Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly.

Author's Note: Firstly, I'm sure my timing is off on this story, but I was working from my memory of when the show ended here. Secondly, this story contains swearing and references to m/m relationships, but nothing graphic for the moment. However, if that's not your thing, back away now. And this is the first thing I've ever posted, so if you feel the need to review, please be kind.

Pairings: Sheppard/Lorne

Prologue

Atlantis, San Francisco Bay. June 2009

John Sheppard moved through the halls of Atlantis with a purposeful stride. He wasn't aware that people were dodging out of his path because of the expression on his face, he was too furious to care at that point. The last week had been a disaster and it was beginning to get to him. Granted, they'd averted a Wraith attack on Earth, and that was fantastic of course. But they'd ended up with Atlantis sitting in San Francisco Bay with enough power to keep the cloak up but damage to the propulsion systems leaving them no way to get back to Pegasus. To make matters worse, the IOA and Richard Woolsey weren't sure they wanted Atlantis back in Pegasus. It was fucking infuriating! Did they honestly believe that they could just forget about the people in the other galaxy? The Athosians and the Coalition and all the other people they'd met over the last five years and just abandon them to the remaining Wraith? Sheppard walked into the office he shared with Lorne and punched the wall in frustration. He wasn't usually given to fits of temper, as he'd once told Ronon, he was naturally lazy, but he couldn't help it.

"I take it that the meeting with the IOA didn't go well?" a dry voice asked and he turned around with a wince. He really should have checked that the room was actually empty before he started trying to knock holes in the wall. But Lorne was just staring at him in concern, and some of the anger dissipated from Sheppard as he met those brilliant blue eyes. He sighed and dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk. He would never admit it, but he knew he would feel better after talking to his XO.

"I thought I almost had them convinced, then Woolsey started taking about how dangerous it was in Pegasus, and that it would be much more prudent to concentrate on developing the necessary power to keep Atlantis hidden, rather than trying to get the city fixed and back to where it belongs," Sheppard groaned, "I'm not cut out for this stuff Lorne."

"Everyone here believes you'll get us back where we belong Colonel," Lorne assured him with a faint smile, "That's why we're all still here."

Sheppard could feel the tips of his ears getting warm. He knew that the younger man's comment was perfectly innocent, but he couldn't help the feelings it caused in him. The embarrassment that the people in Atlantis put so much faith in him when he couldn't imagine why he deserved it. He just did these things because, well, he wasn't about to order anyone to go on a suicide mission and who else was going to offer?

Lorne watched as his CO shifted a little awkwardly in his seat and blushed. Most people wouldn't have noticed the slight colouring of Sheppard's ears, but he'd been watching John Sheppard for years and he'd learnt to pick up on these subtle signs. He knew that Sheppard didn't like to hear how much the people in the city idolised him, but he couldn't sit and watch him give up. They had to get the city back where it belonged, and that wasn't San Francisco Bay. They didn't have long. They'd only been back a week and already some of the personnel were getting pressure to accept new postings. Lorne had been called by General Landry three times to accept an SG team of his own at the mountain. He'd refused, he didn't care what Landry thought, the last place in two galaxies he wanted to be was 'away from Sheppard's corrupting influence'.

"So when's the next meeting?" he asked, trying to derail his thoughts before they had a chance to gain momentum.

"Beginning of next week," Sheppard sighed in reply rubbing his eyes tiredly, then looked up at the man sitting across from him, "What are you even doing here Lorne? Shouldn't you be taking advantage of being back on Earth like every other member of the expedition?"

"I visited my family when we first got here," Lorne shrugged, "But apart from that I don't really see why I'd need the time off. We can't use our 'gate, so there are no missions to schedule, or go on, or any need to be ready to rescue your team at a moment's notice. There's next to no paperwork to do except reports on how the repairs aren't progressing. This practically is a holiday."

He wasn't telling the whole truth though. He was worried that they might not be able to convince the IOA to let them take the city home. And if that happened, Lorne wasn't sure what his future might be. He wanted to spend as much time in the city as he could in case they were forced to leave. Not that he would have left as long as Sheppard was still there anyway. John Sheppard and the city of Atlantis were almost symbiotically linked; one just didn't seem quite complete without the other. They were certainly irrevocably joined in Lorne's mind.

"Is there a treatment program for workaholics?" Sheppard enquired with a faint smile.

"Maybe we should start a support group," Lorne joked, "Since Stackhouse and Chuck are still here, and a few of the others, I think we have enough people."

"How about we just grab some beers and go watch a movie?" Sheppard suggested, "I managed to pick up a few new ones."

"I suppose…" Lorne said hesitantly.

