A/N: Hey, look what I found on the WRONG F**KING HARD DRIVE. Sorry. Someone messed with my files and I'm pissed. Anyway. Enjoy :)

Part two – Initiation.

"You want him to stay on at the SGC?"

"Yes. I know he can't offer us any advances in technology, but he has an understanding of languages and cultures that we've not even come across in some cases. He could be a huge help in terms of translations and knowledge – there's almost no overlap in what we know, there's so much he could teach us. We're understaffed as it is, sir, we need all the help we can get."

"Hm." The General sounded sceptical. "And what has he asked for in return?"

"Asylum – he's an ideological refugee." Daniel sighed tiredly and ran one hand through his hair, leaving it even more mussed. "His world is controlled by the Go'auld, and he wants to defeat them. He wants to stay here and help us."

Hammond half-shrugged. "I won't argue with that. However," he added, "He'll have to meet military and SGC standards if he wishes to remain part of this facility. To that end, I'll arrange for him to be put through the same one-day initial training programme all new recruits go through. If he fails, he may be kept on as a civilian consultant, but he will not be allowed through the Stargate and he will not be allowed to use any alien technology we find. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Daniel stood carefully, trying not to smile.

"Go and tell him the good news, then. Jack and Teal'c will pick him up at 0800 tomorrow."

They'd set up one of the 'guest rooms' for Matt, as if not quite sure what to do with him. To say it was spartan was something of an understatement: there was a bed, a desk, a chair and a laptop computer, and absolutely nothing else. When Daniel arrived, Matt was sat cross-legged on the bed, working on the laptop.

"I'm still struggling a little with the written language, but it's getting easier," he admitted, setting it aside and standing up.

"Find anything interesting?"

"I was researching the planet as it is now. Six billion people? That's insane."

"How many on your world, then?" Daniel asked. Matt shrugged.

"I don't know for sure. Maybe half a billion? I think the population used to be much higher, but there were so many wars, and disease… I guess we just killed each other off. Changing the subject," he smiled, "What did Hammond have to say?"

Daniel returned the smile as they walked to the canteen. "You've been accepted into the SGC, but they're putting you through the initiation all the new recruits go through to see if you're good enough to go off-world."

Matt laughed. "Excuse me while I drown in the irony. Any ideas what this initiation involves?"

"Nope, I never had to take it," Daniel grabbed two mugs of coffee, offering one to Matt. "Here."

"This is what you were missing, right?" Matt asked, cautiously taking a sip of the hot liquid. "That's weird."

"What's weird?" Sam asked, walking over to them with her own mug of coffee.

"Sam, this is Matt; Matt, this is Sam Carter," Daniel said quickly. "She's another member of SG-1, and she's the one to ask about wormholes, not me."

"Hi," Matt said, shaking the offered hand. "Nice to meet you."

"And you," Sam replied as they sat down at a free table. "So, you're taking the test tomorrow?"

Matt nodded.

"You nervous?"

"Terrified," he smiled. "Mostly because I have no idea what I might have let myself in for."

"Good answer," Sam laughed. "You'll be fine."

"Having a little tea-party here, are we? Well, coffee-party."

Daniel didn't even bother to turn round. "Hi, Jack."

"Please tell me you've never said that in an airport," Jack muttered sarcastically.

"Wait a minute… if this is the coffee-party, then presumably I'm the Mad Hatter, and Daniel's clearly the March Hare, and Matt is our reluctant Alice, then what does that make you?" Sam asked wryly. "Tweedledum?"

"Tweedledumber," Daniel muttered into his coffee, catching Matt's eye. Both tried not to giggle, with little success.

Jack sighed. "I can't win." He joined them at the table. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill. You must be our new recruit."

"That's me. It's nice to meet you," Matt replied.

"Daniel, have you got him addicted already?" Jack asked, noticing what Matt was drinking. "Come on, I can barely cope with one of you running around on a caffeine high. How can you expect me to cope with two?"

As they left, Daniel asked quietly, "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

Matt nodded. "I think it's the only way I'll get any sleep." He half-smiled. "Damn you, Daniel. I need you."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"I don't like being dependent on another person," Matt retorted. Then he sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out. It scares me that I'm reliant on you. If you're not there… then what?" He shook his head. "Ignore me. I'm being selfish here. Sorry."

"No, you're not," Daniel replied. "And I'm not leaving you. There's nothing selfish about wanting me to stay or just needing someone. It's fine."

