Servi-1XY13

Sideburns

P3Y-983 wasn't quite as devoid of life as they'd originally thought, Daniel observed from his current position: on his knees, hands clasped behind his head. Funny how many times since joining the SGC he and his teammates ended up exactly like this.

All their weapons were in a pile several feet away and the four uniformed "men" - for lack of a better word -- who'd captured them were conversing quietly, each with what looked like a machine gun, circa nineteen-thirties Chicago, aimed at a member of SG-1. Daniel felt a nudge and, a moment later, Jack hissed, "Tell me you understand them. Just tell me that."

"I understand them - more or less. Typical variation on an Earth language or two... or three. One of these days I'm going to have to finish that paper on 'Spontaneous Pidgins and Resulting Creolization of Earth Languages in Extraplanetarily Resettled Populations When Absorbed into Existing Alien Cultures'."

In spite of being on his knees with his hands behind his head, Jack managed to give Daniel a look that clearly telegraphed to anyone watching just how weird he thought Daniel was before patiently interrupting with, "And you're not going to finish that paper now, right? Because now you're going to tell me what they're saying, aren't you?"

"It's a weird hybrid of Gallic and--"

"Daniel? What. Are. They. Saying."

Rolling his eyes, Daniel said, "They're discussing whether to kill us or take us to their leaders."

Jack's eyes widened. "Take us to their leaders? They actually said that?"

"Yes."

"Would it surprise anyone that my vote would be to meet their leaders?" Jack said to no one in particular.

"That would be my vote as well, O'Neill."

"In that case," Daniel said as he slowly rose to his feet. "I guess I've got to really say this.... "

He yelled out to the four men, causing them to stop their talking and aim all four machine guns at him. He repeated what he'd yelled and the four began to speak quickly.

"Daniel? What did you just say?"

Sighing, Daniel said, "Take me to your leader. I actually said, 'Take me to your leader.'"

The four men packed up SG-1's weapons and, while one threw the pack over his shoulder, the others hurried over to them and, with muzzles prodding them in the back, urged them to stand and move forward. Jack, assuming that said movement indicated a lack of immediate dying, said, "Obviously it beats, 'We're peaceful explorers from Earth.' I'm thinking you should have been using it all along."

All four members of SG-1 waited for the moment when they could make a break for it, but with machine guns against the back of their necks, they found it damn near impossible. As they were walked further and further away from the Stargate, they found their attention diverted to the land and buildings around them - or rather - what was left of the buildings.

"Sir, now that we're seeing this up close and personal, I'd say Daniel was right. This looks exactly like a scene straight out of World War Two."

"Yeah, London after the Blitz," Jack agreed.

"So are they," Daniel hooked a thumb backward, indicating the four men, "from the defeated army or the victors?"

"They walk without fear, DanielJackson. I believe they are the victors - at least here."

"Don't you just love it when we're captured by the victors?" Jack asked drolly.

They'd been walking for over an hour, hands tied in front of them, the walk becoming more painful as the "guards" continued to use their weapons to keep SG-1 from even thinking about escape. They were prodded, nudged, tripped, and on occasion, bludgeoned with the guns. They were almost glad to see what they'd been moving toward, namely a spaceship, which soon appeared on the horizon.

"Okay, machine guns out of our past, and now a spaceship that looks like something from Tomorrowland," Jack said with disgust. "Who are these people?"

"Jack, have you taken a close look at them? And their uniforms, which are nothing we've ever seen? Look at the material and how they move in it. It's like... plastered to them."

Jack shot Daniel another look, this one asking since when had Daniel become such a fashion expert. Daniel simply shrugged as Sam said, "Colonel, he's right. When I brushed up against the goon behind me, I was shocked. It felt like ... skin."

Jack was about to answer when her "goon" shoved her hard and she almost fell into his arms. He did his best to keep her from hitting the ground and finally dropped his arms over her. They clung for a moment, a rather awkward moment, as the soldier yelled out another order. Jack immediately said, "Don't bother translating, Daniel. He gave us his version of shut up."

"Actually, he wanted Sam to walk faster," Daniel offered.

Jack lifted his bound arms over Sam's head and asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, sir. Thank you."

For their polite talk, Daniel got the butt of one of the guns between his shoulder blades. Wincing while biting back a groan, he said, "I'm thinking we should walk faster."

They walked faster.

"Well, at least we're off our feet," Jack observed from his position on his knees. Again. Only this time, his bound hands were above him, hung around a pole that stretched from one wall of their cell to the other. The four of them were in a nice, neat line, one in front of the other. Jack sighed. He really hated it when this happened.

"I believe we are being viewed, O'Neill."

Jack had to look over his shoulder to see Teal'c, who was directly behind him, and once he did, he followed Teal'c's gaze to the small camera mounted high on the side wall. Jack smiled a toothy grin and said rather loudly, "I'd wave, but...."

In the command center of the ship, Rowan nodded at the captives. "They are not Bou'gan."

"No, that is clear. But whatever they are, they are obviously inferior," Walat said snidely.

"One of them understood us and spoke our language," Rowan pointed out.

"So? Look at them. Their foreheads are... are... I do not have the words."

"Walat, he," Rowan tapped the view screen, his finger landing on Daniel, "spoke our language. That is not normal. And while this one," his finger traveled over to Jack, "and this one," he tapped Tea'c, "are very jarring to the eye, the other two are not."

"I find all of them difficult to view," Port, their pilot, said in disgust.

"Which matters not. Forten will know what they are -- who they are. And that's all that counts," Rowan said.

"We should have heard from him by now. What is taking so long?" Jardo, the final member of the four team recon unit, and co-pilot, said.

"The Bou'gan may be attacking the Verdung outpost again," Rowan posited.

"They will not succeed," Walat said with a great deal of confidence.

Rowan ignored him for the simple reason that the Bou'gan, when they attacked "in person", almost always succeeded. A moment later, the large view screen in front of him seemed to crackle with power as their leader's visage appeared.

"Captain Rowan, I understand four beings were captured not long after supposedly exiting the Porta Anneau?"

"That is correct, Lord Forten. We did not see them exit, but they claim to have come from it."

"Do you have video?"

"Patching through to you now." Rowan hit a button next to the view screen and waited. They watched Forten as he viewed the footage, his normally smooth and flat face showing the first sign of emotion Rowan could ever remember seeing.

Suddenly Forten asked, "You said in your report that one of them spoke to you in our language. Is that correct?"

"It is. Do you wish me to point--"

"No," Forten said, his expression back to unreadable. "Allow me. It is the man that appears to be wearing ... round glass over his eyes."

Rowan and Walat looked at each other, surprised, and shrugged before Rowan said, "Yes, Lord Forten, it was that one."

"Use trac-2 speed and get them here. Now."

The view screen went blank. Port's fingers flew across the control panel and a moment later, with a lurch, the ship entered into trac-2.

"What the hell was that?"

"It felt as though we shifted gears, Colonel," Sam answered even as her body was pulled forward and then back sharply.

"I think we're picking up speed, Jack," Daniel said unnecessarily.

"Ya think?"

"Indeed, we are, O'Neill. Extreme speed."

Jack rolled his eyes.

The journey to Amen-tor 3 took only an hour at trac-2. Port glided the ship into the docking station until it was locked in place. They'd received one additional missive from Forten, a message instructing Rowan and Walat to use the Argo tube to bring the prisoners to him. No one used that travel tube, other than the high lords. Rowan couldn't imagine what could be so important about their "guests" as to allow them use of the Argo, but he wasn't going to argue.

"Let's go get them, Walat. Lord Forten awaits."

They moved into the outer corridor and walked quickly to the holding cell. The doors slid open upon sensing their presence. Guns at the ready, they stepped inside. Looking at the man with glass orbs covering his eyes, Rowan said, "Tell the others that when their arms drop, they are to stand slowly and face us."

"What's happening, Daniel?" Jack asked as he tried to look over his shoulder at his friend.

"He said that when our arms drop, we're to stand slowly and face them. I think we've arrived at wherever we're supposed to have... you know, arrived at."

At that moment, the strange manacles around their wrists dropped off. All four stood up slowly, as instructed, and faced their captors.

