Dearth
by Carrie

A person can do a lot of things in seven seconds. I’ve recently discovered all I can do, and I check the list once more. Let’s see – I can tie both of my shoes, open fifteen cans of beer and drink one, floss my teeth and recite the alphabet in three languages all in seven seconds. Not all at once, of course. No, that would be impossible. And these are just the tip of the iceberg. Why on Earth does it matter what can be done in seven seconds? It shouldn’t matter at all; it matters so much. The answer is lying down in the infirmary. Seven long, torturous seconds in which I did nothing put Jack O’Neill there. Cut down right in front of me. Seven goddamn seconds.

Sam says the situation was beyond my control; Teal’c assures me not even Bra’tac could have saved Jack. But I know better. My research has proved, and facts don’t lie. One or both will come looking for me soon, worried at my seclusion, worried because I’m not at Jack’s bedside. I can’t be there, I can only be here. Research to conduct. Listening and watching the video evidence of my failure, my complete ineptitude, while one of the truest friends I’ve ever known slips farther and farther away. The screen is blue again. I rewind the tape, suffer my penance one more time and set up my next challenge.

“Hey, Daniel, come look at this!” Jack calls out, sounding far too excited.

I don’t know what he’s so excited about. This whole mission has been a bust as far as I’m concerned; no signs of civilization PLUS there’s something nasty floating around in the air, making my allergies flare up with a vengeance. It’s not pretty for me, and I know my temperament is the primary reason Sam and Teal’c offered to split from Jack and me. I sigh deeply, fingering the video camera. I hit record and pan across landscape that’s frighteningly dull.

“What is it, Jack?” I know I sound like a tired housewife, which is okay because I feel like one, too. One who’s stuck in a car with a husband who finds the new term life insurance he sells utterly fascinating and has to share every blessed detail.

“Do you see that down there?” Jack’s pointing into a deep ravine. Odd, I didn’t notice it before. It seems really out of place. “Those look like buildings. This could be your lucky day.”

Okay, I can see why that would excite me but it should make him cranky. I take a step closer to him and he takes a step closer to the edge. Sighing with exasperation, I nudge a little closer. Which is when I notice it – the foundation at the precipice is obviously eroding. Realization strikes as Jack takes one more step away from me.

“Jack!”

It’s here where the seven seconds come to play, so I grab the package of cookies, wait for the exact moment and then shove as many as possible into my mouth.

He teeters on the edge as if he can somehow salvage the situation, and I’m frozen. I can’t move, can’t breathe at all. Jack turns slightly, his eyes catching mine and then he falls.

I can cram thirteen mini Oreos into my mouth in seven seconds! I add it to my tally and keep watching the tape. The video camerawork itself leaves much to be desired but that doesn’t matter. I’ve got my own images. I know I should rewind at this point and try again; thirteen seems a small number. I bet I can do more than that. I hover my thumb over the rewind button, deciding that won’t do me any good. The real self-punishment part of the piece is coming up.

All I can do is watch as his body bounces terribly down the slope, though I can see he’s trying to retain some control. The drop isn’t vertical, but it’s steep enough he’s steadily building speed. Gasping harshly, I unfreeze at last, far too late. I don’t even think about it. Still clutching the camera in one hand, I plop onto my butt and scoot to the edge to follow Jack down.

I can see exactly where his fall is taking him. Oh, God. I don’t want to see this, I have to see this. Jack’s flopping now, and I hope he’s unconscious. There’s a huge boulder about halfway down the cliff, and he’s on a collision course for it. I can’t stop him now, no. My chance has already passed. Panting, I ignore the discomfort of sharp rocks as they dig into my legs and butt, determined to at least be at his side.

“Jack!” I scream stupidly as he finally impacts the rock with an ominous thud I swear echoes back to me a thousand times.

I reach him, scrabbling and crawling to his side. There’s blood all over him and the boulder. Oh, God, his eyes are open, unfocused. How can he even be conscious? Shakily, I pat him down. I don’t know what to do what can I do Jack’s going to die here. I rip off my jacket and press it to his head, where the bleeding’s the worst.

“Sam! Teal’c!” Please help, please, please help me! Help Jack.

“Dan…” I can barely hear him, but the words are loud in my ears. Blood is trickling out the corner of his mouth now. “Dan…iel?”

“Daniel?” Goddamnit, I forgot to lock the door. I turn off the tape. That’s mine alone, not for anyone else to see.

It’s Sam, the harbinger of doom and gloom and sisterly love. Two of the three I’ve already got plenty of, and don’t really need the announcement for anyway. Gloom and doom have become my forte. The third? Not really lookin’ for love in all the wrong places, so she might as well pack that one right back where she found it. Wherever that is. I spare her a glance. Oh, shit. She’s got the doe-eyes going. I’ve seen them every second she’s been with me ever since it happened. I wonder if I could pluck all of the eyelashes off those doe-eyes in seven seconds flat? Probably shouldn’t want to. I turn away from her, find the other blue eye staring me down. I can’t escape, it seems.

“What do you want?” I’m uncommunicative. Unwilling. Unreceptive. Unenthusiastic. Unforthcoming. Un-everything. Surely she’s picked up on that.

“I think you know.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” See above catalog on how set I am on that, Sam. Come on, you’re smart. If the past couple of days haven’t already clued you in, I prefer to be alone. “Please go away.”

“Politeness won’t get you out of this, Daniel. We’re all worried about you. It’s been two days. The colonel is going to be fine, I’m sure of it,” Sam says in a calm, artificially soothing tone, as though she’s talking to a suicidal person perched right on the edge. I’m not suicidal. I’m determined. There’s a difference, a huge one. My death is not the issue here. “Janet says he’s showing marked signs of improvement.”

“Great. That’s why he’s still in a coma, right?” I snap out, instantly furious with myself for rising to the bait. Refusing to look at her, I stare into the hypnotizing blue monitor.

“Damnit, Daniel. You’re not the only one who’s concerned for him. We’re all down there, we need you there, too! The colonel…Jack needs you,” she cries, but her words are lies.

I’m not needed down there because I’m needed here. Jack would understand. I’m not going to explain it to her. “Please. Go away. I’m very busy.”

“Too busy to eat? Too busy to sleep? Too busy to open up to your friends? You can’t be too busy, not if you managed to drink all of this beer. On base. You do realize where you are, don’t you, Daniel?” Ooh, she’s being snide now. PissySam.

“I’m in my office, Sam,” I retort in my aggravating singsong voice, giving her this one skirmish. She wants to talk? Fine. I should tell her she’s wrong about me not eating – I just ate thirteen mini Oreos, after all, and the beer, don’t forget the beer – but I won’t embarrass her by offering up the correction. When I speak again, my tone is flat. “I’m not stupid. I’m doing research.”

“Research.”

“Oh, you betcha.” Jack would be proud I managed to get that across my lips. Jack. “You’re interrupting me. Are you going to leave, or shall I call security?”

“Why are you being like this? I just want to help you, Daniel.”

“Help me what? How can you help me, Sam? Tell me that.”

She’s moving closer, I can see her out of the corner of my eye. Too close. She should really back up, get as far away from me as she can. Holding up my hand makes her freeze, but she doesn’t retreat like I need her to. Away. Go away before it’s too late, Sam. Please.

“What is this?” she asks at last, clearly unable to come up with a way to help me. No hope for the hopeless. “What is this?”

She’s given me no choice but to look up, damn her anyway. The tally notebook. She’s got my inventory of achievements. I wasn’t ready for anyone to see those yet! Not done with the study, there has to be a thousand things to add to it. I stare at her silently as she reads it, her lips moving unconsciously, her eyes flitting around the room as she comes to particular items on the list. But she doesn’t know one thing, doesn’t know what it all means. She’s holding my sanity and insanity in her slender little hands. I’m not sure how I know, but I do.

“What is this?” Sam repeats for the third time, her voice thick and strange and all wrong. Fear. She’s scared. “Daniel?”

“I can do all those things, Sam! Don’t you see?” I finally break down, spilling my secret to her. “Every last one of them.”

“I don’t understand.” She takes a step forward, and this time I’ll allow it only because she’s now in on the experiment. I can’t keep from stiffening, though. She stops. “Tell me what you mean, Daniel.”

“I mean what I just said.” Well, I thought she was intelligent but I might have been wrong on that count. “I can do all those things.”

“Daniel.”

“In seven seconds, Sam! It’s amazing, really, what I’ve managed to accomplish. Don’t you think?” I’m beaming now, even though somewhere deep down I know I shouldn’t be proud at all.

“Oh, Daniel,” Sam sighs. She sounds so sad. So, so sad. Dropping the note pad on my littered desk, she lifts both hands to her face and covers it. Can’t look at me. “Oh my God.”

“Do you see now why this is so important?” I ask. She must, unquestionably. “I can’t stop now, can’t until I can’t do anything else. I’ve got a long way to go.”

“No, Daniel. You have to stop. This won’t help anyone, and it’s hurting you.”

Blasphemy. Denigration of the only truth I’ve known for two days. I’m on my feet, arms swinging and sweeping everything off the top of my desk in a fit of anger. Sam jumps back as I rail on the products of my research, kicking beer cans and crushing cookies into sugary black dirt on the floor. Foam spills from one of the cans, turning the dirt to mud and filling my nostrils with its terrible yeasty smell. I gag, shove a hand over my mouth because I know she’s right.

“Daniel,” softly, cautiously, Sam speaks into my ear. At my side and I don’t know how she got there. Her arms are around me like a welcome warm blanket I want to shove off but can’t. She’s relentless and strong, refusing to allow me leave. “Please, let it go.”

“It’s not. It’s not!” I sob, turning my face into her shoulder at last.

“It’s not hurting you?”

“It’s not helping! It’s not. Nothing can. Why can’t anything? It should. Why can I do all these things when I couldn’t help Jack? I don’t understand why,” I wail, unable to stop this as I was unable to stop the tests. Her hands are rubbing up and down my back, circling and offering comfort I know I don’t deserve.

“I wish I could give you an answer, Daniel. You know I can’t,” she simply whispers. Through my anguish, I’m glad she’s not going to continue with the false declarations of my blamelessness. “I do know nothing you do now can change what happened then. You can’t keep torturing yourself like this. Jack wouldn’t want this, and you know it.”

I try to twist out of her hold. She still won’t let go, won’t ever let me go. Sam’s right about Jack, too. God, but that doesn’t help me either. There’s something so big and sinister and scary in me, chilling the outer edges of my mind and spirit. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to rid myself of it. Shuddering, I feel my legs giving way and expect pain to follow as I hit the ground but none comes. Sam guides me down, keeping a tight rein on my shoulders as we form an awkward pretzel of arms and legs. I hear her whispering, though can’t understand the words. We’re moving in a slow rhythm, back and forth.

And back. I see it on the floor, hapless and forlorn where it once was the crowning illustration of my triumphs. Breaking slightly from Sam’s arms, she’s resistant to my departure but I can’t let her stop me this time. She sighs and follows, hand ever present on my shoulder. Lifting it, I flip through the pages until I find my masterpiece. I trace the many words with a fingertip and hear Sam’s breath catch in her throat as she waits. I know what I have to do.

Roughly tearing the sheet from the book, I shred it into tiny fragments and let it flutter like confetti to the floor atop the sick mud already there. For Jack.

For me.

The End

Every Square Inch
by Carrie

“Teal’c, it was just a joke!” Jack called after the rapidly retreating man. He took one step to follow after Teal’c, hesitating when he considered just what an angry Jaffa could do to a person, even a best friend type person. Or former best friend, he amended.

“Jack, you do know that joke isn’t particularly funny to the person it’s played on, right?”

“Daniel’s right, sir. You stooped all the way down to Major Feretti’s level there.”

For crying out loud, it was just a stupid joke! He never would have pegged Teal’c for being overly sensitive, but watching the other man storm away was evidence he had been very, very wrong. Without question, he was going to have to tread lightly around his friend for the rest of the day. Thank God they were due back home in a few short hours—both because of the newly developed Teal’c situation, and because he was bored out of his skull. It really wasn’t his fault he’d had to find a means to entertain himself. This planet, with all its scientific and cultural marvels, was occupied by the most boring people he’d ever met. White bread and mayonnaise were lively in comparison.

“Please, Carter. That was nowhere near Feretti’s level. Do you think I should go after him?”

“Uhm, no, I’d give it a few minutes,” Daniel instantly said, sounding suspiciously as though he was on the verge of smiling. “Teal’c will cool down, Jack. Eventually.”

Cool down; that reminded him. There was one redeeming quality about this place—they had great showers. The most perfect water pressure and temperature regulation he’d ever encountered. And the soap? Soap was too ugly a word to describe how completely fabulous that stuff was. Daniel said the people made it from scratch, infusing it with various invigorating aromatic plants that were believed to boost energy and morale. From what Jack had experienced, they weren’t exaggerating. It would be foolish of him not to take advantage one last time, wouldn’t it? Humming happily, he could already feel the warm spray beating into his tense muscles. Yes, a shower was just what he needed to relax and figure out a way to make it up to Teal’c.

“You’re right, Daniel,” Jack agreed. “You two say your goodbyes and get ready to go. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“What about Teal’c, sir?”

“Oh, if you see him, just tell him we’re heading out. I’ll try to do the same, unless he refuses to acknowledge my presence.”

Carter and Daniel nodded up at him, already busily loading up their packs and chattering away together. Smiling, he sauntered toward the communal bathhouse and hoped it was empty. Jack was by no means modest about his body, but for some reason wanted his last shower here to be unencumbered with having to exercise restraint. Not that he was an exhibitionist—he just occasionally liked to bask in the luxury and let his hair down. So to speak. Utilitarian scrub downs were the customary MO back at the SGC, and he was happy he could forego the locker room scene after this particular mission. Teal’c could be damned intimidating even to him, not something he’d EVER admit…

Poking his head through the door, Jack was pleased to find he’d got his wish. Not a soul was to be found in any of the shower stalls, and there were plenty of towels lining the shelves. The sun’s rays beat down on the glass ceiling, warming the tiled room pleasantly and providing soft, natural light. Humming again, he swiftly stripped out of his clothes and stood buck naked in all his glory. He ran a hand down his chest and stopped it over his navel, which he lazily scratched as he loped to the center stall, lit the most brightly by the sunlight. It was the bar none the best shower in the place, he’d discovered. And he’d tried them all a couple of times, despite Daniel’s vocal concerns that he was developing a dangerous shower fetish.

Turning on the water, Jack immediately stepped into the deluge. God, how great was it he didn’t even have to let it run to warm up? He stood under the spray, closing his eyes to just revel in the feeling for a minute or two. Already his muscles were limbering up, and he stretched his arms wide, sticking his chest out. Heaven. Carter and Daniel may have a million reasons to keep relations open here, but for him if they could obtain the technology used to create this back at the SGC, that would be enough. Reaching for the soap dispenser, he filled his palm with an exorbitant amount of the stuff and wondered if he could find a way to sneak some of it back with him. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath before setting to work.

He started at his feet and legs, slowly massaging the soap in as if to prolong the magic. Next, he quickly washed his hair, got his back out of the way, and finally concentrated on his chest and arms. As he rubbed his fingers through his chest hair, he began first to hum, then sing quietly. “Fascinating new thing, you delight me and I know you’re speaking of me…” Out of soap after an extensive cleansing of his chest, Jack pumped some more onto his palm and lathered up his butt and groin. Last, but certainly not least. He laughed quietly then started singing again, “I’m surprised that you’ve never been told before…”

A soft thud he thought had come from somewhere behind him made him abandon his task and look up. Twisting around to see who his company was, Jack found he was still very much the sole occupant of the bathhouse. Shrugging, he refocused his attention to the all-important areas, adding just a touch more soap as he carefully stroked himself clean.

“I’m surprised that you’ve never been told before that you’re priceless and you’re precious even when you are not new,” he sang to his groin, ending with a snicker at how fitting that particular part of the song was for his…parts. If he did say so himself. He may not be supple with youth like Daniel, or buff and muscled like Teal’c but he was in damn fine shape. Every square inch of him.

Rinsing, Jack regretfully turned off the shower and shook his head, droplets of water raining down around him. He stood in the warm sun for a minute before reality reasserted itself. Ah, like most good things, his fun was over too soon. He walked over to the towels and rapidly dried off, donning his clothes and wishing he had clean set to put on. Tossing the used towel into a hamper, he strode out of the building feeling so much more optimistic than when he’d gone in. Teal’c would forgive him for pulling that stunt in his own time, but Jack figured it couldn’t hurt to invite the big guy out for steaks or something. Getting off base for a couple of hours always did wonders for his friend’s disposition.

Whistling his way through the village, Jack found Carter and Daniel exactly where he left them. They simultaneously looked up as he approached, and he blessed them with a huge smile. “Is this a great day or what? You two ready to blow this pop stand?”

“We’ve actually been ready for a while, Jack,” Daniel said unnecessarily. He could see their packs all stuffed with artifacts and samples galore, only needing to be snapped on. “Just waiting for you.”

“Well, I’m here. Let’s go. Did you see Teal’c? Where is he?”

“What do you mean where is he, sir?”

“Pretty much what I just asked. C’mon, let’s go get him and be on our merry way.” Jack frowned at the dumbfounded expressions gawping back. “What?”

“Jack, Teal’c said you told him to head back early. He left about ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, for crying out…I didn’t even see him! And why would I tell him to leave without us?”

“I wondered, sir, but it was Teal’c. He’s well…I don’t ever doubt what he’s saying is true,” Carter nervously tried to cover her backside.

“It could be he’s still mad at you, Jack.”

“Thank you so much for the update, Daniel,” Jack snapped, irritated with Teal’c and taking it out on the archaeologist. “Look, I’ll have a little chat with him when we get back. Let’s go.”

Grabbing his own pack, Jack set off for the ‘gate at a brisk walk. He couldn’t blame Teal’c for being angry, but this was going too far. It didn’t matter if SG1 was on a safe planet—they arrived as a team, and they left as a team. Always. Daniel slid past him, dialing Earth’s coordinates with haste and shooting him nervous glances every couple of seconds. The Stargate bloomed to life, and he wordlessly ushered his team members through with a wave of his arm. Following their hurried departure, he stepped into the wormhole with the makings of a nice lecture already forming in his mind.

Arriving on the other side, Jack made it halfway down the ramp when he realized there was something odd about the reception they were getting. With the exception of Carter and Daniel, every single person in the ‘gateroom had huge smirks on their faces, their attention focused entirely on him. What, did he put his shirt on inside out or something? Puzzled, he stopped and did a quick assessment of himself. Nope, his fly was zipped, everything tucked in where it should be.

“Welcome back, SG1,” Hammond’s voice called from the control room.

Jack glanced up, surprised to see there seemed to be too many people up there. He flicked his gaze up a level, noting the briefing room was also occupied by a crowd of people. “Sir? Did we miss something?”

“Fascinating you should ask that, Colonel,” Hammond dryly said. “I’m surprised that you’ve never been told before, but things do happen while you’re off world.”

Oh. Oh, no, no, no. His gut twisted into a dense ball. It couldn’t be. Coincidence, pure and simple.

“I think you’d better join me in the briefing room immediately, Colonel.”

“Yes…sir?” Jack hesitantly responded, nervously looking back to Daniel and Carter, who shrugged back at him. “Kids?”

“Right behind you, sir.”

The stares and smiles continued all the way up to the briefing room, and Jack couldn’t help but wonder why all these people were milling around. He had a really, really bad feeling he already knew. Teal’c's absence was noticeable, even a little threatening. Jack stepped off the stairs, thankful the general had cleared out the room.

“Have a seat. You may or may not—I’m leaning toward not, by the way—know this, but several minutes ago, Teal’c returned to the SGC claiming you had requested him to do so. He also implied you had something you wished the entire base to see prior to your, Major Carter, and Doctor Jackson’s return. I didn’t question it, and immediately called everyone to attention as he cued up a video to play on every monitor on base.”

Oh, dear God. Jack felt nauseous. Teal’c wouldn’t…

“You can imagine my surprise at what the tape contained,” General Hammond continued, walking to the ever-present monitor in the briefing room and clicking it on.

And there he was, naked as a jaybird. And singing. The angle of the camera made it clear to him the shooter had been above him, likely in one of the trees clustered around the bathhouse. Thank goodness the glass filtered out some of the finer points to his anatomy, even when it expertly zoomed in.

But the entire base had seen this. The entire BASE! Jack felt himself redden as both Carter and Daniel made little squeaking noises. Clearing his throat, he refused to look at them. “Sir, I…”

“I expect you’ll reprimand Teal’c accordingly for pulling this stunt, Colonel. As you typically handle the video camera, Doctor Jackson, I had suspected you were somehow involved. Judging from your expression, you’re as taken aback as the rest of us.”

“Ye-yes, sir,” Daniel stammered. “Jack, I have no idea how he got a hold of the camera without me knowing.”

“Teal’c, Daniel. This is Teal’c we’re talking about,” Jack whispered, lowering his forehead to rest on the tabletop in mortification. So that noise he’d heard in the shower hadn’t been his imagination after all, but probably a branch scraping or a twig falling on the ceiling.

“Major Carter, Doctor Jackson, please report to the infirmary for your post-mission exams. Colonel, Doctor Fraiser informed me it’s abundantly clear to her you are very healthy and there’s no need for her to examine you.”

“Yes, sir.” God, couldn’t he just go find a hole to crawl in? “Where did Teal’c go?”

“Actually, Colonel, I wouldn’t recommend you seek him out quite yet. He gave me another message to relay to you,” the general warmly said. “In his exact words: ‘Tell O’Neill that perhaps he should consider the ramifications of his actions before again deploying a practical joke upon me.’”

He heard Carter and Daniel rise, though he still couldn’t bring himself to look at them. Wrapping his arms over his head, Jack groaned in very real pain. He was never going to live this down. He had to hand it to Teal’c, though. When the other man wanted revenge, he really knew how to deliver the goods. Every square inch of them.

“Guess you shouldn’t have asked Teal’c to pull your finger, huh, Jack?”

The End

Façade
by Carrie

Laughter is the best medicine, or so they say. I think laughter is simply a great disguise, a mask to wear when you don’t want the world to know what’s really going on inside. I know I don that mask quite frequently. As I glance around at my three companions I realize it’s completely transparent.

Carter always chuckles or smiles obligingly. I appreciate that. I do. But her crystal eyes discount the laughter when it really matters. She sees my hidden concern/anger/fear and chooses to indulge my need for normalcy. She smiles sweetly at my feigned denseness and wise ass commentary, all the while giving me assurance she understands my true feelings.

She understands because she’s felt pain similar to mine. I’ve read her file. I know she lost her mother when she was still so young, and she’s told me her father and brother had been estranged for nearly twenty years. Her own relationship with her father was shaky until the whole Selmac thing. It’s great they finally found each other and I am truly happy for her. Then of course there’s Martouf. Yeah, I gave Marty a hard time but he really was a good guy, for a Tok’ra. God, the look on Carter’s face as she cradled his dead body… yes, Carter knows pain.

Science is her costume. Technobabble spews from her mouth rapidly when she’s upset; I doubt she knows she’s doing it. When Carter’s concerned, I’m concerned and me playing dumb seems to calm her down a bit. I’m happy to ease her discomfort while selfishly assuaging my own.

My gaze wanders over to Teal’c, my warrior friend. He often quirks his eyebrow in either amusement or puzzlement at my antics. I’ve yet to determine which, but it doesn’t really matter. I can see in his eyes that he perceives the reason for the stunt and respects me enough to go along with it silently.

Teal’c also knows pain. He gave up his entire life to be here fighting with us. His wife and son are now within his reach, but it was a long time coming. I can still remember the anguish he demonstrated when we went back to Chulak that first time. Branded a traitor, wife and child forced to live in squalor, Teal’c might just as well had his heart ripped out and stomped on. Before that even, Teal’c himself suffered an involuntary exodus from his home after Cronus killed his father, an event leading him down the Jaffa path. And the pain continues…the loss of Shau’nac and the possible loss of Bra’tac eat away at him. I see it.

He tries so hard not to reveal even the smallest iota of emotion. To the casual observer Teal’c is a flat out success in that regard. It’s the little things that are a dead giveaway. His jaw twitches in rapid intensity, almost imperceptibly. But again, Teal’c's eyes are the true indicator of his state. I’ve seen cold fury and soft concern shining forth from his dark depths, radiating brilliantly to those of us that know him. I do my best to change those emotions to amusement/puzzlement…

And then there’s Daniel. Daniel rarely laughs at my jokes. On occasion I’ll get a tight little smile, but he doesn’t play my game. I don’t expect him to.

Daniel’s seen as much pain in his lifetime as the rest of us. I knew his parents died when he was young, but until that damn Gamekeeper, I had no idea he’d been a witness to it. And as if being a kid living with that memory wasn’t bad enough, he had cope with the fact his grandfather thought it more worthwhile to chase after his dream than care for a lost little eight year old. Friendless and homeless when I met him, I was lucky enough to see a spark of happiness in his life appear on Abydos. Sha’re was his everything. Even though I was experiencing the darkest period of my life, I saw it. I also saw it brutally ripped away from him one short year later.

He tries to hide the ache but he’s not very good at it. Daniel has a tendency to critique the floor, hug his arms around him like a protective blanket, and shift restlessly when he’s uncomfortable. Or upset. Or stressed. Or in pain. My inane and stupid remarks don’t aid him. Daniel just looks at me, telling me silently that he gets it.

Carter and Teal’c know pain, but Daniel knows. He was there when… Daniel sees the stark truth behind my wall. He knows the depth of that truth, and that my attempts to conceal it are weak, but necessary. He knows behind the laughter and sarcasm, the ceaseless darkness and pain are raging at me. He knows I have to protect myself and everyone around me from it. Because he understands so fully, my concern/anger/fear is lessened.

God, I’m a lucky man to have such friends.

The End

Familiar Territory
by Carrie

Daniel

Jack said that Teal’c and this Shan’auc were more than friends. The logical part of me refutes this—she is a priestess and Teal’c is married and a man of proven honor. I sometimes forget that Teal’c is older than he appears, nearly three times my age. I’m sure if there was a relationship between them it was long before his marriage to Drey’auc. I wonder if he is technically still a married man?

I can’t help but wonder about it. What must he be feeling right now, knowing he might have to watch someone he obviously cares for die before his eyes?

Even as I am asking myself the question, images of Sha’re spring unbidden into my head. While I knew the chances of finding and saving her were slim at best, her loss was gut wrenching. If I let it, the sting can still be felt as immensely today as though she died yesterday. She was my everything. I’ve managed to get over her death. No, who am I kidding? I continue to focus on anything and everything to avoid really dealing with it.

And Teal’c is my ever-present reminder. It’s strange, but in a way I am glad for that fact. I don’t want to forget, even if I could. Teal’c's presence in my life insures that I won’t.

I’m also glad it was Teal’c who made the choice to end Sha’re’s life. Despite our polar opposite lives, Teal’c understands…me. In many ways, more than any other, including Jack and Sam. He knew what it meant when he aimed his staff weapon at Sha’re and fired. Knew I’d accept his decision eventually. I wasn’t so out of it that I didn’t catch and interpret his pained and confused expression when I told him he had done the right thing. I knew he’d blame himself and attempt to atone in some fashion.

Still, he knew our friendship would remain, maybe shaky for a while, but intact nonetheless. After many hours of conversations and chess matches, I finally got him to forgive himself and convince him that it truly was all right. In the process and without even realizing it, I actually convinced myself that it was all right. And it is most of the time. Worthwhile hours for both of us.

