• SPOILERS: Major spoilers for The Enemy Within, minor spoilers for Stargate the Movie, Children of the Gods
• Missing Scenes/Tag for The Enemy Within
• PG-13 [A]

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack started. He refocused on the older, bald headed officer sitting across from him. //Damn,// he thought, //I've wandered off again. Keep focused! Kawalsky. Charlie. Why didn't I ever tell him I named my kid after him, much less tell him I had a son? You're such an idiot, O'Neill. You considered the man your best friend and you kept this from him. What a piece of work I am.//

"Colonel?" General Hammond repeated, the address tinged with concern. When Jack's blank stare faded and pained brown eyes again focused on the officer, Hammond continued speaking. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. Just peachy considering four hours ago I watched half my friend's head sliced off by the deactivating wormhole, killing him. Just fine, sir." O'Neill paused. "No. My friend and fellow officer died on the table. That wasn't Charles Kawalsky in the gate room. That was...I don't know. It wasn't him."

"We can do this later if you like. I understand it's not easy to lose a friend, a brother in arms."

"It never should be, sir."

"Exactly, Colonel."

With effort, Jack straightened his posture realizing he had slouched while sitting opposite the base commander. With this act, his resolve also reasserted itself. "No, sir. We should do this now. Before the operation, Major Kawalsky told me if this didn't work, he wanted his body to be cremated. He said he didn't want any trace of that thing to remain."

"Very well, Colonel. Since Colonel Kennedy has been ordered, for the moment, to return to Langley with the dead Goa'uld symbiont which was surgically removed from the major, I see no need to delay this process any longer."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'll expedite the paperwork immediately. Based on Major Kawalsky's military record, burial at Arlington will be assured."

"Charlie would be proud to know that, sir."

"As to the notification of family---"

"I'll do that, sir," O'Neill interrupted, volunteering.

Hammond nodded his head, closing the folder lying before him. "Very well." The senior officer glanced through his office window fronting the Briefing Room. He saw the Jaffa, Teal'c, at stiff attention, flanked by two armed SFs. The tousle haired, rumpled figure of Doctor Jackson scurried in. The civilian gave the impassive alien a friendly greeting before beelining to the coffee pot and mugs. Hammond returned his attention to the seated colonel. "We could reschedule Teal'c's interview until later," he suggested.

"No, sir. Major Kawalsky wouldn't want us to bring this program to a halt on his account. There's a threat out there, a big one, and we need to get all the Intel we can. We don't have the time to spare." Sorry, Charlie. You'll have to wait for me to raise a cold one to your memory. But I know you'll understand. We're at war. "What is Teal'c's status, General?" O'Neill asked, curious despite his sorrow.

"For the foreseeable future, Teal'c will remain here under my command."

Jack frowned. "Kennedy won't give up so easily," he stated.

"I know. And neither do I, Colonel. I've been in this man's Air Force for nearly thirty years. I've established quite a network of favors. Teal'c is a valuable resource to this command. One I don't intend to lose."

"That's good to hear, sir. So, you'll let him join SG-1?"

"I'm leaning in that direction. His actions in preventing the Goa'uld from escaping weigh heavily in his favor."

"He swore his allegiance to you, sir, and the SGC. His knowledge of what's out there," O'Neill waved his left hand in the air, "justifies his inclusion on my team."

"Then let's get started on extracting that information." Hammond stood, exited his office and entered the Briefing room. A subdued Colonel O'Neill followed, heartened he had made some points with the commanding officer to consider Teal'c's fate. He relegated writing the letter to Kawalsky's parents to his mental "To be done later" list.

****

Frustrated, Jack crumpled the piece of lined paper and tossed the wrinkled wad into the nearby wastebasket. It joined its fellows in the nearly full container. Sighing loudly, he tossed his pen aside and rested his head in his hands. It's not as if he hadn't done this before. It was S.O.P. to send the next of kin a letter notifying them of the tragic death of their loved one while in the service of their country. The message always seemed cold, unemotional, the words stark and blunt. The format was always the same, first paragraph state the reality of the death, second expound on the bravery of the heroic loved one, yadda, yadda, yadda. Kawalsky's parents deserved so much more. Charlie deserved so much more. Yes, their son was courageous and gave the ultimate sacrifice without hesitation. He died not only protecting his country but also his planet from a menace of a magnitude they were only now beginning to realize. How could Jack even begin to relay the emotions this loss had engendered in him much less offer comfort to grieving parents? His own recent personal experience proved he was sadly lacking in the comfort department. He should have been there for Sara, should have offered her the strength and compassion she so desperately needed to cope with the death of their son. Instead, he shut her out along with the rest of the universe.

O'Neill sighed, mentally slamming closed that line of thought. He combed his fingers through his short, brownish hair. A month ago he was retired, permanently he thought, cocooned in his own little reality, almost a hermit, ensconced in the suburbs of Colorado Springs. "I never should have unretired. What the hell am I doing here? I've been out of the game for over a year. Now General Hammond expects me to save the universe. I should have died on Abydos the first time, just like I planned. Maybe then Kawalsky would still be alive. Skaara would still be....normal."

He shuddered as the memories of their recent journey to Chulak raced through his mind. God, Skaara taken over by one of those snakes just like Kawalsky, just like Jackson's wife, Sha're. When he thought this situation could not get any worse, Teal'c drops the bombshell he was directly involved in kidnapping Skaara and Sha're from Abydos to be followed by the worse sin. He had been the one who selected Sha're for a host. Jack had never seen color drain so fast from someone's face as he witnessed Daniel's countenance go stark white before the stunned linguist stumbled from the briefing room.

"What a mess," he addressed his Spartan office. Hands covering his face, O'Neill leaned into the metal chair. Suddenly he felt constricted by these concrete walls. He had to get out of here.

//Good move, O'Neill//, he scolded himself as he entered the dim corridor beyond his office,// run away from your feelings just like you always do. Just like Sara, bless her, accused you of doing with everything.//

O'Neill began to wander the underground base noting there seemed to be an influx of military personnel bustling in the hallways. Since the Stargate had been reopened three weeks ago, the skeleton crew stationed here to close the program down permanently had been joined by personnel moving in to re-staff the base. The Goa'uld threat was real and they were the first line of defense against it. Suddenly the super secret Stargate project had become the highest priority program in the US military.

His wanderings eventually brought him to the entryway to the base infirmary. There was currently only one occupant, the still recovering Major Ferritti. Jabbed by a pang of guilt, Jack realized with all that had happened, he had not made time to visit the injured officer, as much a member of his team as Kawalsky had been. More guilt pervaded him as he recalled the vision of his friend, slouched in the now empty chair, coffee cup and magazine in hand, determined to remain at the wounded Ferritti's side until the soldier regained consciousness. Charlie knew the importance of learning if Lou had seen the gate address used by the invading Goa'uld on Abydos.

He watched Ferritti gamely attempt to eat, left-handed. O'Neill had to admire the man's determination to overcome his current predicament.

Regardless, here was an opportunity to correct things with a neglected team member. With Kawalsky gone, he and Ferritti were the only survivors of the original Abydos expedition. Well, almost, O'Neill amended as he sauntered into the infirmary.

"Colonel, sir," Ferritti greeted. He lowered his fork, and offered a sloppy left-handed salute.

"Knock it off, Ferritti," O'Neill groused pulling the vacant chair close to the bed and sitting down.

Ferritti lost the salute and the impish grin before his face became serious. "Sir, I haven't had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am about Major Kawalsky. I know you served together in Special Ops before the Stargate program."