The taller of the two spoke to Daniel again, who translated.

"We're to hold our left arm straight out in front of us, guys."

"Dare we ask why?" Jack asked as he tried to shake life back into his arms.

Daniel immediately asked their captors Jack's question. The shorter of the two pointed a small black object, the size of a cell phone, at him, and a moment later, Daniel was on the ground writhing in pain.

Jack jumped forward and yelled, "STOP!"

The soldier dropped his hand and waited as the prisoners gathered around the downed man.

Jack lifted Daniel's head and gently patted his cheek. "Daniel? Come on, open your eyes."

Eyes fluttering open, Daniel groaned. "What hit me?"

"I don't know, but it's the smallest weapon I've ever seen. And damn powerful."

Daniel sat up - with Sam's help - and rubbed his head. "Felt like a zat on stereoids."

The tall soldier barked out something and Jack looked questioningly at Daniel, who said, "He wants us to stand up and hold out our left arms."

"You know, I think we'll do it this time," Jack said as he and Teal'c helped Daniel to his feet. They all held out their left arms.

The same device that had been used on Daniel was now pointed at each of them in turn, but this time, all that happened was that a small, thin band appeared on each of their wrists.

Looking at it, Jack said, "I'm betting this isn't for decoration. Daniel, care to ask?"

"No. I'm betting they'll tell us."

A moment later, Daniel was proven right. When their captor finished speaking, Daniel said, "If we try anything, these," he held up his wrist, "will do worse than what just happened to me."

"Ouch," was all that Jack had time to say as they were immediately herded out into the corridor.

"Okay, what the hell is this?"

They were standing on a platform in what looked like a very long tube, and on the ground in front of them, something that looked like a single rail. Daniel, looking down the length of the tube, said, "Transportation? Their form of a subway, maybe?"

Daniel's supposition turned out to be accurate. A long, silver "subway" car slid alongside of them and they were motioned inside. There were three sets of seats and one of their guards prodded Sam and Jack to a set while the other guard moved Daniel and Teal'c to the middle set. Once all six were seated, the vehicle moved forward and quickly picked up speed. A lot of speed.

Jack looked at his watch. Right about now, General Hammond would be expecting SG-1 to check in. Which, under the present circumstances, meant squat. They were God knows where and God knew how far away from P3Y-983, let alone Earth. Hammond's hands would be tied once he'd determined that SG-1 was nowhere to be found. Getting out of this mess would be up to them, one hundred percent.

Forten stood at the window overlooking the city, hands clasped behind his back. If the prisoners were who he believed them to be....

He shook his head. He'd never be able to convince the council - and yet - he had to. The fact was, they were losing the war because the Bou'gan tactics were superior, even though their weaponry was equal to Yenar weaponry. The Yenaran needed help, desperately.

"Lord Forten, Captain Rowan is here with the prisoners."

He didn't turn to face his aide. "I want them in the secured cell."

Movan nodded. "Yes, sir."

After the door shut, he continued to stand in front of the window.

"Nice," Jack said as he moved around the small room. There were no windows or mirrors, no visible cameras, just five chairs around one square table.

Daniel was already seated, head in hands. Teal'c took the chair next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you not well, DanielJackson?"

"Headache."

It was said simply and without inflection. Sam shared a concerned look with Teal'c and said, "I'm sorry, Daniel. Without our packs...."

"I know. It'll pass. Just leftover from their little phone of pain."

Jack stopped his walking-of-the-room to stare at Daniel. "Phone of pain?"

Without lifting his head, Daniel said, "Didn't you think it looked like a small cell?"

Jack thought about it for a moment, and finally nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Phone of pain."

"Right."

Jack went back to walking the room.

Ten minutes later, Sam said, "What do our hosts look like to you, Daniel?"

Daniel gave her a bleary look. "I guess... well, actually, their faces remind me of... now don't laugh, but ... owls."

Jack stopped again, Teal'c's eyebrow arched, and Sam simply stared at him. Daniel looked at each of his teammates and finally shrugged. "What can I say? The face of an owl is very flat with round, widely-spaced eyes. Predatory, you know? Sometimes I expected one of them to swivel their head around. Of course, these guys don't have beaks, but other than that...."

"An owl," Jack mused. "You know, you may have something. Very ... bird-like faces. Bodies, though, totally different. Big, bulked up, made Teal'c look anorexic."

Teal'c's eyebrow climbed into his new hairline.

"The other soldiers we saw in the... I guess for lack of a better word, "station" ... looked the same, more or less. But eye color seemed to vary between dark brown, black and gray," Sam observed.

"Yeah. The one guy who did most of the talking seemed to find the color of yours and Daniel's eyes rather interesting."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Daniel reminded.

Before Jack could say anything, the door to their cell opened and a tall, lean man stepped inside. He looked at each one in turn, and finally said, in English, "You are... Esgeewon?"

Jack looked skeptically at Daniel, whose face, after a puzzled moment, cleared. "He means SG-1, Jack." Daniel looked at the man and nodded. "We're SG-1. This," he pointed at Jack, "is Colonel Jack O'Neill, our leader, Major Samantha Carter and this is Teal'c. I'm Daniel Jackson."

The man seemed to be listening - and watching - intently. Something flickered in his steady gaze at the mention of Jack and Sam's ranks, but he seemed to stiffen when he looked at Teal'c.

Daniel waited a moment, and when the man said nothing in acknowledgement of his words, he repeated them in what he hoped was a reasonable facsimile of the man's language. The man nodded now, and smiled slightly. He then said, "I am Tauri enabled, but ... it will take... time to perfect." He looked at Daniel and asked, "You ... do not have... a... rank?"

"Me? No, I'm not a soldier, not in the military. I'm a linguist and archaeologist." At the puzzled and confused look on the man's face, Daniel explained, "I study languages, ancient cultures, the history of--"

"Ah," the man said almost dismissively. He immediately turned to Jack. "You are a colonel? We have such a ... rank, it is very highly placed among our Mercs." He moved his attention to Sam. "You represent... the female of your... your...."

"Species?" Daniel offered.

Eyes still on Sam, the man nodded. "Yes. Species. Yet your... rank is?"

"She is my second-in-command," Jack said.

"A soldier as well, then."

It was a statement requiring no answer but Jack found himself nodding.

"That bears out what Captain Rowan reported. Your weapons," he looked between Jack and Sam, "were equal."

Not knowing what his point was, Jack found himself nodding again.

"I am Lord Forten, the regent of this quadrant of Amen-Tor. I rule Amen-Tor3. I am the only one of my people to travel outside of our worlds, although that fact is known only by the High Council. I have heard of the Taur'i who defeated Ra, Apophis, Hathor, Seth--"

Jack held up a hand. "Is this considered a good thing in Amen-Tor or bad?"

Lord Forten smiled. "It is a very good thing. If you will come with me now, I have much to explain."

Jack looked at his team, and at their nod, he said, "Fine, we'd be happy to hear--"

"No, just you, Colonel O'Neeel. Follow me."

"Sir, I don't think--"

"Carter, you think I should say no?" He held up his wrist.

"No, sir, of course not." She glanced over at Daniel, who shrugged.

"Lord Fortune, I'd be happy to accompany you."

As Jack followed the man out, Daniel rolled his eyes and hissed out, "Forten."

"Yadda-yadda," Jack said as he walked out the door.

Forten led Jack through the large whitewashed building and finally into what he presumed was an office of some kind. The man walked over to the far wall and stood before what Jack hoped wasn't their version of artwork. He really didn't think a large, square "picture" full of crazily intersecting lines was anyone's idea of art. Not to mention the fact that all the squiggleys were giving Jack a headache. Suddenly, thanks to a wave of Forten's hand, the lines disappeared and a map of a solar system appeared.

"This is our galaxy." Forten waved his hand again and several planets immediately lit up in either green or blue. To Jack's eyes, the number of green seemed equal to the blue.

"Many gen ago, this was Amen-Tor, the worlds of the Yenaran," Forten said as he pointed at the green-lit planets, "and these," he indicated the blue, "the worlds of the Bou'gans." He faced Jack. "Our history tells us that a time existed where the Yenar and Bou'gan lived in peace - separate -- but in peace. But I know only of war."

