CHAPTER SIX - G, D, A, E
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not; joy delights in joy.
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly?
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.'
Sonnet 8 by William Shakespeare
Two days later, Amelia showed up right on time, violin in hand. As she had warned, though, playing the violin turned out to be a good deal more complicated than it appeared.
"Okay, now—no, you need to lift this arm up a bit."
"Like this?" Jonas asked, lifting his right elbow several inches higher than it had been before. He felt incredibly strange, standing rigid and stiff while Amelia positioned his limbs with precise care. He didn't understand why it mattered what his feet were doing in order to play a violin, but he let her work.
She laughed and shook her head. "Closer, but you went a little too far," she said. She stepped around him, reaching up her hand to pull the offending elbow back down a bit. While she did so, Jonas concentrated on maintaining the peculiar grip on the bow as she'd shown him.
"Are you sure I can play like this? I feel like a statue."
"You'll get used to it," Amelia said offhandedly. She circled him a couple of times, occasionally making small adjustments to his arms and hands before she stepped back at last with a nod of satisfaction. "Okay," she announced. "Remember how this feels. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Jonas replied obediently, giving her a broad smile. "Now what?"
"Now we get to play a note. In order to get the best sound, you want to draw the bow perfectly perpendicular to the strings, most often just over the f-holes. Go ahead, why don't you play a D?"
"D, D..." Jonas muttered. "That would be the second string from the left, the others being G, A, and E, respectively."
"You memorized all those strings so quickly?" Amelia asked in a teasing voice. "Incredible. They weren't kidding about you being a quick learner, were they?"
"Would you be quiet?" Jonas chided, though he couldn't help but smile before raising his eyebrows. "I'm trying to play here," he added, causing her to laugh. Then he furrowed his brow in concentration, tilted the bow ever so slightly so that it rested on the proper string, and pulled it along slowly. He was pleasantly surprised at the result. The sound that issued from the instrument wasn't overly terrible.
"Not bad," Amelia said approvingly, "but you were moving your upper arm too much." She stepped up close beside him, almost behind and placed her hand on top of his where it grasped the bow. Her other hand she rested on his left shoulder for balance. "Keep the motion in your forearm and your wrist," she said quietly as she began pulling the bow again along the string. Her voice was very close to his ear. "It should be a fluid feeling."
"I think I see what you mean," he observed. "Let me give it a try." She obligingly stepped away and he played the note again.
"Better," said Amelia. "Now you're letting the bow drift, though. Keep it straight."
"Are you always this picky?"
"You may as well learn to do it right from the beginning."
She proved to be equally as demanding throughout the remainder off the lesson, in which Jonas progressed to playing notes on all four of the strings. He was disappointed that she didn't teach him any songs or fingering.
"You may not need a break," she insisted, laughing at the pleading look he gave her, "but I do. This teaching thing wears me out. Besides, I have to practice myself sometime."
"You can practice here, if you want," he offered, handing over the violin.
"Don't you have to work?" Amelia asked, looking around the lab with a puzzled expression.
He smiled. "I told you before, I like listening. Just play whatever."
Amelia paused, giving him a shrewd expression, a small smile playing on the corners of her mouth. When he returned it with a much larger grin, she broke it off, laughing and shaking her head. "Oh, fine," she conceded, reaching out to take the instrument from his hands. "But I may just have to torture you with endless scales. We'll see how well you like it then."
Jonas stretched his liberated arms, then took a seat at his table and cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on," he leveled, his eyes full of challenge. It was a phrase he'd picked up from Colonel O'Neill, and he was pretty sure he'd used it correctly. He made a big show of turning away from her and pretending to be ensconced in his work.
After a few minutes of flipping through music—apparently she'd decided against the threatened scales— Amelia settled into a series of simple etudes. As he'd suspected, Jonas found the music incredibly soothing, and before long he was wrapped up in the artifacts before him, paying little heed to the passing time. He was glad he'd talked her into staying, not only because he truly did enjoy the violin, but also because he found her company pleasant and relaxing, even now when they weren't even speaking.
Finally the music stopped, and Amelia gave a strangely sad sigh. Jonas looked up to see her frowning a little at her music. Then she glanced at something on the wall behind him. "Something wrong?" he asked, looking around to see the clock on the wall.
