A/N: So sorry it took so long to get this one out. I actually had the first 1000 words written a while ago, but couldn't figure out where to go from there. Then, recently I had an epiphany. This fic will eventually cross over with Stargate: Atlantis!

Chapter Four: Dinner and a Show

"Holy Hannah."

Despite the annoyed look Nat gave him, Jon felt that he deserved to voice his awe in the soft-spoken words. Her 'house' was a two-story Victorian style manor, and it really was unfair of her not to have warned him. She rolled her eyes and pulled him along the marble pathway (marble!) to the imposing French doors and then inside the largish foyer. A butler that put him in mind of Lurch, and the fact that he was what he was, caused him to be himself.

"You rang?"

All he got for his trouble was an elbow in the ribs and a tersely hissed, "Jonathan, seriously, behave yourself!"

He rubbed his now bruised ribs and grinned impertinently. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Besides, you could have told me you lived in a freakin' mansion."

She grumbled under her breath and steered him down a very long hallway before sighing in resignation. "I know I probably should have, but I'd rather it not get around. Too many people would try to come around and visit, pretending they were friends of mine. And if they were to get in, well you can see where there might be problems, right?"

"Sure, they'd never find their way back to daylight again," Jon quipped, "Seriously, though. I really don't…" he broke off as a man wearing chain-mail and brandishing a sword in a threatening manner charged towards them. "On second thought…I know what you mean. Hope you never bring boyfriends here, cause that would definitely be a kill-joy," he murmured, earning him another poke in the ribs and a glare.

"Halt! Thou must answer three questions. The number of questions is three. Three thou must answer!"

"Uh, I think you doth misquoted," Jon remarked casually, then held up his hands when the tip of the sword was placed at the hollow of his throat, "Of course, if that's the way you want to say it, who am I to argue?"

"Harry, put the sword away," an amused feminine voice said from behind them, "And go back to your…room. You should know better."

Jon kept his eyes on the fellow with the sword until it was reluctantly sheathed. Then, the knight bowed low. "As you command, Lady Nicole, I obey." And with that turned and walked off, chain mail clinking with each step.

'Lady Nicole' turned out to be a tallish woman with short, bouncy red curls that were all over the place. She gave him a crooked smile and a tiny shrug. "Sorry about that. Don't let him scare you off." She winked. "Ginger's never brought a boyfriend home before."

"My name is Natalie," Nat protested, before Jon could, cheeks turning red, "And he is not my boyfriend. He's the one I was telling you about yesterday." She huffed and put her hands on her hips. "You weren't paying any attention were you? So intent on your schooling that you forget what's important…"

Nicole's demeanor changed abruptly, fury snapping in her blue eyes. "Right and what we do is so important we have to forget about life outside of it. How could I have forgotten?" She turned abruptly on her heel and stomped off down the hall, in the same direction as Harry had taken. It was about then that Jon realized the hallway now had several connecting corridors that hadn't been there before. He blinked rapidly.

"Uh…so, I take it your not happy with your sister? That was your sister, right?" he asked, "And is it just me, or is something very weird going on in this house?"

Natalie let out a heavy sigh and shrugged. "No, yes and yes. But I can't explain until after dinner, after you've been fully accepted."

"Sweet," he muttered, "Look, a mansion that does a really good impression of Hogwarts, I can sort of handle, and I understand that it would be rather difficult to talk about in mixed company. However, no one mentioned I'd have to go through some kind of 'acceptance' ritual, and I don't think…what?"

Natalie was laughing, her eyes crinkled behind the thick lenses. "Nothing like that Jonathan," she assured him, "Just having you meet all the principles is all. Believe me, they'll accept you. Except maybe Viktor, but he's pretty protective when it comes to having new people around. Oh! And whatever you do, do not mention the ship in the cemetery. No one except us three…well four now…know about it."

"Uh…sure," Jon said, his mind filing away that information as important. The less people who know that there was an Ancient designed ship on the planet, the less chance of someone unsavory finding out about it. Although, he was once again filled with doubt on whether or not everything here was on the up and up.

After all, it could be some elaborately planned Goa'uld plot. Those damned snakeheads were always gaining a technological edge, just when they seemed beat; like, Anubis for instance. He shook his head slightly and grinned at Nat. "So, are Clive and Kev gonna be here tonight too?"

