Disclaimer: I don't own them but I am willing to adopt.

Author's Notes: Sincere thanks to Carole. Her insight into both shows was invaluable. This story is much improved and far more accurate due to her input.

Story Notes: Due South/Stargate Crossover. Comments are welcome.

June 15: 6:30pm

Colonel Jack O'Neill walked out into the Colorado sun with a sigh. The cool fresh air felt good after nearly forty-eight hours cooped up inside the mountain installation. He stretched before he climbed behind the wheel of his truck. A couple of young airmen saluted him as they marched past. Jack saluted back somewhat half-heartedly. He might be a career military officer but off-duty still meant off-duty to him.

Just before he started the engine, he heard a call from behind him. Major Samantha Carter jogged up to the jeep, brushing short, blond hair from her eyes.

"Colonel O'Neill, Sir," she said. "I'm sorry to chase after you like this but Daniel found something in one of the artifacts we brought back from P3X489. He asked me to catch you before you left base."

"Running errands for the good doctor now, Major?" O'Neill asked.

Carter smiled. "Well, no, not normally, Sir, but he was very excited. You know how Daniel can get and then, well...I just thought I could catch you."

"Not quite as efficient as calling the guards at the gate but, all right, you accomplished your mission. However, whatever Daniel found can wait until morning. In fact, you should be going home yourself and sending Daniel on his way. We've had a busy couple of days, Major and we're on stand down for forty-eight hours. Go home, get some fresh air."

"Yes, Sir, I know. And I'd like to go home, honestly, but, well, Daniel sounded like he really needed you to see this. He doesn't think it can wait."

O'Neill looked into the face of his second in command and recognized her slightly pleading expression. He sighed as he slipped back out of the truck.

"This better be good, Carter."

Jack followed her back into the mountain compound and they took the elevator down to the level with Daniel Jackson's office. Carter couldn't explain any further about whatever Daniel was excited about. Her attempts were interrupted when the intruder alarm sounded. They both darted out of the elevator, sprinting towards Daniel's office.

Inside, sitting on the floor and rubbing his head, they found Daniel with Doctor Janet Fraiser kneeling beside him. Outside, several security personnel jogged past the door.

"I'm all right," Daniel said, sounding as if he had already insisted several times.

"I'm taking you downstairs to make sure. You have a nasty bump on your head and you still can't tell me what happened," Fraiser said.

"I can too. I told you what happened."

"What's going on?" Jack demanded.

"I sounded the alarm, Colonel," Fraiser answered. "Apparently something attacked Dr. Jackson and is loose."

"Something is loose? Something, like what?"

"Smoke. It's smoke, Jack. I don't know how you're gonna find it but that's what hit me," Daniel answered, still trying to battle Fraiser for a feel of the bump on his head.

Jack picked up the phone on Daniel's desk. He punched in an extension and waited.

"General... No, sir, I don't know the nature of the threat yet but something attacked Daniel...yes, sir, I'll give you more information as soon as I have it...uh, yes, Fraiser is with him now...thank you, sir."

He set the phone down.

"Daniel, you all right?" Jack crouched in front of him while Sam stood close behind.

"I'm fine, Jack. I've banged my head a lot harder than this."

"Did you lose consciousness?"

"I don't know, I guess so, but not for more than a moment or two."

"Infirmary it is, Daniel. Fraiser wins this round."

Daniel scowled, pushing dark blond hair away from his face.

"It's not necessary."

"Sure it is. Come on, big guy." Jack put his hand out and helped his friend to his feet.

Daniel stood easily enough without any trace of dizziness and Jack took that as a good sign. Sam placed a hand on his back as they made their way through the office while Janet stayed close by his side.

"All right, you wanna tell me what all this is about?" Jack asked as they entered the elevator.

"The artifact we brought back last week. You know the one. The little spiral pot with the fluted end and the mud seal."

"The bud vase."

"I already told you it's not a vase, Jack. It's probably a musical instrument. Well, at least I thought it was until a few minutes ago."

"What happened a few minutes ago?" Sam asked.

"It started smoking."

"You sent Carter to get me after it started smoking? Why didn't you call security?"

"No, no, not then. I asked her to get you when I found some writing on the bottom of it. Some of the fossilized rock chipped off while I was looking at it or I wouldn't have seen it at all."

"Seen what, Daniel? What did the artifact say?" Jack was growing impatient.

"Actually, I don't think it is an artifact anymore. At least not for us. In fact, it's more like a souvenir, I guess."

"Daniel, how hard did you hit your head?"

"To Bob, Jack. The bottom of the vase," he said, pointedly, "says To Bob."

"You mean it translates 'to bob'. Like bobbing for apples or something. It's not a vase, it's a party favor."

"No, I mean, it says, To Bob. In American modern English. Like a gift for Bob. It looks like it was painted on with standard blue paint."

"That's impossible, Daniel," Sam said.

They had reached the infirmary and Fraiser told Daniel to sit on one of the beds while she attached a blood pressure cuff to his arm.

"Have any other teams gone to that planet? Maybe one of them left something behind." Daniel said.

"No, we were first. As far as I know, we're the only ones that have gone there at all," Sam answered.

"Okay, there must be a glitch. The computer is deciphering destinations a lot faster than before so it must have repeated itself and no one caught it," Jack said.

"That's what I was thinking at first, but then the artifact started smoking and well, the smoke sort of turned into a shape and the shape, well, it knocked me into the wall," Daniel said.

"Take a breath," Fraiser said, slipping the stethoscope under Daniel's shirt and placing it against his chest.

"What kind of shape?" Jack asked.

"In a minute, Colonel," Fraiser chastised. She checked Daniel's heart beat and breathing for a few moments, moving the stethoscope from place to place on his chest and back before she allowed them to continue talking.

"A human shape. Like a, uh, man, sort of," Daniel explained. "But not solid, it stayed mostly smoke. No defining features, just like a smoke shape."

"When it hit you, how did it hit you? Smoke doesn't hit," Jack said.

"I know. But it felt solid, like a shove. A hard shove, to be sure, but still just like it was getting me out of its path."

"And this thing is loose?"

"Yeah, I didn't see it leave my office but I have to assume it did. See, the whole thing doesn't make sense. It is an artifact. I can date it for you. It's not something that was left behind recently. If I had to guess I'd say its been there for thousands of years."

"How could that be possible, Daniel?" Sam asked.

"Maybe something sped up the aging process. Or maybe we're dealing with some sort of time traveler," Daniel suggested.

"That travels in a bud vase." Jack said, clearly not believing it.

"We know time travel is possible, Jack."

"Not inside a vase."

"It's not a vase. And we don't know that it was used for traveling anyway. It could just as easily have been a hiding place. This is a being made up of smoke or, or something like smoke. It can probably hide anywhere."

"And there's no way we can keep it in," Jack said, suddenly realizing the potential. "Not without cutting off the air supply in the entire compound."

"And it's already had nearly half an hour to escape." Daniel said.

"Crap. Daniel, finish letting the doctor check you out and then meet me upstairs in the general's office. I'm going to try and explain how we managed to bring back a souvenir with a genie in it that wasn't detected in decontamination and then we let it go."

"I never said it was a genie, Jack."

Jack made it as far as the door before Sam called to him. He turned around to find Daniel hunched over in pain on the table.

"What the hell?" He came over to help steady him while Janet pulled Daniel's shirt over his head.

All three watched, fascinated, as dots of his skin reddened to bright points, then faded into small puckers of flesh. Just as Fraiser reached up to touch the area around the pink lesions, the skin chafed away to dust. There was no blood but tiny crevices were left in a semi-circle in the center of Daniel's breastbone.

"What was that?" Daniel asked, no longer showing pain but curious as he tried to look around Fraiser's head that was blocking the view to his chest.

"I'm not sure," Fraiser said.

"His skin just burned off," Carter said.

"What?" Daniel's voice reflected a slight pitch of panic.

"It's all right, Daniel, you're fine," Fraiser assured him. "It didn't burn off. It's more like the skin was infected and then decayed very rapidly. What did it feel like?"

"It felt like a burn at first and then there was like an itch and then, I don't know, nothing. Do I have some kind of gaping wound or what?" Fraiser shifted so he could see that his skin was only blemished.

"No, no, not at all," she assured him. "Just lie back, Daniel, I want to do some scrapings around the area so I can run some tests."

"It's a hand print," Jack said, speaking for the first time since the odd phenomenon.

"What did you say, sir?" Carter asked.

"It's the shape of a hand print. Those are finger tips." To illustrate his point, he placed his splayed hand over the indentations. Whatever left the mark had a larger spread but the similarity was obvious.

"It must have happened when it shoved me," Daniel said.

"I'm going to talk to the general," Jack said. "Doctor, I need to know those test results ASAP."

"It'll be top priority, Colonel."

"Carter, stay here with Daniel. Do your science thing and find out what caused this. And find out why the lab didn't catch this a week ago."

"Yes, sir, Colonel."

August 2 12:20pm

Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police stood in front of the Canadian Consulate in Chicago staring straight ahead and blinking as rarely as possible. He felt a bit foolish with the two female tourists hovering on either side of him while their male companion took several photographs. When they finally finished he resisted the urge to sigh.

His internal clock told him that it was only ten more minutes until his shift ended. Standing in full dress reds, he had to admit he was relieved that he could soon escape the sweltering heat. He needed water and he had missed breakfast so his stomach was growling. He hoped his partner would meet him at the diner near the police station for a hearty lunch with several glasses of ice water on the side.

He was startled from the pleasant thought when a man walked up the steps directly towards him. He was used to strangers not understanding his position and fully expected the man to ask him for directions then realize Fraser couldn't answer and go about his business. But the man didn't speak when he grew close and Fraser thought perhaps he also had a companion that might be along to take pictures.

That didn't happen. Instead the man reached out a hand to grasp his shoulder and Fraser collapsed in a heap on the stairs.

