"I'm Lucy. I like bones."

The grin that accompanied this pronouncement drew a reflexive smile as Clay shook her hand. "Heya, Doc."

Dr. Lucy Kleinfelter was tall—at an even six feet, the tallest of his newly-reconstituted team—and only about five years older than Clay. She looked younger than that, even, but carried herself with an air of assurance that would serve her well both in the SGC and off-world. Beside her, Dr. Kyo Harada snickered, offering his own hand.

"I'm Kyo. I like ruins." His teeth flashed. "Extra points for cliff dwellings."

Their archaeologist was closer to Bender's age, and had already been involved in the SGC for several years—not on an off-world team, but with the data and artifacts brought back from other planets. Clay hadn't met him before, but Kyo was apparently familiar with Lucy from her field training days and had recommended her for the team. It was, Clay thought, probably a good thing that their two scientists already knew they worked well together. This was his second shot already—he didn't want to take his chances with yet another turnover.

"Corporal Clayton O'Rourke." Then, almost before he knew what was happening, he found himself offering information in kind. "I, uh, like old guns."

Kyo's smile widened. "I like old guns. What kind?"

It wasn't information Clay had ever really shared before—mostly because there had been no one who would have cared—and it felt strange to be exposing his odd little hobby to public scrutiny. "Uh, mostly mid to late 1800s, American old west type stuff. I have a Colt Paterson, a Remington, a couple of different type Derringers, a Springfield trapdoor. I almost had a—"

"Wait. You have these here?" Lucy had taken her seat and was chatting with General Hammond, but Kyo seemed genuinely excited by this possibility. Dr. Jackson, who had been setting up their first presentation at the front of the room, also looked around. Clay hesitated. It wasn't against regs that he knew of …

"Some of them."

"Nice! Can we take a look later?"

"Can I come?" Jackson added, settling into his own chair. "I haven't seen authentic Old West firearms since school."

This was … not how Clay had expected this meeting to go. He'd been anticipating sitting in the back of the room without much of anything to add …

"Sure, if you want." He shrugged. "I mean, after everything you guys have seen though …"

"We've got cool stuff too."

Their voices chorused so exactly that Clay suspected this must be a common refrain among the OSC (or 'Old-Shit Club', as some of the military boys had taken to calling the anthropologists, archaeologists, historians, and other related researchers attached to the SGC). He nodded, tentatively returning Kyo's grin.

"After supper, then."

"Great." Kyo clapped him on the shoulder and flopped into his own chair. Lucy looked around for Captain Bender, who had been watching the exchange from against the wall.

"Captain, what do you like?"

Bender quirked a half smile and came forward to join them. "I like not having to use my medical training on my team."

Well, that was fair.

Clay half expected the evening's plans to fall through, but 1930 hours found him in his quarters with his collection (such as it was) spread out on the bed, displaying each piece to Kyo, Dr. Jackson, and another archaeologist for whom he hadn't quite caught a name. Their enthusiasm for his old weapons was lively and genuine, their arguments over minor historical details that he didn't understand were friendly and loud, and he honestly didn't remember having such a stress-free evening in a long time.

A long time.

It was late when the three piled out into the hall, and Clay had barely shut the door when a brisk knock sounded on the other side. Thinking someone had left something behind, he was startled to find not one of his visitors but Captain Bender on the other side.

"Sir." Clay thought frantically, trying to remember if he had missed an appointment or had forgotten some duty for his new captain. "Can I help you, sir?"

Bender eyed him for a moment, then nodded once. "O'Roarke, you're going to be our weapons specialist. Teal'c is expecting you, starting tomorrow morning—learn everything about off-world weaponry that he's got to teach. Start with the current, but once you've got that down learn anything about past weaponry that he knows as well." He crooked a half-smile. "We are an OSC research team, after all."

He barely stopped himself from gaping in Bender's face. Clay wasn't used to being handed that kind of responsibility—he was just the extra gun. Still, he wasn't going to screw this up. If this was what his captain needed from him, he'd make sure it was done right.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, then. Night, O'Roarke."

"Good night, sir."

"One 'sir' a conversation will do, kid."

"Yes, s… Captain."

Bender smiled faintly, then disappeared down the hall. Clay shut the door, his head reeling. Nothing about this new SG-19, its people or its mission or its expectations of him, was anything like his last team had been. They would, it seemed, be in the spotlight with the general far more often than the old team had been. It was probably going to require a lot more personal interaction from him (nobody on the last team had been much of a talker). It was definitely going to be a lot more work.

He thought, though, that he could learn to like it.