Daniel Jackson was idly playing with an appetizer skewer, looking at it with slightly blood-shot eyes and concentrating for all he was worth. ‘When did sticking a piece of fruit with one of these toothpick-thingys become so hard?’ He snorted lightly to himself in response. He was beginning to sound like Jack… he had said "toothpick-thingys"…said or thought?… it was beginning to get confusing. Maybe he should have taken a nap earlier, that was probably it, not enough sleep. He opened his eyes very wide hoping that would help his focus. It didn’t.
They were all over at the General’s for his annual end-of-the-summer barbecue. All of SG-1 and most of the SGC had shown up. Daniel, still being on medical restriction since P3R636, had not felt much like socializing so he had grabbed something to eat and had found a semi-quiet corner to hide in. He would have just skipped the party altogether but the General had made it clear that this was a command performance, so here he was…
Now an hour or so later, he felt more than a bit depressed. He felt downright numb. He was sitting there playing with the fruit when a large shadow fell across his lap. Daniel looked up and into the face of his friend, team leader, and sometimes protector Jack O’Neill.
‘Oh, damn!’ thought Daniel. He really didn’t want to face anyone right now… especially not any of the rest of SG-1. How could they even stand to be in the same room with him? He had let them down so badly. He remembered what he had been like when they first returned… so proud of himself, so cocky, so sure he’d saved the day… so high. Internally Daniel let out a little sigh. Yeah, some saving, he had almost gotten them all killed, not to mention the job he did on himself. ‘Yeah, I’m really something alright… a real ass.’
Daniel gave a somewhat resigned smile and attempted at least to be friendly. Jack deserved that… Hell, he deserved much more than that, more than Daniel would be able to give.
"Hi Jack," he said focusing on the larger man.
O’Neill looked down at his teammate, not sure that he liked what he saw. He took in Daniel’s slowed reactions and clumsy motions. Jack steadied himself and asked in a cautious controlled voice…
"Daniel?… Have you been drinking?"
His voice carried that "I-don’t-really-want-to-believe-what-I’m-seeing,-please-tell-me-I’m-wrong" sound to it.
"No, Jack… Janet said I wasn’t allowed… I haven’t had even one beer." said the archeologist, his baritone voice taking on a soft child-like tone. His eyes were not tracking the movement in the surrounding yard but seemed to be taking on a life of their own.
‘Uh, right’ thought Jack. He began to scan the area around his friend. He didn’t see any beer bottles, and yet, it was obvious that Daniel was intoxicated. What was even more confusing was that Daniel honestly believed he hadn’t been drinking. His voice carried that sincerity that usually signaled that the young man believed what he was saying completely, without even a touch of doubt.
Could he be lying? O’Neill had to consider the possibility. After all, Daniel hadn’t exactly been himself for the last week or so, ever since his run in with the "evil sarcophagus" and the "princess-from-hell".
Okay maybe that was a bit harsh. But for O’Neill it would be a while before he would be able to forgive the woman for what she did to them, and more importantly for what she did to Daniel.
Daniel told him that Shyla had been addicted to the sarcophagus herself, and after destroying it, had gone through withdrawal. Well good!… O’Neill hoped she’d gotten some of her own back. Although by all accounts her addiction was not nearly as severe as the archeologist’s, but then again she had not used the sarcophagus as many times in a very short period of time as Daniel.
The last report from the planet had indicated that the new Shyla was a much quieter, somewhat shyer ruler, who still wanted what was best for her people… that at least had not changed.
General Hammond had sent the SGC’s diplomatic core who, with the help of Daniel, secured an agreement with the lonely princess, allowing them access to some of the Naquada in exchange for modern mining equipment and help setting up an education system for her people.
Jack’s eyes continued to search looking for the source of his friend’s intoxication. He found nothing.
"You’re drunk, Daniel." he said in frustration, frowning down at the man.
"I’m not!… I haven’t been drinking." replied an indignant soft voice, this time obviously upset at not being believed.
"Well you are!… I’m not sure how, but…"
O’Neill continued, about to suggest they go find Doc Fraiser… thinking that perhaps this was just another unforeseen side-effect of the addiction. But then he saw it, the bowl in Daniel’s hands. There was piece of muskmelon and a slice of cantaloupe still left in it, and what looked like the remains of a large section of watermelon. The scientist was still trying to stab one of the last pieces of fruit with the appetizer skewer. He was missing.
