CHAPTER TWELVE – For the First Time
How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
Sonnet 128 by William Shakespeare
Coinciding gate times could often be a little tricky. The SGC was sending someone to pick Amelia up mid-afternoon Earth time, which translated into the crack of dawn on Enna. She was ready pretty quickly, dressed in Stargate Command BDU's that Jonas had provided along with her other things. The morning was far too chilly for any of her regular clothes.
Malek had been quieter than usual, but he'd made an effort not to withdraw from her, which made her feel less guilty over the previous day's incident. After he'd awakened her and she was packed, he gave her a box containing several vials of Tretonin and instructions for Doctor Fraiser's use in continuing Amelia's treatment. Then they met up with Councilor Kleyon and headed for the stargate. Amelia loved using the ring transporter, which reminded her of the world's shortest and weirdest amusement park ride. The small child in her secretly wished she could do it over and over again, like when she'd gone repeatedly up and down the escalators as a little girl, but since the Tok'ra were not too big on levity, she only laughed at herself and kept quiet.
As soon as the small party had emerged into the gray dawn - flanked by two guards whose names Amelia didn't know - she was immediately grateful for the warm uniform after all. The air had a distinctive chilly bite to it, but Amelia smiled despite her shiver. There was something so thrilling about the moments just before dawn - a subdued sort of anticipation, wherein serenity and excitement could be found hand in hand.
When the Stargate activated, the half-light made the glowing chevrons even more impressive, and the event horizon was so bright in contrast that Amelia was forced to squint. "I hope your time on Enna has been enjoyable, Amelia Kinsey," said Councilor Kleyon. "From what Commander Malek tells me, your success with the Tretonin is a great source of hope for both our peoples."
"I'm glad, Councilor," Amelia replied. "Thank you for your hospitality."
They watched the event horizon expectantly. A moment later, a figure stepped through, and Amelia's face broke into a wide smile when she saw that it was Jonas. She certainly hadn't expected to see him come to get her. "Jonas!" she greeted, a little more exuberantly than she'd intended.
Jonas's eyes found Amelia as he descended the steps, and he instantly returned her smile in kind. "Amelia," he said. "General Hammond thought you might like to see a familiar face. I'm afraid I was the best on hand."
"I'm glad you came."
"It's good to see you back on your feet. You really had me worried."
"Well, thanks to Malek here, I'm finally on the road to complete recovery," Amelia said, turning to her Tok'ra companions with a friendly smile.
"Councilor, Malek," Jonas greeted, nodding his head at each of the Tok'ra in turn. He reached into his pocket and produced a small disk. "Here are the new iris codes, as promised. They've already been programmed in."
Councilor Kleyon accepted the disk. "Thank you," she said formally. As Malek had explained to Amelia, almost every month the iris codes for the Tok'ra were updated, just as with all SG teams for security purposes. This was the reason Amelia was being picked up instead of accompanying the Tok'ra directly back to Earth.
"Can I get that for you?" Jonas asked, nodding at Amelia's bag. She handed it to him obligingly, and he slung it over his shoulder. Her violin was in the other hand. "You ready?" he asked.
Amelia nodded. "Yes." She turned back to the Tok'ra. "Thank you again," she said earnestly to Malek as Jonas began dialing the Stargate. "For everything."
He nodded his head solemnly. "I trust we will meet again soon, Amelia."
"I trust so as well. And Aledar, keep out of trouble," she added, raising her voice with a smile.
To her immense satisfaction, the smallest of smirks cracked Malek's stern features. "He says the same to you."
"Goodbye, Councilor," Amelia said to Kleyon. Then, with a shaky sigh, she picked up her violin case and turned around to face the Stargate. She and Jonas mounted the stairs together, side by side, and Amelia paused at the top. She looked sidelong at Jonas with a nervous smile. "Technically, this isn't the first time I've done this," she said, "but it sure feels like it."
Jonas finished entering his iris code before looking up admiringly at the event horizon. "Never gets old," he agreed with a nod. He looked back at her. Then, with an encouraging smile he held out his right hand. Amelia's stomach gave a flutter, and she tentatively accepted it, offering a shy smile of her own in return. Wordlessly, they stepped through the gate together.
"It's just incredible."
Amelia sat on the infirmary bed, her legs dangling over the sides, her sweater draped over her lap. "What?" she asked leaning forward to peer at the test results Doctor Fraiser was flipping through.
The doctor shook her head in amazement. "All traces of the cancer are completely eradicated. I mean, I know that was the idea, but it's still unbelievable."
"So I'm going to have to get a Tretonin shot every day for the next...four weeks?" Amelia asked.
