Story: What We Call Normal Part III
When Daniel got home from SGC, Jack was positively glowering at something on the coffee table. He wasn’t surprised to see, upon closer examination, that the scorned object was a glasses case. Jack had, after all, left work early for an optometrist appointment.
Jack took another swig of beer and managed to keep scowling at the glasses case. Daniel went over to the couch and sat down next to him. “You don’t mind glasses on me,” he pointed out after a silent moment.
“That’s different.”
“Oh?”
“On you, they’re normal. On me, it’s a sign of aging. They’re damned reading glasses, Daniel!”
He shrugged and reached for the case. “Let me see.”
Jack’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t refuse. Daniel carefully set them on his partner’s face. “I think they make you look distinguished.”
“Nice try.”
“Really.” They weren’t bad at all - a sleek pair of glasses that he didn’t think would take him long to get used to seeing.
“They make me look old.”
“Better than a sarcophagus.”
“Barely,” huffed Jack.
Daniel kissed him. “You’re sexy with or without glasses, cariad.”
“I’m -”
He cut off the protest with another kiss. “You’re mine, and I say you’re sexy.”
Jack looked at him and Daniel could see the moment where Jack’s heart melted. He loved the little moments like that, when Jack was all out of reasons to put up his gruff Air Force officer exterior.
“I am yours,” admitted his lover. “And I think we should eat so we’ll be fueled up to take full advantage of that.”
Daniel chuckled and got up. “Let’s try that jar of korma sauce.”
“Rice?”
“Yes.”
While Jack pulled out the rice cooker, Daniel pulled out the korma sauce and read the suggested cooking directions for chicken korma. He was just reaching for a pan when he heard Jack pouring rice awfully fast.
“Damn.”
He turned around to find Jack standing beside of a pile of rice, holding an empty bag. It was quite an amusing sight, and he had to laugh.
“I grabbed the wrong end,” explained Jack, who proceeded to make the mistake of moving. Next thing Daniel knew, his partner was lying on the floor amidst a rice puddle. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”
His attempt to stifle further laughter was an exercise in futility. Jack was indignant, glaring at the rice (and Daniel) as he stood up.
Finally making himself useful, Daniel grabbed the dustpan and little broom out from under the sink and started sweeping up the rice. Jack’s fall had scattered it further.
“Huh,” said Jack.
“What?”
“Just found my silver lining.”
“Oh?”
“Great view of your ass.”
He purposely stuck his butt out as he moved. “We could eat later.”
Jack pulled him up, spilling the rice that had made it into the dustpan. “We can vacuum later too.”
Daniel dropped the empty dustpan and broom so he could reach around and play with Jack’s hair. “You have a point.”
“Uh-huh.” Then Jack kissed him, and Daniel was in full agreement that the spilled rice could wait. It could wait a very long time, for all he cared.
*****
The three hours that he’d been waiting for Daniel to wake up had been among the longer hours of Jack’s life. He was relieved when Daniel finally stirred. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you’ve gotta stop ending up in the infirmary so often.”
“You’re one to talk,” muttered Daniel, blinking his eyes open.
He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, both for the reassurance of touch and to keep him from trying to get up. “Don’t try to get up too fast. You took a nasty blow to the head.”
“Are -”
He knew what the rest of the question was and didn’t wait for an answer. “Carter, Teal’c and Rosnik are fine.”
“And, unlike some people,” Dr. Brightman punctuated this with a loaded stare at Jack, “they know a medical order to eat when they hear it.”
Jack ignored that and handed Daniel his glasses. He wasn’t hungry and, despite Brightman’s assurances, he refused to leave. Head injuries are bad things.
Daniel looked much better - his skin was the right color, for one thing. Now as long as his amazing brain wasn’t harmed, Jack could return to his normal breathing pattern.
“What happened?” asked Daniel.
Brightman busied herself checking Daniel over. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Running to the stargate.” Daniel frowned. “Apparently, we upset several large baboons.”
“One of them knocked you over the head,” supplied Jack, who thought that seeing Teal’c carrying a limp Daniel through the gate had taken a couple years off his life. Daniel seemed okay, though. “Teal’c said it used a big branch.”
“That explains the headache.”
Jack frowned and turned to Brightman. “I thought you had him on the good stuff?”
“It’s a low dose.”
That seemed dumb to him, but Brightman was the CMO and wouldn’t hesitate to remind him who went to med school if he questioned her. Further discussion was cut off when the rest of SG-1 returned.
“Daniel!” exclaimed Carter.
Teal’c gave Daniel one of his small, relieved smiles. “It is good to see you alert, Daniel Jackson.”
“Thanks. It’s good to be alert.”
Rosnik, trailing behind, added, “You gave us a scare.” Jack didn’t miss Rosnik’s gaze as it flickered to him and back to Daniel.
Daniel carefully touched his head. “I’ve had worse.”
Carter patted his hand. “But baboons are a new one, right?”
“I’m the one with a head injury and you’re asking me?”
Jack couldn’t help but grin. “Yep, he’s gonna be fine.”
*****
Daniel was not in a particularly good mood. His head ached, Dr. Brightman absolutely refused to let him have coffee with breakfast, and the infirmary bed was, as always, less than comfortable. The only good thing was that he’d already had a lot of visitors and it wasn’t even 1000 hours yet. Sam was trying to entertain him with a story about something funny that happened on her last date with Eddie, but it was an involved story and he wasn’t quite up to following it.
