Cabin Fevers

by Riantiata

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asr/riantiata/fevers.php
Summary: Jack/daniel. Black cat. Meteorological problems.H/C. Mud. Huffys challenge

Three days they had been at Jack's cabin. Three days of beautiful sunshine, swimming, eating, chilling out. Colonel Jack O'Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson - Jack casting into his fishless lake – Daniel reading, as usual, beside him – just relaxing from the mission tensions that had been with them for weeks.

Downtime was a week away from the pressures of the SGC.

In the afternoon of their third day of leisure Jack scrutinised the sky, "Guess we'll have rain before long."

Daniel glanced at the cloudless, bright vista, "What makes you think so?"

"Second sight – it's in me genes" the atrocious Irish accent mocked.

Daniel shrugged and turned back to his book. Half an hour later the heavens opened. "OK, how did you know?"

Jack smiled "I've lived in this cabin on and off all my life – at least once a year I spend time here. There's a shimmer on the ridge that arrives just before the rain. That's when I know to duck. Minnesota rain is like no other. It soaks."

It was certainly coming hard and fast and Jack began to close the storm doors when he spied Daniel's discarded shirt still lying on the deck. Sighing he ran out to grab it; as he did so, a small cat shape sped by him, leapt up the steps and straight into Daniel's arms.

A moment later a large dog came charging out of the trees and cannoned into Jack knocking him back, his feet slipped and he went down under the heavy, wet canine.

"What the hell...." he yelled. A young boy came running from the woods.

"Caesar, back, back" he called – the dog pulled away from Jack and sat on its haunches. The boy approached Jack, a little fearfully, as he was glowering an O'Neill special.

"I'm sorry, sir. He was chasing a cat – he gets sort of enthusiastic, we didn't mean to come onto your private land." The boy seemed polite, and even a wet, muddy colonel didn't feel like making an issue of it.

"Better come in, lad," he said gruffly "We're all much too wet. Bring the dog, I'll get a towel."

Back indoors, Daniel handed towels to the boy and Jack who used his to dry the dog first.

"Where's the cat?" Daniel indicated the bedroom, it's door closed.

Jack nodded and turned to the boy, "Where do you live, son?"

The boy answered, and Daniel watched as they chatted, saw Jack's face animated in the conversation. He knew what he was seeing was Jack's reaction to a boy so like his own son, Charlie, dead these five years. Jack looked across at him and indicated the kitchen with a nod. Right, hot drinks – naturally, why didn't he think of that, too busy watching Jack – what's new.

After the drinks Jack said "Daniel. I'll take them home. It's five miles and he'll get bogged down in this downpour. There's always the danger of mudslides. You'll find fish in the freezer, micro some for the cat. Won't be long." He was gone with boy and dog before Daniel could answer. He peeked into the bedroom to find the little black cat in the middle of Jack's bed.

"Oh he'll love that," he told it, noticing the mud on the comforter. He found the fish, micro'd it, and put it on a plate to cool. He looked out of the window at the torrent, already turning the soil to a river of mud, and hoped Jack's four-wheeler wouldn't get stuck – the track from the cabin to the road was little more than a dirt path. He noticed his shirt still out in the rain – oh well.

He took the fish into the bedroom and offered it to the cat. The cat looked up and it was then he noticed there was only one luminous golden eye.

"Poor little one," he said "How did that happen?" The other eye had healed shut, and looked clean – but the cat was muddy, thin and when it started eating he could see how hungry it was. He watched fascinated as the pink tongue lapped at the juice, then curled up to flick small pieces of fish into its mouth. It ate it all and Daniel wondered if he ought to give it some more, there was plenty left, but thinking that little and often was probably as good for an animal as it was for people, he decided against it.

The cell phone rang and Jack said "I'm on my way. Have you fed the cat?"

"Yes."

"Good, give it some water." He rang off, and Daniel went to find a bowl for the water. Cat was obviously thirsty, but would not get down on the floor so Daniel held the bowl on the bed while it delicately lapped its fill. He put the bowl on the floor, on the off chance that it would get down, then turned to go but a small rumble stopped him. The cat was purring and started meticulously washing itself. He sat down on the end of the bed and watched in delight as the cat licked itself clean of mud, purposefully pursuing all the bits of debris in its fur.

Daniel was lost in the watching, not realising Jack had come in and was, in turn, enjoying watching him. For once his archaeologist was bending his considerable intellect and interest on something alive – not thousands of years dead. The intense concentration, usually only shown to ancient artefacts, also told Jack that Daniel knew nothing about animals.

"Hi," he said quietly, breaking the spell "I think you've got yourself a cat and you'd better give him ..." he broke off as the cat lifted a back leg in the cello position – to Daniel's delight – "... her... a tray."

