A/N

So I got round to seeing Stargate Origins. Can't say I was that impressed. Still, gave me the idea to drabble this up, so, yay?

I Did Nazi That Coming

"Catherine Langford? Doctor Jones."

That was three names and one title, she reflected. Obviously the person who'd said it had a forename, but he was the professor. She was just Catherine. It was obviously bothering her more than it should, but as she turned around from her notepad and looked at the man swaggering towards her, she-

Wow.

...was momentarily taken aback, seeing the man extending his hand towards her. Because with his weathered face, weathered hat, weathered jacket, and very, very muscular build, she dropped all thoughts of forenames, and started thinking of second names. Such as whether Catherine Jones had a nice ring to it.

"You are Professor Langford's daughter right?"

But she had to put such thoughts aside, as she shook the man's hand. "Yes. Yes, of course I am. Catherine Langford. That's my name." For now.

The man who called himself Doctor Jones smirked. "Nice to meet you."

Was he flirting, she wondered? Oh he was definitely flirting. Which wasn't out of the ordinary, lots of men tried to flirt with her. Difference was, only a few of them got a response. And since one of them had disappeared, then...

She shook the thoughts away. James Beale wasn't here. Doctor Jones was. And being the only person in this warehouse, she supposed it was up to her to entertain him.

"I hear you had some trouble with Nazis."

Or inform him, she supposed.

"Yes. Yes, we did, actually. I..." She frowned. "What's your outfit?"

"My outfit?" He dangled his jacket. "Pretty rugged actually."

"No, your outfit. British Intelligence. OSS?"

"Marshall College actually."

Catherine blinked. "Marshall."

"Yep. Course I get round a bit."

"I-"

"So anyway," said Doctor Jones, walking past Catherine towards the thing that was covered in sheets. "As someone who's got experience with Nazis and big warehouses, why don't you tell me about your little adventure here?"

"Adventure." She frowned. "Not the word I'd use to describe it."

Doctor Jones looked back at her and smirked. "Trust me Cat, I would."

Trust him, he'd said.

Why, she wondered, was she sorely tempted to do so right now?

Half an hour later, both of them sitting at a table with tea and coffee, she still didn't know the answer.

She'd taken Doctor Jones at his word that he was on the level, and as such, had levelled with him as to what she could remember from the events of two days prior. Nazis, operating under the orders of the führer himself, had broken into this warehouse. They'd threatened her and her father. They'd been after something, but what, she couldn't recall. Actually, as she'd explained to Doctor Jones over and over, she barely remembered anything. Only that by the time she and her father had come to their senses, they'd found themselves wandering around outside the big metal circle, with only a single Nazi body being present. One who'd been shot by...something. She said something, because the wound in his chest showed too much burnt tissue to have come from a bullet, but, what, was she supposed to believe that he'd been shot with some kind of ball of fire?

"Do you believe that?" Doctor Jones asked.

Catherine folded her arms. "No. Of course not."

"But you don't believe it was a bullet?"

"No..."

"And the people who took the body away? Did they say anything?"

"If you want to say something Doctor Jones, then say it."

Jones shrugged. "Just asking questions."

Catherine scoffed. In her experience, no-one 'just asked questions.' Her father had asked the question of "what the heck is this thing?" for a decade, and so had many others over the years, before slowly losing interest in Paul Langford's work. Similarly, James hadn't 'just been asking questions' when he'd broached the subject of marriage, but he…

Oh James.

She looked away. And the man beside her must have noticed, because he asked, "Miss Langford?"

She didn't respond. Here she was, sitting at a table, tea in front of her. In a warehouse, yes, but the distinction felt academic now. James had gone missing from his unit. He'd bailed on the Army, he'd bailed on her, and she and the British were in agreement that such behavior was out of character. Part of her whispered that she should forget about him. He'd left, he obviously didn't care, so why should see? On the other...

Sand. A temple. People of the desert.

On the other hand, in her dreams...

A cave. Three moons. Staffs.

In her dreams, she saw him.

Her father. Nazis. Bullets. Staves...

"Doctor Langford?"

She looked back at Doctor Jones. "I'm fine, thank you." She sipped some of her tea, wishing it wasn't so cold. "And thank you for using my title."

"Hmm."

The two of them sat there in silence. Long enough for Catherine to give Doctor Jones a good look. Physically, he hadn't changed, apart from putting his hat on the table (and keeping a hand on it, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from it. But his old swagger had gone. The sparkle in his eye was gone. In his place, was left a man who was clearly concerned about something.

"Mister Jones, may I ask you why you're here?" Catherine asked.

Jones gave a small smile. "You don't trust me I take it."

Not anymore. She smiled in return. "I can't help but ask. After all, you're not the first person who's interrogated me."

Jones shrugged.

"You think the Nazis wanted something?"

"Sweetheart, in my experience, Nazis always want something."

Catherine, deciding not to object to being called sweetheart, murmured, "you've got experience I take it?"

A shadow passed over the doctor's face. "You could say that."

"Uh-huh." She sipped her tea again. "But fine. Nazis attacked my father and me - I can vouch for that much. But I'm sorry, I just can't help you. It's like..." She leant forward, rubbing her temple. "It's like there's a...fog, here. It's not trauma, but I..." She looked at Jones. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

Jones shrugged.

"Hysterical? Because I assure you Doctor Jones, I'm not that kind of woman."

Jones snorted.

"What?"

"Trust me Cat, I know."

"You know," she repeated blankly.

Jones shrugged. "Let's just say that some women in the world have a propensity to be hysterical, and I've encountered them."

