Beyond the Iris: A Stargate Story

Chapter 4

Eleanor

It had been an early morning for me, I secured tickets to a museum exhibition later this afternoon before it closed to celebrate the start of season. There was a collection of impressionists, and something about Monet felt very springtime to me. I knew that I had three new crates of artifacts that had been sent from Area-51 for a project the science department needed in a few weeks.

When I not so casually walked into my office back from lunch I noticed that Daniel's was partially open. The schedule had him home sleeping due to his late night coming back from a trip to DC with Sam. They were acting as liaisons to discuss possible security leaks of information that had been written up in the back pages of a national tabloid. It seemed to put a lot of stress on Colonel O'Neill who would send icy glares at me when I sat in occasional debriefing meetings. I knew his level of distrust was high due to all the altercations he had dealt with over the years, but I was the least of his problems. However, I couldn't just stroll up to a Colonel on the highest ranking SG team and just declare myself not a target to him. That is an easy way to be target number one. I learned that the hard way in academia trying to make friends in a highly competitive work field. Sometimes I was dumb about these things, I could admit that easily. But having 'Inter-dimensional  space program hiding in the mountains of Colorado Springs funded by the military,' posted on the back pages of the National Inquirer just months after I arrived wasn't exactly working in my favor either.

I heard a small ding from the bell I'd installed at my desk chime for my attention as I was working between shelves and jumped at the surprise.

"One moment!" I called back hoisting a box into place and scribbled down the label on the corresponding paperwork. I came around the corner, setting the clipboard down on the table in the center of the room, and saw Daniel standing there with two paper cups in hand and a pleasant smile.

"Coffee?"

"You're an angel among us. I've been at the new crate from PX4-236 all afternoon." I rubbed my temple and took the steaming paper cup from him.

"Then I suppose it would be too much trouble to ask for a moment of your time." His eyes squinted in a plea that I couldn't refuse.

"I'm easily bought." I took in a deep sip and momentarily closed my eyes to savor the sweet combination of caffeine and cream. "And you knew to add extra sweetener. What is it I can assist you with?"

"Next door?" He motioned to his office and I followed him into the cozy museum of a cave he studied in. Whenever I walked into the room I felt as if I were wrapped in an oversized flannel, the soft warmth and comfort was such a stark contrast to the sterile compound we worked in. His ugly collection of furniture that had been strategically gathered from abandoned sections of the base all were being used for more than their original purpose. Shelves that when constructed had no possible idea they'd house both Plato and alien texts. A corduroy loveseat was pushed against one wall with multiple patterned blankets shrouding the rips in it just so there could be somewhere to crash in the late evenings. The tang of stale bergamot and earl gray from forgotten kettles of tea tickled the air, swirling with old parchment and an ancient earthen smell. My eyes always darted around to the visual feast that was wall hangings scattered almost haphazardly wherever there was a blank space to be found.

He pulled out an avocado colored mid century looking metal chair with a gray wool field blanket from across his desk. "You don't have any afternoon meetings do you? I may need you for a while."

It took everything in me to restrain the girlish smile that threatened to escape from me. I could kick myself for being so blindingly obvious of what I feared was a workplace crush delving into dangerous waters. Dr. Jackson was handsome, too handsome. Blue eyes behind smudged spectacles he fidgeted with even now as he looked at me for an answer. He was brilliant, spoke countless languages, solved every puzzle and problem he put his mind to, and had flawless skin. I on the other hand had a slight lactose intolerance and had the spelling capacity of a twelve year old. If that.