So he was pleased when Jack sauntered over and said. “Good news. I’m springing you out.”
“Really?”
“Still no coffee. She gave me a whole lecture on keeping an eye on you.”
No coffee was bad, but going home with Jack was good. And, headache aside, he didn’t feel much worse than he usually did before coffee. “Our bed is more comfortable, at least.”
The words were already out when he realized Dr. Brightman was right behind Jack. Damn, he should have known better than to try talking before coffee! Jack paused for a moment, then nodded. “Way more comfortable.”
Daniel was incredible grateful for his partner’s smooth reaction. Dr. Brightman, meanwhile, continued with her ‘unflappable medical professional’ demeanor. “Don’t jostle him in bed,” she told Jack.
“I’ll add it to the list.”
“List?” Daniel asked.
Jack nodded. “The dos and don’ts of taking care of you.”
“I’ll get you the painkillers,” offered the doctor.
When she was safely away, Daniel began, “Sorry. I -”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jack said firmly, and Daniel could tell he meant it. “Let’s go home.”
Sam stood up and broke through his daze. “Call if you feel like company.”
“Thanks.”
“Rest up, Daniel.” With that, she headed out of the infirmary, no doubt to her lab.
He was just pulling on his shirt when Dr. Brightman came back with a bottle of pills. “No more than one every four hours,” she instructed. “Call if the pain gets worse, or -”
Jack interrupted. “Or nausea, fainting, dizziness… I’ve got the list.”
She nodded. “And don’t read today. Let your body rest.”
He would never admit it, except possibly to Jack, but his head hurt too much to read anyway. “Fine. Am I allowed to have ice cream?”
“It’s not on the forbidden list,” said Jack as they headed to the door.
Dr. Brightman, fortunately, didn’t add it to the list. “Just eat it slowly. You don’t need to compound your headache with an ice cream headache.”
Since he really wanted a nice bowl of ice cream, Daniel was happy about this. If he got lucky, Jack might even go for coffee ice cream.
*****
Teal’c liked bowling. Or so he claimed; Jack sometimes wondered if what he really liked was that he always kicked everyone’s butt at bowling. Apparently, it was similar to a game played by Jaffa kids. Anyway, they were celebrating Teal’c’s birthday and he wanted to bowl. It was a few days after his actual birthday. (Or, more accurately, a few days after the best guess for his birthday; it was hard to be sure since he was born on one planet, grew up on another, and then moved to Earth.) The celebration had been postponed until Daniel was back at 100%, which to Jack’s immense relief had taken only a couple of days.
Hallowell and Rosnik had joined the four of them, though Rosnik didn’t look very relaxed. Hallowell, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease, marveling at Teal’c’s easy handling of the heaviest ball available. The biologist was a terrible bowler - his ball spent an awful lot of time in the gutters - but he was enjoying himself anyway.
Carter was the best after Teal’c and was working on teaching her boyfriend the basic physics involved in bowling. “You’re not thinking about the angle enough,” she told him.
Hallowell didn’t look too worried. “I got four pins that time.”
It was Rosnik’s turn next, and after his first roll he had two pins on one side and one on the other. That got a comment in Russian which made Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up. Jack guessed that Rosnik had a foul mouth in his native language.
Teal’c looked at the scoreboard and announced, “I am one strike away from a chicken.”
“Turkey,” corrected Carter.
Rosnik sat back down while Daniel got up for his turn. “What about poultry?” asked the Russian.
Carter explained, “If you get three consecutive strikes, it’s a turkey.”
“That is an odd choice of term.”
“It’s an odd game,” noted Jack.
“It’s making me hungry talking about chicken and turkey,” said Hallowell. Turning to Carter, he asked, “Want to share some nachos?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Just don’t get the hot salsa this time.”
Daniel knocked down eight pins. For someone who didn’t really like bowling, he wasn’t bad at it.
Carter’s phone rang. “Hi, Cassie,” she said. Carter was one of those people who had her phone set up so certain people were assigned their own ring. Jack thought the caller ID function was good enough. Apparently, the news from Cassandra wasn’t good, because Carter’s face hardened into a scowl. “He said what?”
Jack was glad Cassandra had Carter to call up for the times she needed a maternal figure. Cassie had her own apartment, but she also had Carter’s spare bedroom.
“That’s low.”
He hoped Cassandra remembered to tell any unpleasant ex-boyfriends that she had an elite group with plenty of combat experience which would not take kindly to anyone messing with her.
“What a jerk! I’m sorry, Cassie.”
Rosnik was looking at him with an expression Jack couldn’t quite place. The Russian finally explained, “You look like my father when my sister said a boy treated her with disrespect.”
“She’s a good kid who’s been through a lot,” replied Jack.
He finally placed Rosnik’s expression. It was a small renewal of personal respect. He didn’t pretend to understand exactly how that worked in Rosnik’s brain - did the Russian think only straight men got protective and paternal? That was ridiculous. Anyway, he’d given Cassie her dog and taught her to drive because Fraiser got too nervous. They had a bond thing going.
