Spoilers: Rising

A/N: Thanks to Keenir for beta.

At last, Dumais meets Peter!


Chapter Three

"You speak Spanish very well."

Peter rose from his crouching position over a crate in the corridor, deep in Cheyenne Mountain. He turned to meet the owner of the soft, feminine voice. He tried to pinpoint the undertones beneath the American, no, correction, Canadian, accent. Those vowels always gave it away. And not Spanish, he thought, French, and only the barest hint. A pretty young woman was smiling at him. She tucked the strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear.

He held out his hand to shake. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met. The name's Grodin, Peter Grodin."

"I know. A sergeant told me. I am Annette Dumais. I need to talk to you about the transfer of my equipment."

He frowned. "Dumais? Oh, yes. Of, course. I'm supposed to look at your crates. Glass?"

"Yes, a lot of fragile equipment, I'm afraid." She smiled apologetically.

As she led the way along the corridor, they dodged their busy colleagues. Everyone seemed intent on preparing for the 'gate travel that might be a one-way trip.

"You speak Spanish?" he asked, curious.

"Yes, a little. I heard you talking to José Vargas, he comes from a town near somewhere I used to work in northern Spain."

"Ah, yes, Vargas. One of my engineers, actually. Nice chap. Now tell me, how much equipment do you have, exactly?"

"There are six containers. I have taken only what I thought was absolutely necessary," she offered, knowing she had a large consignment.

"Of course. May I ask what you do?"

"Sure." She grinned knowingly. "By profession I am an archaeo-ethno-pharmacologist," she said, parsing the word. She looked into his eyes to judge his reaction.

Peter's eyebrows were raised high, his mouth open. "Am I supposed to translate that as well?"

"It shouldn't be that hard if you are so fluent in the Romance languages," she teased.

He shook his head, grinning. "Let me see. You dig up old bones and test them for illicit substances?"

"Nice try, Peter." She stopped beside a pile of containers. "Here. These are mine. I have two large crates and these four small cases." She pointed to a group of metal and fibreglass containers in the corridor.

Peter concentrated as he checked them over, and referred to his documents on the clipboard he carried. He briefly made some calculations, knowing how much gear the Marines were going to be able to take through the Stargate for the science contingent.

"OK. No problem. I'll get them all safely through for you tomorrow. The big day." He tucked his board under his arm, and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Coffee time?"

"Mmm. Good idea. Shall we?" She said, falling into step beside him as they headed for the elevator.

"So, tell me. What do you really do, Annette?"

She gave a small laugh. "All right. I haven't told you yet, have I? Well, I have some experience in recreating medicines used by people who lived long ago. Specifically, I have worked mostly with medieval sites in southern France and northern Spain. I analyse finds from the archaeological evidence, and try to mimic ancient practices, to produce usable and effective medication from natural materials, just as they did. It helps us learn more about a culture and how they applied medicinal practices. Dr Weir thinks I will become your very own pharmaceutical production unit, using whatever is available in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Wow." Peter was impressed. "I don't suppose there are many of you around?"

"I have similar colleagues in a few countries, but, no, you are right, it is not so common."

Grodin checked the flag on her shoulder. It was the French flag, but something just didn't quite fit. He frowned. "You're French?"

"Half." She replied, "I was born in France, but brought up in Canada; my parents are French. Until I came here, I had been working in Europe for a few years. My guess is that I am the closest thing they wanted to a French person on the team."

He raised an eyebrow at that one. "They get to look good on paper, but don't have to deal with France too much. Mmm, that sounds believable, sadly…And tell me, what's with all the glass equipment?"

"Glass is still our best material for many processes. Dr Weir has made me well aware that once Earth medical supplies run out, I may be crucial to our medicinal needs."

Grodin sought her eyes as the elevator slowed, approaching the mess level. "Well, I for one am glad they had the foresight to bring you along."

She smiled. "I am to work with Dr Beckett. Have you met him?"

"Carson? He's a good chap. I'm sure he's very pleased to have you on his team. My boss is Dr McKay."

Annette's brow furrowed. "My boss is Dr McKay also. All to do with laboratory allocation and that I am not actually clinical staff, in that I don't have direct patient contact. I have not met Dr McKay yet. Dr Beckett has told me to only interact with him if absolutely necessary."

Peter snorted. "Hah. He's not so bad. Just, well, I suppose…that's not bad advice actually." His eyes twinkled as he caught her surprised expression.

As they entered the mess, Peter led the way to an empty table.

"What can I get you? Coffee? Tea?" he asked as she sat.

"Black coffee please. Thank you." She smiled at him, and watched him thoughtfully as he walked away from her towards the serving counter.

When he returned, he handed her a cup. She took it, and blushed as their hands touched. He smiled, sensing the chemistry between them.

"Annette. If there is anything you need, now or when we get there, you will let me know, won't you?" he leaned forward, looking into her anxious eyes.

"That's very kind of you, Peter. This is all very exciting, but you can tell I am a little nervous."

"We all are, Annette. Believe me."


A/N: Wanted to post this before I go away for the weekend. No e-mail for three days... -eye twitches-