"Thanks," Matt said quietly. "Do you want to go up to your office so it looks like we're working on some translation overnight?"

Daniel stopped, head tilted on one side. "How do you know that regulations state we can't openly be together?"

"I didn't. But after hearing a group on another table talking about 'filthy faggots' and 'sick fairies' that 'don't belong', I guessed it was probably not a good idea to skip around the SGC holding hands with you." Matt half-smiled as they walked to Daniel's office. "Typical. You come halfway across the galaxy trying to escape prejudice, only to find it's got there ahead of you."

Jack knocked on the door, twice. A few seconds later, Matt looked out. He didn't seem tired, or drowsy, like he'd just woken up; he'd clearly been awake for some time. "What is it? It's only 0730."

"I know. I was asked to find you early to make sure you ate breakfast and had the right gear," the colonel explained. "We'll go to the lockers first, find you a uniform, then grab something to eat and go. Have you seen Daniel, by the way?"

"We were working on a translation overnight, trying to work out how much overlap there is in our knowledge," Matt replied, the lie slipping easily off his tongue as they walked to the locker room. "Turns out, not that much." He changed quickly into the black trousers, t-shirt and jacket and laced up the boots, smiling slightly. Jack raised an eyebrow as he handed over the rucksack.

"What? Black is my colour."

They – Jack and Teal'c – dropped him off in a helicopter.

"Okay," Jack shouted over the noise of the blades. "We'll be waiting for you–" he pointed at the red dot on the GPS display "–here. You've got five hours to get there, and if you miss us, you've failed. Got it?"

Matt nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. Shouting wasn't worth the effort.

"Alright. See you there!" the colonel yelled, getting back into the helicopter and taking off.

"Should we not have warned him about the group doing target practice, Colonel O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, as the helicopter gained altitude.

"That's part of the test," Jack replied. "See if he's smart enough to avoid them. They're only using paintball guns, anyway."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything further.

In the clearing where he'd been dropped, Matt examined the GPS, trying to learn what he could about his surroundings. It was a fairly old model that gave little information about the terrain or any possible problems ahead. He was about to give up and just start jogging in the right direction when he heard something in the distance. He darted to the tree line and stayed absolutely still, trying to work out where the noise had come from. The question was answered a few minutes later when a young man in camouflage gear crashed through the trees into the clearing. He was carrying what looked like a gun, but as he turned and fired twice, apparently at random, Matt realised it was only a practice weapon. All it fired was paint – so you can see where you've hit – so this guy was doing some target practice.

And where there's one, there's likely to be others. This could be part of the test, Matt thought. They want to know how I react to an unexpected threat. Even if it's not, this guy won't be alone, and chances are they'll shoot at whatever moves. Either way, I'm not going on unarmed.

As the paint gun-wielding junior turned away from him again, Matt sprinted towards him and knocked him to the floor, muttering a quiet, "Sorry," as he yanked the gun from his grasp and ran back into the trees. He didn't stop, or slow down, until the victim's yells of frustration were inaudible from the distance. He glanced at the GPS, confirming he was going the right way, slung the paint gun over his shoulder and kept running.

"What's he doing?" Jack wondered, following the blinking red dot on the map. He and the other three members of SG-1 were in Sam's lab, watching Matt's progress. "I don't get it. Why would he wait in the trees, then run into the clearing, and then run away that far without stopping?"

"Perhaps he is being pursued by members of the target practice group," Teal'c suggested.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Matt's too smart for that. He doesn't even want them to know he's there," Daniel mused, turning to Sam. "Can you show the group doing target practice on this map in another colour?"

Sam nodded. "Sure. Their weapons have trackers, so I'll use that." She went back to the computer and tapped a few keys. "Okay, that should show up the target practice group in green."

"Woah, that guy's right on top of him! What's going on?" Jack asked in surprise, as a green dot flashed on top of the red one indicating Matt. Sam looked up at the map, saw the cluster of green in the clearing, and the solitary green and red, and burst out laughing. "Oh, wow."

"What? What is it?" Daniel asked, puzzled.

"He's stolen one of the paintball guns. It's the only explanation." Sam leaned back in her chair and smiled. "You've got to hand it to him, he's pretty good."

"That's why he waited in the trees," Jack realised. "He saw someone coming, and waited for the right moment, and then ran." He grinned. "You were right, Daniel, he's smart."

