The party was in full swing and everyone was having a great time. Daniel Jackson would have loved to have joined them, watching from one side of the room where he had an equal view of the front door. But the door remained closed, and with a smothered frown and a glance at his watch, he turned his gaze back to the festivities.
Sam sat in the middle of the gathering, opening her presents. Daniel was still grateful to Janet for deciding to throw a birthday party for Sam at the last minute. It had immediately ended the debate over throwing a party in honor of the SGC’s anniversary, just on the heel’s of Sam’s birthday. In a way, an anniversary celebration had seemed in order--one whole year of roaming the galaxy, evading Apophis, making incredible new finds and meeting new people. One year since Daniel had become a team with three very unlikely teammates, a year in which he’d grown to love them like family, even Jack. Daniel suppressed a smile at the thought. Especially Jack, even if he’d never have said that to the colonel’s face, O’Neill becoming a sort of honorary big brother with whom Daniel shared both a longer history than the rest, and the familiarity of loss.
The urge to smile faded. That was where the anniversary also stung. A year with the team also meant a year of separation from Sha’re and of fruitless searching for his wife. Their own anniversary was coming up, in earth years, anyway, and the coinciding dates had left him anxious to avoid an SGC anniversary party. There were many good memories associated with the year, but also too many raw ones.
Which was why he was there to distract himself from the gloomy reminders, watching with some amusement as Teal’c explained to Sam why he’d gotten her a rolling pin as a present, while one eye stayed on the door that refused to budge.
All the presents were finally opened, and the group adjourned for cake and drinks. Daniel squeezed his way through the group--the amount of Sam’s friends both in and outside the SGC still amazed him--and found Sam just threading her way over to talk to him.
"He’s not here yet?" she asked, also glancing at the door.
He shook his head. "Janet’s sure she told him seven?"
"Yeah, but it’s already close to eight."
Daniel fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. "Well, he was all excited by coming. You know Jack, any excuse--"
"--for a party, I know," Sam smiled briefly, then grew sober again. "So what do you think?"
Another glance at his watch. It had just reached eight. Even if Jack had gotten the time wrong, he should have already been there. "I think it’s time I went over there and fetched him," Daniel said flatly.
"You think he’s home? Why don’t you call--"
"I already did. No answer at his home or his cellphone." Actually, the cellphone wasn’t even on; Hammond had ordered a reluctant Jack to carry one when off-base but still hadn’t realized he also needed to order Jack to keep it on and charged if he wanted to be able to reach O’Neill that way.
"Oh." Sam considered that. "You think he’s all right? Maybe Teal’c and I should go with you."
He shook his head, giving her a wry smile. "This is your party, remember? He probably just got caught up in some game on TV, lost track of time. You know Jack."
"Yeah." She sounded as unconvinced as he felt. They did know Jack, that was why neither of them could help worrying. Besides the guy who loved any kind of a party, there was also the quiet, less visible side that sometimes slipped too deeply into thoughts of lost comrades, a lost marriage, a lost son. Those times had grown fewer since Daniel had known Jack, and were never as serious as the darkness that had been consuming the soldier when they’d first met. An evening of casual company and getting heartily drunk was usually enough to shake him out of it now. But his teammates still had learned to watch for those bleak times, and to make sure they were there for Jack when he needed it. Just as they all gently rallied around Daniel whenever the pain of Sha’re’s loss became fierce. Family.
Which was why he needed to go see Jack.
Sam gave him a smile and squeezed his arm. "Call if you need back-up."
That made his mouth quirk. "I just might," he’d said, and then quietly snuck out of Janet’s house to the sound of laughter behind him.
The drive wasn’t too long from her place to O’Neill’s; there weren’t that many neighborhoods close enough to Cheyenne Mountain that made commuting feasible. Daniel had chosen an apartment in the city, liking to be in the midst of the people and the cultural center, but most of the SGC’s members had settled into one of the few suburbs, Jack included. He said he liked to "breathe." Daniel shook his head. What he liked was isolation, and a view of the stars unhindered by city lights.