Daniel's face was puzzled, so Jack found a tray, inserted torn up strips of news-paper and passed it to Daniel indicating he should show it to the cat. She sniffed it then watched as Daniel, guided by Jack, put it on the floor beside the water.

Immediately she jumped off the bed and used her makeshift toilet. Then, without a glance at them, she jumped back on the bed, and settled purring quietly. Daniel leant over her, stroking a finger between her ears. Got that right, thought Jack, reminded of his mother – a cat on her lap – using the same gesture. He quietly moved out to the kitchen and began preparing dinner, wondering a little about Daniel's life as a boy. As Daniel's CO he had access to Daniel's papers and reports and knew that his friend had spent a lot of time in foster homes.

"Hey, Danny" he called "Didn't any of your fosters have animals?"

There was no answer then he turned to find Daniel in the doorway, his face unreadable.

"They were too poor, and needy. I took the place of the family dog because I came with money," Jack was amazed at the bitterness in his friend's voice – he rarely talked of his past life, and Jack had learned how private Daniel could be; the times he had made a few intimate comments Jack had felt that Daniel trusted him, but never had he spoken in this tone.

"It gets to me now and again, when I least expect it – sometimes if I read of a child being victimised, I know what that child is going through... It's not often that a loving family takes you in, it's need that drives them – then a resentment of that need. I learned to live with it... but when you're living it, it's hard to accept being a source of income with no worth as a person."

Jack's arms automatically went round him in comfort and a whispered "I'm sorry" for the words that had brought this outburst.

Daniel accepted the comfort for a moment then pushed away, his eyes a little too bright. "You, on the other hand seem to know all about animals."

Jack smiled, acknowledging the change of subject. "Yeah, we had quite a menagerie. Mom's idea – me with no siblings, so she gave me the company, and responsibility of all the animals. Boy did I work – walk dogs, feed cats – and dogs, feed rabbits, feed chickens, gather eggs, worm all that needed it , check on puppies and kittens – oh, I had company all right."

"So that's how you knew she was a she?"

Jack nodded.

It was getting dark so the lamps were lit, dinner was eaten, and Daniel had given the cat some more fish and some of the cream from his dessert.

"You're stuck with her, Danny" Jack told him. "You feed 'em, you keep 'em. You'll have to give her a name, and keep her away from your fish."

Daniel was absolutely besotted with the little cat, Jack could see. Ok so it wasn't a dog – Daniel didn't have a primal bone in his body – didn't know that man and dog went back to the caves.

"We'll have to get a basket for her to travel in, we can go in to Rogan's Bluff – they have a store there. Also you'd better have some tins of food, cats need meat."

"Ok." Then the voice hesitated. "Jack, supposing she belongs to someone?"

Jack shook his head "Five miles from anywhere, Danny – no way. Either she was abandoned, no-one wanted a one-eyed cat or she's wild. Blacks often are."

"She doesn't seem wild to me"

"Oh, Daniel. Even with one eye she made straight for you. She knew a soft touch."

Daniel bristled "I don't know why, I've never had any dealings with cats. I only ever saw neglected ones that used to hang around the digs. We used to feed them, or I did – but they wouldn't come to you – just took the food and ran." And I bet it broke your heart, thought Jack. "Yeah, I wondered about that. You being an Egyptologist and all, even I know the links between Egypt and cats."

They were sitting in the glow of the lanterns and the log fire sipping their drinks, Jack with his inevitable beer, Daniel with wine

"I've been meaning to say, Dannyboy – you remember sometime I called you a cheap date, well I take it back – that wine costs megabucks."

Daniel smiled sweetly, "I know." He switched into full lecture mode, spoiling the effect by waving his wineglass, "The link you're talking about is Bast or Bastet - cat-headed goddess of the Shemsu of Kemet (that's the Followers of Kemet – the name for ancient Egypt) – she was variously described as the goddess of sex, religious prostitution, pleasure goddess and protector of cats. In modern times she was goddess of lesbians."

"The things you know.." said Jack, admiringly "..In modern times?"

"I try to keep up with my journals and papers." They were quiet for a while, meditatively drinking. At ease with each other.

"If..." began Jack, and Daniel stiffened, he knew the tone, knew the subject, "...I offered you more wine, which you can't take too much of, as we know, will you sleep in my bed?"

"You've asked me every night."

"And every night you've said no."

"Because I don't think I should. We're too close".

Or not close enough, they both thought.

"For crying out loud, Daniel. We sleep offworld in a small tent, barely big enough to hold two sleeping bags, with no room with no problem. While here I have a seven foot bed big enough for a family. We are mature, adult men..."

