Circling The Nexus (Part 2/2)

by WordGeek

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asw/wordgeek/nexus002.php
Summary: What if the big, honkin' space gun you've always wanted, finally fell into your lap? Everything else would be a piece of cake, right? Be careful what you wish for

Chapter 4 : Blood Toast

"OFFWORLD ACTIVATION."

Elizabeth Weir came down the steps into the control room, unsurprised to see Sergeant Harriman once again seated at his console. She made a mental note to find out for sure what time his shift ended. Did the man ever go home?

"Who is it, Sergeant?"

"Jaffa IDC, ma'am. It's Master Bra'tac."

"Open the iris, please."

Bra'tac took two steps onto the ramp and stopped at the sound of cocking weapons. He looked up to the window of the control room and called out, "Where is Hammond of Texas?"

Elizabeth laid a hand on Harriman's shoulder and said softly, "I've got this one."

"Oh, yes, ma'am." Walter swallowed hard, watching with trepidation as she descended the steps toward the gate room.

Elizabeth extended her hand and smiled graciously. "I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir, Master Bra'tac. It's so good to meet you. I've read so many wonderful things about you!"

Eyes narrowed, Bra'tac glanced at her hand, then back up at her face, then back to her outstretched hand, but he made no move to take it.

"Has Hammond of Texas fallen in battle?"

Elizabeth continued to exude warmth and welcome as she clasped her hands in front of her. "No, not at all. He's meeting with one of our highest ranking political leaders at the moment. Allow me to assist you however I can."

Bra'tac squared his shoulders. "I must speak with him immediately."

Walter watched the exchange below him as it grew more and more tense, until he couldn't sit by any longer. He opened the intercom. "Excuse me, Doctor Weir, would you like me to page Colonel O'Neill to the gate room?"

Simultaneously, both Weir and Bra'tac turned to the window and called out, "YES!" Then they returned to glaring distrustfully at one another. They were still glaring when Jack rushed into the room some minutes later, buttoning his jacket.

"Hey, ya old coot! To what do we owe the honor?"

"I have just come from Chulak. Is there somewhere we may speak, O'Neill, without this--" He gave Weir a head to toe evaluation that didn't end well. "... female present?"

"Hey, Walter," Jack called out, "can you page SG-1 to the briefing room?"

If Harriman noticed Weir's stiff body language, he gave no sign of it. "Right away, Colonel."

A moment later, his voice came over the intercom, "SG-1 to the briefing room immediately. SG-1 to the briefing room."

Hands in his pockets, Jack gestured with a tilt of his head toward the door he'd just come through, and Bra'tac silently fell into step beside him. By the time they made their way up to the briefing room, Doctor Weir was already seated in Hammond's old chair, looking calm and composed. Jack stifled a grin.

"Come right in, gentlemen, I'm sure SG-1 will be along shortly." Her smile was impeccable, just as if none of the stress in the gate room only moments before had ever occurred.

Bra'tac was almost seething as he stood behind a chair near the middle of the table.

"Can I get you anything, Bra'tac? Water, coffee?" Jack asked blithely. Under his breath, he added, "Hemlock?"

Without taking his eyes off Weir, Bra'tac replied stiffly, "I will have some water, with thanks."

Jack poured it, and then fixed himself a cup of coffee, just to have something to do until the others arrived.

Fortunately, Teal'c walked in at that moment, and strode over to Bra'tac, reaching for his forearm. He inclined his head in greeting. "Tek ma te, Master."

Bra'tac returned the salutation, and they sat together.

Jack set the water in front of Bra'tac and took the seat immediately to his right and Weir's left. It wasn't his choice so much as the fact that Jack thought Hammond would've wanted him to shield her from the fallout of her own stupidity, at least for a little while.

Carter and her dad came in next, talking together quietly, and Jack took notice of her suspiciously red nose. Nevertheless, they sat at the far end of the table next to one another, so it couldn't have gone too badly. Jack wondered if they'd discussed the other Carter and her... spouse.

"Are you here as a representative of the Tok'ra, or in your capacity as Major Carter's father?" Weir asked with a pointed smile.

"I'm both," Jacob said with a thousand megawatt grin that belied no irritation and brooked no argument.

"He's a two-star General, retired," Jack snapped under his breath. "I think he's cleared for the briefing." He was reconsidering his earlier concern to protect her. The woman had single-handedly insulted two of their most important allies inside of ten minutes; it didn't bode well for her tenure there.

He turned to Sam. "Carter, give Daniel's office a call, willya? Let's get this show on the road."

The tense silence continued through the call, relieved only by Sam and Jacob's quiet exchange about Mark's kids, much to Elizabeth's discomfiture.

A long couple of minutes later, Daniel came striding into the briefing room, a thick folder in his hand. "Sorry, I was caught up in something." He filled a cup with coffee and took the seat across from Jack, to Weir's right.

Weir watched Daniel get settled and commented airily, "It seems this meeting was called by Master Bra'tac." She turned to him now with her most earnest and understanding expression.

"What can Stargate Command do for you?"

Bra'tac turned to address Jack directly, ignoring Weir entirely. "I have come from Chulak, where I have apprised the leaders of the rebellion of the fall of Anubis, and while there, have learned that Tartarus is in a state of chaos." He nodded to Jacob. "The Tok'ra know this to be true."

Jacob nodded reluctantly. "It's true, the place is a madhouse right now, and that's all due to you, Jack. The minute you offed Anubis, thousands upon thousands of Kull warriors lost their primary command directive."

With a modest smile, Jack waved dismissively. "Happy to help out, no charge."

"From all reports," Jacob continued, mostly for Weir's benefit, "Super Soldier production is still shut down, as a result of our little visit there six months ago. Apparently, they haven't found another queen, so they haven't been able to make any more of the buggers."

"Super soldiers?" Weir asked.

"Also known as Kull warriors," Sam explained. "Creatures in impenetrable black armor, more automaton than either human or Goa'uld, and nearly impossible to kill."

"According to our intelligence," Jacob added, "when Anubis wasn't able to make any more, he started working on a way to hard wire the ability to control them into his mind somehow. Quality instead of quantity, able to be directed with nothing more than a fleeting thought. Near as we can figure, the instant Anubis ceased to exist, all the Kull warriors went wacko. Random, directionless motion, firing into thin air--"

"Taking each other out?" Jack chimed in hopefully.

"We should be so lucky," Jacob replied. "They've turned the whole complex into a carnival shooting gallery. Thanks to the symbiotes, they've got inexhaustible power reserves. It's not worth your life to go there right now."

"Is that where Ba'al is?" Daniel asked calmly, his gaze intently concentrated in front of him, as he squared the edges of the papers inside the folder.

"Yeah. He's trying to figure out how to get them all reprogrammed to respond to him."

Daniel pushed the folder toward the empty chair next to him and folded his hands together on the table as he gathered the others up with a slowly sweeping gaze. "Then it's worth it for us to go there immediately. We need to prevent Ba'al from harnessing the unstoppable power of tens of thousands of Kull warriors," he said gravely. His eyes landed squarely on Jack. "Don't you agree?"

Before Jack could answer, Jacob stated flatly, "It's suicide."

"Not if we are well-prepared," Bra'tac said firmly. All eyes in the room focused on him. "Thousands of rebel Jaffa have already begun to descend upon Tartarus, to make use of the confusion in order to defeat Ba'al once and for all. The fleet will arrive there within the day."

"How many ships do we have at our disposal?" Teal'c asked solemnly.

"Five Ha'taks, thirty Al'kesh, and ten squadrons of gliders," Bra'tac reported, his eyes sparkling with determination.

Teal'c nodded thoughtfully. "It may, in fact, not be suicide; it is possible we might even succeed."

"How's Dakara fit into all this?" Jack asked. "If my good buddy Ba'al's on Tartarus, why bother with Dakara?"

"His vast forces are split between those two locations," Bra'tac stated.

"Only those two?"

"A smattering of others, but not in sufficient enough numbers to make any difference," he replied. "Once Ba'al is dead, the troops he has stationed at Dakara to guard it will capitulate."

"What if they don't surrender?" Weir asked, her voice tightly laced with concern.

"Those who do not will be killed," Teal'c reported evenly.

Weir paled, aghast at the implication. "These are your own people you're speaking of?" she asked.

"They are."

"They've undergone generations of psychological programming to believe the Goa'uld are gods," Daniel explained.

"Those who wish to join us will be welcomed," Teal'c assured her gravely. "Those who do not--"

"Will be killed," she finished, horrified nearly beyond speech. "I can't sanction genocide."

"Then you'll be condemning not only the Jaffa, but the rest of the galaxy, to death or eternal slavery, Elizabeth," Daniel said quietly. He'd used her first name intentionally, to make what he had to say personal. That's where he'd gone wrong with Hammond all those years ago; he hadn't made it personal, hadn't made him feel it in his gut.

"That's all the Goa'uld will tolerate," he continued. "Those who refuse to serve them are killed, and not mercifully. The physically beautiful ones are turned into hosts and forced to face a near eternity as passive observers to their own lives, condemned to endure every atrocity the Goa'uld commits against others, using the hosts' own hands and bodies.

"I was like you once," Daniel said, holding her captive with his quiet voice, unchallenged by the others at the table. "Naïve, unprepared for the enormity of what's out there. Beauty and wonder, yes, but also unimaginable horror." His voice became even softer as he added, "This isn't a case of humanity thinking itself superior, Elizabeth. Ba'al has to be stopped, at all costs, or countless hundreds of billions of people will pay for our indecision today, with their lives. Their very souls."

Jack's gut twisted, hearing Daniel talk about the innocent, inexperienced man he wasn't anymore, as if he were speaking of someone dear to him who had passed away. He wasn't far off. Jack missed that man too, all the more for the part he'd played in his demise.

His gaze flickered over to Weir, who still seemed mesmerized by Daniel's voice and his words, as if under a spell. Perhaps she was.

The room held it's collective breath while they waited to see if Daniel had won her over or not.

"This isn't a decision I feel qualified to make," she finally said, almost apologetically.

Daniel's lips quirked up a fraction into a sad smile. "No," he agreed. "You're not."

The weight that settled over the room was palpable, and seeing the horror of it in her expression reminded Jack of how innocent they'd all been years ago when this started.

"Do you know how to get in touch with Hammond?" he asked quietly.

She managed to pull her eyes away from Daniel long enough to nod in Jack's direction, and without a word, she headed into her office. She returned moments later with a slip of paper, which she handed to Daniel.

He retrieved the speaker phone from the desk in the corner and slid it into the middle of the conference table. He dialed the number and handed the paper back to her.

Sitting as still as statues, they all listened as the phone rang.

After three rings, "Hammond."

"Good afternoon, General, this is Elizabeth Weir. SG-1, Master Bra'tac, and Jacob Carter are here with me."

"Sounds like a full house. What do you have, Doctor Weir?"

"I'll let Colonel O'Neill bring you up to speed, General," she said, wisely relinquishing the floor to Jack with a nod of her chin.

Jack leaned forward onto his folded arms and spoke in the direction of the speaker box. "General, we have confirmation of the condition of Tartarus and Dakara, from both Jacob and Bra'tac; it's just like the mirror guys said it'd be, except it's Ba'al, and not the other snake, Nehru, which isn't really too surprising when you think about it--"

"Nerus," Daniel corrected automatically under his breath.

"Whatever," Jack said dismissively. "Bra'tac says the resistance has a fleet large enough to get the job done and is already en route to Tartarus. All we need's a go from the White House to join the fray."

"I happen to be on the way there for a meeting in just a couple of minutes. I'll brief the President. Go ahead and gear up, and I'll be in touch within the hour."

"Affirmative. Oh, and sir? When we get back, I'm gonna want to talk with you some more about that Bill Gates guy--"

"Denied again, Colonel. Let it go, that's an order. Hammond out."

"Yes, sir." Jack frowned peevishly at the speaker on the table.

When the tone indicated the line had gone dead, he glanced around to find all eyes upon him, and he shrugged, clearing his throat. "Okay, people, we've done all we can do at this point. You heard the man-- if we're doing this, what do we need?"

Daniel left without comment, presumably to pack some books, and then some more books.

Carter started reeling off items on her way out the door, trusting that someone was paying attention; Jack sent Jacob and a confused Bra'tac after her to take care of that.

Then he and Teal'c headed for the armory, where they checked out enough munitions to outfit a small army, which Jack supposed they were.

Forty minutes later, they'd put together everything they could think they'd need, and then some. It was piled up in the corner of the gate room, where Siler had been charged with getting it all onto only one FRED.

Jackets and vests had been piled on chairs around the conference table in the briefing room, and even Daniel had returned without prompting. There was nothing to do now but sit around and wait for the phone call.

"They're not gonna let you off Bill Gates, Jack," Daniel said absently as he squinted through a small loupe to study a still photo he'd made from the Antarctica footage.

"Well they should," Jack snapped, tossing his pencil onto the pad he'd been doodling on. They needed to get a move on, or he was going to go nuts. "If it weren't for him, we'd've beaten the Goa'uld on our own a coupla years ago. And besides, at a bare minimum, somebody's gotta pay for that Millennium Edition crap."

"I'll second that," Sam said quietly as she passed behind him with an extra large styrofoam cup.

"Don't encourage him," Daniel mumbled.

"Still," she said as she finished circling the table to take her seat beside Daniel, "when I think that Microsoft wouldn't even be in the picture, if Gary Kidall had made it to that first meeting with IBM the way he did in the mirror reality..." She shook her head in disbelief at the tiny divergence which had made all the difference. "Microsoft has had a stranglehold on innovation since it's inception. What other changes might there have been --globally-- if Bill Gates hadn't been able to take advantage of that missed meeting back in 1980?"

Jack had tracked her as she walked around the table, taking the opportunity to roll his neck at the same time. His headache was only a shadow of what it had been in Antarctica, but it wasn't as gone as he'd have liked it to be. He nodded at the drink in her hand. "Carter, with that bladder-buster, you're gonna spend the entire trip in the head," he admonished.

"Are you kidding? As souped up as that cargo ship is, we'll be there in next to no time. Besides," she said with a suppressed grin, "I'm not the one with the record in the bathroom. Sir."

"That reminds me," Daniel muttered. He slipped his glasses back on and headed for the desk in the corner. He opened the comm line to the gateroom and said, "Um, Sergeant Siler? Can you double check the MREs for contraband, please?"

Siler's voice came back, "Already done, Doctor Jackson. No chili or burritos."

"Thank you," Daniel replied airily.

"Very funny," Jack snarled.

*****

The door to the Oval Office opened before Hammond had even been waiting a whole minute, and Henry Hayes emerged, his face split with a wide grin. "There's the man of the hour!"

George smiled, taking Hayes's offered hand. "No, sir, Mister President. That would be SG-1."

Hayes closed the door, gesturing to the sofa closest to the door, and they sat opposite one another across a cherry coffee table.

"SG-1 has done some amazing things, and I'm happy to give them full credit for all of them. But I'm willing to bet it would've all gone down very differently up there without George Hammond's influence, right from the very beginning."

"I've tried to do my part."

"Perfect segue, George." Hayes grinned slyly. "Thank you."

They'd been friends for a long time; this was not a new tactic. "Why do I feel as though I've just walked into the lions' den?" Hammond said wryly.

"You have. I want to talk to you about that job I mentioned the other day. My god, was that only yesterday?" he asked rhetorically as he glanced around his new office. "Time flies when you're in a planet-wide sci-fi crisis, I guess. I should probably try to get used to that...

"Anyway, it's an enormous responsibility, a thankless job you'll never get any credit for, and the biggest headache on the planet."

"That's quite the marketing spiel, Mister President."

Hayes shrugged. "I'm trying to be straight with you. I figure it's the least I can do, since I won't accept 'no, thank you' for an answer. What do you think of the name, 'Homeworld Security'?"

"Sir--"

"Don't 'sir' me, George." Hayes frowned. "As long as you wear the Air Force's uniform, you're mine, and the truth is, I need you in that spot. This country needs you-- your planet needs you. You're the only man who could possibly do it."

"Excuse me, Mister President, but I don't even know what you're proposing. What exactly is your vision for something called 'Homeworld Security'?"

"It's everything you've been doing for the last seven years, with more pay and less red tape, since you'll be calling the shots. I'm proposing that you run it all, but from here in DC, where you and I can get together regularly. Your area of responsibility will include Weir at the SGC, the Alpha site, the Prometheus, and the F-302's at Groom Lake, bringing the new Antarctic base online, all of it. "

For half a heartbeat, Hammond's mouth dropped open in shock, before he covered for the lapse and closed it. "That's..."

"Enormous?"

"In a word, sir, yes."

"That's exactly the word I was looking for." Hayes beamed, as though the job offer had just been accepted.

"Look, George, let's be brutally honest. Weir's background in negotiation and diplomacy, as well as her ability to pick up languages quickly, makes her eminently qualified for the position she holds. Eventually. But in the last twenty hours, I've come to understand that the picture is so much bigger than what I first assumed after reading the mission reports. That was never more clear to me than when I was standing toe-to-hologram with that Anubis fellow, right here in my office.

"She'll be perfect for bringing the program public, when it's time to do that, but in the meantime, she's going to need competent backup and a significant ramping-up period. She'll need someone she can rely on, to help her make the really tough decisions."

George smiled, allowing a hint of victory to color it. "Thank you for the segue, Mister President." He saw Hayes roll his eyes, but didn't pause to let him get a word in edgewise.

"I learned just before coming here, that there've been some developments at the SGC..." He did his best to quickly summarize the briefing Jack had given him as he was in traffic on his way to the meeting. "... so whichever nations end up comprising this oversight committee you're considering, Mister President, it'll look a darn sight better for us if we don't have to rush right in there next week, trying to explain another imminent threat we could have prevented.

"And it will never be easier to act; once this committee's in place, getting agreements from eleven separate nations will be a study in gridlock." George leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees to convey the urgency of the situation to his friend, seated on the opposing couch. "It'll make the United Nations Security Council look like Romper Room.

"Pretty face or not, when word gets out that we've been keeping the Stargate Program under wraps all this time," Hammond continued, "first there's going to be panic, then there's going to be worldwide rancor. How much better would it be, if we could present the program to the world as a completely successful one? Show them a galaxy at peace, thanks to our efforts over the last seven years? A lot of good men and women have died during that time, and what better memorial to them, than for their families and the world to know their sacrifice wasn't in vain?"

Hayes studied George for a long, silent moment, then leaned over to the phone on the coffee table and buzzed his secretary. "Beth, would you come in here and get this video contraption going for me, please?"

Moments later, halfway across the country, one of the techs at the SGC was making the President very unhappy.

"No picture?" Hayes repeated. He was sure the tone of his voice conveyed his disappointment to the dark screen on the desk in front of him, and hopefully the person on the other end of the line as well.

"No, Mister President, I'm sorry," the technician's voice replied. "Sergeant Siler was pulled away from the videoconferencing installation for another critical project. Would you like everyone to move into Doctor Weir's office, in order to utilize the existing video link, or will the audio capability in the briefing room be sufficient?"

Hayes pursed his lips in annoyance. "No sense cramming everyone into one small office, Sergeant. Audio will be fine. Can you patch me through?"

"Certainly, sir. Just one moment, please."

Hayes whispered to George beside him. "You know, I was really getting used to the whole Star Trek-ish video link thing--"

"Good afternoon, Mister President. This is Elizabeth Weir."

"Doctor Weir, I understand you've got some company with you. I'd hoped to be able to have a face-to-face meeting, but I understand Sergeant Siler had other duties to attend to."

Weir glared at Jack, obviously considering giving him up for ordering Siler to pack the FRED. Ultimately, she elected a gentler course of action and arched a you owe me big time eyebrow in his specific direction.

"Yes, sir, he was pulled in order to investigate a report of... potentially toxic substances in the gateroom." She was gratified when O'Neill had the grace to look sheepish. "That's been taken care of, sir. I'll make sure that establishing the video link in the briefing room is the Sergeant's very next project."

"I'd appreciate that, Doctor. Please introduce your guests."

"It would be my pleasure, Mister President. Master Bra'tac of the Jaffa has brought us word of unrest that seems to be the direct result of the recent activity in Antarctica, and General Jacob Carter joins us from the Tok'ra High Council."

"Jake, you old son of a gun," Hayes said jovially. "How the hell are ya?"

Jacob grinned. "Never better, Mister President. Congratulations on the new job."

"Thank you. There's a lot you and I have to catch up on, old friend. My place, once things have settled down?"

"I'll look forward to it, sir."

"Let's get down to business, shall we? General Hammond and I have discussed the fact that the current situation seems to match the intelligence SG-1 brought back from the-- what did you call it again, George?"

Hammond's voice was slightly muffled, as though he was not as near the speaker. "The mirror reality, Mister President."

"Right."

"If I might jump in, Mister President?" Elizabeth asked.

"Go ahead, Doctor."

"I know I'm in the minority here, in that --with the possible exception of Doctor Jackson-- I'm the only person in the discussion who isn't a member of a military. But I don't think I'd be doing the job you asked me to do, if I didn't at least try to be the voice of reason to whoever will listen."

When no one interjected, she continued, "It's been my experience that the best way to stop the proliferation of weapons is to try and end the need for them. If we examine the mandate for the Stargate Program, it seems that this country's history of manifest destiny has continued out to the rest of the galaxy, completely in secret from the entire planet."

She paused for a breath in the starkly silent room. She didn't hold out a lot of hope they'd see things her way, but she had to give it a shot. "Instead of going in with guns blazing, what about negotiating with this Ba'al person?"

Everyone in the room simply stared at her. It was Bra'tac who finally said what they were probably all thinking. "The Goa'uld do not negotiate. They murder, torture and enslave."

"The really cranky ones kill you over and over again," Jack offered with more than a touch of cynicism.

"Your suggestion is an honorable one, Doctor Weir," Daniel said, "but in my experience, not practical. As I said on board the Prometheus, we must strike first and fast and decisively. Only then will Earth and the rest of this galaxy be safe."

"Doctor Jackson, I have more than 280 million constituents to consider, a little more than half of whom actually voted for me, plus the added burden of a global population without a clue. I'm essentially acting on behalf of people who never even had a chance not to vote for me. On the one hand, I have you, a seasoned, professional archeologist, offering me military strategy against an alien threat, something that hasn't happened before in the history of EVER. If I base my decisions solely on your wishes, doesn't that make you pretty much identical to these Goold you keep warning me about?"

"I actually hadn't thought of it that way," Daniel replied thoughtfully.

"I know, Doctor. Evaluating the pros and cons is a big part of my job. That's all I'm asking," Hayes pleaded. "Give me the time to do my job."

"That's not up to me, Mister President," Daniel said evenly. "That's up to the Goa'uld. None of us will get a chance to try to explain 'pros and cons' to him, when he brings his fleet here to enslave us."

Jack winced at the dripping sarcasm. "What Daniel means, sir, is that due to the nature of what the SGC is, and the kinds of issues we come up against every day, you need to give us some latitude to act in the moment, because that's the reality here-- life and death decisions that turn in the blink of an eye--"

"I don't need you to interpret for me," Daniel snapped.

"Yeah, apparently you do," Jack growled right back.

"You guys both know this is still my first week, right?"

"Ah, yes, sir, but this is just another day at the office for SG-1," Jack offered with a withering glare across the table at Daniel.

"Ba'al will come here," Daniel insisted, his annoyance at Jack's interference quite clear to those in the room and probably on the other end of the phone line as well.

"Daniel, he may not know what Anubis was after, or even where he went," Sam said reasonably, trying to dial back the intensity a bit. "The Goa'uld aren't known for sharing and keeping each other in the loop."

"Indeed they are not," Teal'c agreed. "They are known for placing spies in one another's ranks, which achieves the same result, if I understand the idiom correctly."

Excited, sensing vindication just around the corner, Daniel jumped on it. "Anubis might've sent word. When it started going badly, when he knew he was going to be destroyed, would he have gotten off a message?"

"Not likely," Jack said tightly.

Daniel addressed Teal'c again, effectively cutting Jack out of the discussion. "One of his people? The spy, perhaps."

"Perhaps," Teal'c allowed. "There is also the matter of the weapon," he added, looking straight at Jack, while playing his only real card.

"Weapon?" Hayes interjected.

Jack screwed up his face. He'd really been hoping to soft pedal this particular issue. "Yes, sir," he replied reluctantly. "On Dakara. Something about... destroying all life in the galaxy, or some such thing."

"That's--"

"Yeah, I know, sounds bad, huh?" Jack agreed. "Don't worry, sir, we've got the crack team of Carter and Carter on it. They'll have that baby dismantled and safe as... safe things... before you can even blink an eye."

Sam's eyes grew wide, and her dad patted her hand reassuringly.

"Oh?"

"Yeahsureyabetcha. They've blown up a sun, for cryin' out loud, there's nothing these two --technically three, I guess-- can't do. It's all under control, sir. You can trust SG-1."

There was a long silence from the speaker phone, and then Hayes asked, "Jake, what's your opinion about all this, from your unique perspective?"

Jacob leaned forward toward the speaker in the center of the table and laced his fingers together. "Mister President, with all due respect to Doctor Weir, if you send a team of negotiators to Ba'al's stronghold, you'll never see them again. They'll be tortured for information and then disposed of. Danny's right, unfortunately. As dangerous as this scheme is, I don't think you can afford to not pursue it."

Another pause while Hayes digested the comments. "Colonel O'Neill, I gather you're on board with Doctor Jackson's 'dangerous scheme'? That this is our best chance to get rid of the major players, once and for all?"

Jack bristled at the President's assertion that the mission was Daniel's, except that he couldn't deny that Daniel had been its most outspoken proponent from the start, and how messed up was that?

Grudgingly, he replied, "Yes I do, sir."

"Do you concur, George?"

"Yes, Mister President, I do."

There was another long pause while Hayes finished examining all the angles. "I don't mean to be a negative Nellie, Colonel, but how quickly can you train John Shepherd on the use of the chair in case --god forbid-- something goes wrong during the mission? Let's face it, if you're out of the picture, Earth is left high and dry."

Jack shrugged. "Not a problem, sir. I'll have Walter track him down before we go. Easy enough to verbally give him the nuts and bolts."

Hayes sat hunched forward on the edge of the sofa, forearms resting across his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. This was, no doubt, the most difficult decision he'd had to make in his short career as President. So far, he seemed to be making globally-impacting life or death decisions at the rate of one every couple of hours, and he hadn't even tried to balance the federal budget yet. No wonder George was bald.

He took a deep sigh and let it out slowly. "Then it sounds like you have a go for Dakara, Colonel O'Neill."

George leaned forward as well to contribute his two cents. "Godspeed, SG-1"

"Thank you, sirs."

Hayes closed the connection and leaned back against the sofa. "Are they always like that?"

George didn't even pretend to not know who he was taking about. "No. Usually you can't tell where one leaves off and the other begins. But I believe their mission to the mirror reality may have caused some discord between them."

"Will it hamper the mission?"

George frowned. "Over the last seven years, I've seen SG-1 triumph under impossible odds, Mister President, due in large part to the relationship between those two men. They offset each other in ways that balance the best of what both of them bring to the table. I have to believe they'll pull it off this time as well, that they won't let whatever's happened in the other reality affect them here in this one."

"I hope to god you're right, George. We have a lot riding on them."

*****

All of SG-1 were sliding into their jackets as Jack looked around, rubbing his hands together, and asked, "Do we have a plan?"

"Kill Ba'al." Jacob grinned.

Jack blinked and thought about it for a moment, then said, "Elegant in its simplicity."

The intercom crackled to life. "Colonel O'Neill, I have Major Sheppard on the line."

Jack turned and poked the comm. "Thanks, Walter, you're a peach."

He grabbed the receiver. "Sheppard? This is O'Neill--" He frowned. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know why the hell you're being transferred, Major. Now listen up--"

Weir approached Jacob, her arms folded across her chest. "The plan?" she said softly. "Rather light on the details, don't you think?"

"We find the details only serve to worry Jack," Jacob confided quietly. "We like to keep that kind of stress to a minimum, if at all possible."

Jack hung up the phone and narrowing his eyes, wagged a finger in Jacob's direction. "I heard that."

"I see," Weir said.

"You do?" Jack and Jacob said together.

Looking between the two of them, Weir forced a tight smile. "Not really."

*****

Gating through to the Land of Light took mere moments, but it took nearly an hour for Bra'tac to bring the ship in from its hiding place, and then for the six of them to transfer the gear off the FRED. They sent the slowly lumbering machine back through the gate, and took Tuplo's good wishes with them for safety in their flight and success in their mission.

Teal'c took the controls and set a course for Chulak, with Sam flying shotgun. Behind them, Jacob and Bra'tac talked in quiet tones of the upcoming battle.

"This will not be a quick journey," Bra'tac stated. "We would be more comfortable in the rear compartment."

"I really didn't want to spend the entire trip sitting in the refrigerated section," Jacob groaned, nodding his head toward the back. Whatever feud Jack and Daniel were in the middle of was going to suck them all in eventually, if they didn't work it out between them soon. Seeing that Bra'tac didn't get the reference, he capitulated. "Yeah, okay, fine."

Daniel had just finished sorting through the pile of hastily-stowed gear in order to find his pack, when Bra'tac came sweeping into the aft section, his cape furling behind him, followed by Jacob. He watched as they settled into the nook he'd been planning to hole up in, the one on the opposite side of the hold from Jack.

With a sigh, he knelt nearer to Jack than he'd have liked, and opened the rucksack, sorting through the photographs he'd made of the Ancient writing at the Antarctic base. He'd brought the pictures, not because he expected to find any kind of insight regarding the writing, but because he knew that even at the ship's increased speed, it was going to take the better part of a day to get to Chulak and then Tartarus and Dakara after that, and that was a damn long time to try to avoid someone in such a confined space, especially without props.

Daniel glanced at Jack from the corner of his eye with equal parts anger and longing. Jack had been jovial and amusing, in a juvenile 'are we there yet?' kind of way while they'd been transferring the cargo, but now he'd evidently used up all his quips, because, crossword in hand and sprawled nearby on a stack of sleeping pads, he'd turned silent and sullen.

Daniel didn't deserve the treatment Jack'd been giving him-- it seemed like a total condemnation of Daniel's very existence. It'd struck Daniel as abusive and belittling and arrogant in the extreme. That Jack thought he had the right to make that kind of judgment about Daniel's value and worth as a person, based solely upon choices he'd made as a teenager, was mind-boggling.

Equally as confusing, was the fact that the anger and hurt --however justified-- did little to dissuade him from the yearning he'd felt for the man for so long, a need so deep and omnipresent, it made him ache.

He knew he could never learn to un-feel the feelings, the prickly love/hate that had drawn him to Jack in the first place, infuriating man that he was. It'd taken years to shape the relationship they had, dying and living, and all the stupid crap in between. It'd all been under control, until they'd walked through that damned mirror and found a Jack and Daniel who'd found the courage to take a chance on each other.

If only they'd decided to turn back, instead of going forward. If only Daniel hadn't followed his Jack into the men's room there. If only...

But that way lay madness, the systematic unraveling of a life, event by event, until each occasion was stripped clean of its ability to hurt, or to cause embarrassment or pain. How was he supposed to fall out of love with Jack? Now that Jack was forever lost to him, how could he fill the spaces in his life and heart, the ones Jack had always filled, spaces that had been pried open with the promise of more and always and together?

Filling the empty places with someone else seemed a reasonable course of action, logically speaking, but who else could even come close to encompassing the bizarre combination of what he and Jack were to each other? Part brother, part father figure, part dashing matinee idol-- there was only one Jack O'Neill --two l's-- and he was now a part of Daniel's past.

He simply needed to move on. The sooner he flushed Jack out of his system, the sooner he could get on with his life and find somebody new.

Sam's laughter rang out from the front of the ship, and for half a second, Daniel thought, huh. Such an obvious choice. She was smart and beautiful, and he cared for her. They were both hurting; they'd both seen things at the mirror world they'd never be able to replicate here in their reality. But could he ever feel enough for her? And could either of them ever get past the knowledge that they were both settling for second best? He shook the idea loose. It was pretty arrogant to think she might feel anything for him. Besides, she had Pete--

Jack suddenly looked up then, completely taking him by surprise, and Daniel realized he'd been staring at Jack full-on. He blurted out the first thing that occurred to him. "So how much back-pedaling did you have to do with Hammond?" he asked softly.

Jack was startled that Daniel was even speaking to him, after their little disagreement on the President's conference call, and his brain farted. "Back-pedaling about what?"

"About the fact that the other Jack and Daniel were not only involved, but actually m--" At Jack's guilty expression, Daniel sat back on his heels with a heavy heart and guessed, "You didn't tell him, did you."

Finally with the program, Jack gathered himself up to a fully sitting position, sputtering in a low whisper, "I wanted to! I tried! But he cut me off before I could--"

"Save it, Jack," Daniel said bitterly. He didn't know why he felt so let down. After all, it scarcely mattered anymore. Except that Jack's briefing of Hammond had happened before the debacle in his truck, when things had still been on track for them to be together. Or at least that's what he'd thought. But now it seemed that Jack had never intended to tell Hammond about their doubles. Or about them.

Shaking his head, Daniel added softly, "That's just great. No wonder you were so willing to flush us at the first sign of trouble. You had zero investment." It was worse than a betrayal; it was denial, and that hurt a lot. "Doesn't matter now anyway, does it," he said tersely. "Probably for the best."

Before Jack could reply, Daniel gathered up his photographs, journal, and pen and headed for the front of the ship, in a valiant effort to put as much distance between him and Jack as possible. His only solace was knowing this would be their final mission together, and soon he'd be out from under the heartbreaking torment of having to face the man every day.

Jack watched Daniel stalk away, fighting the urge to run after him, yell at him that he was way off base with his grossly inaccurate and unfair theories.

Except that, of course, that he wasn't.

