CHAPTER 15 - SHADES OF GREY
Secrets and Lies
Part 1 - Prologue
Journal Entry, Earth
Finally. After two weeks of almost non-stop work, I finally have my presentation ready for the Tollan High Council. Establishment of diplomatic relations with the Tollans could be one of our most important accomplishments for Earth's future. The Tollans are far beyond us technologically, and we could benefit greatly by persuading them to share their knowledge with us. Granted, it's going to be a hard sell, but I think I've anticipated all their arguments, and if they'll just give me a chance, I think I can get them to agree to some concessions. One thing I have on my side is that they know me and trust me. Well, as much as the Tollans trust anyone who isn't a Tollan.
I would have had this finished at least two days ago if Jack hadn't been playing Sleep Police. After three years of working with me, he still doesn’t quite understand that my body is quite happy working at two o'clock in the morning. Sometimes that's the only time I get any peace around here. I hate shutting my door when I'm working because sometimes people need answers right away, and I discovered some time ago (through sheer accident) that if my door is shut, no one is 'allowed' to knock. Apparently that's a Colonel O'Neill Rule. Apparently he did learn early on if he left my office and closed the door behind him, I was usually too involved in my work to notice. It did buy me uninterrupted work time, but when I'd finally emerge there would be messages posted all over my door by people who needed to see me asap. So it's just easier for me now to make sure my door is kept open during the day and plan to do a lot of work in the late hours when The Mountain is pretty much on stand-down.
But this last week Jack has been showing up like the Ghost of Christmas Past on Christmas Eve -- only he's been showing up at the stroke of six p.m. to drag me out of my office. What he doesn't know is that after he takes me to the cafeteria and then escorts me to my quarters, I just come back here and get in a few more hours' work.
It's almost six so I'd better get things packed up. If I know Jack -- and I think I do -- he'll be by in a few minutes on some pretense or another. This time, though, I'm going to beat him to it. This time I'm taking him out. Time to celebrate.
D. Jackson
***
Part 2 --"I guess you couldn't relate to me any more than I could to you."
*Daniel Jackson*
Retired. Retired. Yesterday we were a team, just like we have been for the last three years, and now Jack is retired, no longer a part of SG-1. No longer apart of the Stargate program.
I've been sitting here in my car for almost ten minutes now, staring at his house. It looks the same as it always does. So did Jack yesterday. He looked the same as always, but it wasn't Jack who stole that Tollan device. And it wasn't Jack who sat there in the briefing room and said all those things about taking what we want if our allies don't want to give it to us. That just wasn't Jack. I know Jack, and I know he'd give his life to protect this planet, but the Jack O'Neill I know wouldn't steal technology from a friendly race or make his team a part of that. So what the hell is going on with him?
After the Tollans finally left -- with their technology -- I rounded up Sam and Teal'c, and we met in my office. Teal'c isn't saying much, but I can see he's really disappointed in Jack. He's given his allegiance to the SGC, but his first loyalty was, and is, to Jack. And Sam, well, Sam really respects Jack; she's told me more than once he's the finest officer she's ever served under, and it's like she's in a state of shock right now. None of us saw this coming. Why not?
Because it doesn’t make any sense, that's why. Damn it, if Jack felt that way about our mission, why didn't we know about it? Why didn't I know about it? I know him better than Teal'c and Sam put together, so if he really felt this way, then I should have known it. And I didn't.
Well, I'm not going to get any answers sitting out here. I might not get any answers in there, either, but I have to try. Jack didn't abandon me when I was in trouble -- and I was in about as much trouble as you can be in when I got myself hooked on that sarcophagus -- or when I've been a pain in the ass -- probably too many times to count -- and I'm not about to just sit by and pretend the last four years never happened. Bottom line is, Jack's my friend regardless of that line of bullshit he spouted off to General Hammond, and I am going to be here for him whether he wants me to or not.
Taking a deep breath, I climb out of the car and walk up the steps to his porch. Another deep breath and I ring the doorbell. After a few moments the door opens, and there stands my friend. Or not. I'd say it was like looking at a stranger, but yet... Oh yes, I remember you. Stone face. Flat eyes. Armor-plated. Haven't seen you in a long time, Colonel. I was kind of hoping you were on a permanent leave of absence. Where is my friend and what have you done with him?
Jack doesn't look particularly surprised to see me, but he doesn't exactly look pleased, either, and he is apparently going to leave the burden of conversation entirely on me. "Hi."
"What do you want?"
Well, what did I expect, really? "I'm not, ah, sure, to tell you the truth. I'm here to talk, I guess."
"So talk." That wasn't an invitation; more like a challenge. He takes a drink from a beer bottle and eyes me like I'm an unwelcome salesman on his front porch.
I can't do this standing here on his porch. We're like two boxers squaring off. If I can just get inside where we've spent so many evenings over a chess game or watching TV... "You got another one of those?" Come on, Jack, just invite me in. Geez, how many of your beers have I drank over the years? Just let me in, and we'll sit down in your living room like we always do -- me on the sofa, you in the chair by the fireplace -- and we'll talk and...
"Yeah."
And he's not going to make this easy. "Feel like sharing?" I ask and try to keep the growing frustration out of my tone.
He gives me a long look. "The beer? Sure." Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing on the porch. With a sigh, I step inside and close the door behind me.
The living room hasn’t changed since I was last here on, what, Friday? Started a game of chess, had a pizza, drank a couple of beers, watched a bad movie on TV, fell asleep on Jack's couch. Why do I keep expecting to see things have changed? Because Jack has changed. Because I'm looking for some sort of explanation. Because I feel like I've somehow ended up in some mixed-up alternate reality where that Jack O'Neill steals from allies and treats me like a stranger.
"So... how you feel about all this?" I ask as I hear him coming out of the kitchen.
"Yes to the beer. No to the feelings." He hands me a bottle without even looking at me as he passes by and goes to the chair by the fireplace.
"That's too bad," I mutter quietly, "because I don't really like beer."
"Stop your worryin'," he says, sinking down into the cushions. "I'm fine."
And that's the first really Jack-like thing he's said to me since I got here. I set the beer carefully on the coffee table beside our unfinished chess game and latch onto that as an opening. "Really? That's funny because I didn't figure you for the early retirement type anymore."
He just shrugs.
Come on, Jack, talk to me. "There's another reason you're angry, isn't there?"
"Oh, here we go. Pop psych 101, right?"
"No." No, Jack, listen to me. "When we were in the briefing, you said something about the Pentagon not giving us the backup we requested." That bothered me when you said it because it seemed to come out of nowhere. "What were you talking about?"