"Who are fascinated by each other's sexuality." Jack choked on his beer, he could not believe Daniel had said that out loud, but Daniel was looking at him challengingly."

"If anything was going to happen it would have happened by now. Four years for god's sake."

Daniel shook his head, "We've been taking it slow. This friendship of ours is special. Very deep, very personal and it's all I've got ... maybe all we've both got. To lose that for something ephemeral..."

"Not necessarily" Jack put in, quietly,

"Maybe not, but it is a factor that I can't risk. It's too important."

"So is this – or it should be. Why do you feel the friendship would die, can't we have both?"

"I don't know, but one is vital the other is unknown."

"So X the unknown factor is not allowed a hearing?"

"We've been over this, Jack. I'm not risking what we have for a possible... mistake."

Jack shook his head "Ah, Danny, trust me - it would never be a mistake. I'd bet my life on it, however so be it. I'll be off to bed."

In the bathroom he mused on the evening's conversation, it wasn't often they discussed their feelings. Despite the U.S.A.F's policy on relationships between serving members there were always those who defied the rules, usually to the detriment of their careers – some, caught by the air force's homophobic clause, ended in Fort Leavenworth. Early in their relationship Jack and Daniel had acknowledged the attraction they had for each other, such disparate individuals – but had elected to embrace the close friendship each had found in the other. Jack had accepted Daniel's fear that something even more intimate would ultimately kill the friendship, that was so essential to them both – alone as they were in their inner isolation.

Jack returned, noticed Daniel piling up blankets on the couch, and turned into the bedroom. A little later he returned with a faint smile on his face,"

"Oh. Daniel." He called "You're going to have to sleep in my bed." He chuckled "Not necessarily with me." Daniel looked startled, he'd thought they had sorted this out – especially his emphasis on the word sexuality, which had had Jack spluttering into his beer. The look on Jack's face and his beckoning movement drew him to the door. The little cat was on her feet, back arched, bottle-brush tail, ears back and one glaring eye – all aimed at Jack.

"Denying me my very bed," sighed Jack, highly amused," I think that's your cue – you have the bed, I'll take the couch".

Daniel made his way into the bathroom his thoughts very much with his friend. He could not do this to him. Jack needed the bed, his back and knees had been complaining since the rain began. The couch was not comfortable anyway, as Daniel knew to his cost. He felt torn – the cat had possession and he was the only persona grata. He exited the bathroom and said to Jack

"Look – this is wrong. You need the bed, you're already hurting.

We'll share." Jack's eyes widened in surprise – he'd won – first time his arthritis had done him any good – and of course tender-hearted Daniel softened by a cat. Maybe they had their uses after all.

Daniel went on "I'll get in first on the other side of her." Putting her between them, - that's ok, thought Jack.

The difficulty was that the cat didn't want to be next to Jack. She spoke long rumblings to Daniel who looked helpless.

"The one language I don't know".

"Come round this side, get in and move her over. She'll let you pick her up, you've got rights. You fed her and she trusts you."

Just like I do, he thought, - and just as you do me, damn it.

Daniel did as he was told, found the cat was quite happy to move and settle in the crook of his arm. Jack put out all but one lantern then slid into bed next to Daniel, leaving plenty of room between them.

He chuckled," At last I've got you in my bed."

"Stop leering!"

"You can't see my leer."

"I can hear it in your voice." Jack's hand crept across the sheet and found Daniel's and folded it into his own.

"Don't worry. I won't do anything peculiar."

"Sssh – not in front of the cat" Daniel's voice was smiling – yes he could hear that – and sleepy. Holding hands they went to sleep in a totally uneventful way.

Next morning Daniel felt small paws kneading his back, and a loud purring filled the room – someone wanted food.

He opened his eyes to find himself draped over Jack – his head on Jack's shoulder, his arm around his waist.

In the night he had turned over and gravitated to Jack's warmth. His shocked blue eyes opened wide and he tried to discreetly pull away, but a hand held his arm in place. Two bright brown eyes looked down at him, not a leer in sight, and a gentle voice said "All is well Danny. You turned over a couple of hours ago and have been sleeping sweetly ever since." Daniel glanced at the clock it was seven-thirty.

"But you always get up at five"

"I decided to let you sleep, I know that couch of old. Anyway was I going to look a gift-horse in the teeth? I had nice company, and I was comfortable – so I wasn't going to disturb you."

"Nothing disturbs me till I've had coffee, as you well know."

Jack chuckled and took his hand away, "In that case I'll get coffee." He rolled out of bed, looked down at the sleepy face and said, gently "Told you you'd be safe. Didn't even need the chaperone." He smiled at the cat who had obviously decided Jack was a feeding person too and followed him out to the kitchen. He uncovered the plate from the night before, set it on the floor and the cat moved in. "Cats are ok, bit too independent for me – dogs are best."