Doctor Fraiser nodded. "And then every other day for four weeks after that and so on. We'll have to keep you close on hand for a while yet, I'm afraid, just to make sure there are no unforeseen complications."
"Thank you for all your help, Doctor."
The doctor smiled kindly. "I'm just glad you're getting better. You gave us quite a scare there, for awhile. I tried to scold Jonas for letting you play ping-pong, of all things—" here the doctor paused to raise her eyebrows disapprovingly at Amelia "—but he looked so wretched that I didn't have the heart to really chew him out."
"It was my fault, really," Amelia said, wincing.
"Well," said the doctor curtly, closing the file and laying it aside, "it's over now." She peered at Amelia for a moment, head cocked. "You know, he was in here almost every day when you were unconscious. I had trouble keeping him out from underfoot, to be honest." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully before gathering together a stack of paperwork. "You're free to go now. I'll see you in the morning at oh-nine-hundred hours." She turned, heading for her office, leaving a mystified Amelia in her wake.
Still pondering the meaning of Doctor Fraiser's cryptic words, Amelia headed down a few levels, bypassing her quarters in favor of level twenty-seven. "Is it possible I might speak with General Hammond?" she asked the guard who met her off the elevator. The guard nodded silently and headed off, and Amelia waited patiently in place until he returned, telling her it was okay to go in.
The General's office was small, but tastefully furnished. The only other time Amelia had seen it was on her initial tour of the base with Lieutenant Grogan. "Miss Kinsey," he said, getting to his feet with a smile to shake her hand. "It's good to see you on your feet. You're looking very well."
"Thank you, General."
"What can I do for you?"
"How often have you been in contact with my father? I should probably call and let him know how things are going."
Hammond nodded. "He or one of his aides usually calls once or twice a day."
"I'd like to call him myself, sir, but I don't know your security policy on this kind of thing. It's not like I'd be calling to order a pizza or something, you know?"
"Understood. Please, help yourself," he replied, holding out a hand to the phone on his desk.
"Thank you, sir," she said, picking it up tentatively. "I appreciate it." The number she dialed was private, given to those who needed to reach her father quickly.
"Coleman," answered a voice on the other end after a ring and a half.
"Jerry, it's Amelia," she said immediately. "Is my dad there?"
"He's getting ready to go into a committee meeting, Miss Kinsey. Can you call back later?"
"I think he'll want to talk to me. Just let him know who it is."
Her father's aide sighed audibly from the other end. "Very well," he said with forced patience. Amelia rolled her eyes.
A moment later her father answered. "Amelia?"
"Hi, dad."
"I thought you were… away," he said curiously. She could hear the lingering annoyance in his voice, and remembered what Malek had said about her father's resistance to sending her offworld.
"I was, but I'm back now," she said carefully. "Everything seems to be taken care of, but I'll be here for a few more weeks yet. Maybe a couple of months at the most."
He was silent a moment. "And the treatments are going well?" The question was stiff. Amelia idly wondered how much her father's staff new about her whereabouts. Likely they'd been fed the line about medical research like she at the beginning.
"Very well. I'm in good hands, dad. You can stop harassing the people here. I'll call you with updates."
"Very well. I have to go."
"Okay. Say hi to mom for me."
"Goodbye, Amelia." She heard the sounds of the connection being cut short and she pulled the receiver from her ear, making a face at it. Then she smiled weakly at the General. "Well, maybe that will give you a break for a week or so," she told him with a pointed expression.
The General gave the smallest of knowing smiles. "I can't imagine what you mean, Miss Kinsey," he said, holding out a hand politely to the door. "I'm going to be heading home for the day, so if you'll excuse me...?"
She nodded her head in thanks. Again, General, I appreciate it," she said as she headed out. "Have good evening. Now that she'd finished the tedious task of calling her father she was feeling more cheerful. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around once more. "Oh, General?"
"Yes?"
"Now that I'm feeling better..." she paused, unsure if what she was asking was too petty, "—am I allowed to leave the base? I mean just for the afternoon or something? I thought I might like to go buy some books and movies and stuff. I've got a lot of time to kill."
Hammond looked surprised. "I never thought of it," he said. "I don't see why not. I'll see what I can do for you tomorrow, if I can."
She smiled. "Okay, thanks."
She headed back to her quarters. Around the SGC, evening had always been a strange time of day. Although there was still the chance that Earth would have unexpected visitors at any hour, for the most part things were quieter. Most of the staff went home, including General Hammond. The kitchens were closed and the hallways were much less crowded.
