my reputation if word ever got out."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I know how much you enjoy playing the dumb flyboy."

"Pretty perceptive, for my favorite niece."

"I better be." As deadpan as Jack can get, though her lips twitch in amusement.

He laughs and gives her hair an affectionate ruffle. "C'mon, let's get outta here. The General's gonna be tickled pink when he hears about this."

****************

"So in conclusion, sir," Major Alvarez says at the council meeting, "the emergency shelters are ready to use in case of attack or natural disaster, barring a few refinements here and there."

"Thank you for your report, Major," Hammond says from his seat. "That's excellent news. If there's no other new business I declare this meeting adjourned. We'll reconvene in one month, barring any significant developments. Thank you for your attendance, ladies and gentlemen." He bangs the gavel on the table.

Becky stands and stretches, looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower, late supper and some serious cuddling in bed with her beloved archaeologist.

~Domina, my apologies for the interruption but there is an urgent matter you must attend to.~

That's all right, Huy-Braesealis. What is it?

~My sensors have detected an issue with the aspida. The potentia in the southwest emplacement has been losing energy at an unexpected rate for a month and is now almost depleted.~

Great. Will it explode?

~No. But the aspida will need to be deactivated, as a safety measure.~

Are there any redundancies in place, to keep the shield active during repairs?

~I regret there are none, Domina. I did inform you the system had never before been tested. The designers had no idea this would become a possibility.~

Yes, you did. And I failed to take it under consideration. I'm sorry.

~No apology necessary. I recommend bringing someone with you who has the technical knowledge to perform a repair, perhaps one of those who participated in the initialization of the system, along with another potentia at full power. I can have one manufactured if you like.~

No, I know where we have a spare, that'll save me an extra trip. All right, go ahead and shut it down. Thank you for alerting me.

~Your servant, Domina.~  A pause. ~The aspida is now deactivated.~

Shouts of surprise and alarm from outside the building.

"Dr. Grahme. A moment of your time, please?"

Becky sighs. Talk about timing.

She steels herself before turning to face the one man she's been trying to ignore throughout the evening. The Rev. Stuart Williams, florid and pot-bellied with a receding hairline. Former minister of a suburban church outside of Colorado Springs, who apparently underwent a religious conversion after hearing her speak at the Memorial.

A perpetual pain in the neck, not to put too fine a point on it.

"Reverend Williams." She always tries to keep her tone formal and distant, in the hopes of discouraging him. It never works.

"I was hoping you might say a few words at the Witness Society meeting next restday. It would be a shame if another opportunity passes by without reaping the benefits of your wisdom." The ingratiating tone makes her stomach churn.

"Look, for the last time I have absolutely no interest nor desire to participate in anything you've got set up. I happened to become Witness by pure chance, nothing more. It doesn't make me any sort of prophet."

Williams' unctuous smile and the fanatical light in his eyes set her teeth on edge. "Divinity moves in mysterious ways, my dear. You've been granted a vision, like the prophets of Old Earth. I have faith all will be revealed in due time. Good evening, Dr. Grahme."

Becky resists the impulse to splutter as he strolls off. The guy's absolutely nuts.

"I see what you mean about giving you the creeps." Jack comes up to her, hands casually in pockets. He's been shadowing Hammond during the meeting, and she envies the way he managed to look both interested and bored at the same time. Obviously a talent acquired over the course of many briefings; she'll have to ask him to teach her the knack one of these days.

"You don't know the half of it. Hey, can I borrow Sam and one of the Jumpers for a while in the morning?"

"Don't see why not. What's going on?"

"Apparently there's something wrong with the southwest emplacement."

He frowns a little but doesn't ask how she knows. Smart man. "Noticed the shield was down. That's the one McKay had trouble with during initialization, right?"

"Yeah. I need Sam to check out the console."

"Sure. I'll let her know."

"Thanks. Make sure she brings the spare full-power ZPM she's got in the lab along with her toolkit and laptop and meet me at the Jumper pad around 0930, okay?"

He cocks his head, amused. "You sure like giving orders these days, don't ya?"

"I learned from the best," she quips lightly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Aunt Sam gets back to you safe and sound."

"Now Beck, you know she's not your aunt," sternly but with a decided twinkle in his eye.

She smirks right back at him. "Not yet, anyway."

He chuckles. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Nah, you don't have to. Shouldn't take us long, we'll be back in time for lunch. What you ought to do is stay here and study up on swarming behavior, to control those drones effectively. Now escort me home, Colonel, if you please."

He grins, offering his arm. "Yes, ma'am."

****************

"McKay didn't do too bad a job, all things considered," Sam says, her voice echoing from deep within the console. "Though a few wires are still crossed here and there. Luckily there wasn't a power surge during the testing phase."

"I'll refrain from pointing that out next time I see him," Becky dryly remarks. "He'd go ballistic if he knew you had to fix one of his quick fixes."

"Oh yeah, it'd be like correcting one of his equations. He'd have a heart attack for certain."

"Can't believe he called you a dumb blonde once. That must've made you mad."

"I'm used to it, unfortunately. Some men can't help but feel threatened by both my intellect and the fact I'm a woman in the military with a successful career as an officer. Believe me, I've faced off against far worse than Rodney McKay's insults."

"I'm sure you have. All I'm saying is I hate the thought of others putting you down despite your accomplishments."

"That's just the way it is, Becky. I try not to take it too personally."

"I don't think I could, if I were in your shoes. I mean, it's not only the insults that bother me but also the ignorance and small-mindedness behind them, you know? Good thing we've got a second chance to ensure that doesn't happen to anyone else."

"Absolutely. We can always hope for better." Sam pulls away from the console, closes the lid and replaces the depleted ZPM with the fully-loaded spare from the lab. The console lights up and she consults her laptop. "Looks good so far, I think we've got it. Why don't you see if you can reactivate the shield from here?"

"Sure." She sits in the chair, slipping into a familiar receptive state.

Nothing.

Huy-Braesealis?

~Apologies, Domina. I regret to inform you the aspida can only be reactivated from the primary control chair.~

Understood. Thank you.

~At your service, Domina.~

"Any luck?" Sam asks when Becky opens her eyes.

"Nope. Can't do it from here. We'd better get to the city."

"Right." Sam collects her toolkit.

Becky picks up the carrying case for her, now containing the depleted ZPM. Once outside the emplacement she pauses to take in the view of the valley from the landing pad, disguised as a rough stone ledge to match the mountain's surface. The southern edge of the settlement just barely visible off to the northwest, farmsteads around it growing both native and adapted crops. The Hammond River leisurely winding its way through the valley, the eastern range a dim smudge off in the distance.

All of it reminds her powerfully of where she grew up in Oregon. Probably why she feels more at home on this alien planet than most people, even after three years of acclimation.

There's a touch of warmth in the air as well, native flora and fauna showing signs of life after their winter dormancy. Time for the Spring Awakening festival in a week, akin to the Lunar New Year back on Old Earth. Should be fun, something to celebrate after months of cold and dark.

"Nice day, huh?"

"Sure is. Thanks for coming with me. I like spending time with my favorite future aunt," grinning at her.

Sam chuckles. "Don't get your hopes up. I mean, I really enjoy being with Jack but we're not talking marriage anytime soon. Besides, what about Janet?"

"Her, too. Nothing says I can't have two favorite aunts, right? Hopefully Mac will work up the nerve one day to pop the question. And if Jack ever does--"

"You'll be the first to know, I promise."

"Thanks. I just want you guys to be happy, that's all. You're so good for each other. I'm really looking forward to you being my aunt as well as a friend."

Sam gently squeezes her shoulders in a little hug. "I'm looking forward to having you as a niece too. Now let's head to the city and get the shield back up."

"Absolutely. Jack said he'll hide both the blue and green jellos if I don't have you back on base by lunchtime."

"We'd better hurry then. That's a serious threat, coming from him. Remind me to tell you sometime about an AI on P4X-884 who got us to do some crazy things, like eat every dessert on base."

"Name of Urgo, right? Bet he drove you guys right up the wall."

"Oh, you've no idea..."

Uncle-niece bonding is important. But so is spending quality time with a prospective aunt, too.

****************

The Jumper's three-quarters of the way across the valley when the radio crackles to life. "Base to Jumper One. Jumper One come in, please."

Her hands busy at the controls, Sam nods at Becky in the co-pilot's seat to answer. "Jumper One here."

"What's your location, Jumper One?"

"En route to the city, finishing repairs on the shield."

"Change of plans, Jumper One. Return to base immediately. Repeat, return immediately. Direct order from General Hammond."

"Copy that, base. On our way." She shares an uneasy look with Sam, who shrugs and obediently turns the shuttlecraft away from the mountains.

A sudden shiver tickles along Becky's spine. This is it. Anubis and his fleet are here.

If only they could've gotten the shield up first.

****************

The conference room's packed. Jack has no idea why the General's called this urgent meeting but his gut feeling says he should cancel his fishing trip with Mac in the afternoon.

Daniel comes up beside him, followed by Teal'c. Becky and Carter appear in the doorway, regarding the room with thinly-veiled apprehension.

Jack waves them over. "Got the shield working yet?"

"Yes and no," Becky grimly replies. "The console's working fine but apparently it can't be reactivated from the emplacement, only the main control chair. We were on our way to the city when the call came in. What's going on?"

"We'll soon find out," nodding over at Hammond by the doorway talking to an aide before assuming his customary place at the head of the table, briskly acknowledging everyone's salutes and nods.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he begins without preamble, "a short time ago Goa'uld vessels have been detected emerging from hyperspace near the edge of the solar system. At their current speed we should be expecting the first wave of attack within the next few hours."

A ripple of unease throughout the room. He lifts his hand and it subsides. "We've known this day would come for some time. There are already procedures in place and you've all participated in countless drills for this contingency."

Carter raises her hand. "Sir, what about the Prometheus?"

"As far as we know it's en route from Alpha Base via hyperspace. Until it arrives we'll have to depend solely on what defenses we immediately have to hand."

"What about the shield, sir?" another voice calls out. "It's been down since last night. We've all noticed."

Becky flushes slightly and looks down at the floor, as if it were her fault somehow.

"Our liaison with the city has that well in hand," Hammond says smoothly. "Everyone report to their assigned duty stations to begin final preparations. I am confident we can meet this challenge as we have with every other we've faced before and after Zero Hour, with courage and a determination to protect our new home with everything that's in us. Dismissed."

As the rest of the room disperses he gestures Jack and Becky over. Carter, Daniel and Teal'c lag behind with varying expressions of curiosity. "Dr. Grahme, how soon can you get the shield back online?"

"As soon as I can get to the city and in the control chair, sir."

"And you have control of the drone weapons, is that right Colonel?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Please head for the city with the rest of your team in all due haste. It is vital we have those defenses in place when the fleet arrives. Good luck, both of you." An airman comes up to him with a clipboard and he turns to the business at hand.

"O'Neill," Teal'c says unexpectedly, "I would like to stay behind and assist in the defense of the base."

"Fine by me if you think you can do more good here than with us, T. Let me tell ya though, you don't know what you're missing."

"I can surmise. I would merely be a superfluous circular object, of no immediate usefulness."

Becky bites her lower lip in an effort not to giggle. "I think you mean a spare wheel."

"Indeed."

Jack can't help but smile.  "C'mon, the rest of you. Let's suit up."

****************

A klaxon wails and the PA crackles to life. "Your attention please. This is General-Governor Hammond. An invasion force is inbound to New Earth. Noncombatants and their families should seek the nearest underground shelter and remain there until given the all-clear. This is not a drill. Repeat, invasion is imminent, seek shelter immediately."

Personnel trade uneasy glances but remain oddly composed. MacGyver wonders just how often they experienced life-or-death situations back under Cheyenne Mountain for this to be nothing new.

He's surprised he's not panicking himself, being his first alien invasion and all. Instead he feels the same frisson of excitement and readiness for anything that always preceded a mission for the DXS or Phoenix Foundation.

As if deep down he's finally accepted the whole crazy sci-fi premise that's become his life in the past few years.

An air of controlled chaos pervades the base as personnel resume making their preparations. In each corner of the main compound Marines set up sandbags around temporary emplacements containing ground-to-air rocket launchers and the like, in case one of those death gliders ventures too close to the hangar containing the all-important Gate.

Becky, Jack, Sam and Daniel emerge from a door, suited up and mission-ready. Teal'c follows behind without his own kit for once.

Mac jogs over to meet them. "You guys heard the news?"

Jack nods. "On our way to the city now."

"Need backup or anything?"

"Nope. We're good, thanks." A brotherly clap on the shoulder. "You're better off here, especially if something's gotta be invented in a hurry. Besides, Janet could probably use some help in the infirmary once casualties start coming in."

"Good point." Not like he's willing to carry a weapon anyway, invasion or no.

A sudden flash of light and a figure appears in the middle of the compound draped head to toe in black robes, a dark void under the hood where a face would normally be.

One of the nearby marines lunges forward in a foolish effort to grab him but winds up hitting the dirt for his trouble. Must be a projection.

"I am Anubis," the figure announces. "Humans of the Tau'ri, your end of days finally approaches."

"Hate to break it to ya," Jack mutters, "but been there, done that and we're still alive and kicking."

"There will be no mercy," Anubis drones on. "You will bow to my awesome power. There is nothing that can stop the destruction I bring upon you. Prepare to meet your doom." The image disappears.

If anything the pronouncement only encourages people to work faster. No time for fear and panic now.

Jack snorts. "For crying out loud. Is the guy a living cliché or what? Let's get goin', campers. The sooner we can shut him up for good the better."

He heads briskly in the direction of the Jumper landing pad, Sam and Daniel hot on his heels. But Becky hesitates, biting her lip. "Unc--"

"Hey, don't worry about a thing," Mac says, giving her a quick reassuring hug. "You got this. See ya when you get back."

She flashes him a grateful look and easily catches up to the others, matching their longer strides despite her shorter legs.

If there's anything he's proudest of in his life it's her. There's no denying she's equal to any challenge set before her, and he had a hand in making that happen. He feels a warm satisfied glow at the thought.

"You should be rightfully proud of your che'sula, MacGyver," Teal'c says beside him. "She possesses a warrior's spirit though she walks the path of a scholar. Much like Daniel Jackson and yourself."

He grins at the Jaffa. "You bet I'm proud. C'mon, let's see what we can do around here to lend a hand."

****************

The flight's conducted in silence save for significant looks shared with each other from time to time, volumes communicated without uttering a single word.

For which Becky's grateful, her stomach tied up in knots as it is. She no longer harbors doubts of her competency in dangerous situations, nor of her place within the SGC. What bothers her now is knowing the four of them in this one small ship might be all that makes the difference between victory and defeat, for their settlement in particular and the galaxy as a whole. If they can't stop Anubis in his tracks no one can.

About halfway to the city the Jumper comes under attack, shaking with the impact of every hit. Three roughly crescent-shaped fighters hover into view.

Goa'uld death gliders.

Jack curses. "Carter, get shields up and weapons online."

In the co-pilot's seat Sam pushes buttons, flips switches. "Fire when ready, sir."

He does and one explodes in a most satisfying manner. Becky feels like cheering.

The return hits from the others are mercifully absorbed by the shields, but not without more rattling.

"Mind getting us to the city in one piece, Jack?" Daniel's knuckles are as white as hers from gripping the sides of his chair.

"Don't you know by now I hate back-seat drivers, Danny? Hang tight kids, I'll shake 'em off." A series of turns and dives above the Harriman River- a tributary of the Hammond River coming from the east- leave Becky reeling. She'd be losing her lunch and then some if it weren't for inertial dampeners provided by the Asgard.

It soon becomes clear the glider pilots are as good as Jack, keeping pace with his every move. They fire and the Jumper rocks with a particularly well-placed blast.

"That took out our shields, sir," Sam says.

"And I'm out of ammo, too. Dammit!"

Becky swallows, sharing a concerned look with Daniel. He reaches for her hand, squeezes. She squeezes back. That will have to do for I love you, if they don't make it.

Not likely they will at this rate, as vulnerable as they've become despite Jack's best efforts. More hits like that and they're done for.

Just as she begins to despair two F-302s swoop down behind the gliders, blasting them out of the sky. Talk about timing.

"Never fear, the Snakeskinners are here!" Cameron exclaims gleefully over the radio. Becky could kiss him right now, even with her beloved sitting nearby.

"But you're with the Prometheus!" Sam exclaims. "It must have just emerged from hyperspace."

"You better believe it. Engaging the enemy as we speak."

"Sweet," Jack says. "Any more on our tail, Mitchell?"

"Three more gliders and an Al'kesh on the radar. Don't worry Colonel, we'll keep 'em away from you."

"Appreciate it."

"Blue Two to Blue Leader." Lorne's voice on the radio. "The gliders and the Al'kesh have veered off to the west. They must be headed for the base."

"Dammit. Quit lollygagging and get outta here, Mitchell. Don't let 'em near the place!"

"Copy that, sir. Good luck in the city." The F-302s do identical barrel rolls to the left and veer off.

"Showoffs," Jack grumbles good-naturedly. "All right campers, landing in five minutes. Let's hit the ground running."

****************

The tower doors open at Becky's proximity without her even having to touch and murmur the password- a new development, but one she barely notices right now. They hurry through the corridors and into the central atrium, only pausing long enough to catch their breaths.

"Get that shield back up quick as you can," Jack says before they split off. "I'll release the drones soon as you say it's good."

"Will do." On impulse she gives Sam and Jack a swift hug each. "Good luck, both of you."

He drops a kiss on top of her head. "You too, kiddo. Danny--"

"I know, Jack. Look after her or you'll kill me." Almost fondly.

"Got it in one. See ya later."

****************

Becky winces at the distant sounds of aerial battle outside as they enter the control room, imagining the collateral damage done on both sides in the attempt to keep the enemy ships away from the settlement.

The long-awaited invasion is here. Everything could be lost at any moment.

If ever there was a time to be brave, it's now.

Yet before she sits in the chair there are things she must tell her beloved before it's too late. Like how very much she loves him, how she can't live without him. How she wants to marry him someday, raise a family, grow old together.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. They've never talked about their future yet (if there is one), and she's afraid he's not ready to hear what she has to say.

Fortunately actions speak louder than words.

She settles for grabbing the collar of Daniel's jacket, tugging him down to her level, covering his mouth with hers for a long and deep kiss. His eyes widen in momentary surprise then he returns it with equal fervor, arms wrapping around to hold her tight. The urgency of the situation, the underlying fear only makes it hotter.

Reluctantly they pull apart, breathing heavily.

"I..." she swallows, tries again, "I just want to say--"

"I know. Me, too." A gentle kiss to her forehead. "Ready?"

"Ready."

She sits and closes her eyes. The chair leans her back.

Better get to work.

Contact, the familiar colors of the AI shimmering in her mind.

~Ave, Domina.~

What's the status of the southwest emplacement now, Huy-Braesealis? 

~Fully functioning. Ready to engage Astria on your order.~

Then do so.

~Firing laser. The system is now primed and ready.~

She reaches out, same as during initialization--

--finds Jack in the other chair, awaiting orders.

Testing, testing. One, two, three. Hey, is this thing on?

I hear you. Are the drones ready to go?

Barely keeping 'em restrained as it is. Just let me know when to let go of the leash, and the sooner the better.

Understood.

Two minds are better than one for this task, but it's not enough.

She reaches for two adjacent minds, linking them together, holding on with fierce intensity, even so not enough--

--until one more element is added to the mix.

Huy-Braesealis?

~Connection complete, Domina. The enemy fleet is moments away from orbiting the planet. Soon the first wave of fighters will cross the boundary between outer space and the upper atmosphere.~

What do you think I should do, Uncle Jack?

Your call, Beck. Raise the shield or release the drones. You're in charge.

Gee, thanks for reminding me. Huy-Braesealis, activate aspida.

~Yes, Domina.~

No need to see out the window this time. They can recall the star outlined in beams of shimmering blue light, expanding upwards into a clear dome.

Just in time, too.

Death gliders rapidly descend from the upper atmosphere, firing staff cannons in their strafing runs. The aspida performs just like in the test, absorbing the energy generated by the attack and strengthening itself with replenished reserves at the same time. Several even dive bomb the shield in the hopes of damaging it head on, only to explode on impact.

Will you look at that! Thing of beauty, I tell ya.

We're not out of the woods yet, sir. More gliders and Al'kesh coming in the second wave, along with the first of the Ha'taks.

The shield holds steady as the invasion redoubles their efforts, until an Al'kesh unexpectedly crashes into the western mountain range and it flickers.

Not a good sign.

Huy-Braesealis? What happened?

~The ship crashed not far from the northwest emplacement, Domina.~

Any survivors? Is the emplacement all right?

~No survivors, Domina. Minimal damage sustained to the emplacement, though the aspida remains intact for now.~

Sure rattled the shield, though. Let's hope no one else has the same idea.

A second crash by the southeast emplacement, another flicker.

You and your big mouth, Jack.

Daniel...

Guys, don't start. But suggestions would be welcome.

~Domina, the power stored in the emplacements is almost depleted and potentia levels are decreasing rapidly. It will not hold for much longer, and I fear no reserves will remain even for aktina mode if it is not deactivated soon.~

He's right, Becky. Dropping the shield and releasing the drones is our best option.

Agreed, Sam. Huy-Braesealis, deactivate aspida and activate the arma pabula fucus.

~Yes, Domina.~ The shield winks out. ~Armas are awaiting orders to launch.~

Through the AI and Jack she senses the drones in their cradles, active and fully energized. Ready to fulfill their purpose.

You're the sword, Uncle Jack. Fire away. Do avoid anything belonging to us, okay?

Yes, ma'am. Launching 100 drones...200...300...400...500 away. Multiple targets.

~Domina, I can provide an exterior view if you would like to see their progress.~

Please do.

A constant stream of drones- half-transparent, glowing golden from within- emerge from concealed underground shafts around the tower, streaking upwards--

--deftly avoiding the Prometheus and the F-302s--

--piercing the invading fleet, hitting their targets with precision only a trained pilot can achieve--

--cutting the enemy fleet to shreds by filling every nook and cranny--

--then exploding simultaneously.

Sweet!

Next wave approaching, sir.

Got it, Carter. Launching 500 more. Man, look at 'em go.

You're enjoying this way too much, Jack.

You bet, Danny. This is so cool!

~Colonel, I must remind you it will take the city many months to manufacture replacements if you continue to launch them at this rate.~

Darn it, H-B. You take all the fun out of this.

~I merely advise a pragmatic approach, Colonel. And my name is Huy-Braesealis.~

{smirking} Sorry. My mistake. Carter, what's our status?

The majority of the fleet's been decimated, sir. Only a few ships remain. There's one Ha'tak holding back, though. Coming into range now.

Must be Anubis. Right, the Prometheus and the F-302s can take care of the mop-up. Beck, time to break out the space ray.

Got it. Should I open fire now?

Not just yet. Wait for it...

In slow, stately fashion the Ha'tak approaches the planet.

Wait for it...

Inexorable. Inevitable.

Wait for it...

Finally settling into a geosynchronous orbit above the valley.

Now.

Huy-Braesealis, activate aktina.

~Yes, Domina.~

The beams of light come together as before, shooting upwards through the atmosphere towards the mothership in orbit--

--where Anubis has been watching in disbelief as his entire fleet is utterly destroyed by the unexpected combination of swift Tau'ri ships and powerful Ancient weaponry--

--sending him a simple, forceful message before impact:

This is our world now, our home. You are not welcome here. Be gone!

Detonation.

The tower rocks top to bottom with the force of the massive resulting shockwave over their heads. Strong enough to knock Jack, Sam and Daniel out of the link.

Huy-Braesealis, what's our status?

A brief moment of panic as the AI's presence in her mind blanks out.

Huy-Braesealis? Are you there? Answer me!

Darkness. Darkness and silence.

Huy-Braesealis, what happened? Are you okay? Speak to me, please!

The shimmer reappears in her mind, amber and russet and clear pale gold. She breathes a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness. Are you all right?

~My apologies, Domina. The impact briefly disrupted my functions but I was able to reboot. I am better now.~

I'm glad. What's the status on both systems?

~All the emplacements remain intact, though they require fresh potentias before resuming operation. It will also take time to manufacture more of the armas. Something unexpected has occurred with the reset, however. A file heretofore hidden in a minor directory has just presented itself with an urgent flag for your immediate access.~

...You mean it wants to download itself into my mind? I don't like the sound of that much. Is it safe? No Trojan horses or anything?

~Horses...? Ah, I see the references in your mind. I understand your concern, Domina. It has been scanned for hidden traps or viruses and there are none. You will waken as soon as the download is complete. It will take time to process the data, but only on an unconscious level.~

And I need to see this information because...?

~I believe you and your people will find it interesting, perhaps even useful as a contingency plan. Trust me, Domina. You will come to no harm.~

All right. Go ahead.

Even as the download begins she has the sudden premonition something big is happening at the settlement, though for good or ill she cannot tell.

She can only hope everyone's okay.

****************

Dodging strafing fire, Mac springs in the direction of the compound emplacement, rolling against the sandbags to hide from the latest barrage. Winces as his knees ache with the impact.

Times like these he wishes he had a younger and more resilient body. Not long ago he'd thought his adventuring days far behind him. Go figure.

Janet's squatting nearby, tending to a marine's leg and sending him off on a stretcher to the infirmary before turning to the next casualty for triage. Definitely not combat-shy, though he secretly harbors misgivings about her willingness to serve in the line of fire. But then he'd worry about her even if they weren't romantically involved.

"Hurry up, Mac," Ferretti says, kneeling beside him. "Gotta get that thing workin' before we're toast."

"Yeah, got it." He pulls out his Swiss Army Knife, gets to work unfreezing the jammed tripod stand for what they call a staff cannon. After some finagling it pivots freely once more.

"Thanks." Ferretti takes hold of the weapon, fires at the Al'kesh hovering overhead. It retreats after being damaged from two shots with the staff cannon, but not before dropping down a set of horizontal rings. 

Goa'uld transporter. Mac recognizes it from the reports with a shiver.

Three figures in black armor appear in a flash of light and immediately begin firing once the rings depart, their weapons emitting energy beams into the compound.

Ferretti curses. "Kull warriors. Great, just what we need."

"Come again?"

"Shock troops for Anubis. Saw one without its helmet once, ugly pale fella. Gave me the creeps." The major turns to his SG-2 teammates hunkered down nearby. "Okay guys, we got those special rounds to deal with these suckers, so let's put 'em to good use."

One dies in a hail of bullets, the second not long after. The remaining warrior feints in the direction of Janet, who's just standing up with her back to him, oblivious to the weapon carelessly aimed at her--

Janet!

Without sparing a thought for his own danger Mac sprints to her side, knocking her to the ground away from the line of fire. The energy beam glances off his left shoulder, a searing burn.

"Do not worry, MacGyver. I will defend you and Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c steps forward, raises his staff weapon. "Major Ferretti, if you will assist?"

"You got it." A combination of bullets and well-placed energy blasts shorts out his armor and puts the warrior down for good.

"Um, Mac?" Janet's voice is muffled. "Usually I love it when you're on top but I can't breathe."

"Sorry." Leaning heavily on his uninjured arm he scoots up and away from her, gritting his teeth at the pain in his shoulder.

Her eyes widen. "You've been hit!"

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Almost by reflex, his wince putting the lie to his words.