Ray Kowalski pulled up in front of the Consulate looking forward to lunch. He had missed breakfast since Welsh called him in early to answer some questions on a case he worked before he took over the undercover gig as Ray Vecchio. He originally intended to meet his Canadian partner at the diner down the street but since Welsh let him leave early, he figured he'd stop by and pick him up.

Just as he parked, he noticed a man wearing an ankle-length trench coat approach Fraser. Some loud laughter took his attention for a moment and he spotted a couple of girls with an older man pointing at Fraser and clutching their camera. He rolled his eyes at the tourists then looked back towards the Consulate steps. The trench coat man was reaching out and Ray thought with some amusement that Fraser was about to get flashed. But since flashing was a crime, he was also climbing out of his car at the same time to bust the pervert. Instead of pulling open his coat, the stranger set his hand down on Fraser's shoulder. Ray's heart lurched when the Mountie crumpled like rag doll.

He ran towards the steps, drawing his gun and yelling at the trench coat. The man turned towards him for just a moment. The girls, apparently noticing something was going on, started yelling and the sound of footsteps coming from behind him had Ray dodging away, not knowing if the trench coat had help or the tourists were going for cover. Ray glanced away for a second, assessing the possible new threat while he identified himself as a police officer. As he recognized the panicked reactions of the girls and their companion he turned back to find the hazy aftermath of smoke and nothing else. A bitter smell met his nostrils but it wasn't tobacco or pot or incense. It was nothing he recognized. He spun in a circle, looking for the assailant and found him gone. He took a few steps back towards the street, scanning all the directions, recognizing and dismissing the few curiosity seekers. The trench coat had effectively disappeared.

Ray ran up the steps and pounded on the Consulate door then he went to his partner.

Fraser was trying to sit up but with his one hand pressed against his shoulder and lying between two steps it was difficult. Ray knelt beside him, helping to right him while he started a panicked, non-stop string of questions and platitudes. Fraser finally put a hand against Ray's chest and asked him to wait a moment.

By this time, both Constable Turnbull and Inspector Thatcher were on the steps with them. After a quick synopsis of events from Ray, Thatcher ordered Turnbull to call for police and an ambulance before she knelt down beside them.

"A transport is really not necessary," Fraser said.

"Like hell," Ray said. "Just sit there like a good Mountie and catch your breath until they get here, okay? You sure you didn't hit your head?"

"I'm sure."

"That's good, Fraser. Now who was that guy and what did he do to you?"

"Give him a few moments, will you, Detective?" Thatcher asked, pointedly.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, Fraser, you need some time to get it together."

"I'm fine, Ray, Inspector, really. My shoulder feels a bit sore, but it's nothing serious."

"Sore, like how? That guy shove you or what?"

"Detective Vecchio," Thatcher admonished again.

"No, well, yes, I guess he did. He shoved me, I think and then, well, I just felt my legs go. It didn't hurt, exactly, more like a bad shock. But now there's some pain, like a burning sensation."

"Oh, shit," Ray said and started trying to get Fraser's red serge unbuttoned.

"What?" Fraser asked, batting at Ray's hands while he tried to undress him.

"He probably injected you with something."

"What?" Thatcher said and started helping him pull off the uniform.

With Thatcher's assistance and Fraser's surrender, they had Fraser down to his undershirt by the time the ambulance pulled up. To Ray's annoyance, the police didn't arrive until a few moments after that.

The medics completed stripping off the t-shirt while Ray stood over them, growling from time to time that they should be gentler, more thorough, faster. Thatcher finally tugged him away so they could do their job. He ignored Fraser's sigh of relief as he moved away.

"What happened?" Thatcher asked Ray, putting her hands on her hips.

"Some guy, wearing one of those long trench coats, touched him and he just...he just fell down. Like somebody sucked the air out of him. I drew my gun and started after him but I lost him for a second and he was gone."

"You were right here and he got past you?"

"Hey, I just looked a way for a second. He went up in smoke or something."

"Well, that's likely, Detective," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well stuff happens when you're out here doing police work instead of sitting behind a desk."

Ray jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, his hand automatically reaching for this shoulder holster.

"Settle down, Vecchio," Lieutenant Welsh said.

"Lieutenant. What are you doing here?" Ray was surprised to see his boss standing on the steps with them.

"When Detective Huey received the call about an incident at the Consulate I decided to tag along. I figured if the Mountie was involved, I was bound to find you as well. How's Fraser?"

"I don't know," Ray answered, looking back to where two female medics were huddled around his partner and blocking the view.

"I'll find out," Thatcher said, showing just enough jealousy to make Ray give her a knowing grin. She didn't seem to notice as she plowed her way between the two young women treating her second in command.

Ray turned his attention back to Welsh.

"What happened this time?" Welsh asked.

Ray gave him a more detailed description of events but he could see the disapproval on the lieutenant's face when the story ended the same way.

"I'm telling you it was just a second," he defended.

"That's all it takes," Welsh answered. "Get your statement on paper by this afternoon."

"Uh, I might need to go to the hospital with Fraser, sir."

"I doubt they'll take him. I don't think all that clucking over there is about his injury."

Ray looked over again and found one of the medics throwing supplies into a box and periodically glaring at Thatcher. The other one was sitting beside a decidedly pink Fraser helping him tug his undershirt back over his head. Thatcher was sitting on the other side of him, throwing nasty looks at both women. And Huey was trying to conduct an interview in between.

"I see what you mean," Ray said. He recognized a need for rescue when he saw it.

Ray bullied his way between the women. The medic shifted reluctantly to make room while Thatcher refused to budge.

"You ready for lunch?" Ray asked, ignoring both of them.

"Yes, thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser said pushing to his feet with an apologetic glance towards Huey.

"I'll get his statement, Jack," Ray said and allowed Fraser to lead the way to the car.

The medics were yelling something about rest and seeing his doctor. Fraser waved back at them, thanking them without stopping. Once they were both inside the car, he slumped against the seat, rubbing furiously at this eyebrow.

"Some day you're gonna look in the mirror and only half of it, is going to be there," Ray teased him as he pulled away from the curb.

"American women are certainly..."

"Careful, Fraser, Thatcher is Canadian."

"Indeed. Point taken," Fraser said. "Though I believe she was only concerned with my welfare as any superior officer would be regarding a subordinate."

"Yeah, yeah, sure she is."

Ray drove them to their diner resisting the urge to continue teasing his partner. Fraser was fun to harass but since he was just injured, Ray thought he should show some restraint.

Once they were both settled in a booth and drinks were ordered Ray pulled his notebook from his pocket. He set it on the table before opening the menu to choose his lunch. He noticed that Fraser decided with just a glance and had already replaced the menu in the holder with the condiments. He was also searching around the restaurant looking a bit too desperate. Ray was about to ask him what he lost when the waitress returned with a soda for him and water for Fraser. Before she asked, Fraser was already ordering.

"The double bacon cheeseburger with french fries, please," he said. "A tossed salad with Russian dressing, a side of your macaroni salad and the French Onion soup."

"Bowl or cup," the waitress asked.

"Bowl, please. And could you bring a large chocolate milk as well?"

"No problem." She was studying him like she was looking for another person hiding beside him. Ray was looking at him too. He knew Fraser had an appetite but the order was enough to feed two of him.

"I'll have a single bacon burger," Ray said. "with the fries."

"Is that all?" She sounded sarcastic.

"Yeah, that should do it." He threw some attitude into his voice.

"Actually, a piece of your Key Lime Pie too, please," Fraser said.

"It's your stomach," the waitress said as she walked away.

Fraser's expression changed from desperate to desperate and embarrassed so Ray decided not to mention the sudden plummet into gluttony.

"So, you feel all right, buddy," Ray asked. "You fell down pretty good before."

"No lasting effects. In fact, I barely remember it."

"Do you remember what the guy looked like?"

Fraser fidgeted in his seat, searching the restaurant in all directions. He turned around so far, Ray expected him to crawl up on his knees in the booth the way children do to see the other side. He stopped short of that but continued looking around anxiously. Even as he answered, Ray could tell he wasn't paying attention.

"He was under six foot, long curly brown hair, blue eyes, glasses, pale complexion, slender build, perhaps 150 to 160 pounds. It's difficult to be completely accurate regarding his physique due to the cover of the trench coat."

"That's what I saw too. When he turned towards me, he looked kind of blank. Like no one's living in there." Ray tapped his head for effect.

"I don't actually remember his expression. Do you suppose the waitress will be back soon?"

"She's only been gone a minute."

"Perhaps I could serve myself the pie. They're right there in that glass case."

"She'll bring it, Fraser, just relax."

"I'm sure she won't mind, Ray."

"You're not gonna starve to death if you give her another three minutes, okay? Jeez, you're acting like your wolf."

Fraser glared at him. "I most certainly am not."

"Then just sit there like a good boy and wait for your lunch. They probably had to send out to fill that order you gave her."

Fraser slapped both of his eyes back to Ray and gripped the edge of the table. "Do you really think so?"

"No, I'm kidding." Fraser sighed and went back to his desperate vigil. Ray decided he had better wait until their food arrived to continue any sort of conversation.

Luckily for all of them, she showed up with his soup and milk a couple of moments later. Fraser sucked down the milk as fast as his throat would cooperate, even dribbling some on his chin. He wiped up quickly and went after his soup with a gusto that would have made Mrs. Vecchio proud.

Ray watched him not sure if he should be amused or alarmed. The waitress came back just as Fraser lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped up the remaining soup in his bowl. He attacked his hamburger as if he feared it would escape somehow, only hesitating to chew, swallow and stuff several fries in his mouth.

Ray took a few bites, only managing half the hamburger before he felt full just watching his friend eat. But with the human trash compactor sitting across from him, there was no waste. Fraser finished his food and took Ray's while he asked if Ray minded. The hamburger was already in his mouth before Ray could agree.

The feeding frenzy slowed eventually but Fraser still finished both salads and the pie before he finally showed any sign of being sated.

"That was the best hamburger I have ever had," he said.

"You tasted it?"

