A/N: I suddenly have a very strong urge to do this story and leave Heir for a while but not because I am running out of ideas (still got a lot of tricks up my sleeve) for it but rather, I want to take a break from it. Even for a short while. Maybe depression has got something to do with it, not sure, but in case anyone would like to know, the idea of writing Gathering in the first place came around the same way almost a year ago. To those who reviewed… what can I say? Is there any other way to show my appreciation other than saying "thank you"? You're welcome to send me your suggestions. :)

Oh, yeah, just wanted to add that this is a friendship fic. In case someone gets any funny ideas. Lol :)

"It is by chance we met, by choice we became friends."

Chapter Three - First Contact

I really hadn't known anything much about the newest member of SG-1. Only snippets of what I heard around the base and, frankly, none of them were good.

Alien spy. Traitor. Ambitious.

Dr. Jackson's killer.

I instantly believed them, fool that I was, and had never even bothered to find out if any of them were true. Human nature, I guess.

Truth be told, I really did not care then because I was happy with the way my life was going at Stargate Command. My career, my team, my own set of friends. I do feel sorry for the guy, though, since almost everyone wanted nothing to do with him and was only saved from physical harm because he was surrounded by the powers-that-be of the base.

After what happened to Dr. Jackson all those months ago, I felt the loss just like everyone else did at SGC because without him, both the Program and Gate travel would never be a possibility. I firmly believed that we owed him a lot and one of them would be Earth's continued freedom from Goa'uld occupation. So when an alien and an inexperienced one like Jonas Quinn entered the picture, I also shared the feeling of anger and resentment everybody else felt at the knowledge that a nobody was going to fill in the void that the archaeologist had left behind.

What's more was the thought of Dr. Jackson being replaced by the very person that killed him, even if it was Col. O'Neill himself who chose the self-exiled alien over a Russian, it was still an insult to his memory.

And what was the general thinking when he offered the archaeologist's office for the Kelownan to use as his own? Were they simply indifferent? Or were they merely daft? I think unlikely.

My primary thought then was if everyone gave him the cold shoulder, well, I guess he deserved it. The guy should've had at least an inkling of what was coming at him.

He snuck out of his planet with some naquadria for good measure to ensure that he would not be kicked back to the planet he had just turned his back on. Traitor's a heavy one to call a person but his actions were indeed those of one. So I guess it was just right to call him that after all that's happened.

Once a traitor always a traitor. That's what they say. Who knows, he might just do that again in order to save his own hide and I think that's what made people wary of him.

But if that was the case, then why did the general and the colonel agreed on letting Jonas Quinn join SG-1? The colonel's reason was just lame, now that I thought of it. They could've had just confined him to base and forbid him to ever get anywhere near the Stargate. Or they could just put him in a mad house and throw away the key since no one would believe any of his stories about coming here from another world. Jonas Quinn had already exhausted his usefulness once he had turned over the naquadria to them. He simply had nothing left to offer.

Or maybe, there's something about him that SG-1 had seen that no one else did.

What?

As I sat by one of the medical beds of the infirmary being examined by Dr. Fraiser, a battle was furiously raging on inside of me. Should I dare ask her? The urge to say something and to not say something made a tug-of-war in my mind. Asking her was the idea that I had back at the hallway but now that she was standing right in front of me, my resolve waned.

The bones were healing nicely and I should be back on active duty much sooner than the doctor had expected but still recommended for me to go easy.

The nurse that fetched me from level 28 left minutes ago. The examination was over and as I was about to jump down and thank her – I've decided not to ask her after all – Dr. Janet Fraiser laid a gentle, but firm hand on my good arm.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, lieutenant?"

I looked down at her mildly surprised. How'd she know?

"You kept looking at me the entire time."

I hardly recalled ever doing that.

"What is it?"

I wanted to say that it was nothing but what came out of my lips was different. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Mr. Quinn, ma'am."

The doctor stood there, surprise evident on her face before it was replaced by a guarded look accompanied by the undeniable drop of her voice. "Why?"

Yes. Good question. Why do I bother? It was straightforward and obtrusive but she was the only person, except for Gen. Hammond and SG-1, who knew Jonas Quinn as no other had bothered knowing anything about him. She was also the only person that I could ask in order for me to understand something, if just a little bit, about the person I wanted to befriend.

I shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to know more about him." Coming from someone who does. I left that part out but I think Dr. Fraiser got my meaning. I wanted to sound as casual as I could, wanting to send across that it really wasn't that important.

"Not satisfied with what's been said about him around, huh?" She was testing me.

I had an answer to that. "I find them not to my liking, ma'am."

She regarded me for a long moment. Maybe seizing me up and what was my real motive for asking. I became self-conscious of her stare. Maybe I should've just clamped my mouth shut and left it at that.

The doctor sighed. "What do you already know," – she looked down at my medical chart – "Aidan?"

Her use of my given name gave the indication that this entire conversation was only between the two of us and that made me relax. I already knew my answer beforehand and, although ashamed as I was, told her. Nothing.