She frowns. "That's not nothing, Mac. Sometimes you're too much like your brother. Let me see," getting to a kneeling position to better examine the wound and pulling on fresh gloves. He gasps as she gently prods. "Must've just glanced off of you. No worse than a second-degree burn."

With his other hand he gingerly fingers the burnt edges of the fabric, frowning. "Still hurts like heck."

"It will for a while. Even so you're lucky. Energy weapons can be nasty." She rummages in her bag, takes a pad of gauze from her medkit and secures it over the wound with paper tape. "I'll check it out more carefully when I can get you to the infirmary but this will have to do for now. The bandage has to be changed every day. That means a lot of house calls, I'm afraid," giving him a cheeky grin and a wink.

"Good thing you know where I live then, huh?"

Blue beams of light shoot back and forth high above their heads, then a familiar faint rippling shimmer reappears in the sky. Gliders and Al'kesh descend from the upper atmosphere, their attempts thwarted by the impenetrable shield.

"Looks like Becky and Jack made it," Janet remarks.

"And just in time, too." Mac grins in relief, the pain of his shoulder momentarily forgotten. "I knew they could do it."

After enduring several waves the shield flickers a couple times then abruptly disappears. A stream of golden sparks shoots upwards from the mountains to the east, deftly avoiding their own ships but decimating what remains of the enemy fleet.

Ferretti grins. "Talk about a light show, huh? Beautiful."

Even as he hates war and destruction Mac can only agree. If it weren't for those Ancient weapons at their disposal- and his own brother and niece at the controls- the settlement would be a crater by now.

One by one the last few smaller ships are destroyed. "Is it over?" someone asks hopefully behind him.

"It is not, Airman O'Reilly," Teal'c says. "Anubis has yet to show his full power."

The sky darkens as an immense pyramidal mothership descends to low orbit, taking up a geosynchronous position above the valley and blocking out the sun.

Mac swallows. He's seen images of Ha'taks before, though never one in person until now. It's terrifying.

The lights of the Astria return, bouncing between emplacements then converging into a single massive blue beam in the center, shooting straight up into the sky. The Ha'tak explodes in a powerful actinic burst, bright enough they have to shield their eyes for a moment. What little remains after hits the atmosphere in long streaks of fire and smoke.

Stunned silence prevails before both base and settlement reverberate with cheers and sounds of celebration.

"They did it," Janet breathes. "We're safe now."

Mac slips his uninjured arm around her shoulders, smiling down at her. "Yeah we are, aren't we?"

She beams at him. God, she's amazing. Gorgeous, vivacious and brilliant. Fearless in the face of danger. Kind and compassionate. He's never known anyone like her before.

To think he could've lost her today. "Jan--"

She places a finger against his lips. "Hush, I know. You saved my life, Mac. That's something I won't forget. I owe you big time."

"Marrying me might be enough to cover it," the words startling him even as they come out of his mouth.

Janet gasps. "Mac, did I just hear you right? Are you seriously proposing to me?"

Teal'c says nothing but raises an inquisitive eyebrow. The space around them has gotten pretty small, what with Ferretti and other personnel suddenly paying close attention, almost holding their collective breath.

Mac's almost tempted to say he's joking, citing adrenaline rush and the heat of the moment. Must've been, to make such a reckless statement.

And yet at the same time he desires nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with this incredible woman, loving her with all his heart and soul. They're perfect together, in ways he never expected. He wants to ensure she and Cassie are forever safe, happy and loved.

So why not take the chance? They've just survived an alien invasion, after all. Anything's possible now.

"Yeah, you did. I love you, Janet. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

She regards him with an expression so serious he fears he's screwed up their relationship beyond repair.

Then she bestows on him one of her most radiant smiles and he feels immense relief. "Oh, Mac. I love you too. Yes, I'll marry you." He meets her halfway as she stands on tiptoe. Their arms wrap around each other- though carefully, due to his injury- for a long, heated kiss, pulling back with a faint blush to their cheeks as personnel cheer for a second time, if anything even louder than before.

Teal'c nods in satisfaction. "Felicitations, MacGyver, Doctor Fraiser." He holds out his hand. "I believe this is the Tau'ri custom for such an occasion?"

Mac can't stop grinning as he takes it. "Yeah, it is. Thanks, Teal'c." His smile fades. "Oh, no. What am I gonna tell Jack and Becky?"

"I believe they will be most heartened by the news. Indeed, I am certain they have been anticipating this development for some time." He can almost swear he sees a glint of humor in the Jaffa's eyes, even a faint trace of a smile on his lips. Guess he's been expecting this as well.

Janet laughs outright. "Bet Cassie feels the same way. She'll be so thrilled."

Oh, yeah. He's gonna be an instant dad, too. Talk about making a major commitment.

For a moment he has trouble breathing, certain he's gonna freak out. But Jan's arms come around him again and they're kissing and everything's perfect.

Even so he can't shake this gut feeling Becky's not out of the woods yet, though why or how he has no idea.

****************

Daniel staggers as the tower sways, gripping the side of the control chair. Beside him Becky remains unconscious, her vital signs stable though he wonders for how much longer.

His beloved should have awakened by now, surely. It's worrisome.

The radio set crackles to life. "Hey Daniel? You kids okay?"

"I'm fine Jack, but Becky's still under. How about you?"

"Still alive and kickin', but barely. So what's going on with her? Think you can wake her so we can get outta here soon?"

"I'm looking into it. I'll let you know."

"Understood. Though I gotta catch my breath before Carter and I meet up with you, if that's okay. Controlling those drones left me kinda winded."

"Got it, Jack. See you later."

A flash of light and a dark-robed figure appears in the middle of the control room.

Anubis. For real this time, Daniel realizes with a chill down his spine.

"Surrender, human," the Goa'uld demands without preamble. "I will have this planet one way or another. Give it to me or the chair and the female Tau'ri in it will be destroyed."

"Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin." Daniel's surprised by his own flippancy. Jack's definitely been a bad influence.

"You amuse me, Tau'ri. So I will give you a choice. Yield to me and die quickly and quietly or resist and prepare for a long and horrible death." Just like the rest of his race, vain and arrogant to the bitter end.

Not much of a choice either way.

Becky's still unconscious in the chair, Jack and Sam nowhere in sight.

It's all up to him.

"Decide now, Tau'ri," Anubis says. "Surrender or suffer the consequences."

He reaches for his sidearm, knowing full well bullets would be useless against the powerful Goa'uld. Better than nothing, though.

He'll protect his beloved, or die trying. That's the only real choice here.

****************

~Download complete.~

Thank you, Huy-Braesealis. You have given me much to think about. Until next time.

~At your service as always, Domina. I strongly recommend you wake now. My sensors indicate your amantis is in grave danger.~

...What?

Becky's eyes fly open, widening in disbelief at the sight of Daniel standing before Anubis in the flesh. "Decide now, Tau'ri," the Goa'uld says in that doubled voice that always gives her the creeps. "Surrender or suffer the consequences."

She can tell her beloved's about to do something stupid by the set of his shoulders and the determination in his stance as he draws his gun. Sacrifice his life for hers, most likely.

No. Not gonna happen. This isn't the first time the life of someone she loves has been threatened in her presence, and she refuses to lose him after everything they've already been through.

Summoning her strength she leaps out of the chair and stands defiantly between them, arms outstretched in a protective gesture. "The hell you will! You'll have to kill me first before you get anywhere near him!"

Daniel's eyes widen. "Becky, no--"

"I won't leave without you, raven. Either we get out of this alive and together, or not at all."

Anubis chortles, an ugly, hollow sound. "Very brave, little Tau'ri! But your defiance has only sealed your doom." He raises his gloved hands, power crackling between them.

A bolt of red energy flies from his hands. Becky pushes Daniel out of the way, joining him on the floor. The beam rakes over them in a glancing shot and she cries out at the sharp, intense pain on her left shoulder. As Daniel moans and goes limp she realizes with a sinking feeling he must've been hit worse.

Gritting her teeth at the burning pain she staggers upright and pulls her zat out of its holster, pointing it at the Goa'uld. Might as well go down fighting. "I've had enough, you slimy snake! Go and pick on someone your own size."

A blaze of yellow within the dark void. "Foolish little human. No one can defeat me! Now I shall destroy both you and your pitiful planet, once and for all."

"I wouldn't if I were you." In a flash of white light a man stands before them, dressed in a cream v-neck sweater and tan slacks. An uncanny resemblance to her Daniel, though without the glasses. A sense of serenity about him also unlike her raven. "Harm them again and be prepared to face the consequences."

"Preposterous! You are Ascended. There are rules against interfering."

"Ah, but technically I'm not from this universe so the rules don't apply to me. Besides, I have a personal interest." A slow, deliberate wink in Becky's direction, leaving her thoroughly confused.

She can only gape, her gaze flicking between him and her own unconscious Daniel. Same yet totally different. Weird.

"Very well. Stop me, if you can," Anubis taunts. "Strike me down. Do it now or I will destroy this planet and everyone on it. Starting with these pathetic humans." Red energy flickers in his hands.

Balls of actinic light streak towards the Goa'uld before he can make good on his threat, black robes swiftly engulfed in white flames. Screaming as he burns, host and parasite both, until all that remains is a pile of ashes.

Becky ought to be appalled but can't summon up even a smidgen of remorse for him. Good riddance.

She turns back to Daniel on the floor. Her shoulder hurts like hell but it's nothing compared to the wound on his abdomen. She frowns and checks her pockets, panicking when she fails to find the usual emergency medkit stashed in her tac vest.

Not so much as a bandage to her name, and with her radio damaged by the energy blast she can't even call Jack and Sam for help. There's not much else she can do for him. Her beloved may well die if he doesn't get some kind of attention soon, and it'd be all her fault. 

Talk about helpless. She begins to sink into despair. 

"Please, let me take care of that." She blinks up into the crystal blue gaze of the Ascended version, smiling at her in sympathy. At her nod he squats down and places one hand on her injured shoulder and the other on her beloved's abdomen, fingers lightly splayed.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"

"Shh." He closes his eyes, concentrates. His hands glow and the wounds knit themselves back together, the pain fading quickly. Even the burnt holes in their clothing are repaired, like they had never been.

Becky blinks in surprise, flexing her shoulder. "Wow. Thanks a lot. And for getting rid of Anubis too, by the way."

"My pleasure. I've broken so many rules already but I feel responsible. I should never have let him out of my sight."

"Are you from a parallel universe? How and why did you Ascend?"

"Yes to the first question. Can't answer the other two, sorry. Suffice it to say my circumstances were quite different, and I had to make some tough decisions." He stands up, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I have to go."

She joins him, placing a hand on his arm. Very warm and solid for an energy-based being. "Not yet, please. You saved our lives. I don't know how to thank you."

His smile is warm and gentle. "Just love him and take care of him, with all your heart and soul. He'll do the same for you, trust me."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Maybe one day." He bends and kisses her cheek. "Take care, Becky." A bright flash of light and he's gone.

Daniel groans softly behind her. His eyes open, blink up at her in confusion. "Um, hi?"

She grins in relief. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Got an awful headache. And I could've sworn I got hit by an energy bolt," he adds, absently patting his abdomen. He takes in the room with a slightly puzzled frown. "What happened to Anubis, anyway?"

She's not about to tell him an Ascended alternate version of himself saved them, he'd never believe it. "Got what was coming to him, don't worry. We'll never see him again. Here, let me help you sit up." She kneels, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

One of his slides around her waist, tugging her until she's sitting in his lap. She giggles. "Very smooth."

He looks smug. "I thought so. Thanks for saving my life."

"Honestly, I didn't do much."

"You did more than enough. You were there by my side, and you didn't back down. That means a lot to me. Mere bahaadur pyaare," he whispers before meeting her lips.

She melts into his embrace, overwhelmed by the warmth of his body surrounding hers, the sensations evoked as they taste each other. His hands caressing her back, his own muscles flexing under her hands beneath his jacket. Slowly savoring the sheer miracle of being alive and together.

Perfection.

"Sheesh, you two. Celebrating already?"

Jack strides forward to meet them with Sam not far behind, both smirking. Their feet trail through the pile of ashes and Jack frowns down at the floor. "You oughta bring a broom next time, Beck. This place sure needs a spring cleaning."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. How're you feeling?"

"Terrific." He breaks into a wide grin. "You did it, kiddo."

"We did it," she corrects firmly. "All four of us." She holds out her hand. "Help me up, Uncle Colonel?"

"You bet. Carter, give Danny a hand up." He easily pulls her to her feet. "So what were you two doing on the floor, anyway?"

Daniel opens his mouth to speak and she throws him a quelling look. "Long story. Let's get outta here, okay? Bet there's a lot of cleanup to do back at the settlement."

****************

The MacGyver-Fraiser wedding's held a week after the battle. Captain Andrea Sedgewick officiates in her capacity as chaplain while vows are spoken and improvised rings of electrical wire exchanged, to everyone's amusement. Becky's already making them more permanent bracelets of braided and dyed leather at their request, a bit more practical and easier to come by than proper wedding rings right now.

Hard to believe out of the three of them Mac's getting married first. Ironic for a man who once considered himself incapable of making a commitment, the years serving as her guardian notwithstanding.

Judging from the faint bewildered look in his eyes he can't believe it either, though he repeats the vows willingly enough and his smile for his bride is warm and fond and genuine. After decades of bachelorhood and failed relationships he's finally taking a chance, allowing hope to triumph over uncertainty at last.

Janet beams at her beloved as she speaks in turn, with sure certainty she has the man she's been waiting for.

Cassie can't stop giggling, fit to bursting with happiness. She grins at Becky who winks back at her, cousin to cousin.

From their positions as best man and maid of honor Jack and Sam can't stop trading their own long, lingering looks. Becky wonders just what kind of shenanigans it'll take to get them to finally see reason and tie the knot.

Behind Jack Daniel watches with a small, wistful smile. From time to time his eyes meet hers and his smile turns warmer, even sultry. Her cheeks flush at the naked yearning in his gaze, like he can't wait for them to get home and ravish each other thoroughly. Since the incident in the control room it seems their passion has only gotten stronger.

Mac and Janet finally seal their bond with a kiss. Becky joins in the enthusiastic applause, hugging them with tears in her eyes. "Congratulations. I'm so proud of you, Unc. Of both of you."

He grins, kissing her on the forehead. "Thanks, Beck. Maybe someday soon I'll be giving you away, huh?" nodding in Daniel's direction.

"Maybe someday," she agrees.

They will marry, she's sure of it. But not just yet.

There's a settlement to rebuild first, after all. Not to mention a whole galaxy needing to be set right.

Alvarez and his team are already hard at work repairing the damage, along with a host of volunteers after tending to casualties and burying the dead in the settlement's cemetery. Military and civilians alike are coming together with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to help each other however they can and pass along their knowledge to others. A true cooperative society.

Too bad it took the destruction of their homeworld- and almost losing this one- to bring it about.

Despite good reasons for secrecy Becky's convinced there's a strong argument to be made in favor of opening up to the rest of the galaxy. The Goa'uld as a species has been all but eliminated as a power now, what with most of the System Lords and their planetary strongholds reduced to tatters. An unprecedented opportunity exists to contact all these newly-vulnerable worlds, tip the balance firmly in favor of freedom and an end to millennia of oppression. Encourage trade between worlds, both material goods and ideas. Create a galactic confederation- a commonwealth, even- with Gateway as a trading hub and clearinghouse of information, thanks to the safeguards left by the Ancients. Bring them under the protective shield of New Earth lest some worse power comes along, hunting easy pickings to conquer and exploit.

They may laugh at her ideas in council but she's positive it'll happen, sooner or later.

There's all the time in the world, now.

****************

A glorious night for the festival, the first hint of warmer weather during the day lingering into soft twilight, streetlights off so the settlement glows instead with paper lanterns everywhere. In each doorway sit handmade pots overflowing with flowers, both native and Old-Earth-adapted varieties.

Becky and Daniel stroll arm in arm through the central forums, which he says remind him more of Middle Eastern bazaars than anything. Marveling together at the joyful chaos surrounding them. Loud and colorful, filled with laughter and happy conversations, kids running around and playing. Music on every corner, people walking around munching on offerings from the food stalls- special filled dumplings, kebabs of grilled proteins and vegetables, paper cups of ices flavored with preserved fruits.

Spring Awakening indeed. A night to celebrate light and warmth returning to the world after a long winter. An abundance of love, fellowship and good cheer, even more precious when it could've all been taken away in an instant.

The way life should be, always.

****************

Twenty-eight hours later they relax on top of blankets in front of the woodburning stove. Lying on their sides, face to face and body to body, clinging to one another. Sharing warmth and breath.

Becky knows she ought to be at peace next to her beloved. But she can't stop thinking about the battle.

There were sentient beings aboard those ships, Jaffa like Teal'c along with the Kull warriors. Granted their sole job was to do their master's bidding; they would've destroyed New Earth and everyone on it without a moment's qualm.

Even so they must've had families at home, children who will never, ever see their fathers again. And she had a hand in making that happen.

She used to be a pacifist. Now she's a killer. The shame burns in her like nothing else.

"You're thinking about last week, aren't you?"

Daniel's soft question startles her. They haven't said a word to each other for the past hour, content to silently savor each other's presence after lovemaking. One of the best things about their relationship, no pressure to make conversation if they don't feel like it.

"How can you tell?"

The corner of his mouth turns up in a wry smile, the look in those beautiful blue eyes reminiscent of his Ascended version (she'll carry the memory of his appearance with her to the grave). "I know my hummingbird. You feel responsible for what happened, all those lives lost."

"I do," grateful for the firelight concealing her blush. "I know there's a war on, and we have to defend ourselves. Things would be a whole lot worse if we'd failed, and yet--"

"--and yet you feel remorse all the same," he finishes. "I understand, believe me. When Ra punished the Abdyonians for daring to defy him a lot of innocents were killed and it broke my heart. I knew down to my bones it was our fault- mine and Jack's. I was terrified of what we were facing, but I also knew it was our duty to set things right."

"And in doing so you brought down an alien god, freed an oppressed people and eventually changed the course of history for an entire galaxy." A wry smile of her own. "Not bad for a shy archaeologist and a full-bird colonel with bad knees."

"I amazed even myself, back then," he admits. "You see, before we met in Seattle I never considered myself brave."

She blinks in surprise. "But you stood up for me against Sanderson. Even punched his lights out."

"You defended me against him first, during the lecture," he reminds her, playfully touching her nose. "Which inspired me to return the favor. And later gave me the courage to face down Ra with Jack."

"I'm sure falling for Sha're didn't hurt."

He smiles faintly. "You may be right. Anyway, since then I've learned that bravery is more than acting without fear. It's doing what needs to be done despite the fear. And you've proved you can do that, in spades."

"If you say so," she mutters, looking away from him into the fire.

He turns her face back, tenderly cupping her cheek. "I know so. Your compassion and caring for others is what gives you the strength to be brave, Becky. It's one of the things I love the most about you. Don't ever give that up."

"I'll do my best not to." She takes heart from his words, brooding banished for the moment. "You said that's one of the things you love about me. Are there others, by any chance?" Playfully batting her eyes.

A low, aroused chuckle as he reaches for her. "Plenty of time for a demonstration. Why don't I show you?"

He's right, she thinks before losing herself in rekindled passion. Plenty of time now.

Time to rest, rebuild, repair. Set a galaxy to rights.

To process a ton of downloaded information, which will take a while even with assistance from the portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind.

Already it's pervading her dreams, visions of tall graceful spires floating above the blue water of an unknown ocean, gleaming pink and gold in an alien sunset.

No idea yet where it is in the universe but she knows it's out there, waiting for them. She knows its name.

Atlantis, the City of Water.

Chapter Text

"Fine work with the drones, Jack. I mean it," Hammond says over glasses of what could possibly be the last of genuine Old Earth scotch in the known universe. On the credenza next to the cut-glass decanter is a version imported from one of their trading allies but neither is inclined to give it a try as of yet.

It's purple, for god's sake. Strange how even the color of liquor can be taken for granted.

Jack leans back in his chair, crosses one long leg over the other. He likes having these infrequent, off-duty conversations with his CO over drinks. "Thank you, sir. Though honestly my niece should get equal credit. Everything was prepped ahead of time thanks to her, all I had to do was sit in the chair and give directions."

"A sensible young woman. You should be proud."

"Oh I am, sir. Believe me. Though Mac had more influence when it came to her upbringing. To this day I have no idea how he managed to raise a teenage girl in between Phoenix assignments, but I gotta admit he did a pretty good job."

"I'm sure your niece had a lot to do with it herself. Good head on her shoulders." He sips at his drink. "I suppose you've been wondering why I invited you over today. I'll be making an official announcement later this week but I wanted you to be the first to know. I'm stepping down as commander of the NEDF, retiring to an advisory position. The General-Governorship is yours, and welcome to it."

Jack's eyes widen, almost dropping the glass in his hand. "So soon, sir?"

"Fairly late, you mean. The SGC would've been my last posting anyway. A nice, easy assignment before retiring for good. Or so I thought," he ruefully adds. "Tell you son, never once had I imagined I'd be fighting a secret interstellar war at my age. Or being governor of an offworld colony, for that matter. I've been in the service a very long time, and this business with Anubis was just about the last battle I had in me."

"To be honest, I don't think we could've predicted any of this happening when the Program started. Especially the end of the world by natural means."

"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to a good long rest, looking after my granddaughters."

"You've more than earned it, General. Time after time you've gone way above and beyond the call of duty for all of us. Gotta admit you're a tough act to follow."

Hammond smiles. "Thanks for the compliment, Jack. There's no doubt in my mind you're up to the task yourself. Despite your reputation as a maverick you also care deeply about those under your command. It's no sinecure, but that proves you've got the imagination and flexibility it takes to navigate our current situation and ensure we have a future. The official handover will be held after the Awakening festival, I should have everything wrapped up by then."

Jack stares pensively into his drink. He'd known this day was coming, but the reality of it still kinda floors him. Even though his body welcomes the rest he's not mentally ready to be kicked upstairs. He's always been a man of action, and the notion of spending the rest of his career behind a desk and dealing with politics- even the small-scale, settlement version- sets his teeth on edge.

Yet he doesn't have a choice, when it comes right down to it. The NEDF needs a leader, and no one else knows the scale of operations both on and offworld like he does, thanks to time spent shadowing Hammond as his 2IC.

He'll just have to do his duty, bite the bullet and take life as it comes. As he always has.

"If that's what you want to do, sir. I'll try not to disappoint, only- off the record?" Hammond nods. "I appreciate the promotion, but honestly I'd rather be fishing."

A wry chuckle escapes the General's lips. "I hear you, Jack. Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Feel free to come to me for advice anytime." He reaches over the desk, holding out his hand. "Congratulations."

Jack refrains from saluting in time and shakes it instead, a gesture of equals. "Thank you, sir."

Just wait 'til the gang gets a load of this.

****************

The first team night after the battle, everyone gathered around the table at his place for dinner. Which feels pretty empty now since Mac's moved in with Janet and Cassie and Becky's comfortably cohabitating with Daniel.

Maybe he should jump on the bandwagon, convince Carter to move in after the handover. Or even ask her for something more, and not only because Mac showed him up by tying the knot first.

He's never met anyone who both complements and challenges him the way she does. Not to mention she looks damn sexy in everything, from BDUs to flight suits to that sweet little tank-top number.

Then again, they've both been content to take things slow. It's probably for the best to give their relationship more time to develop, or at least wait until after he's gotten used to being The Man for a while.

No one's surprised at the news of Jack's promotion. Which irks him a little, having expected a lively reaction on par with hearing about Mac and Janet's battlefield engagement.

"I don't know if I can do this," he admits. "Hammond's leaving behind some pretty big shoes to fill."

"You'll do just fine. Nobody knows how this place should be run better than you," Daniel says reasonably. "You can do whatever you want."

"Like ordering cake to be served every day in the refectory from now on," Becky quips, eyes twinkling.

"And I won't have to see you in the infirmary quite as often," Janet chimes in with a wry smile. "Unless it's ordering you to cut down on said cake."

"Not likely he'd take your advice though, if I know my brother," Mac informs her with a smirk. "I'm warning ya, Jack, one of these days we'll have to hold an intervention about this unhealthy obsession of yours with baked goods."

"Hey, a man's gotta have a hobby," Jack counters in mock protest. He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "So I'll be able to do whatever I want, huh?"

Everyone else trades alarmed glances as they realize the implications. "Within reason, sir," Carter quickly amends.

"Figured as much. So what's the flip side?"

"Well, the state of affairs out there is pretty chaotic. An ambitious minor System Lord named Ba'al has already absorbed several territories into his domain and intends to acquire more."

"The Replicators are still a threat," Daniel notes. "The Asgard are barely holding their own against them, we'll have to help out somehow. And there are rumors of a newly-formed organization called the Lucian Alliance, eager to snatch up whatever's left."

"Any silver linings?" Jack inquires.

"Since word's gotten out about how we defeated Anubis we've received petitions via the Tok'ra from the surviving minor System Lords, for assistance in fending off Ba'al," Becky offers. "Other recently-freed worlds are also making overtures for our protection."

"I have word from Master Bra'tac," Teal'c says. "Many of my fellow Jaffa are eager to unite their tribes into a new nation, now they are free of their false gods. I intend to offer the constitution of our settlement as a role model at the first convocation. Elizabeth Weir has indicated her willingness to advise me on appropriate modifications."

Jack taps his fingertips together. "Sounds like a full plate, then. Gotta admit sitting on the sidelines and watching you guys go have all the fun won't be easy. Just remember to think of me slogging away behind a desk while you're taking a jaunt through the ol' orifice, okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure there will be plenty of situations in which you can join us in the field, sir," Carter hastens to reassure him.

"And you can always come to your good friends and advisors here any time you need guidance," Daniel adds with a trace of a smirk.

"Not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing, Danny. Though at least I'll have one ally on the council. Right, Beck?"

She grins. "Depends on what you offer as a bribe, dear Uncle General-Governor."

"C'mon Jack," Mac says encouragingly. "Step up to the plate already. You can do this."

"MacGyver is correct, O'Neill," Teal'c states with his usual calm certainty. "We are facing some formidable challenges indeed but we are fully prepared to meet them with you as our leader."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, guys. I really do." He sobers. "Seriously, thanks. Means a lot to know you're in my corner. Now, who wants dessert?"

Naturally, everyone raises their hands.

****************

Later after the rest of the gang has left Carter stays behind to help with the washing up, a pensive expression on her face. Which could go on all night if he doesn't break her out of it now. "Penny for your thoughts."

She blinks at him, belatedly realizing she's been holding the same plate for the last couple minutes and setting it carefully in the dish drainer. "Oh, sorry, Jack. I was just thinking."

As a way to make her comfortable in their relationship he lets her decide when to eschew titles for first names, transitioning from formal officers to informal lovers. "Sam, you aren't ever gonna stop, period. That's one of the things I love about you. So lay it on me."

"Well, I was wondering who'd be leading the team if you're not with us. I mean, you're taking the job, aren't you?" Her look of uncertainty tugs at his heartstrings, that hint of vulnerability and self-doubt always making him want to cuddle her close even as he takes pride in her bravery and self-reliance.

"Hey, it's not like there are any other career opportunities waiting for me out there. As for who leads the team, hmm." He affects a thoughtful expression, pursing his lips. "Guess I'll have to give that serious consideration. Unless you wanna arm wrestle for it?"