"Thanks. Charlie was one of the good guys."

Ferritti smiled. "That he was, sir. He and I were stationed together for a time after that first mission to Abydos. Then we were separated. We often wondered where you had gone. No one would tell us anything, only that you had retired."

"Yeah, well, that's my fault. I kinda wanted to disappear," Jack confessed. "I know I should have kept in touch. But..."

"It's okay, sir. When Kawalsky and I found ourselves yanked back to this place, we knew something was going on. Looks like we're together again."

Jack grinned. "Looks that way," he repeated. "I'm sorry I didn't come visit you more often."

"That's okay, sir, I understand. There was a lot happening and you were needed. Kawalsky," Ferritti's voice cracked on the name of their dead comrade. "Well, he kept me updated on what was going on, even after he had that, that...thing in his head. It's hard to believe. Hundreds, maybe thousands of Stargates going who knows where." He waved his fork of mashed potatoes around for emphasis. "Looks like our assignment here's been extended indefinitely."

"Yeah. So how you doin' Ferritti?"

Ferritti straightened, smiling. "Nearly good as new, sir. I hear you recommended me to take command of SG-2. Thanks."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure you should be thanking me. I also recommended Charlie for that position."

"I still consider it an honor, sir, coming from you. Those Goa'uld have a lot to pay for, and I'm gonna see they do."

Jack couldn't argue with that declaration. He had a few scores to settle with the Goa'uld himself, the first two being to avenge Kawalsky's death and find and liberate Skaara.

"So, sir is the scuttlebutt true? I heard that the Jaffa, Teal'c, was directly responsible for Doctor Jackson's wife being made into one of those things, like Kawalsky."

"Yeah, it's true. The military grapevine is still the best communication system in the world," Jack wryly commented.

"Oh, man. Poor Doctor Jackson. How's he gonna deal with this?" Ferritti asked, looking to O'Neill as if he expected the senior officer to have the answer.

//You're right, Lou. I should have an answer but I don't.// "What's this, compassion for the civilian coming from you? Weren't you the one who tossed his books all over the sand dunes of Abydos and threatened to do the same to him?"

Ferritti's face reddened as he focused on his meal. "Yeah, okay I confess I was a dick head to Doctor Jackson on that first mission. He said he could get us home. I thought he lied, that we were never going home. But he saved our butts, attacked Ra with that staff weapon to rescue us and found the gate address to get us home. I never got the chance to apologize. I need to do that. You left me in charge of the Abydonians, and I didn't protect them from those snakeheads, didn't protect Doctor Jackson's wife. He must hate me. Probably why he's never come to see me."

"I doubt he hates you. Look, I'll let him know you want to talk to him, okay," Jack offered.

"Thanks, sir. I'd appreciate that. Anything I can do for him, anything, he just has to ask. I'm gonna see to it the Goa'uld pay for what they did to his wife," the soldier vowed. "So, you're serious about keeping him, and Captain Carter and Teal'c on your team as SG-1?" he asked, switching the topic of conversation.

"That's my plan."

Ferritti gave him a look of disbelief before shaking his head. It was apparent the soldier didn't give much chance of SG-1 surviving as a unit. Unfortunately, at the moment, he wasn't the only one, Jack admitted.

The wounded soldier grinned. "You know, sir, Kawalsky and I actually had a bet going as to whether you and the captain would arm wrestle."

"Yeah? So who bet on who?" O'Neill asked, curious.

"Kawalsky bet the captain could take you only because you'd been out of commission for over a year."

Jack harrumphed. "Kawalsky, you dog."

"Yeah," Ferritti sighed, his grin fading. "I'm gonna miss him. Do you know when the funeral will be, sir?"

"Not sure. He wanted to be cremated. General Hammond said Charlie will be buried at Arlington."

"No one deserves the honor more. I'd like permission to attend, sir," the soldier requested.

O'Neill nodded. "So do I. I'll pass your request to the general. If the doctors say you're recovered enough, I don't see why you can't." He grinned.

A prolonged silence fell between the two soldiers, each lost in memories of missions shared with their fallen comrade. Jack roused himself first as his conscience reminded him he still hadn't written the letter to Kawalsky's parents. He stood.

"Take care of yourself, Ferritti. I'll be seeing ya."

"Thank you, sir. Don't forget to tell Doctor Jackson I want to apologize to him."

"I won't." Flipping his own impish salute, Jack strolled from the infirmary.

****

Still not wanting to deal with the letter, Jack's wanderings eventually brought him to the base commissary. This was an excellent distraction, he quietly justified telling his conscience to go away. He ambled inside. The place was nearly full with personnel at various stages of consuming their meals. The aroma of cooked food was enticing but Jack knew he couldn't stomach nourishment right now. He opted instead to pour himself a cup of coffee and settled in at an empty corner table where he could sit and observe the comings and goings. It was another perfect excuse for not writing that letter.

When the commissary doors swung open a few minutes later, O'Neill's eyes were riveted to the new arrival. It was the way smarter than he Captain Samantha Carter. The blond haired woman strode directly to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug of the dark liquid. Then, she turned to survey the occupants of the cafeteria.

O'Neill saw recognition light her face when she spied him before she began a determined walk towards his location.

Sam Carter, she who had played with Mat Mason astronaut dolls as a girl, had a bit of a chip on her shoulder to use the cliché. She was probably justified in her way of thinking, she had to prove her capabilities in this man's Air Force. Not that Jack considered himself a sexist, it's just he'd never served with a female in his command before. However, to be honest, Jack had to concede she handled herself exceptionally well on the Chulak mission, as good as, or better, than any of the male soldiers he served with in the field over the past twenty years. He had given her performance high marks in the official report and they were totally unbiased. The captain had earned his respect, even if she was a scientist and way smarter than he was. If she was going to be a member of SG-1, his team, however, she had to ditch the chip. As her CO, Jack realized, it was his responsibility to see it gone. He wanted only the best on his team. Captain Carter, with her scientific background on how the Stargate actually functioned, combined with her Air Force education and military training, fit those requirements, despite her gender.

Carter stopped and stood over the seated officer. "Colonel O'Neill, sir," she greeted in formal military fashion. He nodded his acknowledgment. "Captain Carter. Care to join me?" Jack invited.

"Thank you, sir," Carter accepted, sitting in the vacant chair opposite him. She placed her coffee mug on the table. "Sir. I wanted to offer my condolences to you for the loss of Major Kawalsky. I heard you two had been friends and served together on previous missions. Even though he and I didn't get off on the best of terms, I admired him, sir. He'll be missed."

"Thank you, Captain. He actually liked you," Jack said remembering the uncollected bet between his deceased friend and Ferritti.

The captain smiled pleased with the praise. "Really, sir? I had no idea."

"Yeah, well Kawalsky was a private kind of guy," Jack quipped sipping more of his cooling coffee. "So, Captain, what brings you to the commissary?"

"Actually, I was looking for you, sir. While we're waiting for the computer program I developed to computate the stellar drift factor and select more gate addresses from the Abydos cartouche, I came to inform you I'll be returning to Washington DC for a few days. I have to pack and move out of my apartment and office in the Pentagon. Seems my tour of duty here will be an indefinite one." She smiled, obviously thrilled with reassignment to the SGC despite the danger of what adventures awaited them through the Stargate.

"Ahh. Only a few days?" Jack asked, again thinking Way, way smarter than me.

"Yes, sir, " came the confident reply. "I'm an Air Force brat from way back. I know how to pack and move on a moment's notice." Carter frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. General Hammond did approve. I didn't ask you because with what happened with Major Kawalsky I didn't want to bother you. I apologize for not following the chain of command."