"Just a little tired, that's all," she replied. "I can't play for as long as I used to."
"Because of your illness?"
She nodded. "Yes. I get sick to the stomach a lot. I need to sit down." Her eyes flicked to the table behind him. "What are you working on?"
Jonas reached up and idly scratched behind his ear. "Cataloguing," he said. "I do this quite a bit."
"Need any help?" she asked.
"Help?" Jonas repeated, blinking in surprise. "Do you have experience with archaeology as well as music?"
Amelia rolled her eyes. "No," she said with a smile. "But surely there's some mindless, repetitive task I can help you with? I don't want to go back to my room. I'm bored of it."
"Oh," he said. "Well," he continued, spinning back around to view the array of artifacts before him. "Yeah, actually," he realized, "you could take pictures and help me enter the data in the computer."
"Sounds great," Amelia said eagerly. She began putting her violin away while Jonas pulled the digital camera out of his desk drawer.
"Isn't this thing amazing?" he asked when he handed it to her. "You can see the picture right in the back as soon as you take it."
Amelia gave him an odd look as she accepted it. "It's amazing, all right," she confirmed. "Do they have cameras where you come from?"
"Yes, but nothing like this. Kelowna is about sixty years behind Earth technologically, in your years. Not long ago, our cameras still required a crate to lug around."
"You seem to be really at ease with all our technology, though."
Jonas grinned. "Fast learner, remember?"
"Right. How could I forget?" She rolled her eyes again, which only made him grin harder.
"Well, plus I've been here a while now," he added. With that, he showed her exactly how to photograph each artifact, and how to store and label the pictures after she'd uploaded them into the computer. "Fun, huh?"
"Sure," she agreed.
If anything, the next hour passed even more quickly than had the preceding. Sometimes they worked in comfortable silence, but more often than not they carried on a very pleasant conversation. Amelia told him everything she'd learned about the Goa'uld and the Tok'ra while he'd been gone, which was, surprisingly, a lot more than he'd expected them to tell her. This made him feel a little more comfortable about divulging other sorts of information, so as they worked, Jonas told her stories about the various planets the artifacts had come from, or things that had befallen the team on those planets, or some of his ideas about the cultures that had left them behind. She was a ready listener, a quick observer, and had many interesting questions.
"This is really helpful of you, thanks," he said, when he'd observed how quickly they were getting through the artifacts. "It would have taken me much longer on my own. Of course, we're going offworld again tomorrow, so... with any luck I'll have a whole new load to go through when we get back."
"I didn't realize you were going offworld again so soon," she commented, picking up a photograph of the Ancient obelisk from PX3-651 and studying it with interest.
"Yup," said Jonas. "P9X-391," he said dramatically. "It's one of the planets from the Ancient database that Colonel O'Neill gave us. We usually get pretty excited about those." He held out his hand for the photograph and she passed it over compliantly.
Amelia lifted the camera, took a picture of the Goa'uld head ornament that Jonas was taking notes on, and frowned. "One of the planets that Colonel O'Neill... gave you?" she repeated in confusion.
"Actually, that's a really long story," he said. "One of many before my time."
"It certainly sounds... interesting," she agreed. "Maybe someday you'll be able to tell me about it, hmmn?"
"Maybe."
"What's so special about them?" she asked. "I mean, why do you get excited to go there?"
"Because it's almost a pretty sure thing that these planets are ones that the Goa'uld have never discovered," Jonas said knowingly. "In other words, any technology or useful information we retrieve could be a surprise advantage against them."
"Gotcha."
Jonas looked up at the clock. "Wow," he said amazedly. "Amelia, didn't you say you were due for a checkup with Doctor Fraiser today?"
Amelia's head shot up to study the clock's hands as well. "Shoot!" she cried, setting the camera down on the table and getting up from her chair in one quick motion. She scrambled to the other side of the room towards her violin and music, still lying where she'd left them.
"Hey, don't worry about that. I'll get those for you," he said. "Just go."
Amelia glanced uncertainly between Jonas and the instrument for a moment before nodding. "Thanks. "I'll see you around." Then she dashed off.
Jonas watched the door for a long moment after she'd left, surprised at how empty the room suddenly felt.