He looks away for a moment then explains, "Hammond and I were planning a secondary SGC base off-world. It was going to serve as a backup in case ours was attacked. I was going to command."
He doesn't meet my gaze during this little speech; when he does look in my direction, he's looking somewhere around my right ear. "And the Pentagon pulled the plug," I surmise. A command off-world? And when were you going to tell us about that. When were you going to tell me? I give myself a quick mental shake. Something just doesn't add up here. Jack pitching a fit because he loses a chance at a desk job? Because he loses the chance to leave SG-1? "So you're acting out... because you're hurt because you didn't get a command." That sounds so ridiculous I can't believe the words actually came out of my mouth.
Apparently Jack thinks so too, and now he looks directly at me. "Gimme a break, Daniel." His tone contains just enough of an undertone of contempt that I feel my lips tighten. "Their denial of the program was just another indication that they're not serious about attaining our goals."
"Which you think is obtaining new weapons and technology."
"Protecting ourselves," he corrects, enunciating each word with special care.
"But isn't our mission also about establishing and maintaining diplomatic relations with other cultures?"
"What's the point if we don't gain anything to help our other interests?"
I feel like I'm debating one of those Pentagon brass-types with briefcases who come by on a regular basis to find out why we haven't brought back any new alien weapons recently. The kind of people Jack O'Neill usually tolerates with gritted teeth and mutterings under his breath. "Well, there's a lot we could learn from people like the Tollan that has nothing to do with technology and weapons."
"Stuff that interests people like you, Daniel," he shoots back in a dismissive voice, "not people like me."
Okay. When did I become 'people like you'?
Jack's looking at me like... just like he did the first time he laid eyes on me. Like I'm not worth his time. "I want to see tangible gains from our efforts and if people like the Tollan don't want to share, we should just take."
I can't believe what I'm hearing. I stare at him, silently begging him to cut the crap, to tell me this is all some kind of sick joke. "You really believe that?"
"Being sweet and nice isn't going to stop three or four Goa'uld mother ships if they decide to come back again," he says flatly. "I'd rather be a thief and alive than honest and dead. I know it's a cliché, but there it is."
"If you really believe that..." Jesus, Jack, you can't believe that! "...I guess I never really knew you at all." I look right at him, right into his eyes, right into eyes that, up until yesterday, held warmth, compassion, understanding, friendship, whenever they turned in my direction. Please, Jack. This is your cue. Tell me what is going on with you!
He cocks his head, something like bitter amusement on his face. "Come on. You're a bright guy. You had to sense some of this." He looks at me expectantly, apparently waiting for confirmation, but I can't even look at him. "Then, no," he says finally. "I guess you couldn't relate to me any more than I could to you."
Couldn't relate to me...? Okay, that's it, Jack. You're going to have to spell it out for me, damn it. You're going to have to look me in the eye and say it. "So, this whole friendship thing we've been working on the last few years...?"
"Apparently not much of a foundation there, huh?"
A bit of a smirk, a tip of that brown bottle, and what I thought was our friendship is dismissed in pretty much the blink of an eye and a swallow of beer.
Well. I guess he told me. Why can't I think of anything to say? What am I supposed to say? You're my friend because I say you're my friend? You're my friend because I need you to be my friend? You're my friend because... What, the last four years were some wacky, wacky dream where you and I didn't support each other, depend on each other, look out for one another, sleep on each other's sofas, didn't get calluses on our butts waiting for the other to wake up in the infirmary after a mission gone bad? That was the dream and this is the reality?
It might as well have been a dream. His eyes tell me there's nothing here for me. I feel... hollow, empty. I want to say something, but there's nothing I can say. I pick up my coat and leave.
***
Part 3 - "Apparently not much of a foundation there, huh?"
*Jack O'Neill*
We started this chess game Friday night, but Daniel was so wasted he ended up crashing on my couch. We said we'd finish it later. I wonder if we will. Wonder if I'll be around to finish it. Wonder if Daniel will even want to. Or, when the dust clears, if I'm still alive, he'll simply say, 'Screw you, Jack O'Neill' and go play on someone else's SG team because, obviously, I don't trust him, and therefore he can't trust me.
Shit. I take a long drink of beer and stare at the chessboard in dislike. This whole operation sucks in oh so many ways. No, I didn't want my team involved in the Asgard's little black op, but I sure didn't want to keep them out of it the way this has been set up.
Set up. Daniel was set up. I had to stand by and watch the guy work practically around the clock getting ready for his presentation to the Tollan High Council, knowing he wasn't going to get the chance to do more than barely open his mouth before I was going to pull the whole team off Tollana. I wouldn't see him for days on end, and I knew he was shut away in his office working his heart out on what he thought was the most important diplomatic mission in Earth's history. I finally couldn't stand it any more and started showing up at his office in the evenings to bully him until he ate some food and then drag him off to his quarters to get some rest. I found out later that he'd sneak back to his office once he was sure I was gone.
It was hard enough sitting in that briefing room, seeing their faces while I was spouting off all that crap to Hammond, knowing Daniel and Carter were doing everything short of lying to keep from dropping me in it; I don't even want to think about how my team's taking this now. Teal'c probably thinks I've lost my mind. And Carter, I guess she's wondering how she could have been so wrong about a commanding officer she's come to respect. And Daniel... I can't even think about it. I can still see the tight baffled/hurt look on his face in the debriefing. At least Teal'c and Carter as disciplined soldiers can be counted on to follow whatever orders Hammond gives them. But Daniel... You can barely count on a sunny-tempered, in-his-element Daniel Jackson to follow orders when you give them. The odds of a pissed-off, suspicious, worried Daniel Jackson following orders when he's just witnessed his best friend turn into someone he doesn't recognize isn't something I want to contemplate.
The doorbell. Two guesses who that is. With a sigh, I gather myself and slowly walk to the door and open it.
It's Daniel. Of course it is. I've schooled my face into a mask -- just remember, he gets involved, he's in danger, so get rid of him as soon as you can -- and just stand here, looking at him as he squints in the sun. Part of me wishes desperately he's just come by to tell me I'm a s.o.b. of the first order and have gotten exactly what I deserved for screwing up Earth's chances of an alliance with the Tollans before storming off. But I know better. This is Daniel. And Daniel has come to talk, to try to understand, to try to help. Because Daniel Jackson is the best friend I've got, and he's not about to write me off based on what he saw and heard yesterday.
