When Elle woke up, it was 0545 standard time. "Space lag," she groaned and rolled over. "Too early." But she was wide awake, and she was hungry. By the time she dragged herself through her shower, she decided she needed at least one thing: a music player. Not having access to the Enterprise library to play 5,000 years of 400 planets' worth of music was killing the vibe. "Never mind the clothes," Elle muttered. She tied her hair up in a braid and ventured outside her quarters. There was no guard outside her door. Which way was the mess hall?

She got turned around twice but eventually arrived at the mess hall. Everyone stared again, but more people were quick to go back to their business. Elle grabbed some pancakes and a cup of coffee. She sat down at a table in the corner and applied herself to her food.

One of the guys, a lieutenant colonel, approached the table with his tray. "Hey," the man said, nodding at her. "I'm Lou Ferreti. Can I sit?"

"Sure," Elle said warily. "You were with SG1 on the first mission, yes?"

"Yes," he said. "Now I'm team leader, SG2." He gave her a brief smile. "The colonel briefed me on your status. What a trip, huh? How are you?"

Elle smiled. "I'm okay," she said. "I only got lost twice this morning."

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. "Base is like a maze."

Elle took a sip of coffee and grimaced.

"Yeah," Ferreti said. "When Jakes makes it, it's good. Everyone else," he waved a hand. "You're better off going to bug the docs and tryin' to get a cup of the good stuff."

"Sickbay?" Elle asked.

Ferreti laughed. "No, Dr. Jackson and the other civilian scientists. They buy their own coffee."

"Ah." Elle sighed in relief. "Good. The coffee on," She stuttered, "uhh, my ship, was made to individual tastes."

He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. "I gotcha. That must have been incredible, huh? Every time we're in a ship, we're fightin' for our lives. We don't have time to enjoy it. What's it like?"

"Incredible," Elle echoed with a grin. Her smile faded. "I miss it."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you've got some time before you can go off-base, but can we get you anything in the meantime? Delivery service?"

"Actually," said a new voice, and Sgt. Harriman came up and dropped a stack of papers next to Elle's tray. "Paperwork and ID are in. You just have to sign, and then you can go off-base."

"Walter, the miracle worker," Ferreti said, grinning. "Did you even sleep?"

Walter just grinned. "You can bring the papers back when you're done," he said and walked away.

"So much paperwork," Elle said, grabbing the pen before it rolled off the table. She shoved her empty tray away and pulled the papers closer. "Elle Wilcott, born August 1981. Whoa. That's crazy."

"Wrong birthdate?" Ferreti asked.

"Try 2005," Elle replied.

He gaped at her. "Wow."

"Yeah." She stared at the date for a long time. It was two days after her mother's actual birthdate. Somewhere in another universe, she and her mother were the exact same age. She shook that thought off and kept going through the papers. "Hang on, double majors in mechanical engineering and linguistics? I never went to college."

"You have a 24th-century education," Sam said, approaching the table, tray in hand. "We figured that covered all your bases without being suspicious. The colonel wanted to give you another degree in theoretical astrophysics, but we can do that in a year or two."

"Ahh, forgery," Elle said lightly and signed off on her cover story.

"Didn't you have a cover ID in the future?" Ferreti asked.

"No," Elle said. "Being a time traveler isn't a big deal where I'm from. Well, the alternate universe bit was. That was classified."

"So is most of your file here," Sam said. "This is just your public ID."

As Sam and Ferreti chatted, Elle signed her new life into place, signed a contract with the Air Force as a civilian mission consultant to the SGC, known as the "Deep Space Telemetry Project," and signed bank accounts, insurance plans, and social security plans into existence. "Money," Elle muttered. "Gross." She held out the payroll form to Sam. "Is this, like, a lot? A little bit? Can I live on that or do I need to publish a sci-fi book or something for passive income?"

The two adults blinked at her.

"I'm from the future," Elle reminded them. "We don't use money to live. I don't have a concept of scale."

Sam took the paper. "Yeah, you're good," she said, scanning it. "This is about what Daniel gets, and he has a house, a car, he can afford to buy stuff that he wants. You just need to make a budget."

