Chapter 51: Touched by Intrigue

I'm very proud of you.

Things weren't magically perfect after that. There was still a level of awkwardness regarding everything that had happened. But Alex couldn't deny the warm glow that those words brought him. And he felt immature and young to put so much stock in someone being proud of him, but also didn't care at the same time.

Over the next several days, they had spent a few more hours at the range, bonding over what Dr. McKay liked to refer to as things that go boom. And if his little secret about reading fluent Ancient still hadn't made its way to McKay… well, he wasn't complaining.

The next two weeks almost lulled Alex into a sense of security. Oh, there were still plenty of things being shaken up by Ben's reign of terror on Trust associates, but the Marines had apparently had some sense beat into them – literally, by Ronon – about Alex's situation, and no one so much as looked twice in his direction anymore.

Things had calmed.

Which was why he should've been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Do prčic!" Alex bit off the curse as he flinched away from the sparking cable, before scowling in Dr. Z's direction. "Já… musím to dělání proč?"

Dr. Z crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Alex. "Proč to musím dělat." He gestured down at the frayed wires that had clearly seen better days before the invasion. "You must do. You break, you fix. Co rozbiješ, to opravíš."

Right. Because he was the one who had slashed around with a knife at the consoles. The worst he had done was patch into the relay under one of the consoles, but he certainly hadn't snapped any wires in the process.

And he knew well enough now that these auxiliary power lines had little influence on what was shown on the consoles – Atlantis had been more than willing to give that little bit of information up when he had gone searching.

He was probably going to have to come clean on his newfound understanding of Ancient soon…

Whatever the case – this was just an example of the engineering department finally having enough manpower to make some of the much-needed upgrades. And Alex was the lowest on the totem pole.

Never mind he had saved all their asses not three weeks earlier…

He coaxed the cable into the right position, then held out his hand for the clamp Dr. Z had been holding. "To je připravený... připravené."

That at least earned him a knowing smile. Dr. Z had decided that his language training had been woefully under represented in the past few months, so had taken to all but beating Czech into him. And when the man refused to speak English or any of the other languages that Alex was actually fluent in… it was fairly decent motivation. Not to mention that a handful of the other engineering minions had decided that Czech was the language of transactions – even if for many of them, their knowledge of the language didn't go much further than creative swears they had picked up.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Alex almost dropped the clamp, as the floor vibrated ever so slightly with the initial rumbles of the Stargate spinning up for activation.

Which definitely wasn't supposed to happen. That was the entire reason they were dealing with the cables now. If anything got screwed up, they would have plenty of time to fix things.

"No teams are currently out," Sheppard said, appearing with Ben not even a handful of seconds later. "An ally?"

Alex wiggled the clamps loose and stepped back from the console. Though he was sure the auxiliary lines didn't interact with the console, all bets were off once the Stargate was involved. The Ancients had built in some very strange power relays and he had no wish to find out the hard way that something was connected.

"Earth's IDC, sir," Chuck said, staring intently at his screen.

That was… unexpected. The next scheduled dial in was not for at least another week. And the energy resources it took on Earth's side to dial in were not insignificant. Oh, they could do it. But every time it was apparently risking a significant brown-out in the Colorado Springs and Denver region – where people were likely to get suspicious if it happened too many times.

The wormhole established with a woosh – and Alex wasn't sure that was ever going to get old – before there was a click on the intercom. "Atlantis, this is General Mitchell. We have a couple of… VIPs to send through to you. It should help with your little security problem." There was a short pause, before a quiet chuckle came across. "The IOA has been disbanded and the president sends his apologies."

There was a long pause as everyone seemed to stare at each other in disbelief, before Sheppard reached over to press the intercom. "Apologies for the VIPs, or…?"

"Oh, I think you'll appreciate these."

There seemed to be a lot that General Mitchell wasn't saying, but after a few hushed words with Ben, Sheppard pressed the intercom once more. "Alright, shield is coming down. Don't make me regret this, Cam."

The shield slid away and not a handful of seconds later, two figures stepped through.

Two familiar figures.