"Come on Evan, you said yourself there's no reason at all for you to work late. Let's go have some fun," Sheppard was practically pouting and Lorne couldn't refuse. They stood and he followed Sheppard out of the office, trying to force down the wash of inappropriate thoughts and feelings. Sheppard's choice of words had conjured images in Lorne's mind that made him want to groan with frustration. He highly doubted that Sheppard was thinking along the same lines though, and matters were never helped by the warm, fuzzy feeling he got on the rare occasions that Sheppard called him by his first name. He wanted to shake himself, or maybe find out where Ronan had gone so he could have someone knock some sense into him.

He'd been over this a thousand times before in his mind. He didn't fall for straight guys; it never ended well, especially when it was someone he worked with. The military had very strict rules about that sort of relationship, so his career was on the line as well as his heart. Which was likely to be crushed by him falling for someone he couldn't have. So when he met John Sheppard, of course it had registered how incredibly attractive the guy was, but then ten minutes after he set foot in the city he heard about the man's reputation: The Pegasus galaxy's answer to Captain Kirk. There was ample evidence to speak for where Sheppard's interest lay, so Lorne had firmly and in no uncertain terms told himself that it was pointless to even think about the man in a sexual way.

That had lasted exactly three days. The fact was it was impossible to look at Sheppard without thinking about sex. That this opinion was shared by a large percentage of the female population of the city didn't really make Lorne feel that much better. But he'd dealt with it. He'd reminded himself that just because he found the man physically attractive didn't mean that it went beyond that. That had managed to last a whole month. Until the incident with the Genii. Because the minute Sheppard walked into his sight and said his name, Lorne's heart rate had doubled and he felt elated, even though they were still locked in a cell. And it had nothing to do with the hope of being rescued. He'd recognised the feeling of butterflies in his stomach at the sight of Sheppard and he knew then he'd already fallen. Hard.

So he kept a careful watch on everything he did when he was around Sheppard, because they managed to develop the beginnings of a strong friendship along with their working relationship and Lorne wasn't about to jeopardise that by revealing his less than professional feelings for the other man.

They wandered through the corridors of the Ancient city together and Sheppard just knew that they were both taking in how deserted it was. He couldn't be sure but it seemed that the lights were dimmer. He knew it had nothing to do with the lack of power, Atlantis was probably sulking because everyone had left. If anyone had told him five years ago that he would think it perfectly normal for a city to have a personality, he would have laughed until he was sick. But the fact was, he knew the city had an intelligence, an awareness to it. He didn't care what Rodney tried to say about 'complex computer programming with elements of artificial intelligence', the city was alive. At least in his mind.

He was sure it had opinions about people; there was simply no other way that Kavanaugh could encounter so many 'random malfunctions' on a daily basis. He couldn't be the only one that realised this, he mused as they stepped into a transporter. Everyone who had the Ancient gene could hear the buzz of the city, after all, though it had taken them a while to figure it out. He glanced over at Lorne. He had the strongest natural expression of the ATA gene after Sheppard, if anyone had picked up on the oddity of the Ancient city it would be him.

But at the last moment he bit his tongue to stop the question escaping. He didn't want to risk seeing Lorne look at his as if he'd lost his mind. Not that he would be the first person to think it, but there was a whole world of difference between the looks you received for casually throwing yourself into yet another situation where you would be uncomfortably close to a nuclear explosion, and the ones you got from saying 'So, do you ever get the feeling that the city's alive?'.

He didn't think that Lorne would really call the people in the white coats if he asked about his opinions on Atlantis' self-awareness. Lorne covered for him a lot, even if it was mostly in the form of rescuing his team on a semi-regular basis, and saving him from the evils of paperwork much more frequently. But he didn't like to think of seeing doubt and fear directed at him in his XO's eyes. He was sure that would be one blow too many, especially after this week.

The Air Force Building, Washington DC

"Jack!" Daniel Jackson huffed as he followed his best friend towards his office. The archaeologist wanted to yell in frustration. Sometimes he was sure he'd spent the better part of the last 13 years saying 'Jack' in that same exasperated tone.

"What do you want me to do Daniel?" Jack O'Neill asked over his shoulder as he strode past his assistant's desk, completely ignoring her attempts to hand him his messages. Daniel gave her an apologetic smile and accepted the papers before he stepped into Jack's office and closed the door.

"I want you to talk to the IOA," he exclaimed as soon as they were safely ensconced in the room, "I thought that would be obvious! You can't honestly agree with them!"

"I don't really have much say in the matter Daniel," Jack said, his tone clearly indicating that he was losing patience with the conversation, "You know that Homeworld Security is mainly concerned with the SGC and the X304 projects."

"And covering up the existence of the Stargate Program, so it doesn't create wide-spread panic," Daniel said absently, "At least until such time as everyone involved agrees on disclosure."