Amelia's night began well, but the earliest hours brought discomfort. She recognized it all too well—a painful swelling in her abdomen that signified a fluid buildup. Yet another lovely calling card of liver cancer. Around eight or so, she managed to struggle out of bed and into some clothes, then headed to the infirmary to see if Doctor Fraiser was around to give her some medicine.
While she was in the infirmary, the eternal klaxons signaled an incoming wormhole. She'd just walked out the door, however, nicely medicated, when something new came over the loudspeaker.
"This is Hammond. I want a Class One security lockdown of the base. As of now. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."
In the end, it was probably for the best that she spent the rest of the morning and afternoon asleep in her quarters, because she would have been stuck there anyway. She was still in bed, in fact, when a polite but firm knock finally induced her to rise.
The medication had helped, but it was still awkward to move. She put on a loose robe and answered the door.
"Amelia," said Lieutenant Grogan, nodding slightly from the other side. "I'm sorry to wake you, but the Tok'ra have arrived. Doctor Fraiser wondered if you were up to visiting the infirmary again for a little while."
"Sure," she said. "Just let me get changed. I'll be right there." Before her departure, she took note of the time. Almost three o'clock. She wondered that she'd been able to sleep so long.
Doctor Fraiser and Malek were the first people she saw when she arrived, talking quietly with one another at the foot of one of the infirmary beds.
"I'm here," she said, stepping fully into the room. They both turned around.
"Amelia Kinsey," said Malek politely. "It is good to see you again."
"Malek has returned with encouraging news, Amelia," said Doctor Fraiser. "His refined version of the Tretonin is ready." As she spoke, she gestured behind her, where a nurse was labeling a tray of vials full of a clear, purple-colored liquid.
"We are ready to begin treatment," said Malek. "That is," he added, "provided you are still willing?" He peered at her closely.
Amelia nodded. "Of course."
Doctor Fraiser drew the privacy curtain to allow Amelia to change into a hospital gown. When she'd finished, she sat on one of the beds while Doctor Fraiser began assembling all her monitors. Amelia's eye fell on the nurse who was labeling the Tretonin, and she studied her work with interest. "So this is what it looks like?" she asked, looking at the purple vials.
Malek picked one up and handed it to her. "Yes."
Amelia studied it. "How do I take it?" she asked Doctor Fraiser.
"Intravenously," the doctor replied, and held up a ready I.V.
"Well, that's nothing new," Amelia muttered.
"These are finished, Doctor," the nurse said, putting the last of the Tretonin back on the tray and looking at Doctor Fraiser expectantly.
"Good," said Doctor Fraiser. "Lock them in storage. Sergeant," she added, gesturing to one of two guards who were standing by the door.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
The nurse accepted a key from Doctor Fraiser and carefully picked up the tray. She and her airman escort headed for the door, while Doctor Fraiser returned once more to Amelia. "Now," she said, "as you know, we don't have any precedent for this treatment, so we're going to have to design one systematically. Malek believes we should begin with very small doses, to study the effects and—"
Suddenly, there was a loud scream accompanied by a resounding crash from just outside in the hallway. Amelia jumped a couple of inches, and she, Malek, and Doctor Fraiser turned as one to the door where the nurse and the sergeant had just disappeared. Doctor Fraiser wasted no time rushing forward. "What happened?" she asked. Amelia and Malek followed a bit more calmly in her wake.
"Some kind of slug or something," she heard the nurse say, breathlessly. "It came from nowhere! Scared me to death. Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry!"
Amelia craned her neck to see around Malek, who was a good four inches taller than her. Her eyes widened in horror. The tray had fallen to the concrete floor below. Every vial was smashed, and there was a dark, purple-gray puddle on the floor that was beginning to run in little rivulets further down the hallway. The front of the nurse's formerly immaculate uniform now looked as if it'd been dipped in Easter egg dye.
"I saw it too," the airman said, looking wildly around. "It disappeared again. Went right into the wall there," he pointed. One hand was reflexively gripping his sidearm.
Doctor Fraiser was gingerly trying to avoid crunching on the glass as much as possible. "Come inside, both of you," she said, tugging the nurse's sleeve at the same she warded off Amelia and Malek with a firm gesture. "Let's get you cleaned up and try to figure out what happened."