That elicited a soft chuckle from the medical chief. "Well, that's one thing you don't hear every day."

She was probably thinking of the rumors that were running rampant around the base. I just sat there, my eyes roaming the sterile infirmary waiting for her to continue.

Chief Master Sergeant Siler, the Chief Gate techician was lying three beds down from us. He must've had gotten himself in an accident again. How many times this week? I think the tech was subconsciously trying to surpass anyone, even members of the SG teams, in the number of times a lone individual gets to visit the infirmary in a multitude of aches and pains ever known to man. He was more accident prone than Dr. Jackson was. And to think that he never even went off world.

"He trusts easily."

I blinked, refocusing my attention on the petite woman. "Ma'am?"

"Jonas," she said. "He trusts easily and blindingly. It's his nature to be ever so friendly."

I nodded, urging for her to continue. He seemed approachable the times I'd seen him around. Even saw him smile a handful of times at people who merely stared at him in return or shrugged him off entirely.

"But it's not enough." She sighed. "People around here want blood."

I knew what she was saying. I harbored that belief once myself. "Because of what happened to Dr. Jackson." It was a fact, not a question.

"Yes,"

"But from what I've heard, Mr. Quinn wouldn't want to help in the first place after his government accused Dr. Jackson of sabotaging their Naquadria Project." That incident was an open secret so basically everyone at SGC knew about that.

Dr. Fraiser crossed her arms as she said thoughtfully, "It's not that he did not want to help, but rather, he was hesitant. He suddenly found himself in a very compromising position. On the one hand, he had the safety of his people to think about. On the other, he wanted to clear Daniel's name, but doing so would be seen as a traitorous act amongst his people, siding with the strangers who wanted to stop them from building the bomb in the first place."

In short, the guy was simply confused at what to do. I knew I would.

"Jonas is as much of a victim here as Daniel was. If he went against the project, that would be the end of him. If not, then he would have blood on his hands if the naquadria bomb would ever be used and I don't think Jonas could ever live with that."

Wow, that's a new way to look at it. Even I had not thought of that.

"If only they could see past that," she continued, "I think they'll find the young man not hard to like. People tend to get carried away by their emotions, regardless of it being wrong or right."

They just acted on it. I know. I'd been there. "If anyone has the right to be angry that should be Dr. Jackson's friends."

"They used to be, that's for sure, but it all gradually changed at some point due to circumstances surrounding them that had allowed them to know Jonas a little bit more. He also proved himself to be a valuable member of SG-1 many times over."

"You mean to say, that Col. O'Neill tolerates Mr. Quinn because of what he can do?"

Dr. Fraiser smiled. "I'd say that it's Jonas who tolerates him most of the time."

"But except for those who do know Mr. Quinn everybody here's giving him little or no acknowledgement at all."

"Maybe some are still holding a grudge against Jonas but I think the reason why people are still giving him the cold shoulder is because it's been gone unchecked for so long they had gotten used to the idea of simply ignoring him."

Very plausible now that I thought of it.

"Still," she continued, "he never stops smiling and helpful and ever so optimistic. His smile is his defense mechanism of sorts. It hides the loneliness he feels and tends to ward off any concerns someone may direct his way, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. Sometimes it worries me."

"Don't you feel any anger towards him? I mean, he is the reason why Dr. Jackson's gone."

"I was," Dr. Fraiser answered honestly. "But I cannot be for long because it's my job to take care of him also. And it didn't take me long to discover just how much pain he's in. How lonely. And sad. There's something about him that makes me want to help him. He's so much like Daniel at times."

A nurse suddenly appeared behind her. Cassie, her daughter, was on the telephone. She nodded her thanks before once again turning to me. I knew our conversation was at an end but I didn't want to leave just yet.

"It's been nice talking to you, lieutenant." She said as I slid down the medical bed. "Take care of that arm, y'hear?"

I thanked her gratefully mostly for the insight on Jonas Quinn. She smiled once again as she gently patted my good arm in a motherly fashion before walking away.

As I stumbled out of the infirmary, a lot of things went through my mind. Most of all, the marvel I felt in the way Jonas had managed through it all. I really wasn't looking to where I was going, immersed in my own little world, and as I turned a corner I collided hard against someone.

We both stumbled away from each other as books, scrolls, parchment of papers and other writing materials fell into a messy heap on the floor. The ruckus they made at the empty hallway was enough to send my ears ringing. Regaining my balance, I saw the unlucky fellow that crossed my path.

I stood immobile for a few before I realized that he was already on his hands and knees picking his things up. Immediately I was there beside him helping. "I'm sorry," I stammered, not really looking at him, collecting those that my good arm could reach and stacked them beside me. "I wasn't looking to where I was going…"

Jonas Quinn shrugged indifferently. "It's okay," he replied in a deadpan manner. "I get that all the time…" he added under his breath as he made a grab for a runaway pencil before it got out of reach.

