The casual visitor to Cheyenne Mountain would never guess the true extent of the excavation that existed there. Miles of tunnels deep within the bowels of the mountain connected rooms where over 600 people worked day and night on a project known only to very few of the residents of Earth. However. the project was known to thousands who lived light years away.
One of those thousands was Jonas Quinn who had taken to wandering the halls of the SGC alone as he explored his new home with an ever present notebook and cup of tea. To any who passed him it would look like his head was on a swivel as he peered into each room he passed. Occasionally he would write something in his notebook carefully holding his cup of tea and the notebook in one hand while he wrote with the other.
He hadn't been allowed out of the mountain yet and he was anxious to see what his new world was like. Watching on television was one thing, but you couldn't touch, smell, or taste what you were seeing on that small screen.
On his second day there he had discovered The Weather Channel. It fascinated him far more than any other of the channels available to him. He could sit and watch the weather outside as it was happening and get a small tour of the world at the same time. He already had a vivid map in his mind of the Earth. He knew which continent Cheyenne Mountain was on and its relationship to the surrounding area. He had watched something called Atmospheres and had seen people snow skiing for the first time in his life at someplace called Steamboat Springs, which, he learned, wasn't far from Cheyenne Mountain. He was anxious to try it. It looked so incredibly fun and exhilarating flying across the snow with two boards strapped to your feet. The only thing that worried him were the tumbles some of the skiers took. Those didn't look fun.
As he walked, he made notes of questions to ask people when he had a chance. The list of questions had grown over a two-week period to fill up almost a quarter of his notebook. The reason was that everyone was so busy with what they were doing, he never really got a chance to ask anyone anything. That was a bit frustrating, but he decided he'd bide his time and soon, he hoped, he'd be able to sit down with someone just to talk.
He knew he was the outsider and that people also blamed him for what had happened on Kelonan with Dr. Jackson. He couldn't fault them that. He blamed himself. He also knew that there was little he could do to right that wrong except try to be the man he thought he was before Colonel O'Neill had shown him that he wasn't.
That hadn't been easy to accept. At first he did what everyone else on Kelonan was doing and that was deny it. However O'Neill's words had infected his mind like a virus. Each hour that passed brought with it more symptoms until he couldn't ignore them or deny them any longer. As he contemplated what he knew he had to do, he wondered if the cure was worse than the disease because it meant that he would have to give up his life and his home. It meant being labeled a traitor and a thief by those people whose respect he had always strove to obtain; but what good was garnering respect from people whom he couldn't respect in return?
Truth had taken a back seat to failure and ego. That he found he could not live with and once that revelation was absorbed, he had begun to plan. He just hoped that one day his people would look more kindly upon what he had felt he had to do in order to cure the disease that had taken over Kelonan's soul and his.
Now here he was, wandering his new home ... alone, outcast on Kelonan and outcast here and feeling just a little sorry for himself. He was so immersed in his own thoughts, he had walked without taking note of where he was going. Looking quickly around, he realized that he was standing outside of the infirmary. He'd been there several times over the last couple of weeks submitting to a battery of tests. Some had been rather intrusive, but he knew that they were necessary.
Coming to a decision, he walked inside.
He was once again reminded of how similar some things were on Earth to what he was used to on Kelonan. The feel and the smell of a place where a person only went when they were ill or injured was the same here as it had been on his home world. It was quiet in here today. No one was being tended and the nurses were all doing small jobs that nurses do when they have no patients needing their care.
One noticed him standing in the doorway and approached. "Mr. Quinn, is there something you need? Something I can do for you?"
Jonas shook his head, "No, thank you. I'm just trying to find my way around. It's a big place."
She smiled at him, nodded, and went back to what she had been doing. Jonas watched as she walked back to her station. He looked around to see if anyone had finished what they were doing, but all he saw were backs. Sighing, he turned and exited the infirmary to be met once more by a long, empty corridor. His stomach suddenly grumbled reminding him that it had been several hours since he had last eaten.