Amelia retreated once more to her seat on the bed, trying to stay out of the way as Doctor Fraiser called for a medical cleanup over the loudspeaker, then called somewhere else requesting both General Hammond and Major Carter, then bustled about, tending to a few tiny cuts that both the nurse and the sergeant had suffered from the shattering glass.
"It is most unfortunate about the Tretonin," Malek commented, frowning from where he'd been standing at her side.
"It wasn't her fault," Amelia said. "Besides, we still have this one." She held up the single vial helpfully, which she'd still been holding on to.
"I am not blaming Lieutenant Rush," Malek said. Abruptly, Amelia realized that must be the nurse's name. "But the production of Tretonin is not a speedy process. We used many of our resources creating that batch for this experiment. It will take some time to regenerate enough byproducts to create more."
"Oh." Amelia looked less optimistically at the Tretonin in her hand. "Will this help, though?"
"It will help, but to what extent I am unsure. Doctor Fraiser has apprised me of the details of your condition, and it is very severe. I am uncertain how much of an effect this dose of Tretonin will have."
"I guess we'll find out," Amelia said.
Meanwhile, Doctor Fraiser had been further questioning Lieutenant Rush about what she'd seen. "It was a slug," the woman repeated. She seemed much calmer now, and more concerned about having dropped the Tretonin than about seeing weird bugs. "Green, with blue and yellow spots."
"It slithered out of the wall, then glided along the wall toward the floor, diagonally, then disappeared into the wall again," the sergeant added, nodding his confirmation at the nurse's story.
"Sounds kind of like the things Jonas said he was seeing earlier today," Doctor Fraiser muttered, putting her hands on her hips for a moment, looking intent.
"Jonas? What?" Amelia blurted. Doctor Fraiser turned to look at her but didn't get a chance to comment.
General Hammond and the blond woman Amelia had now surmised was the famous Major Carter arrived hurriedly in the infirmary. Just behind them was Jonas.
"General," said Doctor Fraiser in relief, "I'm so glad you're here. We've had an incident. Lieutenant Rush says she saw a—"
"A weird alien bug?" the general finished. He looked over at Major Carter.
"We've been seeing them too," she added, grimly. "First Teal'c and myself, then General Hammond, then the gate technician. The effect seems to be spreading."
"What do we do?" the doctor said. "I've examined Jonas thoroughly. There was nothing physically wrong with him, and I've got a feeling there's nothing physically wrong with the rest of you, either. I'll do exams just to be on the safe side, of course, but—"
"Do it, Doctor," Hammond ordered. "Until we know what we're dealing with, I don't want to overlook any possibility."
"We believe it has something to do with the device we brought back this morning," Jonas said, looking at Major Carter, who nodded her agreement. "We're on our way to study it more closely."
"In the meantime, I'm ordering another lockdown of the base," General Hammond said. He looked over at Malek. "I'm afraid that means you're our guest for a while, Commander. I'm sorry."
"I have never seen a device such as this." Malek leaned around the artifact, peering at it from every angle. "I'm afraid I am as ignorant as you in this case, Major. I do not believe I can be of any assistance."
"We tried removing the crystal core to power down the device, and we tried removing it back to the planet it came from. Neither was effective."
"And you have translated all of this text?" Malek looked at Jonas Quinn. It was he who had determined Egeria's identity on Pangar by translating the writing in her prison.
The man shook his head uncertainly. "As much as I'm able. There's writing on the crystals, too, but it mostly seems to describe the physical type of each crystal. Nothing to give us further insight."
"We'll keep working on it. Thanks all the same, Commander," Major Carter said.
"I only wish I could do more," Malek replied.
He left them, his military escort, as always, quietly shadowing him. He truly did wish he could help them solve the mystery of the artifact, more so that he could return home than anything else. Still, he tried not to complain too much. He'd been as affected by these creatures as anyone else. He certainly did not want the effect spreading to his own people.
Well, it's no less than the Tok'ra did to the Tau'ri during their first encounter, Aledar pointed out.
True.
Unsure what to do with himself, Malek proceeded to the temporary quarters he'd been assigned. The entire day had been frustrating, from his confinement to Earth to the loss of the precious tretonin—he hadn't even gotten a chance to begin Amelia Kinsey's treatment because Doctor Fraiser was caught up dealing with the effects of this crisis.
The elevator was interrupted on its downward journey and the doors opened. Malek wondered, not for the first time, whether the SGC could not be outfitted with a ring transport, but he did not betray his impatience.