But it's my job to make sure he does just that. Hammond and I both have our suspicions about who is behind the intergalactic black bag jobs I'm being sent undercover to investigate. If Daniel doesn't buy my performance here today, if I give him even a hint of a reason to be suspicious, he'll be back or worse, he'll try to start his own investigation. Either way, he'll be in more danger than he can imagine, and I won't be in any position to protect him. So it ends here, now, and I make sure he doesn't come back.
"What do you want?" I keep it short, clipped, impersonal. He's an uninvited stranger standing on my porch. Remember that, O'Neill. Treat him like a stranger.
Daniel's eyes reflect the depth of his confusion and concern but also his determination. "I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I'm here to talk, I guess."
Okay, end it here, O'Neill. "So talk." I take an insolent drink of beer, willing him to give up on this as a bad idea and leave.
But that's not Daniel Jackson's way. "You got another one of those?"
"Yeah." I don't offer any more.
He's practically gritting his teeth with frustration. "Feel like sharing?"
Well, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. "Beer? Sure?" I turn away and walk into the house, leaving him standing there, knowing he'll follow.
Even though I knew this had to happen, I'm certainly not looking forward to it. Only the reminder to myself that this is the only way I can protect Daniel keeps the hard mask on my face as I get him a beer from the kitchen.
"So... how you feeling about all this?"
That's my Danny. Jumps in with both feet. "Yes to the beer. No to the feelings." I hand him the beer without even looking at him as I walk past and drop down into the chair by the fireplace.
"That's too bad because I don’t really like beer," he murmurs as he sits down on the sofa.
"Stop your worryin'. I'm fine." That comes out before I can stop it, but one look at his face tells me he probably didn't sleep any better than I did last night, and I really do wish I could tell him not to worry and have him believe me.
"Really? That's funny because I didn't figure you for the early retirement type anymore."
Ouch. Good one, Daniel. Remind me how far back we go. Remind me just how well we know each other.
"There's another reason you're angry, isn't there?"
"Oh, here we go. Pop psych 101, right?"
There goes the index finger. He's got something, and he's not going to let go of it. " No. When we were in the briefing, you said something about the Pentagon not giving us the backup you requested." Good boy, Daniel. You were supposed to pick up on that. "What were you talking about?"
I pause a moment before answering as if reluctant to give up the information. "Hammond and I were planning a secondary SGC base off-world. It was gong to serve as a backup in case ours was attacked. I was going to command." It's a good cover, but I still can't look him in the eye as I deliver it.
As usual, he's quick putting the pieces together. "And the Pentagon pulled the plug. So you're acting out... because you're hurt because you didn't get a command."
He doesn't buy that for a minute, and I didn't really expect him to, so I move to the next phase and lay it on with a trowel. "Gimme a break, Daniel." His mouth firms at my tone, and I press on. "Their denial of the program was just another indication that they're not serious about attaining our goals."
"Which you think is obtaining the weapons and technology."
"Protecting ourselves," I correct.
Daniel's wearing his earnest look, and he's trying his damnedest to get through to me, to make me see reason. "But isn't our mission also about establishing and maintaining diplomatic relations with other cultures?"
We haven't had this discussion since the earliest days of the SGC. I may have started out as a soldier searching for signs of the Goa'uld and weapons to protect ourselves, but thanks in no small part to Daniel, I'm now also a peaceful explorer who understands the importance of diplomatic relations and building alliances with other cultures. But I'm not that Jack O'Neill here today.
"What's the point if we don't gain anything to help our other interests?"
"Well, there's a lot we could learn from people like the Tollan that has nothing to do with technology and weapons."
Too late I realized I've let this go on too long. Time to squash it. And Daniel. "Stuff that interests people like you, Daniel, not people like me." I see his face go still and push on. "I want to see tangible gains from our efforts, and if people like the Tollan don't want to share, we should just take."
Daniel's staring at me like he's never seen me before. The truth is, he hasn't seen this me in a very long time, and maybe he's forgotten this Jack O'Neill ever existed. I'd almost forgotten it myself.
"You really believe that." He's so shocked he can hardly get the words out, and I can hardly stand to see the bleak disappointment in his eyes.
"Being sweet and nice isn't going to stop three or four Goa'uld mother ships if they decide to come back again. I'd rather be a thief and alive than honest and dead. I know it's a cliché, but there it is."
"If you really believe that... I guess I never really knew you at all."
Bingo, Danny. I try to look amused. "Come on. You're a bright guy. You had to sense some of this." And while I'm at it why not rub your face in it, right? Okay, I can't take much more of this, and I know you can't either, so let's end this and then for cryin' out loud, Daniel, get the hell out of here and stay away until this is over, and then I swear I will explain everything to you. "Then, no, I guess you couldn't relate to me any more than I could to you."
That should have sent anyone away, should have hammered in the last nail of the coffin of our friendship. But Daniel isn't anyone, and he can't quite give up yet. He has to give it one more try... "So this whole... this whole friendship thing we've been working on the last few years...?"
I don't even let myself think about it. "Apparently not much of a foundation there, huh?" I add a smirk, take a drink of beer, and dismiss our friendship, forcing myself to ignore the feeling of emptiness spreading through me.
His face is carefully bank, but I see more than I want to in those expressive eyes. Without a word, he picks up his coat and leaves.
Congratulations, O'Neill. I think you've made sure he won't be back.
***
Part 4 - "Since I'm a civilian here I'm probably the only one who can say this."
*Samantha Carter*
I don't think I've ever seen Daniel so angry. I don't know where it's coming from, but it must be someplace deep. It seems to be welling up from inside and filling every part of him. But it's more than anger. I've seen Daniel angry before, and this is different. This is how he acted after he and the colonel had their... disagreement about the existence of the Harsisis child. I don't know what was said between them because they were behind closed doors for a very long time, but I did see the after-effects. For weeks the colonel walked around base with a perpetual scowl that caused airmen to duck whenever he headed their way; and Daniel... Daniel was brittle, all sharp edges, someone you didn't want to be around. A combination of anger and hurt. His anger born of grief and the hurt because the one person he counted on to take him on faith, didn't.
I don't know what caused the colonel to change his mind or how he told Daniel he did believe him about the child, but we all saw the results almost immediately. The colonel was back to making wisecracks and bantering with Daniel on missions, and Daniel was back to being Daniel. There was a new peace between them, too, and a little something extra that hadn't been there before. If I had to give it a name, I'd say it was respect. But I could see from the first time I met Daniel the measure of respect he had for the colonel, and I happen to know the colonel had the highest respect for Daniel. Maybe the difference was, he started to show it more, and I could see Daniel's confidence growing because of it.