Matt smiled to himself, seeing the light through the trees. The end of the wood was in sight, and that meant he was nearly at the pickup point. He looked down at the GPS for confirmation, and then at the time it gave. Two hours to spare. That's not bad. When he stepped over a fallen tree and out into the open space, though, he realised why they'd given him the extra two hours.

The hill more or less fell away a short distance from the edge of the trees. If he'd kept running, he would've gone over. Gingerly, he walked to the edge and looked down.

Oh, shit, that's pretty steep. Not running down there in a hurry. He looked left and right quickly for any other way down, but the steep drop continued, on both sides, for what looked like several miles each way. There wasn't time to try running along the edge looking for a shallower incline. He swore in frustration and threw a stone down the edge. There's probably some point about looking at your route before you run off in this… He paused, watching the stone. The drop wasn't as steep as it appeared: the stone wasn't actually going fast enough to be dangerous. Some kind of scramble or slide? He looked back to the trees, noticing the one that had fallen on its side. The bark had partly peeled away after months of damp weather. Perfect.

"Okay, now I'm really confused," Jack said.

"Call the networks," Daniel muttered under his breath.

The red and green dots had been moving around in a very small area for several minutes. Now they were moving at high speed in an almost perfect straight line towards the pickup point.

Sam frowned. "Hold on. I'm going to put the contour lines back on for a minute." She typed a short instruction on the computer and the orange lines scrolled down over the screen.

"Closer together means steeper, right?" the archaeologist asked.

"That is correct, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied. Daniel smiled.

"He's sliding down the hill."

"On what?" Jack asked. "We swept the area yesterday. Twice! There's nothing left there for him to use."

Daniel shrugged. "Maybe you missed something because you'd never think of using it. A fallen tree, a piece of bark, I don't know. But he's improvised something."

"Better get the helicopter," Sam laughed. "Or you'll miss him."

"Jack, be careful," Daniel said quickly. "Matt could seriously hurt you if he wanted to."

The colonel just looked at him like he was mad. "Yeah, right."

As Jack and Teal'c left hurriedly, Daniel sighed, asking, "Why does no-one ever listen…? How long did that run actually take him?"

"Including the time spent on top of the hill? About three and a half hours."

"And how far was it?"

"Not sure…" Sam checked the computer log of the GPS transmissions. "About fourteen and a half miles. He's seriously fast. We've got Marines here that couldn't match that."

"That's the first test done, then," Daniel said thoughtfully.

"First and second. Getting down the hill is the second test," Sam corrected.

"What are the others?"

"Third is usually some kind of unarmed combat, and there's usually some form of target practice. There might be an intelligence test, but it's unlikely. And obviously there's a medical exam at the end," Sam explained, counting the tests off on her fingers as she spoke.

"Uh-oh," Daniel said quietly.

"What?"

"Matt's probably been in more fights than Jack has ever even seen, never mind participated in," Daniel said wryly. Seeing Sam's puzzled look, he explained: "Matt's been bullied and harassed most of his life. He had to learn how to defend himself, he didn't have a choice. And Jack hasn't got a clue, so he'll probably go easy and get his head kicked in for his trouble."

"Hold on," Sam interjected. "You said in your mission debrief that you'd had a fight with Matt shortly before you came back, and you pinned him to the floor to make him stop."

"Because he let me," Daniel said simply. "If he'd wanted to, he could probably have really hurt me. But our friendship was more important than his anger at me, so he threw the fight." He smiled wryly. "And Jack has no idea. Do you think if I'd showed him the bruises he would have listened?"

"Listened? Yes. Believed you? Unlikely," Sam laughed. "Maybe he'll learn something from it. You never know. Stranger things have happened."

"What – 'don't mess with Matt, or you will die a slow and painful death'?" Daniel asked sarcastically. Sam laughed.

"Hope springs eternal."

Matt was lying on the ground in a dizzy heap, having jumped off his improvised sledge a little early and rolled the last few feet. "Ugh. Not doing that again in a hurry," he muttered to himself, carefully sitting up and checking the pack. The water was still there, and thankfully still in its container, so he took a few sips and ate one of the snack bars. Hearing the noise of the helicopter overhead, he stood up and waited for it to land before jogging over and scrambling inside.

"Okay, we're going to do some unarmed combat practice," Jack explained, once the helicopter had landed and they were walking back to the SGC indoor gymnasium. "So, before we start, the rules are: no permanent damage, no running away, and no use of weapons." He handed Matt shin guards, a box, and a head guard. "If you want to quit, you concede the fight and say, 'You've won, let me up'." He grinned at Matt. "Ready?"