Which was why Daniel had turned onto Jack’s street almost expecting to see the figure of his friend sitting on the roof, gazing through his telescope and ruminating about the stars. What he didn’t expect was the sight that greeted his eyes.
The house was dark except for the open garage, from which light spilled out into the street. It illuminated a large pile of something Daniel couldn’t quite make out, sitting on the curb in front of the garage door. And as he watched, a silhouetted figured strode out of the garage and threw something else onto the heap before going back inside.
His eyebrows rose even as he parked his jeep in front of the house itself. O-kay, Jack had missed Sam’s birthday party because he was cleaning out his garage. That was a new one.
Daniel climbed out of his car, gently shutting the door behind him, and tucked his hands into his pockets as he approached the garage cautiously. It was still the trailing edge of winter, and he could see his breath in the night air. O’Neill, however, when he appeared again, was only in jeans and a t-shirt, and still looked hot.
"Jack," Daniel said by way of greeting.
His friend hardly glanced at him as he threw a lamp onto the pile. "Daniel," he answered evenly.
Closer now, Daniel could see that the pile contained an assortment of what he assumed to be the former contents of Jack’s garage. Tennis rackets, records, now-broken kitchenware, picture frames, even some baby clothes, Daniel winced to see, were piled haphazardly on each other. If looked like the makings of a good yard sale, in fact, except that Jack didn’t seem to care what he broke or ruined as he added to the heap.
"Uh...this may seem like a dumb question, but...what’re you doing?" Daniel finally ventured as a jigsaw puzzle box flew by, not quite making it to the top of the pile. Puzzle pieces rained down onto the sidewalk.
Jack paused for only a second to give him a patronizing glance before disappearing again into the garage. "You’re right, it’s a dumb question."
"So...you missed Sam’s birthday party because you got this sudden urge to clean out the garage?" he rocked slightly on his feet, trying to stay warm. Sha’re had said his heart belonged in the desert and sometimes he thought she was right.
"Was that tonight?" Jack muttered with a decided lack of interest. A pair of carved bookends joined the growing manmade mountain, distracting Daniel for a second before he pulled his attention away. Jack first, then exploration.
"Don’t tell me you forgot." Daniel refused to believe it. They’d parted in the early afternoon to return to their respective homes with the understanding that they’d see each other that evening. Jack had seemed in fine spirits then, the last mission a technical success even if not an interesting one. For Jack, that was--Daniel had been fascinated by the ruined burial urns they’d found in the one crumbling building. But Jack had just teased him about it and, outside of a little requisite grousing, hadn’t seemed to truly mind an intellectual find instead of a technological or cultural one.
So what had happened since then?
"I won’t," Jack promised in answer to Daniel’s comment, and the archaeologist realized with a start that it was all the explanation he would be offered without further deliberate pushing, all but guaranteeing an irate Jack O’Neill, or careful exploration.
Daniel had always been an explorer at heart.
Jack was struggling with a large box in the back corner of the garage, and Daniel pulled his hands from his pockets as he stepped forward. "Can I help you with that?"
That earned him a suspicious glance, but no other answer than Jack moving over to give him room. Daniel slipped in next to him, hefting his corner of the box with difficulty. What was in there, a car?
He wasn’t far from the truth, he soon found out, as they staggered out with the box and leaned it against the pile. One flap fell open to reveal the bright blue handlebar of a child’s bike. Charlie’s bike, no doubt.
Daniel glanced up with a frown to see Jack also staring at the handlebar, his expression wrenchingly heartbroken, before he seemed to catch himself and, closed off anew, strode back into the garage.
If Daniel hadn’t already been concerned, he would’ve certainly been at that point.