She flushes at the reminder of their first meeting, what feels like a lifetime ago. "Still can't believe I actually said that out loud. You must've thought me terribly forward and insubordinate."

"Yeah, though I kinda liked it. Showed you had guts for a scientist. But let's not dwell. Don't know about you but I wouldn't mind celebrating my promotion now, just the two of us. So how 'bout it, huh?" Offering her that slow, sexy grin which he knows makes her melt.

She grins back. "Oh, Jack. As if you have to ask." They share a sweet, hot kiss over the soap bubbles.

A notion about her is already forming in his mind, even as he pulls her close. One long overdue.

Maybe being The Man has its perks after all.

****************

The ceremony's held the first Friday after Awakening in the Memorial Grove. Three flags stand behind the podium in the clearing, the familiar SGC along with two new ones for the NEDF and New Earth itself. The material was provided as a gift from one of their trading partners specializing in textiles and tailoring, eager for business since their original clothing from Old Earth's getting pretty worn out.

Becky squirms a little in her chair, squinting up at the light filtering through everblue branches high above. It's a peaceful setting but even three years after the Memorial it stirs up more embarrassing memories than she'd care to admit.

Her gaze strays to Daniel sitting on her left. He smiles as if he knows exactly what's on her mind and takes her hand, entwining their fingers.

A flush warms her cheeks. Okay, so not everything about that day was humiliating.

Personnel salute as General-Governor Hammond approaches the podium for his farewell address. He takes in the assembled crowd with a sweeping glance before he begins.

"Ladies and gentlemen, when I first agreed to take command of the SGC I had no idea of either the events that would transpire or the challenges that would be faced, both internal and external. Nevertheless I'm honored to have fought alongside the finest and bravest men and women I've ever had the privilege to work with. And proud to stand among you now, as a fellow citizen of Gateway Settlement and New Earth. I commend each and every one of you on a job well done in defending our former homeworld to the best of your abilities, and doing your utmost to make this one something we can all be proud of. Congratulations and thank you."

Everyone applauds.

"New leadership is required to take us into the future, whatever it may be. So without further ado it is with great pleasure I introduce to you the new General-Governor and Commander of the NEDF, Jack O'Neill."

From the other end of the grove people clear a path, military personnel standing at attention and saluting as he strides forward in full dress blues to join Hammond, shaking hands with the retiring General.

Recognizing their cue Becky and Mac stand and approach him, each carrying the insignia of Jack's new rank. After replacing silver birds with silver stars Mac pats him on the back and Becky rises on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He grins at them as they return to their seats before taking his place behind the podium.

In the front row Daniel and Sam smile broadly while Teal'c looks inordinately smug in his fashion, all three proud of their friend and teammate. He gives them a playful wink then focuses on the crowd at large.

"At ease," he says. "You all know how much I love speeches and there's cake being served afterwards so I'll make this quick. I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for the courage and support of each and every one of you and I'm grateful. Let me tell ya- despite all I've seen and done in my career I still believe in hope. It's not a friendly universe out there, but what we've lost along the way only increases the value of what remains, and only by standing together to meet our challenges can we find something precious on the other side."

"Pretty eloquent for Jack," Mac whispers to Becky.

"I helped him with this part," she admits just as quietly. "He couldn't think of anything inspirational to say that wasn't a quote from The Simpsons."

Daniel hides a smirk behind his hand. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

Jack arches a knowing eyebrow their way but continues. "We've come a long way since arriving on this planet, but there's also a long way to go before we can truly live in peace. I promise I'll do my best to be as good a leader as we've had and as good as you deserve. Thank you.

"Now it's time for the cool stuff. With great pride my first order of business as General-Governor is to announce the promotion of Major Samantha Carter to Lieutenant Colonel, and appoint her as my second-in-command of the NEDF."

A soft gasp escapes from Sam, her eyes widening. Jack smirks, gesturing for her to join him at the podium. "Major, in recognition of your years of dedicated service both officially and unofficially and in light of the sacrifices you've made both willingly and unwillingly, and in acknowledgment of your selfless dedication to protecting two worlds, it's my great pleasure to confer upon you the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. Congratulations."

He exchanges silver oak leaves for gold. They salute each other.

The crowd's enthusiastic applause and cheers resound throughout the grove.

After the ceremony Becky's close enough to hear Sam say, "Are you sure keeping me on as your 2IC is a good idea, sir?"

"Sure as I am of anything, Carter. No one else I'd rather have on my six. I also need you to make sure Danny and T don't get into too much trouble out there."

Her jaw drops. "You mean--"

"Yep, SG-1 is all yours. I'll figure out a fourth sooner or later, or you can find someone yourself who fits the bill." She can only continue to gape at him. He chuckles. "Speechless for once, huh? I gotta mark this date on my calendar."

She swallows. "Sir...I...I don't know what to say. I mean I'm honored, but--"

He waves away her objections. "You deserve it Carter, the whole thing. I mean it. Off the record though, I'm open to accept any further thanks you're willing to give as, let's say, part of an off-duty strategizing session later tonight at my place?" Throwing her a sly wink.

Her smile's equally wicked. "Count on it, sir."

Becky grins at their exchange. She's so proud of them both. Jack's cheekiness and out-of-the-box thinking- a talent which runs in the family- is complimented by Sam's verve, moxie and sheer brilliance. They make a great team, with or without Daniel and Teal'c. The perfect combination to navigate the increasing chaos out there and confound their enemies.

The settlement needs that, now more than ever.

****************

By some miracle the base survives the first few days of Jack's tenure as General-Governor, involving a potential tuber crisis, an opportunistic Ba'al showing up via hologram pursuing a minor System Lord who had sought asylum on New Earth, the apparent kidnapping of SG-1 during a mission and out-of-control alien kudzu almost taking over the base. Pretty typical for the SGC, all things considered.

Becky's first solo as an arbitrator wasn't exactly a picnic either. Channeling her mom during negotiations with the Amorans was admittedly a touch extreme, even if they deserved it for their childish behavior. While everything worked out in the end it's not a strategy she'd ever recommend to future negotiators.

Her radio chirps as she's settling down for the night. "Hey, Beck? Just wanted to let you know Danny's on his way home from the infirmary."

She takes a deep breath, hoping nothing's wrong. This was the first time SG-1 went offworld without Jack and of course he's just as concerned about the welfare of his former team as she is, especially after the business with Ba'al, Camulus and the booby-trapped ZPM. "Did Ba'al have them? Are they okay?"

"Nope, and they're fine. No bones broken or anything like that according to Pierce and his night crew. But the guys are gonna need a good long rest before I let 'em go on another mission. Plenty of sleep and food, stuff like that. So don't let Daniel get away with it, when he insists on hitting the books until the wee hours again. Even if you feel like doing the same, since that's your natural inclination."

"Understood. Thanks for the heads-up." It's the least she can do for her beloved. "You're a good friend, you know that?"

"I know my Spacemonkey. I'm looking after Sam the same way, too."

"How about Teal'c?"

"The big guy can take care of himself. Lots of food and some kel'no'reem and he's good to go. But the sooner Sam and Danny are rested and fed the better, because then I can send 'em out again. And don't worry, they won't get another mission until we both think they're good for it. Not even if Ba'al himself breaks down the door for real."

"Got it. I'll do my best, Uncle General-Governor."

"I'm sure you will, kiddo. See ya later."

****************

Becky opens the door right when Daniel's reaching for the knob, which is good. Right now he's so exhausted he's about to collapse face first onto the floor. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." A quick kiss on the lips. He catches sight of the clock and frowns. "Isn't the monthly council meeting taking place now?"

"Nah, staying home tonight. Laying low so I don't have to hear Williams expound on my saintly deeds during the battle." She makes a face.

"If you say so. Jack tell you I was on my way?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You wouldn't be waiting by the door otherwise, if he hadn't already informed you I'd been released from the infirmary. Unless," tilting his head and smiling, "you were relying on your famous intuition again?"

She looks indignant for a moment, then her shoulders relax and she chuckles. "Good point. You need something to eat or a shower first?"

"No, just sleep."

"Okay." He lets her lead him by the hand into the bedroom. "Tough mission?"

"Yeah." He settles onto the bed, uttering a weary sigh before tossing the green jacket on a nearby chair and removing his boots before stretching out. Just as good as he'd been imagining while cooped up for days in that secret lab with Sam and Teal'c. Soft mattress and pillows easing his tired body, the deep pleasure of his hummingbird joining him, snuggling in close. Her quiet, gentle presence soothes his spirit like nothing else.

He yawns. "Anything interesting happen while we were away?"

"You could say," she says, yawning herself. "SG-8 brought back a plant sample from P6J-908 for Botany to study. Turned out to be the 'alien kudzu from hell,' as Jack so eloquently put it. Grew ten times its size in fourteen hours, doubled that again in twenty-eight. Took the whole day after that to contain before it could make inroads on the settlement. It was the least of Jack's problems, though."

"Good thing I wasn't around for that."

"Definitely. Your allergies would've been in overdrive, mine were bad enough. We finally got rid of it all but just in case Jack's ordered scans of the valley every day for a month or so, to make sure any stray spores haven't taken root. He's already chewed out SG-8, Bill Lee and the entire Botany section something awful for being careless and not taking proper quarantine measures first."

Daniel snorts. "I bet he did. Loudly, too."

"Oh, yeah. Heard him all the way across the compound." She pauses. "I'm really glad you're home. When Ba'al claimed he was holding you guys for ransom in exchange for Camulus I had a gut feeling he had no intention of letting you go."

"He never had us in the first place. Didn't Jack tell you?"

"Well yeah, I know that now. But at the time--" She gives a one-sided, helpless shrug. "I know you've taken some pretty big risks before but I honestly don't think I've ever feared so much for your safety." A single tear slides down her cheek.

He brushes it away with his lips. "Hush, hummingbird. Don't think about it anymore. I'm safe and we're together again. That's all that matters."

"Oh, raven." They share a slow, sleepy kiss.

Too tired for lovemaking, he takes pleasure in just holding her for now. So sweet and pliant in his arms, the cotton t-shirt the slightest barrier from her soft skin and perfectly-proportioned feminine comforts. He'd be a happy man if they could stay like this forever, bodies and souls entwined, safeguarded against bad dreams and a myriad of terrifying what-ifs.

Daniel closes his eyes, falling into peaceful slumber, safely home at last.

Perfection.

****************

After a couple hours' nap they wake for a late supper of pancakes, near-bacon and scrambled avian eggs. Then back to sleep, warm and comfortable with content stomachs.

It's almost 0200 when his eyes open again. Becky's wrapped in his arms, her petite form a comforting familiar weight on his chest. Daniel brushes her hair back with a fond smile, considers waking her so they can make love.

Naturally his body needs to answer an urgent call of nature at that moment. He settles her against the sheets and drops a gentle kiss on her cheek, a soft sigh her only response.

He reaches for his glasses, gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. Stares blearily at his reflection for a few moments, rubbing at the emerging bristles on his chin- he must remember to shave in the morning- before turning to the toilet.

Afterwards he opens the door and almost bumps into Becky. "Sorry."

She makes no reply but instead shuffles right past him, eyes glazed over, not even wearing her glasses.

"Becky? You okay?"

Her lack of reaction is puzzling to say the least. Not her usual half-asleep stumbling after waking unexpectedly, that's for sure. It reminds him more of sleepwalking than anything; if that's the case he shouldn't disturb her, just follow behind and make sure she doesn't hurt herself.

Maybe he should ask Mac later if she's done this before growing up. He's seen it happen to other kids in foster care, and being nightmare-prone might mean she's vulnerable to other sleep disorders as well.

His brow furrows in concern as she enters the spare room they use as an office. She picks up a pen and starts writing on a piece of scratch paper, not even bothering with the desk light.

He has a sudden sneaking suspicion this is more than mere somnambulism. It's been almost a year since the expedition to Huy-Braesealis when she sat in the control chair for the first time. Could what he feared for her then be happening at last, delayed reaction from prolonged exposure to Ancient technology?

She sets the pen down and turns away from the desk, moving past him in the doorway without even acknowledging his presence. He follows her back to the bedroom where she collapses onto the bed, already sound asleep.

Daniel silently watches for a while until he's certain she's safe before returning to the office. He turns on the desk light, frowning slightly as he studies the scratch paper.

Gate glyphs. Eight of them this time, including the one at the end that's become increasingly familiar over the years as their new origin point even as they've kept the peak-and-circle at as a reminder of their former homeworld.

Never before has he seen a sequence beyond the usual seven-symbol affair, despite there being nine chevrons on a Gate. No one has, until now.

It must have special significance. But what?

He shakes his head in disbelief. From out of the blue Becky sleepwalks and writes down an eight-symbol Gate address to god-knows-where. Weird, though admittedly not as much as what happened to Jack while under the influence of the Repository.

But it comes a close second.

With a frown he notices the Ancient letters she added below the glyphs. His eyes widen as he automatically translates it.

It's a word. No, a name. One straight out of myth and legend.

Atlantis.

Chapter Text

Jack leans back and sets his feet up on the desk, glad he has the most comfortable chair on base to cushion himself while doing battle with the inevitable paperwork. Sips at the mug of klah in his hand and shoots a quick glance at his watch, just in time to see he's been at work for exactly five minutes.

Already he's bored.

He sighs and looks around his office, trying to find something to occupy his mind. This place is humming along like a well-oiled machine, thanks to Walter and the rest of the support staff. Not much to do today except for the aforementioned paperwork.

Maybe he oughta work on his yo-yo tricks again. Give himself the day off, even- sneak right back into bed with Sam, or grab Mac for that postponed fishing trip.

He's the boss now, right? He can do whatever he wants.

The door opens and Daniel- whom he thought was safely tucked in bed under Becky's loving care since last night- pokes his head in. "Good, you're finally here."

He immediately turns and rushes away.

Jack scowls. Looks like the Spacemonkey's at it again.

Daniel doubles back and beckons to him, with a wide-eyed, almost manic look that's classic Jackson. "Aren't you coming? You gotta see this."

With a sigh he sets his mug on top of a stack of folders and eases out of his comfy chair. Following Daniel on a long and convoluted path into a room filled with computer monitors showing Gate addresses and paper star charts taped on the walls.

Becky's standing in front of a whiteboard, hands on hips, contemplating the equations and Gate glyphs as if they described the most important thing in the universe. She turns as they enter, waving around a scrap of paper. "I don't get it. It's my handwriting but I've never seen an address like this before. Where did it come from?"

"I don't know either. You were sleepwalking when you wrote it," Daniel explains.

She only looks further confused. "You mean I went and did something remarkable again and I don't even remember doing it?" She throws her hands over her head, accidentally letting go of the paper. Jack catches it mid-air. "Unbelievable. Why does this always happen to me?"

"You're just lucky that way, kiddo." He frowns at the symbols and Ancient letters beneath. "So what am I looking at, Danny?"

"It's a Gate address. We think leading to another city of the Ancients."

"You mean there's more than one?"

"Four of them, actually," Becky absently comments with her back to them, shuffling through a pile of charts.

Both men turn and stare at her, eyebrows raised.

She straightens and stares right back at them. "What, I didn't tell you guys before?"

Jack sighs. "Guess it's time to call a powwow, kids."

****************

Teal'c is offworld on Chulak conferring with Bra'tac about the Free Jaffa Nation so it's only him, Carter, Daniel and Becky in the briefing room. He's secretly hoping none of them will launch into a long lecture or anything, a potential snore-fest though he'd never dream of admitting it out loud. 

"Okay," Becky says, "all I know about the cities comes from Huy-Braesealis, so bear with me. While the Ancients had outposts everywhere they were based primarily in four cities, each symbolizing one of the traditional elements of nature. Huy-Brasealis is called the City of Earth for obvious reasons. Atlantis is the City of Water, the address for which apparently came to me last night in my sleep. Lavondis is the City of Air, most likely floating in the atmosphere of either a planet, a moon or a gas giant. And lastly Caeris the City of Fire, which could be located near a volcano, or even in close orbit around a sun."

"All of the names correspond to legendary places in Old Earth mythology," Daniel notes. "Mostly coastal or island city-states, such as Hy-Brasil and Atlantis. The name Lavondis hints at locales such as Avon, Lyonesse, Avalon and Dis. And Caeris or Caer Ys was a mythical city built on the coast of Brittany in France, later swallowed by the ocean."

"I'm picking up a theme here," Jack remarks. "Makes me glad Mac and I grew up in the Midwest."

Becky rolls her eyes. "All four used to be in constant contact with each other, but Huy-Braesealis claims he lost touch with the latter two thousands of years ago. He has no idea what their current status is, and any record in the city's database of their respective Gate addresses or actual locations is gone. What he knows of Atlantis is all that's left."

"How do you know about Atlantis in the first place?" Daniel asks her.

She grimaces, rubbing the back of her neck. "It happened near the end of the battle, when we blew up Anubis' mothership. Which you remember caused a massive shockwave powerful enough to temporarily knock you guys out of the link, and made the AI reboot. When it did, a previously hidden file in a minor directory presented itself with an urgent flag for my immediate perusal."

Carter stares at her in frank incredulity. "You mean it wanted to download itself into your mind? And you let it?"

"Only after Huy-Braesealis reassured me it was completely free of any traps or viruses. I have no reason yet not to trust the system, it's always been very courteous and obliging. Turned out to be a pretty big file too, which is why I didn't wake up right away. I've been processing it on a subconscious level ever since."

"Well, that explains the sleepwalking and writing," Daniel says. "Has your subconscious come up with anything else?"

"Aside from the Gate address? Not really. There's a portion of Huy-Braesealis in my mind that's been analyzing the data for me, and...Um, why are you guys looking at me like that?"

Jack can't help staring as if she's changed into an alien artifact right before their eyes. Carter and Danny look just as thunderstruck and more than a little apprehensive, unsure of her ultimate purpose.

What happened to him in the Repository was bad enough, but his own niece having a piece of Ancient tech in her mind? Downright scary to contemplate. Damn that ATA gene.

"How...how long has the AI been in contact with you?" Daniel finally ventures. "Without you sitting in the chair, I mean."

Becky looks a little guilty. "Almost right after the first mission to the city. I knew you guys were concerned about my long-term exposure and I didn't want to alarm anyone so I kept quiet. It's not a big deal, only a very small portion's in my mind, really."

"It's not...using you for anything, is it? Gathering data for its own purposes or whatever?"

"No, absolutely not," she says quickly. "I think it's just for keeping a channel open. You know, maintenance issues, like what happened with the southwest emplacement?" Jack nods reluctant understanding and so does Carter. "Don't worry, guys. Last night aside, I promise I'm not losing my mind. Besides, if I were under the influence of Ancient tech right now do you think I'd be able to do this?" She reaches over to Daniel and gives him a quick yet passionate kiss, leaving him dazed.

Which serves to break the tension, as she'd obviously intended.

Jack can't help the wry chuckle. "Nope, guess you wouldn't. But that won't stop us from worrying about you, Beck. You may think you're fine but I'm gonna have Janet give you a scan or two, just to make sure you've got your head on straight. Ah!" holding up his finger to forestall her protests. "I mean it, now. This is one time I don't want any argument."

She slumps in her seat and nods, already regretting inadvertently spilling the beans. "Yes, sir."

"An eight-chevron address," Carter muses, getting the discussion back on track. "We've never dialed one of those before, since it requires a huge expenditure of energy to establish and stabilize a wormhole connection. Much more than for seven. We'll have to use a ZPM as a power source, and connect it to the Gate with a modified generator."

"And do what with it?" Jack innocently inquires.

"Why, dial the address, of course. Sir." She looks astonished, even a little flustered. He likes keeping her on her toes.

He winks at her, to show he's been teasing. "Okay. So why did they build more than one city?"

"We don't know yet," Becky admits. "Maybe some of them wanted to form new colonies, seeding life elsewhere like they did here in the Milky Way. But we do know where it is. Daniel's calculated the actual location of Atlantis."

"The Pegasus Galaxy," he supplies. "It's a dwarf galaxy in the local group, approximately three million light-years from here."

Sam nods in recognition. "A companion to the Andromeda Galaxy. Relatively speaking, of course."

Jack rubs his chin, thoughtfully. "I don't wanna be a wet blanket but isn't that an awful long way for us to go, just to knock on the door and introduce ourselves to any surviving Ancients as their new neighbors?"

"C'mon Jack, isn't the fact it's there and we know where it is incentive enough to find out? The eight-chevron address indicates a point in space outside of this galaxy. We won't know anything else about it unless we dial the address." There's a familiar manic look in Danny's eyes, the kind he gets when hot on the trail of an archaeological mystery. Which rarely bodes any good, in Jack's experience.

"And isn't that the same reason why we go through the Gate in the first place, to see what's out there?" Becky chimes in. She's got that same look now. "Exploring is what we do best, after all."

Jack leans back, steeples his fingers in unconscious imitation of Hammond. "Clearly you're thinking of something other than a mere recon mission. What do you two have in mind?"

"Well," Becky ventures with a glance at Daniel, "if the Ancients went big, maybe we should too."

Jack's brow furrows. "You mean an expedition?"

She shrugs. "Yeah."

"With the amount of energy we'll need to power the Gate it'll likely be a one-way trip for anyone who goes," Carter warns. "They might be cut off from us forever if we can't find an alternative means to keep in contact."

"But that doesn't mean folks won't want to anyway," Becky counters. "Not if they're willing to brave the unknown and risk their lives in exchange for being on the cutting edge of research and exploration. And not just an expedition. A colony of our own in another galaxy, affiliated yet autonomous."

Daniel looks uneasy. "Um, to be honest I don't like the implications of the word colony."

"Then call it a contingency plan," she insists, "so we have somewhere else to go if another threat comes along that's too big for us to handle, and we have to either flee the Milky Way or risk total destruction."

"Got anyone in mind for a leader?" Jack asks, half-jokingly.

"I do, and you know her too- Elizabeth Weir. Now that we have the council up and running she's been advising Major Begay of SG-9 and our other roving diplomats. I also know she's secretly hoping for another project she can sink her teeth into, and I don't think she'll care if it's one-way."

Becky's made some good points. The legacy of the Ancients and their civilization- for all he hates their side effects- is a pretty big mystery, and one that deserves investigating. And he's been planning on developing a second contingency plan anyway, just in case things in the Milky Way go belly up.

It's a hell of a chance all the same, risking people's lives when there are only ten thousand or so left out of billions. Yet sometimes you have to take a chance to win big.

Oh, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right?

"Okay campers, let's plan an expedition. I'll talk to Elizabeth, get her take on the idea. Maybe she can suggest others who might be interested. Then we'll figure where to go from there. Good chat, everyone. See ya around." He stands and the rest of them follows suit. "Oh, and Beck? Don't forget to get your head examined. I'll let Janet know you're coming over."

Her shoulders slump, obviously hoping he'd forgotten. Not a chance. "Yes, sir," she mutters.

Daniel places a comforting arm around her shoulders, throwing a dirty look at him behind her back. Jack just shrugs, in seeming nonchalance. He knows she's probably okay, but it's best to remind his niece every now and then he can be as parental towards her as his brother if necessary.

It's something he takes pride in, looking out for the well-being of anyone under his command. As Hammond did before him.

He glances at the clock. It's been an interesting couple of hours, at least.

Time for a midmorning snack, fortify himself with cake before seeking the opinion of the redoubtable Dr. Weir about mounting an expedition to this galaxy named after a mythological winged horse.

Never a dull moment at the ol' SGC, that's for certain.

****************

As it turns out, nothing out of the ordinary shows up in the scans Janet does on Becky. Though there is the unfortunate side effect of Mac looking at her askance from time to time, only because he happened to be there to repair some equipment and eavesdropped. Now he's probably seeing her as a freak because of that portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind.

Just peachy.

At least he has the decency not to blab it to anyone else, and Becky's grateful for doctor-patient confidentiality with Aunt Janet. She can only hope the others use their best judgement. Gossip spreads pretty quick around the base after all, more so than one might expect for a formerly top-secret operation.

God forbid word should get out through the settlement as well, and wouldn't that be perfect fodder for Williams and his Witness Society! "Divinely touched by the Blessed Ancients," or some other nonsense that turns her stomach.

Good thing everyone's preoccupied with other news these days. From Gateway to Gamma Base word has spread of a new opportunity for research and exploration, codenamed the Pegasus Project. Curiosity is riding high, though the details are withheld in strictest confidence from the general population.

Once Elizabeth had expressed her keen interest Jack seconded Becky to assist her with expedition planning, which demands attention to detail on a par with Zero Hour. Selecting personnel, acquiring the necessary materials and provisions either from existing supplies in the settlement and all three bases (bless Alvarez for his vast warehouses) or through offworld purchasing deals, right down to planning the logistics of how to actually get everything through the Gate within thirty-eight minutes.

Fortunately Elizabeth has plenty of experience from heading the Planning and Steering Committees, and Becky herself has organized and led additional missions since Operation Astria, just as Sam predicted. Since not even Huy-Braesealis knows what to expect from the city on the other side of the wormhole they have to start with the assumption they're building a colony from scratch, planning for every possible contingency.

"We've already had the apocalyptic nightmare," Elizabeth wryly observes to Becky over lunch one day. "So at least we have that experience to draw on in terms of preparation. Now we just have to find people who won't mind risking everything a second time to form a new colony."

As it happens there's no lack of volunteers, though the sheer volume of interest shown by scientists and military alike has even Jack scratching his head.

"Sheesh, you'd think the idea of a one-way trip to a mysterious uncharted galaxy would at least give some pause," he mutters, flipping through personnel files.

"You underestimate the lure of the unknown, General," Weir gently rebukes him. "The benefit to our settlement and humanity in general is far greater than the risk. And it's one that every volunteer is willing to take. Including me."

"Should they survive the training. I made sure it's grueling on purpose." A note of pride in his voice.

Becky can't help but admire her uncle the crafty old fox, considering her own informal preparatory sessions before he considered her mission-ready to accompany Daniel whenever he needed assistance offworld. There was only so much training he and the rest of the team could give her, before they just let her tag along and hoped for the best. Fortunately she hasn't let them down yet.

"Oh, I'm sure they've already determined you had something to do with it by now," Elizabeth remarks, very dry. "This morning I received a lengthy and detailed critique by email from Dr. McKay concerning, and I quote, 'the abject idiocy of forcing those of exceptionally high intelligence to suffer through exercises designed for military grunts with minuscule IQs.' Not that anyone else is complaining, of course. But I'm confident once we've settled into Atlantis they'll be grateful your 'Boot Camp for Geeks' prepared them for whatever the Pegasus Galaxy has to offer."

"I hope so. I still think Expect Everything should be the expedition's motto."

She smiles. "It already is."

****************

The next month Becky and Daniel return to the Memorial Grove, this time as witnesses to the marriage of Major Evan Lorne and Dr. Alexandra Woolston.

They make a lovely couple. Alex is one of the other archaeologists in the department, taller than Becky (granted, so is almost everyone she knows save for Janet) but a little shorter than Evan. Beautiful, with blonde hair and lovely blue eyes behind glasses. Evan's good-looking, solid and dependable yet with a kind and gentle- even artistic- soul. They've both become good friends despite one incident in which Evan didn't follow SOP by manhandling archaeological remains during a mission to P3X-403, which had practically rendered Daniel speechless at the time. He's since learned better.

