It's 0400 and I am cleaning the last of the offices and labs on this level. Dr. Jackson's is my final stop each night. He always works later then everyone else and I don't like to disturb him if he is translating some artifact, typing a report or just happens to be napping on his couch. He does that a lot it seems.
I frequently enter his office at this quiet hour of the morning, and
find him curled up, head on a pillow, glasses askew, quietly snoring. When this happens, I pull the blanket off the back of the couch, cover him and slip out. He never awakens which is testament to just how hard the man works and how tired Dr. Jackson is when he finally gives it up at night.There, too, are many nights when he is already gone when I enter the office. I will clean his desk, trying not to rearrange his papers too much. He's good at leaving his desk somewhat tidy most days, but at times, he is called away suddenly and can't take the few minutes he needs to straighten things up. It is on those nights, I work around his files and books, wiping surfaces, emptying trash, and mopping floors.
Then, I set his coffee maker, to start at 0630. Most days he is in by 0700, getting ready to start another day, no matter how late he had stayed the previous night. There is usually some type of fresh gourmet coffee in his stash, but if, for some reason, he is out, I have some I keep in my locker. I don't know who he thinks starts his coffee in the mornings, probably Major Carter or maybe Colonel O'Neill, both close friends and colleagues. But, it's me.
I have often wondered why I do this for a man who wouldn't recognize me if my life depended on it. I admire him, that is a fact. He opened the Stargate, and if the rumors are true, he has died more often then any one person in this world. Where there is smoke there is fire, so I suspect that this may be true.
I've looked at the books on his shelves and marvel at the wide diversity of subject matter. I took one of his books down one night and read the forward. It was a book written about the theory of cross pollination of ancient cultures. It was considered only theory, but Dr. Jackson and SG1 had proven it to be fact.
I found the pages I'd had an opportunity to read that night fascinating. Interested in reading more, I left Dr. Jackson a note, asking his permission to borrow it. When I returned for my next shift, he had set the book out, leaving me a message telling me I could borrow that book or any other I wanted to read, as long as I let him know which ones I had. Dr. Jackson is kind and generous, despite all the horrible things that have happened to him and the rest of SG1.
Oh, I know that I am not supposed to know very much about the Stargate program, but you can't work, and live, at times, inside a mountain community such as this and keep many secrets. I have been in the control room when SG1 has come barreling through the gate, injured, on the run, weapons fire following them as the iris is closed against the enemy.
I've had weapons training and can fire a P-90 with the best of them. I have on occasion been called upon to act as back-up to the main security force of the SGC. I keep my skills up as required by the Air Force, but for the most part, I work in the maintenance department. I have, though, requested a transfer to an SG team. It will mean intensive training, both in the classroom and with Colonel O'Neill, Master Teal'c and others, but if I am granted the transfer, I will work hard to earn a place on an SG team.
This will be the last night I clean Dr. Jackson's office. I've received a promotion to Sergeant, and will be moving to the maintenance crew for the gate. I have a lot to learn, but I will do my best to keep the door open for SG1 and the rest of the teams going off world on recognizance every day. I hope that someday, I can one of the soldiers going through the gate, meeting new cultures, fighting the enemy and contributing in some small way to the safety of the Earth.
I have set Dr. Jackson's coffee maker, and proceed to his desk to wipe it down and then empty the trash. As I approach, I see a small package on top of the desk with my name on it. There is a card with it.
Opening the card, I read it and smile.
Hey Jane,
I hear congratulations are in order. Or should I say Sgt. Thompson. I'm happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to earn your promotion. Thank you for taking care of things around here all this time. I will miss the fresh coffee being ready each morning, but when you get settled in, stop by and have a cup with me. Good luck to you, see you around the mountain.
Daniel Jackson
Opening the package, I find a copy of the book I'd admired so much. I guess Dr. Jackson does know me. I will stop for that coffee in a few days and thank him for the book. Maybe we can have a discussion about cross pollination as we share a cup.
Thanks to all my heart sisters, you know who you are. Mistakes are all mine. Not alpha'd or beta'd
April 3, 2004 Don't belong to me and never will. Just playing with them for a while. I have no money and most likely never will.