Chapter 1

"Connor, wake up!"

Connor jerked awake, blinking in disorientation. "What?"

"We got a call. Are you all right? I've been calling you for ages."

"Yeah, yeah." He pushed up on one elbow, rubbing his face. That wasn't like him; since their year away, he'd been quick to wake when Abby wanted him. "What time is it?"

"Nearly six. Becker's sending a car around, we won't have to drive, but you need to get up." Abby sat on the edge of the bed, folding one leg under herself, and studied him. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Connor processed the question slowly. He couldn't seem to shake the sleep away. "I had a really weird dream," he said finally.

"Weirder than our lives?"

"Heh. S'pose not." He caught her arm, tugging her in for a quick kiss.

Abby pushed him away after a minute, grinning. "Come on. Car'll be here."

"Spoilsport. I was enjoying that."

"Later." She stood, heading out of the room.

"That a promise?" he called after her.

"Get up!" floated back, and he grinned.

When the car arrived, twenty minutes later, he was ready. The driver passed out black boxes and earpieces and Connor logged on, talking quietly with Jess about what the readings said and what they were expecting.

When he finished Abby shifted. Probably bored, he thought fondly. "Tell me about this dream, then."

"Yeah?"

"Well, if it was so weird."

"It wasn't...it was just unusual."

"Go on, then. Surprise me."

He grinned, thinking. "I was sitting in a diner," he started.

"That is weird. When were you last in a diner?"

"I know. And this man was sitting opposite me. Nice guy, sort of blond, pretty intense."

"Should I be jealous?" Abby asked as seriously as she could manage.

"You're funny, you know that?"

"I know, 's my best quality."

"One of your many."

"Go on. Guy sitting opposite you."

"Yeah." Connor rubbed his face. "So he looks at me, really intent, and says You have to trust them."

"Have to trust who?"

"That's what I said. And he says something like, They'll look suspicious but you have to trust them. It's so important. And then he puts down a plate of waffles and walks away. And then you woke me up."

"That is weird," Abby agreed thoughtfully. "Connor, it's almost as if..."

"What? What?"

"Well, it's almost as if you've been watching too much sci fi, but that can't possibly yargh!" she laughed, pushing him off. "Get off, Conn."

"We're almost there," the driver called back, and she pushed at Connor again.

"There, see? We're almost there. Try and think professional thoughts."

"You are cruel," Connor told her, but he was smiling when the car pulled up outside an old warehouse.

Becker met them at the door. "Abby, sorry, there's another Anomaly and Matt wants you over there; they've had an Incursion and he wants your opinion on the animals. The car'll take you. I need Connor here, we're having trouble with the locking mechanism."

"Sure." Abby squeezed Connor's hand, turning back to the car.

"Bye," Connor said rather forlornly, following Becker into the warehouse. The Anomaly spun gently in the middle of the floor; Connor crossed to the locking mechanism, touching it lightly, automatically looking for problems. "What's wrong?"

"That's your department," Becker told him. "We hit the button, nothing happens. There's nothing obvious wrong with it, we tried all the basic things."

"Right." Connor started checking the wires and connections, murmuring under his breath. Becker waited patiently, standing a few steps back and half watching him.

"Sir!" one of the soldiers called suddenly. Becker looked up, taking three quick steps to get around Connor.

"Keep working on that," he ordered without looking back. Connor breathed an agreement, working quickly; around Becker the EMDs were powering up.

The Anomaly bulged, spun a little faster, and four dark figures stumbled through.

Sometimes Jack woke up and just knew it was going to be a bad day. Sometimes he woke up and thought it could be a pretty good day. Sometimes he was right. Sometimes he was wrong.

He'd been hoping for a quiet day today.

"Run! Move it! Jonas, come on!"

Teal'c was firing steadily, trying to keep their pursuers from getting a clear shot. Jack shoved Jonas towards the DHD and turned, drawing aim and shooting quickly. Carter was somewhere to his left, firing sporadically as people moved in and out of her range.

With the tiny part of his brain not engaged in the fight, Jack wondered if he should be worried that he couldn't even remember why these guys were shooting at them. It seemed to happen so often lately that each time blended into the ones around it.