Jack was sure this speech, flowing much easier now, which was a mystery in and of itself, would be thrilling to Daniel, but it was doing nothing for him. He desperately wanted the man to cut to the chase and get to the punch line. He thought of clearing his throat, but he could see the disgusted look Daniel would have given him, so he sucked it in and listened. Besides, these guys seemed to possess a hell of a lot of nifty gadgets and that was worth his attention.

"We know of no other way of life and for more gen than I know, it has been a ... balanced war, as our technology and advancements have kept pace with our enemy's. But a gen ago, there was a disturbing shift that resulted in this," he waved his hand again and the map now showed less than a third of the worlds in green.

Forten faced Jack. "I have taken great risk bringing you here. Normally, you would have been inducted into either the Mercs or the Servis and your level determined, but there is an outside chance that you can aid us in our battle against the Bou'gan. For all of our equality in advanced technology, they have recently moved ahead because of... I'm sorry, my translator is not quick with the correct terminology," Forten apologized.

"Translator?"

Forten nodded and pointed to a small stud in his very flat ear. "This is how I am able to speak your language."

"I... see." He didn't, but he knew Sam would have.

"As I was saying, the Bou'gan began winning because they are now superior in," his face lit up, "strategy and military ... combat... skills."

He actually smiled as if Jack should praise him so Jack nodded and tried to look pleased as he was certain both Sam and Daniel would have done exactly that.

"We do not understand ... combat. We do not understand what you would call hand-to-hand combat, or ... the logistics of... troop deployment, hence, we are losing the war. I have no doubt that this means nothing to you, but the understanding of it could, ultimately, mean your freedom."

Jack perked up. "How?"

"As I stated, normally, you would be absorbed into our society as a Servi, but your reputation tells me that you may provide us with a means by which to successfully fight, and ultimately defeat, the Bou'gan. You are clearly inferior--"

Okay, that got to Jack. "Whoa, whoa, inferior? We've been called young, hell, even primitive, but inferior? Excuse me, but we're the ones who have taken out quite a few system lords, as you mentioned."

Forten's expression changed and Jack immediately flashed on Omac.

"Nevertheless, you are highly inferior to us. Both technologically and in ... physicality. You are no match for us - but - as you say, you have succeeded in defeating a formidable enemy. It is this that gives me some hope. I am willing to take my idea to the council. I offer you the chance at freedom, and all that is required is that you teach us these -- combat techniques."

Jack was flabbergasted. There was no doubt that the Yenaran had advanced technology, but come on, machine guns? Space ships out of the fifties? Where the hell did he get off thinking--

Jack's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the entrance of one of the men who'd captured them. He spoke rapidly to Forten, who seemed to lose color. A moment later, the doors opened and several more soldiers rushed in, guns at the ready. They placed themselves around Forten who yelled out an order. One of the soldiers then pulled Jack away.

There was silence and Jack, bundled into a corner, was puzzled. What the fuck was going on? His answer came a moment later as the doors slid open and two more soldiers entered. Naturally Jack assumed them to be more soldiers to protect Forten, but when Forten's guards fired on them, he quickly changed his mind.

Looking at the pile of ash - all that was left of the intruders - Jack had another epiphany: the weapons were not your typical machine guns, circa nineteen-thirty.

Hot damn.

"Daniel, stop pacing. It was driving me crazy when the colonel was doing it and it's driving me crazy now."

Daniel stopped. "Sorry, Sam." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses and asked, "Do you suppose he's all right?"

"I don't know," Sam said softly, her gaze straying to the door.

Daniel sat down and gave out with a sigh. Teal'c cocked his head and said, "Someone is coming. Perhaps they are bringing O'Neill back."

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly at the door - which opened a moment later. Two men entered, looked at all three, singled out Daniel, and motioned for him to follow them. He stood, ran a hand through his hair, gave his teammates a wry grin and said, "Jack must be having trouble communicating."

Teal'c stood quickly, but a gun in his back forced him back down. "Undoubtedly, DanielJackson."

Daniel waggled his eyebrows, grinned, and said, "See you soon." With that, he followed them out.

"Teal'c?" Sam said worriedly as she stared at the now closed door.

"I am sure that it is as DanielJackson stated."

Once in the hall, Daniel was book-ended by the two and escorted down the hall. They seemed to follow much the same path as they had upon their arrival. Sure enough, it wasn't long before they were back at the tube. This time a vehicle was waiting and when the door slid open, he was almost pushed inside. He stumbled, caught himself, and was again pushed, this time toward a seat. He sat down.

While his guards remained standing and the car moved forward, Daniel asked, "Where are you taking me?"

Neither man so much as blinked.

Daniel tried again. "I know you understand me, that I'm speaking your language well enough to be understood. Are you taking me to where Colonel O'Neill is?"

Again, nothing. They didn't even look at him. Daniel glanced around and realized that this car was different from the one they'd used earlier. The interior was gray instead of the cobalt blue of the previous car and there were only four seats. Daniel was getting a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

The ash was gone and so were the soldiers. Jack was stunned, which considering his background, was saying something. Forten looked at him, the wide and yes, owlish eyes, unblinking. "You wish to know what you just witnessed, yes?"

"Not necessarily, but hey, whatever."

"Two Bou'gan managed to infiltrate our ranks. Fortunately, security was able to see through their charade. This was a most bold act and I do not think it had the sanction of their leaders. But it is an indication of how strong and secure the Bou'gan feel."

Forten seemed to struggle for a moment before finally adding, "I offer you freedom upon the condition that you and your Mercs assist in our battle. Teach us and I will have you taken back to the Porta Anneau and you will be free to go through to wherever you wish. While here, you will be treated with respect and given the title of Tek-Merc-1. You will have many of the same rewards as the Mercs, have some degree of freedom. I will bind you for a term of ... what you would call... six ... months. If you say no, you will be taken to Cuertav and spend the rest of your days as a either a Servi or Merc, with no hope of freedom, but with the surety that eventually the Bou'gan will take over and your lives will end. Our enemy does not tolerate any species other than their own. The choice is yours."

Sam was scared. The colonel was still not back. She glanced at the door for the umpteenth time and for the umpteenth time, it failed to open and reveal Jack.

"Major Carter, watching the door will not open it, nor will it bring O'Neill or DanielJackson back to us."

Sam immediately looked away and then at Teal'c. "Have you noticed how often we end up like this?"

Teal'c cocked his head at her. "You mean when it is not DanielJackson and I? Or when it is not you and O'Neill? Or O'Neill and I?"

"Or me and Daniel?" Sam said, her lips twitching.

"Indeed."

"But you have to admit, it seems to end up with you and me more often than the other combinations, right?"

"I believe only because for one year, we were without DanielJackson."

Sam felt her face heat up as she realized she hadn't given Daniel a thought since the soldiers had taken him from their midst. But then, of course, he was safe and with Jack. Naturally.

Now if only they would both come back....

Jack was escorted to the cell. He stood quietly while the door was unlocked and opened, and then he stepped inside. As the door shut behind him, he grinned and said, "Hi, guys. Long time, no see."

Sam was up in an instant. "Sir, are you all right?"

Holding his arms out, he said, "What you see is what you get, Carter."

Teal'c, frowning, asked, "Where is DanielJackson?"

At Teal'c's words, Jack realized that his friend was not in the room. "Okay," he said, barely hiding his worry, "I'll bite. Where is Daniel?"

At the moment Jack was asking about his whereabouts, Daniel was being shoved into a bright but windowless room. There was a table, a chair, and nothing else.

Daniel was officially worried.

"What do you mean they took him away?"

"We... I assumed... and that he was with you," Sam finished lamely.

"You assumed wrong." Jack turned to the door and began to bang on it. He didn't have to bang long. A guard showed his face at the glass window and Jack yelled, "FORTEN!"

The guard frowned and walked away. Jack had the urge to shove his fist through the glass, but chose instead to turn and sit down heavily. "I don't understand why they would take Daniel. Forten and I have an agreement and this makes no sense."

"Sir? An agreement?"

He looked up at Carter and shrugged. "It's not the best, but considering the alternative." He then explained all that he'd been told, and about the agreement to help the "Mercs" in learning military tactics.

