Story: Normal Is As Normal Does, Part III
In which Paul Davis teaches soccer, and Jack and Daniel take a vacation.
As far as Eddie could tell, there was no rhyme or reason behind the hobbies Teal’c decided to try. Sometimes he heard about one from someone at SGC, or saw something online or on TV that interested him. Eddie figured that making trying different hobbies into a hobby was pretty unique. Sam had pointed out that for most of his life Teal’c hadn’t enjoyed the freedom to try something just to see if he liked it, and Eddie thought their Jaffa friend was doing a pretty good job of making up for lost time.
You never knew what Teal’c would try next. A few weeks ago he’d been into whittling; before that he’d briefly tried birdwatching with one of the supply clerks. Most recently, he had decided it was time to try baking. Naturally, he asked Sam if she would provide him with guidance in this endeavor. Their first lesson hadn’t gone well. Eddie left just as it started, because he had to pick Bill Lee up at the airport. Bill’s flight was late, and by the time Eddie got back, he could barely recognize the kitchen.
Despite the mess (both Sam and Teal’c insisted that nothing had actually blown up, despite appearances to the contrary), their cake was pretty good. After a couple more lessons, Teal’c was ready to show off his new skills.
Jack, never a man to turn down desserts, was getting a bit impatient. He and Daniel were on the couch while Teal’c put the finishing touches on his cake. Even Sam had been sent to join Eddie on the loveseat, because Teal’c was determined to do this all on his own.
Daniel reached out and grabbed his twitchy partner’s hand. “Jack. Stop it. He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
Jack kept looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
“I’ve seen you wait motionless for ten hours lying on the ground, but you can’t wait fifteen minutes for cake?”
“It’s all about motivation,” replied Jack, as though this explained everything.
“How about Teal’c’s displeasure if you interrupt him?”
Jack slumped a little. “Good point.”
“So you must be leaving soon,” Eddie said.
“Friday night,” answered Jack. “I was afraid they wouldn’t finish the vinyl siding in time, but it’s supposed to be done tomorrow.”
“I’m still trying to convince him to ride a camel,” added Daniel.
Sam seemed to like that idea. “If you do, take pictures.”
“Camels and I don’t get along,” insisted Jack.
“I wonder whose fault that is,” said Daniel sarcastically.
“One particularly mean old camel, if you must know.”
Eddie exchanged amused grins with Sam. He loved the way her face scrunched up a little, trying to keep her laughter inside. But then, he loved her generally. Even more now that they lived together, once they worked out the details involved. It really was amazing how the right person could make even regrouting the bathroom more fun. Eddie had lost some things in that fire, but what he’d gained was even better.
Egypt didn’t hold much to interest him, but Eddie decided he liked the idea of escaping together for vacation. Even Sam needed a vacation sometimes. He thought it would be pretty easy to convince her to spend a week someplace warm in the middle of the winter.
Teal’c came out and announced, “The cake is ready.”
Jack, of course, led the way to the kitchen and made a beeline for the German chocolate cake, which Teal’c had displayed on Sam’s crystal platter. “Looks great, T. Let’s dig in.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sam. “I want to admire it.”
“For cryin’ out loud,” muttered Jack. “Cakes are for eating.”
Sam ignored him and the platter around. “German chocolate cake is hard to make look nice. You did a great job, Teal’c.”
“I am gratified that you approve.”
By this time, Eddie had to agree with Jack, who was casting somewhat longing glances at the knife. Less admiring, more eating. Eddie grabbed the stack of plates to hurry this process along.
*****
Paul exited the gate and walked down the ramp feeling each and every one of his forty years. He hadn’t been so exhausted since he’d run the Boston Marathon some thirteen years earlier. All the same, he’d finally gotten to travel through the stargate, and his mission was a complete success, so it had been a good afternoon.
This just wasn’t what he’d imagined when General O’Neill casually asked, “Davis, do you play any sports?”
Paul had played soccer in college and had enjoyed the occasional game since, though he was admittedly past his prime. (The key was to play with others who were also past their prime; ideally even more so.) This answer pleased the general, who promptly announced that he had a goodwill mission for Paul: teach Jaffa kids to play soccer. Paul had his suspicions that O’Neill was using this as a handy way to give his diplomatic liaison gate travel experience in a safe way, but he was more than okay with that.
This was part of SGC’s ongoing effort to support the Free Jaffa. Teal’c had reported that Bra’tac was concerned over lack of recreational opportunities for young Jaffa, particularly the boys who were used to military training practically as soon as they could walk. The level of discontent and frustration worried Bra’tac. The physical outlets that the Jaffa traditionally used were evidently so tied up in indoctrination and solving all problems with fights that Bra’tac, hoping to find inspiration for new activities, thought of asking for Tau’ri options.
Paul was pretty sure that General O’Neill had personally donated a dozen baseball gloves, not to mention the bases, baseballs, and a couple of bats. Teal’c had to have spent an entire month’s pay on an assortment of toys including volleyball sets and a trampoline. Word had gotten out and SGC personnel started to bring in toys. Originally they’d dropped them off with Teal’c, but soon his quarters were full of footballs, jump ropes, kickballs, and so on. When SG-4 brought in bicycles, General O’Neill assigned the impromptu toy drive to a storage room.
Paul maintained close ties with his family, and his seven nieces and nephews had given him a lot of practice in the keeping-up-with-kids department. In fact he’d been on leave two weeks earlier and spent the time in Connecticut with his younger sister, brother-in-law, and twin nephews. Running around after perpetually energetic five-year-old boys took a lot out of a man.
And yet teaching forty-three Jaffa kids to play soccer made his siblings’ offspring seem easy to keep up with. On the other hand, teaching soccer to Jaffa was less humiliating than his spectacular PlayStation loss to his oldest nephew (the low point of last Christmas), so there was something to be said for the low-tech route. Paul was exhausted and going to be sore for a few days, but at least he’d kept his dignity.
“I’m happy to report my mission was a success, sir,” he told O’Neill. “Though I wouldn’t recommend introducing the Jaffa to cleats.” He was going to have a nasty bruise on his left shin. Which, it occurred to him, would require a plausible explanation when Ray saw it. Paul was gaining a whole new respect for how active field personnel managed relationships when they couldn’t explain their injuries. And least he just had a bruise and sore muscles.
Noted.”
“Master Bra’tac is very pleased with our response to his concerns over the children.” Paul liked Bra’tac. The elderly Jaffa was refreshingly straightforward, disdaining the kind of posturing that dominated most diplomacy. Also, unlike most leaders Paul had interacted with, Bra’tac wasn’t interested in power for its own sake. He was truly committed to maintaining a functioning Free Jaffa society, independent of the Goa’uld and working out their own destiny. Bra’tac had earned Paul’s complete respect.
“The strongest allies are those who help before a problem becomes a crisis,” said Teal’c. Paul hadn’t even noticed Teal’c come in, but that was not particularly unusual. Teal’c was exceedingly talented at stealth approaches, and from all Paul could tell didn’t even try to sneak up on people, at least most of the time. It was just natural for him. And a bit unnerving for everyone else.
“These kids have had pretty crazy lives,” said O’Neill. “They deserve some fun.”
Paul nodded. “I’m impressed with their grasp of teamwork.” This was not something that came naturally to many kids, at least human ones, but the Jaffa figured out the importance in soccer right away.
Teal’c gave a small, pleased smile. Paul figured this was more or less the equivalent of beaming with pride. It was, as always, hard to be sure with Teal’c. But he was happy, the general was happy, and Paul had finally gotten through the stargate. It had been a good day.
*****
By the time they were in their third and final plane with Paris fading away beneath them, Daniel had convinced Jack to try a camel ride. (Jack would not, however, make promises about how long he was willing to remain on a camel.) This feat of persuasion had required explaining how much fun he’d had when he was a kid and rode camels, assurances that men had been riding camels for thousands of years without damage to sensitive parts of their anatomy, and a solemn promise that no embarrassing camel-riding pictures would see the light of day.
Sam was going to be very disappointed about that promise.