"Daniel?…" O’Neill said in that soft suspicious tone of his. "… Where did you get the fruit?"
"I was hungry."
"I know Daniel… WHERE did you get it?!" the Colonel’s voice was still soft but had become more insistent now. He had a suspicion and if it turned out to be true someone was going to pay.
"On the table… with the rest of the food… Feretti gave it to me."
Daniel’s voice had taken on a slightly whiney, hurt tone, that suggested he wasn’t sure what he had done wrong now.
"Feretti!" the Colonel said the name like it was a curse.
"It’s just fruit, Jack." came the soft confused reply.
The Colonel picked up a piece of Daniel’s remaining fruit and sniffed it. He didn’t smell anything but… The Colonel looked around the surrounding area, spotting Feretti about halfway across the yard. Jack squatted down in front of Daniel so that the archeologist could see him better.
"Daniel… You stay right here… DON’T GO ANYWHERE… I need to go talk to someone for a moment."
"Okay, Jack." mumbled the younger man, relieved to be left alone again. He began to play with the last piece of fruit. Jack patted him on the shoulder and then rose to his feet.
‘Yeah, right’… O’Neill looked down at his friend and gave a grimace. He doubted that Daniel would even remember the conversation let alone being told to stay put. Daniel was always an easy drunk even when totally healthy, and right now he looked at least 3/4 of the way to passing out.
The Colonel moved over closer to the talking and laughing crowd, his intended victim clear in his sights. He stepped up to the side of Major Feretti and with his best Colonel voice said…
"Feretti!!"
His voice conveying the message that the Major’s ass was in so much trouble he would have to dig for a whole hour just to see daylight.
"Colonel?" came a confused response.
"DID YOU or DID YOU NOT, give Daniel spiked fruit!!"
Feretti looked surprised for a moment before a small smirk graced his face.
"Come on Colonel… It was a harmless…"
"Daniel is on medical restriction from alcohol…"
O’Neill continued, his voice no less hard. Feretti took the smirk off his face when he saw the Colonel had not relaxed any.
"The Doc thinks it might be dangerous for him right now… His body is still suffering from the aftereffects of that damn sarcophagus!"
"I’m sorry, Colonel… I didn’t know."
Feretti voice had taken on a guilty, contrite quality.
"Well now you do!!… Now get over there and take care of him while I find Fraiser."
Jack finished in the same unforgiving tone… ‘and you better pray that he’s okay.’
Feretti walked over in the direction the Colonel had pointed. Within a couple of minutes he had found the SG-1 archeologist, partially concealed beside the large bush next to the house. Colonel O’Neill was right, Daniel looked wasted. Feretti squatted down next to the young scientist, who didn’t seem to notice he was there.
"How are you doing, Dr. Jackson?"
he said softly. This brought a response from the linguist who though still trying to skewer the fruit, looked up and attempted to locate "who" had spoken to him. It took another minute for his eyes to latch on and for recognition to show in the bright blue orbs.
"Oh, hi Feretti… Nice party."
Daniel said, trying to make small talk. ‘Boy it was getting so a person can’t even hide anymore.’
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine…" was the answer that Feretti received, and then there was a pause for a half a minute before Daniel continued in a confidential manner.
"…Jack thinks I’m drunk, but I haven’t been drinking." as if that should be clear to everyone just by looking. He was just tired… maybe his blood sugar was low. Janet was always after him to make sure he ate regularly.
Feretti smirked to himself, hiding his smile with his hand.
"You are drunk, Daniel."
He said softly, amused in spite of himself. He knew he shouldn’t find this funny. The Colonel had said this could be dangerous for Daniel… but to see the archeologist so totally gone and sitting there proclaiming he’s not, was just funny somehow. "No."
"You got drunk on the fruit, my friend."
‘What?!’ Daniel looked down at the bowl in his lap like it had turned traitorous.
"I put ‘everclear’ in the watermelon and soaked the muskmelon and cantaloupe in it." confessed Feretti contritely, sorry now that he had ever handed that bowl of explosive fruit to Daniel.