Hallowell returned with nachos and an extra large Coke just as Carter said, “Absolutely. I’ll see you Friday. Lots of chocolate, okay. Take care of yourself. Bye.”
“Who’s coming Friday?” asked Hallowell.
“Cassie.”
Daniel asked, “What happened?”
“She thought one of her classmates liked her, but he was only asking her out so she’d work with him on a project. They got an A on the project and now he’s ignoring her.” Carter’s face hardened again just summarizing the incident.
“That’s despicable,” said Daniel.
Jack cringed a little for Cassie’s sake. “What a lowlife.”
Teal’c chimed in with, “This individual lacks a sense of honor.”
“Poor kid,” agreed Hallowell.
Rosnik thought for a second. “I believe that young man is a slimeball.”
The Russian must’ve been hanging around SG-4 again. ‘Slimeball’ was one of Palmer’s favorite words. Jack nearly choked trying not to laugh.
*****
SG-1 was on another joint mission with SG-27. Commander Evans and Captain Singh, SG-27’s scientist, had decided Sam needed to look at a large machine. So far they had no idea what it did, and there was barely any writing to help. Daniel had radioed back SGC to confirm his hunch that the single symbol was Furling. He’d have been more excited if he had more than one symbol to work with, but Nyan had checked the archives and confirmed that the character was definitely Furling.
On the other hand, he thought his failure to perform a linguistic miracle with one symbol might finally break down the case of hero worship that Julia MacDonald had for him. She was a good anthropologist in her own right and an asset for SG-27. Besides, hero worship didn’t sit well with Daniel.
The mysterious machine was made of metal - some of it unknown, which excited Sam and Rosnik to no end - so after failing to be of any help the first day, Daniel had requested metal detectors from SGC. Jack had quickly agreed to have Siler send them through. The second day, therefore, saw him, Teal’c, Julia, and Major Ashburn trying to locate other artifacts. Daniel suspected Ashburn was more interested in making sure Julia didn’t get into any trouble. She had precious little military training, the same way Daniel had when he first joined SG-1.
Julia looked over to where Sam, Rosnik, Evans, and Singh were examining the device. “I haven’t seen anyone so excited since my brother found out Doctor Who was coming back,” she said in her lowlands Scot brogue.
“Never mind Doctor Who, I’m starting to feel like we’re living Torchwood.”
Daniel had no idea what Ashburn was talking about, but assuming it was a TV show he idly wondered if Jack and Teal’c would enjoy critiquing it the way they did action movies. He’d have to remember that around Christmas, since Teal’c was ridiculously hard to shop for.
“Daniel,” came Sam’s voice over his radio, “another symbol just appeared on the device.”
“I’m on my way.” Actually, all four of them were on their way. Julia was naturally excited to see another Furling symbol. Ashburn and Teal’c didn’t especially enjoy metal detecting and were happy enough to take a break.
Walking at a decent clip, they were back to the machine in a couple of minutes. Daniel pulled out his camcorder and got a good shot of the two symbols, the second just to the left and below the first. “What did you do that got this to appear?” he asked.
“Tightened a screw,” replied Singh. “More or less.”
“This entire machine could be covered in writing.” Not for the first time, he wished he’d been able to spend more time in the meeting room on Heliopolis. With more time, and now since he had at least some basic knowledge of Ancient, he could make headway in translating Furling.
Jack said he spent too much time thinking about ‘what-ifs.’ In this case, Daniel had to remind himself of that. It did him no good at the moment. Although he wondered: if the Prometheus visited Heliopolis, would anything be left?
He doubted the Pentagon would be willing to find out. Focusing on the task at hand, he put down the camcorder and leaned in for a closer look. “Amazing.”
Rosnik and Singh were discussing how it might be scientifically possible for the writing to just appear. Sam peered at the machine’s surface carefully. “I wonder if we can make more visible.”
“Are there any more loose screws?” asked Julia. She had out a pad of paper and was sketching the second symbol. Daniel preferred the camcorder, but she insisted that drawing personalized the experience. Having very little artistic ability himself, he was in no position to understand, but it seemed to work for her.
“It wasn’t quite that easy,” said Sam. Daniel wasn’t at all surprised.
“Was it making this noise before?” He didn’t remember the low buzzing sound.
Teal’c informed him, “It was not.”
“It’s getting louder. Maybe we should stand back,” suggested Sam. It was a good idea and they all hurried back. Of course, there was no way of knowing what a safe distance was, but they’d only gone a few yards when Sam stopped.
Daniel turned around and saw that the machine had melted down into a puddle of liquid so round there had to be some kind of barrier. Sam, Singh, Evans, and Rosnik raced over to the puddle, bemoaning the apparent loss of the Furling device and wondering how this could’ve happened.
Teal’c eyed the puddle critically. “I believe we will be forced to endure many jokes about this from O’Neill.”
“Probably,” agreed Daniel. Melting down an alien machine was just the kind of thing Jack would enjoy bringing up a few times.
Sam’s enthusiasm hadn’t been dampened by the meltdown. “This is unbelievable. It’s already completely solid!”
Only Sam, he thought, could find something so fascinating after ruining the device they were trying to study.
