The ribbon of highway undulated before him in the sphere of his headlights, a beckoning enticement taking him farther and farther into the black night. Jack drove mechanically, with practiced detachment, his thoughts as dark as the night the vehicle he piloted cleaved through.

Jack didn't know how long he had been driving. They had come back through the Stargate after that firefight on Abydos. He hadn't known what the hell was going on and frankly hadn't stuck around long enough to find out. Daniel's foster world had been crawling with Goa'ulds. Couldn't swing a freaking dead cat without hitting one. Maybe it was some sort of package deal. A group rate or something. Shoot this guy, hide from this guy - and look there, Amonet makes three. Goa'ulds and Jaffa and Daniel, oh my!

He was supposed to have been visiting the in-laws for cryin' out loud. Not getting bashed around by tall, bald and scary. Leave the kid alone for half a day and what the hell does he get himself into - again. Crap, crap and crap. He didn't have the energy to figure it all out.

Yeah, he had seen her. Sha'uri or Amonet or whatever the hell her name was now. Well, why shouldn't she have been there, half the Goa'uld universe had seemed to want to pick that particular day to take a tour of scenic Abydos. And he was sure there was a really nifty story to go along with it, but truth be told, he just didn't give a damn.

And Daniel?

Daniel had had this - look on his face, but for once in his life, Jack had hardened his heart and just - walked away.

He just didn't feel like dealing with Daniel - or anybody else for that matter. Didn't want to hear about it, didn't want to know. He had gone back to his quarters, divested himself of everything even remotely military, put on the closest thing he owned that was neither issue nor green and had just - gone.

He had taken only one thing with him that had been 'issued' to him. A small black box with a piece of metal in it that no longer meant anything to him because of what had happened in Washington before it had been given to him. It was sitting on the dashboard even now, a silent little mocking box. He brought it because he had some thinking to do. This was as compact and as neat a representative focus for his contemplation as he could think of, as well as an apt symbol of - hypocrisy.

Jack wasn't sure where he was going, he just drove. At first he had thought seriously about finding some roadside watering hole to toss back a few cold ones in, but then thought better of it. The mood he was in he would very most probably end up picking a fight with some poor unsuspecting slob, and the last thing he needed to do right now was drag another innocent into this mess.

No, there had been enough of that already.

There was already more than enough blood on his hands.

Jack O'Neill had been a soldier for a very long time. Almost his entire adult life he had given over to the service of his country, and he had done so proudly. He had never known a time when he had not been proud to wear the uniform, proud to call himself a soldier, proud to bear the responsibility of the rank he had achieved and the privilege to serve that it gave him.

He had been damned proud to be exactly what he was.

Now he felt ashamed to even admit that he had given one minute of his life to an organization that had used him so completely to murder a man in cold blood.

Simply to keep a secret.

He knew what Hammond had said to him.

How could he have said anything else?

How could he have admitted to such a terrible thing?

Since when did 'doing his duty' include allowing himself to be used as a Judas Goat?

Identify the problem so it can be 'dealt with' like a good little wind-up tin soldier.

Point the poor slob out so he could be taken out.

He might not have known it at the time, but that poor, dumb shit had been right.

He had done that to him.

He was a bastard.

Ignorance is no excuse.

Jack tightened his grip on the steering wheel as if the device had suddenly become slick and slippery.

Slick with the blood that was staining his hands.

Wait a minute. He had come full circle.

He was home. He didn't even remember driving back here.

He pulled into the driveway to find it already occupied by another car.

Daniel's car.

Crap.

Jack reached for the hated box and thrust it into his jacket pocket as he turned off the vehicle and got slowly out. Didn't take him long to spot Daniel, sitting on the step waiting. Jack stood by the side of the truck, not willing to get any closer to the man he was going to do his damndest to get rid of.

"What are you doing here, Daniel?" Ah, that sounded suitably hostile and definitely unfriendly. Well done, Jack.

"Waiting for you."

Leave it to the kid never to miss an opportunity to state the obvious.

"I'm really not in the mood for company tonight."

"That's exactly why I'm here, Jack."

He was getting up, starting to walk over. Don't DO that Daniel. I want you to leave. Don't push it - don't push me.

"Sam told me what happened in Washington, Jack."

"Did she now?" Jack snapped back. "Well maybe I should tell her that she should mind her own goddamned business. And so, for the matter, should you."

"I hope you are coming over here to get into that car and leave."

