First ever fan-fic. I love the Stargate universe. Testing out my writing style, looking for constructive critiques. Lemme kno if it's utterly predictable and boring. I finished it before posting it. I can't bear waiting for the next chapter to be posted and if I tried to stretch it out, I'd forget to post. I love the show and the characters so I'm extremely faithful to their representation by the writers.

Stargate belongs to MGM and their affiliates. OC belongs to me.

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Ch. 1

Lennah Colare. Photographer.

Well, that's what her business cards say. That's all her clients needed to know.

The government was another story. An invitation to apply for a top secret job meant hours under the microscope in addition to the probable surveillance over the last few months.

"I love my job," she whispered to herself as she looked up at that huge vault door. Just not today. A chill passed over her as she slipped into the shadow of the mountain.

Cheyenne Mountain Complex, the roach motel of political finks trying to delay the hereafter. Not her ideal shoot but military invitations were orders, not requests. Being the daughter of a decorated war veteran taught her that much. And, tequila and smokes don't mix well in the human body.

The elevator ride was a long way down to floor twenty-seven and Lennah had to force herself not to think of the tons of earth under the few inches of metal. She'd had the same problem with a deep-sea habitat in the Atlantic. Heights were magnificent. Depths were not. The thought of the constant pressure focused on the compaction of the human body wasn't pleasant.

She managed a relieved smile at the lift operator when the doors opened. She was not watching where she was going and ran into something solid that muttered. Lennah turned to look up at Dr. Jackson as he pressed a button on the panel, scruffy and absolutely charming.

He smiled at her as he leaned against the back of the lift.

"Dr. Jackson." She smiled back, slightly dazed. "Hi." Last place I expected to see you.

"Hi," he replied as the doors began closing. "Um, Bye?"

"Bye!" she called, too late to stop the lift doors. Lennah considered the irony of the doctor's presence in an underground facility meant for preserving the world's best and brightest, i.e. rich. That man's book sold five copies. He didn't qualify for any of the above. Cute, though.

The conference room was already in full reveille. Stuffy suits on the other end of a long table cycled away files on the last interviewees. Aides shuffled in and out with coffee and stacks of paper, barely dodging one another in their nervous frenzy. A shuttered window took up the wall on her left. I wonder what's behind door number one.

"Ms. Colare," one man called, saying 'col-LAIR' instead of 'COL-ar-eh'. But he should be pitied. Here was a thin, pale looking man. His expression was pinched like he constantly suffered from gas or constipation. A pencil neck if ever there was one.

Lennah simply smiled and nodded at the others present. Two men and a woman, all looking extremely bored. They only spoke when the pencil neck failed to communicate adequately.

"Are we given to understand that you have worked with the military before?" The pencil neck. No introductions yet.

"Yes."

"..." He looked up at her for a moment, implying she should continue.

"What was this particular occasion?" another interviewer prompted. She chanced an irritated look at the pencil neck. Clearly he was in charge and exploitative.

"That depends." Lennah chuckled uncomfortably as one does in such circumstances. She certainly didn't want to talk about that anyway. Her father had finagled her into a military op. He didn't believe in career that couldn't be jump started by 'The Service' and he took out his frustrations liberally.

The man rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "I think it's safe to assume that, as we know about it, we have the clearance to... well, ...know about it."

Lennah paused. "Not really." If you had clearance you'd have the file and not need to ask me.

She smiled, nonplussed, at the aggravated look.

"Oh, Woolsey, you... You." A new voice said from the open door... Lennah turned to see General Jack O'Neill coolly enter the room. Lennah knew him only from the pictures in her father's den and the old man's stories of 'Jack' but she felt as though she were meeting a childhood hero she just found out was real. "She's not going to breach security. She's smarter than that."

"Sir..." Lennah nodded to him. Here was a man she could respect. A strong leader who continuously stuck it to the man. Good sense of humor. Handsome to top it all off. Nice piece of pie.

"Colare." He responded in like as he looked her over. Probably seeing my father in me... yeah, probably.

"General O'Neill." The interrogator was out of his seat now and calling to his errant dog. "You are not a part of this interview."

Jack just stuck his hands in his pockets. I won't touch anything just let me play. Lennah could only smile. "Oh, I am most thankful for that, Woolsey, so glad you could do without me on this one. It's just I'm here to have lunch with Ms. Colare and as your last…" Jack exaggerated looking at his watch, aggravating Woolsey. "HUNDRED or so interviewees, all took a grand total of three hours each, I figured I'd clock you."

Jack and Woolsey stared each other down for a moment. Woolsey caved. Jack took up a seat to wait.

Woolsey put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "Well, Ms. Colare why don't you tell me what all is required for this job."

Lennah answered intentionally textbook.

"You want someone who can disappear. Unattached. Won't be missed. Absolute discretion. Get the job done efficiently. Follow orders. Someone who goes by the... book..."

And then it hit her. Dr. Daniel Jackson. She only knew about his book from the X-files forums.

Woolsey smirked and steepled his fingers. Yet another had caved to his interrogation techniques.

"Huh," she said to herself. "My God."

"What?" Woolsey eyed her closely, wondering. He inspected her file and shot a smug look to a fellow interviewer who was not so impressed.

"Nothing." Lennah smiled breezily. "Nothing at all."

Lennah felt the interview crawl, surviving like she'd just faced finals week. The cafeteria was a noisy relief for once. Who knew entering the atmosphere of an established hierarchy, that more often compared to a pack of wild dogs, could ever be so comforting. Here, it wasn't so much about who ate first or with whom. There was an air of easy comfort that went along with sedated conversation spotted with widespread laughter. One didn't have a conversation with only one's crowd, but with all people within earshot.

Jack was nice. He kept her coffee cup full and they talked like old friends. She was surprised to find herself so open with a stranger, but he was her father's friend. Lennah loved talking about her father this way. Mom and her brothers didn't want to be reminded so soon after...

"You should go." Jack said, breaking her reverie.

"Huh?" she looked at her watch. Is it really that late?

"I mean..." he paused, his tone was commanding. "When they offer you the position. You take it. Without a second thought."

His look was so intense Lennah looked down and picked at her potatoes.

"I know you have a thousand questions. We all do in the beginning. Don't let fear hold you back from this." He picked something out of his coffee, irritated or embarrassed by his conviction. "You won't regret it."

She considered him. There was sincerity in his eyes that she appreciated, as though they were constantly laughing.

Lennah nodded. "Okay." She sighed, groaning internally at her weakness. "I'll get everything ready."

Oh, God... how am I going to explain this to Mom? I can't actually tell her a guy convinced me, she'll start sending out wedding invitations.

When Lennah got home, she reviewed the doctor's book again. Crazy stuff. It was thoughtless of him to publish something like this. And yet... He was happy at Cheyenne. He looked healthy, better than, and confident. Not at all underfed or downtrodden. There was now a competence, even assurance, around him. As though he cavalierly challenged the world to hurl anything at him, knowing he was impervious to ridicule.

But was it really possible? She looked again. Landing pads. That's just ludicrous!

She flopped down in her bed and pulled the covers around her.

Did you trust O'Neill? She'd asked Dad once. She was ten and he'd been retelling some story for the hundredth time.

With my life. He smiled. Maybe even with yours one day.

"I guess it's today, Dad." She said as she drifted off to sleep.

She called Mom first thing in the morning. Tried to explain as best she could. But, finally settled for the best card in her hand. She cringed as she said it though her stern voice did not convey it.

"I'm coming to visit." There was shocked silence on the other end. "I'll be there tomorrow."