"—and last time you got kidnapped by those freaky Asgard imposters Danny, so excuse me if I don't feel comfortable letting you leave the galaxy unprotected this time." General O'Neill stopped short and grinned up at the welcoming committee on the balcony. "Hello campers! Figured this would be easier in person. And I wasn't about to let Danny back here unsupervised."

"General!" Sheppard seemed to almost stumble over himself for a moment, before sliding into perfect military posture. "Welcome back to Atlantis."

O'Neill looked around, before his gaze landed on Alex. If the man had seemed wily before, now he just seemed mischievous. "Colonel Sheppard, Director Daniels, it's nice to see you've managed to keep the place in one piece. Daniel here thinks he needs to conduct some urgent anthropological activities and we've got some updates on the earth-side investigation."

Alex raised an eyebrow at that. Dr. Jackson was an archeologist, not an anthropologist.

There was a long pause, before Sheppard once again leaned toward the mic. "Package received," he said, dryly.

"The General is officially on vacation, try to keep him in one piece." General Mitchell almost sounded cheery, and a moment later the gate shut off.

Sheppard smothered a snort, but Alex knew better. O'Neill could only mean one thing – something urgent had been discovered on Earth and it was sensitive enough that they weren't going to risk anyone coming across the information.

"You'd think being a general meant something around here." O'Neill muttered to Dr. Jackson, who just looked torn between amused and thrilled at being back in the city.

And well. If Alex was being truthful, he couldn't really see himself going back to Earth at this point either. Not for a long time, at least. There was far too much to see and do in the city. Better a prison here, than anywhere else.

"General, if you'd join us in the conference room?" Ben stepped in, clearly before it could devolve into a snark fest.

Which.

It truly was a different military establishment. Alex highly doubted that any of that would have flown with a different General.

Not to mention that was his grandfather.

Alex shuddered.

He didn't know what to do with a grandparent. Hardly knew what to do with an uncle and a father.

Dr. Z nudged him in the side. "Come. Power relay will finish later. You have history tutoring."

Alex sighed. It wasn't like he expected them to involve him at this point, but… He was going to have to satisfy his curiosity by seeing how much information he could wheedle out of McKay later – which was likely going to be very little.

Two days after the general and Dr. Jackson arrived, things seemed to finally settle in the city. It was as if General O'Neill's presence was enough to root out the last of the bad faith actors and spur the rest of the inhabitants to finally come out of the highest threat level.

The fact that Dr. Jackson had been all but submerged in some section of the Ancient database was enough to reassure the science contingent that things were returning to normal. With that, came all the reasons they shouldn't be going off of DEFCON 2 because apparently, Dr. Jackson was an alien abduction waiting to happen. Or the weird glowy ascension thing that no one wanted to happen. Again.

Alex had spent an evening reading all about that particular run in with radiation poisoning and had sworn to never play around with the radioactive isotopes that the radiobiologists had tried to use to tempt him toward biology. While biology was interesting and all, nothing could quite top everything he was learning about engineering and Ancient technology.

As it was, he was slogging through the backlog of history and political science that the more… social sciences were essentially forcing him into completing. McKay had grudgingly agreed that he needed a well-rounded education, but even Alex could see how little he thought about education in politics. No doubt the next thing would be some sort of mediated English course.

Maybe he could wrangle it into a scientific writing course. At least that would be relevant. Not that anything coming out of the city was likely to get published before declassification ever happened…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the oncoming migraine at the thought.

"Vlk is here." The note of amusement in Dr. Z's voice pulled Alex out of his political musing. Vlk literally translated to wolf which meant… Braxton. How those particular nicknames had spread, Alex wasn't sure.

It definitely wasn't published on the Atlantis local server anywhere.

He definitely didn't have anything to do with its appearance.

Braxton seemed mostly immune. Mostly. His only tell was a slight twitch in his jaw when he clenched too hard.

If Alex could get away with some light teasing without being in fear that they would kill him? He was going to milk it for all it was worth.

"Director Daniels wants to see you," Braxton said, muscle jumping ever so slightly. "Now."

Alex sighed, before closing out of the scanned book he was working his way through. "Greg's expecting me at dinner."