At the sight of Amelia Kinsey, he repented his irritation. She smiled when she saw him. "Malek," she greeted, stepping into the elevator.
"Amelia."
She pocketed one of the SGC security cards, a rather tricky business, as the hand was also clutching a rather large brown bag. Her other hand held a medium-sized white container of some kind. "Would you hold this a second?" she asked, and held it out. Amused, he accepted it without comment. "I was just on my way back to my quarters," she continued. "I'm a little hungry, but I'm not feeling up to a crowd, so I got carry-out." She took the white container back from him.
"I am trying to be patient," he said. "Major Carter and Jonas Quinn are attempting to solve the problem, but it may be some time until they determine a solution."
"I hope they solve it soon," Amelia commented, as yet another of the strange creatures— one of the flying variety— buzzed through the elevator above their heads. "These things give me the creeps."
When the doors opened on level twenty-five, Amelia seemed surprised that Malek followed her out. "Are you staying here too?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Are you hungry? The guys at the mess gave me a whole lot more food than I can handle on my own."
Malek had already eaten, but was surprised to find himself answering an affirmative. This was partly because Aledar was quietly but insistently voting against going back to their room with nothing to do, and partly because he found this Tau'ri girl to be pleasant and interesting. Her comments regarding the social mentality of the various worlds on her planet had lingered with him over the past few days, and she had proven consistently kind to him, despite her initial misgivings. "I would be honored," he replied.
"You guys can just wait out here, right?" Amelia asked Malek's escort when she'd gotten her door open.
"Yes, ma'am," replied the soldier. They took up posts on either side of the door.
"Whew," she said after it'd closed behind them, putting her burdens down on a small table. "I hate having those guys hanging around all the time. Always makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong."
"But you do not have an escort," Malek pointed out.
She straightened. "Not now. I did the first couple of days, though. Then they gave me that card that only lets me in the places I'm allowed."
"I see."
"I know it's just protocol," she added, "but it's really difficult to carry on a conversation when you've got... lurkers." She gestured her head back toward the door and rolled her eyes.
Amelia began pulling out various foodstuffs from the bag, including several varieties of fruit, some bread, and some sauces, none of which Malek recognized. He sampled everything she offered him. Aledar was particularly fond of the taste of peanut butter, and he ended up eating nearly all the small supply Amelia brought.
As for Amelia, she ate slowly, mostly sipping on the soup that was in the white sealed container. At her request, he began telling her a little bit about certain planets he'd visited. At one point, Aledar demanded to be allowed to speak of his homeworld.
"Because of the particular conditions of the atmosphere," Aledar said, "the part of the planet where I was born has some of the most spectacular sunrises in the galaxy. There are seven moons, but only two can be seen all year round. They were called the mother and father of Laicha, and the other five moons their children, after which we named our five seasons. But all those stories are from the old days, before Bestet claimed Laicha as part of her dominion. She is bloodthirsty and vicious, but very beautiful and vain. She is often fond of declaring Laicha is hers because something so beautiful should belong to a god by right."
Malek could sense his host's animosity. Very few things upset Aledar as much as speaking about Bestet. It was also rare for him to talk about it to anyone like this, though Malek knew he hadn't intended to be so vocal about it at the outset. He seemed to be picking up on Malek's trust of Amelia Kinsey.
"It's kind of like Manifest Destiny," Amelia finally said thoughtfully.
"Manifest Destiny?" Aledar repeated.
"There was a civilization of humans that lived on this continent before any others. We call them Native Americans. From the time the first European explorers came from across the Atlantic Ocean, the natives were persecuted, forced to flee or hide, their entire way of live thrown into upheaval. Some years later, when America was still a young nation, pushing west, there was a mentality called Manifest Destiny, which basically said there was nothing morally wrong with forcing the natives to give up their lands and culture, because claiming this land was our God-given right." Amelia shook her head sadly. "It's one of the darker aspects of our history."
"The people of Earth believe in gods as well?" Aledar asked, confused.
Amelia smiled softly. "Some of us do. I believe in the same one as many of my people, but we all have different perceptions of him."
Aledar seemed concerned. "If the Goa'uld were ever to overcome your world, it is possible they could use this god against you. They have taken on the persona of many Tau'ri deities in the past."