*****
It was a great weekend to spend at the cabin. Jack hadn’t caught any fish yet, but he didn’t really care. Daniel, who had a low tolerance for fishing, was reading a book. It pleased Jack that his lover appreciated the serenity of the cabin, even if he rarely fished. The previous night they’d sat out on the dock and enjoyed the stars without any moonlight. It was nice to relax, far away from the rush of their everyday lives.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way the Pentagon would agree to send Prometheus to Heliopolis.”
Why Daniel brought that up, he didn’t know. “What are the chances of finding big honkin’ space guns?”
“Since it was a peaceful meeting place, slim to none.”
“Then no.”
“I know,” sighed Daniel. “The Pentagon doesn’t care about ‘meaning of life stuff.’”
“What if this is the meaning of life?”
That earned him a disbelieving stare. “You’re saying that fishing is the meaning of life.”
He wasn’t, although if it was Jack wouldn’t have minded a bit. “Not just fishing. Saving the planet, buying Girl Scout cookies, staying up too late on the roof watching a meteor shower, getting our butts kicked by Teal’c at bowling, burning a pot roast, sex… all of it. What if the meaning of life is as easy as living?”
Daniel considered that, which was why Jack told him in the first place. He knew that his boyfriend would at least give the idea thought. “I’m not sure that’s really easy.”
Fair enough. Living wasn’t always easy, as he knew well from personal experience. “Maybe not, but it’s a lot closer to home.”
“True. And if nothing else, it’s nice to think there was a point to the pot roast incident.”
“Getting the updated Chinese take-out menu wasn’t enough?” That, and Jack had pretty much decided that he was too old to improve his cooking skills.
“No.”
There was a fish nibbling on his bait. He waited until it was a solid bite, then started reeling in his catch.
“Got something?” asked Daniel.
“Yep.”
Actually catching fish was just a bonus when fishing. That was probably why Teal’c hated fishing. Well, that and the way the mosquitoes swarmed around him. Jack had always enjoyed it, because for once results didn’t matter, which never happened in the military. For all that he played up his simpleton act because it gave him an edge to be underestimated, Jack did like the simple pleasures in life.
“Not one of the edible fish,” remarked Daniel.
“Sunfish. Not worth it.” He never understood how Daniel could remember dozens of languages, myths, and histories, but fail to remember which fish species was which. While Jack fished his lover was reading a book about Aboriginal Australian creation stories, which was relaxing in Daniel’s world. No doubt he’d remember them if SG-1 ever encountered a planet populated by descendents of the native Australians.
He tossed the sunfish back, glad that they weren’t relying on the pond to supply any meals. Really, that would add too much stress to a vacation weekend.
*****
Jack had fallen asleep immediately, worn out by a long session of lovemaking, but Daniel needed a couple of minutes. He usually did after topping, because his mind needed to wind down from paying attention to Jack’s pleasure. As always, his post-coital thoughts were scattered but kept coming back to Jack.
Moonlight was coming through the blinds in slits that made stripes of his partner’s hair gleam. It looked like something out of a poem and transfixed Daniel momentarily.
Jack never used the word ‘partner.’ He said it sounded like they worked at the same law firm. Daniel liked it because it encompassed how vital Jack was to him.
A sarcophagus was a strange thing, he reflected. Ba’al’s had taken years off Jack’s knees and you couldn’t tell where the Goa’uld’s knife had killed him, but it left his old scars. Daniel traced the ragged line on the back of Jack’s shoulder. Their first few weeks together, he kept finding new scars, and Jack would give a brief explanation. The shoulder was, “Shrapnel, Iraq.” On his right side just below his lowest rib was, “Bullet grazed me in Czechoslovakia.” Some of the scars, of course, Daniel recognized, like the staff blast on his leg from Netu.
The scars reminded Daniel of just how much Jack had been through, and how devoted he was to protecting his country and planet. Daniel didn’t always agree with the politics involved, but the scars always made him realize, again, that Jack was a protector, a hero.
Jack had once admitted that Daniel’s scars (much fewer in number than his own) reminded him of the times he’d failed to protect Daniel. Except the small one on Daniel’s knee where he had, at age seven, found a piece of pottery on his parents’ dig when he fell on it. Even at seven, he’d felt terrible for bleeding on an artifact, although his parents were only concerned about him. Nobody had been as concerned about his wounds again until Jack. But without the experiences that gave them scars, neither of them would be the same people.
Outside the cabin frogs and crickets were making a peaceful background chorus. Times like this he could understand why Jack had claimed, so long ago, that the Goa’uld wanted Earth for Minnesota. Not that the Goa’uld could appreciate the serenity of the cabin. Not even the Tok’ra would, Daniel suspected. Although there was the possibility that the Tok’ra might enjoy peace and relaxation once the galaxy was free from their evil brethren. It was a moot point, though, because Jacob Carter and Selmak were the only Tok’ra that Jack would’ve let near his cabin, and they were dead.
In his sleep, Jack rolled over so his body was pressed against Daniel’s. He was quite a sight, debauched and completely relaxed. Low on his neck, where it would be covered by his collar at work, Daniel had given him a small hickey.
Before Jack, it had been so long since he’d had a steady, loving sex life that Daniel had half forgotten how fulfilling it was. But then, being with Jack had changed his life for the better in a lot of ways.