"Got it!" Jonas called, fiddling with his GDO.

"Go through!" Jack ordered, making another shot. "Carter!"

Carter stopped firing, catching Jonas' arm and hustling him through. Jack backed towards the 'Gate, waiting for Teal'c to join him before turning and diving through.

He almost crashed into Carter's back; she was standing just in front of the event horizon, gun up and aimed steadily. Jack automatically lifted his before he'd even registered what was going on. Teal'c staff hummed gently behind him.

They weren't in the SGC. It looked like a warehouse of some kind, and they were surrounded by – Jack ran an eye over the uniforms – poor man's version of an army, looked like. A lot of guns and kevlar, anyway. He bumped Carter's shoulder lightly, knowing she'd recognise the implied question; what the hell had happened to leave them here?

"No idea, sir," she said tightly.

"Lower your weapons at once," the leader of the soldiers ordered, taking half a step forward. British accent, Jack noted absently - where these special ops? They weren't wearing insignia, any of them, but he was probably a lieutenant judging by his age. Jack ignored him, half turning to look back at the 'Gate.

It wasn't a 'Gate. Shimmering light hung in the air, almost like shards of glass, shining and moving gently. "What the hell..." he breathed, taking a step towards it.

"Stop right there! Lower your weapons!"

"Half a second, Junior," he said absently, still studying it. "Carter, you seen this?"

"Can't really turn around right now, sir."

"Got it," someone announced from behind the soldier. The light shuddered, retracting into a tight ball.

"Hey!" Jack snapped, turning back around. He slid between Jonas and Carter, sensing the younger man drift back to join Teal'c behind them.

The soldier took another step forward. "Stop there. Sir." His gun – odd guns, Jack didn't recognise the design – was aimed unerringly at Jack.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, gesturing over his shoulder.

A dark haired man appeared beside the soldier; he was holding a gun, but it dangled loosely from one hand, and Jack mentally classified him as a tech. "They're contemporary," he murmured, eyes flicking across the team. "Didn't anyone run the calculator?"

The soldier caught his arm when he tried to step forward. "Stay in the line, Temple," he growled.

"I could open it again," Temple offered.

"You know the rules."

"The rules don't apply, they're already from the other side!" North England somewhere, Jack thought, judging by the accent; he'd known some British soldiers, but not enough to pin the accent any closer than that. The soldier was all upper class RP.

"No one goes through," the soldier insisted.

Temple rolled his eyes, turning to look at Jack. "Can you go back? If we open it up again?"

"Wasn't too healthy on that side."

"Thought not." He looked over the group again. "Leave anyone behind?"

"No. It's just us. Where are we?"

"What year is it?" the soldier interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Jack protested.

"Ditto," Temple agreed.

"They don't recognise it," the soldier said directly to Temple, who blinked and then frowned. "What year is it?" he repeated, looking at Jack. "It's important, sir. The date."

"It's two thousand two. March." Jack thought for a moment, unable to remember the exact date. They'd been on the mission for two solar days, but the days were about thirty hours and he couldn't do the math off the top of his head. "Carter..."

She reeled off the date; Temple and the soldier were sharing uncomfortable looks. "What is it?" Jack demanded.

"Yeah. That's...not exactly the date," Temple said slowly.

"Yes it is," Carter protested.

"No. Sorry. Isn't."

"Where's Matt?" the soldier demanded abruptly.

"How should I know? Not his keeper, and you talked to him last." The soldier managed to glare without actually looking at him, and Temple sighed, reaching up to tap his earpiece. "Matt? We've got a near contemporary incursion. Where are you?...uh. Right. No, we're fine, they're not hostile."

"Yet," the soldier muttered.

"Will you give it a rest?" Temple demanded.

Jack shifted. "Look, Lieutenant..."

"Captain," Temple corrected him.

"Retired," the soldier said over him.

"What?" Temple protested. "When did that happen?"

"While you were – away." Jack caught the hesitation; 'away' was clearly a code word for something else.

Temple blinked. "No one told me. How come you still get to boss me around?"

