Author's Note: I have a handful of Stargate stories I really haven't bothered to post anywhere other than my journal, and maybe my site. Since I'm very much in love again with Stargate at the moment, I'm trying to find them on my hard drive and get organized. This one is a little mini-fic and could probably take place in season four or five, or something. I don't remember when Lee is introduced, so I can't say for sure. Just that it's before then...

"Hey! Don't touch that! Why don't you go…kill something? This stuff is fragile."

Daniel looked up from the small clay vase in his hands in surprise, to find someone he had never seen before glaring back at him. He placed the vase down, and ran a hand through his mud splattered hair.

He was still wearing his green fatigue pants, his pistol strapped to his thigh and his thin black t-shirt frayed and torn. His glasses had broken, and he'd thrown them away after his check-up. He supposed he really didn't look very much like the scientist he was.

"What are you even doing here?" the man demanded, pulling on the neck of his blue sweater and looking suddenly nervous.

Daniel's lips twitched upwards slightly, even though part of his mind was whispering this wasn't funny at all. He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the desk. "This is my office," he said. "Maybe I should be asking what you're doing here."

The man's eyes widened in disbelief, and he pushed his glasses back on his nose. "You're Doctor Jackson?" he demanded incredulously.

Daniel glanced around his office. "Last time I checked," he said, moving to sit at his desk. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm Doctor Lee," he said, still sounding thrown off balance. "But you, I mean...I hadn't been expecting…"

Daniel mock-frowned, and for show, slammed his muddy boots on the surface of his desk and crossed them at the ankles. He leaned back in his chair. "Expecting what?"

Dr. Lee swallowed. He had heard as much of Dr. Jackson's accomplishments in the fights with the Goa'uld as all the secrets he had unlocked, but he was still surprised at what he saw. He'd been expecting someone more like…well, like him.

Jack stormed into the office, one side of his face covered in streaks of mud. "Daniel!" Jack glanced briefly at the other man in the room, before dismissing him completely and returning his attention to his friend. "We've got a debriefing in ten. Hammond wants to know what the hell happened to us." He looked Daniel up and down, taking in his tattered appearance. "I can't say I blame him."

"Sure, Jack. I guess we don't have time to clean up, huh?"

Jack grinned slightly. "Think of it this way, by the time we're finally finished, this mud should chip right off."

Daniel glared at him and planted his feet back on the floor. "Very funny," he snapped.

Jack laughed and turned around, shouting, "Ten minutes, Daniel, don't be late!" as he disappeared through the door.

"That was Colonel O'Neill?" Lee asked, sounding strained.

Daniel glanced at him, having forgotten he was there, and noticed he looked terrified. "Yes. Don't worry, he's a marshmallow," Daniel said, waving a hand dismissively. "Now, did you actually need something? Because I have to get to the debriefing."

Lee looked embarrassed. "Well, no, actually...I just, I had thought, when I saw, and I didn't..."

Daniel sighed. He understood this kind of rambling, having spoken it often enough. "You thought I wasn't supposed to be here and you were worried I would break something?" he asked.

Lee nodded. "I'm very sorry, Dr. Jackson, had I known"

"Not a problem, Dr. Lee," Daniel said, though he wasn't sure at all how he felt about being mistaken for a soldier with no right to be in his own office. He bit his lip. "I have to go, Jack will kill me if I'm late," he said.

He glanced at Lee pointedly when he did not move, and getting the hint, Lee fled the room. Out in the hall, Daniel closed his office door and locked it behind him. "Wouldn't want anyone wandering in," he said when Lee glanced back at him.

Lee nodded and turned quickly down another hall.

Daniel leaned back against the closed door. "Like some scientist that doesn't know what he's doing," he whispered.

His hand fell to the pistol, and he reminded himself to drop it off at his locker before he went to the briefing room. And to pick up his spare glasses along the way.

The End.