And now this had to happen.
"He was going to leave us, Sam." Daniel's voice is tight, and he's performing an angry tattoo on his desk with a pencil as he spits out what he learned from the colonel. "He was leaving SG-1 to take command of an off-world SGC. Can you believe that? He was ready to just walk off and leave us without even, even --" He jabs the pencil onto the desk so hard the point snaps.
Asking our permission? I supply silently. I sigh and rub my eyes wearily. As much as I hate losing the colonel as a commanding officer -- especially this way -- there's a part of me that understands why he would want to leave a team command to accept a base command. The military is his career as it is mine. It would have been a promotion. I can understand that, and so should Daniel. A promotion is a promotion whether it's in the military or civilian life, and I just can't see Daniel being angry or hurt about the colonel receiving well-deserved recognition for his experience and skills. Unless it wasn't quite presented that way to Daniel. Unless the colonel said something... The colonel said a lot of things at the debriefing that none of us expected, and I have a feeling he must have said some things in private that Daniel didn't expect, either.
I want to ask him about that, but I don't think right now he'd appreciate what he might see as my interference. Whatever happened between Daniel and the colonel is private, and if Daniel had wanted me to know, he would have told me. I just wish I knew how to help him because he really does look like he's lost his best friend.
I clear my throat. "We need to get going, Daniel. General Hammond --"
"Right. General Hammond." The pencil hits the top of the desk and bounces off onto the floor. "By all means, let's not keep the general waiting."
He gets to his feet and stalks out of his office, leaving me to sigh and trail after him.
***
Teal'c doesn't look any happier than Daniel. "For what purpose were we summoned?" he asks flatly as he strides up to join us.
"Well, my guess is we're getting our fourth."
I can't read Daniel's mood at all. He's got his hands in his pockets in what might look like a casual stance, but I can almost feel the anger and tension radiating from him. "Who do you think it'll be?" I ask, more to distract him than anything else.
To my surprise, he has an answer. "Well, we'll probably get someone like Ferretti, and you'll get command."
Oh, Daniel, wishful thinking. You've known Ferretti as long as you've known the colonel, and that might make it easier for you, but that isn't how the military works. "Oooh... I don't know about that. They'll probably go with someone higher than Major."
As if on cue, General Hammond descends the stairs, and I see a pair of camouflage clad legs come into view. Oh no...oh, I wasn't expecting this.
The general nods at us as he and Colonel Makepeace join us. "As you were." His voice military brisk, he continues, "Since SG-1 is considered the flagship unit, it falls on me to assure that you have the strongest possible leadership. Therefore, I am reassigning the most senior officer we have in the field as your new commanding officer. Colonel Makepeace will be joining SG-1 immediately. I hope you'll make him feel welcome."
Before anyone can say anything, Daniel has that index finger in the air and is stepping forward. "Um, Sir, I don't want to seem out of line here, but, since I'm a civilian here I'm probably the only one who can say this."
'Since I'm a civilian here?' Daniel, I haven't heard those words out your month since your earliest days here.
"Spit it out, Doctor," the general says tersely. He's obviously expecting trouble, too.
"Well, no offense, but doesn't Major Carter deserve to take charge of SG-1?"
Oh, God... I can feel my face getting hot. If the general or Colonel Makepeace think I put Daniel up to this...
"Major Carter has an exemplary record on the team as recognized by her recent promotion to major," the General says, giving me a level look. "But major is a far cry from Colonel."
"I understand, General." Daniel, I don't care how angry you are, how dare you put me in this position?
But Daniel's not finished yet. "I'm sorry, I don't." He gives me a look, then returns his attention to the general. "What difference does it make what title she has? The point is..."
"It's all right, Daniel, really." Drop it, Daniel, please. Don't you see what you're doing? You're undermining Colonel Makepeace... and, of course, that's exactly what you want to do, isn't it?
As far as the general is concerned, this meeting is over. "Dismissed." He leaves us alone with our new commanding officer.
The colonel steps up and looks at us each. "I'm proud to join you folks. I hope you can learn to trust my command as much as you did Colonel O'Neill's."
"I'm sure we will, sir," I say quietly. Be a good soldier, Sam. Makepeace is your new C.O., so just suck it up and do your job.
Daniel isn't quite meeting the colonel's gaze, but there's an insincere smile on his face. "I never really trusted Jack's command..."
He's baiting Makepeace. I don't believe it, he's baiting Makepeace. Daniel, stop it. This is not a man you play mind games with. This isn't Jack O'Neill. He is not going to cut you any slack. He does not call you friend; he will not take you to hockey games or let you crash on his sofa after you've had too many beers. He doesn't have the history with you Colonel O'Neill had. You are a civilian scientist to him and someone under his command, nothing more. Don't give him a reason to start distrusting you right off the bat.
"...but I'm open."
Oh, yes, Daniel, you're making it perfectly clear just how 'open' you are. Makepeace is no fool; he's picked up on every signal you've thrown out.
"That's good." Makepeace's tone is congenial; he isn't giving anything away. "Then I'll see you at our first briefing."
Teal'c turns and walks away without a word. The colonel looks at Daniel and me for a moment, then he leaves as well. Daniel turns to me, as if to say something, but I abruptly turn away and head back to the solitude of my lab. I can't deal with Daniel's anger right now.
***
I never thought I would say this about Daniel, but he is acting like a complete jerk. I know he's angry, and I know he's hurt, but if he doesn't stop throwing his 'civilian status' in Colonel Makepeace's face, I'm afraid the colonel is going to find a way to make him regret it. Well, not while Teal'c's around, that's for sure, and Teal'c has been like Daniel's shadow on every mission we've been on with Makepeace. He doesn't trust the colonel where Daniel's safety is concerned... and to tell the truth, I'm not sure I do either.
I can't blame Daniel for feeling like the earth has been pulled out from under his feet. All of us on the team have come to think of the others as family. But I think Daniel and Colonel O'Neill felt that even more strongly. After all, I do have my father and my brother and his family, and Teal'c has his wife and son. The colonel and Daniel don't have anyone else, and we all formed a little family unit that they particularly embraced. The colonel was the paternal head of the family and Daniel was... well, he's the too-smart-for-his-own-good kid brother we all look out for. With Colonel O'Neill gone, we're all feeling a little disoriented and unsettled.