As soon as the accusatory words were out of Daniel's mouth, Jack knew he'd hit on the truth of it. If he'd already been out to Hammond, already committed to the idea of him and Daniel as a couple because someone else knew besides the two of them, he would've had a reason to fight harder to get over his initial reaction to Daniel's little trip down memory lane. But they'd been on a deadline to gate out, and Jack's mental pictures of a wildly wanton teenaged Daniel Jackson participating in quasi-public sex, with anyone who showed an interest, had tripped him up good. It was just easier to give up and stop thinking about it as an option.

Just as he'd done with Sara, when Charlie died, it was easier to close up and run away, than to fight for what was his.

And the ironic thing was that finding out Daniel had slept around 15 or 20 years earlier hadn't caused Jack to love him any less; it'd just made him feel... outgunned.

*****

"I wish I could be more specific," Sam said.

She and Jacob were sitting together in the aft section, in order to give Teal'c and Bra'tac a chance to do go through their part of the plan one last time. Daniel was dozing in the far corner with his back to them, and the Colonel had wandered to the front of the ship some time ago.

"I don't have a detailed time line, and things have happened so fast since we got back. In the mirror reality, Selmak died right after the Dakara mission, but it was in the late summer, months from now," she said softly.

This was distressing to hear, for a lot of reasons Jacob didn't really want to go into with his daughter at the moment. "Y'know, you can't just go down to the corner store and pick up a new symbiote, Sam. There simply aren't that many Tok'ra to go around. You have to be prepared for the possibility--"

"No," she said stubbornly. "I'm not ready to let you go. There has to be a way."

He smiled, cupping her cheek. He owed the Tok'ra a lot, not the least of which was his relationship with his grown daughter, but now he only hoped there'd be time to put what he'd learned from that into practice. "Is it selfish of me to say that's kinda nice to hear?"

She pulled away from his mollifying hand, determined to pursue this. "This sounds so cold, but couldn't Selmak just... leave you, while he still has the energy to do it without releasing the toxins? I mean, you wouldn't be Tok'ra anymore, but you'd be alive."

Jacob frowned. "That is cold, Sam. Selmak saved my life. I should've died five years ago."

"I know, it's just..." she blew out a breath and regrouped. "I was hoping if I got back here in time, gave you some warning that it was likely to happen, there'd be a way to do something to make events occur differently somehow."

"This mirror reality really did a number on you, didn't it?" he observed. "You can tell me, I've got clearance." The smile he put on the words did little to reassure her.

Sam smiled back, but her heart wasn't in it. She thought about telling him all of it; about how it felt to watch her double kiss Janet like a loving partner, that Cassie was the daughter they'd both raised, and that she was having a child of her own. But she hadn't really had time to process all of it herself, to figure out how she felt about everything, or where she wanted to go from here.

"Let's just say, I had a glimpse of one possible future, and now I have some decisions to make. I'm forty-two, Dad, it's about time I figured out if the Air Force is enough for me."

"Something you want to tell me?"

"Not yet. Still thinking."

"Fair enough." He cleared his throat nervously. "I didn't really wanted to say anything yet, but in light of these developments..." he sighed deeply and pushed on. "The, uh, Tok'ra, as a race, are dying, Sam. We've had no queen since Egeria, and we've lost a lot of our number in the war with the Goa'uld."

"None of that's a secret," she said. "What aren't you saying?"

He shrugged and looked away awkwardly. "That we've had to take some pretty drastic steps, in order to preserve even a fraction of what we --they-- are."

"Dad?"

Jacob blew out a tense breath. "There are only a few thousand of us left. In order to preserve our culture, we're going to have to start reproducing sexually."

"Oh my god, that's..." she was stunned, there was no other word for it. "Harcecis. Are you--"

"Yeah, I know. It's not a perfect plan, by any means, but it's that or let ourselves die out through attrition. We can't pass on one hundred percent of our genetic memory, but we can try to preserve the essence of what we are."

"And... that means you--" she was surprised at how little she wanted to actually be having this conversation. She winced. "They'd be my sibling? Mine and Mark's?" She could feel the grimace on her own heated face, and she struggled to control it with limited success.

"Siblings, probably," he sighed with regrettable stress on the plural. "We'd be attempting to rebuild an entire race, y'know."

"What?" she choked out.

Jacob closed his eyes briefly before continuing. "Oh, there's more. There's a three to one ratio of female hosts to male hosts."

Sam tried to stifle her gasp. "Three? Wives?"

"Yeah." He winced, glad Daniel still looked to be asleep.

"At your age?" The moment it was past her lips, she regretted it and clapped a hand over her mouth, wishing she could call it back.

"Hey!" he frowned, adding in a gruff whisper, "That's enough, young lady. Do you think I wanted to talk about my sex life with my little girl?"

"Sorry," she said, failing to hide her amusement over his offended discomfiture. "A harem. You've got a harem!"

"It's a polygamous familial cluster," he admonished sternly under his breath. "They've been working on this for a while. One of the problems has always been trying to establish colonies separate enough to remain healthy from disease, once all the symbiotes are gone, yet close enough together for defense. It's a fact of life that the war with the Goa'uld keeps us on the move almost constantly. If we can bring them down with this mission, the Tok'ra can finally settle and put down roots for the first time in centuries. Then comes the task of actually making it work..."

He was grimly serious, and she realized he wasn't nearly as okay with this as he was trying to appear. She could feel her cheeks flushing with sympathetic embarrassment for him. "I-I don't know what to say."

"The less the better, please," he grumbled.

*****

Seven hours and two MREs after taking off from the Land of Light, they were orbiting Chulak, and Jack was trying to avert domestic violence. From what he could ascertain, it seemed that Rya'c --staging a little teenage rebellion of his own-- had already shipped out with the rebel fleet bound for Tartar Sauce, intending to take out Ba'al's Super Soldier factory all by his big, bad self.

Based on Teal'c's looming posture and very vocal displeasure, Jack gathered no one had seen fit to mention this little detail to the big guy. He couldn't blame Teal'c for being pissed off.

"He is no different than you were at his age," Bra'tac admonished in a more than parental tone. "He is a man, Teal'c, a warrior. And he fights for his people. To further the cause you yourself began!" he thundered. "You have no right to deny him his place in our victory!"

Teal'c firmly believed Rya'c would be killed, fulfilling the prophecy from the Mirror Reality, and he was in no way interested in taking that chance. "He is my SON!" he roared through clenched teeth. "The risk is too great--"

"The risk is no different for us all," Bra'tac said heavily, dark eyes glittering as he looked around the tiny ship at their small group. "There is a chance we shall all die this day. But our cause is just, and circumstances have never been more in our favor. Millions of our brothers are counting on each of us to do our part. If we are to die... then we die free."

Jack winced. He'd never been fond of the whole Klingon 'today is a good day to die' routine.

Bra'tac thrust out his arm defiantly. There was a long, silent moment during which Jack wasn't entirely sure Teal'c wasn't gonna take a swing at the old guy. Judging by the look on his face --mouth down-turned, nostrils flaring-- Teal'c wasn't sure until the last minute either. Eventually, Teal'c grabbed his forearm, snarling, "You will not die this day, old man, and neither will Rya'c. I will make certain of it."

With a friendly sneer, Bra'tac grunted, "And who will watch out for you, eh, Teal'c?"

The proximity alarm sounded just then, letting them know their ride was waiting. There was a shuffling of weaponry onto the ring platform, and then Teal'c and Bra'tac ringed aboard the Ha'tak that waited off their starboard bow. Once its passengers were received, it immediately opened a hyperspace window and vanished, to join up with the rest of the fleet bound for Tartarus.

Jack rubbed his hands together and surveyed the three remaining members of their party. "Okay. Who's up for a hand of gin?"

"Love to," Jacob said. "God knows the Tok'ra aren't much for fun and games. But I have a wardrobe fitting in about twenty minutes."

"Wardrobe, ya say?"

"Well, I can't exactly impersonate Enki dressed in my Tok'ra suedes, now, can I."

"Who?" Jack asked, looking straight at Daniel for the translation. "Inky?"

"Enki, also known as E-engura, meaning 'house of the subterranean waters'." Daniel's lip curled as he continued, "He was the god of wisdom and magic, god of life and replenishment, lord of--"

"I'm afraid we're going to have to skip the history lesson, Danny, sorry," Jacob said hurriedly.

He turned to Sam. "You wanna give me a hand?"

She followed him into the cargo hold, to gather up the items he'd be taking with him.

"We're monitoring all the usual comm channels, but we're going to maintain radio silence if at all possible," Sam said, helping him drag the crates into the center of the rings.

"Good. Wouldn't do for my lowly escort to be mouthing off, as if he were the Great and Powerful Oz, now would it." He grinned as his daughter gave him a hug and stepped back to send the rings to the waiting Al'kesh off their port side.

Jack glanced down the corridor from Jake to Carter and then back to Daniel, who sat smirking in the copilot's seat. "What didn't he want us to know about good ol' Inky?"

Daniel cleared his throat quietly. Sam's muted outburst had awakened him, and before he could fall back asleep, he'd heard a little more than he'd really wanted to, but Jack didn't need to know that.

"Enki was also the lord of the waters and lord of semen. He was generally thought to have been responsible for fertilizing the earth itself."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Oh, really?" he murmured. "Interesting persona to choose."

Sam slid into the pilot's seat and maneuvered the scout ship into the corresponding escort position, relative to the other Tel'tak.

"What'd I miss?" she asked over her shoulder, glancing between them.

Daniel looked expectantly towards Jack, leaving it to him to repeat it for Sam's benefit, if he chose.

"Just checking," Jack said seriously. "Dakara wasn't the place where I spent several charming weeks enjoying Ba'al's luxurious hospitality, was it?" He looked pointedly at Daniel.

"How should I know?" He twirled one forefinger next to his head, pointing somewhere towards the heavens. "Glowy, remember?"

Jack couldn't have said why Daniel's flippant answer saddened him.

"No, sir," Sam replied, eyes front and oblivious to the tension behind her. "Ba'al's fortress was in another sector of space entirely. That's a target for the secondary wave."

"Ah. So, Dakara it is then." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "We there yet?"

*****

It wasn't their job to attack Dakara, and they didn't really want to arrive before Bra'tac's throng rushed the Super Soldier factory, so they set an easy pace, using only the sub-lights. Once Tartarus was secured, Teal'c would send a signal, and SG-1 would make their presence known to the forces holding Dakara.

With any luck, the Tartarus contingent, comprised of the bulk of rebel Jaffa troops, would be victorious in their quest to off Ba'al and turn his Jaffa to the good side. With the best part of Ba'al's forces deployed at Tartarus, Dakara had only a token presence, comparatively, the majority of which the rebellion's underground sources had determined, lay in the small cadre of ships currently in orbit around the planet.

SG-1 plus Jacob --in the guise of Enki, one of the handful of remaining System Lords, and loyal to Ba'al-- were to travel leisurely to Dakara, ready to take command of Ba'al's forces there, once they got word that Ba'al had been defeated.

The real Enki had been ritually immolated just hours before. This left only Nyx and Yu.

Teal'c had made friends with Yu's first Prime, Oshu, during the fight with Anubis over Kelowna. Oshu was a member of the underground politically, but still fiercely loyal to the Jade Emperor, who had been his master since he was a boy. If they were successful this day, Teal'c would contact Oshu with the news first, allowing him the time and opportunity to give his master an honorable death, before the word went out that the Goa'uld had fallen. He would leave Nyx to suffer at the hands of her own Jaffa, several of whom were known to him. Hers would not be a quick demise.

*****

The rebels came out of hyperdrive shooting. The automated defenses which ringed Tartarus couldn't stand up to the raging onslaught of weapons brought to bear from the Jaffa fleet. Neither Anubis nor Ba'al had foreseen an enemy so well-equipped and so determined.

The comm on board Teal'c's ha'tak screamed with Ba'al's displeasure, the symbiote's deeply modulated voice filling the pel'tak. "What is the meaning of this?"

Teal'c reached toward the comm unit to reply, but Bra'tac silenced him with a look.

"My Lord," another voice on the comm line nervously stuttered, "Mado'k was manning the shielding console and appears to be mortally wounded! I am Loc'ar, my Lord, your humble and obedient servant."

Teal'c's eyes widened. He mouthed Rya'c? to Bra'tac, who grinned in confirmation.

"I have no interest in what you are called, and I care nothing for dead slaves. Get those defenses repaired!"

"Yes, my Lord, right away!"

At a station to Teal'c's left, a young warrior he judged to be no older than Rya'c, worked feverishly to triangulate Ba'al's location in the sprawling complex on the planet's surface. In the seconds that Rya'c had bought them, Tora'c had been able to locate the Goa'uld's position to within a few meters. "Got it!" he trumpeted gleefully.

Bra'tac's jaw squared with determination as he considered the young man. "Very well. You will send us to the closest ring room to that location, without delay." His eyes swept the soldiers assembled there with a level, determined gaze.

"Rak'nor, Cha'ra, and Yat'yir, you will accompany Teal'c and myself in the first assault. Maz'rai, you will select four warriors and follow in the second."

Turning, they strode as one off the command deck toward the ring room.

In their wake, the words, in case we do not succeed hung heavily in the air. Their only hope lay in Tora'c's ability to block any further transmissions into or out of Ba'al's private chamber.

*****

The battle to take Ba'al's throne room wasn't as bloody as it could've been. More than half the Jaffa they encountered on their way there from the ring room gave the password in time not to get zatted, and then turned to help them, doubling the rebel's numbers. It was gratifying to see.

With the rest of their number waiting in the corridor behind him, Teal'c kicked open the door to the room at the end of the long corridor and rolled two stun grenades across the floor, then ducked back into the corridor for the few seconds it took to take effect.

Certain any Jaffa attending Ba'al would've fallen to the grenades, Teal'c surged inside, prepared to do battle with one or more super soldiers, in case their intelligence had been wrong. But he found himself alone, face to face with a smirking Ba'al. the edges of his personal shield sparkling in the light from the braziers.

Ba'al took his time coming to his feet, folding his arms across his chest in a show of supreme disinterest.

"Well, well, well," the Goa'uld intoned. "I wished to see who had the audacity and temerity to penetrate my defenses. I'm not surprised that it is you, sholva. Amusing as this is, however, I really must take my leave."

Teal'c didn't respond. Instead, he leveled his staff at the smirking Goa'uld and fired, knowing that the staff energy would ineffectually bounce off Ba'al's personal shield. He continued to fire, careful to keep his eyes trained only on the false god, so as not to give away Bra'tac's presence behind him.

He watched as Ba'al tripped the transport circuit and was gratified at Ba'al's shocked expression when he wasn't immediately whisked away. He could tell the moment Bra'tac's thin blade pierced Ba'al's back and then twisted up inside his chest cavity, by the thin line of blood which appeared at the corner of his mouth...

*****

"Crap," Sam muttered.

Daniel's head swiveled from the reference he was reading. "What's wrong?"

"We're entering the Dakaran system."

"It's too soon," Jack stated tersely, coming to his feet. "Crap."

"I already said that sir," Sam said tightly.

The comm crackled to life and spewed forth static-y Goa'uld.

"Who goes there?" Daniel translated, eyes glued to the console.

"Who goes there?'" Jack mimicked with a disbelieving frown as he set about checking his weapon.

"Shhh!" Daniel and Sam hissed simultaneously.

There was more gibberish, and then Jack heard the name Enki.

"Inky, that's Jake, right?" Jack said behind them as he secured a zat holster to his left thigh.

"I am Enki, System Lord for this --I dunno, quadrant / area / system. Stand down your weapons. I intend to board your vessel."

"What?" Jack said, his lips pressed together tightly. "I don't remember any boarding being mentioned in the 'plan'."

"He's improvising, because we're early," Sam whispered over her shoulder.

"Shut UP!" Daniel ordered, his eyes closed tightly, as if he could block out all the offending chatter that way.

He murmured the translation under his breath, "Lord Ba'al commands an inspection of your lazy asses... Quit wasting my time, stupid infidels... I'll have you all put to death for your...something, something... sassy backtalk..."

Daniel was obviously paraphrasing, which Jack hated. "Goa'uld posturing, yadda, yadda, yadda," he muttered, clipping his P90 to its lanyard. The plan hadn't included Jacob actually leaving the safety of the Jaffa-held Al'kesh, not until after the big reveal. Jack had no idea if he'd be able to stall until they got the word. If they got the word.

There was silence in the scout ship for many long seconds, and then Sam said, "Rings activated. He's on board the Goa'uld ship."

"Shit," mumbled Jack.

"My feelings exactly, sir."

*****

Ba'al spun angrily, growling deep in his throat as he twisted his body in a useless attempt to pull out the offending blade now lodged deep in his back. He came to rest facing a grinning Bra'tac. As recognition hit, his personal shield flickered off with the interruption of his concentration.

"YOU!"

Eyes wide in disbelief, Ba'al continued to futilely push the buttons on his hand device, furious to find that neither his shield nor his transport device worked any longer.

"You will cease this treachery this instant," he demanded, his voice filling the room. "I am your GOD!"

Without breaking eye contact, Bra'tac pulled his katana from its sheath. "You are no god," he said simply as he advanced on the Goa'uld, malevolent intent dripping from his every word as the now-impotent coward retreated in front of him.

"For all the hundreds of thousands of your innocent victims, but especially for Doracn'l, I will now end your miserable life."

And with one great, two-handed swipe of the punishing blade, he easily separated Ba'al's head from his torso.

The body crumpled to the floor like a soggy sack of river stones. The head--with open mouth and wide, surprised eyes-- left its perch with a wet, reluctant sound and rolled with the force of the thrust, coming to rest at Teal'c's feet, leaving a slimy trail all the way back to the splatter where it had originally fallen and bounced.

There was blood everywhere.

The two Jaffa stood, still braced in fighting stance and panting hard, seemingly mesmerized by the gore, as well as the apparent simplicity of the act itself, as if the truth of it hadn't quite sunk in-- it was done. Finally. Ba'al was dead.

Moments --hours?-- later, Teal'c released his held breath, startled by the thrumming adrenaline pulse in his ears. There were sounds of men fighting in the corridor outside. Rak'nor and the others had been charged with engaging those loyal to Ba'al, preventing their access to the throne room, giving him and Bra'tac time to accomplish the deed.

He pushed open the big, golden doors he didn't remember closing, to find bodies strewn on the floor of the corridor and the scent of discharged naquada hanging heavily on the air. Rak'nor's shoulder was scorched, the wound cauterized around the threads of his clothing, yet he fought on, outnumbered, keeping the others at bay through 'sheer cussedness', as O'Neill would've called it. Rak'nor was a brave warrior.

"ENOUGH!" Teal'c bellowed from the doorway. In the sudden silence, he added, "There need be no more killing this day. Brothers, put down your weapons. Ba'al is dead! We are all finally free!"

Behind him, Bra'tac came out of Ba'al's chamber, covered in as much blood as Teal'c was. "Behold!" He held Ba'al's head aloft, so all could see.

There was a hushed stillness, and then one of those who had been fighting moved forward, his staff weapon aimed straight at Teal'c's chest.

"It is a trick!" he proclaimed. "Gods cannot die. He has simply taken another host!"

"It is no trick," Bra'tac assured them. "Come. See for yourselves, the symbiote still cowers within." He continued to hold the dripping head by a handful of the jet black hair, while Ba'al's Jaffa surrounded him. "His body lies there. Do with it what you will, but the head is mine. I claim it."

As the Jaffa moved into the throne room to inspect the corpse, Bra'tac joined Teal'c and Rak'nor. "Come, friends," he said in a voice rich with emotion, "let us share in this historic occasion. We shall taste the blood of our vanquished enemy, and let it strengthen us for the many challenges we will soon face. The Jaffa are a nation without a home; we must make Dakara our destiny."

Bra'tac's lips were already smudged a deep red; he'd apparently started without them.

Both men came as bidden and reached out a hand to catch some of oozing gore and bring it to their lips. Rak'nor moved with some uncertainty, his gaze locked on Teal'c, following his lead, if a little reluctantly.

Teal'c grinned. "This is a great day, my brothers, one we have waited for, for many long years. Victory tastes very sweet."

All three men partook of the grisly toast, licking their fingers clean of the lifeblood of their vanquished foe. Teal'c had a fleeting wish to have experienced Apophis' demise as intimately.

Casually, he turned toward Rak'nor and observed, "You are injured."

Rak'nor scrubbed his mouth on his forearm and shrugged off Teal'c's concern. "Mine is of no more concern than yours," he observed with a jut of his chin to where Teal'c's previous wound was bleeding through the bandage Major Carter had placed upon it. "It is nothing. A scar to brag about around the campfire.

"Shall I instruct Tora'c to release the protection over the throne room?"

"Do so," Teal'c instructed. "It is time to spread the word. A new day has dawned, one in which all Jaffa are brothers. Together, we must learn what it means to work together for the betterment of us all. We must put our petty disputes to rest."

Rak'nor delivered the message to Tora'c as they made their way to the rings.

Rounding a corner, they came to a dead stop, faced with six armed Jaffa. Smile wide, Bra'tac held Ba'al's head high for all to see, as Teal'c and Rak'nor bracketed him, aiming their staff weapons at the crowd.

"Ba'al has fallen," Teal'c declared in a tone that brooked no arguments. "Throw down your weapons, or I will kill you where you stand."

Cautiously, Bra'tac emerged from between the other two. "Come. See for yourselves," he bid the others quietly, for he knew that men driven by fear would sometimes act unwisely. What they had done this day would change every Jaffa's way of life, for the better, yes, but the unknown was no less fearsome to them than the evil they were accustomed to. "Ba'al is truly dead. We need live in fear no more."

From the middle of the phalanx, one Jaffa warily stepped closer to examine the still-dripping head. A look of supreme awe settled over his features as he beheld the three men responsible for this unlikely and amazing feat. In a single movement, he powered down his weapon and dropped to one knee, head bowed. "Master," he said reverently. "What is your name, that I may honor you?"

As one, the five Jaffa standing behind him disarmed and knelt as well.

"Do not bow to me," Bra'tac said sternly. "What we have done this day we did for all our people, so that no man must bow to another again. Go now, and tell everyone what you have seen."

Several of the Jaffa scattered, following the command, but the first kneeling man rose and met Bra'tac's eyes. "My name is Cor'ak, and I pledge my allegiance to you and this holy cause. How may I be of service?"

Bra'tac's frown resolved into a knowing nod. "Come. We may meet others of Ba'al's Jaffa who require such convincing."

As they made their way to the ring room with their prize, a dozen other rebel teams advanced into the massive complex, setting enough explosives to demolish the entire Super Soldier facility. The word spread via all open comm channels that the destruction of the compound was imminent, and that rescue ships were standing by to ring aboard any stranded Jaffa who were interested in freedom.

Once aboard the Ha'tak, Teal'c contacted Oshu. He told his friend that the reign of the Jade Emperor had come to a close. Oshu was very grateful for the call and wished Teal'c well. As he awaited the jump to hyperspace, Teal'c had time to wonder if Oshu meant to accompany Yu on his final journey.

*****

Jack stood behind the pilot's seat, senselessly hovering, but finding it to be a refreshing break from the pointless pacing he'd been doing for the last thirty minutes.

"Jacob's been gone for half an hour, Carter," he said. "I'm willing to try to bust him outta there, but we're a little outnumbered, not to mention outgunned; we'll have a fight on our hands. It'll make it a helluva lot worse if he's got it under control. What's your gut tell you?"

Not taking her eyes from the readouts in front of her, she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. "He may be perfectly fine. I was hoping we'd have heard from Teal'c by now."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Yeah, me too."

"I think we have to trust that he can pull it off," she said uncertainly. There wasn't quite a question mark at the end.

Just then, the comm crackled to life, and with it, a video transmission as well. "Jaffa Kree!" in Teal'c's booming baritone.

In the co-pilot's seat. Daniel straightened. "Hear me!" he translated over Teal'c's voice. "The system lord Ba'al breathes no more! He has been slain by Master Bra'tac of Chulak - behold!"

The viewpoint shifted, and the screen showed Bra'tac, his tunic and face stained with blood, and surrounded by dozens of smug looking Jaffa. He was holding up Ba'al's gory head, for all to see.

"The Goa'uld are no more!" Bra'tac bellowed.

Jack winced. Bra'tac's eyes were wide, and he was grinning like a loon. "He look a little crazed to anyone else?"

"His woman," Daniel said softly, translation forgotten for the moment. He'd overheard Bra'tac and Teal'c talking earlier, and he understood Bra'tac's position.

At one time, Daniel had wanted to slay Apophis with his bare hands, for what he'd done to Sha're. But fate had intervened, in the form of Apophis' host, a simple temple scribe. Daniel had managed to push the rage down, to move past it, and he'd finally found a shred of compassion that would let him help to ease the dying man into the next life. He'd been so close to losing his soul that day...

Both Jack and Sam were looking at him, waiting for more. He mentally edited out most of the really personal stuff before he added, "Ba'al's woman was killed, pretty horrifically, many, many years ago. My guess is, he's waited all this time, hoping for a chance to somehow avenge her." He shrugged and turned back to watching Bra'tac speak to the masses about his victory. "Give him his moment."

Watching Daniel's pensive face, Jack thought maybe his friend could understand Bra'tac's pain better than anyone. Jack still felt the sharp sting of guilt, every time he thought about the promise he'd failed to keep so many years ago, to help Daniel find his wife. And when they'd finally found her --dying by Teal'c's hand, no less, and how's that for irony for ya-- Jack had known Daniel would need some kind of closure. He'd wanted so badly to give it to him, but the fucking snake had been pretty hard to kill, and by the time it'd finally, really happened, there'd been precious little satisfaction to be had.

Daniel carried that open wound with him every day. And Jack felt responsible.

During Bra'tac's impassioned speech, the snake, having lost its life support system, finally slithered out of the ragged opening in the host's neck and landed on the floor with a sticky plop. Unfazed, Teal'c zatted it twice before it could slither away, then bent to retrieve the stringy corpse, holding it up next to Ba'al's head.

Daniel continued to translate. "... and I bring it to the holy city of Dakara, so that all Jaffa within the sound of my voice may know that with the deaths of Anubis, and now Ba'al, we are finally free! Go out and spread the word, my brothers and sisters, that this is the hour of our deliverance! Today, we write our own destiny!"

The crowd on Teal'c's ship roared their hearty approval.

By the time the speech ended, Jack was wired as tight as a top. "Carter, you got that ring-back device? If they bought Jacob's Goa'uld act, he could be in real tro--"

Just then the rings in the back activated. Jack spun, P-90 leveled, Daniel beside him half a heartbeat later with his Beretta drawn.

"Carter, get ready--"

"On it!"

As the rings retracted, Jacob yelled, "It's just me!" as he lay curled into a ball on the floor, head tucked into his arms.

"Punch it, Sam, we've got him!" Daniel yelled, and the ship lurched, nearly dropping him where he stood.

"For cryin' out loud, Jacob, you might've at least called first," Jack groused, flipping the safety back on his weapon and thrusting a hand down for the man to grab.

"Yeah, sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I was beginning to feel my welcome wearing out."

"In that outfit, I'm not surprised," Jack mused with a frown. "I'm not sure velvet and lace is such a good look on you."

"I'd have to agree." Jacob yanked off the enormous, ruffled collar. "Itchy, too."

He turned to Daniel. "Don't suppose you've got a spare set of BDUs on ya?"

*****

Sam managed to keep them out of sight and firing range, tucked behind the Dakaran moons, while the upheaval on board Ba'al's ship was resolved.

As Bra'tac's Ha'tak entered the Dakaran system, Teal'c checked in, confirming that the portion of Ba'al's forces in orbit around the planet had been made to capitulate, and following some 'crew adjustments', were now considered 'friendly territory'. He had no way of knowing how many Jaffa were on the planet's surface, or what their affiliation might be --or what they might be persuaded to be-- which, while not surprising, Jack found less than ideal.

Teal'c agreed. He estimated the casualties in the operation as a whole to have been under thirty percent. He was most gratified; it was a reasonable price for a people's freedom from generations of slavery. The Free Jaffa fleet had not been as lucky; barely a dozen ships were still serviceable. Most had not survived the onslaught of the automated defenses orbiting Tartarus. More would need to be procured, and quickly, if they were to attempt to form any kind of rudimentary government instead of setting upon one another. There was a long road ahead.

As soon as their ship was in orbit around the planet, Bra'tac, Teal'c and Rak'nor planned to gate to the surface with an armed contingent of loyal comrades. Their intention was to sift friend from foe with regard to the Jaffa holding the temple, under the guise of arranging a suitable display of the remains of the deposed god. It was hoped their arrival would be showy enough to draw the guards away from the temple, until SG-1 could complete the decommissioning of the weapon, just in case they couldn't be turned to the cause.

The three of them arrived on the planet's surface, startling the Jaffa standing watch there. They found themselves in the ruins of an amphitheater situated at the base of a statue so immense, the top of it was hidden by low, thin clouds. It was an amazing sight.

Still gripping Ba'al's head by the hair, Bra'tac motioned to one of the more intact of the smaller structures, midway around the rough circle to the right, and loudly instructed Teal'c to fashion a throne suitable for a false god.

With a knowing smile. Teal'c contacted the ship and had them send Jaffa and supplies to make it so.

Meanwhile, the curious guards came to watch and hear a legend in the making, about the day the reign of the Goa'uld ended.

While Teal'c and Bra'tac continued to perform in the center ring, the rest of SG-1 and Jacob set up the transport remote and landed the scout ship in one of the deep gullies behind the statue. There was no telling where the ring platform was located, and they had no wish to wind up in unsecured territory, especially before the weapon had been neutralized.

It wasn't a terribly long hike over mostly even ground, and they encountered no Jaffa along the way.

Once there at the foot of the statue, Daniel leaned way back, trying to see the entire structure. "Well, I didn't get a real good look at the figure as we were landing, but it does kind of resemble the one Jackson described to me, that housed the repository where O'Neill got his head sucked. The archway itself is definitely of Ancient design--"

"You wanna get your butt inside, please," Jack snapped, hauling Daniel into the covered area by the loop on the back of his vest, "before one of those 'not sure I'm really on your side yet' Jaffas gets a peek at us?"

Daniel shook him off and glared at him. "That's a fairly annoying habit you've developed there, Jack, especially since you're the one who's so fond of gathering intel. Has it occurred to you that I can't do my job without my own kind of intel?"

"As long as your intel doesn't get us killed, you can gather all you want."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

"Just shut up and let me--"

"GUYS!" Sam interjected loudly. "I think I found some writing over here."

And thank god she'd interrupted, because she wasn't sure what else would've gotten through their loud, teeth-clenched, chest-to-chest bickering.

She remembered Colonel Carter telling her about the wall, and the difficulty she and her father had in translating it without Daniel's help, but then she'd mentioned that Selmak and her father had both died almost immediately following the Dakara mission. After that, Sam hadn't been able to focus on anything else, not even about how to get inside.

She flipped through the datapad again, but there was no hint at all, just nothing.

She felt so stupid, letting her emotions get the better of her that way.

"Ohhh," Daniel breathed. Argument already forgotten, he left Jack stewing and moved past Sam to peer at the alien writing, not even noticing her discomfiture. "This is an extremely old dialect."

He turned to Jacob. "Can Selmak read this?"

Jacob's head dipped, and Selmak spoke in his grating Tok'ra voice. "Of course, but it makes no sense." He frowned. "Three days to the chicken...?"

"I hadn't gotten that far," Daniel muttered, moving to the part of the wall where Selmak was standing. "Chicken?" He studied the characters, his head tilted, then reached out and felt them. "Yeah, you're right; it says chicken. Three days to the... chicken. What d'ya know..."

"You doubt me?" Selmak sounded mildly amused.

"No, no, of course not." Daniel waved distractedly. "But the reference to poultry makes no sense whatsoever. I-It's not even a complete sentence. Now if it'd said, um..." he moved a little to the left, bending over almost double as he pointed to another phrase. "Here, see? Um... wind shall blow and the ground shake and the world will be recreated in three days--"

"Daniel! That's it!" Sam interrupted excitedly, a spark of memory coming from the sight of him nearly standing on his head.

Jack moseyed over to keep watch over them. "What's goin' on?" No answer was forthcoming, but he was used to being tuned out while his team scientists did their thing, so he didn't mind being ignored. For the moment. While they did their job, he did his, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to check for any possible activity in the courtyard.

Sam joined Daniel and her father at the wall, running her hands along the difficult-to-see seams.

"It's the circles, see? Here." She pointed. "And here. I think they're meant to be turned, until the phrases they spell out make sense, like a kind of combination lock!"

Daniel straightened up, only narrowly missing stepping on Jack's toes as he took a couple of big steps back, in an effort to take in the wall in its entirety. "A code," he murmured, his eyes finally registering the circles of stone amid the blocky text. "Huh. Good job, Sam." He gave her a big smile.

"Yeah, good job, Carter." Jack wanted in on the fun, even if he didn't know what the fun was exactly. "What's goin' on?" he repeated, but again was ignored.

Sam shrugged, not really over her feeling of being stupid yet. "Let's try to figure out which ones to rotate, before we pass out the congratulations, huh? This theory may not hold up."

"It will hold up," Selmak said, moving in front of another of the discs and pointing. "Rotate this one to this position."

Sam turned the disc until Selmak indicated they should stop.

Daniel read, "Midday. the sun is high in the sky." He nodded toward Jacob. "Okay. One down, and four to go?"

They continued to make adjustments, until at last a brisk wind arose and the ground started shaking. They ducked out of the way as showers of grit rained down from a stone structure that hadn't seen use in millennia, the code wall rising up into the ceiling, revealing a much larger room.

Braced against the outer doorway by himself, Jack bit off, "Look sharp," as the others moved to join him, huddling away from the falling debris in the center of the chamber.

He risked a quick peek at the construction Bra'tac was overseeing in the amphitheater and was grateful that none of the Jaffa were paying them any mind. They were all still standing around listening to the old geezer rewind the victory speech, while brandishing Ba'al's rotting head.