Daniel had done most of the planning for this trip, choosing places significant to him. Jack’s only request had been fitting in a nice dinner, which Daniel was happy to oblige by booking them on an upscale Nile dinner cruise. Otherwise, Jack’s preparations had been more of the security kind. He never went to a country without carefully reading the Department of State’s latest updates for American travelers.
“You’ve gotta hand it to the French,” said Jack. “They have some of the best airport pastries in the world.”
“And airport coffee.” He’d quite enjoyed that. It wasn’t the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but it was good, and superb by airport standards. Nothing made a layover better than a nice flaky croissant and a quality cup of coffee.
Jack stretched his feet out. “The extra leg room is nice.”
They were in the exit row seats, having traded seating assignments with a young couple who had a baby. Daniel liked the space and was mentally filing this away for future flights. “It is. I suspect that the people who design planes only fly first class.”
Despite the temptations of more space, neither he nor Jack were the type to spend twice as much on a plane ticket to upgrade. They were financially secure but not spendthrifts.
“Or they’re midgets,” suggested Jack.
“Your concept of vacation also means a vacation from political correctness, doesn’t it?”
“Pretty much. I have to be diplomatic at work, you know.”
“I know. You complain about it often enough.” This statement lost some of its impact when Daniel’s yawn cut off ‘enough.’
“You wanna try to catch a nap? I’ll stay awake,” offered Jack.
Daniel still didn’t sleep well on planes, but his odds of getting at least forty minutes or so improved considerably if he knew he was with someone who would stay awake. Why this was, he couldn’t quite say.
He nodded and leaned his seat back a little. “I’ll take some peanuts if they come by.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Ginger ale.”
“Got it.” Jack grabbed his book, ready to read more tales of an Alaskan bush pilot.
This flight was mercifully much smoother than their trans-Atlantic flight had been (though turbulence didn’t stop Jack from getting five solid hours of sleep; he was probably the only person on that flight who slept). Daniel drifted off and dreamt of sand, planes, and hieroglyphics. In his dream, there was an Egyptian glyph for ‘airplane.’
*****
Jack was really starting to feel like a pack mule, but he didn’t have the heart to complain because Daniel was having such a grand time. His partner had expertly navigated them to the Khan el-Khalili market, which he promised wasn’t just a tourist attraction. Jack was starting to wonder if this market took up half of Cairo; it seemed unending. They’d headed to the western side, which Daniel said was less touristy. Meanwhile, Daniel continued to surprise the merchants by effortlessly negotiating prices with them in Arabic.
And wasn’t it funny that somewhere along the way Jack had started thinking of Daniel as his partner. At first he hadn’t liked the word; it reminded him of cops and lawyers. Now, halfway across the world, he realized that it fit. The two of them were a team. Currently a purchasing-and-toting team, but still a team.
If suitcase space wasn’t a concern, Daniel might have bought out a couple of the used book dealers. At least Daniel had foreseen this in advance and they’d left empty space when they packed. Still, getting everything home was going to be a tight fit. Daniel had picked up four books - one of which he’d been hoping to find for years - which were currently weighing Jack down. That was in addition to an array of spices, stuffed dates, and a hand-carved jewelry box for Cassie. They hadn’t even gotten thank-you-for-dogsitting presents for Alana and Kelly. Daniel was not in a hurry. He was enjoying himself, picking up things that brought up happy memories of his childhood.
Jack was wearing his only purchase, a baseball cap he picked up because he’d somehow forgotten to pack one.
“We came here on my sixth birthday,” said Daniel while he browsed yet another book stall. “The best birthday of my childhood. My maternal grandmother came to visit. She knew that she didn’t have very long, and she wanted to see the country where we spent so much time. I got to pick everything we did all day.”
“Sounds like fun,” agreed Jack. What kid wouldn’t like to be able to make those choices? It was one of the abilities all kids longed for about adulthood.
“I felt like the center of the world,” Daniel added quietly.
“Can’t ask for a better birthday present.”
“No, you can’t.”
After a moment of reflection, Daniel went back to examining the books, leaving Jack to hope that he’d been able to make Daniel feel like the center of the world again. He was, after all, the center of Jack’s world.
Unfortunately, Jack’s world was not a place where the Arabic language was welcome, which in Egypt was a bit of an issue. He knew a smattering of Arabic, but that was a language he’d tried very hard to forget after his stint in the Iraqi prison. Anyway, most of his Arabic wasn’t fit for use in polite company. Or much of any company, really. He could tell someone to go fuck themselves in three different dialects, but was really hoping not to need that on this trip.
In truth, just hearing Arabic spoken everywhere was a bit unnerving for him. He’d discovered this before they even checked into their hotel. All in all, his time in that Iraqi hellhole could’ve been worse. He’d been lucky enough - if you could call it that - in that the prison was reigning in some of its excesses, temporarily, while he was there. Apparently one too many prisoners had been tortured to death, a detail that bothered the prison administration only because dead prisoners gave up no intel. Still, it had been hell, and the constant Arabic chatter in Egypt, even if it was a different dialect, brought back some less than pleasant memories.
Not for Daniel, though. He bounded over to Jack with book number five. “This has an amazing collection of old sketches and photographs.”
“At this rate, we’re gonna be leaving our jeans behind.” Not to mention the bag was getting pretty full.
Daniel ignored that. “Kanafeh!” He dragged Jack over to a stall. “It’s a dessert. Filled pastry.”
Jack eyed the stuff for a minute. It didn’t look half bad. “I’ll try some.”
Daniel got to surprise yet another vendor with his perfect Arabic. He did so enjoy that.
Jack could taste the pistachio. “This is pretty good,” he told Daniel.
“I’ve always thought so.”
For a dessert, kanafeh wasn’t very sweet. Then again, Jack knew from his travels that many cultures just about gagged over how much sugar Americans put in their food. When he’d been stationed in Japan, early in his career, his mom had sent care packages which contained more sugar than the average Japanese person ate in a year.
“You seem… edgy,” said Daniel between bites.
Jack just shrugged.
“If you’re bored we can-”
“I’m fine, Daniel. Don’t worry about me.”
“You should know by now that telling me not to worry only makes me worry more.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“But there is something.”
Since Daniel wasn’t going to let this go, Jack nodded minutely. “All this Arabic reminds me a little of Iraq, that’s all.”
Predictably, his lover grew guilty at breakneck speed. “Damn, that never even occurred to me. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Still…”
“It’s okay, cariad. Really.” When Daniel didn’t look convinced, Jack added, “On an annoyance scale of one to ten, this doesn’t even hit two. But seeing you here, sharing it with you? Blows the happiness scale out of the water.”
Daniel gave him a stunning, beaming smile. Oh yeah, totally worth it.
*****
When Daniel had decided he wanted to go to Aswan, Jack asked what was there besides the dam. He had to give his partner credit for trying to be interested in the Unfinished Obelisk. What had gotten Jack’s attention, naturally, was not the significance of the largest known ancient obelisk; instead, he understood the personal significance of the Unfinished Obelisk as the site where Daniel’s parents had their first date. That had given it a special meaning to them, which they passed on to their son. “Without that obelisk, you might not exist,” his mom had once told him. Since this trip was about showing Jack the places special to him, places he’d never shared with anyone else, Daniel wanted to visit the Unfinished Obelisk.
Overlooking the obelisk, Daniel felt in a weird way like he was visiting an old friend. A very, very old and inanimate friend. He didn’t even try to explain that one. Instead he just said, “You have to admit it’s impressive.”
“It’d be more impressive without the big crack.”
Daniel just stared at his partner. It was a little hard to tell due to the shades (and didn’t Jack look sexy as hell!), but he seemed slightly contrite. “Is that some sort of archaeological sacrilege?” asked Jack after a moment.
“Practically.”
Jack obligingly looked over the obelisk again. “Pretty big project without power tools,” he conceded.
Well, he hadn’t brought Jack out to appreciate the archaeological importance anyway.
“I wonder if they ever wished for a crane.”
“Doubtful. You’re projecting your mindset back into ancient Egypt. They had no concept of a modern crane.”