"Feretti!!…"
Daniel replied his voice raising in a sound of exasperated panic
"…I’m not suppose to have alcohol… Doctor Janet going to kill me." he whined, hiccuping loudly at the end.
‘If I haven’t first.’ thought Feretti feeling worse by the minute. The Major wasn’t sure whether it was the hiccup, or Daniel’s messing up the Doc’s name with the unusual mixture of "Doctor Fraiser" and "Janet", but he sounded so pathetic that Feretti couldn’t help but try to reassure him.
"It’s okay Daniel… Colonel O’Neill has gone to find Fraiser."
"Noooo… She’s going to be mad."
"Yeah… but I don’t think it will be at you."
There was silence between the two as Daniel absorbed the fact that he really was drunk… Messed up again, unintentionally but that’s usually how it happened. Couldn’t he ever do anything right? He clunked the bowl down on the ground… wanting it far away from him. He was thoroughly disgusted with the bowl, with the fruit, with himself… Maybe he should give up. He just continued to mess things up for people. People who didn’t deserve it, people like Sam, Jack, and Teal’c.
After another minute or so of silent contemplation, Daniel looked up at the Major.
"Feretti… Do you need an archeologist on SG-2?"
Feretti looked down at Daniel, his eyes softening a bit wondering where this had come from. If Daniel hadn’t been so drunk he would of realized that SG-2 already had its own expert on geography and history… a captain that spent a lot of his time working between SG-2 and SG-3.
"What’s the matter, Daniel?… Don’t you like SG-1 anymore?" he said still keeping his voice soft, trying to draw the man out, maybe then this would all make sense.
"No… it’s just they deserve better… and I don’t want them to get hurt anymore…" the archeologist’s voice dropped low as he finished with a …
"…because of me."
‘Oh, so that was it.’
"Somehow I don’t think the Colonel will like that idea very much…" Feretti replied.
Daniel paused for a second before ploughing on as if Feretti had never spoken, his voice rising to match his emotion.
"I’d quit!… Or ask to be assigned to a desk somewhere hidden away so that I wouldn’t be able to mess up anymore and get someone killed…"
"You haven’t gotten anyone killed, Daniel." Feretti interjected, but Daniel continued on oblivious to him.
"…but I can’t!… I just can’t… I have to stay out there… I have to find Sha’re!" the distraught young man paused for a second, his eyes refocusing on the empty air right in front of him, Feretti temporarily forgotten.
"I have to get her home… I have to get her back to her father…"
Daniel stopped and licked his lips.
"… then I can go away… away from here… away from her… far enough to never destroy people’s lives again… once she’s safe… once she’s home."
Moisture filled Daniel’s eyes making them glisten. A single tear broke from one of the brilliant blue puddles and trailed down his cheek unheeded. After a moment Daniel absentmindedly wiped away unneeded dampness as if it had never existed, his eyes still focused on some distance unseen sight.
Feretti couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and neither could the man standing two feet from them on the other side of the bush. The Colonel had walked up intending to check on Daniel when he had heard the young man ask to be part of Feretti’s team. God, he had a lot of work to do here. He knew that Daniel had been withdrawn this week, but he had thought it was another side-effect of that damn sarcophagus. He should have realized that Daniel would be beating himself up over this… he should have known better. Feretti’s voice broke the silence.
"Daniel, you don’t mean that."
The archeologist let out a long sigh.
"You’re right… Never-mind Feretti… I like you too…" Daniel slurred out.
"…I wouldn’t want you to get hurt either…"
His mind having already jumped back to the "joining SG-2".
‘Uh, oh…’ thought Jack. He recognized that slurred sound. It wouldn’t be too long before the young linguist was asleep. He had seen the effects of alcohol on the genius’s mind before.
"… I’ll just have to think of something else." mumbled Daniel.
"No, I mean about Sha’re… You wouldn’t rescue her just to leave her."
Feretti replied.
"She needs someone better than me… Feretti, don’t you know what I did?!… What I was ready to do?!… I cheated on her!… I was going to abandon her!… I was going to leave her with Apophis!… All I wanted was to get back to Shyla and that sarcophagus and I didn’t care who I had to hurt to do it."
"Daniel, she loves you."