Even before our ‘bonding’ as it were, I felt a closeness with Teal’c. I’ve said before that I wanted to hate him. Upon his arrival on Earth, it took only days to see that he was a warrior of more than physical battles. I still can’t help but shake my head at his stalwart courage and determination. He gave up everything, everything, to join us and that speaks to me more than anything else about him. I admire and respect him more than I thought I ever would or could.

Selfishly, I don’t want to be a witness to heartache. The memories are still too real for me. But I am also concerned for Teal’c. I don’t want him to have to live through that.

But he might. And while Shan’auc will not technically die by another’s hand, the situation is similar enough for me to seek him out to make sure he is handling the recent events all right.

Well, that was…interesting. Not wholly successful, but at least he knows I will be here for him if needed. I admit I am a little bewildered by his jovial mood. Jovial might be too strong a word, but he definitely is convinced Shan’auc holds the key to save the universe from the Goa’uld. I’ve rarely seen him express any emotion, let alone be excited about something. There was that time he told us the Jaffa joke…which I still don’t get.

We’re heading to Vorash. The Tok’ra are surprisingly willing to help Shan’auc. I was about to give up on them completely, honestly. With the exceptions of Jacob and Martouf, I don’t particularly care for them or their unwillingness to lend assistance unless it directly benefits their cause. Martouf is even borderline sometimes. I hope for Sam’s sake Jacob will never slip 100% into the Tok’ra role.

I really want to believe they are indeed coming through for both Shan’auc and Teal’c, but I just know there must be ulterior motives.

When did I become such a cynic? I’m starting to sound like Jack.

Thank goodness it worked! For a moment there I thought Shan’auc was going to die in Teal’c's arms. Anise says she’ll be very weak for quite a while, but should recover.

I’m sure my revulsion at the entire transference was visible. I will never understand now someone would willingly allow a Goa’uld share their body. Even if it is a Tok’ra. I guess that’s a subject both Jack and I agree on, judging from his reaction.

I’m not surprised when Anise informs us the Tok’ra will not be sharing the knowledge they gain from Tanith with us. I figured as much, but it looks like Jack didn’t anticipate it. Sam looks just as upset as we head up to the ‘Gate, giving Teal’c a moment of privacy.

I can’t believe what I am hearing.

I know it’s been said that love knows no bounds, but I am still reeling with Teal’c's sudden ‘retirement’ from the SGC. I understand he’s excited to fight the battle with Shan’auc and to convert many Goa’uld into Tok’ra, for the good of people of Chulak and Earth. Something tells me, though, that his love for Shan’auc plays an equal if not greater role in his decision. The stunned faced around the table mirror my shock, as do the denials.

I want to join in their protests. And I do. I can’t imagine life without Teal’c, but I can’t begrudge him. Who am I to deny him happiness?

The ‘discussion’ is interrupted by an unscheduled off world activation and we run into the control room to see who’s coming to visit.

I sneak a look at Teal’c hopeful, excited face when the Tok’ra signal comes through and see it change to consternation when Freya and company emerge from the event horizon, carrying a…stretcher? Oh, God!! I can literally feel my heart dropping into my stomach, accompanied by a huge lump in my throat.

Teal’c bolts into the embarkation room. Jack, Sam, and I are not far behind. I watch his back and shoulders stiffen into stone at Freya’s words.

“It is with great sorrow that I return.” She intones with, in my estimation, very little real emotion.

I glance at his face again, gauging his reaction. And again, several emotions flit rapidly across his normally stoic features and I know he knows. The happiness that was evident only minutes before has been completely erased.

“Shan’auc…” he murmurs.

Freya continues, “We found the body just outside her chamber. The symbiote she carried is also dead. If we had found a more mature larvae…”

“She appeared well!” Teal’c interrupts in a desperate voice.

“Shan’auc’s death is simply the unfortunate result of waiting too long.”

Does being a Tok’ra automatically make you a robot?

Teal’c gently folds back the sheet to reveal Shan’auc’s face and he caresses it tenderly. Jack, Sam and I watch helplessly as he mourns the loss of his love for the second and very final time. He’s whispering something to her. What is it? Embarrassed to be an uninvited guest at this personal interlude, and yet fascinated by a side of Teal’c so rarely seen, I listen.

“Tel Mat. Pal tiem shree. Tal ma.”

My heart breaks for him, and my voice almost follows suit as I translate for Jack and Sam. “Our love does not end in death.”

I quickly look at my feet to hide the tears and instantly my mind transports me back to that day on P8X 873. Sha’re and I sharing our last moments together, with Teal’c as the sole witness.

This is exactly what I hoped Teal’c would not have to face. I know all about the cold, dark void that will replace his heart. I know how hard it will be for him to fill it once again with warmth and happiness. I know he might need help and I intend to offer it.

Jack and Teal’c have returned from Vorash. Teal’c looks once again like a living statue, face reflecting absolutely no emotion. I don’t know what happened, whether Teal’c received the vindication he desired. One look at Jack’s disgusted, upset face tells me everything I need to know. Teal’c sacrificed his personal retribution for the ‘greater good’, whatever the hell that is.

Goddamn Goa’uld.

I really want to talk with him now, but I don’t think he’s ready quite yet. Instead, I exchange glances with him and retreat to my lab.

“Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c's deep voice interrupts my work.

I look up to greet him, but his face once again brings a lump into my throat. This is going to be difficult for both of us. Before I can say anything, he continues.

“Daniel Jackson. I wish to speak with you. I…”

His voice is incredibly soft as it trails off. I strain to hear his words. He doesn’t continue, instead looks at me with extremely weary, old, sorrowful eyes.

I don’t say anything at all. I hope he understands what my own eyes are replying.

You’ve come to the right place, Teal’c. Oh, yes, this is familiar territory, and I am ready to help you through your pain.

Teal’c

With excitement I have not felt since my youth, I stride into the embarkation room when the hooded figure reveals its identity. Shan’auc! My love.

Jaffa training returns before I allow my… joy at seeing her again become apparent. I thought I never would see her again. Because of the Goa’uld, our love never could never succeed.

But I never forgot. Despite the rigors of Jaffa training and life, despite learning to repress emotions, despite the comfort I allowed myself in my marriage to Drey’auc, she was always present in my thoughts.

Never before and never since have I been driven to such passion. I have felt much rage. I have felt great sadness and even fear. But passion strong enough to override strict Jaffa habits never.

I clench my jaw as I gaze upon Shan’auc and see my feelings still mirrored in her eyes.

“Friend of yours?” O’Neill interrupts our stares.

“Yes.” I reply simply.

I sense my friends’ doubt at Shan’auc’s revelation. I myself have difficulty accepting that she communicates with her larval Goa’uld and that she has developed a… friendship with it. But I cannot doubt her sincerity. I know O’Neill believes she could be part of an elaborate deception meant to harm the Tau’ri. But he does not know her as I do.

I rush to her as she collapses in agony. She does not have much time before the symbiote destroys her. Because of what she has revealed, even the mere possibility of it, I cannot allow that to happen. The potential gain of such information would prove very beneficial in our fight. I must endeavor to learn her methods of communications when she is well enough to discuss it with me.

The passion in her beautiful eyes moves me greatly. As she speaks to me from the infirmary bed, I begin to believe more strongly in this new…weapon. If it is true, it is indeed the most powerful weapon we could have against the Goa’uld.

Behind the desire to aid our people, I see her love for me shining through. Neither of us require words to express it.

Determined to prove both to myself, but to General Hammond and O’Neill, I know what I must do.

I must seek to link to my own symbiote.

The attempt to communicate with my symbiote is successful.

Pure hatred emanates from the Goa’uld larva as it transmits the vision of my father’s execution to me. Pain wracks my body as a result and I feel O’Neill and Daniel Jackson’s hands grasp me with concern. Major Carter looks to be dialing for assistance.

I am fortunate to have friends such as these.

Even as I am recovering from the shock and pain of first contact, I am overwhelmed with hope. Together, Shan’auc and I will begin to plant the seed of this new weapon to as many Jaffa as we can. This is indeed a great day for my people.

I cannot contain my euphoria as Daniel Jackson approaches me. My human friends are unaccustomed to seeing me express emotions, and this is evidenced by Daniel Jackson’s startled jump when I greet him. This only makes my smile broaden. Shan’auc and I will be instrumental in the Tau’ri fight against the Goa’uld.

Shan’auc.

My mind returns to my previous evening with her. It was as though we had never been apart. She alone has seen and heard my inner thoughts and feelings and I was pleased to once again share them with her.

Of my friends, Daniel Jackson is the one that I am able to share a fraction of these thoughts and feelings. O’Neill and Major Carter feel as deeply as he does, however their military training, much like my Jaffa training prohibits them from discussing such things openly. I have taken what comfort I can, knowing that if the need arises Daniel Jackson will be there.

As he is offering right now. He flinches as I grasp his shoulders. It puzzles me that one with such deep feelings has difficulty expressing those emotions in a physical manner. There is no time. Major Carter approaches to inform us of the Tok’ra’s willingness to aid Shan’auc.

My heart races with anticipation. If the transference is successful, I will spend the remainder of my days with two of my greatest passions.

Shan’auc collapses in great pain. I want to scream for the Tok’ra to take action immediately and cradle her in my arms. I do not enjoy seeing her agony and want it to be over as quickly as possible. I will not accept that we may be too late.

O’Neill, Major Carter and Daniel Jackson watch the proceedings with concern and disgust fighting for supremacy on their faces. They have never witnessed the transference of a larval Goa’uld into a new host, a disturbing act even if done by the Tok’ra.

Relief floods my being when the Tok’ra supply Shan’auc with a new symbiote. Everything will be all right. Shan’auc will recuperate here for some time and I must return to Earth to inform General Hammond and SG-1 of my intentions to take leave of the SGC.

I knew my announcement would bring much commotion, but attempts to dissuade me will fail. I am mildly disappointed that Daniel Jackson apparently does not understand my decision. He protests along with the others…but not quite as vehemently.

All understand I will not be remaining with them. I need to make them understand that I will continue to fight for and with them, if not directly beside them.

Before I can speak again, the alarms announcing an unscheduled off world activation sound. We rush into the control room to see who it is.

My heart leaps as the Tok’ra code is transmitted.

Sorrow and rage battle for possession of my soul. I do not understand how this could happen. She was well when we left Vorash.

I feel as though I am in a trance. Words are coming from my mouth automatically, grief seemingly taking control and making me numb. I vaguely hear someone repeating my words in English. Daniel Jackson. He sounds upset. If he felt a fraction of what I feel now upon the death of Sha’re, I am very fortunate to have retained his friendship.

I cannot handle being here. I must be alone.

Rage consumes me. Shan’auc did not die naturally, as the medical examination proves. The human expression ‘seeing red’ is now understandable to me. Her death will not go unpunished.

We were mistaken that the Goa’uld Shan’auc carried was true in its intentions. It is obviously responsible for her death.

I will savor seeing its pain and panic as I squeeze the life out of it. Vengeance will be mine on this day.

O’Neill intends to come with me back to Vorash. I know that he plans to determine exactly how this has happened. I think perhaps he has other motives as well.

The Tok’ra were aware that Shan’auc’s link to her symbiote might have been an elaborate ploy to gain access to Tok’ra knowledge. They intend to use this information against it, and for some reason this fact fuels my anger. I cannot stop from lunging forward to locate this ‘Tanith’. And kill it.

I hear O’Neill’s voice shouting at me to stop. That he does not approve of the Tok’ra’s method here, but that he does understand it. Killing Tanith will be non productive and make Shan’auc’s death meaningless.

I am attempting to swallow my rage, to acknowledge that the subterfuge played by Tanith can be used against the Goa’uld. Not as powerful a weapon as direct interaction with a symbiote, but a weapon nonetheless.

Jaffa training snaps back, allowing me to rein in my emotions.

But I swear that one day Tanith will die by my hand.

As we return through the Stargate, grief once again consumes me. I do not let it show.

Daniel Jackson is in the embarkation room when we arrive. He does not speak, although it is apparent that he wishes to. He simply looks at me, and I at him.

I must seek the solace of Kel No Reem. I fear if I do not, I will become destructive.

This is not helping. Not since the death of my father by the hand of Chronos have I felt such pain. During that time I was young and foolish, seeking retribution by becoming a Jaffa in the service of Apophis. I was more angry than sad.

Now it is the complete opposite and I find myself unable to satisfactorily control the despair within me. I can think of no outlet…my thoughts turn to Daniel Jackson.

Is this struggle between sadness and anger similar to how he felt after the death of Sha’re? Despite my pain, guilt floods my being. He acknowledged that I was without choice when I took the life of his wife, but it took some time before he would speak with me, or even look at me.

To assuage my own guilt, I persisted and gradually Daniel Jackson opened up to my attempts. The hours we spent together were, I believe, beneficial to him as well as to myself. The experience strengthened our relationship, and I was able to learn a great deal about forgiveness and acceptance.

I look up, unaware that I have been walking. I am at Daniel Jackson’s lab.

“Daniel Jackson.”

He looks up from his desk and it is evident that his thoughts have been of Sha’re once again. I am disturbed that his sorrow is still as strong as ever. He disguises it well. Will I still feel this pain a year from now?

“Daniel Jackson. I wish to speak with you. I…” I repeat.

He says nothing. There is no need. I know that this is familiar territory for him and that despite this fact he will do what he can to aid me.

I enter his lab and shut the door quietly to begin the healing process.

The End

Feeling the Burn
by Carrie

Part 1: First Degree

Daniel felt Jack’s intense stare drilling into his back as they watched the Gadmeer vessel transport the last of the Enkarans aboard and navigate away. He tried valiantly not to squirm under the disapproving scrutiny, and vowed to give Jack ample space for the next several days. He didn’t feel up to what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant discussion.

He knew Jack was pissed off when he transported up to the ship to reason with Lotan, but Daniel was honestly surprised by the depth of that anger. The way Jack stormed toward him when he and Lotan came back into the village reminded Daniel of the hard-assed colonel he had met four long years ago. The hard assed colonel he thought had all but disappeared. Jack actually looked as though he was going to strike him and he backed up instinctively.

Daniel had to admit that more and more often lately Jack was demonstrating just those unfavorable qualities. He could almost look past the whole NID technology stealing fiasco. Jack was under direct orders in that instance, but Daniel couldn’t stop the niggling thought that ‘incident’ was the beginning of the reemergence of a less evolved, socially speaking, Colonel Jack O’Neill.

‘This conversation isn’t over!’

‘Oh, you’re right, Daniel. It’s never over with you! It’s always the same damn thing!’

‘This has nothing to do with me!’

Daniel shuddered. Euronda. Jack screaming at him, too eager to get his hands on all that technology to even consider the validity of Daniel’s objections. Afterwards, Daniel had been embarrassed that he didn’t realize upfront the General and Jack’s motives in the whole affair. Of course the military would jump at the chance to obtain advanced weaponry at a seemingly insignificant price. That mindset didn’t please him, but it was a reality he had to deal with on a daily basis. Being a civilian archaeologist on a military base was definitely trying on the nerves.

But he was still having difficulty sorting out his feelings regarding Jack’s personal attack on him. Yes, Jack admitted to being wrong, rude and short sighted—all characteristics Daniel dealt with often and understood—but he never actually apologized for the defamation. Never apologized for not trusting Daniel’s instincts enough to even factor them in the decision. As conceited as it sounded, Daniel’s instincts proved to be correct on countless occasions. He thought he had earned Jack’s respect. That Jack believed in him.

‘Not much of a foundation, there, huh?’

Those words had been spoken in pretense, hadn’t they? Daniel thought so, until the blow up on Euronda shook loose insecurities that were just starting to fade. Back they came, raging stronger than ever, creating a constant unease with everything and everyone Daniel came in contact with. Not just Jack.

Sam and Teal’c seemed almost wary around him during that Godawful mission, and for the week following it. He couldn’t really be sure of their motivations. For all he knew, they were embarrassed for not supporting him. Right. Sam had outright agreed with the method they were using to obtain Eurondan technology, until his questions registered with her. And even after that, she did nothing to aid him in his argument.

‘The general would also like to know, sir.’

The general. Not ‘I think maybe Daniel has a point and we should listen to him, sir.’ She took the safe, conventional route, following military protocol to the last. It hadn’t surprised Daniel but it had hurt him, he realized. Sam was his logical, empirical support on many occasions, and the apparent loss of that stung.

Even Teal’c really hadn’t helped him out. Teal’c had a knack of making his point so subtly Jack hardly noticed he’d been reprimanded. But Teal’c hadn’t uttered a sound when Jack dismissed him. Daniel noticed and was grateful for the shocked look Teal’c sported when Jack yelled at him to shut up. That helped. A little. He still had been left all alone.

And now this. He’d managed to once again separate himself from the group. Jack didn’t give him the opportunity to find an alternate solution. Teal’c practically accused him of selling out. At least this time Sam had attempted a protest, albeit a vain one.

Daniel sighed. He wasn’t doing himself any good by wallowing in self-pity. He’d been alone most of his life. He could be alone again. It was just alarmingly difficult to go back to that isolation after finding a home.

“Daniel. You coming?”

Jack’s gruff voice startled him out of his reverie. His even harsher hand forcefully grabbed Daniel’s arm and pushed him toward the DHD. The Gadmeer ship was gone. Sam and Teal’c were staring at him.

Cold brown eyes snarled at him angrily and instinct took over. Be meek. Be mild. Don’t antagonize. Just do dial the DHD and get the heck out of Dodge.

He quickly punched in Earth’s address and darted through the wormhole as fast as his feet could carry him.

Away from those stares.

The iris opened and SG1 spewed out of the wormhole, familiar clanking sounded through the Gateroom. General George Hammond observed them from the control room, his stomach a mix of apprehension, nausea and genuine curiosity. Had his flagship team saved the Enkarans?

Hammond headed into the embarkation room to get his answer. Halfway through the door, he was greeted by an unexpected armful of archaeologist. The boy looked frazzled and ready to jump out of his skin.

“Oh, sorry, sir! I’m just uh…” Daniel trailed off, looked at Hammond’s right shoulder blankly, and then turned and abruptly walked away.

Alarm bells sounded in the general’s head. What was that? The normally verbose, polite scientist couldn’t even finish a sentence and didn’t bother excusing himself. His need for more information became even more urgent. Hammond watched Daniel walk away, half tempted to call him back, but decided to let the young man alone. He turned, instead, to the rest of SG1, just stepping off the ramp.

“Colonel?” Hammond put enough stress in that word to convey his desire for an immediate response.

“Yes, sir. Mission accomplished, sir,” Jack intoned, “Permission to go directly to the infirmary for post mission exam.”

Hammond’s steel gray eyes narrowed in puzzled consternation. He turned to Major Carter inquisitively. She avoided his gaze rather effectively, her eyes focused instead on the floor. Teal’c stood behind her, his face revealing no emotion whatsoever. Well, perhaps there was something…

Both of them looked distinctly uncomfortable and he caught Teal’c's mask slip a little as he glanced at Colonel O’Neill. Hammond thought he saw concern and anger, but who could tell with the Jaffa? Before he could ponder it’s meaning, the mask slipped back into place. Damn.

“Very well, Colonel. I am highly interested to know how this mission turned out. You will report to the briefing room after your exams. 1400 hours. Please inform Dr. Jackson.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam replied.

Jack stormed out of the Gateroom briskly, without acknowledging his commanding officer. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. Hammond had a pretty good idea the conflict stemmed between the two men who had already made their exits.

“Major Carter? Is there anything that I should be aware of?” Hammond inquired gently.

“No, sir,” she responded too quickly.

“General Hammond, this mission proved to be emotionally taxing,” Teal’c offered.

Letting go the sigh that had been building for some time, Hammond nodded. Major Carter continued her examination of the floor, her down turned face not concealing her expression of discomfort and…was that disgust?? Perhaps he hadn’t made the correct assumption. A quick glance to Teal’c confirmed it. The Jaffa’s face had lost its mask again, revealing a small portion of agitation.

What was going on here? It was like the close-knit group had suddenly lost their connection and it’s members were struggling to function individually. From the looks of it, they weren’t exactly successful.

Whatever happened on that planet had affected the entire team.

“I expect a full report at 1400 hours. Dismissed.”

Hammond watched them exit solemnly. Why couldn’t SG1 ever be low maintenance?

‘I’m talking to Lotan.’

Jack could still hear Daniel’s sing-song voice, a voice you’d use when speaking to a small child. When had Daniel become such a patronizing pain in the ass? It seemed that Daniel fought him tooth and nail with everything lately.

He said jump, Daniel said ‘Isn’t there a better way?’ and kept his feet firmly on the ground.

Damnit. He was the team leader and his decision should be final. Not open for debate.

Jack stalked blindly through the corridors toward the infirmary, his ire increasing with every footfall. His mind flashed back over the past several missions, stopping when Euronda came to the surface. He and Daniel really laid into each other during that one. Daniel was ultimately correct to question the Eurondans, but Jack still couldn’t swallow the method the archaeologist took to make his point.

In all of Jack’s years in the military, it was never acceptable procedure to question your commanding officer in public. In front of people you were negotiating with, for crying out loud. But the civilian scientist had ignored, didn’t acknowledge or respect that protocol, making Jack appear foolish in front of Alar. When he disagreed with the general, at least he did it behind closed doors.

He could still see the bemused expression on Alar’s face as he watched them argue. Damnit, Jack was getting angry just thinking about it. Daniel always pushed and pushed, regardless of how inappropriate it might be.

Jack halted suddenly and ran a hand through his hair, head aching from the day’s events. Once again, Daniel managed to make a mess of Jack’s decision. Daniel knew Jack’s belief that the naquadah reactor was the only solution; that he’d had no choice but to destroy the approaching ship. He wouldn’t have ordered Carter to do it if he thought otherwise.

Daniel still openly defied him. Beamed right up into the line of fire, knowing Jack would blow the fucking ship up. How could Daniel do that?

Fuming silently, Jack leaned against the wall for support. He closed his eyes tightly and scrubbed his hands across his face. Daniel’s face loomed before him, that proud little smile leering grotesquely at him, as if to say ‘See Jack, you moron. I told you so.’

Jack decided he’d better hold of going to the infirmary until he was sure Daniel was through and long gone. No telling what he’d do in his current state if he got his hands anywhere close to the archaeologist.

He had to focus on something else, his stomach was twisted into knots. Hockey, beer, pottery… Nope, wasn’t working.

“Sir? What are you doing?” Sam’s voice floated to him.

Looking up, Jack caught her upset face before it was wiped expressionless. What was that all about? Oh, yes. His second in command also disagreed with him this time. Correction, his second in command actually voiced her opinion this time. Bitterness swelled.

“Nothing, Carter. You go on ahead, I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said, relief coloring her words.

God, what was happening? He always expected Daniel to argue with him. It bothered him, yes, but the frustrating, aggravating response from Daniel was second nature. Carter and Teal’c generally remained silent, and Jack realized how much he counted on that. Not this time, though. This time he was all alone. Why couldn’t they see he had no choice? OK, he’d had a choice: save real live people he had personally assured safety, or kill a bunch of freeze-dried aliens. Seemed pretty clear.

Carter’s eyes practically branded him with her disapproval when she handed him the detonator. She’d shoved the thing at him like they were playing a game of Hot Potato.

‘Sir, if you’re going to do it, it has to be now!’

She sounded like she was daring him to push that button and kill her friend. Jack took her unspoken challenge and pushed it, knowing he’d probably be losing more than one team member as a result. ‘Last chance to change your mind before you murder an innocent bystander along with that ship, sir.’

God.

And Teal’c's reaction to the situation had actually shocked him.

‘I do not disagree with his intentions.’

Geez, Teal’c. Why not just come out and say it? C’mon. Finish the thought with, ‘but I do disagree with yours, O’Neill’. Teal’c hadn’t, of course, and remained by his side. Disapproving, but not defying. That was Daniel’s specialty.

Nope. Carter and Teal’c had stood by him, but Jack knew their physical presence meant nothing. They didn’t support him at all. The decision rested solely on his shoulders. Alone. Nothing new there.

Jack squared his shoulders, hardened his heart and went in for his exam.

“Major Carter, is there anything I should be aware of?” Hammond inquired gently.

“No, sir,” Sam replied without hesitation.

“General Hammond, this mission proved to be emotionally taxing,” Teal’c offered.

Folks, we have a winner for the biggest understatement of the year!! Sam winced. And also a winner for the biggest, out and out whopper. She had just told the general a huge, fat, ugly lie. There was so much General Hammond should know; so much she couldn’t tell him.

“I expect a full report at 1400 hours. Dismissed.”

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Sam practically flew out of the Gateroom in an effort to get away from the questions. Her emotions were borderline flabbergasted, borderline angry and borderline resentful. She was having an incredibly difficult time understanding what just happened. She hated the loss of control she was feeling under the onslaught of conflicting feelings.

On one hand, Sam understood the colonel’s decision. Understood he felt responsible to the Enkarans, a characteristic she considered commendable. The colonel had been under quite a lot of stress from a couple of directions. The general’s vague directive to fix the situation and the Enkaran’s refusal to leave probably made it seem choiceless.

Sam rounded the corner and almost ran into the man currently occupying her thoughts. The colonel was leaning against the wall with a pained grimace on his face.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, Carter. You go on ahead, I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir.”

She continued on down the hall, glad he didn’t want to talk. While Sam understood why the colonel chose to destroy the Gadmeer ship, she did not agree with his decision, nor did she appreciate him using her like he did. And he did use her. Sam stopped short. When had she become his ‘yes girl’?

Unconsciously her mind wandered through the previous several months, the missions they had been through. She brushed her hand across her mouth, as if to remove the bad taste collected there by a particularly strong memory. Euronda.

‘Carter, what is our mission?’

God. He’d used her then against Daniel. Despite the fact that Sam agreed with him at that point, it still rankled her. No, that wasn’t the entire truth. It was only after those events, after the colonel had knowingly shut the iris on Alar, that she considered her role on that mission. At the time, she was as irritated with Daniel as the colonel was. She loved Daniel like a brother, but lately he seemed more argumentative. Whinier. Even, she cringed, ruder.

Sam didn’t always agree with Daniel’s methods. Actually his methods could use some work. He really did push the limits of everyone’s patience. Especially the colonel’s. At times it seemed Daniel thrived on playing the devil’s advocate. But still…

Oh, Daniel. They’d almost just killed Daniel. She tried to push him from her thoughts, unable to reconcile the desire to apologize to him with her disapproval of his actions.

Sam entered the infirmary and collided solidly with 180 pounds of agitated archaeologist. Before she knew it, she was on her butt.

“Oh, Sam! I’m sorry,” Daniel said frantically, grabbing her arms and yanking her upright with a jerk.

“It’s OK, Daniel,” she reassured, unable to look him in the eye.

Silence befell them for countless seconds. Uncomfortable, Sam cleared her throat. What do you say to the guy you almost killed, but were inexplicably irritated with? Just kidding? Whoops, didn’t mean to, but really you shouldn’t have been there?

She opened her mouth and finally found the courage to look up, but Daniel had disappeared. Brows knit, she turned back into the infirmary. How did he manage that?

There were days when she wanted nothing to do with either him or the colonel. Teal’c could stay. She had no qualms with him.

Teal’c observed his two companions closely. When he entered the infirmary to find Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter sitting on adjoining beds, but not looking at or speaking to each other in their usual playful manner, Teal’c knew the tension he felt building over the past several months would soon come to a head.

Silence spoke volumes, as did the conspicuous absence of Daniel Jackson.

Teal’c had the unique advantage of Jaffa training. His past service to the Goa’uld was not something he was particularly proud of, but it had provided him with the ability to filter out emotions and view almost any situation from an objective point of view. He was accustomed to show no emotion, but viewing his friends’ faces now reminded him that his ability to disguise reaction was also a disadvantage.