But Jonas would still be here, as would Teal'c. She realized it must have been more than difficult to be confined here every single day. It was kind of ironic, really - as a member of SG-1, Jonas had access to the whole universe, practically, but he couldn't step out the front door of Cheyenne Mountain. No wonder he'd been so desperate for violin lessons.
Once again Doctor Fraiser's words floated through her thoughts as she headed towards her quarters. Why would she have made such a pointed effort to tell Amelia of Jonas's concern? She had to confess, the thought of it made her smile like a silly teenager, and she hugged her sweater closer to her body, giving a small skip as she exited the elevator. Was it possible he felt more than just a friendly concern?
The thought made for a lovely daydream, and she found herself hoping - for completely capricious and selfish reasons - that her duration at Stargate command would be longer rather than brief. She hurried her footsteps - she had a lesson to give soon and she was anxious to get there.
Jonas fiddled with his pen and stared at his notes, though he wasn't really retaining them. He looked up at the clock for the third time in five minutes. Amelia would be arriving soon. Restlessly, he glanced around the cluttered office and wondered if he should make an attempt to straighten it up a little. Then he wondered why he thought it was important. If he wanted to impress Amelia with a neat lab, it was a little too late for that.
He shut his notebook with authority and dropped the pen in his pencil holder, then spun slowly in his seat and ran his hands through his hair. Abruptly, he remembered that Amelia's violin books were still here somewhere under the small mountain of research notes, and he began searching for them. It took a minute to find them in the clutter. He was just picking them up and putting them in a neat pile when he heard light, quick footsteps outside his door.
Amelia breezed around the corner into the lab, violin in hand. "Hi," she said brightly. She was dressed in a graceful, knee-length skirt and white blouse, which caught him slightly off guard- especially considering the last thing he'd seen her were BDUs. She paused in the doorway to kick off her shoes.
Jonas couldn't help but return her smile. Since her return from Enna that afternoon, there had been en unmistakable spark of vigor in Amelia that hadn't been there before. "Hi yourself," he replied. He held out the books. "You left these here last time."
She accepted them smoothly. "Oh, good, thanks. We'll probably still need them." She handed him the violin case in exchange.
"How did your appointment with Doctor Fraiser go?" he asked, setting the case on the lab table.
"Excellently," Amelia said with a satisfied smile. "The cancer looks to be all gone. I still have to take Tretonin for awhile, though, but I don't mind. Are you ready to get started?"
"Yes," he said with enthusiasm, turning back to the violin case to open it. Noticing a zipper pouch on the top of he'd never paid attention before, Jonas opened it curiously and pulled out several pieces of sheet music. He flipped through them quickly, taking note of all the pieces he was familiar with from his extensive radio experience. His eyes fell on the Mozart that Amelia had been playing the first day he'd met her and his eyes lit up.
Jonas turned around. Amelia was intently concentrating on reassembling the music stand she'd somehow found amongst the things cramming his shelves. As soon as she'd finished, he stepped up behind and set the piece carefully on top of it. "Play this one," he said.
Amelia looked at him curiously. "What about your lesson?"
"We can still have a lesson, but I wanted to hear you play the second movement."
"Everybody likes the second movement best," she said with a laugh.
"And with good reason," he argued mildly with soft smile. "Please?" he asked. He reached over her shoulder and began flipping through the music until he reached the right place.
Amelia turned her head slightly and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, she said at last. Eagerly, Jonas retrieved the instrument and handed it to her, whereupon she instantly poked him playfully in the arm with the tip of the bow. "But afterwards we are practicing, agreed?"
He grinned. "Agreed." He sat down in his chair, settled into a relaxed slouch, and crossed his arms.
"I don't see how you can appreciate this without the orchestration," she commented as she fitted the violin to her chin. "It just isn't the same."
"Oh, I think I'll like it just fine," he said.
She proceeded to play, the sweet sound filling the corners of the lab, and Jonas wondered if Amelia had any idea just how much he appreciated the performance. The rest of the base - heck, the rest of the universe - didn't seem to exist for Amelia when she played. He noticed that she hardly needed to bother with the music. Clearly, she'd played it often enough to have it set to her heart. Most of the time her eyes were closed. He was often tempted to follow suit, but couldn't tear his gaze from her slender fingers, or the confident tilt of her arms, or the intense, enraptured concentration on her face as her eyes moved behind closed lids, seeing the world through melody.
"That," he said enthusiastically when she finally lowered her arms, "was fantastic."
She gave a satisfied sigh. "Thanks. Now it's your turn. No more distractions!"