"Apology accepted, Captain. But as your CO, go through me first from now on, okay?" Jack really didn't care how she worked out the leave, but if she was going to remain on SG-1, he may as well establish how he wanted things done right from the outset.

"Yes, sir. My flight leaves Peterson in about an hour. Oh, sir, there was something else." Carter began then hesitated.

"Go on," Jack encouraged.

"It's about Doctor Jackson, sir."

"Daniel?" Jack asked. "What about him?"

"Sir, are you aware he's been on existing on autopilot, I guess is the best way to describe it, since we returned from Chulak? He's not eating properly and I think he's living on coffee and Fifth Avenue bars. He told me he has to keep working or he'll dwell on his missing wife. He's not sleeping and was barely coherent in our last training sessions. Now with this confession from Teal'c, sir, it's not healthy. I like Doctor Jackson. But if he keeps going like this, well, he'll crash or he won't be at his best off world. He'll endanger the team. I mean no disrespect, sir," she quickly clarified. "But I am concerned."

Jack sensed Carter's tattling was as she said, an honest concern for the well being of one of her teammates, not an attempt to undercut or spread vicious lies. Once again Jack was annoyed with himself to discover one of his junior officers was doing his job.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention," Jack said. //Damnit,// he swore to himself, //why didn't I know? I'm his CO. Am I going to have to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake some sense into him?//

The object of their discussion wandered into the cafeteria. Carter was right, Jack thought observing Daniel weave his way to the coffee pot. //He looks like shit. Autopilot nothing. He looks like a zombie for crying out loud!// Jack took note of the pale, gaunt haunted looked on the archeologist's face and the rumpled appearance of his clothes. // He's probably worn that same T-shirt and BDUs since we got back from Chulak. Why didn't I notice during Teal'c's debriefing?//

Jack stood. "Captain. Have a safe trip. I'll see you in a few days."

Leaving one member of his team, satisfied everything was settled with his new 2IC, Jack strode to the side of another distressed team member. The linguist seemed to be having difficulty commanding his hands to pick up the coffee pot. Jack smoothly intercepted the quaking glass container, prying Daniel's fingers from the handle.

"Hey," Daniel protested, even though the word was slurred.

"You've had enough," Jack scolded setting the pot down. He yanked the empty ceramic mug from Daniel's other hand.

"What the hell are you doing? I need coffee," Daniel demanded petulantly.

"No, Doctor, you need rest and a proper meal. Lot's of rest from what I hear. C'mon," Jack ordered. With one hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's upper right arm he began to tug the archeologist behind him.

"Let go of me. I'm fine," Daniel protested weakly jerking his arm and failing to free it from the viselike grip. If Jack hadn't been holding on, Daniel's momentum would have allowed him to fall face first onto the floor. Realizing they were becoming the center of attention, Jack grabbed Daniel's other arm and shook the man once. Blurred, red-rimmed eyes tried to focus from behind slipping glasses.

"Like hell you're fine. You either come quietly, or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you outta here. You want that?"

"Noo, I want you to leave me alone."

"You've been left alone enough. Let's go."

Jack managed to drag the reluctant man from the commissary. Never releasing his grip on Daniel's arm, he lead the stumbling man down the corridor to the elevator. They arrived at Jackson's quarters and went inside. Jack pushed the doctor onto the lower bunk.

He towered over the slouch shouldered man, index finger pointed into Daniel's face. "Stay put."

"But--"

"Ahh. ah. That's an order, Jackson." Jack saw the pile of borrowed clothes he had given Daniel lying on the top bunk next to the canvas duffle bag. He shoved the discarded clothes into the bag. This uncovered several objects, one being Jackson's battered field journal and a thickly padded manila envelope. Shaking his head, Jack stuffed them into the duffle before shoving the bag against Daniel's chest. "Take it," he ordered.

The glaring Daniel reluctantly did, listing dangerously to his left. Jack opened the door. Spying an airman down the hall, he waved the soldier to come forward.

"Sir?" the airman asked, standing at attention.

"Airman, I want you stand here and keep Doctor Jackson from leaving. I'll return in a few minutes. Understood?"

"Am I under arrest or something?" Daniel asked, still not quite focusing on the two soldiers.

"Much worse than that, Doctor."

O'Neill departed, closing the door behind him. He exhaled, and ran one hand through his short, brown hair. If nothing else, he realized in these past few hours how badly he was failing as a commanding officer and team leader. He was either going to face the challenge or stay retired. Kawalsky's disapproving face floated in his memory. "Yeah, Charlie I hear ya," Jack muttered. "I let you down. But that's gonna change. Starting now."

Straightening his shoulders, O'Neill strode down the corridor, determination in his movements. His first destination was the infirmary where he held a brief discussion with Doctor Warner. Once he was given what he asked for, his next stop was Teal'c's quarters. He rapped on the door, before the SF unlocked it and allowed him entry. The Jaffa was kneeling on the cement floor, his smooth skinned dark head bowed.

//That has got to be killing his knees// Jack mused. "Teal'c."

"O'Neill."

"I'm going to be off base for a few days. I just wanted to stop by and reassure you you're safe here. No one will hurt you or pull another Kennedy on you. I know it's not much, but you have my promise and that of General Hammond."

The kneeling warrior lifted his head so he could see the standing man. "I believe in the word of O'Neill and General Hammond."

"Good. I'll try to live up to your expectations. Now about Daniel---"

"I have wronged the one called DanielJackson. My fate resides in his hands."

"Yeah, whatever. But while I'm gone, I'm going to square things with the one called Daniel Jackson. You're a member of SG-1 and so is he. Somehow, we have to find a way to make this work."

Teal'c's brow wrinkled around his golden emblem. "As O'Neill commands. However, my fate resides with DanielJackson. I will abide by his decision."

O'Neill sighed. //This is gonna be harder than I thought.// "Okay. See you in a few days."

The Jaffa bowed from the waist down as O'Neill departed. Jack paused long enough in his own office to briefly phone General Hammond, picked up a notebook, shut off the lights and closed the door. He returned to Daniel's quarters to find the airman on guard where he left him and an apparently zoned out Daniel staring at the bundle clutched in his hands.

"All right, airman. I'll take over from here. Return to your duties."

The soldier saluted smartly and departed.

Jack stood before the pathetic looking civilian. He leaned over and resumed his grasp encouraging Daniel to stand. The man did so reluctantly whether due to cussedness or exhaustion, Jack couldn't decide.

"Here we go, Doctor Jackson."

"Where?"

"I'm taking you home."

"No," Daniel weakly protested as O'Neill pulled him into the hallway. "I have work to do."

"The work will still be here when we get back," Jack continued leading the reluctant doctor into the elevator.

In an almost perfect replay of events from three weeks previous, Jack herded a now sneezing Daniel to his Jeep and assisted the archeologist into the passenger seat before fastening the seat belt. By the time the colonel had the Jeep rolling past the last security check point, Daniel was either asleep or passed out from exhaustion. His head rested against the window, his glasses askew and he was softly snoring. Jack shook his head and deftly removed the glasses, folding them one handed and slipping them into his jacket pocket for safekeeping.

When the Jeep pulled into Jack's driveway, Daniel still hadn't woken up. Jack got out, moved around the vehicle and roused the groggy man. He guided Daniel to the front porch and into his house steering the pliant body into the guest room where Daniel nearly collapsed onto the bed. Jack retrieved the canvas bag and set it outside the door. He pulled a drawer open in the dresser and took out a pair of gray sweats.