Jack turned to address the others who'd moved further back into the room once the transformation was complete. "Strangely enough," he said to their backs, "no one outside seems to have noticed your little magic trick, but I'm pretty sure that won't last. Think we could hurry it up a little?"

He was resoundingly ignored. Yet again.

Daniel, Sam and Jacob were gathered around some kind of table, one that hadn't been there a minute ago, intently studying the chicken scratch that covered it. It made Jack itchy to have them so far away, with so much rock in between him and them. How'd they know that wall wasn't going to slam shut again, if they pushed something they shouldn't? On the other hand, if he went over there and joined them, he'd feel pretty exposed, leaving their six unprotected from all the 'maybe-on-our-side-and-maybe-not' Jaffa in the courtyard. He was torn, annoyed and antsy, but his only real choice was to stay by the door and watch their six, so that's what he did.

"This is amazing," Sam said, looking around the inner room that had been revealed when the wall retracted. "This chamber must be pretty well shielded, it wasn't detected with any of the ship's sensors."

"Oh, god, I recognize this," Daniel breathed, looking at the table. Mirror-Daniel hadn't been able to tell him what the thing looked like, since he hadn't gone with them to Dakara. He'd been barfing his guts out with the flu when the Replicators had attacked the SGC. "It looks like Malikai's time machine..." He ran the tips of his fingers down the beveled edge of the carved stone blocks, and a screen behind him flickered on. He spun around, muttering, "Uh-oops?"

Sam dropped to the floor and slid halfway under the control table, trying to access the main hatch. "Probably rigged so it'd come on when it sensed someone was in the room. It's not the time machine," she assured him. "It's a control panel used to calibrate the weapon, the way Malikai's controlled Groundhog Day." She grunted, squeezing even further underneath.

"Daniel, kick my pack over here, will ya?"

Daniel gently toed her kit toward her so she could reach it, his eyes never leaving the screen with its rolling text.

"I don't suppose those are the dismantling instructions?" Sam asked hopefully as she rooted around in her pack for something she could use to pry off the cover, in order to access the machinery inside.

Following Selmak's head dip, releasing control to Jacob, he said, "No such luck, Sam."

Daniel chimed in, "Um, energy wave... basic molecular elements... Sam?"

"Yeah, that sounds like it," she agreed. This part, she remembered clearly.

Daniel backed away with a smile and one last touch of the rough carving. "Okay, you guys are up."

Sam grumbled, "Great."

Clearly out of his element, Daniel retreated to the archway to join Jack. "On your left," Daniel said softly, so he wouldn't startle Jack, in the unlikely event he hadn't heard him coming up behind him.

"Are we done here?" Jack asked somewhat irritably.

"We're in. I'm done. The rest is up to them."

He took up a position like Jack's, behind the cover of the arch, but pointed his M-5 in the opposite direction, doubling the coverage.

There was so much he wanted to study about this place; it made him sad that in all likelihood, no one would ever bother to try to understand the site's history, the real purpose of the weapon, what the Ancients had in mind when they built it, who the damned statue was supposed to represent--

Jack made no attempt to hide his bad temper. "Tell me again why we aren't just zatting it out of existence?"

After eight years, Daniel was used to having his train of thought derailed. "Um-crystals, I think. The scout ship's so souped up, it's burning through them double time." He shrugged. "Or something."

With a snort, Jack turned and strode over to the inner hatchway, palming the grip of his holstered zat as he went. "Carter, you've got exactly three minutes to do whatever you're gonna do, and then I'm zatting it," he ordered.

Before the echo of his words died away, the entire complex started lighting up, one panel at a time, until the room was bathed in an eerie blue light. The undercurrent hum indicated that all the machinery --whatever it was-- was up and fully running.

"What the hell?" Jack breathed, looking around the room and drawing his zat at the same time. The area was a lot bigger than it'd appeared at first, now that it was lit, and the fact that the machinery --whatever the hell it was-- seemed to be idling, was probably not a good sign.

"It's ancient tech," Daniel said through gritted teeth, his hands reflexively tightening on the weapon in his arms. "Of course it's responding to your gene. Stop it, or you're gonna give us away!" He alternated looking back over his shoulder at the crowd in the amphitheater and glaring at the man standing with his mouth open at the doorway of the apparently cavernous room. "JACK!"

"Love to," Jack ground out, spinning around to face him and spreading his arms. "Any ideas?"

Daniel managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Just. "How'd you make the chair work?"

"Thought the commands."

"Then stop thinking!"

"And just how do I do that, smart ass?"

In two strides, Daniel had Jack backed up to the wall, his shoulders thudding painfully against the roughhewn stone, his ball cap falling unnoticed to the dusty floor. Daniel thrust his hips against him, aggressively shoving his butt that last couple of inches, until there was no room between them, and nowhere for Jack to go, because he was good and pinned. Then Daniel covered him with his own body, leaned all his weight on him, and took his mouth. Jack immediately opened up, granting him admittance, probably as a reflex from having the wind knocked out of him.

The act wasn't subtle and teasing, and it didn't ask permission. It wasn't a question. It wasn't even really a kiss. Jack's mouth was hot and forbidden and not given freely. Daniel pulled every shred of loving emotion he could out of it, until nothing existed between them but lust, and raw, angry need.

Daniel registered things in passing that he wouldn't have had the presence of mind to notice, had he been emotionally invested in what he was doing. Jack's P-90 was in the way. His own weapon was digging into his ribs, and his groin was uncomfortably mashed up against some kind of bulky crap Jack had jammed in one of his pockets, maybe a yoyo and a pack of gum.

Some long-buried instinct brought one of his thighs up between Jack's legs, spreading them, insinuating himself into Jack's most personal space. Feeling Jack's soft package, hanging between tightly corded thighs, made Daniel's cock jump, hitting a kink he'd forgotten he'd even had. Suckling a soft dick --the moments before it got hard were always the sweetest, feeling it begin to grow and fill his mouth-- and he groaned into Jack's mouth with remembered lust.

Jack's tongue was rough and dry, and there was a metallic taste to it, as if he'd been chewing the inside of his cheek, as he sometimes did. Blood. It made Daniel come fully hard, as he clutched Jack's head without care, fingertips registering the silky hair as he gripped his skull, plundering Jack's mouth. Taking, possessing. Owning.

In that first blinding second, there had been only one thought in Daniel's mind: to knock Jack's concentration off kilter, so the Ancient tech would turn off. But now that he was in--

--IN--

Knowing it would be the only time, ever. Aware that he was topping Jack in front of witnesses. And with Jack's awareness coming back online, and every muscle tensing in the body beneath his, ready to throw him off --knowing this was against Jack's will-- was all such a fucking turn on, Daniel could've come right there, without very much effort at all.

When the tech had begun coming alive all around her, Sam had started to struggle out from under the console. Now finally emerging and clambering to her feet, she saw her father staring at something with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open.

She turned to follow his gaze, took one glance, and said, "Yeah. Never mind them. We'll talk later."

She grabbed her M-5 off the top of the console and ran towards the doorway leading outside. "Right now, can you please just work with me? Get that hatch open, however you have to."

She quickly scanned the amphitheater, noting gratefully that all the Jaffa still seemed to be hanging around the spot where Bra'tac was holding court, playing up to the audience, braying in Goa'uld of their glorious victory. The crowd was entranced, and no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to the goings on inside the temple.

Just then, the lights went off, and the tech seemed to go to sleep. "We're clear, sir," she said, loud enough for both Daniel and the Colonel to hear.

Hearing that seemed to snap them out of it.

Jack shoved Daniel away, panting, "What the hell was that...?"

Daniel stumbled, righted himself, and wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve. "Your stupid gene. I just short-circuited your brain for a minute." He made a pointed glance at Jack's groin, where the evidence was pretty hard to ignore. Or just plain hard. "Seems to have worked," he added smugly.

"Don't ever do that again!" Jack growled as he used the back of his hand to wipe Daniel's spit off his face.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't!" Daniel assured him with a bitter laugh.

To say Jack was disconcerted by the what? --kiss? attack? Ancient first aid?-- was an understatement. Never in his life, with any woman at her most assertive, had he ever felt anything like what had flushed through him just now. A feeling of willing helplessness had slammed into him in the instant the force of Daniel's body smashed him back against the stone wall. Knowing that all Daniel's voluminous experience was behind it, and that --short of seriously injuring him-- all Jack could really do was hold on for the ride.

He could still feel Daniel's fingers digging into his biceps, the press of the hard planes of his body --livingbreathingwarm-- the weight and the insistence of it holding him down. His tongue, the taste of him, when it strip-searched his mouth, the gut punch of feeling a hard cock jamming into his thigh.

He'd only ever been on the passive side once in his life, two days before they pulled him out of Iraq. He remembered very well his responses then: fear, rage, unbridled fury at the violation. But this thing with Daniel hadn't been like that at all; instead, it'd set off warm, throbbing, unrelenting need, which Jack found infinitely more disturbing.

Even with the absolute clarity of a moment frozen in time, he couldn't really understand exactly what was going on in his own insides, and that made him feel off balance, which just pissed him off. He was so hard, he wasn't sure he could even walk, the way his dick was trapped down by his thigh. The brush of his standard issue boxers across the head was nearly more that he could stand.

With a last glare, Daniel stalked off down a dimly-lit corridor, examining the banks and banks of now-cold controls, while Jack scooped up his cap and adjusted himself surreptitiously.

"Found the ring platform," Daniel stated haughtily over his shoulder.

Jacob managed to get his mouth closed, but he could barely tear his eyes away from either of them, even though the show seemed to be over. "How far d'you think he would have been willing to go, to get Jack to stop thinking?" he whispered to Sam, who had taken to kicking at the hatch.

With the second blow, it hissed open, revealing a rainbow of beautiful, fully charged crystals, arranged in gleaming racks. "You really want an answer to that question?"

He winced. "Come to think of it, not on your life."

Sam gingerly began removing various sized crystals and sliding them into her pack, amid wads of socks and extra t-shirts for cushioning. She rummaged around in her tool kit to see if she could find something to remove each rack in its entirety; no telling when they might come in handy.

She glanced up at her father, who was still watching after the Colonel and Daniel as they moved further away from them.

"The O'Neill and Jackson we met in the mirror universe were, um... married."

"To each other?" he squeaked.

He glanced back down the hallway and shook his head. "Actually, that doesn't really seem all that far-fetched, now that I think about it..."

He knelt down to give Sam a hand with loading up the crystals, wondering when in hell his new life was ever going to stop amazing him.

Jack and Daniel were now about as far as Jack was willing to let them get from the rest of the team. "This is far enough," he warned, following Daniel at a safe distance.

Just then, bright lighting came up, and panels started to flash and blink again.

"Damn it."

"Think it off," Daniel suggested offhandedly, not slowing in his exploration of the facility.

He skimmed as much of the text as he could, knowing Jack was going to call a halt to his exploring, unless he could find something to catch his interest. Jack must have taken his suggestion about the tech, because soon, the consoles slept once again.

And suddenly, there it was. Daniel's heart sped up.

"They have ships," he announced, squinting at a large block of text. He pulled out his flashlight just as an overhead light snapped on. He flickered a look over his shoulder at Jack, who shrugged. "Thanks," Daniel muttered, putting his flashlight away.

Jack's headache was back, big time. Brain tricks, who knew? He pulled off his hat and rubbed at his forehead, then plowed his hand through his hair. It didn't help. "Who has ships? Where?" He settled the cap back on his head and finished off his water.

Oh, yeah, he had Jack's attention now. "The Ancients. And I think we're right on top of them. Here, think at this," he said, pointing to a panel along the wall.

Jack came over to join him, bringing the scent of his damned sweat and his aftershave with him in an advance cloud that settled over Daniel like a teasing blanket. "Think at this? Do I do requests?"

"Yes, you do," Daniel bit off with some annoyance, heaving an irritated sigh. He still had the taste of Jack's mouth on his tongue, and he wanted more; his body, his blood was primed for it. He shoved down his need and thrust his hands into his pockets, to keep from reaching out for the other man, from running his hands along his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him in--

Then there was the problem of the hard-on which hadn't diminished at all, thanks to the pheromone cloud, and was now thrumming in time with his every heartbeat, burrowing into said pocket, wanting to be petted. He yanked his hands out of his pants like he'd been stung and folded his arms securely across his chest, then sighed again, an internal plea for calm.

"This could be important, Jack. Think 'on' or 'start' or 'go', or 'open, sesame', or--"

"I get it!" Jack frowned, addressing the panel. Nothing happened.

"Okay, try touching it, then."

"Oh, because touching things never gets us into trouble," Jack muttered under his breath.

He reached out gingerly with the index finger on his left hand, the right still gripping his weapon. He closed his eyes, laid his hand flat on the console, and thought OPEN UP. Nearby, a panel slid up into the ceiling, triggering interior lights beyond it to come on, revealing what looked for all intents and purposes like a landing bay the size of the one that housed Prometheus.

"Oh, cool."

Daniel moved toward the opening as if to go inside. At Jack's "Aht!" he stopped dead in his tracks and stepped aside, so Jack could enter first.

Weapon at the ready, Jack slipped into the cavernous space, and the lights brightened.
Daniel followed him in, weapon up, sweeping the room to the other side.

Once Jack was satisfied there was no threat, he pinged Carter on the radio. "You guys about done? Carter...?"

Just then, Sam strode into the landing bay, followed by her father. She carried a pack on her back and another in her arms, both bulging with crystals in their racks, and Jacob was carrying a large rectangular cube balanced on one shoulder.

"Right here, sir," she replied. "We've stripped the console clean of useable components and turned the inner workings to slag. The weapon's completely dead in the water. Just another fancy monument now."

"Sweet."

He nodded at Jacob, eying what he was carrying. "Souvenir, Jake?"

The elder Carter shrugged with his free shoulder. "Sam thought Daniel might like it. Something about scribbles."

Sam adjusted the strap on the pack she wore, giving a little shimmy to settle it more comfortably on her back. "He's got to be frustrated, leaving all this behind," she explained. "I figure this might..."

"I get it. I'm sure he'll appreciate the thought. And good job, guys, way to keep up the rep."

Jack waved his free hand in the direction from which the Carters had just come. "You see the rings we passed back there? Get on up to the ship and make the repairs you need to. Then sit tight behind one of the moons, til we get the all-clear from Teal'c, just in case. Daniel and I'll check these out. We'll be along shortly."

"These...?" Sam looked around the cavernous space, noticing for the first time the rows of gunmetal gray cylinders stacked in concentric rings around the perimeter of the room. There was a dark shadow in the center of the dimly-lit room which brightened when Daniel walked up to it, displaying more levels of storage as far down as she could see.

"Daniel thinks they're ships," Jack said. "Ancient ships. Ships for Ancients. Whatever. We'll stay in touch by radio."

When Sam looked doubtful, he followed her gaze across the expansive room to see Daniel strolling between the ships, taking it all in. Jack squeezed her shoulder. "It's under control. Really."

"Yes, sir." She turned and headed back down the hall toward the rings, with Jacob a step behind her.

Daniel wandered further into the hangar, following the writing. He reached out to run his fingertips along the block script, as if reading Braille --what an amazing treasure house of Ancient culture and technology-- and the floor lit up, revealing an untold number of layers to the structure, shelves, really, each holding more of the objects he was pretty sure were aircraft of some kind.

Jack appeared just behind his right shoulder. "So. Ships, ya say." He peered into what seemed to be to be a hole that had a transparent covering over it, and tried to count the rings. As far as the eye could see, small cylindrical craft were stacked one atop the other, past where the lights could penetrate the darkness.

Daniel grunted and moved away. He was more in control now, but that would change the minute he got another whiff of Jack's musky aroma.

"There are several hundred here." He pointed. "This silo goes down hundreds of meters. From what I can deduce from the sparse signage, there're seven of these underground silos in different locations on the planet surface, presumably with as many ships."

Jack whistled, enjoying the echo. "This the factory, y'think?" In reaction to his interest, the machinery started to hum to life again.

Daniel sent him a sidelong glance, with an arched brow that clearly offered his services, if he needed his brain fried again.

Jack frowned, looking down to concentrate. "I've got it."

As the screens went dark and the lights dimmed, Daniel nodded and moved on to a long lever in the floor near the center of the structure. "It doesn't say, one way or the other, I'm afraid. This might just be a local hangar. But from what I can tell, this," he reached out to touch the lever gingerly with one finger, "should be the mechanism to get one of them up here to look at." He pulled it back and sure enough, the clear covering dissolved and the ship closest to the top of the chamber floated up through the hole and settled silently onto the deck in front of them

Jack watched through narrowed eyes. "How come it let you do that?"

"I wasn't sure it would," Daniel replied evenly. "But presumably, not everyone who lived and worked on Dakara had the gene. The general workers, the motor pool, essentially, would need to be able to manipulate the craft to some degree." He glanced over his shoulder --a query, answered with a shrug-- and they went to investigate.

When they got within about ten feet of it, the hatch went up, and the running lights came on.

"That you or me?" Jack asked with a sidelong glance.

"You'll notice my hands never left my pockets."

They circled the craft once, then entered through the open hatch in what seemed to be the aft end. They gingerly examined the interior, working their way up to the front of the tiny ship, whereupon Jack merely stared at the pilot's station.

"Have a seat," Daniel suggested.

"You."

Daniel sighed and plopped into the shotgun chair. Predictably, nothing happened. He unhooked his weapon from its lanyard and set it on the floor beside him. "If I'm right, you're the only one who's going to be able to fly this thing, but I'm betting your ass has to actually be in the chair to do it."

Frowning, Jack unclipped his own weapon and set it on the console beside him, where he could get to it quickly, then lowered himself cautiously into the seat. The cockpit controls lit up like a Christmas tree, and a HUD flickered into view on the windshield in front of him. Beneath his feet, he could feel the ship thrumming, although his ears weren't sharp enough to pick up the sound of the engine.

"That was fun," Daniel said softly. He looked over at Jack and was surprised to see him sitting stiffly, hands in his lap, just studying the readouts.

"Humor me for a second." Daniel wondered how much of the Ancient script Jack was actually able to read. "Stop threat-assessing this. Quit trying to guess how it all works off your gene, and just accept that it does."

Jack grunted but said nothing.

"Clear your mind. Relax and imagine 'hover'."

Jack must have done just that, because in moments, they were floating roughly three meters off the deck, perfectly still.

Not wanting to jar his concentration, Daniel asked softly, "Can you maneuver left or right?"

Jack did more than that; he caused the craft to make a slow 360 degree circle in place, coming to rest just where they'd started. His hands went to the controls, as though it were any other aircraft. "Fly," he whispered under his breath, and then they were airborne and slipping gracefully through a previously invisible hatch in the ceiling, out into the late afternoon sunshine.

Daniel relaxed back into his seat and gazed through the window at the passing scenery as he watched Jack from the corner of his eye. He'd started loosening up as he gradually came into synch with it, man and machine, never more unified, a thing of beauty.

Jack put the small ship through its paces, trying out the various controls. He confirmed that it was indeed space worthy by taking it up into a pretty steep climb and then dropping it back down with the speed of a roller coaster.

"Watch yourself," Jack whispered just before putting the craft through an extended barrel roll.

"Whoa!" Daniel ground out, gripping the arms of his seat, expecting to get tossed. It hadn't been necessary, as he'd never felt pulled or jarred at any point. Some internal workings only Sam could explain probably compensated for the sudden shifts in gravity.

After they'd been flying for several minutes, Daniel asked, "Are there weapons?"

The question obviously piqued Jack's interest, because the HUD shifted instantly, making that information available.

Daniel was going to ask another question, but one look at Jack, and he changed his mind. "Can you set us down in that clearing up ahead?" he asked softly.

Jack complied without comment, and once the ship was down, he let out his held breath.

"God, why didn't you say something? This is killing you--"

Jack dropped his hands into his lap and frowned as he allowed his head to fall back against the headrest, his eyes sliding shut. "Just a headache."

"Just a headache?" Daniel dug around in his vest pocket and pulled out a package of tissues, which he slapped into Jack's hands. "Your nose is bleeding."

The fact that Jack seemed surprised by that scared Daniel more than anything else.

He got up, shrugging out of his own vest and jacket, and snagged three envelopes of Tylenol from the side pocket before piling the bulky items in the seat. "Here, take these." He opened the packages and plopped the drugs into Jack's free hand.

He stood behind the pilot's seat and jiggled the loop on the back of Jack's vest. "And take this off, so I can try and loosen you up."

"I don't need--"

"The hell you don't! I can recognize a blinding migraine a mile away; I've had enough of them.

"And I sure as hell can't fly this stupid thing. It's a long damn walk back to that temple and the rings, and frankly, I don't relish the thought of having to carry your heavy, unconscious, sorry ass all the way there. So shut up, and let me see if I can take the edge off the pain, so you can get us back."

Grumbling at the annoyingly incontrovertible logic, Jack swallowed the pills dry, thinking at least it would give his stomach a break from the Advil, coughing and gagging when they got stuck in his dry throat. Daniel handed him his water, and Jack gratefully took some. "Thanks. Water helps the--" he pointed to his head.

"Keep it," Daniel said. "And take off your jacket."

"I'm fine--"

"That's supposed to be my line."

"I don't need--"

"Look, I promise I won't kiss you again, all right? I won't molest you any further than I already have. You have my word, Jack, not that I expect that to mean much to you anymore."

Jack glared at him over his shoulder, or at least tried to, before his stiff neck stopped that motion cold. With a long-suffering sigh, he leaned forward and stripped off his vest and jacket, letting both fall to the floor of the cabin.

Instantly, Daniel's hands were on him, blessedly cool against his neck, his fingertips searching out the column of knotted muscles, until he found one he wanted to isolate. They were silent, both of them, until Daniel shifted position and touched on the source of the tension and really started to dig strong fingers into his neck, making Jack groan.

"I think you were concentrating too much," Daniel theorized, "trying to keep your mind from interacting organically with the ship the way the Ancients intended. Probably all that special ops training. I don't think you're supposed to have to work at it so deliberately. You're trying so hard, it's probably jacking up your blood pressure, which can't be good for your heart.

"Lift your arm this way, so I can get in underneath this big bunch..." Daniel grasped Jack's right elbow and brought it back perpendicular to his head, so a different set of muscles was prominent, and set to work on those.

"OW! OwowOW!"

"This would be easier if you were laying down," Daniel announced with a deep sigh. "C'mon. Let's move this out there in the grass."

"Not secure."

"Oh, for chrissake, it seems to be pretty uninhabited here. I think we'll be okay." Daniel grabbed his weapon and headed for the rear of the ship without waiting for Jack to reply, knowing Jack wouldn't let him go out there by himself.

Sure enough, by the time he reached the door controls, Jack had pushed in front of him, zat in hand. Daniel waited, biting back a smile, until Jack had taken a visual sweep of the surrounding area before stepping off the lowered ramp.

The area was idyllic. Towering trees resembling furry evergreens announced the edge of the forest that surrounded the glade they'd set down in. There was a completely cloudless sky, and it looked as though they might have another hour of daylight left.

Daniel really hoped the Jaffa could make their home here. He wondered if Teal'c would want to stay, too, maybe settle down with Ishta, now that they'd finally won the war. He deserved to live above ground for a change.

A glance toward Jack confirmed that his nose had stopped bleeding. He'd lowered the zat, satisfied they weren't in any immediate danger.

"Here." Daniel pointed at a random spot at his feet. "Take off your shirt and put it under your forehead." He was tempted to dig around in his pack for the tube of sunscreen he carried, to alleviate the drag of skin on skin, but under the circumstances, he figured that would probably just spook Jack.

Jack dropped to all fours and stretched out on his belly, setting the zat within easy reach. "I'll just lie like this," he said, folding his arms underneath his head.

"No, that bunches up your shoulders, which is why I wanted to lay you out here." Jack pushed up on one arm and glared at him, causing Daniel to roll his eyes. "Poor choice of words, I'm sorry. Will you please just cooperate? I can't believe you feel threatened by me."

"After that stunt you pulled in the temple?"

Frowning, Daniel planted his hands on his hips. "I took a chance that I could catch you off guard long enough to shut down the Ancient tech, and it worked."

Jack's expression turned frosty. "It won't work a second time."

"No. I don't imagine it will." Daniel told himself he didn't regret stealing the kiss; after all they'd promised each other back in the mirror reality, all of which Jack had subsequently rescinded, it was merely his due. But that didn't stop either the guilt for having taken what wasn't freely given or --god help him-- enjoying the aggressive taking of it.

And it hadn't in any way quenched his longing for more.

With narrowed eyes conveying a warning, Jack rolled onto his butt and peeled off his t-shirt, then settled on his belly again, with the shirt under his forehead, arms back to his sides. The grass had turned out to be moss-like, and its cool, velvety softness felt good against Jack's bare skin. "Where will--"

"I can get the best leverage if I straddle your hips; is that going to be a problem?"

After a pause, Jack muttered, "I'll let you know." He tensed when he felt Daniel's knees on either side of his waist, followed by some of his weight settling across his ass. He could picture how they must look, and he had to fight down an instinctive response to buck him off. But he concentrated on staying calm, and five minutes into the massage, Jack had forgotten all about his initial wariness as he just let himself float on the incredible lessening of tension in his body, for the first time in days.

Daniel's hands were warm now from the friction of their skin, strong and knowledgeable as they worked the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. His hands traveled across one shoulder and down an arm, fingers and thumbs digging into Jack's triceps until the entire limb felt like jelly. This magic was repeated on the other arm, and then Daniel started in on his back. It was as if Daniel could see which parts of his body had been unnaturally clenched in order to direct the Ancient tech. He was able to fine tune the massage to target those areas, relaxing Jack and reducing the pounding in his head.

"My god, you are so fucking good at that," he mumbled gratefully into the moss.

Daniel smiled as he dug into the right lat with both hands. "So I've been told."

He was so thoroughly engrossed by the specifics of the massage, pressing and releasing pressure points, that although he noticed Jack tensing beneath his hands, he didn't give it any thought until the cold voice demanded he stop. "Get off, Daniel. Now."

"Just let me finish th--" The rest was lost in the scuffle.

One minute Daniel was working his way down Jack's right lat toward his waist, and the next he'd landed on the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. Blinking and trying to drag in a desperate breath, his eyes focused on Jack looming over him, panting with fury.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Daniel gasped, dragging in air to fill his tortured lungs. Jack had both of Daniel's arms pinned high over his head, and his dog tags had swung to a stop above him. The odor of his sweat had overpowered the scent of his aftershave, but was no less stimulating to Daniel as he lay trapped beneath him.

"Did you seduce the kids back in college that way?" Jack rasped through grinding teeth. "Huh? Massages your specialty? Start with their neck and back, and then move into their pants? Once you had them all hot and bothered, did you lie down like this for 'em? Spread your legs--"

"Get the fuck OFF me!" Daniel barked, trying to wriggle free.

Jack tightened his hold of Daniel's hands, spreading himself the length of his body, trapping his legs with his own, so that Daniel had no point of leverage to escape or to try to buck him off. That left him bearing all of Jack's weight, but Jack figured he was probably used to having men lay on top of him. Couple of times a night, most likely. Orgies on the weekends. Two and three at a time, sucking and fucking in every combination, activities that were so far beyond Jack's knowledge and experience, he knew his imagination probably paled in comparison to the life Daniel had actually lived.

Nothing at all like the Daniel Jackson he'd fallen in love with somewhere along the way.

"How many?" Jack demanded, his face right over Daniel's now, his sour breath bathing Daniel's face, tags pooled at Daniel's throat.

"Let me GO!"

"Soon as you tell me. How. Many. Men."

"Why do you even CARE?" Daniel roared, still gasping for air. He could feel Jack's erection digging into his groin, and he wondered if Jack would take out his fury on him that way. Then he had to question if he'd be able to stop him, if he tried it. "None of your goddamned business!"

"HOW MANY?" Jack bellowed, adrenaline-fueled rage making his heart pound.

"I never counted, you stupid sonofabitch!" They glared at each other, and Daniel decided to go for the whole enchilada. "LOTS! Okay? That make you happy? LOTS!"

God, Jack was so pissed off, he could barely see. All the anger and disappointment of the last few days, held in, bottled up, was working its way out of his system now, with the object of that fury right underneath him. "Anyone who wanted a quick fuck, I suppose. A convenient hole--"

"Isn't that all you were ever interested in, Jack?" Daniel accused bitterly. "No responsibility, no inconvenient, embarrassing relationship you'd have to explain to people. To your boss?" His pulse was pounding in his ears, making him wonder what Jack would do if he finally passed out from lack of oxygen. "That why you didn't tell Hammond about us, 'cause all you really wanted was a quick fuck in a warm, tight hole? Just needed to satisfy your curiosity, did you?"

"That's not what I wanted, you idiot! That's not ever what I wanted! I've wanted you from the very beginning, and sex wasn't even part of it until after you came back! But that was before I knew the real you, apparently. It seems that's all you know how to do, isn't it. Rut and fuck!"

"How dare you presume to judge me!" Daniel growled, once again struggling mightily to yank his arms free. "To know what it was like for me back then. I was a kid! I was young and pretty, and that got me what I needed--"

"Men. Sex--"

"Companionship!" Daniel corrected. "Someone I could pretend to belong to. Company for an hour, long enough for me to forget for a little while that there wasn't another living soul on the planet who gave a good shit whether I lived or died!"

As Daniel spat those livid words at him, Jack just stared down at him, his panting, jaw-clenching fury grudgingly giving way to grim understanding.

"Yes, I fucked men," Daniel taunted in a low voice, working as much salt into the wound as he possibly could, "I fucked a lot of them. And I let them fuck me. It was hot and nasty and fun. I liked it. And that's the problem right there, isn't it? That I'm dirty. Tainted. Defiled. Because back then, I'd let anyone with a hard dick have me."

Fuck it all to hell, he'd never hated anyone as much as he hated Jack O'Neill right now, and he put every ounce of loathing he could muster into his voice. "You stupid, ignorant prick. It doesn't matter to you that all of that was more than twenty years ago. That I haven't been with anyone since I descended, because that's not the kind of life I even want anymore!"

Silent and immobile, Jack continued to stare and lean his full weight into him.

Daniel was still so very angry, not even so much from being held down like that, or the agonizing pressure against his ribs, but by the way Jack had been treating him since that day in the truck. Jack had broken his heart, and Daniel had tried to contain the pain and disappointment, tried to work around it for the sake of the mission, with limited success, but now it had broken free and lay between them like a dying thing.

"It doesn't matter to you one bit that I was saving myself for you, does it," he demanded. "The whole reason you dumped me is 'cause I didn't live up to some arbitrarily set Jack O'Neill purity standard when I was still a kid. Well, fuck you!"

Jack continued to stare down at him, paralyzed by his own stupidity and arrogance. ...not the kind of life I want anymore... Daniel hadn't been flaunting his past, rubbing Jack's face in it. He'd merely disclosed it when asked. Jack's own insecurities had done the rest. Blown it up all out of proportion.

"Get off me," Daniel ground out. "Now."

Jack got a knee under him and lifted off. He released Daniel's hands last, and came to rest on his butt, off to the side and well out of striking distance.

Daniel rolled to his feet and stood glaring down at Jack. "Feel better getting all that off your chest?" he bit off angrily. "Get all your questions answered?"

Jack sat on the cool moss, still shirtless, folded arms balanced across one upturned knee. He let his head drop forward, just so he wouldn't have to look Daniel in the eye. He'd been storing this rage and hurt for days, until it had nearly eaten a hole in his stomach lining. Blaming Daniel for the actions of his double, because obviously, if he was a slut in that universe, he was the same here, right? By Daniel's own admission, he'd been free with his body; it'd looked like a slam dunk from all the available evidence. He' d jumped to the conclusion, and Hammond's call had interrupted them before they could finish having it out, before Daniel could explain.

Instead, they saved the world, and lost each other.

It'd taken two long days of anger and disappointment and hard feelings before he'd finally snapped, only to hear what he should've figured out on his own. Daniel Jackson had been a lonely kid, years younger than his classmates, and he'd found a way to fit in. He'd essentially traded his body for friendship and a sense of belonging. To keep from being alone. Daniel had reported it so matter-of-factly that day in his truck, Jack had assumed it'd meant nothing to him either at the time, or now, decades later. That it hadn't touched him. Jack had assumed it'd all been just a lark, a game, and that Daniel wasn't capable of having a serious relationship, because all he was interested in was the next dick.

And he'd angrily concluded that if vast sexual experience and an eagerness to have multiple partners was the way to Daniel Jackson's heart, Jack O'Neill flat out didn't have what it took.

Jack had spent the last two days condemning Daniel for all of that, and making them both miserable in the process. Regret and shame and sadness filled his belly, knowing he'd torpedoed the relationship himself. He hadn't asked questions; he'd made accusations. He'd been an idiot of the highest order, and lost the best thing that'd almost ever happened to him, pushed it away - no, that was wrong, Jack had actively killed it dead. He deserved to have lost it, lost Daniel, because there was no way, not after the way he'd treated Daniel, that he could ever forgive him, ever feel anything for him but resentment. No fucking way.

"Yeah," Jack finally replied grimly. "All answered."

"Good," Daniel snapped. Jack had been hard, and he'd not made any effort to conceal his arousal as he'd held Daniel down. He wanted to ask, So, was it good for you? What he said was, "Help me find my glasses."

Jack got to his feet and found them, undamaged, and handed them over, still unable to meet his eyes. He shrugged into his shirt, turning his back to Daniel to tuck it in. He was just buttoning up his fly when the radio in his pocket chirped.

Abandoning the belt, he pulled out the radio and said, "Yeah, Carter, go ahead."

"Scout ship's good to go, and Teal'c just gave us the all clear. There's apparently a celebration in the courtyard, and we're invited."

He took a deep breath and let it out before he responded. "Yeah, fine. We're on the other side of the planet, but this bird moves fast. About twenty minutes out, I'd say. Go on down, and we'll meet you there."