I threw him a puzzled glance before I realized what he implied. That's not what I meant at all. But instead of explaining myself I just continued what I was doing. Suddenly I chuckled as my attempts at arranging the papers I've collected one-handed failed. That got my companion's attention.

"What?" he asked in a tone that was suspiciously wary.

"Wish I hadn't broken my collarbone." I replied, nodding my head at my slinged arm before looking at him. "It would make fixing these much faster."

Curiosity twinkled in Jonas Quinn's green eyes. "What happened?"

I told him, though I omitted a couple of details I am too ashamed to recount. "I could've broken my neck or been carried away downstream if not for a tree jutting near the base of the cliff wall." I added. "Broke two ribs, too."

Sympathy was clearly written all over his face. "That really just sucks," he said as he took the pile of papers from my hand and arranged it himself. His wariness immediately forgotten as Jonas Quinn became caught up with my misfortune. "But I supposed they said "thank you" at least?"

I watched him put the rest of the papers together with the books on one single stack, the scrolls beside it. "Well…" I slowly began, tilting my head to one side, "there was a lot going on and I wasn't thinking about that at all."

The youngest member (maybe around my age, I presume) of SG-1 eyed me incredulously as he gathered everything up on one arm. I gave him a sheepish lopsided smile in return. He then straightened up.

And tentatively offered his hand down at me.

It was not until a few months later that I came to realize, out of retrospect and with a little help from Jonas, that that was the very first gesture he made towards befriending me. Me. When it was I who was hell bent on being friends with him.

I grasped the proffered hand firmly and let him pull me up, when I heard footsteps behind us.

"Hey!"

I turned to see Noel striding towards us, a darkening scowl on his face. Uh-oh.

"This guy bothering you?" The vehemence in his voice was hard to ignore. He was now fuming angrily beside me, staring at the Kelownan, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

I turned to look at Jonas Quinn who kept a cool exterior as he stared right back at Noel. "No." I stated matter-of-factly as I stood between them, facing Noel fully as I tried blocking the Kelownan from his sights.

Noel skeptically looked at me. "You sure?"

"I am," I answered, adding a little edge to my voice. "Look, Noel, it's my fault. I bumped into him. I wasn't looking, okay?"

I then turned an apologetic look at Jonas, way past caring if Noel noticed it or not. "I'm really sorry. You sure you're okay?"

Jonas nodded, not taking his eyes away from my friend. "Yeah, don't worry."

Just then Noel snaked his way around me and shoved Jonas hard on the shoulder. "You stay away from my friends – "

"Hey!" I pushed Noel away from him. That was totally uncalled for. I anxiously looked at both ends of the hallway in case someone might chance upon us.

"Y'hear?" he yelled as I continued pushing him back down the corridor. "We don't want traitors watching our six so you should get back to wherever hellhole it is that you came from. We don't need your kind here!"

I growled out a warning at Noel before turning to utter a hurried apology but Jonas Quinn was already going the opposite way and turned a corner out of sight.

We walked in stony silence as I retreated back to my room with barely controlled anger. I waited until the two of us were safely inside before I confronted him.

"What the hell was that all about?" I barked.

He turned an innocent look at me. "What?"

I jerked my thumb angrily over my shoulder. "That ruckus you just made back at the hallway?"

He shrugged as if that was a normal occurrence to even worry about. "I thought he was making a nuisance of himself."

I gaped at him sitting casually on one of the sofas. "I already told you, it was my fault. What part of the sentence did you not understand?"

"Okay," Noel easily relented shrugging, "so I went out of line – "

"Ya think?" I was so furious that I wanted to hit something or someone.

"All right, so I made a mistake," he snorted lightly, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Why are you so pissed, Aidan?"

"I'm pissed because of the fact the he didn't do anything and yet you kept on going at him!" I tried keeping my emotions in check. "I can't believe you!"

"So, now what?" Noel asked irritated. "You're siding with the traitor now?"

"You're sounding more and more like Capt. Burkes," I retorted. I was starting to dislike the man immensely as seconds passed. He was definitely not a good influence on Noel. The man was a total jerk.

Suddenly, Noel stood up. "Look, I thought he was harassing you. So I did what I thought I had to do."

"By calling him a traitor?" God, I hate that word!

Noel shook his head at me. "This discussion is getting nowhere. I just want to check on you before I leave for an off world mission tomorrow, to see if you've settled in fine." He headed for the door.

I pursed my lips together as he went past me, thinking all of those misconceptions I had initially thought of about Jonas Quinn and after my enlightening conversation with Dr. Fraiser a few minutes earlier, I quickly learned the err of my ways. I also wanted to make Noel see his. So clenching my teeth together I had one final question I wanted to throw at him.

"You know," I began gravely, turning to look at my friend. "I don't get it, Noel," he paused to look at me, his hand on the doorknob. "What has he done to you? To any of you?"

We stared at each other for a few moments before Noel Sykes opened the door and walked out without a word.