"What do you think, Jack?"

"I think you are going to get your head handed to you in a minute if you don't get out of my face."

Daniel had closed the space between them and stood a few feet away from him, looking at him with those eyes.

"If it would make you feel better to take a poke at me, well then by all means, be my guest."

Jack glared at him, trembling, fists clenched in rage. For several long, cracklings seconds he glared at the man who stood calmly before him, then with a howl of frustration he tore his eyes away, whirled and brought both his fists down on the hood of his truck with a resounding smash.

Oh my, that was going to really hurt in a couple of minutes.

He charged at Daniel and brought himself up short only just in time, inches from his face, then stood there, bellowing at him.

"Dammit - You WOULD - wouldn't you? You'd just STAND there - and let me punch your lights out!"

Daniel sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. He locked his fearless eyes with the furious ones of the man before him and smiled.

"It was all right, Jack. I knew you wouldn't."

Jack felt the rage in him beginning to drain away at the touch of Daniel's hand. "I'm not so sure I was," he replied softly.

"Yeah, you were," Daniel slid his hand behind Jack's neck and his arm followed it to come to rest around Jack's shoulders. He then used it to begin to steer his suddenly tractable friend toward his house.

"Come on Jack, let's go inside. It's getting a little chilly out here."

Okay, so the sneaky bastard had talked his way into the house. That didn't mean anything. Didn't mean he was going to talk to him or listen to him or - well, it just didn't mean anything..

He was a part master of the stone-cold, silent routine.

Just ask his ex-wife.

Jack threw himself on the couch in a satisfyingly petulant gesture of defiance. Daniel ignored him and started to walk toward the kitchen.

"Think I need some coffee. How about you?"

"Suit yourself. You know where it is."

"Ah, ever the gracious host, " Daniel laughed. "So was that a yes, or a no?"

Jack heaved an annoyed sigh and kicked the coffee table, just because it was there and just because he could.

"Yes or no WHAT?" He hurled the reply back the man in the kitchen.

"Yes or no do you want some coffee?"

"I don't care. Whatever."

"Hmmm, " Daniel's amused voice floated out of the kitchen. "Welcome to another episode of 'Men Behaving Badly,' starring the one and only Jack O'Neill.

"My house," Jack grunted. " I can behave as badly as I want. You don't like it, you can LEAVE."

There was suddenly, from the other room, the distinctive sound of glass breaking. Something had just gotten smashed. Into a great many little tiny pieces.

"Whups! Ahhhh - Jack?"

Jack threw his head back and wiped his eyes with a weary hand.

"WHAT, Daniel - WHAT?"

He was just going to go mad. Any second now, stark raving loony toons.

"Did you have any serious emotional or sentimental attachment to this coffee mug?

"What coffee mug, Daniel?"

Where was his gun? As soon as he found it he was going to blow his brains out.

"The one that said 'Dickhead' on it."

That was it. If he had done it on purpose, it couldn't have been more appropriate.

But he hadn't. Daniel just wasn't that devious.

Clumsy, yes.

Devious, no.

Jack leapt up from the couch and loped into the kitchen. Before Daniel even knew he was behind him Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him back into the fridge. Not really hard, just enough for effect. Restraining his shoulder in an implacable grip, he jammed a forearm against Daniel's neck and under his chin, levering it roughly up, pinioning him there like a butterfly to the mounting board. Again, not hard, just enough to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. He held him there, keeping his eyes cruel, and watched as Daniel's eyes widened in shock, becoming tinged with just the slightest edge of disbelief and uncertainty.

Wasn't quite so sure of himself anymore. Good. Just what he was going for.

Jack held him there for a few moments longer. Saying nothing, not letting his gaze waver.

"Jack," Daniel finally said in a voice that was just a bit tremulous. "It was only a coffee cup.."

"But it was MY coffee cup.." Jack replied slowly in a low, menacing voice.

Wait a minute, there was just the slightest hint of a smile curling around Daniel's mouth. Those blue eyes had a definite glint in them that wasn't there before.

"Somehow," Daniel replied, the laughter in his voice barely suppressed. "I had no doubt of that."

They both burst out laughing at the same time. With a disgusted snort Jack let him down, smoothed out the front of his ruffled shirt and gave him an affectionate slap on the side of his face.

"Aw, you're no fun anymore. Can't fake you out no how."