“Oh.” Jack thought for a minute. In his own unique way, he was making a real effort to understand, and for Jack understanding meant relating the past in terms he could identify with. “Longer lunch breaks?”
Daniel managed a little nod through his laughter. “Entirely possible.”
“Makes me think of that weird video,” added Jack.
He’d thought of that himself on the quick flight from Cairo to Aswan. “All that knowledge.” Daniel was still berating the alternate version of himself for not finding a way to tell himself about what it was like to actually live in ancient Egypt. But he tried not to think about it much. All of them did. It was just too weird.
“It would suck to be…them.”
Daniel arched his eyebrows a bit, daring Jack to continue blithely.
“Well, you know. You’d probably have been okay. Not you, per se, but…” he leaned in, whispering, “Damn it, this is hard enough when I can use the right words!”
“No ESPN, you mean?” suggested Daniel.
“Exactly.”
By mutual silent agreement they moved past the strange topic of their alternate timelines. As Teal’c had declared when the rest of them were trying to make sense of it (Sam had actually started a flow chart), “Ours is the only timeline of consequence.”
Jack leaned in so their shoulders pressed together. “So, this is the place, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Only your family, Daniel, would have a first date here.”
“It’s a perfectly good place for a picnic.”
“Sure. I’m just saying it’s a tad unusual.”
It was hard to argue with that.
“Fits, though,” Jack decided.
They walked along, Daniel quietly making mental comparisons with some of the obelisks he’d seen offworld. None of them were bigger than this as far as he could recall.
“I bet you were the only kid really interested in this,” said Jack after they passed a family whose son was absorbed in his Gameboy. (The travesty!) “As opposed to, say, the camels.”
“Other kids thought it was interesting,” said Daniel, “but only for a few minutes. I remember feeling bad for all the people who worked hard to carve this.”
“Seems kind of a waste,” agreed Jack.
“It’s not, really. My father explained how much we can learn from it.”
“See, that’s what I’m saying. You were what, six?”
“Seven.”
“When I was seven, I would’ve looked at this for about two minutes, tops, and then I’d have been begging for a camel ride.” Jack considered that for a few seconds, then realized, “Of course, you’d probably ridden lots of camels by that point.”
“I had.”
“That explains why they like you.”
“Jack, you can’t make an entire species hate you just like that.”
“Already have,” replied Jack proudly. “Snakes.”
“That has no bearing on camels.”
It wasn’t the camels holding a grudge - that was all Jack. He’d suffered through his camel ride anyway. Halfway through, Daniel tuned out his partner’s muttered threats (and what anyone but Jack would consider whining) and simply enjoyed his own camel ride.
“You know how there was the Horse Whisperer?” asked Jack suddenly.
“Yes.”
“I wonder if there’s a Camel Whisperer.”
This, Daniel decided, was one of those instances where it was better not to ask what was going on in Jack’s head.
*****
As soon as Jack and Daniel stepped through Alana’s front door to reclaim Zelda, the dog only had eyes for them. Alana and Kelly might as well have ceased to exist for all she cared. Even if Alana was slightly offended, she had to admire that kind of loyalty.
Daniel looked pretty much how Alana always felt after a long trip: exhausted, jet-lagged, relieved to finally be home, and ready to crash on the nearest available soft horizontal surface. She was impressed that he hadn’t sent Jack to pick up Zelda alone. Because Jack, in a feat that was nearly superhuman, appeared to be fresh and energetic.
“Is everything okay?” asked Jack.
Oops. Apparently she’d stared a little too long. “I’ve never seen anyone look so rested after a long flight.”
He just shrugged. “I slept on the plane.”
“He can sleep on any flight, no matter how much turbulence,” added Daniel, “and he barely gets jet lag.”
“Air Force,” said Jack, who seemed to think that was all the explanation anyone needed.
“I’m jealous,” declared Alana.
“Me too,” added Kelly as she came into the room, “but of the cool places you go. Any awards this time?”
“Nope. Just a vacation.” Jack held out a bag. “We brought souvenirs.”
Alana and Kelly each unwrapped an exquisitely carved wooden camel. “It’s beautiful,” said Alana. “Thank you.”
“Oh, cool!” exclaimed Kelly. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome,” replied Daniel the same time Jack said, “Sure.”
“You have great taste,” Alana told them.
“That’s Daniel. I just carried things.”
“Gram will love this,” mused Kelly.
She was right about that. “My mom’s always wanted to go to Egypt,” explained Alana.
Daniel perked up slightly at this. “It’s a lovely country with such a rich history and culture.” His enthusiasm was somewhat ruined by a yawn.
“It’s pretty safe for Americans,” added Jack. Alana suspected he was the type to research this before going anywhere. Then again, retired generals who were still involved in top-secret projects probably had to be pretty careful about such things.
“We can’t convince her to get on a plane,” said Kelly.
“Goodness knows we’ve tried.” Alana had spent years trying; after 9/11 she’d lost any progress she might have made.
“Not even to visit Aunt Kristie in LA.”
Which was why Kristie inevitably ended up coming to Colorado Springs for Christmas. Kelly was fascinated by her aunt’s ‘glamorous’ life as a TV producer and always wanted to go see her in LA. Alana, for her part, was happy to let her sister deal with earthquakes and three-hour traffic jams.
“Don’t get him started on planes,” warned Daniel. “It’s a topic near and dear to Jack’s heart.”
Jack gave his partner a slightly annoyed look. “Please. I have to get you home before you fall asleep against the wall.”
“Thanks again for watching Zelda,” said Daniel, ignoring Jack’s last remark altogether. “We really appreciate it.”
“Yeah. I read some horror stories about kennels, so I’d rather not go that route.” Jack scooped up the bag of dog food and her bed before handing Daniel the leash and bag of toys.
“Did she behave?” Daniel asked between yawns.
“Yes. We all get along well, except the cat of course.” Mocha objected on principle to the presence of a dog. He also objected to her habit of scaring away the birds he might have otherwise stalked.
“Naturally.”
“Thanks for the camel,” said Kelly.
“Sure. ‘Night ladies, and thanks again.” With that, Jack shepherded Daniel and Zelda out the door.
“Next driving lesson, I’ll have to ask if they rode camels,” declared Kelly. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“I think it sounds painful.” Alana tried not to crush her daughter’s dreams, though, so she added, “How about you ride a camel some day and tell me?”
*****
Daniel had upgraded to a digital camera before their trip. It had been high time, really, but outside of work he didn’t take very many pictures so he hadn’t bothered for a while. Jack had been won over by the fact that they didn’t have to tote around rolls of film. Plus, he could check to make sure that the picture where it looked like he was petting the Sphinx came out just right. Now Daniel was online ordering prints; he made sure to order an extra copy of Jack’s Sphinx-petting photo to send to Aunt Kate.
Once the national news was done Jack shut off the TV. “Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“You know how you were talking about Camulus?”
“Yes,” answered Daniel, wondering where this was headed. On the way home from work he’d mentioned the temple to Camulus that SG-14 had found while he and Jack were in Egypt.
“I was thinking. He was a Celtic god, supposedly, right?”
“Yes.”
“The Irish were Celts.”
“I’m not sure past tense is entirely appropriate, but yes.” In the interest of seeing where Jack was going with this, Daniel didn’t delve into the persistence of Celtic cultural influences.
“Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. What if they weren’t regular snakes? What if he fought the Goa’uld?”
Daniel mulled this over. Many people thought that ‘snakes’ was a metaphoric reference to pagan religions. On the other hand, if pagan religions were in fact worshipping the Goa’uld, and assuming of course that at some point someone in ancient Ireland realized the parasitic nature of the Goa’uld… “It’s impossible to be sure without evidence, but you could be on to something.”
Jack was pleased with himself. Daniel had to admit, he was impressed as well. “It’s a very interesting theory, Jack. We’ll keep it in mind.” ‘We’ being his department, of course. “I’ll be sure to give you credit when we talk about it at work.”
At that his partner made a little face. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest that nobody at SGC bought into his dumb act for a minute and hadn’t for years, but Jack cut him off. “Not that one. The one where I still think it’s all lies and fairy tales.”
“Why does that matter?” he asked warily.