"Here, change into these," the officer instructed dropping the clothes into Daniel's lap. "I'll bring you something to help you sleep."

O'Neill didn't even wait for a reply exiting the bedroom and moving to the kitchen. He began to heat water for tea, setting the herbal bag in a cup. Waiting for the water to boil, Jack took out the pill vial he had gotten from Doctor Warner. Shaking out two of the white tablets, Jack crushed them into a fine powder with a spoon on the counter. He brushed the powder from the countertop into one hand before dusting it into the teacup. When the water was boiling, he added it and carried the steaming cup into the guest room. Daniel was slouched on the edge of the bed staring at the floor.

"Oh fer crying out loud, Daniel," O'Neill swore setting the teacup on the dresser. "Let's get out of those clothes and into the sweats shall we."

As he went about undressing then redressing the weakly protesting Daniel, O'Neill was painfully reminded of when he would do the same for his toddler son. Actually Daniel's current pathetic condition was reminiscent of a dependent child in need of attentive care. Jack again scolded himself for letting Jackson get into this state. The man was undergoing some very trying times and shouldn't be expected to deal with it alone. Hadn't O'Neill told him this on that first night after brusquely uprooting Daniel from Abydos and coercing him to return to Earth? Jack was the one who needed to make the effort here to see to the well being of his team. Fortunately, Captain Carter, aside from her need to prove herself, could be relied upon to take care of herself understanding the necessity to balance her duties with her physical requirements for the good of the team. Teal'c, once he was assured he would be accepted at the SGC, could probably adapt as needed. Daniel however, for whom unfortunate circumstances had required him to be self-reliant since an early age, was currently not demonstrating he could take care of himself. Daniel was Jack's responsibility. So he would have to be the one to play authority figure and disciplinarian to the archeologist. Ground rules would have to be laid and Daniel made aware of them and told he was expected to follow them. He wasn't a soldier but if he wanted to stay on SG-1, the civilian would have to accede to certain concessions.

Now dressed in the sweats, Jack held the steaming cup of tea before Daniel's face.

"I want you to drink this."

Daniel's red-rimmed eyes blinked several times. "What?"

"It's something to help you sleep."

"Don't want it," Daniel declared, weakly slapping at Jack's hand holding the steaming mug. "Need coffee," he continued, his voice hinting at how exhausted he was.

"No coffee. Drink this, or I'll knock you down and pour it down your throat. You know I can, and will, do it."

Daniel actually managed a halfhearted glare before taking the cup in trembling hands. He took a sip, his face screwing into a grimace.

"Drink all of it, Jackson," Jack ordered in his best hard ass colonel tone.

Slowly, the contents of the mug were swallowed. When it was empty, Jack took it and set it on the dresser. "Good. Now into bed." He lifted Daniel's legs onto the mattress, the movement causing the civilian to become unbalanced and flop backward into the pillows. Jack quickly covered the prone form tucking the sheet and comforter around Daniel's neck and shoulders. "I don't want to see your face outside this door for at least twelve hours."

"But..." Daniel began to protest, blinking rapidly to keep his eyes uncovered. "Not tired...have to..." He never finished as he lost his battle to stay awake.

Jack nodded in satisfaction. Doctor Warner guaranteed those sleeping pills would knock out a fully awake elephant never mind one stubborn, over exhausted archeologist. Gathering the empty coffee cup, Jack turned off the lights and quietly closed the door behind him.

Four excruciatingly long hours passed. Jack spent the time sitting at his dining room table, a writing pad placed before him deceptively void of the written word, the lone exception being the salutation to Kawalsky's parents. He desperately wanted to do this, one final tribute to his friend but the words refused to come.

"Damnit, Charlie," Jack swore slapping the pen onto the paper pad. He rubbed his hands vigorously across his face. Hands lowered, he glanced toward his front window. Blackness from without greeted him. It was appropriate the nighttime view matched his grieving mood. "Great excuse," he muttered, standing.

He walked to the refrigerator and retrieved a cold bottle of beer. Moving to the front door, Jack snagged his coat from where it hung and slipped it on. He eyed the closed door to the guest room before silently walking toward it. Quietly, Jack peered inside.

Daniel was asleep. The light angling from the dining room highlighted the long bangs feathered across his forehead and into his closed eyes. Doc Warner and that sedative had both delivered. Jack didn't want Daniel to sleep, he wanted the man comatose. The rest would benefit him physically and maybe, for a time, Jackson would not think of the recent horrors invading his life nor experience the nightmares he desperately wanted to avoid, at least according to Carter.

//You are such a softie, O'Neill// Jack chided himself pulling the door closed. //Still, I wish I could keep the nightmares away but all I can do for you Daniel is be here when they come. Geez, what do you think about that, Kawalsky, huh? It's not as if he's my best friend or anything.//

Having satisfied himself the archeologist was soundly sleeping, Jack exited his home and quickly climbed the ladder leading to his rooftop deck. He easily settled into the familiar chair. The night air was brisk but the sky overhead was clear, the stars twinkling. No moon tonight either, Jack recalled twisting off the bottle cap. The telescope, however, stood ignored. Tonight he would toast his friend and comrade, honor Charles Kawalsky's ultimate sacrifice and remember a good man and a damn fine soldier.

Bottle raised to the heavens, O'Neill softly spoke. "This one's for you, Charlie. It was an honor serving with you."

Ferritti was right, Jack thought as he sipped his beer. The Goa'uld were so gonna pay. If he, Jack O'Neill, was going to become the snakes’ worst nightmare, he had to re-establish both his no-nonsense, hardass CO persona and regain his fighting form. He owed it to himself, his new teammates, and to those whom they had already lost in this new war to be the best he could be.

"Lose the clichés, O'Neill," he chided as the half empty beer bottle again toasted the stars overhead. "I won't let you down, Charlie, I swear."

The remaining beer was swallowed. There was a lot of work ahead. Jack had two team members who would need his guidance and lots of individual attention. Somehow, he had to devise a way to get Daniel and Teal'c to work together. It wouldn't be easy. As the CO, it was his job. SG-1 would become the functioning, cohesive premiere team of the SGC. Jack was prepared and determined to do whatever it took to achieve that goal.

****

Midmorning the following day, a rejuvenated Jack O'Neill sat at his dining room table rapidly scribbling on the lined paper. Jackson had been asleep for over sixteen hours. Jack had roused several times in the night to assure himself the archeologist was still breathing. His most recent verification of that fact had occurred a few moments ago. Jack was willing to let the civilian sleep for as long as was needed.

Writing completed, Jack ripped the page from the pad and laid it on top of the manila envelope he'd taken from Jackson's quarters. A smaller, crumpled piece of paper also disappeared under the larger sheet.

Jack took up his pen once again and began to write on the clean sheet of paper. The pen hesitated, hovering. A soft click had sounded from behind the seated man. Jack waited, unmoving. His patience was rewarded.

"Ahh,...umm..Jack...er, Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack grinned at the stuttering, unsure greeting followed by a loud yawn. "Good morning, Doctor Jackson," he replied, not turning around.

Daniel stumbled his way to the table and plopped into an empty chair. Jack schooled his face into his stern colonel-in-charge expression before looking directly at the rumpled gray sweats clad, stubble faced, mop haired form slouched in the chair.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Um..I guess..." Daniel rubbed his eyes before squinting at the surroundings. "Are we at your house?"

"Very observant, Doctor."