"What was that dog that knocked you over?" Daniel had appeared at the door, tousled and yawning.

"Well I'd say he was airedale, but with a lot of other mixtures, maybe wolfhound, they're not usually that big. Nice kid, that – glad he's got a dog. . Every boy needs a dog... I... was going to get Charlie a dog – that year..." he stopped, swallowing painfully.

Daniel had been turning back to see the cat when Jack's faltering voice stopped him. He laid his hand on Jack's arm, slid it up and circled Jack's neck – laying his cheek against the tight face. Jack kept still, too unbelieving to move, - Daniel - who did not like to be touched, (relic from his difficult childhood), though he would accept Jack's occasional roughhouse treatment with a smile; and who never touched anyone - had accepted Jack into his personal space and had given and received more intimacies in the last few hours than in the four years they had known each other. When Daniel moved away Jack nodded his thanks and returned to his breakfast making.

Later, as Daniel appeared from the bathroom, Jack said "I'm going out now" shrugging into a jacket, "It's not raining but it will come back, it always does – I'll go up on the ridge and get some logs"

"Anything you want me to do while you're gone?".

"Well - you could move the bookcase, start stripping the walls, and paint the woodwork before I get back. I'll be about an hour." He smiled at Daniel's confusion "Go play with your cat... and find a name for her. By the way, we'll have steak tonight. Get it out of the freezer; she can have some with us." He picked up the carryall and machete, checked his cell phone and strode off. Daniel smiled, Jack was just as fond of the cat as he was, he just wouldn't show it – he was a dog man.

It was soggy underfoot and the trees were steaming as a weak sun penetrated their canopy. Jack climbed the ridge path carefully, already there were signs of mudslides where the banks fell away. He didn't want to be out too long in the dank air, his knees and back were rested but they would start up again soon, he was rarely free of the pain. Good job he hadn't had to sleep on the couch. They'd both got a good sleep and... he smiled into the misty morning,... some progress had been made. He found an area with a fair supply of dead branches and started to fill the carryall.

Daniel, meanwhile, had washed up the breakfast dishes and was playing with his cat, trailing a piece of string and hunting for a name. He disdained the obvious black cat names like Lucky, Ebony, Blackie – he wanted something unique and appropriate – "You got me into his bed, you little match-maker" he said, as she pursued the string "What can I make out of that?" His intellect engaged, he hardly noticed the passing of time.

Jack had filled the carryall and was carrying the last load to top it up when his foot slipped – one leg took the weight then the knee weakened and, unable to recover his balance, he slid over the bank. The slope was steep and slick, no purchase could he find as he rode down on his back. He tried grabbing a tree as he passed but the speed tore his fingers away – he saw another coming up on his left and dug his heels in twisting fiercely in the right direction – that did it, flung away from the downward path - his ribs slammed against the tree and he threw his arms around the bole and hung on. Momentum stopped, with a huge effort he swung over to get his stomach across the trunk and lost consciousness.

Daniel looked up from the paper he was doodling names on, wondering why he was uneasy. The cat was sleeping in front of the stove, he had a coffee in his hand, he was on holiday even if it was raining – rain! Good God it was pouring – where was Jack? He glanced at his watch, Where Was Jack?

He'd been gone three hours! He grabbed his cell phone and punched Jack's number. It rang and rang. Where was he? Why didn't he answer? He knew Jack had taken his phone, he had warned Daniel that up here, so close to wilderness, a phone was your lifeline. Panic – Daniel tried hard not to panic – he could hold his cool under fire, against any system lord that reared a snakehead – but this was Jack! He tried again, and finally...

Jack came to groggily, peering around him. For a moment he was confused, where the hell was he? He could hear a buzzing that sounded like mosquitoes – the ones that ate Jaffa for breakfast, the only time he'd brought a team mate to the cabin – Teal'c had not been a happy camper – never again – he preferred his solitary... wait a minute – hadn't he brought Daniel? Phone, the buzzing - that was it. His mind cleared and he reached for the cell phone, wondering why it was slimy.

"Jack! Where are you Jack, are you all right."

It was Daniel, what was he doing phoning – where was he? Then he realised his predicament, took in the mudslide, tree – his pain – Daniel was still talking, "Shut it, Danny." he replied, decisively, hearing the panic in Daniel's voice "I've fallen down a mudslide, I'm caught on a tree. Get up here with ropes, they're in the locker – bring the lot – I'm about..." he turned his head to assess his depth "....twenty metres down."

"Are you hurt?"

"Nothing broken" I hope, "It's pouring, and freezing - bring a flask of coffee – might be a long job. I can hang around till you get here, safe for the minute" provided the tree doesn't get washed away, it's a bit slender – indeed the tree was already leaning in the direction of down "You'll find the carryall up there, that's where I went down."