“Keeps the reports shorter.”
That was fair enough. Now it was Daniel’s turn to be a bit smug. “Still, I’ve been a good influence on you.”
“Yeah, well, this stuff saved our asses enough.” Then he hastened to add, “Don’t expect this to be a regular event.”
Daniel just chuckled. “So, what inspired this?”
His partner shrugged. “All that stuff about Camulus. I heard the whole snake-driving story a lot when I was a kid. It was one of my grandmother’s favorites.”
“You never cease to amaze, Jack.” That was one of the things Daniel loved about him.
“I try.”
“The ancient Irish would have had to recognize the true nature of the Goa’uld.”
“All it takes is a couple of people seeing one take a new host.”
“True,” mused Daniel. “It really is an interesting idea. Although it casts St. Patrick in a very different light.”
“Less preacher, more freedom fighter,” agreed Jack. “But it kinda makes sense. I mean, people have been mixing wars and religion for a long time.”
“And supposing he truly believed in Christianity,” an assumption Daniel went with because he had no reason to think otherwise, “the Goa’uld wouldn’t take kindly to someone trying to erode their power base.”
“Next thing you know, you’ve got a holy war.”
Daniel had never seen anything particularly holy about war. It was notably hypocritical in Christianity. The Assyrians, for example, had incorporated cruelty into their religion much more seamlessly. That was hard to do with such a nonviolent deity as Jesus. But anyone could twist religion for their own purposes. And he firmly believed that, holy or not, sending the Goa’uld packing was a worthy cause.
“If this is true,” he told Jack, “I’d be much more interested in celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.”
Jack’s laughter rang through the living room.
*****
Generally, Jack didn’t bother watching when Daniel brought home a foreign film. Most of the time he just tuned those movies out. Once in a while Daniel would pick out a Spanish movie he thought Jack would like, and that was okay if nobody spoke too quickly. Daniel timed his German movie rentals to coincide with Jack’s trips to Washington, because Jack knew enough German to sometimes get interested but not enough to keep up with everything that was said, and Daniel got annoyed when he kept interrupting to ask for translations.
This time it was an Israeli movie rented for the express purpose of giving Daniel’s Hebrew some practice. Jack didn’t speak a word of Hebrew other than ‘shalom.’ His language skills had been learned out of necessity - the Air Force had even sent him to intensive Spanish classes - and the Israelis took care of their own military. With Mossad, Israel didn’t need much help in the Special Ops department. Jack had worked with a Mossad operative once, and that man was intense.
Jack sat back in his recliner with the latest Newsweek and National Geographic, letting the chattering of Daniel’s movie fade into background noise. It had been a good day. He’d finally caught up on his backlog of work from vacation, so he was back down to needing two of him instead of three. Then he’d taken Kelly out for her second night driving lesson, and that had gone well. Colorado Springs was down a squirrel now, but there were plenty more. Kelly handled the situation alright, which was the important thing. She’d fought her instinct to slam on the brakes and kept moving, just as she should.
“I want to go dancing,” announced Daniel suddenly. Jack looked up and found the movie frozen in some kind of club scene.
“I suck at dancing.” He had even before his knee problems.
“I don’t care.”
Suspecting this was going to take a while, Jack put down his magazine. “You don’t care if I embarrass you with my lack of dancing skills?”
“You won’t.”
Jack wasn’t so sure about this. “Daniel, I-”
“I didn’t date much,” continued Daniel. “And never anyone who would go dancing.”
“Never?” Okay, he couldn’t really picture Sarah Gardner dancing. But surely there must have been someone. There had been a college boyfriend - didn’t everyone go dancing in college?
“Never.”
“Oh,” said Jack. He could see dancing in his imminent future.
“Sam and I were supposed to go once, but then we went to Kelowna.”
Jack pushed those horrible memories away and focused on the positive. Maybe he could still get out of this by having Daniel go dancing with Sam. Better late than never, right?
“I want to know what it’s like.” Before Jack could even suggest Sam, Daniel added, “And from what I understand, it’s more fun because of the sexual energy. So don’t go trying to weasel out of this.”
With a resigned sigh, he agreed. “Alright. We’ll go dancing. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I found a decent-looking gay club.” Naturally, Daniel had done his research. “That way people won’t be staring at us.”
Jack had never been to a gay club. That sort of thing tended to happen when you didn’t realize you were bi until your early fifties. But he figured his partner had a point. Colorado Springs was not known for its open-minded, liberal population. Besides, once Daniel’s mind was made up, it was pretty much an exercise in futility to keep arguing with him.
“Can we at least go on a slow night?” he asked. That way, he could at least embarrass himself in front of less people.
“That’s fine. Thanks, cariad.”
Jack was going to remark that Daniel shouldn’t thank him just yet, pre-dancing embarrassment, but then changed his mind when he saw Daniel’s face. Daniel was thanking him for understanding why this mattered, not just for going along.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’ll pick up the ice packs.”
*****
Sam caught up with Jack and Daniel in the parking lot. This wasn’t hard, because they were moving a bit slowly. Jack was favoring his weak knee, Daniel was favoring his weak foot, and they were both attempting to hide this behind a nonchalant, leisurely pace.
“How was dancing?” she asked.
“We might have overdone it,” admitted Daniel.
Sam wasn’t the least bit surprised. They both put in the time to stay in good shape, but a night of dancing worked a lot of different muscles and neither of them was known for doing anything halfway.
“It was a fun night,” Daniel continued, “but I’m not a very good dancer.”
Jack gave a little shrug. “What we lacked in talent, we made up for with enthusiasm.”
That could’ve been interesting to watch. “I’m sorry I missed it,” she told them.
From the expression on Jack’s face, Sam gathered that he was glad she hadn’t been there as an audience. He was probably afraid she would have brought her camera. One incident where she took a less-than-flattering picture of him, almost four years ago, and he’d been leery of her camera ever since. And she’d been helping Daniel photograph a collection of statues, not trying to get blackmail material. Sheesh. Sometimes, Jack could be a bit paranoid.
“You wouldn’t exactly have fit in with the clientele,” said Daniel diplomatically.
“I wouldn’t have to worry about creepy stalkers,” she countered. There were several good reasons she wasn’t into bars or clubs, and creeps who didn’t understand ‘no’ were high on the list.
Daniel conceded, “Probably not.”
“How’s that new gadget?” asked Jack as they approached the check-in. Evidently he didn’t want to discuss dancing in front of the SFs. Sam didn’t blame him a bit, especially with the somewhat sensitive gay club factor.
“Still frustrating.” In fact, she’d gone so far as to ask Jack to hold it the day before, thinking it could be a new form of Ancient technology. But the ‘invisible table’ SG-8 talked about failed to appear. It sounded like forcefield technology, which was highly interesting from both a physics and tactical standpoint. Sam was running out of ideas.
“And you checked to make sure the battery isn’t dead.”
“It’s hard to be sure with alien tech, but the power source seems operational. I even hooked it up to my mini naquadah generator.”
Daniel gave her a sympathetic look. He understood the frustration and the way she railed against giving up. They’d discussed it more than once over the years. It bothered Daniel when there was a language that he (or his staff) couldn’t translate, or a solitary monument where he couldn’t find any other sign of intelligent life. In those instances he felt as vexed and insignificant as she did when she couldn’t crack a technological puzzle.
Rationally, she knew that nobody could understand everything, especially when considering technology from planets that were generations ahead of Earth. That somehow failed to make her feel much better.
Her friends knew that she didn’t need platitudes, even well-intentioned ones. (Not long after she and Jack moved to a first-name basis, she got a bit snappish about one such remark. He’d yet to repeat the mistake.) She didn’t want to be reminded that nobody was omnipotent and that everyone had to leave something for those who followed. She particularly didn’t want to hear about Einstein’s failings.
Jack simply said, “Good luck.”
Daniel offered her a chance to vent if necessary by remarking, “My door is always open.” It wasn’t in a literal sense. Daniel actually had a system with his door. The wider open it was, the more willing he was to be disturbed. If the door was completely shut, he didn’t want to be interrupted except for something urgent. But Daniel always had time for the people he cared about, barring a life-or-death situation.