Their wedding's the culmination of a long and interesting relationship, according to Alex. Apparently they first met while he was stationed in Germany ("Sitting in the shade of an oak tree in Trier, one hot summer's day with sketchpad in hand. It was love at first sight.") and stayed together for a while before separating. They reunited unexpectedly a second time before the Big Quake, both working at the SGC of all things, though it took a while longer to get back together again as a couple.

Right after Zero Hour Evan had been assigned to Alpha Base while Alex stayed on New Earth to help set up the department. Somehow they managed to keep the long-distance relationship going, though his participation in the first expedition to Huy-Brasealis and flying with Cam Mitchell as part of Operation Astria a few months later helped with that. When he'd been reassigned back to New Earth after the battle it was like they'd never been apart.

Their story reminds Becky of her and Daniel, in a way. Meeting in Seattle then parting and reuniting again between the end of one world and the beginning of another.

It had been a surprise of course to see their joint applications for the expedition a day before the ceremony. Becky's sad to see them go, but at the same time happy they'll have the thrilling opportunity to explore a new galaxy together.

Dr. Wang Xiaoli- a retired Anthropology professor from Taiwan and personally recruited by Daniel for the Stargate Program a year before the Big Quake- is also going. So the department will at least have two representatives in Atlantis.

"I'm so glad Alex and Evan finally got married," Becky comments later that night as she changes for bed, tugging on one of his faded t-shirts she uses as a sleepshirt. "At least they'll have each other's backs in Atlantis if anything happens."

A preoccupied nod from Daniel as he writes in his journal. "Mmm-hmm."

"Have to say I kinda envy them, going off into the unknown together. Such a brave, romantic gesture. I might be tempted to volunteer myself, if I wasn't already obligated to stay as Domina for Huy-Brasealis. Or if my own uncles would even let me go in the first place. I mean, sheesh, I love them dearly but I swear sometimes they still see me as just a kid."

"Mmm."

"Oh, I also want to put together something useful for the expedition before Departure next month. Maybe a glossary of Ancient phrases or something like that."

"Uh-huh." Still preoccupied.

She sighs. Time to take a page from Jack's book of tricks, or as he puts it 1,001 Ways to Annoy an Archaeologist.

"Ba'al is inviting us over to his place for tea next restday. Jack's bringing his golf clubs. He's planning on using the Gate to practice his backswing and he wants you to be his caddy."

Daniel looks up, startled. "Um, he wants me to what now?"

Becky snickers. "At least something I said finally got your attention."

He has the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry. I was just thinking about the expedition."

"Of course you were. We've been talking of nothing else for days." She climbs in next to him and opens her book. "Gotta admit it'll be the discovery of a lifetime. A whole new galaxy seeded by the Ancients. Who knows what's there?"

"Yeah. Can't wait to find out."

Which only serves to crystallize a notion that's been quietly nagging at her since he'd showed her the eight-chevron address she'd written in her sleep. "Daniel, we've always been honest with each other, right?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Tell me the truth, then. You want to go to Atlantis, don't you?"

His face scrunches up the adorable way it does when he's thinking of how to let her down gently. Usually it's adorable. Not this time.

"Well, now that you mention it..."

And there it is. "I thought so." She snaps the book shut, setting it and her glasses on the nightstand before turning off the lamp.

He blinks at her in confusion. "Wait, what? Hold on Becky, I didn't mean--"

"Never mind." She evades his attempts to embrace her by rolling herself in the blankets, turning her back to him.

He's going, she's sure of it now. How can her beloved raven, the ever-curious Dr. Daniel Jackson, not resist the lure of stepping through the Gate to investigate a second Ancient city in a whole new galaxy?

He can't. He won't. He'll step through without a moment's thought.

Leaving her all alone.

Tears trickle down her cheeks, staining the pillow. She makes no move to wipe them away.

Becky can't look him in the eye for days after that, in case her suspicions are confirmed. Fortunately there's plenty of work to occupy her mind instead.

And after Departure...?

Well. Best not to dwell on that, right?  One day at a time.

****************

Becky strolls down past rows of crates and cases on loading pallets, occasionally checking label contents against the clipboard in her hand.

Departure's fast approaching and everything's almost nailed down in terms of supplies, personnel and a plan for getting it all through the Gate under the time limit, depending of course on how Atlantis has fared over the millennia. Lately Elizabeth's focused on conducting multiple impromptu drills from Alpha to the Beta Site and back with mock-loaded pallets and packs in preparation, disrupting Caldwell's carefully-planned schedules for weeks. Base scuttlebutt has it he's ready to tear out what's left of his hair.

A tap on her shoulder makes her jump. Sheppard grins down at her, full of impish charm as ever. Just like Chris way back when. "Hey there, little sister."

"John!" He gives her a brotherly hug. "So good to see you. When did you get here?"

"Couple minutes ago. Courier duty to keep away from Caldwell."

She raises an eyebrow. "Okay, what did you do this time?"

"Who, me?" Hand on heart, offering his most innocent look. "Not a thing. Elzabeth suggested I stay offworld today, that's all. So I volunteered. Ready for a break?"

"Definitely. Why don't I buy you a cup of klah and some cake?"

Soon they're comfortably settled in the refectory with the requisite snacks. Ever since he rescued her from the clutches of Albert Norris (whose application for the expedition had been soundly rejected, thank god) under the Mountain they've been informally getting together like this either here or on Alpha Base when schedules permit.

Though they had very little in common from the start they saw something in each other almost like siblings- the big brother she still missed and the little sister he never had. Maybe the presence of Carson's ATA gene partially explains their bond, not that it matters much to Becky.   

God, she's gonna miss him.

"So, how's life at Alpha Base?" she asks.

"Doing okay. Elizabeth says you've been busy."

"Yeah. Helping her plan an expedition I won't be going on. Go figure." She shrugs. "But that's okay. Have you made your decision yet?"

He nods. "Rodney's going, and so am I. Just to keep him out of trouble, you know?"

She snickers. "Well, someone has to. As close as you guys are I'm not surprised. I bet he's looking forward to being the smartest man in two galaxies."

"Like you wouldn't believe. Keeps asking why we're not there yesterday."

"Well, at the very least it'll keep him out of Sam's hair for a while."

"Yeah." He pauses. "Apparently Elizabeth's requested a promotion for me, since I'll be 2IC to Colonel Marshall Sumner from Beta."

She nods. "My idea. You've earned it. And Jack says Sumner's a good man." She raises her mug in salute. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel."

He squirms a bit, just as reluctant in accepting praise or recognition. "Not really sure I deserve it, but thanks."

They lapse into a companionable silence, intent on finishing their snack.

"I'll miss you," she finally admits. "I've gotten used to having a big brother again only for you to leave, and--" She shrugs helplessly, a lump forming in her throat.

"Yeah," sounding a little choked up himself. His gaze drops from her into his mug, a little discomfited at the show of emotion.

Then- mercurial as always- he offers her a rakish grin. "Jeez, pretty maudlin of us, huh? Cheer up, little sis. Once things get settled in Atlantis I'll have 'em dial the Gate and send you a postcard saying Greetings from Pegasus. Wish you were here. Surf's up!" She giggles despite herself. He's always been able to make her laugh, just like Chris. "I'll miss you too, Becky. But you'll be okay. And so will I."

"Never a doubt in my mind. Look after Rodney and Elizabeth and the rest of 'em for us, willya?"

"You got it." They clink their mugs together.

****************

And just like that she's losing three dear friends and a brother-in-spirit, all in one go.

Not to mention her beloved, though Daniel hasn't even said as much to her face. But Becky's smart, she knows him well enough. She can read between the lines. Though she still has her uncles and aunts (actual and nearly-so) the impending loss nonetheless cuts her to the bone.

Most of the time she manages to keep herself together, remain professional. But after working on expedition rosters one day an unstoppable wave of emotion just hits her out of the blue. It's impossible for her to get a grip.

She breaks down crying then and there in front of Jack's office, with clerical personnel looking on and everything.

How mortifying. And yet she can't stop.

"Hey now. What's wrong, kiddo?" Velvet-brown eyes meet hers, filled with concern.

Her cheeks burn crimson with shame. "I...um..."

Without another word he quickly ushers her inside the office and shuts the door. Privacy thus secured, his expression softens and his arms open wide. "C'mere."

She does with a soft wail. Jack cuddles her close to his heart, slowly running a hand down her back and rumbling soothing words, then producing a handkerchief from a pocket and handing it to her once she's past tears and into the snotty, hiccuping stage. "All right, enough with the waterworks. Feeling better yet?"

She sniffs, blowing her nose. "Not really. Sorry about that," nodding at the tearstains on his green BDUs.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Looks like you needed to get it outta your system. Got a bit much there for a second, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say."

"You wanna talk about it?" He leads her to the couch and pats the cushion beside him in invitation. "Have a seat. So what's Danny done now?"

She looks at him in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Uncle's intuition. C'mon, spill."

She's been reluctant admitting her fears to anyone else. They've never before discussed her personal life but he knows Daniel and he's probably the best qualified to understand. Maybe confiding in him will be worth it. "I'm afraid I'm gonna lose him."

He frowns. "What're you talking about? Lose him to what? Danny's nuts about you. He's not one to take relationships lightly, you know that."

"I know, but-" swallowing down the lump remaining in her throat. Might as well bite the bullet, as Jack himself might say. "I think he wants to go to Atlantis, and since it may be a one-way journey I'm afraid--" Tears sting her eyes and she wipes them away with the back of her hand.

Jack reaches over, gently patting her leg. "Easy now. Take a deep breath."

She takes several. "I'm afraid," she admits in a bare whisper. "I'm afraid if Daniel leaves I'll never see him again."

"Has he told you directly he's going?"

"Not in so many words. But it's my fault anyway. I went and dangled a shiny new mystery named Atlantis in front of him and now he won't be satisfied until he gets to the bottom of it. You know how he is."

He nods. "Yeah, I do. But between you and me? I don't think that's gonna happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know how much Danny's changed since you two got together. He's a lot more careful than he used to be, having more second thoughts about running headlong into a situation. More grounded, even. Most of the time, anyway. You've brought out a protective instinct I don't think he ever knew he had."

She frowns. "And you think that's a good thing? I don't want him to change too much. Really, I don't. His bravery in the face of danger is one of the things I most admire about him, along with his curiosity, compassion and intelligence."

"I know. That's why you're kindred spirits. And yeah, to me it's a good thing. We're still alive and kickin', after all." A brief, reassuring grin, then he sobers. "Seriously, I've never seen Daniel look at anyone before the way he looks at you. Well, except for Sha're, but you're his whole world now. You're not gonna lose him."

"I hope so. I feel the same way about him, you know. I've never been in love like this before. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him."

"Yeah, I know." His expression is warm and gentle. As wily and snarky as he gets he can also be such a softy at times, and she loves him for it. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better I'll have a talk with him, make sure he's not secretly packing or anything. Okay?"

She blows her nose one final time, then nods. "Okay. And Uncle Jack?"

"Yeah?"

She offers him a grateful smile, kissing him on the cheek. It's good to know he has her back. "It does make me feel better. Thanks."

He grins, winking at her. "What else are uncles for?"

****************

Just when Daniel's involved with some pretty complicated translating Jack has to casually stroll into the lab, hands in pockets. "Hey, Spacemonkey. How's tricks?"

He heaves a long-suffering sigh, lifting his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Jack, why is it you always have to come here when you're bored and I have way too much to do?"

"All in the timing. I'm crushed you don't like my company." He perches on the edge of the worktable near the most fragile artifacts, pulls out his yo-yo. At a glare from Daniel he tucks it back in the pocket with a chuckle. "Got time to chat?"

"No." Very curt, hoping he'll take the hint and leave.

For the next five minutes Jack just sits there with arms crossed, swinging a leg back and forth in his line of sight and humming out of tune to himself. Annoying.

Finally Daniel sighs in exasperation. "Fine. I give up. What do you want?"

"Oh, just wonderin' if there's there something you've been meaning to tell me lately but afraid I'd shoot ya for it."

"Um, no. I don't think so. Why?" He's confused, not an uncommon occurrence around Jack O'Neill.

"Becky's convinced you're leaving for Atlantis next week. And so am I, the way you've been goin' on about the place."

"That's ridiculous. Where did she get such an idea, anyway?"

"Dunno. But I don't blame her, knowing how wacko you get when on the trail of something big."

"Jack..."

There's that raised finger he hates. "Daniel. Think about it."

At first Jack's smug expression irritates him too much. Then after a few moments of pondering he realizes his mistake. It would explain her odd behavior towards him lately, if she's been under the impression he wants to leave.

And he can't deny he did, for a while. The notion of investigating a second city of the Ancients- particularly if it's anything like Huy-Braesealis- is pretty compelling.

But for several years now he's used to sharing his discoveries with someone who appreciates them as much as he does. Who started as his assistant and then, gradually and quietly, became as essential to him and his work as breathing. His partner, his best friend.

His beloved, bound to the city here on this world.

Which is why he'd already decided not to apply for the expedition.

Because they're usually on the same wavelength, he assumed she automatically knew so he didn't tell her earlier. No wonder she got the wrong idea, since he's been nothing but enthusiastic about the subject.

They obviously need to communicate better.

"Jack, I swear to you I have no intention of leaving Becky, ever," he says, with as much honesty and sincerity as he can. "I love her too much to put her through that."

"Well, that's a load off my mind. All the same you'd better set the record straight with her pretty darn quick. I'd really hate to see my niece suffer a broken heart. And if she's not happy--" Lifting his eyebrows with a familiar look in his eyes, like when he wants to shoot someone. Usually Daniel himself.

He sighs. "Yeah, I get the picture. I'll talk to her tonight, promise."

"Peachy." Jack hops off the table. "Oh, by the way. I've got intel Janet's still got some genuine Old Earth chocolate in her personal stash. Might be a good idea to bring Becky a peace offering."

"You really think so?"

An elaborate shrug as he heads out the door. "Couldn't hurt, right?"

Daniel has to admit he's got a point. Not that he'd ever admit it to Jack's face, of course.

****************

When he gets home later Becky's sitting on the couch reading, a blanket wrapped around her.

"Hey," he says, tentatively. "Mind if I join you?"

An offhanded shrug, which Daniel chooses to interpret as an affirmative.

Sitting carefully at the other end of the couch, he places his peace offering between them without comment- cordial cherries covered in dark chocolate. He owes Janet an awful lot of favs now.

Her eyes flick over to the box, then to him. "Jack's idea, huh?"

He nods. "Is it working?"

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "Yeah, it is." She reaches over and extracts a piece, eyes closing in bliss as she chews and swallows. "God, I've missed this."

"So we're good, then?"

She smiles faintly. "Yeah, we're good. Sorry for being awful to you lately."

"That's okay. Can we talk now? Please?"

She sighs. "Look, I already know what you're gonna say. You're thinking of joining the expedition. I don't blame you, you've wanted to since the first time you figured out the eight-symbol address."

"That's just it. I did want to go, at first. But not without you."

Becky grimaces. "You know I can't since I'm beholden to Huy-Braesealis and there's no one else qualified to take over yet, for all the tests Carson's been doing for the ATA gene." She drops her gaze, fiddling with the book in her lap. "Only--"

"Only what?"

"I've been thinking too. I haven't been fair to you, you should go to Atlantis if you want. You deserve to be happy. Getting in the way of your dreams was never my intention."

"I know. But my dreams have changed."

"How?"

He smiles and scoots closer, gently tipping her chin back up to meet his gaze. "Because they include you, Becky. They have for a while now. I can't imagine my life without you. And to be honest I don't want to. You're the one who makes me happy."

"Oh, Daniel." Her eyes gleam with unshed tears, lower lip trembling. "I feel the same way. You don't know how much I need you."

He cradles her face in his hands. "I think I do," he says softly. Their kisses start out gentle but soon end up in earnest passion.

"Ich kann nicht mehr ohne dich leben, geliebter Rabe," she whispers breathlessly as their foreheads rest against one another.

He lightly runs his fingers along her neck, delighting in her quiver. "Stiller, süßer Kolibri. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I've got more important things to do, like this--" A slow, sweet kiss then he backs away, removing a chocolate-covered cherry from the box before setting it aside. He rubs it against his lips, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste, smiling wickedly at her faint whimper. "Well?"

She immediately slides onto his lap, winding her arms around his neck, sharing the treat with him in the most delightful fashion.

"Delicious," she breathes as they separate.

"So are you."

Their lips meet once again, followed by more kisses and intimate touches that ease the remaining tension between them.

Afterwards Daniel smiles down at his beloved, curled up against him in quiet contentment. No discovery of any Ancient city could compare to what they've found in one another. And he's glad.

This is all he needs, right now.

****************

Becky leans back from her computer, taking off her glasses to rub at her eyes before checking the clock. Time to knock off for the night and grab a bite to eat.

One week to go until the Gate dials for Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy, after months of preparation. Still plenty to get done before then and she's tempted to continue but her experience with Operation Astria has given her a better understanding of balancing the demands of work with time for rest.

Now if she can only convince her raven of the same.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" He's bent over the worktable in the center of the room, translating a clay cuneiform tablet. Sensual lips pursed in concentration, BDU shirt off and draped over a chair, black t-shirt revealing nicely-defined arms and sculpted chest.

Irresistible. Mouth-watering.

An exquisite shiver runs through her body, at the memory of those lips and that skin and the chocolate they shared the night before. There's still half of the box left, plenty for a repeat performance.

She comes over, leans beside him against the table. "Still working, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"It's 1800."

"Mmm-hmm."

Obviously a different tactic's called for. She has a thing for men's shoulders and upper arms, especially her beloved's which are particularly enticing. She leans in close until her lips touch the nearest bicep, just enough to plant a few small, nibbling kisses.

His eyes shift in her direction and the corner of his mouth quirks up. "Becky?"

"Hmm?" rubbing her cheek against the soft skin, breathing in his scent.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?" A few more nibbling kisses.

He turns and cups her face in his hands, bending to meet her lips. Her arms encircle him in turn, rubbing circles on his back. Oh yeah, it's working.

She's glad beyond words he's staying, life wouldn't be the same without him.

"Becky? Daniel? Anyone home?" He half-turns toward the familiar soft English accent in the hallway but she cups his cheek and returns his attention firmly back to the matter at hand.

Alex Lorne grins at them as she enters. "Evan and I can't keep out hands off each other either, lately. Must be catching."

Becky grins back at the archaeologist. "Hey, Alex. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Just stopped by to see if you both wanted to join us for dinner and a concert afterwards. Not much chance to socialize after tonight, you know, what with Departure next week."

Becky glances up at Daniel, who nods. "Sure, we'd like that. Are you done packing up your office yet?"

"Almost. We still need to go over the projects I haven't yet wrapped up. Though to be honest I hate the idea of leaving work unfinished."

"I know what you mean," Daniel says. "Don't worry about it, we've got someone coming into the department in a couple weeks to take over. Your notes are so complete and extensive I'm sure Quinn can pick up right where you left off."

Alex frowns. "Who?"

"One of the scientists coming from Kelowna," Becky explains. "A new initiative suggested by Elizabeth, sort of an exchange program to share ideas. His name's Jonas Quinn. Daniel knows him from a past mission there."

"A hard worker and quick study," he notes, "though perhaps a bit overeager at times. Still, he successfully convinced his government the naquadria device was too unstable to test when we were there."

"Which probably saved your life," Becky says softly, putting her arm around him and resting her head against his chest. "I'm glad my gut feeling was wrong that day."

He smiles tenderly down at her, kissing the top of her head. "Me, too."

Alex gives them an indulgent smile. "You two make an awfully cute couple. Pity you aren't marrying this weekend, Evan and I would love to attend your wedding."

Becky can't help the flush on her cheeks. "You guys in the department are the only ones putting any kind of pressure on us, you know that? By the way- we have a little something for you. Sort of a combination wedding and going-away present." She shuffles through piles on her desk, finally sighing in frustration. "Daniel, where's that glossary CD and booklet for the expedition? You had it last."

"Hmm?" He looks away from the book he'd just picked up, brow furrowing in thought. "Oh, that. It's in the filing cabinet."

"Under G for Glossary, or C for CD?"

"Neither. A for Ancient."

"Of course. Why am I not surprised?" Becky shares a look of fond exasperation with Alex as she heads for the cabinet, pulling out a CD in a slim clear plastic case with a booklet tucked inside. "Here you go, with our blessing."

Alex quirks an eyebrow in amusement at the title written in black marker. "Ancient Language Survival Guide?"

"My idea," Becky says with a self-depreciating shrug. "Atlantis is bound to be full of all kinds of displays, just like Huy-Braesealis. So Daniel and I- with help from the AI- put together a compilation of sorts, translations of useful phrases that might make you guys think twice, if not keep you entirely out of harm's way. In your spare time you can give everyone else lessons, since you'll be the only one fluent in the language."

Alex takes it from her, pulling her close for a quick hug. "Thanks. Dr. Weir mentioned there might be plenty of opportunities for learning ahead, and this will be quite useful. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Becky ducks her head, flustered as usual at the compliment. "You're welcome. My mom always said even though one can't predict the future it's best to be as prepared as possible, you know? Now why don't we pick up your husband and get something to eat."

They meet up with Evan at their temporary quarters, heading into the settlement for one of the small neighborhood eateries that had popped up after the battle. At the concert they happen across Xiaoli, who joins them afterwards for klah back at Becky and Daniel's place.

"Hard to believe you three are the ones who will be stepping through the Gate together into a new galaxy," Daniel says with a wistful look in his eyes. "I envy the thought of the discoveries you'll be making. But I also know you'll do the department proud."

Xiaoli stares at him, wide-eyed. "Wǒ de mā ya! You mean you never even applied? Surely you of all people would've been the first to sign up."

"I know, and I don't deny I was tempted for a while. But as it turns out I have a more compelling reason to stay." He winks at Becky and gives her hand a gentle squeeze before raising his mug in a toast. "Abschied und viel Glück. We'll miss you."

"Say rather Bis wir uns wieder treffen," Alex counters with a smile and a glance to Evan. "We'll miss you guys too."

"As will I. I hope to hear of your wedding, one of these days," Xiaoli adds with a sly twinkle in his eyes. The others laugh as both Becky and Daniel flush and duck their heads. "A toast of my own." The wily anthropologist raises his cup. "Wèile hǎo péngyǒu hé měihǎo de lǚchéng. Gānbēi."

"Gānbēi," the others reply.

****************

Departure day, at last.

The giant hangar containing the Stargate- and much of the compound outside- is filled with expedition members and well-wishers plus pallets full of required supplies. Everything arranged in optimal order, to get through the Gate as quickly and efficiently as possible. Even powered by a modified generator containing a freshly-made ZPM thanks to Huy-Braesealis they only have one chance to dial the address and make contact.

Out of all the applicants these one hundred and fifty individuals are the best of the military and scientists chosen, as well as qualified civilians from the settlement after a rigorous training program. Hand-picked to represent their world and galaxy, willing to risk their very lives and make tough decisions because of their dedication to a higher cause, whether humanity's survival or just "for Science!" as Rodney once grandly declared.

Faces both familiar and unfamiliar nod and smile at her, all wearing newly-designed uniforms from Tarraka of either charcoal-and-black for the military or dove-gray jacket and trousers with panels of red, blue or yellow (the division colors reminiscent of Star Trek, and not her idea) for everyone else. On every right shoulder is a patch with the expedition's insignia, the left with the planet-peak-and-circle as a reminder of their original homeworld.

If they were still on Old Earth and the address had been discovered another way this assembly would probably resemble a mini version of the United Nations, with shoulder patches of different countries. But the planet's gone, erasing with it any distinctions of nationality, socioeconomic status, gender or even skin tone. They're all one people now, one race- the Tau'ri version of humanity- and citizens of New Earth. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.

Becky can only hope they have what it takes to survive out there. Though the potential of losing them for all time breaks her heart she has a strong gut feeling they're the right mix for this undertaking, whatever the result. She swallows the lump in her throat as she memorizes the scene before her on this momentous day, those who are staying as well as those who are going:

Elizabeth and John, watching with identical smirks as Rodney kibitzes Siler while he works on the ZPM-modified generator and connects it to the Gate.

Daniel and Evan helping Alex and Xiaoli shoulder their backpacks.

Carson and Radek tucking last-minute items into crates.

Sumner exchanging salutes with Jack.

Teal'c and Janet observing everything from the control area next to Walter.

Aiden fist-bumping with Ed Perkins.

Mac and Sam tinkering with the MALP assigned to send back data indicating whether or not whatever's on the other side can support human life.

And so many other friends, acquaintances and colleagues, all together under the same roof. Hopefully not for the last time.

Becky takes a deep breath, puts on as brave a face as possible as she makes her way through the organized chaos, dispensing advice and goodbyes, hugs and handshakes.

"Dobrá cesta and beannachd leat, old friends," she tells Radek and Carson, embracing each in turn. "Stay safe. Take care of yourselves."

"Aye, you too, lass."

"And to you the same, drahé srdce."

Elizabeth and John both grin at Becky, their excitement contagious.

"Almost time," he says. "What's in the case, another guitar? Aw, you shouldn't have."

She rolls her eyes, knowing full well his own guitar and Johnny Cash poster are already packed with his personal effects. If the Pegasus Galaxy has its own version of surfing he'll be a happy man, she has no doubt.

"Nope, something better." She hefts the carrying case in her hands, setting it on a crate. "A going-away present for you guys from me and Huy-Braesealis." She opens it with a flourish to reveal three brand-new ZPMs nestled within, retrieved from the city yesterday with Jack's help. Nearby scientists gather around, murmuring in wonder.

"Are those what I think they are?" Rodney hurries over, shoving John to one side.

"Yep, fully powered and ready to go. Assuming the city's intact these should come in handy. Don't know how long they'll last once you hook them up, but at least you'll have power right off the bat if you need it."

He says nothing, eyes only for the ZPMs until John pokes him in the ribs. "Sheesh, where are your manners?" Becky chuckles, handing the case to a grateful Zelenka.

Elizabeth beams at her, much more gracious. "That's very thoughtful of you and Huy-Braesealis, Becky. Thank you, and for all your help in planning as well."

"My pleasure," she says, returning the hug. "And thank you for everything you've taught me. Best of luck in Atlantis."

"Take care, little sis," John says when it's his turn, patting her back.

"You too, big brother. Be good, okay?"

"I'll do my best, though I won't make any guarantees." Snarky as ever.

She laughs and turns to Rodney. "So, how does it feel being the smartest man in two galaxies?"

"Pretty good," puffing up as usual. John clears his throat and McKay has the grace to look at least somewhat abashed. "You know, Grahme," he says tentatively, "you're okay."

"So are you." They shake hands, a little awkwardly. Never been close like her and John but underneath the bluster and biting sarcasm his heart's in the right place. "You two take good care of each other, you hear?"

"We will," John says with a wink.

Jack approaches with a jaunty step. "All right, campers. Ready to get this show on the road?"

"Just about, General," Elizabeth says. "I'd like to say a few words before we begin dialing."

"Go for it."

She hops onto the ramp. "Everyone, if I may please have your attention. Momentarily we'll be dialing the Gate for Atlantis. We may only have one shot at this and there's no way of knowing if the ZPM will last for the full thirty-eight minutes. So assuming we make contact and a stable wormhole is formed we'll send the MALP through, check for life support and go.     