"I think we can work with it," he finished. Then his voice hardened as he added, "Once we get Daniel back."

The door to their cell opened at that moment, and one of their original captors walked in. Noticing that he now wore the same stud in his ear as Forten had worn during their meeting, Jack stood and said, "Where's my other teammate?"

Rowan stopped just inside and said, "He is not... a Merc. We have placed him where he will best... serve... until you have completed the agreement."

"I want him here, and I want him here now," Jack demanded.

"That is not possible. You do not understand what our Lord Forten is undertaking by allowing you to ... be ... labeled a Tek-Merc-1. The council would not even listen if they could not be assured that the one member of Esgeewon that is not a Merc were included. Daniel Jackson must serve in another capacity and you do not have a choice. His future for the next six months is set... and dependant on your cooperation and success."

His last words were clearly a thinly veiled warning.

Eyes still on Rowan, Jack slowly nodded, and finally said, "So if we succeed and win our freedom, he will be returned to us, yes?"

"Of course. You will have succeeded for your ... team. Your entire team."

"I want to see him."

"That is not possible. He has already been transferred to Evedne, our planet prime and homeworld to our Council. There it will be determined how best he can serve. Believe me, he will be in no danger."

Sam put her hand on Jack's arm. "Sir, you know Daniel. They'll probably use him in some library or something. He'll be in heaven and end up more knowledgeable about the Yenar than the Yenar themselves."

He glanced down at her... and finally nodded. He looked back at Rowan and said, his voice steel-hard, "He'd better remain safe, and when this is over...."

He left it at that, his tone and body language serving as his warning. It was a meaningless one as it was clear that the Yenar held all the cards. But damn, it made him feel better. Marginally.

He felt an empty hole in his stomach and it wasn't hunger. He didn't like being separated from any of his team, but this screamed wrong. He just prayed that Daniel understood what was happening - and why. And damn it, this made any kind of escape impossible.

According to his watch, he'd been alone for over four hours. There'd been no food or water delivered and Daniel prayed this wasn't happening to Jack ... or by now, Sam and Teal'c. Not that he was worried. No, sir.

A clicking sound caused him to sit up straight in the chair. His cell door opened and three men stepped inside. Which, considering the size of the room, was quite an accomplishment. Two of the men were the typical soldier types, but the other one was different. He was smaller, more slender, and wore a thin, molded-to-the-skin silver shirt, equally molded silver pants and sandals on his feet. He looked like a young, small, exotic owl. One who, at the moment, was looking at Daniel much the same way Daniel suspected he looked at rare artifacts. It was very... uncomfortable. Finally the man waved a hand and said, "Stand, please."

Not knowing where his other teammates were now, or how they were, Daniel thought it would probably be in everyone's best interest if he did as asked. He stood up.

"Turn around."

He turned around, stomping down on his natural need to ask questions. He'd learned a helluva lot in nine years.

"Face me."

Daniel turned back around. The man walked up to him and removed Daniel's glasses. He looked at them with curiosity, tapping each lens before holding them up to his own eyes. The effect caused him to jump back almost in fright as he literally threw the glasses away. Daniel watched helplessly as they hit the ground. Fortunately, they were tough suckers and didn't break. Well, not until the man walked over and, with an angry expression on his face, stomped down on them. Daniel winced and said goodbye to a clear world until... who knew when.

The man, convinced now that he'd slain the evil glasses, turned back to one of the soldiers and took something that was draped over his arm. He held the outfit out to Daniel, along with a pair of sandals. "Put these on and remove that," he pointed at Daniel's watch. "We will return shortly."

Daniel took the item but his need to question finally won out. "Can you tell me where my friends are? What this is all about?"

"Your friends are still on Amen-Tor3. They are safe and have entered into an agreement with Lord Forten. As far as you are concerned, you are about to be tested in order to determine how best to place you while serving out your time. "

"Serving out ... my time? Could you explain that? We've done nothing wrong. We're explorers, that's all."

"Your commander has agreed to six months and six months is what you will serve. We will return shortly."

With that, he and the other two walked out and the door was once again locked. Daniel was left with broken glasses and something ... silky ... in his hands. He lifted the material, shook it out... and groaned.

It was an outfit similar to his new host's, just as brief, but in brown. Oh, goody.

He sat down heavily. Once again he'd been separated from his team, but least this time... no mines. He hoped.

Daniel was ready, and just as he folded his tee shirt, the door opened again.

"Follow me."

Daniel nodded and trailed behind him. As they walked down the hall, both flanked by two soldiers, the man said, "Until I say otherwise, you are not to speak unless spoken to. Is that understood?"

"Yes. But can you tell me exactly what the agreement is?"

The man held up a hand. "I was quite clear that you should not speak unless spoken to."

"But you did speak to me and requested a response. Can you answer my question?"

Looking only slightly disgusted, the man said, "All I know is that your commander, and his two subordinates, will teach the Yenaran how to ... fight. If they succeed, you will be granted your freedom. Until then, they will be stationed on Amen-Tor3 and you will go where Asai Morte sends you."

"Asai Morte?"

"You must learn to curb your tongue or you will not have an easy time of it. And Asai Morte is the Lepricant in the High Council and in charge of the Servi. He has decided to see you personally and he, and he alone, will decide your future for the next six months. Now, do not speak again, I give you fair warning. What that," he lightly touched the band around Daniel's wrist, "can do to you is not something you wish to discover."

Daniel quashed the rest of his questions, hoping to have a chance later to find out more, like what the hell was a "Servi"?

Daniel was on his knees in front of Asai Morte, a tall, powerfully built Yenar with obsidian eyes that, in words Jack would have chosen, gave Daniel the willies. The room he'd been guided to was large, light and airy, but with very little in the way of creature comforts.

So far, Asai Morte had already walked around Daniel three times touching most parts of Daniel's body, including parts Daniel would have preferred to keep untouched. He'd also spent an inordinate amount of time studying Daniel's eyes. Finally, he stepped back and Daniel took the first easy breath.

Asai clapped his hands, barked out a few words, and several uncomfortable minutes later, seven Yenaran men and women, all dressed like Daniel, entered.

The two soldiers behind Daniel reached down and lifted him rather unceremoniously to his feet before stepping back, and Daniel had the ridiculous feeling that he was about to be tested. Being rather familiar with testing, he really would have preferred to have some understanding of the mechanics of the exam - always important when it came to whether one passed or failed.

As he watched Asai, he had the sudden feeling that win or lose - he would lose.

"Sir, what - exactly - is expected of us?"

"Think basic training."

"Sir?"

"Boot camp."

Carter's smooth forehead wrinkled rather attractively when she was confused, Jack thought. Too bad it didn't do it for him anymore.

"Sir, I'm not sure--"

"Our job is to teach these yokels to rise above technology and get down and dirty and fight their way to victory. Does that explain it?"

"Ah, I see. And just when do we start?"

"For that ... I have no answer, but I suspect we'll be contacted, Carter. It's not like we have anywhere to go."

They'd been moved to a military compound just outside the city and found themselves escorted to a large set of rooms with wide, floor-to-ceiling windows. In exploring their new "digs", it didn't take long to discover that each room was under surveillance. In the main room, a set of glass doors opened to the outside revealing a railed-in patio, and Jack, being Jack, had to walk through the small railed gate to see what would happen if he kept going. Which worked very well ... until the alarms went off. Soldiers appeared, motioned him back and then had left as quietly as they'd appeared. And of course, Jack being Jack, had to try the same thing through the front door. The soldiers were just as nice when they motioned him back inside.

Since then, they'd chosen rooms (Jack the one that face north, Carter the one at the opposite end, and Teal'c the room next to Jack's), they'd talked, and they'd paced. Well, Jack and Sam paced. Teal'c just sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed.

"Maybe we should ... I don't know, plan something?" Carter suggested as she passed Jack in her pacing.

"We can't plan until we see the material, Carter," Jack said as he turned in the opposite direction. "Damn, I wish I knew what was happening to Daniel."

"Sir, you know him. By now, there's probably a female owl-face falling all over him."

Teal'c's eyes shot open even as Jack stared open-mouthed at his 2IC.

"I believe that was uncalled for, Major Carter."