Catherine wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult. Instead, she went to sip her tea, but found that she'd drunk all of it. Sharp contrast to Mr. Jones's coffee, which had barely been touched. So why was he here?

"Doctor Jones, it's been nice talking to you, but-"

"Do you think they were after the circle?" Jones asked.

A rock dropped in Catherine's stomach. "Excuse me?"

He pointed past her, to the big circle covered in cloth.

"That?" Catherine asked. "Oh, that. That's just an old relic."

"There's some people who might say otherwise."

"And some people say that the Nazis tried to recover the Ark of the Covenant. Doesn't make it true."

Jones shrugged.

"Anyway," Catherine said, getting to her feet. "You want to see it, Doctor? Fine." She walked over towards the ring. "Here's the result of ten years of research, and God knows how many thousands of years of being buried. Behold." She pulled down the curtain. "One big circle."

As she watched Doctor Jones get to his feet, she could tell that he was fascinated. The big round thing was calling to him. A woman showing him a hole that he wanted to examine.

Eww.

"So this is it," Doctor Jones murmured. He put his hat to his chest, as if in reverence. "This is what you found."

"Yes. Well, what my father found, along with an army of workers. I just happened to be at Giza on the day."

Jones came to stand beside her and whistled. Catherine smiled. "Yeah," she said. "I know the feeling."

Jones looked at her, a look in eyes asking 'may I?' Giving him her own look, Catherine watched as her gingerly put his hand against the ring.

"Incredible," he said. He looked at her. "Do you have any idea what it's made of?"

"No idea. My father thinks that it might be smelted meteorite or something. It's certainly not like any other material that's ever been found from Ancient Egypt. I-"

"And these symbols," said Jones. He gestured to the markings on the circumference of the ring. "They're not Egyptian, are they?"

"Well, they're certainly not any kind of hieroglyphic that we're familiar with," said Catherine. She ran a finger down one of them. "We really could use a Rosetta stone." She looked at Jones. "You don't happen to have one lying around, do you?"

"'Fraid not."

"Well, can't hate a girl for asking."

Jones didn't say anything. He just stood there. Staring.

Right now, she couldn't blame him.

"So that's it huh? You and your father go back to the States, and the circle goes into storage?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"No. I suppose you're not."

Both of them were standing at the edge of the warehouse, on the threshold between the heat of the Egyptian sun, and the cool interior. It was like standing on the threshold between two worlds. All she had to do was take a step, and be transported into a new one.

"Doctor Jones, may I ask you something?"

He remained silent.

"Why do you think the Nazis came for us? I mean, I don't like Hitler any more than the next person, but why here? Why Egypt? Why us?"

Jones sighed, and looked out onto the Egyptian streets. Men sold their wares, women walked around in veils, children played in the streets. Life went on, as it had for thousands of years. Not like Europe, where life was becoming less certain with each passing day.

"Doctor Jones?"

He looked back at her. "The Nazis are insane. But there's some brilliant minds in all that insanity, and some of those minds believe that there's relics in this world. Ancient treasures, power of the gods, that sort of thing. The type of things that would give them an edge in a war."

"A war." Catherine gave a hollow laugh. "Surely it won't come to war Doctor Jones. I mean, Hitler's a megalomaniac, but he's not crazy. I mean, after the Great War, no-one would fight another one."

"There's a pretty nasty war going on in China right now."

"Yes, but that's only the Japanese getting all uppity, I don't mean that..." She paused, seeing the way Doctor Jones was looking at her. "What I mean to say...what I'm saying is...look, I just don't think that there's going to another Great War. No-one wants it, not even people who seek the so-called powers of gods."

Jones shrugged. He didn't appear convinced. But then, right now, he didn't appear to be thinking about Nazis, or war. Instead, he was looking at her. Her chest, to be precise.

"That necklace you're wearing."

Okay, so he wasn't looking at her chest, but at the thing dangling on it. Close enough, for better or worse.

"Could I see it?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course." Catherine went to take it off...

And the strangest thing happened.

An urge. A sudden urge, nay, a need to keep it on. To not give it to Doctor Jones. The necklace. It was hers to keep, until the right time. When she might find the right person to lead the right people, to do what she had failed to do, to find the one who commanded the sun, and-

"Catherine placed the necklace in Jones's hands. The feeling was gone, as quickly as it had emerged. So gone, that she couldn't even recall it.

"It's beautiful," Jones said.

"I've had it for ten years," said Catherine. "I bought it the same day that my father found the big circle."

"A gift for yourself then?" Jones smirked. He rubbed his finger across it. "The Eye of Ra."

"You know Egyptology, professor?"

He looked up at her. "Bit of this, bit of that." He handed her back the necklace. "Well, take care of it Catherine. Something tells me that you don't want to lose it."

Catherine, putting the necklace back on, found herself agreeing. Quite a bit actually.

"Well then," said Jones. "I'll be off. Maybe you can give me a visit at Marshall sometime."

"What? Oh, yes. Of course. Maybe. Possibly. I..." She trailed off, telling herself that the reddening of her cheeks was due to the summer heat.

"At your own leisure of course." Jones took her hand and kissed it. "I'll see you around, Miss Langford."

Catherine stood in the doorway, watching Jones walk out into the Egyptian sun. Fighting the urge to smile. Especially as Jones stopped, took off his hat, and gave her a final wave. One that she gingerly returned, before watching him swagger off, as if looking for another adventure.

"Well then," she said, as Jones finally left her sight. "I did Nazi that coming."

Much to her embarrassment, she laughed at her own joke.

One year later, she wasn't laughing at all.