Daniel gave his friend's shoulder a warm squeeze as he passed by him on his way to finish dealing with the coffee. "Been hanging around you too long, O'Neill. Pretty much seen all your tricks."

"That's what you think," Jack complained as he made his way back to the couch. "A good operator always keeps one or two tricks up his sleeve."

"Uh, that may be," Daniel murmured as he came back into the living room with two mugs of coffee. "But we're talking about you now, Jack, don't forget that."

"Don't start with me, Jackson!" Jack grumbled, taking the mug that Daniel extended to him. "The night is still young. Many quality bashing hours still remain to us."

"Huh," Daniel's expression quite eloquently conveyed how intimidated he felt by that comment. "You'll have to catch me first, old man."

They said nothing for a time, simply sitting in silence on the couch, sipping coffee, neither man looking at the other. Jack took another pull from the mug, set it down, fished in his jacket pocket until he found the box and then flipped it at Daniel.

"Here." He grunted as he threw himself back into the couch, crossed his arms and stared up at the ceiling. "Present for you. Maybe you can find a use for it. Just a piece of crap to me"

Daniel held the box in his hands for a moment, turning it over once or twice. He looked at it, and then he turned and cast a deeply worried look at Jack that the other man pretended he did not see. Then he opened it.

"Jack," Daniel said in a hushed, disbelieving voice. "This is - your medal. You can't - I can't - take this!"

"Yeah, you can," Jack found himself unable to look at Daniel as what he had decided suddenly came out of his mouth. " You can take everything that goes along with it as well, as far as I am concerned."

"What are you saying, Jack?"

Kid was scared. Could hear it plain in his voice.

Funny, that made two of them.

"What are you saying, Jack?"

"What does it sound like I'm saying?" Jack hunched forward, clenching his fists in his lap. "I'm resigning my commission. Those murdering bastards will never use me to kill an innocent man again."

Daniel moved closer to him, starting to reach out to him in a convulsive movement, which he suddenly thought better of. He pulled his hand back before replying.

"You don't KNOW that, Jack, not for sure - "

Jack spat out an angry reply, cutting off the rest of Daniel's attempt at consolation.

"Get real Daniel, where the hell are you from, Never Never Land? This world eats people like you alive. Haven't you figured that out yet? Get your head out of the clouds and look at the facts. You're smart. Put it together for yourself. I report a serious breach in security. Like the good little soldier boy that I am. I am sent back out - I think - to get more information. More fool me.

"So, I go back out. Good little wind-up Colonel O'Neill Action Figure, fighting the good fight for God and Country. All dressed up pretty as a picture. The next time - the very next time I talk to this man - whom I have dutifully reported as said security risk - that same risk is conveniently eliminated by an extremely convenient 'accident'. Right before my eyes. Problem solved. So neat. So tidy. Good boy, Colonel O'Neill. Here's a medal for ya. Just shut up, do our dirty work and believe every dirty little lie we tell you.

"He died - right before my eyes. Looking right at me. These hands - " he unclenched his fists and thrust them at Daniel "- his blood was all over my hands. Do you know what he said to me before he died? Do you?"

Daniel's eyes were huge with painful empathy. His face white. He said nothing, simply shook his head.

"You did this. That's what he said to me. You did this." Jack let his open hands fall to his lap and looked away from Daniel's face. Part of him knew it wasn't really true, but suddenly all he thought he could see in his friends' eyes was accusation and blame.

"He was right. I killed him."

Daniel reached out to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You did nothing wrong, Jack," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault. Even if everything you said is true - about the way it happened, I mean, you still did nothing wrong."

Jack wearily shook his lowered head. Daniel moved his hand to the back of his neck, slowly, soothingly kneading the knotted muscles there with his comforting touch, his voice low and gentle as he continued to speak.

"So, suppose we say it is true. That it did happen exactly the way you say it did. That somewhere, someone gave the order to have that man killed. So say you leave and walk away because of it. That might make you feel better for a little while, but in the long run it will mean that we will all lose, and the bad guys will win."

Jack turned and looked at Daniel. "I don't understand."

Daniel's smile was kind and sympathetic. "Yeah, you do. The very reason you want to quit is the best reason you should stay. Any organization with as much power as the military is only as good as the people who wield that power. Don't you see, Jack, it's men like you, men with integrity, men with honor who keep those other men who have none of those things from using that power against all of us. If you leave, Jack, who is going to oppose them? Who is going to keep the rest of us safe from the next unspeakable thing they try to do? Who is going to care enough about all of us to make them do the right thing whether they want to or not?"