"All I mean is that he's probably in seventh heaven, in some huge library or school, or something like that, with some lovely librarian hot on his heels. That's all."

Okay, this was the strangest thing Daniel had ever been through in his life. He and the others ... whatever they were... had stood for what seemed like forever while a fucking parade of Yenaran soldiers, male and female, walked past them. To add injury to insult - he'd been pinched, prodded, fondled, stroked, examined, and basically studied to the kind of degree that made him very relieved that none of his teammates were here - and equally relieved that Sam wasn't with him. By now, she'd have reacted in ways that would have been, while certainly entertaining, detrimental to her health.

Finally the show seemed to be over. No more soldiers. He let out a sigh of relief just as his two favorite guards pushed him back down to his knees while his fellow "models" were escorted out.

Now what?

He knelt for what seemed an eternity, but finally Asai re-entered and walked up to him. For several seconds he simply stared at him before finally asking in the Yenaran language, "You understand my words, do you not?"

Daniel nodded. "I do."

Asai reached out and touched Daniel's hair. "Soft."

Daniel decided that didn't require a response.

"I am somewhat surprised by the results of the Linuxe, on several levels. I did not trust Forten's placement of you within Servi-1 and yet, he has been proven correct. But to have you score as a Servi-1XY... that is truly amazing. Until now, there have been only twelve."

He walked away a few paces before turning back to face him again. "This poses a problem. We have never had another species as a Servi-1, let alone a Servi-1XY, and yet, here you are."

Yes, thought Daniel, here I am. And what the hell is a Servi-1XY?

Asai walked back to him and ran his hand down Daniel's cheek. "I find myself highly attracted to you myself so how can I not place you accordingly?"

Attracted? ATTRACTED?

Okay, Daniel was now officially - and doubly -- worried. He'd bet a month's salary, no mere pittance, that a Servi-1XY was not a scientist, teacher, librarian, or anything of that nature.

Asai moved away and dropped his arm. "You will be assigned to the Segev station. I will place you under the guidance of Moram Eli, who will train you. You will know greater comfort and freedom than most other Servi, and until the six months are up, you will play an equal part in winning victory for the Yenaran as your comrades."

Asai turned and started out and Daniel simply couldn't restrain himself. "Why can't I be with my--"

He got no farther as a strange heat emanated from the bracelet and traveled up his left arm. He found his gaze pulled toward it as if he could see the flames that had to be responsible for the heat. Eyes wide, the heat spread, slowly and painfully, until his entire body was engulfed. He fell onto his side, writhing in pain. He could see nothing but waves and waves of heat that seemed to wrap around his body and squeeze and squeeze... and he shut his eyes to block it out and protect them from what had to a huge furnace blast. God, even the hair on his arms were on fire now....

Suddenly... nothing.

The floor was cool to his cheek and his skin felt completely normal. Breathing still harsh, he lifted his head and blinked blearily.

"Do not speak unless spoken to, Servi. Remember that in the future. The bracelet's effects can be controlled. The pain and heat can be nothing more than a reminder, or it can be all consuming."

Daniel opened his mouth to ask what level he'd just experienced, but Asai stopped him. "Do not speak, Servi. I will show you no patience. The level you were just exposed to was sike-five. The highest level is sike-ten. Do not make me use it."

No, no, definitely not, Daniel thought muzzily as he slowly sat up. No more sike of any level. He made a mental "zipping the mouth" maneuver and hoped he could control himself.

"Very good. Remain here, I will send someone for you. You will be prepared for the move to Segev."

Stay put? Oh, yeah, he could do that.

When the door closed behind Asai, Daniel closed his eyes. He prayed that Jack wasn't dealing with this shit. Jack and his smart-aleck remarks could spell big trouble for him, and without him there to help control him....

Damn it, Jack. Behave yourself, okay?

Three-fourths of SG-1 stared at the table in front of them.

Jack absently scratched his arm and said, "That's a lot of food."

"Are those ribs, sir?"

Jack reached out and touched one of the caramelized pieces and stuck his finger in his mouth. "Barbecue sauce - ketchup based. Good." He grinned. "I'm thinking ... yeah, ribs."

He pulled a chair out and sat down, motioning to his teammates to do the same. When they did, he took a plate, piled it high with the Yenaran version of potato salad, cole slaw, beans, and of course, the ribs. A pitcher full of a brown liquid sat to his left and he picked it up and filled the glass on his right. He sniffed it, tasted it, licked his lips, and said, "Ice tea, guys. Lots of lemon. Not too sweet."

Sam, after a look at her commanding officer, began to help herself as well, albeit to much smaller portions. Teal'c did the same. Jack wasn't surprised however, when neither took a bite, both waiting for him to go first. He went first. After three minutes - evidently the time Carter and Teal'c had determined to be the safe amount of time if the food was poisoned or drugged - they started to eat.

"Okay, this is... good," Sam commented after licking her fingers. "Very good."

"I would concur," Teal'c agreed as he took a forkful of beans.

Jack reached for another rib and hoped Daniel was faring as well. Not that there was any reason for him not to.

Daniel gazed around his new cell and slowly dropped down onto the cot. Wow, talk about simplicity in design. At least the Yenaran were consistent.

He was surrounded by four brown walls, no windows. He had a cot and he had to assume the large bucket in the corner was his toilet. The door was heavy and metal with some kind of trap-like contraption at the bottom. This was "greater comfort and freedom than most other Servi"? Yeah, right.

Home-sweet-home.

At that moment, the trap door slid open and a tray was pushed in. He watched it slide across the floor as the door was shut again. Gosh, room service. He wasn't overly inclined to move, his body still reacting to the lovely massage he'd received earlier, thanks to his bracelet. On the other hand, his stomach was growling. Move and feed it, or sit and suffer?

He opted for moving and eating.

Daniel got up and picked the tray up from the floor. He walked back to his cot, sat down, and peeked under the dome. "Oh, God," he muttered as the smell assaulted him. And he'd always thought brussel sprouts stunk. He checked out the drink and smiled. Water. Thank you, God.

He drank it down and when his stomach rumbled again, he dipped a finger in the mess on the plate. He licked it, grimaced, and shook his head. He'd have to get way hungrier than he was now. He put the tray back on the floor and, with his foot, shoved it back toward the door.

He could just imagine some of Jack's wisecracks if they were currently being fed anything similar. And Jack would eat it too.

Daniel pulled his legs up and dropped onto his back. The cot was okay, no lumps. His muscles were cramping and he quickly turned onto his side and pulled his knees in. Okay, that helped considerably. He let his breathing move into a relaxing cadence and watched the brown wall opposite.

Jack moved silently out onto the small patio and braced his hands on the railing. Gazing out over the yard and the lights of the compound, he prayed that Daniel was all right. In spite of Carter's words, he was worried. He vowed that no matter what, in the future, Daniel would be considered as much a soldier as the rest of the team. There was no way they were going to be separated again.

"Danny, be okay. Just... be okay."

He had no idea how long he'd been in the small room, but he knew he'd drifted off several times. He would really have enjoyed more water. He'd eyed the bucket a couple of times, but decided to play the waiting game. Asai's words regarding comfort, a move to Segev, and someone "preparing" him led him to believe that he wouldn't be staying here all that long.

Daniel's eyes were drifting shut again when the door to his cell opened. He blinked as light poured in and a man, followed by the requisite two soldiers, stepped inside.

"I am Moram Eli, Servi-1XY13. Stand."

Daniel was no fool. You only had to zap him once, thank you very much. He stood.

"Very good. I will be your trainer during the journey to Segev." He held out his arm and Daniel could see something draped over it. "Take these and put them on."

Daniel took the new garments and noticed immediately that instead of brown, these were white... and just as silky but not as thick as the brown. This set of clothing seemed almost ... transparent. Joy was his middle name.

"Undress now. We must go."

Daniel frowned and looked at the door and back to his "trainer". He hoped the rather pointed look didn't come across either as a question, or as being too pushy, but damn, he really didn't want to strip in front of these men.

"I do not wish to use the bracelet, Servi-1XY13. Change now."