"Oh. I thought I was dreaming or something." The forehead under the curtain of bangs wrinkled. "Did you yell at me?" Daniel asked, tired puffy eyes blinking rapidly as he awaited an answer.

"That was real," Jack confessed. He laid the pen on the writing pad. "How about some breakfast?" he suggested.

"Not hungry. Coffee?" the archeologist asked, a begging tone to his request.

"No coffee. You're eating real food."

"No..." Daniel began in protest.

O'Neill's index finger waved inches from Daniel's nose. Jack fought the smile threatening to break his hardass facade as Daniel's red-rimmed blue eyes tried unsuccessfully to follow the reprimanding finger. "My house, my rules."

Jack stood and walked into the kitchen a response already formulated to the anticipated vocal protest. Surprisingly, none came.

//I owe you one, Warner//, Jack reminded himself as he went about expertly whipping up scrambled eggs while toasting several slices of bread and zapping bacon in the microwave. When the meal was prepared, Jack carried the full plate and set in before the dozing Daniel. Grinning, Jack deliberately clanked the plate on the table startling the scientist into wakefulness.

"Food. Eat." Jack commanded holding the fork in Daniel's face. "I want that plate empty," he added placing the fork beside the plate before sitting in his own chair. He retrieved his pen and held it. When he noticed Jackson wasn’t eating, he frowned. "I don't see that food disappearing into your mouth. Don’t make me force-feed you," he threatened in his best paternal scolding tone.

The first forkful of yellow, fluffy egg was scooped up and reluctantly entered Daniel's mouth. The archeologist tried, and failed, to muster a unhappy glare as he chewed then swallowed. Jack merely arched his eyebrows, satisfied with the progress. The silent minutes ticked past as Daniel ate and Jack stared at his pen. Finally, breakfast eaten, Daniel set his fork on the now empty plate, dotted with flakes of egg, toast crumbs and spots of grease.

"Do you want seconds?" Jack asked.

"No. I'm full. Thanks." Daniel combed his fingers through his unruly hair and yawned. "What are you doing?"

Jack noticed Daniel was honestly curious, all trace of his earlier irritation at being forced to eat and denied coffee gone.

//What could it hurt to tell him?// "I'm trying to write the official letter of condolence to Kawalsky's folks."

"Ohh, yeah, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I never told you after he...well, I'm sorry," Daniel offered. "He was a courageous man."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too. You know me, I'm not good at this comfort stuff," Jack confessed, wondering how Jackson, a man he barely knew, managed to root out and encourage Jack to voice his deepest thoughts and feelings as well as openly talk of his many faults.

"He was your friend? I mean, it seemed to me you knew each other before the first Abydos mission."

Jack nodded. "We went back a lot of years, served together on missions, the covert hush hush kind. We hadn't been together for a long time until General West recruited me into the Stargate program. I named my son after him, and I never told him. Some friend, huh?"

"Well, sounds like you shared some good memories. Just remember those, and the friend he was, and the words will come," Daniel suggested.

Jack snorted. "Yeah. Easy for you to say, Doctor Linguist. Words are what you do."

"I'm just trying to help," Daniel countered, lowering his gaze to his folded hands resting on the table.

"I'm sorry," Jack immediately apologized. //Geez, Jack you are such an asshole sometimes.// He had heard the hurt in Daniel's words caused by his insult and thoughtlessness. "I shouldn't take it out on you. It's just not easy."

"Writing something like that should never be," Daniel observed, all trace of hurt now gone from his voice. "You could let General Hammond--"

"No," Jack interrupted. "No. The general didn't know Kawalsky. I did. Besides, he was a member of my team."

"And your responsibility."

"Right."

Again the silence enveloped the two men. Jack, impatiently waiting for the inspiration to come, began tapping his fingers on the tabletop. He would glance at Daniel noting the man was apparently still in the clutches of the sedative as he was having difficulty focusing. Of course, Jack hoarding his glasses probably wasn't helping. Eventually, Daniel's fuzzy gaze located the manila envelope and the covering paper.

"Um, what's this?" he asked picking up Jack's scribbled paper.

"You're "to do" list."

"What?"

"You're "to do" list" Jack repeated. Now was as good a moment as any to get started on the mothering of one Daniel Jackson. "I discovered you've been avoiding doing some of the things we discussed on your last visit here." He held up the uncovered crumpled piece of paper. "While you were getting your beauty rest, I did your laundry and found this stuffed into your BDU's pocket." Eying the wrinkled object, he continued. "Looks suspiciously like your paycheck for your two weeks of consulting work deciphering the gate."

Daniel stared owlishly at the incriminating evidence. "Do you know where my glasses are?"

Jack guessed Daniel, despite his fogged state, had deduced where this conversation was going. "As a matter of fact, I do. I'm holding them hostage for the moment. Don't change the subject." He pushed the thick manila envelope toward Daniel who shied away from it like it was a ferocious beast prepared to attack him. "I took the liberty of bringing this along from your office. Inside is your life, Doctor Daniel Jackson. In the eyes of the United States government and the Air Force, you are now officially undead as evidenced by a second check for services rendered, with interest, during your time spent on Abydos, your military ID card, all the appropriate security clearances, security card and a new Social Security card."

Daniel said nothing, continuing to stare at the envelope.

"Tomorrow, we're going to my bank, get your account established and your paychecks deposited. Then we'll get you a driver's license."

"No."

"Yes," Jack countered.

"No, Jack, please," Daniel begged, watery blue eyes looking directly at the colonel. "If I do that, it means I'm giving up on finding Sha're and Skaara, that I'll never return home to Abydos. What if we find her, or, them, on the next planet we visit?"

"It would be great, and I'd be very happy for you. But what if we don't?"

Daniel closed his eyes and lowered his head.

"That's what I thought. You need a contingency plan, Daniel. Reestablishing your identity here on Earth is not a confession you'll not find her, not a sign you're conceding defeat. But you have to consider our search may take a long time. As much as I enjoy having you as a house guest, you'll eventually want your own place, your own refuge where you can go and do whatever."

Daniel's eyes remained tightly shut, head bowed, his hair hung forward curtaining most of his face.

//Great, O'Neill, you pushed too hard. Like I said, I am not good at this comfort stuff. Too late to stop now, may as well go the whole way.// "Okay, maybe I'm wrong but I thought you were willing to do whatever it takes to find her." //Here goes.//

"How can you say that!!!" Daniel snapped, his weary eyes sparking with a hint of anger.

//Finally, I knew you were a fighter Daniel.//

"Of course I'll do whatever is needed to find her!" Daniel continued, his voice hard with increased ire. Suddenly, as Jack watched, the blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Damn you!" Daniel hissed. Leaning forward, arms crossed, resting on the table, he glared at O'Neill.

Jack realized he had never seen Daniel angry and guessed it was an emotional state the younger man avoided at all costs.

"You...you..." Daniel struggled to speak. He swallowed and physically straightened his posture, getting himself under control. "You seriously expect me to work with...with...him, like nothing's wrong, don't you?" he finally articulated. There was no mystery who the ‘him’ referred to.

"No," Jack denied keeping his voice and gaze level, " I want you to decide whether you want to be a member of SG-1 or stay on the base as a consultant, like Hammond wants, and let us military types do the planetary exploring while searching for Sha're and Skaara."

"Do you know what you're asking?" Daniel's voice was husky with emotion, his hidden personal pain revealed and raw for Jack to see.

"Yes, I do," the older man stated. //Believe me, Daniel, I see your hurt and I know what I'm asking.//

"How can you accept him on your team knowing of his involvement with Skaara's abduction?"

