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Title: Barista 38 -- Serendipity
Notes: Apologies once again for taking so long to post - I literally started this series the week I applied to graduate school, and I have a funny feeling it will finish about the time I get my degree. Tough quarter, I'm afraid. Now, no panicking -- I'm taking the s l o w route for this darn degree of mine. ;> This one is extra long, and dedicated to everyone who wanted more Daniel and Kira. Susan, the knitting reference is for you! Are we there yet? I catch myself looking out the window for the umpteenth time and sigh. Absently, I grab another couple of ice cubes from the near-empty plastic cup on the table in front of me and pop them into my mouth. I draw a vague kind of solace from crunching my ice cubes loudly. I look up at the assorted lights and dials above my head and wonder if they glow in the dark. Geeze, I'm bored. Listlessly, I pick up one of my textbooks and randomly thumb through the pages. This is the problem with large, academic texts: no pictures. Normally these things don't faze me, but today..? Never before has history seemed so boring. I know! Complete sacrilege on my part. Maybe if I were studying ancient aviators instead of astronomers... I sigh again as I close the book, and toss it back inside my backpack. Let's face it - life at 30,000 feet is just not that exciting. Now maybe if I were flying the airplane... I smile at the notion, and absently wonder if Jack or Sam knows how to fly. I mean, they're Air Force, right? Of course, they can fly! Wonder if they can do any of those sweet air tricks like the Thunderbirds do? That would be so cool! I look at my watch and discover to my dismay that only 45 minutes have passed since we left Denver. So not fair! I've actually been on this airplane for nearly three hours, and all I have to show for it is 45 minutes of air time? Someone up there definitely doesn't like me. First we were delayed due to a luggage conveyer belt malfunction; then the emergency light came on for no reason and we had to have it repaired before they would allow us to taxi on the runway. And just when we were about to pull away from the gate, we got word that a VIP of some kind was on his way, and we needed to wait just a little while longer. 35 minutes longer, I might add. And to make matters worse - I'm hungry. Idly I wonder if first class gets any lunch on flights like this. I'm dressed somewhat nicely - maybe I can sweet talk the steward folks into an apple or something. Normally the 2 hour, 40 minute flight doesn't serve food for us plebes, and it has been ages since my last pack of peanuts. I study my hands for a few seconds and wish I had brought a deck of cards or something. Maybe some string? Cat's cradle would have entertained me for at least a few minutes. I sigh. Maybe it's time to take up knitting. It might not make my stomach any happier, but it sure would give my fingers something to do. I crane my neck and look down the aisle to see if there are any flight folk or beverage carts in sight. Completely devoid of human life. Well, isn't this just ducky? I refuse to sigh again, and look back down at my crushed Diet Coke can and empty bag of peanuts. Are we there yet? Deciding that enough is enough I stuff my now empty (and slightly cracked) cup into the seat pocket and fold my table back up into the upright and locking position. I politely excuse myself and take to the streets. I mean aisles. I have no real destination; I just need to get up for a bit. Sitting still isn't one of my better traits. First I head to the back of the plane, but a line seems to have formed around the two small bathrooms and to be honest, I actually do need to go. I see they have begun stocking the beverage cart, so I decide to risk heading up to first class. I'm hoping I can use their gild-plated johns before the flight crew makes it up to my seat. No. I don't know for a fact that their bathrooms are ultra-posh - I'm just supposing here. Have I mentioned that I'm bored? I successfully sneak through the closed curtains and make my way past the rich and famous towards the bathrooms. For just 25,000 airline miles, I too could have upgraded to leather seats and genuine cutlery. I eye their honey-glazed cashews with desire. Have I mentioned that I'm hungry? I poke my head around the corner of the galley in search of a stray package of nuts or something. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough and I catch the eye of one of the flight attendants. She doesn't look happy. "Miss, you shouldn't be up here." Busted! "Um, I was just looking for..." "This is business class," the flight attendant sternly tells me, as she motions me to move out of her area. "I know that," I begin. And I do too. I just wanted to see if this would work. I hear the rustle of someone coming up behind me, but pay it little concern. I am too busy concentrating on trying to sweet talk my way back to the economy cabin with a bag of nuts. "I'm just looking for..." "Kira?" I whip my head around and gape at the owner of a voice I know so well. "Daniel?" No way! I mean, it was odd enough running into him in Seattle - but on an airplane bound for Chicago?! "Do you know this woman, sir?" The flight attendant asks. I think she is a little put out that I appear to have been rescued. I bet she gets a secret thrill out of sending people like me back to cattle class. "Maybe a little," Daniel replies smiling. "Daniel!" I cajole, giving him my best 'Rescue me!' look. "You don't mind if I take my friend back to my seat with me, do you?" Daniel asks. The flight attendant opens up her mouth with what I'm certain would have been a denial, but Daniel beats her to the punch. "The seat beside me is empty, and I'm sure my friend here won't cause any problems." Uh uh! Not me! I resist grinning at Daniel. Best to wait until I have my seat first. "Fine," the flight attendant replies, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Go have a seat, miss." She is totally doing her job here, so I don't take it personally. "Thanks!" I reply gratefully. "You wouldn't by chance have an extra bag of nuts hanging around would you..?" Two package of nuts and a Diet Coke later, I'm happily seated next to Daniel. Who, I might add is looking particularly nice. And when I say nice, I mean drop-dead gorgeous. Daniel Jackson, archaeologist, linguist and occasional trouble-magnet, is dressed in a swanky suit that probably cost more than my tuition this quarter. At the very least, the same as the cost of this historical conference I'm attending. It's a really nice suit. Have I mentioned how nice Daniel looks in suits? "You're lucky I came along," Daniel begins as I take my eyes off his suit and rip open my prized booty. "Otherwise, you might have starved to death or something." I know he's making fun of me, but frankly, I don't really care right now. I did say I was hungry. "I'm hungry," I reply in a muffled voice, as I stuff an overly large handful of nuts into my mouth. Happily, I savor the salt and fat. Sustenance! "You've been on this plane as long as I have," I continue, swallowing the nuts and taking a large, satisfying drink of my soda (served in a glass tumbler, I might add). "You know how long we've been stuck out here without food or water." Daniel wrinkles his forehead in confusion. "Kira, are you hypoglycemic or something?" he asks seriously. "We only took off 45 minutes late." "What are you talking about, Daniel?" I reply. "We took off nearly three hours after we boarded!" "Really?" "What do you mean really?" The lack of food must be starting to affect me. How could Daniel not realize how long we lingered on that runway? I mean, I know he can be absent-minded at times, but come on! It isn't like there are some enthralling translations to work on out here. "Um...," Daniel begins uncomfortably. "I only waited 45 minutes." "You were our VIP?" I ask incredulously. Holy crap! I mean, I know that Daniel is important to Jack and the folks he works with, but to have the power to hold up a jetliner? That's some heavy-duty mojo! I continue to stare at Daniel in shock as I gulp down my soda and contemplate what all of this means. "Daniel, you have the power to alter flight traffic?" I ask seriously. I had a cousin who worked as an air flight controller at Dulles - I have some idea of how difficult it is to delay an airplane for a single passenger. Usually, they just ask the individual to wait until the next flight. Daniel has the good grace to look a little embarrassed. "I was told this was the next flight to Chicago," he says. "It was the next flight for Chicago," I explain. "But we were already two hours late!" "Dammit, Jack!" Daniel mutters, turning red. "If it turns out you wanted me on this flight for the frequent flyer miles.." "What?!" I shout. Well maybe not shout, but I do raise my voice. Daniel shakes his head and sighs. "I only found out this morning that a professor and mentor of mine had passed away," Daniel begins. "I'm sorry." "Thanks," Daniel replies, giving me a small smile. "I hadn't actually talked to Dr. Jordan in years, but he really did teach me a lot." Daniel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I read about the accident that killed him in one of those tabloid newspapers, and when I researched the details, I discovered that the funeral was going to be held today." "Hence, the suit?" I ask giving him an innocent leer. At least I hoped it looked innocent. "Hence the suit," Daniel agrees nodding. "Sam helped pick this out for me earlier this year." "Sam has good taste." That's about as far as I'll go in letting Daniel know how good he looks. "I'll make sure to tell her." I need to get the topic off of Daniel and his fabulous-looking suit. "So you found out about the funeral today and had to make a lot of last-minute arrangements.." "I needed to head home and pack, so Jack said he would get me on the next plane and make sure I have a car rental and all of that in Chicago," Daniel explains. "The funeral is at 1 PM." A look of sadness