"Roger that."

Behind him, Daniel asked, "How'd you know that? That we're on the other side of the planet?"

Grimly, Jack pocketed the radio and finished doing up his belt. "I don't know how to shut it off," he said. "The last HUD we pulled up... it's like it's still in my head."

"Like the ship's part of you now."

Jack grimaced, ashamed by Daniel's ability to compartmentalize, to be able to speak to him civilly, even after the raging fiasco of the last fifteen minutes. "Yeah." Christ, his head hurt.

*****

Jack completed his check of the console in the temple, pleased when it didn't respond to his presence, then made his way into the courtyard, where a bonfire filled the stone circle in the center of the amphitheater, flames reaching five meters into the air. Its heat drove back the first twenty rows of spectators, like a circus show featuring man-eating lions. There were thousands of Jaffa, enough to fill nearly half the stadium. The light of the fire in the settling dusk of this newly-freed planet was a spectacular backdrop to Bra'tac's impassioned oratory. Not surprisingly, though, it was in Goa'uld, so Jack didn't a get word of it.

He could see Carter and Jacob about halfway up the tiered seating that was cut into the rocky hillside, heads together as though he was translating for her.

All the way at the top and off to one side, Daniel sat on one end, all by himself. They weren't going to talk about it; Jack knew that. They couldn't. Jack had essentially assaulted a member of his team, the SGC's most highly-ranked civilian consultant. Didn't matter that Daniel had assaulted --kissed-- him first. As a Colonel in the US Air Force, for cryin' out loud, he should've had better control.

The whole subject was a minefield, and only a real fool would open his mouth.

"This seat taken?" Jack couldn't tell if Daniel could actually see him, because of the glare of the bonfire in the lenses of his glasses, but he tried to look hopeful, just in case.

Daniel glanced up at him, and then pointedly swept his gaze around at all the empty seats around them, rows and rows and rows of them. Finally he muttered, "Suit yourself," and turned his attention back toward the makeshift podium that had been erected next to the pointy stick on which Ba'al's head currently teetered.

It was pretty chilly, even as cold shoulders went, but Jack knew he deserved no better. He sat, careful not to get close enough to touch, figuring Daniel probably had had enough of being up close and personal with Jack O'Neill for one day.

Nothing that had happened over the last three days had changed how Jack'd grown to feel about Daniel during the preceding eight years. He'd fallen in love with the man, long before it'd been appropriate to do so, and even the shocking revelations about Daniel's past hadn't changed that. He'd had a chance to have something wonderful with Daniel, had his fingers on the brass ring, but his own self-doubt had made him fuck it all up.

Now he was certain he'd never get Daniel back, not after the way he'd treated him, and that hurt on a whole lot of levels he wasn't going to poke at until he was safely behind his own closed door, whiskey in hand. Daniel was better off without him, anyway. But he owed it to him, and to the years they'd been friends, to try to at least apologize for being more of an ass than usual.

Jack cleared his throat, but it didn't budge the lump of crow that was firmly lodged there. "When we were on Mirror World, and... ah, then again back there earlier today, you said you hadn't...ah, that you'd..."

"Saved myself for you?" Daniel sighed tiredly. He really didn't want to get into this. His hold on his emotions was paper thin after the day-- hell, the week-- they'd had, and he wasn't sure he had the stamina left to withstand another all-out argument. He felt absolutely drained.

"Yeah, that," Jack murmured, looking down at the dirt between his boots.

He snagged a nearby twig and started drawing aimless squares in the dry soil, because it seemed easier than having to hold actual eye contact with someone who'd seen him at his worst. There was a long, strained pause between them; it was starting to look as if Daniel was planning to ignore him, not that Jack could blame him. He should probably count himself lucky that Daniel didn't just deck him.

Below them, the Jaffa looked like they were taking turns congratulating themselves on their victory and plotting the rapid overthrow of the small pockets of Goa'uld that remained. He was glad for them. One small step for Jaffa-kind...

Jack had let the silence drag on as long as he could stand and was trying to figure out an exit strategy, when Daniel finally spoke up.

"It sounds melodramatic, I know, but it's what I thought Jackson would understand, given his... preferences," Daniel said, referring to his mirror double. He finally turned his head and let his gaze sweep over Jack's abject form. "And it happens to be true, you know. I was saving myself for you."

Daniel was sure this wasn't going to stop hurting for a very long time, but the scene between them in the field had felt almost cathartic after it was over. So he decided to just let the rest of it out; maybe then, he'd be able to walk away with some hope of getting past it. Eventually.

He took a breath and plowed on, keeping his gaze directed toward the activity down below. "After Jonas went back to Kelowna, and things quieted down a little, some of my memories started coming back." He closed his eyes, and it was as if he was watching a movie of someone else's life. "I remembered being one of the youngest freshmen on campus, and how scared and lonely I was. How badly I wanted to fit in.

"On the surface, it works," he continued, "in theory anyway. It's 'free love' and do whatever feels good. But in the end, it's empty and very unfulfilling. It gets pretty fucking lonely when you don't even know their names. It's not even companionship, really, just lonely people who choose to be lonely together.

"I decided a long time ago, that wasn't the kind of life I wanted anymore. Maybe I'm not as desperate for friendship as I was when I was fifteen, I don't know. Maybe it's because I've been too busy saving the world to really notice I have no personal life to speak of, but--"

"You've had offers since you've been back," Jack countered, finally attempting to look Daniel in the eye. "In the locker room the other day--"

"Yes, I've had offers," Daniel snapped, glaring at the man beside him. "That's not the point! I realized I'd gotten a second chance, and I wasn't interested in wasting it on just that. Mindless, unconnected sex with people I had no feelings for, always waking up alone... And none of those offers held the promise of what I'd already set my sights on-- on who I'd already set my sights on," he amended. "I had wanted to try to build a life with you, Jack," he muttered intensely. "Don't you get that yet?"

Jack had no idea how to respond to that type of declaration, not in any kind of real way. His heart wanted to warm to it; it was what he'd wanted for a long damned time. But his brain helpfully reminded him he'd fucked it all up with his assumptions and accusations and boorish behavior. Nothing left for him now but years and years of regret for what he'd foolishly thrown away.

"For which you should no doubt have your head examined," he finally replied, voice heavy with emotion.

Daniel rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the speeches. "At this point, I'm inclined to agree with you."

Jack frowned and swallowed hard. "How long were you gonna wait for me to get my head outta my ass?" he asked softly.

Daniel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, hands clasped loosely between. He continued to watch the action below, making the pretense of trying to follow what was going on, his responses just throwaway comments over his shoulder. "I guess I figured if I flirted with you long enough, you'd eventually take notice."

Jack glanced out across the darkened evening, taking in the blood-stained heroes of a revolution, giving their inaugural pep talk. It was important. Galactic, even. But to him, it wasn't as important as this, trying to make peace between them.

"I noticed, Daniel. But I couldn't let myself think it was anything but friendly jibes. I wasn't allowed to believe it could ever be more."

"Yeah, well, it was more," Daniel said tightly, gaze firmly centered on the activity below. "It was an audition. It was, 'check it out, Jack, I'm worth switching teams for'."

Crap. Could he feel any worse about all this? "You were putting yourself on the line," Jack guessed sadly.

"Every single day," Daniel said. "Since that very first time, when you called me a cheap date, I thought you might... be interested. I was willing to trade myself, to get you to help me find Sha're."

"I helped you anyway," Jack said quickly. It seemed important to get that on the record.

"I know," Daniel whispered, almost too softly for Jack to hear. "I figured out later that's part of what made me fall in love with you."

Stunned beyond words, Jack just sat, open-mouthed, staring at the side of Daniel's head.

Down on the floor, it was Teal'c's turn to speechify, and his deep baritone filled the open air auditorium with the rich sound of freedom. He mentioned Bra'tac's name frequently, no doubt urging the still-assembling masses to choose him as their leader.

But none of it held hold a candle to the drama unfolding in front of Jack, up in the nosebleed section.

Daniel loved him? Was in love with him? Had been, anyway, before Jack had royally screwed it up. He hadn't been looking for a quick trophy at all...

The feeling of utter devastation left in the wake of that revelation was total, leaving Jack winded, as if he'd been running, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. The full force of what he'd lost hit him hard, like a physical blow, and he had to clench his teeth to hold a grunt inside. Gutted.

Daniel had essentially courted him for years, waiting patiently through all Jack's various bouts of stupidity and disrespect, and within days of acknowledging their mutual feelings, Jack had panicked at the first sign of trouble. And what had he done with all of Daniel's trust and devotion? Ground it to dust under the heels of his size elevens.

Fuck. Just, fuck.

Daniel would never take him back, not after what Jack had done, the things he'd said, and he didn't blame him a bit. He wouldn't embarrass either of them by asking for forgiveness, either; he didn't deserve it. But out of respect for Daniel, for the friendship they used to have, he had to at least try to apologize.

Jack sighed deeply and cleared his throat, playing for a little time. "I just...uh, want to say... need to say, I'm sorry for back there. In the clearing. I probably went a little--" Insane. Bat-shit wacko. Two fries short of a Happy Meal.

Christ, what a sorry excuse for a man he was. He let out a breath and looked away, trying to find a way to explain the crushing disappointment he'd felt, when he'd found out the guy he'd put up on a shining pedestal of goodness and innocence wasn't that after all.

But even if he could find those words, they wouldn't be able to touch the feeling of abject stupidity he'd experienced an hour ago, out in the middle of a mossy field on the new Jaffa homeworld, when he'd finally understood that Daniel wasn't the soulless heathen he'd made him out to be, that he was really only human after all.

"I made a mistake, Daniel," he said as solemnly and sincerely as he could manage. "A bunch of 'em. And I'm sorry as hell."

Abandoning the pretense of listening to the litany below, in favor of trying to gather what Jack was really saying, he turned halfway toward him. Apologies were rare beasts, when dealing with Jack O'Neill, and so far, this made two 'I'm sorrys' and an 'I made a mistake', all in the same minute and a half; it was nearly unprecedented.

Daniel's expression lost some of its anger, but the sadness remained. "If I'd known, all those years ago," he said softly, "if I'd had any inkling at all that someday that dumbass, juvenile shit I got up to in school would cost me... this. You." He looked away again, not really seeing anything, but just needing the break from the intensity between them. He shook his head and grunted. "Should've kept my stupid mouth shut."

Jack heard the sound of sucking disappointment in Daniel's voice, and pain flared in Jack's gut, knowing he'd put it there. He bowed his head in shame and regret. If only they'd had the time to talk it out in the truck... If only he hadn't been such a bigot. If only Daniel still loved him. He'd happily beg for another chance. He'd do anything Daniel asked, whatever it took. But Jack could see that any love there'd once been was clearly dead now, killed by Jack's own hand, no less.

"I'm an ass, Daniel. Ignore me."

"I usually do, but..."

"Why break with tradition?"

"Whatever. I'm tired of fighting with you."

"That's what the ignoring's for."

Daniel absently rubbed his hands together, embarrassed that the banter had fallen flat. "Look, you should probably know, I wasn't kidding back on the Prometheus; I'm leaving as soon as we get back."

"What?" Jack's own double-take might've been amusing, if Daniel's words hadn't just caused his heart to stop. "Why?"

Daniel sighed deeply, mostly in an attempt to sidestep the emotional waver he felt building in his throat. God, he was tired. "Because as arrogant and bigoted as you are, and as angry as I am about the way you've been treating me..." I'm still in love with you. He couldn't say it, couldn't risk what was left of his heart. "It just hurts too fucking much to be around you."

So there it was, Jack thought, blunt and to the point, like having all the oxygen sucked right out of the air. Or like a bullet to the brain, which might've been kinder.

Based on the cheer that went up all around them, the entertainment in ring one had wrapped up. As the crowd began to leave their seats, Daniel stood and brushed the grit off his pants, a prelude to making his way down the steps, in order to join the throngs who were congratulating Teal'c and Bra'tac like groupies.

Jack got up too, watching the spectators stream toward the amphitheater floor, but his thoughts were wholly engaged with the man at his side. He felt as if he was on the precipice of something. It was ending, and it was wrong, and worse, it was completely out of his hands. He could feel it slipping away, and he couldn't think of a damned thing to do to stop it. He wanted to say more, apologize better, make sure Daniel really got it, but he didn't know if that was truly for Daniel's benefit, or just a pathetic attempt to assuage his own guilt.

"You should stick around," he said lamely. "They need you way more than they need me."

"No, uh-uh, they'll need you to train pilots on all the Ancient tech. And besides, I don't have anything left to give, Jack. I'm done." He turned then and looked directly at Jack. "Can we just agree to stay out of each other's way until we get back? And then I swear, you'll never have to look at me again. I'll be out of your hair for good."

Not for good, Jack thought miserably as he watched Daniel navigate the huge stone steps ahead of him. Forever.

*****

Teal'c had told Bra'tac he would do no speaking, that the older man was much more suited to matters of that nature. And yet, when his master yielded the floor to him, he'd spoken until his voice was hoarse. Telling of the dead, false god Apophis, and the horrific chain of events which set in motion his alliance with the inexperienced but fearless warriors of the Tau'ri, their foolhardy bravery in the face of superior weaponry, and their belief and commitment to freedom that had led to the destruction of so many powerful Goa'uld in recent years. He told of the death of Anubis, mere days before, at the hands of O'Neill, and the weapon of the Ancients, and he told of the Tok'ra and their wish for peace.

Teal'c was not an orator, and he did not yearn for the sound of his own voice, as some did. But he had seen and done things in his years with the Tau'ri that needed to be spoken of, and so he did. He did it for the faces of his brothers gathered before him, so clearly in need of guidance and hope. Although he doubted that his words were as eloquent as his teacher's, he could do no less than try.

There was still much to do to unite their peoples. Generations of mistrust and antagonism between the different factions would not lend itself to easy resolutions. They were newly free, and barely that, and Teal'c had no desire to repeat the mistakes of his mirror world double. They would need a simple system of government, and quickly, before others more charismatic than he, or those who carried agendas of their own, could bring it all down around them.

He was gratified that Rya'c had sustained only a minor injury in today's battles, a small gash along the side of his face. He was receiving medical treatment in the antechamber of the temple, where some had set up a makeshift hospital with supplies from every ship in orbit and on the ground. Teal'c was very thankful for many things-- that his son had not met the same fate as his mirror counterpart, for the sacrifice of countless thousands of others in his lifetime who had made this day possible, and that he and his son should be alive to see it. There had been many times, in years past, when he had not thought it would be so. He vowed that the sacrifices of all who came before him would not be in vain.

As he spoke, he thought of Ka'lel of the Mirror Reality, more soft-spoken, and yet no less strong-willed than Ishta, her belly large with his double's progeny. He had not gotten to know Ka'lel in his own reality; his dealings had all been with Ishta, who was fiery and driven and hard, because of the life she had been forced to lead, the only life she knew, which had changed her in ways that could not be undone. This was not a concern that had to be imminently addressed, however. If the Hak'tyl chose to send Ka'lel to Dakara as their representative, Teal'c would deal with it at that time.

A more immediate concern was the threat that Gerak and Se'tak posed to their fledgling democracy. He knew O'Neill would call it a 'Jaffa revenge thing', but in Teal'c's mind, the plan to permanently remove them from the picture was a well-considered tactical decision. The Jaffa had made great strides to arrive at this place in their history, poised to achieve great things for their people. After coming so far, if they were to lose this chance, due to the power-hungry whims of a few, it would dishonor all who had given their lives in the fight. Teal'c elected to keep this judgment to himself for now.

The crowd parted as Daniel Jackson came into view, followed by O'Neill. Teal'c bowed respectfully to his Tau'ri brothers. He was deeply grateful for SG-1's help, and that of Jacob Carter of the Tok'ra and Tau'ri, for without their assistance, Teal'c knew, this day would not have been possible.

Once they cleared the milling crowd, Jack shoved his hands into his pockets, wrinkling his nose as he studied Ba'al's severed head. "He's never looked better," he proclaimed to no one in particular.

Daniel reached out for Teal'c's arm, and then they hugged, clapping each other on the back. "Congratulations, Teal'c," Daniel said sincerely.

"It is truly a glorious day," Teal'c agreed with as big a smile as Daniel had ever seen.

"I'm guessing you'll be wanting to stay, help straighten things out?"

"There is much work to do," he said. "My time with Brother Teal'c of the Mirror Reality afforded me an insight on several grave pitholes we must seek to avoid during this time."

"Pit...? Potholes, maybe? Or pitfalls," Daniel tried to work out, under his breath. He took in Teal'c's perplexed frown and smiled. "Y'know what? You've got a new planet, and a free people; I think you should be able to have it be pitholes if you want."

Finished admiring the decapitated head of his nemesis, Jack wandered into the conversation just in time to be confused. "Pitholes?" He glanced from one of them to the other and back again, looking for understanding.

Having no patience for Jack's typical games, Daniel ignored him and spoke to Teal'c. "At the top of your list of things to do should be checking out the underground silo tucked into a corner of the temple. There are hundreds and hundreds of Ancient JackShips stored there," he suggested seriously.

"JackShips?" Jack frowned, looking between them. "Can we speak my language for a little while?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't really know what else to call them, especially since at the moment, no one else seems to be able to fly them."

He turned back to Teal'c. "You should give it a try, though, run all your people through testing it. Have them sit in it one at a time, and see if anything lights up. You never know."

"They have a cloaking capability and a sweet little HUD," Jack interjected without a trace of humor. "The Tau'ri will be very interested in getting their hands on a fleet of 'em, and would gladly trade Tretonin and other cool things for them," he suggested. "I'm hoping there might be more of those glowy little drone thingies stored around here somewhere, too. We didn't take time to look, but we'd be interested in trading for those, too, if ya come across any." From the corner of his eye, he saw the look of almost fond amusement on Daniel's face, and it made him want to try harder to drop the dumb.

"You're gonna need a lot of stuff," he added, "and we'd like to help ya get set up. Ambassador Teal'c," he finished with a smirk. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction they'd parked the JackShip. "Okay if we take the one, just to whet their appetite back home?"

Smiling in spite of the ache in his heart, Daniel watched Jack handle the impromptu negotiations with no small amount of pride.

"Consider it poor payment for your invaluable help in freeing my people, O'Neill," Teal'c bowed. "Songs will be sung in your honor."

"Songs?" Jack asked, perking up.

"The Ballad of Jack O'Neill," Daniel supplied, arms crossed, tongue planted firmly in cheek. "Vanquisher of Anubis."

Jack's eyebrows rose, a tiny, amused smile quirking the corner of his mouth as he looked to Daniel. "Vanquisher?"

"Loose translation."

"Ah. Well," he replied modestly, "maybe co-vanquisher."

"Assistant," Daniel helpfully supplied.

"Enforcer," Jack countered.

"The Undersecretary of Goa'uld Banishment," Daniel proclaimed.

"In a word," Jack decided regally. The banter felt empty, because it was all for show, for the team. He played along, because it was expected, but there was no warmth in it.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed with an arched brow.

"Two ells, don't forget," Jack reminded him seriously as he took in Teal'c's tolerant expression. Then he pulled him into a hug, culminating with a hearty back slap. "You gonna hang here for a while?" he asked, stepping back.

"I am. Word of Bra'tac's accomplishment is spreading quickly, and it would be wise to set out a framework for organization, before the immediate jubilation wears off, and the petty squabbles begin."

"Good idea," Daniel agreed.

"Carter!" Jack called out, scanning the noisy crowd around them.

She surfaced nearby, Jacob in tow. "Sir?"

"Give Teal'c your GDO, will ya? That way he'll be able to phone home."

She unfastened it from her wrist and handed it over with a hug. "Don't be a stranger," she said huskily.

Teal'c scooped her up easily, her feet clearing the ground as he returned her embrace with enthusiasm. "Indeed I will not," he rumbled. He needed to remain with his people at this time of upheaval, and yet he was surprised how strong the pull was to return to Earth with SG-1. Somehow, in the middle of the battle he'd never thought they could actually win, these people had become his family.

He was greatly torn.

Teal'c set Major Carter down, and as she pulled away, she was smiling. "That was-- wow!" There was color in her cheeks. More quietly, she added, "The weapon's been dismantled, but the temple and its writings were left undisturbed."

Teal'c nodded his understanding. He knew there were some who would be angered by relinquishing such a formidable weapon. But he and Bra'tac had decided together that it was too dangerous to be left in the hands of those who were unused to self-determination, and that if it became a divisive issue, then Bra'tac would step back and let Teal'c take the blame alone.

"I will tell them of the weapon that the temple once contained, and the terrible power it wrought, as conveyed to me by Brother Teal'c of the Mirror Reality." He bowed his head just a little. "Once SG-1 has safely left orbit."

"Take it easy, Teal'c," Jacob said, stepping up to offer his hand. Teal'c returned the gesture and bowed, but they didn't hug. "You've really got your hands full," Jacob added.

"Of this I am aware," Teal'c agreed. "I am grateful to you, Jacob of the Tau'ri, and Selmak of the Tok'ra, for your assistance in defeating Ba'al; rest assured all will know of your contribution to our freedom. You will always be most welcome here. Let this be a glorious day for both our peoples."

Another scout ship landed in the field beyond the amphitheater to thunderous cheers, and Teal'c bowed once again and bade them farewell, in order to greet the newcomers with Bra'tac.

Sam and Jacob broke off as well, speaking quietly together in the bustling confusion.
"Can you come back with us? We'll take some time and visit with Mark and the kids."

"I really can't, Sam. If you're right about Selmak only having a few months to live, and if the healers can't fix it, there are some things he needs to get accomplished before then, y'know what I mean?"

Sam scrunched up her face.

Jacob read the grimace in his daughter's expression and said, "This doesn't change anything-- you know I'll always love your mother with all my heart."

"Oh, I know that, Dad," she assured him hurriedly. "I mean, c'mon, I'm forty-two years old, and my father's leaving to get three women pregnant. Just... ewww."

He grinned. "Y'know, I'm less concerned with the idea of being the vehicle for a race to survive, however changed, than I am with the sheer mechanics of trying to make a polygamous relationship work. I wasn't all that great at making just the one operate smoothly," he confessed.

"Suggestion?" At his tentative nod, she added, "Stick to being the stud service, and let the women run the house."

Jacob's belly laugh rang out. "Excellent advice, from my daughter..." he groaned, grinning from ear to ear and pulling her into a hug.

Next to him, as Daniel smiled warmly watching Carter and her dad talk, Jack was filled with a rush of longing, overwhelmed with Daniel's inner and outer beauty, and his capacity for love.

God, Daniel, I was such a fucking idiot. Can we try again?

Suddenly, Daniel was looking straight at him. "Did you say something?"

"I..." Jack wasn't even aware he'd spoken aloud.

"Sounded like you said, 'god, Daniel...'" He frowned. "Was I mistaken?"

Daniel's straightforward expression was open, almost eager, and Jack wanted to say something, he really did, but his brain automatically went for the punch line, and he had to bite it back. For once, amusing and sardonic wasn't what was needed here. They were standing in the middle of Jaffa chaos, surrounded by shrunken heads and bloody prophets, and he'd been given an opening, a way to start the long road back, but Jack's mouth chose that time to not cooperate. "I--"

And then Jacob hailed him and the moment was gone forever. "Hey, Jack?"

God damn it. Carter and Jacob were heading their way. Jack cleared his throat and said softly to Daniel, "It'll keep."

He forced a smile in the Carters' direction. "Yeah, Jacob?"

"Mind if I take the scout ship?"

"Got a hot date?" Jack smirked.

"Well, as a matter of fact..." Jacob started. He stopped abruptly when Sam's elbow connected with his side. "Ooof!"

Jack figured he'd ask Carter later what all that was about. "Not a problem, Jake, we've got this sweet little ride sitting right over there. You're more than welcome to take home last year's model."

Chapter 5 : Life and Death

Jack felt a little like he was in the lost episode of Leave it to Beaver as he and Carter and Daniel waved at the retreating shape of Jacob's scout ship, bound for whatever rock the Tok'ra were calling home these days. After the ship lifted up and dipped its wings in farewell, he surveyed the gear piled around them on the ground.

"So. This everything?"

"Yes, sir," Carter said tiredly, looking kind of maudlin around the edges. "This is it."

Jack clapped his hands together, then rubbed them briskly. "Ennaway. Give me a hand getting this stuff into the new ship, and then you guys gate on back to the Land of Light. Use BigHatGuy's GDO to call Hammond, and--"

"Tuplo," Daniel interjected with a distracted frown as he shrugged into his pack. "How long have we known him, and you're still calling him BigHatGuy?"

"Whatever. Let Hammond know I'm bringing the little--" Jack flapped his hand at the craft in front of them.

"JackShip," Daniel supplied.

"Yeah, whatever." Jack scowled at the fact that Daniel knew him so well he could fill in Jack's blanks without breaking a sweat, and at the throbbing headache that was preventing him from achieving the smooth exit he'd hoped for. "Let 'em know I'm taking it straight to Peterson--"

"No, that's a bad idea," Daniel announced easily.

Jack huffed his annoyance, letting out a long-suffering sigh as he rubbed the tip of a thumb across his forehead. "You're steppin' all over my briefing, Daniel."

Daniel seemed monumentally unconcerned by this as he folded his arms across his chest. "Unless I'm very much mistaken --and I'm not-- you've still got a monster headache."

Jack's jaw tightened, and his hand dropped to his side. Only Daniel Jackson could find compassion for someone who'd treated him as badly as Jack had. "Yeah, so?" he snapped.

Carter reached for her thigh pocket. "I've got some--"

Jack waved her off. "Already had a double dose of Tylenol, thanks, Carter. And I can't afford to take anything stronger, if I really am the only one of us who can fly this thing."

"So," Daniel summarized, "we all go together. If it gets bad, we pull over, and I work on your neck some more. Simple."

"I'm dying to see the inside of the ship, sir!" Sam added, brightening up considerably.

Jack just rolled his eyes. "Oh, for cryin' out loud..." he muttered under his breath as he stalked toward the ship. Double-teamed again.

*****

"Y'know, I'll bet the ship itself would fit through the gate," Sam mused from the copilot's seat. She'd been a little disappointed, but not really surprised that the controls hadn't responded to her, but then seemed to forget all about it as she got wrapped up in speculation about the design before they'd even cleared Dakaran airspace. "I mean, why else would it be this particular shape?"

"Yeah? And how, exactly, does the stopping part go, so I don't fly us right into the briefing room window?"

She shrugged. "It must have some kind of inertial dampeners that would sense it's emergence through the event horizon, and lock down the forward thrust."

"Y'think so?"

"Most likely," she nodded. "It makes sense."

"You willing to bet our lives on that--?"

"Well..."

"--when it'd be so much simpler to just set her down gently at Peterson?"

After a pause, Carter began a litany of technobabble and conjecture regarding the Ancients and their probable ship design, making Jack's head throb in double time. "Carter," he groaned, "this is astrophysicist-speak for 'are we there yet', isn't it?"

"Sir?" she said, her eyes wide with innocence.

"Go," he said, shooing her toward the back of the ship. "Check the glove compartment for the operator's manual or something, but for gods sake, please stop drilling what's left of my brain with long, confusing words."

Sam winced. "Sorry," she whispered.

She slid out of the copilot's seat, just as Daniel dropped into the one behind the Colonel, hands folded in his lap and a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth-expression. "Are we there yet?" he asked as Sam passed him.

"Very funny," Jack snarled. He let the controls go, allowing his hands to drop to his side, and the craft downshifted smoothly. "I don't suppose you've found the head, Carter," he called out.

"Not sure there is one," she replied, head and shoulders inside the starboard bulkhead in the rear compartment. "Should've used the facilities before we left, sir."

"Don't make me come back there," Jack warned. "I'm pretty sure that was insubordination," he added for Daniel's benefit. He stood and stretched left and then right, and then twisted at the hips.

Daniel was aware of Jack's every movement in ways that weren't even reasonable under the present circumstances. "No, seriously. How long before we get home?"

Jack sighed. "Near as I can figure, we've got another three hours. Why? You forget to go, too?"

"No, I just..." he sighed deeply. He really didn't want to be here. He hadn't realized that in the confined space, all he could see, all he could smell, was Jack. The sooner they got back to the base, the sooner he could pack up and get on with his life. Without this maddening, confusing man around.

"It's nothing. Never mind." He eyed the way Jack was holding his shoulders, favoring the left side. The side he hadn't gotten to in the clearing. He winced inwardly.

"You-uh, need a hand with that shoulder?"

Jack rotated his neck, and the pops were audible. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind."

Crap. "No problem. Sit back down, and--" But Jack was already pulling his t-shirt out of his pants. "Um..."

"Here in the middle, okay?" Jack asked, taking a seat on the floor between the four forward seats.

"I--"

"I'm a little ripe here, Carter," Jack warned, stripping off his shirt. "Better stay upwind, if ya can."

"Duly noted, sir," she replied, continuing to explore the back, opening all the cabinets and poking around. When she found a panel overhead and removed the hatch, finding a nest of wires and couplings, she squealed with joy.

Smiling, Jack shook his head and then assumed the same position he had on the planet, on his stomach, with his t-shirt bunched up beneath his forehead, and his arms down by his sides.

Daniel was flustered. Considering the way the massage on the planet had ended, he was very surprised Jack was opting for an encore. "I could've..." he pointed over his shoulder toward the command chair. "You didn't need to--"

Leaning up on one arm and deliberately meeting Daniel's eyes, Jack told him quietly, "I trust you," then lay back down.

"Kinda on the inside of the left shoulder blade," he mumbled into the deck.

The admission of trust was startling, leaving Daniel more than a little confused, since it'd seemed as though they'd burned through what little they still had between them on Dakara. He frowned, taking a look into the aft section where Sam was standing on his pack full of books, her entire upper torso inside some kind of panel, completely oblivious to them.

He considered whether he could somehow kneel on Jack's left side and still get the job done, but the spacing of the seats made that impossible. So, decision made, he reluctantly settled onto his knees, straddling Jack's hips. He rubbed his hands together to warm them, wishing he had some light oil to smooth the friction, then began with the deltoids first, digging and probing, once he had the correct angle. He was careful not to rest any of his weight on Jack's body, and he tried hard not to enjoy the feel of Jack's skin under his hands, warm and pliant over the tight muscles beneath.

After a couple of minutes, Jack started moaning under his breath.

"Stop that," Daniel whispered.

"Stop what?"

"That."

"What that?"

"The pornographic sound track," Daniel hissed under his breath. "You'll give Sam the wrong idea."

"I don't know what you're talking about--OW!"

"I think that's got it," Daniel announced, louder than was strictly necessary. He stood and offered Jack a hand up.

Reluctantly, Jack rolled onto his back and took the offered assistance. "But--"

"You're fine," Daniel declared pointedly as he yanked Jack up. "And I'm getting hungry. Take us home, Dad."

*****

Daniel was in the co-pilot's seat beside him, just getting ready to notify the SGC that they were in the neighborhood, when it happened. There was crackling and popping like the fourth of July over the Washington Monument, followed by showers of sparks flying from the starboard console, sending out an energy arc so bright, it whited-out Jack's vision for a split second.

A gurgling yelp, followed by a sickening thump, and Jack knew before his sight completely cleared what he would see when he turned. Daniel had been thrown clear of his seat and was lying head-first up against the corner of the bulkhead that separated the forward compartment from the aft.

Jack released the controls and bellowed, "Carter!" before lurching toward his friend, his heart in his mouth. "Daniel's down!"

Falling to his knees, one hand went immediately to Daniel's chest, the other cupped the side of his neck, waiting interminable moments for Carter to get there and start her medic gig. "Console blew, arced hot. Don't know what he touched--" Reluctantly, Jack pulled his hands away, so she could get to him, and steadfastly refused to consider the evidence in front of him.

Electrical injuries were always bad, but Sam's first glance took in the awkward angle of Daniel's head in relation to the rest of his body, and she knew instinctively, even before her fingers touched him to feel for a pulse, that he was dead. He'd landed on his side, the back of his head touching his spine, his neck stretched out grotesquely, like a deer who'd been hit by a car and left lying on the side of the road.

"Oh, my god... his neck," she gasped. Her shaking hand confirmed no pulse, and her other hand on his sternum verified that he wasn't breathing. Her eyes filled with tears. "He's--"

"Don't say it!" Jack snapped. "He's not. He can't be."

"He is," she insisted with a choked-off sob. "Daniel's dead, sir."

"NO!" It didn't make sense; it wouldn't gel. It couldn't possibly have happened. He wasn't kneeling here looking at Daniel's corpse, not again. "No, no, NO!"

"His neck must've broken when he slammed into the bulkhead," she cried, weeping full on now.

She sat back heavily on her butt and continued to bawl softly as she clutched Daniel's hand. There'd been so much anguish these last few days, so much fear for her Dad and so much guilt about Janet, that her control was gone. It was all just too much.

"Daniel..."

"NO!" Jack repeated through tightly clenched teeth. "He's not dead; I won't allow it!" He checked Daniel's pulse and respiration for himself, and watched Daniel's neck flop unnaturally to the side. Jack'd broken enough necks in his time; he knew exactly what it felt like when they weren't connected anymore.

Just like Daniel's.

Jack's belly went cold. He was terrified that somehow, he'd unknowingly made some kind of stupid brain fart, which the goddamned Ancient ship had mistaken for a command, causing the console to blow and sending his friend flying. Was there some kind of code book of thought-commands? How the fuck could he get his hands on one before he blew them all to Kingdom come?

Supporting his head, Jack lifted Daniel to him, careful not to notice the wide-open, staring eyes. He cradled him gently with trembling hands, burrowing his face in Daniel's still-warm neck as he drew in a desperate, ragged breath.

Nonono. This couldn't possibly be happening. He hadn't just killed Daniel with his thoughts... In the back of his mind, Jack figured Daniel couldn't turn into a ball of glowy light, if Jack held onto him tightly enough.