Sighing, Daniel pulled the shirt off, tossed it on the cot, and slipped the new one over his head. It seemed to float over his chest and mold itself to him. He had to admit that this shirt was far more comfortable than the brown one. He also figured that it left nothing to the imagination regarding his upper torso - which meant the pants would be the same. Sucking in his courage, and pretending that he was in the SGC locker room, he stepped out of the brown pants and very quickly into the white.

He was right about them. He tied the pants off and noticed that like the top, the pants had immediately molded to every muscle, every curve, and every inch of his lower torso. The only thing he was truly grateful for was the built-in jock strap. Okay, the silk jock strap, the barely there jock strap, but still, it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

"Very good. Now listen carefully. We are not at a Servi-1 center so as we walk you to the docking station, you must keep your head down at all times. Watch only the floor. Do not make eye contact with anyone, do not speak to anyone. We will guide you with our bodies. If you fail to comply, I will be forced to punish you once we reach the ship. Do not answer this next question verbally, simply nod. Do you understand?"

Daniel had wised up over the years. He nodded.

He was led out and found himself book-ended again. He kept his head down, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. It didn't feel... degrading, only typical of all that he'd seen so far. His mind had been processing since their capture and he'd already come to several conclusions, none of which pointed to an easy six months. So far he'd seen no evidence of art or architecture as an art form, let alone any designs meant to be pleasing to the eye. Everything was extremely utilitarian. Based on the uniforms he'd seen, he'd concluded that Yenar was built on, at the least, a three-caste system. He'd seen no children, which was probably not surprising, but he hadn't seen the normal groupings of people either. No small groups standing around talking or couples walking down corridors, nothing. True, he could hardly say that he'd seen a good representation of these people, but he suspected that he'd find the same thing wherever he went. From everything he'd heard and seen, he was pretty certain he was looking at a war-powered culture.

And if true, then his status as this ... Servi-1XY... did not bode well.

A culture based on fighting a war - even a culture as advanced as this one appeared to be -- would revolve around the soldiers who fought the war and the technicians that operated, built and maintained the equipment needed to help the soldiers. Whatever the soldiers needed - they would be given. Including warm bodies to provide ... sex.

Relief. Relaxation. Rewards.

His mind was jumping all over the map, he knew that. He was making assumptions and he could almost hear Sam disagreeing.

"Daniel, we don't know that. There's nothing to assume...."

Yadda-yadda.

But his mind was uncontrollable at putting together clues, no matter how small they were.

It was as natural as breathing to him.

But he'd really like his mind to stop now, because in a minute, he would be envisioning his role in keeping Yenaran soldiers happy over the next six months.

It would not be a pleasant picture.

Colonel Willits shook his head. "No, sir, still no sign of SG-1."

Hammond turned toward the 'Gate. He'd know the answer when he'd sent Willits and his team back to the planet. He'd known. The evidence pointed to the fact that SG-1 had been taken from P3Y-983 by ship; the newly singed ground the primary clue. Repeated fly-overs by the UAV had confirmed no signs of life and testing by Willits and his team had confirmed no underground buildings, caves, or anything else that could hold his flagship team in hiding from those searching for them.

SG-1 was gone.

And unless the Goa'uld had a new kind of ship, they were not the culprits. Not if that singed outline was any indication.

Messages were going out to their few remaining allies - including Jacob - in hopes that someone, somewhere, would have information on SG-1 and whoever had taken them. Now all Hammond could do was what he found himself doing all too often: wait

"Sit, Thirteen. These are your quarters during the two day flight to Segev."

Daniel's expression must have telegraphed his surprise at the "two day" flight because Moram said, "Segev is a small tripta of Orseaus, which is at the far end of our space. This ship is not equipped with trac-2 speed, so the journey will take time." His eyes sparkled with pride as he added, "We are very proud of Segev. It is the most exclusive of our rest planets and was created longer ago than any of us know." Realizing that much of what he had said would mean nothing to Daniel, Moram took a seat at the small table opposite Daniel and added, "A tripta is a Yenaran-created planet. We control its orbit around the parent planet."

Daniel was stunned. The Yenaran could actually... create a planet? Well, holy shit, he thought, once again channeling Jack.

"Now, as long as the two of us are in your quarters, you may speak. When I move you to either the MedC or the training room, you will once again be restricted to speaking only when directly addressed. Your head will remain down, eyes on the ground. You will not make eye contact with anyone - at any time - not even when directed to speak. Do you understand?"

Wary, Daniel chose to simply nod.

"Very good." He cocked his head and regarded Daniel from narrowed eyes. "Do you have any questions?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, forget I said that. Yes, I have questions, beginning with: how are my teammates? Why have we been separated? Are they all right? And what the heck is this Servi-1XY13?"

The questions had come in the usual manner for Daniel: fast and furious, and left Moram with his mouth open.

"You... are... unusual," he finally said. "I shall try to answer all that I can. Your friends are well. They have agreed to teach our Mercs how to fight in the manner of the Bou'gan, which we hope will give us the advantage we need."

"The Bou'gan?"

"Our enemy."

In the next few minutes, Daniel received a lecture on the history of the Yenaran-Bou'gan war similar to the one Jack had been exposed to. He was actually surprised to find his conclusions regarding the Yenaran society to be accurate.

"We believe," Moram continued, clearly warming up to his subject, "that your teammates will be able to teach us much. In return, you will all have your freedom--"

"In six months," Daniel finished for him. "All right, I get all of that. Now, why was I separated from them? We're a team, we work together."

"You do not have rank."

It was said so simply that Daniel got the feeling he was supposed to understand it. After a moment, he did. "But Teal'c has no rank either. Has he been taken elsewhere?"

"The ... Jaffa? No, he is with your friends. He is not Tauri, he is Jaffa. A warrior."

Couldn't argue with that logic. "You know of the Jaffa?" he asked dubiously. The one thing he'd noticed, when he was allowed to look, was the complete lack of Goa'uld influence.

"We do. And of the Goa'uld."

Daniel leaned forward. "They've been here?"

Moram shook his head. "Not at all. With permission of myself and the rest of the High Council, Lord Forten has traveled far beyond the Norak and has brought back many stories. It is through his travels that he learned of Esgeewon."

Oh, yeah, Daniel was overjoyed about that.

"So I don't have a rank, but I am more than capable of--"

"You do not have a rank," Moram repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Right. No rank." Gee, it sounded like his first months with the "Esgeecee". "So my friends are fine."

"They are. Their comfort will be our top priority. Anything they require, they shall have, and in return, we will learn from them."

Daniel held up his left arm and nodded at the bracelet. "And this?"

"Will not be used on them. In fact, I suspect they have already been removed. Your teammates were transferred to our largest and most prestigious military compound. They cannot escape, so the bracelets are not required."

Daniel's chin rose a fraction of an inch. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, escape is pretty much out of the question for me too."

"You are a Servi-1 and not a Yenaran. The bracelet serves a purpose other than keeping you from attempting to escape."

Not liking the sound of that at all, Daniel finally asked the important question. "Maybe now would be a good time to give me a thorough explanation of what I am? Exactly? What is this Servi-1?"

"I would not ordinarily be involved in training a Servi-1... not even an XY, but as this is a rather unusual situation, I will endeavor to explain." Moram rose easily and walked a few paces away before turning back to face Daniel. "We have been at war with the Bou'gan for as long as any of us can remember. Gens of war. We have our layers of government, of course, but then we have the Mercs, the most important of our people, with the Teks right behind them." At Daniel's quizzical expression, Moram added, "Teks build, man, and maintain the machines that aid our Mercs."

"Ah." He wasn't surprised. Teks ... technicians. And considering the hodge-podge of language variations, he could assume the "Mercs" were simply a now bastardized version of "mercenary" or for the Yenaran: soldiers. And Servi... service. Provide ... service. Or in his case, if he was putting the clues together correctly, service the soldiers. As in... service.

"The Servi," Moram went on to say, "represent our third level, the lowest level. They are those who serve the rest of us. The cooks, the cleaners, the maintainers of our environment... and Servi-1's, those who meet the sexual needs of the Mercs and Teks."

Daniel could guess this next answer, but he wanted confirmation. And in spite of what he'd just had confirmed about his role for the next six months, his mind demanded more knowledge. "What about ... marriage, children? Why do the Mercs need such ... attention?"