"Right," Jack agreed, and for a moment Daniel almost felt sorry for him. He knew that realistically there was no way that Jack could still be running a SG team, but something wasn't quite the same with his friend since he'd started 'flying a desk' for a living. He'd almost seemed happier when they were getting shot at every day. He pushed that thought away and returned to the more pressing matter.

"So how are you going to accomplish that?" he asked in his most reasonable tone, "Keeping the Stargate a secret, I mean, when the power reserves fail and the whole world is treated to a perfect view of the Lost City floating in the middle of San Francisco Bay?"

Jack just stared at him incredulously. Daniel resisted the urge to shake the man only thanks to years of practice. He didn't believe for a single second that Jack hadn't considered that happening. Despite what he liked people to believe, he was very intelligent. And Daniel really doubted that Sam wouldn't have voiced the possibility while she was arguing the case. But it would appear that even after all this time, Jack could still underestimate him. Daniel could admit to himself that it stung.

"Come on Jack," he sighed, "Sam told me that the decision has already been made about the Wraith. They know where Earth is now so there's no chance of just leaving them to their own devices and hoping they stay in Pegasus. She said that once the repairs are completed to the Sun Tzu that the Daedalus and the General Hammond will be sent back to deal with the Wraith. You can't honestly expect that they'll be able to accomplish anything without a base in that galaxy."

"When did you become an expert on military tactics?" Jack wanted to know. "Maybe I picked something up over the years," Daniel replied, hoping that he only sounded snide to his own ears.

"I agree with you Daniel," Jack sighed, "And Sam…"

"Do you have much choice?" Daniel interrupted with a grin, "She'd have you sleeping on the couch if you didn't agree with her."

"Funny," Jack said, clearly unamused, "But you're right. Atlantis needs to go back to Pegasus, it's too big a security risk to leave it where it is. And it makes more sense from a strategic point of view. But I don't know that I have that much sway over the IOA."

"But you do have the ear of some people that might," Daniel pointed out hesitantly.

"Why did I ever think it was a good idea to be your friend?" Jack groused, but there was no real heat in his voice.

"I think I spent the first three years of our friendship wondering the same thing," Daniel mused.

Atlantis, San Francisco Bay. July 2009

The city had been languishing in the Bay by the Golden Gate Bridge for the better part of a month, but the mood of the people who live there had improved dramatically. The news that General O'Neill had presented an argument for Atlantis returning home to the Joint-Chiefs and the President had spread like wildfire. The most shocking part of all was that the rumour was- unlike most of the gossip that floated around the Ancient city- completely accurate.

Sheppard's mood was greatly improved simply by the virtue of him not having to argue his case in front of the IOA anymore. With General O'Neill and Teyla in charge of that task, he felt he would probably only hinder matters. After all, he wasn't particularly patient or eloquent, and one of his outbursts was likely to do more harm than good. So instead he spent most of his time with Lorne, keeping an eye on the repairs to the city's hyperdrive, making sure McKay and Carter didn't kill each other, and turning a blind eye to the extensive smuggling ring that seemed to be run by a group of Marines, under the supervision of the Head of Security and the Senior Control Room Technician. Apparently they were not only confident that they would be returning to Pegasus, but determined to be fully prepared when they did. Truthfully, Sheppard didn't want to know what was in half of the boxes that made their way into the city.

He stepped out of his office, intending to go down to the mess hall. A glance over to the control room showed that Stackhouse and Chuck had their heads together again, no doubt planning something he was better off not knowing about. With a faint smile he set off down the steps. He'd barely left the 'gate room when Carter called him over the radio, asking for him to join her and McKay in the Chair room. He acknowledged the Colonel with a sigh and stepped into the transporter. As he stepped back out in a completely different section of the city, he had to wonder what had possessed the Ancients to put the Control Chair so far away from the main tower.

"Sheppard, nice of you to join us, finally," McKay drawled as he walked into the room. Sheppard rolled his eyes and stepped over to the Chair platform.

"Colonel Carter called me all of a minute ago Rodney," he sighed, "I didn't realise that it was emergency."

"It isn't Colonel," Sam Carter assured him brightly, straightening up from behind the Chair, "McKay's just being his usual charming and impatient self."

"So what can I do for you?" Sheppard asked. He had a lot of respect for Colonel Carter. He hadn't minded at all when she'd been given command of the city after what happened to Elizabeth. He remembered her telling him that he'd been considered for the job, but he wouldn't have wanted it. He still didn't. He wasn't ready to give up going through the 'gate just yet.

"We need you to sit in the Chair and see if you can get the hyperdrive systems on line," Carter said.

"No luck with the wormhole drive?" Sheppard asked as he lowered himself into the Chair.