"No," she said musingly, "Clive's got practice and Kevin…well he's searching for something to help his brother out."

"Oh?"

She smiled and tugged on his arm again. "You'll know all about it after dinner, I promise."

"Promises, promises," he grumbled back, allowing himself to be once more led down the confusing hallway. The manor had seemed huge on the outside, but now…well apparently appearances could be deceiving because there was no way there could be so many rooms, just in one freakin' corridor.

Just as Jon thought the journey would never come to an end, and he'd be forced to wander an endless hallway endlessly, Natalie came to an abrupt halt, Jon had to backpedal a bit so he didn't run into her, and then steered them through a doorway. Inside was a large oval shaped table with an impressive floral arrangement as the centerpiece. There were four chairs placed around the end closest to the doorway and four table settings to correspond with each chair.

"Strange," Natalie mused as she pushed Jon into one of the chairs, "Viktor's usually here early on these nights. I hope he hasn't got caught up working on the equipment again." As she finished speaking, she flopped down into the chair next to him and gave a world weary sigh. "Either that or Niki's complaining to him about me and how obsessed I am with all we do here. As if he isn't just as obsessed. The only reason she even sees him as an ally is because he's got a degree in some kind of engineering, which actually has nothing to do with what Niki's even going to school for."

Jon blinked. He had never heard the redhead go on so long about anything—granted, Kevin or Clive was usually around to stop her mid-rant…

"So, how come you call her Niki instead of Nicole?"

"Huh?"

Jon rolled his eyes at her blank stare. "And here I thought you were a Holmes wannabe. You said you hated nicknames. But you call your sister Niki instead of Nicole."

"Oh that," Nat waved her hand dismissively, "she's far too immature to deserve to be called anything less than a degrading shortening of her name."

"That, and Natalie has called her 'Niki' since she vas small," a rich, slightly accented baritone intoned from behind them.

Jon turned his head, and then had to turn around completely to make certain he was seeing things right. Sure enough, the man who had spoken was indeed wearing a black leather vest over a 19th century cream silk shirt and black leather pants. If that weren't bad enough, he also wore a full length cloak that was thrown back over a shoulder in an artful manner and his longish brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

"What are you, Dracula?"

The man's blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "Perhaps."

"Oh just sit down Viktor," Niki said, having come in the door just after the vampire-wannabe. To Jon she added, "He isn't always like this, he's just trying to gauge your reaction."

"Pfft! You stay out of conversation; is between myself and…boy," Viktor admonished.

"Ri-ight," Jon interrupted before the impending argument he sensed began, "So, you're trying to make me believe in vampires by dressing in the clichéd way nosferatu have been shown in countless B movies? Puh-lease, even your accent isn't believable."

This earned him yet another jab in the ribs from his new friend. "Ow, will you cut that out? I think you might have broken them…"

"He's Czechoslovakian, Jon," Niki supplied with a wry smile before Nat could blast him with an admonishment, "so the accent is quite real."

Jon looked between the three of them, and then sighed with resignation. "But Viktor isn't your real name, is it?"

"No," the Czech-who-would-be-Dracula, "but even the girls do not know my real name…I feel it is best. But! Before business, we eat!"

A door which previously had not been there opened, and servants in white and gold livery bearing steaming dishes streamed out as soon as the words had been spoken. Vik grinned and sat down on Jon's other side, leaving Niki to sit beside Natalie.

"Well," Jon leaned over to whisper in Nat's ear, "That wasn't so bad…I thought this was the guy we'd really have to convince?"

"You still do," Natalie assured him, "you haven't yet been told everything about us, and if it doesn't work out, you won't remember anything except that you came and had dinner with us. And that you don't ever want to again."

"Right."

Dinner went by without a hitch—and without a word. Apparently it was bad manners to speak while eating a fancy supper, and several times Jon had been jabbed in the ribs. Sheesh. You'd think Nat would tell him before they had dinner. Of course, then she wouldn't be able to satisfy her sadistic need to torture his poor side.