"Marriage?" Moram looked baffled. "What is this... marriage?"

Huh, oh.

"Uhm, two people in love? They commit themselves to each other, have children, raise their family?"

"We have no such commitment. There is no time for such a thing. Our Mercs are constantly at war, our Teks work just as feverishly, and the government must keep our worlds going. As for children, we no longer bear our own. They are created when needed."

"Created?" Daniel asked, shocked.

"We take the seed of our finest and add it--"

"Never mind, I get it. Test tube babies." He ran a hand through his short hair and asked, "So how often do you need to create?"

"That is not germane to the information I am imparting."

"Right." Daniel knew that trying to explain himself, his need to understand, would fall on deaf ears, so he asked a more pertinent question. "So," he waggled his head, "these Servi-1's?"

"Very simply put: there is no other way for our Mercs to receive sexual gratification. Oh, there was a time when they found it when they could, and often among each other, but their minds were not on winning and we lost both battles and Mercs. Eventually we discovered that if we saw to their needs, if we rewarded them in ways they couldn't do for themselves, they performed much better. Minds clear and with one objective, along with the promise of sexual rewards with the most beautiful of our people as additional motivation, our Mercs went forward to many victories. Those who were elevated to Servi-1 positions understood that they were, in their own way, contributing to the success our military force. They were not equipped to serve in any other capacity, but they represented the most pleasing of our race. Once trained, they went forward eager to serve."

"Right. Eager to serve."

"Now, I will briefly explain the special designation granted you, and then I will begin your training."

"Ah, yes, the 'XY13'. I'm all ears," Daniel said, his sarcasm lost on the Yenaran.

"It is really quite simple. The biological urge to couple is based on chemistry, a reaction one has to the chemistry of another. Our Teks began to realize that a few Servi-1's had a chemical within them that drew Mercs of the same sex, even those Mercs who were not ordinarily drawn to any other of their sex. This chemical did nothing to diminish their appreciation of the opposite sex, it simply allowed them to enjoy more diverse couplings. You are the first non-Yenaran to be able to do the same. You do not look as we do and yet, during the Linuxe, many are drawn to you. Hence, you are now Servi-1XY13."

Gee, did that make him a weird kind of bi-sexual whatever? And to think, on Earth, he was a plain old, everyday bisexual. Amazing. Jack would be so pleased. Not.

"Now you must understand your duties. While, as a Servi-1XY, you will have more comfort than others, and more freedom, your duties do not change. Once we arrive on Segev, you will be assigned a room. You will, as an XY, have a room with a private bath. We will make all effort to provide you with food that is appropriate. Your room will have a light above the door. This is very important. When lit white, you are free to roam Segev at will, to mingle with the other Servi-1's, to talk, gather together in the common area, to play games, and otherwise remain occupied. When the light is yellow, you are confined to your room and may not leave it. The yellow light signifies the arrival of the Mercs who are on leave. When the light goes orange, it means you have been chosen to serve a Merc and you are to prepare yourself as I will teach you. You will go down on your knees and await the Merc who has chosen to couple with you. You will belong to her, or him, for as long as they desire. They may use you once, and move on, or claim you for their entire leave. That is their choice. Once done with you, they will return you to your room and the light will go yellow again and remain so until you are once again chosen, or leave is terminated."

Moram moved back to the table. "The war has escalated and leaves are no longer regularly scheduled so you will never know when the light will go yellow."

Of course not.

"Now, we will begin to practice as required."

"It will not be as easy as Lord Forten believes, but I am but a lowly officer and my opinion carries little weight with the Council."

"So you're saying, what, exactly?" Jack asked as he stared out over the field that currently held over five hundred "Mercs".

"I am saying that you can teach them, but that does not mean you will succeed in getting them to use that which you teach."

"As I understand it, Major Yettel," Carter said before Jack could respond. "If your ... Mercs... don't use the techniques we teach them, you will most surely lose the war."

"That is the opinion of some, but not all, Major Carter. While it is true that the Bou'gan have changed their battle tactics, it does not mean that change is for the good of their war efforts. Some believe that--"

"How many worlds have you lost in the last gen, Yadda?"

Carter cringed at what she knew was the colonel's deliberate mispronunciation of Yettel's name.

Major Yettel's eyes narrowed. "You will be working with the finest leaders we have. You will teach them, they will teach their troops. Whatever you require, we will ensure that you have. We have created several translators so communication will be no barrier to your training sessions. You have seen and heard all the intel we possess regarding the Bou'gan and their tactics. Tomorrow, you begin. Do you have any questions?"

Jack had so many questions that he simply shook his head. Somehow he knew the answers would come as the days crawled by. He had the overwhelming desire to ask about Daniel, but he knew instinctively that he'd get no answer to that one, other than what he'd already been told. He could only pray the Yenaran were honorable.

Because if they weren't - he'd make sure, if it took all that he was - that the Yenaran fell to the Bou'gan.

The Yenaran would learn that you don't mess with SG-1 and you definitely don't mess with SG-1's archaeologist.

He was finally alone. Daniel sat down on his bed and looked around the room, his eyes not really taking anything in.

So... basically the Yenaran society condoned a kind of dom/sub philosophy when it came to pleasing the Mercs. And he was about to become a sub. Interesting. This was going to require some ... mental readjustments on his part. The scientist in him was going to have to take front and center if he was going to be able to do this.

Yeah, the scientist. The "doctor" part of him. This was a cultural thing and he was going to be able to experience it first hand. Not usually recommended, but hey. He glanced down at the bracelet and gave out with a heavy sigh. He suddenly found himself thinking back several years to Shyla's planet; to the mines.

How many days had he known luxury, food, and comfort while his teammates had suffered in the mines?

Seemed what goes around ... comes around.

More or less.

"Stand here, please."

Daniel looked at the circle on the floor and moved into it.

"Very good. Stand perfectly still and do not blink or move in any manner."

This didn't sound good.

A moment later he was bathed in a white glow. He felt nothing, but neither could he see anything beyond the white light. A few minutes later, the light was gone.

"You may move now."

Daniel stepped out of the circle. He was dying to ask what the hell had just happened, but Moram wasn't with him. Two guards had awakened him and the next thing he knew, he'd been escorted to what looked like a lab. For a few moments, he'd had visions of ... well, it was a lab. But so far, he'd only been bathed in that white light. Painless white light. He liked painless. Painless was good.

The two guards took his arms and led him out.

"Well?"

"You are lucky, as is Lord Forten. Why you chose now, on the journey to Segev, to test him is beyond me. But fortunately, his physiology is compatible."

"Will he please those who choose him?"

"Our women warriors will be... most pleased. Our male warriors, even more so."

Moram cocked his head. "How is that?"

"The human method of carrying the mating code is larger but not so large as to be uncomfortable for our Mercs. And the entryway to receive is very tight. It will bring much pleasure."

"And he can not conceive?"

"No."

"Very good. Very good indeed. Thank you, Mekka."

Sniffing disgustedly, Mekka said, "Like I said, you and Lord Forten are very lucky. What would you have done if he had not been compatible?"

Moram gave a slight shake of his head. "This was simply confirming what Lord Forten already knew, Mekka. Would he have tested an XY if he were not physically compatible? I think not." With that, he walked out the door of the examining room.

Daniel was once again alone. He sat on the edge of the bed - which was fast becoming his favorite spot - and put his head in his hands. He sure hoped that white light hadn't done anything ... odd... to him. Really.

He heard a snick of a sound and lifted his head in time to see Moram enter. The man stood silently, his eyes giving nothing away. Daniel didn't have a clue what was wrong so he simply stared back.

"Do you not see the light?"

Frowning, Daniel looked beyond Moram to the dummy light over his door - a light which was currently on - and orange.

Oh, shit. Okay, he could do this. He went to his knees and bowed his head.

The heat started slowly, but he recognized it immediately. With alarm, he looked at his left wrist... and a moment later, was writhing in pain.

Daniel opened his eyes. He was on his bed, the lighting dim.

"Do not allow that to happen again, Thirteen."

He turned his head to look blearily at Moram. He tried to form a word - any word - but found his tongue thick and his mind muddled. He nodded instead.