passes over his face. "I'm sure this really was the first available flight, Daniel." "I'd like to think Jack didn't pull strings in order to hold up an entire airplane for me.." Daniel starts. "Although it would be something I kinda see Jack doing," I admit. I don't have a clue how he'd do it. But Colonel Jack O'Neill doesn't strike me as the type of guy who waits for things to happen. "That's what I'm afraid of," Daniel says with a sigh. He then turns to me and gives me a bashful smile. "This is my first flight in business class." "Mine, too!" A few minutes later both Daniel and I get served lunch. Guess whatever strings Jack pulled to get Daniel into Business Class, also extended to his wayward companion. "So Kira, why are you on this flight?" Daniel asks. "I won a scholarship to attend the AHA Conference in Chicago!" I say proudly. I've never been to a conference before. "American Historical Association?" "Uh huh," I nod. There's a special presentation by AAH.." I look over and see Daniel nodding. "Association of Ancient Historians," he fills in automatically. Guess Daniel does know the acronym lingo. "Yep," I confirm, nodding again. "AAH will be sponsoring an exhibit on maps of the old world, as well as doing a panel discussion on fostering international cooperation amongst antiquities museums and research universities." "You want to do historical research?" Daniel asks. I shrug. "I still don't know exactly what I want to do with this degree of mine, Daniel," I begin. "But I do know I want to do something a little different." "Different," Daniel repeats, smiling to himself. "Don't laugh at me, Daniel," I say a little too sharply. I'm hearing it enough from my parents. If I were standing, I'd be putting my hands on my hips about now. "I'm not laughing, Kira," Daniel insists. "Really?" "Really." Daniel chuckles wryly and shakes his head a little. "I was only smiling because you sounded a bit like I did ten years ago," he explains. "What were you working on ten years ago?" I ask. I know Daniel has all sorts of secrets about what he does now, but maybe he's not so secretive about the past. "I was Dr. Jordan's archaeology assistant actually," Daniel explains. "I had all these crazy ideas..." "You mean about the Egyptian pyramids being built a few thousand years before they were supposed to?" If we weren't in an airplane, I swear Daniel would have leapt from his seat in astonishment. "You know about that?" I shrug. "I googled you, Daniel," I explain. "I found a reference to a conference you talked at back in 1994 or 95." "Google." Daniel repeats, not sounding like he understands. "It's a slick new search engine," I explain. I had been a beta-tester of Google two years ago, and now used the search engine exclusively. "I never even considered that," Daniel says to himself. "Considered what?" I ask. "The Internet," he answers. "How long have you known about my being the laughingstock of the archaeological world?" There's a fair amount of bitterness in his voice, but it's tempered with something else I can't quite figure out. "All I could find on you Daniel," I say honestly, "was some random snippets of information about how brilliant you are.." Daniel blushes a little at this. "And an interview from a guy who attended a conference you gave back in the mid-90s." "That's it?" He asks. "That's it," I confirm. "You pretty much dropped off the face of the earth after 1995 - I never found out what you were working on after that. I figured you gave the talk, got embarrassed, went to Egypt, met your wife and then, eventually, came back to the States and became Mystery Archaeology man with Jack." I'm totally fishing here. Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky. "Something like that," Daniel answers enigmatically. Arrgggh! So much for finding out more. I actually have googled Daniel three or four times since that first attempt at looking for him using Yahoo's search engine. Nothing new showed up on Yahoo or AltaVista or even HotBot! One of these days... "I think you'd make a great researcher, Kira," Daniel says. Way to change the subject, Daniel. "Maybe," I concede. "All I know is that I don't want to just do static research. You know, one of those historical projects that gathers data for the purpose of discovering what year exactly men started wearing pants." Daniel lets out a short laugh. "What?" The prospect of discovering when men decided to wear pants makes Daniel laugh? "I just know a couple of guys who still don't like to wear pants," Daniel explains, still smiling. "Well that's odd." There aren't a lot of men who wear kilts these days, but there are a few. I mentally snap my fingers. Doofus! Daniel is also an Anthropologist - I'm sure he knows lots of of non-Westerners. "What kind of research do you want to do?" Daniel asks with interest. I consider the question seriously. "I just need to have some sort of goal or something, Daniel," I begin. "I honestly don't need for it to be something as lofty as saving the world from AIDS or anything, but I need to