Braxton rolled his eyes, before giving Alex a nudge. "I'll be sure to let him know. Do you want me to update your social calendar too? I think there's a SAS unit that wants to kick your ass for the cold showers this morning."

"Oops?" To be fair, that had only sort of been his fault. Dr. Z had put all the controllers into Czech. His vocabulary was only so good. It had been an accident.

Mostly.

"Come on."

Ben was waiting for him in his office and waved Alex into a seat. He stared at him long and hard for a moment, before shaking his head and chuckling to himself. "You were on your best behavior the past four months, weren't you."

Alex sat back, not quite sure what to say. "Uh… yes?"

Ben tapped his tablet, before swiping through something. "And when did you become proficient in reading Ancient?"

Alex let his shoulders slump. Damn. "About a month ago."

"Yes… that looks about right." Ben continued his damned swiping. "You've really been all over the place." He peered at Alex for a moment, before smirking. "You didn't think your access was being monitored, did you?"

To think he had been in such a good mood. Alex shrugged. "Figured privileges would be taken away when they needed to be."

Ben sighed and pinched his nose. "Kid, this is how you get yourself into so many messes. Uh—you know what I'm talking about."

Alex bit back the retort that most of the recent messes hadn't been of his own making.

"The good news is your access was being monitored, so we know you were merely information seeking. You didn't wander into any of the restricted databases and respected boundaries when you happened upon them—"

"I'm not stupid."

"—but you also misled your mentors about where your true abilities lie. And that's doing yourself a disservice. Sheppard told me that when you came out here, all you wanted was to be a normal college student. You've definitely overshot that… but normal is overrated anyway." He folded his hands on his desk, finally putting the tablet down. "So, want to tell me what happened in the officer's showers this morning?"

Totally. Not. His. Fault. "That's on Dr. Z." Alex waved a hand encompassing everything. "Everything, and I mean everything, in the past week has been Czech this, Czech that. The computers, the switches, the directions. Everything."

Ben's lips twitched.

"Wait. You knew. Then why are you asking me!"

The man picked up a stack of papers, shuffled through them, then handed one over to Alex. "Here on Atlantis, we're always evaluating."

The paper was innocuous – rare as paper was on Atlantis.

But…

Beginner Czech I

Beginner Czech II

… satisfactorily completed the requirements for…

Alex glanced up at Ben. "I… passed?"

The man's smirk deepened. "Dr. Z made sure that if anyone was affected by the rerouting that was occurring this morning, they were informed in advance. If some people didn't pay attention to that warning…" Ben shrugged. "Their loss. But it was also rigged against you. When it went wrong, you were able to troubleshoot and evaluate the system before anything could happen. That you got Braxton and the others… well, icing on the cake."

"I don't know that they agree with that…" Alex muttered, still staring at the piece of paper. In four months, it was the only tangible evidence he had so far that he was still working his way toward his goals. It was even certified by the Air Force Institute of Technology. He tapped the seal. "This place exists, right?"

Ben chuckled. "It's real. Though they don't usually do undergraduate work, we have someone in one of their offices certifying things." He nodded toward the paper. "Expect to see a few more of those in the near future."

That seemed almost too good to be true.

Like many things recently.

"On that note," Ben stood up from his desk and waved a hand toward the door. "I think that's stalled enough for time. Let's celebrate."

Alex's nose wrinkled up. "Celebrate?" It was two courses. Certainly nothing to make a big deal about.

"You have no idea what the date on Earth is, do you?" Ben just shook his head, smile growing wider. "Can't believe any seventeen-year-old would forget his own birthday."

In Alex's defense, Earth dates had really lost all meaning since Christmas. But nonetheless, it was nice to have a very laid-back birthday celebration. It was a small group, nothing more than Sierra Squad and a handful of his close contacts in the science division. Even Ronon had showed up briefly, with threats that training was going to start up again soon. The newly released Pilkes – as in, in the past two hours – had slotted back in, as if nothing had changed whatsoever.

There were so many questions Alex had about that, but it wasn't the venue.