Another box, and he hurried forward without a word to help with it as well. This one proved much lighter, and throwing it as high as they could onto the pile, the contents spilled out to reveal skeins of yarn and a half-knit...something. Jack didn’t even give it a second glance.
It was when they were lifting the third box, this one containing something that clinked like glass, that dark eyes settled on him. "What’re you doing here, Daniel?"
"What was it you said about dumb questions?" he shot back easily. Two could play at that game.
This box was set next to the one with the bicycle, and as Jack stood, for the first time since Daniel had arrived, he paused. He brushed off his hands and surveyed the emptying garage, the pile in front of it, and surreptitiously in between, Daniel. "Sara always wanted me to clean the garage," he finally said.
Daniel’s eyebrows rose. It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to point out that Sara had moved out nearly two years before, while Jack had been on Abydos the first time. Another anniversary that didn’t much bear thinking about.
Jack shrugged as if Daniel had commented aloud. "Got the papers today and figured it was a good time to tie up loose ends." And then without another word he wheeled around and returned into the garage. A moment later, an airplane model sailed out to land with precision near the top of the accumulation.
The papers? Daniel blinked for a moment, puzzled, before uneasy light dawned. Divorce papers? He’d always assumed the couple had divorced not long after Sara had left, but then, Jack had never referred to her as his ex-wife, or called them anything other than "separated" the rare times the subject had come up, usually in passing just between the two of them. Even though Jack always spoke of her with longing in his voice, even after once seeing the two of them together and the love they still clearly shared, it had seemed such a done deal.
To the world, maybe, and obviously to Sara. But apparently not to Jack, not until that afternoon.
Daniel ducked out of the way of several magazines that came flying out of the garage. Now he got it. With mournful sympathy, he watched his friend’s continued determined attack on the garage. No words he could say now would help, just as Jack hadn’t tried to tell him everything would be okay when he’d lost Sha’re, had only pitched in to find Daniel a place at the SGC and on his team. Sometimes the only option was to do.
Daniel took a deep breath, unzipped his jacket, and dove back into the garage.
Over the year, they had learned to work well together without talking, and they carried, tossed, and lifted in silence that lacked the awkwardness of a year before. One wall of the garage finally cleared, they began digging their way through to the next one.
Occasionally, he saw Jack finger something before laying it gently aside in one clear corner. A baseball glove, a finger-painted picture of some kind of four-legged creature, a photo album. The "to keep" pile, Daniel guessed, and made sure he threw nothing out that Jack hadn’t first seen. So Jack wasn’t completely tossing his old life--that was good. Maybe this was just a healthy form of release then. Daniel hoped.
A small box caught his eye and he picked it up curiously. Opening it, a sudden lump lodged in his throat. A yellowed bride-and-groom cake decoration sat inside, nestled in equally yellowed crepe paper. He hadn’t had one at his wedding feast, of course, but with Sha’re next to him, he hadn’t needed anything else.
"We’d have been married two years next week," he said softly, still staring into the box.
The rustling motion beside him slowed and stopped. "Oh, man, I’m sorry, Daniel, I forgot," Jack said quietly, his own problems apparently forgotten for the moment.
Daniel shook his head. "That’s okay, it’s not exactly like I’m going to be celebrating it." He had a bottle of champagne tucked away for when he had Sha’re back, in the silly superstitious belief that she therefore had to return to share it with him, but it would stay in the far corner of his closet until then.
"Red letter week for both of us, huh?" came Jack’s wry voice.
He mustered a determinedly cheerful grin before turning to look at the older man, almost faltering for a second when he saw the unexpected sympathy in O’Neill’s eyes. "I won’t tell anyone if you don’t."
Jack’s mouth turned up in an answer. "Deal."
They turned back to cleaning, Daniel’s heart curiously a little lighter. Actually, he could see now the allure of what they were doing. It was very therapeutic to be cleaning out a mass of clutter, creating order at least in that one place, throwing things out with reckless abandon as they got in his way. And it seemed to work better with a friend. If only all of life could be like that, there’d be a lot more happy people and a lot fewer cluttered garages.