Fraser had the grace to look embarrassed.

"It's okay, buddy, but I think maybe you knocked something loose when you fell down. That hypo thing in your head that says you're hungry, maybe it got jarred or something."

"The hypothalamus. I don't believe it can be loosened."

"Well, something's wrong. I've never seen you eat like that. I've never seen anybody eat like that."

"I'll admit I was famished, Ray and perhaps a bit gluttonous, but..."

"Fraser, you just plowed through lunch like you haven't eaten in a week. You got stuff all over because you were getting it in there so fast. Look around you, there's lettuce and crumbs and special sauce. Since when do you make a mess?"

Fraser glanced around the table. He started cleaning up with extra napkins. Ray stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"The mess isn't what's bugging me."

"Then what is it, Ray? If I've embarrassed you, I apologize, I certainly didn't intend..."

"Don't be stupid, Fraser. I'm worried about you."

"I have to go to sleep now, Ray."

"Excuse me?" Even as he asked for a repeat Ray could see the nearly black circles under his friend's eyes. His complexion had changed from pale to gray in a heartbeat.

"I have to sleep now."

"Come on, Fraser, I'll take you."

Ray tossed twenty-five dollars on the table figuring that would cover the bill and the tip. He took Fraser's arm while Fraser leaned against him, nearly stumbling just by having to move his legs. They made it to the car without falling, which was a miracle as far as Ray was concerned. He got the Mountie settled into the passenger side and then he drove them both to the hospital.

By the time, they arrived at the emergency entrance, Fraser was snoring peacefully but when Ray tried to wake him, he couldn't. He ran inside, grabbed a startled nurse by the arm. She wasn't amused by his antics but she finally caught on to the problem and called for assistance.

Ray, two nurses and an orderly converged on the GTO and one sleeping Mountie. The Mountie stirred as soon as his door was opened. He looked at Ray questioningly while the medical staff started performing a cursory exam before they moved him to a wheelchair.

"What's going on, Ray?"

"You wouldn't wake up," Ray yelled as Fraser was whisked past him.

August 2 10:30pm

Ray locked the front door, shut off the living room light and went into the bedroom. He stripped down, turned the switch off on his bedside lamp and lied down. Diefenbaker jumped up beside him, turned a few circles and settled at his back. Ray petted him absently.

The doctor had said a lot of stuff that only doctors understand but the bottom line was that Fraser was okay. No concussion, no skull fracture, strong heart, good pulse, responsive pupils, no confusion, no dizziness. Basically Fraser was the healthiest guy in Chicago. But they kept him anyway. The doctor wanted to be safe. Fraser didn't argue about staying at the hospital. Apparently he was content as long as they just let him sleep.

But Ray was worried.

He didn't sleep much that night and Diefenbaker complained every time he shifted or turned. Finally, his alarm went off and he didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed. His brain felt like cotton, his mouth was dry, his limbs ached with mileage and age. The wolf whined at him, Ray growled back before he padded into the shower.

He didn't stop to make coffee. Instead he went to the drive-thru of a Starbuck's rip-off and ordered a large mocha cappuccino with extra chocolate. Dief netted a cherry pastry that he wolfed down in two bites then busied himself licking up crumbs off the seat.

Their next stop was to the hospital where Ray should have been surprised to see Fraser sitting outside on a bench but he wasn't surprised because it was just so Fraser. He pulled up next to him.

"Good morning, Ray," Fraser said as he stood up to walk over to the open window.

"They let you go?"

"Yes. The doctor signed me out an hour ago."

"And you didn't call me or take a taxi because..."

"It was early, Ray. I thought you'd like to sleep. And unfortunately my hat is devoid of cash."

"Get in, Fraser."

Dief jumped over the seat into the back then sniffed at Fraser as he climbed in and placed his Stetson on the dash. While Fraser greeted the wolf, Ray studied him for a moment. He looked good. His skin was back to that healthy pale he carried so well, his eyes were clear and calm, the circles beneath were gone. He looked like Fraser again, as if the day before never happened.

"So, you feel better?"

"I feel wonderful. I was a bit surprised to hear that I slept for 15 hours but I have to admit I feel entirely refreshed."

"That's good, Fraser but I gotta tell you, ya scared the hell out of me."

"Oh. Well, I appreciate the concern. I certainly didn't mean to worry you."

"It's okay. You ready to go home?"

"Actually, Ray, have you had breakfast?"

"No. How hungry are you?" Ray asked, suspiciously.

"Not terribly. A bagel, perhaps. Some tea."

Relieved, Ray headed for a bakery near the Consulate. As indicated, Fraser ordered a bagel with a side of fresh fruit. Ray ordered the cinnamon streusel. They ate together in companionable silence while Ray studied his friend for any signs of the insanity they experienced the day before. There was nothing odd so he relaxed.

After breakfast, he dropped Fraser and Dief at the Consulate and headed into work. He started working through the various reports and statements from Fraser's attack looking for something that might net a suspect. But, the guy was generic enough that no flags came up. Plus, as Welsh was quick to point out, there was enough confusion generated by the sight of Ray's gun to create some discrepancies between the witnesses.

One of the witness statements bothered him, though. It was from one of the girl tourists that had been using Fraser as a prop for her souvenir photos. In her statement she said that she saw the man in the trench coat from the back as he walked up to Fraser. Then her companion distracted her for a moment and when she turned back, she saw the Mountie on the ground and Ray passing her with his gun drawn. The man in the trench coat started walking in her direction and she thought it was strange because he wasn't running. Then something blew into her eyes, like smoke and when she could see again, the man was gone. She said the substance in her eyes didn't feel grainy like dust or dirt. She specified that she felt like someone blew smoke at her and it smelled bitter but not like a cigarette or a cigar.

Ray searched out Jack Huey and asked him if he thought her statement was odd. Jack shrugged at him.

"Yeah, I thought it was weird but you know how witnesses are. It was probably wind or something and she got confused with everything else going on."

Ray figured Huey was right but he still remembered seeing the spiral of smoke and he couldn't explain where it came from.

After taking care of some filing that Welsh was threatening to fire him over, Ray decided to call Fraser to check in. Again, he should have been surprised when Turnbull announced that Fraser was assisting some tourists with passport information but he wasn't. Why would a night in the hospital keep a guy from working?

He didn't bother to hold. Instead he hung up and started thinking about lunch. Just as he stood up to tell Welsh where he was going, two men walked through the bullpen and straight into the lieutenant's office without knocking.

He waited with the uneasy feeling this would involve him and sure enough, a moment later, Welsh bellowed.

Inside he found one man with graying hair standing in front of Welsh's desk. Ray would bet he was military from his ramrod posture and the way he studied Ray from head to toe. The other man was sitting. He was younger with light brown hair and while he didn't look relaxed, he also didn't have the feel of power behind him.

"Detective Vecchio, this is Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson."

Ray shook hands with each one. They both smiled but only Jackson seemed to be making an attempt to be friendly.

"What service?" Ray asked, his tone full of challenge.

"Air Force. What grade of detective?" O'Neill asked, matching the inflection.

"First," Ray answered.

"I'm a doctor of archeology," Jackson said, more politely and giving a wary glance at the colonel. "And we're in need of a little assistance."

"It's about the incident yesterday with Big Red," Welsh said.

"What about it?"

"We were hoping you could give us some more information. Beyond what's in your report," Jackson said.

"I don't keep stuff out of official reports," Ray said.

O'Neill folded his arms and glared. "Well, why don't you tell us what happened and maybe something extra might occur to you."

"Some guy in a trench coat touched Fraser on the shoulder. Fraser passed out. The trench coat disappeared. Fraser thought he had a burn on his shoulder but the EMT's didn't see it. Anything else?"

"Do you remember what the guy in the trench coat looked like?" Jackson asked.

"Long, curly hair, fairly short, Caucasian."

"Is this the man?" Jackson pulled an 8x10 photo out of the folder he was holding

Ray examined it but he knew right away that it was the guy.

"Who is he?"

"Then that is the man you saw," Jackson pressed.

"That's him. Who is he?"

"He's an Anthropology student from Washington. We've been searching for him for about a month now," O'Neill answered.

"Take them over to the Consulate, Detective. They want to see where Fraser was attacked. And I want you to cooperate with them, understood?" Welsh said.

"I'm not done filing." Ray was just being argumentative.

"It'll still be here when you get back."

O'Neill and Jackson stood up. They waited for Ray to lead them out of the bullpen and into the parking lot. Ray pointed out his GTO while O'Neill pointed out his rental.

"Nice car," O'Neill said.

"Thanks."

"1966?"

"'67."

"Original paint?"

"Nah, me and my dad gave it six coats after we finished putting it together."

"Real nice car."

"You wanna ride in it?"

"Maybe later, huh? Might as well let the military take the gas on this one, right?"

"Yeah, okay."

Ray followed them over to the black sedan. He noticed that Jackson had no interest in his car and seemed a bit perturbed they were taking the time to discuss it.

Jackson climbed into the backseat. Ray took shotgun so he could give directions.

"What did he do to Fraser to make him fall down?" Ray asked, once they were heading the right way.

"We're still looking into that," Jackson said. "Did you notice anything unusual about him?"

"He was wearing a trench coat on an 85 degree day. And he disappeared really quick, like...I don't know...just quick."

"Like a puff of smoke?" Jackson asked, shifting forward in his seat.

"Why would you say that?" Ray asked, straightening up, his suspicion cranked a notch.

"We've had reports that he disappears," O'Neill said which explained nothing.

Ray scowled.

"All right, look, this guy was there and then he wasn't. There was smoke where he used to be. I didn't imagine it. I got another witness saying the same thing. So, what do you know about it?"

"It's a magic trick," O'Neill answered. "He has pellets or something in his pocket. When they hit the ground, it creates a distraction and he disappears. He's done it before."

"Him knocking Fraser on his ass, was that a trick too?"

"That was probably an electric charge. Sort of a revved up gag buzzer. It's harmless."