Daniel had shifted over until he was sitting beside him, leaning up against his shoulder. He had taken his hand away and was staring the pair of them, now resting in his lap.

"I - would really miss you. You know that. But I'm not going to sit here and presume to tell you what to do. You have to decide that for yourself, because in the end, you're the one who's going to have to live with yourself. Whatever you decide Jack, make sure it's the RIGHT thing. For you. Nobody else. I know it won't be easy. Believing that you are even indirectly responsible for the death of another is not an easy thing to live with. I know how hard it is. What if feels like - to have another's death on your conscience. Even worse when you KNOW you have done it with your own hands. in cold blood."

Jack's head shot up at the totally absurd incongruity of Daniel's last statement, made even more so by the way he had said it. With complete and utter seriousness and conviction.

"Daniel, what the hell are you talking about? What do you know about killing somebody in cold blood? You won't even swat mosquitoes, for crying out loud!"

Suddenly Daniel was on the extreme other end of the couch, as far away from him as he could possibly get without actually getting off the couch. Jack hadn't even seen him move, he had done it so fast. He was doing that other thing too, that thing of drawing himself up into a little ball that usually meant that there was something big and bad rolling around in his head.

Then his head came up from where it had been resting on his knees and Jack saw his eyes. They were terrible.

"You don't even remember, do you?" Daniel said, from far away.

"Remember what?"

"You were there. You watched me do it. You don't remember. But I do."

Jack started to move toward him but Daniel drew himself up tighter and shook his head.

"Daniel, I'm not a mind-reader here. You're gonna have to give me a little more."

He nodded. "Abydos. The chamber in the pyramid. You were telling me that I had to go back through the Stargate to shut down the Earth gate, and you were going to stay behind and blow the place up. The Jaffa came out of nowhere.. Shot Sha'uri. killed her."

Jack 's jaw dropped as memory came flooding back. He had forgotten. He was remembering now. It hadn't made much of an impact at the time - just another bad guy in the way that no longer was. Just another obstacle that had to be removed. Just another soldier doing his job and eliminating an enemy.

Except Daniel wasn't a soldier. He was just a poor Joe Civvy Schmuck, pulled off the street and thrust into a situation he had no training or preparation for, and never had thought in his wildest dreams he would ever find himself in or having to deal with He was also a man who had just watched his wife die.

"The staff weapon was in my hand. I just pointed it at him and fired. Didn't even stop to think, didn't hesitate. Just - did it, like it was nothing. I killed a man, Jack. In less time than it has taken to tell you about it."

"I know, Daniel," Jack said gently. "I remember now."

Daniel's eyes were less haunted. He had faced it. He had said it. He had admitted it. He looked unflinchingly at Jack and his blue eyes were alight with a sad wisdom that Jack had never seen in them before.

" Yes, I did it. I killed a man in cold blood. I might not ever have had his blood on my hands in the literal sense, but mine are every bit as stained. Moreso, because my offense against the man I killed was deliberate. That qualifies me to comment on what you have said to me. Qualifies me to tell you - what this has done to me and how I have sought to put it right. For what it's worth."

"Yes. I got Sha'uri back. For a little while. But that didn't change the fact that a man was dead. I knew that. I see his face every night in my dreams. Which is as it should be. Because I have to remember, in order to never forget, that the price I pay for having done it - is to remember. And do everything I can to make it right. As a consequence of committing the original offense.

"A death is only senseless if you deprive it of its meaning. If you leave it behind unremarked, unremembered, unatoned for. I cannot undo what I have done. Cannot give back to THAT man what I took from him. But I can give meaning to his end. I can give to others, for his sake. Fight for what is right, in his memory. Honor his existence by using the memory of his death to constantly spur me to being a better, more effective force in whichever way I can.

"Meaning, Jack." Daniel continued in a low voice. "It's all about meaning. That is what you have to look for in this situation. However this man's life was taken from him, you cannot undo what has been done. You cannot give him his life back, but you can give his death meaning in what you do for his sake from this point forward. You can make his death count for something if you remember him. What that is for you, will be up to you. But if you try and find it, and then do what you feel is right as a consequence of what you have found - it will be easier to bear. And good will finally come of it. I promise."