"Not a chance," McKay shook his head, "We barely managed to cobble the thing together in the first place, we're going to have to go back the old fashioned way."

"Old fashioned," Sheppard snorted as he leant back in the Chair, closing his eyes as the awareness of the city flooded into him. Thousands of interconnecting points of data streamed into him through the neural interface, opening the city to him like an extension of his own body. He knew that not everyone had the strength of the gene required to see in such detail, or to withstand the overwhelming influx of information that Atlantis offered them, but he had practice as well as natural aptitude. It only took him moments to sort through everything and find the hyperdrive systems. He brought them to life with a single command, and concentrated on the information the city was sending him. He knew that Rodney and Carter would be running diagnostics on the systems, but maybe Atlantis would tell him something useful straight out and save them some time.

"There's a problem with the flight stabilisation thrusters on the east pier," he said absently.

"That whole fucking area has been nothing but trouble since we set foot in this city," Rodney spat, "And of course Carson had to pick that pier to bust up fighting that Hive ship."

"I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose Rodney," Carter said with exaggerated patience.

"I'm not," McKay growled.

"Why don't you take Zelenka to work on the stabilisers, and I'll carry on with the diagnostic?" Carter suggested. Sheppard still had his eyes closed, focusing on the flood of information from the control interface, but he could hear the sound of McKay stomping around and his complaining getting fainter as he walked away. Five years of friendship and there was still a fine line between the annoying McKay and the amusing one.

It was hours before Sheppard was able to get away from the Control Chair and finally get to the mess hall. Most of the staff had gone already so he had to rummage through the kitchen himself for something to eat. Apparently the round-the-clock staffing had only been necessary when the city was overrun with scientists who had no concept of normal working hours.

He managed to find the tray of leftovers from dinner and helped himself, making a pot of coffee while he waited for his food to reheat. He was drinking his first cup and wondering about the wisdom of imbibing caffeine when it was already so late, when he heard movement behind him. He glanced over at the door to find Lorne standing there regarding him with a faintly sheepish expression.

"Evan," he greeted him brightly, "I didn't expect to see anyone else here, what are you doing?"

"I ah, only just got back from a meeting with Landry at the SGC and I was hoping to get something to eat," Lorne shrugged.

"There's meatloaf in the fridge," Sheppard informed him, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Landry had practically forced Lorne on him as XO at the beginning of their second year in the city. Sheppard had been resistant, he hadn't wanted to replace Ford when he'd been so sure they would find him and bring him home. He thought Landry was giving him the SGC's perfect poster-boy officer in an attempt to keep a rein on him.

But it hadn't worked out like that. It had taken a while, but they had become friends and if he was honest with himself, Sheppard knew he couldn't do his job without Lorne. And now Landry was trying to get Lorne back to the SGC, away from the bad influence that was John Sheppard. He knew Landry didn't like him. He also knew that what the General was offering Lorne had to be pretty tempting. Lorne would probably tell him that he was going to accept a team at the SGC and Sheppard couldn't do a thing about it. He couldn't ask him not to go on the chance that they might get the city back where it belonged, but damn it, he didn't want Lorne to go. He needed him.

They collected their meals in silence and claimed a table by the window, looking out at the bridge as they sat in the darkened mess hall. The water outside was inky, throwing flashes of yellow and orange light up as the rippling waves reflected the artificial lights of the city. The dark clouds rolling overhead fit John's mood perfectly.

"I refused," Lorne said suddenly.

"What?" Sheppard asked, startled by the unexpected voice in the silence.

"Landry's offer, of a team at the SGC," Lorne clarified, twirling his fork absently against his plate, "I think he thought that asking me in person would make me change my mind. But I refused. Told him I already have a job."

"Such as it is," Sheppard said ruefully, looking around.

"I doubt we'll be here much longer," Lorne smiled, "Teal'c told me that 'Colonel Carter sounded very confident when she informed him that she believed Atlantis would be returning to Pegasus as soon as repairs are completed'. Any progress on that?"

"Just the stabilisation thrusters on the east pier to fix," Sheppard said, his mood brightened slightly both by the news that his XO wanted to stay in the city, and by his impression of the Jaffa, "McKay says a few hours, Zelenka said a week."

"I'll take the first estimate," Lorne sighed wistfully.

"You really that keen to get back to Pegasus Evan?" Sheppard asked in surprise.

"I guess I am," Lorne shrugged. He sounded slightly surprised by the idea himself.

"What? Nothing to keep you here on Earth?" Sheppard couldn't help asking.

"I'd say the fact I've hardly left the city since we landed here says a lot," Lorne replied with a wry twist of his lips.

"I noticed that," Sheppard said dryly, "No old friends to visit? Movies to go and watch? Dates?"