"Then why was Fraser so hungry afterward? And why did he have to sleep for 15 hours to get back to normal?"

"What makes you think the two things are related?"

"Give me a break. It's related. I know it's related."

"Your friend is all right now, isn't he?" O'Neill asked.

"I hope so," Ray answered.

"He is," Jackson said. "The sleep and the need for food are harmless side effects."

"You sure about that?"

"He's not the first victim and no one's been seriously injured or suffered any long term effects."

"How many victims have you seen?"

"Four. One in Colorado, one in New Mexico, one in Montana and then Washington State."

"Daniel?" O'Neill said, a question in his voice.

"What?"

"Don't you think you might be over sharing there?"

"I haven't said anything confidential, Jack."

"Hey, how much do you know?" Ray asked, a shaft of fear running through him. He knew if the government was involved, it had to serious but hearing the word "confidential" worried him.

"We know Constable Fraser is fine and that's all that should concern you," O'Neill answered.

"You got someone in Chicago that's zapping people and you think all I got to worry about is my friend?"

"One state, one victim."

"So far, maybe. How do you know there haven't been more? Just because you haven't had reports doesn't mean..."

"Actually," Jackson interrupted. "In this case, it does. Five victims, five different states. There's no chance of us being wrong about that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm sorry, that's confi..."

"Confidential. Great."

Ray didn't miss the other two men exchanging looks between them. He sat back, sullenly, wondering how to get two military types to give him information.

He told O'Neill to turn left and half a block later they pulled up across the street from the Consulate. As they crossed, Ray described where he had been parked and what he saw. O'Neill asked a few questions about the tourists and the weather conditions. They passed Turnbull on their way to the front door. Ray pointed him out, explaining that Fraser had been standing there the day before.

"What are they guarding against?" Jackson asked.

"I don't know. Invasion, I guess."

"In Chicago? On a Canadian Consulate?"

Ray just shrugged as he opened the door, ushering the other men in ahead of them. He found Fraser sitting behind the reception desk talking into the phone so he pointed out the only two chairs in the lobby. Neither O'Neill nor Jackson made use of them.

Fraser hung up and stood to greet his visitors. Ray made introductions and everyone shook hands before Fraser suggested they adjourn to his office.

"So, you two work together?" Jackson asked.

"Yes," Fraser answered.

"He first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father," Ray said. "And for reasons..."

"Ray," Fraser put his hand on Ray's arm to stop him. "I stayed."

"Working with the Chicago police department?" O'Neill asked.

"I am a police officer," Fraser said. "It's surprising how many Americans don't understand the Canadian justice system."

"I'll bet," O'Neill said.

Fraser's office was small but they managed to settle with the visitors in chairs and Ray sitting on a short file cabinet.

"These two know something about the guy that zapped you," Ray said. "But they're not sharing. They do want to hear what you have to say though."

"Thank you," O'Neill said pointedly. "Can you tell us what you remember about yesterday, Constable?"

"Certainly, Colonel. I was standing guard outside of the Consulate. It was approximately 12:20 in the afternoon. Two young women had just completed posing with me while their friend photographed them. After they moved away, another man walked towards me quite deliberately as if he wanted to ask a question. He didn't speak but he did reach out and touch my shoulder."

"Is that unusual?" Jackson asked.

"Not especially, no. Occasionally tourists became curious regarding the material of my uniform and will touch it. It's somewhat disconcerting but not wholly unexpected. In this instance, however, when he touched me, I felt an odd sensation, as if I were being pushed and then my legs collapsed beneath me. I don't believe I lost consciousness, but I was disoriented for a moment or two. By the time I regained my bearings, Ray was there, seeing to my condition."

"Tell them about the burn," Ray encouraged.

"Yes, of course, I experienced a burning sensation on my shoulder where he touched me. However, when the medics arrived there was no mark. I did notice a discoloration on my undershirt later when I was dressing at the hospital."

"You didn't tell me that."

"It slipped my mind, Ray."

"Do you still have the shirt?" Jackson asked.

"Certainly, I'll retrieve it from laundry. I'll just be a moment."

"So what burns a shirt but doesn't mark the skin?" Ray asked after Fraser left.

"That's need to know, I'm afraid," Jackson answered.

"That is so lame."

All three men jumped up when Inspector Thatcher burst into Fraser's office, all wide- eyed and breathless.

"Did he come back here?" She asked.

"Fraser is getting a shirt out of the dirty clothes pile," Ray answered.

"Is he all right? Is he confused or..."

"He's fine. You saw him this morning, didn't you?"

"But the car accident and he left the scene, that's hardly..."

"What car accident?" Jackson asked as Fraser came back carrying his shirt.

"Fraser, are you..." She tugged at her suit jacket and straightened her posture. "You're all right."

"I'm fine, sir."

"Sir?" O'Neill asked. "You sure you're all right?"

"That's what he calls her," Ray explained.

"Shut up," Thatcher ordered them. "Then you're not injured. You feel all right."

Fraser just looked at her.

"Then why would you leave the scene of an accident?" She asked.

"What accident?" Ray asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Look, Fraser, I know you when I see you even when I'm watching TV and you appear unexpectedly."

"Ah Ah Ah," O'Neill said holding up his hands and getting the attention of the group. "Now, you," he pointed at Thatcher. "Start from the beginning."

"Who are you?" Thatcher asked, folding her arms for effect.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill. And this is Doctor Daniel Jackson." Daniel shook her hand. "We're looking into the incident on the steps yesterday. And you are?"

"Inspector Margaret Thatcher, RCMP. I supervise the Consulate and am Constable Fraser's superior officer. What does the American military have to do with Fraser's assault?"

"They're not saying," Ray said.

"Of course they're not," Thatcher said, apparently willing to let her question go for the moment. "I was at home. I was here until very early this morning so I went home to shower and change. I was watching the afternoon commute report and they replayed some footage of an accident that occurred about an hour earlier. Apparently, someone ran a stop sign and collided with another car. A news crew happened to be at the intersection covering some carnival. They showed Fraser climb out of his vehicle and then run away. He didn't wait for the police or check on the other driver who was quite seriously injured."

"Fraser wouldn't do that," Ray said.

"I know. But nevertheless, it was him. He looked directly into the camera so there's no mistake. Which is, of course, why I thought he was injured. I came here directly to see if he had returned."

"I have not left this building," Fraser looked sincere.

"It was you, Constable."

"Well they say everyone has a twin," O'Neill said.

"I'd like to see the news footage," Jackson said. "Do you remember the name of the TV station or which channel you were watching?" She started to answer when Turnbull appeared in Fraser's doorway.

"Why aren't you standing sentry?" Thatcher demanded.

"I apologize, Inspector, but there are two police officers waiting outside on the steps. They say they're here to arrest Constable Fraser."

"Oh, great," Ray muttered.

August 3, 12:40pm

Thatcher went outside and told the officers that they could not remove Fraser from Canadian soil. They were not inclined to agree. Ray was impressed when both O'Neill and Jackson argued in his defense stating diplomatic law and generally confusing both men until they finally slunk away to call their sergeant.

Thatcher ordered Fraser not to leave the Consulate and Ray phoned Welsh to get a subpoena for the news tape. Welsh did suggest, in strong terms, that Fraser turn himself in since they could bail him out with relative ease.

Thatcher didn't like it but she agreed to drive him to the 27th District Station.

At 2:30 in the afternoon, Ray, O'Neill, Jackson and John Colton, the station manager, were sitting in a viewing room at the television station waiting for the film to begin.

The footage lasted about twenty-two minutes; four of those minutes had been shown on television in 30 second and one-minute bytes.

The camera operator heard the squealing of brakes so she swung the camera around in time to see a blue Chevy Nova crash into a green Ford Escort. The Nova spun around, then smashed into the Escort a second time, effectively sealing the Ford's driver's side door. The driver of the Escort never moved after the vehicles stopped. The driver of the Ford battled his way through the shards of glass to pull himself out of the driver's side window. He hesitated long enough to look around the street then climbed on to the hood of the Escort, jumped to the ground and ran away. The camera caught him dead front when he landed. Even with a trickle of blood visible over his eye, there was no mistaking Fraser.

"That's impossible," Ray said.

"Jack, look at the sign behind him," Jackson said.

"We're All Aliens," O'Neill read aloud.

"The crew was there filming an alien convention. The participants believe we're all descended from space aliens. They think if they get together in large numbers, the mother ship will come down and take them home," Colton explained.

"Oh, yeah, I saw an ad in the newspaper for it," Ray said.

Once again, Ray didn't miss the exchange of knowing looks between O'Neill and Jackson.

O'Neill asked Colton to play the tape again and he complied. The second viewing only emphasized that it was Fraser and that he couldn't have been there. The driver that caused the accident was suffering from a skull fracture and it was still uncertain whether he would survive.

Once they reached the outdoors, Ray planted himself next to O'Neill's car making it impossible for O'Neill to get in.

"How come Fraser is on that video and we all know he wasn't there?"

"I don't know," O'Neill answered.

"You're lying."

"We're telling you everything we can," Jackson said, clearly trying to diffuse the rising tension.

"That's not good enough."

"No, it probably isn't but it's all you're gonna get," O'Neill said carefully.

"Uh, Jack, a moment," Jackson said.

O'Neill shook his head with a scowl as he followed Jackson back up the steps towards the studio entrance. Ray watched them while O'Neill shook his head, waved his arms and did everything possible to express his negativity. Jackson matched the dramatics but his body language expressed that he was accustomed to the drama.

O'Neill led the way back down the steps. Ray remained where he was, leaning against the car with his arms crossed.

"Okay," O'Neill said. "You ready to go?"

"Go where?"

"To the police station. We'll be sure to let your lieutenant know how helpful you've been."

"Whoa, whoa. You are not dismissing me."

"There's nothing more for you to do, Detective."

"The hell there isn't. Fraser got hurt yesterday. Today he got framed or...or something. I don't know what."