The food here was similar to Kelonan's but Dr. Fraiser had warned him that he might need to acclimatize to the richness of it suggesting he eat six small meals a day rather than the usual three larger meals and to keep track of what he ate each time. She told him that the last thing she wanted was to find he had gone into anaphylactic shock from something he had eaten. Taking her advise, he'd gone through the fruit that was abundant in the dining hall finding it to be the easiest, and certainly the tastiest, so far.
He made a decision on his way to the dining hall. He was going to try that blue jiggly stuff that he had seen Major Carter eating. She had seemed to enjoy it as he surreptitiously watched her the other day. Maybe eating something that tried to get away from the eater would lighten his mood.
***
A week had passed since his battle with the blue Jell-O. He had conquered it and had then gone onto try the other colors. What he found was that the red's flavor was the most pleasing to him. Each time he went to the dining hall, he made sure to get a serving of it along with whatever else he was trying for that day. It certainly made for interesting taste combinations especially with the yellow vegetables that he had decided he didn't care for much.
Meal times were when he really felt the isolation. He always chose a table in the middle of the room and always sat facing the door. He had dreams that this way he could catch someone's eye as they walked in and invite him or her to sit with him. Unfortunately, what usually happened was that whosever eye he caught would find that person smiling at him, but walking away to join someone else. He persevered, however, and kept to his table and seat choice. Apparently people began to notice because one day he had walked in to find the dining hall almost filled to capacity. Every table but one was full and that table was the one he usually sat at. He shook his head sadly because it looked just as lonely as he felt. Determined not to let it get him down, he got his lunch and sat down at his table. Not one to eavesdrop on other conversations, he began one of his own with the chair across the table from him. He pointedly ignored the odd looks he was receiving from the others in the dining hall who had noticed what he was doing. As soon as he had finished eating, he rose, his dignity still intact as he grinned because of some of the looks he'd received on the way out the door.
It was now late morning and he had tired of watching The Weather Channel and reading Dr. Jackson's books. Interesting as they were there was only so much reading one could do before the eyes started to rebel at the strain of focusing on so much small print.
Jonas decided another trip around the SGC was in order. He would at least get to stretch muscles cramped from sitting all morning. He made sure his travel mug was filled with hot tea and grabbed his notebook and a pen.
The corridors were empty again except for the occasional person walking from one lab to the other usually so intent on their goal they never noticed that Jonas was there. At first he had tried to start a conversation with some but found that although polite, most seemed to him to be impatient to be back on their way so he had stopped that practice. Now he roamed, like a ghost, unseen through the SGC.
Most days found him back at the infirmary, where he would glance inside to see if there were any patients who needed company figuring that they would be captive audiences. However, the past several weeks had been quiet as far as any of the away teams suffering an injury or illness. Today was no different so he left quickly and headed for the control room.
Sergeant Davis was at his usual post running a diagnostic on the dialing computer. Two other techs were also in the room doing something at another computer terminal. As he started to walk over to them to see what it was they were doing, the Stargate started its familiar powering up sound indicating an incoming wormhole.
Sergeant Davis stopped the diagnostic to watch the screen for any incoming signals that would indicate it was an off-world team. As Jonas watched, he recognized the ID code that slowly appeared. Satisfied Davis placed his hand on the palm scanner that would open the iris. From the back of the room, Jonas watched the iris slide open. Moments later SG-1 came walking casually through the event horizon with O'Neill the last one through. As he appeared, he looked up at the observation window above the control room, shaking his head and making a slicing motion across his neck with the other.
This was the second off-world trip for SG-1 with a prospective teammate. Reading O'Neill's facial expression and hand signals, Jonas figured that Captain Calloway wouldn't be joining the team. As he watched O'Neill leave the Gate Room, an idea occurred to him. It would, however, take a great deal of planning on his part and might require the help of Major Carter and Teal'c. Unfortunately at this point in time, he was sure that they wouldn't receive the idea with anymore enthusiasm as O'Neill would.