Whoever was in charge of the mess had pulled out all the stops though – a classic Victoria sponge with raspberry jam. Alex had a suspicion that someone had put in a special order for the raspberry jam and that O'Neill's timing was only slightly coincidental. The celebration doubled as a welcome back party for Pilkes and by the end of it, it almost felt as if nothing had changed.

"Run in the morning?" Pilkes asked, as his underlings were attempting to drag him from the room – for a quasi-legal celebration of their own.

Alex hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Sure."

It was an olive branch.

Nothing had actually changed. There was just more to the story than any of them had realized. And though he doubted he would be able to get much out of Pilkes in the morning – especially if Braxton was going to insist on following him – it would be good to get some things back to normal.

Greg shot him a grin on his way out. There was definitely going to be unsanctioned drinking going on.

"Right, looks like this shindig is over." O'Neill appeared in the doorway, as if he had been waiting for all the enlisted to disappear. He pointed at Alex. "You're with me." He cast a glance at the handful of gifts that were splayed out over the table – a box full of snacks, a multi-tool, a collection of chocolate covered coffee beans – before turning to Braxton. "I'm sure the captain can get your gifts to your room."

Alex blinked, but it was a tone that brokered no argument. "Okay…"

O'Neill grinned at him. "So, do you fish?"

Alex wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up on the end of one of the furthest piers without one of his faithful bodyguards. But it seemed that no one dared argue with a general – who was supposedly on vacation – about what was and wasn't allowed on Atlantis. They had passed a few Marines here and there, though all had jumped to attention the moment O'Neill stepped into view.

It was almost amusing.

No one seemed to question that Alex was with him.

The sun had long since slipped below the horizon, casting the vast ocean into shades of deep indigo and black. Seeming to stretch forever.

He had never been out this far, this late at night.

Light sconces dotted the walls of the city, but out here, one the edge of the pier, the shadows grew deeper, swallowing up the light and stretching into an endless void. The only illumination was the light cast by the two moons. It was almost eerie, but also oddly peaceful.

At the very end of the pier, two lawn chairs and a pair of fishing rods waited, almost as if the whole thing had been planned. It likely had.

In the two days since O'Neill had arrived, Alex knew there was nothing the man did without carefully calculating it first.

O'Neill set down the tackle box next to one of the chairs, before taking a seat. He motioned for Alex to do the same.

"So, never fished. What did your uncle teach you about survival skills?" O'Neill asked, eyeing him as Alex settled awkwardly into the chair.

Alex shrugged. "Most people don't usually carry around fishing rods."

O'Neill chuckled, before reaching over the ledge and prying off a barnacle. The ripple it made at it hit the water did double duty. "True enough." He held out one of the fishing rods, smirking when Alex hesitated to take it. "It's not going to bite. You'll have to ask Sergeant Pilkes about spearfishing. But this… you never know when you might find yourself somewhere a little… less alien and need to know how to catch your own dinner."

He opened the tackle box, pulling out a small shiny lure, which he quickly fastened to his own line.

"Here, grab a lure."

Alex picked one out – though he had little idea why one would be better than another – and attempted to attach it by copying O'Neill. It was less than elegant, but the lure was securely in place and held up to O'Neill's inspection.

"Good enough," O'Neill said, casting his line out with a smooth flick of the wrist. "Now you try. And remember – it's all in the wrist."

All in the wrist.

And easier said than done.

It took a couple tries to complete satisfactorily, but Alex managed to cast his line out, the lure plunking into the water. He sat back, half expecting something to happen immediately. There were plenty of fish around Atlantis – that was clear based on how frequently the mess had fish for dinner.

Surely it wouldn't be too long.

But O'Neill was already settling back in his chair with a sigh, looking mightily pleased with himself. "There. Now comes the part you're really going to love," he said, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Which is?

"Patience, kid. Now we wait."

Alex let out a quiet breath, looking out over the water. The darkness stretched out in front of him, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself feeling strangely at peace.

Like he had finally crested some battle. And maybe things were going to get better.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Just the soft lapping of the waves. The weight of everything that had brought him here – the people, the places, the fights – seemed so far away.

O'Neill broke the silence with a question, his voice casual but tinged with something more. "Any idea why they sent me all the way out here?"