"He'll get a ticket, Vecchio. Just bring in a couple witnesses to say he doesn't have that kind of car. His co-workers can verify that he never left the building. The judge will throw it out in five minutes."

"There's somebody running around out there with Fraser's face and it's related to the attack yesterday."

"You don't know that," O'Neill said.

"You do. Why else would you be here investigating a simple assault? And what about your interest in that Alien sign? What's that got to do with this?"

"You're jumping to conclusions."

"That's what I do. I jump and sometimes I'm wrong and sometimes I'm right. And I'm right this time, aren't I? That guy that zapped Fraser, he's got Fraser's face now, doesn't he?"

As soon as the words left him, Ray froze. He looked at O'Neill and Jackson and a shiver invaded him from head to toe. He walked away from them, feeling like he should be running. Instead he only went a few feet before he turned around.

"Forget I said that. I'm not nuts."

He turned back around and started walking. He was surprised when he heard footsteps overtaking him and he jerked away from the hand that fell on his shoulder.

"Slow down, Ray," Jackson said.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. I am not crazy. I do not believe in aliens. And if you two do, then go chase them on your own. Like you said, Fraser will be fine. I'll look after him."

"Ray, please," Jackson said more urgently and Ray stopped.

"Go away," he growled.

"You heard him, Daniel," O'Neill called from a few feet away.

"Don't be an ass, Jack. Let us give you a ride, Ray. It's the least we can do."

"I'm right, aren't I? You're chasing aliens."

"I can't respond to that."

"I knew it. I knew it. Forget it, I'm going."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Of this...of this...what do you think? A body sucker, space alien, steal your face, green guy. What do you think?"

"Body sucker?" O'Neill said.

"We have to tell him, Jack."

"No, Daniel, we don't. We have to take him back to his police station."

"We have to tell him the truth. He's guessed most of it already."

"Oh, God," Ray said and crouched at the foot of a building with his arms over his head.

"Yeah, this is going real well, Daniel."

"Ray," Jackson said quietly. "Please listen carefully to me. You're not crazy."

"I don't wanna know this," Ray said.

"Daniel, you are so in trouble," O'Neill said.

"I can't leave him like this. Can you?"

Ray remained crouched where he was with thoughts and memories and emotions whirling through his mind. He didn't know what happened between Jackson and the Colonel but a moment later, O'Neill gave in.

"Fine. Do what you need to do. But if you're wrong, the whole project will be put in jeopardy. You better understand that up front."

"I understand," Jackson answered. He turned back to Ray who was staring at him, pleading with all of his energy not to be told anymore. "There is an alien. He's made primarily of smoke. Not smoke in the traditional sense. It's a chemical compound that we've managed to decipher."

Ray groaned as he put his hands down and slipped off his feet to sit on the pavement. Jackson stayed crouched in front of him.

"But the bottom line," Jackson continued, "Is that it is sentient and when it comes into physical contact with humans, it creates a form for itself from the impression of that individual. In other words, it becomes the physical manifestation of that person. We don't think that it takes on the emotional or intellectual characteristics. We also don't know if it has to change forms periodically or if it does so for some purpose like evading capture or for pleasure or some other reason."

"They really exist?" Ray asked, only processing some of what Jackson was explaining.

"I'm afraid so."

"And you chase them?"

"Sometimes."

"I really don't want to know this."

"I understand that it's a lot to take in. But you already guessed a lot so you must have had some idea that this was possible."

"We're not gonna even begin to go there," he said, unfolding himself from his crouch and standing up. "How bad is this thing?"

"So far, it hasn't really done much harm. We think it's stealing a significant amount of energy from the victim and that's why they need to eat in excess and then sleep in excess. Their body is automatically compensating for what was taken. "

"As far as the alien goes," O'Neill said. "It seems to be travelling. It's not going in a pattern that we can detect. It's gone as few as three days and as long as twenty-eight before it changes form."

"How did it get here?"

"That's not important," O'Neill said throwing a glare at Jackson.

"What's it called?"

"Today, its called Fraser. Now, are you ready to go get the original? Him and the Inspector should be ready to go by now."

O'Neill started walking towards the car. Jackson nodded towards Ray and the two of them followed.

"It's like a shape shifter?" Ray asked.

"Apparently."

"You don't know very much about it."

"It's new. If we can communicate with it, we hope to find out more."

"It must be able to communicate if it's living in people. It must be able to talk, right?"

"We weren't sure of that until a couple of weeks ago when we met some people that it definitely spoke to."

"Did it make sense? Whoever it communicated with, did they understand what it was saying?"

"Yeah. It seemed perfectly clear and normal."

"But it didn't talk to people before?"

"Not that we could confirm."

"Maybe it was learning."

"Good guess, Ray. We think that might be it. Or maybe it was just taking its time to assimilate until it felt comfortable."

"You think it has feelings?"

"It's sentient so it's likely that it experiences emotions. We don't know the scope of them or if they're the same as the way we experience them though."

Ray climbed into the back of O'Neill's car; Jackson climbed in the passenger side. O'Neill slipped behind the wheel without looking at either of them.

"So you're saying that maybe the emotions are like what a dog feels and that's not as complicated as the way people feel."

"Sort of. Of course, it could be more complicated instead of less. We just don't know."

"Is it evil?"

"We don't know that either. But in this case, we haven't seen any decisively evil behavior."

"Taking people's bodies isn't good."

"Actually, it's only taking the person's likeness."

"And their energy," O'Neill interjected. "And what happens when the person it picks has heart problems or high blood pressure or they're elderly? It's one shape away from murder, Daniel."

Ray sat back silently. O'Neill was right, of course.

"Where did it come from?" Ray asked.

"That's more information than I can give you," Jackson said.

Jack listened to Daniel carefully answering Vecchio's questions and could just imagine General Hammond's reaction. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up court-martialed with Daniel plunked down in the cell next to him. He could just see him explaining to the General that it was a command decision, that they needed Vecchio's full cooperation, that Daniel felt sorry for the guy.

At least Daniel steered away from discussing the Stargate or how the "Marlboro Man" had escaped. And so far, Daniel hadn't shared his own experience with starvation and exhaustion and disappearing marks on his skin. Jack had to be glad of that much.

He didn't think Vecchio would appreciate the whole sordid explanation anyway. How the bud vase was actually a statue purchased at a novelty store in Atlantic City by Major Bob Rollins' wife. Or that Bob had taken that statue with him on missions with SG-3 because he thought it brought him luck. Or that Bob had gotten lost in the Stargate after a mission over a year before. No one liked to think about the intense lightening storm on P3X512 that had surged an incredible amount of electricity through the gate just as the team stepped through. The surge had sent the other three team members hurling through the gate and into the embarkation room like human missiles causing broken bones and one skull fracture. But Bob Rollins never came through at all. Tracing his movement through the gate had given them nothing. All the brilliant minds of the Stargate Project had failed to find him, not knowing if he had been disintegrated inside the gate, transported through a wrong gate or perhaps, even worse, floundering in the travel stream. But, whatever had happened to Bob Rollins, his statue had been flung to P3X489 and mysteriously aged to artifact status. As soon as Colonel Byron Leavitt had seen a picture of the statue, he had recognized it. SG-3 went back to P3X512 to see if Bob had survived with his statue but they hadn't found him.

And Jack and Daniel hadn't found the "Marlboro Man." Tracing him had become fairly simple, at least for them. There was a team in Colorado monitoring all of the police transmissions within a 500-mile radius of every sighting. While they had been sent on one or two false alarms, for the most part the base team was keeping track of him with admirable efficiency. Jack smugly took credit for that since he had put Sam Carter in charge of the detail.

Jack parked half a block away from the Canadian Consulate where the three men exited the car. Vecchio continued asking questions and Daniel tried to field them as well as he could.

"You guys are the government which maybe answers my question right there but if you've been tracking this...this alien guy since June, shouldn't you have caught him by now?"

"Since he changes appearances at will, it's been difficult to do that. Then there's the problem with his appearance. We don't think he actually becomes a solid person the way you and I are. We think the shape he takes is more an impression...like..."

"Like a hologram?"

"Sort of. He's not refracted light but he is able to disappear into..."

"A puff of smoke. I don't get that. No way can this guy be smoke and still be able to touch stuff. He knocked Fraser over with a touch. He drove a car. And that's another thing, why did he run away from the accident, why not do the smoke thing?"

"We know he has an energy force which is why Fraser felt his touch. He's not a ghost that can be walked through, he's more like a force field. The interesting thing about him is that he seems to be able to turn the energy on and off at will. He may even be able to control the intensity by degrees."

"Maybe it takes a lot of energy to do that so he couldn't zap himself away from the accident because he was out of juice."

"That's possible, Ray."

"Well, whatever his deal is, it's going to stop here. He picked the wrong guy when he messed with Fraser."

Jack opened the door to the Consulate deliberately not rolling his eyes at Vecchio's bravado. Daniel thanked him as he passed into the foyer. Typical Daniel, even distracted he's polite.

Fraser met them in the lobby looking decidedly calm. If Jack hadn't known better, he'd think the man was having a typical day of bureaucracy.

"Bad time with the cops?" Vecchio asked, patting Fraser on the shoulder as he passed him to go lean against the lobby desk. Huh? Jack thought. The guy looked perfectly normal. What was Vecchio talking about?

"They were rather determined to charge me, Ray. Inspector Thatcher is finding representation for me."

"It's not going to come to that, buddy. We're going to find this look-a-like and blast his green butt into outer space with ALF and Uncle Martin and the rest of them."

"ALF?"

"It's an American expression, Fraser, like spitting into the wind," Jack said with a glare at Vecchio. The man hadn't known the truth for five minutes and he was already spilling it.

Daniel determinedly set about examining the various portraits of Canadian government officials lining the walls.

"There must be a way to draw him out. If we can bring him to us, we can bring him down," Vecchio said.

"Now, that's something we haven't thought of." Jack didn't hide his sarcasm.