Colonel Makepeace has a different style than Colonel O'Neill. There aren't any jokes or wisecracks on Makepeace's missions. There's no easy banter between him and Daniel, certainly no conversation between him and Teal'c. Makepeace doesn't quite know what to make of Teal'c, so he pretty much ignores him which is just as well because Teal'c is totally ignoring anything Makepeace says. And Daniel is doing his best to piss off Makepeace at any and every opportunity. If Makepeace orders us to go North, Daniel argues for South -- at length. He doesn’t need a reason to argue, he just argues. Daniel occasionally had a habit of wandering away from the group if he saw something that caught his interest. Colonel O'Neill pretty much put a stop to that by judicious use of the coms; he discovered that the sound of your commanding officer's voice blasting through your earpiece was a pretty good deterrent to wandering too far. Makepeace might have discovered that himself if Daniel hadn't started simply removing his earpiece and tucking it away before going off in his chosen direction with Teal'c right behind him.
But what really worries me is that SG-1 is no longer functioning like a team. Even in our earliest days together when we didn't know each other inside out, we were more a cohesive unit than we are now. So far the missions we've been on with Makepeace have been strictly scientific forays to uninhabited planets to gather samples. I think General Hammond is going to be very cautious about our missions until we prove ourselves. At this point, I don't know how long that's going to take. But I am afraid if we don't shape up soon, the general is going to decide to reassign all of us to other teams. I think if I could just get through to Daniel, to persuade him to give Colonel Makepeace a chance, then Teal'c would follow his lead. As it is -- Oh, hell's bells. Here they go again.
"Doctor Jackson, when I give an order I expect it to be obeyed -- not just when you choose to obey but every goddamned time! Is that clear?"
Oh, God, they're toe-to-toe. Makepeace is making like the drill sergeant from hell, and Daniel has his arms wrapped around his chest, giving him the same look he gave Apophis on Netu. I swear, I don't know how the colonel is keeping himself from wiping that insolent look from Daniel's face. Yes, I do. Teal'c is looming over Daniel's shoulder like an avenging angel, silently daring Makepeace to try something.
What's happened to us?
"This was a scientific mission, Colonel," Daniel is saying coolly. "Archaeological research. That puts it under my province."
"You are under my command, mister."
"Doctor," Daniel corrects, with just the hint of an insincere smile, "Colonel. And as I'm a civilian, I can't really be said to be 'under your command.'"
If anything, Makepeace draws himself up even straighter. I've stopped counting the number of times Daniel has 'reminded' Makepeace he's a civilian. "Colonel O'Neill may have let you get away with that crap, Doctor, but I'm not Colonel O'Neill, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we all learn to get along."
Although he doesn't say it, the expression on Daniel's face clearly states he isn't interested in getting along.
Makepeace sees it as clearly as I do, and he turns abruptly away and heads for the DHD. "Get your gear," he barks. "Major, dial us home."
"I'm not finished here yet," Daniel calls out stubbornly.
"Yes, you are," Makepeace fires back without turning.
Daniel opens his mouth to say something, then looks at me and closes it. There have been plenty of times when I have backed up Daniel with Colonel O'Neill because on those times Daniel has always had a very good reason for what he was saying and doing. But there's no good reason for how he's acting now. He's just taking his anger out on Colonel Makepeace, and while I'm not thrilled with Makepeace as a C.O., Daniel's behavior is hurting the team, and I won't back him on that.
He seems to read my expression well enough and gives me a tight little smile, then turns and gets his gear. Teal'c and I exchange a weary look, then I head for the DHD.
Like it or not, Daniel and I are having a talk once we're back on Earth.
***
"Sam...Teal'c."
Daniel is definitely surprised to see us when he opens his door. He skipped out of the SGC as soon as we got through the -- very brief -- debriefing, but Daniel isn't a tough guy to track down. If he's not on base, he's in his apartment -- we used to be able to add the colonel's house to the list, but I think that option is pretty much gone now. The only surprise was that Teal'c asked to come with me; apparently he's worried about Daniel's behavior, too, but hasn't felt it was his place to approach him about it. Luckily, I don't have any such reservations. Knowing Daniel's eating habits when he's upset or involved in his work, we stopped to pick up some Chinese, then drove directly to his place.
"Can we come in?" I hold up two bags with a smile. "We brought food."
"Um, yeah, sure.". He's barefoot, dressed in old comfortable sweats, and he steps back out of the way, waving us inside with an embarrassed little grin. "Sorry, wasn't expecting company."
"We're not company, Daniel," I remind him as we move past him.
I hear his sigh as he closes the door behind us. "Yeah, I know."
As we set up the impromptu meal on his coffee table in the living room he asks casually, "So what brings you guys over with food offerings?"
Before I can say something about it being a while since we'd all had an evening together, Teal'c states, "We are concerned about your recent behavior, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel freezes in the act of removing a carton of shrimp lo mein from its bag. "And what recent behavior would that be, Teal'c?" he asks with enough bite in his tone to make me shoot him a quelling look.
"Knock it off, Daniel," I say firmly. "You know what we're talking about." When he continues to stare at the bag in his hand and says nothing, I lay a hand on his arm. "We're worried about you."
That makes him look up. "Worried about me? Why?"
"You have been most reckless on our recent missions," Teal'c replies. "You have ignored Colonel Makepeace's orders --"
"Our 'missions' have been to uninhabited planets, Teal'c," Daniel interrupts impatiently. "There hasn't been any danger."
"You do not know that," Teal'c says imperturbably. "We have encountered many planets in the past that appeared safe from our reports that have proven to be dangerous."
Daniel has no answer to that because he knows Teal'c is right. Setting the box of food onto the table, he sags back into the sofa with a sigh. "I know. And I'm sorry." He looks at each one of us, and for the first time in a week I see my friend, not some angry, brittle stranger. "It was wrong of me to put you two in the middle. Sam, I know Makepeace is your commanding officer --"
"He's your commanding officer, too, Daniel," I point out.
"Sam, if Jack wasn't my commanding officer then Makepeace sure as hell isn't."
"Colonel O'Neill was your C.O.," I remind him, striving for patience.
Daniel opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and shuts his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he offers me a rueful smile. "Tell you what, Sam. I won't hold it against you that you're career Air Force if you promise not to hold it against me that I'm a career civilian. Deal?"
Ever the diplomat, that's Daniel's way of telling me there's no way we're going to agree on this issue, so we should just drop it. In Daniel's defense, I'm sure he always thought of Colonel O'Neill as his friend first and then maybe as team leader second. I really doubt he ever thought of the colonel in terms of being his 'commanding officer'. And that was fine as long as they both understood that. But that isn't going to cut it with Makepeace.