That was what friends were for.
As far as Eddie could tell, there was no rhyme or reason behind the hobbies Teal’c decided to try. Sometimes he heard about one from someone at SGC, or saw something online or on TV that interested him. Eddie figured that making trying different hobbies into a hobby was pretty unique. Sam had pointed out that for most of his life Teal’c hadn’t enjoyed the freedom to try something just to see if he liked it, and Eddie thought their Jaffa friend was doing a pretty good job of making up for lost time.
You never knew what Teal’c would try next. A few weeks ago he’d been into whittling; before that he’d briefly tried birdwatching with one of the supply clerks. Most recently, he had decided it was time to try baking. Naturally, he asked Sam if she would provide him with guidance in this endeavor. Their first lesson hadn’t gone well. Eddie left just as it started, because he had to pick Bill Lee up at the airport. Bill’s flight was late, and by the time Eddie got back, he could barely recognize the kitchen.
Despite the mess (both Sam and Teal’c insisted that nothing had actually blown up, despite appearances to the contrary), their cake was pretty good. After a couple more lessons, Teal’c was ready to show off his new skills.
Jack, never a man to turn down desserts, was getting a bit impatient. He and Daniel were on the couch while Teal’c put the finishing touches on his cake. Even Sam had been sent to join Eddie on the loveseat, because Teal’c was determined to do this all on his own.
Daniel reached out and grabbed his twitchy partner’s hand. “Jack. Stop it. He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
Jack kept looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
“I’ve seen you wait motionless for ten hours lying on the ground, but you can’t wait fifteen minutes for cake?”
“It’s all about motivation,” replied Jack, as though this explained everything.
“How about Teal’c’s displeasure if you interrupt him?”
Jack slumped a little. “Good point.”
“So you must be leaving soon,” Eddie said.
“Friday night,” answered Jack. “I was afraid they wouldn’t finish the vinyl siding in time, but it’s supposed to be done tomorrow.”
“I’m still trying to convince him to ride a camel,” added Daniel.
Sam seemed to like that idea. “If you do, take pictures.”
“Camels and I don’t get along,” insisted Jack.
“I wonder whose fault that is,” said Daniel sarcastically.
“One particularly mean old camel, if you must know.”
Eddie exchanged amused grins with Sam. He loved the way her face scrunched up a little, trying to keep her laughter inside. But then, he loved her generally. Even more now that they lived together, once they worked out the details involved. It really was amazing how the right person could make even regrouting the bathroom more fun. Eddie had lost some things in that fire, but what he’d gained was even better.
Egypt didn’t hold much to interest him, but Eddie decided he liked the idea of escaping together for vacation. Even Sam needed a vacation sometimes. He thought it would be pretty easy to convince her to spend a week someplace warm in the middle of the winter.
Teal’c came out and announced, “The cake is ready.”
Jack, of course, led the way to the kitchen and made a beeline for the German chocolate cake, which Teal’c had displayed on Sam’s crystal platter. “Looks great, T. Let’s dig in.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sam. “I want to admire it.”
“For cryin’ out loud,” muttered Jack. “Cakes are for eating.”
Sam ignored him and the platter around. “German chocolate cake is hard to make look nice. You did a great job, Teal’c.”
“I am gratified that you approve.”
By this time, Eddie had to agree with Jack, who was casting somewhat longing glances at the knife. Less admiring, more eating. Eddie grabbed the stack of plates to hurry this process along.
*****
Paul exited the gate and walked down the ramp feeling each and every one of his forty years. He hadn’t been so exhausted since he’d run the Boston Marathon some thirteen years earlier. All the same, he’d finally gotten to travel through the stargate, and his mission was a complete success, so it had been a good afternoon.
This just wasn’t what he’d imagined when General O’Neill casually asked, “Davis, do you play any sports?”
Paul had played soccer in college and had enjoyed the occasional game since, though he was admittedly past his prime. (The key was to play with others who were also past their prime; ideally even more so.) This answer pleased the general, who promptly announced that he had a goodwill mission for Paul: teach Jaffa kids to play soccer. Paul had his suspicions that O’Neill was using this as a handy way to give his diplomatic liaison gate travel experience in a safe way, but he was more than okay with that.
This was part of SGC’s ongoing effort to support the Free Jaffa. Teal’c had reported that Bra’tac was concerned over lack of recreational opportunities for young Jaffa, particularly the boys who were used to military training practically as soon as they could walk. The level of discontent and frustration worried Bra’tac. The physical outlets that the Jaffa traditionally used were evidently so tied up in indoctrination and solving all problems with fights that Bra’tac, hoping to find inspiration for new activities, thought of asking for Tau’ri options.
Paul was pretty sure that General O’Neill had personally donated a dozen baseball gloves, not to mention the bases, baseballs, and a couple of bats. Teal’c had to have spent an entire month’s pay on an assortment of toys including volleyball sets and a trampoline. Word had gotten out and SGC personnel started to bring in toys. Originally they’d dropped them off with Teal’c, but soon his quarters were full of footballs, jump ropes, kickballs, and so on. When SG-4 brought in bicycles, General O’Neill assigned the impromptu toy drive to a storage room.
Paul maintained close ties with his family, and his seven nieces and nephews had given him a lot of practice in the keeping-up-with-kids department. In fact he’d been on leave two weeks earlier and spent the time in Connecticut with his younger sister, brother-in-law, and twin nephews. Running around after perpetually energetic five-year-old boys took a lot out of a man.
And yet teaching forty-three Jaffa kids to play soccer made his siblings’ offspring seem easy to keep up with. On the other hand, teaching soccer to Jaffa was less humiliating than his spectacular PlayStation loss to his oldest nephew (the low point of last Christmas), so there was something to be said for the low-tech route. Paul was exhausted and going to be sore for a few days, but at least he’d kept his dignity.
“I’m happy to report my mission was a success, sir,” he told O’Neill. “Though I wouldn’t recommend introducing the Jaffa to cleats.” He was going to have a nasty bruise on his left shin. Which, it occurred to him, would require a plausible explanation when Ray saw it. Paul was gaining a whole new respect for how active field personnel managed relationships when they couldn’t explain their injuries. And least he just had a bruise and sore muscles.
Noted.”
“Master Bra’tac is very pleased with our response to his concerns over the children.” Paul liked Bra’tac. The elderly Jaffa was refreshingly straightforward, disdaining the kind of posturing that dominated most diplomacy. Also, unlike most leaders Paul had interacted with, Bra’tac wasn’t interested in power for its own sake. He was truly committed to maintaining a functioning Free Jaffa society, independent of the Goa’uld and working out their own destiny. Bra’tac had earned Paul’s complete respect.
“The strongest allies are those who help before a problem becomes a crisis,” said Teal’c. Paul hadn’t even noticed Teal’c come in, but that was not particularly unusual. Teal’c was exceedingly talented at stealth approaches, and from all Paul could tell didn’t even try to sneak up on people, at least most of the time. It was just natural for him. And a bit unnerving for everyone else.
“These kids have had pretty crazy lives,” said O’Neill. “They deserve some fun.”
Paul nodded. “I’m impressed with their grasp of teamwork.” This was not something that came naturally to many kids, at least human ones, but the Jaffa figured out the importance in soccer right away.
Teal’c gave a small, pleased smile. Paul figured this was more or less the equivalent of beaming with pride. It was, as always, hard to be sure with Teal’c. But he was happy, the general was happy, and Paul had finally gotten through the stargate. It had been a good day.
*****
By the time they were in their third and final plane with Paris fading away beneath them, Daniel had convinced Jack to try a camel ride. (Jack would not, however, make promises about how long he was willing to remain on a camel.) This feat of persuasion had required explaining how much fun he’d had when he was a kid and rode camels, assurances that men had been riding camels for thousands of years without damage to sensitive parts of their anatomy, and a solemn promise that no embarrassing camel-riding pictures would see the light of day.
Sam was going to be very disappointed about that promise.