Amelia said, "I suppose there are a few who might be crazy enough to fall for that, but my people are very skeptical by nature. I have a feeling we'd be a lot harder to fool nowadays. Besides, if all the Goa'uld are as cruel as you claim, they'd have a hard time pulling if off. The Christian god is one of love and mercy. He does not demand loyalty, but wishes people to serve him of their own free will."
"You are right. I do not believe any Goa'uld would be capable of imitating such."
They talked a while longer on various other kinds of topics. Amelia Kinsey gave Malek a perspective on the Tau'ri he hadn't seen before—her ignorance of galactic matters meant she was forced to revert to her own experience. She confessed that her position as a Senator's daughter— a certain kind of leader on this planet—gave her an especially good background in her country's history.
A couple of hours later, a knock resounded on the door and Amelia looked up, surprise on her face. "What time is it?" she murmured to herself, but didn't seem to expect a reply.
Malek stood with her as she went to open the door. Behind it were General Hammond, Major Carter, and Jonas Quinn. "General," she said, sounding genuinely amazed. "Please come in. What—" She trailed off as the General's eyes fell on Malek.
"Excuse me, Miss Kinsey. We were looking for Commander Malek. The airmen outside told us he was here."
"What is it, General?" Malek asked, stepping forward.
"Well, we have some good news and some bad news." General Hammond looked at Major Carter, who stepped forward. "We figured out how to counter the effects of the device. You're permitted to leave the base."
Malek nodded. "That is good news. What of the other?"
Major Carter's expression deepened to one of guilt. "A few hours ago, we got a communiqué for you from the Tok'ra," she said. "Your Hessed base has been compromised. They said to tell you the Tok'ra are evacuating to the new chosen planet and that you'd know where."
"Why was I not told of this sooner?" Malek demanded.
"For security purposes, I'm not allowed to let anyone leave this base under lockdown, via any means," General Hammond said, straightening. "I decided that it would be best not to tell you until the quarantine was lifted."
Warring with Malek's anger was a mourning sense of despair. So many bases in so few years had been compromised. Now Hessed. How long were they to endure this? How many Tok'ra lives had been lost in this time? "I wish to depart immediately, General," he said stiffly, choosing for the moment not to dwell on what he perceived to be a severe lack of courtesy. He turned to Amelia. "Please inform Doctor Fraiser I will return to resume our Tretonin work as soon as I can. It should not take long to reestablish ourselves on the new planet." His voice was dark as he added, "We've become experts."
Amelia and Jonas watched Malek leave with Major Carter and General Hammond. It was clear Malek was very upset. She hoped he would be all right. Alone in the hallway now with Jonas, there was an awkward silence.
"So you solved this bug thing?" she finally asked, remembering Major Carter's words.
"Oh! Yes. Here," he said, and surprised her by reaching down and taking her hand in his. "It ended up having to do with physical contact, which is why we couldn't contain it. But the same method will also reverse the effects, once we get it calibrated correctly." His hand was very warm and clean.
"You've had a busy day," Amelia noted when he released her.
"Yeah," he said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "I can't believe all this started only this morning. And it isn't over yet. We still have to make sure everything's clear outside the base." He made a patient expression. "So I've got to get going."
"Well, thank you," she said. "Let me know when you have time for another lesson." Amelia had found teaching Jonas very agreeable. It was nice to have found a friend here.
He grinned. "Absolutely. General Hammond gave us some leave this morning, but that was before our artifact started creating a crisis."
Amelia laughed. "So after the mop-up work is done?"
"Maybe tomorrow."
"I look forward to it."
A/N: I've tried every effort to make this story stick as close to S6 canon as possible, as Amelia's story weaves in and out of Jonas's episode by episode adventures, but one thing that simply did not work (and those of you who've read the original version will know) was Jonas's flirting with Lt. Rush in the elevator. In this story, the moment simply does not happen. Timing's all wrong. ;-) However, reluctant as I was to disregard what is one of our favorite Kelownan's most endearing moments, I gave the famous Lt. Rush a cameo in this chapter. She even contributed to the plot, as I'm sure is evident! ;-)
And special thanks to Melyannaand Domi Lys, who each typed up a chapter for me. You have them to thank for this speedy update and the next!
Saché