Being able to filter emotions did not mean that he was unable to feel them, and on many occasions, his human friends have appeared nonplussed by his apparent lack of feeling. What they did not know, what they could not see, was that Teal’c felt every bit as strongly in some situations as they. Sometimes even more. His friends’ new masks only served as an indicator that their emotions wer so strong they thought they had to stifle them.

Teal’c patiently sat through Dr. Fraiser’s examination, the usual annoyance which typically surfaced during these mundane procedures somewhat dampened by his mounting concern for O’Neill, Major Carter and Daniel Jackson. And for himself, he had to concede.

The tension building among his teammates also affected Teal’c's own emotional state. He found himself questioning his place on the team, and whether or not they would notice his absence if he left. The thoughts, while irrational, were persistent.

When he had decided to leave Earth and join Shau’nac, Teal’c sensed their disapproval before his teammates were able to give voice to it. He found their concern both comforting and irritating. He was glad they apparently valued him as a friend, and yet Teal’c could not quell the suspicion that they regretted the loss of Teal’c the resource tool as much as Teal’c the friend.

As a Jaffa, his life was devoted to service. He had no choice. Teal’c renounced that life to join O’Neill and the others, gaining freedom. But had he gained freedom or merely switched masters? Teal’c's thoughts perturbed him. He should not be thinking in such a manner.

“OK, Teal’c, you’re all done,” Janet Fraiser’s voice alerted him.

How long had he been lost in thought? Teal’c sought out a clock. 1345.

“Thank you, Dr. Fraiser,” Teal’c solemnly replied, scanning the infirmary for his teammates.

“They left ten minutes ago, Teal’c.”

“Thank you.”

With a quick quirk of an eyebrow, Teal’c gathered his jacket and made his way to the locker room. He very much wanted to speak to the rest of SG1 before the debriefing. The uneasiness he was feeling was beginning to affect his symbiote. It swam around his pouch frenetically.

Though Teal’c attempted avoid irrational and unimportant thoughts, he couldn’t stop thinking about his relationship with each member of SG1.

O’Neill considered him a military asset, he was sure. Occasional moments of fondness exhibited by O’Neill led Teal’c to believe his commander considered him a friend, but ultimately was Teal’c merely the brute force for the team? Bodyguard and protector of his human friends? Teal’c was not opposed to this function and even embraced it. Sometimes, though, it was too reminiscent of his days as First Prime of Apophis.

Major Carter held a certain amount of respect for him and counted on him to assist her with O’Neill by translating her words so the colonel could better understand her. Beyond that, Teal’c was unsure of how she considered him. More often than not, it appeared she did not notice his presence at all.

Daniel Jackson undoubtedly used Teal’c as a reference book on Goa’uld language and culture. Again, he was willing to perform this duty if it aided the fight against the Goa’uld. The young man tried Teal’c's patience on many occasions, however. He seemed to demonstrate a strong predilection to ‘look before he leapt’, making the rest of SG1′s jobs all the more difficult.

Teal’c halted mid stride. In all three instances, friendship was not the primary factor. Were they friends? Or did they simply use Teal’c for their own gain? ‘Junior’ flopped sickeningly.

No. He should not let negativity lead him to think this way. They were his friends, and he had no reason to question that. Teal’c raised his chin a notch and continued on to the locker room, no longer sure he wanted to speak with his friends just yet.

What he really wanted was to place himself in a deep state of Kel No Reem. To not think for a while.

Part 2: Hot Flashes

Daniel stared at the translation before him disinterestedly. Concentration was just not going to happen today, he decided. Letting out a huge sigh, Daniel stretched his legs out and massaged his left shoulder. The huge knot there was increasingly difficult to relax, and Daniel was surprised Dr. Fraiser had not mentioned it. Judging from how it felt, it should be visible to the naked eye. The pain radiated up his neck and into the base of his skull.

Giving up on his self-ministration, Daniel tried once again to shake off the pervading thoughts plaguing him since leaving P5S-381. He just needed to wrap this up, head to the dreaded mission briefing, and then he could go home. The coffee pot beckoned him once more. He stood up and turned slightly in its direction when realization struck. The briefing. Why hadn’t they already held it? Surely General Hammond would want to know all about it…

A quick look at his watch prompted him to check in with the General. He wracked his brain in an attempt to remember if anyone told him when the briefing was scheduled. Daniel didn’t think so, but since he’d been doing a fantastic impression of a zombie, who could really say?

Grabbing his notebook, he headed out of his office at a rapid scurry. If he had been told, and if he was late, Jack was going to kill him. Daniel chuckled grimly to himself. Jack was going to kill him regardless.

“Damnit! Where the hell is he?” Jack’s angry voice blasted down the hallway.

Daniel hesitated. OK, so he was late. He wished again he could remember if someone told him about it. He needed that excuse. Desperately. Hating that he felt like a five year old awaiting punishment for misbehavior, Daniel entered the briefing room.

Its occupants all glared at him. General Hammond’s face reflected the customary irritation/resign. Sam looked embarrassed for him. Teal’c's eyebrow was raised so high it looked like it was detached. And Jack just looked at him.

Heat accompanied the flush creeping onto his face and he sank into the chair next to Sam. The one directly across from Jack.

“I’m sorry I’m late, General, but—”

“Can it Daniel! We know why you’re late!” Jack growled.

Mouth agape, Daniel struggled for a response to the implication. What was Jack talking about?

“Whu-what?” Daniel spluttered, obviously bewildered.

Hammond stared at Colonel O’Neill, shocked at his reaction. Granted, he was slightly annoyed by Dr. Jackson’s tardiness, but O’Neill’s countenance displayed his displeasure as openly as the tone of his voice. The man was poised on the edge of his seat ready to fly across the tabletop to throttle Dr. Jackson, with no apparent provocation. Before he could nip the looming argument in the bud, the hot-tempered Colonel Jack O’Neill continued his tirade.

“Don’t whu-what me!! Acting all sweet and innocent won’t work this time, Daniel! I’ve come to expect to deal with your crap on every mission, but you could at least have the common courtesy to show up for the debriefing on time!”

Hammond swung his bald head toward Daniel and noted the archaeologist was clenching his jaw tightly and his face was slightly red. He had to take control of this situation before it got even more out of hand.

“Deal with my crap? I knew it. I knew you never listened to a word I say. Crap. My crap just happened to stop you from killing an entire race of people, Jack, in case you don’t remember. If you’d have given me the chance to try talking to Lotan, I wouldn’t have had to go behind your back, Jack, and we would still have that naquadah reactor. So much for retaining advanced technology, huh?” Daniel’s words came out in a furious string.

“Gentlemen!” Hammond attempted. He was getting more than a little disturbed at Daniel’s words regarding the Enkaran situation. Both Jack and Daniel sprang out of their chairs, Daniel gesticulating wildly with every word while Jack stood leaning across the table, knuckles ground into the hard surface. Teal’c looked alarmed, but uncertain if action was required. Sam’s blue eyes were gigantic in her pale face.

Hammond’s mediation attempt was ignored, the men continuing as though they were alone.

“Nice, Daniel. You KNOW I didn’t have time—”

“Shut up, Jack. I wasn’t finished. It’s never over with me remember? Contrary to your and probably everyone else’s belief, I was not told when the debriefing was scheduled. Kind of hard to show up intentionally late when you were never invited in the first place.”

Hammond’s mouth flew open in astonishment and to try again to gain control. Dr. Jackson and Colonel O’Neill were headed for a huge train wreck unless he did something. It looked as though Daniel had had enough. The young man turned and made his way to the door with slow deliberation, his hand massaging his left shoulder.

“Dr. Jackson, you will not leave. We are not finished here,” he managed authoritatively before Jack interrupted yet again. Daniel paused halfway to the door.

“You heard the man, Daniel. Get your ass back over here.”

“Colonel,” Sam hesitantly spoke up.

“What?! You wanna join in the fun now? Tell Daniel he’s a pain in the ass and to get back here because I’m not done with him yet!” Jack hurled at her.

The young woman’s eyes went from shock-wide to anger-narrow in a split second. Hammond inwardly sighed, giving up all hope on the debriefing. Whatever this was, it needed to run its course.

“I think you are perfectly capable of communicating that yourself, sir. Besides, I happen to agree with Daniel,” Sam uttered in a carefully neutral voice.

Jack didn’t notice her tone. He didn’t notice the flashing of her eyes. His concentration remained mainly on Daniel, keeping the younger man under visual guard. The archaeologist was looking at Carter, completely flabbergasted. For some reason, it pissed Jack off.

“What are you surprised about, Jackson? I have you to thank for a 2IC that balks at my decisions,” Jack hissed at Daniel.

Damnit. It was happening all over again. Ill will seethed through Jack, inhabiting his entire being. Why couldn’t they see how much it cost him to make that decision? Hell, to make most of the decisions that rested on his shoulders alone. Repressed anger reared it’s ugly head.

“What the hell are you talking about, Jack? You’re blaming me for Sam’s actions now? That’s rich. Last I checked, she’d follow your orders even if they were to commit genocide,” Daniel spat.

“Daniel!” Sam gasped.

“Daniel Jackson, I do not believe you mean to say these things,” Teal’c finally entered the fray.

Jack turned to Teal’c, mildly surprised at the support. He gave the Jaffa an appreciative smile. Maybe he could count on Teal’c to back him up on this after all.

“What do you know about what I mean to say, Teal’c? Sam would follow Jack’s orders, just as you would. Usually without question. You seem to reserve your doubts for me.”

Oh, the kid had really gone too far this time!

“Daniel, you don’t know what the hell you are talking about, so just shut up now before you embarrass yourself,” Jack roared, unable to explain even to himself his rage.

Teal’c's voice boomed over his with atypical force and vindication, “You are incorrect, Daniel Jackson. The only thing I doubt about you is your lack of understanding that your actions affect us all.”

“Yeah, Daniel. Did you even think about how your decision to speak with Lotan would affect the rest of us?” Sam chimed in.

Yes! Jack wanted to crow victory. He beamed at Carter and Teal’c, but quickly sobered up at Teal’c's next imprecation.

“Do not think this is a contest, O’Neill. Your actions also affect all of us, and as I told you on P5S-381, I did not disagree with Daniel Jackson’s intentions.”

Jack’s gut twisted.

“Well, that’s nice Teal’c. But why didn’t you bother telling me that?” Daniel asked ungratefully.

Sam’s head spun from trying to follow the volley of insults flying around the room. One minute the colonel was trying to use her again and the next Daniel was attacking her for following military protocol. She couldn’t win and her anger grew exponentially, burning a huge hole in her stomach. She had to let it out before it consumed all of her oxygen.

“Daniel, will you give it a rest? I am so sick of you always blundering along like you’re the only on with valid input. And you, colonel. How dare you abuse your authority over me? What you almost made me do—no, what you did make me do—was wrong. We all knew it. You knew it.” She raged. It felt wonderful.

“Of course I knew it! But what else was I supposed to do? Huh? There were no options at the time!” Jack exploded, his voice unsteady.

Sam felt her jaw drop. The colonel sounded. . .scared? Desperate, even. She couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Well, you didn’t give us the option to give you options, Jack! Do you really have so little respect for the rest of your team, for me, that you couldn’t even give us 45 minutes to come up with an alternate solution?”

Sam didn’t hear beyond the ‘for me’ in Daniel’s remark. She knew what he was really saying—that she and Teal’c might not have been able to come up with a viable solution in such a short amount of time, but certainly the colonel should have expected Daniel, a.k.a. Wonderboy, to save the day. She snorted.

“What’s that for, Carter?” Jack demanded.

“Nothing, sir. Just thinking about how egotistical you guys are, Teal’c excepted,” Sam retorted. Damn, but it felt good to just let it all out.

“Thank you, Major Carter.” Teal’c said warmly.

“Do you know what it’s like working with you two? I imagine you don’t. I won’t go into detail, but I will tell you that you both are up for ‘The Biggest Pain in the Ass’ award!” Sam spouted.

“Carter!” Jack cried, sounding both angry and shocked.

“Sam, do you really think that?” Daniel’s hurt voice broke in.

Sam stared at both men. Daniel’s wide-eyed gaze almost got to her, but the colonel’s hard eyes made her pause. Did she really think that? Yes, she did. But she had to admit that personality quirks aside, she enjoyed the camaraderie the usually lighthearted bickering brought to the whole team. Why was she getting so worked up over this stuff, seemingly out of the blue?

Teal’c sat silent through most of the argument, attempting to sublimate the feelings of anger building in him. The selfishness of each argument was glaringly obvious and the fact that each of them did not take into account how much their statements would wound each other proved to him that to follow their irrational behavior was unacceptable. He was unable to contain his feelings.

As the argument went on, Teal’c focused his attention on General Hammond. The general sat at the head of the table, a silent observer to the disturbing situation. Perhaps this is what SG1 needed: to get all bad feelings out into the open.

“Yeah, Daniel, I guess I do. Probably the same way that you think I am a mindless drone who will follow orders unquestioningly,” Sam’s response was rendered tiredly, as though she had come to the realization that all this arguing got them nowhere.

“I see. General, with your permission, I’d like to leave now. I’m suddenly not feeling well,” Daniel stated.

He turned and headed for the door once more.

“Daniel! I don’t think we are really done here, do you?” Jack called after him, the tone of his voice seemed much calmer. He grabbed for the archaeologist, catching his left shoulder and twisting him back into the room. Daniel winced at the corresponding pain the movement caused and grabbed his shoulder protectively.

“Ah, watch it!” he cried, instinctively pushing Jack away hard. Jack took a few stumbling steps backwards and landed roughly on a chair.

“Damnit, Daniel!” Jack lunged for the younger man, but was blocked by Sam.

“Colonel! Let it go!”

Jack shoved her aside and as she went down, her lip smacked on the conference table.

Teal’c saw his opportunity and also placed himself in between the two men.

“I do not believe you mean to do this. Please calm yourselves.”

Jack kept advancing, not dissuaded by Sam or Teal’c. Teal’c raised his right hand and placed it on the colonel’s chest. He looked back at Daniel, still frantically rubbing his shoulder and down at Sam struggling to her feet and wiping a minute trace of blood from her already swollen lip.

“O’Neill, I believe it would be wise if Daniel Jackson was taken to the infirmary. He seems to be in pain,” Teal’c advised, “And Major Carter has split her lip. Your behavior seems out of character.”

“In pain? Carter?” Jack dumbly mimed.

“OK, people, I think we’re finished here,” General Hammond’s gentle voice filled the room.

All movement stopped and three sets of eyes turned his direction as if suddenly becoming aware of his presence. Teal’c simply nodded.

“I have no idea what prompted this chaos, but I really hope that it will go no further than this room. I want you all to report to the infirmary. Dr. Jackson, have that shoulder looked at. Major Carter, see to that lip. Colonel O’Neill, Teal’c, just…keep them company. Then I want you all back here and I expect a full explanation. Dismissed.” Hammond directed.

SG1 made a solemn march toward the infirmary, hands in pockets and eyes on floor.

Part 3: Grafting

“It’s nothing, really, Dr. Fraiser. Just a little muscle spasm,” Daniel tried to weasel his way out of another examination.

“I can see that. I noticed you had quite a knot there before. How did you manage to aggravate it?” Janet asked innocently.

“Oh, you know…” Daniel hesitated.

Jack cringed.

“O’Neill was attempting to prevent Daniel Jackson from relocating, Dr. Fraiser,” Teal’c supplied with a slight frown toward Jack.

“I see. I’m going to prescribe some muscle relaxants for the next couple of days. They will make you very drowsy and disoriented, so I don’t want you driving.”

Janet handed Daniel two of said muscle relaxants and a glass of water. She watched to make sure he actually swallowed them. Why he always resisted treatment was beyond her. She moved her attention to the female member of SG1 and that spectacular split lip.

“Well, it doesn’t look like there’s much I can do for this. Let me get an ice pack to help keep the swelling in check. I’m going to assume you didn’t trip and fall against something?” Janet asked, looking pointedly at Jack.

The colonel winced, telling Janet all she needed to know. Of course, the heads up from General Hammond didn’t hurt. ‘Keep them there until they are speaking to each other in civil tones’ were his exact words. She’d had no idea what he was talking about until she saw the rag-tag team skulk into the infirmary. Even Teal’c looked a bit hunched over, a physical state she wasn’t aware he could manage.

Right now, the entire lot of them was successfully avoiding eye contact with anyone, let alone each other. She was Switzerland. All she had to get them to do was talk. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

She opened her mouth to speak, but to her great relief Daniel beat her to it.

Daniel cursed himself for not bothering to eat anything all day. It seemed the instant those stupid horse pills hit his stomach his head was floating higher than a child’s lost helium balloon. Up, up and away! There it goes! It’ll probably burst over some innocent body of water and choke a few fish. Maybe a turtle. Or a teammate.

Even without the benefit of drugs, Daniel was embarrassed and remorseful about his conduct in the briefing room. Jack attacked first, that was true, but he was the adult in the situation and should have just swallowed his pride. And had he really lashed out at Sam and Teal’c? They probably never wanted to speak to him again, but he should really try.

“Sam?” he said with a little laugh. Where did that come from? He giggled again.

“What ndo you wat, Dawiel?” Sam said through a mouthful of ice pack. He forgot about that.

“How’s the lip?”

“It’th jutht gweat, Dawiel. How ndo you thiwnk it ith?”

“Mmm’kay. I’ll jussstalk then? I jusssttt wan tyou to know…what I said before? You knoww when we wwerre in General Hammond’sss playroom…”

“Daniel, what the hell are you talking about?” Jack cut in, “You’re slurring big time. Can hardly understand a word.”

Daniel sighed in frustration. This was going to take all his rapidly departing concentration. He felt like he’d had one too many.

“Shutttup, J’ck. Nott your turrn yet. Talkin’ to Sammm now.”

“I’m lithening, Dawiel.”

Sam.

“You know that I don’ttthink you’rre a m-min, I knowww you usse your headd, Samm. It’ss jusst that it’ss frusstating to be the only one thattt cann speak freely, you knowww?”

He hoped that was enough. This was so hard and he had two to go.

“It’th OK, Dawiel.”

Just like that? Not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Teall’c?”

“Daniel Jackson. You do not need to apologize. I can understand your interpretation of the situation.”

“Ohh, Teall’c, but I do have to apolologize. I sshouldn’t have doubtted youu inn anny way. Yourrre allwayss objective. You do what’s right.”

“Your apology is accepted, Daniel Jackson.”

Whew. Two down, one really BIG one to go. Daniel was quite pleased at how smoothly this was going. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“J’ck? J’ck?”

“It’s finally my turn?” Jack said gruffly.

“Yessindeedy. I don’ttt really knnoww whyy I wass mad at youu, Jack. I knnnow you were jusst doing wwhat you thought was besst. I’m jusst dissapppointted that you don’tt trusst me to hellp you.”

“I know, Daniel, I know.”

God, Jack felt like a complete jerk. He sent two of his team members, his subordinates, into the infirmary. And for what? A little pride problem? The ‘conversation’ in the briefing room was forever going to be ingrained in his memory as one of the lowest points in his career. And he’d had some really low points.

He had some big time ass kissing to do, and following Daniel’s five star performance wasn’t going to be easy. He wasn’t kidding when he said Daniel could really grovel if he had to. Daniel’s eyes had a tendency toward puppy-doggedness without the aid of drugs. They should be considered deadly weapons when under the influence. Who wouldn’t forgive Daniel when he looked at you like that?

Jack paused, not knowing where to begin and extremely uncomfortable all of this was going down in the great wide open.

“Daniel, I…I’m sorry that I almost blew you up. I’m sorry that I didn’t give you the chance to try it your way. I know you were doing what you do best. I’m sorry that you always seem to bear the brunt of my frustration,” Jack hurried.

Whoa! More than he’d intended to say, but it was too late now. Jack looked up just enough to catch a goggle eyed look from Dr. Fraiser. Damn, he forgot she was there!

“Sssallright, Jack. It wasss my choice. I don’t do itt on purrrpose, you hafta believe that.”

“I know, Daniel.”

Oh, how he wished this were over. Which of the two remaining evils was the most benign? Teal’c. Definitely.

“OK, then. Teal’c?”

“O’Neill.”

“No speech on how an apology is not necessary?” Jack half-joked, receiving silence. “I guess not. Teal’c, I hope you don’t really think I consider you merely the muscle on the team. I look for your support, that’s true, but it’s more than that…”

“Thank you, O’Neill,” Teal’c interrupted abnormally, “I admit it was a concern of mine.”

This really wasn’t so bad. Even felt kind of good. On to the fiery eyed major.

Sam felt like she was a guest star on The Brady Bunch. Big dilemmas solved in a mere twenty-three minutes. More bizarre than that was the fact she found the whole scenario strangely fitting. She knew it was her turn in the lineup. The colonel turned to her with the grimmest face she had ever seen.

“Carter?” he began softly, “Do I really abuse my authority over you?”

Sam no longer saw the humor in the situation.

“Yes, sir, I think sometimes you do. I’m the only one on the team who is military and has to follow the same protocol as you,” Sam replied honestly. Might as well lay it all out right now, huh?

“I do do that. I don’t do it on purpose,” he begged, unconsciously mirroring Daniel’s words.

“I know, sir. It’s OK, really. But I’d appreciate a little more consideration in the future.”

Hey, if you’re gonna go, go big.

“Yeah, I can work on that,” Jack agreed with a soft smile, “And I’m really sorry about shoving you. Your lip looks better, by the way.”

“Forget about it,” she dismissed, “I probably shouldn’t have got in your way.”

Jack didn’t look convinced.

Sam took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Sir, I have to apologize to you, too. I never should have called you…you know.”

“A pain in the ass?” Jack filled in the blank.

“Yeah,” Sam grimaced.

A loud chuckle grabbed everyone’s attention. More than Daniel’s shoulder appeared relaxed.

“Ssammm, Jack iss a painin the ass!” Daniel chortled.

“Who asked you, Daniel? Besides, I seem to remember you were included in that description as well,” Jack gently reminded.

“Oh, yeah! Ssamm, you wanna splain that?”

Crud. Daniel was puppy-dogging her.

“Well, you are a pain in the ass sometimes, Daniel,” she started.

“It’s true. But it’s part of my charm, in’it?” Daniel laughed dopily.

“Oh, yeah. Really charming, Daniel. I swear sometimes you’ll take up an argument just to play devil’s advocate…”

“Now that’s simply not true…”

“Will you stop interrupting? Geez, talk about case in point! I’m sorry we almost blew you up, Daniel. I’m sorry I can’t always give you the flat out support you need. But I want you to know that I do appreciate that you can raise issues when they need to be raised,” Sam finished.

“Thank you, Sammm,” Daniel slurred, “Did I mention I wassorry? Because I am, you know.”

“I think you got it covered, Daniel,” Jack teased.

Sam grinned. Yep, just call her Marcia.

A small smile graced Teal’c's full lips. He was amazed at how quickly the slow burn could be healed. The Tau’ri had an immense potential for hate, but they also possessed an equal potential for forgiveness. His own doubts about his companions had been all but eliminated during the healing session. But he still had his own words to share.

“Indeed, Daniel Jackson. Now it is I who must ask for your forgiveness. I allowed myself to succumb to feelings I know are irrational. I value you as a friend. I hope that you would still consider me yours,” Teal’c stated.

“Teall’c, I don’t even ‘memmber what you said, but whatever it was, ssokay,” Daniel amiably replied.

Teal’c furrowed his brows. Perhaps it was not wise to conduct this conversation while Daniel was on medication. He made a mental note to reaffirm this portion later.

“Looks like Daniel is down for the count,” Jack laughed at Daniel, as the younger man’s eyelids closed and stayed that way.

“O’Neill, my apology must also extend to you. I do not believe it is your intention to utilize my strength to your advantage in every situation.”

“You’re right, Teal’c, it’s not. But you have every right to be annoyed. I consider myself lucky you don’t punch me sometimes,” Jack agreed.

“Indeed.”

Teal’c enjoyed the colonel’s double take and Sam’s accompanying laugh. He turned to the young woman, deciding quickly that although his thought was not expressed, he owed the major an explanation as well.

“Major Carter, I must tell you your words touched me greatly. I confess I was unsure of your regard for me. I incorrectly interpreted your silence as disregard for me. I am sorry,” Teal’c said with a tilt of his head.

“I had no idea you felt that way, Teal’c. I never meant to do that. You just seem to require little communication, so…” Sam fumbled.

“It is all right, Major Carter,” Teal’c assuaged.

She beamed at him brightly.

Daniel snored loudly.

“Well, kids, I think sleeping beauty here is going to rent some space at the infirmary for a bit. What do you say we grab a bite to eat before we head back to General Hammond? Daniel might be up by the time we’re done. We can bring him a doggy bag,” Jack persuaded.

Teal’c's eyebrows raised at the strange appropriateness of that.

“Ahem,” Janet cleared her throat.

The three conscious members of SG1 startled, heads swinging toward her.

“Janet! I’d forgotten you were here!” Sam exclaimed.

“Yes, well. I am here, and I do know that Daniel will not be staying here. Those muscle relaxants shouldn’t have knocked him out completely, which tells me he’s either a really good actor or he hasn’t eaten in a while. I want you to rouse him and bring him with you. I’ll clear it with General Hammond,” Janet said crisply,” Oh, and I’ve found that if you plug Daniel’s nose, he’ll wake right up.”

Jack and Sam’s eyebrows shot up as high as Teal’c's.

“I don’t even want to know, Doc,” Jack groaned.

Janet headed for the phone, listening for the characteristic gurgle of Daniel Jackson regaining consciousness. She couldn’t hide the grin as she dialed.

“Bwaa! Whass goin’ on?” Daniel cried sleepily.

“C’mon, Daniel. It’s time for some pie.”

“Jack, why am I in the infirmary? Did you say pie?”

“Geez, Daniel, you really are…”

Janet chuckled softly as the voices faded down the hallway. The general finally picked up.

“General Hammond, it’s Dr. Fraiser…Yes, sir. Mission accomplished. You can expect them in the briefing room, pretty much back to normal, in about an hour…Thank you, sir, but I can honestly say I had nothing to do with it this time.”

The End

Fight the Good Light
by Carrie

Oh, great, you’re coding. I suppose now they’re expecting me to carry you all the way up the ramp through the Stargate. Why couldn’t they be happy with me simply rolling you up on the gurney??

Crap. Fine, I’ll carry you, but I’m not happy about it. I’m way too old for—ugh! Geez, Daniel, you may look skinny, but you sure as hell aren’t…

OK, made it through. I’ll just set you down and be all done. You’ll start breathing on your own, I won’t have to—whoa! Going down with you. Ooh, watch the head! They’d kill me if I let it thwack on the floor.

Was that a collective ‘Awwww!’ I just heard in the distance? Damn, I’m playing right into their hands. C’mon Daniel, work with me! Don’t make me resuscitate you. Come on! Please!!

What do they want from me? You gotta admit, I was awesome on the balcony. Just the right mix of fear, concern and caution. Rubbing your shoulder was a spur of the moment decision. It was a nice touch, I have to admit. Rather proud of it.

And the infirmary!! I angsted my ass of for them! So it was chemically, hormonally or whateverly enhanced. I still felt it. I gave it my all. Yet they’re not satisfied.

But this? Uh uh. Nope. Sorry, Daniel. I’ve done all I can do this particular go around. Damnit, where are Carter and Teal’c? Carter’ll resuscitate you; you’re obviously being stubborn.