Feretti knew this for certain. He had seen it with his own eyes, not only on their first mission but on that ill-fated second mission as well. He had seen the look the young lovers had given each other before this whole mess had started.
"And I love her… and I want the world for her… I want her to have the best… and that’s not me."
Daniel finally finished his voice both soft and resigned, but his tone said his heart was bleeding from both guilt and pain.
‘Time to stop this.’ thought O’Neill. He opened his mouth to announce his presence but stopped himself when he caught sight of Fraiser hurrying across the grass, bag in hand. He hurried over to meet her and after he felt he was a safe distance away, turned around and gave a loud…
"Daniel!… I’ve got the Doc here to see you." his tone saying "And-you-better-be-the-hell-where-I-left-you."
As Jack and Janet rounded the bush, they could see the two men clearly. One squatted down beside the other, who was propped up against the building. One glance told O’Neill that Daniel was going downhill fast, his face was much more pale and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
The redheaded physician knelt down beside her patient while the Colonel continued to stand, just watching. She didn’t necessarily like what she saw. Fraiser shone her little penlight into his eyes and he flinched away… that was always a good sign.
"Daniel… Can you look at me?" she said. The look on Daniel’s face said he didn’t want to, not until she put that wicked light away. She did, having already received the reaction that she sought.
"I didn’t do it on purpose… I didn’t drink anything… Honest!" insisted the drunk man, his voice taking on a slightly whimpering quality.
"I know Daniel… I know it wasn’t your fault."
Fraiser said reassuringly. She turned her eyes from her patient for a moment, fixing Feretti with a glare. The man gulped involuntarily, her look promised that his next visit to her infirmary would not be pleasant. She turned back to address her patient, reaching out in the process to take his pulse.
"Daniel… How do you feel?"
Janet looked over the archeologist. He seemed to have relaxed at her words, his eyelids once again beginning to droop.
"Tired… " he mumbled
"…think I could really use a nap."
"No!… that’s not a good idea right now… Daniel, I need you to stay awake… Can you do that for me?"
There was a pause for a moment before the young man answered, a bit uncertainly.
"I can try."
Janet patted him softly on the knee as she stood up and turned to address O’Neill.
"Colonel, I’d like to get him inside and then we need to get some food and coffee into him. I really don’t want him falling asleep right now… not until I’m sure he’s going to be all right. We need to keep him awake and alert… just to make sure everything is working right upstairs."
‘Awake and alert’, well Jack knew how to do that… the most alert Jackson was a talkative Jackson… and there seemed to be a lot they needed to talk about.
"Sure, Doc." he said looking down at his teammate, grabbing one of his arms while Fraiser grabbed the other.
"Come on, Daniel… up you go." he said as they pulled the young man to his feet.
"Ah… where are we going?" came Daniel’s confused, questioning reply.
"We’re going to check out the General’s house… I hear it’s nice inside."
"Jack, we’ve already been inside."
"Come on, Daniel."
A few minutes later they had their intoxicated friend in the General’s rec. room, settled comfortably on his couch. O’Neill was just returning from a food run with a plate filled to the brim with burgers, chips, brownies, and anything else that he thought he could stuff down Daniel, except fruit of course, including a large cup of coffee. He inwardly wondered how many other SGC personnel would be waking up tomorrow with a hangover thanks to Feretti’s little gift.
In the meantime, Fraiser had been examining Doctor Jackson, and was in the process of drawing blood from his arm. When she finished she pocketed the ampule and rose back to her feet. Jack set his burden down in front of Daniel.
"Daniel… I want you to eat ALL of this…" the Doc said
"…your body needs something to help cut the alcohol."
Daniel took a tentative sniff in the direction of the beverage and then looked surprised.
"You’re giving me coffee?!" he said in a shocked voice, usually his restriction from caffeine was one of the first things that happened when he went under the Doctor’s care.
"Yes, Daniel…" answered O’Neill
"…we want a wide-awake drunk."
"Oh."
An hour and a half later, Daniel was looking much better. The color had returned to his face, the slur was gone from his speech, and his hand motions were much less clumsy. O’Neill was not a fool however, he knew the young man was far from sober, only time would bring about that.
Doctor Fraiser was busy drawing another sample of Daniel’s blood after having given Daniel another quick exam. She turned back to Jack.