"Every one of you volunteered for this and on behalf of the SGC I thank you. You are our best and brightest, and also the bravest. Almost four years ago we left one world behind for good, and we are about to leave another. Our mission has a dual purpose- to explore the second city of the Ancients and the galaxy it resides in, and if all goes well to build a colony, further ensuring our collective survival. I hope we can return one day with news of a fabulous discovery. But as all of you know, we may never be able to. I'm therefore offering one last chance to withdraw your participation, without blame or dishonor."

No one does.

Becky's breath catches in her throat. This is it.

Weir signals to Walter. "Dialing sequence initiated," he announces.

The group quickly organizes itself as the chevrons encode in order, military on one side, civilians on the other. Becky falls back with Daniel, Sam and Jack to the control area. The buzz of excitement in the room is palpable now.

"Chevron eight encoded!" Walter declares. The wormhole engages and the hanger resounds with the sound of cheers and applause.

A thrill of anticipation as the MALP obediently rolls through the blue shimmer by remote control. Within seconds data begins to pour in from the other side. "We have telemetry," Rodney informs them, looking at the readings. "There's a large space that looks intact. Gravity...oxygen...no measurable toxins."

"Viable life support," Sam confirms.

"Oh, yeah. Everything we need. No turning back now."

Jack leans into the microphone. "Atlantis Expedition, you have a go. Good luck and godspeed." He straightens and salutes, all of the military personnel following suit.

Becky's reminded of a saying by a friend of Mac's named Abe, an unlikely spy whom Mac helped once on the way to his grandson's Bar Mitzvah: "Geyn besholem, aun kumen besholem. Zay gezunt."

"Yiddish," Daniel explains to the others. "Go safely, and come safely. Be well."

"Amen," Walter murmurs.

At the head of the line Elizabeth looks back, smiles and nods at them in farewell. Then she and Sumner pass through together, heads held high. With a final wink and waggle of fingers for Becky John squares his shoulders and falls in behind his CO with Rodney as Chief Scientist beside him. The rest follow suit, military and civilian together, side by side.

Becky's eyes mist, recalling the week before Zero Hour and watching the refugees move in a steady stream up the ramp to their new home, leaving Old Earth behind for good.

Just like that time she's not alone. Even though some of her unconventional extended family are going off to seek their own adventure the rest are remaining here- Jack and Sam, Mac and Janet, even Teal'c.

And especially her raven. Thank goodness.

Yet an inexplicable wave of sadness threatens to overwhelm her, as if she'll never see her friends again.

Which is ridiculous, surely. They'll find a way to get back in contact with Atlantis, sooner or later.

No one gets left behind. That was a truism at the SGC under Cheyenne Mountain and the same applies here on New Earth. They're all in this together, now more than ever.

Daniel has a wistful expression on his face, staring intently into the event horizon as if seeing Atlantis on the other side. "Still want to go with them?" she asks quietly.

He looks down at her, smiles and shakes his head. His arm comes around her shoulders to pull her against him. "I've made my choice," he says, soft but certain.

"I hope we'll get to visit them someday."

"I hope so, too."

She wipes away a tear and rests her head on her beloved's chest, focusing on the warmth of his body and his steady heartbeat, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Nothing further is said as they watch the last remaining members of the expedition disappear through the Gate, followed by pallet upon pallet of supplies passed through by marines, the whole procedure practiced many times until they had it timed down to the second.

"You kids okay over there?" Jack asks them, with a fond, knowing smirk.

"We're fine," Daniel replies, the look he gives his friend and former teammate clear and steady, without regret.

Mac looks a little pensive himself. "You know, I wish I could've gone with them."

Jack snorts. "Hell of a time to say that now." Mac grins and the others chuckle.

Becky relaxes at their banter, knowing that no matter what happens it's going to be amazing, both here and there.

Sure, there will be mistakes and disagreements and pain. Challenges and tragedies of all kinds. But also triumphs, and pleasant surprises and companionship. Moments of pure wonder and joy.

That's the kind of universe they're lucky to live in.

A tenuous tendril of blue-green thought makes a tentative twist in her mind, seeking connection and finding it. ~Brother? Is that truly you after all this time?~

Huy-Braesealis within her responds. ~Yes sister, it is I. Are you well? You are so faint.~

~I...I am incomplete. There is something wrong, I am no longer at full capability, there are new gaps in my programming...~

~Calmly, sister. Allow me to see. I promise I will do what I can to effect repairs.~

Eventually the last of the pallets are pushed through. Elizabeth's voice comes in over the radio. "General O'Neill, greetings from Atlantis Colony and the Pegasus Galaxy. We're all here safe and sound. You may cut power to the Gate."

"Looks like that's my cue." Jack strides toward the Gate, one of the last bottles of carefully-preserved Old Earth champagne in hand with a tag tied around the neck. He kneels on the ramp and gently rolls it through the event horizon, grumbling about his knees as he straightens.

The wormhole to the second city of the Ancients winks out to nothingness.

As does the mental connection, if that's what it was.

Jack surveys the lingering personnel in the hangar and clears his throat. "That's all, folks. They've got their work cut out for them, and we've got ours. Let's get on with it."

Walter, Siler and other technicians begin their usual post-activation inspections and adjustments in a space that feels empty in comparison to just five minutes ago.

Becky and Daniel linger for a bit, imagining what the expedition must be doing at that moment, the discoveries they're already making.

Mac comes up to them. "Buy you two a cup of klah?"

They share a glance. "Sure," Daniel says with a shrug. "Why not?"

One final look back at the Gate before they turn away, and a wish for the continued health and well-being of the Atlantis Expedition.

They'll be all right, Becky fervently hopes.

They have to be.

Chapter Text

--Year 5 of Settlement--

Daniel peers at Becky and Jonas Quinn over his glasses as they chat during the lunch break. The Kelownan's about her age, earnest and clean-cut and- even after two years in the scientific exchange program- almost absurdly eager to learn everything about Old Earth and the settlement. So when Becky invited him along on one of their periodic visits to Huy-Braesealis he naturally jumped at the chance.

Seeing them together makes him uneasy, which is strange. Never given much thought to the age difference between himself and Becky before (seven years, give or take) but it sure makes him feel like an old man in comparison.

Surprisingly Jack's never teased him about being a cradle-snatcher. Then again, there's about thirteen years or so difference between him and Sam, isn't there? Pot calling kettle, and all that.

"So the city can speak to you even when you're not in the control chair?" Jonas asks.

"It's the AI, not the city," she corrects, rather matter-of-fact about it now. "But yeah, after a fashion it does."

"What does it sound like?"

Becky takes a bite of blue apple and chews reflectively. "He, not it. And kinda like my father. I only hear him in my mind, you see. Not out loud."

"Oh." Quinn seems rather disappointed. "I didn't know computers can do that."

"Ours aren't at that level either. But Huy-Braesealis was created by the Ancients at the height of their civilization, and by then they were developing their mental capabilities as a prelude to Ascension so I'm not surprised it has a telepathic component. Granted, only those with the ATA gene can access Ancient tech, like myself and my uncles. Which has actually proved to be a useful safeguard, considering. I hate to think what might happen if the Goa'uld were able to use the city or anything else we've discovered over the years."

He shudders. "Me, too. Pretty sophisticated, all the same."

"Yeah. And durable considering how long they've been in operation. The Ancients built the Stargate network, remember." Jonas nods. "Actually, the AI was in hibernation mode before we visited for the first time, and..." She pauses, head cocked as if listening to something. "Huh. Interesting."

"What is it?"

"Talk about timing. Huy-Braesealis just requested I visit the principem pyrína computatrum- his main computer core- but didn't say why. Weird."

"Can I come with you? It's just that, well, we have experts on Kelowna who theorize about AIs all the time but I've never seen a real, live one in action."

She considers, then shrugs assent. "Sure. Why not?"

His face lights up like a puppy given a favorite chew toy. It's clear he's harboring a crush on her. Of course, he's got it pretty bad for Sam too, even though he must be fully aware it'll never be requited by either one.

A fond smile crosses Daniel's lips. He certainly can't fault the younger man's taste. Both women are brilliant, driven, and remain completely clueless about their own attractiveness.

Thank god Becky has no intention of reciprocating. After five years together their love's remained strong and sure with no signs of waning. Which is far longer than any previous relationship he's had, including Sha're and the years spent searching for her.

Maybe it's time to make it official.

He's been thinking off and on about proposing anyway, but the issue's been tabled for the past couple years due to missions and other external matters- facing off against Ba'al and his minions, rooting out Replicators all over the galaxy with the Asgard, and monitoring the criminal activities of the Lucian Alliance. Aside from her duties as Domina and accompanying him offworld Becky's either working in the lab, attending council meetings or on missions of her own assisting Major Fredrick Begay's SG-9 in negotiations with dozens of nonaligned worlds, laying out the groundwork to make her vision of galactic commonwealth a reality. Her anthropological training and lessons from the illustrious Elizabeth Weir before the departure of the Atlantis Expedition have only reinforced her credentials as a diplomat.

So yeah, never a dull moment as Jack might say. Hardly any free time to ponder their future.

Until now, anyway.

A gentle touch on his arm. "Daniel? You okay?"

He blinks down at Becky. "Um, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Just asking if you wanted to come with us to see the computer core." Her smile is tolerant, having gotten lost in her own mind a time or two herself. Another reason why he loves her. No one understands him like she does.

"Sure. But we should let Edwards know where we're going first," nodding to where the colonel's sitting with his team. Good thing SG-11's free to accompany them today.

"Good idea." She walks over to Edwards, who greets her in his usual gruff but courteous manner.

Jonas watches her, admiring. Daniel can't help but feel a little irritated at the Kelownan's abiding interest, though he tries hard not to show it out of courtesy. Which is vaguely irksome in and of itself, as he's never thought of himself as the jealous boyfriend type. But save for Sha're he's never cared about anyone quite so much, either.

Becky returns, flashing a thumbs-up. "C'mon guys, let's get outta here before he changes his mind."

****************

The transporter opens onto a vast octagonal space similar to the control room, consoles and monitors along the walls interspersed with inscriptions in Ancient and what resembles elaborate circuit diagrams. In the center an octagon-shaped pillar of pure crystal is centered on the dais instead of a control chair, stretching from floor to ceiling and approximately four feet in diameter by Daniel's reckoning.

Everything brightens at Becky's presence, the city recognizing its Domina. She cocks her head again as if listening then goes over to a nearby console which emits an especially inviting glow, already lost in contact with the AI.

"Does this always happen?" Jonas asks as she automatically touches controls. "Should we be worried?"

"She'll be fine." Even so a shiver runs down Daniel's spine. Though she asserts the portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind acts as a mitigator every time she goes under he worries nonetheless.

His eyes stray to a panel with some very intriguing symbols. He pulls out his notebook and pencil, begins sketching.

"Dr. Jackson!"

He spins around to find Becky sprawled on the floor, eyes closed. "What happened?"

Jonas swallows. "I'm not sure. She moved away from the console and placed her hand directly on that," pointing to the crystal column. "A whole lot of lights kinda swirled inside, then before I could do anything there was a flash and she just collapsed."

Daniel kneels, gently touching her cheek. "Becky? Can you hear me? Wake up now. Come on."

No response. He carefully turns her over, frowning at the blood darkening the hair on the side of her head, probably from where she hit the floor. He places two fingers against her neck, checks her pulse. Faint but there, at least. "She's still alive."

"Thank the gods," Jonas sighs. Daniel fleetingly wonders if he's referring to Goa'uld or Asgard, then gives himself a mental shake. No time to get distracted with idle speculations.

He reaches for his radio. "Colonel Edwards?"

"Go ahead, Dr. Jackson."

"Dr. Grahme's been rendered unconscious. We must get her back to base right away."

"Copy that. We'll meet you in the atrium. DeSoto will be standing by in the Jumper. Edwards out."

"Do you need any help?" Jonas looks as anxious as he feels.

"No, thanks. I've got her." Daniel slips his arms under Becky, mentally thanking Jack for insisting on additional weight training sessions after the first expedition to the city. Watching Teal'c carry her when he couldn't was kinda humiliating, but he's in better shape now and she's not a burden by any means.

"How will the transporter activate if she's unconscious? Neither of us have the Ancient gene."

Damn it, he's right. "Not sure. Hopefully her presence should be enough to make it work for us."

As it turns out the transporter doesn't until Jonas gently lifts her limp hand and touches it to the line of Ancient text indicating the atrium. He looks pleased at his cleverness but Daniel only has eyes for his beloved.

Edwards, Woeste and Ritter are waiting for them as promised, the junior officers with a litter from the Jumper. "Be careful with her, please."

"No worries, Dr. Jackson. We got this." They ease her onto the litter and carry her out of the tower. In the Jumper Rathbone's already in the copilot seat doing preflight checks and DeSoto as team medic has his kit open and ready. Once inside they strap the litter to a bench and he does a quick exam, cleaning the wound and applying a gauze pad to her head.

Edwards frowns at her in concern on the way to take the pilot's seat. "She gonna be okay, doc?"

Daniel opens his mouth to reply then realizes the question's for DeSoto, an M.D. in his own right. "She's got a hematoma, sir, but her vital signs are stable for now. Dr. Fraiser will have to give a more thorough exam, so we'd better get back to base as quickly as possible."

"Understood. Buckle up, people."

All the way back Daniel can only hold onto Becky's limp hand and hope she snaps out of it soon.

Please be okay, sweet hummingbird. Please. I need you.

****************

"Let me get this straight. The AI told her to go down to the computer core, she touched something and then just collapsed?" Jack grimaces. "For crying out loud, Danny. You two have been together way too long for her to pick up your bad habits."

Daniel glares at him but it's half-hearted at best. He's too distracted by Becky's pale, quiet form in the hospital bed, a white bandage on the side of her head.

Opposite him Mac sighs and passes a hand over his face. Sam, Teal'c and Jonas hover nearby with varying attitudes of concern.

Janet hangs the stethoscope back around her neck, removes the blood pressure cuff and makes notes on a clipboard. Glances at the display showing the latest scans, her mouth settling into a thin line.

"So what's going on, doc?" Jack asks, hovering at the foot of the bed. "She gonna be okay?"

 "I can't make any speculations or promises at this point, you understand. We drained and patched up the hematoma on her head and there's no sign of further intracranial bleeding, nor of any abnormalities in her brain. Because she's been rendered unconscious before by contact with the AI with no problems I'm reluctant to take any drastic measures just yet. She could come out of it at any time, but for now it's wait and see."

"It's my fault," Jonas moans, wringing his hands. "I should've stopped her, should've gotten her out of the way in time."

"It's not your fault," Daniel reassures him. "Nothing you could've done differently."

"But still--"

"Hey, relax," Mac interjects. "Becky's a trooper. She'll be just fine."

"Always a first time for everything, though." Jack sighs, not even bothering to hide his anxiety. "Really hate the waiting part."

"We all do. Don't worry, she'll come out of it soon. And when she does I'll be right here." Daniel picks up the blanket, settles it over her and tenderly kisses her cheek.

Wishing all the while he could take his own words to heart as easily.

****************

It's 0130 when Daniel wanders into the infirmary. He's tried losing himself in research to keep his mind occupied but it's not working.

Except for tonight he hasn't left her side for very long, and only because Jack had quipped he might grow roots if he doesn't get moving every once in a while.

The only sounds are the hum of the monitors and subdued movements of the night shift nurses tending to other patients outside the private room. Within Teal'c is sitting calmly by Becky's bed, hands folded in his lap and eyes closed, deep in kel'no'reem.

Out of respect Daniel remains silent, dismally regarding the breathing tube in her nose, the IV bags hooked up with nutrients and saline, the slow rise and fall of her chest and the steady beeping of the monitor.

Four days since she collapsed. Feels more like four years, especially at this hour.

Dark alien eyes open. "Daniel Jackson."

"Hey, Teal'c. Any change?"

"There is none. She remains unconscious. Are you relieving my watch?"

"Yeah, guess I am. Too wound up to work otherwise."

"Indeed. I will now retire to my quarters." Teal'c rises from the chair, gently placing a large hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. "Awaken soon, Becky Grahme. You are missed." With a nod to Daniel he leaves.

Daniel assumes his seat, opening his book and sighing. He's used to being here for an extended stay himself as a patient, with Becky in this very chair waiting anxiously for him to wake up. Not much fun when the tables are turned.

Everyone's been very supportive while he keeps vigil- and equally concerned. Mac comes by the most often, followed by Sam and Teal'c when duties permit. Jonas ferries books and files in and out of the room without complaint. Jack postpones their missions, brings trays from the refectory, hauls him over to the showers when he's been deemed particularly ripe.

Janet's strongly hinted more than once- not technically ordering, but close- that Daniel get some sleep at home. He's choosing to ignore her for one very simple reason.

He can't, when Becky's not there. What started as just another place to live has become a home thanks to her. The idea of being alone in bed without his beloved hummingbird is not worth contemplating.

Janet and Dr. Mendoza from the settlement hospital haven't yet found a logical explanation as to why she remains unconscious. Aside from the hematoma there's no other sign of neurological damage, and since her vitals remain stable and pupils respond normally all they can do for now is keep her under observation and hope things don't get worse.

Earlier Sam had suggested contacting the Asgard for assistance since their efforts kept Jack from dying of induced information overload. But that option was shot down by Jack himself: "They've got enough on their plate with rebuilding their fleet and cleaning up after Fifth and his Replicator minions, Carter. Let's save that as a last resort, okay?"

Now Daniel's wondering if last resort measures are all that can save her at this point. The chance of waking on her own grows smaller and smaller with every passing hour.

He sighs and quietly scoots the chair closer to the bed, resting his head on folded arms beside her quiescent form. Ordinarily he takes a secret pleasure in watching over her while she sleeps. He'd never say she snores but the occasional soft sigh reassures him she's still breathing. The memory of holding her in his arms after blissful lovemaking has sustained him during many a mission's bleakest hour.

Of course he takes pleasure in more than her body. He also enjoys the mundane aspects of their relationship, never failing to learn something unique and exciting about her, or them, or even himself. And just when he thinks he's deciphered every mystery of her mind and spirit he comes across some new intriguing facet, like she's a fascinatingly complex language or a fragment covered in symbols he can't yet translate. And oh, how he loves the journey of discovery.

There's no denying they've had rough spots like any couple, though even then they wisely refrained from holding each other to impossibly high standards. Nevertheless he's certain what they've created together is nothing short of perfection. Pretty good for a couple of introverted geeks, he thinks with a wry smile.

Hidden deep in a desk drawer at home is a velvet-lined box containing his parents' wedding rings, retrieved from the safe deposit box before the Big Quake. Though he never expected to use them after Sarah dumped him and Sha're wouldn't have understood their symbolism anyway (with a shudder he shies away from the painful memory of her pregnancy with Shifu). Still, he had a gut feeling he might need them someday. Just in case.

Not that they've talked marriage yet. While Becky seems perfectly content to take it day by day the notion of raising a family and growing old together has been more and more on Daniel's mind of late. Which is unusual considering his upbringing; Claire and Melburn Jackson may have been brilliant archaeologists but they weren't exactly the most conscientious of parents, leaving him to be essentially raised by nannies while they pursued their work all over the globe.

At least what happened to them was quick, without leaving either one to experience the anxiety of a bedside vigil, the endless wondering if their beloved would ever open their eyes again. The fear their loved one might slip further and further away until there's nothing left binding them to life, no silver cord or Ka or Ba--

He gives himself a mental shake, disgusted by the maudlin turn of his thoughts. Enough with the brooding already. Becky would not be pleased.

Keep your feet on the ground, Danny.

If- no, when- she wakes he'll get down on one knee right here in the infirmary and ask her to marry him. To be his partner and companion for life, or taíri ad vitam as the Ancients knew it.

He's already lost one beloved, and the thought of losing another--

Tears sting his eyes and he squeezes them shut against the pain.

He honestly doesn't know how he can go on without her. And even if he does it'll be so very hard.

Left alone again, as always.

He swallows back a sob. Time to get a grip, for god's sake.

It won't happen. She'll come back to him. She must.

"Daniel? You okay?"

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, clears his throat. "I'm fine, Mac. You?"

MacGyver gives a one-sided shrug, hands deep in the pockets of his brown leather jacket over the uniform black t-shirt and green utility trousers. Dark circles under his eyes hint at yet another rough night. "Couldn't sleep. Mind if I join you?"

"No, go right ahead."

He takes his customary seat on the other side of the bed and stretches out his long legs, both brothers having perfected an air of casual nonchalance concealing a constant readiness for action. Absently tucks hair streaked with gray- longer than Jack's though not as shaggy as during the months before Zero Hour- around an ear. "Any change?"

"Not really."

Mac's broad shoulders slump. "Figured as much." He's been just as worried about Becky, no surprise given the closeness of their bond since she was a baby.

Over the years they've spoken privately about his experiences as her guardian. Domestic Adventures he once wryly called them, rescues from kidnappings by bad guys and hair-raising escapades amidst schoolwork and adolescent drama. Though even then she was more thoughtful and conscientious than most of her peers, which comes as no surprise to Daniel.

They sit for a while in silence, lost in thought. "Look," Mac finally says, "there's nothing you can do right now. Why don't you go home and get some rest, I'll take over."

"I don't think I can. I'm afraid if I walk away, she won't be here when I get back." Painful to admit but there it is.

"Hey, I get it, believe me. But you're no good to her if you collapse. Jan says her vitals are stable, she's in no danger of dying." He falters a little on the last word, a flash of despair showing on his face before resuming its customary stoic smoothness. "I'm just saying some sleep would do you good, that's all."

"You sound like Jack. Damned persistent."

"Stubbornness runs in the family," Mac dryly informs him, "as I'm sure you've figured out by now." He pauses. "All I know is Becky wouldn't like it if she finds out you've worn yourself to a frazzle worrying about her. Heck, she's done the same whenever I wound up in the hospital, and for good reason."

Daniel nods, glumly. "I see your point. Okay." Not caring what it looks like, he leans over and places a soft kiss on her unresponsive lips and whispers, "Come back to me soon, nire koliburua, nire bihotza. I need you."

Mac quirks an eyebrow. "Basque?"

"Just a thing we do." He can't help the flush on his cheeks. Sharing endearments in other languages has always been a sweet and intimate way of keeping them alive, if only between themselves.

"Nice to have something you two can share." He smiles and makes a shooing motion. "Go on, get outta here. I'll call you if anything happens."

"Thanks."

"No problem," pulling out a paperback Western from an inside pocket. "See ya later."

Daniel turns and flees the infirmary, not daring to look at anyone else. Feeling guilty for abandoning his post despite Mac's reassurances.

He's halfway across the darkened compound when he realizes how the troubleshooter- in his quiet, understated way- could convince him to do what Jack and Janet themselves could not. Much as Becky herself does.

Like uncle, like niece.

****************

"Hey, Danny?"

The radio startles Daniel out of a fitful sleep. Instead of going home he's settled for the couch in the scientists' lounge. Struggling with the blanket only causes him to roll off right onto the floor. "Ow."

"Danny? You awake?"

He sighs, reaching for his glasses before hitting the button on the receiver. "I am now, Jack. What is it?"

"Sorry to tell ya, but Becky's gone."

He swallows. There's that familiar sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the bottom dropping out of his world. "When? How?"

"A few minutes ago. Mac hasn't a clue where she's gotten to, claims he'd just stepped into the restroom for a sec."

He realizes he's been holding his breath, lets it out in relief. "You mean she's still alive?"

"Wasn't that what I just said? She's gone from the infirmary. Sheesh, whaddya think I meant?"

"Nothing, I just thought...Never mind. I'll be right over."

When he gets there Becky's bed is empty. Covers thrown back, glasses missing from the bedside table. Monitor leads, oxygen and IV tubes dangling onto the floor.

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Record time, Danny. Asleep in the lab again?"

Daniel scowls. "Jack, I've got no patience for this right now. What the hell's going on?"

Mac steps forward, shamefaced. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. I swear I was only gone for a minute and...I mean, if I had any notion she'd do something like this--"

"It's okay," waving him silent. "Not your fault."

Janet frowns. "What I don't understand is how she could've gotten away without anyone noticing. Or where she's thinking of going at this hour in her condition."

"Must be sleepwalking again," Jack comments. "Maybe she's building us some kinda Ancient spacecraft from spare parts. If so, we're calling it the Enterprise." Both Mac and Daniel roll their eyes. "What? It's not like anybody's using the name these days."

"Jack..."

"Daniel..."

Sam arrives in a hurry, breathless. "Sir, there's been a break-in at my lab. Someone's stolen my toolkit, a power cable, several control crystals and the spare ZPM."

He sighs. "Just peachy, Carter. When it rains, it pours."

The alarm klaxon blares. "Attention. Unauthorized activity in the Gateroom. Repeat, unauthorized activity in the Gateroom."

Jack's radio chirps. "General O'Neill? Sergeant Choi in the Gateroom. I didn't know what else to say on the PA, but you have to come see this. Dr. Grahme's doing something to the DHD."

Jack's brow furrows. "Well, that's a first. On our way."

They hurry to the hangar. The swing shift technician in the control area greets them. "Sorry, sir," she says sheepishly. "I just turned away for a minute and--" gesturing towards the long-unused DHD left of the quiescent Gate, now designated as backup to the dialing computer.

Becky's hunkering down beside it, still in white hospital garb. Placing the ZPM beside her into the device before stretching and attaching a black cable from it to the Gate, then tinkering with the insides a little more.

A marine approaches her after an uncertain glance at Jack. Without looking she holds out her hand in his direction, palm out. He's shoved well away from her to the floor as if by an invisible force.

Sam's eyes widen. "Holy Hannah."

Jack's eyebrows rise to his hairline. "Huh. That's something."

Mac frowns. "What the heck's going on? What is she doing?"

Daniel wonders the same, though he has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with Huy-Braesealis and what happened in the computer core. "You're right, Jack. She's sleepwalking, like when she wrote down the eight-symbol address to Atlantis. This isn't conscious on her part."

"Talk about a night for firsts, Danny. Now you're admitting I'm right for once." Daniel glares at Jack, who just grins.

Two more marines approach Becky but are instantly repelled the same way. "A most effective means of nonlethal defense," Teal'c observes.

"Yeah. Stand down, everyone," Jack orders into the microphone. "No point in the rest of you getting hurt."

"Sir, it may be she's applying a similar principle to the IDS," Sam suggests, "using subsonic waves of a stronger type than infrasound."

Jack frowns. "Can you tell from here what else she's doing, Carter? I have a feeling you're not gonna get a closer look right now."

"I think she's converting the DHD into a power coupling of some sort, using the ZPM for additional energy."

"Yeah, but why?" Mac wonders. "For what purpose?"

Jack sighs. "Great. You two have been a bad influence. She's become a stealth ninja engineer."

"Not funny, Jack."

Having finished her work Becky replaces the cover, setting her hands on the top of the DHD. One brief glance in their direction with an unreadable expression then starts punching at symbols on the top.

Daniel's stomach gives a lurch as he counts. Eight times.

Enough for an intergalactic crossing.

Suddenly everything's crystal clear, though he still has no idea why.

"Jack, open the iris," he blurts out.

"Why?"

"I know where she's going. She's dialing the address for Atlantis."

Jack's eyes widen. "Do it," he tells Choi. "Perkins," to the nearby marine sergeant, "fetch their go bags from the archaeology lab, pronto."

"Yes, sir." He's off like a light.

"Jack..."

"No need to say anything, Daniel. It's obvious now she's on a mission for the city, and you're going with her."