Lorne looked sombre and shook his head to every suggestion, and Sheppard couldn't quite decipher the strange mass of emotions that raised in him. Emotions weren't his strongest suit. There was sympathy, for the fact that Lorne really didn't seem to have much of a life outside of Atlantis, but it was also comforting. After all, he'd noticed that Lorne hardly left the city because he himself spent so much time there. But that really didn't bother him that much. Most of his old friends were dead or otherwise not speaking to him, and the closest thing he'd had to a date in the last six months was the evenings he spent with Lorne. It was that, or being held hostage by Larin, and if he was honest with himself, the evenings with Lorne were far more enjoyable. They certainly involved less physical injury.

"You want a beer when we're done eating?" he asked, "Chuck managed to get me a recording of this week's football games?"

"Sounds like fun sir," Lorne said, smiling again.

"Lose the 'sir' when we're off the clock, call me John," he instructed, not even seeing the wide-eyed look his suggestion earned him.

Two days later Lorne was sitting in their shared office, staring at the report on the screen in front of him but not really seeing it. He was preoccupied with thinking about Sheppard and he was angry at himself for it. He'd worked with the man for four years and he'd never had as much trouble keeping his feelings at arm's length during work as he had over the last few weeks. He supposed it didn't help that there were no missions to go on to keep him distracted, and the usual mountain of paperwork he had to contend with was conspicuously absent since they came back to Earth.

The door hissed open and he looked up, startled. Sheppard was standing in the open doorway with a huge grin on his face that made Lorne's heart skip. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Colonel look that happy. He could feel a smile forming on his own lips, just from seeing Sheppard's, without even knowing what had caused it.

"Good news Lorne," the grinning man announced, "The IOA caved. They're letting us go home."

"Really?" Lorne demanded incredulously, suddenly understanding Sheppard's obvious elation.

"We just have to get everyone who's coming with us back to the city, load up on supplies, and we'll be heading back to Pegasus tomorrow night," Sheppard was grinning like a loon and Lorne had an overwhelming urge to hug him.

It was the middle of the night, and the city was bustling. Almost everyone who'd been stationed in the city had returned, and none of them had shown any sign of going to bed before the 'show' got started. Lorne was standing in the Chair room, watching as Sheppard ran through what passed for pre-flight checks. There were a few people standing around, including Zelenka and the airman who'd been assigned to keep an eye on John during his shift in the pilot's seat. Lorne had to wonder what the guy had done to earn himself the night shift in the Chair room their first day back. Sheppard was in the Chair because he was the best person to get Atlantis back in the sky. Lorne just wanted to watch.

He barely heard McKay's voice over the radio announcing that they were ready to go. Sheppard acknowledged the report and his face set in a determined expression. His fingers danced over the gel-like controls, making Lorne swallow hard before the Chair started its slow rotations, taking the tantalising sight out of his line of vision. The city started shaking as the star-drive powered up, and Lorne couldn't deny a surge of adrenaline ran through him in response. The thrusters powered up, raising clouds of steam from the Bay as the city started its slow journey upwards. The cloak was still functioning, but the darkness shielded the other evidence of the city's departure, though as Lorne had pointed out, it was hardly rare to see mist and fog over San Francisco Bay. Atlantis laboured up and away from Earth, for the second time in its existence. It was going home.

Washington DC. August 2009

Jadzia Davis strode away from the university campus with her infamous temper flaring. Only years of hard earned control had stopped her from punching somebody. Not that that would have done any good. She shifted her shoulders awkwardly in her smart jacket and reached back to tug her hair free of the braid that she'd spent a good twenty minutes fighting it into that morning. She hadn't even shook it out before her phone started playing 'War Machine'. It took her a second to realise it was hers and she sighed in exasperation as she pulled it out of her pocket.

"Becker, you have to stop changing my ringtones," she admonished when she answered.

"Hello to you too Dax," said the amused voice on the other end of the call, "I was just calling to see how the interview went."

"How do you think it went?" she spat, then frowned as she twisted to check her watch, "What time is it wherever you are? Where are you anyway?"

"London," Becker replied, "It's been quiet at work the last few days."

"That's great Beck," she said, "But you're still what, five hours ahead of me? Did you really sit around and wait for me to get out of my interview?"

"I thought you might need a friend to rant at," he replied easily.

"Well you asked for it," she said, paying little attention to her surroundings as she walked and talked, "Should it really be this difficult for me to find a job? I mean, I had to look into teaching because apparently I'm over-qualified for a research assistant's job because I have 2 PhDs, but then I'm too young to even be considered for a teaching job in the UK so I have to apply at the American universities, of all places!"

"At least you got an interview," Becker pointed out.