"On my way".

"Daniel...."

"Yes?"

"Turn off the phone, save the battery." The phone switched off, for once Daniel had done as he was told. He smiled wearily to himself, always a first time.

Daniel staggered up the slope, his arms aching with the weight of the ropes he'd grabbed. He was glancing to the right and left as both sides had mudslides, though the right was far steeper. His glasses were wet, misty – it was difficult to see through the driving rain – this is Minnesota rain? How could Jack stand it – the contrast with the beautiful days they had enjoyed? He'd encountered torrential rain on a Yucatan dig but this was phenomenal, it melted everything – and Jack was proud of it? He was halfway up when he saw the carryall. It was full – why hadn't Jack come home sooner? He peered over the edge and for a moment could not see, then he rubbed his glasses and spotted Jack slung over the trunk of a tree like a broken toy.

Quickly he activated the phone and was answered by a shivering Jack "God, it's cold. You up there, Danny? Can you see me?"

"Yes, I see you. I'm just... assessing."

Jack chuckled weakly; relieved his friend was near "No threats here, Danny. Only mud and rain, more mud....rain, oh did I mention mud?"

"You're delirious"

"Not yet. But might be soon. I'm hurt, Danny. Smashed into the tree with my ribs."

"I'll get to you, Jack" Daniel's voice was harsh "I'm coming down through the trees, I'll rope each one to give us a line" He attached the rope to the first tree then made his way down to the next. The mud between the trees was a little firmer so that he could plant his boots rather than slide – he hoped it would remain that way for the journey back up. He was worried about Jack's condition, would he be able to climb? One gap was too long for a rope so, halfway, he had to join two together. When he got level with Jack he had one rope left, he tied it to the tree. Jack was three metres away, looking at him, but though Daniel shouted Jack could not hear for the pounding rain.

Leaning against the tree, wet through, he reached for the phone. He didn't like the sound of Jack's voice – thready with pain.

"There's only one way to do this, Jack. I'll throw you the rope, wrap it round your arms they are going to have to take your weight. I'll swing you across." He threw the rope across and watched as Jack skeined the rope round his arms and across his shoulders, keeping away from his ribs. He worried that Jack was moving slowly, faltering as he tied the last knots to use as handgrips. Once Jack had finished, Daniel shortened the rope as much as he dared, Jack was still going to dangle over the slide until Daniel could pull him up. He gave Jack a nod, and Jack slipped sideways off the tree, grunting his pain. He slipped downwards then was caught as Daniel took the strain. God – two hundred pounds of soaking body, it felt like trying to land a whale. A dead weight. Slowly, his muscles shrieking, Daniel pulled his friend to his own level. He'd got him that far, but could he get him up to the top? He had pulled only a few metres, did he have the strength to make another twenty? He went to speak then realised Jack had passed out.

Releasing Jack's line from the tree, he wound it like a cocoon around his team mate. Attaching the end of the rope above to the cocoon, he pulled himself up to the next tree and rested. Jack had told him to make a flask of coffee, there it was - twenty metres above his head. Oh, well! Taking the rope in his hands he started pulling Jack up. The mud didn't help, the oozy stuff would have been easier. He got him up and leaned him into the tree.

A flicker of movement and Jack was conscious "I feel like hell"

"You look like it. We're heading up.""

"Way to go, Daniel" Daniel smiled, a tight little smile "Say that when we get to the top. Do you know how much you weigh – all those commissary pies, give 'em up!"

Now that Jack was back with him Daniel felt easier – they were together – this is the way they always did things, as a pair, a couple, each supporting the other. Though Jack was injured he would now be manoeuvrable. Many a time they had staggered through the Stargate with the other in their arms or over their shoulder – familiar territory. They started up the next rope together, Jack's groaning worrying Daniel. This was the longest run with the two ropes tied together. Daniel had had to divest Jack of some of his cocoon to make it easier to climb. Not that it was easy, the persistent rain was finally changing the mud to ooze just when they needed it least. Eventually Jack came to a standstill, unable to go further, his feet sliding and hands raw from hanging on. Daniel climbed over him, made it to the next tree and pulled him up hand over hand through the thick sticky mud.

Pausing to get breath Daniel said "Two more ropes, Jack. Can you climb or shall I pull."

"Let's try climb. If we go together I think I can make it" Jack's voice was quiet and he lifted a wan face at Daniel. He doesn't look good, thought Daniel , I need to get him to a doctor. Thinking sadly of their own pet doctor Napoleon far away, he realised he would have to get a local man for his friend. If they could just get back to the cabin. The next two climbs were accomplished, not easily and very, very slowly as Daniel was tiring but eventually they were on the ridge path. Jack was stumbling, Daniel trying to hold him upright with both hands but Jack insisted the wood had to go back with them.