Oh, good, a distraction. I’ll yell at the kid to demonstrate my agitation at possibly losing you. Then maybe they’ll forget about the mouth to mouth thing. CPR is overrated. I’ll throw in a quick ‘that was very painful but necessary’ look as a bonus.

Help me out here, Daniel! We can’t let them win.

What’s that? Oh, excellent gurgling. Thank God! That was a close one.

Those crazy ladies on the hurt/comfort list would have had a field day if I revived you properly. I have my limits. This round goes to Jack O’Neill.

Better luck next time, ladies.

The End

Flame Turns Blue
by Carrie

Daniel

I don’t know what to do. My mind is sluggish with the delusion I’ve allowed myself to embrace for months. Years, even. How could I have not realized how deeply this runs? I should have seen.

I’m conning myself yet again. I did see, but chose to ignore the truth he laid out before us all on several occasions during the past five years. I naïvely chalked Teal’c's strength of spirit to the nobility of the warrior he is, never once considering the warrior he is, is not noble at all. His ‘strength’ has always been fostered by something else.

My mind now easily displays the warnings Teal’c gave. When Apophis was at the SGC, dying, we all wanted to see him go. Jack was vehemently vocal when it came to what he thought was the best course of action. I agreed one hundred and ten percent—Apophis’ presence evoked a response that still frightens me. If Sam hadn’t come in when she did… I might have killed him.

No. As much as I wanted to, I don’t think I would have. I don’t think Jack would have either. Teal’c would have. I know he would have. I can still see the satisfied smirk on his face as he carried Apophis’ dead body to the active Stargate. My stomach twists with the memory. I admit I was glad to be rid of the Goa’uld, but at the same time was sickened at Martouf’s revelation that Sohkar would revive Apophis to inflict torture upon him. Looking back, I think Teal’c may have understood what he was sending his former master into and took pleasure in it. God.

An even more blatant sign flashes before me. Hell, Teal’c told me the truth. Told me flat out the reason he strove so hard all his life to become First Prime to Apophis. It was not ambition to be the best Jaffa he could be; it was merely a means to seek revenge upon Cronus for the death of his father. I feel like such a fool. He only served Apophis to gain personal fulfillment in wounding Cronus. He said he joined us to help free his people from slavery, but now I wonder if his true motivation was only to seek revenge on Apophis for holding him under slavery his entire life. Are we just a means to an end for Teal’c?

Doubt is crippling me now. I can’t do anything but stand in the cold hallway, hesitating at the door. I know that I need to talk to Teal’c, but I don’t want to face him. I don’t know if I can.

That… look is back. The one that chilled me so thoroughly after Heru’ur had him tortured. The one I saw as Teal’c's hands were squeezing so tightly around my neck. The one that still gives me gooseflesh. The one I knew would make its unwelcome reappearance when I learned of the Tok’ra request for the ship floating above Vorash. Teal’c's face betrayed nothing during the mission briefing, but I could see the darkness edging the corners of his eyes, crawling back into them… into him. I had thought the death of Cronus might have been enough to destroy the blackness forever—if only because that hate was so deep-seated within Teal’c.

I did see the impact Cronus’ death had on Teal’c when I visited him in the infirmary after that mission. He’d been obviously disappointed he’d not been the one to actually do the deed, but was still very pleased at the end result. Ding, dong, the witch is dead. I tried not to get uneasy by Teal’c's pleasure—he looked so smug. Just like at Apophis’ passing. I looked past it. It was easy to do. I’ve done it for years. And for a couple of days, I even forgot there were other wicked witches out there.

I remember now. I scrub a hand through my hair, barely refraining from sighing in consternation. How could I have tricked myself so effortlessly? Tanith is the biggest, nastiest, freshest witch on Teal’c's hit list now that Cronus is dead. Nothing Apophis has done—including brainwashing Ry’ac—comes close to the very personal lesion Tanith scored in Teal’c. He’s a minor annoyance by comparison.

I don’t think Teal’c realizes how much I understand that. Apophis does hold the rank of the vilest being in the universe in my book. I’m no stranger to the darkness growing in Teal’c. Everyone knows it now, thanks to Shifu. Even the watered-down version of my dream-walk caused Sam to flinch, Jack to cringe and General Hammond to wince. Teal’c simply raised his eyebrow, as if to say ‘See? That is what I fight against every day. That is what I am.’

I won’t buy that. Can’t buy it, because we all fight the exact same fight. Roman Catholicism labels it original sin—the potential for evil we’re all born with, which we struggle throughout our daily lives to overcome, never washed completely away by baptism. Teal’c is no different than me. If I can choose a different path, I have to believe he can as well.

As quickly as my self-reassurances bolster my resolve, doubt attacks me again. Teal’c's rage is an incurable illness; a form of cancer so consuming there’s no hope of recovery. I shudder and try to stem that horrible thought, scrunching my eyes tightly as if the action will physically avert my mind from wandering so close to despair.

Instead of forestalling the horror, I’m greeted by rapidly flashing and almost as terrible images. Teal’c's hands clamping tightly around my throat. His eyes cold and dark, yet burning inexplicably deep. Muffled shouting. My own desperate, shuddering gulps for air.

Panic rises in me and I snap my eyes open with a gasp. The nightmarish pictures dissipate quickly, but the physical aftereffects still wrap their icy tentacles around and through me. I jerk my head to the left and right in a subconscious denial of the memories that continue to haunt me. I feel like someone is cruelly holding a pillow over my face, cutting me off from the air I need.

“Daniel?” Sam’s soft voice drifts from behind me.

Oh, I have to pull it together. Can’t let Sam see me so freaked out. Then she’ll know…

“You okay?” she tentatively asks.

Silently heaving a huge mouthful of air, I turn around as blithely as I can and plaster a half-smile on my face. Any more than that would give me away. Sam is looking at me, her eyes huge, innocent and wary at the same time. She assesses me and I fight to keep from shirking her gaze. It doesn’t take a genius to see she already knows or at least suspects something is…bothering me.

“Fine, Sam,” I brush her concern aside. “What’s going on?”

“I was just coming to get you, the colonel and Teal’c. Dad and I are ready to start,” Sam explains. “We’ll be on the pel’tak .”

“I’ll grab them and we’ll head right there,” I hastily offer, knowing I have to take the opportunity to talk to Teal’c now or I might back out altogether.

Sam peers at me with open suspicion now, but nods her head slowly in acquiescence. Her gaze flickers to my neck for an instant before she replies, “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

I watch her walk away from me for a moment before I become aware of my right hand at my throat, massaging gently. Guiltily wrenching the offensive thing away, I turn back toward Teal’c's room and lean on the wall for support. God. I have to look into the darkness now and hope that I can still see a little light.

Sam

My footsteps reverberate thunderously in the barren, Tok’ra constructed tunnel. If I wasn’t worried before, I sure am now. Seeing Daniel standing like a statue outside Teal’c's door and hearing his harsh, raspy breathing were the only indicators I needed to confirm what I already suspected. Something is not right. I think Daniel thinks he fooled me, but he doesn’t know how long I was standing behind him. Doesn’t realize his hand was rubbing his neck the whole time he was giving me false assurances.

His subconscious action shocked me right back to that damn moon, and it completely solidified my concern. I’d never never seen Daniel so upset—even after Sha’re died—as he had been when he woke up on the Tok’ra ship. It was horribly disconcerting. Usually Daniel has the remarkable ability to school his outward appearance when things are extremely emotional. It’s as though there’s a curtain he simply draws across his face that magically voids everything out. I don’t know whether I should be scared that he can pull such a mask, or scared that he thinks he has to.

But not this time. Not this THING. I haven’t quite figured it out yet, not completely anyway. I’m not an idiot. Teal’c strangling Daniel frightened the hell out of me. I’ve never seen him so upset. Upset isn’t nearly a strong enough word for it. His grip was unfathomably strong, locked into completing the task. On whomever it was he envisioned.

At first I thought it was the guy who tortured him, but now I’m not so sure. There was a lot of unspoken communication going on in the ship and I didn’t really catch much of it. I don’t think the colonel did either, but I know he’s not clueless. His face certainly took on that sick look he gets when he’s upset. Like right before Hathor implanted her ‘friend’ in him. Like when we thought Daniel was schizophrenic. Like… God, that list goes on too long. I can’t believe this can be that bad.

The corner approaches and before I turn it, I give Daniel one last glance. He hasn’t moved, except to brace himself up with one hand. His back is to me, yet I can still see his face. Behind the grimace I’m sure he believed was a smile, it was there. This THING is that bad. This THING. It’s maddening to not know what’s going on.

Looking down, I step into the center of the rings and give Dad the go ahead to whisk me away from the cold underground. Like the distance from my friends will keep the awful feeling from eating away at me. I keep my eyes to the decorated floor as I slump back toward the pel’tak. I can figure this out. I know I can. When have I seen Teal’c really angry? The occurrences are so rare, I can rattle them off like a grocery list. When he found out Drey’auc had taken another husband. During Apophis’ little—man I wish it had been final—visit. Well, I didn’t see that, per se. But all the guys were acting a little Neanderthal during that fun adventure. The treaty talks… Cronus.

Not a huge list. I can’t keep the niggling thought that I’m missing something out of my head. I dig deeper into the recesses of my memory, but I keep coming up empty. I choose to focus on what I already now and hope it’ll come to me.

Well, it can’t be Drey’auc. Apophis? Not likely, or this THING would have surfaced well before now; would have been the rule instead of the exception. And Cronus is dead. Damnit. What am I forgetting?

Two boots appear in my field of vision. I don’t associate it with the person they’re connected to as I adjust my gaze upward. Forward motion refuses to stop in time when I look into Dad’s eyes, only about a foot away from me. The next thing I know, I’m all jumbled on the floor while he towers over me with tiny, smug smile and crossed arms.

“Sam. Didn’t I always teach you to look where you’re going?” he laughs and stretches a hand down to help me to my feet.

I don’t see the humor in his comment, my brain still embroiled in its mad scramble for answers. I give him my best ‘teenager-hates-overbearing parent’ look and a near snarl. He wilts into a frown almost instantly. Rubbing the seat of my pants brusquely, I turn and look back toward the rings. Dad tugs my face back to his with a gentle hand on my chin.

“Sam?” he asks, keeping me aligned directly with his eyes.

The warm concern I see in them is a balm that eases my worry just a notch. I give him a smile and a small nod. “It’s probably nothing, Dad. It’s just… I don’t know. You remember back with the whole Apophis/Heru’ur thing? When Teal’c—”

“Oh, I remember. I don’t think I could forget,” Dad blessedly cuts in before I can continue and drops his hand from my face.

“I think whatever that was has resurfaced again,” I comment vaguely.

“Any indication of what ‘it’ was?” Dad pushes.

“No, at least nothing I can figure out,” I admit with a sigh. I suddenly feel the need to change the subject. This one is too uncertain and I really need to get my mind on what’s coming up. This plan is crazy, but it has to work. If we manage to take out Apophis, it’ll be huge both for us and for the Tok’ra. If it doesn’t, at least we’ll not have lost anything. Well, except for a Stargate. “Daniel’s bringing Teal’c and Colonel O’Neill.”

Dad narrows his eyes, understanding my intention to change the subject right away. He sighs audibly to show his reservation; I know Dad and I know he’s already figured out where my train of thought had song. For the most part. Normally, I’d be nothing but nervous about blowing up a sun and excited about the scientific implications of it. But my mind continues to search for answers to the questions Daniel and Teal’c put there.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Dad urges, cupping my elbow and guiding me to the pel’tak. “Selmac wants to go over these calculations one more time.”

“Okay,” I agree, resisting the urge to check the hallway again.

We’re only at is for a few minutes when I hear the colonel’s voice approaching. I turn as he, Daniel and Teal’c enter the room; I didn’t even notice Dad bringing them up to join us. Daniel’s hands are jammed severely into his pockets and the crease that always appears when he’s upset is present, deep and foreboding. Neither he nor Teal’c are speaking. Teal’c looks at us calmly, almost ultra-pleasantly. I have a strange feeling that he’s giving us a snow job. If Daniel’s body language around him is any sign, I’d say that’s pretty much a guarantee.

The colonel is goofing around more than usual. Granted, we’ve never had this good an opportunity to take down the SGCs greatest nemesis. I’ve learned, though, that the higher the stakes, the punchier the colonel gets. He’s pretty much humming now. While I normally appreciate his ability to lighten the atmosphere, this time I can’t help but wonder if more than what is obvious on the surface fuels the silliness.

He gets serious quickly however, and as we maneuver the ha’tak toward the sun, I give each of my teammates another quick appraisal.

Something tells me this isn’t going to go smoothly.

Teal’c

Tau’ri and Tok’ra justice is not sufficient to avenge Shau’nac. Even before Tanith escaped I believed this to be so, though I flaunted the agony he would endure during his removal from the host. I wanted to disembowel him right there, but I foolishly capped my urge. It was a mistake I do not intend to repeat.

I will not allow Daniel Jackson’s words sway my resolve. Tanith will die by my hand. I have never been so certain of anything in my life. If opportunity should arise, I will not hesitate to pursue it until my vengeance is wrought. Why does he not understand that?

With infinite composure, I stab Daniel Jackson precisely where I know it wounds him the most—Sha’re. Surely this comparison will make him comprehend the depth of my determination and hatred. “And yet knowing what Apophis did to Sha’re, would you not trade it all for the opportunity to crush the life from his throat with your bare hands?”

To my satisfaction, pained silence fills the room for countless seconds. Daniel Jackson sees the merit in my words and even now struggles with his emotions regarding the false god.

“Well, I’d be lying to you if I said I’d never thought about it. That doesn’t mean I’d do it, given a more reasonable option,” he finally stutters, distress dusting his words.

“In the future, I will not be capable of such restraint.”

This discussion is over. Giving the blue crystal in front of me a final blink, I stand up and walk around Daniel Jackson into the hallway. I do not spare him a glance, knowing that as it has in the past, his face will play against my weaknesses. For five years, I have fought against darker impulses, striven to conform to Tau’ri principles. Influenced by highly emotional beings. O’Neill leads his team softly; coddles even me. Major Carter displays her feelings, the ease in which she can be wounded readily. I consider this to be a failing in a soldier. And Daniel Jackson. While he is always logical, he is also too often run by his emotions. From the very beginning I have oscillated between admiration and disgust at this quality in him.

I no longer fluctuate.

“Teal’c, wait!” Daniel Jackson calls, running up to me. I take a deep breath to quell my growing frustration with him. I do not wish to harm him, but I will do so if he persists with his futile attempts to reason with me.

“Daniel Jackson,” I growl, with no small amount of irritation.

“I almost forgot. Sam wants us on the pel’tak. She and Jacob are about to begin, and I was supposed to grab you and Jack,” he says breathlessly, his eyes searching mine earnestly. His words are said with ease, but I sense his alarm at the fire, which is no doubt shooting from my own eyes.

I turn the corners of my mouth up into an awkward, artificial smile, but this does not relax him. It does not matter.

“Hey, did I hear my name?” O’Neill calls as he saunters around a corner.

“Indeed, O’Neill. We are going to the ha’tak,” I agreeably relate.

“Great, let’s go,” he breezes and takes the lead.

Daniel Jackson winces one last time before staring at the floor. He avoids looking at me and in return I do not look at him as we walk. My thoughts are only for Tanith.

Jack

It’s a Jaffa revenge thing.

Jaffa revenge thing. Yeah, right. I can’t believe I dismissed this so readily. I guess I did because it’s Teal’c we’re talking about. Teal’c, my ‘brother’, who has now gone way, way over the line. I wish I could say this came from nowhere, but that is a consideration I can’t allow myself.

So here I am, heading for a hunk of dead rock I’d hoped never to visit again. Stuck in a glider with Teal’c. Again. I’ve got that dj vu thing, but instead of the typical uncanny, hair-raising feeling, it’s manifesting itself as weary resignation.

As I sit, I’m powerless to stop Teal’c. He’s hell bent on personally ensuring Tanith’s death. It isn’t good enough to know the snaky bastard will be blown to smithereens in a few short minutes. Oh, no. Teal’c just has to carry it one step farther. He won’t listen to me. Doesn’t even give me the dignity of a response.

I’m not surprised at all with my new and wonderful predicament. Goddamnit, I was the one to suggest we take the glider out here. Hello. Not my most brilliant move. I pretty much gave Teal’c the keys to the Porsche and told him not to take it for a spin. To give myself a little justification, there wasn’t really anything else I could have done. We couldn’t just sit there and wait for Tanith’s buddy to finish us off.

I can’t help but think that had I opened my eyes to the warning signs…opened my mind…I could have tried to prevent this from happening. Daniel tried. He didn’t tell me he tried, but I know he did just the same. The slumped shoulders and his inability to look at Teal’c were a dead give away. They, along with that…look also told me he was unsuccessful.

That look. The one that gave me some damn unpleasant dreams. The same one that should have prompted me into action months ago. The one that told me Daniel saw something in Teal’c that scared the shit out of him, and it wasn’t that he’d nearly been strangled to death by the Jaffa.

I honestly can’t remember a time I’ve seen Daniel so disturbed by something, and that kid has gone through as much bad stuff in his life as I have. I shouldn’t have let it slide. Knew it then and boy do I know it now. I feel like we’ve all been duped into believing we understood Teal’c. I’ve always considered him to be loyal to a fault. Willing, like the rest of us, to forego personal concerns for the good of the SGC. Hell, for the good of the Earth.

How could we have all been so wrong? Even now, I’m harboring feelings of disbelief, clinging to the hope that this isn’t a character flaw that has always driven Teal’c. He’s always managed to pull himself together and tamp down the strong emotions I know course through him. There’s something different about this. Love knows no bounds?

I have a hard time buying into that. I saw definite sparkage between him and Shau’nac, that I’ll admit. Sparkage is a far cry from ‘throw yourself in front of a moving vehicle to save her life’ devotion. Probably not a great example, since I’m sure Teal’c would do that for any of us without hesitation. Well, he would have. Not so sure about that now.

I can’t help but think about the Teal’c I thought I’ve known for five years and try to poke holes in his armor. Try and unmask the hidden man that fooled us so thoroughly. I have all this time on my hands and I can see things crystallize in front of me. He was ready to kill Apophis when he was our POW; he once threatened to dismember Maybourne, though I think he might have been half joking; he was pretty damn pissed when that other Jaffa guy married Drey’auc…I could go on and on. But the only time I’ve seen Teal’c's rage personified so explicitly was when he figured out Tanith had killed Shau’nac. I remember the feeling of panic welling in my chest as droves of Tok’ra barely restrained him. He had been like a mad dog, rabid and tenacious in his fury.

I sit up straighter in my seat at the memory. All I can envision is Teal’c's hands, clenching and unclenching in time with his jaw muscle. His rage was centered there. Just like when he had his hands around Daniel’s neck on the moon after Heru’ur went bye-bye. I shudder, imagining that I can hear Daniel gasping for air right now. Turning my head to the side as if to block out that nonexistent sound, darkness and stars stare back at me through the hood. Even close up, they appear small. Tiny dots of light in so much black.

Is this what Daniel saw in Teal’c back then? Oppressive blackness? I want to think Daniel found light somewhere in there. He had to have. No way would Daniel have dropped it with one look from Teal’c if he’d had any doubts. Unless…

Unless Teal’c had successfully deceived Daniel. I look away from the normally awe inspiring celestial bodies surrounding me and bore my eyes once again into the back of Teal’c's head. The Daniel from five years ago might have been taken in by insincere promises, but not the harder, wiser Daniel that has evolved. No, Daniel has known all along, just like I’ve known. And neither of us wanted to nor was willing to admit it.

More fools the both of us.

All this recrimination is really getting me nowhere. A waste of time. I’m finished wavering between anger at Teal’c for getting me into this and anger at me for getting myself into this and I’m back to complete acceptance. What’s done is done. Just like we’ve pulled through equally sticky situations, we’ll get out of this. Teal’c can’t be so far gone that he’s lost his never say never pit bullishness to survive.

The sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach tells me otherwise. I just have to come to terms that chances are high that I’m going to die out here. By a real supernova or the artificial one sitting in the cockpit in front of me.

All I can really do is hope Teal’c will be satisfied with eliminating Tanith’s escape vehicle and we can get back to the mothership ASAP. The Carter’s will have it repaired and we can get the hell out of here. And, unlike Apophis and his minions, in one piece.

It’s seemed to take forever to catch up to the Goa’uld bomber, but we finally have. Teal’c's firing like crazy on it, and it’s going down fast and hard.

But Teal’c's not pulling up. Shit, shit, shit.

“Pull up, Teal’c!” I scream fruitlessly. “Teal’c, pull up!”

The bomber bursts into an orange fireball and we’re not far enough away to avoid the blast.

“Mayday, mayday! We are SO going in!”

God, I hope someone hears me.

Daniel

‘Mayday, mayday! We are SO going in!’

Jack’s voice haunts my head and over as I stand here uselessly on the pel’tak. My brain twists his words around into ‘My fault, my fault! Why didn’t I tell him what was going on?’ as if a mockingbird jeers them at me. Jack’s out there now, maybe dead, because I didn’t tell him what was really going on with Teal’c. God, Teal’c could be dead too.

Jack knew, but he didn’t know. Now it’s too late and again I can’t think of what I’m supposed to do. Part of me wants to yell for Sam; the other part says to let her focus on fixing the ship so we can go find Jack and Teal’c. I’ve decided to believe they are alive, despite the fact that I’ve tried to raise them on the radio fifteen times to no avail. They’re alive. They’re alive. They are alive.

I repeat the words over and over under my breath like a muted chant, seeking some sort of comfort from them. I get none and my mind wanders. How long since Jack’s cut off message? Five minutes? Gotta give Sam and Jacob just a little bit more time. Think, think, think. My mind jumps.

Shifu.

What did tell me? The true nature of a man is determined in the battle between his conscious mind and his subconscious. He also said that the evil in his subconscious was too strong to resist.

Goa’uld evil. Evil Teal’c carries in him every day.

Shau’nac had been convinced she had ‘turned’ Tanith good by communicating with him, a belief ultimately proved incorrect. The depth of Goa’uld malevolence is seemingly unending and impenetrable. The Tok’ra are a direct contradiction to this fact, strange anomalies in an otherwise sick gene pool. And even they push the envelope sometimes.

Teal’c also verified communication is possible between a Jaffa and his symbiote, and that the symbiote is capable of inflicting horrible imagery and hatred onto its carrier. We’ve seen what the fully matured monsters are capable of, making marionettes out of people, forcing them to act against their will. If an infant Goa’uld can unleash hatred of extreme magnitude, I wonder if it’s possible for the larvae to influence the Jaffa in a similar manner as a grown one manipulates its host.

I’m leaping, still trying to justify Teal’c's ostensibly abrupt change in character. We know the Goa’uld have other methods with which to control humans, but what if Teal’c's larvae, once the first contact was initiated, maintained a link with him? Fed him subliminal messages of hate and revenge Teal’c was unable to detect or prevent?

Oh, Jack would have a field day with that one. I’m getting hysterical here. If that were indeed the case, Teal’c would have gone like… that long before now. It’s a completely crazy thought, fraught with alarm and panic. My rational mind understands that the mental jump I’ve just taken is based on emotions rather than logic. But I can’t seem to help it.

The screen flashes in front of me, startling my rambling brain. Oh, crap. I think Apophis is here already.

“Sam,” I call down to her.

“Go ahead,” she responds immediately, voice full of stressed determination.

“I just got a mayday from Jack,” I can hear the tension in my own voice.

“What’s going on?” Sam snaps worriedly.

“I don’t know. I lost the transmission.”

Just get up here, Sam! I lose track of the conversation, fixating instead on the red, Goa’uld scripted warnings pulsating in front of me. My blood is teeming through the veins in my temples in time with them. I fidget, waiting for Sam and Jacob to join me. Sure, I have the pel’tak, but that really doesn’t mean anything since everything still seems to be offline. I just want them to finish the repairs and get the hell up here so we can go collect Jack and Teal’c.

Shifu said the spark lights the flame, but the candle will only burn as long as the wick. I’m still not certain I know what that means, but in this context I’m really hoping the hot blue flame that’s fueling Teal’c has been burned in its entirety. That he’s done what he set out to do, and that he’s resolved his issues without killing himself or Jack.

Or us.

Sam

I frantically tug at the blackened hyperdrive crystals as if they are the cause for my anxiety. When the colonel took off with Teal’c in the glider, I knew it was a bad idea to split up. They never should have left this ship. What if they’re already dead? God, what if Apophis gets here before we can make the repairs and go find out?

Tanith. Yanking the last crystal out with a grunt, I indulge myself and hurl it across the room. It shatters magnificently and I feel better for a moment. “Oh, relax, Carter. We’ll be back in plenty of time, he said,” I mutter, “Sure you will, sir. You’re back right now aren’t you?”

Should have known it was Tanith. That whole situation with Shau’nac never sat well with me. I couldn’t believe Teal’c would leave us to go train all Jaffa to ‘commune’ with their symbiotes. I wanted to scream at him that Shau’nac and Bra’tac could take care of that; we needed him here. I’ve never seen him so, so elated. It makes me wonder now if perhaps he was thinking with something other than his brain.

“Great, Sam. Attack Teal’c when he can’t defend himself. Classy. Real nice,” I mumble, trying to focus on the even more important repairs in front of me. Teal’c's face after he and the colonel returned from Vorash keeps flashing in front of my eyes. Tight, gruesome lines burned his features, terrifying and maniacal.

The chill I felt then sweeps through me again. That must have been what Daniel was so freaked out about on the moon after his up close and personal with Teal’c. If I only saw it from a distance, how much worse had it been when Teal’c was essentially out of his mind with rage?

I have to physically pull myself away from that dark thought, rubbing my arms to stem the invasion of cold. It’s too late now to do anything, if anything could have prevented this in the first place. I have to focus on getting the hell to Vorash.

“Sam? How’s it going down there?” Dad’s voice summons.

“Good, Dad. Got all the crystals out. Now what?” I tersely answer him.

“There should be replacements in a compartment just underneath the drive. Start putting them back in this order: first yellow, then red, then white and finally blue. Then we should be back in business,” Dad coolly instructs. “I’m almost to the pel’tak. We’ll be to Vorash shortly.”

I start swiftly and industriously replacing the crystals in their proper places. Thank God the Goa’uld color-coded everything so nicely for me. It won’t take me long and we can go see if we can pull the colonel and Teal’c out of the fire.

If it’s not already too late.

Jack

Son of a bitch. I scoop up a fistful of sand and scatter it into the wind in frustration. It flies back in my face, stinging my cheeks and eyes, but I don’t care.

I think Teal’c's dead. Just when I think he was ready to get back to normal. The bomber destroyed, he seemed confident Tanith’s death was ensured. As pissed as I was at him for getting us grounded here, I was also relieved that the top item on his agenda was finding the transport rings, not finding snakeboy to finish dispatching him. I knew he was right about Carter and Daniel. Hell, Jacob too. They’d never leave without verifying if we were still alive to be rescued. I really thought we were going to make it.

I miscalculated. We bumbled around without the slightest regard for watching the perimeter. Should have figured Tanith would be hanging around the rings, but the Jaffa had been a total surprise. Where had they come from? No way the guys in the bomber survived. I tap my head on the ground in a comforting rhythm as the last streaks of zat-induced pain lance through me. Rolling onto my side, I scrutinize the spot where Teal’c fell. When Carter and Daniel get here, I’m going to have to know where to stand.

Teal’c is dead. I have to resign myself to that fact, no hedging, no hoping. That staff blast hit him right in between his shoulder blades and he went down like a bag of lead, with barely a groan. I couldn’t do anything but run. Leaving him lying there in the open was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. What choice did I have? Left him, so motionless.