Happy and content, Daniel fell asleep to the sound of frogs, crickets, and Jack breathing.
continued: ent-alter-ego.livejournal.com/7292.html
Jack took another swig of beer and managed to keep scowling at the glasses case. Daniel went over to the couch and sat down next to him. “You don’t mind glasses on me,” he pointed out after a silent moment.
“That’s different.”
“Oh?”
“On you, they’re normal. On me, it’s a sign of aging. They’re damned reading glasses, Daniel!”
He shrugged and reached for the case. “Let me see.”
Jack’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t refuse. Daniel carefully set them on his partner’s face. “I think they make you look distinguished.”
“Nice try.”
“Really.” They weren’t bad at all - a sleek pair of glasses that he didn’t think would take him long to get used to seeing.
“They make me look old.”
“Better than a sarcophagus.”
“Barely,” huffed Jack.
Daniel kissed him. “You’re sexy with or without glasses, cariad.”
“I’m -”
He cut off the protest with another kiss. “You’re mine, and I say you’re sexy.”
Jack looked at him and Daniel could see the moment where Jack’s heart melted. He loved the little moments like that, when Jack was all out of reasons to put up his gruff Air Force officer exterior.
“I am yours,” admitted his lover. “And I think we should eat so we’ll be fueled up to take full advantage of that.”
Daniel chuckled and got up. “Let’s try that jar of korma sauce.”
“Rice?”
“Yes.”
While Jack pulled out the rice cooker, Daniel pulled out the korma sauce and read the suggested cooking directions for chicken korma. He was just reaching for a pan when he heard Jack pouring rice awfully fast.
“Damn.”
He turned around to find Jack standing beside of a pile of rice, holding an empty bag. It was quite an amusing sight, and he had to laugh.
“I grabbed the wrong end,” explained Jack, who proceeded to make the mistake of moving. Next thing Daniel knew, his partner was lying on the floor amidst a rice puddle. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”
His attempt to stifle further laughter was an exercise in futility. Jack was indignant, glaring at the rice (and Daniel) as he stood up.
Finally making himself useful, Daniel grabbed the dustpan and little broom out from under the sink and started sweeping up the rice. Jack’s fall had scattered it further.
“Huh,” said Jack.
“What?”
“Just found my silver lining.”
“Oh?”
“Great view of your ass.”
He purposely stuck his butt out as he moved. “We could eat later.”
Jack pulled him up, spilling the rice that had made it into the dustpan. “We can vacuum later too.”
Daniel dropped the empty dustpan and broom so he could reach around and play with Jack’s hair. “You have a point.”
“Uh-huh.” Then Jack kissed him, and Daniel was in full agreement that the spilled rice could wait. It could wait a very long time, for all he cared.
*****
The three hours that he’d been waiting for Daniel to wake up had been among the longer hours of Jack’s life. He was relieved when Daniel finally stirred. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you’ve gotta stop ending up in the infirmary so often.”
“You’re one to talk,” muttered Daniel, blinking his eyes open.
He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, both for the reassurance of touch and to keep him from trying to get up. “Don’t try to get up too fast. You took a nasty blow to the head.”
“Are -”
He knew what the rest of the question was and didn’t wait for an answer. “Carter, Teal’c and Rosnik are fine.”
“And, unlike some people,” Dr. Brightman punctuated this with a loaded stare at Jack, “they know a medical order to eat when they hear it.”
Jack ignored that and handed Daniel his glasses. He wasn’t hungry and, despite Brightman’s assurances, he refused to leave. Head injuries are bad things.
Daniel looked much better - his skin was the right color, for one thing. Now as long as his amazing brain wasn’t harmed, Jack could return to his normal breathing pattern.
“What happened?” asked Daniel.
Brightman busied herself checking Daniel over. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Running to the stargate.” Daniel frowned. “Apparently, we upset several large baboons.”
“One of them knocked you over the head,” supplied Jack, who thought that seeing Teal’c carrying a limp Daniel through the gate had taken a couple years off his life. Daniel seemed okay, though. “Teal’c said it used a big branch.”
“That explains the headache.”
Jack frowned and turned to Brightman. “I thought you had him on the good stuff?”
“It’s a low dose.”
That seemed dumb to him, but Brightman was the CMO and wouldn’t hesitate to remind him who went to med school if he questioned her. Further discussion was cut off when the rest of SG-1 returned.
“Daniel!” exclaimed Carter.
Teal’c gave Daniel one of his small, relieved smiles. “It is good to see you alert, Daniel Jackson.”
“Thanks. It’s good to be alert.”
Rosnik, trailing behind, added, “You gave us a scare.” Jack didn’t miss Rosnik’s gaze as it flickered to him and back to Daniel.
Daniel carefully touched his head. “I’ve had worse.”
Carter patted his hand. “But baboons are a new one, right?”
“I’m the one with a head injury and you’re asking me?”
Jack couldn’t help but grin. “Yep, he’s gonna be fine.”
*****
Daniel was not in a particularly good mood. His head ached, Dr. Brightman absolutely refused to let him have coffee with breakfast, and the infirmary bed was, as always, less than comfortable. The only good thing was that he’d already had a lot of visitors and it wasn’t even 1000 hours yet. Sam was trying to entertain him with a story about something funny that happened on her last date with Eddie, but it was an involved story and he wasn’t quite up to following it.