***
Janet Fraiser was busy going over requisition forms when she heard a knock on her door. Looking up she saw one of her day nurses standing there. She closed the folder she had open on her desk and waved the girl in.
"Is there a problem in the infirmary, Lieutenant?"
Lieutenant Grace Alvarez shook her head. "No, ma'am. Not in the infirmary, but there is something I'd like to talk to you about."
Janet relaxed in her chair and placed both hands, palms together on the top of her desk. "Go ahead."
"Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"
Alvarez was new to the SGC only having been there for one week. She was replacing another nurse whose pregnancy was now at the stage where she found it difficult to maneuver around easily and had decided to take her family leave a week early.
Janet had been keeping an eye on Alvarez to see how she was fitting in. She had been pleasantly surprised to find her with a good, solid head on her shoulders, but a bit shy. "Go ahead, lieutenant."
"Thank you, ma'am." Alvarez cleared her throat then began, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "Ma'am I know I'm new here. I... ah... well I mentioned something to Lieutenant Phillips and ma'am, I'm not really sure but something is going on and well, it's kind of creepy."
Janet sat forward in her chair. "Creepy?"
"Yes, ma'am. There's this guy that keeps coming to the infirmary every day. He just walks in, looks around, and then leaves. It's creepy," said Alvarez.
"I assume you're talking about Jonas Quinn," stated Janet.
"Yes, ma'am. That's his name. Lieutenant Phillips told me that he was responsible for killing someone who'd been here from the beginning."
Janet sighed, "That would be Dr. Daniel Jackson and Lieutenant Phillips is wrong. Jonas Quinn didn't kill Dr. Jackson. Dr. Jackson was exposed to a lethal dose of radiation while visiting Mr. Quinn's world. Besides that, we don't know for sure if Dr. Jackson is actually dead."
"But Lieutenant Phillips said ..."
Janet stopped Alvarez before she could continue. "I don't care what Lieutenant Phillips said. There's a lot that happened that Lieutenant Phillips and all the other gossipmongers around here don't know. You would be wise, Lieutenant, to ignore them."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Now, is that all?" Janet asked finding herself impatient with the young woman.
"Yes, ma'am."
"All right, dismissed then," said Janet.
She waited until Alvarez had left her office. "Damn," she whispered. Making a decision she rose from her chair and left her office. On the way through the infirmary she threw a cautionary look at Alvarez who looked contrite when she saw it. She knew that as soon as she left the infirmary, Alvarez would tell the others what had happened between them. That was something she'd have to deal with later. She had something more important on her mind, something she was now berating herself for. She should have noticed sooner.
It wasn't as if she didn't have a lot on her mind since Daniel's ascension. Patching up the new candidates for SG-1, including SG-1 had taken up quite a bit of her time. And she did miss Daniel. She often found herself heading to his lab to ask him something only to realize halfway there, that he was gone. She'd always turned back to the infirmary once that thought found light, but this time she would go all the way because it wasn't Daniel she was going to see. It was Jonas.
As Janet got closer to what used to be Daniel's lab, she heard music. Tilting her head to one side, she concentrated recognizing Brahma's Symphony #2. Interesting that Jonas should have drifted into classical music. Finally arriving outside the door to the lab, she looked inside. It looked different, neater for one thing, but there were other changes as well. Quite a few of the artifacts that Daniel had kept in the room were now gone. However the shelves still sagged under the heavy weight of several dozen books of all shapes and sizes. On a shelf that used to hold Daniel's computer there now sat a small television set and what Cassie called a boom box.
The television was tuned to The Weather Channel, the sound muted. Jim Cantore was standing in front of a map of the western United States gesturing broadly over California, pointing to some green blobs that indicated rain. If what Janet saw was any indication, Los Angeles was going to be under a downpour in a few minutes.