Rising to my feet, I keep my eyes locked on that spot. I stumble over, half out of residual stupor from the zat, half because of the emotional stupor I’m finding myself in. Right here. My friend died right here.

“Jack, come in.”

I vaguely hear Daniel’s voice, but I ignore it. Don’t want to face it just yet. Kicking the sand and running a hand through my hair, I ignore him.

“Jack, come in,” Daniel repeats, concern obvious in his tone, even through the static.

“Yeah, I’m here! Hey, thanks for checking in!” I shout back, inappropriately taking out my frustration on Daniel. I shouldn’t. I know it, but I can’t stop myself.

“Yeah, we had a little trouble avoiding Apophis’ fleet. Are you in position to be ringed up?” Daniel snaps back, instantly on the defensive from my verbal attack.

Guilt instantly rises up. I have no right to yell at Daniel for my own failings. I let them kill Teal’c right in front of me, deliver him with a beautiful bow to Apophis. Damn snakehead will probably try and revive him, but it’s useless. Teal’c is dead, will be blown up along with the rest of Apophis’ fleet.

“Uh, yeah, I suppose…I don’t know,” I mutter, now subdued as hope that Teal’c somehow survived or will survive flees fast.

“Jack, if you’re not in position—” Daniel begins, concern once again coming to the forefront.

“Daniel, just get me the hell out of here, will you?” I scream. Me, just me. Don’t you get it yet, Daniel?

Teal’c is dead.

Daniel

Jack’s refusing to tell me anything, though I don’t know why. When he ringed up all alone, did he not think that I’d figure out something bad happened to Teal’c? He just looked at me, trying to stop the anguished pain from transmitting from his eyes.

It didn’t work. My stomach is one big lump as we run for the pel’tak. Teal’c is dead. Dead. I can’t think about anything else, can’t hear anything but those words repeating in my head. I don’t care that we’ve just barely escaped being blown to bits by either Apophis’ fleet or the exploding sun. Teal’c is dead.

Whoa! Jack and I suddenly are jerked backwards slightly. “Wha-what was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jack tersely answers.

I take that as Jack’s way of telling me to shut up. I’ve learned a lot about how to read Jack’s more subtle instructions this past year. As we enter the pel’tak, Sam turns around with a puzzled look. Teal’cisdeadTeal’cisdead.

Mind still reeling with that thought, I completely miss the conversation until Jacob says something about the long-range sensors picking up a ship. Ship? Suddenly Apophis’ massive ha’tak is practically on top of us and all we can do is stare at it.

I unexpectedly flash back to something else Shifu said as I gaze at the ship. He said it to ease my fear of never seeing him again—many paths cross along the way to the Great Path. He looked right at Teal’c after he said that.

And then I know.

Teal’c isn’t dead.

The End

For Every Action
by Carrie

Children ran through gutters reeking of waste, oblivious to the fact life could be so much better. That it was so much better mere steps away.

No, not oblivious, Jack O’Neill thought upon closer review. The kids ran but what they were doing could not be considered playing. There were no smiles or laughter. Their bellies were distended and grotesque, their arms and legs like sticks. There was nothing but squalor as far as the eye could see, grime on every corner, and the expressions on people’s faces spoke of relentless destitution. He had traveled the Earth over, had seen much in his day. But this… this was unexpected and so shocking. There had been no gradual change of neighborhood, just a rapid switch from affluent to poor.

“Oh, my god,” Carter whispered. “Are we on the same planet?”

“It would seem we are, Captain Carter,” Teal’c said.

The posh neighborhood SG-1 had only just left was so disparate from the images that now befell them Jack felt slightly dizzy, like he had been spun too quickly in a revolving door. Instead of homes made of brick, stucco or the highest grains of wood, these people lived in rusted tin sheds, some with no doors, and most with holes in the roofs. The sewage-lined streets spoke of no plumbing. It was easy to assume other conveniences weren’t available either. No electricity, no running water, nothing to make life even a little more bearable. There was no industry here, none of the technology that abounded in the city. Beside him, Daniel choked what he thought might be an attempted response to Carter’s question. It could just as easily have been revulsion.

Jack had an inexplicable feeling SG-1 weren’t meant to have seen this part of Wiutehian society, an inkling that set his nerves on edge. He had maintained a definite suspicion about their potential allies since they had set foot on the planet, and now it solidified into full-blown comprehension; the polish the political attach had demonstrated was just that—a shiny coating to pretty up ugliness beneath. The city they had been given a grandiose tour of yesterday was a front, a deception. He didn’t want to be right about that. The SGC needed him to be wrong, because they were sitting on a planet that could keep both science and military happy for a long time.

“God,” Daniel said, finally managing to speak. He reached up and unclipped one side of his backpack. “This is…”

“Whatcha doin’?” Jack asked as Daniel unclipped the other side of his pack and spun around to try and catch it before it thudded to the ground.

“Obviously we’re not equipped to do much, but we have our MREs. Blankets. Tablets to purify the water. That sort of thing.”

Okay, not a bad thought. Jack glanced around. Either they were either being ignored or they hadn’t been seen yet. He watched as Carter followed Daniel’s lead, emptying her pack of relief paraphernalia, and then so did Teal’c. Jack sighed. Daniel was right, but every ounce of his being was screaming at him to back away, and back away quickly.

“Yeah, good idea. But let’s make it fast.”

“Jack, we can’t just leave these people like this,” Daniel protested, just as Jack knew he would. And Jack agreed on one level, but on another he could only predict disaster. “Look at them. It … this…”

“I just have this feeling we’re not supposed to be here.” Even as he said it, Jack knew if those words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, he would have rolled his eyes and mocked them. He unfastened his backpack and started rooting through it. “The muckety-mucks aren’t going to let us just waltz in here and fix a problem they’re very likely aware of. Hell, for all we know, they made this.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

Jack didn’t know what he meant, that was the problem. He shrugged his shoulders, tossing his last MRE on the pile that had amassed. It was a pitiful example of aid.

“It’s not the rich we should be thinking about right now. It’s these…”

Daniel threw an arm out, casting it over the dilapidated collection of homes. Carter was behind him, clipping his backpack on. Both of them stared at him, a double dose of entreating eyes.

“I know that,” Jack said. “I can see them. We can’t do much of anything right now, not just the four of us. And it might be in these people’s best interest if we don’t mention our accidental journey here until we know more.”

Never mind that it could also be in SG-1′s best interest, Jack thought but didn’t verbalize. His couldn’t be the only spidey sense going off. He glanced at Teal’c and saw pretty much nothing in his expression. Someday he was going to get a line on the Jaffa. He switched his attention to Carter, usually a much better gauge. She looked peaked, overwhelmed by the misery surrounding them and therefore pretty much useless for any type of valid assessment. Jack took a few steps backward, toward where they came from. He needed to pull his team away from this horror before it sucked in at least the human members. It seemed to be doing just that, like there was some invisible force that could affect them in a very real way.

“Sir.”

“Jack.”

“Look, I’m not proposing we abandon these folks. We’ll information gather.” Jack cut off a dual protest with a swipe of his hand. “I want to make sure I understand the situation before we take any type of major action.”

“We could information gather here too, Jack.”

“Yeah, we could, but look around. It speaks for itself. So if someone would be so kind as to hook my pack back up, we need to get going. Now.”

Daniel glared at him while Teal’c walked over to lend him the requested hand. Once his pack was secure, Jack turned around, more than ready to be on his way. He almost plowed right over a small child who had insinuated him … her … itself directly into his path. Guess SG-1 had been noticed after all.

“Jeez.”

Jack sidestepped, flailing his arms slightly until he regained proper balance. The child blinked up at him, eyes enormous and sad. A bug crawled across its shoulder, and dirt smudged its face. God. He was not impervious to the depressing influence here himself. His stomach turned. He reminded himself that even on Earth such conditions existed. This place could easily be an impoverished shantytown in numerous Third World countries. But, no, this was different. This was literally right next door to wealth and power. His mental justifications did not make him feel any better. The child took a step toward him. Jack took a step away. It was instinctive, and the exact opposite of his usual reaction with kids. He felt like an asshole. He waved his hands out in front of him, as if to ward off the child.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jack said.

“Leumas, emoc ereh! Teg yawamorf esoht elpoep,” a man shouted, hobbling toward them. Dragging his crooked legs was a more accurate description, as the man relied on crutches for forward movement. “Uoy wonktahw sneppah nehw yeht eraereh.”

Clearly, the universal translator thingamabob wasn’t installed here, but Jack didn’t need to understand the words to know panic. The man kept shouting unintelligibly. His cries drew the attention of more of the unfortunate citizens of the shantytown. Instead of rushing forward, which for some reason Jack expected they might do, adults grabbed listless children and shuttled them indoors. Right. What was he thinking, assuming the people might imagine they were here to help? He should know better by now.

“It’s like they’re afraid,” Carter said, then spoke more loudly, to the people rather than the rest of SG-1, “You don’t have to be frightened.”

“I believe your efforts are futile, Captain Carter,” Teal’c said.

Teal’c was right. The people couldn’t understand SG-1 any more than SG-1 could understand them. Jack glanced at Daniel to see if he was catching any of the frantic man’s outcries. Daniel shook his head back and forth, a horrified expression on his face but absolutely no indication he was translating. Jack thought maybe Daniel was starting to agree with him about getting out of here, except then Daniel took a step forward where he had hedged backward. The native apparently assumed even more ill intent, somehow managing to grasp Daniel’s arms tightly for a moment before shoving him. The guy barely had any strength, but Daniel took two faltering steps to regain his balance.

“Truhem llauoy tnaw, tub evaelym nos enola.” The man pushed Daniel one more time, probably to emphasize whatever his bizarre words were. He nearly toppled over himself.

“Hey,” Jack said, moving closer. Nobody shoved his team members around, not even an impoverished cripple. Daniel now wore a strange, almost pained expression but he seemed unharmed. “Hands off.”

“Ohwserac tuoba mih. Leumas, ogkcab edisni,” the man said to the little boy. He glared at each of SG-1 in turn. “Uoy lliw tonmrah mih ynaregnol.”

And then it was over. The man and boy left SG-1′s immediate vicinity without any more shouting or shoving. Jack surveyed the tin houses one more time. What life there was before this little incident was quelled into nothingness. The neighborhood was dire before. Now it was damn spooky.

“I don’t think we’ll get any information out of these people.”

“No,” Daniel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d say not.”

“Convinced we should blow this Popsicle stand now?”

Daniel jutted out an arm, ushering Jack onward. Twenty short steps later they were out of the ghetto and back into cookie-cutter suburbia. He wasn’t a big believer in environment having an impact on mood, but he swore he felt better just for being in a much more appealing place. The smell of sewer lingered, however, clinging to his clothes and hair.

“I wonder why the Wiutehians didn’t tell us about that part of town,” Carter said. “It’s not like we wouldn’t understand impoverishment. It happens everywhere.”

“I have not seen such a place on Earth.”

“That’s only because we tend to hide it a bit further away from us, Teal’c,” Daniel said. “Division of classes is an understandable occurrence, actually. I’m sure there are different classes of Jaffa in your society. I’d guess having a figurehead like Apophis—or any of the Goa’uld for that matter—would also make religion a primary reason for societal tiers.”

“Indeed.”

Daniel looked a little thrown, like he had expected Teal’c to issue a wordy response. Damn, Jack was going to have to take lessons from Teal’c on how to best get Daniel to shut up with one simple word. Jack was well aware Daniel had a point, but just couldn’t shake the feeling there was something very different about this situation.

“I’m thinking it’s more like the Touched and Untouched,” Jack said.

“Yes, Jack, you’re right. It’s like ancient India,” Daniel said absently.

“Ancient India?” Teal’c said.

Jack could just tell a brain numbing explanation was coming. So much for Teal’c stunning Daniel into silence.

“On Earth, in India specifically, there was a very defined social system,” Daniel explained for Teal’c's benefit. “At the bottom of the scale was a group called the Untouchables. These were people who worked jobs that were viewed as embarrassing and low-level. Unclean occupations, if you will. The Untouchables essentially had no rights in society.”

Jack hadn’t seen any industry at all back there. He turned around to glance back at the ghetto but he couldn’t see it anymore. Huh. It didn’t seem to him those folks performed any work at all, at least not there. And if not there, where? Sure as hell not in the pristine city they now walked through.

“Treatment of Untouchables was different by region. In some regions the Untouchables were seen merely as tainted people and their dwellings were at a distance from the rest of the settlements. The Untouchables were not allowed to touch people from those ‘clean’ settlements, let alone cross the tracks.”

“Cross the…”

“Never mind, Teal’c. It’s an expression,” Jack said, glaring at Daniel.

“I see.”

“That sounds similar to what we have here, Daniel,” Carter said.

It also sounded similar to his own guess of Touched/Untouched, but he didn’t mention that, afraid if he did so Daniel would go off on another tangent. He’d just let Daniel think he had referenced Earth culture, not the Land of Light.

“I hope so.”

“You hope so? Why?”

“Because in other regions of ancient India, the division wasn’t quite so benign. If, because of any reason, there was a contact between an Untouchable and a member of a higher caste, person of higher caste became defiled and had to be purified. In some cases, an Untouchable could have been beaten or murdered for daring to touch someone of a different caste.”

“So we don’t tell anyone you got touched, Daniel. From the looks of him, that guy doesn’t need any more grief and, well, purification could mean so many diverse and wonderful things,” Jack said.

“Yeah.”

They fell into silence as they walked back toward the center of town. Jack started to regret that they had even let themselves get off the beaten trail. Life was so much easier in ignorance. Both Daniel and Carter would probably kill him for thinking that, but it was true. Without knowing about the ghetto, a trade agreement could have easily been hashed out. Now the situation was much stickier. Morally complicated. Okay, now he was just disgusting himself. Maybe he really was a closet bastard. Daniel stumbled, apparently over his own feet because the walkways here were smooth, even, and perfect. Putting out a hand, Jack barely prevented Daniel from taking a total header.

“Careful there,” he said.

“I think I’m still a little distracted. Whatever that guy was upset about, he was very intense.”

“He made me nervous, too.” Carter put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “I think he just thought you were going to hurt the boy, though.”

“That’s what worries me. They probably thought we were Wiutehians, and if their first reaction is to hide … well, what does that remind you of?”

“It reminds me of many alien races’ attempts to avoid subjugation by Apophis,” Teal’c said.

They got quiet again, and Jack knew his team felt the same way he did—that it was not a very happy comparison. Their shiny new trade partners were potentially Goa’uld-like. The city center was just ahead. Hopefully no one noticed their absence, and even if they did it was time to zip the lips with all the suppression-of-the-masses talk. It wouldn’t be good for interplanetary relations to have read the situation all wrong. Provided the unease he and his team felt was way off base, which Jack seriously doubted, things could still carry on smoothly. The slum might be very easily explained, though he did want to know how they camouflaged it so well.

“Look sharp, people. I shouldn’t have to say this, but I don’t want any kind of confrontation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“To alarm the Wiutehians would indeed be an inappropriate course of action.”

Good, he knew they’d agree with…

“Daniel? We won’t be raising this issue until we know more.” Daniel was always the question mark, and Jack still needed concrete assurance his orders were clearly understood. Looking at Daniel, Jack didn’t think he was going to wage a protest. No, the guy just looked distracted. “Daniel, you with me?”

“What?” Daniel blinked.

Jack frowned.

Daniel blinked again.

“Jack, I don’t think we should let them know we’re suspicious.”

Jack refrained—just barely—from cuffing Daniel upside the head. He looked over at Carter, catching her returning her attention back to where the ghetto should be. They were all off their games, he realized, and it just added to his apprehension. As much as his impulse was to provide some aid to the forlorn members of this society, he also wanted to walk straight through the ‘gate and not look back.

“Ah, there you are,” Bajiar called, trotting down the steps of the large city hall building.

Now that was a guy Jack had pegged as slick from the moment they had met. The way Daniel described Bajiar’s position he was the mayor of this burgh. Or magistrate. Or something. He hadn’t really paid much attention, he admitted. Didn’t matter so much. It was the slickness that mattered, and slickness was never something he really liked to see in a group’s negotiator. Besides religious fanaticism, slickness was right at the top of the list of unfavorable attributes. The guy could be a used car salesman, sans a tacky suit.

“I wondered where you disappeared to.”

He plastered a grin on his face, which Bajiar seemed to mirror. Jack found that very disconcerting. He wasn’t sure how to play the situation. Lying outright would probably only end up biting them in the ass.

“We were stretching our legs.”

“I see.” Bajiar’s smile was plaster, molded to fit one particular shape.

Jack was only starting to realize how difficult it was to read the alien. He was like Teal’c, only on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum. And short, very pale, unmuscular, verbose…

“I expected you back over twenty minutes ago. Captain Carter, you’ll be happy to know I’ve arranged several tours of our science labs just for you,” Bajiar said.

Carter looked at him for direction. Jack nodded. That was as good a place as any to ask questions. He just hoped they weren’t all expected to tag along.

“That sounds great,” Carter said.

Bajiar started leading them up the steps. Jack noticed that several large fellows situated themselves directly behind and around SG-1. Escorts. He scowled and toyed with his MP-5. The Wiutehians had been non-violent thus far, but then SG-1 hadn’t done anything to piss them off.

“Where exactly did you go on your walk?” Bajiar said.

The question was harmless, but it was asked carefully. There was definitely a right and a wrong answer, and Jack suspected Bajiar and the goons surrounding them already knew where they had been. He also suspected they weren’t too happy about it.

“We went sightseeing,” Jack said. “Carter here is thinking of building her own house and she wanted to see if she get some ideas from your architecture.”

“And did you, Captain Carter?”

Carter shot him an annoyed look, and then her eyes widened. Jack followed her gaze, only to see Daniel falling up the stairs. This time he wasn’t able to get a hold on Daniel before impact. He winced at the thump. That had to hurt and what was up with Daniel anyway? His teammate picked himself up, glasses askew and cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

“I seem to have two left feet today,” Daniel said.

Understatement.

“You are well, though?” Bajiar asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m fine.”

Truthfully, now that he thought about it, Jack could kiss Daniel for the unwitting distraction he just provided. Maybe Bajiar’s question to Carter would get lost in the shuffle, and his 2IC wouldn’t need to dig him out the hole his flippancy had started.

“Good. Now, Captain Carter, how did you find our architecture?”

Maybe not. Carter resumed glaring at him, and so Jack cleared his throat.

Bajiar focused on him once more.

“Okay, we’ll be honest with you. We weren’t looking at architecture. We really were just stretching our legs, though. Imagine our surprise to end up in the slums.”

“I smell it on you.” Bajiar sniffed. “I smelled it before you were within twenty feet of me.”

“You have a great nose then.”

“You must wonder why we keep our poor so effectively hidden.”

“Yes, a little,” Daniel said. “Are you ashamed of them?”

Bajiar looked at him, nostrils flaring. He leaned close to Daniel.

Jack bristled at the manner in which Bajiar sized up Daniel, like he was a cheap, drunk woman at a bar, an easy mark. And that analogy was incorrect, because Bajiar didn’t look interested in the guy so much as disdainful toward him.

“Not ashamed. We don’t see reason to let that particular … environment despoil ours. As you witnessed yourselves, we do not put up a tangible barrier, for if we did you would never have happened upon it.”

“Barriers don’t have to be tangible to be solid,” Daniel said. “Are you doing anything to help them?”

Bajiar’s left eye twitched. Jack saw their escorts moving closer as Bajiar futzed around to open the big door. The interior of the building was dark, and though they had already been inside, Jack was suddenly apprehensive about going back in. It was Daniel’s image coming to life, he thought, because nothing Bajiar said or did was a direct threat but it still felt very real. Intangible solidity.

“We provide aid where we can.”

Someone snorted. Judging by the trajectory and strength of the resulting wind gust, Jack would put money on that someone being Teal’c. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Teal’c inquisitively. He supposed, though, Teal’c would know better than any of them what repression was and just what role oppressors had in it. The guy had filled both sets of shoes at the same time.

“Aid? Can you give us specifics?” Daniel asked.

So much for no confrontation. Jack wasn’t particularly annoyed with Daniel for disregarding his earlier directive, however. He was actually heartened by it. At least Daniel seemed more with it now. No matter what the question, he figured Bajiar had a sidestep at the ready; the alien was apparently a master at vague answers.

“I think perhaps it is time for you to go.”

Well, that was out of the blue.

“Isn’t that overreacting a bit?” Jack said.

Clearly Bajiar didn’t think so, and if Bajiar didn’t think so then the whole of the Wiutehian leaders wouldn’t think so. The goons corralled SG-1 closer to the doorway. Jack noticed just how massive they were.

“We cannot negotiate with people who are untruthful, Colonel O’Neill. You ventured out where you were not invited and then you lied about it.”

“Oh, come on. This is not about us walking around. It’s about finding those poor people.”

“You claim to value truth, and yet you seem unable to be truthful yourselves,” Daniel said. “We haven’t asked for anything but reasonable explanations and information.”

The conversation was over. A meaty hand clutched at the nape of his neck. Jack squirmed out of it easily enough, but found that Carter and Daniel weren’t quite as able. Teal’c glowered at the henchmen, as if daring them to attempt touching him. None did.

“We would have preferred for you to leave voluntarily.”

This was all ridiculous. Like Daniel said, Jack didn’t understand what could be so terrible about SG-1 wanting to have a little more information. It seemed the Wiutehians were a very black and white people. There was truth and there were lies, there was wealth and there was poverty, and never the twain should meet. Hammond would feel the heat on this one and he regretted that, but at this point it wasn’t up to him. He hated the loss of control more than anything.

“We still can. Get your hands off them. Now.” Jack skirted around until his back was against the wall and fingered his MP-5. He didn’t want violence. Bajiar was unperturbed at having a weapon pointed at him, which made Jack even more nervous. The thugs didn’t move. “Get your hands off them, please.”

Carter continued to buck against the big hands… and now arms… holding her. She was bodily lifted from the ground and carried through the doorway.

Teal’c took a step forward, and the thugs that couldn’t hold him finally drew weapons, out of thin air.

It made sense that if they could hide an entire segment of the population from the naked eye they could also hide small armament, Jack thought.

“Hey, knock it off. We’re going.”

With guns literally pointed at his and Teal’c's heads and the other two members of his team being manhandled, Jack had no choice but to hold his hands up and involuntarily go where told. He did manage to glare at the crowd of gawkers that lined the edges of the hall’s grand, marble-laden atrium housing the Stargate. His primary concern was that they’d be tossed through the ‘gate before they could input the iris code. Of course, he should have realized Bajiar would dial the coordinates himself and that Earth was not the destination. Carter was tossed through to the unknown location, then Daniel was held halfway into the wormhole while he and Teal’c moved toward the event horizon. Daniel, bless him, was still fighting for all he was worth just to give his captor a rough time.

“It didn’t need to come to this,” Jack said.

Jack couldn’t actually figure out why it had. Teal’c strode into the activated Stargate, and for that Jack was glad. He wasn’t about to leave without Daniel, but was a bit concerned about Carter. Bajiar didn’t say anything. Jack sighed.

“Okay, let him go.”

And let Daniel go they did, with an overzealous shove. Jack followed, no longer the slightest bit regretful for severing ties. If he never saw the Wiutehians again it would be too soon.

As far as planets went, the one Bajiar dumped them on wasn’t bad. She had expected someplace more like a prison. Sam picked herself up from the ground and started brushing sand off her backside. She was going to be sore in a couple hours, but that was nothing compared to her bruised pride. She never should have been overpowered like that. She glanced up at dual suns. She still had one hand on her ass when she heard the sucking sound of a wormhole discharging a person. She turned around in time to see Teal’c step gracefully through the Stargate.

“Are you well, Captain Carter?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Sam dropped her hand quickly and righted her hat. “I couldn’t possibly be better.”

She turned slowly. They had gone from an urban paradise to a tropical one. Lush flora edged along a white sand beach and green water lapped on the shore. The air smelled of wet, hot salt as the breeze rolled from the sea, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Either Bajiar didn’t know where he had sent them or he wasn’t that bad of a bad guy after all. She doubted the last was possible, so she instantly became wary of her surroundings. They might not be as beautiful as they seemed. She fingered her weapon, glad hadn’t been disarmed. Thank goodness for small favors.

“Are the colonel and Dan…?”

Daniel flew through the ‘gate in much the same manner she had, arms and legs flailing, before she could finish her question. He landed on the ground with an ‘oof’ and a couple of rolls.

Guess that answered part of her question. Sam moved toward her downed teammate.

“Daniel, you okay?”

“Just great,” Daniel said, voice muffled by sand. He started coughing and flipped over onto his back. It looked really uncomfortable, what with his backpack underneath him. He let his head hang upside down. “Where are we?”

Like they could answer that question.

“Sons of bitches,” the colonel said as he abruptly stalked through the wormhole, immediately focusing on Daniel, then switching to her. “You all right, Daniel? Carter?”

“Fine,” they both told him at once.

Daniel sat up with his legs stretched out in front of him like a little kid. He had an expression on his face that Sam was certain was similar to the one she had earlier—knowledge of aches and pains to come. She found herself wincing again. The ‘gate shut down, leaving them in relative silence. A bird screeched from high above them, in the tree canopy.

“Great. Let’s go home and face the music.”

Good idea … only Sam realized that in her quick perusal of their immediate surroundings she hadn’t seen a DHD. Oh, fabulous. She saw belatedly that the Stargate was on a dais, and that said dais was mostly buried by sand. It would take Colonel O’Neill about two seconds to figure that out on his own and then…

“Shit, where’s the DHD?”

“There does not appear to be one, O’Neill.”

Sam wondered if Teal’c was always going to state the obvious. In some ways, she found it kind of endearing and goodness knew she needed any little bit of connection she could get with him. He was so formal all the time, and so silent. It made her nervous more often than not, to be honest, and reminded her more than the tattoo on his forehead that he was an entirely different species.

“Yeah, you think?”

“I do.”

Yes, bless Teal’c. The colonel looked so cranky and exasperated that it was almost humorous. If they hadn’t just been dumped in prison—albeit a very nice prison—Sam might have laughed. As it was, she held her amusement to a smile and then held out her hand to Daniel, who grasped it and clumsily scrambled to his feet. Her shoulder felt the strain, making her think she was doing more to get Daniel vertical than he was himself. She let go once he stood rather waveringly, and then she rubbed her strained shoulder.

“So priority one is to find the DHD,” Sam said, shooting Daniel an annoyed look for her newest ache. Great, though, now she was channeling Teal’c, only from her it didn’t sound very charming at all. She could tell the colonel was glaring at her. She made a show of searching for the missing device. “But we might not even need it. The Stargate could have an extra reserve of power and we could dial out manually.”

“Like on Ernest’s planet,” Daniel said.

“There wasn’t any reserve power there. You were off busy seeking the meaning of life while we all had to juice the thing up.” O’Neill started pacing.

Sam raised her eyebrows at the jab aimed toward Daniel, and had to admit he was right about the ‘gate. They had no guarantee they’d be able to dial out.

“We do what Carter said first, and look for the DHD. It’s not like we don’t have time to search the vicinity of the Stargate on this veritable oasis of a planet.”

Veritable? Not a huge linguistic stretch of vocabulary, but the usage certainly made her think her CO wasn’t as dim as he’d like people to believe. And, again, she had to admit he had a valid point—they could all work on their tans while they conducted their search. Sam knew she wouldn’t complain if they ended up having to spend a little time here.

“We’ve just won five days and four nights in sunny Puerto Vallarta?” She could stand to work on her game show announcer voice, judging from the strange looks that got her. “Er.”