So he was pleased when Jack sauntered over and said. “Good news. I’m springing you out.”
“Really?”
“Still no coffee. She gave me a whole lecture on keeping an eye on you.”
No coffee was bad, but going home with Jack was good. And, headache aside, he didn’t feel much worse than he usually did before coffee. “Our bed is more comfortable, at least.”
The words were already out when he realized Dr. Brightman was right behind Jack. Damn, he should have known better than to try talking before coffee! Jack paused for a moment, then nodded. “Way more comfortable.”
Daniel was incredible grateful for his partner’s smooth reaction. Dr. Brightman, meanwhile, continued with her ‘unflappable medical professional’ demeanor. “Don’t jostle him in bed,” she told Jack.
“I’ll add it to the list.”
“List?” Daniel asked.
Jack nodded. “The dos and don’ts of taking care of you.”
“I’ll get you the painkillers,” offered the doctor.
When she was safely away, Daniel began, “Sorry. I -”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jack said firmly, and Daniel could tell he meant it. “Let’s go home.”
Sam stood up and broke through his daze. “Call if you feel like company.”
“Thanks.”
“Rest up, Daniel.” With that, she headed out of the infirmary, no doubt to her lab.
He was just pulling on his shirt when Dr. Brightman came back with a bottle of pills. “No more than one every four hours,” she instructed. “Call if the pain gets worse, or -”
Jack interrupted. “Or nausea, fainting, dizziness… I’ve got the list.”
She nodded. “And don’t read today. Let your body rest.”
He would never admit it, except possibly to Jack, but his head hurt too much to read anyway. “Fine. Am I allowed to have ice cream?”
“It’s not on the forbidden list,” said Jack as they headed to the door.
Dr. Brightman, fortunately, didn’t add it to the list. “Just eat it slowly. You don’t need to compound your headache with an ice cream headache.”
Since he really wanted a nice bowl of ice cream, Daniel was happy about this. If he got lucky, Jack might even go for coffee ice cream.
*****
Teal’c liked bowling. Or so he claimed; Jack sometimes wondered if what he really liked was that he always kicked everyone’s butt at bowling. Apparently, it was similar to a game played by Jaffa kids. Anyway, they were celebrating Teal’c’s birthday and he wanted to bowl. It was a few days after his actual birthday. (Or, more accurately, a few days after the best guess for his birthday; it was hard to be sure since he was born on one planet, grew up on another, and then moved to Earth.) The celebration had been postponed until Daniel was back at 100%, which to Jack’s immense relief had taken only a couple of days.
Hallowell and Rosnik had joined the four of them, though Rosnik didn’t look very relaxed. Hallowell, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease, marveling at Teal’c’s easy handling of the heaviest ball available. The biologist was a terrible bowler - his ball spent an awful lot of time in the gutters - but he was enjoying himself anyway.
Carter was the best after Teal’c and was working on teaching her boyfriend the basic physics involved in bowling. “You’re not thinking about the angle enough,” she told him.
Hallowell didn’t look too worried. “I got four pins that time.”
It was Rosnik’s turn next, and after his first roll he had two pins on one side and one on the other. That got a comment in Russian which made Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up. Jack guessed that Rosnik had a foul mouth in his native language.
Teal’c looked at the scoreboard and announced, “I am one strike away from a chicken.”
“Turkey,” corrected Carter.
Rosnik sat back down while Daniel got up for his turn. “What about poultry?” asked the Russian.
Carter explained, “If you get three consecutive strikes, it’s a turkey.”
“That is an odd choice of term.”
“It’s an odd game,” noted Jack.
“It’s making me hungry talking about chicken and turkey,” said Hallowell. Turning to Carter, he asked, “Want to share some nachos?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Just don’t get the hot salsa this time.”
Daniel knocked down eight pins. For someone who didn’t really like bowling, he wasn’t bad at it.
Carter’s phone rang. “Hi, Cassie,” she said. Carter was one of those people who had her phone set up so certain people were assigned their own ring. Jack thought the caller ID function was good enough. Apparently, the news from Cassandra wasn’t good, because Carter’s face hardened into a scowl. “He said what?”
Jack was glad Cassandra had Carter to call up for the times she needed a maternal figure. Cassie had her own apartment, but she also had Carter’s spare bedroom.
“That’s low.”
He hoped Cassandra remembered to tell any unpleasant ex-boyfriends that she had an elite group with plenty of combat experience which would not take kindly to anyone messing with her.
“What a jerk! I’m sorry, Cassie.”
Rosnik was looking at him with an expression Jack couldn’t quite place. The Russian finally explained, “You look like my father when my sister said a boy treated her with disrespect.”
“She’s a good kid who’s been through a lot,” replied Jack.
He finally placed Rosnik’s expression. It was a small renewal of personal respect. He didn’t pretend to understand exactly how that worked in Rosnik’s brain - did the Russian think only straight men got protective and paternal? That was ridiculous. Anyway, he’d given Cassie her dog and taught her to drive because Fraiser got too nervous. They had a bond thing going.
Hallowell returned with nachos and an extra large Coke just as Carter said, “Absolutely. I’ll see you Friday. Lots of chocolate, okay. Take care of yourself. Bye.”