"Why does he pick the ones he picks to touch? Fraser was sort of alone standing on the steps. Does he always go for guys that are alone? Is it always guys? Fraser and that Archeology student..."

"Anthropologist. I'm the Archaeologist. And maybe we should take this conversation somewhere more private."

"Ya think?" Jack said.

"Sorry. The student," Vecchio said ignoring Jack but moving into Fraser's office. "He had dark hair and Fraser has dark hair, do all of them? What's the pattern?"

Jack shut the door behind them after the four men were inside.

"To date he's only attacked men. But, no, there's no similarity in appearance or build between his victims," Daniel said. "We think they're victims of convenience rather than the result of planning. He needs to change and so he does."

"But why does he need to? You said there's no time factor involved. He just changes looks when he feels like it."

"I believe I'm missing vital pieces of information," Fraser said.

"We have to tell him," Vecchio said.

"Why don't we just take an ad out?" Jack said.

"It happened to him. Besides you don't know how his mind works but he can really help us here. He knows stuff that, like, only...well...like nobody knows. He's just this encyclopedia of useless knowledge."

"Thank you, Ray."

"Anytime, Fraser."

"He has a point, Jack."

"Daniel, we can not go around talking about this, you know that."

"It's aliens, Fraser. Honest to God aliens, can you believe it? My dad always said I was nuts but hey, get this-- me--not crazy. I was right all along. An alien got you. He took your...your energy, life-force thingy and your looks and he's done it a few times before."

Vecchio didn't seem to notice that Jack had stomped his way to the other side of the room or that Daniel was standing still with his mouth open.

"Does the word court-martial mean anything around here?" Jack asked.

"You can't court-martial me."

"How about treason? You do know there are laws about treason, right, Vecchio?"

"Get over it, O'Neill, who are we going to tell? All we want to do is find the alien menace, knock it around a little for messing with Fraser and then let it buzz its way back to outer space. After that, you don't have to deal with me or Fraser anymore and you'll never hear another word out of us. Right, Fraser?"

"Aliens, Ray?"

"Tell him, Daniel," Vecchio said.

"You really should have waited, Ray," Daniel said.

"Maybe. But you know you would've spilled it. What else can you do if we're in the loop?"

"We should have taken you out of the loop," Jack said. "We don't need you in the loop."

"Of course you do. I know Chicago and he knows everything else. No way you're tracking down a green guy without us."

"He isn't green," Daniel said and Jack was glad to hear the frustration in his voice. Jack didn't want to be the only one freaking out over the security breach.

"Ray, you said your father didn't believe you. Have you always known about..." Fraser began.

"How do you know about that?" Vecchio interrupted.

"You just said..."

"No, you know more than that. You know more than that. How do you know about that?"

"That you were abducted by aliens at the age of ten?"

"Yeah, that. How do you know?"

"You were what?" Daniel asked.

"You told me, remember? Under hypnosis. After that incident at the mall."

"I forgot about that. I really told you, huh? You're not supposed to be telling other people, Fraser."

"Sorry, Ray."

"You were abducted when you were ten?" Daniel asked.

"Leave it alone, Daniel. He's way past ten now and we don't have the time to..."

"What did they look like? What did they do?"

"You know all those pictures on magazine covers and stuff? Big eyes? Long arms? Little spindly bodies? They were like that. Except, they didn't...you know...do stuff to me or anything. They just kind of looked me over and watched me for a while and then they took me home. Happened three times. Just like that. Scared the bejeezus out of me though. I didn't sleep for like two years."

Asgard, Jack thought. He'd have to see if there was any record of the visit the next time Thor dropped in.

"That's why you were so upset before?"

"Well, I convinced myself I was dreaming. I figured my dad was right and it was just one more way that old Stanley Ray wasn't like the rest of the world. It's kind of creepy to find out that it really happened."

"It may not have. Jeez, Vecchio, you think every alien story is true? A lot of people are dreaming or hallucinating or just misreading what they saw." Jack said.

"But you said..."

"We said this one guy was an alien. We didn't confirm every abduction story from here to Russia."

"Oh. I just thought. I didn't mean...Yeah, of course, I knew that."

Vecchio's eyes reflected clear disappointment. Jack knew he had annihilated his chance for validation. Vecchio shoved his hands in his pockets and moved out of the center of the room to lean against the back wall. Both Fraser and Daniel watched him for a moment before turning their disapproval towards Jack.

"Can we get back to business here?" Jack asked, annoyed that he was being cast as the bad guy. He wasn't the one revealing national secrets.

"Since we're all on the same page now," Daniel said pointedly. "Maybe we should go over all the files together. It's possible that we missed something or that Ray or Fraser might see something."

"We have the best minds available on this problem, Daniel, what are these two going to see that we..."

Jack broke off at Daniel's glare.

"Fine, you do that. Since we have this Fraser housed I'm going to see what progress we've made on finding the new one."

"The fake one," Vecchio said just before Jack went out the door.

"I'll go with you," Daniel said. "The briefcase is in the trunk."

O'Neill walked out to the car, still annoyed with Daniel and cursing Vecchio.

"We can trust them, Jack," Daniel said while O'Neill opened the trunk.

"Sure we can. We can trust them today. What about next week or five years from now? They're going to have to be monitored for the rest of their lives, Daniel."

"I'm sorry. I acted rashly with Ray but...Jack, I couldn't leave him like that with half a truth, not when it was bothering him so much, not when he'd figured it out anyway. Maybe this way he won't look into it anymore. Since he knows the truth, he doesn't have any reason to."

"All right, fine, Daniel, just don't say anything more than what you have to."

August 3, 5:30pm

"Our goal then, is to lure this being out into the open for confrontation," Fraser said after Daniel returned.

"Right," Daniel said. "The problem is we don't know what compels him to change shape from one day to the next, so we don't know what he's going to look like. We know he changed in Washington immediately after we issued the photo of his latest victim to the media. We're fairly sure that's the reason that he attacked the Anthropology student."

"Are there other incidents?"

"Four. Well, five including you. But this is as far east as we've seen him. He jumped all the way from Washington to here before changing."

"What was the elapsed time?"

"About a month. In the beginning he changed three times over two weeks but we think he's learning and so his ability to stay hidden is improving."

"Let's get at the files," Ray said. "We can guess 'til the cows come home but that isn't going to bring this guy to the surface."

"We can use the conference room at the end of the hall," Fraser said.

Two hours later, Ray closed the file he had been assigned amidst the litter of pizza boxes. He reached for the closest box and wolfed down the cold contents absently as he looked around the conference table. Daniel was up pacing and reading. Fraser had his eyes closed and looked as if he was trying to draw up a picture in his mind. He had taken a break and changed clothes after the pizza arrived so now he looked like a meditating lumberjack.

Nothing in Ray's file had given him any ideas. He had really wanted to find the key to bringing in ET. He wanted to nail him for hurting Fraser and he wanted to show O'Neill up but that wasn't working out.

"There's nothing," Fraser said quietly as he closed his folder.

Ray didn't let his mouth drop open but he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"That's what we've come up with too," Daniel said. "His changing seems to be random."

"Fraser, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Fraser stood up and followed Ray into the hall.

"Do not do that."

"Don't do what, Ray?"

"Embarrass me like that. I tell these guys that I gotta spill everything 'cuz you're going to see something they don't and you...you give up."

"I'm not giving up, Ray, but there's..."

"Yes, there is. There has to be something. It's only been a couple of hours."

"I'm sorry, Ray, but I think the changes are random. I'm certain we can't track him that way."

"What are you two doing out here?" O'Neill asked as he came through the door.

"Shouldn't that be locked?" Ray asked.

"I'll get it," Fraser said. "Good evening, Colonel." He passed O'Neill and bolted the Consulate door.

"Come on, we need to talk," O'Neill said, leading the three of them back into the conference room.

August 3, 9:20pm

Once they were all gathered, Jack suggested everyone sit down. Daniel dug up a couple of pieces of pizza and set them on a plate in front of him.

"Thanks," he said. "We have a couple of breaks but first I need you to know something."

The three men watched him expectantly while he chose his words.

"It was a mistake to tell you two the truth. There're a lot of reasons to keep this a secret but now that you know, then we had to make sure we could trust you. After I left here I started background checks on the two of you. The first thing that came back was the several times Constable Fraser has been arrested and/or investigated. It looks like you were cleared every time but your service record is as long as a lot of rap sheets I've seen."

"I can assure you..." Fraser started but Jack interrupted him.

"It's all right. You have character references out the wahzoo and more mitigating circumstances than Carter's has pills. But that brings us to Vecchio over there. Interestingly enough Ray Vecchio is Italian, dark hair, green eyes, looks nothing like you."

"Hey, you're not supposed to be rattling around..."

"No, no we're not. The real Vecchio's life is on the line, not to mention a major federal operation. And it all falls on you, doesn't it, Detective Kowalski?"

"That's right, it does. You start people asking questions and you're gonna blow the whole thing."

"We're the government, discretion is what we do."

"Yeah, that, and plausible denial."

"His name is Kowalksi?" Daniel asked, meeting Jack's eyes and interrupting the scathing reply he was about to lob back. But, Jack knew what he was thinking, a big coincidence having a Ray Kowalski turn up when a Major Charlie Kawalsky is dead.

"No connection," Jack said and Daniel nodded. He turned back to his audience.

"Now, I'm telling you all this so you understand a couple of things. We are watching. We are paying attention to what you do, what you have done, what you're going to do in the future. It only took a couple of hours to pull up everything you two have been up to since puberty so don't underestimate our skill. What's happening right now is classified. You don't talk about it for any reason to anybody, is that clear?"

Kowalski mock saluted and sat down. Fraser said that he understood.

"Good. Now let me tell you what else I've been doing. First, we think we know where's he's going. According to Carter, he's heading towards Atlantic City."

"Where the statue came from," Daniel said.

"What statue?" Kowalski asked.

"The first time we encountered him, he was living inside a small statue."

"In Atlantic City?"