Now the four of them were once more wandering the Endless Corridor, and Jon had the uneasy feeling that this was probably part of the so called 'test', even though Nat had assured him all they were doing was 'meeting the principles'. Nicole and Viktor were only two people, and Jon wondered if there were any more, or if the elder Landers and the Czech were it. It also occurred to Jon that he hadn't met some other important people.

"I know Kevin and Clive's parents 'disappeared'," he began, "but where are yours, Nat?"

"Oh they went out for dinner this evening, since Niki's home," she said loftily, "they haven't had a real break ever since she went off to school." The word school was spat out as if it were a dirty word.

"Is nothing wrong with school," Viktor interjected, before the other redhead could come up with a proper rejoinder, "It is good to expand your horizons, gain as much knowledge as you can. Besides, Nicole is becoming doctor."

"Well goody gumdrops for her," Natalie spat, "and if she were actually going to use that in helping us out, like you do with your degree, then I'd be fine with it. But no, she wants to become a geneticist and go study in Scotland for some obscure reason."

"For one thing, genetics could very well prove to be extremely helpful to this operation. It could tell us why people like Viktor and Clive seem like perfectly normal human beings, and can even pass the most extensive of physicals without making anyone suspicious and yet be what they are. Second of all…"

"What do you mean Clive and Viktor 'seem human'?" Jon demanded, interrupting the fierce response, his heart pounding as it seemed his worst fears had come true. And if the Goa'uld had found a way to make it impossible for anyone to tell they were using human hosts, or worse….

"That's part of what we have to tell you," Niki said, sounding apologetic, "I know, it's all going to sound a bit…odd at first, but Vik will prove that we're not lying. But first, we've got to meet the Board, get their permission."

"You said we already had their permission!" Nat protested, "Otherwise I'd have never brought him here!"

"Precisely," Niki agreed smugly, "His reaction to the manor is an important factor in their decision."

Jon smirked slightly. Well, they weren't that much different that some other bigwigs he'd dealt with in his lifetime. Which had been a long time. He sighed. Really, wasn't he getting too old for this? Nope, in fact, he was once more at the starting gate, waiting to see if he could get out first.

"I have to warn you," he quipped, "I've got this really big problem about pissing these kind of people off."

"Perhaps if you spend time listening instead of talking, this vould not happen," Vik suggested lightly.

"I listen." A bit of mock hurt entered his voice before he continued with, "Just not to boring things like speeches from…"

"Well, here we are!" Natalie jerked his arm before he could continue and pulled him into yet another doorway.

"Okay yeah, this? It's gonna get real old, real fast."

Especially if he was going to be pulled into a completely dark room with absolutely no idea of where he was or if he could get out on his own. Even with Natalie's hand on his arm, he wasn't at all reassured, and still convinced that he had been pulled into the middle of something that was big—something that he could have handled as a fifty year old Air Force col., but as a sixteen year old with the mind of said Air Force Col., he wasn't so sure of himself.

The room began to gradually become lighter, until he could see that they were now in a theatre, complete with stadium style seating. He blinked and glanced at the bespectacled girl beside him.

"Have a seat," she suggested, "the Board will be with us momentarily."

"So, what? We're gonna watch a movie?"

"Sort of," she prevaricated, "The Board will come in, say whether or not they approve of you, and if they do, then…well you'll see."

"I hate surprises," he told her.

"This is a good surprise," Niki said from behind them, giving them both a gentle push, "trust me."

"Don't say that," Viktor said, eyes widening as if she'd said something incredibly terrible, "Every time you do, I manage to get hit over the head somehow!"

"Well, if you'd quit bending over at odd times, that wouldn't happen." Niki huffed and turned her head away, apparently miffed.

"Pfft, I was not bending over when door opened suddenly, or when generator blew up or…"

"Okay okay!" Niki relented, waving her arms wildly "But how is that my…"

Her voice trailed off as one of her hands smacked squarely into Viktor's nose. "That is how," he muttered, clutching his face and sounding nasal, "you open door, you played with my equipment when I expressly told you not to and…"

"Fine, it was all my fault. Now sit down and shut up. The Board's here."

The Board, it turned out was a group of four women and three men, all middle aged. They looked normal, but Jon recalled what Niki had said about Clive and Vik 'seeming human', and had to wonder.