He had a few guesses. Sending the man on a vacation was pretty transparent. Especially since Pilkes had been released that same day. And Dr. Jackson had been buried in the database. "Vetting people?"

O'Neill chuckled. "You have no idea. Sergeant Pilkes is an utter mess, but it seems we have quite the responsibility in creating that mess in the first place. But, no. That's only part of it." He ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking far older than the visage he usually presented. "There've been some hard truths we've all had to face in the past couple months. Awkward ones. Ones that really shouldn't see the light of day."

Alex snorted. And here they were, out on the pier in the middle of the night.

"And I've read plenty of reports, giving me a fairly good idea of what is actually going on in this little city." O'Neill glanced over at him, his face falling serious. "I've seen what happens when things go sideways with family."

Alex froze.

So this was one of those conversations.

"When Charlie was around, I was… well, I wasn't exactly the best at being a father. And I'm not proud of that." He paused, eyes flicking over the water. "But now I'm here and I don't want you to push away the family you have left. Whether you like it or not, you're my… grandson."

Alex blinked, his pulse stuttering slightly at the word. Grandfather, yes. Grandson… that was completely different.

O'Neill cleared his throat. "I'm not saying this to make you feel some type of way. But I think you deserve someone who's not just going to tell you what to do all the time. You've had enough of that. And I'll be damned if I let this mess up, like I did with Charlie." He tried for a smirk. "Even if you just need to rant about Sheppard being unreasonable about letting you off world."

Alex almost rolled his eyes, the levity a small relief. But O'Neill's words lingered, something deeper settling inside him. "Is it terrible that I finally feel safe?" The question slipped out before he had really thought it through.

"Terrible?" O'Neill repeated, a quirk to his lips. "Nah, I'd say it's a pretty damn good thing. Though, if you're expecting a medal for it, you might be disappointed."

Alex huffed a quiet laugh. The word safe felt foreign on his tongue. The nightmares were still there, near constant companions of what could have been, what should have been. There were still people who wanted him dead. Still a whole web of people pulling strings, trying to dictate his life. And yet…

It almost felt like hope. A terrifying thing to feel, but there it was, quietly budding inside of him.

For once in his life, he wasn't on his own. There were others that were going to fight just as hard as he did.

O'Neill turned to gaze out at the water pensively. "The thing is, people like us… well, we don't get too many chances to be normal."

Alex startled at being lumped in with the us. Because he had very much been other for years.

"Once your life is touched by intrigue, it never stops. So, you make the most of it. Make the most of opportunities to just sit back, relax, and—"

"Fish?"

"See, I knew there was a reason I liked you." O'Neill cracked a grin, tugging gently on the fishing rod. "And that's why we're out here fishing at night in an alien city, on an alien plant, in a galaxy far, far away instead of… I don't know, sitting around a barbecue back on earth."

"Right." Alex snorted. "Perfectly normal."

"The picture of sanity." He leaned back, reeling the lure in slowly, before recasting. "Besides, if I really wanted normal, I wouldn't be on Atlantis. And the fishing here is excellent."

Alex raised an eyebrow at that. "We haven't caught anything."

"Exactly." O'Neill leaned back in his chair. "Now, kid, I head you've been reading up on SG-1's greatest hits. But let me tell you what didn't make it into those reports…" He glanced at Alex with a mischievous glint in his eye. "The things someone thought might be best left out."

"Oh?"

O'Neill's voice dropped conspiratorially. "Did you read about the time loop? For starters, there's no record of how many loops we actually went through – hundreds, maybe even thousands. Time starts to get a little… fuzzy, when you're repeating the same day for weeks on end…"

Alex leaned back in his chair, feeling the bob of the lure on the waves, listening to O'Neill spin his surely tall tales. Maybe, just maybe, he could let go – a least a little – and start to imagine what life could be, if he allowed himself to feel safe.

A/N: Well. We've got bonding galore. This is just turning into a bond fest. But seriously, we had to get Alex to a better space. Two more chapters. I think. But I'm starting to get my motivation to write back, so maybe… no promises… the sequel will still have a chance at existing. I'm going to do my best.