Carter was weeping beside him, and Daniel was heavy in his arms, and think, damn it, think--

Body still curled around Daniel, he ground out, "You find any medical equipment on this tub?"

"Like what?" Sam asked, her voice small and trembling, as if it was coming from very far away. "His neck's broken, no medical equipment can fix th--"

"We have to DO something, Carter! I can't just let him go--"

"Wait! Wait!," she said, sitting up straighter, her teary eyes wide and desperate. "O'Neill did it! He did something for Bra'tac, remember? When he was injured... he healed him somehow!"

O'Neill had mentioned healing Bra'tac, but hadn't expounded upon it. Jack wished like hell he'd demanded the specifics, but they'd all just assumed the ability was gone, once the database had been removed from O'Neill's mind.

"I didn't take the download, I don't know how!"

"Maybe you don't need the download, just the gene!" she begged him. "It can't be any different from working the chair in Antarctica, or this ship. If there's a chance at all, you have to try!"

The language of war had always come easily to him, but not so much the words for peace or gentleness or love. Even with Sara, that had always taken a lot of effort. The only exception to that rule had been his little boy; for Charlie, the loving talk had flowed from day one, until that day, nine years later, when all Jack's loving words hadn't been enough to stop the inevitable. After that, he'd been sure Charlie's death had dried up all the tender words for good.

But unless O'Neill had been lying through his fucking teeth, words were all that was going to fix this. Another goddamned unacceptable situation he couldn't live with. He only hoped O'Neill hadn't been stretching the truth about having the healing mojo in the first place. He wouldn't put it past him.

Gently, he lay Daniel back out on the floor, and ignoring Carter's whimpering, he tore at Daniel's t-shirt, causing it to split from the hem up. The neckline stubbornly refused to tear, but it would have to do. Jack put his ear to Daniel's bare chest, but he heard nothing, no breathing, no body sounds; he couldn't feel his chest rising and expanding as his lungs filled. His body was beginning to cool.

Grimly, he closed his eyes and placed his hand on the center of Daniel's chest, and pretended he was working the La-Z-Boy in Antarctica.

YOU CAN'T DIE.

Nothing.

BEAT. START. GO, DAMMIT. WORK. ON. BEGIN...

Still nothing. But then, Carter had said his heart wasn't the issue, it was his neck. Eyes still closed, he bowed his head, and concentrated on visualizing an intact structure --neck bone connected to the backbone-- and all the tiny pieces of the puzzle that made up the miracle of the human body. With this image firmly in mind, he superimposed a heart, jump-starting it. Pumping blood and oxygen throughout Daniel's body, making him live, bringing him back. He wasn't going to give up again, he'd do this as long as it took. He'd stood by and watched his friend die two years before and had done NOTHING. He'd let Oma have him without a fight.

Not this time.

CONTACT. ENGAGE. COMMENCE. RESUME. LIVEDAMNYOU, YOU DO NOT GET TO PUNCH OUT ON ME, IS THAT CLEAR?

He wondered if maybe it would only work if the person on the receiving end of the command actually wanted it to, in which case, he was fucked, because lately he hadn't really given Daniel much of a reason to want to hang around. Maybe he'd just up and left for GlowyLand as soon as the arc hit him, because it was easier than having to deal with Jack and his arrogance. Maybe Daniel'd decided it wasn't even worth trying any more.

COME BACK. PLEASE - DON'T DO THIS, DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN...

Jack knew that was conceited of him, to think that Daniel cared enough about what was left between them to make a decision on whether or not to go on living because of it. But what else did he have? Jack's mind was racing, throwing everything he could think out there, hoping one would catch.

...I WAS WRONG. I'M SORRY. I LOVE YOU. FORGIVE ME.

He'd never know which one did the trick, but all of a sudden, Daniel's whole body spasmed; all four limbs stiffened at once as he arched his back, dragging in a huge chestful of air, his mouth fixed in a silent scream of agony, his face contorted in an expression of terror. As conscious thought started to come back online, his eyes began to dart around as he continued to gasp for breath after breath.

"What happened?" he choked, looking straight at Jack.

"Dead," Jack replied, his voice cracking with relief. He was shaking so badly, he was afraid to move. It worked. I don't know why, or how, but it worked, he's back. Thank you, thank you... "You were dead."

In a raspy voice, Daniel replied, "What, again?" It seemed as though he could taste Jack's fear. Glancing from Jack's face to his own chest, where Jack's fingers still rested, trembling and hot, Daniel lifted his own arm, still shaky and uncoordinated with unspent electrical charge, and dropped his hand over Jack's.

''Not," he whispered. "Not dead."

Daniel was deeply sore, every muscle in his body had contracted forcefully all at once, and he ached everywhere. Despite that, the expression on Jack's face was such that Daniel could barely resist the urge to pull the older man down and wrap his arms around him, hold him, reassure him. Thank him.

"Stay put," Jack ordered gruffly. Standing, he ordered, "Carter, check him."

As he turned away, Daniel didn't miss the way Jack dragged an arm across his eyes.

"My god, Daniel, you're..."

Daniel coughed. "What happened?" he asked her.

"You DIED again, you sonofabitch!" Jack snapped from the command chair.

He got the ship going, at twice the speed it had been moving before, pushing it to the limits his Ancient mojo told him were hard and fast. He was still shaking badly, and gripped onto the sticks even harder to compensate.

Sam helped Daniel scoot back, so he could lean up against the bulkhead. "Tell me," he asked again.

"I don't know," Sam said, wiping her leaking nose on her sleeve. "I was in the back when it happened. The Colonel said there were sparks from the console. I don't know what you were doing when it happened, or how you ended up all the way over here. But he's right, you were dead. No life signs at all."

"Then how..."

She considered him carefully, then glanced toward the Colonel. "You don't remember anything?" she asked quietly.

Shivering, he shook his head tiredly. "No. I'm thirsty, and I just wanna sleep."

"Probably not a good idea," she cautioned, slipping out of her jacket and draping it over him. She reached into her pack and handed him the water. "Not too fast."

Daniel took a large sip and held it in his mouth for a few moments before he swallowed it. "Do I have a concussion?"

"I don't think so, but--"

"Then lemme sleep."

She helped Daniel get situated on one of the benches in the aft compartment, and he fell asleep almost immediately. She stayed with him for a few minutes, keeping watch, just listening to him breathe, and then joined the Colonel up front.

"Sir, about what happened--"

"It's simple, Carter. You messed up."

Her eyes widened. "No sir, I did not. He was really dead, and you know it."

Tight-lipped, Jack jerked his head over his right shoulder, "He look dead to you?"

Jaw set, Sam grabbed Jack's hand in hers and held it up. "It's you! You did it. The healing ability of the Ancients. Bra'tac was mortally wounded, and O'Neill healed him. Your ability must be stronger than his somehow, since Daniel was completely d--"

"I don't buy that crap," Jack said, jerking his hand back, eyes forward. "No sane person would."

Stubbornly, she raised her chin. "Buy it or not, sir, he was dead, you touched him...or something... and now he's alive again."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, well, if that's in the report, we're all three gonna be spending a lot of time enjoying the hospitality of the NID. They just love unexplained, mystical powers." He cut his eyes over to her. "We'll be entering orbit in about twenty minutes, so we'd better get our stories straight. What's it gonna be, Major?"

*****

Sam checked out the panel that had zapped Daniel and couldn't find anything obviously wrong with it. Gingerly, she located the comm device from among the unfamiliar controls and used it to hail the SGC. When Walter responded, she told him they were in final approach to Earth, and to notify NORAD that they weren't some foreign bogie that needed to be shot down. She also requested and received clearance to the top secret hangar at Peterson, as well as transport up to the mountain for debriefing.

Ten minutes later, they were on the ground, safely tucked away in a guarded hangar.

Daniel awoke when the ship shuddered to a stop. Even without his glasses, he could tell that up front, Jack and Sam were having a heated debate, although trying hard to keep it quiet. Curious, he made his way forward on shaky legs.

"It's not like you to let me sleep through a briefing," Daniel grunted as he dropped heavily into the chair behind Jack. He'd zipped his jacket up to his chin, since his shirt was in shreds, but he was still feeling chilled. He folded his arms tightly across his chest, in an effort to stifle the trembling, wishing desperately that he were already standing underneath a hot shower.

When neither of the others seemed willing to break their staring contest, he ventured, "Um, anybody find my glasses?"

Sam reached around to the seat behind her to grab her tac vest, then pulled them out of the top pocket. "Here you go, Daniel," she said. "How're you feeling?"

"Startlingly not dead," he said almost cheerfully as he adjusted the frames on his face. "Who do I have to thank for that?"

Jack sighed as he wearily scrubbed a hand across his forehead and swiveled the seat sideways. Throbbing headache aside, he felt completely drained, as though he'd just come back from a twenty mile run in the rain, followed by two hundred fingertip pushups. He would really have preferred not to have this conversation. At all. Ever. But like it or not, he knew he needed Daniel's buy-in on this, if they were going to pull it off successfully.

"We're heading into the debrief, soon as you're cleared from medical, I'd guess," he said tightly. "For the record, it was Carter's stellar CPR skills that brought you back."

"Yeah?" Daniel glanced toward Sam, who was careful not to meet his eyes. Her rigidly held jaw told him there was something more going on. "Why don't I believe you?" he asked quietly.

"It's better this way," Jack said firmly. He wouldn't look Daniel in the eye either, and that set off all kinds of alarms in his head.

"Sam?"

"He's right, Daniel," she said reluctantly. "The NID would have a field day--"

"Carter."

"Sir?" she bit off, challenge in her eyes.

Jack returned her glare, and it spoke volumes. Daniel didn't know exactly what was going on, but he figured, since it seemed to pretty heavily involve him, he probably should have a clue.

"Okaaay. We're covering something up? That's fine. Happy to go along. Probably. But you've got to let me in on it, or no deal." When neither of them responded, he leveled his gaze at Jack. "Okay, I'll start. I felt something as I was coming back, while you were touching me--"

Startled, Jack finally met his gaze. "You said you didn't remember anything."

"I didn't, right away," Daniel said with a shrug, "but I'm starting to now." He appraised Jack's carefully schooled features, the clenched jaw; whatever it was he didn't want to talk about was pretty big.

"I could taste how afraid you were for me, Jack," he said softly. "I felt you speaking to me. Do you have any idea how weird this feels?" he asked. "The input's all messed up, and it's freaking me the hell out. Talk to me, please. Help me make sense of it."

Jack's eyes dropped as a tiny frown formed between his brows. "Let it go, Daniel," he said softly.

"Nope. Can't do it."

Jack looked away, his eyes catching movement in the hangar through the forward view-screen, and frowning at the Lieutenant striding purposely toward them. Would've been really convenient if this buggy had tinted windows... He was only marginally surprised when the windshield suddenly became opaque. He shook his head just a bit. He hadn't even made that thought very deliberately, but the ship just seemed to know what he wanted almost before he did. And that confused him all the more, considering what it had done to Daniel. He really needed to locate a copy of Ancient Thought Commands 101...

WHERE'S THE GODDAMNED MANUAL FOR THIS TUB?

He was completely unsurprised when no user's manual appeared on the HUD. Fucking Ancients.

"Jack..."

He turned back to meet Daniel's eyes, expecting to see them flashing ice blue, with the determined set to his jaw that Jack always thought of as Daniel's 'bulldog look'. He was disarmed to find liquid pooled in the corners of his eyes instead.

That look killed him, always had. Like Reese all over again.

"It wasn't--" How was Jack supposed to explain this to him? He hadn't even had time to assimilate for himself what had transpired between them during the touch; it sure as hell wasn't something he was ready to speculate about out loud, much less in front of Carter.

"I don't understand what happened," he admitted honestly, "so I'm pretty sure I can't explain it. But you have to let it go, because if the NID gets wind of any of it..." At Daniel's continued expectant look, Jack frowned. "We don't have time for this," he begged in a whisper. "They're going to be banging down the door any minute."

"Then you'd better talk fast," Daniel insisted quietly. There was something here. Something important. If he let it go, told Jack he was okay with it staying 'in the room', he'd never find out what happened.

"Daniel..."

"Your neck was broken," Sam said softly.

"Carter--!"

"He has the right to know, sir," she said firmly. Jack was her superior officer, and the Air Force had trained being argumentative out of her, and she didn't challenge him, not ever; that was more Daniel's style. But things had taken a quantum turn on MirrorWorld and nothing would ever be the same for any of them again.

The Colonel looked more shocked than angry, but it didn't really matter at this point. Sam had a boatload of leave coming to her, and she intended to take it, official reprimand or not. Whether or not that leave was permanent remained to be seen.

Ignoring her CO's tight-lipped glare, she addressed Daniel directly. "I didn't see it, but my guess is that you broke your neck when the panel arced and tossed you head first across the cabin into the bulkhead. When I got to you, you had no heartbeat and zero respiration. Even with a fully equipped medical facility and a team of trauma specialists, there wouldn't have been any way to save you. You were already dead when your body came to rest."

Daniel heard her words, but it took a long moment before they resolved into anything that made sense. Jack had told him he'd died again, but Daniel had assumed his heart had stopped beating for some short period of time, long enough to claim the technicality. But a broken neck was just about as dead as dead could be; not a simple matter to knit together all those smashed vertebrae, restring the miles of nerves that would likely have come undone.

But regardless of how it was technically possible, why would Jack have even wanted to heal him? He'd made it perfectly clear that he was ashamed and repulsed by everything Daniel was. How much easier just to let nature take its course, than to have the constant reminder of a dishonorable temptation?

He looked over at Jack, trying to understand the expression on his face, part drop it, that's an order, and part I need you to get this, don't make me say it. What was he supposed to say? 'Thanks' seemed so entirely inadequate.

"You touched me," he whispered in awe. "Gave me back my life somehow..."

Jack had to force himself to look away from the plea in Daniel's eyes, for it left him open and bleeding. He wanted to just shrug it off, maybe toss out a Doctor Frankenstein joke, but his mouth was too dry and wouldn't work. He swallowed hard, but it didn't really help.

Daniel wasn't going to let it go; that much was obvious. He cleared his throat, found some spit. "I don't understand what hap--" His eyebrows clenched in frustration, pissed at the waver in his voice, betraying him beyond his ability to deny. "I don't know how it worked. Why it worked. It just did. Can't we let it go at that?"

Sam reached out to take Daniel's hand in hers, to give Jack a moment. "The Colonel's right, Daniel. If they knew he could bring the dead back to life... Can you imagine? We just don't need to go there, any of us. At a minimum, the two of you would be lab rats for the rest of your lives."

Bring the dead back to life... Sam made it sound so simple, so uncomplicated. But it sure didn't feel that way to Daniel, not deep inside, where he could still feel the shadow of Jack's resolve, demanding that he follow. It was sore there, bruised, as though Jack had wrestled Daniel's id back into the wrecked shell of his body by the sheer force of his will.

He had so many questions, so many jumbled up feelings. He hadn't wanted to cry this badly in a lot of years, as though the buildup of stress and untamed emotion currently coming to a boil inside him were looking for escape. It felt like shards of glass, all sharp and jagged, and he knew it would kill him again on its way to freedom, if he didn't hold on very tightly. He took a deep breath and let it out, tried for calm. What could he do that wouldn't be met with disdain or inappropriate levity? How could he thank Jack, say what needed to be said without embarrassing them all?

"O'Neill thought his ability to heal was sucked out with the database," Daniel said, taking the easy --cowardly-- way out. "He probably doesn't know it still works. That he can bring back dead things."

"And we have no way to tell him," Sam replied. "The window's closed now."

Jack's common sense told him they'd already been there too long, and that just because he couldn't see them didn't mean there were probably several SFs circling the craft, looking for a way in. "I don't think he'd want to know," Jack said quietly; he sure as hell didn't. Too many questions he couldn't let himself think about. Charlie...

"It's a horrible responsibility," Daniel agreed grimly.

"Remember making me watch Pet Sematary with you?" he asked Sam. "The things that come back have no soul--"

"That was just a stupid horror movie, Daniel."

"Maybe. Can you test for that though? The presence of a soul? I mean, if I even had any left after the number of times I've been in a sarcophagus--"

"Don't worry about that," Jack muttered, eyes down.

"Why?" Daniel asked. When Jack just shrugged, he tried again. "Jack?"

"Because when I was..." he looked at Daniel, his gaze settling over him like a coverlet, taking in the living, breathing body of his friend, who wasn't dead anymore, and Jack didn't give a shit why it had worked; he was just grateful that it had. "Because I touched it," he whispered.

The admission hung in the air like a gossamer web, supported by nothing but sunlight.

"SG-1, do you copy?"

Jack couldn't tear his eyes away from Daniel now, just as he'd known he wouldn't be able to, as he reached for his radio. "Yeah, we're here," he croaked. He cleared his throat to bring his Colonel face back online. "Lookin' for the door release now. Stand by."

He let go of the switch and asked Daniel, "We good?"

Open-mouthed, Daniel continued to stare into Jack's eyes, as if he could get to the truth of all of this, unravel the mystery, if only he concentrated hard enough.

"I'll just..." Sam said by way of excusing herself. She made her way to the rear of the craft and easily located the control. She activated it, but nothing happened. "Sir? Are you keeping the outside hatchway sealed?"

Jack held up his hand in a 'hold' signal, waiting for Daniel to decide if he was willing to go along with the story, or if he was going to keep pushing. "Daniel?"

"Yeah," Daniel replied, his voice rough. Had Jack's eyes always been that brown? "We're good."

Jack nodded his understanding and thought the door open. "Try it now, Carter."

He stood with a grunt and offered Daniel his hand.

Daniel looked at it, then his gaze raked up to meet Jack's eyes. He extended his own hand, grasping the cool, dry fingers through which his life force had somehow returned.

Jack pulled, and with a tilt of his head toward the hatch, said, "Let's get this debriefing on the road, shall we?" and Daniel saw his expression shutter closed.

While Jack stopped to speak with the duty officer, Sam guided Daniel toward a waiting van, as an airman secured their gear in the back. "I know you said it's over between you," Sam murmured, once they were seated in the back, "but the Colonel didn't sound just now like he was very 'over it' to me."

"Over?" Daniel snorted. He slumped further down into the seat. "It never had a chance to start."

She kept her voice down, so the driver standing outside the vehicle waiting for Jack couldn't overhear them. "Be that as it may, while you were... dead... this time, I watched him. He was terrified, Daniel. I've never seen true fear in his eyes before."

She'd been trying to remember a time in the last seven years when she'd seen Jack O'Neill so panicked, and she'd come up with nothing. No Goa'uld or Replicator or Unas had ever put that frightened glitch into his voice, or that expression on his face.

"He's holding it together, better than I could under these circumstances, but underneath that 'just another mission' act he's giving us, he's just barely holding on."

Daniel grunted and pulled his jacket tighter around him. "If you ask me, it's knowing he's got this freaky new superpower that's got him spooked."

Sam shook her head. "It's more than that," she insisted quietly. "Whatever he experienced when he was trying to bring you back, I could tell--"

She needed him to believe her, but she didn't want to break a confidence to the Colonel, even one he didn't know about. "I heard what he said," she admitted reluctantly. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I love you. Forgive me. "He'd die if he knew he'd voiced it all out loud, so you can't let on that you know--"

She huffed in annoyance at Daniel's mulish expression. "He's desperately in love with you, Daniel," she insisted.

"I wish," Daniel muttered sadly. He turned away from her to lean his forehead against the cool, deeply tinted window. His head was throbbing, and his body ached, and he was nearly asleep on his feet. Jack had brought him back, but Daniel would be a fool to think it meant anything more than just not leaving a man behind.

"He's only in love with the idea of me, Sam-- the Daniel that lives in his head, the one who's innocent and pure as the driven snow. And I haven't been that for a long damn time."

She watched as the duty officer and the Colonel concluded their head-to-head and approached the van. "Mmm. I don't think it's that simple. There's more there, Daniel, but you're gonna have to dig for it. You know how he is-- he won't surrender peacefully."

*****

Apparently, surviving a near-death experience did nothing for one's ability to concentrate. As he lay on the infirmary table, while Doctor Poor-Substitute-for-Janet-Fraiser poked at him and conducted her tests and blathered on, all he could think about was what Sam had said. She seemed sincere in her belief about Jack's devotion towards him, but then she hadn't seen the guy leaning over him just a few hours before the incident in the JackShip, pinning him down, seething with fury. What she was postulating just didn't seem possible.

With effort, Daniel tuned back in to the doctor's prattling. "... and for someone who's had a serious electrical shock, you're in remarkable condition. I can't find an entry or exit wound anywhere on your body, and there doesn't appear to be any thermal injury at all."

"Healthy living," Daniel replied with a smile and a double sweep of his lashes. Doctor Brightman looked dubious instead of enchanted, though, so he was afraid he might've overdone it.

"Be that as it may," she said slowly. "I'd like to keep you overnight for observation." She started to scribble something to that effect on his chart.

"Um? No?" Daniel sat up, doing his level best to look with-it, and not at all electrocuted, even though the sudden movement made his head spin. It was a tough sell; he felt fried, in every sense of the word. "Observation? Based on what medical criteria, may I ask?"

She arched an eyebrow at his challenge as she looked up from her notes. "Your body sustained a massive electrical shock, from an alien mechanism that we don't fully understand at this point. The fact that you bear absolutely no physical signs that this event even occurred is something of a mystery as well. Honestly? I'm expecting an imminent systemic collapse of epic proportions. Therefore, we'll file this one under 'better safe than sorry'." She snapped his file shut with a loud click. "And you need to lie back down."

"Ah, how about, 'healthy until proven infirm' instead?" he countered with a wide smile, tuning out her ongoing objections.

Ignoring her hiss of disapproval, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, got gingerly to his feet, and reached for the pants that he'd thrown over the chair when he'd come in. He ignored her as she moved to stand in front of him, sternly rattling off medical jargon and reminding him that he should be grateful to even be alive.

She didn't know the half of it.

He yanked his pants up in a hurry, stripped off his hospital gown and shrugged back into his t-shirt, leaving it untucked. "I'll just--" he interrupted, pointing over his shoulder toward the door.

"Doctor Jackson, in my medical opinion--"

"It's Daniel," he said earnestly, stooping to snag his boots, socks spilling out the top. "And they're holding up the briefing for me, but I think they'd all appreciate it if I grabbed a quick shower first.

"Fate of the world," he said with a shrug and a roll of his eyes, "you know how it is."

He'd been waylaid by her insistent attempt to find a reason to hold him overnight, and the rest of the team had cleared out nearly an hour before. He needed to track down Jack before they all met around the conference table, so he could thank him without causing him terminal embarrassment.

She'd set the clipboard down on the exam table and now planted her hands on her hips. "It would be irresponsible of me in the extreme, to allow you to leave without a suitable observation period. I really must insist. I'll call an orderly if nec--"

Janet would've known to have the orderly standing by; she would never have fallen for this maneuver. Daniel missed her fiercely at times like this.

He signaled a thumbs-up as he backed out of the infirmary, the doc still sputtering indignantly as she followed him.

"Don't trouble yourself, I'm fine, honest. I'm frighteningly familiar with the whole--" he waved his free hand, "-- dying thing. Ask anyone. You get used to it after a while. Handful of Tylenol, I'll be good as new, you'll see," he assured her as he fumbled for the doorknob behind him. He opened it and flashed her a dimpled smile, which made her stop in her tracks. "See you later," he said rhetorically, then slipped out and closed the door behind him.

She didn't immediately follow him out into the hall, but neither did he hang around to see if she'd make good on her orderly threat. Maybe that smile had been just enough.

*****

Jack had never seen the shower area in the SG-1 locker room so filled with steam, not even that time they all came back from the Planet of the Mud People, and that one had required utensils to get off the layers of goop...

There looked to be only one occupant using the facilities, and a quick glance confirmed it was the missing Doctor Jackson, recently escaped from the clutches of the infirmary. Jack retreated to the dressing area, but not before he'd seen everything.

Daniel was standing with both hands braced against the tiled wall, as if he were asleep on his feet, head hanging down between his outstretched arms, letting the spray pound the back of his neck, water running in rivulets along the contours of his back and his heavily muscled legs. The way the light had been hitting him, he looked like he'd been carved from a chunk of alabaster. Daniel hadn't been this well developed eight years ago --or even two years ago-- but they'd all put in an amazing number of miles, running for their lives, and those things changed a person. In more ways than one.

I figured out later that's part of what made me fall in love with you.

This confirmed it; Jack absolutely was as dumb as he pretended to be, because Daniel had loved him, and Jack had sent him packing.

He'd probably fallen for Daniel the first damn day he'd set eyes on him. Spent the next year on his roof letting his recollections get fuzzy about the man's more irritating habits and turning him into some kind of a saint. Recalled to active duty to explore the galaxy and meet the Goa'uld, life became really interesting after Daniel's wife got snaked --it somehow continued to feel dishonest even thinking her name, considering he'd been mooning after her husband all that time-- and suddenly the saint with the deep blue eyes had become a martyr to his dead wife, and Jack was so fucking in love, he couldn't see straight, no pun intended.

But then, before he could find his balls and finally say something, Daniel had taken his swan dive into a nuclear bomb, forcing Jack to spend each and every day of the next fifteen months finding a reason not to eat his gun... today.

Then, of course, had come the miraculous reprieve, which was apparently totally wasted on Jack's thick skull, because clearly, he never fucking learned. Not eight months after finding Daniel tucked away on some forgotten vagabond planet, it was the Patty Duke Show all over again, with identical twin cousins, and Jack was falling all over himself in order to tell Daniel --whom he now knew was on the same goddamn page-- to shove it.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

Too little, too late, obviously. He was a goddamned moron.

Jack turned and slammed a locker closed with all due frustration, bellowing, "Daniel! Briefing!"

He heard the water shut off, and Daniel's echoed sigh, "Right there."

Jack paced in front of the lockers, the wet smell of the steamy room bringing back fleeting images stolen over the years, assembled like a stop-action peep show.

Daniel toweling his hair dry, skimming the towel over his chest and belly, down to his package, lifting it, getting into the creases, the same for the other leg, just raising a little on his toes to get the towel in there good. Swing the towel around to his back for a cursory swipe there then down between his cheeks and then arms and finally legs, tucking it around his waist for the walk into the locker room...

Just like Jack had pretended not to see him do a thousand times before.

"I'm glad you're here," Daniel said, coming into the locker area, but not meeting Jack's eyes, "I wanted to--"

"Yeah, 'bout that." Jack had no plans to do any soul-baring here at the mountain, none whatsofuckingever. "Get a move on, will ya? Weir sent me to find you, and Brightman's on your tail. I'm gonna hit the head."

With that, he retreated into the other half of the room, so he could hide in one of the stalls. He delayed, imagining Daniel getting dressed piece by piece, tossing his towel into the bin, finding his glasses, reaching for his boots. When he figured Daniel had had time to get decent, he flushed and washed up.

Except that Daniel hadn't followed the script; he was still barefoot and bare-chested and only then zipping up his jeans, when Jack came back into the room. Crap.

Daniel turned from the locker, glasses in hand. "We need to talk."

"Daniel." Jack sighed, looking everywhere but at the broad chest, nipples, and well-defined arms in front of him. "This isn't the time or the place."

"No. It's not," Daniel agreed, settling the frames on his face. "But it's all the time we have. Just these few moments." He slipped his arms into the soft gray shirt but didn't bother to button it. He leveled an expectant gaze right at Jack as he sat down on the bench with a tired sigh.

Jack shook his head and murmured, "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you--" Daniel dipped his head and frowned. "Back on Dakara, I... said things, hoping to hurt you, because of how much you'd hurt me. That was petty, and I just want you to know, I regret that, and I'm sorry."

Jack knew for a fact that this little confession was going to kill him right where he stood, unless he could get Daniel to shut the fuck up, right the fuck now. "Daniel--"

But Daniel was determined to get this said. "What you did. Bringing me back..." he winced and looked away. "I'm not sure I should thank you for that, I mean, seriously--"

"Oh, Daniel, for crissake... not this again..." Come on, what the fuck was it about bathrooms that made people spill their guts? Somebody save him from having any more of his pathetic life played out in vivid, embarrassing detail inside tiny, tile-walled rooms that reeked of disinfectant.

Daniel barked a distinctly unamused laugh as he barreled past Jack's attempt to interrupt. "You brought me back, but to what? I mean, it's all..." His eyebrows bunched, and he cleared his throat, obviously grabbing for some control.

"Anyway," he resolutely continued, "it was a brave and selfless thing to do, not knowing how it worked. I mean, it could've dragged you down, too--"

"Daniel--"

"--and I just wanted you to know that I really did... I really do... I do love you, Jack." His voice broke. "Don't ever doubt that."

"Daniel--"

"Don't." Daniel held up one finger, eyes stubbornly sliding closed as he continued to ignore Jack's attempts to derail him. "Just let me fin--"

In two and a half strides, Jack was there, right inside Daniel's personal space, grabbing him by shoulders still over-warm from the shower and pulling him up to his feet until they were practically touching noses.

"No more talking!" he whispered harshly. "Just shut the fuck up, right now."

He'd do it if he had to; he'd clamp his hand over Daniel's mouth before his lips could form the but that Jack heard coming. There was a but hovering around there, he could feel it, and he had to prevent that word from ever making it out of Daniel's mouth at all costs, because that was a sound he'd hear echoing in his head for the rest of forever. The but that comprised every reason Jack O'Neill wasn't good enough for Daniel Jackson. Wouldn't ever be.

No. Don't say it, just don't-- god, he was right...

"Who was right?"

Had he said that out loud? Fuck.

"O'Neill," he rasped.

Jack had already said too much to be sensible and safe or even sane, but when had that ever stopped Daniel? Damn the man, he'd dig and poke and push until he got everything. Might as well have it out here, get it over with, better than somewhere with cameras.

"He said I'd drive you away, just like--" Jack snapped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth to keep the words inside. Too late, though, because he could see that Daniel had clearly heard what he'd almost said. Just like I did Sara...

As if suddenly aware that he'd been grabbing on to Daniel, he released his shoulders, and his left hand dropped obediently to his side.

The right one seemed to have a mind of its own, however, about taking a turn up around Daniel's neck, probably intending to cup its warmth, feel the brush of tiny hairs above the collar, and pull him in for a kiss-- all of it seemed as necessary as breathing. Like an observer at his own funeral, Jack watched in sick fascination for long, interminable seconds as his disloyal appendage started its ill-fated and unapproved journey, before his brain finally kicked in and ordered the hand withdrawn, just in the nick of time.

"The old bastard was right..." Jack whispered thickly in the wake of that regret-filled, aborted caress.

He didn't know what to do. If Daniel had been a woman, he'd have dropped to one knee right there and begged for the forgiveness he didn't deserve. But then women, in his experience, were prone to making emotional decisions against their better judgment. How many times had Sara forgiven him, when he hadn't been worthy of it? All but that last one. Daniel was stronger than that. He was stronger than anyone Jack'd ever met.

Jack straightened up, pulling back into himself without stepping away. "I always knew I wasn't good enough for you," he admitted softly, the words forcing themselves out of his heart and through his lips. "When you told me about all the others, I knew someone like me could never measure up to that kind of life. I said a lot of things that were unkind, too. I just wish--"

A knock at the door shocked Jack out of his trance, reminding him where he was, how it looked, standing there with Daniel in a deserted locker room this way. He stepped back to the bank of lockers on the other side of the room before the door opened cautiously.

"Colonel O'Neill?" It was Walter, poking just his head around the door. "Doctor Weir wants to know if you've--"

"Tell her I found Dr. Jackson." Hands stuffed into his pockets, Jack's eyes never left Daniel's as he added with a calm he didn't feel, "We'll be there in a minute, Walter."

"Yes, sir." Harriman let the door close quietly.

"I screwed up," Jack admitted, as though they hadn't been interrupted, as though Daniel hadn't opened his mouth to interject something the minute the door was closed again. "I know I'm hopelessly archaic-- I get it. But it would never have worked. I know I could never be enough for you, and the first time I saw you with someone else, I'd lose it; I know I would. I couldn't share you, like he shared Jackson-- I'd kill them, simple as that. Anyone else who touched you. But yeah, it doesn't change the fact that I--"

Another knock, but this time, Walter didn't open the door. "Sir," he said, his voice just barely carrying through the thick door. "I know you're going to bust me down to Airman for this, but Doctor Weir called to tell me to tell you the President's on the line for you."

Jack allowed his chin to drop to his chest in defeat and let out a resigned sigh. "Thanks, Walter," he called through the door, then turned to leave.

"Jack, my god, don't go--"

Jack opened the door, then looked back over his shoulder and met Daniel's huge, surprised eyes. "I have to do this," he said sadly. "Just... for what it's worth, I'm sorry, okay? Really... really sorry..."

The door closed behind him with a resounding thunk.

Daniel sat down heavily on the bench. Not enough? Confused didn't even begin to describe him. Why would Jack think he'd insist on having multiple partners? That wasn't what Daniel had been looking for at all. Hadn't he told Jack he'd wanted to build a life with him? Hadn't he said he was tired of the anonymous sex with people he didn't know or care about? Hadn't he assured Jack he'd never cheat on him--?

Oh.

With a rush of understanding, Daniel remembered he'd told O'Neill that, not Jack. All this time, Jack had been thinking Daniel was looking for some kind of open or poly relationship, because of the past he'd so blithely described in Jack's truck, to his everlasting regret. Nothing heavy, no strings, just having a good time. When it stopped being fun, I moved on. The fact that Jackson --married-- still behaved that way supported Jack's belief that Daniel's intentions were more along the lines of a casual buddy fuck arrangement. That, and the fact that Daniel had never explicitly said otherwise.

Jack'd eat his own arm before he admits it, but he needs that reassurance.

Daniel hung his head. They'd been fools. Both of them.

