He was bustling around his office, trying to straighten up after an avalanche of papers on his desk had buried his computer. The knock at the door took him by surprise, and he overbalanced, scattering his papers again. “Just a minute!” he carefully extracted himself from his office and closed the door behind him before going to answer the door.
The person who, finally, opened the door matched the descriptions she’d been given — dusty blond, glasses, and a vague air of preoccupation. She hadn’t quite expected academic cute, but that was okay too. “Doctor Daniel Jackson?” she asked. “I need your help.”