Daniel had done most of the planning for this trip, choosing places significant to him. Jack’s only request had been fitting in a nice dinner, which Daniel was happy to oblige by booking them on an upscale Nile dinner cruise. Otherwise, Jack’s preparations had been more of the security kind. He never went to a country without carefully reading the Department of State’s latest updates for American travelers.
“You’ve gotta hand it to the French,” said Jack. “They have some of the best airport pastries in the world.”
“And airport coffee.” He’d quite enjoyed that. It wasn’t the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but it was good, and superb by airport standards. Nothing made a layover better than a nice flaky croissant and a quality cup of coffee.
Jack stretched his feet out. “The extra leg room is nice.”
They were in the exit row seats, having traded seating assignments with a young couple who had a baby. Daniel liked the space and was mentally filing this away for future flights. “It is. I suspect that the people who design planes only fly first class.”
Despite the temptations of more space, neither he nor Jack were the type to spend twice as much on a plane ticket to upgrade. They were financially secure but not spendthrifts.
“Or they’re midgets,” suggested Jack.
“Your concept of vacation also means a vacation from political correctness, doesn’t it?”
“Pretty much. I have to be diplomatic at work, you know.”
“I know. You complain about it often enough.” This statement lost some of its impact when Daniel’s yawn cut off ‘enough.’
“You wanna try to catch a nap? I’ll stay awake,” offered Jack.
Daniel still didn’t sleep well on planes, but his odds of getting at least forty minutes or so improved considerably if he knew he was with someone who would stay awake. Why this was, he couldn’t quite say.
He nodded and leaned his seat back a little. “I’ll take some peanuts if they come by.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Ginger ale.”
“Got it.” Jack grabbed his book, ready to read more tales of an Alaskan bush pilot.
This flight was mercifully much smoother than their trans-Atlantic flight had been (though turbulence didn’t stop Jack from getting five solid hours of sleep; he was probably the only person on that flight who slept). Daniel drifted off and dreamt of sand, planes, and hieroglyphics. In his dream, there was an Egyptian glyph for ‘airplane.’
*****
Jack was really starting to feel like a pack mule, but he didn’t have the heart to complain because Daniel was having such a grand time. His partner had expertly navigated them to the Khan el-Khalili market, which he promised wasn’t just a tourist attraction. Jack was starting to wonder if this market took up half of Cairo; it seemed unending. They’d headed to the western side, which Daniel said was less touristy. Meanwhile, Daniel continued to surprise the merchants by effortlessly negotiating prices with them in Arabic.
And wasn’t it funny that somewhere along the way Jack had started thinking of Daniel as his partner. At first he hadn’t liked the word; it reminded him of cops and lawyers. Now, halfway across the world, he realized that it fit. The two of them were a team. Currently a purchasing-and-toting team, but still a team.
If suitcase space wasn’t a concern, Daniel might have bought out a couple of the used book dealers. At least Daniel had foreseen this in advance and they’d left empty space when they packed. Still, getting everything home was going to be a tight fit. Daniel had picked up four books - one of which he’d been hoping to find for years - which were currently weighing Jack down. That was in addition to an array of spices, stuffed dates, and a hand-carved jewelry box for Cassie. They hadn’t even gotten thank-you-for-dogsitting presents for Alana and Kelly. Daniel was not in a hurry. He was enjoying himself, picking up things that brought up happy memories of his childhood.
Jack was wearing his only purchase, a baseball cap he picked up because he’d somehow forgotten to pack one.
“We came here on my sixth birthday,” said Daniel while he browsed yet another book stall. “The best birthday of my childhood. My maternal grandmother came to visit. She knew that she didn’t have very long, and she wanted to see the country where we spent so much time. I got to pick everything we did all day.”
“Sounds like fun,” agreed Jack. What kid wouldn’t like to be able to make those choices? It was one of the abilities all kids longed for about adulthood.
“I felt like the center of the world,” Daniel added quietly.
“Can’t ask for a better birthday present.”
“No, you can’t.”
After a moment of reflection, Daniel went back to examining the books, leaving Jack to hope that he’d been able to make Daniel feel like the center of the world again. He was, after all, the center of Jack’s world.
Unfortunately, Jack’s world was not a place where the Arabic language was welcome, which in Egypt was a bit of an issue. He knew a smattering of Arabic, but that was a language he’d tried very hard to forget after his stint in the Iraqi prison. Anyway, most of his Arabic wasn’t fit for use in polite company. Or much of any company, really. He could tell someone to go fuck themselves in three different dialects, but was really hoping not to need that on this trip.
In truth, just hearing Arabic spoken everywhere was a bit unnerving for him. He’d discovered this before they even checked into their hotel. All in all, his time in that Iraqi hellhole could’ve been worse. He’d been lucky enough - if you could call it that - in that the prison was reigning in some of its excesses, temporarily, while he was there. Apparently one too many prisoners had been tortured to death, a detail that bothered the prison administration only because dead prisoners gave up no intel. Still, it had been hell, and the constant Arabic chatter in Egypt, even if it was a different dialect, brought back some less than pleasant memories.
Not for Daniel, though. He bounded over to Jack with book number five. “This has an amazing collection of old sketches and photographs.”
“At this rate, we’re gonna be leaving our jeans behind.” Not to mention the bag was getting pretty full.
Daniel ignored that. “Kanafeh!” He dragged Jack over to a stall. “It’s a dessert. Filled pastry.”
Jack eyed the stuff for a minute. It didn’t look half bad. “I’ll try some.”
Daniel got to surprise yet another vendor with his perfect Arabic. He did so enjoy that.
Jack could taste the pistachio. “This is pretty good,” he told Daniel.
“I’ve always thought so.”
For a dessert, kanafeh wasn’t very sweet. Then again, Jack knew from his travels that many cultures just about gagged over how much sugar Americans put in their food. When he’d been stationed in Japan, early in his career, his mom had sent care packages which contained more sugar than the average Japanese person ate in a year.
“You seem… edgy,” said Daniel between bites.
Jack just shrugged.
“If you’re bored we can-”
“I’m fine, Daniel. Don’t worry about me.”
“You should know by now that telling me not to worry only makes me worry more.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“But there is something.”
Since Daniel wasn’t going to let this go, Jack nodded minutely. “All this Arabic reminds me a little of Iraq, that’s all.”
Predictably, his lover grew guilty at breakneck speed. “Damn, that never even occurred to me. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Still…”
“It’s okay, cariad. Really.” When Daniel didn’t look convinced, Jack added, “On an annoyance scale of one to ten, this doesn’t even hit two. But seeing you here, sharing it with you? Blows the happiness scale out of the water.”
Daniel gave him a stunning, beaming smile. Oh yeah, totally worth it.
*****
When Daniel had decided he wanted to go to Aswan, Jack asked what was there besides the dam. He had to give his partner credit for trying to be interested in the Unfinished Obelisk. What had gotten Jack’s attention, naturally, was not the significance of the largest known ancient obelisk; instead, he understood the personal significance of the Unfinished Obelisk as the site where Daniel’s parents had their first date. That had given it a special meaning to them, which they passed on to their son. “Without that obelisk, you might not exist,” his mom had once told him. Since this trip was about showing Jack the places special to him, places he’d never shared with anyone else, Daniel wanted to visit the Unfinished Obelisk.
Overlooking the obelisk, Daniel felt in a weird way like he was visiting an old friend. A very, very old and inanimate friend. He didn’t even try to explain that one. Instead he just said, “You have to admit it’s impressive.”
“It’d be more impressive without the big crack.”
Daniel just stared at his partner. It was a little hard to tell due to the shades (and didn’t Jack look sexy as hell!), but he seemed slightly contrite. “Is that some sort of archaeological sacrilege?” asked Jack after a moment.
“Practically.”
Jack obligingly looked over the obelisk again. “Pretty big project without power tools,” he conceded.
Well, he hadn’t brought Jack out to appreciate the archaeological importance anyway.
“I wonder if they ever wished for a crane.”
“Doubtful. You’re projecting your mindset back into ancient Egypt. They had no concept of a modern crane.”
“Oh.” Jack thought for a minute. In his own unique way, he was making a real effort to understand, and for Jack understanding meant relating the past in terms he could identify with. “Longer lunch breaks?”