“Yeah, Carter.”

O’Neill’s expression was now wary, as if he expected a second head to grow on her shoulder. She didn’t see why he was the only one who could have a sense of humor.

“But without the gourmet meals.”

“Oh,” Daniel said. “No MREs.”

If only they knew then what they knew now. Wasn’t that how the expression went? Chances were they would still have given their food and blankets and water purification tablets and canteens … oh, crap, this could be bad. Sam looked at Daniel, who was looking at his feet. She could see why he might think this was his fault, somehow, but it simply wasn’t. The point might not even be an important one. They could find the DHD right away and be back at the SGC in a matter of minutes. She glanced at the dense underbrush and didn’t think she was going to be right on that count.

“We won’t need them.” Sam smiled. False confidence was still confidence, sort of. Right?

“All right,” the colonel said. “Carter, Teal’c, take south of the gate.”

“Jack, the DHD is never off to the side somewhere. Shouldn’t we search the beach?”

“Oh, yes, Daniel. We will search the beach. That’s our job.”

She and Teal’c got to root around in the thick tangle of plants while the colonel and Daniel frolicked on the beach. In her way of reasoning, that was unfair. Sam eyed her search partner, who was taking off his backpack, vest and jacket and exposing ample biceps in the process. She changed her mind. Not so unfair after all. She thought she just realized another reason why Teal’c was starting to grow on her. If she was going to get all sweaty in the underbrush, at least she had him to look at.

“Great.” Daniel started removing excess clothing as well, and so did the colonel.

Sam decided they could be stranded here for a good long while and it wouldn’t bother her a bit. She never would have guessed Daniel had muscle, but she caught a glimpse of decently toned arms when his shirtsleeves rode up a little. And the colonel wasn’t bad to look at either. No wonder other females at the SGC gave her dirty looks all the time. Not that she’d ever do anything but admire. Admiration was nice and safe.

“We’ll probably need to dig,” Daniel said.

O’Neill adopted a horrified expression, which lasted a millisecond before he schooled it into bored indifference.

Sam grinned, turning away quickly so her CO wouldn’t see that she had glimpsed his comprehension. There was a lot of sand. She lost her smile when she considered Daniel and O’Neill would still be digging long after she and Teal’c finished their search, and that she’d be digging right alongside them.

“I’ll keep an eye out for signs of sentient life,” the colonel said, walking a few steps closer to the lapping waves. “We could be on a world populated with those fish people.”

“To whom do you refer?”

“Nem?”

Daniel and Teal’c spoke almost in sync. Daniel appeared startled by it, and Teal’c just raised his eyebrow. Actually, Daniel looked a little peaked and pale. He often looked pained around Teal’c, though she doubted he realized it. It couldn’t be easy, Sam thought, to work side by side with one of the people responsible for the abduction and Goa’uld implantation of a loved one. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to handle it quite as well as Daniel did every day.

“Yeah, that guy.”

“You don’t think…wait a minute,” Daniel said. He wavered on his feet again, and Sam narrowed her eyes. He’d been upright for a while, he shouldn’t be having difficulty keeping balance anymore. “Are you really going to make me do this by myself while you stare at the water?”

“Consider it strength training.” O’Neill turned to give Daniel a quick smirk, then did a double take.

Sam followed his gaze back to Daniel, who actually managed to look more tired than he had mere seconds ago.

The colonel frowned and said, “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I could use some exercise myself.”

“Yes.” Daniel smiled a little uncertainly, but it did make him seem slightly less drawn. “I’ve heard that staying in shape becomes more difficult past a certain age.”

Damn, Sam wished she could speak to the colonel like that—flippant and relaxed. She let out a small chuckle as she shucked her own jacket. O’Neill spluttered something in reply, but she was busy eyeing the plant life she was about to come up and close and personal with. She put the jacket back on. Teal’c might have a built-in boosted immune system, but she didn’t. It could easily be a patch of alien poison ivy for all she knew.

The bird in the trees shrieked again, joined by a number of others. A flutter of activity drew her attention upward in time to see several gigantic creatures launching into the air. They flew with fluid grace and beauty, and for a moment she was captivated by how something so seemingly commonplace could be so unfamiliar at the same time. The ‘birds’ didn’t have feathers as far as she could see, and their beaks were long and powerful. Even from her vantage point fifty feet below, she could see ridged protrusions jutting out from their crowns. They looked … they didn’t look like birds, exactly.

Sam felt Teal’c move by her and she looked back down. She was apparently the only one looking up. The colonel and Daniel were already busy studiously checking the area of the beach where the DHD would logically be, based on previous experiences. Tossing one last fleeting look aloft, she then joined Teal’c. They weren’t going to find the DHD where they were searching, she thought, but she could do a cursory survey of what natural resources they could glean if they had to. If the DHD was buried it was still going to take time to dig it out. She looked up again, staring at the suns’ filtered rays.

“Teal’c, do you know if solar energy could charge a Stargate if it was exposed long enough?”

“I believe it cannot,” he said. “My knowledge, however, is limited. The Goa’uld were careful to do nothing that might encourage questions among the ranks of Jaffa.”

“And that included revealing the technology, because if you knew it was all explainable you wouldn’t believe in them anymore.”

“Much like Tau’ri children eventually learn there is no such thing as Santa Claus.”

“Yes,” Sam said with surprise. “How did you know about that?”

“I read extensively.”

She wished they had the same luxury with Teal’c's culture. As it was they usually didn’t get information from him until any given Goa’uld issue was quite imminent. Sam didn’t know how her commanding officers managed to be okay with such a convenient, limited exchange of information. She didn’t expect Teal’c to sit down and write The Manual to All Things Goa’uld for them, but he could share a bit more openly. But that was neither here nor there.

“I suppose you have to have something do to while we’re not on missions.”

“Indeed.”

Teal’c parted various clumps of greenery, but it was as she suspected—the DHD was not there. Actually, if they had found it here, it would have been a bad, bad thing. The only way she could imagine it situated over here was if it had been disconnected somehow and moved, therefore rendered useless. She watched Teal’c for any adverse reactions to the plants, but he didn’t demonstrate any. Even with a symbiote helping him, he probably would have some type of initial reaction. She thought. Maybe.

“Skin contact does not appear harmful, Captain Carter.”

Nonplussed, Sam glanced at Teal’c. Her face must have given her trepidation away, because he’d sussed out her thoughts easily. He tipped his head at her. She reached out and swept her hand against a hanging vine. So far so good, no reaction, but there had better not be a delayed reaction. She’d had a bad run-in with poison oak as a kid and did not ever want a repeat of that experience. She peeked over at Teal’c with a smile.

“That’s good. At least we’ll have a natural resource for toilet paper if we’re here long enough to need it.”

“Indeed,” he said. “It is fortuitous.”

Sam swore she saw the beginnings of an answering smile.

She grinned back. It was warm back here, any breeze from the ocean or lake or sea or whatever not making it through the thick foliage. Deeming it safe enough and dispelling with her paranoia surrounding the plant life, Sam eased out of her jacket. She felt about ten degrees cooler instantly.

“I suppose we should go help Daniel and the colonel dig holes on the beach.”

“Would it not be a wise idea to further explore the topography of this world, Captain Carter? As O’Neill suggested, there may indeed be sentient life forms present.”

“Stands to reason, Teal’c.” Sam nodded to herself. She did not relish the thought of digging holes, and if they were here they might as well gain some intel. They could even find something of use here, and then their casting off here would have yet another bonus. “I mean, we were sent here, right? Someone else might have been.”

“I do not believe beings will come from the sea as O’Neill suggested. We should determine if there is more than fowl here, and also what level of threat any life form could be.”

See? Teal’c was very pragmatic and helpful. Sam hoped she could maintain a comfort level with him so that if he had suggestions he wouldn’t hesitate to give them without prompting. Something told her it wouldn’t be that easy. Easy was not a word she’d use to describe any facet of Teal’c that she had seen so far. From what she could tell, he was a warrior first, friend a very distant second and his barriers were solid.

“I think you’re right. We should probably let the others know, though.” She touched a hand to her radio, then dropped it. “After we’ve gone further inland.”

Teal’c gave her another almost-smile. She figured it would be harder for the colonel to say no if they were already doing reconnaissance. That was a handy trick she learned from Daniel, even if the instruction was unintentional on his part. She gave Teal’c point, getting her weapon at the ready.

They made it about one hundred, uneventful steps.

“Carter, Teal’c!”

The colonel hadn’t even used his radio, bellowing loudly instead. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded panicked. Sam moved without thinking, running back toward the beach. Teal’c started out behind her, but quickly sped past her.

“Carter!”

She sped up, heart racing from more than the exertion. She didn’t know why the colonel hadn’t used his radio and tried to tell herself it was because he assumed she and Teal’c were nearer than they were. Sam broke through the foliage only a second behind Teal’c and saw the colonel kneeling over Daniel, who was in a graceless sprawl and clearly unconscious.

“Sir, what happened?” she said as she slid to her knees next to the colonel. “Daniel?”

“I don’t know. I was facing the other direction. I asked him a question and when he didn’t answer, I turned around and there he was.”

It probably wasn’t a normal faint. Most people who pass out start regaining some sort of consciousness the moment they hit the ground. Daniel wasn’t moving at all, and his face was a terrible shade of gray. Sam lifted her MP-5 over her head, putting it aside and out of her way. She leaned close to Daniel in an attempt to gain more than a visual assessment. There were no obvious signs of injury. She started at the head, running her fingers along Daniel’s scalp.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” the colonel said, more to himself than to her, Sam thought. “I would have heard if something attacked him, right, and they wouldn’t have just singled him out.”

“No head trauma.” Sam frowned. “Sir, look at the bruises on his arms. They’re just forming.”

“Bruises on his arms wouldn’t make him pass out, Carter.”

“I know that, sir.” She was embarrassed about mentioning them, but so far it was the only physical ailment she had detected. She shook her head and continued her evaluation. There was nothing noticeable with Daniel’s neck, torso or legs. “Whatever this is, it’s not from an injury.”

“He’s sick?”

O’Neill scowled when she shrugged and put her hand on Daniel’s forehead. He was a little warm to the touch, but they were in a pretty warm climate now and not dressed for it. They all probably felt warm.

“Daniel Jackson did appear unwell.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Sam said, leaving her hand where it was. Daniel’s hair was damp. She brushed what stuck to his temples back absently. “He looked tired, unsteady on his feet.”

“So, what? He just fell asleep?”

The subject in question moaned and shifted under her touch. Daniel started moving his hands in a bare, haphazard rhythm. His fingers lifted up off the ground and went back down, up and down. Sam gave her attention to his face for indications he was waking up, but his eyes remained closed. His glasses were askew. She removed her hand from his forehead to ease the frames off his face. Even that didn’t rouse him into consciousness, though his hands raised higher and his legs moved.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Her exasperation manifested itself in a snappish tone. He couldn’t really expect an answer. “We might not know until Daniel wakes up.”

“Whenever that’ll be,” the colonel said, sounding for all the world like he was angry.

Which was how Sam knew he was really worried.

It was strange. Daniel couldn’t recognize the noise he heard far off in the distance, but he knew what it was. That didn’t make sense. His head, his head. His head felt funny. Shup-pish. Shup-pish. Sharp sound tapering off into something softer, less defined, and it seemed to be getting louder. Closer? Something. He concentrated, trying to pinpoint the exact noise. Name that tune. He twitched his fingers. Sand. It occurred to him maybe he should be worried that he didn’t know where he was as much, if not more, than figuring out the cause of the odd sound.

“Sir, I think he’s waking up.”

Sam? Oh, good, Sam was here at least, and Jack. The shup-pishing stopped, replaced by phut-phutting. There was a regular old big band playing in his head, but there was no discernable song. The strange racket kind of made him sick to his stomach. Sick, sick. His skin felt hot. He had no idea why. Tiny pellets of sand sprinkled against his right hand and arm, and he noticed the phut-phut stopped.

“Daniel?”

Digging. He and Jack were supposed to be digging in the sand for the DHD. Shup-pish was a shovel or something. So Jack was digging and he was lying in the sand instead. That didn’t seem right.

“Hey, Daniel?”

Without digging, we’ll never find the DHD, Daniel said, or at least meant to. Jack didn’t comment, which wasn’t very like Jack at all, so Daniel wondered if he had actually spoken out loud. Small steps—open eyes first, talk later. He’d really rather not, he decided. His eyes were just fine in their closed state.

“Are you sure? He doesn’t look any different than the last five times you thought he was waking up.”

Five times. Wow, that seemed like a lot. If Jack abandoned digging each time … Daniel’s head swam. Because he was apparently unwell. He’d figured that out already. He thought he had, anyway. He really couldn’t recall.

“Hey … Daniel?”

Okay. He still didn’t want to, but Jack seemed insistent and Sam worried. He tried. His eyelids didn’t move, feeling stuck together with adhesive. The effort made his head go from feeling funny to hurting. He moaned in discomfort but was also pleased his voice box worked.

“Heard that,” Jack said.

Something cool brushed across his forehead, stronger than a breeze. He was so warm, he realized. He leaned into the coolness, but it didn’t last. Disappointment shot through him, along with a deeper flush of heat. He focused on opening his eyes again, succeeding enough to see a sliver of light and a peach blob above him.

“There he is. Daniel?”

That was about the twentieth time Jack had said his name, an occurrence which alone made him nervous. People didn’t repeat names often during the course of a conversation, although this couldn’t be said to be a conversation.

“Stay with us now, Daniel.”

Daniel opened his eyes wider, feeling better once doing so but not by much. The last thing he remembered he had been staring down at the sand and wondering how he could see the individual grains from a standing position. That and the terrible disturbance the bird-things were making up in the trees. It was all coming back to him … he hadn’t been standing. He had seen the individual grains of sand only after faceplanting into it.

“Okay,” Daniel said. This time he actually made sound, even if it wasn’t entirely understandable as speech. His mouth felt as though he had slept with a wad of cotton batting in it. “Okay.”

“Here, sip some water,” said the peach blob, which turned out to be Sam.

His eyes were almost as fuzzy as his mouth and, coupled with his slight correction or lack thereof, really impaired his vision. The proffered canteen tipped up. Water dribbled down his chin.

“Sorry,” Sam said.

The water felt good. He licked his lips. The small amount of moisture that had made it onto them helped a lot. Daniel cleared his throat and lifted his head to check out his surroundings. He managed to see he was under the shelter of a lean-to, and then the semi-cool thing on his forehead increased in pressure, pushing him back down to the ground. He protested with a grunt. He felt much better already, only a few minutes after waking up.

“You should take it easy.” It was cloth—a bandana—on his head. Sam took it away for a moment, returning it wet and cool again. “You’ve been out of it for five hours, Daniel.”

“I’m fine … I think.”

“You’ve been feverish and unconscious for…”

“Five hours,” Daniel said. He coughed. Could use more water. “I heard that. I’m feeling much better.”

“Better than when? You’ve been senseless for…”

“Five hours.” This was getting old. The clearer his head became, the more annoying the circular conversation got. “Better than when I first woke up.”

“Two minutes ago.”

“Yes. What, uhm, what happened?”

Sam leaned closer, looking into his eyes. She seemed puzzled. Her hand went to his hair, fingers running through it as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. To his recollection, she had never done that with him. Unless, of course, that was how she had spent the past several hours.

“We were hoping you could tell us.”

“You passed out,” Jack said, poking his head next to Sam’s. Light colored dust covered Jack’s face, settling most thickly on his nose. “When did you start feeling sick?”

Daniel moved his head, evading Sam’s touch. She pulled away like she just realized what she was doing. If he thought about it, it was a little worrisome that he couldn’t remember feeling poorly. Or the beginning of feeling poorly, he corrected. While he might sense a slight improvement, he had to admit he felt pretty crappy.

“I don’t know that I did, exactly.”

“How do you feel now?”

It wouldn’t pay to downplay, he could tell that just by the expressions Jack and Sam wore. Daniel took a mental tally, and found he wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question.

“Strange,” he said.

“Strange how?” Jack swiped at his forehead, smearing the dust off. “Daniel, you have to help us out here.”

“Achy. Uhm…” He blinked and wanted to keep his eyes shut. So he did. “Tired. My skin hurts.”

“So, you passed out because you have the flu?”

“Sir.”

“Well, it sounds like he has the flu.”

Shup-pish. Shup-pish. The sound was back. Daniel might have been wrong in thinking it was the sound of shoveling. Maybe it was just his head, which ached more acutely again. Feeling better was apparently temporary or some sort of illusion or both of those options.

“Sir, the flu doesn’t knock a person off his feet so quickly. It takes days.”

“I was just sayin’.”

“Ahm,” Daniel said to stop their tangential conversation. They stopped the inanity, but then he couldn’t remember what it was he was going to say. “Ahm.”

“Daniel?”

“Mmm?”

“Daniel,” Sam said, “You have to try to stay awake.” Rustling cloth, softly crunching sand close to him. Sam sounded like she was talking through a tube. “This is not the flu, sir. Damnit.”

“What?”

“I think his temperature is rising again.”

Hot. Fever? That explained a lot but nothing. Daniel felt terrible. Worse than terrible, though he wasn’t sure what to call that. Confused. Fuzzy. He tried to talk but just ended up sounding like a bagpipe in the hands of an amateur, at least to himself.

“If we don’t start getting fluids in him…”

“I know, Carter,” Jack said, and unlike Sam’s, his voice was clear in Daniel’s ears despite the words being spoken very softly.

Daniel noticed for the first time that there was pressure on his right forearm. It felt like a hand. He somehow knew it was Jack’s hand. Oh, this was bad, then.

“I know he doesn’t have the flu and I know he needs to keep hydrated.”

Jack was concerned, and Daniel felt bad about that. He was okay, just tired. He opened his eyes again. The fever explained why his head was off. He always got a little thick when sick. Lyrical, too, apparently. Thick when sick, thick when sick. It was his new mantra. He rhymed.

“I’m awake. I can hear you,” Daniel said. “Thick when sick.”

Jack and Sam’s faces appeared above him, simultaneous and sudden. The expressions they bore were comical to him, in a somewhat inappropriate way. They looked so stunned he had to laugh. Thick when sick. Something wasn’t right.

“Hey, where’s Teal’c?” he said.

“What does thick when sick mean?” Sam frowned at him.

Daniel heard a maraca shaking out a terrible rhythm. The shup-pishing continued in the distance, and Daniel was reminded of a band again. Mariachi this time.

“Here, take these. They’ll help keep your fever in check.”

The maraca stopped with one final, big shake. Sam slipped something onto his lips. Pills. They were bitter and he didn’t want to take them into his mouth, but he figured Sam knew what she was talking about. Daniel opened up and the bitterness increased as the tablets dissolved until the canteen was tipped to his lips and he swallowed the tablets down. The water felt cool against his throat.

“Head thick.” His arm was floppy as he lifted it and waggled his hand by his head once. His arm fell back down to the ground at an awkward angle. “It’s hard to, ah, hard to think.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel, but I have to ask this. Do you remember touching anything here? Or did you smell something, maybe?”

“Nothing.” He hadn’t even stopped to smell the flowers. Not that he could, because he hadn’t seen any. Not that he would because flowers usually made him sneeze and he didn’t make it a habit to do things that would make him miserable. Shup-pish. Teal’c. Shup-pish. Teal’c was still digging, that’s where he was. “Found the DHD?”

“Yeah. So you didn’t touch anything?” Jack didn’t look like he believed him. C’est la vie. “Nothing at all.”

“Right.” Daniel closed his eyes. They felt hot inside his skull, like they were melting into thick jelly. Thick when sick. “Good.”

“Not that good. Sir, I think we’re losing him again.”

Sam shouldn’t talk with a hand over her mouth. He was pretty sure he was tired. Exhausted. Couldn’t possibly get enough sleep. Daniel didn’t know that his head felt thick so much as it was floaty. He was getting dizzy and he just wanted it to stop.

“Teal’c, tell me you’ve got that thing uncov…”

Ghosts and Coffee Cups
by Carrie

He couldn’t believe his ears. Jack openly gawked at General Hammond for a full minute, glad they had moved into the privacy of his CO’s office after the down and dirty briefing. No doubt he looked like a complete fool, and was quite certain he’d looked like that too often the past couple of days. Enough to last him a good year. The longer he stood there dumbfounded, the more he couldn’t believe it.

“What? You what, sir?”

“Colonel, were you in my shoes you would have done the same.”

“No. See, I wouldn’t have. In fact, I didn’t, if you’ll recall. When we bugged out of there, his belongings were mostly intact and right where they should be.”

“Need I remind you to whom you are speaking, Colonel?”

Jack knew he was pushing the insubordination envelope, but his ire just wouldn’t subside. There was no way he was going to let Daniel stay in the infirmary—it was too sterile, and too similar to the lab of which he himself was beginning to have more intense flashbacks. Nope. No matter what Doctor Fraiser said, the civilian member of his team would not be confined. But now, goddamnit, he couldn’t even go to his own home. Scrubbing his hands down his face, Jack blew out a long breath.

“No, sir. It’s just that…it’s just…” he fumbled for the words, tongue refusing to cooperate.

“It’s all right, Jack. I’ll send a crew over to Doctor Jackson’s apartment tomorrow to rectify the situation. It shouldn’t take them more than a day.” The general’s expression softened as Jack began to protest, a hand waving in the air. “I’ll make sure it’s the same group I sent earlier. They’ll know where everything goes.”

“Yes, sir,” Jack murmured, shoulders slumping a bit as he jammed his hands into his pockets. “I guess I’ll take Daniel home with me in the meantime. I don’t like the idea of him being alone right now, and I’ll be damned if I spend a night in the infirmary just to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

He hoped his caving was taken for what it was—a means to get his way. If he thought much about it, which he refused to do, he knew his brain would supply the fact that he didn’t want to be alone any more than he wanted Daniel to be. Hammond’s face remained compassionate, the exact expression he’d sported when convincing Jack that destroying things or retiring wasn’t going to alleviate any of the pain. It had worked before, and it worked now, subduing him to the point he nearly sat down. Beneath the appraisal, the general knew precisely what he was feeling. How disturbing.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’m going to put SG1 on stand down for a week—you’re all going to need a little recovery time. Why don’t you go to the infirmary, check on Doctor Jackson? I’ll inform Doctor Fraiser that unless his condition absolutely warrants an overnight stay, he should be released to your care.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jack said softly, glad that was not a battle he’d have to deal with. He had all the respect in the world for the SGC’s Chief Medical Officer, but he could just tell she’d wield her power a little too heavily for his tastes. “I’ll let Captain Carter and Teal’c know of our status.”

Leaving the office, he realized how mentally and physically exhausted he was. It shouldn’t have come as a great shock; sleepless nights spent thinking about the relevance of his—or anyone’s—life in the universe usually took quite a toll. Grim hours of depression so deep it had taken him utterly by surprise. He was trying to convince himself he was simply a commanding officer suffering the usual guilt and anger at losing a member of the team. But he hadn’t lost anyone, he reminded himself again.

Jack loped through the corridors with forced nonchalance, trying to disguise the urgency with which his legs wanted to reach the infirmary. Passersby all favored him with huge smiles where only hours before there had been sympathetic frowns. Oddly, the former were as nauseating as the latter had been; seeming misplaced and inappropriate. It was stupid to think that way, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. He managed to grimace out returning smiles to each of them, unconsciously increasing his pace.

Carter and Teal’c stood outside the infirmary, both surreptitiously peering to watch the activity within. He was so right about Fraiser and her medical prerogative bully tactics, a thought lessened only by the unexpected flare of warmth he felt for his team. In the time they’d been together, they’d managed to solidify a bond so tight only death could break it. Only death…God. Both of his team members had dealt with the loss of Daniel so much better than he. Jack didn’t want to face the implications of that, attempted to shove them aside with any diversion. Deep within himself, he knew it was a delay tactic and nothing more.

“How’s he doing?” he called in greeting.

“Doctor Fraiser won’t let us in,” his 2IC answered with a scowl. “Said he had a king-sized headache, though.”

“I can imagine he would.”

He kept his face and tone non-committal, though both the captain and the Jaffa had already seen his distress over and over again. As long as he could use the post-traumatic stress excuse, he was going to. Bad enough he was starting to suspect he was going soft; the last thing he wanted or needed was for his subordinates to reach the same conclusion. A person couldn’t really command if feelings got in the way. Unfortunately for him, once someone got past his wall he had a hard time shoving them back out. And all three of his team members had either breached it or were coming dangerously close. Shit, he was in trouble.

“Sir, just having our minds altered slightly…” Carter swallowed heavily before she could continue. “…caused extreme discomfort. What Daniel said he underwent sounds much more severe.”

“Thank you, Carter. I really didn’t want to hear that.”

“Daniel Jackson is strong,” Teal’c broke his silence, surprise tinting his tone. “He will be well.”

Jumping at the deep rumbling voice, Jack turned to stare at the source. He narrowed his eyes, at a loss as to how to interpret the non-expression solidifying Teal’c's face into a nearly unreadable mask. It looked hard; unfeeling. There was something deep, though, lurking behind the stoicism. With sureness, he understood the mysterious alien was doing precisely what he was—hiding what could be perceived as weakness away from outsiders. The sense of kinship grew, and he hoped one day he would be able to call Teal’c friend without hesitation.

“I’m sure he will be.”

Though the words were spoken with confidence, he could discern a slight tremble in Captain Carter’s voice. Not too many months ago, Jack might have dismissed the detectable show of emotion as resulting from her definite femininity, but he had seen her perform admirably on countless occasions, a soldier through and through. Besides, how could he fault her for discernibly exhibiting what had roiled though him for days? He was many different things to many different people, but one thing he was not was a hypocrite.

“Of course he will,” Jack casually said, shuffling his feet. “I just got done speaking with General Hammond. Apparently he had Daniel’s apartment cleaned out before McKenzie futzed with your brain, Carter, so I’m going to take him home with me until he can go to his own place. We’re on stand down for a week.”

Carter nodded, chewing on her lower lip. She looked relieved to have some time off, and he admitted to himself that he wasn’t all that anxious to go off world soon either. The false memory flashes had subsided a bit since discovering Daniel alive, but they still haunted him every once in a while. Not that he’d tell Fraiser that. An unbidden shudder shook through him as he wondered if the flashbacks were the real reason he hadn’t been sleeping. Having them in the broad light of day was bad enough, but in nightmares they’d only intensify.

“You want any company, sir?”

“Not tonight. I have a feeling Daniel’s just going to sleep for a long, long time. Hammond said his place will be done the day after tomorrow, anyway. I’m sure he’ll just head there for the rest of the week.”

They fell into silence, keeping their vigil in the hallway. Jack became more and more anxious. What was taking so long? Was something really wrong with Daniel? He had looked really peaked in the fluorescent lighting of the ‘gateroom. Fraiser would come out and tell them right away if something was wrong, wouldn’t she? Jack stuffed suddenly clammy hands into his pockets, shifting to lean against the wall. He was losing it again. He had to get control, and fast, before he had another embarrassing blow up. But he swore if the doctor didn’t get her butt out here in…

“Good, you’re all here. I’ve finished my examination of Doctor Jackson.”

He straightened at her coincidental appearance, and at the pause in her speech. Moving to join Carter and Teal’c in front of Doctor Fraiser, he studied her face and stance. She was unblinking and somber, lines of fatigue creasing the corners of her eyes. Jack’s stomach clenched into a leaden ball. The seconds dragged as she looked at each of them in turn, her expression washing with realization followed by a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry. He’s fine, aside from a pounding headache, exhaustion and being at the early stages of dehydration. One night in the infirmary should be sufficient.”