I take a moment to marshal my thoughts, then say tentatively, "I know you don't like Colonel Makepeace, Daniel, but it would help the team if you tried to get along with him."
"I don’t have to get along with him to do my job, Sam. Besides, what's he going to do, kick me off SG-1?"
"He could," I shoot back. "He could recommend to General Hammond that due to your attitude you're more a liability than an asset to SG-1, and you could be transferred to another team or stood down and moved into a consultant position. Is that what you want, Daniel?"
"He wouldn't --" Daniel breaks off and stares at me. Obviously, he hadn't considered this possibility; at least I got him to start thinking.
Teal'c is sitting very straight in his chair. "If Daniel Jackson is removed from SG-1, then I too shall request to join whatever team he is assigned to," he announces firmly.
"Hold on, hold on." Daniel raises a hand and gives me a very straight look. "No one is transferring me off SG-1. I get the message, Sam."
I nod. "Good." I lean forward, meeting his gaze. "We're still a team, Daniel. I don't want to lose that."
"You won't," he promises. "We won't."
"You are still angry, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c observes quietly.
Daniel's lips press together, and I catch a glimpse of the bleakness in his eyes before he can look down. "Yes, I am, Teal'c."
"Who is it you are angry with? Colonel Makepeace for having been given the command of SG-1 or O'Neill for having left it?"
Leave it to Teal'c to cut right to the heart of the matter. No beating around the proverbial bush for him. The silence stretches on for so long I'm not sure we're ever going to get an answer. But finally Daniel looks up, his face composed. "Myself," he says flatly, "for being so wrong."
I don't have to ask what he's talking about, and again I ache to ask him what happened between him and the colonel; this is more hurt than anger, a bewildered sense of betrayal. And I can't believe this is all due to the comments the colonel made at the debriefing no matter how repugnant they were to us. But before I can screw up the courage to broach a question, Daniel jumps to his feet.
"I've got some beer in the fridge. Jack brought it the last time he was here, but since I guess he won't be drinking it, we might as well."
And with that, he quickly exits, leaving Teal'c and I to stare at each other in silent commiseration.
***
Part 5 - "So...just to clarify..."
*Jack O'Neill*
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to announce that you are all under arrest for high crimes against the United States and its allies."
I sneak a look at Carter and Daniel and see two confused -- and wary -- faces. Oh, it won't take them long to put this together, and then the fun will really start. High Chancellor Trevel and her assistant enter the Gate Room and stop beside Carter and Daniel, and I can see Daniel's eyes flicking between them and me.
"You really blew it, O'Neill," Makepeace says, disgusted.
"Oh, I think it came off quite nicely, don't you, General?"
Hammond is a very happy general right now. "Yes, I do."
Makepeace is glaring at me. "You have no idea how high up this goes. You've pissed off the wrong people."
Like that's something new. "Like the Tollan, Tok'ra, Asgard, Nox, those folks?"
Makepeace's words are passionate -- and eerily familiar. "They refuse to give us the things we need to defend ourselves against the Goa'uld."
"We don't need their stuff, Makepeace. We do need them." God, it feels good to finally get to say that.
Hammond orders: "Get them out of here," and finally the Gate Room clears, leaving us with the Tollan contingent and my team.
A familiar index finger makes an appearance. "So...just to clarify..." Hammond and I look at each other; well, we both knew it was coming. "This whole past week, beginning with the appeal we made on Tollana, in which I did a lot of hard work, by the way... I take it that was all a scam?"
Hammond fields that one. "Within the last two weeks the Asgard and the Tollan approached us independently of each other with evidence that we were stealing technology from them."
Carter frowns. "We? The SGC?"
"Yes," Hammond confirms. "The Asgard, the Tollan, and the Nox were going to sever all ties with us. But we convinced them the theft must be the action of a rogue group from outside the SGC."
You gotta give Chancellor Trevel credit; she has a pretty good idea how hard Daniel must have worked on that presentation, and she looks at him when she says, "We insisted that you apprehend them yourselves." He doesn't look impressed with that information, and she returns her attention to me. "You have now regained our trust."
You go, Chancellor. I need all the back-up I can get. Now, if I can just regain the trust of my team...
Carter says slowly, "So you set that whole thing up on Tollana in the hopes that the mole would think you were one of them and approach you."
Bingo, Carter.
And now Daniel's looking right at me for the first time since I got back. "And you didn't trust us to help."
Oh, ouch. Good aim, Daniel.
Hammond explains, "We wanted to assure that your reaction to the colonel's behavior was as it should be. And the Asgard insisted that Colonel O'Neill be the only one involved."
Now, see, that seems like a perfectly reasonable explanation to me, but I can see immediately it cuts no ice with Daniel. 'Pissed off' doesn't begin to describe the look on his face. Maybe 'pissed off to the power of ten'. Carter could probably do the math on that one. That might come close.
I go for the light moment. "They like me," I shrug, almost managing a grin. Of course, right now the Tollans might be the only ones in the room who do like me.
Hammond turns to Chancellor Trevel with a gracious, "And now, will you come with me, your Eminence," and quickly escorts her out of the room, leaving me alone with my team. Thanks, George.
Three pairs of eyes turn my way. Okay, put on that smile, O'Neill. You can do this. I throw out my arms. "I'm back."
As I walk over to join my team, it doesn't escape my notice that no one is exactly jumping for joy or reaching out to shake my hand. At last Carter offers a subdued smile, "It's good to have you back, sir."
From behind Daniel, Teal'c rumbles an unenthusiastic, "Indeed."
"Thank you." Okay, definitely not jumping for joy, but at least they're speaking to me. Well, two of them anyhow. Of course, I didn't have to make it personal with them. They weren't the ones who came to my house in the name of friendship to try to understand what I was doing, to try to talk to me and help me. I had to make it personal with Daniel, and standing here looking at him, I wonder if he's going to forgive me for that. Well, whatever I'm going to do, I'd better start doing it now.
"Um...Daniel." I make a little motion with my hand, not sure if he's going to follow or not, but he makes a little noncommittal murmur and does follow me as I lead him away from the others. "That stuff I was talkin' about at my house? Um, the place was bugged, I had to keep up the act."
"Yeah, I...I understand."
Okay, but make sure you understand this: "Obviously the whole friendship thing, the foundation, it's all solid..." Or at least it was.
"Oh, obviously..." He's actually shooting glances at the ceiling as we walk along to avoid looking at me. "You don't have to..."