Elle sighed. "Right. I don't suppose you guys have an 'Earth 101' course?"

"Nope," Ferreti said apologetically. "We should, though. Hey, you and Daniel can work on that."

"Don't think I won't," Elle muttered. "I'm not the only one who's going to have to get a new life."

"Is that a, what's it called, a spoiler?" Ferreti asked, interested.

"Yes," Elle said. "Though with the chaos you guys are sowing, you can't imagine there won't be consequences."

"Trust me, we know," Sam said, wrinkling her nose.

By the time Jack and Daniel came in and finished their breakfasts, Elle was done with all her paperwork. "Where do I submit this?" she asked.

"I'll walk you," Daniel offered.

They went up to Sgt Harriman's office. General Hammond was there, talking to him. "Miss Wilcott," Hammond said. "Papers all filled out?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Elle glanced at Walter. "Thanks," she said. "That was a lot. I think I signed everything."

Walter flipped through it. "You got it all," he agreed.

Hammond nodded. "You're free to leave the base," he said. He glanced at Daniel. "Have fun," he said. "Don't let Captain Carter drive her."

Daniel coughed a laugh, and his eyes twinkled. "Yes, sir. We'll behave." He put an arm around Elle's shoulders and steered her out.

"Why not Sam?" Elle asked.

"Uh, her nickname is Captain Leadfoot," Daniel said.

Elle grinned. "Oh. Nice."

They met the others at the elevator. Teal'c was wearing a beanie to cover the gold mark on his forehead. It was just as funny in person as on TV. Elle concentrated on staring at her shoes as they went up the mountain to avoid laughing. They got out, signed out of the SGC base at a checkpoint, and got into another elevator going up again. "This is NORAD," Jack murmured. "We sign out of the mountain with everyone else. Look casual."

"Sure," Elle said dryly.

They got out of the elevator and signed out of Cheyenne Mountain. They exited double doors into a parking lot.

The fresh mountain air hit Elle like a truck. She sighed and tilted her face up to the sun. "Sunlight," she said. "I haven't felt the sun on my face since..." She wrinkled her nose. "Since the Borg. Ugh. Except we were in France. And then Georgia." She shivered as the breeze hit her arms.

"You're gonna need a good jacket," Jack said, steering her towards a pickup truck. "It gets cold here. Daniel, you and Teal'c want to get pizzas and drinks and meet us at my house? Sam, meet us at the store?" Everyone split off, and Jack gestured to the truck. "Go ahead. The door's unlocked."

She hopped into the passenger seat and frowned. "Hm."

"What?" he asked, sliding into the driver's seat. He turned the car on.

"I've never been in the front seat before," she realized.

He turned to look at her. "What."

"Yeah. The last time I was in a car, I was still too short for the front seat up here."

O'Neill grimaced. "Ah. Well." He gave her a grin. "Welcome to the front seat. It's the copilot's job to hand over snacks, water, and navigate. As I know where I'm going, and we don't have food in the car, your job is to enjoy the scenery. Put your seatbelt on."

"Seatbelt," Elle said, twisting around to find it. "Right. Those are a thing."

"You don't have seatbelts in space?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"No. Well, yes. Safety harnesses and stuff. But we don't wear them unless there are extreme circumstances because the inertial dampeners do such a good job. You know, I never actually went into the ha'tak itself, just the palace. Do Goa'uld have seatbelts?"

"No," Jack said. "Idiots."

Elle laughed. "Guess it doesn't really go with the gold lacquer."

"Not really. They're picky about their interior decorating." He hesitated for a second and then said, "Listen, you've been in a closed environment for the last few years. Do we have to talk about confidentiality in a public place?"

Elle sobered. "No, sir. I've interacted with civilians enough. I know how to keep classified information out of the conversation."

"Good. And for the record, Teal'c's earth name is Murray, and Junior is, well, you know."

Elle laughed. "Yes, I know."