have a goal." I give Daniel a sideways glance. "Do I sound totally ridiculous?" I ask. I might not care if my parents thought I was an idealistic dreamer, but if Daniel did as well... well, maybe I might reconsider my options. "You don't sound ridiculous, Kira," Daniel replies seriously. "And I bet you'll find the perfect project one day. Who knows? You might find something at that conference." There is absolutely nothing in Daniel's voice that should lead me to this conclusion, but I don't think he's hopeful I'm going to discover my perfect job this weekend. The remaining hour on the flight passes quickly as Daniel and I chat about history and language. The more I talk to Daniel, the more I wish he were teaching somewhere. The man is just so damn smart, you know? It is an absolute pleasure talking with him. We land, and Daniel sweetly offers to drive me to my hotel. I know he's on a tight schedule though (it's already noon) and politely decline. I feel guilty with the knowledge that I have never attended a funeral before. I can offer him no words of solace (as if there really are such things), and only give him another hug as we say goodbye. It is nearly a week later when I see Daniel again. It was one of those brilliant sunny October days here in Colorado Springs, and Daniel walks into the coffee shop looking like something the cat dragged in. There's something just fundamentally wrong with the fact that he looked better on his way to a funeral than he did coming home from one. Once again he had that weird sunburned forehead thing going on and he looked, frankly, like crap. More of that 'weight of the world' air about him. "Hi Daniel," I say trying not to stare at his forehead. It was all red and blistery, and looked quite painful. How the hell does one go about getting a sunburn only on the forehead? "Hey Kira," Daniel greets me. "How was the conference?" "I think I was the youngest person there by several decades," I reply forlornly. "That bad?" Daniel asks. "Oh, it wasn't bad or anything - I just felt incredibly young and stupid." "You're not stupid," Daniel corrects. "I'm certainly young though!" I insist. "I had several men tell me I reminded them of their granddaughters!" I knew they meant well, but I found it pretty offensive. I mean come ON! Where's the professionalism? "The next one will be better," Daniel insists. "Maybe." I look at Daniel critically. "Care to tell me what happened to you?" I ask lightly. Daniel wraps his arms absently around his chest. "Not really," he replies. It isn't just his body language that is saying 'Back Off'; there's something really sad about Daniel. I don't press it. "Dr. Janet knows about your weird sunburn though, right?" I might not milk him for details, but if he's hiding things from Jack or Janet, I might become pushy. Daniel gives me a slight smile. "Yes, Kira," he says in a slight sing-song voice. "Both Janet and Jack know about my sunburn." "I'm just saying," I begin, "that it looks kinda painful." "I'll be fine." "I don't doubt that for a moment!" I reply. Daniel smiles and orders a shockingly sweet triple tall macadamia nut almond mocha. "Yowza!" I say in surprise. "What's with the drink, Daniel?" "Stefan turned me on to it a few weeks ago," Daniel replies in explanation. "Turned you on, eh?" I repeat suggestively. I know exactly what he means, but I can't help but tease him just a little. Daniel turns bright red and I laugh. Teasing Daniel is soooo much fun! "You know what I mean, Kira," Daniel says sounding put out. "I'll just have to ask Stefan," I reply coquettishly, as I make him his drink. "You do realize I'm injured already, don't you?" Daniel tries, in an attempt to make me stop out of sympathy. "You said you were fine Daniel," I reply sweetly. I hand him his drink and ring up the change. Despite the teasing, Daniel leaves me a healthy tip. "I think I liked the hero-worship better," he grumbles good-naturedly as he gives me a slight wave and exits the store. Author's Notes: All sorts of archaic references in this one! The stuff about Google and search engines is true. I've added yet another layer of understanding between Kira and Daniel, and although it might be obvious to us what's going on with Daniel, Kira really doesn't quite get it. Yet. Be patient... I'll do my darndest to post once more before the month is out. I am so sorry I haven't been emailing folks as often as I would like. I really, sincerely, appreciate all the wonderful feedback and encouragement you send me. It's been a rough month on the home front, and I just haven't had time to write everyone back. I will though. Promise! Thunderbirds: Elite group of Air Force pilots. They do amazing aerial stunts. Cat's Cradle is a string game. Details can be found here: http://www.ifyoulovetoread.com/book/chten_cats.htm American Historical Association (AHA) - http://www.historians.org/annual/past.htm. And get this - it WAS in Chicago in 2000! Association of Ancient Historians: http://www.trentu.ca/ahc/aah/welcome.shtml Completed February 6, 2005 |