Matt nodded, and punched him hard in the face. This was swiftly followed up with a knee in the stomach, a sweeping kick that took the colonel's legs out from under him, and while he was sprawled on the padded floor, Matt grabbed his right arm and wrenched it up into a painful shoulder lock.

"Alright down there, sir?" he asked dryly. Jack tried to reply, but all that came out was a series of muffled curses.

"I'm sorry, didn't quite catch that. Am I allowed to just let you up? I'm bored."

Jack sighed, and tried again. "What I said was – I think we should go again, and this time I won't go so easy."

Matt shrugged, although he knew the colonel couldn't see it. "Alright." He let go of the older man's arm and stood up, offering him a hand.

"Right," Jack said, getting his breath back, "Let's try that again. Ready?"

"Ready to kick your ass again, kezarei," Matt replied sarcastically. He nodded, and Jack swung at him – a right haymaker, still going pretty easy. He sighed, blocked it, kicked the colonel hard in the ribs and took him down again, this time flipping him onto his back with his arms pinned.

"Happy now? Or do you want to try third time lucky?"

He let Jack up again. The man was clearly feeling the effect of two hard takedowns, but he was stubborn enough to try again. Ten out of ten for sheer force of will, Jack; minus several thousand for not recognising a fight you've already lost. They nodded at each other, and Jack tried a tackle. He thought it had worked – Matt went down – but the younger man twisted and somehow managed to flip them over, and once again he was pinned to the floor.

"Alright, I concede," he muttered. "You win. Let me up." He stood slowly, trying to ignore the parts of his body that were complaining.

"You okay?" Matt asked. He'd barely broken a sweat.

"I'm fine," Jack replied tiredly. "Teal'c, can you take him down to target practice?"

"Of course, O'Neill." He led Matt to the range cadets practised on and left him with the Sergeant in charge of the range, going back up to find Jack leaning on the wall looking utterly exhausted.

"I suggest that you go to the Infirmary, O'Neill," Teal'c said calmly.

"Yeah – I'm going to. Damn kid. He's a hell of a lot stronger than he looks," Jack commented as they walked down the corridor.

"I would venture that he has had extensive training in martial arts," Teal'c observed.

"No kidding," the colonel muttered sarcastically, mentally cataloguing the parts of him that didn't hurt – it was probably faster than trying to count the parts that did. "I need some painkillers. Or a lot of alcohol…"

"Ever fired a gun before?"

Matt shook his head. "Never."

"Well, it's dead simple, if you'll forgive the expression," the sergeant replied tiredly. "Just point the muzzle at the target, check your sight line, and pull the trigger. I want you to fire off three shots at the blue man target, okay?"

"Closer to the ten means a better shot, right?"

"That's right. Ear defenders on, range is hot, fire at will."

Who exactly is Will? Matt thought, shifting his weight to the back foot. And why am I firing at him?

He took one breath in, relaxed, and pulled the trigger three times in quick succession.

"Bloody hell," the sergeant muttered, removing the defenders and taking back the gun. "If you've never fired a gun before, I dread to think what'll happen with experience."

There were three neat holes in the target. None of them were actually anywhere near the 'ten' circle in the middle; all three were in a straight line down the length of the target's face, the middle right between its eyes.

"Beginner's luck?" Matt asked.

"Beginner's luck, my arse," the sergeant muttered resentfully. "Dismissed."

Matt smiled wryly, walking out and trying to guess his way to the Infirmary. "Must be my lucky day."

"So, how was it?" Daniel asked, appearing out of nowhere – well, another corridor.

"The weapons test? Not bad," Matt laughed. "Although I think the sergeant got a bit of a shock."

Daniel sighed. "Let me guess: you completely ignored what he said to you, did extremely well, and gave him the scare of his life?"

"Pretty much. I think he thinks I'm after his job. As if! Like I want to spend all day with meatheads firing guns," Matt commented. Daniel stopped then, in the middle of the corridor.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?"

"All the corridors look the same. I was kind of hoping you were going to lead me to wherever I'm supposed to go."

"That's a no, then," Daniel muttered, smiling. "Infirmary's back that way."

Matt shrugged, falling back into step beside him. "What? It's not like someone thought to give me a map, is it?"

"Oh, I forgot you were coming in for a medical," Jack said, sitting up as they walked in. "How was it?"