"Right." He made another face. "It's weird that you know all about us."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Not your fault," he replied. "It's our captivating personalities. Of course, you were interested in our TV show."

Elle laughed. "That's pretty much the truth, Colonel. I saw your show when I was little. It was on re-runs, and we had Hulu. And as a version of it existed in the Enterprise's databanks, I watched the whole thing twice. A lot of situations you guys ran into, we ran into."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like," Elle bit her lip, thinking. "False gods. We had those, too. More Greek and Roman god wannabes, though."

"Gross," he said agreeably.

"Right?" Elle grinned. "And you and I are in the same club."

"Are we?" he asked. "You didn't tell me you were a Simpsons fan."

She laughed. "No. We're in the 'Head-suckered by ancient technology and built a portal' Club."

He twisted to look at her. "You're kidding."

"Nope. I got whammied by a probe that was sent to restructure computers for first contact. Had it all for four days, then they removed the information."

"You didn't keep any of it?" he asked.

Elle shook her head, thinking of those intense, tiring days. "Flashes, here and there. And I understand 27-dimensional theory much better," Elle said. "And I learned the piano."

"Oh. Nice." He wrinkled his nose. "I don't remember any of it. Thankfully."

Elle watched the scenery pass by. It was a beautiful, winding mountain road, gradually descending towards a city. She took a deep breath. "This is Colorado, right?" she asked. "Are we at a high altitude?"

"Yeah. Are your lungs doing okay?"

"Uh. I should be okay." Elle took another experimental deep breath. "Yeah."

"Okay. Let me know if you don't feel good. Going from an environment of 0 feet to 9 thousand is a stretch. And you're gonna want to stay hydrated. We'll get you a good moisturizer."

"Okay." Elle smiled faintly. His protective instincts were alive and well. "Sir?"

"Just call me Jack, kiddo. Like Daniel says, you're a civilian, and you don't have to 'sir' anybody."

"Yes, sir," Elle said immediately.

"Brat," he grumbled, grinning.

"Jack," she started again, earning herself a pleased smile, "how long do you think it'll be before I can have a little more independence here?"

"Why?" he asked.

"Well." She bit her lip. "I don't mind staying at the mountain. It's a lot like living on a starship. But, since it's Earth, I'd like to get out a little more. Cafes. Bookstores. Parks." She smiled wistfully out the window. "Bones was always after me about getting some natural sunlight."

"I hear that. We could all use a little more sunlight." He caught her eye and smiled. "Maybe you could get an apartment, get a dog."

Elle smiled and felt it turn wobbly. "I have a tribble," she said. "Simba. And Simba the Third."

"Tribble," O'Neill echoed. "Those round puffballs that bred like rabbits?"

She grinned. "So you had that episode here, then? Yeah. A tribble. Could stuff her in my pocket and wield her like a therapy pet."

"Hm. Maybe we should get an SGC mascot."

Elle grinned. "An Egyptian mau for Daniel's office?"

"Not a cat," O'Neill protested. "A little dog. More cheerful. More apt to cuddle."

"I've never had a dog," Elle said. "We always had ship's cats and fish. Hamsters. Tribbles. Small stuff. Didn't have the space for larger animals."

He snorted in amusement and pointed down a street. "Carter's house is down that way." They drove a couple more minutes, and he added, "My house is down that way. And Daniel's is that way."

"Cool."

They pulled up to the Walmart and found Sam waiting for them at the entrance.

"Feet made of lead, Carter?" was Jack's greeting.

"Only a little, sir." Carter tugged Elle into the warm store. "Come on. I've made a list."

"Oh no," Elle said upon seeing the clothing racks. "It's 1999." She grimaced at the clothes. "Thank the Great Bird I arrived before the waistlines dropped to the butt."

Sam laughed. "What?"

"I know what the early 2000s are gonna look like, and it ain't gonna be pretty." Elle touched the baggy shirts. "Although I can get behind the practicality of the baggy look. I don't like any of this. Oh no, the fit. There's no stretch. Oh, I cannot with this."

Sam and Jack were absolutely no help. They just stood there and laughed at her. "When in Rome," Jack finally said.