The soldier very nearly looked away from them at that. Jack gave him grudging points for focus. "Because I outrank you. Please just...no," he added in a different tone, head tilting slightly towards the earpiece he was wearing. "American spec ops of some kind. I don't recognise the patch." Jack glanced automatically at his own shoulder and his SGC patch.

"What makes you think we're special ops?" Carter asked curiously.

The soldier's smile was completely devoid of humour. "I was a captain, Ma'am, and I'm not out of touch. I know field gear when I see it."

"This is ridiculous," Temple announced suddenly. Jack watched as he strode away from the group towards the vehicles. The soldiers moved to let him pass without breaking formation; one shadowed him silently on a barely perceptible hand motion from Not-a-Captain.

Jack frowned as his hazy view of the dynamics of this group was flipped. They were protecting Temple just as much as they were protecting the wormhole. He wasn't ancillary staff, he wasn't even just a tech; he was the whole point.

Beside him Carter shifted as she figured it out too, but before she could say anything Temple was back. He was carrying a large plastic crate; he stepped deliberately in front of Not-a-Captain, ignoring the hiss of anger as his sightlines were blocked, and pushed it towards Jack. He flipped up the lid, showing that it was empty.

"I've got one just like that at home," Jack told him, mostly to see what would happen. He couldn't get a read on him yet.

Temple smiled. "You should see my place. I just moved and I swear everything I own is in one of these."

"Temple, get back here!" He twitched, doing his best to ignore the yelling from Not-a-Captain – his bodyguard, presumably. Jack watched the way Temple stood; he was deliberately too close to them for his people to reach without breaking formation, but he was far enough from Jack that they couldn't reach him either. He still had his gun, hung awkwardly from one arm, and he'd have time to get to it if Jack or Carter made a move. He might not have been a soldier, but he'd obviously been hanging around them long enough to pick up some things.

"What are we doing with this one?" Jack asked, toeing the crate.

Temple straightened, suddenly much more serious. "Put your weapons in. Put the lid down, and one of you sit on it all the time. Our guys will disarm – or, at least, they'll stop pointing them at you, I can't promise Becker'll actually put his guns away – and maybe we can actually start talking about this."

"They'll disarm on your word?" Jack asked to be sure. Temple definitely had some influence here, but if they didn't disarm his team would be at a serious disadvantage.

"If they don't," Temple said carefully, "I'll stand with you until you can rearm."

"And that'll help?"

He grinned. "Becker's not supposed to shoot at me. Ruins his rating, and Lester'll be sarcastic at him."

Jack nodded sharply, filing away the mention of Lester – from the context, someone above Not-a-Captain. "Tell them what we're doing, then." He half turned to talk to his team.

There was a lot of arguing, mostly from Not-a-Captain Becker, but Temple kept his word and stood with Jack's team until Becker gave up and agreed. As Temple had suggested, Becker didn't disarm completely, but he kept his handgun in the holster, at least. Jack was relatively happy about that, since no one had thought to take Teal'c's staff so at least he was still armed. They had put the zats in the box, since they were quite obviously weapons, and Temple waited until Jack sat on it before moving away.

"Right," Temple said, turning back from watching the other soldiers withdraw. They didn't go far, but Jack didn't blame them; he wouldn't have either, and at least they had relative privacy now. Becker, though, was still standing at Temple's shoulder, glaring at them. "Let's start over. Connor Temple, pleased to meet you. This is Becker."

"Just Becker? No first name?"

"H -"

"Just Becker," Becker said over whatever Connor was saying.

Jack glanced at Sam, raising an eyebrow, and she shrugged in response. "Colonel Jack O'Neill," he said, turning back to Connor and Becker. "Major Carter, Jonas Quinn, and Murray at the back there."

"I like the..." Connor gestured near his forehead. "Quite cool. Does it mean something?"

"No," Carter said quickly before Teal'c could answer.

"Right," Connor agreed, glancing at Becker. "So. You're..."

"Air Force," Becker supplied. "At least, the Colonel and Major are."

Jonas half lifted a hand. "Civilian contractor."

Becker raised an eyebrow. "Running from a fight." Jack glared, and he added "In full field gear."

"So two thousand two," Connor said brightly, and not at all subtly. "That must be cool."

