CHAPTER FOUR: SANDWICHSIDE PONDERINGS

After an hour or so of searching high and low, Ellen managed to pull up a few articles about the strange theory. The only problem was, it wasn't a theory. She'd seen pyramid-like structures used for just that purpose more times than she could count. Well, Daelan had anyhow. For all points and purposes, she had as well.

Hey now, take a look at this. She pulled up another article. It was an excerpt from an essay on the subject by a Dr. Daniel Jackson. It seems our man has a name.

You could have just asked Mark, Daelan remarked dryly. Ellen made a face.

Oh, shut up. Besides, now we have a better idea of what this Dr. Jackson knows...or thinks he knows. She tapped the articles she had printed out into a neat stack and stuck it in her backpack with everything else. A quick glance at her watch made her eyes widen in surprise.

"Dang! It's almost 12:00!" I've got to go meet Mark. You can take us if you like - go ahead and take a look at where to go.

Daelan let out a long sigh and stood, looking around. He'd seen the building already, but it always felt different to look at things himself. He would have stood there taking in his surroundings for some time had Ellen not prodded him on.

As they strode quickly toward the designated meeting place, Daelan noticed not for the first time the surprising lightness he was able to incorporate into his step. He had not had such a small host since Ha'nyyah at his first blending. Daelan thoughtfully noted that while, if he stayed on this planet, stealth would not be so vital, it would be much easier to teach Ellen than many of the others. Just to practice, he carefully changed his walk so that the gravel beneath Ellen's feet no longer crunched with each step. A small grin began to take hold as he picked up the pace, still attempting to maintain the silent tread. He could feel Ellen's attention on him, watching and feeling the movements with studious care.

He finally slowed the pace as they came back onto the paved area and walked across the way to a small café. He wondered why they hadn't simply gone to the food court near the library, but Ellen instantly, and rather loudly, insisted that the food there was no good and the prices outrageous. Daelan suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, and couldn't quite do it, so control was quickly handed back to Ellen.

She opened the door, a smile of pleasure lighting up her face at the sound of the jingle bells. She took a step to one side to allow a small group of freshmen out the door and turned toward the counter.

Ahem. So...what do you feel in the mood for? Soup? Salad? Sandwich? She scanned over the menu and paused on the soups section. Daelan gave a mildly wistful comment.

What I wouldn't give for one of those wonderful stews Andy used to make.

Soup, then?

All the soups on the menu have onions in them. The statement was made with obvious distaste. Ellen made a face.

Don't tell me you don't like onions either? Good grief, first chocolate, then coffee...is there anything you like?

There was a pause before he answered in a slightly sheepish tone, knowing beforehand what kind of reaction he would get.

Fish is good.

That is it. Ellen growled. We are having a BLT and no complaints. Got it? He didn't answer directly, but whether or not he was happy with the idea would not have effected her decision anyhow. She was already ordering. For a fleeting moment Daelan wished he could just take over long enough to order something he recognized, but threw the thought aside with a resigned air. His principles compromised over a sandwich. What would his fellows say?

They sat down at a two-person table in the far corner and waited. After a few moments of boredom Daelan's thoughts began to wander. He brought up sharp memories of various times he'd seen a Chappa'ai activate. As one of the youngest of the Tok'ra, he had a way of looking at things which was not necessarily shared by his elders. One example of this would be that he enjoyed watching the wormhole stabilize more than the practical use of the device. It really was quite spectacular, spinning to one side and seeming to collapse in on itself and burst out the other side before solidifying into a wall of energy.

He was so lost in his musings that he didn't even realize when the food came, nor when Mark walked in the doors and spotted Ellen, sitting down across from her. She herself was quite distracted by her symbiote's memories. It wasn't until Mark spoke that either of them even fully registered his arrival.

"How ya doin'?"

Daelan jerked out of his reverie and Ellen twitched slightly, at last focusing on the young man sitting across from her.

"Oh! I...I'm just fine. Thanks. I went online and...researched your friend."

Smooth. Daelan said wryly. Stay calm. He doesn't know anything.

Mark's expression darkened and he looked down at his hands. Ellen could have slapped herself. No tact. Whatsoever.

When it was obvious Mark wasn't going to say anything, she went on.

"He seemed like a really interesting person. I wish I could've met him...I like his theories. They actually do make sense, kind of."

Mark was silent, refusing to meet her eyes. Ellen sank back and let Daelan take temporary control as she internally took out her frustration and dejection at the lack of response. The Tok'ra pondered how he should continue the conversation. Neither party said a word for several dragging moments.

"Did you actually see the body?" Mark's head snapped up with surprise at the unexpected question.

"What?"

"Did you actually see the body?" Daelan repeated persistantly, "You don't know for sure that he's dead unless you've seen the body." Mark gave a dry laugh, almost, but not quite, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Like I get this letter with all the details and it's a fake. Why on Earth would anyone want to make me think some eccentric archaeologist I haven't seen for years died in an accident...if it wasn't true?"

Daelan looked down and absently began twirling a fork between his fingers.

"Still, you can never be sure. I've seen some pretty amazing -" he halted and tripped over his next words, "- amazing things happen around...here..."

Amazing WHAT?

What?

You were going to say resurrections. Amazing resurrections! What the hell?

Can we discuss this at a later date?

"Ellen...what exactly makes you think that there is anything strange going on? Why, for that matter, are you so suddenly interested in a random friend of mine? A random, dead, friend of mine."

Ellen found control forced upon her once again, as much as she suddenly wanted to escape the responsibility for this conversation. She licked her lips and took a breath as if to say something, then let is out in a slow sigh. Then a resolve began forming in her mind. Her gaze was intense as she leaned forward slightly.

"Mark, I need to talk to you about something, but it'll have to be somewhere else. It's important, and...Lanie won't be around tonight, so how about you come over to my place. And...I'd like to see the letter, too." Mark's brown eyes narrowed.

"Why -" she cut him off.

"Have you ever had a feeling that made no logical sense whatsoever, and then turned out to be right?" Silence met her in response, but her friend gave her a reluctant nod. Ellen smiled and stood to leave.

"I'll explain everything, I hope, later. Mark, I think he's alive." And with that, she simply left.

Mark stared after her blankly, feeling strangely trepeditious about the coming evening. The other customers at the little café ignored him, their casual chatter closing in around him and yet ignoring him completely. Only one thought broke the emptiness of his thoughts.

I think he's alive too.