Elle heaved a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

He grinned at Carter. "They grow so fast. One minute they're calling you sir, now they're giving you the whatever."

"Teens these days," Sam said, straight-faced.

Elle, very maturely, made a face at them. She turned away to start picking out clothes. "Capsule wardrobe is the name of the game," she mused.

"Need any help?" Jack asked.

"Weather-appropriate coat and boots?" Elle asked. "I don't care what they look like."

"Can do," Jack said and walked off to outer gear.

"More importantly," Elle said, looking at Sam, "I'm gonna need help picking out bras and underwear. They are not like they are in the future."

"How are they different?" Sam asked.

"More practical, for one," Elle said, wrinkling her nose.

Sam laughed. "Come on. I'll help you."

-/\-

By the time they met back at the registers, Elle and Sam had a cart full of clothing. Jack had another cart full of... a winter coat, a pair of hiking boots, sneakers, slippers, two scarves, two beanies, and things that were distinctly not clothing. A Nintendo system, a handful of games, a couple of candles, and a CD Walkman.

"The essentials," Jack said.

"Thanks."

The checkout process was interesting. "You movin' out?" the cashier asked Elle.

"Moving in, actually," Elle said dryly, and Jack sniggered.

They put everything in Jack's truck and headed to his house. Nice place. Enough room for house parties. Daniel and Teal'c were already there, setting out plates and making a salad. "How dare you disrespect my house with vegetables," Jack said, wrinkling his nose.

"It's called cholesterol, Jack," Daniel replied, completely at ease.

"C'mon, Elle. You can run your stuff through the washer and dryer," Jack said. "Let me give you a tour and show you the spare room."

"Are you sure this isn't Daniel's house?" Elle asked, looking at all the books in the spare room and the little clay statue on the side table.

Jack huffed a laugh. "It's any one of them's room at any given time. And yours. Whoever shows up first gets the spare room, and whoever shows up second gets the couch. Them's the rules."

"Good to know," Elle said, warmed by the invitation.

He showed her how to run the washer and dryer, and they went back downstairs.

The pizza was good. Elle pulled another slice onto her plate and contemplated the grease. There were no advanced medical facilities to fix health problems. She was going to have to take care of herself.

"What did that pepperoni do to you?" Jack asked.

"Reminded me that all the food I eat is not going to be perfectly nutritionally balanced anymore," Elle replied with a sigh. "Need to build a macros diet."

"So you haven't eaten junk food in like six years?" Daniel asked. "Is your stomach going to hurt from eating this?"

"No. We had real food, too. It was just rare. You had to go find someone with clearance to use the stove." Elle wrinkled her nose, grinning. "Captain Picard, yes. Dr. Crusher, not under any circumstances."

"Can you cook?" Sam asked.

"Uhhhhh, kind of? I can make pancakes. And muffins. And croissants. And eclairs. And pain au chocolat. And beignets." Elle laughed at the looks on their faces. "Okay, I can't cook. I can bake, though. Marie Picard taught me when I was staying with them in France."

"What is a beignet?" Teal'c asked.

"I'll make you some," Elle said. "They're pretty easy." She took a bite of salad. "Do you guys cook?"

Jack made a so-so motion with his hand. "Mostly, I grill. I can do breakfast foods, which these guys take full advantage of."

"His omelets are great," Daniel agreed. "I can cook, but the things I like making are hard to find ingredients for here."

It was 1999. Elle imagined that ethnic supermarkets were not on every strip like they would be in twenty years.

"I do not cook," Teal'c said. "There is rarely opportunity."

"Me either," Sam said.

"Correction," Daniel said, lifting his fork to point at her, "You are not allowed to cook."

"That was one time," Sam complained.

"You gave our position away to the enemy," Daniel retorted.

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned. "It was most... eyecatching."

Elle stifled a smile in her napkin as they argued about whose fault it was the "chicken" had caught on fire (it was definitely Sam.)

Jack shot her a grin. "We might be crazy, but we're fun," he said. "Who wants ice cream?"