" I know that everyone who knows me thinks that life has been - unfair to me - to a certain extent. Maybe that is not true at all. Maybe I have gotten exactly what I deserve. It has occurred to me, from time to time, that there is a certain justice in everything that has happened. I took a life for Sha'uri's sake. She has been taken from me. Perhaps she was taken to restore the balance. To force me to make amends for what I did through my efforts to find her. Perhaps I just have to try harder to find - the meaning in that one as well.. In what happened today. funny. Blood. All this talk about blood. I had blood on my hands today too."

Daniel suddenly jumped to his feet, looking as if he was going to be sick. Just as quickly as the look crossed his face it was gone, and his eyes were hard and closed.

"Well, I've pretty much said all I have to say, Jack, you probably have a lot of thinking to do, so I should just go. Yeah, I think I'm going to go now, I've bothered you enough."

Daniel had taken three quick steps from the room when Jack's voice stopped him.

"Daniel."

"I'm all right Jack. I just have to go now."

He took another step.

"Daniel." Jack's voice was a little louder this time. "I'm a little disappointed in you."

Daniel's shoulders shook as if Jack had actually struck him but he didn't make a sound. He wrestled briefly with something within, then straightened visibly and took another step.

"I'm disappointed, Daniel," Jack continued, "Because in all the time we have known each other, you have never lied to me. Why are you lying to me now?" As he was speaking Jack got to his feet and began to slowly walk up behind Daniel.

There was a multitude of unshed tears in Daniel's voice, but he wasn't letting one get by him.

"Whaa? What? What are you talking about?"

Jack finally reached him and stood right behind him, as close as he could without touching him.

"You told me you were all right. You were lying."

"Not lying," Daniel said in a barely audible voice. "Anticipating. Not quite there yet, but I will be."

"Got that right," Jack said to him softly as he put his hands on his shoulders and began to steer him back to the couch. "We've got all night to get you there. Come back and sit down."

Daniel allowed Jack to propel him back to the couch. They sat there together, Daniel close to him, his head back and resting against the arm Jack had placed behind him along the top of the couch. Over the course of the hours that followed they talked, and little by little, Jack teased, coaxed, cajoled and pestered him until he was able to pull the entire story of what had happened in Abydos out of him.

It was a tale Daniel did not easily surrender. And when he had the whole of it, Jack was once again humbled that Daniel could have done what he did for him, when he had so much pressing upon his own heart and soul.

But that was Daniel. So willing to help another, so unable to believe that anyone else would be just as willing to do the same thing for him. So unable to understand that such compassion and consideration was available for him.

And so damned hard to get him to take it.

Jack could not remember a time in his life when he had not been a part of something. The family, the neighborhood gang, the team, the Air Force. Even during times when he had chosen to go it alone for awhile he had never known a time when there was not someone watching his back, backing him up, fighting by his side or lending him a hand. It was just a given. Never had to think about it, worry about it, question it or doubt that it was so.

He could not even begin to imagine what it must have been like to have lived a life where the only certainty that existed was the absolute knowledge that there was absolutely no one there for you and the only person that was going to get you through every thing that ever happened to you - was you.

That had finally changed for Daniel, but he had already known too many years of the other to be sure of what was now. The behaviors of a lifetime did not change overnight. The perspective that arose from having to become accustomed to having no expectation whatsoever of the kinds of consideration that Jack took for granted was not changed except by time and a lot of reinforcement. It might never change entirely. But Jack was willing to give it the old college try.

It took a long time before Daniel had said it all. There had come that time when Jack had held him, waiting for tears that never did fall. Not that Daniel was afraid to weep: he had watched the kid break down and sob at long distance telephone commercials. That wasn't it. Daniel wasn't afraid to be vulnerable in front of him. He had shook and come close, but he hadn't let go. There was something else going on. Well, tomorrow was another day, and one way or another, as long as it took, Jack vowed he was going to get to it.

Daniel might have been the most stubborn person he had ever known in his own life, but that was before he met Jack O'Neill.

Daniel had finally talked himself into exhaustion. His voice began to trail away; his head began to nod. Unwilling to risk waking him by moving away, Jack had decided to let him stay where he was. Daniel attained the state of true, restful sleep so seldom, that when Jack saw him in it, he was loathe to do anything to disturb the spell. Jack reached over and gently pulled him in close. Nestling his head into his shoulder, he put his arms around Daniel and held him as he drifted off into a profound and peaceful sleep.

Jack was anything but tired. As he listened to the sound of his friend's quiet breathing he sat unmoving but content, turning over in his thoughts what had happened that evening.