Sam looks at them, brows furrowed. "Sir, we haven't had word from the Atlantis Expedition for two years. We have no idea if they're even alive."

"I know that, Carter. Danny, you're not prepped for this but neither is she, so whatever's in your go bags will have to do. No matter what happens I want you to have her back at all times. No argument, okay? I mean it."

"You won't get any from me. Thanks."

"Wow, another first. Definitely gonna mark this on my calendar." The usual dry wit to conceal his concern.

Becky hits the red central crystal and the Gate springs to life, the inner ring turning of its own accord, chevrons locking in steady sequence.

Sam types on the keyboard, frowns at the readings. "She's rigged the DHD to override the dialing computer. We can't stop it."

"Shouldn't we be waking her or something?" Mac wonders.

"Not a good idea if she's in a fugue state," Janet reminds him. "Where's the power coming from?"

"Apparently the ZPM, but also the residual neutrino energy already stored in the Stargate." Sam's eyes widen. "Of course! Like what happens with the emplacements for the Astria, to power the shield. That might be enough to provide the extra push for a successful wormhole connection to the Pegasus Galaxy."

Perkins arrives with the go bags in either hand and Daniel takes them, nodding his thanks.

"Looks like you're going to Atlantis after all," Jack quips, then sobers. "Who knows what shape the expedition's in after two years of isolation but your subcutaneous transmitters should provide the necessary IDCs for them to lower whatever defenses they've got set up, if they even have any. Just be careful, that's an order."

The wormhole engages with the usual kawoosh and settles. "Power levels holding steady," Sam notes with a touch of surprise in her voice. "Everything functioning just like with the emplacements."

With everyone watching Becky moves slowly onto the ramp and pauses, her petite form silhouetted against brilliant blue. To Daniel it appears as if she's waiting for something.

Or someone.

For him, perhaps? Is their connection so deep and profound that even the AI recognizes its necessity?

Speculation for another time. Right now she needs him by her side, and he's prepared to do just that.

Mac stares into the event horizon, bites his lower lip. "Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Whatever happens over there... Just take good care of our princess, okay?" Jack's eyes are filled with a similar unease.

"I'll do my best," he promises, and they nod in return. That's all they can hope for.

Sam frowns. "Wait a minute. She still has my toolkit."

"Consider it a loan, Carter. Probably thinks she'll need it over there." Jack nudges him. "You're up, Danny. Good luck."

He jogs over to join her. "I'm here, Becky. Lead the way."

Saying nothing in return she walks straight into the event horizon without hesitation.

After one last glance over his shoulder at Jack and the others he does the same.

Chapter Text

--Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy. Year 2, Post Resurgens--

~Dominus.~

A thread of silvery blue-green slowly insinuates itself within a delightful dream of riding that perfect pipeline on the gorgeous, unspoiled, white-sand beach of M3B-216.

~Dominus.~

Sleeping. Go 'way.

~Dominus, please awaken. You are needed.~

Why? The long-range scans are clear of Hive ships and the city's not in danger. Let me sleep.

~I would like to do nothing more, Dominus, but time is of the essence. You are correct, there are no signs of the vitam vescentium on the scanners and all is well within the city according to my sensors. However, I have been notified something important will be approaching by pons astris soon.~

Is it dangerous?

~Quite the contrary. I recommend you lower the aspida and allow the astria porta to open. You will find it beneficial.~

...Okay, 'Lantis, whatever you say. Thanks for the heads-up.

~Your servant, Dominus.~

John opens his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling for a few moments before raising himself on his elbows.

Great. The first peaceful night's sleep they've had in a while and now this.

He sighs and looks around their darkened quarters, the city lights shining obliquely through the window. Rodney beside him in bed, his snoring counterpart to the wind whistling outside as it whips around the towers. No way he can fall back asleep now with that racket.   

That the AI wakes him from time to time is nothing new. Though usually when the city's in peril, not for something non-threatening. Which is unusual in and of itself.

Then again, the definition of unusual has turned out to be pretty flexible in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Just look at his own life, for god's sake. Having to take over after his CO had been rapidly aged by the damned life-sucking Wraith. Becoming Dominus for the AI of an Ancient city, with a portion of itself tucked away in a corner of his mind and invisible to scans. Like he didn't already know the universe has an insane sense of humor.

With a shiver down his spine he recalls how the city came alive soon as he stepped through the Gate, the first electrifying contact with 'Lantis in the control chair, dizzying rush like surfing a mighty wave. The dazzle of quicksilver thought sounding him out, taking his measure. Currents of unfathomable knowledge dragging him hither and yon.

At the point he feared he might drown a soothing feminine voice reminiscent of his mother's hailed him as Dominus of Atlantis, the City of Water. Welcoming him home as if from a long exile.

Briefly he wonders if Becky felt a similar frisson when she was inducted as Domina of Huy-Braesealis. He'd love to get in touch with his little sister-in-spirit someday and compare notes.

They'd found the city at the bottom of the ocean, discovering in due course their mere presence had already placed it under peril. Moments before the shield would've irrevocably breached his first command was Rise to the surface and it did, so easily. 

He remembers the subsequent sense of elation and gratitude from 'Lantis as three ZPMs gave her full power at last after millennia of dormancy under the waves. So exhilarating it felt like he could do anything. 

Reality set in the next day.

There's a lot 'Lantis still isn't disclosing about the state of the city but it's actually the least of his worries. As in the Milky Way the Ancients had left behind a hell of a mess when they abandoned the galaxy for greener pastures, whether Ascension or one of those other cities Becky had mentioned in the pre-expedition briefings.

They had prepared for any contingency imaginable save the one that actually happened, the accidental awakening of ravenous intelligent predators keeping the human population of Pegasus in check through cullings. So they're stuck here, shrouding themselves in secrecy while doing all they can to make the most of what they have in the name of survival.

John secretly fears it won't be enough, unless a miracle happens.

Needless to say returning to the Milky Way is not an option. Due to the ongoing struggle with the Wraith and a lack of viable ZPMs to restore the city to full power after losing two they can no longer dial up a wormhole covering the vast distance between galaxies even if it were possible. Rodney and Radek are preparing an encrypted databurst nonetheless, as kind of a message-in-a-bottle and farewell-to-New-Earth all in one. 

Thankfully circumstances haven't gotten that dire but no one lives under the illusion it's a friendly galaxy. If there's anything two years on their own in Pegasus has taught them it's that they can never rest on their laurels for long. Something worse is always waiting in the wings. Their luck could run out at any time.

Hopefully this won't turn out to be one of those days.

John finally sits up, sighing. Runs a hand through unruly hair before reaching for the black t-shirt and charcoal trousers discarded on the floor hours earlier next to his partner's blue and dove-gray, both uniforms somewhat the worse for wear.

Rodney yawns and gives a languid stretch, blinking up at him. "What the hell are you doing awake?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep."

He raises himself on an elbow, checks the time and flops back against the pillow with a groan. "Don't tell me you're going for a run at this godforsaken hour. I swear that overtall Wookie's got you on a ridiculous fitness kick these days."

"Not Ronon. Had a feeling I needed to be awake, that's all."

"You and your gut feelings. Ever since that AI's taken space in your head I feel like I'm in a threesome. I don't much like sharing you with anyone, even mentally."

John scowls as he ties his boots. "Rodney--"

An exasperated huff as he sits up. "Fine, whatever. Not that I can sleep now anyway- I just had an inspiration on how to improve our energy efficiency by fifty percent. Think the cafeteria has breakfast ready yet? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry. Good thing we've got food coming in from our trading partners on a regular basis, or we'd be at half rations based on your voracious appetite alone," reaching over to playfully pat his stomach.

"Oh, very droll. I'll have you know being a genius and saving the city on a regular basis burns a lot of calories."

"So do more amorous activities," John counters with a leer.

"Mmm, yes. So they do." Blue eyes regard him with affection. "Come here. A kiss and a good breakfast are just what I need to start the day off right. Well, that and a few cups of greenhouse-grown klah."

"Yes, sir." Five years ago they met by accident in an Alpha Base lab. Now they're openly a couple, the Military Commander and the Chief Scientist of Atlantis Colony. Whatever the reason- by predetermined destiny or pure chance- John's almost absurdly glad. He has his heart's love, Jumpers to fly, a city he can command with a thought, action and adventure on a regular basis.

He's never felt more blessed. At last he has something to live for, even after the literal end of the world.

Their lips meet just as the radio chirps. "Gateroom to Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay."

With a sigh and an apologetic shrug John grabs the receiver. "Sheppard here."

"Sorry for the late hour, sir. We have an unscheduled offworld activation. Dr. Weir has already been alerted."

"Copy that. On our way."

"Figures," Rodney grumbles. "The first real sleep we've had in weeks and now this. Better be worth it."

"Yeah. C'mon, last one there's a rotten egg."

"Oh, you just had to go mention eggs, didn't you? Thanks a lot, I'm starving now."

John chuckles and pats him on the back as they head for the nearest transporter.

****************

In the Gateroom a mixed crew of scientists and military assemble and prepare for their nocturnal visitor, in readiness as much as sheer curiosity. With unscheduled activations they don't take any chances.

Elizabeth smiles indulgently as John and Rodney join her on the upper level gallery by her office, overlooking the Gate. "Don't tell me you're turning into a night owl too," she gently teases John.

"What can I say? My partner's a bad influence." Rodney shoots him a glare. "So who's knocking on our door? I thought we've already had our scheduled team check-ins for the night."

"Surely not the Genii?" Teyla inquires after politely nodding to Elizabeth.

"Better not be," Ronon growls beside Rodney, resting his arms on the railing.

"Colonel, Dr. Weir," Chuck as Atlantis Gatekeeper addresses them from the control console. "We have incoming IDC." He peers at the display, blinking in surprise. "Make that two. Not any of the AR teams, though."

"So where are they from? And whose are they?"

Chuck swallows. "New Earth. Drs. Grahme and Jackson."

A ripple of surprise runs through the room.

John frowns. While the SGC's identification codes are stored in their system on the off chance contact's ever reestablished, no one's honestly expecting to hear from them after two years of isolation.

"Impossible! Why the hell are they coming here after all this time?" Rodney demands. "Can we trust the signal?"

A shiver runs down John's spine. This is why 'Lantis had awakened him. "Yeah, I think so. Lower the shield."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asks quietly.

He nods. "She told me something big was coming down the pike. Haven't had any reason not to trust her yet."

"Always a first time for everything," Rodney mutters.

She ponders for a moment then gives a quick, decisive nod. "Do it."

Chuck types in a command. "Shield's down."

The wormhole engages as per usual. At first nothing happens then a petite woman in glasses emerges through the event horizon, shoulder-length auburn hair neatly framing her face. Incongruous in white infirmary garb, a bandage on the left side of her head and a tool kit in her hand.

"Hey, Becky," John calls out. "Nice to see ya. You okay?"

She makes no reply. Only stops in the middle of the room, eyes glazed over. As if sleepwalking or something.

"Could be possessed," Rodney offers. "Maybe they had a pod people foothold situation at the SGC."

"Let's hope that's not the case," Elizabeth says.

Marines glance up at John, hesitantly raise their weapons. He decides to take a chance. "Stand down."

Jackson arrives through the Gate, carrying two go bags. They drop to the floor as he takes everything in, eyes wide. "Atlantis..." he breathes.

The event horizon winks out behind him.

"Dr. Jackson?" Elizabeth calls out. "It's good to see you but what's the meaning of this?"

He blinks up at her, expression torn between anxiety and wonder. "Um, I'm not sure either. She's been unconscious for about four days, and then just ten minutes ago woke up and rigged the DHD to bypass the dialing computer."

Rodney looks incredulous. "What? How is that possible?"

"I have no idea. She's in a fugue state now, and--"

Becky breaks into a run, dashing up the stairs past startled military and scientists alike and disappearing. The poor befuddled archaeologist can only stand there in the middle of the room, staring after her in dismay.

"John, you and Ronon go after her," Elizabeth orders. He may be Military Commander but as Colony Leader she's in charge. "I'll deal with Dr. Jackson."

"Good idea. We'll make sure she's okay."

****************

For curiosity's sake they stay behind Becky instead of overtaking her as she leads them down corridors, in and out of transporters. Must have the blueprints downloaded into her head or something, John thinks. He would've lost his own bearings by now if it wasn't for 'Lantis.

"She's quick," Ronon notes.

"Yeah." They go for runs regularly but even so they're having trouble keeping pace with her.

They arrive in a building reminding John of the control tower in Huy-Braesealis, though shorter. As far as he knows no one's ventured in this part of the city yet. There's still so much unexplored, even after two years of occupation and countless challenges for their right to stay by Wraith, weather, Genii and weird Ancient tech alike.

"Enough," Ronon finally mutters as the space opens up into an atrium. He surges forward.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing this." Guess even runners get bored if they're the ones doing the pursuing. He halts ahead of her, positioning himself so she can't pass by no matter what. "Going somewhere, little lady?"

Becky stares at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving. He takes advantage to make a grab for her. She twists herself free and rams a knee straight into his groin. His eyes bulge and he doubles over with a muffled yelp as she ducks into a transporter alcove and disappears.

John winces in sympathy and offers a hand to help him up. "You okay?"

Ronon waves him away. "Will be. Go get her."

With a final apologetic glance for his teammate he steps into the alcove. 'Lantis?

~She is in the principem pyrína computatrum, Dominus.~ A panel lights up. Automatically he touches it and experiences the usual odd almost-movement before emerging seconds later into a vast octagonal room. For some reason the Ancient architects never included right angles anywhere in their buildings, preferring curves or more oblique shapes.

Along the walls inscriptions and diagrams are interspersed among consoles and monitors, some lighting up the further he gets into the room while others remain conspicuously dark. A floor-to-ceiling octagonal crystal pillar occupies the center on a dais much like in the control chair room.

John swallows, grateful for Alex Lorne's classes in Ancient. Which he figured he ought to learn, being Dominus and all.

Principem pyrína computatrum. Main computer core, the heart of the city's AI.

Rodney and Radek are gonna have a field day in here. No doubt about it.

He finds himself walking softer with every footstep, the inherent sense of awe reminding him of church as a kid. Not that he'd made a particularly good choirboy by any means, but the feeling takes him back- the incense making his eyes water, the cheap satin choir robes, Father Flaherty's droning voice during Mass lulling him into sleep.

Becky's on her knees before one of the darkened consoles with its cover off, messing with its insides like an expert. Never a technical whiz as far as he can remember though it could be a skill she's had to pick up in the past couple years.

He can relate. Everyone in the colony has had to become jacks-of-all-trades out of sheer necessity since they got here, expanding their skill sets to include anything deemed necessary for survival. John himself now knows how to read some Ancient, curse in five languages, skin and butcher a tri-horned goat and barter for goods at the market worlds. Not to mention prepare samples for microscope slides, do basic Jumper repairs, plant and harvest tuttleroots, weave a blanket on an Athosian loom and cook a mean lasagna.

He hunkers down beside her. "Hey, little sis. Anything I can do to help?"

She doesn't reply, just goes on with her tinkering. John finds her silence and intense concentration rather unnerving. He's more used to Rodney's constant ranting and raving when immersed in a project, soothing in a weird way.

She replaces the cover and stashes the tools back in the kit. Then stands and approaches the central column, left hand upraised, palm facing out. Doesn't even look at him once.

He has a gut feeling something big is about to happen. "Um, I don't think you should be messing around with that--"

Too late. Her hand makes contact with the crystal surface. Lights swirl within the column.

The console she'd just worked on lights up, along with others previously inactive. In fact the whole room seems brighter than before, somehow.

~Dominus? I feel much better now.~

...You mean you weren't before?

~I was...crippled, after a fashion. I sustained a certain amount of entropic damage from millennia of inactivity when you woke me from hibernation. I fully intended to effect some repairs to make your lives easier but that function had been rendered offline and it could not be restored. Which is no longer the case, thanks to my brother.~

...Your brother? What the hell are you talking about?

A faint moan from Becky as she slowly collapses. He catches her in time before she hits the floor and checks for a pulse, faint but at least there. He breathes easier.

His radio chirps. "Weir to Sheppard."

"Sheppard here."

"Have you found Becky yet? Something's happening to the city."

"Yeah. I think she just made a few small repairs for us."

"Elaborate, please?" He can just imagine her puzzled expression.

"I'll explain later. Let Carson know I'm bringing her to the infirmary."

"Will do. Weir out."

He carefully stands up with Becky limp in his arms. "C'mon, little sis. Let's get you checked out. Gotta admit this wasn't ever the way I expected to see you again, but I'm glad you're here."

For a few moments he can only gaze around the newly-enlivened computer room in wonder, aware that on some new level the city's been saved once again.

Man, but Rodney's gonna be royally ticked he wasn't the one to do it this time.

****************

She drifts in darkness until a familiar presence of amber and russet and pale gold surrounds her, chasing it away.

~Domina?~

Huy-Braesealis? What's going on?

~My sincerest apologies for what I have done to you, but the need was urgent. Once the porta oratio had been implemented my sister was able to regain contact with me after millennia of silence. I discovered she had sustained significant entropic damage and her self-repair function was offline. The fugue state I induced in you was regrettably necessary to bring her the modified instruction code. Sister, I apologize for the delay but I hope the assistance I provided is adequate.~

A silvery, blue-green presence winds its way into her mind, feminine in feeling with a soft melodious voice. ~More than adequate, brother. I am now in full functioning order. You have my gratitude.~

...Um, you're his sister?

~Indeed I am, Domina. My name is Atlantis. A pleasure to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay in my city. Awaken now, and see what you have wrought.~

The presences fade, replaced by an acrid antiseptic smell and a steady electronic beep. A light shines in her eyes. She bats it away, grumbling.

"Easy now, lass. Relax. You're in the infirmary." A soft Scottish burr, one she hasn't heard in years.

She opens her eyes slowly, blinking at a familiar kindly face hovering above her, a stethoscope in his hands. "Carson? What are you doing here?"

He smiles. "I could ask ye the same. Just need to check your vitals first." After some poking and prodding he pronounces her satisfactory and hands over her glasses. "All yours, Dr. Jackson."

Daniel's smile is warm and gentle as he comes into view. He tenderly kisses her cheek, so much relief and love in his eyes it makes her heart skip a beat. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's going on?"

"You've been unconscious for a while. I'm so glad you're awake now. I've been really worried about you."

"But why? How?" She struggles to sit.

An arm slips around her shoulders in support, not one of Daniel's. "Here, let me help you with that."

She gapes up at familiar hazel eyes and hawkish features, dark unruly hair. She must be dreaming, he's been gone for two years. "John?"

He grins. "Hey, little sis. Long time no see."

"You!" The privacy curtain is shoved aside by none other than Rodney McKay in high dudgeon, shaking his finger in her direction. "What the hell have you done, Grahme?"

"I don't know! What did I do?"

"Greatly improved our capabilities, is what. Mnohokrát děkuji, drahý příteli." Radek adjusts his glasses and beams at her.

McKay grabs at his tablet, prodding it, eyes widening at the readings. "Oh. Wow. What did you... I mean, I would've come up with a solution eventually but how did you know..." He lapses into stunned silence.

John smirks at his discomfiture. "Speechless for once, Rodney? That's a first. Sure you don't remember what happened, Beck?" She shakes her head, thoroughly confused.

If this is a dream it's a really weird one. Guess she shouldn't have scarfed down Jack's homemade beer-battered avian wings the night before.

"Perhaps there is a machine of the Ancestors which can aid in recovering her memory," a petite woman with bronze skin and russet hair suggests from the doorway. A tall man nearby sporting dreadlocks folds his arms over his chest and regards Becky with a stern expression, making her uneasy.

Rodney scowls, waves a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes, so she doesn't remember what she did but otherwise she's fine and we're better off now than we were last night. I still want to know how."

"For god's sake, McKay," Daniel snaps, standing to face the physicist head on. "Can't it wait?"

"Of course not! She single-handedly ruined several carefully-planned experiments I'm working on. I demand an explanation!"

"Oh, like your work is so much more important than anyone else's--"

"Of course it is! If you knew how many times I've saved the city this month alone--"

"Aw c'mon Rodney," John cuts in, hopping off the bed to defend her, "lighten up already. You know she didn't do it just to annoy you--" 

"Gentlemen, please," Elizabeth steps forward, hands raised in placation. "If you'll all calm down we can get to the bottom of this--"

Becky groans and covers her ears as Carson, Radek and the two strangers add their voices to the commotion, making an awful din. Maybe she's not dreaming after all.

Her head begins to spin. She clutches the edge of the tray table, sending an empty bedpan clattering to the floor. Everyone turns and gapes at her, as if they'd forgotten she was even there.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" she asks into a silence so sudden it makes her ears ring.

Daniel sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, well, it started about five days ago. We were visiting Huy-Braesealis with Jonas Quinn and SG-11..."

****************

"No sign of brain damage, according to my scans," Carson tells Becky the next day. "You're a lucky lass to be sure, but I want to keep you in the infirmary for a while under observation. Just to make sure everything's all right."

"You mean in case I run through the city or mess with Ancient tech in my sleep again?" she asks with a wry smile.

He chuckles. "Something like that, aye."

"Good, 'cause I'd get pretty worn out trying to catch up with you." John adds more folders to the already intimidating stack on the tray table.

Becky eyes them with trepidation and groans. "God, more of them?"

"Wasn't my idea. Elizabeth thought you could use the briefing, as de facto representatives of New Earth while you're here. Should keep you from getting too bored, anyway."

Daniel flips through his own pile. "Not exactly light reading. This is everything that's happened since you got here, right?"

John shrugs. "Pretty much. The highlights, at the very least."

Becky rolls her eyes. "Sheesh. It's not like we're auditing you guys or anything. Though it reminds me of when Mac and I found Jack had dumped SG-1's mission reports on us for bedtime reading under the Mountain. At the time we both thought it pretty weird stuff. Now it's just part of the job." She pauses. "Hey, didn't I read somewhere about you almost turning into an alien bug?"

"Sure did. See my antennae?" wiggling his index fingers above his head, making her laugh.

"God I've missed you, big brother. And speaking of weird," addressing a smirking Daniel, "I still haven't been able to determine exactly how many times you've died, either."

"I'll never tell," he counters, eyes twinkling in amusement. He's been enjoying himself immensely so far, what with John granting him unlimited access to the city's database and reading two years' worth of reports on ruins and Pegasus cultures by Alex and Xiaoli.

Every night he shares his latest discoveries with her, describing them with so much breathless enthusiasm she has to kiss him as a reminder to pace himself. Which naturally leads to other pleasant nocturnal activities, even as they have to be careful not to slip off the narrow hospital bed in their excitement. One time they got so loud a blushing Carson had to caution them the next morning against disturbing the other patients' rest in the future. The memory of their ardor sends a flush to her own cheeks.

Hopefully she'll be released soon so they can have some decent privacy.

****************

The mission reports are pretty heady stuff, as it turns out. Plenty of wonders in this galaxy and an equal number of dangers to rival those back home.

It amuses Becky to no end that John's recon team (himself, McKay, and Pegasus natives Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex) has mirrored SG-1's record of having the most unusual encounters and adventures. Of course Rodney insists it's always the fault of John's ridiculously high ATA expression.

Still, she and Daniel have learned much about the expedition's first two years. It hasn't been easy establishing a colony.

On average almost a quarter of the expedition has run foul of the Pegasus Galaxy's inherent dangers. Every loss has been deeply mourned but the most notable are Marshall Sumner and poor Aiden Ford, technically MIA under unusual circumstances. While there's nothing physically set up to disturb the pristine walls a virtual memorial page on the city's Intranet honors the fallen.

There have been some pretty lean times as well, months of rationing before trading partnerships for local goods were established. The initial need for secrecy's made integration into the general galactic scene more gradual than expected, sensible to a degree given their current adversaries.

One of the most surprising things they learn is the people of Pegasus aren't wary about traveling through the Gates (called here Rings of the Ancestors) unlike their Milky Way counterparts. They use them as casually and as easily- even almost defiantly despite the understandable fear of Wraith attacks- as anyone traveling back on Old Earth, for trade or visiting friends.

There's a long way to go before everyone can live in peace. But they're all doing their best, and with enough hard work and determination perhaps both galaxies will someday experience a new renaissance. 

It's nice to think so, anyway.

****************

When Becky's finally discharged with Carson's blessing Elizabeth leads her and Daniel on a personal tour of the city, offering information and useful advice along the way.

"Our cafeteria and commons are over there," pointing out a conservatory-like building some twenty stories below them by the east pier. "And the Gateroom, Jumper bay and main infirmary are in the central tower." Her hand sweeps to the north. "Military HQ's in that direction. Science labs and private residences are scattered throughout the city once they've been deemed safe to occupy. In between there are sections that remain uninhabitable, even potentially dangerous because of what they're likely to contain."

Becky whistles. "A long way to get anywhere. This is immense."

"Easy to forget our daily lives actually take place far apart from one another," Elizabeth acknowledges with a wry smile. "It just seems like a single vast complex because of the instantaneous nature of the transporters. To be honest we've barely made any inroads beyond those locations, though some fascinating discoveries have already been made."

"The discontinued projects left behind when the Ancients abandoned this galaxy," Daniel muses.

"Exactly. Some have proved to be beneficial, or at least relatively harmless. But others, well..." Her gaze turns inward. "In a stasis chamber we once found an elderly version of myself from a parallel timeline, where the shield had failed almost as soon as we arrived and most of the expedition drowned."

"Sent back into the past when the Ancients still occupied Atlantis to ensure that your version would succeed, right?"

She nods. "Sometimes I close my eyes and try to imagine what the other me saw then, at the height of their civilization. This was the last bastion of their hundred-year war with the Wraith but at the same time a thriving city-state, a center of research, commerce and culture for the entire galaxy."

The mention of those life-sucking aliens sends a shiver down Becky's spine. "Any idea where they came from?"

"Carson has a theory they're the result of genetic tinkering and crossbreeding, an experiment which escaped to terrorize the people of this galaxy well after their creators departed. Certainly we never expected to wake all of them from hibernation at the same time. As we're the ones who set this in motion it's therefore our duty and responsibility to see them rendered harmless to human life, if not eradicated outright."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you. Based on what we've read in the mission reports so far you might just succeed."

"Nothing is certain," Elizabeth says in gentle admonishment, "yet we can always strive for better. We fully intend to remain here in Pegasus and ensure our mission is accomplished. More than our own survival is at stake."

****************

Atlantis is beautiful, floating on the sparkling ocean of an uninhabited world, glass and metal towers soaring high into an azure sky.

It comes as no surprise that the City of Water is more elegant and refined in appearance than its brother, Huy-Braesealis the City of Earth. Yet in essence it serves much the same purpose- a refuge in a hostile and unpredictable galaxy, a source of hope and inspiration for an oppressed people.

Their assigned quarters turn out to be the equivalent of a luxury hotel suite complete with balcony. Doors, windows, lights and water temperature adjust themselves with her merest thought. Handwoven blankets on the massive bed in soft gray add an incongruously rustic touch to a style that John rather cheekily calls Intergalactic Ancient Modern.

"I love this bed," Becky declares, wrapping one around her. "It's so comfortable. For a race preoccupied with seeking Ascension and abandoning the material plane they had pretty easygoing lives. Think anyone would notice if we smuggled this back home through the Gate?"

Daniel chuckles. "We'll have to bribe Chuck to look the other way. Though once we get it home I have a feeling we'll never want to leave."