With ice cream, they moved to the living room and the TV. Elle gaped at the TV for a moment and went over to it. Jack was flipping through the channels. She reached out and touched the TV screen. It staticked. "Wow! My grandma had one of these," she said. "These are like, you can hear it." She pressed her ear to the side of the box. "Wowww."

"You don't have TV in the future?" Jack asked dryly.

"No," Elle said. "We have flat screens built into the walls. And the chunky ones from the 23rd century are holographic tanks, not 2D imagers." She tapped at the hard glass of the TV experimentally. "Even in my house, my parents had a flatscreen all the time. Maybe when I was a baby, we had one of these."

"Okay, stop tapping it," Jack said, waving her over. He dumped a blanket on her lap. "What do you know about hockey?"

"Commander Riker is from Alaska," Elle said.

"Great," Jack said. "So you know the basics. This team..."

Daniel and Sam let out identical sighs.

"Just watch," Jack said and glared at Daniel.

The archaeologist shot him an innocent smile and took a sip of beer.

During the commercial break, Teal'c and Sam got up to go rummage through the kitchen for popcorn and chips. "Bring the bag of Skittles," Jack hollered into the kitchen.

"Yes, sir," Sam called back.

Elle smiled at the feeling of camaraderie. I'm never gonna hear the crew tease Captain Picard ever again, she realized, and tears welled in her eyes.

Daniel leaned over and pressed his shoulder against hers in silent support.

Elle bit down on a full-on sob and started crying. "Sorry," she said, pressing her hands over her face.

"It's okay," he whispered, pressing a tissue into her hand. "Everyone has their mental breakdowns on this couch."

"Not many opportunities to cry off-world," Jack agreed, gently sliding the tissue box closer to her. "I'll go put on some water for tea." He left the room.

"Sorry," Elle said again, unable to stop the flood of tears.

"Don't apologize," Daniel said kindly. "You've been very brave."

She cried a little bit more and finally drew in a final shuddering breath.

"You okay?" Daniel asked, his tone gentle and free of judgment.

"Yeah," Elle said and sniffed. "I'm gonna, uh, go wash my face." She wiped at her traitorous eyes, which kept leaking little tears, and slipped out of the living room. Thankfully, the rest of SG1 was still in the kitchen, having an involved discussion about the merits of chamomile versus decaf English Breakfast.

She blew her nose, washed her face, and patted a damp towel on her eyes in a vain attempt to depuff them. It's not like you weren't expecting this, she told her red-eyed reflection. You're finally safe. You're with people you can trust. You're fine. You need to grieve, to feel those emotions. You know how to do this. This is your fourth time readjusting. Your third time grieving. You can do this. But have the breakdowns on your own time, okay?

Her reflection did not look super convinced.

Shut up, Elle said. She toyed with the hand towel. Would it be more embarrassing to hide in the bathroom or go back out to the living room? Heaven forbid someone come to check on her. She opened the door and started down the hallway. She slowed down as she heard voices.

"-purpose of debating about tea?" Teal'c was saying.

"Oh, I was distracting you. Elle was in there crying," Jack said.

"She okay?" Sam asked, sounding concerned.

"She'll be okay. I'm just glad she felt comfortable enough with us to break down."

"Indeed," Teal'c said. "Her loss must be properly honored with grief."

Elle almost started crying again at those words, but she pushed the emotion back.

"She's coming back," Jack warned, and the volume on the TV turned up. "Where's that other mug?"

Elle chose this as a good moment to walk back into the living room. Thankfully, no one turned to look at her. They'd shuffled positions on the couch, leaving her an empty space in between Sam and Daniel, arguably the two most comforting presences on the team. "What'd I miss?" she asked, accepting the cup of tea and bowl of popcorn.

"Our team's up two points," Daniel said easily.

They watched the game and threw popcorn when their team, the red and white ones, lost. They then picked up the living room. Sam and Teal'c went home. Daniel stretched out on the couch and almost immediately fell asleep, his glasses still on.