"Colonel, I’m going to run this up to the Air Force hospital and run a couple tests. They should have the results back from the first sample by now…It’s not as bad as I originally thought… I think he’ll be all right but I’m leaving one of my nurses here just in case… Keep him alert and I’ll call when I know something."
O’Neill nodded in reply as she took one last look over her shoulder at her patient before leaving.
Jack stopped to fill a coffee cup with the black brew before crossing back over to the young man. Then after settling on the couch next to Daniel, slowly poured the contents of the cup into Daniel’s.
"Daniel, I want you to drink this."
Jack said as he handed the newly filled mug to Daniel.
"More coffee?!"
"Yeah, surprising I know… just don’t get use to it."
There was a pause for a couple of minutes, before O’Neill decided the time to talk had come.
"So, Daniel… What’s this about you leaving SG-1?"
Jack said in that tone of his that reminded one of a cat ready to pounce.
"Feretti!" uttered the younger man in disgust under his breath.
"He didn’t… I… ah, overheard you two talking about it."
"Jack… you weren’t suppose to be listening." said the defeated, frustrated voice.
"I gathered that."
There was silence again while the older man studied the younger, and the younger studied his hands.
"How can you even ask after P3R636?… How can you ever trust me again?… God, How can you even stand to look at me?!" came the self-berating dialogue from Daniel.
An amused look came over O’Neill’s face as he leaned back, relaxing into the corner of the couch.
"I don’t know Daniel… some days it’s damn difficult." said Jack, knowing even as he said that, his attempt at humor would be totally lost on the emotional archeologist.
"I messed up so badly… I tried so hard but I just couldn’t do it… I almost got you killed. Every time I’d talk to Pyrus he’d immediately order your deaths… Shyla had to talk him out of it… She told him that you were ‘good people’ but he wouldn’t believe it… I couldn’t get through to him, he was so convinced we were sent by a Goa’uld… He wanted us gone! He wanted us dead!… so I did what Shyla wanted… I didn’t know how else to get you out."
Now this was news. Daniel hadn’t mentioned Pyrus continuing to order them to be killed, nor the princess’s pleas on their behalf. Maybe he had misjudged her… a little.
Daniel’s voice had carried more than a touch of despair in it. Moisture was threatening to drown his eyes once again. He swallowed hard, trying to drive back the sense of failure and loss that was attempting to overwhelm him.
"You didn’t mess up, Daniel… You got us home!… You completed the mission!… You got everyone home!" O’Neill said in a gentle yet firm tone, but Daniel was having none of it, now that the dam was open, it was all coming out.
"I let Shyla use me, Jack!… and use you to control me…"
Daniel said, his voice rising to match his alcohol-enhanced emotions, ones that were now filled with the anger of self-loathing. These combined strangely with an air of desperation in Daniel, for he wanted so badly for Jack to understand yet didn’t have any real hope that he would. Daniel began to stare into space again, his voice dropping once more into anguish.
"… She said that I’d have to trust her… I had to do what she wanted to get her help… that I had to get into that sarcophagus… every time she would say that… and after a while I didn’t mind anymore… I would even forget you were there for a little while, and then I’d remember and it would start all over again… God, I almost left you there."
"LISTEN to me Daniel!…" Jack began, his voice intense. The young man’s eyes refocused on Jack’s face. "YOU DIDN’T SCREW UP!… You found a way out… You kept working at it until you got us free… even with all the drugs in your system, you never gave up…and yes, Daniel… that sarcophagus was a drug as sure as heroin or cocaine is… and you didn’t leave us there, even in the state you were in… you didn’t leave us there… no one could have done more… no one else could of gotten us out… if it wasn’t for you we’d all be dead right now or close to it…If it had been Carter, or Teal’c, or me trying to convince Pyrus, we’d all be dead… You said it yourself, he was paranoid. He wanted us dead… and if it had been anyone else we would be… Its only because of your tie to Shyla that we’re free."
"General Hammond…"
"Yeah, General Hammond would have sent in the troops, and then maybe some of them might have gotten killed and a whole lot of Shyla’s people… and we might have died anyway."
O’Neill could tell that Daniel wasn’t necessarily accepting his explanation. He believed if it had been a regular military member of the SGC, they would have done something different, something that would have rescued their team without becoming compromised, without getting addicted. Daniel began to hug himself. He was not only drunk but miserable too.