"I feel kind of..." Not quite sure how to finish that statement, I switch to, "I do appreciate that you were the one to come and see if I was okay." It feels good to tell him that; I'm not sure I can ever really tell him what that meant to me. To tell the truth, as close as we were, I think I would have been damn near devastated if he hadn't come. By now, I'm feeling pretty good about how this is going. Daniel hasn't hit me or walked off in a huff, he seems to be listening and understanding, and for the first time, I think we're going to get through this okay. "That...that means something," I tell him sincerely.
He slows to a stop. "Ahhh...actually, it doesn't."
I stop, too, confused. "Huh?"
Daniel turns and gives Carter and Teal'c a look. "Um...we drew straws."
Straws? And that would mean...?
He looks me straight in the eye. "I lost." And then he turns and saunters away.
Carter gives me a little shrug, and she follows Daniel. Teal'c doesn't even deign to look at me; he just pauses for a moment in front of me, then moves on, leaving me standing here alone in the corridor.
Drew straws, huh? Oh yeah. I don't need to call the psychic hotline to know there is a lot of groveling in my immediate future...
***
Okay, there's groveling, and then there's groveling. I've given him three days to cool down, not that I had much choice in the matter. No matter where I was at the SGC over the last three days, Daniel wasn't. I'm pretty sure he made a point of it. But that's okay. I didn't want to hold this conversation at base anyhow or at my place. I'm afraid the memories of his last visit there might still be a little raw. That's why I'm standing outside his apartment at zero seven hundred with three bags of cookies, breakfast from McDonalds, and the biggest cup of Starbucks coffee money can buy. Like I said, there's groveling, and there's groveling.
To further increase my odds of forgiveness, I've chosen a Sunday morning and an hour when Daniel is guaranteed to still be in bed. Dannyboy is not a morning person, and if I can catch him at a time when he's still prying his eyes open and doesn't yet have his mind fully in gear, I just might have a chance of talking to him and getting everything said before he starts taking chunks out of me. At least that's the plan.
Both hands otherwise occupied, I use an elbow to lean on the doorbell, prepared to wait a good five minutes before the sound permeates his sleeping brain, and he manages to stumble to the door. Imagine my surprise when it's flung open in less than fifteen seconds. Not only awake but dressed. Unshaven, hair mussed where it looks like he's run his hands through it a few times, eyes a little red-rimmed but definitely alert. A peek over his shoulder confirms my suspicion: the table is strewn with books and papers and the laptop is running. Shit! He's pulled an all-nighter. Instead of a sleepy, dopey, and hopefully forgiving Daniel Jackson I've got myself a wide-awake, over-tired, brain-fully-in-gear Daniel Jackson who looks less than thrilled to see me in his doorway bearing gifts.
"Jack. What're you doing here?"
Not the welcome I was hoping for, but pretty much the one I expected. I go with the one thing guaranteed to buy me entrance. I hold out the Starbucks. "Coffee," I say brightly.
I see his nostrils twitch as the aroma reaches him. He licks his lips, gives me a highly suspicious look, then crumbles like rotten wood. "You might as well come in," he invites grudgingly, and steps aside, plucking the cup from my fingers as I pass by.
"Good morning to you too," I murmur as I walk into the living room. It's not just the table filled with books. Now I can see the sofa and coffee table have their share as well. "You been at this all night?" I ask, as I clear space on the coffee table for the McDonalds bags.
Daniel is taking a deep drink of coffee, a look of absolute bliss on his face as he sinks down into a chair. The expression immediately disappears when I ask the question. "I got a little behind in my work," he says pointedly and doesn't elaborate.
Of course he doesn't have to explain. He fell behind in his work because Hammond and I had him working on the fake Tollan presentation. The fake, totally unnecessary presentation that took him away from the real work that was already piled high and waiting for him. Thank you, Daniel, for reminding me I'm not here to share a friendly Sunday breakfast with you.
Wincing at the reminder, I pull out an Egg McMuffin and offer it to him. Daniel isn't much of a breakfast person, but he will eat Egg McMuffins. After a brief hesitation -- just to let me know he isn't falling for this for one minute -- he accepts it with a mumbled thanks. I surreptitiously push the three bags of cookies to one side to save them for later. No point in giving away everything at once. Soften him up with coffee and breakfast and hold the cookies back in case I need reinforcements.
For a few minutes we eat in silence. From the way Daniel is tearing into that sandwich, he's been taking typically good care of himself and has probably been living on coffee and candy bars while he's been trying to catch up on his work. When he finishes the first, I silently pull out a second sandwich from the bag and hand it over. He shoots me a strange look but accepts it and resumes eating.
When he finally finishes both Egg McMuffins, a helping of hash browns and the cheese danish, and is sucking the last drop out of the Starbucks cup, I clear my throat. "Daniel, I came over here to tell you everything about the Asgard operation, and when I'm done you can ask me anything you want. All I ask is that you hear me out, okay?"
He takes a moment to think about that, then sets the empty cup on the coffee table and sits back in his chair, arms crossed. "Okay."
Unfortunately, that was more of a challenge than an agreement. Taking a deep breath, I tell him everything from the beginning, how the Asgard contacted us, my meeting with them, their threats to cut off diplomatic ties, their stipulations regarding the operation, my concerns from the beginning, the suspicions Hammond and I shared. I don't leave out anything. When I finally finish, I spread my hands. "You can ask me anything, Daniel. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
Daniel had been focusing on the empty food wrappings on the table the entire time I was talking. Now he looks up, his blue eyes boring into mine. "Why did you feel you couldn't trust me with the truth at the beginning?"
I didn't need the psychic hotline to predict that would be the first question either. "Daniel, it didn't have anything to do with trust," I tell him wearily. "It had to do with safety -- yours and mine. Hammond and I knew as soon as I stole that device on Tollana the whole team would be under surveillance. We knew we had a mole in the SGC. If your reactions hadn't been exactly right, if there was the slightest suspicion any of that was faked, we would have all been in danger."
"I see." Daniel cocks his head to one side, his lips pressed together. "Well, was my reaction everything you'd hoped for, Jack?"
I drop my head onto my chest. Yes, this was going just about as well as I'd expected. "For cryin' out loud, Daniel," I say through clenched teeth, "do you think I enjoyed that? You think I liked spouting out all that crap in the briefing room, knowing what you and Carter and Teal'c were going to think of me?" I raise my head and level a straight look at him. "And do you honestly think I enjoyed sitting in my living room lying to your face and telling you our friendship didn't mean squat?"