"Every time," Jack said, shaking his head. "Just leave him. He'll take 'em off in his sleep." He gestured to the kitchen. "I'm gonna start the dishwasher. You remember where everything is?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good night." He looked back at her. "Hey. If you need anything, you can wake me or Daniel up, okay? I mean it."

Elle gave him a little smile. "Thank you. 'Night."

He nodded. "Get some rest."

Elle brushed her teeth, changed into her new pajamas, and went to bed. Besides the faint sounds of Jack moving around down the hall, it was quiet. No quiet chorus of breathing from two dozen girls. No warp engine sounds. "I might need a white noise machine," she realized, and before she could contemplate if those existed in 1999, she was asleep.

-/\-

"Never mind," was Elle's thought upon waking up with the sun in her eyes and the smell of coffee wafting through the air. "White noise machine whomst?" She rolled groggily out of bed and stretched. She contemplated changing out of pajamas, but all her clothes were still in the dryer. Never mind, then. She wrapped the throw blanket around her shoulders and shuffled out to the bathroom.

Morning routine accomplished and hair somewhat put into order, Elle shuffled her way downstairs. It was mid-morning, but it seemed like the other two members of SG1 had also gotten a slow start. Elle wondered how many slow days the team was able to have. She walked into the kitchen, and to her surprise, Sam and Teal'c were also there. Daniel was still in pajamas, apparently having a telepathic conversation with his cup of coffee, but Jack was dressed for a casual day and was cooking omelets at the stove.

"G'morning," Elle said, stifling a yawn.

Sam smiled at her. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

"I wanna say, like the dead, but I feel that would be impolitic," Elle said, shuffling over to the coffee pot. "So I will simply say 'great.'"

"It's your deaths, you can joke about 'em if you want," Jack said. "Sugar and milk on the table."

Elle contemplated the bleached white refined sugar on the table. "Ah," she said. "Yeah." She put some in her coffee, anyway. She had a feeling the whole fighting aliens thing would kill her long before the consumption of toxic chemicals. She added a splash of milk, took a sip of her coffee, and sighed. "Nice."

"You wake up pretty coherent, huh?" Sam asked.

"Well, sometimes." Elle gestured to Daniel with her chin. "If it's really early, I look like him."

Daniel dragged his gaze away from his cup of coffee, squinted at her, and went back to his coffee. He took a deep gulp of it and sighed, blinking. "I think I've just been insulted," he mumbled.

"Never," Elle said in delight.

Jack put down a pan full of vegetable bacon omelet. "Meal's up." He ruffled Daniel's hair. "You alive in there, Danny?"

Daniel responded with a scathing insult in Russian.

Elle laughed.

Daniel's head snapped up, expression tinging toward embarrassment. "Right, you can understand that."

"Yeah, Daniel, don't swear around the baby," Sam said.

Elle's jaw dropped. "Hey!"

They all laughed, and even Teal'c's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Kidding, just kidding," Sam amended, passing her the plate.

Elle shook her head, grinning.

They ate in genial camaraderie, taking turns telling Elle what there was to do around Colorado Springs and how things worked in a base town. "Once you're up to it, you have boatloads of orientation to go through before you start doing anything," Jack said.

"Ah, orientation," Elle said dryly. "With how many times I've done it, I'm sure it'll be fine." She started ticking off the categories on her fingers. "Layout of the base. Protocols for civilians in every situation. Hierarchy and rank primers. General background and history of the program. Medical baseline testing. Psychological baseline. Physical fitness testing and placement into a regimen. Biometric readings. And the unofficial introduction to the head of the rumor mill, who I'm going to assume is Walter. Or Ferreti."

"That's actually more than we have," Jack said after a startled second. "What was that other one? Psychological baseline?"

"Biometric readings?" Sam added.

"Yeah, every time you come back to the ship, er, base, your biometrics are compared to your baseline in case of infection, or mind control, or body-swapping," Elle said. "You don't have that?"

"Not yet," Sam said, grabbing a napkin and a pen.

"Psychological baseline?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah," Elle said. "Where are the counselors, anyway? I would've thought one would've gotten to me by now."