Her eyes tracked to the large table in the center of the room. Jonas Quinn sat there hunched over a book, a sectioned orange next to it. As she watched, Jonas reached over to take one of the orange slices and pop it into his mouth. She cleared her throat and when Jonas didn't react, she did it again . Louder this time.
Jonas' head popped up and he swiveled around in his chair. As soon as he saw her standing there, he smiled broadly and stood. Just as suddenly, his expression changed to concern. "Dr. Fraiser. Do you need me to take some more tests?"
Janet walked into the room and shook her head. "No Jonas. I, ah, well I need to apologize to you," she said.
Jonas' look turned to confusion. "Apologize? What for?"
Janet's hands found their way into the pockets of her lab coat. "It was brought to my attention today that you've been visiting the infirmary and I hadn't noticed."
Jonas' expression now turned to concern again. "I'm sorry. I didn't.."
Janet pulled a hand from her pocket and held it palm out to stop him while at the same time shaking her head. "No Jonas, that isn't what I mean." Replacing her hand in the pocket of her coat she continued, "I mean that I should have noticed you were visiting and I should have guessed the reason why."
Understanding dawned on Jonas' face along with a smile that would have melted the heart of any young woman. He'll never be any good at cards, thought Janet. His face betrayed everything he was thinking and feeling. If he tried bluffing, he'd lose.
"May I?" asked Janet pointing to a tall four-legged stool.
"Oh, of course," sputtered Jonas moving the stool closer to the table. He waited until she sat down before sitting on his own.
"You've rearranged things."
Jonas' head swiveled around. "Well some of the things were Dr. Jackson's personal items and Major Carter and Teal'c packed them up. I understand that he has a grandfather. Major Carter said they would store them until he could collect them."
Janet nodded, "Nic. He's off world right now. Colonel O'Neill notified him and he'll be coming back any time now."
"Ah. I was allowed to read Dr. Jackson's journals before they took them away. I guess because they contain so much information about the Stargate that they've classified them and they have to be kept here. But his books ."
Janet glanced over at the book Jonas had been reading. "Is that one of them?"
Jonas turned and picked it up and Janet saw the cover. It was one of those composition notebooks that some kids used in school. Daniel had never used notebooks of that type so it couldn't have been one of his.
"This is mine," explained Jonas. He ruffled the pages. "I write down stuff. You know things I notice, questions I have to find the answers for . things like that."
"Questions?" asked Janet.
"Yeah. Some of the things that you have here are pretty similar to Kelonan, but there are differences so when I see them, I write them down."
"And do you find the answers to your questions?"
Jonas smiled but Janet got the feeling that it wasn't a smile of happiness but one of convenience to put her at ease. "Sometimes," he said, "but not all the time."
Suddenly Janet knew that this was a man who wasn't going to feel sorry for himself no matter what life threw at him. He wasn't someone who was just going to go through life accepting his fate either. He'd work at it, with infinite patience, until he found a solution.
"You know Jonas, I've got some time right now. Maybe I could help you find some of those answers," suggested Janet.
"Really? Are you sure?" asked Jonas. "I've got quite a few questions." He rifled the pages of his notebooks to show her that it was now almost full.
Janet smiled. "Well maybe not that much time, but there's always tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that."
"Right. Well ah, there is one thing I'd really like to know then."
"What's that?" asked Janet.
Jonas looked down at his chest and with one hand he pinched the front of his t-shirt and tugged on it. "Is there some rule that says that we can't get larger t-shirts? Sergeant Vasquez said that she only stocks medium and small."
Janet looked at the t-shirt that Jonas was wearing noticing that it was awfully tight and that he definitely looked good in it. She decided she'd let Vasquez keep her little joke . For awhile anyway.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: FEEDBACK/COMMENTS/CRITIQUES: Always appreciated and always read.
July 11, 2002 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.