"You didn’t think so in the mines, Jack… You were pretty mad." came Daniel solemn, disbelieving reply, contradicting his friend.
"Yeah, well I was wrong… I didn’t know everything that was going on… and what she was doing to you… now I do and I’m saying you did good."
"I told Shyla I’d stay with her, Jack…"
Daniel’s voice took on a new fatalistic quality as he continued to confess his self-perceived sins.
"… Once I found out she was using you to keep me there… I told her if she released you, I’d stay and ‘get to know her better’… She didn’t believe me… I’m sorry, Jack… I’m sorry for everything you went through because I couldn’t find the words to make her believe me."
Oh, man… another piece of information he didn’t know. Daniel had offered himself for their freedom. They could have lost him if she had taken him up on the offer. After they had gone through the gate, she might never have let him go. All she would have had to do was destroy his GDO or keep him from going near the gate, but apparently that wasn’t enough for her… she wanted Daniel to want to stay.
"Daniel, NOTHING you could of said would have made any difference… She wasn’t taking any chances… There was no way she was going to release us when there was a possibility you would leave. We were her insurance policy, one that allowed her to control you… but she knew it wouldn’t last because the mines would eventually kill us and that might have turned you off to her forever… So she used the time to get you addicted… and she kept at it until she knew there was no way you would be able to leave her… and it worked, but she had no idea at the lengths we would go to hold onto you, Daniel."
O’Neill paused for a breath before continuing.
"… She used that sarcophagus the same as if she was shooting drugs right into your system."
"She’s not bad Jack… just lonely…and addicted. The sarcophagus was affecting her judgement too."
Well, maybe but O’Neill wasn’t up to forgiveness yet, maybe not for a long time. As far as Jack was concerned if he never saw that planet again it would be too soon.
There was another pause.
"I got us into the situation to start with." mumbled the still confessing archeologist, breaking the silence, still not ready to accept the absolution his friend offered.
"Okay, you got me there… but I don’t want to be around if there comes a time where Daniel Jackson would stand around and let someone die just because it was easier. That’s not you, Daniel… It never will be."
Silence descended between the two men again as each thought about what the other had said. Finally O’Neill answered the stillness.
"Now, no more talk of leaving SG-1… We need you." ‘and you need us.’ finished Jack silently. There was another pause for a moment before Jack spoke again.
"And Daniel… About Sha’re…"
The younger man physically pulled into himself, gritting his teeth. ‘Oh, God… Jack had heard that too.’
"Daniel, it was the sarcophagus talking, not you… YOU would never abandon your wife… ‘that man’ was not you… Carter said it… the Daniel she knew would never have said all those mean things to her."
"I said mean things to everyone Jack."
"You physically said them true, but it wasn’t YOU… It was the drug, it was the sarcophagus."
"I don’t deserve her, Jack… Shyla and I… we…"
"And how many times had you been in that sarcophagus when that happened?"
"I don’t know… it was sometime after I visited you in the mines…the second time."
Daniel ducked his head in shame. He remembered all too well how he had acted that time… arrogant, self-righteous, self-absorbed… and meanwhile his friends had been slaving away, their bodies deteriorating before their very eyes.
"Well, if I recall right, you told Carter you had used it nine or ten times already when you visited… So it’s a fair bet you probably used it several more times after that…"
Jack turned his soft brown eyes to stare directly into the confused blue ones in an attempt to drive his point home.
"…Daniel!… You were already under the influence by the time you came to see us… It was the sarcophagus, Daniel… Shyla drugged you, manipulated you, and then seduced you… You would have never done it otherwise… and I think she knew that and planned her attack accordingly."
"You make her sound so evil…"
"Well, she wasn’t nice… not as bad as her old man… but not nice… She knew exactly what she was doing and the effect it’d have on you, and she did it anyway."
"She was just…"
"Lonely!… Yeah, I know…"
"…desperate."
‘Don’t make it sound like she’d have to be desperate to want you, Danny-boy… even if you don’t notice the looks the females give you, the rest of us are not so blind’ thought Jack. But he smiled at his friend, the amused look back on his face for a moment before it was replaced once again with a solemn air.