"It's got to be dried out, can't leave it here, not after going to all that trouble" so Daniel, with one arm supporting Jack and the other hand holding the carryall, staggered down the path leaving behind the ropes and the mud – more mud than he'd ever cared to see.

At the cabin Daniel stripped Jack of his clothes, plunged him under the hot shower, and got him finally into bed. Taking a hot shower to stop the shaking, he went back in to Jack.

"We need a doctor. Where is there one?"

"Give me the phone" Daniel passed it over and Jack spoke, at great length, to someone who was obviously a friend.

"Ben Moody" he explained to Daniel, handing back the phone "Been patching me up since I was a boy. One of the old type of doctors that small rural places always had. Still in practice, though he's over seventy, he'll be along as soon as he can get away. Got a surgery full, like always." Daniel lay on the bed next to him worrying about his breathing "Don't look so anxious, it's all that mud I swallowed".

The doctor proved to be as competent as Jack had said, to Daniel's relief. He did not come till early evening, strapped Jack's ribs lightly for the night and stayed talking to him for a while, then left the room as Jack's eyes began to close. He told Daniel to bring him in for an x- ray the next morning. He checked Daniel out and gave him liniment that he reckoned was as good for humans as for horses

"You need something for those muscles, I wouldn't like to pull a Jack O'Neill up any kind of slope. You'll hurt a while, don't do more lifting or straining than you can help, for a few days." He was quiet for a moment, sipping the hot toddy Daniel had made him, then "Those scars – there are a lot more than he used to have." Daniel gazed at him, anxiously – what could he say? "and" Dr. Moody went on "some of them I don't recognize."

"I can't comment" said Daniel, uncomfortably.

"I've known Jack since he was a boy. Mended all his broken bones – even had some dealings with him when he came back from that prison in Iraq – and that was bad." Daniel nodded, he knew how bad it could be, he'd dealt with the recurrent nightmares that even now afflicted his friend.

"So what he's doing now is worse than Iraq?" the old doctor's voice was soft, caring.

"Different – but sometimes worse" was all he dare say, hoping the doctor would take the hint. The doctor did take the hint, not from the words but from the pain in the candid blue eyes. This man did not lie easily, he was bound even as Jack was bound by the secrecy of their calling. The doctor knew enough of Jack's past to accept the limits to his curiosity, and this man whose exhausted face showed the deep concern he felt for his friend was trying to be polite with negative information. He moved to go, saying lightly "I wonder what the airforce needs with an archaeologist".

Daniel smiled, tiredly "I'm also a linguist" "Ah,yes. Goes with the territory, I imagine. How many languages?"

"Twentythree..." the cat woke up and mewed "Not Cat".

The doctor laughed "Feed, play and fuss – that's what they need. Very simple."

"Feed – yes. Jack said something about getting tins of meat. Seems they need meat."

"Yes. Taurine is a substance they need, get it from mice." the doctor chuckled "As far I know they don't can mice yet. Our store sells various catfood, call in when you bringJack to the surgery."

"I will – oh and a travelling basket too."

"Orrin will set you up. He's our storekeeper, took over from his Dad a few years ago. Good lad, got a good stock."

He said his goodnights to a sleepy Jack, Daniel accompanied him to his car – it was still raining. The carryall was still sitting out in the rain where Daniel had dropped it. He'd been too tired to put it in the dry store locker, and now it was soaking. The doctor shook his head at the wet wood "That won't be of any use for a week or more. Orrin has a woodstore out back, bring some back with you. Good to have met you, Daniel. Look after him – he's a rare breed." "Don't I know it. Yes, I will" I bet you will too, thought the doctor as he drove off, and wondered.

Daniel stumbled back indoors, his shivers returning – he ached everywhere. Peering in at Jack he could see he'd fallen asleep – so, following the doctor's orders, he had another hot shower, slathered the liniment over his arms , legs and torso and dressed in sweatpants and tee. The little cat was watching him - waiting for him to go to bed? he wondered. He followed her into the bedroom where she looked at her tray, it was rather noxious – ah, better change it. He threw the noxiousness out in the rain, biodegradeable – he decided, and washed and dried the tray, filling it with more paper. Ok – he'd done the right thing, she made herself comfortable and jumped on the bed. So - presumably he could understand Cat – but could she understand him? "Chuppy?" he called. She looked up, just acknowledging his voice, and settled herself for sleep. Jack stirred "Did you say something? And what - in the name of all that's holy – is that smell?"