He studies me for a moment, and I see the first signs of a thaw in his expression. "No," he says slowly, "I don't suppose you did." Just as I was beginning to think I was making some headway, he adds, "So why did you?"
I rub my eyes, thinking -- not for the first time -- that maintaining a friendship with Daniel is one of those 'life challenges' that you either commit yourself to or you don't. Daniel is a challenge, but he is also a worthwhile one, and I know in the deepest part of me if I blow this now and I lose his friendship, it really is pretty much going to break my heart. "Because I knew," I sigh, "if I didn't get you distracted from the facts damn quick, you'd keep pushing. Daniel, you were always the loose cannon, the one Hammond and I were worried about. I knew Carter and Teal'c would follow orders, but as you've been so quick to point out to everyone over the last week, you're a civilian -- and, you're my friend. And you're not the type of person who gives up on a friend in trouble." I pause to study his face, but he's giving nothing away. "I swear, Daniel, all I wanted to do was get you out of my house without you saying anything that could be taken as you knowing something. The people we were dealing with were dangerous, and if they thought we were trying to set them up and you were involved, you would have been their number one target." I knew the chance I was taking when I had said those things to Daniel, but if it came down to the risk of losing his friendship or Daniel losing his life, there really was no choice.
"It's been a long time since you had to do something like that, hasn't it?" he asks. When I raise my eyebrows in inquiry, he continues, "Going on a mission on your own like that. You're used to working with a team. Used to having someone back you up."
I manage a wry smile. "Yeah, long time. Can't say I enjoyed it, but the stakes were too high for me to turn down the Asgard. We were talking about some pretty important allies ready to cut us loose."
"Yeah." He doesn't say anything else for a long time and just when I'm about ready to launch into my last-ditch appeal for forgiveness, he nods toward the three bags I have by my side. "Are those cookies in there?"
I shoot him a sharp look, but his expression is all innocence. For the first time, though, I see a hint of warmth in his eyes or at least he's not looking straight through me like he has been up to now. I pluck out the bag in the middle. "Um, those chocolate walnut ones you like." I place it carefully on the table in front of him, then pick up the other two. "And these two were chocolate-chocolate-something-or-other." I shrug, not able to remember what the combinations were. "They just looked like something you would like." And I add those two bags to the cookie offering.
Daniel studies the coffee table littered with the remnants of the McDonalds breakfast, Starbucks coffee and now three bags of cookies and asks, "Is this it?"
"What?"
"Well, Jack, you flush our friendship down the toilet and then you come over here with an Egg McMuffin, a cup of coffee and some cookies, and you think that's enough to make up for all that? You think I'm that easy?"
For a moment my heart sinks, then I see the flicker of a smile he quickly lowers his head to hide, and my heart zips back up to where it belongs. Okay. This is good. This is really good. This is... almost normal. "Hey, that was Starbucks coffee, Daniel," I point out. "You know how far I have to go out of my way to get that stuff?"
He considers that. "A good long way," he agrees.
"Damn straight." I look him right in the eye and hope he gets the message. "I don't do that for just anyone." Just people who mean a helluva lot to me.
He nods thoughtfully, then says rather briskly, "Thanks for the breakfast and the coffee and the cookies, Jack. But, as you can see, I've still got a lot of work to do, so..."
"So you'd like me to leave?" I'm still not sure how much we've settled here, and I’m a little reluctant to go until I know for sure.
"Well, unless you plan to help me translate the tablets SG-4 brought back from --"
"Never mind, never mind," I interrupt, getting quickly to my feet as I bow to the inevitable. "I think we both know the answer to that one."
He trails behind me as I head for the door, but as I step outside, I turn back because I can't leave here until I know. "Daniel...you and me..." I wave a hand between us. "Are we okay? I mean, tell me if we're not, all right? Because I --"
"We're okay, Jack." He says it quietly, and he's meeting my gaze, his eyes serious if still a little cautious. It's going to take some time before we're back to where we were, I know that, but at least I know we're on our way.
"Good," I say, and I mean that. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."
He smiles. It's not a big smile, but it goes a long way toward erasing some of the strain I saw when I first came here. "See you tomorrow," he agrees and closes the door.
As I walk back to my car, it occurs to me that it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for me to make a daily detour to the local Starbucks before reporting to base each morning, at least for a week or so.
***
Part 6 - Epilog
Journal Entry, Earth
It's good to be back to normal. Or at least what passes for normal around here. Jack and I have finally stopped being 'careful' around each other, and that feels... incredibly good. It took me a while to work through my anger, but after taking the time to put myself in Jack's place, I wonder if I would have done any different if I were trying to protect him or Sam or Teal'c. (Of course, I also wonder if I would have had the courage.) The stakes were high all the way around, and Jack did what he had to in order to protect Earth and to try to protect his team. I can accept that now. In fact, I don't know why that should have surprised me in the least: Jack has dedicated his adult life to serving his country, and that loyalty extended to the whole planet when the Stargate opened; and as for protecting his team, he's proven over and over again that he will do whatever it takes to keep us safe.
But what still stings a little is that Jack knew exactly what buttons to push where I'm concerned. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to hurt me so bad I stopped thinking and started feeling, which is exactly what he was aiming for. The week Jack was 'retired' and I was nursing my hurt and anger was one of the most dismal of my life. I was just so used to Jack being there that I found myself unconsciously looking for him, or turning to talk to him, or heading off for his office in search of a cup of coffee or a little company. But it was more than his companionship I missed. I missed that comforting feeling of total trust I had in Jack, of knowing no matter what else in the world might go haywire, Jack wouldn't change -- at least, not the important things about Jack. His integrity, his honor, his honesty, his courage. I came to trust him in a way I've never been able to trust anyone else, and he came very close to destroying that.
I could resent that, if not for the fact that over the last few days I've seen how really worried Jack is he might have done just that. I've known for a long time how important Jack's friendship is to me; I guess I just hadn't realized how important my friendship is to him. Maybe we both learned something from this.
Anyhow, I think it's finally behind us because on our mission today things fell back into place as if that week had never happened. And okay, maybe I've got a new appreciation for Jack as -- I still can't say 'commanding officer' -- team leader after butting heads with Makepeace, and maybe Jack did cave in a little too easily and allow us to stay longer than scheduled when we stumbled across some pictographs I asked -- only once and without much hope -- to spend more time checking out. I think we both know that won't last. But like the Starbucks coffee I find on my desk every morning, I plan to enjoy it while it does.
D. Jackson
© July 15, 2000 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.