"No. Look, there are things about this that we can't answer, okay? The point is he's following a travel pattern consistent with another trip. It seems random to us, but according to one of his team members it makes sense."

"You got another alien?"

"Pipe down in the back," Jack growled. "The other thing we have is a solid lead on where the new Fraser is. We've already dispatched a team and as soon as they confirm, we can head over there."

"Where is he?" Fraser asked.

"Some burned out building over on, uh, Racing, no, Racine."

"Fraser, isn't that where..."

"Yes, I used to live on West Racine. My apartment burned down a few months ago."

"Really?" Daniel said, sounding excited. "If he went there then he's pulled more from you than your, uh, uh..."

"Go ahead and say it, Daniel," Jack said, resigned.

"Your life force," Daniel said.

"Next thing you know, we'll be calling Scotty to beam us up."

"Don't sound so discouraged," Kowalski said, grinning. "We're living the whole sci-fi, Star Trek, thingy. Heh."

Jack's pocket rang so he pulled his cell phone out. He walked out of the room for some privacy to take the call, but Daniel followed him. Daniel closed the door of the conference room on his way out.

"No, do not move in... We'll be there in ten... Just stay put unless he moves." Jack closed up the phone. "He's there."

"He's following the same trip that he and his wife took when they bought the statue, right?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, Carter talked to Colonel Leavitt yesterday and confirmed it."

"So, it is Bob."

"We already knew that, Daniel."

"But this confirms it. I wonder why he's taking the same trip."

"Leavitt said that Bob and his wife were getting ready to break up and they took this trip as a last shot at getting back together. They deliberately took a roundabout route just to add to the excitement or something. Anyway, it worked. After the trip, they decided to give it another try. That's why the statue was good luck to him. Unfortunately, it was only a few months later that he disappeared."

"So, obviously something of Bob is still in this new form. He must be trying to get back what he lost. Have you thought about bringing his wife here and seeing if she could draw him out?"

"The security risk is too high. Right now, his wife thinks he died in a training exercise. If we contact her or bring her into it, then it's going to open a lot of questions that we don't need from a grieving widow."

"But, Jack..."

"Don't argue with me about this." Jack went back into the conference room and Daniel followed.

"We've got the double," Jack said. "Let's head out."

August 3, 10:15pm

Once they were inside O'Neill's rental, with O'Neill driving, Daniel up front and Ray and Fraser in the back, Ray asked a question that occurred to him while he was helping with the research.

"Hey, Daniel, why didn't you tell us that you got zapped too?"

Daniel turned half around, his eyes widening behind his glasses. O'Neill adjusted the rearview mirror.

"What makes you think..."

"In the file I had. It describes a scientist in Colorado as the first victim. Your name and stuff was all blacked out but it was you, right?"

"I really can't answer that, Ray," Daniel said.

"I was just wondering if you got all the same symptoms that Fraser had. It was all I could do to keep him from mugging the waitress after he got whammied. How about you? It says it was extreme hunger and all that, but, you know, was it the same?"

Fraser leaned forward, clearly interested as well.

Daniel looked at O'Neill. O'Neill sighed. "Go ahead."

"It was more than hunger," Daniel said, eagerly. "It was like this desperate craving."

"Yes," Fraser agreed. "Like the most intense longing for food."

"Then when I was sated," Daniel continued. "Which took most of the cafeteria food in sight, I might add, I shut down. Instantaneously. Fell right into...another teammate's arms. He had to carry me down to medical."

"The exhaustion was akin to going without sleep for days," Fraser said.

"Luckily I got him in the car and to the hospital before he went out completely," Ray said.

"But when I woke up in the infirmary I was rested, no after effects, nothing. I felt good."

"This is it," O'Neill said as he pulled into a parking lot about a block from Fraser's burned out building.

The four men climbed out with O'Neill and Daniel looking around carefully.

"Nice neighborhood," O'Neill said, nodding towards a pair of prostitutes standing on the corner.

"Cecile and Brenda," Fraser said. "They would occasionally stop by for coffee on cold winter nights."

Daniel looked surprised but O'Neill just shook his head.

O'Neill opened the back and distributed four two way radios. Ray plucked Fraser's hat off his head and dropped it into the trunk.

"Keeping a low profile," he said when Fraser frowned at him.

"O'Neill to Powell," O'Neill said into his radio.

"Powell here, sir," the radio crackled. "We're on the roof across the street from the burned out building. We're using binoculars to watch him. He's sitting in the rubble, apparently sleeping."

"All right, you and Murphy stay where you are. We're going to move in from the north and south sides of the building to trap him."

"Yes, sir," Powell responded.

"How'd they find him?" Ray asked.

"They intercepted a police report on a suspicious person. Given the neighborhood, I'm surprised anybody called in. Daniel, you take this." He handed Daniel a device that looked like a taser but with a sealed end and more controls. "We have to get within ten feet for that to work."

Daniel nodded as he took the device.

"What does it do?" Fraser asked.

"Initially, it should paralyze the energy field he's putting out. Basically for him it will be like sticking in mud. He won't be able to move or change form," Daniel said.

"Once we have him contained, we'll get him to go smoke and then we'll seal him in an airtight container," O'Neill added.

"Won't he suffocate?" Ray asked.

"He doesn't breathe. All we're going to do is contain him. Nobody wants to hurt him."

"Somebody does," Ray said, clearly meaning himself. He pulled his gun out after attaching the radio clip to his belt.

"Shooting him won't help," O'Neill said. "You two take the front, we'll take the back. Just keep him in one place so Daniel and I can get close enough. Everybody clear?"

"Let's do it," Ray said. "Fraser, keep your head down. We don't want him to see you before we're ready."

The two teams split up. O'Neill and Daniel went first with Ray and Fraser waiting for a count of five to start down the street. By the time they exited the parking lot, O'Neill and Daniel were already going around the building. Ray put his glasses on in time to see them disappear at the corner.

"You know, uh, Daniel's a good guy and all but you think he's gonna hold up when we get within spitting distance of 'smokey'?" Ray asked

"Colonel O'Neill appears to have confidence in him."

"He's an archeologist, a civilian, Fraser. How many civilians do you know that can deal when the bullets start flying?"

"There are no bullets flying, Ray."

"Yeah, not yet. You know, not yet, sure. But what about in two minutes?"

"That remains to be seen."

"You're doing that on purpose."

"Doing what, Ray?"

"Going all reasonable and not saying what you think."

"What I think is that our subject is in view and we should exercise caution."

"Oh, yeah, caution's our middle name."

In the middle of the partially cleared wreckage of Fraser's old apartment building, sitting cross-legged with hands folded in his lap, they spotted Fraser's double. Ray signaled Fraser to stop several feet away where he wouldn't be seen. Then Ray climbed across a charred beam. The double looked up at the sound of scraping.

"Hey, pal, you got a cigarette you can spare?" Ray asked.

The double unfolded and stood in one motion. He blinked a couple of times but didn't answer. Over his left shoulder, Ray could see Daniel and O'Neill moving in.

"You know, a cigarette? I just need a smoke," Ray said.

The double made a noise that sounded like a mix between a cough, a bark and a laugh.

"No," the double said in a hoarse voice. He took another step towards Ray and Ray stepped back.

"That's okay, you're good where you are," he said.

The double darted forward with his hand outstretched. Just as his hand landed on Ray's shoulder, Ray saw Daniel fire the gadget. Ray found himself inside an orange light encircling both him and the double. He could see a white outline, like an aura surrounding the double and wondered if the same thing surround him. He felt his arms and legs freeze and his vision blurred. As he realized he was unable to move, he remembered that the aliens had paralyzed him when he was a boy too. With the darkness closed in, he thought it was strange that his heart wasn't pounding with the fear that the rest of him was feeling.

August 3, 10:45pm

Jack led the way to the back of the building in silence. He knew Daniel would be following close behind clutching the "freeze ray" that Carter developed. In his own pocket, he carried the glorified "mini-vac" that would draw the new Bob Rollins inside for transport. He doubted that they'd be able to bring the old Bob back but the man was a member of SG and he deserved their best effort.

Daniel touched his arm and pointed. The Fraser look-alike was still. He was sitting with his back to them. Jack nodded his acknowledgement as they crept forward carefully.

A moment later they heard Kowalski's voice as he occupied Rollins attention. When Rollins took a step towards Kowalski, Daniel leaped a couple of pieces of debris in an effort to cross as much as distance as possible. He needed to gain another few feet before he could fire.

Rollins closed in on Kowalski in a heartbeat. Daniel made a last effort at getting close enough and fired just as Rollins hand reached towards Kowalski's shoulder.

An orange light flashed up like a flame. Jack only had a moment to think that somehow they had set fire to Rollins and Kowalski before he was blinded entirely. Daniel fell back against him with a yell. Then as suddenly as the flame appeared, it extinguished and the night fell into black again.

By the time Jack could see past the spots in his eyes, Fraser was already in the rubble, pushing Kowalski over on to his back. The look alike was still a look alike but lay unmoving nearby. Jack took Daniel's arm and turned him to look at his face.

"Daniel? You all right?'

"I burned them," he said, his voice shaking and hoarse while he tried to blink his eyes clear.

"No, you didn't, Daniel. There was no fire."

"But, I...I..."

"Give your eyes a chance to clear. Nobody got burned."

Daniel sank down to a crouch, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jack patted his shoulder before he moved past to try to negotiate his way through the debris with his eyes still burning and blurry.

"Are you all right, Constable?" Jack asked.

"I shielded my eyes before the flash. Ray is unconscious. I don't see any blood and there're no lumps on his skull."

"He got caught in the energy blast."

Jack took the "min-vac" out of his pocket. He wiped at his eyes one last time before he pointed the device at Rollins. When he pressed the trigger, a pale light surrounded his body before it disintegrated into a smoky film. Jack pressed the second trigger and the smoke was drawn forcibly forward and sucked into a six inch cylinder. He slapped a seal into the small hole and checked to make sure it was secure before he put it back in his pocket.