*****

"I spoke with Doctor Brightman a short while ago," Elizabeth Weir said to Sam as she came into the conference room. "Doctor Jackson has more or less released himself from the infirmary."

Sam smiled as she tiredly sank into a chair. "Daniel is always anxious to escape that place, and I don't think he's slept much in the last forty-eight hours, so he probably wants to get home before he crashes."

"Yes," Elizabeth said drolly. "Doctor Brightman said he'd mentioned wanting to take a shower, but--" she checked her watch pointedly, "that was more than thirty minutes ago. When he didn't respond to the base intercom, I contacted Colonel O'Neill, asked him to find Doctor Jackson, and invited them both to join us here at their earliest convenience."

"I see."

"When I didn't hear from him, I thought to send Sergeant Harriman to track them both down, only to find that --after manning his post for the last twenty hours straight-- Sergeant Harriman had finally gone off-duty. The person who replaced him offered to contact him via radio, surprisingly enough, so I was able to pass on the message that the President is currently on hold for Colonel O'Neill in my office."

Sam didn't know the woman all that well, but she seemed a little rigid to be in charge of the SGC, where the extraordinary happened every single day. Sort of the way General Hammond had been at the beginning.

"Oh. Well--"

"The President of the United States," Elizabeth stressed. "On hold. That was ten minutes ago, and as of this moment, I've not heard from any of them." She sighed and folded her hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward intently.

"This place... these people... it's like herding cats," she said with a tight smile. "If some of them aren't back here in the next five minutes, you and I shall have to storm the locker room--"

As Sam was left to wonder if Weir had been attempting levity, they both caught sight of movement in the office beyond; it was Harriman, bustling in with the Colonel right behind him. Slouching easily, hands in pockets, Jack stood there, waiting for Harriman to complete the connection, as though none of the events of the past several hours had even happened.

When Elizabeth saw Harriman hand O'Neill the red phone, she relaxed a little. "Well. Speak of the devil. Two out of three..."

She acknowledged the Sergeant's thumbs-up with a neutral wave, and watched him disappear through her office door into the corridor.

Turning back to Sam, she asked, "Tell me again why everyone doesn't carry some kind of communication device when you're here inside the SGC?"

"It's never been an issue before," Sam assured her quickly. "We're all just really--"

"Tired, yes, I can see that," Weir agreed with an understanding smile. "And it's no wonder, two strenuous missions virtually back-to-back; SG-1 has definitely earned time off. And since we've been given the order to stand down operations until further notice, everyone will have plenty of time to rest and get their bearings before we move forward."

Sam sat stiffly, only half-wondering what that meant, more interested in getting the briefing over with, so she could go home to her own bed. She felt absolutely drained.

"Communication issues aside, this is a fascinating place to work," Weir said, making small talk while they waited for the Colonel to finish speaking with the President. "And a very interesting cast of characters to get used to.

"Master Bra'tac, for instance," she said, lacing her fingers together. "Are all Jaffa so..."

"Sexist?" Sam smiled at the nod of agreement. "Yeah, pretty much."

"He seems to take you seriously, at least," Weir countered . "I noticed he didn't refer to you as female."

"He did at first," Sam laughed. "I had to prove myself in battle, before he'd treat me like one of the guys."

"I see." She smiled tightly. "Well, I'm not particularly anxious to be 'one of the guys', but a little respect would be nice."

"Being considered one of the guys is actually a pretty big compliment from him," Sam explained. "It's the way their culture is. And believe me, it was definitely a challenge to get used to at first," she admitted.

"It doesn't seem that Teal'c is that way."

Sam smiled enigmatically, remembering their earliest missions together. "More than you know."

"Hmmm... speaking of tall, dark and brooding, you said he chose to stay behind on Dakara?"

"Yes. Daniel says he has a democracy to birth."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. "I can't wait to hear about that."

"Hear about what?" Jack asked, taking his usual place to Hammond's left. Weir's, now, and how very wrong was that? Didn't need to get used to it, he told himself, he wasn't going to be there that long.

He looked across the table to Carter and then back at Weir. "What memo did I miss this time?"

"The one about Teal'c turning politician," Sam replied with an easy smile. She loved Jack O'Neill, she did. The skilled and deadly parts, and the goofy ones too. But it wasn't the in love kind, and she was strangely at peace with that now. She wasn't certain that Pete was the answer either, but she wasn't going to make any hasty decisions she might regret later.

"Teal'c will kick ass as a politician," Jack assured her, settling back into his chair.

"Teal'c is a statesman," Daniel corrected him as he walked into the conference room and took the empty seat between Sam and Elizabeth, coffee already in hand. "And you made him Ambassador to Earth."

Jack preened across from him. "I did, didn't I."

"You--?" Elizabeth started, sitting up very straight now.

"Very sharp negotiating on your part, may I just say," Daniel continued, as if Weir wasn't even there. "Offering them Tretonin and food, as well as engineering and agricultural support, in exchange for more JackShips and any energy drones they come across, once they finally get a chance to see what they've got in those underground bunkers."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Did I do all that?" Not exactly the way he remembered it, but then his headache had been pretty bad...

"You most certainly did," Daniel insisted. "Very shrewd, Jack." He took a slurp of his coffee, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of the cup. "My hat's off to you. You had the Free Jaffa eating out of your hand."

"Jack-- what? Ships, plural?" Elizabeth felt as though she were watching a tennis match without a program. And really, shouldn't she have been in on any negotiations that had taken place?

"I don't know why you keep calling them that," Jack frowned, happy to engage with Daniel in lieu of Weir, even if he didn't understand why Daniel was being so accessible and... animated. Almost... happy. Unless maybe Daniel was thinking about forgiving him?

"It only makes sense to call them that, because right now, you're the only one we're sure can fly the damn things," Daniel replied firmly. "And once the powers that be get a look at what they can do, they're going to want as many as they can get their greedy little hands on. Have you got a better name for them? I mean, The O'Neill Bullet is a little clunky, as names go, don't you think?"

Jack assumed an air of abstract puzzlement, as if he might actually be considering the moniker, when in reality, he was trying to figure out what the hell Daniel was playing at. This was not the same man he'd left in the locker room fifteen minutes ago. He hadn't dared hope that Daniel would ever be able to see his way clear to being friends again after everything that had gone down between them. So then why all the easy banter now?

"I was thinking they should be called GateShips," Sam suggested with some excitement. "Because unless I'm way off base here, those craft were built to go through a stargate. That almost has to mean gates in space, actually in orbit. It's a fascinating idea."

"Doesn't matter what you call 'em." Jack waved a dismissive hand at both of them. "The Air Force'll come along and give it an MDS designation before the week's out. You mark my words."

Daniel sighed deeply. "That's okay. You'll still be the only one she'll roll over and purr for," he stated airily. "That craft loves you."

Jack smiled stiffly, trying to get a handle on what the hell Daniel was trying to accomplish by making him out to be some kind of master trader, and not only that, but indispensable to boot. Was he trying to scuttle Jack's plan to retire? Didn't matter, the ink was already dry on that particular stage of his life.

"Yeah, well..." He got up and headed for the table in the back. "That's just 'cause I'm so very loveable." He poured himself a glass of water from the thermal pitcher.

"You feeling any better, Daniel?" Sam asked, eyeing his clothing. The fact that he was already in his street clothes probably meant he was serious about resigning. She very nearly envied him.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," he replied softly. "I just had to figure out some things. Misunderstandings, meaning of life stuff, y'know."

Sam nudged his foot with hers, glancing toward the Colonel's back when Daniel looked her way, reading the unspoken question in her eyes.

"Mmmm, maybe," he murmured.

His gaze flickered up and caught Jack's as he resumed his seat, before he smiled sheepishly in Elizabeth's direction. "Anyway, I'm sorry I'm late. The shower felt so good, I guess I lost track of time."

"That's quite all right, Doctor Jackson," she said with an answering grin. "Now that we're all here, if it's all right with all of you, the sooner we start the debriefing, the sooner you can all get some much needed rest. I'm not sure how this is usually is done, but if you can take it more or less chronologically, I'll try to keep up."

*****

An hour later, they were finished with the high-level briefing, written reports to follow.

"Well, that was breathtaking," Elizabeth said, setting her pen down on her open journal. She wore a wide smile and a gleam in her eye as she considered the people around the table. "It must be hard to believe, after all your hard work and sacrifice for the last seven years, that it's finally over. You've done something wonderful here, even if most of the rest of the planet isn't aware of it."

"There's always more that can be done," Jack observed with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Part of the intelligence we received from MirrorWorld was the location of a sarcophagus. The other guys were able to make use of it, once they got the hang of how it works, and they haven't suffered some of the losses we've had because of it."

Elizabeth nodded her understanding at the mention of the word sarcophagus. "General Hammond has shared with me that he's pitched the idea to Hayes, along with your recommendations concerning limiting the... temporary loss of life. But unfortunately, uncertainties regarding its acquisition aside, the President has serious reservations about the device's dangers in general, based on all previous reports, and in our ability to secure it from NID in particular."

Her expression seemed genuinely regretful, and Jack didn't sense a competing agenda. "I'm not really surprised," he said sadly. "Doc Fraiser was probably the one person who could've kept it safe and used properly, and we lost her about two months back. Sure wish we'd had one then."

Daniel and Sam added their solemn agreement and then Daniel addressed Weir. "Speaking of the NID, though, what part will Kinsey play in all of this?" Jackson had told him that in their reality, the VP had been taken as a host, escaped captivity, and was subsequently believed killed when Prometheus destroyed the Al'kesh he'd transported onto.

It was probably too much to hope for here.

Weir rolled her shoulder noncommittally. "All I know unofficially is that Kinsey has stepped down, but I'm pretty sure that's not common knowledge. I haven't really had an opportunity to find out all the juicy details."

Jack cleared his throat. "Hayes just told me he'll announce Kinsey's resignation to the country, as soon as he can vet a replacement. He won't ever be in a position to hurt the SGC or its people again."

"That's something, at least," Sam quietly interjected.

"I do have a few bits of news you all might like to hear," Elizabeth told them with a sly smile. "We had a visit from Thor shortly after you left. He came in the Asgard ship, The Daniel Jackson."

"The wha--" Daniel sputtered, sitting up straighter.

"Thor made you a ship!" Jack crowed, while Sam beamed and joined in with applause.

Daniel's self-conscious frown was nearly overcome by the grins of his friends. Jackson hadn't mentioned it, but then maybe their Asgard hadn't honored him in that way. Embarrassed that the idea tickled him so much, he flashed Sam a put-on scowl that she completely ignored.

"The hyperdrive and beaming tech you asked for, as well as a--," she consulted her notes, "matter replicator, as a special bonus, have been installed in Prometheus, and in the Daedalus at Area 51."

"Well, I'll be damned," Jack said fondly. "I gather the Replicator Buster worked. Wish I'd've been here to thank the little guy."

"I did my best to represent Earth's gratitude, Colonel," she told him with a grin, "but I understand that Thor has a special affection for you."

"Yeah, he and I go way back."

"Jack keeps trying to get Thor to go fishing with him," Daniel explained, addressing Elizabeth, but his eyes only on Jack.

"That's because you keep turning me down!"

"You asked me exactly once!" Daniel exclaimed with mock indignation. "While I was on bed rest, recovering from an appendectomy!"

"A true fisherman is undaunted by such trivialities," Jack sniffed haughtily. Okay, he wasn't imagining it. He'd been the recipient of more intense, unbridled Daniel Jackson eye contact in the last hour than-- ever. There were parts of the briefing that had actually gotten him hard, just from the intense scrutiny Daniel was heaping upon him. He'd been trying not to get his hopes up, but there was clearly something going on in Daniel's million-dollar brain, because he seemed to be broadcasting on all channels.

At least Jack hoped he was reading it right...

Weir cleared her throat. "Asgard aside, I know you're all probably wondering what's next for the SGC," she said almost giddily, "and I've been giving that some thought while you were gone. The fact that --thanks to you-- Earth isn't standing on the brink of interplanetary war for a change, leaves open a lot of possibilities for peaceful exploration."

She addressed Sam with a knowing expression. "Major Carter, following your leave, you'll be overseeing the calibration of all the Asgard instrumentation, as well as accompanying both shakedown cruises." Weir's beaming face faltered when Sam failed to even crack a smile. "Major? I take it this wouldn't be a welcome assignment?"

Sam's forehead wrinkled as she stared down at the clenched hands in her lap for a split second; she worked hard at bringing her expression neutral by the time she looked up again. She hadn't thought it would be this hard to leave. "Actually? It sounds like a great assignment, it's just..."

Daniel reached out underneath the table and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She shot him a quick smile of gratitude for the support and took a cleansing breath. "I've got a lot of accumulated leave I'd like to use. Kind of a leave of absence, to see if maybe there's a life out there for me. I want to try being a civilian for a while, see if I can learn to be any good at it."

Weir looked a little daunted, but not defeated, as she leaned forward, crossed arms on the table. "I wasn't supposed to say anything, but a little birdie told me this assignment comes with--" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "--a promotion."

Sam nodded her head a little. "With all due respect, Doctor, that doesn't really change anything. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I feel it's time to take a break. I need some time to decompress from all of this."

"I see." She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. "How long do you think you'll need?"

Sam's clutch on Daniel's hand tightened. "Six months. Effective immediately."

"Oh, my," Weir exclaimed softly. After a long, silent moment, she added, "General Hammond was certain this project would be right up your alley. And getting that beaming technology up and running is a huge priority of his, with regard to the Antarctic Defense Platform." She smiled ruefully. "I certainly wish there were two of you."

"Well, you might give Doctor Rodney McKay a call," Sam suggested with a twinkle in her eye. "He's currently tormenting the R&D people at Area 51, I believe."

"He's not as smart as you," Jack stated authoritatively.

"Not by half," Daniel added sincerely.

Both comments startled her, and tears stung the backs of her eyes. "Thanks, guys," she said softly to both of them. She gave Daniel's hand another squeeze.

If Elizabeth noticed the informal way Sam referred to her CO, she gave no such indication, but noted the recommendation in her notebook without comment.

"I've already approved her leave request," Jack said evenly. "It's sitting on your desk."

"I see." Her smile was tight, striving to be understanding. "Thank you, Colonel, and thank you, Major, for the referral. It is my sincere hope that once you've had a chance to recover from your ordeal, you'll consider returning to us. The SGC will sorely miss your unique contributions."

Sighing deeply, she folded here hands in front of her and turned toward Daniel. "Perhaps I'll have better luck with you, Doctor Jackson. I've been looking at the notes you left concerning the chair room in Antarctica, and I can't tell you how excited I am. There's an awful lot of text there; how many of your staff did you say can read Ancient?"

"Just Enrique and Suzanne at the moment, beside myself."

"Well, we'll need to get several more ramped up as soon as possible," she said with a sense of urgency. "That site is so rich with possibilities, and now that we're not in crisis mode, we can take the time to do it right. We can also return to some of the cultures SG teams have visited in the past --I'm sure you have a list of recommendations in that regard-- to take the time to really explore all the new peoples we can learn from and help. I have a lot of ideas I can't wait to discuss with you!"

Her grin was wide and her enthusiasm contagious, and it would've normally been difficult not to get caught up in it, except for the fact that Daniel's life lay elsewhere now, he hoped.

"No ma'am, not me," he said gently.

She looked at Daniel, then past him to Sam, wondering if these two defections were in some way related.

"But we have the opportunity, finally, and there's so much work to do," she said, her tone incredulous, as though she couldn't imagine that for the second time in a handful of minutes, she was falling short in motivating the people she was responsible for. Clearly, there was something, some factor, at work here that she had no understanding of.

"I know exactly how much there will be to do," Daniel said evenly. "You'll have to expand the anthro and linguistics departments, to at least double their current size, and that screening and hiring alone will take six months of twelve-hour days, not to mention the travel and bullshit involved."

He handed her a sheaf of notes and photos. "This is all I was able to get done on the ship before... Anyway, god knows how long it'll take to make any sense out of Antarctica, once you can make the place habitable, but I'm just not interested. I'm sorry." He pointed with a finger. "My resignation is on the top there."

She was distressed and poorly able to cover it. Daniel Jackson was the foremost expert on the Ancient language on the planet, and if she didn't have him, she had nothing. What were the chances two trainees could decipher the mysteries that surrounded the Ancient Defense Platform?

"I don't understand. Isn't this everything you've worked for all this time? Nearly every mission report of yours over the last seven years has ended with an imperative recommendation to return to the planet for further exploration and analysis. Here you have a chance to do that-- all the exploring your heart desires, with none of the military concerns that have stopped you in the past."

Daniel's wince was accompanied by an ironic grunt as he absently rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know, I can be a bit of a broken record at times.

"And those recommendations all stand. The wealth of knowledge to be gained, the insight into human cultures, seeded by the Ancients and kidnapped by the Goa'uld, is incalculable. But I've learned in the last seven years that there are more important things in life than just understanding the universe. What was the whole point of risking our lives week in, week out, fighting to keep Earth free, if we never get to enjoy the fruits of our labors?

"And frankly, arguing with the Pentagon about headcount funding isn't how I want to spend the rest of my life," he added firmly, his gaze shifting to rest upon Jack.

Now Weir looked devastated, and she was unable or unwilling to conceal it. "Colonel O'Neill, I could use a little help here. This is critical work, which Doctor Jackson and Major Carter are uniquely suited for, and I seem unable to influence them. Do you hold any powers of persuasion over the members of your team?"

"I doubt it," he said from his easy slouch, hands folded across his middle as he appraised Daniel sharply.

He was sure now. Something had happened in the locker room after he'd left, something important, because Daniel's gaze was white-hot and aimed straight at him.

"I've been after these two to get a life for years, and it's just now sunk in that it might be a good idea.

"Kids," he mused with a shrug, as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile he didn't really want to hide. He turned his gaze on Weir. "What're ya gonna do?"

Elizabeth sighed, deciding to escalate the Carter and Jackson issues up the food chain, to see if any pressure could be brought to bear from Washington.

"What will you do now?" she asked Daniel with strained interest. "See the sights of your own planet for a change, immerse yourself in a somewhat less exotic foreign culture?"

"Nothing could be further from my mind," Daniel said, shaking his head. "I've traveled around the world since I was born, never staying in one place very long, never letting myself get close to anyone. It's been an incredibly lonely life. I'm ready to settle down in one place. Put down roots, in a very conventional sense."

Daniel felt Sam squeeze his hand in encouragement, and it calmed his erratically beating heart. He sensed they were running out of briefing, and he still wasn't sure Jack was getting the message. He had no guarantee he would even talk to him, once the meeting was over.

"Are you hoping to settle down with that special someone?" Weir smiled, glancing at Sam. If she could figure out what his weakness was, she might be able to exploit it. If they were each other's Achilles' heel, so much the better.

Not really registering Weir's assumption, because of his own preoccupation, Daniel replied quietly, "I had a chance to do that, to be with someone, but I may have blown it. It's too early to tell."

Through being subtle, he shifted his gaze straight to Jack again, doing his best to push all his hopes into the eye contact. He didn't have the luxury of time to do this, to make Jack understand that they'd both been working off bad assumptions, and that he desperately wanted to try again, this time with all their cards on the table. But he couldn't ambush him. This had to be Jack's move. All Daniel could do was signal his willingness to try again.

"Well, I hope you find everything you're looking for, Doctor Jackson. And the same request holds for you; if you find after a while that you miss the excitement, you'll always have a place here."

She turned to Jack and tried not to look as if she was fighting a battle she had no way to win. "Well. It looks like I'm oh for two here, but I won't let that deter me." Her smile was more wary than warm.

"From your briefing, it seems that there will be a great need for your services to further our understanding of the JackShips, as well as the Ancient Defense Platform in Antarctica. How do you feel about assisting with that endeavor?"

Jack tore his eyes away from Daniel with some difficulty. "Don't you have John Sheppard for that?"

"Major Sheppard is currently stationed at Nellis, while we await the build-out of the Antarctic base and the calibration of the beaming tech. He's responsible for manning the ADP for the moment.

"At your recommendation, we've located a Dr. Carson Beckett, and he's busy ramping up the screening program you brought back from the Mirror Reality. So far, he's identified thirteen individuals from among the US armed forces who possess the Ancient gene. There will, of course, need to be some kind of training for these people in the use of the Ancient technology--"

"Safety is a definite concern," Jack said seriously. He leaned forward to tap a strident finger against the table. "Technology that's thought-driven scares the crap outta me, pardon my French. I nearly got Daniel killed on the way back here, and I don't have a clue what I did --what I thought-- wrong. I left strict instructions with the Duty Officer at Peterson to keep everyone out of the hangar, on pain of court martial. No telling what would happen if a gene carrier happened to walk by the craft, or worse, touch it."

Weir was nodding. "All the more reason for you to take on a major role in developing the training necessary to make sure it's used safely," she said earnestly. "I spoke with the President this morning; he and General Hammond are so pleased with the last couple of missions you've commanded, you're in line for your own promotion! General Hammond has drawn up a very detailed plan which looks very workable to me, whereby you and I will share joint command of the Stargate program."

Jack glanced across the table at Daniel, blue eyes intent on seeing the inside of Jack's very being. "Y'know... thirty years ago, maybe even five years ago, the whole promotion thing was definitely on my list."

He turned his gaze back on Weir. "But no one has the kind of career I've had, or do the kinds of things I've done, and expect them to reward that with a star."

"Nevertheless. You saved Earth, Colonel. And Dakara. That's worth something. That's practically a 'write your own ticket'."

Jack slowly shook his head. "Nope. SG-1, all of us together, did that, not me. They were the best. They made me look good, made me better than I was. I've got no desire whatsoever to be The Man, or to spend my days thinking about some wonky Ancient tech."

This was going all wrong; she could feel it. She was losing him, too. "You can't turn down the promotion, Colonel; it'd be career suicide. Even I know that much about the military."

"I can retire," he said firmly. "Permanently, this time."

His hands were steady as he handed Weir his papers, but that didn't accurately reflect the state of his gut. "This is your set; I had Walter email copies to both Hammond and Hayes on the way up here. Consider me officially out to pasture."

Elizabeth was clearly stunned as she looked back and forth from the forms in her hand to Jack's earnest expression, then to the remainder of SG-1. Ex-SG-1...

"Really," he assured her quietly. "This is not a drill."

"Well. I'm trying not to feel mutinied. It seems I've been assuming I could count on the same level of loyalty and commitment that you've all given General Hammond for seven years. You're not back two whole hours, and I'm suddenly without the flagship team. This won't look good on my job record, I can tell you that."

"It's nothing personal, Elizabeth," Daniel said gently. "We've been doing this a long time. It's brought us together into something that's more family than team, which I've personally been grateful for more often than not. But it's also taken a lot out of us. None of us has a private life to speak of, and we've all lost people we loved. We're tired. We need a break. Sam deserves to find out if she can make a relationship work with that goofy cop who follows her around like a lovesick puppy--"

Sam punched him in the arm, using the hand that wasn't still clenched in his.

"Ow!"

"Lovesick puppy?" she tried to look insulted and stern, but it was difficult, with the blush she felt rising in her cheeks, and the smirk that wanted to answer his.

"You think he's not?" Daniel asked with a laugh. "Have you seen him?"

"Kids," Jack said in mock warning. "Play nice, or I'll have to separate you." This. This feeling was the best part of the last seven years. And it all centered around Daniel, as it always had.

Daniel was watching him again, and the look... god, it reached out and grabbed his balls.

An invitation, maybe? Forgiveness, at least.

Love was probably too much to hope for...

"Maybe it's time to let the next generation of peaceful explorers take a whack at it," Sam was saying. "The last class of cadets looked pretty sharp."

"Made me feel old," Jack replied, remembering the graduation they'd attended.

"The job's aged all of us," Daniel offered with a sigh. "It'll be good just getting a normal circadian rhythm back."

Elizabeth sighed deeply, realizing she'd lost, utterly. "And what about you, Colonel? What will you do?"

Jack understood that it could all go horribly wrong in the next few minutes. If he'd misread the signals, and Daniel was simply drawing him out, just so he could expose him, throw it all back in his face... it'd be payback time, and well-deserved.

He knew Daniel had a vindictive streak in him; he'd felt its sting after the time Daniel'd gone ten rounds with the sarcophagus, and Jack had found himself on the wrong end of his gun. Daniel usually saved his wrath for whatever Goa'uld was currently pissing him off, but Jack had no doubt that he'd earned that kind of ranking, given his behavior these last few days.

But Jack also knew that if there was even a chance this was legit, then anything less than putting himself out there wouldn't be enough to even the score between them. For all the years Daniel had put himself on the line, waiting and hoping, leaving himself open to potential ridicule and disgust, in fear of receiving pretty much everything Jack had thrown at him in the front seat of his truck just last week. Not to mention, he thought with no small amount of self-recrimination, the spectacular matinee in a mossy field on Dakara...

Jack had a helluva lot to atone for, and this was only a tiny step.

He drew a deep, calming breath, feeling three pair of eyes weighing on him as he opened his mouth to address Weir's question.

"Ever since this wacky adventure began eight years ago, with that big round thing down there and a geek with too much hair and a bad case of allergies, my place has been by his side." He nodded across the table toward Daniel, then switched the focus of his comment there. "I lost my way for a while, and lately I've been about seven kinds of ass--"

"Eight," Daniel corrected quietly, gaze steady and searching.

Jack smiled. "Eight," he agreed with a tilt of his head. "But if that spot's still available, and if he'll have me, then that's where I'd like to be."

A slow smile spread across Daniel's face as he realized that Jack had gotten the message after all. Their problems weren't solved by any means, but they had a chance now.

"That place has always had your name on it," he stated softly.

Sam gripped his hand extra hard, and he acknowledged her joy with a glance and a squeeze before he released hers.

Grinning, Jack got up, scooching the chair back as he did so. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his BDUs and gestured with a nod of his head toward the door.

"After you, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel got to his feet and gathered his things, meeting Jack's smiling eyes with a smirk of his own.

"Oh no, Colonel O'Neill. Age before beauty. I insist."

Jack shook his head slowly, letting the joy of possibilities fill him as he made his way around the table. "Don't give me that 'age before beauty' crap. We started out this thing with me watching your six, we're going out with me watching your six." He gestured toward the door with an expansive arm wave. "Run along, PhD-Boy Try not to touch anything on the way out--"

Daniel started moving, arguing over his shoulder the entire way. "What is it with you suddenly and me touching things? This is a completely unfair reputation I seem to have acquired somewhere, that I totally don't deserve."

"Do so."

"Do not. Jack, name me three times--"

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open as she watched them bicker their way out of the briefing room.

She blinked at Sam. "What just happened?"

Sam's grin widened as she wiped away a few tears, happy for her friends. "The inevitable, I think."

*****

Daniel collected a few personal items from his office, then met Jack at the topside checkpoint to sign out. They were both wearing the street clothes they'd had on at the start of the mission, the day eight years of friendship had self-destructed. He shook off the unpleasant déjà-vu moment.

It felt odd, leaving the mountain in the middle of the day, as though they were playing hooky. He squinted at the glare of the cloudless sun gleaming off the sea of chrome, too lazy to get his sunglasses out of his briefcase.

"You-ah, got the message," he said casually as they walked across the lot to the truck.

Jack grinned. "Loud and clear, with the looks you were giving me." His step was light, as if his whole life had turned around.

Daniel shrugged. "I've never been any good at being subtle, you know that."

"That's okay," Jack said as he popped the locks. "I've been known to be a bit on the thick-headed side sometimes, so the direct approach is usually more reliable anyway."

They settled into the truck, Daniel slouching down into the corner and lowering the visor to block out the sun as Jack took the switchbacks on the way down the mountain with his usual caution.

They didn't talk, each man lost in his own post-mission adrenaline low tide. Daniel was fatigued like never before, a deep, soul-wearing tired that longed for dark and the comfort of a bed.

Jack --who still considered himself on duty, because he hadn't gotten them home yet-- took the turn onto Academy Drive with the tail-end of the light and tried to remember what he had at home in the way of food. Probably nothing edible.

They spoke together. "We ne--" "How--"

Daniel sighed. "Um, can you stop over there?" He pointed.

"What? Now?"

"Yeah, just... pull over. We need to talk, and I don't want to try to have this conversation in your truck." He spared a quick glance to his left and caught Jack's eye.

"Right," Jack said, noting the tightly pursed lips and understanding the reference; neither one of them had great memories of the last time they'd been in Jack's truck.

He signaled and turned off Academy and into Palmer Park. Charlie's Little League had played there. "There's a larger pavilion around that bend or--"

"Here's fine," Daniel said, indicating the parking lot and small shelter. Two families were just gathering up the remains of their picnic and heading across the grass to the baseball diamond beyond. It was still plenty cold, but there apparently had been a few warm, sunny days while they'd been off-world, because the only snow left on the ground was in dirty piles, pushed into the corners of the parking lot.

Jack parked and shut off the engine, locking it up after Daniel closed his door.

"Some reason we're doin' this in the open? House is only about twenty minutes from here."

"Yeah, but this is neutral territory," Daniel said, taking a seat at one of the picnic tables.

"Ah." Jack took the spot opposite him, offset by about six inches. Easy enough to keep an eye on their surroundings over the other guy's shoulder, without it looking as if that's exactly what they were doing.

Squinting against the bright sun outside the edges of the shelter roof, Daniel folded his arms across his chest, then leaned his elbows onto the table.

"I need to understand the shape of this," he said. "I'm retired as of now. Is there--"

"A waiting period?" Jack read his mind, because that's what they did after eight years. "I don't care if there is. It'd be prudent not to be too flagrant about things in public, but I don't think Hayes will come after me. He needs me as backup for the chair, at least for a little while."

"So...?"

Jack shrugged, then mimicked Daniel's position, their elbows nearly touching. "I'm free now."

Daniel just stared at Jack, not seeing anything but his own reflection in the mirrored surface of his shades. "Do you know how long I..." he swallowed hard and looked away, mouth desert-dry that they were even talking about it, what they might be able to have. They were close. It might even work this time, but there had to be ground rules.

He cleared his throat. "I think we need to be as up front with each other as possible, so there're no more misunderstandings," he said firmly. "I can't go through something like that again, Jack."

Jack winced, finding the top of the splintered table fascinating. "Yeah, I was pretty stupid."

"We agree on that. But I wasn't without blame either. We were both stupid, and we very nearly lost everything." He closed his eyes, almost in physical pain.

Jack leaned, nudging Daniel's elbow with his own. "Hey. I can't guarantee not to be seven kinds of ass in the future, but--"

"Eight," Daniel insisted wryly. "I counted."

Jack smiled. "We'll do the best we can."

Daniel nodded. "But we need to make sure we're both looking for the same things in this, so there's no guesswork."

Jack recognized the beginnings of a briefing when he heard one, and he waved his hand in a 'be my guest' gesture. He wasn't really in any position to be making demands.

"Can you... can you take off your sunglasses?"

Jack didn't need to ask why. He complied, hanging them out of a pocket by one ear piece and giving Daniel his full attention.

"I'm in love with you," Daniel said quietly, letting himself fall into the warm, brown eyes. "I want you like I've never wanted anyone in my life ever, and if you don't think that's more than a little frightening, you've very much mistaken. You weren't wrong before; I have a suck-ass history of long-term relationships, but I like to think that I've learned from that, and I'm willing to put the effort into making this work. I want us to be a couple, equal in all things, and I want us to be completely exclusive. Forever. Whatever it takes."

Jack's heart was pounding, nervous and eager for what lay ahead, and terrified by how close he'd come to throwing it away. He was being presented with a second chance, and he had no intention of fucking up with his own petty inadequacies. "Ditto."

"Jack--"

"I'm tryin' to be expedient here. We want the same stuff. Exclusive. Forever. Right now." He tapped the table with an insistent forefinger.

Daniel smiled and scanned the perimeter with amused eyes. "That last one's not in my power to grant you, unfortunately. I'm so wiped out, I know I wouldn't be able to do right by you; I'll probably pass out at the first sight of a pillow. And I still feel guilty about our first kiss being so..."

"So?"

"So. Y'know." Daniel shrugged uncomfortably, glancing away.

"Forceful? Commanding?"

"Angry. Violent." He frowned, ashamed. "I can do better."

"Better?"

"Softer. More tender. Romantic."

"Huh."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"S'there...?"

"No, uh-uh." Jack cleared his throat. "I'm good."

"Uh-huh..."

"Look, I don't have any preconceived notions about any of this. Blank slate here, remember? Not like you have a lot to live up to, y'know?"

"I know," Daniel said softly. "And I also know what a gift that is, believe me. That's why I want us to take our time. Take it easy. Get to know each other gently. We have our whole lives ahead of us."

"Got no problem with any of that."

"Good" Daniel said with a relieved air. "So how about you drop me at my house, and we can get a good rest, and maybe go out to dinner tomorrow--"

He winced. "That I have a problem with."

Daniel's shoulders slumped, and his eyes drifted shut. "I'm exhausted, Jack, I can barely keep my eyes open. These last few days--"

"Six."

"Six?" Daniel blinked.

"We stepped out onto Shiny Buiding Planet six days ago."

Daniel stared in disbelief. "Is that all? It seems like a month. A lifetime."

Jack agreed. It had been the most densely-packed, most emotionally and physically draining mission he could remember in a long, damned time, and he had the dull headache to prove it.

"I don't have any expectations, just so you know," he said softly.

"Well, I do," Daniel nearly snapped. "I've fantasized about being with you for nearly a decade, and I want to do it right. I have plans," he added sternly.

Jack knew Daniel was tired, and that he was on edge. Another reason to take it slow. "Plans are good," he agreed. "I'm as fond of plans as the next guy. But you may have noticed over the last seven or eight years how often Plan A gets sidelined."

Daniel opened his mouth to interject. "Aht!" Jack silenced the objection with a finger. "That's why there's plan W. For when Plan A through Plan Whatever all bite the big one, you just keep moving.