"Pretty good. I think I did okay, at least, even if it wasn't quite what the sergeant was expecting," came the reply. One of the nurses walked over at that point and pulled the curtain across, attempting to end the conversation. She didn't have much luck.

"So, you ready for a rematch yet?" Jack asked jokingly.

"Bring it on, kezarei," Matt called back. Daniel stifled a smirk, and attempted a glare, with little success.

"Matt, you cannot call him that! I don't care what he's done to you…" The archaeologist tailed off in a fit of laughter.

"Oh god… Now I'm worried. He said that earlier as well. What does kezarei mean, exactly? You're the linguist, Daniel," the colonel said nervously.

Daniel sighed briefly. "It's… hard to explain without… invoking some terms that – that should really not be used" – he glared at Matt, who just smiled innocently – "in reference to senior officers…"

"Daniel…" The warning note was obvious in O'Neill's voice.

"Jack… Alright. Are you going to know what I mean if I say, 'banjo territory'?"

There was silence from behind the curtain for a moment.

"Bastard."

"Worse than that."

"Thanks, Daniel, that makes me feel so much better."

"Sorry."

"Okay, I've got back the test results," the nurse said, walking over. Matt and Daniel were perched on the edge of the bed, talking. "Everything's within the normal boundaries, apart from your BMI." Seeing the mystified expressions in front of her, she explained: "It's a measure of your body mass in relation to your height – it's your weight in kilos divided by your height squared in metres."

"You couldn't have just said I was tall and skinny?" Matt asked wryly.

"It's more than just that, it's looking worrying in terms of your health. You're close to being chronically underweight, to the point that we're starting to wonder if you're actually malnourished. To try and remedy this, we're putting you on a controlled diet to make sure you're eating what you need. I expect you to follow this" – she brandished the diet plan – "to the letter, do you understand? And I expect you" – looking at Daniel now – "to keep an eye on him."

"Does she even know who you are?" Matt asked as they left. "I mean, you're the guy who survives on chocolate bars and coffee and about three hours' sleep. You're not the best person to watch someone on a strict controlled diet, are you?"

"I care about you," Daniel replied. "I want you to be okay. That makes me the best person in the facility, right?"

Matt looked at him, faintly surprised. "Good point."

"Why are you surprised by that?"

Matt shrugged awkwardly and looked at the floor, but kept walking.

He's surprised to find that someone actually cares about him. Oh god, Matt, what they put you through. Daniel sighed briefly and pushed the thoughts to one side.

"Come on. We've probably got time to grab something from the mess hall before General Hammond wants to see us."

Matt laughed. "You're taking this seriously?"

"Hey, I'm actually hungry. I haven't eaten since…" Daniel sighed. "Okay, maybe you were right in saying I'm not the best. But I'll try."

"Meh. Good enough for me," the younger man smiled.

"Ah! Matt – good. I need to speak to you in private before I brief SG-1," Hammond said, gesturing for Matt to sit down.

"Sir?"

"After what Doctor Jackson said about understaffing… well. You're the person with the greatest knowledge of alien cultures in this facility, and therefore someone who would be well-placed on the flagship team. To that end, I'm assigning you to SG-1. You'll be working with Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter and Teal'c. I believe you've already met," he commented, gesturing to the four people sat around the briefing room table. Jack waved, and then winced as his shoulder reminded him of what had happened earlier.

"Of course, you will be based on Earth whenever SG-1 is on stand-down. I realise that it takes time to adjust, and to find somewhere more permanent to stay. But for the moment, you're free to stay here if you need to." The general paused. "Have I missed anything out?"

"Don't think so, sir."

"Oh – one more thing. A word about regulations," Hammond added. "You're free to do what you like as far as your personal life goes, and I don't have any problems with it. But whatever happens, it gets left outside the mountain. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Matt nodded.

"Good. Dismissed."

He walked out of Hammond's office, biting his tongue in an effort not to just lose control. Daniel stood up and walked over, hugging him briefly.

"Welcome aboard," he laughed.

"You knew, didn't you?" Matt asked.

"We guessed. After Daniel's comments about understaffing when he came back from the mission – and General Hammond picking us to test you – we kind of assumed you'd be joining SG-1," Sam explained. She hugged him as well.

"Am I allowed to stay with you until I can get my own place?" Matt asked Daniel, as the others drifted out. Daniel shrugged.

"If you're staying with me, why do you need your own place?"