"The smell is the liniment for my aching limbs – oh, corpulent one!" sarcastically "I'm putting you on a diet when we get back to base, in case I ever have to carry you again...." Jack grinned, painfully.

"...and what I said was the cat's name."

"Oh, yes" disinterestedly "what is it?"

"Chupchatan." He said it loud, with accents "Chuppy – for short."

Jack's eyes opened fully, "Say again."

"Chuppy, notice the u is like the u in puss. Get it right. Her full nam is Chupchatan. It'sTurkish for matchmaker."

Jack was confused "Why?" he asked, weakly.

"Because," answered Daniel, softly "she got me into your bed." And he climbed back in beside Jack.

Jack didn't dare laugh for the pain in his ribs, so he snorted "I see – payback time is it? Well, I'm not playing – I'm not calling her matchmaker."

"Oh, come on Jack. Who's to know?"

"Presumably any passing linguist."

"Jack – it is not a word generally known – how many matchmakers do you suppose there are? I only remembered the word because I was on a dig near Salilhi, and they used to tell stories round the fire..."

"Oh – memories of summer camps

"Shut up and listen. This story was about a matchmaker – that's where the name came from, I remembered it..."

"You would – do you ever forget anything? Hey, can we get you on Showtime as the Memory Man – make a fortune..."

"...she matched the wrong girl to the magician or shaman or wise man – of those parts and he turned her into a little black cat." Daniel ran out of steam as Jack constantly interrupted his exposition. "So her name is Chuppy."

"Ok. I confess I'm not up to arguing right now. Did Doc give me a sedative?"

"Yes."

"Thought so, feel kinda tired. So you're safe tonight, memory boy!" He tried to leer but his face wouldn't perform, he was just so glad Daniel was beside him obviously intending to stay.

"I would be anyway." Daniel said softly, as he prepared to sleep, then smiled as he realised Chuppy was lying between their feet. Way to go, Chuppy!

It wasn't raining when Daniel awoke. There's nice, he thought. Jack was murmuring fretfully, Daniel felt his forehead and thought he might have a temperature – that's all we need, him with a fever! He padded into the kitchen, followed unerringly by Chuppy. Ah! No fish left. Should he get a bit more out and micro it. Then he remembered the steak, it was still in the fridge, they hadn't been able to eat more than the sandwiches Daniel had forced himself to make the previous evening. Should he give it raw? It's all very well, he told himself, for them to eat warm, raw mice but is raw, thawed steak the same sort of thing? He decided to lightly micro a piece of steak – Chuppy was delighted.

He organised cereal and toast and took it in to the bedroom. Jack was sitting up and took the proffered tray,

"How do you feel?"

Jack grimaced "Hot"

"I thought you might have a fever."

"If we had one of those medkits we take offworld, we could solve the problem. They've got medication for every conceivable condition."

"I know How many times have you used it on me, but I've got to get you into the surgery if you feel up to it. The Doc wants to x-ray the ribs, just in case."

"Yeah, I'll make it. If I've got a temp he can deal with it there. Don't want to pull him out here again." He chewed a piece of toast, thoughtfully, then "You did good, Danny" he said at last "You got me out. Couldn't have been easy – Hell, what I remember of it – it wasn't easy" He looked up at his friend "Thanks."

"Hey, it's what we do" Daniel was a little embarrassed, they did this sort of thing on a regular basis "Rescue people, save the world – again. They pay us megabucks for this."

"Not on my own patch. O)ffworld – it's sorta science fiction – here it's real life, and scary. So – thanks, my friend." Daniel could see Jack was deeply touched so he nodded and smiled. He went back to the kitchen just in time to see Chuppy, on the table, eating the rest of the cooked steak.

"Hey, that was for your lunch." She flourished her tongue round her mouth, jumped down and sauntered in to Jack. Shaking his head he ate his own breakfast and decided to shower first. His strains were beginning to ease, just as well as he didn't want to go into town smelling of liniment.

He dressed, then got Jack out of bed – "No, I don't want a shower, not with this strapping on. I'll just wash up. Have you fed Chuppy?" he almost got the pronunciation right – he does listen to me, thought Daniel, pleased.

"Yes, and she fed herself on the rest – micro'd steak is good."

"Like her master" sardonically "only the best is good enough."

"Don't think master is the right word. Slave is more like it." Jack grinned "Welcome to my world of animals, Danny."

When they were ready they left Chuppy in charge of the cabin, locked up and Daniel drove the fourwheeler into Rogan's Bluff. The sun was out, the road was passable, and they made good time. The surgery was on the main street opposite the store so Daniel parked up outside. Helping Jack into the surgery, he left him in charge of a nurse and strode across the street. Orrin was tow-haired, gangling and older than he looked.

"Hallo" said Daniel "I'm Daniel Jackson..."

