Epilogue: Hey, Daniel, its you.

… Imagine My Surprise …

Nicholas Ballard, respected Ph.D. in archaeology had been looking for his grandson Dr. Daniel Jackson for eight years now. It had been rumored that he was last seen in Egypt, but Nicholas knew his nephew and did not think he would stay there overlong.

He wanted to share his greatest discovery, the crystal skull in Belize, with the young archaeologist.

It had teleported him to see these giant aliens in 1971 and the other members of the family had tried to keep him away from the boy.

Why would they not want me to share this marvel of science with my own grandson? he wondered silently to himself. He knew his mind was a little addled, but that should be no reason not to let him see the boy.

Dr. Ballard had been at the University of Rouen-Upper Normandy in France for a week now. He was lecturing at a seminar on Crystal Skulls and his theory that they had a higher meaning.

Today, he had no lectures scheduled, so he decided to take a walk along the River Seine.

He had purchased a gyro from a street-side vendor, sat on a bench near a scenic view of the river and ate the vegetable and lamb filled pita pocket. Once he had his fill, Nicholas threw his leavings in a wastebasket and continued his walk along the river's edge.

Suddenly, he noticed a body in the water and ran to pull whoever it was out of the water.

Even though he had not seen his grandson since he was sixteen years old, when he had graduated from Columbia University, the old man recognized Daniel Jackson the moment he gazed into the young man's face. He ignored the fact that the boy was covered in blood, and that the boy had a sword clenched in his right hand.

Even though he did not know how long the boy had been in the river, the old man relied on his CPR training. Nicholas Ballard kicked into overdrive to save the boy. He was positive it was his grandson as he blew air into the boy's starved lungs. He then moved to give chest compressions.

After a few seconds, the boy regurgitated the muck and brine of the Seine and took in a large gulp of air.

Nick helped the young man rise into a seated position.

"Daniel," Nick exclaimed as he pounded on the boy's back.

As the coughing fit subsided, the young man looked at the older man with an obvious question on his face. "Who are you?"

The seasoned archaeologist's eyes widened in shock, "What do you mean, 'Who are you'?"

"I don't recognize you," the young man sounded defensive as he continued, "I'm even wondering who I am."

"Well, I know you," Nicholas almost growled, "You're Dr. Daniel Jackson, archaeologist, and I'm Dr. Nicholas Ballard, also an archaeologist, your grandfather."

"My grandfather," the young man whispered in surprise. He did not know if what the old man said was true, but the name Daniel sounded right. "Are you sure I am who you claim I am?" he wondered aloud.

"I'm positive you're my grandson; you have Claire's blue eyes. I'm not crazy," the old man growled as he gripped the boy's arms with surprising strength. His voice softened as he said, "Here, let me help you up."

Nicholas helped the younger man to his feet near the bank of the River Seine. "Rest, Daniel, and catch your breath," he commanded as he assisted his grandson to a bench nearby and helped him to sit. He then pulled a water bottle from a pocket in his coat and offered it to the other man.

"Here, drink this, its just water," he said soothingly.

Daniel drained the water from the small bottle and handed it back to the older man. "I can't believe how thirsty I was." He sounded surprised.

"Yeah, with the fact that you've drunk most of the Seine, I can completely understand," Nick joked with a small smile.

The young man scoffed in a cross between a laugh and a snort and eyed the older man. "That's pretty bad," he said.

"See, you're Daniel," Nicholas nodded as he folded his arms across his chest. "You're the only one who'll laugh at my bad jokes."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," he agreed with a roll to his eyes.

"Can you stand, son?" the old man asked as he offered his hand.

The blue eyed man shrugged as he clasped hands with the archaeologist and the old man helped him to stand on shaky, water logged legs.