"What year is it now?" Jack asked.

Connor looked at Becker again before reluctantly saying, "It's twenty twelve."

Jack rounded on Carter. "Ten years?"

"I don't know, sir." To Connor, she added, "When exactly?"

"And where are we?" Jack added.

Connor reeled off the date. "You're in England," he added.

"Couldn't have guessed," Jack muttered. "No chance of anything more specific?"

"Really rather not until we get the boss on the line," he said apologetically.

"Where is he?" Becker muttered, tapping his earpiece. "Matt..."

A blonde woman skidded past the soldiers, coming to a cautious halt before approaching them. "Connor?"

"Hey, Abby. C'mere." He waved her closer. "Abby Maitland, meet our incursion ...ists. Incursionists. Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, Jonas Quinn, Murray."

"Wow. Cool..." She gestured to her forehead.

"Thank you," Teal'c said solemnly.

"Do you know where Matt is?" Becker demanded.

"And we're sort of on a cease fire, so can you pass your EMD back to someone?" Connor added. Jack filed away 'EMD'; it wasn't a weapon type he recognised.

Abby glanced at her weapon, whistled to one of the soldiers and tossed it across. "Matt's on his way. There was a hold up and he and Emily got stuck."

"Bet they did," Connor agreed, smiling innocently when she glared at him. "What? I just notice Emily's with him and not you."

"Does Lester know about..." She gestured at Jack's team.

"More or less. We're waiting for Matt, but we'll take 'em back to the ARC after that." To Jack, Connor added, "ARC's our base, you can meet the boss and we'll figure out what to do."

"That's a bit specific," Becker said pointedly.

"What's it gonna tell them? Ten years ago ARC wasn't even in operation."

"Connor," Abby said warningly.

"Don't you have readings to take, Connor?" Becker said wearily.

"When you say readings, you mean..."

"I mean go away and stop saying things in front of the – incursionists."

"I can take a hint," he said brightly, and against all evidence. "Colonel, can I get your team something to drink? Or a power bar, or something?"

Jack glanced at Carter, who nodded minutely. Caution was one thing, but Connor was trying so damn hard. "Water's good. And Jonas just loves a good banana."

"Banana. Check. Abs, can you get the guys to find something to sit on? If Matt's held up, we could be here a while."

"Sure," Abby agreed, turning to wave the nearest soldier over. Connor grinned at her, jogging to the nearest jeep and digging around in the back.

"So." Jack smiled. "Captain Becker..."

"Just Becker."

"Just Becker. Air Force?"

"Army."

"How nice for you."

"Well, not everyone can be a flyboy, sir."

"So true," Jack agreed lightly, aware of Abby watching them carefully. "What division?"

"One of the good ones."

"That narrows it down."

"Sir," Carter protested.

"What? I'm just talking."

"No, you're poking," she said, more honestly than she probably should have. "Stop it."

"Remind me again, which of us is the Colonel and which is the Major?"

Abby watched the two pretend to bicker, well aware that they were watching her in return. Becker was tense beside her, but to his credit he hadn't responded to the jibes from the colonel.

"Why's he doing that?" she murmured.

"I'm guessing he doesn't like that I left the service."

"You left the service?"

He rolled his eyes. "You and your fiancé. Never listen to anything, either of you – Jess, tell him we're waiting, will you?"

Abby toggled her earpiece in time to hear Jess say placidly, "Think it'll make a difference the fourth time? He knows what's going on."

"Tell him to hurry, or I might slip and shoot someone."

"Becker!" Abby echoed Jess's reprimand.

"Probably Connor," Becker added, wincing as she elbowed him in the side.

"This is why he took away your guns," she told him.

"Connor took away Becker's guns?" Jess repeated. "I'm looking forward to this report already."

"Right." Connor came back, grinning at her and carrying a small crate. "Abs, the chairs?"

"On the way." She flicked her earpiece off again. "Not chairs, as such, but nice sturdy crates."

"Cool. All right." He offered the crate to Major Carter, who took out a bottle of water with a smile. "Couldn't find any bananas," he said apologetically to Jonas, "but there'll be some at the ARC, or I'll send for some if we're here much longer."