If Amelia thought anything was peculiar about the way Jonas managed to zip through all the pieces in her primer books with minimal instruction, she did not at first comment. He found there was still much he didn't know - some of the finer points of fingering, for example - but the thing that made Jonas such an adept learner was that he never had to be taught something twice, and once he had a foundational grasp of anything new, his mind was often able to jump ahead and piece together the more complicated aspects on his own. Music and violin technique were the same as anything else - there was order and structure. There were patterns that Jonas was able to see and project. As such, the more Amelia showed him, the faster he was able to progress, even in the short space of time in which they worked. It also didn't hurt that he'd been studying musical theory independently in the past three weeks.
"Okay," she said at last, tossing the primer aside. "Forget that. Let's move up a notch, mostly because I'm a little curious about what you can actually do. You're like freak of nature." Jonas caught her eye sharply and she laughed. "Sorry. I meant in a good way." She pulled out another piece. "This is a Pupil's Concerto. I first played it when I was about eight."
"I can see the, uh, scribbling remains consistent," Jonas said. The margins were full of notes and spidery handwriting. There was also a colorful sticker at the top of the piece, of a jack-o-lantern smiling and wearing earmuffs.
Amelia made a face. "That's not my handwriting," she said. "My second violin teacher was the most nitpicky man I've ever known in my life. Now, this piece is written in the key of—"
"D," said Jonas, nodding. Amelia paused and looked at him with raised eyebrows, and he pointed to the page. "Two sharps, F and C," he said. "This movement is written in 'common' or 4/4 time. 'Allegro moderato' is Italian for moderately fast." He flipped the page. "This movement, on the other hand, is written with a waltz tempo in the key of F, and is to be played 'andante cantabile' - that is to say—" he paused to consider his choice of words, "—play it like you're singing it," he finished awkwardly.
Amelia threw up her hands. "Holy cow, Jonas, what were you doing when I was away?"
He frowned slightly and shook his head in confusion. "What?" he asked. "I just did a little reading, that's all." Amelia rubbed her nose, and her shoulders began to shake with silent laughter. Jonas only frowned further. "What?" he asked again.
"Nothing," she said, still laughing. She reached over and turned the piece back to the beginning. "You are just the easiest student I've ever had, that's all."
Jonas gave her an odd look. "I thought I was your only student."
She smirked. "Okay, fine. But even if you weren't, you'd still be my favorite."
"Why?"
"Because...I'm biased." She caught his eye with a sidelong glance, then fixed her own eyes a little too deliberately back on the music. It was clear she wasn't really seeing it.
A slow realization began to spread through Jonas. "And is there any particular reason you're biased?" he asked carefully, his eyes not leaving her face.
She still did not look at him first, but her cheeks flushed slightly pink. "Maybe," she said lightly, her eyes sparkling and her mouth curving almost reluctantly into an embarrassed smile. Her breathing was noticeably quicker. When she finally worked up the courage to meet his gaze, he saw in her eyes several things - nervousness, courage, and an unspoken invitation.
"Then maybe," he replied slowly, taking in her hopeful features, "you're my favorite teacher, too."
He leaned down a little and touched his lips to hers - lightly at first, almost tentatively, hoping he wasn't completely mistaken in his initiative. He pulled away after the briefest of contact, lingering close to her mouth until he realized that her eyes were still closed and that she seemed neither surprised nor resistant. Then he kissed her again, more confidently this time, closing his own eyes and enjoying the sudden, blissful timelessness of the moment. Amelia was like a breath of fresh air - she had been, he realized, since the day she'd first come here - and her kiss was sweet and wholesome. It was different from anything he'd ever experienced of this sort before, and he found he quite preferred it.
He broke off gently and rested his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes. "I thought you said no distractions," he murmured lowly, teasing.
Amelia blushed bright red and hid her face in his shoulder for a moment. Then she pulled back and looked at him, still red, but she was laughing. "I know," she said. "I guess I need to work on my willpower."
Finding that the violin and bow were still in his hands, Jonas set them carefully on the table and turned back to Amelia. "Me too," he said, and cupped his hands around her face. Amelia slid her arms around his neck and soon the rest of the world seemed to slip away again, with an intensity even stronger than that of a Mozart violin concerto.
"Anyway, so there we were, dead-smack in the middle of this trade negotiation," said Jonas, holding his hand up for emphasis, "and I really should have been suspicious, because Colonel O'Neill was letting me do way more talking than he usually does. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. It was me who eventually reached the final agreement with their leader, Alekos, whereupon he tells me that the traditional way to seal a bargain on their planet is by performing a ceremonial dance."
"Oh no," said Amelia, looking up at him from her vantage point. Jonas really hoped Colonel O'Neill didn't make any surprise appearances, because once he and Amelia had come up for air, they'd abandoned violin lessons in lieu of conversation on the rec room sofa, and had somehow ended up in the exact same configuration they'd been so awkwardly found in several weeks ago. Jonas found it very comfortable. And yes, he decided, reflecting on his conversation with Sam, cozy was a good word to describe it.