Kowalski groaned softly while Fraser continued checking for injury. He blinked a few times before he jolted upward, knocking Fraser from his crouch. Kowalski patted his chest and legs furiously as if he were putting out invisible flames.

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray,"

"What!" Kowalski yelled.

"You're not burning," Fraser answered.

"I'm not?"

"You're not."

"Good...like... good."

"Yes."

"I feel kind of funny."

"I would imagine that's to be expected. Are you in any pain?"

"No, just...I just feel kind of weird, like I got shocked all over. Kind of tingly like that."

Jack stopped listening to Kowalski and Fraser and looked at Daniel as he approached

"How're your eyes?" He asked.

"Better. The glare refracted through my glasses. I thought they were going to burn out. I can't believe Sam didn't warn us about that."

"She probably didn't know. You can't re-create everything in a lab, Daniel."

"I thought I set them on fire." Daniel's eyes were wide as he spoke but his voice was soft.

"I know, but you didn't. There was no heat, no flame, just an orange light."

Daniel nodded with the hint of a smile before he turned around to watch Fraser pull Kowalski to his feet.

"He touched you," Daniel said. "Is there any burning sensation?"

Kowalski rocked back and forth on his feet, testing his balance as he answered.

"No. Kind of weird, huh? You must have zapped him before he could get me. Where is he anyway?"

"He's sealed in a tube in Colonel O'Neill's pocket," Fraser answered.

Kowalski barked out a laugh. "Of course he is."

"That's not something you hear every day," Daniel said with a full smile at Jack this time.

"Thank God," Jack said. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Jack radioed to Powell and Murphy to meet them at the car as they headed back towards the parking lot. Kowalski seemed steady enough and he hadn't lapsed into intense hunger or exhaustion yet. Jack hoped he wouldn't have to go through all that.

The four men reached the car and Jack opened the trunk to remove a metal, airtight medical case. He installed the tube inside, confident that the clips and the padding would keep Rollins safe until they could transport him back to Cheyenne Mountain. The Tok'ra indicated they might be able to find a real body for him to keep. Carter said they wouldn't know for sure until they were able to examine Bob's new form but she also said that her father and Selmak were optimistic.

Captain Powell and Airman Murphy showed up a few moments later. Jack returned their salute then handed over the case.

"Get this back to the base, ASAP. Don't open it and don't let it out of your sight."

"Yes, sir," Powell said and saluted again.

"Sir, yes, sir," Murphy chimed in next.

The two men walked off towards a second car at the other side of the parking lot. Being good soldiers, they hadn't asked about the flash of light that must have been clearly visible from their vantage point.

Before Jack closed the trunk he retrieved Fraser's hat and handed it to him.

Daniel, Kowalski and Fraser climbed into the car, taking up their previous positions. Jack followed into the driver's seat. He glanced in his rearview at Kowalski. The detective was starting to fidget and even in the darkened car, Jack could see that he didn't look good.

"We should stop and eat," Fraser said, turning his hat in his hands. "There's a burn in Ray's clothing, at the shoulder, where my double touched him. He may not have had time to transform into Ray but he has clearly affected him."

"Affect, yeah, I'd say so. I'm going to eat Fraser's hat in a second," Kowalski said, folding his arms in front of him and then releasing them nervously.

Jack pulled into the parking lot of the first restaurant he saw. It was a fast food chain, which suited their need for a quick solve to Kowalski's hunger.

Kowalski barely waited for the car to stop. He got out, shifting from one foot to the other, looking like an addict in need of a fix. He only waited a moment before he left everyone behind and went inside. Fraser looked after him and Jack could see the fondness in his eyes.

They followed Kowalski inside. Kowalski had already thrown a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. A bleary-eyed teenager counted out the change slowly then went to fill the order. Kowalski rubbed his arms while he paced in front of the counter. He spotted a display of cookie boxes, picked up the top one and shook it. He set it down, cursing under his breath as he discovered that it was empty.

Two large orders of fries appeared on a tray and Kowalski landed on them like a dog on steak. Fraser let him carry one container but took the other one and led Kowalski to a table. When the rest of his order came up, two double cheeseburgers, three fruit pies and two deep fried tacos, Daniel picked up the tray and carried it over.

Jack ordered three coffees, a large Coke and a hamburger before he followed them to the table. By the time he reached them, Kowalski had demolished both French fries, one of the cheeseburgers and a fruit pie. Jack set the soda in front of him and Kowalski gulped down half of it before he attacked the second cheeseburger.

Jack ate his own burger more slowly. He was hungry but nowhere near as ravenous as Kowalski.

Fraser handed napkins over from time to time but other than that, Kowalski didn't break from his feeding frenzy until all the food had been consumed with the exception of one half of one taco.

"That's unbelievable," Kowalski said as he sat back.

"The intensity is surprising," Fraser said. "It's a manifestation of raw survival. The need to eat is probably the strongest urge in existence for humans."

"I'll bet sex rates up there too," Kowalski said.

"Yes, it does," Daniel said, seriously.

"Okay, kids," Jack interrupted. "If Kowalski follows pattern, he's going to be sleeping any minute. Let's head out. We'll drop you two off and then Daniel and I need to go home."

"Good idea, Colonel," Fraser agreed.

August 5, 6:20am

Ray sat up slowly, rubbing the top of his head with one hand while he rubbed at his eyes with the other. He glanced around slowly, happy to see his own room and not some hospital bed or Fraser's office. His stomach growled as his nose picked up the scent of bacon.

He climbed out of bed, made a much needed pit stop and then went into the living room. He wasn't surprised to see Fraser's back through the open counter of his kitchen. What did surprise him was watching Fraser drop a piece of bacon that was soon snatched into the jaws of one half-wolf.

"Morning, Fraser," he said, knowing he had just caught the other man committing a small sin by feeding Diefenbaker a snack.

"Good morning, Ray." Fraser said, not acknowledging the sin. "How do you feel?"

"Good. Better than good."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Why don't you take a seat? Breakfast will be ready in a moment. I just have to finish scrambling the eggs."

Ray pulled a chair away from the small, dining table and sat down.

"What time is it?"

"It's nearly 6:30."

"You're cooking at six-thirty?"

"You've been sleeping for over 30 hours, Ray, I decided to fix breakfast and wake you."

"Thirty? You're kidding."

"Not at all."

"Jeez, you only did fifteen."

"I didn't get caught up in the energy device that Daniel used. But, I must say I was getting worried. I've checked your breathing and heart rate half a dozen times in the last day. And I've phoned Colonel O'Neill twice."

"Wow. He said it was normal?"

"He said as long as you were breathing and you could answer simple questions, then I shouldn't worry. He's supposed to call here in a couple of hours to check in though."

"Did I answer questions?"

"You passed all tests admirably. You have an excellent grasp of your name, the names of your parents, your address, your rank and Diefenbaker's birthday."

Ray frowned. "I don't know Dief's birthday."

Fraser grinned at him.

"A joke. Real nice, picking on the vegetable," Ray said. He thought a moment before he asked, "What about the charges against you on that hit and run?"

"Lieutenant Welsh phoned to say that all charges had been dismissed."

"You think O'Neill fixed things?"

"I believe so, yes."

August 5, 8:20am

"O'Neill." Jack stopped and turned around to wait for Teal'c to catch up. "General Hammond has requested our presence in the gate room."

"Do they have Bob ready to go?"

"Apparently."

The large Jaffa pressed the elevator button.

"Hey guys," Daniel said, when the elevator doors opened to reveal him.

"We are going to see to Major Rollins' transfer," Teal'c said.

"Me too. I wish he were happier about it though."

Jack shrugged. Carter had put together a device that allowed communications between Rollins and the medical staff. It wasn't exact and a lot of the ideas exchanged were garbled but they had explained as well as possible that sending him to the Tok'ra home world was his best chance for a normal life. Rollins had seemed to like the idea until he realized that it was unlikely that he'd ever get his old life back.

"Hey, we're getting him a body, a place to live and people to look after him. The Tok'ra may not be my favorite allies but all they're asking for is the chance to study him so they can get some kind of understanding of what happened. They've promised not to hurt him and they're offering a lot more than what he would've had."

"I know that, Jack. But, I understand that he's going to miss his wife too. It's going to be a hard adjustment for him."

Jack sighed, glad when the elevator opened. He didn't want Daniel to start dwelling on his dead wife or the years they spent looking for her.

"Well, Bob's not really himself anymore, mentally or physically. It's not like he'd be able to be with her if he stayed here," Jack said.

"I suppose not. Especially with his need to jump bodies all the time."

"Fraiser says that's not a need, it's a choice. He likes the sensation and that's why he changed so often. She can't see any other reason and he pretty much said that was it."

"True," Daniel agreed.

As they approached the gate room, Jack put a hand on Daniel's arm to slow him down.

"Stay out of the general's way, Daniel. He's not happy about our little security breach."

"At least he's not going to court martial you or stick me in prison."

"It was close, Daniel and he's still pissed. Just keep a low profile for a few days."

Teal'c waited at the bottom of the steps for Jack and Daniel to catch up. Then he let them go first.

Once they were in the control room, they watched as the wormhole engaged and Jacob Carter stepped through. Samantha Carter was waiting with a cubed container holding the being of Bob Rollins and the case holding the communications device. Jacob kissed his daughter on the cheek. The wormhole shut down. While they waited to establish a new connection, Jacob greeted the group of them standing in the control room. Hammond left the com open so they could listen as Carter explained what little they had learned from Rollins so far.

Several minutes later, a new wormhole engaged. Jacob waved good-bye, kissed Carter again and took Rollins and the communications device. He walked up the ramp and stepped through the shimmering pool of light.

They all watched the Stargate whoosh into silence before General Hammond turned around to face the three men of SG1.

"Colonel, Teal'c, Doctor Jackson," he said. He stalked past them leaving no doubt that Jack had assessed his mood correctly.

Jack patted Daniel's shoulder before he left as well.

End Where There's Smoke by Elizabeth Mc: intrvert@aol.com

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