“Who’s coming Friday?” asked Hallowell.
“Cassie.”
Daniel asked, “What happened?”
“She thought one of her classmates liked her, but he was only asking her out so she’d work with him on a project. They got an A on the project and now he’s ignoring her.” Carter’s face hardened again just summarizing the incident.
“That’s despicable,” said Daniel.
Jack cringed a little for Cassie’s sake. “What a lowlife.”
Teal’c chimed in with, “This individual lacks a sense of honor.”
“Poor kid,” agreed Hallowell.
Rosnik thought for a second. “I believe that young man is a slimeball.”
The Russian must’ve been hanging around SG-4 again. ‘Slimeball’ was one of Palmer’s favorite words. Jack nearly choked trying not to laugh.
*****
SG-1 was on another joint mission with SG-27. Commander Evans and Captain Singh, SG-27’s scientist, had decided Sam needed to look at a large machine. So far they had no idea what it did, and there was barely any writing to help. Daniel had radioed back SGC to confirm his hunch that the single symbol was Furling. He’d have been more excited if he had more than one symbol to work with, but Nyan had checked the archives and confirmed that the character was definitely Furling.
On the other hand, he thought his failure to perform a linguistic miracle with one symbol might finally break down the case of hero worship that Julia MacDonald had for him. She was a good anthropologist in her own right and an asset for SG-27. Besides, hero worship didn’t sit well with Daniel.
The mysterious machine was made of metal - some of it unknown, which excited Sam and Rosnik to no end - so after failing to be of any help the first day, Daniel had requested metal detectors from SGC. Jack had quickly agreed to have Siler send them through. The second day, therefore, saw him, Teal’c, Julia, and Major Ashburn trying to locate other artifacts. Daniel suspected Ashburn was more interested in making sure Julia didn’t get into any trouble. She had precious little military training, the same way Daniel had when he first joined SG-1.
Julia looked over to where Sam, Rosnik, Evans, and Singh were examining the device. “I haven’t seen anyone so excited since my brother found out Doctor Who was coming back,” she said in her lowlands Scot brogue.
“Never mind Doctor Who, I’m starting to feel like we’re living Torchwood.”
Daniel had no idea what Ashburn was talking about, but assuming it was a TV show he idly wondered if Jack and Teal’c would enjoy critiquing it the way they did action movies. He’d have to remember that around Christmas, since Teal’c was ridiculously hard to shop for.
“Daniel,” came Sam’s voice over his radio, “another symbol just appeared on the device.”
“I’m on my way.” Actually, all four of them were on their way. Julia was naturally excited to see another Furling symbol. Ashburn and Teal’c didn’t especially enjoy metal detecting and were happy enough to take a break.
Walking at a decent clip, they were back to the machine in a couple of minutes. Daniel pulled out his camcorder and got a good shot of the two symbols, the second just to the left and below the first. “What did you do that got this to appear?” he asked.
“Tightened a screw,” replied Singh. “More or less.”
“This entire machine could be covered in writing.” Not for the first time, he wished he’d been able to spend more time in the meeting room on Heliopolis. With more time, and now since he had at least some basic knowledge of Ancient, he could make headway in translating Furling.
Jack said he spent too much time thinking about ‘what-ifs.’ In this case, Daniel had to remind himself of that. It did him no good at the moment. Although he wondered: if the Prometheus visited Heliopolis, would anything be left?
He doubted the Pentagon would be willing to find out. Focusing on the task at hand, he put down the camcorder and leaned in for a closer look. “Amazing.”
Rosnik and Singh were discussing how it might be scientifically possible for the writing to just appear. Sam peered at the machine’s surface carefully. “I wonder if we can make more visible.”
“Are there any more loose screws?” asked Julia. She had out a pad of paper and was sketching the second symbol. Daniel preferred the camcorder, but she insisted that drawing personalized the experience. Having very little artistic ability himself, he was in no position to understand, but it seemed to work for her.
“It wasn’t quite that easy,” said Sam. Daniel wasn’t at all surprised.
“Was it making this noise before?” He didn’t remember the low buzzing sound.
Teal’c informed him, “It was not.”
“It’s getting louder. Maybe we should stand back,” suggested Sam. It was a good idea and they all hurried back. Of course, there was no way of knowing what a safe distance was, but they’d only gone a few yards when Sam stopped.
Daniel turned around and saw that the machine had melted down into a puddle of liquid so round there had to be some kind of barrier. Sam, Singh, Evans, and Rosnik raced over to the puddle, bemoaning the apparent loss of the Furling device and wondering how this could’ve happened.
Teal’c eyed the puddle critically. “I believe we will be forced to endure many jokes about this from O’Neill.”
“Probably,” agreed Daniel. Melting down an alien machine was just the kind of thing Jack would enjoy bringing up a few times.
Sam’s enthusiasm hadn’t been dampened by the meltdown. “This is unbelievable. It’s already completely solid!”
Only Sam, he thought, could find something so fascinating after ruining the device they were trying to study.