"Yes, so I had to borrow money from you so I could come on this stupid trip," she pointed out, "And all they wanted was for me to walk in there so they could gawk at the freak with the 160 IQ. I should be used to this by now, shouldn't I?"

"It's been the same since you were shoved unceremoniously into a class full of people three years older than you and you made every one of us feel as dumb as posts," Becker laughed.

"What am I doing wrong?" she asked, as if her friend might have the answer.

"Did you introduce yourself as Dax, or did you manage to remember that you have a real name?" he wanted to know.

"I have a real name?" she asked in a mock puzzled tone. It was true that she used her nickname more than her actual name, to the point that there were some people who couldn't have told you her given name under the threat of torture.

"You're funny," Becker told her dryly, "Go find a bookshop Dax, that always cheers you up."

"That is an excellent idea," she said, "Thank you Beck. I'll see you when I get back?"

"If I can get away," he agreed.

"Bye Becker."

Daniel Jackson pulled a book from the shelf and studied the back cover, pondering if it was worth adding to his collection. He already had an armful, and it was all Jack's fault, since he'd asked Daniel to come to DC for a meeting and then put it back, leaving the archaeologist with time to kill. The book was returned to the shelf and he picked up another, glancing up as someone joined him on the otherwise empty floor.

It was a young woman, in her early twenties he guessed, wearing black pants and jacket over a blouse, though she didn't look comfortable. Her hair was red, and it reached just past her shoulders in a messy tangle, as if she'd just pulled it loose. She walked along the row of shelves, apparently unaware that there was anyone else in the room, her eyes focused on the books. Daniel turned his attention back to the shelves. He looked over several more, before adding one more to the stack he was already carrying and turning for the stairs. He was still looking down at the books when he started moving, and he walked straight into the young redhead. There was a clatter as books hit the floor and she cursed.

"Sorry," he apologised bending down for the fallen tomes.

"That's ok, I wasn't really focused on what was going on around me," she said sheepishly and he blinked in surprise. Her accent sounded British.

"I wasn't looking where I was going," he told her, frowning as he looked down at the book he just picked up, "Ancient Celtic Practices? I didn't…"

"That's mine," she laughed holding out a hand.

"Really? You need it for a class?" he asked in pleasant surprise.

"A little late for that actually, I finished my anthropology doctorate last year." she replied, "Just a personal interest."

"You're an anthropologist?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise, and she nodded.

"Among other things," she shifted her book into her left hand and offered him her right, "Jadzia Davis, but everyone calls me Dax."

"I'm Dr Daniel…"

"Jackson," Dax interrupted with a delighted smile, "I thought I recognised you, your picture was online. I referenced some of your work for my dissertation."

"Why?" Daniel asked with a frown of confusion.

"My lecturer was a stuffy, stuck up, pain in the arse. I thought maybe I could give him a heart attack and spare future generations," she replied glibly, making him chuckle slightly.

"Did it work?" he enquired.

"He retired," Dax shrugged, one corner of her mouth twitching upward and blue-green eyes sparkling.

"What brings you to the States?" he asked, straightening up now they'd collected the fallen books.

"I had an 'interview'," she said bitterly, "For all the good it did."

"What were you interviewing for?" he asked curiously.

"Teaching post," was the unenthusiastic reply, "Since no-one seems to want me for any research projects."

For some reason Daniel was interested to hear the rest of the story. Obviously his life had gotten boring since the Ori and the Goa'uld stopped trying to take over the galaxy. That was half of the reason he wanted to ask Jack to let him go to Atlantis. If he was going to sit behind a desk researching now, it may as well be in Pegasus. He was fully recovered from his last trip to Atlantis, and he could have easily rejoined SG-1, but it wasn't quite the same since Sam left the team, especially with Jack gone too.

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee?" he asked politely. The redhead looked surprised but she nodded and allowed him to steer her towards the cash register.

Once they paid for their purchases, Daniel guided the young woman towards the coffee shop that was just around the corner from the bookshop. There were only a few tables occupied, but Daniel directed them to the quietest section of the shop before sitting down at a table.

"So what do you want?" he asked.

"Caramel latte," she requested after glancing at the menu. He pursed his lips in surprise but nodded. He couldn't help staring when their drinks arrived and she emptied three packets of sugar into the already sickly-sweet beverage before she even tasted it. She looked up to see him watching and scowled.

"Ok, so I actually hate coffee," she admitted, "With a passion. But this makes it just about drinkable, unlike the tea you serve here. Why can't I get a decent cup of tea in this country?"

Daniel couldn't help the laugh escaping him. Though the accent was nothing like the cultured one Sarah had, the comment was so similar to something that she would say… The young woman was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"That just sounded so…" he paused, searching for something that wouldn't sound offensive.