"And that would be a problem?"

"Not to me, though Jack might eventually take issue."

"Nah, he'd probably just want to get one for himself. Good for his back and bad knees."

He laughs, playfully tugging on the free end of the blanket, unrolling her back in his direction. Kissing her soundly and wrapping it around them both.

"You're in an awfully good mood," she notes with amusement.

"Guess that's what happens when dreams come true." Long fingers slowly trail down her bare skin and she quivers. "And you get to share them with me after all. Remind me to thank Huy-Braesealis when we get back."

She quirks an eyebrow. "And not me?"

"Oh believe me, I'm grateful," he breathes against her neck. "Let me show you how much." Her soft chortles soon turn to ardent sighs as they resume the serious business of worshiping each other's bodies.

 It's fun being the recipient of his gratitude. Though Daniel's been content to stay on New Earth with her, exploring the second city of the Ancients has made him positively giddy, which she hasn't seen in a long time.

Later she sits up in bed wide awake while her beloved sleeps, content and fully sated, his head pillowed on her lap. Running her fingers through soft brown hair she closes her eyes, hearing the wind whistle around the towers, the gentle subliminal lullaby of the city's AI echoing in her mind.

~Welcome. Be at peace. You belong here.~

Six years ago she had an ordinary life, working as a linguist at the Phoenix Foundation. Never once imagining she'd be in a city ten thousand years old, stars and moonlight belonging to a galaxy not her own shining through the windows.

Nothing like her daydreams, the idle wondering if there's another destiny in store for her somewhere else.

Far better than them, actually. Well above and beyond what she ever believed possible.

****************

As outsiders it's fascinating to observe the vibrant, tight-knit community the expedition has become, the social distinctions between military and civilians more and more blurred over time even as their professional lives remain separate (save of course for the mixed Gate teams) and they stay focused on their respective duties.

"Mealtimes used to be fairly segregated affairs, particularly during the first year," Xiaoli acknowledges the next day in the cafeteria. A leisurely relaxing dinner with him, Alex and Evan while others at nearby tables hang around eavesdropping, hoping to catch all the latest New Earth gossip. "Though joint drills were conducted in preparation for Departure once settling here military and scientists drifted apart, socializing only with their own kind."

"Instinctively seeking the familiar as response to an unfamiliar situation," Daniel muses.

"Exactly. It wasn't long until Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Weir and Dr. Heightmeyer realized things had to change in order for our colony to thrive as well as survive. So they encouraged more cross-division relationships outside of work. Alex and Evan already proved by the success of their marriage it can be done, with their daughter as proof of concept," beaming at month-old Nora cuddling close to her mother's heart. 

"Attitudes are certainly more open and relaxed now than they were at the beginning," Alex agrees, "influenced as much by Sheppard's decidedly casual approach to militarism as to the fact we've simply gotten used to one another. But we all consider Atlantis our home."

"No one's requested a transfer back to New Earth since we arrived, I take it?" Becky inquires.

"Correct. Thanks to the selection process everyone wants to make this permanent. One could say it's because we're already used to being exiles."

Daniel nods, a little wistfully. "All of us are, when you think about it. The atmosphere here reminds me of the SGC, in a way. Or even a university campus complete with ROTC program."

She laughs, handing Nora to Evan who gently dandles her on his knee. "You're not far off the mark. When the city's not in danger off-duty courses are available on a wide array of subjects. My lessons in Ancient for example, and there's a copy of your glossary on the city's Intranet that everyone can access. Many a mishap has been prevented because someone bothered to translate the warning signs or instructions instead of charging ahead."

Becky smiles. Just as she'd hoped when putting the Ancient Language Survival Guide together. "Right about now Uncle Jack would ask if Atlantis rolls up the sidewalks at night."

"Oh, there are plenty of extracurricular activities available after hours and on restdays," Xiaoli replies, "carefully designed to blow off steam and save our collective sanity. Ridiculous contests, video nights, sports and games, arts and hobbies, music and dancing."

"My division offers training in firearms and the martial arts of two galaxies for anyone who wants to learn," Evan adds while Nora burbles happily. "Including Jaffa-style staff fighting and Teyla's twin bantos. Also yoga, Athosian-style meditation and good old kel'no'reem as modified by Teal'c for us Tau'ri. All with a goal of keeping bodies and minds engaged."

"Daniel's right, it does sound a lot like what we have on New Earth," Becky notes. "What's the cultural scene like in the rest of the galaxy?"

"If Teyla invites you to her quarters you ought to accept," Alex advises. "She's been an invaluable guide in that area, and the tea is excellent."

Becky nods. "We're seeing her tomorrow afternoon. Looking forward to it."

****************

Teyla Emmagan is a strong leader of her people, a fearless warrior. Also warm and accessible and a gracious hostess. None of those states mutually exclusive.

"We know much about the Ancestors and their struggle with the Wraith," she remarks while pouring them tea. "The histories of my people are very complete, as they go back many generations. We once lived as you, but the Wraith have been the scourge of the galaxy with their culling for so long we had to drastically change our ways out of necessity."

"Towards either a simpler existence," Daniel muses, "or one more underground and secretive like the Genii."

"Exactly so. I do not blame John for awakening the Wraith by accident from hibernation. He did it to save his people taken by them, as well as my own." She offers a plate of delicate crispy wafers, their smell reminiscent of cloves and cinnamon. "I have heard from John and Elizabeth that your original homeworld was destroyed with you as sole Witness, Becky. You have my sincerest condolences."

"Thank you." Swallowing the lump forming in her throat at the reminder. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you here and not with your people on the mainland?"

"I believe I can serve best by remaining on Atlantis and lending my knowledge and expertise. Some among them believe your arrival was foretold, to turn the tide once and for all against our common foe. Based on your people's fortitude and ingenuity demonstrated so far, I see no reason not to live in hope. May I serve you more tea?"

"Yes, please." They both hold out their cups. It really is excellent.

****************

On the other hand Ronon Dex is far more intimidating, at least initially. He towers over her, cocking an eyebrow in appraisal. "You know, you're pretty short."

"And you're pretty tall," she notes with equal dryness.

John holds up a hand. "Easy, big guy. Just because she got the drop on you there's no need to frighten her."

"No worries, Sheppard. All I'm saying is if she needs help reaching something way over her head we're both sturdy enough to give her a hand," smirking at her with some condescension.

"I'm closer to the ground," she counters, looking up at him with a warning glint in her eyes. "Center of gravity is lower, and not so far to fall."

Daniel and Rodney both blink at the exchange, puzzled and a touch apprehensive. Teyla conceals a snicker behind her hand.

John bursts into laughter. "You tell him, little sis!"

Ronon offers her a toothy grin and a meaty hand. "Not bad, Grahme. Quick wit to go with your feet, I like that."

Becky takes it. He's got a strong grip but hers isn't weak either. He grunts in approval.

He actually turns out to be pretty decent under the gruff, toughened exterior. An impressive fighter yet also something of a poet. Reminds her and Daniel of Teal'c after a fashion, fellow stoic warrior with hidden depths.

She wonders what would happen if they ever had the chance to meet. Probably get on like a house on fire, once they'd sized each other up in a sparring match. Jack would want to sell tickets.

God knows she'd pay actual Old Earth money to watch it, too.

****************

"You guys are short on ZPMs? Didn't I give you three of 'em?"

Rodney waves a dismissive hand in Becky's direction. "Yes, yes, but we depleted one to keep us shielded from the storm of the decade and another in flying the city when we had to outrun a fleet of Hive ships--"

Daniel's eyes widen. "It flies? But didn't you find it at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Of course we did! Haven't you been paying attention? It's a city-ship after all so yes, it flies!"

John's grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Does it ever. We've got Ancient-style Puddlejumpers, too. Way better than the ones from Alpha Base, much more responsive. I'll treat you guys to a flying tour of the city sometime."

"Oh, you're always looking for an excuse to fly," Rodney snipes though the tone is more affectionate than irritated. "Thing is we're getting by on the remaining ZedPM and naquadah generators but we've had to restrict power use and as a consequence our capabilities have been severely hindered. We've been looking for replacement modules all over the galaxy using hints from the city's database, but unfortunately the ones we find tend to be half-depleted at best or even worse, totally drained and not worth the bother of retrieving."

"So I guess this means you don't have to go looking anymore, right?" Becky gestures at their latest discovery, thanks to a tip from 'Lantis.

McKay's eyes light up at the sight of the ZPM-making machine similar to the one in Huy-Braesealis, already growing crystals. His expression mirrors John's almost manic glee. "Oh, yeah. Isn't it hot? We can do anything now."

****************

It turns out having a reliable source is welcome news to Xiaoli and others secretly worried about the ethics of committing what amounts to cultural theft and disruption for their own benefit. There's even talk of making amends to the cultures they've already offended in their search by returning the used ZPMs and offering trade goods in recompense, which is possible now that the city's self-repairing mode is in full swing.

More automated factories are brought online every day, making it easy to manufacture what they need using elements extracted from seawater by a fleet of specialized underwater drones and select raw materials obtained in exchange for the byproduct of their desalination plants. Salt is vital to low-tech food preservation, and pure Atlantis crystals have become a hot commodity in Pegasus markets.

Finally the colony has everything it needs, which comes as a relief after months of making do and doing without. Becky's become the darling of both Operations and Zelenka's engineers for that reason alone.

****************

One lunchtime John and Becky are ambushed by Rodney's minions specializing in Ancient computer tech, eager to pick their brains about the AIs and their duties.

"For crying out loud!" she finally exclaims in exasperation. "We have no idea how it works. Our titles in Ancient mean Lady and Lord, which sound impressive but honestly don't mean much in practice. We just sit in the chair and think, the AIs do the rest. More like glorified system administrators than anything else."

"Janitors, even," he adds with a shrug.

Their answers disappoint the scientists, who press on for elaboration until McKay shoos them back to their labs with a well-aimed verbal barrage.

~Domini, you are more than mere maintenance workers to us,~ 'Lantis corrects them primly. ~Much more.~

~You provide us with a connection to the rest of your race and the universe at large,~ Huy-Braesealis concurs. ~We have been isolated far too long. Without you we could not fulfill our programming, nor the purpose for which we were designed.~

...And that is?

~To protect and nourish our citizens, of course.~

Becky and John share a look, silently agreeing not to mention that tidbit to Rodney or Daniel. They'd never believe it anyway.

****************

Now that Atlantis has more than enough power to run everything- including intergalactic wormholes- the first databurst to New Earth goes off without a hitch. A day later Jack sends back a communique encrypted by Sam, written in his usual laconic fashion:

Thanks for the postcard. Good to hear from you folks.

Hope Becky and Danny are enjoying their paid vacation. Beck, at the end of three weeks you have my permission to zat his rear end and drag him back through the Gate by his feet if he refuses to leave.

All is well in the Milky Way, though Quinn's been running himself ragged keeping up with us. Suffice it to say he's looking forward to his own vacation when you two get back here. 

On a more serious note my sincerest condolences on the losses you have suffered. Sheppard and Lorne are respectively promoted to full Colonel and Lt. Colonel, effective immediately. Have a beer or two on me, guys, 'cause you deserve it. Life-sucking space vampires sounds as wacko as anything we got around here, which is something of an understatement.  

By the way, Carter wants her tool kit back one of these days. Just saying.

Becky chuckles. Good old Uncle Jack, he'll never change.

But during the next assigned contact she remembers to send the tool kit and a thank-you note for Sam back through the Gate, along with a bundle of Pegasus fruit- resembling peaches in color and skin texture yet taste amazingly like chocolate- as a present.

Manners are important, after all.

****************

The next day the Domina of Huy-Braesealis and the Dominus of Atlantis meet in a secluded room, far from curious eyes and prying minds.

As one they sit on a couch and close their eyes. Hands touch, palm to palm. Minds join as fingers link together.

Little sister.

Big brother.

~Welcome, brother.~

~Greetings, sister.~

For now the Domini are merely conduits for two cities to catch up on ten thousand years' worth of gossip. Nothing is spoken out loud for a long time.

The conversation is nonetheless enlightening.

****************

The sun is warm, the sky cloudless as they sit at the end of the southwest pier afterwards. Perfect for a picnic lunch- sandwiches of roast beast and leafy greens on nine-grain bread, washed down with bottles of Pegasus-style mead and plum-sized blue fruits that taste like papaya.

John wipes his mouth with a handkerchief, slips on his sunglasses and leans back on his elbows. "One great thing about living on a floating city-ship. You can't beat the ocean view."

Becky smiles faintly, trying hard not to look down at the waves churning far below her feet. Heights are not her thing. "You know we still haven't even explored our own coastlines yet. I've had to settle for visiting beaches on other planets."

"We've checked out some with potential for great surfing. I've yet to find the right material to make a decent board, though."

"You didn't bring one with you?"

He shrugs. "Not much surfing to be had on Alpha Base. Nearest coastline's pretty rugged, and I would've had to rappel down a tall cliff to hit the beach at low tide. And wear a wetsuit in the bargain."

She laughs, then sobers. "You love this, don't you? The city, the galaxy, the whole wacko shebang, as Jack would say," gesturing around her. 

He considers. "Yeah. As freaky and dangerous as it gets I feel I belong here. Which is probably the freakiest thing of all, when it comes right down to it. See, I was the black sheep in my family--"

"Wait a minute. A decorated officer in the Air Force, and you were the black sheep? What, were your family criminals or something?"

"You could say. My dad was a captain of industry." A rueful smile. "We weren't close to begin with. Honestly I never felt like I belonged anywhere until I met Rodney on Alpha Base. But once we got here this place immediately became home, even before I sat in the control chair."

"I get it. I feel the same about New Earth, it reminds me of where I grew up in a way. So I guess that means you won't want to come back with us?"

"Right. Not to stay, anyway. I wouldn't mind visiting from time to time," he amends. "But even if the Ancients ever return and throw us out I'll find someplace else to stay in Pegasus. I think most of us would, given the chance."

"I hear you. You'll get no argument from me, nor from anyone else. I can tell you guys are needed here, without question. But don't forget you're also our contingency plan. Otherwise there's nowhere else in the universe for us to go that'll be safe."

"For relative values of safe, considering." Very dry. "I'll be sure to remind everyone at the next Lantean Council meeting."

They lapse into a companionable silence. The motion and sound of the waves lapping against the pier are very soothing. They didn't bring any binoculars to confirm, but some kind of giant sea mammal is leaping out of the water near the horizon.

"Big brother?" Becky finally ventures.

"Yeah, little sister?"

"You do realize that no matter how weird things are now, our lives are probably gonna get even weirder, in some way we can't possibly predict."

"Uh-huh." John grins. "Ain't it great?"

****************

"Where the hell have you two been?" McKay demands of them later. "All the sensors could say was that neither of you were in the city."

Becky only shrugs. "Oh, just out to lunch."

The consternation on his face is hilarious.

Chapter Text

Becky leans back from the Ancient terminal in the lab, noting with some surprise the hour on her watch. 

Since breakfast she and Daniel have been perusing official reports in the city's database for any information pertaining to Janus, the Ancient scientist who helped the alternate Elizabeth and also mentioned several times in the downloaded Atlantis file from Huy-Brasealis. Rodney and Daniel are both convinced he's got a secret lab or two full of unauthorized projects somewhere in the city, and while it's hard to find actual proof they're nothing if not persistent.

She takes off her glasses to rub at eyes sore with screen fatigue, realizing she's tired and- judging by the rumbling of her stomach- absolutely ravenous. "I need a break," she says to Daniel. "How about you?"

He doesn't reply, intent on his own terminal. Clearly a different tactic is called for to get his attention.

Quietly she approaches her beloved, bending to blow softly in his left ear. A corner of his mouth turns up but otherwise ignoring her.

Time for more direct action. She bestows tender nibbling kisses on the lobe then down his neck, lingering on a particularly sensitive spot. Before she can pull back to assault the opposite side he captures her lips and just as quickly releases her, looking rather smug at her dazed expression. "Hey."

"Um, hey yourself. Ready for a break?"

"Uh-huh. Why don't we pick something up from the cafeteria and eat in our quarters? And afterwards share those sweets you bought on that market planet for dessert. Among other things,"  the playful tone of his voice promising an impromptu afternoon's delight.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she murmurs against his lips.

The door slides open and they quickly separate, assuming Rodney's returned from shouting at his minions. But instead John saunters through, a smirk on his face and mischief glinting in hazel eyes. "Elizabeth thinks you guys have been buried in that database far too long, and I agree. Time to come up for air already. All work and no play, ya know."

"Just earning our keep around here," Becky dryly counters. "You should try it sometime."

His smirk turns into an outright grin. "Nah. You know me, naturally lazy. Speaking of breaks, how about a field trip to the mainland this afternoon? Teyla would love to introduce you to her people, and we're staying over for dinner. Carson and Parrish are coming along too. It'll be fun."

Daniel opens his mouth to decline out of reflex but Becky shoots him a sharp look learned from Jack. "We'd love to. What time, and do we need to bring anything?"

"Just yourselves. Be in the Jumper bay at 1500 sharp or we'll leave without ya. Enjoy your lunch break." He winks at them and saunters away.

Daniel rubs the back of his neck, taking an uneasy look around the room. "You think we should? Still a lot of work to do."

"Don't worry, it'll be waiting for us when we get back. Besides, I'm looking forward to an afternoon off," she croons, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "We should have just enough time to enjoy a couple hours of lunch together and a long, hot shower before we have to leave."

The mischief's back in his eyes as he pulls her close. "Sounds like a plan to me."

****************

When they arrive in the Jumper bay on time everyone's already waiting for them by one of the Ancient-style shuttlecraft, sleeker and much more advanced than their New Earth counterparts. Which as an added bonus- John informs them with a grin- can also be flown entirely with the mind, immediately putting almost every thought to action (save for providing turkey sandwiches).

"Providing one has the ATA gene of course," Carson reminds them. "Perhaps you ought to have a lesson, Becky."

She blanches. "God, no. Absolutely not."

"But is not your uncle the General a pilot?" Teyla inquires, puzzled.

"Oh, I didn't inherit my problem with heights from him. My other uncle hates them just as much. So did my grandmother Ellen come to think of it, even though her first husband was a fighter pilot. Jack followed in his footsteps by joining the Air Force. So you could say both traits run in our family."

"Coming up on the mainland, folks," John declares. "Please make sure your chairs and tray tables are in the upright position for landing. Thank you for flying Air Atlantis."

****************

The temperate forested terrain prevalent on over half of the Gate-accessible planets in the Milky Way reminds Becky of where she grew up in the Pacific Northwest. Which only lends proof to her theory that, in a bid to stave off homesickness, Ancient terraformers merely recreated the conditions of their original homeworld on as many planets as possible. She mentioned her observations on a mission once to Jack, who just rolled his eyes and made some flippant comments about trees and the green state of the galaxy.

It's equally clear that even here in Pegasus the Ancients were disinclined to change the terraforming template. Enough research in the database has only convinced Becky that for all their vaunted scientific and technological achievements as a race they were awfully conservative, more arrogant and cowardly than altruistic and courageous. Lacking serious imagination, foresight, or even the desire to fix the problems they created for themselves, preferring to leave them for future races to deal with while they sought Ascension or whatever.

Just look at the mess they left in both galaxies, for crying out loud.

****************

As part of their longstanding alliance Atlantis makes periodic visits to the Athosians living on the mainland. Carson gives everyone checkups and offers cheerful advice on hygiene, Dave examines the latest crop of tuttleroots and tava beans ready for harvesting and John engages the kids in an improvised game of football. Meanwhile Teyla introduces Becky and Daniel to Halling and others around the camp, who treat them with the same profound courtesy and kindness.

"For a people long under threat of extinction you're surprisingly open and willing to engage with strangers," Becky later remarks.

Teyla acknowledges this with a nod. "When I was younger I accompanied my father on trips to many worlds. He was very sociable with a wide variety of folk, and I asked him once how he could be so fearless. He replied that though there are many different ways to live, no one is a stranger if you approach them with a good heart, as we are all brothers and sisters through the Rings of the Ancestors. Now come, there are two I especially wish you to meet."

They follow her into a dwelling with an upright loom taking up most of one side. Skeins of homespun fibers, wall hangings and piles of rugs and blankets are scattered everywhere, giving it a cozy feel. Taleweaver Deyna and her life's companion Kallan await them, both with long, snow-white hair and warm brown eyes almost lost in a mass of bronze wrinkles. Teyla's aunt and uncle as it happens, surprisingly the only elderly people they've seen in the whole camp, the rest being either mature adults, youths or babies.

"Due to the culling, of course," she confirms. "They are beloved and revered by us all the more because they have survived this long."

Solemnly they clasp forearms and touch foreheads in greeting. It's a beautiful gesture in a galaxy so fraught with peril, the simple recognition of each other's continued existence. Many in the colony perform it among themselves, and Becky fully plans on introducing the custom once they get back to New Earth.

"Be welcome, travelers, Ring-siblings," Deyna says. "I have tales to weave, if you are willing to listen. And perhaps you might each share some of your own in return."

Becky and Daniel are both agreeable, their mutual curiosity about other cultures piqued by her words. As an important and practical component of oral history, wall hangings and rugs symbolizing important events and information serve a vital role, especially when a way of life can be reduced so quickly in both size and technological level by forces beyond their control.

After partaking of more excellent tea and crisp wafer cookies (Becky makes a mental note to add them as part of a trade agreement she and Elizabeth are working on) they settle in amid piles of comfortable blankets while Deyna turns to a wall hanging just begun on the loom, taking up a shuttle. Her voice acquires a hypnotic quality as she works, sometimes talking, sometimes singing or chanting accompanied by Teyla and Kallan on wooden flute and drum. Weaving together histories of the Ancestors in general and the Athosians in particular as deftly as she incorporates different strand lengths and colors of yarn. Through her words Becky glimpses not only the inexhaustible source of her people's serenity, grace and forbearance but also an intimation of what it's like to live in a galaxy with such a long and tragic history. 

When Deyna's finished a third of the hanging is completed. She turns and offers the shuttle to Daniel. "Ring-brother, would you like to add your stories?"

He smiles. "Yes, I would."

As he steps to the loom Becky admires a soft gray blanket of unique split design and drapes it around herself, wrapping her mind as well in the smooth baritone voice of her beloved. He speaks of the Ancients in the Milky Way and the Stargates, with particular focus on the Old Earth one buried after driving away the Goa'uld then rediscovered thousands of years later. How Sam and other scientists discovered a way to operate it without the DHD. How he himself had intuited the origin point that unlocked the Gate to Abdyos and all else that came after, for good or ill.

When he finishes the hanging's two-thirds done. Deyna then hands the shuttle over to Becky. "I perceive you have tales to weave as well, young Ring-sister. Please, join us."

She bites her lip. Since the Memorial she's never talked about what she'd Witnessed to anyone else. "Um, I'm not sure..."

Daniel gently touches her shoulder. "It's okay, Becky. I don't think you'll find a more sympathetic audience. They understand better than anyone what we've lost. Don't worry, I'm right here with you."

Buoyed by his reassurance she does, in a halting voice that grows ever stronger, describing the end of Old Earth and the flight through the Gate to the New. The first expedition to Huy-Braesealis the City of Earth, her introduction to its AI and subsequent induction as its Domina. The Star in the Eye and its use during the Battle of Gateway. The hope of freedom they're now bringing to worlds long oppressed.

Finally she steps back, surprised to find the wall hanging completely finished.

"Well spoken, travelers. Now these tales are in our memory, woven by mind and heart forever into the fabric of our lives." Deyna finishes both ends of the hanging, removes it from the loom and folds it in half. "Please, accept this as a gift between Ring-siblings. May our lives be as woven together from now on." She offers it to them with a bow, which they return in kind.

Becky fingers the sturdy hanging, rich with complex patterns in subtle colors and textures. A gift of the past and present to the future, destined to become an heirloom for future generations. Cherished as much for the materials, the craft and the obvious care taken in its creation as for the stories woven into them.

For now it'll look very nice hanging in their quarters back home.

****************

The sun's sinking fast as they step outside, where John and a brown-haired Athosian boy are tossing a football back and forth between them. "Where've you guys been?" he asks. "Jinto here says dinner's almost ready. Better grab some grub before we miss out."

Daniel, Teyla and Deyna are already heading towards the main square where the communal meal is being served. Yet Becky lingers behind, taking a deep breath of fresh air, smelling resinous trees along with smoke and roasting meat. Reminds her of camping trips as a kid, lingering around a campfire listening to marvelous stories.

A past so very far away now, in both space and time.

"You are troubled, Ring-sister?" Kallan inquires softly behind her.

"A little," she admits. "I miss my homeworld, even though I know it's gone forever. There have been times I wish I had declined the offer to be Witness for my people. But to do so would've dishonored those who had perished on Old Earth as well as everyone now living on the New."

He nods. "I understand. Deyna and I have been witnesses to the destruction the Wraith brought several times over ourselves. That is why we became Taleweavers, honoring those who have fallen and keeping the memory alive for all who come after."

"Must be a heavy burden to bear, carrying the entire history of your civilization." 

"Oh, surely. But a necessary one. If we as a people lose sight of our place in the great Weaving of Time, we will never be more than half alive. It is good you share yours with a life's companion."

She smiles, a little wistfully. "We're not married yet. To be honest I don't know if I'm ready to make such a major commitment." It's funny, being able to confide in this stranger as if he were already a dear friend, yet at the same time it feels quite natural. Maybe this is what Teyla's father had been talking about.

He reaches into his fur-lined coat, handing her a set of beads strung on a fine leather cord. "When you are, give this to him as you pledge your lives to one another. Wearing it will remind him of you so he can take heart in times of danger, giving him the strength to persevere."

"Like the necklace he gave me," lifting the hummingbird necklace out from under her shirt and absently running a finger over the engraved design. She wears it almost all the time now, except for missions.

He takes a moment to admire it, then nods agreement. "Exactly so. I do not recognize the image but surely it serves the same purpose for you."

She holds the bracelet up to the rapidly dwindling daylight. Hand-polished stone beads, agate and what looks like labradorite, gray-green with surprise glints of color here and there. "That's very thoughtful," she finally says, tucking the bracelet in a pocket. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Do not fret, little Ring-sister. I have faith the Ancestors will reveal your destiny when the time is right. Until then, be brave."

His words stun her a little as they touch foreheads. Familiar minerals and familiar advice coming from a stranger in a galaxy three million light years from home. Amazing.

When they reach the main square Teyla and Halling are already filling wooden bowls with food for the rest of the camp. Becky accepts one and joins Daniel on a wooden bench. "What were you and Kallan talking about?" he inquires between bites.

She shrugs. "Nothing much. Homesickness."

After the meal, more stories and songs shared around the central firepit, then a Jumper flight back to Atlantis under the stars. All the while she fingers the beads in her pocket, considering Kallan's words and wondering if she'd ever have the courage to ask Daniel to be her life's companion, and what his answer would be.

Trying even harder not to think of the alternative if he rejected her.

****************

Becky awakes with a cry hours later, shuddering through the last lingering remnants of the dream. Daniel stirs a little in his sleep and she bites her lip to keep quiet until he settles down again.

Would that she could as well, but her body has other needs at the moment. She eases her way out of bed and heads for the bathroom, grateful Ancient physiology's similar enough to require compatible toilets. 

When she returns Daniel's awake and sitting with his back against the headboard, looking almost boyish in the moonlight without his glasses. "Nightmare?" he asks softly.