Opening his mouth to smugly tell her of General Hammond’s decree, Jack was beaten to the punch by Carter, who blurted, “Can we see him?

“Of course. Follow me.”

Mouth still gaping, Jack soundlessly fell into step next to his teammates. He was sorely disappointed in the general for chickening out on him. Daniel’s condition sure as heck didn’t sound so bad he had to stay on base. Sighing with gladness at that, and at weariness of the battle he was about to enter, he stared at the back of Fraiser’s head, plotting his first maneuver. And came up empty as they approached the sole occupant of the infirmary.

Tucked firmly, some might say snugly, in a bed, Daniel Jackson was propped up. His eyelids were drooping heavily, fighting gravity. Damp tendrils of too-long hair clung to the sides of his face, tousled and uncombed. All of the worry of the previous days miraculously disappeared, a smile plastering Jack’s face. This was real, not some illusion taunting him. He broke stride with his companions, reaching the bed first and laying a hand on the younger man’s bare forearm. Reluctant, fluttering eyes rose, gaze blurry with tiredness.

“Hey, Daniel. Hear you checked out okay.”

“Yeah, Doctor Fraiser’s going to keep me overnight, though.” Daniel slurred slightly, the effect of losing every scrap of adrenaline after days of running on nerves alone.

“No.”

“No?” Daniel, Carter and Fraiser all simultaneously asked; Teal’c tilted his head.

“That’s what I said. No. No way. As in: not going to happen,” Jack practically chanted, inserting as much ‘don’t even bother ‘cuz I’m going to win’ into his tone as he could.

The good doctor looked downright peeved, eyes alternating between popping out and narrowing suspiciously. He smirked and watched her face transform into a determined mask, knowing he was going to get an earful of how her authority outweighed his in medical situations. Stopping her before she started Jack raised his right hand in the air, index finger wagging.

“C’mon, Doc. Are you telling me he really needs to stay here, just because of a little headache?”

“Little?” Daniel weakly asked, though Jack saw him perking up at the possibility of release.

“Okay, big. But not that big, right, Daniel?” He was leading the witness, and not ashamed at the ploy.

“Right. Actually, now that you mention it, I think it’s going away altogether.”

“Doctor Jackson, you just told me it was an eight on a scale of ten,” Fraiser finally edged into the conversation, hands fluttering in agitation. “Now, I will not be intimidated into releasing you.”

As if to prove her point, she began lowering the head of Daniel’s bed. She only got halfway done when the infirmary phone rang. Jack eyed it, willing it to be the general on the other end. The look on Fraiser’s face would be priceless; he’d cherish it for months. He mischievously checked out his team members, then tracked the doctor as she scurried to the phone.

“Doctor Fraiser… Yes, sir, I’ve just completed my examination,” she said into the mouthpiece, brow furrowing at him as the general spoke with her. “He’s going to be just fine, General. I’m having him…sir?”

Rocking back on his heels with a cocky tilt of his head, Jack tried not to gloat as her scowl deepened and she glared at him with fiery eyes. She abruptly turned away to face the wall instead. He heard her tone heighten, but caught only snatches of her side of the conversation. His smugness faded as he turned to see Daniel’s pale and exhausted face, a moment of doubt flickered in his mind over whether he was really motivated by what was best for the archaeologist.

“Well, Doctor Jackson. I have some good news for you. Based upon my findings, the general and I have agreed it’s not necessary for you to remain in the infirmary,” Doctor Fraiser announced briskly, rejoining them at Daniel’s bedside. “That being said, I still don’t feel it’s a good idea for you to be on your own quite yet.”

Biting down the humor of her attempt to take ownership of the decision, Jack added, “That’s where I come in. You’ll be coming home with me for the night, Daniel.”

He expected a surprised or even grateful response. What he got could not be described as either. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He couldn’t believe his ears. On the one hand, Daniel was relieved he wouldn’t be staying in the infirmary: after spending the better part of three days in unfamiliar and uncomfortable surroundings, all he wanted was to go home. Which, of course, brought him to the other hand: he wasn’t going to be going home. Staring at Jack, he wondered if there was some kind of conspiracy against him, led by the colonel himself.

“Nothing personal, but why can’t I just go home?” he managed to spit out, sounding petulant even to himself. “I really, really just want to go to my own apartment. Jack, you can stay with me there if you absolutely have to.”

His words garnered almost identical reactions from everyone but Teal’c, who simply looked more unapproachable than usual. Resounding silence hovered as he confusedly looked at his teammates and doctor, watching their faces tighten uncomfortably. They looked like they’d just swallowed a mouthful of ipecac and were about to be massively, violently ill. Whatever he’d said, he guessed it was the wrong thing.

Fuelled by the raging pain in his head and days of no sleep, he just kept barreling on. “What? Is there a problem?”

Instead of addressing him, Jack stiffly turned to the others. Daniel could barely make out the softly spoken message. “Look, why don’t you guys take off. I’ll wait for him to get ready, then we’ll go.”

Daniel bristled, back muscles tensing at his seeming lack of choice in the matter. Moreover, the lack of a reason for it. Headache increasing, he savagely rubbed his temples. What the hell was going on? He didn’t think it was too much to ask for a recently resurrected man to have his wishes met. Not that he didn’t understand the reason for forced company. Actually, he didn’t particularly want to be alone anyway. He just didn’t think it was necessary for him to be dragged to Jack’s house when his own home was perfectly suitable.

“Am I talking to myself here? Hello?”

Sam moved toward him, regret making her eyes midnight blue, haunted. He instantly softened, confusion over the inexplicability of everyone’s behavior replaced with concern for her. They hadn’t known each other that long, but he’d seen only cool professionalism exude from her. No, he amended, that wasn’t true. She was a scientist—excitement and wonder over discovery had been the strongest emotions she’d exhibited. To see fear in her expression was unexpected, leaving him puzzled and guilty, as he was apparently the cause.

“Glad you’re back, Daniel,” she whispered, sandwiching his left hand in between both of hers, squeezing tightly.

He suddenly had no clue what to say, so he slumped back into the pillow and tried to tell her everything was okay by returning her gaze with a smile as he fumbled to rest his other hand on top of the existing embrace, squeezing right back. She withdrew after too short a time, stepping back from the bed. An eerie feeling started sweeping over him, vague and startling.

Behind her, Teal’c bowed his head, still not uttering a word. Daniel admitted he was still coming to grips with how to approach and work with the Jaffa. Usually he could look beyond his teammate’s involvement in Sha’re’s fate, but every once in while a surge of all too human resentment built up. It wasn’t fair, and he knew it. Teal’c had demonstrated nothing but good will toward him. He caught dark eyes as the bald head came back up, and found them unguardedly showing the same ghost of fear Sam’s held. Knitting his eyebrows, he nodded back.

No one spoke. The longer the silence, the more Daniel’s irritation lessened. Up until his little, already embarrassing outburst, everyone had kept the mood light—joking, even—regarding his return. He’d assumed that meant they all had dealt with whatever demons they had, and were ready to move on. That assumption was obviously a mistake, and he decided not to question the motivation behind their insistence that he not go home. They’d tell him eventually. When they were ready. Hopefully by then he’d be ready to hear it. Looking to Jack, he nodded his belated acceptance. The colonel looked away.

“Colonel O’Neill, if Doctor Jackson is going to be with you for the next twelve or so hours, then there are some things you should be made aware of. Though there appear to be no lasting effects from the mind probe, I want you to bring him back should the headache increase or he becomes nauseated. No caffeine. No alcohol. No solid food for at least a day. Lots of rest. I want to see him here two days from now for another checkup. Everything clear?” Doctor Fraiser briskly imparted the orders, each one making his release seem more like house arrest than a good thing. He knew better than to object to any of the stipulations as she turned on him. “And you, Doctor Jackson, will follow each of those directives to a tee, along with ensuring the colonel adheres to his end of the bargain. I don’t want any ‘but he made me’ excuses in the event I see you back here sooner rather than later. I’m not opposed to saying ‘I told you so.’ ”

With that, she spun on her heels and clipped away. Daniel wasn’t sure whom it came from, but he was positive he heard a breathed ‘Whoa!’ following the departing figure. He couldn’t agree more. Doctor Fraiser was quickly establishing she was not someone to mess with. He remained still for a moment, uncertain what the next step was going to bring. Looking at the grim faces still surrounding him, his unease grew. He must have faded out at some point during the briefing, because he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was bothering them so much.

“Daniel, we’re not trying to be overbearing. We’re really not,” Sam softly said, studying his face as though he were about to disappear. “Remember we’ve spent the last three days thinking you dead.”

God, he was stupid. Of course that was what each of them was struggling to cope with. He’d had three days of mostly solitary confinement, all the while knowing they were fine. They had had the extreme opposite. It shook him to think his death had impacted them so much, then realized that if he lost any of them he would be just as shell shocked. He should not have needed the reminder. He looked away from Sam’s intense stare, ashamed he’d been so blind. His face must have reflected his dawning perception because suddenly she was in his line of sight again.

“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbled, not really knowing what to say to help them. He examined the coarse woolen blanket covering his lap as if it were the most fascinating artifact he’d ever seen. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t apologize, Daniel. It’s been an interesting week,” Jack gruffly dismissed, clearing his throat. He repeated his earlier mandate, “Carter, Teal’c, why don’t you to head out? I’ll call you if Daniel and I get lonely.”

“Actually, I’m so tired I’m not going to be much company. I wouldn’t mind if we all got together tomorrow, though,” Daniel shyly suggested, finally glancing up to find them relaxing a little.

“Sounds good. You guys have a good night,” Sam called, tugging on Teal’c's arm.

The pair left the infirmary, shooting worried looks back at him. Left alone with Jack, silence once again surrounded him. Tearing his eyes away from his teammates’ departing forms, Daniel switched back to the colonel, hoping for continued quiet and at the same time wanting to talk. He blinked slowly as Jack moved away, heading for the linen closet to withdraw a pair of navy sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Here. I’m going to go scrounge up something for your feet. Think you can be dressed by the time I get back?”

Irritation swelled again. Did Jack think he was three years old or something? Of course he could get dressed. Glaring at the colonel, Daniel was taken aback to find stark concern lining his face. Stuffing the annoyance away, he chided himself for letting it get the better of him again. He confidently swung his legs over the side of the bed and nodded. His new clothes landed on the bed with a soft thump, and he snagged the pants. As he bent over, he heard the footsteps fading away.

He was alone again. The hush of the barren room was now strange to his ears, almost suffocating. Pulling first one leg, then the other into the pants, he tentatively eased off the bed. His muscles were suddenly starting to turn into cooked spaghetti, uncooperative and limp. With a jerk, he hoisted the pants over his butt and sank back onto the bed, lying down on it crossways. He briefly closed his eyes, head pounding from the slight exertion. He thought maybe he should just stay here tonight after all.

“Hey, you all right?”

Starting as violently as malleable muscles would allow, Daniel opened his eyes to find Jack’s face hovering above him. Dark brown eyes anxiously searched his face, skittering away to do a rapid check on the rest of his body. He sat up, rubbing his forehead before running his hand through his hair.

“Daniel? Should I get Doctor Fraiser?”

Whoa. He must really look bad. Jack’s opinion of the petite medical officer was decidedly unfavorable, at least insomuch as he’d been able to determine from previous dealings. If the colonel was actually volunteering to get her…suddenly he knew the last place Jack needed him to be was in the infirmary. Call it gut instinct, but Daniel was positive if he stayed here tonight, his team leader wouldn’t be happy.

“No, I’m fine. Just tired. And hungry, I think. When I was in college, I used to forget to eat. My roommate freshman year swore he found me passed out on the floor at least three times a month,” Daniel ruefully said, surprised at his verbosity. He had no clue why he was sharing a trivial tidbit from his past; Jack didn’t care about that.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Jack scoffed, tossing a pair of boots at his feet.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d take offense at that.”

He suspiciously eyed the boots, struggling out of the hospital gown and into the fresh T-shirt. When he was fully dressed, he was going to look like a ragamuffin. Good thing he didn’t care about fashion. He looked down to find Jack at his feet, moving to shove them into the boots. A pang of embarrassment shot through him, but it quickly disappeared as he realized he’d probably just somersault right over if he bent down to put them on himself. He slumped back, bracing his hands behind him and letting Jack handle the task.

“All set?”

“Let’s go.” He nodded, lifting a weary arm for help up. “And Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I didn’t mean to be a pain in the butt before.”

“You weren’t, Daniel.”

“Right.”

To his surprise, Jack kept a strong hand on his forearm and guided him through the SGC corridors. An even greater surprise was the fact that he didn’t mind at all, finding the touch comforting. Maybe he wasn’t as adjusted from his recent imprisonment as he thought. He’d spent most of his life purposely on his own, not allowing many people in to his inner circle. If he were honest, he’d wanted to do the same after returning from Abydos, wanted to keep himself distant. To make the situation temporary, to hold onto the hope that he’d be with Sha’re soon. As the months passed, he’d slipped, letting his teammates become more than just that. More than random strangers who’d disappear after a short time. He missed Sha’re every moment of every day, but somehow his pain was made more bearable by the people surrounding him. People quickly becoming friends.

“Okay, watch your head.”

Huh? Daniel blinked in confusion, drawing himself out of a daze he didn’t know he’d gone into. They were standing in front of Jack’s truck, passenger door open. Hands guided him to climb into the cab, the door slamming behind him. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as Jack climbed behind the wheel.

“How ’bout we stop at the Dairy Queen for a malt? Beats soup, right?” Jack casually inquired.

Mmm. Ice cream. Daniel would do just about anything for some real food after the ‘nourishment’ Nem had provided, but if he couldn’t have a steak then ice cream would do just fine. He nodded, flashing Jack an appreciative smile.

“Coffee flavor?”

“Why not? How much caffeine could they really put in there?”

As they pulled away from Cheyenne Mountain, Daniel’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. Jack snorted once, and they fell into comfortable silence. He closed his eyes and let the humming of tires on pavement lull him into a sleepy haze.

“Whoa, slow down! You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Jack laughingly said as Daniel latched onto his malt with both hands, the spitting image of a five year old. Immediately after the words left his mouth, he flinched. What was he talking about? The guy already had a massive headache, one that Fraiser’s drugs didn’t seem to be helping—Daniel had fine creases of pain surrounding his eyes. “A worse one, I mean.”

“I’ll take this kind of headache on top of an existing one without complaint. I can’t believe how hungry I am!” Daniel carelessly tossed back, oblivious to Jack’s self-conscious concern.

The food certainly seemed to be giving the archaeologist a burst of energy, revitalizing him substantially. Jack wryly shot a sidelong glance at his passenger as they pulled into the driveway. For a while back in the infirmary, he’d almost changed his mind about bringing Daniel home with him; he’d looked about half a step away from being comatose. Jack’s whole body, heart included, had frozen when he’d come back to find the younger man sprawled atop the bed. Now, though, he was glad he hadn’t gone back on his internal promise. The company was welcome, as was the knowledge that knowing his teammate was safe under his roof meant he might get sleep himself.

“C’mon,” he called, switching off the engine and getting out of the vehicle. He paused to make sure he was being followed before sidling up the steps to his front door, waiting there for the lagging scientist. Daniel trudged up the walk, slurping the last bit of the ice cream. Jack shook his head and swung the door open. “I can’t believe you ate the whole thing already. You know where the garbage is.”

He followed Daniel in, nearly running into the younger man, who stood stock still in the foyer. Jack’s body did the tense freezing thing again at the sight before him. Oh, crap. His house was a mess, refuse from the wake scattered about, furniture moved to accommodate the crowd of people who’d attended. He closed his eyes, cursing his stupidity. Why hadn’t he taken Carter and Teal’c up on their offer to help him clean up?

It was a rhetorical question, even to himself. Knowing they were going to box up Daniel’s apartment the following day, removing every physical reminder of his teammate from the world, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to clean his house. Had thought if he left the beer bottles, the coffee cups, the leftover food out there would have remained a glimmer of memory. A glimmer of Daniel. It sounded foolish now, as it had been foolish then.

They seemed to stand quietly for a long time, Jack behind Daniel’s shoulder, just wordlessly taking in the almost grotesque scene. He heard the archaeologist swallow a couple of times, and knew he should say something. Attempt to give some kind of explanation. Instead, he simply took the empty malt cup out of loose fingers and moved into the kitchen. With more force than necessary, he yanked the cupboard door under the sink open and slammed the cup into the can. He leaned against the counter, arms bracing him, and stared at the aluminum basins. He hadn’t thought. He should have left Daniel in the infirmary.

“Sam mentioned something about a memorial service. I didn’t know you held it here.”

Daniel’s soft voice startled him, and he turned to find the younger man propped against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed protectively across his chest. Eyeing the pale face, Jack once again mentally kicked himself. He had just wanted to give the archaeologist a comfortable place to sleep. That’s all. And it had backfired on him. He still had no clue what to say, so he averted his eyes to the floor.

“It’s not a problem. More of a surprise, actually.”

“It wasn’t the memorial service. That was on base. This was…this was your wake, Daniel,” Jack suddenly blurted, words springing up from nowhere. They were stilted and wooden, but he couldn’t stop them from tumbling out. He didn’t even really want to be saying them. “You’d be amazed at how many people showed. House was packed…of course it would be. I didn’t mean to imply that—”

“W…wake? Jack, you’re rambling. I had a wake?”

“I know I am.” He was. Rambling like an idiot. Jack snapped his mouth shut, looking up to Daniel’s face again. Behind the vague alarm still there, he saw understanding. It helped, but didn’t completely alleviate the remorse. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I didn’t remember that I didn’t want to clean up because we were going to your…”

“To my what?” Daniel prompted as he trailed off, straightening his shoulders and wrinkling his forehead. “What?”

Jack let out a long breath, ruing the trouble his mouth had gotten him into. He’d intended on telling Daniel about his apartment, only not quite yet. Possibly not for some time. Seemed like he didn’t have a choice any more. He rubbed a hand through his hair, hesitantly saying, “Your apartment. Carter, Teal’c and I were assigned to pack your stuff. Close your place up. We didn’t though…started catching on to the whole false memory thing. But Hammond had it done anyway.”

“That’s why I couldn’t go there tonight?” Daniel asked, taking a few shaky steps to lean on the kitchen island counter, face losing even more color. “Oh, God. You really believed I was dead. I mean, I knew Nem made you think that but for some reason I didn’t really…I’m so sorry, Jack.”

He moved to the other side of the island, facing the younger man across a safe distance. They stood in silence again, simply staring at each other. He could see the emotions flitting across the Daniel’s face, in his eyes. Embarrassment, confusion, amazement. Jack realized with a start that Daniel might not know just how many people considered him a friend…or if not a friend, then a man deserving respect. Both in life and after death. Shockingly enough, he also realized that what he’d said at the memorial service had been true. The man standing before him was his friend. It wasn’t the trauma causing his emotional behavior, not totally. He couldn’t deny it any more, but he wasn’t certain what to do about it.

“Yeah, we thought you were dead,” he said at last, shuddering when a brief image of Daniel screaming and burning shoved itself front and center in his mind. He closed his eyes against it.

“Jack? You okay?”

Suddenly Daniel was right next to him, face inches away. What the hell? The other man looked scared to death, hands half raised in the air. As Jack fully opened his eyes, the archaeologist resumed a crossed-arm stance. Shit. He must have blanked out.

“I’m fine,” he assured, swallowing the panic from the false pictures. Daniel didn’t need the gory details. “Look, I’m sorry you had to see this mess. I should have just taken care of it after everyone left.”

“I told you before, it’s not a big deal,” Daniel reiterated, studying him closely. There was a wary nervousness in the perusal, concern for him mixed with the emotional shocks Jack had unintentionally inflicted. The expression disappeared in favor of a drier one. “For a second, I thought you’d gone and had a huge party in the event of my untimely—”

“Don’t say that!” Jack harshly interrupted. “Don’t ever even think that, Daniel. Death is not a joke, and I would never be glad to have someone I…”

His throat closed off, as if shocked by his own near admission. Daniel’s eyes were stricken and wide, mouth hanging slightly open. Jack tore his gaze away, drawing himself up into a stiff posture. He clenched his fists tightly, then opened his hands, palm up. Morbidly tracing his lifeline with his eyes, he wondered how long Daniel’s was by comparison. He curled his fingers back into balls.

“Just don’t, okay? I’ll go get the guest room ready.”

He quickly passed by the archaeologist, not giving him the chance to speak. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Daniel would be only minutes behind. Since their first mission, Jack had easily discerned that the scientist was unable to ever let things go—hell, he knew that even before agreeing to have him as a member of SG1. And it was part of what made Daniel so effective on a first contact team. But tonight he just wanted to sleep. To forget for a while. He let out a chuckle at the irony. He’d been trying to keep a reminder of the archaeologist and forget all at the same time. It didn’t take a genius to know those two extremes generally cancelled each other out.

Turning a blind eye to the littered bottles and cups, Jack almost ran to the spare bedroom. He went directly to the closet, pulling out an extra quilt for Daniel. His house was cool, deliberately set so, and he remembered how that had bothered the archaeologist when he’d stayed with him after their return from Chulak. He spread the comforter, watched it float down to land perfectly. As he turned to turn down the sheets, he saw Daniel’s telltale shadow dance on the floor, the younger man lingering hesitantly at the door.

Jack rubbed his face with both hands—that was getting to be too much of a habit—and plopped down onto the bed, legs not wanting to hold him up for some reason. Keeping his hands over his eyes, he heard Daniel approach and felt the mattress tilt with his weight. They were so close, body heat transferred onto his shoulder and thigh.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m sorry that you thought I was dead. I’m sorry I joked about it. But I’m here now, and I don’t plan on going anywhere. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know. I do. It’s just…it’s just that…” As in Hammond’s office only an hour ago, Jack couldn’t find the words. He snapped his head up. Tomorrow. He could deal with whatever residual effects tomorrow, after he’d slept and regained an ounce of control. “I’m going to bed. I’ll take you home tomorrow morning. Hammond said your apartment would be done by the end of the day. You might want to supervise.”

Practically launching himself from the room, Jack strode down the hall and into his own room, shutting the door. On Daniel and memories.

Daniel sat where Jack left him, completely befuddled. It wasn’t every day you found out your team leader had been in charge of throwing you a party. Even if it was a posthumous party. And it wasn’t every day you realized that said team leader was behaving suspiciously like a friend. His relationship with Jack was not easy to figure out in and of itself. Half the time, Daniel thought the colonel considered him the bane of his existence, a thorn in his backside. The other half, he felt warm and welcomed. He thought perhaps those two varied feelings were actually representations of the same thing. Which made it all the more confusing.

For all intents and purposes, he and the other man shouldn’t even be on speaking terms. They had very little in common that he could think of, and if anything were on opposing sides of any given issue. Yet, of his three teammates, Daniel already knew Jack was the first one banging away on his internal sanctum. And the first one who’d break through, if he hadn’t already. He was touched beyond reason that Jack had used his own home to celebrate his life. He wasn’t upset at the untidiness left behind, not bothered by the implications of a wake. Death was a part of life, a fact he’d learned early on.

He just had to make Jack understand that, but he didn’t know how. Because he didn’t have any idea what was making the other man so upset. Maybe he should just get some sleep, worry about it in the morning. He leaned down and unlaced his boots, kicking them away from the bed. Wrestling out of his jacket, Daniel threw it on top of the shoes. He tore off his glasses, tossing them on the bedside table and stretched out on the mattress, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

And stared at the ceiling. Damnit, he’d left the light on. He scowled over at the light switch as if that would make it turn off on its own. When that didn’t work, he sighed and tossed the blankets over his head and turned onto his right side, already too warm to want to sneak out from under the covers. It turned out the quandary of light on or off was academic anyway. Not more than half an hour ago, he’d been so wiped he was out on his feet but now he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes closed. He stayed in his self made cocoon, hoping to relax enough to beat the insomnia.

It didn’t work. He lasted about twenty minutes, then gave it up for lost. Throwing back the covers, his skin instantly pricked with gooseflesh and he lunged for his jacket and boots. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well do something constructive…like clean Jack’s house for him. Maybe that would help his team leader—no his friend—come to grips with the thing haunting him. He eased out of the bedroom, without his glasses. He crept down the hallway and into the kitchen, leaving the lights off until he’d reached his destination.

Unless Jack had changed his cupboards around since his last visit, Daniel knew exactly where to find the decaffeinated coffee. The lure of the fully caffeinated French Roast was strong, but the thought of facing Doctor Fraiser quickly belayed that calling. While the pot brewed, Daniel fished around, gathering a garbage bag, broom and dustpan. There really wasn’t that much garbage to dispose of—it wasn’t like Jack had had a kegger. He dug out a mug and poured himself a coffee and journeyed into the sitting room, leaving the kitchen light on to serve as his guide.

The dim light was enough to let him enter the room and head for the coffee table. He set down his mug and moved toward the table lamp, trying to recall if it was one that had a three-way bulb. He didn’t want to turn the lights on full glare and rouse Jack. The shadows under the other man’s eyes were enough proof that he was suffering from lack of sleep as well. Leaning to the lamp, he hadn’t quite made it to the switch when suddenly the overhead light flooded the room. He couldn’t withhold a gasp of surprise, jerking upright and spinning to find Jack glowering at him from the other end of the sofa, hand on the wall. To make his ire more apparent, the colonel crossed his arms and deepened his scowl. Even sans glasses, Daniel could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“What’re you doing up?” Jack’s gruffly asked. “And what are you doing drinking coffee? Fraiser will have my hide.”

Daniel slumped onto the couch, embarrassed at being caught. His own abashment faded when he realized he could ask Jack the same thing. He jerked back up, and focused his attention on the standing colonel. He was still wearing what he’d had on when they left the SGC, so Daniel knew he hadn’t even tried to sleep. Clumsily slouching back down, he eyed the cleaning implements in this hand before transferring his gaze to his friend.

“I couldn’t sleep, believe it or not. I thought I’d help by cleaning this up for you. Sorry if I woke you,” he said, satisfied to see Jack flinch at the last comment. “And it’s decaf.”

“Well, in that case, let me go grab some,” Jack sarcastically retorted, but did in fact move into the kitchen, returning moments later with a steaming cup.

Daniel lay the garbage bag and broom next to him on the couch as Jack crossed the room, sitting in the chair next to the fireplace. He had an immediate flashback of a previous discussion they’d had in this room, about love and loss. That was months ago and he was just now realizing Jack was his friend? He marveled at his own denseness. Those weren’t the kind of subjects you talked about with a mere coworker.

Jack fiddled with an empty beer bottle with one hand, lifting the other to sip from his coffee cup. Daniel wasn’t sure if he should just go on doing what he’d intended, so he gathered a handful of empty mugs and shuffled off to the kitchen. When he got back, the other man was still blankly staring at the beer bottle. Perplexed, he crinkled his eyebrows, trying to read something in the expression. That he could find nothing frightened him, and he had to find a way to wipe the emptiness of Jack’s face away. Impulsively, he snagged the garbage bag from the couch and walked over to his friend. He started easing the bottle from the colonel, taken aback when the grip abruptly tightened.

“Remember when I told you I can sometimes forget about what happened to my kid?” Jack whispered, voice flat.

Freezing, Daniel watched Jack’s fingers gradually loosen, spreading so they came into contact with his own. He snapped his eyes up to find deep brown ones staring at him. He nodded, swallowed heavily, and took the bottle. Breaking eye contact, he retreated to the sofa.

“What I didn’t tell you is that at first, I did just the opposite. Sara wanted to forget and I wanted to remember. Ironic how we switched that around, huh?” Jack kept talking as if he wasn’t even in the room, eyes pinned on the bottle in Daniel’s hands. “I got pissed when she wanted to clear out Charlie’s room. That was the only place left where I could feel him. The only place I could go to really remember.”