"British?" she asked dryly, "I know, I'm a walking cliché."

"What did you mean earlier, when you said you were an anthropologist 'amongst other things'?" Daniel asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I also have a doctorate in genetics and bio-chemistry," she said with a faint smile, until she took a sip of her coffee and winced, "I minored in zoology."

"How old are you?" he demanded, sure that she must be joking.

"24," she replied casually, "I went to university at 15."

"And no-one would give you a research job?" he asked incredulously.

"Apparently the 'diverse and disjointed' nature of my chosen subjects of study signifies a lack of focus," Dax said sarcastically, "Which is not a quality people look for in potential employees, even if they do have a MENSA membership."

"You're in MENSA?" he asked, wondering how many times he could be surprised in one conversation.

"Since I was 11," she confirmed as if it was nothing that impressive.

Daniel studied her through narrowed eyes for a minute. Fate wasn't something he believed in, though if he did, he would certainly have his suspicions about literally running into this woman. She was a little young, but she was very qualified and obviously intelligent. He frowned; he'd probably run out of favours with Jack…

"Daniel…" a familiar voice interrupted his musings with an expectant tone.

"Jack," he responded, smiling faintly as he looked up at the General, not even wondering how he'd found him.

"Making friends are ya?" Jack asked in that infuriating way of his.

"Yes, actually," he said with a trace of irritation, Jack could still be an ass at times, "This is Dr Jadzia Davis."

"Dax," the redhead corrected, offering Jack her hand easily.

"General Jack O'Neill," Jack introduced himself, shaking Dax's hand.

"Yeah, the uniform kinda gave me a clue," she grinned, unfazed.

"She's funny," Jack said mildly, looking at Daniel with a raised eyebrow. The archaeologist rolled his eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

"Time to go Danny," Jack said.

"Right," he nodded, glancing apologetically at Dax.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Dr Jackson," she said, laughing humourlessly, "It almost makes this trip worthwhile."

"How much longer are you in DC?" he asked as he climbed to his feet.

"My flight leaves tomorrow evening," she replied in puzzlement.

"Do you have a résumé?" he asked, watching as she looked even more confused.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as enlightenment dawned, "You mean a CV! Sure, just a sec."

She dug through her bag and finally brandished a white envelope. She held it out to him, before frowning and pulling it back.

"Why do you want my CV?" she asked.

"I might know of a job for you," he said and her eyes widened as she handed it over, "Is your cell number on here? If I need to call you before you go back to the UK."

"Sure," she nodded, slightly dazed. He nodded and followed Jack out of the coffee shop.

"Daniel?" Jack asked expectantly as they walked towards the Air Force Building.

"Jack?" he responded.

"You want to fill me in?"

"On?"

"Your young friend back there," Jack nodded back towards the shop, "Isn't she a little…well, young for you?"

"Jack, don't be an ass," Daniel sighed heavily, "I was interested in her credentials, she's highly qualified. I think you might be able to find a job for her."

"You running a charity now Daniel?" Jack demanded in exasperation, "We have a very specific recruitment policy for the Program, we don't just offer jobs to anyone we meet on the street!"

"Actually I met her in the bookshop," Daniel told him mildly.

"Oh well, in that case, do whatever you want!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration, "Did you not notice that there was a rather large problem with her potential for employment by us?"

"I know she looks a little young…" Daniel began.

"She's English Daniel!" Jack huffed, "Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would take?"

"Not that much for Atlantis," Daniel said quietly, glancing around to make sure no-one was listening to them. Jack paused, studying him with a narrow-eyed look that Daniel returned with his usual expectant innocence.

"We aren't meant to hire for the city for six months Daniel," Jack said after a minute's consideration, starting walking again, "They've only been back in Pegasus for a few weeks."

"But the Daedalus leaves next week for a supply run," Daniel pointed out.

"Ah, I wondered what you wanted to talk to me about," Jack said, with a hint of triumph in his voice, as if he'd just solved one of the mysteries of the universe. Daniel shook his head as they climbed the steps to the building and passed through security.

"There's not much keeping me at the SGC anymore Jack," he said finally, once they had reached the privacy of the General's office, "SG-1's not the same anymore, and there's not much going on here that really needs me."

"You're missing the action Daniel?" Jack asked with a grin. Daniel refused to even dignify that with an answer.

"I've been authorised to go to Pegasus before Jack, but all of a sudden Landry's telling me you have to ok it," he glared at his friend.

"Last time you went there you nearly died," Jack snapped.

"Because that's never happened before," Daniel scoffed, seating himself in front of Jack's desk.

"Daniel…"

"Jack…"

"Fine! You want to disappear off to Atlantis for the next few months, fine!" Jack huffed in irritation, "But you can tell Sam yourself."