Jack had anticipated a question like this. He had a ready answer. "That's an honest question, Daniel. I don't blame Teal'c, he's doing a great job of punishing himself already. I blame Apophis and all the Goa'uld. They're evil and deserve to be destroyed like Ra. I could hate Teal'c. But he's a victim, too. He defied his god, false god, to save our butts on Chulak and willingly come with us to an unknown fate. I know you're a fair man. If you think about it, you'll see how courageous an act that was. Hell, the two of you were getting along great until he dropped that bombshell in the debriefing. Remember how terrified Kasuf and the Abydonians were until we, or rather you, proved the Goa'uld weren’t gods?"

Daniel covered his face with his hands. "He killed your friend," came the muffled accusation from behind the sheltering hands.

//Low blow, especially coming from you, Doctor Jackson. Okay, stay calm, O'Neill. Remember, he's hurting and he's lashing out.// "My friend died on the operating table," Jack repeated the truth he told Teal'c in the gate room and felt the same despair now as he did then. He waited for a response but none came. Time to move forward. "Look, I don't need an answer right now. Take the rest of the day."

Hands fell away at the flippant remark and Daniel's glare resumed.

Ignoring it, Jack continued. "I brought you this." He pushed a bound notebook across the table toward Daniel. Jack fished out the missing glasses from his shirt pocket and laid them on the leatherlike cover. "Maybe you should follow your own advice, Doctor. Write about what happened on Chulak. Write how you feel about Teal'c. The time for hiding is over."

Daniel finally broke the stare down between the two stubborn men. Sighing, he took his glasses and slipped them on his face. Snatching up the notebook and his "to do" list, he stood. Without speaking, he stepped down into the sunken living room. Jack watched him go. Daniel was entitled to some privacy.

//That went well,// Jack sarcastically told himself taking up his pen once more. //You've waited long enough, Charlie.// The pen began to move easily across the paper.

****

Jack passed the remainder of the day composing the letter. The words had finally come. Once completed, he resumed his housework, finishing the laundry and sorting through his older clothes selecting more hand-me-downs for Daniel. Occasionally, he would surrepitiously peer from the dining area into the lower level living room. Daniel was seated in the chair by the fireplace. He had turned it so he faced the window fronting the backyard. Whenever Jack checked, Daniel was either writing in the notebook or staring out the window.

By nightfall, Jack had accomplished all the chores he could think of to do. The rumbling of his stomach signaled he was hungry. Time to also feed the archeologist then tuck him in for the night.

Jack's trek to the living room was never completed as Daniel met him by the dining room table.

"Hey, " Jack greeted. "I was thinking about making dinner. How does soup and grilled cheese sandwiches sound?" He deliberately kept his tone upbeat.

"Fine." Daniel sat heavily in the chair he had occupied earlier in the day placing the notebook and "to do" list on top of the manila folder.

"Good." Jack was surprised with Daniel's capitulation. He at least expected the younger man to whine about being deprived of coffee. His brown eyes roved from the disheartened man to his hand written letter. "Could I ask a favor?" He retrieved the letter. Daniel focused on him. "Here's my letter. Would you mind reading it while I get dinner? Let me know your honest opinion."

Nodding, Daniel took the paper from Jack.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack returned carrying a tray holding two bowls of steaming soup, and several well toasted grilled cheese sandwiches. "Well?" he prompted, distributing the food.

"It's a very moving tribute to Major Kawalsky. I wouldn't change any of it."

"So, you're saying it's okay?"

"It's okay," Daniel repeated. "The major was fortunate to have a friend who would honor him like this."

Pleased, Jack took the letter and set it aside. "I just followed your advice."

"That's a first," Daniel noted his spoon stirring the soup.

"Well don't get a swelled head over it, Jackson. I'm still the colonel here," Jack bantered.

"Whatever you say, Colonel, sir."

It took a few seconds for Jack to realize Daniel was teasing him with a hint of wicked humor. The older man swore he saw a flash of a pleased grin on the younger man's face. //You little sneak. I'll have to watch myself around you, won't I, Doctor Jackson?// Realization came as Jack took his first bite of sandwich. He nearly choked on the food trying to swallow it so he could speak. "Hey, what do you mean, that's a first? I followed your advice on Abydos," he rebutted.

Daniel's eyebrows arched above his glasses and he gave O'Neill a "What, are you kidding look?"

"As CO I gather information from my team so I can make informed, command decisions," Jack continued. //Why am I justifying myself to the civilian?// But he saw Daniel was no longer participating in their little game so he wisely said no more.

The meal was eaten in silence. Daniel was the first to break it.

"I've made my decision," he announced. Jack waited for him to continue. Daniel's spoon clinked into the empty soup bowl. "You're right. Apophis is to blame. I hate him and all the Goa'uld for what they are. But I'm going to need some time to accept being in his presence. I'll tolerate him because he’s a valuable resource. I can't promise you more than this right now and I shouldn't have to. I don't think I can forgive him for what he did." Daniel looked directly to Jack. "I want to be a member of SG-1."

Jack nodded. "That's fair. I know you'll do the best you can."

"Okay. Before the debriefing, I did promise him I would teach him how to read and write our language."

"You know, he does have a name."

The glare flaring on O'Neill was strong enough to melt rock. "Jack, don't push it, okay?"

The soldier held up his hands, capitulating. He knew he'd crossed the line.

"I was saying," Daniel continued, regaining control, "I keep my promises. So, while we're out tomorrow, can you take me to a bookstore so I can buy some children’s books."

Jack was impressed the man would even consider upholding this promise. He would have understood if Daniel reneged. It was another useful insight to what made Daniel Jackson tick. The man possessed an inner strength Jack was only beginning to witness. Recalling how easily and eagerly Daniel shared knowledge with the Abydonians, Jack guessed the linguist was a natural born teacher. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, Jackson was going to share his talents, knowledge and yes, compassion, with Teal'c. Jack had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"I think I can help you," Jack said, standing. One finger waved in the air. "Wait right here." He hurried from the dining room leaving a baffled Daniel behind and disappeared into the basement. After several minutes of successful searching, he returned, a cardboard box in his arms. Placing it on the table, he opened the flaps. Reaching in he began extracting colorfully illustrated hard covered children's books. "Will these do?" Jack asked displaying the twenty or so volumes on the table. "These are, or were, my son's. You may as well get some use out of them. They're just collecting dust in the basement." He became silent, feeling the all too familiar tightening of his throat as the emotions engendered by the remembrance of his dead son swirled inside.

Apparently, Daniel noticed Jack's emotional struggle and shifted his compassionate gaze from the older man to the books arrayed on the table. He reverently lifted one, his long fingered hand caressing the shiny cover.

//Just like it was a gazillion year old rock, er, artifact// Jack observed. //Hey, that's a good one. I'll have to remember that to tease the archeologist.//

"Are you sure?" Daniel finally asked, stacking the books as he scrutinized each one. "These must hold fond memories for you."

"Sure they do, the best. But I taught Charlie to share. Take them. Use them. Teach Teal'c." Jack could say no more. The emotions, temporarily held at bay, surged forth. He busied himself with gathering their dirty dishes and taking them to the kitchen. There was no reason for him to wash the dishes now, but that was what he chose to do. The delay gave him time to regain his composure. Daniel, thankfully, must have realized Jack needed the solitude and remained in the dining room, silent and waiting.

Once again in control, Jack rejoined the younger man. He noticed the books and cardboard box had disappeared. Jack grinned, grateful for the gesture. Jackson's entire life had fallen apart yet he still put the needs of others before his own.