He thought about telling Jack that his reaction, and Sara’s, were both common after a loss. Wanted to tell him about his own experiences with Sha’re and his parents. He thought that would in an odd way diminish what his friend was trying to tell him, so instead he just asked, “When did that change?”

“After the first Abydos mission. Sara wouldn’t let me back in, wouldn’t let me go to his room. I think she was afraid. So I moved out and on. I forgot.”

“Sometimes,” Daniel whispered.

“Sometimes.”

And suddenly Daniel understood what had been bothering Jack, putting together the fragments of the evening’s earlier conversations. Jack had purposely left the wake evidence because his other things, tangible items, were going to be removed the following day. Warmth flowed through him but he didn’t say anything. This was Jack’s way of showing feelings neither of them were comfortable displaying, and while the method was indirect, he found himself oddly pleased. And scared. Did he really want to get this attached to anyone on Earth, and did he want them embracing him?

“I knew it had to happen eventually but I didn’t want to admit to myself he was gone, you know? I’m glad Sara was able to help, though I doubt she’ll ever know how much she actually did for me,” Jack continued softly. “Even after that alien double thing, I haven’t really talked to her much.”

Daniel did understand the misery of isolation—he now regretted shutting out so many people as he was growing up. Good people who did care about him. Sha’re would always be first and foremost on his mind, but she’d want him to find some happiness during their separation, and SG1 was proving the road to that. More and more, he was realizing that accepting his role among his friends, even allowing himself some pleasure during this phase of his life, wasn’t wrong. And it wouldn’t make him forget her or Skaara. Tossing the bottle from left to right hand, he finally shoved it into the garbage bag. Jack ripped out of his reverie, sitting up straight and looking directly at him. Daniel gave him a slight nod.

“Well, there’s no reason to keep your house like this, is there?” he asked, hoping his real message was understood. He’d said it directly before but wasn’t sure how truthfully Jack had taken it. “I mean, it’s going to start smelling around here.”

“No, I guess there’s not,” Jack said, briefly smiling before raising his coffee mug to disguise it. “But I really am tired now, so let’s leave it until morning, okay?”

At Jack’s words, Daniel discovered he, too, was tired at last. So tired he actually was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Exhaustion had finally caught up with him, and was slapping him quite brutally. He managed a nod, then started drawing his legs onto the couch. It seemed as good a place as any to sleep.

“Oh, no you don’t. Bed,” Jack murmured, amazingly at his side. Daniel hadn’t even seen or heard him move. Strong hands ran along his back and hoisted him up, moving to shove his feet to the floor. “Come on. It’s just a few steps.”

“Okay. Jack? ‘Mmtired. Glad we talked.”

“Tired? Like I couldn’t have guessed. Jeez, Daniel, you weigh a hell of a lot more than I thought.”

“All muscle.”

Jack snorted in his ear and mumbled something unintelligible. Daniel didn’t care what it was, just glad to hear emotion coming from his friend. His good friend; he liked the sound of that. He leaned into Jack and let himself be guided into bed, feeling good to be…home.

Stretching his arms wide, Jack surveyed the damage. The abandoned garbage bag and broom were on the floor where Daniel had kicked them. He had to admit their talk had made him feel better, enabling him to get a decent rest at last. Owning up that he cared about Daniel hadn’t been as difficult or awkward as he’d anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t come right out and said it, but he knew the young man had understood. While he should have felt embarrassed about their discussion, he only felt relieved. And alarmingly good.

He decided to ignore the clutter, heading instead for a nice, long shower. Maybe by the time he was done, Daniel would be awake. Speeding through his routine, Jack threw on a pair of khakis and a long sleeved T-shirt, leaving his hair tousled and spiky. He dug through his closet in search of clothes for the archaeologist, finding a pair of jeans he’d shrunk so much they didn’t fit him anymore and a sweatshirt. He drew the line at furnishing underwear. Gathering the ensemble, he left his room and headed for the kitchen, where he heard soft mumbling. Daniel was puttering around, getting ready to make another pot of coffee.

“Skip the decaf. Fraiser’s rules be damned, I’d say honest to goodness caffeine is needed,” he greeted, smirking when Daniel jumped and spun around.

“Oh, good morning, Jack. Sleep well?” Daniel recovered quickly, wiping the alarm from his face and stance.

“As a matter of fact, I did. Let me do that. You go take a shower,” Jack ordered, eyeing the younger man’s ruffled appearance, mop of hair unruly and in his face. He sauntered into the room and removed the coffee pot from reluctant hands. “Here—this stuff should fit you, but you’ll have to go commando. And, er, keep the pants. I won’t want them back after that.”

“Okay.”

Daniel took the clothes, peering at him with an odd expression. He opened his mouth, but apparently thought better of saying whatever was on his mind and silently left the kitchen. Minutes later, Jack heard the shower start. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he hadn’t really eaten anything substantial for a couple of days. Beer didn’t count, did it? He ransacked the refrigerator, but came up empty. Probably for the best. He’d already be on Fraiser’s hit list for the coffee, which would be enough for the archaeologist anyway. And he could go without food for a little longer. He rubbed his hands through his hair, thinking of the too tight jeans, embarrassed to even mentally admit he hadn’t shrunk them.

While the coffee was brewing, he did a quick search of every room, gathering dirty dishes as he went. He stacked them on the countertop, and set about loading them into the dishwasher. As he hit the button to start the wash cycle, he couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the memories that would also be washed away with the grime. Even if there was residue, he had the comfort of knowing he could just polish it right off with a swipe of a cloth. The wake had been unnecessary. Daniel wasn’t dead. He hadn’t lost anyone. His grin grew wider.

“What’s so funny?”

Startled out of his musing, Jack shook his head. Daniel stood in the doorway, drowning in his sweatshirt, bare toes peeking out of the long-in-the-leg-jeans. He just smiled even more as the younger man padded over to the cupboard to find himself a coffee cup, eyebrows quirking in perplexity. After a moment, Daniel lost the confused expression and smiled back.

“Your offer to help clean up still good?” he asked, joining Daniel at the coffee pot.

“Of course. Looks like you’ve already started,” Daniel accepted. Jack was close enough to hear his stomach growl.

“I, uh, don’t have any food. Sorry. But we can go out for breakfast?” Jack dared to live dangerously. Screw Doctor Fraiser—solid food was precisely what the younger man needed. He was looking a tad on the waifish side…or was that just an illusion due to the oversized clothes?

“Actually, I’m not big on breakfast. Just hook me up with a couple of cups of this and I’m good.”

“Sure, that’s why your stomach’s making that racket, right?”

Daniel had the decency to look abashed, shooting a glance down at his traitorous midsection. He brought the steaming cup of coffee to his lips for a quick sip before replying, “Fine. You’re buying? Seeing as I don’t have any money on me.”

“Yeah. I’m buying.”

“Great, then let’s get this over with. I’m starving.”

Jack trailed after the younger man back into the sitting room, setting his mug down and snagging the broom and dustpan in a single motion. Daniel took up the garbage bag and collected the empty beer bottles while he did a half-assed job of sweeping. He’d never admit to doing it, but he paid more attention to the archaeologist than the actual cleaning. He was glad to have all of his teammates…the past few days proving how vital they’d all become to him.

Carter was a fantastic second in command and Teal’c was proving to be a huge asset to the SGC. His relationship with each of them was understandable, easy to translate in terms of the military kinship. But wonder of all wonders was the fact that he was friends with Daniel—someone who was the polar opposite of him. At least that was how it appeared on the surface. More than ever, Jack felt a connection to the younger man on some hidden level. Maybe he’d never fully understand it, but he’d never take it for granted. He’d be a lousy person if he did. A couple of years ago…hell, a couple of days ago he never would have accepted the strange friendship. Now he couldn’t imagine life without it.

Daniel moved about the room, oblivious to the inspection until he paused by the fireplace. He set the bag down, and removed a picture from the mantel. Without even really seeing which one, Jack knew it was one of him, Sara and Charlie. The only reminder he had left. The archaeologist looked over to him, running light fingertips over the frame and nodding to him once before replacing it.

“Sometimes,” Daniel whispered, then tugged the garbage bag up and left the room to dispose of it.

Jack gave up sweeping, brushing what little he’d accomplished into the dustpan and depositing it in the kitchen garbage can. He went back into the sitting room, easing down on the sofa and reclaiming his coffee. It was lukewarm at best, but he managed a few sips. Daniel came back in, flopping down on the other end of the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and he found himself absently studying the fireplace. The entire mantel was filled with military medals and commendations, pictures reflecting only that aspect of his life. Studying the only family picture up there, he realized that in addition to his former family photograph, he needed to find a current one of SG1 to really complete the decorating job.

“Well,” Daniel inanely broke the hush.

“I guess we’re done here. You ready to get something to eat and head home? We can call Carter and Teal’c over if you want.” He glanced at the archaeologist, just glimpsing a fleeting, indistinguishable look. He set down his mug. “Daniel?”

“Yeah. Home.” Daniel reached for the abandoned cups, to take them into the kitchen.

Out of nowhere, Jack felt an odd compulsion. He quietly ordered, “Leave ‘em there, Daniel.”

Instead of returning to chase ghosts, to try and make the intangible tangible, Jack would come home to the memory that he’d shared a cup of coffee with a friend he’d almost lost before even realizing he had.

He wasn’t ready to let that slip away just yet.

The End

Heightened Security
by Carrie

Sam didn’t know how they had let themselves get talked into this. She subtly jabbed her elbow into the colonel’s side, giving him a non-verbal that she was feeling a bit shut in. The cost of fuel and care for the environment be damned, she thought Janet needed to get a bigger vehicle. It would have been better if they had just asked General Hammond to do this particular task. He was Texan, not that short, and he knew the importance of legroom. He had an SUV.

“Doc, can’t you go a little faster? This is bad for my knees,” the colonel said.

“I don’t think you should be complaining. You’re behind Janet. You’ve got miles. I’ve got the hump,” Sam groused.

“I believe neither of you have cause to voice your dissension in this matter.”

Sam switched her focus to Teal’c, who looked at her dolefully, then shot a look up to the passenger in the front seat. For a guy who wasn’t that much taller than her, Daniel had incredibly long legs and he had the seat back as far as it would go. He was, apparently, oblivious to the poor scrunched Jaffa behind him. She reached up to poke Janet again, and received another vehement headshake for her trouble. Rolling her eyes, Sam let it slide. They were almost there, anyway. Janet’s territoriality over Daniel could be questioned after they got back.

“Uh oh,” Janet said.

“Uh oh, what?” the colonel asked. “Or don’t I want to know?”

Sam stared with horror at the sea of red taillights on the road ahead of them. The temptation to call a Chinese Fire Drill nearly overwhelmed her; she knew she could take the colonel for a better seat. A low hum sounded through the car as Janet slowed down. It took her several seconds to realize the noise came from within the vehicle, not as a result of tires against asphalt. Beside her, Teal’c went from mildly tense to hard as a rock. She didn’t need any other information to know he was the source of the hum…growl. She gave Daniel a tiny pinch on the back of his arm.

“Ow…hey,” Daniel yelped, turning slightly to give her hurt puppy dog eyes. Sam felt a twinge of remorse and then immediately thought she might have figured out how he had got the nice, spacious front. “Sam, what did you do that for?”

“If we’re stuck in traffic, I think you should either switch with Teal’c or move your seat up,” Sam said.

“What?” Daniel twisted to look at Teal’c's crowded form. “Why didn’t you say anything? I didn’t realize.”

The colonel snorted in her ear, then muttered something Sam couldn’t make out. She didn’t figure anyone was supposed to hear, but it sounded disparaging. Teal’c gave a bare smile, signaling he had heard and agreed with the mysterious remark. The front seat jerked forward.

“Mind sharing that out loud, Jack?” Daniel asked, hurt puppy eyes now blazing bolts. Sam smiled and sat back to enjoy the show.

“Not at all. I said: of course you didn’t realize, you’re too fixated on your fantastic little idea to notice you’re torturing the rest of us.”

Ouch. Sam couldn’t disagree, though she still thought they each had come culpability. After all, they could have said no.

“Torture?” Uh oh. Daniel had adopted a confused and cautious tone. Classic warning sign.

“We’re riding in a tiny tin can in order to get on a big tin can. Even with Shorty driving, I’m crowded. Carter’s jammed into a spot usually reserved for kids or people with extraordinarily little legs. And Teal’c, until a few moments ago, looked like a sardine. He’s still looking mighty uncomfortable. So, yes, torture.”

“Shorty?” Janet said. Oooh, trouble. “Tin can? I think someone has forgotten who’s in charge of his next physical.”

“Aw, Doc, give me a break. Carter keeps elbowing me. It’s hot in here. And, yes, I’m annoyed because I really don’t think I’ve ‘gotten out of touch with the real world’ like Daniel seems to believe.”

“I just think if we’re going to travel for reasons unrelated to the Air Force, we should fly commercial like everyone else does. Teal’c's never even been on anything but a military plane,” Daniel shot back. “If you really didn’t want to do this, why didn’t you say something before?”

Exactly, Sam thought wryly.

“Uh,” said the colonel, appearing unable to shore up an articulate response. Actually, he looked embarrassed.

Sam knew, then, that the colonel had been a victim of the puppy eyes. But ‘puppy eyes’ wasn’t an accurate description of Daniel at his most imploring. Thing was, she was pretty sure Daniel didn’t even know he could magically turn his teammates and random strangers into worthless puddles of goo just by looking at them with enthusiasm and certainty. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t orchestrated this whole ordeal; he wanted them to experience something normal for a change. There was nothing wrong with that.

“O’Neill made reference to not having the desire to bur—” Sam played dirty, aiming for Teal’c's midsection with all her force. Daniel would not appreciate the inference he was in any way getting special treatment. “—Oof. Major Carter, why have you attacked me in such a manner?”

“Carter?”

“Sam?”

“Sam?”

Great, now she looked like the bad guy.

“If the colonel’s crowded, I’m crammed,” Sam muttered, cringing at the defensiveness she heard in her words. “It was an accident.”

“It was not,” Teal’c declared.

The car crawled along, stopped for a brief moment, then rolled forward again. Sam cursed rubberneck drivers who just had to stare at someone else’s calamity or construction or whatever; they were making her life miserable. Everyone else in the car stared at her. She cleared her throat. She had to think of a way to get the attention off her. Why the hell had she re-routed Daniel and the colonel’s argument?

“Look, we’re going to be in the car for longer than any of us really counted on. I just think we should try to make the best of it.” There, that was valid.

“What do you have in mind, Carter? A sing-along?”

“One big happy,” Daniel chimed in. “No, she’s right, Jack. If we can’t even make the car ride to the airport, how are we going to take the next week at the cabin? Going there was your idea. If you hadn’t suggested that, then I wouldn’t have suggested taking a commercial flight.”

A fair point. Satisfied the attention was back where it should be, Sam sat back and kept her eyes on the traffic situation, her ears on the continuing argument. This particular case was a bit like the classic chicken/egg quandary—in the end, it didn’t really matter which came first

“For your information, Hammond ordered us to attend one of those team-building seminars,” the colonel said. “You know, the ones where you have to build a tower using only five paperclips, a folding chair, two soda bottles, masking tape and pure creative teamwork. The ones usually under the guidance of someone with a showy name like Dr. Lex Baumgarten or something.”

“Team-building,” Daniel scoffed. “We’ve been together for years and General Hammond is just now thinking we need to work on our rapport with each other?”

“Exactly. We work just fine. He said the brass are concerned about how stressful the job is, and the impact that might have on us. The rest of the teams have to do it, too. Hammond made it clear we’re not exempt. I offered a week at the lake together as an alternative, which he approved. You should thank me.”

“My gratitude will be given only if I survive the insects, O’Neill,” Teal’c said.

“You’re never going to forgive me for taking you to the cabin in August, are you? It’s June. Minnesota is like heaven in June. Trust me, this will be better than a stupid seminar,” the colonel announced.

Sam forgot she was just going to listen. “Actually, sir, it’s been proven that those ‘stupid seminars’ help people think outside the box, foster respect and understanding for one another, and become more productive and happy. A fishing trip will make Teal’c miserable, Daniel bored, and will cause speculation on whether or not I’m actually fishing with my three male teammates. I don’t quite see how this is better.”

“What?”

“You’re besmirching my good name, Colonel.”

“I am not.” The denial was adamant, the colonel’s face horrified. “You’re a member of my team, that’s all. All for one and one for…okay, not a really good clich to use.”

“She’s got a point, Jack.”

Sam didn’t know why Daniel was suddenly on her side, but she didn’t care. She looked at the colonel smugly.

“Wait a minute,” her CO said, glaring. “If you’re so concerned about your honor, why didn’t you mention this before?”

Oh, look, they’d spun around in another circle. Years ago, Sam had lamented not being ‘one of the guys’, being on the outside no matter what. Somewhere along the way she had gotten her wish, so much so that until she’d started chewing the colonel out, she hadn’t even thought about the inappropriateness of cavorting off to a cabin in the woods with three men. Three men she knew were very attractive, even if they were simply her friends. Major or not, she was a red-blooded woman in her thir…for…in the prime of her life.

“Because,” Sam said.

“Because? Oh, that’s a good—”

“Okay, we’re here,” Janet announced, interrupting the colonel. “Everyone out.”

Sam blinked and looked out Teal’c's window. Janet had double-parked in the unloading zone and there were people hustling and bustling out of vehicles and through sliding glass doors. No, she hadn’t missed this kind of travel—not the elbow smacking, personal space invasion, bad breath or the grouchiness. Annoyance at Daniel sparked up again, coupled with a desire for time to speed up so they could get the trip over with. She scrambled out after the colonel, following him to the trunk. He pulled out her bag and handed it to her.

“Carter, if you think you shouldn’t go, it’s okay,” he said. “I don’t want something as trivial as this cause a problem.”

“What are the other teams doing?” Sam said, wondering how the team-building thing had come about without her knowledge. SG1 was always in on everything.

“Off site week-long seminar.”

“So, basically the same thing as this, except they’re all going together somewhere.” You know, she was kind of glad to escape that.

“Couldn’t this be considered preferential treatment?” Daniel mused. Sam jumped, startled by how close he had gotten to her. “I’m going to get so much flak from the rest of the archaeology and linguistics staff.”

“There’s a tragedy. You’ll go through hell,” the colonel said. “And I’ll lose sleep thinking about how I caused it all.”

“Inappropriate sarcasm.”

Sam was a bit surprised Daniel didn’t turn into a cartoon version of himself, complete with smoke coming out of his ears. The colonel was being insufferable. But then again, so was Daniel. She extricated herself from between them and joined Teal’c on the sidewalk. The bickering wasn’t entertaining anymore, and she suddenly knew that nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to make this week a pleasant one.

“They are being more irritating than usual, are they not?” Teal’c said.

For a moment, Sam could only gape at Teal’c for sharing his opinion so freely, then chuckled and gave him a small nod. The trunk of the car slammed, and Janet started driving away. Sam couldn’t blame her for not sticking around to say good-bye. Or good luck. No one said a word as the colonel and Daniel moved onto the sidewalk. They walked to the self check-in counter, swathed in heavy silence. She wished she could think of something to say, but the way their conversation had been going it would only cause problems.

She watched Daniel print out his ticket and move to the side to wait for the rest of them. Glancing down at her small bag, Sam was glad she wasn’t a high maintenance traveler; checking a bag would have undoubtedly turned into a protracted event. Anything that streamlined the tedious ordeal was a blessing not to be taken for granted. She finished up, then went to stand by Daniel, fidgeting while the colonel and Teal’c figured out the computer terminal. It seemed to take forever.

“I don’t think they’re getting it,” Daniel growled. “It’s so easy a first grader could do it, what’s taking them so long?”

“Calm down, Daniel,” Sam said. She couldn’t believe she had to play parent. “You’re not helping matters, you know. Wait here, I’ll go see what’s going on.”

She resisted ordering him to be good. She sure as hell didn’t need him pissed off at her, too. As it was, it didn’t look like either he or Colonel O’Neill were planning on offering an olive branch. Sam was only about halfway to the terminals when the colonel and Teal’c finally started moving. She furrowed her eyebrows at their expressions.

“Sir?” she greeted. “Wha—”

“We would have been done ten minutes ago,” the colonel interrupted, pausing to glare at Teal’c before continuing, “But T suddenly turned smartass and kept typing in NETU for destination point instead of MINN.”

A hybridization of a laugh and a cough carried through the thrum of airport noise. Barely refraining from following suit, Sam identified the source as Daniel, who hadn’t waited anywhere. He drew alongside her, and the four of them stood facing each other. No one spoke, two because of the effort to maintain at least a modicum of control, one because silence goes well with smugness and the final was too busy issuing unspoken communication via glowers.

“You have to admit that’s funny, Jack,” Daniel said at last, managing to tone his mirth into a wide smile.

“No, it’s not. It probably doesn’t seem like I mind the ridicule about my preferred vacation spot and itinerary, but I gotta tell you it’s lost its charm.”

The colonel looked really upset, his lips together in a thin, unhappy line. She suddenly didn’t find Teal’c's cleverness that funny anymore. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam could see Daniel’s smile fade and Teal’c straighten already straight shoulders, both of them apparently as guilted as she by the colonel’s wounded tone. It had never occurred to her that the good-natured responses O’Neill always gave to derisive remarks were a front to hide actual hurt. After all, she always took his cries of boredom for anything she found fun and interesting with a gigantic grain of salt.

“Okay, fine, I actually do really like Minnesota. It’s a wonderful place some of the time, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better,” Daniel said rapidly.

“Well, thank you.”

The colonel exhibiting his appeasement with a small smile, they were finally ready to move on to the next excruciating step. Had she mentioned how much she really hadn’t missed being a civilian traveler? As Sam made for the security checkpoint, she caught the colonel’s expression change to satisfaction. Not even a hint of hurt remained on his face. They’d been played, or at least Daniel had. She chose not to clue anyone else in. Her sanity depended on her silence.

They presented their boarding passes and IDs for verification, then got in yet another line. If they had gone on a military flight (oh why hadn’t the colonel ‘fessed up to this being an ordered outing?), they would have been in the air already. Sam let out a heavy sigh and eyed the security guards with aversion. There were only two conveyor tracks open, which explained the line, and women stationed both. A particularly busty, short, middle-aged guard overtly ran her eyes up and down Daniel as he laid his bag on the track. He didn’t notice the attention, of course. Sam smiled at the woman, who was too alerting her coworker of Daniel’s position. Not just Daniel’s. The colonel and Teal’c got the same treatment.

“Next,” Busty called.

Daniel walked through. The alarm sounded.

“Shoes,” Busty’s coworker, NotBusty, ordered.

Leaning down to undo his shoelaces, Daniel remained clueless to the mental undressing Sam witnessed. She didn’t know if she should be aghast or amused by the security guards’ behavior. She sneaked her own peek at Daniel’s rear and settled on entertained. Her friend put his shoes in a bin and walked back through the detector. It buzzed again, and Sam saw his head bob down, shoulders slump. Behind her, the colonel groaned softly.

“Come on, Daniel, you’re holding things up.”

“Don’t worry, big boy, it’ll be your turn soon enough,” Busty said.

“Uh,” the colonel stuttered.

“Empty your pockets and remove your shirt, please,” NotBusty requested of Daniel.

“What?” Daniel protested. “Is that normal?”

“Heightened security,” Busty explained. “Don’t worry, this happens all the time.”

Her ass it happened all the time. Sam had heard stories of people forced to strip completely, but always with reasonable suspicion. And in private. She took a step toward a clearly flustered Daniel, stopped by NotBusty. The woman was even thinner than she was, but incredibly wiry and strong. This was becoming a little unentertaining.

“Please, ma’am. We don’t want a scene,” the guard said, guiding Sam a couple steps backward.

Sam watched Daniel reluctantly lift his shirt over his head, amazed he was complying rather than just walking away. She started to look to her CO and Teal’c, then did a double take. The T-shirt Daniel had on under his pullover raised, revealing the creamy skin of his midriff. Toned muscle over smoothness worth killing for. How had she never noticed how, uhm, well-built her good friend had become? Someone hissed, a disappointed sound, when the T-shirt fell back into place.

As for her, well, it was like she was under some spell, frozen to the spot as Daniel walked through the detector for a third time. Sam heard a dim drone start up and it startled her out of her reverie. She looked around and discovered quite a gathering of women had huddled up close behind them. A couple of men were scattered throughout as well, all there to show their appreciation. Several people pointed to Daniel’s biceps, his nape.

Unsurprisingly, the detector buzzed again. The sound was impetus for the dim drone to escalate into an excited hum.

“So much for no scene,” the colonel said nervously. “I don’t, uh, I don’t think Daniel realizes how, you know, he’s become.”

“Sir?” Sam responded, an automatic reaction. She really couldn’t care less what the colonel was saying. She was too busy watching Daniel turn back around. If they made him take off his T-shirt, a feeding frenzy wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

“He’s attractive, okay? The workouts have paid off. He’s still nothing like T, here, in the muscle department, but…”

That she heard. Despite knowing how wrong this all was, Sam perked up at the thought. She shifted so both the colonel and Teal’c were before her in line.

“I believe my tattoo will prevent me from safely maneuvering through this contraption,” Teal’c said suddenly, and loudly. “I regret I will not be able to accompany you to Minnesota at this time, O’Neill.”

With that, Teal’c spun around and stalked away at near breakneck speed. Frustrated moans arose from the crowd, and Sam joined them mentally. Not that she didn’t have the chance to see her friends up close and personal on a daily basis, but this was different. This, somehow, made them not just her friends.

“I’m going to go make sure he gets a cab okay,” the colonel announced. “Have a good trip.”

“Sir, what about Daniel?” Sam called, but her question went unheeded.

Left alone to help her poor teammate, Sam turned around. NotBusty had Daniel trapped, preventing his escape at every try. And he was trying.

“T-shirt,” NotBusty ordered.

“No. No way,” Daniel said.

“Think full body search. Cooperate here, and we can avoid that,” Busty informed.

This was ridiculous. They couldn’t really be making these threats, could they?

“Sam?”

She knew she should step up. Much to her own surprise, Sam shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Daniel’s eyes skittered around the crowd, probably looking for the colonel or Teal’c, who were very likely halfway home by now.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Daniel said.

He turned away from the crowd and pulled his T-shirt off. Sam swallowed. Whoa. She swallowed again. She and Daniel worked out together often, she should have noticed how broad his shoulders were, how narrow his waist was by comparison. The muscles of his back were supple and moved fluidly when he put his arms down. Whoa.

She shook her head, a pang of sudden remorse sneaking through her rather stunned state. She couldn’t just let Daniel suffer through this, could she? If the situation was reversed, Sam knew he would come through for her. She blinked when Daniel turned around to shoot her an imploring look. Remorse disintegrated. It was a look just like that that had gotten them to this point, after all. Daniel had wanted this experience. Okay, not this experience, per se. Sam looked Daniel over. Her willingness to do nothing had little to do with sinuous pectorals and a six-pack. It had everything to do with people getting what they asked for. Daniel had made his bed.

She dug her cell phone out and punched a number without taking her eyes off Daniel. He relaxed, doubtlessly thinking she was helping.

“Step through, please,” NotBusty ordered.

Sam’s eyes moved from Daniel’s slumped shoulders to his jeans-clad rear. The phone rang twice, and then was picked up. She spoke without waiting for an acknowledgement from the other end.

“Janet, how far away from the airport are you? There’s something here you really want to see.”

The detector buzzed. The crowd cheered.

The End