What am I doing, he thought, I'm not offworld – the greeting was so instinctive that he hadn't realised he was talking to a member of his own race – but, before he had a chance to recoup, the other man said "Hi. Doc Moody said you'd be in. Glad to see ya. Whaddya need?"

"Cat basket, for travelling. Tins of food. Wood?"

"Got those" replied Orrin. He lifted down some travelling baskets, and Daniel chose one – then turned to the tins of food. Orrin started to chat

"Saw ya with the Colonel, he gonna be ok? Doc said he fell down a mudslide, they right wicked things up here."

Daniel smiled "I think he's ok. Doc's x-raying him just to make sure." He looked at all the tinned food "How do you choose?"

"Well most people just get the cheapest, on account of most cats will go get mice or rats on their own." Well, Daniel couldn't have that, showing the unerring good sense (or desire to please) of cat-lovers everywhere. He examined the tins, also the bags of dry food, until he had sorted out those that included Taurine in the ingredients. Then his eye was caught by toys, he pictured Chuppy enjoying the charms of balls, rings - various shapes of catmint-filled mouse shaped pads and chose a variety. He moved on to cat trays, cat litter? feeding bowls – stopped at the sleeping baskets but realised Chuppy liked the bed so restrained himself. He realized that, despite his aches and pains, he was enjoying himself immensely – the same enjoyment he got out of shopping for Jack. That amused him, poor Jack, superseded by a cat.

He was brought back to the present by Orrin saying "Doc's just gone out on a call so I guess the Colonel is done." He asked Orrin to fill the truck with wood, and load his purchases, paid and walked back to the surgery.

As always, when seeing Jack in the company of other people, he was aware of the magnetism that was Jack O'Neill. Talking to three young nurses, he was wearing his infectious grin that dared people not to like him – and, of course, they all fell – just like these. They glanced at Daniel resentfully as he approached, obviously to distract their charming guest – then the glances changed to interest. He'd noticed this recently, that his appearance often gave rise to interest disproportionate to his importance. He would arrive at Jack's side to become the second focus. He blamed Jack's influence on his lifestyle, which included gym training - and clothing – which Jack was quite insistent about. As a result he found himself the object of more interested eyes than he could really deal with.

"Hi, Jack" he murmured "How'd it go?"

"No more strapping, thank god. Only bruised. Shot for the temp. I'm fine. Let's go home." He said goodbye to the disappointed nurses and strode out to the truck.

"My god, Daniel. How many cats are we feeding?" He grinned and swung into the truck, letting Daniel drive. They were quiet on the way home, Jack's bonhomie had slipped once he was in the truck and Daniel could see he was tired – he didn't feel so hot himself. He'd not slept that well with the pain, and the smell of the liniment irritating his allergies – then he realised that the first few days at the cabin his allergies had not bothered him at all. Was Minnesota really the promised land? Jack always said so, but then he was biased

Back at the cabin Chuppy came to the door and stepped out onto the verandah. They covered the truck in it's slot, as neither felt like unpacking piles of wood. Indoors they flopped out on the couch.

"I have aches in places I didn't know I had." complained Jack.

"Yeah, know the feeling." Daniel sprawled, kicking off his shoes "Doc said don't do anything strenuous for a few days, I don't want to move for a week." Jack turned his head and looked at Daniel "Let's go to bed." It was either an invitation, or a statement of intention – Daniel couldn't decide which so he took Jack's rising and moving as a signal to follow him. They lay side by side, joined, after a while, by Chuppy who curled up at their feet looking content.

"Shouldn't we inform base?" Daniel asked.

Jack shook his head, "We can leave it. We have three more days. If we phone in, Dr. Fraiser will want us back at the mountain to check us out, we only need rest. We can rest here. We've got everything we need right here – haven't we?" They looked across the pillows at each other. Daniel nodded but Jack could see there was something else on his mind. He cocked an enquiring eyebrow.

"I didn't sleep well" Daniel began, slowly "The pain – and the smell...."

Jack grimaced "Tell me about it."

"I did a lot of thinking."

"Bad for you"

Chuppy gave them a – keep the noise down, trying to sleep here – look.

"Made some decisions." Daniel's eyes avoided Jack's.

"Feel like sharing?"

"This job of ours..."

"Mm?"

"One day we will go through that gate and we won't....or one of us won't....come back." Jack propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over Daniel. "We've known that all along. No guarantees, Danny – it could happen."

Daniel looked up at him "Before that happens – I want to taste you." His hand reached for Jack and pulled him down in an affirming kiss.

There was a pause for adjustment then Jack murmured, softly "If that's the taste.... when's the banquet?"

"Now!" As the feet moved, Chuppy left the bed for quieter climes.