"Like, guidance counselor?" Sam asked, looking up from her napkin of scribbled ideas.

Elle frowned. "No, like, therapists? You know, psychologists?"

"You're a little young to be taking medication," was what Jack said, frowning at her.

Elle stared at them. "What?"

"The only person we've got is McKinley, but he's an idiot," Jack added.

Elle was violently reminded this was 1999. "You don't have anybody," she said, stifling a laugh of disbelief. "Nobody specialized in trauma-informed therapy?"

"No," Jack said, his frown now one of authority. "Should we?"

Elle couldn't stop her almost hysterical laugh this time. "Your entire base goes through wormholes to fight aliens and free slaves on a daily basis and keeps the secret from the entire world. Yes! You should have at least ten people on staff, or you're all going to die of stress five years after you all retire if the PTSD doesn't get y'all off-world. And what about all the people you're going to rescue? They're gonna need help, too."

"That's a lot of shrinks," was all Jack said. "How many did you have on the Enterprise?"

"Ten dedicated counselors, plus every member of medical was certified in some form of therapy," Elle said. "But we were a floating city. We didn't have a constant connection to planets with therapists like you do."

"Washington would never approve it," Jack said after a second.

Elle scowled. "Well, that's one thing we're changing straight off."

"What kind of scanners do you use?" Sam asked, lifting her head again. "For the biometrics."

"Active particle scanner," Elle said.

"And what do you do if someone does flag the system?" Sam asked.

"They're transported to an isolation room," Elle said. "By the way, you should really clear the gate room before you open the stargate. Having that many extra people in there is a hazard."

"That is something we can discuss on the base," Jack said. "No more shop talk." He stood up and took his plate to the sink.

Elle put her dishes in the dishwasher and then went upstairs to pack up all her stuff. She could stay here. Jack had offered. But... no. This planet was too new. Elle wanted to be at the mountain base to get to know the place and its people. And she really needed to get a hold of where she was in the series. That could only be done on base. She stuffed her clothes in the duffel bag and zipped it.

Daniel rode back with her and Jack. Elle sat in the back seat and watched the scenery pass by as the two men murmured about 'duty assignments' and 'updating protocols.' Seeing the outside of the mountain base in the daylight was more impressive and slightly scary. Star Fleet was not that overt about the guns and the guards.

-/\-

Signing in to the mountain took an age and a half. Since she didn't have a valid ID card, Colonel O'Neill had to vouch for her. This involved phone calls to General Hammond, and everyone at NORAD who was going in or out stared at them curiously.

"Just ignore them," Daniel said, putting his hands in his pockets as they waited.

"Easy for you to say," Elle said. "You don't look like a teenager."

"You are a teenager," Daniel replied placidly. "It'd be weird if you didn't look like one." He shifted to stand in front of her. He was tall, a good six feet, so he really did block the vision of passersby. "They can get your badge printed today, and it'll be fine."

"You had to deal with this, too?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," he said, giving her a grin. "I was legally missing, you know. Hassle and a half to get anything done until everything was finalized."

"Paperwork," Elle muttered.

"Paperwork," he agreed.

Jack walked over to them. "All right, campers. We're good to go. Someone finally figured out how to read around here." He gave Elle a paper ID with a barcode on it. "For the second elevator," he said.

They shuffled past the checkpoint and got in the elevator. One more checkpoint and another elevator later, they were in the SGC itself. "What a commute," Elle said, shaking her head.

"You get used to it," Daniel said and added teasingly, "Easier if you don't leave the mountain."

They dropped all the duffel bags in Elle's room. "Do you want to unpack, or do you want to wander around?" Jack asked.

"I want to figure out where we are in the stream of time," Elle said.

Jack blinked at her. "Great. How are you gonna figure that out?"

"Mission reports," she said. "I need to know what's happened already and compare it to what I already think I know."

"Sounds metaphysical," Jack said.

"It is," Elle said. "And it's not."

He sighed heavily. "I'm gonna need some pie if we're gonna do this."