"She DRUGGED you and then took advantage of your condition… Don’t take it out on Sha’re… She will need you Daniel; especially after all she’s been through… Don’t withhold the love by withholding your presence, not out of some warped sense of guilt!"
There was stunned silence for a moment, as the words seemed to bounce off the room’s walls. About that time Feretti appeared at the door.
"Colonel… Doctor Fraiser’s on the phone for you."
Jack turned to address Daniel.
"I’ll be back in a minute, Daniel."
He promised and turned toward Feretti, nodding his head toward Daniel, indicating the junior officer should come take up the post.
"Try not to poison him this time, Will ya?!" O’Neill mumbled under his breath to Feretti, in a slightly threatening tone before exiting the room. Oh, yeah… Feretti was sure now… his butt would be in a sling over this for a long time.
"Hi Daniel" he said as he sat down next to the SG-1 scientist. Daniel looked up a bit relieved it was only Feretti.
"Hi"
The two men sat in relative silence for a few minutes, each one watching the other, not knowing what to say. Finally Feretti mumbled…
"I’m sorry I got you drunk, Daniel… It was a joke, I didn’t know."
"S’kay" came the reply and silence elapsed around them again.
O’Neill walked across the room and picked up the phone lying on the table.
"Doc?"
"Colonel… I got the first results back on Daniel’s blood work… I think he’s going to be fine, but I’d like to keep him under observation at the SGC overnight."
O’Neill grimaced. He didn’t think Daniel would want to spend another night in the infirmary… too many fresh memories, none of them good.
"Doc… Can’t I just take him home with me?… I don’t think the infirmary is the place he’ll want to be."
‘Especially in his current condition.’
There was a hesitation on the other end of the phone, then a small sigh.
"If you’re sure Colonel… I want you to call me if Daniel starts showing any unusual symptoms."
"You have my word."
"Okay… call me at 2200 hours and let me know how he’s doing… Keep him awake until then…"
"Alright."
And with that he hung up the phone. When Colonel O’Neill approached the door, he waved Feretti over.
"Congratulations… the Doc says you get to live."
O’Neill said to the junior officer.
"So Daniel…"
"Doc thinks he’ll be fine, but he will be coming home with me tonight. Fraiser doesn’t want him left alone quite yet."
Jack then raised his voice so it would carry over to the intoxicated man.
"Hear that Daniel… You’ll be bunking at my place tonight."
There was a grimace and a groan.
"Are you sure you want me there, Jack… I could…"
"HEY!…" hissed O’Neill warningly, raising a finger. "…We’ve been through this…" letting it be known he was taking no arguments.
An hour later Jack had his friend settled on his living room couch, wrapped in a blanket. He then proceeded to feed him pizza and torture him with hockey for the rest of the evening.
<two days later>
As General George Hammond approached the door to his office, he could hear the two men in the hall talking. The General peeked through the crack in the door and stood there for a second listening.
"Say it, Daniel."
"Jackkkk…"
"Say it… That’s an order."
The SG-1 commander was standing there holding up a single finger, indicating "one". There was a second more of silence and then the General heard a… "Daniel!" uttered as a warning. Another hesitation occurred before a long sigh came out of the younger man, who finally gave in and began to recite the memorized lines while looking quite embarrassed.
"I did not screw up on P3R636… I saved SG-1."
"And?"
"…and no one else would have been able to do it." the archeologist said in a low, flat monotone voice.
O’Neill held up a second finger and Jackson’s monologue continued.
"Sha’re will need me to be with her."
Jack held up a third finger.
"I promise to stay away from alien princesses and sarcophagus."
Jack put his hand down, apparently satisfied.
"Jack, how long are you going to keep making me say that?!" said Daniel, his voice now laced with frustration.
"Until you believe it, Dannyboy…" Jack said gently, reaching up and ruffling Daniel’s long hair.
"… until you believe it."
The General just smiled, still hidden from view by the door. He was sure now, his premier team would come through this ordeal whole, not necessarily without scars, but whole. ‘Ah… Psychology 101… O’Neill style, nothing like it.’
AUTHOR'S NOTE : Special thanks to Adrianna, who served as editor as well as beta reader and listens to me rant about my stories. And to Pooka and Sleepy for being beta readers.
© July, 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.