Daniel managed a little nod through his laughter. “Entirely possible.”
“Makes me think of that weird video,” added Jack.
He’d thought of that himself on the quick flight from Cairo to Aswan. “All that knowledge.” Daniel was still berating the alternate version of himself for not finding a way to tell himself about what it was like to actually live in ancient Egypt. But he tried not to think about it much. All of them did. It was just too weird.
“It would suck to be…them.”
Daniel arched his eyebrows a bit, daring Jack to continue blithely.
“Well, you know. You’d probably have been okay. Not you, per se, but…” he leaned in, whispering, “Damn it, this is hard enough when I can use the right words!”
“No ESPN, you mean?” suggested Daniel.
“Exactly.”
By mutual silent agreement they moved past the strange topic of their alternate timelines. As Teal’c had declared when the rest of them were trying to make sense of it (Sam had actually started a flow chart), “Ours is the only timeline of consequence.”
Jack leaned in so their shoulders pressed together. “So, this is the place, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Only your family, Daniel, would have a first date here.”
“It’s a perfectly good place for a picnic.”
“Sure. I’m just saying it’s a tad unusual.”
It was hard to argue with that.
“Fits, though,” Jack decided.
They walked along, Daniel quietly making mental comparisons with some of the obelisks he’d seen offworld. None of them were bigger than this as far as he could recall.
“I bet you were the only kid really interested in this,” said Jack after they passed a family whose son was absorbed in his Gameboy. (The travesty!) “As opposed to, say, the camels.”
“Other kids thought it was interesting,” said Daniel, “but only for a few minutes. I remember feeling bad for all the people who worked hard to carve this.”
“Seems kind of a waste,” agreed Jack.
“It’s not, really. My father explained how much we can learn from it.”
“See, that’s what I’m saying. You were what, six?”
“Seven.”
“When I was seven, I would’ve looked at this for about two minutes, tops, and then I’d have been begging for a camel ride.” Jack considered that for a few seconds, then realized, “Of course, you’d probably ridden lots of camels by that point.”
“I had.”
“That explains why they like you.”
“Jack, you can’t make an entire species hate you just like that.”
“Already have,” replied Jack proudly. “Snakes.”
“That has no bearing on camels.”
It wasn’t the camels holding a grudge - that was all Jack. He’d suffered through his camel ride anyway. Halfway through, Daniel tuned out his partner’s muttered threats (and what anyone but Jack would consider whining) and simply enjoyed his own camel ride.
“You know how there was the Horse Whisperer?” asked Jack suddenly.
“Yes.”
“I wonder if there’s a Camel Whisperer.”
This, Daniel decided, was one of those instances where it was better not to ask what was going on in Jack’s head.
*****
As soon as Jack and Daniel stepped through Alana’s front door to reclaim Zelda, the dog only had eyes for them. Alana and Kelly might as well have ceased to exist for all she cared. Even if Alana was slightly offended, she had to admire that kind of loyalty.
Daniel looked pretty much how Alana always felt after a long trip: exhausted, jet-lagged, relieved to finally be home, and ready to crash on the nearest available soft horizontal surface. She was impressed that he hadn’t sent Jack to pick up Zelda alone. Because Jack, in a feat that was nearly superhuman, appeared to be fresh and energetic.
“Is everything okay?” asked Jack.
Oops. Apparently she’d stared a little too long. “I’ve never seen anyone look so rested after a long flight.”
He just shrugged. “I slept on the plane.”
“He can sleep on any flight, no matter how much turbulence,” added Daniel, “and he barely gets jet lag.”
“Air Force,” said Jack, who seemed to think that was all the explanation anyone needed.
“I’m jealous,” declared Alana.
“Me too,” added Kelly as she came into the room, “but of the cool places you go. Any awards this time?”
“Nope. Just a vacation.” Jack held out a bag. “We brought souvenirs.”
Alana and Kelly each unwrapped an exquisitely carved wooden camel. “It’s beautiful,” said Alana. “Thank you.”
“Oh, cool!” exclaimed Kelly. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome,” replied Daniel the same time Jack said, “Sure.”
“You have great taste,” Alana told them.
“That’s Daniel. I just carried things.”
“Gram will love this,” mused Kelly.
She was right about that. “My mom’s always wanted to go to Egypt,” explained Alana.
Daniel perked up slightly at this. “It’s a lovely country with such a rich history and culture.” His enthusiasm was somewhat ruined by a yawn.
“It’s pretty safe for Americans,” added Jack. Alana suspected he was the type to research this before going anywhere. Then again, retired generals who were still involved in top-secret projects probably had to be pretty careful about such things.
“We can’t convince her to get on a plane,” said Kelly.
“Goodness knows we’ve tried.” Alana had spent years trying; after 9/11 she’d lost any progress she might have made.
“Not even to visit Aunt Kristie in LA.”
Which was why Kristie inevitably ended up coming to Colorado Springs for Christmas. Kelly was fascinated by her aunt’s ‘glamorous’ life as a TV producer and always wanted to go see her in LA. Alana, for her part, was happy to let her sister deal with earthquakes and three-hour traffic jams.
“Don’t get him started on planes,” warned Daniel. “It’s a topic near and dear to Jack’s heart.”
Jack gave his partner a slightly annoyed look. “Please. I have to get you home before you fall asleep against the wall.”
“Thanks again for watching Zelda,” said Daniel, ignoring Jack’s last remark altogether. “We really appreciate it.”
“Yeah. I read some horror stories about kennels, so I’d rather not go that route.” Jack scooped up the bag of dog food and her bed before handing Daniel the leash and bag of toys.
“Did she behave?” Daniel asked between yawns.
“Yes. We all get along well, except the cat of course.” Mocha objected on principle to the presence of a dog. He also objected to her habit of scaring away the birds he might have otherwise stalked.
“Naturally.”
“Thanks for the camel,” said Kelly.
“Sure. ‘Night ladies, and thanks again.” With that, Jack shepherded Daniel and Zelda out the door.
“Next driving lesson, I’ll have to ask if they rode camels,” declared Kelly. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“I think it sounds painful.” Alana tried not to crush her daughter’s dreams, though, so she added, “How about you ride a camel some day and tell me?”
*****
Daniel had upgraded to a digital camera before their trip. It had been high time, really, but outside of work he didn’t take very many pictures so he hadn’t bothered for a while. Jack had been won over by the fact that they didn’t have to tote around rolls of film. Plus, he could check to make sure that the picture where it looked like he was petting the Sphinx came out just right. Now Daniel was online ordering prints; he made sure to order an extra copy of Jack’s Sphinx-petting photo to send to Aunt Kate.
Once the national news was done Jack shut off the TV. “Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“You know how you were talking about Camulus?”
“Yes,” answered Daniel, wondering where this was headed. On the way home from work he’d mentioned the temple to Camulus that SG-14 had found while he and Jack were in Egypt.
“I was thinking. He was a Celtic god, supposedly, right?”
“Yes.”
“The Irish were Celts.”
“I’m not sure past tense is entirely appropriate, but yes.” In the interest of seeing where Jack was going with this, Daniel didn’t delve into the persistence of Celtic cultural influences.
“Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. What if they weren’t regular snakes? What if he fought the Goa’uld?”
Daniel mulled this over. Many people thought that ‘snakes’ was a metaphoric reference to pagan religions. On the other hand, if pagan religions were in fact worshipping the Goa’uld, and assuming of course that at some point someone in ancient Ireland realized the parasitic nature of the Goa’uld… “It’s impossible to be sure without evidence, but you could be on to something.”
Jack was pleased with himself. Daniel had to admit, he was impressed as well. “It’s a very interesting theory, Jack. We’ll keep it in mind.” ‘We’ being his department, of course. “I’ll be sure to give you credit when we talk about it at work.”
At that his partner made a little face. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest that nobody at SGC bought into his dumb act for a minute and hadn’t for years, but Jack cut him off. “Not that one. The one where I still think it’s all lies and fairy tales.”
“Why does that matter?” he asked warily.
“Keeps the reports shorter.”