"You'll get no arguments from me about taking our time. None. But we do it together. I'm not going to change my mind about this --about us-- but you can't be sure of that, and I won't have you sitting alone in your house wondering if I'm at my place freaking out. We can go to your place instead if you want, but we're together, wherever it is, for as long as it takes for me to earn back your trust."

Daniel was taken aback by Jack's speech, and the firm resolve he saw in his eyes, and he knew his shock showed on his face. "Thank you," he whispered.

Jack nodded curtly. "Problem solved?"

"Ah, yeah. It is. I guess I can take the guest room tonight--" he started to get up, but Jack stilled him with a hand on his forearm.

"Uh-uh, you're not hearing me. Same room. Same bed. Our bed. We'll just sleep."

This time, Daniel was ready for the uncharacteristically touching words and filed them in his heart without pause. "Hah. If only I were a good enough man to lie next to you in a real bed and not need more than that now. Your aftershave alone--"

"Daniel, I don't wear aftershave," Jack said, exasperation lifting his words louder than was probably prudent. "Unless you count that Mennen stuff..."

"Oh my god," Daniel muttered, eyes wide, "this is so bad. That's all you? All these years? I'm doomed."

"You're punchy," Jack countered with an arched brow. "And you were electrocuted a couple of hours ago; I hear that takes a lot out of a guy." He considered him fondly. "Danny, relax," he said softly. "Whole lives, remember?"

"Yes, absolutely. But I want our first time to be special, Jack. Memorable. This is the kind of thing you really can't rush through."

"I get that, and I appreciate it, believe me. And it'll be beautiful, all of it. You know I'm already so hard just sittin' here talkin' about it, that I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to walk, right?"

Daniel shook his head in wonder. Maybe he was a little punchy. "You're no less socially insensitive than I am, how can you be saying all the right things? Who are you, and what have you done with my Jack O'Neill?"

"Your Jack O'Neill wants to take you home and put you to bed. Right now. Just sleep, that's all. We won't even stop for munchies first."

Smiling, Daniel shook his head in awe at the wonders of a universe that had landed him in this place, at this moment. "Come on."

"Finally," Jack said, slipping his shades back on. "Where to?"

"Your house."

"Un-uh. Our house now."

*****

The sound of the deadbolt clicking home seemed loud in the otherwise silent home, but no sooner had the noise faded than Daniel had closed the space between them. "Let's go," he whispered against Jack's lips, nipping with his teeth and nudging Jack's nose with his own.

"Just sleeping, right?" Jack croaked, wanting the lips, wanting it all, not sure what to do with his hands. Daniel hummed and brushed their lips together more firmly. "Daniel?"

"Not sure I'm really up to any more talking today, but I've gotten a second wind, and I'm too wired to sleep," Daniel said softly, cupping Jack's warm neck with a large, cool hand. "Come here."

"But--"

"Compromise," Daniel breathed, slipping his other hand underneath Jack's arm to settle, fingers splayed across the small of his back, pulling him close. "Trust me," he added, leaning gently against him until Jack's butt connected with the door. He continued to lean, letting Jack gradually come to bear his full weight as he continued to nuzzle playfully at Jack's mouth.

"Always," Jack replied thickly, hands lighting finally on Daniel's hips, holding him firmly now, eyes closing as their lips and bodies met. Waiting for it.

But the kiss was nothing like the one on Dakara. Daniel's lips were soft and warm and dry, and there was zero appearance of tongue. Jack remembered the way Daniel had taken him in the temple, how his tongue had pushed in, demanding immediate submission, his hips shoving him back against the wall of the chamber, Daniel's hardness driving into his own. It had been coarse and rough, and Jack had gotten so hard, he'd nearly passed out from the sudden blood loss to his brain.

He missed sparring with Daniel's tongue, and mourned its absence with a desolate whine.

Concerned, Daniel pulled back. "Jack?"

This wasn't what they'd agreed to. They'd agreed to wait. Tonight was just for sleeping. If Daniel was gonna change the plan, he was all for that, but he was already too far gone for gentle. "Damn it, Daniel," he rasped, "quit fucking teasing me."

Daniel searched his face, eyes darkening at the demand. Jack felt the fingers on the back of his neck move up into his hair, then clench, slowly drawing the hair strands tight until his scalp tingled. With something that might have been a whimper, he let his head fall back to the wall, baring his throat as Daniel's grip continued to tighten.

Then Daniel's clever tongue was on his neck, tasting him, teeth scraping, testing for purchase against the stubble, his breath harsh beneath Jack's ear. Jack could feel Daniel hard against him, and wished they were lined up better. He heard the growling litany, desperate words of need and possession and every one of them went straight to his dick.

"...fucking mine, you hear me? God damn it, Jack, I didn't want to get into this tonight. My control's shot, and I'm gonna hurt you--"

"I need this as bad as you do. Just do it--"

Panting, Daniel forced himself away, blood pounding in his ears. "No," he ground out, out of breath and half blind with need. "Not up against the door, not the first time."

He grabbed Jack by the wrist and towed him down the hall toward the bedroom. "Shoes," he ordered, leaving Jack by the dresser as he continued on to the windows to close the shades.

Jack obediently toed out of his loafers, then kicked them under the chair and stripped off his socks. When he glanced up, Daniel was already nude, sans glasses, and very, very hard.

"Oh, Christ..." Jack murmured. He swallowed, his throat painfully dry.

Even seven years of shared showers couldn't prepare him for the sight of Daniel's erect cock. It wasn't quite straight, rather it curved gently to the right, the head broad and wide, peeking out from the generous foreskin. He allowed himself to look as Daniel approached him, to admire the size of it as it moved, swaying in front of him, eager to feel the shape of it in his hand.

Daniel reached for him, unbuttoning Jack's shirt with quick, deliberate fingers, letting the material slide from his shoulders to fall unnoticed to the floor. Keeping his gaze locked firmly with Jack's wary eyes, he opened the belt by feel, and lowered the zipper. "Get out of these."

Jack did, then shucked his boxers, and found himself with an armful of warm, naked man. He wrapped his arms around him, eyes tightly shut, brain in sensory overload as he rested his chin on his friend's shoulder, and his body registered the acres of naked skin all around him.

"Daniel," he whispered brokenly. He knew Daniel had to be feeling his pounding heartbeat against his own bare chest, and he damned his body's betrayal of his nervousness.

"I'm here," Daniel said, pulling away with a gentle stroke to Jack's cheek. "Go lie down." He steered Jack toward the bed, then closed the door and turned out the light.

"I wanted to look," Jack complained, leaning up on his elbows in the dim light.

"We can have show and tell in the morning," Daniel said as he dropped down to one knee on the end of the bed. "You'll thank me in ten minutes, when you're too wiped out to get up and turn it off." He made a deliberate effort to soften his voice. "This moving too fast for you?"

"Not fast enough. I'm gonna blow any minute here."

Daniel smiled and ran his hand up Jack's calf. "You just be sure my mouth's on you before you decide to come, okay?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Oh, yeah, I do. It's important to me," he said, knee-walking up the bed a little. He regarded Jack carefully in the sliver of late afternoon light that made it into the room around the drawn shades. He was coiled tight with nervous uncertainty, and that helped Daniel ratchet his own desire back a bit.

"Y'know, in a way, this is my first time too," Daniel said, moving closer, letting Jack look his fill, loving the feel of Jack's eyes raking over his body. "Making love with a man I care about, am deeply in love with." Eye to eye now, Daniel lowered himself onto a forearm and knee beside Jack, gradually letting him take a little of his weight but not covering him completely, careful not to overwhelm him.

"This is for keeps, you and I," he whispered, kissing him tenderly as their bodies molded together. "Never, ever letting you go..." The kiss deepened, and Jack's tongue happily wrestled with Daniel's.

There might've been a moan to commemorate that.

Jack's arms went around Daniel's broad shoulders and pulled him down more fully, an explosion of sensation different from the press of their clothed bodies by the front door, and more exquisite than the quick hug a few minutes before. This embrace had warmth and weight and intent, and was laced with the forbidden. The body in his arms was angular and heavy, the legs entwined with his own were hairy and densely muscular. Daniel's rigid dick poked him in the belly, his warm sac an intimate moving fullness across his own groin. Jack groaned into the kiss and arched up to get closer, to get more friction. There was no doubt he was in bed with a man, and more turned on than he could remember being in a long, damned time.

Daniel ended the kiss, but unerringly found the pulse point in Jack's neck and began to worry it again with his teeth.

Jack offered it up gladly, cupping Daniel's head to him as encouragement. "God, Daniel..." Daniel growled in response to the plea, prompting Jack to reach down with his free hand to grab a handful of Daniel's ass and squeeze it unmercifully. "You're killing me. Don't ever stop."

Daniel released Jack's neck and laid an erratic path across his shoulders and chest, pausing when he came across a pointed nipple surrounded by silvering chest hair. He took it into his mouth, suckling gently, and when no feedback was forthcoming, he bit it sharply. Jack's body arched, and his needy groan went straight to Daniel's dick.

Smiling at this new-found knowledge, Daniel continued to move down Jack's body, using broad swipes of his tongue to map the way. "I'm going to suck you," he promised breathlessly. "Make you come, swallow you down." With a lick to Jack's hipbone, he paused and looked up, unsurprised to find Jack watching him back. "I've never wanted that intimacy before now."

"What about you?" Jack asked as Daniel spread his knees apart and insinuated himself in between them.

"Don't worry about me," Daniel replied, pushing his face into Jack's groin with a deeply needy groan, lifting his testicles with his nose. "I'm right where I want to be."

Jack's fists were working the sheet hard, clenching and releasing rhythmically as a distraction from the feel of Daniel's face between his legs. "Ah, for cryin' out loud, Daniel, I'm not sure how long I can hold off," he panted. It'd been a long time since he'd had real, live, interactive sex, more years than he cared to admit. He squeezed one off every once in a while in a strictly maintenance capacity, when he couldn't get to sleep, but he never tried to make it more than that; he'd just never had an interest in making a production out of it, not when he could close his eyes, change his grip and be done in about five minutes.

But kissing, well, that was something you couldn't really counterfeit. And boy, could Daniel kiss. It wasn't surprising that Daniel was kissing him there, either, he supposed, and he was damned good at that, too. He let his head fall back to the pillow and clenched his teeth against the need to cry out when Daniel sucked one of his nuts into his mouth. He tugged it a little, then let it gradually slip out with a wet pop, and only then did Jack trust himself to breathe.

"Vocal feedback is good, Jack," Daniel insisted softly, lips against the taut skin of Jack's scrotum. Jack could feel the warm breath and the vibration of each syllable. "And it cuts down on the awkward, 'what kinds of things do you like' discussion."

"Everything," Jack admitted breathlessly, toes curling, desperate for Daniel's mouth now. "Anything you want."

Daniel hummed wickedly and used long, wet licks of his broad, knowledgeable tongue on his sac. "When we're both more rested, I'm going to want to take my time down here. Explore every single inch of you in slow, mouthwatering detail..."

"Oh, god..." Jack complained.

Daniel inhaled and hummed again, rubbing his cheek along Jack's shaft. "Mmmm, you smell so good." He turned his head and noisily slurped at the slit with nimble lips as his fingers strummed Jack's balls.

"Daniel..." Jack warned, his voice strained to the limit.

"You close?"

"Y'think?"

Shifting up onto an elbow, Daniel grasped Jack at the root and slid his mouth down over the head, then applied his tongue along the bottom as he slowly pulled off, the suction causing Jack to pant in earnest. He teased the tiny bundle of nerves at the base of the head with the tip of his tongue, and felt Jack's cock twitch from the intensity of the stimulation, even as Jack emitted a high-pitched whine that was both warning and plea. He slid Jack's cock deeply into his mouth and pulled off with covered teeth. After the third such stroke, Jack convulsed, his abs tightening as his dick swelled, a prelude to the spill.

Daniel waited, making smaller, consistent movements, his own anticipation bringing him close to the edge as well. When the first splash of semen hit his tongue, he groaned at the bitter flavor of the seed, so distinctively different from the taste of his own.

His hips began thrusting of their own accord against the rumpled sheets, bowing to his over-stimulated body's instinctive need to orgasm. He came spectacularly, moaning and writhing as Jack filled his mouth. He continued to tongue him gently as he began to soften, and stopped entirely when Jack's hand stroked his hair.

When the rushing sound in his ears began to fade, Jack breathlessly exclaimed, "Huh. And here I thought all that talk of celestial choirs was just bunk..."

With a final kiss to the head of Jack's penis, Daniel chuckled and made his way back up the bed on shaky limbs.

"My god," he said, flopping down heavily on the free pillow. " I had no idea you were such a sap. With kids and dogs, yes, but--"

"Not with macho archeologists?" Daniel turned his head and their eyes met. "You've always been my weakness, don't you know that?" Jack said softly. "I've been just barely holding on for the last eight years, trying to keep that little fact from being too obvious to the rest of the universe. I don't see any reason not to enjoy it, now that I finally can. Unless it bothers you..."

"God, no. Not at all," Daniel said seriously, turning onto his side and resting a palm on Jack's cheek. "It's just going to take some getting used to." Jack's expression still looked uncertain, though, and so Daniel smiled and delivered a gentle, loving kiss to his mouth.

On a hunch, he lifted Jack's arm and edged closer, laying his head on his shoulder and a bent leg over his thigh. He pulled the damp sheet up over them and snuggled in. "This okay?" he asked.

Heart full to overflowing, Jack's arm enfolded Daniel's warmth and hugged him close. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Chapter 6 : The Color of Happily Ever After is Vague and Changeable

Epilog - Three months later

Daniel talked during sex. Couldn't get him to shut up. Filthy, arousing, deeply moving murmurings that ripped Jack in half and had him spewing come like a teenager. Jack was sure he'd been proposed to at least once.

But afterward, when Jack was filled with all the eloquence of the well-laid, when he was actually inclined to wax poetic --or at least sappy, and who the hell wanted to be sappy all alone?-- all Daniel wanted to do was sleep. Immediately.

Bastard.

In the weeks following their mutual retirement, Daniel sold his house and moved his personal things into Jack's larger home, donating the extra furniture to charity. They shared the housework, the yard work, and the cooking, the latter occasionally evolving into something very messy that invariably ended in equally sticky sex.

Daniel signed up with a small local company to tutor languages part time, and Jack coached Little League on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Daniel went along, if he didn't have a student, and always attended their games on Saturday mornings to cheer them on.

They dressed up and went out to dinner and a movie most Friday nights and took golf lessons together during the week. Daniel took up jogging. Jack played with pottery. There were never PDAs, but they made absolutely no attempt to hide the fact that they were a couple.

And at home, there was a lot of show and tell, and Jack was deliriously happy.

He learned the fine art of blowing a man, and that being able to deliver that kind of exquisite torture was incredibly empowering. Managing to keep Daniel on the edge and begging for release, his cock hard and leaking, straining for attention, while Jack tongued his sac with infinite care and patience, carefully applying gentle suction to each smooth testicle in turn, was a skill he was proud to have learned. He was eager to practice and refine his technique with just the barest excuse or provocation, much to Daniel's continuing delight.

It wasn't all that different from going down on a woman, Jack found, obvious topographical differences aside. Through trial and error, you found out where their 'spot' was and then touched on it only occasionally while you worked maddeningly around it until the very end.

Daniel's spot was where Jack's was, along the bottom and just under the head, but since he was uncut, it was usually covered by his foreskin. When Jack skimmed it back, it exposed delicate pleats of skin, and he learned pretty fast that direct pressure there killed him. But he'd also found that tickling the left side of the pleats with broad swipes of his tongue was what got Daniel off the hardest. Jack loved knowing that about him. It was an intimate, proprietary piece of information that made Jack smug to think about.

It'd been shaky the first couple of times, hard to get used to the feel of Daniel's seed on his tongue, much less swallowing. But Jack paid attention when Daniel went down on him, because his enthusiasm for the act was both inspiring and arousing, and he always seemed eager for the swallowing part. Curious how to get around the 'ew' factor, Jack'd waited until Daniel was just nodding off to sleep then asked him why he got off on it. The groggy answer startled him.

"It's the part of you that's only mine," Daniel'd mumbled against his chest.

Which seemed perfectly obvious on closer inspection; after that, Jack had increasingly fewer problems drinking him down.

And when he finally allowed Daniel to come, body gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat earned in the ardent pursuit of pleasure... Jack, oh god please... breath held until the sensations grew too large to contain or ignore, erupting helplessly uh-uhhh... semen expelled with a groan of blessed relief. Afterward, eyes closed, breath rasping, Daniel would kiss him, and in those precious moments before he finally checked out, Jack could taste his love and gratitude in every sloppy sigh.

It nearly brought Jack to tears, whenever he thought how close they'd come to losing it all.

But there was something still out there, something they hadn't done, and Jack was finished being patient about it. They were good together. The comfortable, happy, forever kind of good. Jack thought it was about time for Daniel to put out.

When he heard Daniel's shower turn off, he slid the sandwiches he'd just prepared into the refrigerator and made his way to their bedroom, where he found Daniel already in a pair of jeans and yanking a shirt out of a drawer, glasses safely on the dresser.

Without a word, Jack plucked the shirt out of his hands and push-walked him to the wall.

"You're holding back on me," he accused, mouth on Daniel's neck, hand on his crotch.

"Well pardon me for wanting lunch first," he chuckled, brazenly stretching his neck out for more attention. He grabbed Jack's ass and pulled him closer, encouraging the weight holding him to the wall, "and for wanting to drag it out for a few minutes."

"Not a few minutes. One hundred and two days."

"That's--" Daniel frowned, "really unfair making me do math while you're sucking on my neck." He ran his nails up into Jack's scalp, loving the growl that produced in his lover. "Are you saying we're having a... three months and some anniversary? Don't you think that's a little--"

"If you say girlie," Jack glared, "I may have to spank you."

"Excessive," Daniel countered innocently, liking the feel of Jack's body pressing tightly up against him as he went back to mouthing his throat. "I was going to say excessive. But I tell you what. I'll go out and get you some flowers after lunch, okay?"

"Uh-uh. Got something else in mind."

"Yeah?" Daniel smiled, waggling his eyebrows a little. "Wha--"

"This," Jack said, giving Daniel's groin a healthy squeeze. "Been waiting, Daniel. A long time. Done being patient."

Daniel didn't even pretend to misunderstand. "I thought we'd work up to that," he said levelly.

"We have been. I'm there."

"Jack, it's--"

"Complicated, yes, I know, so you've said." He counted off on the fingers that weren't gripping Daniel's package. "Lube. Stretching. More lube. Penetration. That about sum up the 'complicated'?"

"You've--"

"Been poking around the internet, yes. Dial-up sucks, by the way, but I think I get the gist."

He got right up in Daniel's face and tasted his lips a little, not exactly a full kiss, something closer to aggravating than satisfying. "You wanna guess what I was doing while you were out running this morning?"

"Surfing for gay porn?" Daniel smirked, wriggling his hips a little.

"Uh-uh. Took a shower. Cleaned myself out for you."

Daniel's smirk disappeared in the face of Jack's boast. Based solely on vague comments made in a prison on Hadante, he'd always assumed Jack wouldn't want that, that he'd insist on only topping. "Oh, fuck," he breathed.

Jack grinned. "Now you're catching on. Think you're up to gettin' complicated?"

Daniel watched him for a long moment, gauging his seriousness through narrowed eyes, wondering why Jack was being deliberately provocative; this was almost a dare. On a hunch, he spun them, shoving Jack up against the wall, hands over his head, and nailed him with a thrust of his hips.

"You don't really get the complicated part, Jack," he said dangerously. "Up to now, we've been making love. Hand jobs and blow jobs and frottage are all gentle and nonthreatening. That's not what you're asking for. When I fuck you, it will hurt. I'll be careful, so you don't tear, but it'll feel like my cock is slicing you open, no matter how slow I manage to take it. When you voluntarily take another man's dick into your body, let him fill you with his come, that's about as gay as it gets. No going back from that."

Jack didn't even try to escape the hold; that wasn't what this was about. He appreciated the out, but he didn't want it. "Never going back," Jack said, heart pounding at the reenactment of the Dakara incident. "You're what I want. All of you."

Continuing to hold Jack's body with his own, Daniel remembered Jackson's boast, Jack loves it when I go alpha on him, and he figured maybe there were similarities between the two universes after all. Still, there was reality, and then there was reality, and even in the most loving relationships, anal sex didn't involve puppies and rainbows. He couldn't risk what they had on any more assumptions.

"We've never talked--"

"And we're not gonna," Jack said firmly, shifting his hands a bit in Daniel's grip to bring him back to the matter at hand. "Got nothing to do with us. With this."

Their faces mere inches away, Daniel's gaze bored into Jack's, searching for some sign of fear or indecision, but he found none. Obviously, Jack was looking for something more dynamic than what they'd been engaging in thus far; not necessarily rough, but something a little more... powerful. He'd have to trust that Jack understood his own limitations, and offer him a way to change his mind without losing face along the way.

He dropped Jack's wrists and unfastened his baggy cargo shorts, letting them fall to the floor. He was surprised there were no cotton boxers in his way when he reached for Jack's dick, but schooled his features not to show it. He gripped Jack's package in one hand and the back of his neck with the other as he took Jack's mouth in a bruising kiss, then whispered, "You sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure," Jack said hoarsely when Daniel released his mouth. "I want you to fuck me."

Jack was already hard in Daniel's hand. Daniel knew that would change.

Daniel stripped off Jack's shirt, leaving him naked, then steered him toward the low chair by the dresser as he stepped out of his own jeans. "Suck me," he said standing between his knees. He cradled Jack's head in his hands and thrust gently into his mouth while he allowed himself to enjoy Jack's service. Letting his head fall back and his eyes close, he ran a hand across his own bare chest, stopping to give each nipple a hard twist. He felt his dick twitch in response both times, causing Jack to gag a little with the sudden change in girth.

"That's it," he said softly. "Take it all. Get me good and hard."

Jack tongued him eagerly, bringing the partially erect organ up to full mast, holding the foreskin back to get at the frenulum, making Daniel hiss from the sharp stimulation.

"That's so good," Daniel said, and kissed him, bending down only a little so Jack would have to crane his neck up to reach. "I love tasting myself on you," he smiled.

"Backatcha," Jack said a little breathlessly.

"You ready?"

"Past ready."

"Let's get you on your knees, then," Daniel replied with a nod of his head as he stroked himself idly and watched Jack arrange himself near the foot of the bed.

Other than some pretty extensive rimming, they'd only done very limited ass-play up to this point; one liberally lubed finger rubbing Jack's hole, exploring his depths, finding his prostate. Daniel would have preferred to expand upon that a lot more before tackling the big event, slender toys and such, maybe started with Jack doing him. But as many times as Daniel had suggested either of those scenarios, Jack had always managed to change the subject.

He was a stubborn man and he knew what he wanted.

Daniel stood back to consider him. "Oh, Jack... if you could see what I see. Your legs spread, your hole still hiding from me. Your bag... my god, how luscious does that look, hanging free that way?" He stroked it with the backs of his knuckles, then turned his hand, cupping the weight of it.

"I wonder if you'd let me shave you sometime? Smooth as a baby's bottom, like mine. You'd be surprised how much more sensitive they are when they're free of hair. Still, you look good enough to eat, don't you?"

Daniel's voice, his words..."Oh, god, Danny," he breathed. He loved this part.

Daniel knelt behind him on the floor and inhaled deeply, then rubbed his stubbly face against one furred cheek. "It means a lot that you'd get yourself ready for me," he whispered. "Clean musk is the most potent aphrodisiac known to man."

He centered a hand on each globe of Jack's ass and pulled them apart gently, exposing his hole to the air, registering the tiny gasp Jack made as he blew gently across it. With the broadest part of his tongue, he licked over the opening, eliciting a deep, needy groan from Jack. "Delicious," he proclaimed, going back for more, each lap less gentle than the last.

Before long, Daniel was growling, and Jack was moaning and pushing back on Daniel's tongue, causing his heavy scrotum to swing with the motion. Daniel scooped it up so he could capture the tightened sac in his mouth, worrying it with his tongue, exerting just a slight suction as he lightly milked his rigid penis with gentle, teasing fingers.

Jack was out of his mind with lust when Daniel abruptly released him. He was so close to the edge, the loss of contact was killing, and he remained rigidly kneeling in place and breathing hard, just trying to get his control back.

He became aware of Daniel off to the side, rummaging in the nightstand drawer for the lube, and then coming to stand close. At this angle, his dick seemed enormous, and loomed threateningly, a single drop of pre cum glistening at the slit. Jack could smell his arousal, felt the dark, coiling need it stirred within him.

"Still want this inside you?"

Jack leaned, and with a deep sigh of satisfaction, took the organ into his mouth. He held it on his tongue reverently as he breathed through his nose, swallowing convulsively. His heart thrummed with joy hearing Daniel's appreciative groan.

"I don't need to fuck you, Jack," Daniel said, his voice richly resonant with unmistakable desire as he stroked Jack's shoulder with loving fingers. "I'd be very happy to use your mouth."

Jack pulled off, placing a gentle kiss on the bare head of his dick as he met his concerned gaze. "I need this," he replied softly, hoping Daniel wouldn't question it further. "Just do it. Please."

He could never tell Jack no. He tipped his face up with a finger under his chin and bent to kiss him, whispering, "I love you so much." Then he moved behind him, running a hand along his side down to his rump, maintaining contact like you would with a frightened horse. "I'll go real slow, okay?"

He applied the lube generously, to both his index finger and Jack's hole, and pushed in slowly, pressing down, down, until he was in deep. Before long, Jack was mewling and pushing back eagerly for what he knew was coming.

Finger still inside, he knelt, grasping Jack's package, bringing his nearly unyielding dick back between his legs, so he could place his mouth over it. Humming as he held the cock still on his tongue, he turned his hand, stroking in and out with his finger, knowing that the extremely exposed position would make Jack climax quickly.

"No--" Jack gasped, leaning away, trying to extricate his cock from Daniel's mouth. "Don't make me come this way. I want--"

"Let me do this first," Daniel said reasonably, finger still slowly caressing him inside. "You'll be more relaxed once you come, more open. There'll be a little less pain."

"No, please--"

"Jack. I don't wanna hurt you--"

"Daniel..."

He couldn't miss the hitch in Jack's voice. He read the reluctant pleading of a man who'd been trained to never allow himself to appear vulnerable, and yet who, Daniel was beginning to learn, seemed to occasionally need the kind of release only submission to another could bring. This wasn't something he'd had a lot of experience with up to this point, but he'd do anything it took to give Jack whatever he needed.

So with a gentle tug, Daniel let go of Jack's cock and stood. He withdrew his index finger and replaced it with the middle two, already slicked up. Keeping his left palm on Jack's hip, he moved his fingers slowly but steadily, until they were sheathed completely inside his body.

"Feel the stretch?" Daniel deliberately stayed away from Jack's gland as he rubbed his back in gentle circles. "This is two fingers. I'm a little more than twice this big."

He could feel Jack's rectum spasming around him, the sweat beginning to form in the small of his back, the tremors running through his frame. Fear. Daniel faltered, reluctant to push him past what he was really ready for.

"This has been a good first step, Jack. Maybe tomorrow we can--"

"Uh-uh, I can take more."

Daniel didn't ask him if he was sure, but withdrew part way and slid the pinky in beside the other two fingers, curling his index finger toward his palm. He reached down with the other hand and wasn't surprised to find that Jack had gone soft.

"Uh, god..." Jack panted, lowering himself onto his forearms, head hanging down, ass still prominently displayed. He knew how he must look. Only for Daniel would he even have attempted this.

"Let me stop," Daniel begged quietly, fingers stilling. Knowing that he was causing pain to someone he loved, his own erection was waning. "Penetration isn't for everybody, you know. There's no shame in changing your mind. Fucking isn't some mandatory brass ring for all homosexual relationships. You won't disappoint me if you decide this isn't what you want--"

"Don't you dare," Jack complained breathlessly, "leave me hanging this way. Not now."

Daniel leaned closer, brushing his cheek across Jack's spine. "You know I won't leave you hanging," he whispered. "I love bringing you off with my mouth. Let's just... call this done, okay? Please?"

Jack's ass muscles clamped down on his fingers, as if forbidding him to leave. "More," he demanded tightly. "Here. Don't make me beg."

Daniel's jaw clenched, and suddenly, he got it. Jack'd known this was going to be bad going into it; he needed for Daniel to take charge of it --of him-- and just get it done. To make him take it.

It wasn't even about the fucking.

"Your ass won't take me as easily as your mouth does, Jack," he warned as he slowly pulled his fingers out.

Gently pressing down on Jack's shoulders forced his ass higher, and he nudged Jack's legs wide with a raised knee. Tucking all four slippery fingers tight, he inched just the tips of them into Jack's reddened opening.

"You'll feel the burn for real now," he stated simply. "Pretty badly at first. It'll help if you clench deliberately and then bear down. I'll move forward on the release. Ready?"

Jack clenched as instructed and then opened, feeling Daniel's hand taking up the tiny space his internal stretching had just made. This pattern was repeated half a dozen more times at more or less regular intervals until Jack thought he'd die from the fire in his ass. He bit his lip against the pain.

With a little more than the first knuckle inside, Daniel breathed, "That's it, Jack, take my hand..."

Jack's breath was unsteady, strained due to the unrelenting agony. "Yeah, so far, I'm not seeing the attraction, though," he panted. "Do ya think you could find--"

Daniel rotated his wrist, nudging Jack's prostate with the pad of his longest finger. "This?"

"Ohfuckyeah," Jack gasped, his back bowing under the stimulation. The resulting spasm allowed Daniel to sink inside another fraction of an inch. "Jesus. Do that again--"

Daniel made sure to bump it again as he removed his hand, wiping the lube off on his dick then kneeling up behind him on the bed. Grasping hold of Jack's hips, Daniel slid smoothly into his slackened hole, burying himself nearly to the hilt with little resistance. Now that they were this far along, he knew the best thing for Jack would be to hurry and get to the good part.

"Ohhh..." Daniel's eyes closed as he savored the feeling of the tight passage hugging his cock. He took a moment to rein in his own need, so he could wait until Jack was ready for him to begin thrusting.

But dear god, it was good... Beyond just the sheer physical sensation of being surrounded and held deep, the heat, Jack's pulse, this single, exquisite, crystalline moment, frozen in time, layered with the soul-deep satisfaction of the complete joining of their bodies.

Slowly, he leaned over, draping himself along the gentle curve of Jack's back, until his lips connected with his neck. "Ease down," Daniel whispered, "your knees have to be killing you." He encouraged Jack to lower his hips so that he was prone on the bed, Daniel settling himself in behind him.

With a groan as his dick made contact with the cool sheets, Jack obeyed, surprised that the cock inside him was less of an issue than Daniel's fingers had been. He was full, nearly uncomfortably so, but the burn had morphed into a warm, insistent need. Daniel's legs lay outside his own, but their hips were nicely stacked up, and Jack loved that the weight of it felt so right.

Daniel was balanced on forearms placed on either side of Jack's shoulders, covering him, boxing him in completely, enfolding him in warmth and safety and care.

Jack strained to hear the whispered words behind him, "...baby, love you so much. So fucking mine, you've always belonged to me. Promise... take care of you, give you whatever you need... always, always, always..."

Gentle words of love and devotion and trust. Filled, held, and serenaded with loving words, Jack didn't ever want to move. He clenched, dragging a needy groan from Daniel's throat.

"Let me enjoy it for a minute, will ya?" Daniel begged from behind him. "I never in a million years thought you'd want something like this."

"I'd want it a whole lot more if you'd get busy back there and do your job."

"My... job..."

"Isn't it your job to keep me sexually happy?" Jack asked, craning his neck around.

"I don't remember seeing a job description of any kind," Daniel replied archly.

"Well, seeing as how you're apparently watching my six at the moment, seems to me you're in charge of making the fireworks happen," Jack announced. He folded his arms beneath his head like a pillow and closed his eyes with a sigh. "So whenever you're ready."

Daniel blinked. Bitching at him one moment and ordering him around the next. It was like being in the field again. "And what will you be doing?"

"Presumably, lying right here and becoming increasingly happy."

Daniel struggled not to smile. "I see."

"C'mon, do your stuff." Jack clenched around him again.

"Don't DO that!" Daniel hissed. "Trying to stay in control here."

"Yeah? Well, trying to get fucked here," Jack griped back, squeezing again. "Get a move on."

With an exasperated grunt, Daniel began to undulate against him, his cock gliding more than thrusting into the slippery channel, the angle causing the ridge of his dick to slide past Jack's prostate on each withdrawal stroke, making Jack whimper continuously. This position was the gentlest one he knew, because the angle left room for only the most shallow penetration, and made up for it with a greater amount of skin contact.

"Ohhh god, you feel so good..." Daniel murmured into the back of Jack's neck. He mouthed the area, nipping the salty skin with gentle teeth.

"Fuck!" Jack gasped. "Right there-- do that again!"

"That?" Daniel asked coyly. He circled his hips and came at it from a different angle. "Or that?"

"Both!" Jack groaned. "Oh god, don't stop!" The feelings were amazing, full and needy and getting more insistent. His dick was bent back between his legs, and he could feel Daniel's sac rubbing against his with every achingly slow thrust. He was just a couple of tugs short of coming; he wanted to, needed to, was desperate to, but couldn't get his hand underneath him to work his own dick.

When Jack started to struggle, Daniel tensed, not moving. "Hurt?"

"NO!," Jack stated emphatically trying to arch up under the heavy man. "God, no, and if you stop, I will kill you. I just need... I can't reach--"

Suddenly getting that Jack needed more then prostate stimulation in order to come, Daniel cooed, "Hey, shhh, not a problem." He withdrew all the way and backed off a little so that Jack could shift around. "Now you're open, we can do it a different way."

"Didn't mind the other way," he grumbled, rolling over onto his back. "I just went down wrong and couldn't reach anything." Jack lifted his legs, holding them back as far as he could. Offering. Ordering, maybe. "Well? What're ya waitin' for?"