"So," O'Neill said, sitting.

"So," Daniel repeated. "Umm, I have some problems with this," he fingered Jack's handwritten "to do" list.

"What problem? It's straightforward."

Daniel's right index finger pointed upward. "Ah, no." The finger lowered to tap on the paper. "What's this exercise thing?"

"You need to start a regular exercise program. Need to build up your stamina."

"I'm fit enough," Daniel protested, frowning.

"You may be younger, but that don't mean squat. Granted, having to walk everywhere on Abydos kept you active. But we may have off world missions where we walk days away from the Stargate carrying fifty pound packs." At Daniel's disapproving expression, Jack relented somewhat. "We'll do it together if for no other reason than to stop me from pestering you about it. I'm outta shape myself. We'll start slow, gradually increase the regimen. Deal?" //I can't believe I'm negotiating with the archeologist. I am still the colonel here. Why do I suddenly have the sinking feeling I've just made a huge tactical error?// Jack's waning patience was finally rewarded.

"Okay," Daniel conceded. "Now, this basic field ops training. What's that?"

"Just the basics so you'll know how to function within the team. Learn hand signals for instance."

"Hand signals?"

"Think of it as another form of communication," Jack suggested, pleased with his inspired idea. He saw, however, Daniel still wasn't buying into the concept.

"I'm not a soldier. I don't want to be."

"I'm not saying you have to be. Just be able to take care of yourself, follow orders. You know, orders, like don't wander off and hit the ground. This way the four of us will know we can rely on each other."

"I won't let you down, Jack," Daniel said, defensive.

"I'm not saying you will. It'll be the four of us in the training. Teal'c has to learn, too. No one's gonna rag you if that's what you're worried about. Anyone does, they'll answer to me. No one messes with my team."

Daniel remained silent, a pensive expression on his face. Jack suddenly realized he had intuitively honed in on the younger man's concern. Jackson had not been welcomed on the first mission to Abydos. Daniel's harassment by the soldiers, Ferritti in particular, must still bother the archeologist. Come to think of it, Daniel's presence hadn't exactly been embraced on the mission to Chulak either even though Jack had supported Daniel's insistence he be allowed to go. Ferritti wasn't the only one who owed an apology to Daniel.

"Together? You promise?" Daniel finally asked, seeking reassurances.

//Damn, sometimes I hate it when I'm right.// "Promise."

"Okay." Daniel nodded. He again perused the "to do" list. "Umm, talk to Ferritti? Why?" directing the query to Jack.

"Because he's got a serious guilt trip going on. He blames himself for not protecting Sha're and Skaara from Apophis. He thinks you do, too, and that's why you haven't visited him in the infirmary."

"No, that's not the reason. I thought Ferritti didn't like me," Daniel explained.

Jack hunched his shoulders. "What can I say. He wants to apologize."

"There's no need but I'll talk to him." Daniel looked at the paper. "Now about me carrying a weapon. I didn't have one on Chulak, aside from the knife. I don't need a gun."

"Yes, you do."

"Why? You and the Captain Doctor will have weapons. I'm assuming he will, too."

"We've discussed this before. This is not a negotiable issue, Daniel. No gun, no trips through the Stargate." Jack countered. //I am still the colonel here.// "Why are you fighting me on this? I saw you aim and fire my handgun on Abydos. You did okay with that staff weapon."

A slight blush colored Daniel's stubble face. "I was aiming for Ra, actually," came the confession.

"Hey, extenuating circumstances. I couldn't have done any better. Look, I'll teach you myself, gun safety, going to the firing range, everything." Daniel remained silent. "The gun is for protection, yours and the team's. I'm not expecting you to become Rambo."

Jack knew the moment Daniel capitulated by the way he slouched into the chair.

"Okay," the archeologist surrendered. Then, he yawned.

"Yeah, you need to get some sleep, " Jack mothered. He glanced out the front window and noted darkness had once again fallen.

"Did you put something in the tea last night?"

Jack considered lying, then decided that would be the wrong thing to do. "Well, yeah. I got some sedatives from Doc Warner."

"Have any more?" came the hesitant inquiry.

In answer, Jack went to the kitchen and retrieved the vial and a glass of water. He placed both on the table before the weary archeologist.

"Would you think any less of me if I take these?" Daniel asked, peering up from under his bangs.

"No, not at all."

"This will be the last time, Jack, I promise. I just..."

"No explanation necessary, Doctor Jackson."

He watched with a sympathetic eye as Daniel swallowed two of the white pills drinking all the water from the glass.

"Coffee tomorrow?" Daniel pleaded, handing Jack the empty glass.

"Sure."

Daniel nodded and stood. He gathered the manila envelope, the crumpled check, notebook and "to do" list before shuffling toward the darkened guest room. He paused at the open doorway and turned. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For caring."

Daniel entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Jack harrumphed. There had been a wealth of meaning behind those two words. He got the impression Jackson had passed most of his life adrift, uncared by anyone. Until Abydos. Now that security was gone, ripped away in a few moments of unguarded carelessness.

"I care," Jack whispered, amazed at the warm feelings this elicited. He hadn't cared for, or about, anyone for a long time, not since his son died. The gaping hole in his heart suddenly didn't seem quite so large anymore. "Ahh, cut it out, O'Neill." Shaking his head at the unaccustomed sappy thoughts, Jack gathered his letter reverently folding it before slipping it into his coat pocket.

//This is going to be an interesting relationship, Kawalsky. Not that Jackson and me will become best friends like we two were or anything. But it will certainly be interesting.//

****

Jack exited Hammond's office. He had to flatten himself against the wall as yet another harried group of techs, maintenance personnel and several SF's hustled through the hallway. The base was abuzz with activity. More personnel were arriving each day.

Human congestion finally cleared away, Jack headed for the elevator. He had delivered his letter for the general to review. The base commander had read it and voiced his approval of its contents and would assure it was typed for signature and sent to the next of kin. He informed O'Neill Major Kawalsky's funeral was scheduled day after tomorrow at Arlington. Jack was on his way to the Infirmary to inform Ferritti and let the recovering soldier know he had been cleared for travel to attend the solemn event.

The colonel entered the elevator and pushed the button for the floor on which the Infirmary was located. Carter had called the base earlier. She was packed, her stuff already winging it's way to Colorado. She requested, and was granted, permission to join O'Neill at Kawalsky's funeral before returning with her new CO to the base. Jack grinned. Following the chain of command, exactly the way he wanted the process to work.

Exiting the infirmary a short time later, Jack once again sought the elevator. Ferritti had told Jack, Daniel had visited earlier in the day. The two former adversaries had talked

although Jack surmised Daniel had done all the talking, reassuring Ferritti he held no ill feelings toward the soldier and Ferritti had meekly and graciously accepted the absolution. Daniel had told Ferritti, in parting, he was going to give Teal'c his first reading lesson so that was Jack's current destination.

Jack admitted he was curious to know how this was going to play out. He had deviously manipulated Daniel into making a huge concession where Teal'c was concerned. Daniel had reluctantly agreed to abide by O'Neill's wishes for the good of the team. Talking was good, but putting actions to those words was another matter altogether. If the roles were reversed, Jack knew he would never even take this first step which proved Daniel Jackson was a way better man than he could ever hope to be.

The elevator door slid open and Jack exited. He rounded the corner and stopped. Daniel was down the hallway. He was leaning against the wall, the children's books gathered in his arms. The two SFs guarding the locked entrance to Teal'c's quarters were the only others present. It was deja vu all over again, Jack realized as he ambled toward the slouched Daniel and stopped.