The matter of what had driven him to seek to forsake the life he loved was not concluded, but it was settled. Daniel had given him not only a reason to continue, but also the means to make right what had been wrong.

What had he said - it was all about meaning? He was right. Also, that he had to find what that meant - for him, and then go where that knowledge took him. Right again, my young, wise, friend.

That felt right. That felt good. Somehow, he knew that Armand would like it.

He knew also, that thanks to Daniel, he could in good conscience continue to serve. He hadn't really wanted to leave the service, but had been unable to think of a reason to stay that was more compelling than the reason he felt he had no choice but to leave. Things were right again. Things made sense. Somehow, they always came around that way when Daniel was around. And there was the biggest reason of all to stay.

Daniel. When he was mad at him he had said something stupid to him about this world eating up people like him. Well, it was stupid to have said it, but that didn't make it untrue. The world did indeed consume people like Daniel, as long as people like Jack stood by and let it. Well, it wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't. Not as long as he had breath in his body he would fight and he would make damned sure that Daniel got live in the kind of a world that deserved to have him. Anybody who tried to mess it up for him would have Jack O'Neill to deal with.

It wasn't true - what Daniel had said before - that the complete and utter shattering of his life was only what he deserved. Daniel would spend the rest of his life atoning for a single deed committed in a fleeting instant of instinctive, primal rage. Not because someone or something was making him, but because he knew it was the right thing to do. That more than restored the balance as far as Jack was concerned. That should have been all the universe needed from Daniel without exacting the further, terrible personal penalty.

And yet, as whacked as it sounded, as bad as the loss had been for Daniel, in the long run it had all worked out for the better. In taking Sha'uri away from Daniel Apophis had done this Earth a tremendous service. Certainly had made HIS life better. Jack found it a little difficult to believe he was actually thinking this way, but there was no way of getting around it. If Apophis had not stolen Sha'uri away from Daniel, he would still be there on Abydos, living happily ever after with the woman he loved. He would never have left her behind, never have come back into his life, never have joined the SGC, never have been on that mission that sent him to the Alternate Earth and if he hadn't done THAT - well, none of them would be here right now.

Strange to think that one good man should have to lose everything in order to be in the place where he was most needed in order to be able to save - everything for everybody else. Also kinda made you want to kick back and rethink that whole 'good' / 'bad ' thing. Maybe another time. The waters were getting just a little deeper than he wanted to deal with at the moment. He'd done quite enough thinking along these particular lines for one evening.

And what an evening it had been. What a day it had been. Both he and Daniel had had their fill of blood today. Blood spilled in death that called for retribution, the blood of passage that had ushered a new soul into the world, blood that coursed through the veins of a woman who required deliverance. A crimson ribbon of obligation that wound about both of them and pulled them forward toward - who knew what purpose. Or what destiny.

Man - he was doing it again! He kept hanging around Daniel and before he knew it he was going to turn into some sort of a philosopher or something.

Now that was a pretty terrifying thought..

There was just one more thing, though. Daniel would kick up a fuss, but Jack was determined that his friend was going to keep the medal. He wanted him to have it. Only seemed right. If you wanted to get technical, it was the least all of them could do. If it hadn't been for Daniel, his resourcefulness, courage and thickheaded stubbornness, none of them would be here right now. The higher-ups were patting him on the back when it really was Daniel who had saved the world. All Jack O'Neill had done - was finally listened to him.

It was growing close to dawn. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there with Daniel sleeping on him, but he felt good and at peace with himself, and very happy to know that his friend had been able to enjoy the respite of several hours of uninterrupted and obviously contented slumber. That didn't happen a lot these days. Maybe these were small miracles, but damn, he'd take them.

Daniel stirred a little just then, burrowing his shaggy head in an almost child-like way deeper into Jack's shoulder, nestling closer as he sought a comforting embrace. Jack smiled. The kid was a snuggler. Oh, what an enormous surprise.

He reached over to brush the hair out of his eyes to see the heavy lids crack open just enough to allow the tiniest sliver of the soul that lived behind them to shine forth.

"J'ck?" Daniel said in a voice clumsy with sleep.

"What, Danny?" Jack whispered.

"What were you doing with a coffee mug that said 'Dickhead' on it?"

"Go back to sleep, Daniel"

" 'Kay.."

It was going to be a wonderful day..

The End: By PhoenixE

© December 23,1999 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.