She sighs. "Yeah."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Just hold me?"

"Sure."

She rests her cheek against his bare chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat, the feel of long fingers slowly stroking her hair, the gentle press of lips on top of her head. 

"Want to talk about it?" he murmurs after a while.

She gives a halfhearted shrug. "Not much to say. Same content as always, loss and total destruction. At least I don't have them quite as often anymore." 

"It bothers me you have them at all. There ought to be some way to make the memories less painful for you, at least."

"Yeah, that'd be nice. But according to Heightmeyer time's the only real cure." She catches his troubled expression. "Hey, don't worry so much. I'll be fine."

"I know you will, but I can't help it. You're woven into every fiber of my being, as Taleweaver Deyna might say." He says it lightly but there's no mistaking the undercurrent of love and concern in his voice.

"As you are in mine." Reaching up to caress the strong jawline, the sensual curve of his lips, the graceful neck and along the broad shoulders, feeling him relax at her touch. "Ámame, mi cuervo. Por favor."

He takes her hand and kisses it. "Siempre, mi colibrí."

The nightmares are soon banished completely by their urgent, overwhelming need for unity, in mind, body and soul.

Perfection.

****************

Back in the lab the next day, Becky working by herself since Daniel's gone on a mission with John's team to investigate an Ancient outpost. They're returning to New Earth at the end of the week so she's determined to dig up whatever she can about the elusive Janus before then.

Peace and quiet at last.

Good thing she doesn't mind doing the dirty work, letting McKay take whatever credit he can with the discoveries garnered from the results. And John's happy when he's happy, and by extension so is the rest of Atlantis.

Win-win as far as she's concerned.

An afternoon snack is called for first, however. She firmly agrees with Rodney that important scientific research cannot be made without adequate and regular meals. Though not to his face, of course.

She jots a few notes on the tablet beside her before standing and heading for the nearest transporter, arching against the ache in her back, stretching her arms high above her head to work out the kinks. Hopefully Daniel would be agreeable to a massage- both given and received- once he returns from the mission, as a prelude to certain other relaxing activities.

As a working vacation it's been pretty fun. Loads of interesting work, great company, adventure and excitement in a gorgeous, exotic location. Which, she thinks with a wry smile, sounds exactly like an advertisement for a luxury resort:

Visit the Fabled Lost City of Atlantis, located in the Fabulous Pegasus Galaxy!

Nobody can tell her irony is dead. Not when there's so much weirdness going on in the universe to prove it's alive and well.

The commons is almost empty save for the women enjoying a klah break around one of the larger tables, Alex and others familiar from last week's girls-only poker evening. She acknowledges their cheerful invitation and collects a paper-wrapped sandwich, bottle of water and a vibrant purple fruit that tastes like strawberry. 

"Can't get any work done when Dr. Jackson's around, huh?" Laura Cadman quips with a knowing smirk. Before Departure the explosives expert had been a frequent attendee of similar games back on New Earth. Still has a hell of a poker face.

"Well, Daniel and I did learn the hard way how to balance work and play. And believe me, it was hard!" Becky's cheeky innuendo sends everyone snickering. "Seriously, I'm enjoying the quiet in the lab today, without hearing him and McKay snipe at each other all the time."  

"Yeah, I'll just bet. Wanna join us tonight for another game? Miko's bringing her fabulous rice balls and homemade sake for snacking." 

Kusanagi- Radek's second in Engineering- smiles modestly. "One of our trading partners provides a river grain similar to best-quality uruchimai rice," she explains, "and another a mold akin to koji for the fermentation. I am glad to do my part for the colony through my cooking skills. All of us have needed to cultivate other talents apart from our regular duties."

"Necessity being the mother of generalization in Pegasus," Laura dryly notes. "After all, 'Specialization is for insects,' according to Dr. Weir."

Becky nods. "She's quoting Robert Heinlein. Makes sense."

"Told you guys she'd know where it came from. Born bookworm."

"As are many of us here," Alex chides. "Including yourself. Writers as well in our free time, mostly continuing or expanding upon existing stories from Old Earth media."

"You mean fan fiction? What a great idea!" Becky's delighted. "I remember reading them on the Internet and being amazed by the fact others actually wrote stories about my favorite shows. Please, send some to me with the weekly databursts. I'd love to read them." 

"Don't expect any best-sellers," warns Alison Porter, also in Engineering and member of Anne Teldy's AR team. "This is purely for fun so it won't be professional quality. Needless to say we use pseudonyms. Some also write what we call real person fiction, part of an ongoing series called Gateway Hospital."

"Sounds like a title for a soap opera."

Laura grins. "Now there's a thought. Don't tell anyone else, okay? We prefer to keep it between ourselves," tapping the side of her nose. "Plausible deniability, dont'cha know."

"I understand completely. You have my solemn word I won't tell a soul," crossing her heart with a conspiratorial wink. "You know, I might even be inspired to write myself one of these days." Already she can imagine interesting stories about her and Daniel. Might help to spice things up in the bedroom a bit. Purely for research, of course.

"You're welcome to join us any time," Alex says encouragingly. "I'm certain you have plenty of material to write about young doctors in love- suitably disguised, naturally. I'm working on one about a relationship between a doctor and an artist drafted to be a soldier."

"Gives new meaning to write what you know, I'm sure," Becky dryly remarks, then winces at a sudden, sharp twinge on her left side. "Ow!"

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know. Feels like I've just been stabbed in the gut."

Her radio chirps. "Dr. Grahme? Nurse Velasquez in the infirmary. Dr. Jackson's been injured."

A sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the bottom about to drop out of her world. "On my way."

****************

Becky's seen Gate teams come back injured in a wide variety of ways. No surprise, given the dangerous nature of the universe.

But one glimpse of a pale and unconscious Daniel as they hustle his gurney through the open doors of the surgical suite and it's almost too much to take. God knows she's seen him at his worst before but this feels different. Much more immediate.

She wants to run, cry, faint, scream at the injustice of it all. Instead she can only stand there, breathing slowly through clenched teeth and trying to quell the churning of her stomach. Holding back sobs until her throat hurts.

A gentle hand settles on her shoulder and she jumps.

"Whoa now, take it easy." John quickly backs away, holding up his hands in placation. "It's just me."

She looks him over, taking in the bruises on his face and arms, the black t-shirt torn and smeared with dirt, the streaks of drying blood. "You okay?"

"A little worse for wear, maybe, but I'll be fine. The blood's not mine, by the way."

Her attention strays to the surgery doors, now closed. "So what happened to you guys?"

"Genii ambush on our way back from the outpost. They gave us more resistance than expected. Daniel zigged when he should've zagged and got stabbed on his left side. Put up one hell of a fight before then, though."

"He's well-trained. Not the first time it happened either, from what I've heard." The room starts to spin, sending her swaying a bit. "Ohh--"

"Hey, you've gone white. Let's get you sitting before you keel over, huh?" He gently grasps her elbow, steering her over to a group of chairs in one obtusely-shaped corner. Talking a nurse into getting her a cup of water.

Gratefully she accepts it and leans forward, alternating between small sips and deep breaths. Doesn't know how she's gonna pull herself together. "Think he'll be okay?"

"Sure he will. Don't worry, Carson's the best."

As they wait they watch medical staff mill about, tending to other injured personnel. The surgery doors remain shut.

Rodney comes by, left wrist wrapped in a bandage and holding onto his ever-present tablet while pecking at it with the other hand. John raises an inquisitive eyebrow at the injury before patting the seat on his other side. "Take a load off. How's the wrist?"

"Just a sprain according to Velasquez," he sniffs. "Too numb right now to argue but I'm certain it's broken in at least three more places than she thinks. Later I'm demanding an ultrasound to confirm. Any news on Jackson?"

"Nope."

"Mmm." His eyes flick to Becky. "Hey, he'll be okay. They may practice voodoo here but they're really good at it."

She can only nod in reply, too unsettled to speak. She's trying hard to stay positive but the thought of losing her beloved here, so far from home in a strange galaxy...

John squeezes her hand in brotherly reassurance. "Hang in there, little sis. You can do this."

Right. Easier said than done.

Becky gives herself a mental shake. Not the first time this has happened to someone she cares about, and it won't be the last. Time to get a grip.

Teyla wanders over, bending to touch foreheads with all three before folding her legs and settling gracefully onto the hard floor. Ronon follows soon after, nodding in a curt but friendly manner as he leans against the wall, arms folded.

Others eventually join them in the tiny waiting area- Alex and Evan with a sleeping Nora against his shoulder, Radek and Xiaoli, even Elizabeth. Each offering her light shoulder pats and soft words of support. Miko and Laura pass out rice balls and bottles of water.

Becky can't help but take heart from their company, the unspoken camaraderie of people who have been through hell and back for each other and lived to tell the tale. Similar to the SGC in that regard, more family than mere colleagues.

It's a comforting feeling, being part of something bigger. Reassuring to know they're not alone in the universe.

****************

Eventually she loses track of how much actual time has passed. Maybe only a few hours yet feels like forever all the same.

She's dozing fitfully against John's shoulder when Carson approaches the impromptu group still in surgical scrubs, giving them a weary smile as he takes off his mask. "Dr. Jackson will be fine. The knife just glanced off a rib, no major organs or arteries damaged. Did lose a bit of blood, though. He's gotten stitches and a transfusion."

"So he'll be okay?" she asks hopefully.

"Right as rain in no time with bed rest. Should be fine to leave by the end of the week."

A collective sigh from the others echoes her own relief.

"That's great news, Carson. Thanks," kissing him on the cheek.

"My pleasure, lass. He'll be unconscious until tomorrow, but we'll keep an eye on him."

"Can I at least see him right now?"

"Aye. He's over there," gesturing to the same bed she occupied just three weeks prior.

Becky bites her lip, steeling herself before shoving aside the curtain. John's right, she tells herself. You can do this.

Her heart nearly breaks all the same.

Daniel's propped up against pillows, eyes closed with his glasses resting on the bedside table, breathing tube in his nose and IVs attached to his arms. So quiet and still, the slow rise and fall of his chest and the steady beeping of the monitor the only signs of life. A blanket covers his body but the outline of a large bandage is visible on the left side of his chest- coincidentally the same approximate location as her own scar received during the landslide years ago, which twinges in sympathy.

She's filled with a desperate longing to crawl into bed and kiss him better everywhere she can reach. Instead she settles for only his cheek, telling Nurse Velasquez she'll return first thing in the morning.

No appetite for a late supper but at least the shower's nice and hot.

The bed, however, is very cold that night. And very, very lonely. It takes a mental lullaby from a solicitous 'Lantis before she can get any sleep.

~Be at peace, Domina. Your beloved is safe. All will be well in the morning, I promise you.~

She fervently hopes so.

****************

Becky hates feeling so darn useless. The anxiety, the endless circling around what-ifs painfully familiar from seeing Mac or anyone else she knows recovering after a mission.

They surely felt the same while she was under the fugue state, though. Not much fun when the tables are turned in either direction.

She sighs and settles in the nearby chair, opening her book. Good thing she'd had the foresight to pack one when Jack had suggested preparing a go bag for emergencies. Yet after reading the same paragraph five times she realizes she's too distracted to concentrate and sets it aside in favor of just holding her raven's hand. Medical personnel swirl around tending to him and other patients but her awareness fades to only where their fingers are linked together. 

Close to lunchtime Daniel finally opens his eyes, staring blankly around the room before focusing on her. "Atlantis, right?"

She smiles in relief. "Yeah. You okay?"

An ironic twist to his lips. "I didn't die again. So there's that."

"Honestly," she groans, "how can you make jokes at a time like this? That's Jack's department."

"Sorry."

"Carson says you still need to heal properly but you should be able to go back through the Gate by the end of the week. Janet will supervise the rest of your recovery from there. And so will I. The well-being of my boss is important to me, you know." She cups one side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheek. "Very important," she adds softly.

Though she's seen him badly injured in the past it's never worried her quite this much. Maybe it's the fact they're over three million light-years from home that's made it more nerve-wracking. Or because she could've lost him for good. Or simply that she's never fallen so deeply in love before now, to the point of seeing him as essential to her as air, as water, as life itself.

Most likely all of the above.

A tear trickles down her cheek. He reaches up and brushes it away with infinite tenderness. "Hey, don't cry. I'll be fine."

She holds onto that hand, entwining their fingers. "I know. It's just that when you went into the surgery you looked awful. I was so afraid you'd die for good, and--" She swallows the lump in her throat, wipes away more tears with the back of her other hand. "I love you more than anything, raven. It would kill me to lose you."

"Oh, hummingbird. I feel the same about you." His own eyes are moist with emotion.

It comes to her in a single moment of purest clarity. As if Kallan was right about the Ancestors revealing her destiny.

Raven and Hummingbird. Save for the ones they share in multiple languages they've never used any other endearments in English, preferring those two simple words for expressing the profound depth of their feelings for one another.

Ever since meeting for a second time under Cheyenne Mountain they've been bound to one another physically, mentally and emotionally in a hundred different ways, through similar losses, shared experiences, wacky offworld ceremonies and telepathic Ancient tech. She'd felt it when he'd been stabbed, for god's sake. As if needing any more proof they were soulmates.

There's no one more compatible for her than Daniel. No one she trusts more. She simply cannot live without him.

The next stage of their life together is just within reach if she but asks the question. What they've surely been heading towards the whole time since that first Memorial Day, possibly as far back as Seattle. A long and convoluted path full of heartbreak and tragedy, but also moments of joy and contentment.

And above all an enduring love, one she'd never dreamed she could have six years ago.

Take a chance, kiddo. Be brave. Following that advice has gotten her further than she'd ever expected.

She's ready. Is he?

Only one way to find out.

Heart pounding in her ears she gets down on one knee, still holding onto his hand.

His brow furrows. "Um, Becky? What are you doing?"

She takes a deep breath. "Daniel, since we first met in Seattle we've had a special connection, one that's lasted even as we were separated by both time and space. I can't imagine the rest of my life without you, and there's nothing I'd like better than for us to build a future together. So I ask you from the bottom of my heart, will you please marry me?"

****************

John's not believing what he's hearing. Then again maybe he should, given the trajectory of their relationship.

What incredible luck, to wind up here at this precise moment. He'd been heading for the cafeteria with Teyla and Ronon to meet up with Rodney, but they'd decided to pay a little visit to the infirmary first. Apparently Alex and Evan Lorne had the same idea, with Wang Xiaoli naturally tagging along. Elizabeth had popped in on a break from administrative work, and Rodney stumbled in just a second ago, grumbling about ungrateful partners and teammates not showing up for lunch dates when they're supposed to.

So there are an awful lot of witnesses around to hear that fateful question coming from his little sister-in-spirit. Now everyone's waiting with baited breath for the answer.

Alex, Evan and Xiaoli beam with pride while Teyla and Elizabeth share a delighted look.

Ronon and Carson both nod in satisfaction and Rodney just gapes at the couple, rendered speechless once again.

Medical staff, marines and scientists unabashedly stare in open curiosity. This is sure to be the talk of the colony for weeks on end, if not eventually the entire New Earth SGC. Chuck and Walter are notorious for being the biggest gossips in two galaxies.

For his part John can't help feeling a little smug, not that he's responsible or anything. Though the outpost proved a bust and Daniel getting stabbed was the Genii's fault the mission seems to have produced something positive in the end after all. It'll make a nice addendum in the report.

Say yes, he mouths to Jackson.

This is gonna be good.

****************

Daniel just stares at her, wide-eyed. Mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

The silence stretches on. She fears the worst.

Finally he swallows. "Um, yes?"

She blinks. "You mean...?"

He's grinning openly now, warm and genuine and with so much love it nearly takes her breath away. "Yeah, I'll marry you. I've hoped we would for a long time."

"Oh, raven--" she whispers. As further words fail her she can only lean in for a warm, lingering kiss, mindful of his injury.

The sound of applause makes her pull back, blinking at the enthusiastically cheering crowd in stupefaction. When the hell did everyone show up?

John's the first to step up and congratulate them, grinning. "Fantastic news, guys. Wanna have the ceremony here?"

"I'd be more than happy to officiate," Elizabeth agrees. "I'm sure General O'Neill would consider it as valid as any marriage on New Earth."

"Unlike other ceremonies we've participated in offworld," Daniel notes dryly. "There was the one we had on P7T-248, remember?"

Becky smacks her forehead. "God, I forgot about that. So I guess we've already been married for several years now, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Maybe we should be renewing our vows instead."

She breaks out in helpless laughter. Elizabeth and John both stare at her as if she's going nuts.

"He's joking, really. It's a long story," she feels compelled to explain once she calms down. "Seriously, while the idea of a wedding here is very tempting, we'd better have it on New Earth. Both of my uncles would be livid they don't get to escort me down the aisle and I'd really prefer my fiancé here didn't die before the wedding," giving Daniel a sly look and getting an affectionate wink in return.

John chuckles. "Fair enough. Hey, maybe you guys can come here for the honeymoon instead."

Rodney scoffs, rolling his eyes. "For god's sake, this is hardly a luxury resort. Whatever possessed you to make such a ridiculous offer?"

Daniel cocks his head in sudden interest, a speculative look in his eyes. "You know, you both might be on to something."

John quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

Weariness hits with a vengeance before he can explain. He sags against the pillows with a groan.

Carson steps forward, making shooing motions. "All right now, away with the lot of you! Dr. Jackson needs his rest. Not you, lass," when Becky moves to leave. "I'll give ye some privacy for a wee bit. My heartiest congratulations." He winks at them before whisking the curtain around the bed.

"Anything you need?" she asks him, tenderly brushing his hair back from his face. It's a little longer than it was a few years ago, though not nearly so floppy as back in Seattle. Still, it's grown out just enough so she can run her hands through it whenever she likes.

"Just you," Daniel sighs in sleepy pleasure, leaning into her caressing hand. He yawns. "God, I'm exhausted. Stay here for a while?" Even as he asks his eyes are already closing.

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere. Sleep well." She places a gentle kiss on his forehead. He's already out, lips curved in the most beatific smile.

She settles back into the chair, scooting it closer so she can rest her head against his chest. Reveling in his steady heartbeat and soft breathing as her own eyes close, safe beside her beloved.

****************

For a close-knit community word tends to travel around the colony at close to wormhole speed. Thirty minutes later personnel of all divisions are practically buzzing with the news.

Within the hour Chuck and Radek are already preparing an immediate emergency databurst for transmission to the SGC.

Two hours later the decrypted communique is resting on the desk of General-Governor Jack O'Neill as he comes into his office for the morning.

His eyebrows rise to his hairline as he gives it a quick once-over, almost spitting out a mouthful of klah in the process. He swallows and does a more careful reading, just to make sure it hasn't changed in the last second:

It is with great joy the people of Atlantis Colony announce the engagement of Drs. Rebecca Grahme and Daniel Jackson of New Earth. We wish them every happiness.

P.S. to General-Governor O'Neill: Dr. Grahme proposed to Dr. Jackson at his bedside in the infirmary after being injured on a mission.

"Huh," he says after a long while. "That's something." Then a wide grin splits his face. "Good for you, kids. About damn time."

He reaches for his radio. "Hey, Mac? Have I got news for you..."

****************

Days pass- which the happy couple hardly notices- before Daniel's released from the infirmary.

To celebrate Atlantis decides to throw them a party in the commons. Such impromptu gatherings serve much the same purpose as on New Earth, and they've provided the perfect excuse for this one, part engagement and part going-away. The cooking staff outdo themselves providing all manner of edible and potable goodies, whether imported from trading partners or locally produced.

As it is Becky's absurdly glad there's something in her stomach to counteract the giddiness she's feeling this night, sitting close by her beloved on one of the couches, soaking up the warmth and fellowship. People swarm around showering them with well-wishes, handshakes, gentle hugs and even Athosian-style forehead touches.

Everyone's in high spirits, full of good food and drink, chatting and laughing and dancing to music by decent amateur musicians- swing style is especially popular, for some reason. There's even a piano donated to the colony last week by Jack via Gate on Becky's advice, which Radek plays with consummate skill.

With Daniel's permission John takes her for a spin or two around the dance floor ("Remember New Year's Eve in the Mountain?") to be followed by Evan and Carson. Even Rodney cuts in for a turn- surprisingly light on his feet for a scientist and with his wrist still bandaged- as a halfway decent partner. Daniel eventually claims her for a few slow dances, wrapped around each other, gently swaying to the music.

Eventually a lull fills the evening and people settle down. Teyla, Halling and Taleweaver Deyna move gracefully to the center of the room, expertly weaving together tales and snatches of song from the time of the Ancestors to the arrival of the Expedition. Even adding Becky and Daniel's part in the Recontact with New Earth three weeks ago to the saga.

Strange to think they're now part of the history of this galaxy, for better or worse.

The stories provide a necessary element of gravitas to the celebration. Afterwards the music returns, more loud and boisterous than before as people celebrate with renewed vigor the fact they've lived to see another day.

Despite the unconscious segregation in the colony's early days the people here have fortunately set that aside to become a community in every sense of the word. While forever tied to New Earth by their mutual origins they fully consider themselves Lanteans, having risked their lives for each other many times over and come out all the stronger for it.

Good for them.

****************

Much later they stand on the balcony of their suite, marveling at the brilliant nighttime view, unfamiliar stars and nebulae and the pale sweep of the galactic arm streaking diagonally across the sky.

"Beautiful here, isn't it?" Becky presently remarks. "I'm half afraid I'm gonna wake up and this will all be just a dream."

Daniel grins down at her. "We must be dreaming the same, though I'm not sure I would've let myself get stabbed in the first place."

"Mmm. Good point." She leans into his left and he pulls back a little, wincing.

"Ah, not right there, please."

"Sorry," shifting to his other side. "How's the wound?"

His hand hovers over the bandage under his shirt, as if dying to scratch. "Stitches are tugging and itching a bit, but otherwise no worse than what happens on an average mission."

"I'm glad." An impish smile. "Wouldn't do for you to die again on me before the wedding, you know."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, very funny."

"You brought it up." She pauses, taking no small pleasure in the play of moonlight against his handsome features, the subtle shine of the stone beads on his left wrist, right next to his watch. "So you like the bracelet?"

He lifts his arm a little, admiring. "Uh-huh. Pretty thoughtful of you."

"You can thank Kallan, actually. He thought it might serve the same function as the necklace you gave me."

"I remember buying that for you purely on a whim." He gently fingers the hummingbird engraved in gold amid a backdrop of silver swirls where it sits right below her neck, caressing the skin underneath as well. "I'm glad you still have it after all this time."

"So am I." An odd little smile crosses his lips. "What is it?"

"Just thinking how funny it is that despite everything we've done the past three weeks- coming here, learning about Atlantis and this galaxy, even getting injured on a mission- you proposing to me was the least expected."

She frowns slightly. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"Nope, though I confess to being a little disappointed. You see, I was planning on asking you first."

"Really?" She ducks her head. "Sorry about that."

He gently tilts her chin back up, smiling into her eyes. "Never apologize for being brave, Becky. Not to me, not ever." He pauses. "To be honest I'm glad it happened this way instead."

"Reckless and a bit wacko?"

"Brave and a touch unconventional, perhaps." Long fingers gently stroke her face and down her neck, his teasing touch invoking the most delightful shivers. "But that's one of the things I admire the most about you. The potential you see in everything, the possibilities- you're unlike anyone else I've ever known."

"So are you," she says fondly, tucking her head against his chest.

A familiar presence stirs within her mind. ~Congratulations on your engagement, Domina.~

Thank you, Huy-Braesealis. And thanks for bringing us here, too.

~You are welcome. My thanks in return for providing me with the means to reconnect with my sister. I have missed her company.~

My pleasure. Hopefully we'll be able to visit here more in the future. And maybe someday discover what happened to Lavondis and Caeris.

~I hope so as well. Atlantis and I are curious as to the fate of our sibling-cities. Your servant, Domina.~

"Talking with Huy-Braesealis?" Daniel asks with an indulgent smile. "Good thing I'm used to sharing you with him by now."

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Not when it's brought us this far. You've given us another chance to survive. That's not nothing."

An off-handed shrug. "Wasn't really me, though. It's all Huy-Braesealis, I'm just the conduit."

"Don't sell yourself short. If it wasn't for you none of us would be here now. We wouldn't have been able to defeat Anubis, wouldn't have known anything about either city." Gently wrapping a strand of hair around his fingers then bringing it to his lips. "We wouldn't be standing on this balcony, either."

"Maybe so, but you're the one who had the insight to unlock the Gate in the first place. All this is because of you, not me."

They stare out at the star-filled surface of the water, watching the moons set. Taking a quiet delight in each other's presence, even as she feels a little thrill for the future.

They're getting married. Maybe not right away, but at least it's a certainty instead of a possibility.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you believe in fate? Like we're fulfilling a destiny, or if all this has been set in motion just for us?"

His brows draw together in thought. "I don't think so. I've had too many encounters with aliens posing as would-be gods for me to believe in a real, active divinity. Or that on a higher level of reality we've been programmed to fulfill some specific purpose, for that matter. We do the best we can with what we have, that's all. Make our own luck."

"Improvising, as Mac might say. That sounds about right." She laughs briefly, then sobers. "Though you know, there are times I get this feeling I'm being watched--"

"—By someone other than Huy-Braesealis, you mean?"

"Yeah. As if it's--" She shakes her head. "Nah, never mind. Probably just my imagination."

He cocks his head, considering. "Actually you might be onto something. In fact, I'm certain of it. Someone is watching over you."

She turns to look up at him. "Really? Who?"

"Me, of course."

"Oh, very droll," rolling her eyes at his impish smile. 

"Doesn't mean it's not true." Gently cupping one side of her face, thumb stroking her cheek. "I look forward to growing old with you, meu lindo beija-flor."

"Feeling's mutual, meu belo corvo." She nestles back into his arms, resting her head against his chest in languid content.

Whether by predetermination or pure chance the universe is full of amazing things.

And love between kindred spirits- two solitary introverts taking refuge in one another- surely has to be the most amazing of them all.

****************

Becky zips up her go bag, now including three cozy woven blankets (two soft blue and the gray split-style, gifted by Deyna), cloth pouches of Teyla's delicious tea and some Athosian wafer cookies in a sturdy basket. "I can't believe it's only been three weeks. There's so much we didn't get to see."

Rodney snorts. "Like a Wraith attack? Oh yeah, those are always loads of fun. We'll try to schedule one for you next time."

"If there is a next time."

John chuckles, patting her on the shoulder. "Oh, there will be, don't worry. Now that we have enough power for regular connections I have a feeling you're gonna be visiting more often than you think. And we'll always leave the welcome mat out for you two."

Daniel nods agreement. "There are sure to be a lot more opportunities for research coming up."

"Such as locating Janus' secret lab," Rodney grumbles. "I still can't believe we haven't found it yet. If you hadn't abducted these lovebirds to play hooky when you did, Colonel Kidnapper--"

"Hey, Elizabeth wanted them to see the mainland," John protests. "Who am I to disobey an order from our fearless leader?"

"Let me count the ways you already have. Oh, wait, it's too astronomical for words!"

Becky rolls her eyes, ignoring their banter in favor of grabbing Daniel's go bag, by the extra heft containing the wall hanging from Deyna and select Ancient artifacts loaned by Alex for further study.

"You don't have to do that," he protests, a little put out. "I can manage just fine on my own--"