"Ok," Daniel nodded, "So about Dax…"

"Who names their daughter that?" Jack asked.

"She said it's a nickname," Daniel responded, pulling the envelope out of his pocket, "And you could at least look at her qualifications."

"Do you really think that she'll just sign up for a job that she knows nothing about, for a year long stint, off of a chance meeting in a coffee shop?" Jack wanted to know.

"She's applying for work in a foreign country because she can't get a job back home, seems to me that she doesn't have a problem moving away for an unspecified length of time," Daniel shrugged, not bothering too correct him again about where he met the redhead.

"She won't just drop everything and be ready to fly to another galaxy in 6 days," Jack objected.

"You could ask her," Daniel suggested, handing over the sheaf of paper he'd been studying.

"If it means that much to you," Jack sighed, looking over at him suspiciously, "You sure you weren't looking for a date, Danny-boy?"

"You can be really juvenile at times Jack," Daniel sighed.

About an hour and a half later, Daniel was waiting on the steps of the Air Force Building, scanning the street for a telltale flash of red hair. Dax had sounded surprised when he called her to come for an interview, but he couldn't work out if it was because she hadn't expected him to call, or because of where the interview was going to be. But then she probably hadn't been expecting to get a job interview from a chance meeting with a reputedly reclusive and half crazy archaeologist in a book shop.

He spotted her weaving through the throng of people on the street with a look of irritation on her face and a slight flush colouring her pale skin under the dusting of freckles. She looked different. She'd got rid of the clothes she'd worn to the interview before they met, in favour of a pair of grey jeans and a blue-grey shirt. Her hair was loose and had only a hint of a wave to it now, and she looked a lot more at ease. He glanced down at his watch, noting she was a little late as he stepped down to the street to meet her.

"I thought you'd changed your mind for a minute there," he said as she spotted him and closed the distance between them.

"Nothing like that," she assured him with a tight smile, "But I think people here take far too much pleasure in messing with tourists. The biggest lies ever told are 'It's easy' and 'You can't miss it'."

"You got lost?" he asked.

"I was misdirected," she corrected sharply, "Lost implies that you had some clue of how to get where you wanted to go in the first place."

"Right," he agreed, hiding a smirk as he gestured for her to precede him up the steps.

"So this rumour's true after all," Dax said in a thoughtful voice as they passed through security and into the building.

"What rumour?" Daniel asked.

"Well, I did some research when I referenced your work, most of it was over 10 years old, the rest was just rumours and conspiracy theories," Dax told him, "One of which was that you worked for the US military."

"I do seem to have attracted a few conspiracy theories," he admitted with a frown.

"It was that speech you gave on the pyramids that did it," Dax told him, "Conspiracy nuts just love alien cover-ups, no matter how far back they were supposed to have happened. So, what exactly does an archaeologist with some…interesting theories, do for the Air Force?"

"You'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can tell you that," Daniel smiled faintly. Jack was waiting for them when they reached the Homeworld Security office, and he greeted the redhead pleasantly, distracting her from the puzzled way she was studying the lettering on the door. They shook hands and stepped inside. Daniel followed them, closing the door behind him and claiming a seat on Jack's sofa.

"This isn't our usual procedure for hiring, but Daniel insisted that you were worth interviewing Dr Davis," Jack said sitting down behind his desk.

"Ah…I'm not a doctor," Dax said hesitantly as she took the chair opposite, "It's Jadzia, although honestly I prefer Dax. Everyone calls me Dax, sir."

"Not a doctor?" Jack raised an eyebrow and studied her over the piece of paper he'd been examining, "So you're lying about having PhDs?"

"Of course not!" Dax exclaimed indignantly, "It's just that, well, I only left university last year, and I'm not really used to being called 'doctor'. Calling a non-MD 'doctor' is a little weird for me."

"Jack, get to the point," Daniel sighed wearily, knowing that this could go on for days.

"The thing I can't quite get my head around, is what job I could possibly do for the US Air Force," Dax said, looking expectantly between them.

"Well it's only in a technical sense, you'd be listed as a civilian consultant," Daniel told her.

"Ok, so what's the job?" Dax asked.

"Top Secret," Jack said, "There are some non-disclosure forms you have to sign before we can tell you anything about it."

"Alright," Dax shrugged.

"But once you've signed you can't decide you're not interested," Daniel said apologetically, "If you sign you're committing to at least one year at the job before you know anything about it. But it's completely worth it."

"You're serious," she stated looking from one to the other slightly incredulously. They both nodded without a hint of a smile and after a moment Dax nodded slowly, considering. She was silent for a minute that stretched into eternity before she looked up at them.

"Where do I sign?" she asked brightly.