*****
It was a great weekend to spend at the cabin. Jack hadn’t caught any fish yet, but he didn’t really care. Daniel, who had a low tolerance for fishing, was reading a book. It pleased Jack that his lover appreciated the serenity of the cabin, even if he rarely fished. The previous night they’d sat out on the dock and enjoyed the stars without any moonlight. It was nice to relax, far away from the rush of their everyday lives.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way the Pentagon would agree to send Prometheus to Heliopolis.”
Why Daniel brought that up, he didn’t know. “What are the chances of finding big honkin’ space guns?”
“Since it was a peaceful meeting place, slim to none.”
“Then no.”
“I know,” sighed Daniel. “The Pentagon doesn’t care about ‘meaning of life stuff.’”
“What if this is the meaning of life?”
That earned him a disbelieving stare. “You’re saying that fishing is the meaning of life.”
He wasn’t, although if it was Jack wouldn’t have minded a bit. “Not just fishing. Saving the planet, buying Girl Scout cookies, staying up too late on the roof watching a meteor shower, getting our butts kicked by Teal’c at bowling, burning a pot roast, sex… all of it. What if the meaning of life is as easy as living?”
Daniel considered that, which was why Jack told him in the first place. He knew that his boyfriend would at least give the idea thought. “I’m not sure that’s really easy.”
Fair enough. Living wasn’t always easy, as he knew well from personal experience. “Maybe not, but it’s a lot closer to home.”
“True. And if nothing else, it’s nice to think there was a point to the pot roast incident.”
“Getting the updated Chinese take-out menu wasn’t enough?” That, and Jack had pretty much decided that he was too old to improve his cooking skills.
“No.”
There was a fish nibbling on his bait. He waited until it was a solid bite, then started reeling in his catch.
“Got something?” asked Daniel.
“Yep.”
Actually catching fish was just a bonus when fishing. That was probably why Teal’c hated fishing. Well, that and the way the mosquitoes swarmed around him. Jack had always enjoyed it, because for once results didn’t matter, which never happened in the military. For all that he played up his simpleton act because it gave him an edge to be underestimated, Jack did like the simple pleasures in life.
“Not one of the edible fish,” remarked Daniel.
“Sunfish. Not worth it.” He never understood how Daniel could remember dozens of languages, myths, and histories, but fail to remember which fish species was which. While Jack fished his lover was reading a book about Aboriginal Australian creation stories, which was relaxing in Daniel’s world. No doubt he’d remember them if SG-1 ever encountered a planet populated by descendents of the native Australians.
He tossed the sunfish back, glad that they weren’t relying on the pond to supply any meals. Really, that would add too much stress to a vacation weekend.
*****
Jack had fallen asleep immediately, worn out by a long session of lovemaking, but Daniel needed a couple of minutes. He usually did after topping, because his mind needed to wind down from paying attention to Jack’s pleasure. As always, his post-coital thoughts were scattered but kept coming back to Jack.
Moonlight was coming through the blinds in slits that made stripes of his partner’s hair gleam. It looked like something out of a poem and transfixed Daniel momentarily.
Jack never used the word ‘partner.’ He said it sounded like they worked at the same law firm. Daniel liked it because it encompassed how vital Jack was to him.
A sarcophagus was a strange thing, he reflected. Ba’al’s had taken years off Jack’s knees and you couldn’t tell where the Goa’uld’s knife had killed him, but it left his old scars. Daniel traced the ragged line on the back of Jack’s shoulder. Their first few weeks together, he kept finding new scars, and Jack would give a brief explanation. The shoulder was, “Shrapnel, Iraq.” On his right side just below his lowest rib was, “Bullet grazed me in Czechoslovakia.” Some of the scars, of course, Daniel recognized, like the staff blast on his leg from Netu.
The scars reminded Daniel of just how much Jack had been through, and how devoted he was to protecting his country and planet. Daniel didn’t always agree with the politics involved, but the scars always made him realize, again, that Jack was a protector, a hero.
Jack had once admitted that Daniel’s scars (much fewer in number than his own) reminded him of the times he’d failed to protect Daniel. Except the small one on Daniel’s knee where he had, at age seven, found a piece of pottery on his parents’ dig when he fell on it. Even at seven, he’d felt terrible for bleeding on an artifact, although his parents were only concerned about him. Nobody had been as concerned about his wounds again until Jack. But without the experiences that gave them scars, neither of them would be the same people.
Outside the cabin frogs and crickets were making a peaceful background chorus. Times like this he could understand why Jack had claimed, so long ago, that the Goa’uld wanted Earth for Minnesota. Not that the Goa’uld could appreciate the serenity of the cabin. Not even the Tok’ra would, Daniel suspected. Although there was the possibility that the Tok’ra might enjoy peace and relaxation once the galaxy was free from their evil brethren. It was a moot point, though, because Jacob Carter and Selmak were the only Tok’ra that Jack would’ve let near his cabin, and they were dead.
In his sleep, Jack rolled over so his body was pressed against Daniel’s. He was quite a sight, debauched and completely relaxed. Low on his neck, where it would be covered by his collar at work, Daniel had given him a small hickey.
Before Jack, it had been so long since he’d had a steady, loving sex life that Daniel had half forgotten how fulfilling it was. But then, being with Jack had changed his life for the better in a lot of ways.
Happy and content, Daniel fell asleep to the sound of frogs, crickets, and Jack breathing.
continued: ent-alter-ego.livejournal.com/7292.html