"I know you didn't cheat, honey," Janet assured her daughter. "You put so much effort into studying that you didn't need to cheat."

While Janet wished for nothing more than to rip open the door and start attacking, her daughter needed her. She hugged Cassie until her tears had stopped. Then the door opened to the conference room and the principal exited. His countenance was one of a joyful man given an unexpected reprieve until he saw THEM. He flinched when he saw the military fatigues.

"Dr. Fraiser, please tell me that there's not a tank in the front parking lot," he requested. "Or a Navy carrier in the swimming pool. One Russian colonel was enough. My ears are still ringing, and I have a pretty good idea what he was saying in the allegedly Northern Russian dialect."

"I can easily get both here with one simple phone call," Mamma Bear Fraiser growled. "Don't make me bring in the Marines. They're dying for an excuse to practice their rappelling."

Since the principal lacked the proper security clearance, she couldn't threaten him with the Tok'Ra. But Jake Carter owed her a few so he was her Alien up her Sleeve.

"You don't have to bring in the Marines. Everything's been resolved. Your daughter will receive a ninety eight on her exam, and even the slightest thoughts of cheating have been put to rest. Her total is ninety eight because she didn't show all her work on the one question. While Colonel Chekov was kind enough to demonstrate the shortcut he taught her, it's not part of our curriculum."

The principal exhaled, and then added, "Though we're thinking of adding it. Do you want to come into the conference room? By that I mean, you, Cassandra and one of your team. We can talk about this, explain why we were concerned about what happened and I hope that she will accept our apology that we were wrong. It was a substantial improvement in her grades, the non-sanctioned short cut, plus the fact that her tutor was a Russian Air Force colonel. Since the good Colonel is left handed, his demonstration of the shortcut clarified why one of her symbols didn't look familiar."

The principal's smile was pained.

"Well, first we need to thank Colonel Chekov for his assistance, then we'll chat," Janet offered.

"I'm afraid that he's already left. He had to catch his plane," the principal admitted.

Janet nodded her head.


A few weeks later, Janet realized that the Russian Bear was back at the mountain as there was a noticeable egress of personnel from the lower levels of the base, especially from Med Bay. She found him sitting in her office, obviously anticipating her arrival.

"Doctor Fraiser!" His greeting was upbeat and cheerful. "I understand that I need to thank you as it appears Lt. Kravchenko is once again hale and hearty, as you Americans would say."

"You're picking up Americanisms with astonishing ease," Janet teased.

Chekov waived his hands and spat out some Russian. "When in Rome," he helpfully translated.

"I don't think that was the real translation," protested Janet. "I caught something about Tula and a samovar."

She was rewarded with a smile that was distinctively unbearlike, and bordered on wolfish.

"Translation is 'Nobody goes to Tula with one's own samovar'. Tulsa is renowned for having the best samovar, so why drag one with you?" Chekov snapped his fingers and leaned back. "I need to find one for my people. There must be a samovar somewhere near Cheyenne Mountain."

Janet Fraiser mentally filed away the term samovar and decided she'd investigate it later.

"Now, the real reason I am here. How is Cassandra and her physics?" Chekov asked.

"Doing better, now that she has a firm understanding of the basics."

"No unauthorized shortcuts?"

"None," she admitted.

"Excellent. Her teacher's mind was small. Did not appreciate deviations from the standard mean." Chekov barked a laugh,

"I never got a chance to thank you for intervening with her teacher," Janet inserted. "You left before I could thank you."

Chekov stopped laughing and he nodded his head. "I needed to make that flight home. As it was, I barely made to Irishka's funeral mass on time. I'm quite sure she understood why I was late, however the archpriest bestowed a most fearsome look upon me."

"I'm sorry for your loss," was Janet's empathetic response.

In response, Chekov exhaled. Slowly. "It's been five years since my wife died. Her passing no longer stings as badly as it once did."

The Russian looked away from her, and Janet was grateful for the reprieve because Chekov was lying. Let him have his secrets, she decided. After a few minutes, the Colonel softly spoke, "Do you have more of those miracle pills? I am need of fortification before I speak with Hammond, as no doubt O'Neill will also be involved."

"I'll give them to you. Just promise me that you'll take them with water. I don't want you ripping your esophagus."

"Yes, I promise," he quietly stated. "If you were angry with me, I would be most… saddened."

Then his Russian humor flared, as he added, "For you are the only one that willingly talks to me here."

His laugh was warm and he smiled. Broadly.