"Thanks. What does ARC stand for?"

Connor tilted his head. "What's SGC stand for?"

"Don't answer that," Jack ordered.

"Sorry," Jonas said mildly.

"Sure." Connor offered the box to Murray, who shook his head politely, and to Jack, who took a bottle. He passed the crate back to Becker, frowning at Carter.

"What?" she asked, pausing in the act of taking a drink.

"Your ankle." He gestured vaguely. "Looks sore. Want me to grab a first aid kit?"

"Oh." Carter looked down, stretching her ankle gingerly. The cuff of her trousers was torn and ragged and the skin below was scraped and raw. "No, it's just scraped up."

"Carter?" O'Neill asked.

"I just caught it on...on the steps, sir. It's nothing, honestly."

"Jonas," O'Neill murmured. "Boot off, Major," he added more loudly. Carter grimaced but obeyed, and Jonas sat on the ground in front of her and examined it carefully while Connor hovered.

"Scraped," he announced finally. "It's not serious – you should wash it, though, to be safe."

"There's antiseptic, I'll get some," Connor offered. Becker muttered something and Connor smacked him on the shoulder as he passed him.

Abby took the antiseptic from him when he got back, letting Carter examine the bottle and the seal. "Want me to?" she offered.

"No. Thanks. Jonas just qualified, he needs the practise."

"Hey," Jonas protested mildly, but he took the antiseptic and a handful of paper towels and set to work. Carter didn't flinch, so he must have been reasonably skilled.

Three soldiers arrived toting empty metal crates, and after a few minutes of shuffling and moving everyone was sitting, ARC team facing off against the newcomers. Abby winced at the thought; there was no sign so far that they meant any harm, after all.

"So what is that?" Carter asked, gesturing to the locked Anomaly.

"Oh! It's..." Becker whipped his head around to glare at Connor, who subsided unhappily. "Better wait till Matt gets here," he muttered.

Abby patted his hand sympathetically. "We'll make sure you get to tell them when it's time," she told him.

"Promise?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Course."

"None of the rest of us want to," Becker said, just about audible.

Connor ignored him. "Meant to ask, Abby, what happened with your – where you were?"

Abby twitched; Connor would never make a spy, he just wasn't subtle enough. "No problem, all sorted."

"Good."

"Abby Maitland," Murray said abruptly.

"Yep." She straightened, turning to look at him more fully.

"May I ask a question?"

"Sure." Becker shifted and she added, "but I might not be able to answer."

"It does not pertain to our situation here."

"Go ahead, then."

He looked down. "I understand that the placement of your ring indicates you are preparing to marry."

He was looking at her hand. She glanced down automatically, grinning at the flare of gold on her ring finger. "That's not always true, some people just wear rings there, but yes. I am engaged."

He considered that for a moment before bowing his head in an oddly formal acknowledgement. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Connor said, just a little too loudly. She saw the Colonel's eyes widen and then shutter as he absorbed that.

"You two are engaged?" Carter said. "Wow. Congratulations."

"Is it customary in England's military for couples to serve together?" Murray asked.

"We're not military," Abby said. It must have come out a little sharper than she meant, because Becker shot her a look. "So it doesn't matter."

"I see."

Becker touched his earpiece suddenly, turning towards the entrance. "About time, too."

Abby glanced at Connor, who mouthed 'Matt,' rising to his feet and heading towards the door. Becker clearly wanted to go after him but was restraining himself.

Abby looked back at the others. "Our team leader is here," she told them.

"Good," the Colonel said. "Been looking forward to meeting him."

"I bet he's looking forward to meeting you, too." She touched her earpiece; Connor's was still on, and she could hear him earnestly pleading the team's innocence to Matt. Becker could hear it too, from the look on his face.

Matt appeared around the corner; Connor was walking backwards in front of him, still talking. Emily was beside him, watching Connor with some amusement.

Matt caught Connor's arm, redirecting him before he would have fallen over one of the equipment boxes. "All right, Connor," he said, cutting him off when he tried to speak again. "I hear you." Looking past him, he locked gazes with Colonel O'Neill. "Introduce me."