That was fair enough. Now it was Daniel’s turn to be a bit smug. “Still, I’ve been a good influence on you.”
“Yeah, well, this stuff saved our asses enough.” Then he hastened to add, “Don’t expect this to be a regular event.”
Daniel just chuckled. “So, what inspired this?”
His partner shrugged. “All that stuff about Camulus. I heard the whole snake-driving story a lot when I was a kid. It was one of my grandmother’s favorites.”
“You never cease to amaze, Jack.” That was one of the things Daniel loved about him.
“I try.”
“The ancient Irish would have had to recognize the true nature of the Goa’uld.”
“All it takes is a couple of people seeing one take a new host.”
“True,” mused Daniel. “It really is an interesting idea. Although it casts St. Patrick in a very different light.”
“Less preacher, more freedom fighter,” agreed Jack. “But it kinda makes sense. I mean, people have been mixing wars and religion for a long time.”
“And supposing he truly believed in Christianity,” an assumption Daniel went with because he had no reason to think otherwise, “the Goa’uld wouldn’t take kindly to someone trying to erode their power base.”
“Next thing you know, you’ve got a holy war.”
Daniel had never seen anything particularly holy about war. It was notably hypocritical in Christianity. The Assyrians, for example, had incorporated cruelty into their religion much more seamlessly. That was hard to do with such a nonviolent deity as Jesus. But anyone could twist religion for their own purposes. And he firmly believed that, holy or not, sending the Goa’uld packing was a worthy cause.
“If this is true,” he told Jack, “I’d be much more interested in celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.”
Jack’s laughter rang through the living room.
*****
Generally, Jack didn’t bother watching when Daniel brought home a foreign film. Most of the time he just tuned those movies out. Once in a while Daniel would pick out a Spanish movie he thought Jack would like, and that was okay if nobody spoke too quickly. Daniel timed his German movie rentals to coincide with Jack’s trips to Washington, because Jack knew enough German to sometimes get interested but not enough to keep up with everything that was said, and Daniel got annoyed when he kept interrupting to ask for translations.
This time it was an Israeli movie rented for the express purpose of giving Daniel’s Hebrew some practice. Jack didn’t speak a word of Hebrew other than ‘shalom.’ His language skills had been learned out of necessity - the Air Force had even sent him to intensive Spanish classes - and the Israelis took care of their own military. With Mossad, Israel didn’t need much help in the Special Ops department. Jack had worked with a Mossad operative once, and that man was intense.
Jack sat back in his recliner with the latest Newsweek and National Geographic, letting the chattering of Daniel’s movie fade into background noise. It had been a good day. He’d finally caught up on his backlog of work from vacation, so he was back down to needing two of him instead of three. Then he’d taken Kelly out for her second night driving lesson, and that had gone well. Colorado Springs was down a squirrel now, but there were plenty more. Kelly handled the situation alright, which was the important thing. She’d fought her instinct to slam on the brakes and kept moving, just as she should.
“I want to go dancing,” announced Daniel suddenly. Jack looked up and found the movie frozen in some kind of club scene.
“I suck at dancing.” He had even before his knee problems.
“I don’t care.”
Suspecting this was going to take a while, Jack put down his magazine. “You don’t care if I embarrass you with my lack of dancing skills?”
“You won’t.”
Jack wasn’t so sure about this. “Daniel, I-”
“I didn’t date much,” continued Daniel. “And never anyone who would go dancing.”
“Never?” Okay, he couldn’t really picture Sarah Gardner dancing. But surely there must have been someone. There had been a college boyfriend - didn’t everyone go dancing in college?
“Never.”
“Oh,” said Jack. He could see dancing in his imminent future.
“Sam and I were supposed to go once, but then we went to Kelowna.”
Jack pushed those horrible memories away and focused on the positive. Maybe he could still get out of this by having Daniel go dancing with Sam. Better late than never, right?
“I want to know what it’s like.” Before Jack could even suggest Sam, Daniel added, “And from what I understand, it’s more fun because of the sexual energy. So don’t go trying to weasel out of this.”
With a resigned sigh, he agreed. “Alright. We’ll go dancing. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I found a decent-looking gay club.” Naturally, Daniel had done his research. “That way people won’t be staring at us.”
Jack had never been to a gay club. That sort of thing tended to happen when you didn’t realize you were bi until your early fifties. But he figured his partner had a point. Colorado Springs was not known for its open-minded, liberal population. Besides, once Daniel’s mind was made up, it was pretty much an exercise in futility to keep arguing with him.
“Can we at least go on a slow night?” he asked. That way, he could at least embarrass himself in front of less people.
“That’s fine. Thanks, cariad.”
Jack was going to remark that Daniel shouldn’t thank him just yet, pre-dancing embarrassment, but then changed his mind when he saw Daniel’s face. Daniel was thanking him for understanding why this mattered, not just for going along.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’ll pick up the ice packs.”
*****
Sam caught up with Jack and Daniel in the parking lot. This wasn’t hard, because they were moving a bit slowly. Jack was favoring his weak knee, Daniel was favoring his weak foot, and they were both attempting to hide this behind a nonchalant, leisurely pace.
“How was dancing?” she asked.
“We might have overdone it,” admitted Daniel.
Sam wasn’t the least bit surprised. They both put in the time to stay in good shape, but a night of dancing worked a lot of different muscles and neither of them was known for doing anything halfway.
“It was a fun night,” Daniel continued, “but I’m not a very good dancer.”
Jack gave a little shrug. “What we lacked in talent, we made up for with enthusiasm.”
That could’ve been interesting to watch. “I’m sorry I missed it,” she told them.
From the expression on Jack’s face, Sam gathered that he was glad she hadn’t been there as an audience. He was probably afraid she would have brought her camera. One incident where she took a less-than-flattering picture of him, almost four years ago, and he’d been leery of her camera ever since. And she’d been helping Daniel photograph a collection of statues, not trying to get blackmail material. Sheesh. Sometimes, Jack could be a bit paranoid.
“You wouldn’t exactly have fit in with the clientele,” said Daniel diplomatically.
“I wouldn’t have to worry about creepy stalkers,” she countered. There were several good reasons she wasn’t into bars or clubs, and creeps who didn’t understand ‘no’ were high on the list.
Daniel conceded, “Probably not.”
“How’s that new gadget?” asked Jack as they approached the check-in. Evidently he didn’t want to discuss dancing in front of the SFs. Sam didn’t blame him a bit, especially with the somewhat sensitive gay club factor.
“Still frustrating.” In fact, she’d gone so far as to ask Jack to hold it the day before, thinking it could be a new form of Ancient technology. But the ‘invisible table’ SG-8 talked about failed to appear. It sounded like forcefield technology, which was highly interesting from both a physics and tactical standpoint. Sam was running out of ideas.
“And you checked to make sure the battery isn’t dead.”
“It’s hard to be sure with alien tech, but the power source seems operational. I even hooked it up to my mini naquadah generator.”
Daniel gave her a sympathetic look. He understood the frustration and the way she railed against giving up. They’d discussed it more than once over the years. It bothered Daniel when there was a language that he (or his staff) couldn’t translate, or a solitary monument where he couldn’t find any other sign of intelligent life. In those instances he felt as vexed and insignificant as she did when she couldn’t crack a technological puzzle.
Rationally, she knew that nobody could understand everything, especially when considering technology from planets that were generations ahead of Earth. That somehow failed to make her feel much better.
Her friends knew that she didn’t need platitudes, even well-intentioned ones. (Not long after she and Jack moved to a first-name basis, she got a bit snappish about one such remark. He’d yet to repeat the mistake.) She didn’t want to be reminded that nobody was omnipotent and that everyone had to leave something for those who followed. She particularly didn’t want to hear about Einstein’s failings.
Jack simply said, “Good luck.”
Daniel offered her a chance to vent if necessary by remarking, “My door is always open.” It wasn’t in a literal sense. Daniel actually had a system with his door. The wider open it was, the more willing he was to be disturbed. If the door was completely shut, he didn’t want to be interrupted except for something urgent. But Daniel always had time for the people he cared about, barring a life-or-death situation.
That was what friends were for.