"I'm guessing this ceremonial dance wasn't very dignified," Amelia continued.
"Ah...no," Jonas agreed. "I think on Earth you call it the Chicken Dance."
Amelia burst into uncontrollable laughter and clapped her hands. "Poor Jonas!" she said, when she managed to catch a breath.
"Yeah, you seem so sympathetic," he said, rolling his eyes with a smile.
"No, really, I am," she said when she finally managed to calm down, though her eyes still full of unabashed mirth. She shifted slightly and raised her eyebrows. "So just how did these Argosians know the Chicken Dance?"
"They were in on it!" he said exasperatedly, causing Amelia to start laughing again.
"Argos has been friends with Earth since almost the beginning of the Stargate program. Colonel O'Neill has a lot of friends there."
"So was the trade agreement a fluke, too?" she asked, biting back another giggle.
"No, but it was pre-determined. Colonel O'Neill practically scripted what I was supposed to say, and he had the Argosians leader all prepped. Truth be told, we didn't even need to be there. There are other SG teams that usually handle these kinds of long-term follow-up visits, but the Argosians specifically requested SG-1 because they wanted to visit." He sobered, growing thoughtful. "They really missed Doctor Jackson," he said. "One of them is even named after him."
Amelia smiled in sympathy and took his right hand in her own, matching her fingers up to his and then threading them together, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Earlier, he'd told her the whole story of what had happened on Kelowna, and the circumstances surrounding Doctor Jackson's death. "He sounds like he was a great man," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Jonas replied.
The heavy, pensive silence stretched a few moments, but it was not uncomfortable. Amelia seemed to understand that this issue was not one Jonas was able to talk about easily, so she did not push. Finally, she pulled her hand out of his again, then peered more closely at the gold and black ring on his middle finger. "What's this?" she asked him curiously.
"It was a gift from a friend," he said.
She shifted slightly and tilted her head to peer up at him again. "A lady friend?" she asked mischievously.
"No," said Jonas, laughing. "A mentor," he said a moment later. "Back on Kelowna." He gazed at the ring thoughtfully, wondering how Doctor Kieran was doing, and if he should tell Amelia about him. The former scientist was still being held in a special hospital here on Earth, but his health was increasingly poor. Jonas had not been able to visit him for sometime, as he always needed someone to go with him. "It was a congratulatory gift when I graduated from the University."
"Hmmm," she said. "It does look rather scholarly, now you mention it. I like it."
Jonas glanced at his watch. It was nearly oh-three-hundred hours in the morning. "We should probably get to bed," he observed.
Amelia sighed. "Yeah," she said regretfully. "Probably. I have a doctor's appointment in the morning." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not tired, though. I think I'm still on Enna time."
"Well, if you're not too tired in the morning, want to help me out with something?"
Amelia twisted around and sat up, looking curious. "What is it?"
"I've been doing a lot of work with those ancient devices I showed you. Remember, the musical instrument?"
"Yes."
"I think I've determined how to match the colors and the tempos, but I'd like your input. Plus there's a lot of it that needs transcribed, and I really think if someone besides me takes the time to learn how to read the device, it'll go a lot more quickly. The more data we have, the sooner we'll be able to gain access to the Ancients' facility. I'm afraid if it takes too long some overeager military figure might advise we try blasting our way in instead."
"I would love to, Jonas. When can we get started?"
He grinned. "Just come find me after your appointment."
"Okay," she replied. "Jonas," she added as they both got to their feet. "Do you think General Hammond would let you leave the base if you were with me?" she asked, turning back to face him. "He said maybe I could leave to go shopping soon. I wanted to buy some new books to read. Have you ever been to a movie theater?"
"No, I haven't."
"Well, then I'd really like to take you. But do you think he would?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. I doubt it, but it can't hurt to ask, right?"
"Right," she said, nodding with authority. Then she gave him a coquettish smile. "Want to walk me to my door?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "It's tradition here."
"Mmmn," he said, leaning forward and kissing her slowly. "Seems Kelowna and Earth share a lot of good traditions," he said when he pulled away.
"Cool," Amelia murmured in reply.
A/N: Ah…mush. ;-)
Next chapter resumes our obelisk/ music/ kaleidoscope discoveries.
Oh, incidentally, everyone extend a big general round of applause for Domi Lys, who's basically taken over the typing of these chapters for me. She's been a huge help. I can't even begin to thank her.
Cheers!
Saché