Daniel's mouth hung open, the image of Jack O'Neill on his back with his legs in the air, pulled back to expose his reddened hole, slack and slippery with lube, forever seared into his brain. He ground his teeth and gave his balls a sharp tug, wincing as he did so. "Could you possibly look any more wanton?" he growled.

"Well, yes. But I'd probably need a feather boa to do it right--"

The mental image made Daniel chuckle, which made getting lined up to get back into Jack's hole a bit of a challenge. Up on his knees and holding Jack's legs, he shuffled closer, still grinning with amusement.

"You think you could focus, please?" Jack sniped, but there was no heat in it.

"Sure, Jack," Daniel said pleasantly, thrusting into his ass with a snap of his hips. "This focused enough for you?"

The move rocked Jack back onto his shoulders, making him howl. "Ye-ah, that!" He started panting, eyes firmly closed.

Daniel held Jack's calves, spreading him open as he delivered another thrust of similar power and then another, and that's when Jack started chanting, "Yes, yes, yes, yes..." in time with each one.

He scooped his balls up out of the way with one hand, so Daniel could get in deeper, and grabbed his dick with the other. He was nearly bent double, but he couldn't manage to care. Daniel was finally fucking him, and it was way better than any of the porn clips he'd found on the internet.

Using Jack's legs as leverage, Daniel continued to forcefully drive into him. Lips pressed into a firm line of concentration, he asked, "This what you wanted?"

"God, yeah. This position has definite advantages," Jack observed. This was what he'd been after, all right. Not the penetration itself. He'd had no idea he'd actually enjoy it, and the truth of the matter was, it'd hurt like crap at first, and he'd been pretty terrified at several crucial points.

But this was the payoff, Daniel, being this way with him. Strong, determined, insistent. Undeniably male.

And Jack could admit it in the privacy of his own thoughts-- experienced. The colorful history that had made Jack feel so inadequate in comparison was erotic to contemplate, now that he knew Daniel was his.

As Daniel'd talked him through the painstaking process of opening him up, Jack had imagined Daniel's vast array of partners, each adding to the wealth of knowledge he brought to their bed, skills he was using for Jack's benefit now, and to take his own pleasure in Jack's body. Daniel knew what he was doing, because he'd fucked a lot of men; the great part about that was that Jack knew he'd be the last man Daniel ever touched this way.

Jack took a long, firm pull on his cock, now fully hard again and leaking. "Ohhh... yeah, that's got it. Think you can find it, turned around like this?"

"Unless you moved it in the last thirty seconds."

"I thought you were the straight man here?"

"As it happens, not so straight," Daniel observed, thrusting home, tagging his gland over and over. "How's that?"

Jack's back arched as he let out a pitiful moan, tears springing to his eyes. "Yea-ahh," he coughed. "Right there. Exxxcellent," he crooned.

Daniel resumed thrusting, angling for Jack's prostate; he didn't think either one of them were very far off. "You're so beautiful spread open for me this way," Daniel whispered. "So deep inside you now..."

"Ohhh, fuuuuck..." Jack groaned at his words, eyes closed as Daniel continued to stroke into his body. He clenched, loving the feel of Daniel's big dick in his ass, then smiled at the pained sound which emanated from his lover as a result. Daniel had known how good this would be, and he'd held off, not wanting to ask Jack for something he might be reluctant to give. He'd have to give him hell for that later, when it was Jack's turn to top.

The sounds Jack was making were deeply resonant and dripped with sex. Daniel was hard-pressed to stay focused on his task. He arched into another thrust, careful not to push in too deep. "You feel so fucking good all around my cock," he panted. "I'm not sure how long I can--"

"Don't hold back," Jack said. "I'm ready now. Waitin' on you."

"You first," Daniel urged, thrusting up high inside now. "I wanna feel you come..."

His gaze nailed to Daniel's, Jack tightened his grip and let go. His shoulders came up off the bed, his mouth open, breath coming in low, growling pants as his climax began.

Daniel continued to move as Jack's orgasm claimed him, the rippling in Jack's channel threatening to send him over the edge as well. He ground his teeth, waiting for Jack to finish, until the last splash of jizz hit his chest.

When he'd finally sunk back into the bed, panting, arms weak and flung out to the side, Daniel took a moment to feel smug for reducing the bad-ass Colonel to the equivalent of a blissed-out rag doll, then took more measured strokes so that he could catch his breath and enjoy a slow build up for his own climax.

"I've wanted you this way since the first moment I ever saw you," he whispered, thrusting slowly. "So many dreams about you, about us. Sometimes I can't believe we're finally..." his voice broke, eyes stinging with wonder and gratitude. He winced, the pleasure so intense and encompassing as to be nearly painful. He stroked Jack's calf, bringing it up to rest against his chest and turning his face into the warmth, rubbing the warm, hairy skin against his cheek. "I love you so much..."

He felt Jack's warm palm settle heavily on his hip, a gentle squeeze of agreement.

He was grateful Jack had pressed the issue, so that they'd both had the opportunity to be together this way, but that didn't necessarily mean it would ever happen again. He wanted to stop right here, to freeze this moment in time and make it last forever, just in case... But he could feel his orgasm sweeping up behind him, and now that Jack had come, there was no way he could hold off any longer. He bit his lip, and let it overtake him.

He wanted to be careful with Jack, but it had been so long, and his body was taut with arousal and wired with lust and all he knew was the snug warmth that welcomed him, and the staggering need to bury himself as deeply as possible inside his lover's body. A connection unlike any other, leaving part of himself inside another human being. He'd only ever done that with Sha're.

Satiated, Jack watched as Daniel panted through clenched teeth, each breath bottoming out into a low growl, his abs clenched with the controlled effort of each thrust. But he was so far away in this position; the only parts of them touching were Daniel's hands gripping his calves and the place where they joined. He ran his hands along both of Daniel's thighs, just to increase the skin contact, and found him slick with sweat from the exertion of the fucking.

Daniel's face betrayed the onset of his orgasm-- eyes closed, head falling back as he succumbed to the power of it, his hips jerking now with sharp little thrusts powered from the small of his back as he milked it for all it was worth.

After the surge crested, he released Jack's legs and fell forward onto his arms, filling him up, his penis lurching forcefully as it slid through the passage now slippery with his semen. He took another couple of lazy thrusts just for the novel experience of doing it raw. The pleasure was so exquisite, it took his breath away. He rode out the aftershocks, head hanging down, breathing irregular, heart pounding, the blood rushing into his ears, his upper lip going numb.

"You gonna live?" Jack murmured quietly, reaching out to cup his cheek.

"Oh, god yeah. That was..." Words utterly failed him. Christ. There was so much they needed to talk about, so much he wanted to understand in order to give Jack what he apparently needed. But he just didn't have the brain power at the moment to even start a discussion like that.

He bent closer, taking Jack's mouth in a tender kiss instead. "You okay?" he whispered. "Did I hurt you?"

Jack smiled and let his eyes fall closed. The orgasm had been just as good as any other way they'd learned to love one another. But the words and the acts which had led up to this one were filling his head and his heart with stuff that had never been there before, stuff he didn't really understand, but that had finally started to soothe the dark need in his belly. He hadn't known that would happen when he'd started this, but something had notched into place today that he hadn't even been consciously aware had been missing.

He just hoped like hell Daniel wasn't going to make him talk about it.

"Nope," Jack reported sleepily. "M'fine. You're beautiful."

"That's my line." Daniel reached for a small towel from the nightstand and used it to wipe off Jack's chest, then slid it around the back of him to catch the drips as he pulled slowly out.

"I thought for sure I was going to pass out," Daniel said, chuckling weakly. "I don't ever remember coming that hard in my life--" He abruptly stopped talking, when Jack let out a low rumbling snore and rolled over onto his side.

"Jack?" he whispered. "Are you--" he leaned over to look, and sure enough, Jack was sound asleep. "Well, damn."

He dragged the towel across his own groin, then tossed it in the direction of the hamper. Settling in behind Jack, he pulled the covers over them and snaked his arm across Jack's middle. A little nap sounded like just the thing, actually. Talking could wait.

*****

There'd been an unspoken agreement between the three of them, that after seven years spent living in each other's pockets, this new phase of their lives would be taken a day at a time. A kind of social moratorium while they sorted out relationships, and settled into something that resembled real life. But when Sam called a few days after their three-month unofficial anniversary and asked if she could come over, Jack insisted they grill to celebrate.

He and Daniel worked side by side in the kitchen, getting the accompaniments ready, while the steak marinated and the grill warmed up.

"Bet she's gone back to work at the mountain already," Jack said as he checked on the macaroni and cheese bubbling in the oven.

"No way," Daniel replied. "She was really looking forward to seeing if she and Pete could make a go of it." He paused, considering the scallions he was slicing. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Well, unless they asked her to come back for a really quick project, something that wouldn't tie her down for too long." Dumping the onions into a large bowl of mixed greens, he shoved it into the refrigerator next to the pitcher of dressing. "Glitch with a piece of equipment or something."

"Nah, she missed the excitement," Jack insisted. He took a slurp of his beer. "The danger."

"Un-uh, that's more your shtick." Daniel folded his arms across his chest. "But yeah, her gizmos, maybe."

"Gizmos then. Take the bet?" Jack challenged with a ridiculous wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Not much of a bet, if I win either way, is it?" Daniel smirked, pressing him firmly back into the counter for a deeply sensual kiss, snaking one hand down inside the front of Jack's jeans.

Gasping at Daniel's cold fingers, Jack complained, "Christ, Daniel, way to cause unnatural shrinkage, there."

But when the cool, insistent digits found their way behind Jack's balls, he started to get with the program and kneaded Daniel's butt as he whispered into the kiss, "If you don't let me put that steak on, we'll have to call out for pizza."

"Hmmm..." Daniel considered, nibbling at the corner of Jack's mouth. "Eating steak or eating Jack..."

"And then you get to explain to Carter why the scrumptious London Broil I promised her is still raw," Jack added smugly.

Reluctantly, Daniel released him, shooing him out to the grill with a swat on the rear. "You promised to call her Sam, remember?" he called after him.

"Yeah, that'll happen."

When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, they were both surprised to find not only Sam, but George Hammond, dressed in civvies and beaming at them, merriment and warmth twinkling in his eyes.

"I asked Major Carter not to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It worked, sir." Jack smiled, reaching to shake his hand. "We're flabbergasted. Take your coats?"

"Thank you, Jack."

"You look great!" Daniel wrapped Sam up in a hug, simultaneously reaching around her to shake the General's hand.

"Thanks, so do you. Good to see you haven't killed each other," she added into his ear, pitched just loud enough for Daniel's hearing, making him cough to cover his snort of amusement.

Pleasantries were exchanged and libations poured. No one asked about Pete.

"We're about twenty minutes away from the juiciest London Broil you'll get on this side of the Rockies," Jack announced, perching on the arm of the couch next to Daniel.

Smirking at Sam, he gleefully rubbed his hands together. "Plenty of time for you to drop the bomb."

"Bomb, sir?" she asked innocently.

"Hey!" Jack said with contrived indignation. "I've been practicing not calling you Carter, ever since yesterday. You need to drop the sir."

"Right." She cringed. "Sorry. Jack."

Jack grinned. "There ya go." He turned to Hammond expectantly. "Bombs away, sir."

Chuckling, George replied, "It's not much of a bomb, really, as bombs go..."

Jack turned to Daniel and announced smugly, "I think this means I win."

"Will you let the man finish?" Daniel admonished.

"I'm just sayin'."

"Go ahead, sir," Daniel insisted.

Hammond sighed. "I'm just asking a couple of favors of some old friends, Jack."

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but Daniel elbowed him in the side. "Wait, will you?"

Jack winced, far more dramatically than was strictly warranted. "A favor, sir?" he gasped in a strained voice.

Hammond smiled at their hijinks. "Before I start, I'll tell you what I told Major Carter yesterday. Although both of your security clearances have lapsed, the President has waived the requirement, due to the nature of the discussion we're about to have."

"Oh, that doesn't make me nervous at all, sir," Jack stated with a tiny grimace that accompanied the cold chill now filling his gut. Truth was, he was plenty apprehensive, and comedy was a poorer shield than it had ever been.

"I'm real glad, Jack, because they think they've found Atlantis."

"They?"

"Doctors Weir and Douglas."

Daniel smiled. "They found the rest of the gate address?" he guessed.

"Eight chevrons," Sam confirmed. "Probably somewhere in Pegasus, as near as I can figure it. It's a dwarf galaxy in the local group. I'll know more tomorrow, when I can take a look at the most recent charts."

Daniel shook his head in wonderment. "Wow. That's..."

Jack didn't miss the fact that Daniel was now sitting on the edge of the couch. Jack's hackles were up, big time, but his few months of retirement hadn't dulled his ability to mask his discomfort. "And the favors, sir?" he asked lightly.

"We've asked Major Carter to come back to help us pinpoint the location. And I personally would feel a whole lot better if you, Doctor Jackson, would double-check the accuracy of their translations."

Hammond turned to Jack. "And we'd like to ask you to confirm Major Shepherd's estimation of the Ancient Defense Platform with respect to ordnance and the potency of the ZPM. There have been some concerns that the US is unintentionally in grave violation of the Antarctica Treaty because of the ADP."

Jack's gut response was to tell him flat-out no. There was no way this was going to end well, and he wanted no part of it. He and Daniel were happy, completely, fucking deliriously so, and how dare these two come in here and put a torch to his life this way, after everything? After all the years it'd taken him and Daniel to get onto the same page and into the same bed.

"And...?" Jack prompted sharply, eyes narrowing.

"There is no 'and'," Hammond promised. "We need an honest evaluation of the efficacy of this mission, considering the extraordinary cost, and I've got too many years behind me, of SG-1 watching our backs, to make do with the untried second string. Not for something this important."

Jack just stared at Hammond, while the room went silent, and a thousand permutations of just how badly this could go wrong ran through his mind. Happily-ever-after didn't figure into any of them, and he could feel his control slipping. He tried hard to keep his temper from flaring, but his teeth were grinding together, and he couldn't seem to relax his jaw. "Sir, I--"

"Um, Jack?" Daniel interrupted softly. "Shouldn't you check the--"

Attention briefly broken, Jack took a deep breath, grateful for the reprieve. "Ah, yeah. Excuse me," he said, making his escape to the deck.

After the door closed behind him, Hammond stood. "Give us a few minutes."

To Daniel, the softly delivered request felt just like the order it probably was.

*****

"Something stinks, sir," Jack snapped without bothering to turn around to confirm the identity of the person joining him on the deck, "and for once, it isn't my cooking."

Hammond took up a spot behind Jack and to his left, his back to the glass door he'd just come through. He clasped his hands behind him and tried to keep his manner friendly and nonthreatening.

"Hank Landry's in charge of the SGC, now that Weir's been pulled for the Ancient outpost. I didn't pick him; he wouldn't have been my choice. He's rigid. Old school. A little... hard line, if you ask me. Sort of like I was, eight years ago. He hasn't been there long enough to understand that what we do brings people closer than any other type of service. It's just the nature of the beast."

He pursed his lips and relaxed them, feeling the tension gathering in his shoulders anyway. "His memo landed on my desk at Homeworld yesterday afternoon, demanding you be recalled to active duty for this.

"Just between you and me, I suspect he has another agenda, in addition to his rather public feelings concerning DA/DT. I convinced the President to table the request, at least until I could speak with you."

He stepped closer, so they were side by side in the gathering dusk, the smoky smell of grilling meat wafting in the gentle breeze. "It isn't as bad as it sounds, Jack. With the Asgard beaming tech operational, it's an afternoon, two at the outside. Landry's lobbying hard, but it doesn't have to go that way. That's why I'm here, so it doesn't come to that."

Hands in his pockets balled into tight fists of fragile control, Jack considered Hammond's words. He should've resigned his damned commission after he'd retired; commissary and BX privileges weren't worth this.

As if he were standing watch offworld, his eyes scanned the hedge along the edge of their property and then the slender line of bright blue underneath the rapidly descending evening. He'd never missed the feeling of a weapon in his arms more keenly. He and Daniel were under attack, plain and simple. Made no difference he was standing in their back yard, and the assault was coming from Washington.

"Before Dakara," Jack said quietly, "when I was trying to tell you about the personnel discrepancies in the other universe, and you stopped me... you knew, didn't you, sir?"

"About you and Doctor Jackson? I had a hunch, Jack, that's all."

"Because...?"

"Nothing overt," he hurried to assure him. "But I thought I could see in the two of you..." He chuckled a little. "Don't take this the wrong way, Jack, but you reminded me of my wife and me, when we were first married. Even when you vehemently disagreed with one another about something, you retained a deep connection, shared sensibilities, if you will. Over these last few years, I can't tell you how much I came to rely on the way your differing viewpoints managed to give me a well-rounded picture of any situation.

"You've always been two halves of the same whole, Jack, and that was especially clear when Doctor Jackson came back from being ascended. Even when he wasn't sure who he was, it was clear he knew you, knew he belonged with you."

"That's--" Disturbing. Jack didn't know what to say to that. I'm sorry? Thanks for noticing? We'll name our first kid after you? He wondered if it had been that obvious to anyone else.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the anguish, still there underneath the thin veneer of calm. "Nothing ever happened, sir," he stated firmly to the grill's cover, tracing the edge of the wooden handle with one finger. "Hell, we never even acknowledged it to each other, before Mirror-World. And then afterward... I got stupid. Almost lost him. Twice. It's important to me that you know--" He paused then and swallowed hard. "I never touched him that way, before the ink was dry on the paperwork. You have my word."

"I never doubted it, Jack," George said quietly.

Jack turned toward him now and met his concerned gaze full-on, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, jaw tight and unyielding. "But you should also know that's not the case now. We've been together for three months, and I've touched him plenty. I won't give him up."

They'd recall him over his dead body. He knew people who'd help them disappear; they could be out of Colorado before first light, multiple layers of camouflage between this identity and the next. He'd had half a dozen escape routes mapped out by the time Hammond followed him outside. He'd lose some time explaining to Daniel about the necessity of running--the man was nothing, if not a question machine-- but he was certain he'd come around, once he understood that if the Air Force got Jack again, the two of them were finished.

Hammond nodded his understanding. "I know, Jack. I'm not asking you to give him up."

"Aren't you?" It came out a bit more brusquely than was probably polite.

"No," he said gently. "Just a favor, that's all it is. Unless of course, you want more..."

*****

"I feel like I should apologize for Jack," Daniel said quietly to Sam.

It was still light enough that he could see the rigid, unyielding line of Jack's back, as he seemed to stand guard over the grill. It bespoke of barely a concealed rage that Daniel didn't quite understand. Hammond's request had sounded like little enough; he couldn't imagine what Jack could be reading into it.

"I don't know what he's so strung out about."

"I imagine it was a shock for him, finding the General on his doorstep," Sam said. "But he was pretty firm, when he came to see me yesterday, that he didn't want to give you guys a heads up."

Daniel nodded, still watching the two men out on the deck. "Jack would've found an excuse to say no to the meeting," he said with certainty.

"And then we wouldn't be here, getting ready to enjoy the juiciest London Broil this side of the Rockies."

Grinning, she patted him on the arm, partly as reassurance, and partly just to get his attention. "Have you been losing your mind with all the peace and quiet of retirement?"

Peeling his eyes away from the scene in their back yard, he returned the smile, realizing just how much he'd missed working with her every day.

"Well, I've learned I'm terrible at golf," he offered wryly. He grabbed the wine bottle and refilled her glass and then his own. "And that Jack likes to think he's helping me with that. And you're a fine one to talk, anyway."

He cocked his head to the side. "So how about I put my foot in my mouth, while we're alone for the moment, and ask about Pete?"

She sighed and flashed him what might have been a grimace. "Pete's fine. We're just... taking it easy. He was really gung-ho about the leave of absence thing. Started calling realtors and making plans and--"

"And he asked you to marry him, didn't he."

She frowned. "How'd you know that?"

He took another sip of his wine and shrugged. "Explains why you're so spooked."

"Yeah," she said softly, grateful that Daniel understood. "I guess I'm just really not ready to settle down yet, you know? It's like screaming along for seven years at one seventy-five, and then suddenly slamming on the brakes. Apparently I needed some deceleration time, between fighting the bad guys and the white picket fence, and I was just feeling a little--"

"Hemmed in?"

"Exactly. So we're still friends, still seeing each other, but we're both dating other people too. We'll see where it takes us. Where we are in a year or so."

"That's good," he said honestly. "Don't close any doors, and let yourself have some fun and sow some wild oats, before you settle down."

"That's probably all it is," she agreed. She found she was a little reluctant to tell him she was also dating a woman, in case Chey turned out to be some kind of rebound phase Sam was going through, after having met her counterpart in the other reality. They were still pretty new.

"Oh, by the way, Teal'c sent word through Siler that Bra'tac's firmly seated as head of the council, and that outlying groups of Jaffa are sending representatives to Dakara every day. He estimates they're almost a hundred thousand strong already. I'm going to see if I can contact him for some specifics, once I get to the mountain tomorrow."

"That's great. Say hi for Jack and me. And ask him if he's been able to look--"

The sliding door opened as Jack came in bearing a large platter of meat, followed by General Hammond.

"Dinner is served!" Jack said expansively as he swept into the house and up the steps to the dining room.

Surprised, Daniel looked at Sam as if to say, check out that turnaround. Neither man was carrying an air of anger, so Daniel was hopeful that Hammond had been able to reassure Jack in some way that would allow their first official dinner party to proceed amicably.

As they joined the others, Daniel remembered his interrupted train of thought. "Oh, hey, Sam, did Teal'c say anything about finding drones in the underground bunkers?" He put the macaroni and cheese on the table, handed her a basket of rolls and the pitcher of dressing, and then went to retrieve the bowl of salad from the refrigerator.

Sam trailed along behind him. "Siler didn't mention it, but I'll ask."

"Yeah, good. Y'know, since the place was full of Ancient tech, there might even be a loose--"

"ZPM!" she said excitedly. "Of course! And I can probably rig something for Prometheus to use, to scan for the energy signature from orbit!"

"See," Jack beamed at Hammond as he started to slice the hunk of meat into thin, juicy slabs, "what two great minds in the same room can think of together?"

*****

"So let me get this straight," Jack said over the remains of their dinner, "the chair's out of juice?"

"Not at the moment, no," Sam replied, fingering the stem of her wine glass. "It's still got whatever you said it had after Anubis. But as you know, gating to another galaxy takes a tremendous amount of power. According to all the simulations McKay's run, just opening the wormhole to Pegasus will completely deplete our ZPM."

"And it's a one-way trip? You're sure?"

"Unless there happens to be a fully charged ZPM at the other end, yes," George answered. "But you can bet your ass we're checking Dakara first, thanks to the two of you."

"And if there's not another one somewhere, Earth's left defenseless," Jack stated flatly, looking at the faces around the table in disbelief. "And this is a good idea-- why?"

"Because Earth is safer now than it's ever been," Daniel offered, pushing his plate away. "Thanks mostly to the Mirror Reality, we're Replicator-free, there are no Goa'uld left to speak of, we're armed with two enormous battleships, complete with spiffy Asgard toys, not to mention the little JackShip. We're finally in a position to be able to explore, for knowledge, for cultural alliances-- Jack, these are the Ancients! This isn't just some other civilization we're talking about. These are the gate builders. The potential wealth of knowledge and technology we might encounter there outweighs anything we've come across since we stepped through the stargate."

George and Sam were silent as the two of them debated, but Jack responded incredulously, "You can't honestly expect that after all this time, there's any hope of actually meeting them?"

"Who knows? But isn't just the possibility reason enough to go?" Daniel implored. "The benefit to humanity is far greater than any potential risk there might be."

"Says the man who used to die for a living," Jack said grimly.

*****

Guests gone, table cleared, Daniel poked his head into the kitchen. "I'm gonna hit the shower. You need a hand with anything?"

"Almost done," Jack replied as he slotted another plate in the rack. "Save me some hot water."

He wiped down the counters and turned on the dishwasher, then set about locking up and shutting off the lights.

He headed directly for the bathroom, where he stripped off his clothes and left them in a heap on top of Daniel's own discarded pile. He stuck a gob of Crest on his toothbrush and started taking out the frustration of the evening on his enamel.

"Not sure we can claim our first official dinner party as a resounding success," Daniel said from behind the shower curtain.

Jack shrugged as he pulled the brush out of his mouth to spit. "The steak was good. Mac and cheese was a little dry."

"I'm not talking about the food," Daniel said, "and you know it. Sam and the General practically ran out of here, the minute dinner was over."

Yeah, Daniel was peeved; his voice was several decibels louder than it needed to be to be to be heard over the sound of the running water.

"Told ya we should've had pie for dessert, 'stead of cake," Jack said petulantly once he'd rinsed.

Daniel stepped out of the shower to grab a towel, leaving the water running. "I'm not talking about that eith--"

He glared at Jack as he brushed past him. "What is wrong with you?"

"You made a pretty good case for them," Jack said with an offhand ease he didn't feel as he stepped into the shower and drew the curtain. "For going, I mean. Not sure it really matters what state the chair's in."

"They need to go, Jack. This is important."

Jack began to wash with trembling hands, his belly full of nervous dread. "If anybody goes, it should be you." It was true, but that didn't mean it didn't make him sick to his stomach to have to say it.

"Yeah, like that'll happen," Daniel muttered.

He hung up his towel and scooped up both sets of dirty clothes from the floor, stuffing them into the hamper.

"Wait--" he spun around, staring at the shower curtain as if he could see the man behind it. "Is that what all this is about? Jack, I'm not going anywhere. I made a commitment to you, and I take that very seriously."

Jack took a moment to selfishly let the statement settle into his heart before he replied. "That was before another galaxy opened up, Daniel," he said reasonably, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. "No way you could've known that would happen."

Daniel pulled the shower curtain open with an angry snap. "It doesn't matter. You're my life now. I can't leave you. And I won't."

Jack wiped the water out of his eyes and scowled at the degree of insulted pique he saw in Daniel's bare gaze, giving back some of his own. He had no desire to be Daniel's ball and chain, ever, and if that was the case, he'd cut the chain himself --right here, right now. "And exactly how long will it take, before you start to resent me for keeping you from your destiny?"

"How long will it take before you finally believe that you're the most important thing to me? My destiny," he made little air quotes between them, "is right here, with you. Period. This is not a conversation that even needs to happen. I'll help Hammond with the translation, because he's my friend, and he asked for my help. If this is real, they need to go, and I support that wholeheartedly, but I have absolutely no desire to trade you for Atlantis. None. Are we clear on this?"

Relief started to filter into his soul as Jack turned off the shower and slicked the water from his hair. "Clear."

"Good." Daniel stalked into the bedroom and yanked the covers back, dropping down heavily on top of them.

Jack dried off and then gave them a little breathing room, taking the time to straighten the bathroom and hanging the bathmat over the curtain rod so it could dry, before finally turning off the fan and the light.

He paused in the doorway for a few moments, waiting for some of his vision to come back before he started to move through the room. "Daniel?"

"Jack?" he sighed tiredly.

"Keep talking so I can find you."

"So much drama with you. You want a light?"

"Depends." Jack reached out with one searching hand. "This your foot?"

"No, Jack, I'm just real happy to see you."

Jack crawled up the bed from the bottom, tongue darting out to lick shower-warmed skin as he went. He could see a little now, just the outline of Daniel's form as he lay stretched out with his arms over his head, trying to vent the heat leftover from the shower. As Jack's tongue found his instep, the back of a knee, a rib, a nipple, Daniel's legs gradually fell open in invitation.

When Jack got up close, he suckled an earlobe, and received a contented sigh in return.

"What if... it wasn't... a trade?" Jack whispered as he nibbled. "What if... we could both go?"

Daniel's arms came around Jack's shoulders as he stretched his neck out as enticement. "Mmm..." he hummed, palming the back of Jack's head, guiding his attentions just so. "In the first place, no one's asked me to actually go anywhere. You either, for that matter."

"That never used to stop you," he murmured against Daniel's collarbone, settling in between his legs as though he belonged there. Which he did. "Back in the old days, you'd bully your way in, anywhere you thought you were needed. Make a case for being allowed to go. You even nagged your way onto my team. Three times, in fact."

"Three--?"

Jack balanced on one elbow, held up a hand, and counted off on his fingers. "Abydos the first time, Chulak the first time, and Kelowna the second time."

Point made, he went back to his oral explorations.

Daniel considered that explanation as Jack tongued his skin, decided he was right, and then dismissed the entire argument. "Besides, that was before. Before you, before us. It's all different now."

Jack pulled back to frown at him. "How so?"

Stubbornly, Daniel firmly guided him back down where he belonged. "Because I'm in love with you, that's how so," he whispered against Jack's lips. "So shut up and kiss me."

Jack loved it when Daniel got pushy. He surrendered his mouth, so Daniel could plunder it thoroughly. When he finally broke away to breathe, Jack panted, "In the interest of, ah, full disclosure, Weir asked."

"Weir asked?" Daniel repeated blandly, as if he couldn't make sense of it. "For me?"

"Yep."

"But..."

"She wants you," Jack said, lifting up his hips and resettling his dick more comfortably right next to Daniel's. "Your translating abilities, your tendency to think outside the box, your astoundingly effective nagging-ness, whatever. Probably your body, too, but she's shit outta luck there, 'cause that's mine. The point is, she'll put up with me tagging along," Jack lightly kissed one side of Daniel's mouth, and then the other, "in order to get you."

"That's crazy. Wait, nagging-ness? Is that even a word?"

"You tell me; you're the linguist. Anyway, to Weir, I'm apparently nothing but a big, dumb Ancient gene."

"Well, yes, but you're my big dumb Ancient gene," Daniel muttered absently, patting Jack affectionately on the ass. When Jack didn't have an immediate witty comeback, the patting stalled. "Wait. You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. That's why Hammond was here." Jack cleared his throat in embarrassment. "He'd have, ah, asked you himself, but I'd just finished making an ass of myself, and I don't think he wanted to risk an encore." He planted another light kiss on his lover's mouth and then drew back to wait. "It's up to you."

Jack still couldn't see a whole lot, but he could tell Daniel was blinking. "Pegasus is up to me? You're giving me a galaxy?"

Jack snorted. "The whole fuckin' stargate was your idea, Daniel. I'm not giving you anything you didn't work your butt off for."

"What about our house? Our golf lessons? Our Little League kids?"

Jack would never get tired of hearing Daniel say anything preceded by the word 'our'. "Well, hypothetically, I've got a buddy who'll rent the house out for us, oversee it. It'll be here when we get back. The kids'll get a new coach; kids are resilient that way. And we both know you just humor me with the golf thing."

Daniel sputtered indignantly. "I do not--"

"Aht!" Jack said, punctuating it with a gentle bite to Daniel's neck. "Don't lie."

After a beat, Daniel changed the subject completely. "It could be dangerous."

"Or the Ancients could be running the Pegasus arm of Club Med." Jack's voice took on a dreamy tone. "Mmmm, just think of it-- space golf, alien marlin fishing, massages on the beach, and one of those cute little paper umbrellas in every frosty mug of beer."

"Or they might've all died off," Daniel said earnestly. "Plague, remember? There might be nobody left to put the umbrella in your beer."

Jack shrugged. "We'll take our own then."

"Might be no beer at all," Daniel warned darkly.

"We'll still have the umbrellas," Jack replied reasonably. "We'll learn how to make our own brew. I can be the Atlantis bartender-- hypothetically, of course."

"Of course," Daniel muttered, but then grew serious, pulling Jack more snugly against him, his foot curling around Jack's calf, protectively, possessively, aware that Jack's dick was firming up in response. Daniel ran his hands from Jack's shoulders down his sides, until they grabbed onto his ass and squeezed.

"No," Daniel said decisively. "We've waited so long to be together openly. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to have to start sneaking around and sleeping alone. This-- what we have-- is too important to me to risk losing any of it to stupid military regs. I won't let anyone take you away from me."

Jack felt his heart clutch in some kind of slippery mixture of fealty and gratitude. He thrilled to the touch of Daniel's hands, the feel of his bare skin against his, warm and yielding, but his words shot straight to Jack's soul. How could he have doubted Daniel's feelings for him? Obviously, he was an idiot.

Jack cleared the emotion from his throat. "No sneaking around," he promised. "I made it very clear to Hammond that-- still talkin' hypothetically, here-- I wouldn't go in as military. I'd be the Senior ATA adviser. Whatever the fuck that is." He added offhandedly, "Probably doesn't pay as well as the Director of Linguistics position he has in mind for you. Barely pocket money, really."

Daniel stroked Jack's cheek with his thumb, and Jack could feel him going rigid beneath him. "Guess I'd have to help with that, wouldn't I," he whispered thickly. "Hypothetically speaking."

Jack had no words for why the idea appealed to him so viscerally . He suspected he shouldn't examine it too closely. Grinning, he nudged Daniel's nose with his own and said, "I'd make it very worth your while."

But Daniel was still serious, still wary of the enormity of the 'hypothetical' discussion they were having. "Truth is, we've got no idea at all what we'd be facing. What kinds of danger or hardship we might encounter there."

Jack frowned down at Daniel with fond exasperation and then rolled them, so Daniel was on top. "And this is different from the last nearly eight years of our lives, how?"

"I--"

With both hands, Jack pulled Daniel's head down and planted a noisy kiss on his surprised mouth. "This isn't complicated, Daniel. You want it, we go. You don't, we stay. Your call."

Daniel stared down at him, and Jack was glad his vision had cleared enough so he would always remember the predatory smirk which bloomed on Daniel's face just before he took Jack's mouth in a deep and dirty kiss.

END

Author's Note: Alpha and Beta thanks to Jude once again for her tireless attention to detail, and the usual apologies for my widespread semicolon manslaughter. All remaining mistakes are entirely my own.