The back wall and center of the garage were emptied and they were just starting in on the last wall when another familiar voice called.
"Daniel? Colonel?"
They both stopped, then turned toward the open garage door. Sam edged uncertainly around one corner of it, followed by a bemused Teal’c.
"What on earth are you doing?" Sam was surveying the now-mountainous pile completely obscuring the garage door, then the two of them, sweating and dusty and puffing at the exertion.
Daniel glanced at Jack, O’Neill returning the look, a smile pulling at his mouth, and they turned back to answer as one. "Cleaning the garage."
"No kidding." She was shaking her head as she made her way closer, choosing her steps carefully. "Well, I can see why this was so urgent..."
Jack scratched his head. "Uh, about the party, Carter--"
‘It’s okay, sir," she cut in quickly. "I understand."
And she really sounded like she did. Daniel gave her a curious glance, which she just smiled back at. Okay, so she didn’t know the details, but she knew them both well enough to figure that if they were cleaning the garage on a cold, early spring night, there had to be a reason. He’d promised Jack he wouldn’t talk about it, but a hint to Sam later on wouldn’t hurt. He had an idea Jack would be dropping one of his own about Daniel’s anniversary, and would have bet a week’s pay that his three teammates would show up on his doorstep that particular evening with pizza and a lame excuse for stopping by. He may have lost his wife--temporarily--but he’d also gained a family, and that rather made the garage obsolete, didn’t it?
Jack seemed to have the same idea, rubbing his hands against his t-shirt in an effort to clean the worst of the dust off of them before running them through his hair. "Well, what d’you kids say we leave the garage for now and grab something to eat? I’m starving."
Daniel turned to give him a pleasantly surprised look. Actually, food sounded good to him, too, and some friendly conversation after the quiet company of the previous hour, but he was delighted to hear the offer come from Jack. Apparently, the older man had done enough cleaning out for one night. There was still some darkness in his eyes, but Daniel had never known him not to have any, and his relaxed stance and the smile playing on his mouth suggested that maybe it was more than just the garage they’d purged.
Sam was already saying, "Actually, sir, we had a lot of leftovers at the party. Janet gave us a bunch to take home, and we thought since we were in the neighborhood, we’d hop in and see if the two of you were hungry."
"Did we not drive, Captain Carter?" Teal’c asked solicitously from beside Sam.
"That’s just a figure of speech, Teal’c," Daniel jumped in. "It means to stop by."
The Jaffa inclined his head in acknowledgment with a twinkle in his eye that meant either he’d known that or he was picturing the literal meaning, and Daniel’s heart buoyed with sudden contentment. As far as family’s went, he’d gotten pretty lucky with this bunch.
Sam turned to go back to the car for the food, Teal’c going to help her, and Daniel waved an "after you" gesture to Jack, not able to resist speaking up as he fell in beside the older man. "You know, I don’t think your neighbors are going to be very happy about your landscaping job out here." He nodded to the overflowing mass they had to skirt to leave the garage.
Jack just shrugged. "They don’t much talk to me anymore after the wake we had for you, anyway. Clogged up the street for a whole day." The brief frown at the reminder of Daniel’s supposed death cleared just as quickly.
It wasn’t a good memory for Daniel, either, though the mention of the crowd size unexpectedly warmed him.
"Thanks for the help, by the way," Jack tossed off, nearly as an afterthought. He eyed the pile speculatively. "Not a bad night’s work." And the look he threw at Daniel said that he wasn’t been just thinking about the garage, either.
"No, it wasn’t," he agreed, following Jack to the house where they held the door for Sam and a laden Teal’c. "I always wanted to excavate the garage of a twentieth century suburban American household." And he ducked Jack’s swat as he before going inside, grinning as he did.
Note: Published in Seventh Chevron 4
© August, 2004 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.