"Hey, Daniel," Jack greeted, slipping his hands into his BDU's pockets. "Problem?"

"No," the archeologist denied. "Well, just....trying to find the courage to go in," he admitted.

"Ahh. You can't stand out here all day."

"I can try." Daniel's gaze drifted downward. He inhaled deeply and stood. "You're right. I made a promise to you and him. Time to honor them."

Jack patted Daniel on the shoulder. With his hand resting lightly on Daniel's back he escorted the linguist to the secured door. At a nod, the SF slid the key card through the lock then opened the door. With an encouraging grin, Jack stepped away as Daniel entered the cell like room. The SF began to close the door but Jack halted its progress with an outstretched hand. A tiny crack remained, just enough for him to hear. He had to reassure himself Daniel and Teal'c would not engage in bloodletting while he was attending Kawalsky's funeral.

"DanielJackson. I have wronged you and am now prepared to fulfill whatever you demand in retribution, even forfeiture of my life for the one I have taken from you."

Jack screwed his face at the Jaffa's sincere words of capitulation. //Teal'c, you just had to go and do it, didn't you? C'mon Daniel, please don't take him up on his offer// Jack pleaded with the unseen archeologist.

"Why did you select her?" he heard Daniel finally speak.

"She was the only one who refused to face us as we entered the room. The others groveled in fear. She defied us."

"Sha're is strong. She will not let Ammonet rule her. Despite what you said, something of the host must remain. I'm here to teach you, Teal'c, as I said I would. When I give a promise, I honor it. Do you?"

Jack silently cheered when he heard Daniel address the Jaffa by his name.

"Yes."

"Okay. I want you to promise me right here and right now, you will do anything asked of you to help us find Sha're and Skaara and free them from the Goa'uld."

"I vow on my life I shall assist you in finding and freeing your wife and the boy."

Jack was impressed at how Daniel was proceeding with this most difficult task. There was a steely resolve behind those unassuming glasses and mop of hair, a sharp intellect capable of devising creative ways of solving problems. Jack noted he would have to make use of that resource. He also realized his admiration for Daniel Jackson had elevated into the stratosphere even if he was a geek and a scientist.

"You will tell us everything of the Goa'uld," Daniel's voice floated through the slivered opening.

"I will gladly share what knowledge I have."

Jack heard a chair scraping across the hard floor. "Then we'd better get started. Sha're and Skaara are waiting for us to save them."

Jack pulled the door closed. Fisted hands raised above his head in victory, he voiced a whispered "Yes!" This team was going to make it.

****

"Okay, Daniel," Jack began, as he turned from his locker, settling his olive gray baseball cap on his head. "Oh fer crying out loud," he cursed at the sight which greeted him. The archeologist was struggling with strapping his gun holster properly around his right thigh. "Let me do that," he snapped smacking Daniel's fumbling hands away. With practiced ease, Jack quickly secured the gun at both belt level and mid thigh.

"OW!!" Daniel complained loudly. "That's too tight!" as Jack yanked the thigh straps into place.

"Quit your whining, it is not." Jack saw Captain Carter quickly conceal an amused smile behind one of her hands. O'Neill glared and she immediately lost her smile, standing at blank faced attention. He did, however, catch the laughing twinkle in her eye.

"Okay, Daniel," Jack resumed addressing the civilian, " extract the gun from the holster and show me safety on, safety off."

"Jack, we've already been through this," an exasperated Daniel reminded.

"Humor me."

Sighing, Daniel unhooked the strap and removed the weapon. He held it nozzle pointed ceiling ward. His thumb clicked the safety mechanism. "Safety off," then clicked it into place. "Safety on. Never aim the weapon unless you intend to fire it. Otherwise, when drawn hold it up." Daniel favored Jack with a 'Are we done' look.

"Very good, Doctor Jackson. Now reholster it."

Daniel obeyed.

Jack patted Daniel's right shoulder. "Just follow all my orders with the same enthusiasm and we'll get along just fine."

"Sir, shouldn't Teal'c be here by now?" Carter asked.

"Yeah, I'll go see what the holdup is. You two kids go to the ‘gate room and wait for us. Carter, on the way, quiz Doctor Jackson on the hand signals."

"Yes, sir," the captain acknowledged sheparding a scowling Daniel from the locker room. Jack followed, going in the opposite direction, listening to the two scientists babbling to each other in science speak interspersed with hand signals. Maybe the naysayers were right about the composition of his team, Jack mused. He must be nuts.

Jack learned Teal'c's delay was originating from Hammond's office. He entered, to find Colonel Kennedy fidgeting in front of a seated Hammond. The red phone held to the general’s ear indicated whom he was speaking to.

"Oh, absolutely. That's good to hear," a jovial Hammond spoke into the phone receiver. "Anytime, sir, you just come on down. We'll be glad to have you."

//Presidential visit, huh,// Jack thought during the pause in Hammond's conversation. He noted the expression on Kennedy's face was not a happy one. //Score one for the home team.//

"Well, hell, sir, he's right here. Why don't you tell him yourself. I'm sure he'd like to hear it from you," a beaming Hammond handed the red handset to the Langley officer.

"Yes, Mr. President." Kennedy's disappointed frown deepened. "Yes, sir."

Standing, Hammond escorted O'Neill from his office leaving Kennedy behind to suffer the presidential reprimand.

"Ah, sir?" Jack prompted.

"Not to worry, Colonel. Teal'c is getting prepped as we speak. Kennedy tried an end round which I effectively blocked. As I told you..."

"Thirty years in this man's Air Force," Jack supplied.

"Exactly," a satisfied Hammond stated.

The two officers entered the ‘gate room where Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson were silently waiting.

"Colonel O'Neill, is SG-1 ready to ship out?" Hammond inquired.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you have a go for a standard Reconn mission of P3575," the general relayed.

The thick metal security doors rumbled open and Teal'c strode in, outfitted in the same military field clothes worn by the others. He carried his staff weapon in one hand, a helmet tucked under his other arm.

"Reporting as ordered," the warrior addressed Hammond.

Jack noted Teal'c's dark face was stoic, but caught the hint of relief and joy in the man's deep bass tones.

O'Neill leaned toward his fourth team member, "Sir," he prompted, "Sir."

"Sir," Teal'c immediately repeated.

Hammond favored the two men with a paternalistic smile. "Welcome aboard, son."

Jack smiled himself while guiding Teal'c to the base of the ramp. The wormhole had kawhoosed into existence, it's silver blue event horizon rippling, awaiting their entry.

"The MALP reports conditions on the planet are favorable," Carter informed her CO.

O'Neill nodded and glanced to Daniel, noticing the archeologist had physically positioned himself as far as possible from Teal'c. //But at least the four of us are standing at the’ gate ramp. This is progress.// "Well," he said and stepped forward, his team dutifully following his lead. //Here we go. This is for you, Kawalsky.//

O'Neill approached the wormhole. He had lost an old, dear friend but maybe, just maybe, he would find new friends among his three team mates following him into the unknown.

El Fin

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know this title has been used for several earlier fics but I honestly can’t think of a better one. This is the second of four planned fics centered on the formation of SG-1. The first fic was Journal, already posted to the list earlier this year. The third fic will be my version of SG-1's first off world mission to P3575. The final fic is tentatively scheduled to appear in the SG-1 zine, Gateways 5. Thanks to Val for beta and posting duties. Just in case, // indicates unspoken thoughts if the italics do not appear in the text.

© June, 2002 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.