"Rest now. But if the light changes, do your duty, Thirteen. Do your duty."

Moram rose to his feet. "There is a meal here for you. It is no longer warm, but still edible. We will be arriving tomorrow, do not shame Lord Forten."

With that, Moram was gone.

Right. Don't shame Lord Forten. Mustn't do that, no siree.

Daniel looked at the tray on the table and groaned. No, eating wasn't at the top of his to-do list. Not if he wanted to avoid the vomit squad. He let his eyes drift shut.

Right now, he could really use a good sarcastic remark from Jack.

"How's it coming, Carter?"

"Not bad, sir."

Jack nodded. "Good." He went back to typing.

He and Carter were putting together a kind of "Play book" for their "class", which would be copied by their hosts and distributed to Mercs. Typing wasn't Jack's strong suit, but when necessary, he could get it done. And he was getting it done because he wanted this to work, and he wanted this to work fast. He wanted Daniel back and intended to ask for him if they made any kind of headway in the next few weeks. And he didn't care how happy Daniel was in whatever library or museum or whatever they'd put him in.

"Teal'c," he said without taking his eyes from the strange keyboard, "you'll handle the hand-to-hand combat techniques while Carter will take the stealth/ambush and I'll take the 'Bou'gan body is our friend' class."

Teal'c cocked his head at the last part so Jack added, "I'm the 'How to kill a Bou'gan with a paperclip' instructor."

"Ah. Yes."

Sam looked up from what she was typing to ask, "Do we know how to kill a Bou'gan with a paperclip, sir?"

"We do now," he said with a smug look. He nodded at a small book next to his keyboard. "Everything you ever wanted to know about a Bou'gan is right there."

"Perhaps I should make myself acquainted with it, if I'm to teach hand-to-hand against them," Teal'c suggested.

"Help yourself, T. Help yourself."

Jack sat back and gave out with a weary sigh. He was done. Carter's work had already been taken and replicated, and now, finally, his was ready. He looked over at his two teammates and wasn't surprised to find both of them sound asleep. Carter had her head pillowed by her arms at her work station and Teal'c was lounging on the couch, open book face down on his chest. Jack would have given anything to be able to look at another chair and find Daniel there, long legs stretched out in front of him, nose buried in a book.

He gave himself a small mental shake and got up. He took his papers and walked to the door. He opened it and the guard turned to face him. Without a word, he simply handed him the pile. The man took it and waited until Jack stepped back and closed the door.

"Carter, wake up, time to go beddy-bye," he whispered as he gave her a small shake.

"Huh?" She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. Looking around, she said, "What?"

"Bed? We're finished, the book is done. Time for bed."

She got up slowly even as she said, through a yawn, "Yes, sir."

While she straightened up her workspace, Jack moved to Teal'c and got him up.

When they were all standing in the middle of the room, he said, "So tomorrow - it starts. You ready?"

Sam looked at Teal'c, who nodded. She looked back at Jack. "We're ready, sir."

His first view of Segev was rather surprising. It was the bluest planet he'd ever seen from space. And it was small. Very small. Like a moon.

An hour later, the ship was docked and he was being led to a shuttle. Another thirty minutes, and he was standing on Segev. Blue sky, incredible blue sky, and yes, trees. Lots and lots of trees. Palm trees.

Jack would have been overjoyed.

From space, he'd been able to tell that the planet was mostly water, dotted with a few islands, and now, he was experiencing a tropical paradise. The sun was warm on his skin, the breeze light, and the scents that surrounded him, very tropical.

"There are no officers on Segev at the moment so you have freedom to look as we escort you to your quarters, Thirteen. Once settled, I will take you to the Common room and the Pleasure rooms. Then you will be on your own. Any further discipline required will be metered out by your claimant, and the punishment will be of their choosing, within specific guidelines. Do you understand?"

Daniel nodded, not understanding at all. Okay, so he understood. He just didn't ... understand. Or maybe his mind was shutting down. Yeah, that was probably it. If he were halfway lucky, his body would follow.

Times like this it didn't pay to be human. Wishing he were Reece's counterpart, he followed Moram.

Two Weeks later -

Jack stormed into their suite and threw his cap across the room. Behind him, Carter and Teal'c kind of slunk in, both choosing to stay safely behind the angry man.

"FUCK THEM ALL!"

"Indeed--"

"Sir--"

"You heard me. I said, 'FUCK THEM ALL'."

"Major Opac listened and did as instructed, as did his team," Teal'c said, trying to placate Jack.

Jack whirled on him and held up one finger. "ONE! ONE TEAM OUT OF TEN!"

He pulled off his vest, dropped it to the floor and sat down on the couch. "God, two fucking weeks we've worked with them and nothing. They simply don't get it. How can they be so stupid? They're getting their collective asses kicked all over the fucking galaxy and still they won't learn."

"I disagree, O'Neill. They are learning all that we teach. They simply are not yet convinced our tactics are required."

"They're very dependant on the technology, sir," Sam added as she removed her hat and ruffled her hair out of its helmet-hair look.

"Yeah, well, that technology is getting them killed. That's why we're here, and the sooner these bozos get on board, the sooner they'll start winning and we'll have Daniel back."

"Yes, sir." She glanced at the door to her room and gave a half-hearted jerk of her hand. "I'm going to take a shower before dinner."

Without looking up, Jack waved a hand in dismissal. As soon as her door was closed, Teal'c said, "You must control your temper, O'Neill. I know you want DanielJackson with us, but getting angry at the high ranking Mercs is not the way. They must trust us and, yes, we must earn their respect if we are to succeed."

Jack pulled off his fingerless gloves and slapped them against his thigh. "I know, I know." He ran his fingers through his short hair, the gesture one of supreme frustration. "He should be here with us. He's as much a member of this team as you or Carter, and as much of a soldier, but don't you dare tell him I told you that."

Teal'c gave his friend a quasi-smile. "I will refrain from sharing such a compliment with DanielJackson. It would simply go to his head and we both know how egotistical he is."

"Ah, you and your Jaffa humor," Jack said with the first hint of a smile he'd shown in the last fourteen days. "Daniel and the word egotistical? Not even nodding acquaintances."

"Indeed."

"So... got any ideas on how to earn their trust, Teal'c?"

"I believe I do. Perhaps we could take a recent loss and reenact it? Only... using our combat techniques?"

"I knew I loved you for a reason, T."

"Indeed."

"You know," Jack mused as he rubbed his chin. "I'm thinking we replace 'indeed' with ... 'fer sure'. From now on, instead of indeed, you say, fer sure."

Teal'c's left eyebrow rose, offering Jack his non-verbal "indeed."

Daniel dropped the tile and grinned. "Buno!"

The young man across from him shook his head in disgust. "You learn a game in a day, a game it takes many of us weeks to learn, and already you win."

Both men began to re-gather the small, white tiles, flipping them over as they did. "It is a game with subtext, Reno. If you worked with Jack O'Neill every day for... well, never mind how many years... you'd be good at subtext too."

"O'Neill? He is the man who leads your team, yes?"

Daniel nodded. "He is most definitely our leader."

"There is much talk that he will be able to turn the tide in the war." Remo turned the timepiece over and each of them flipped over a tile and moved into their respective game circle on the table. "Do you believe that he and Esgeewon can do this?"

"I believe that if the tide can be turned, Jack, Sam and Teal'c are the people who can help the Yenaran do it."

"Then I too have faith," Remo said as he pulled another tile. He didn't like the design and he grimaced. "I have terrible luck when I play with you, my friend."

Daniel grinned and stretched, the thin white tunic riding up and revealing his abdomen. He was used to so much of his body being on display, but he was also used to the fact that the other Servi-1's didn't look and didn't care. They were on Segev to serve their beloved Mercs, not each other. In fact, as he'd learned in the last two weeks, Servi-1's never entered into any kind of sexual relationship with each other. Friendships, yes, sex, no. For the last fourteen days, other than missing Jack and his teammates, Daniel had never felt more free and unshackled. There were no demands put on him, nothing expected of him. He had total freedom on Segev, thanks to an escalated war effort and no leaves granted or earned. There'd been no Mercs on Segev since his arrival.

And he actually felt guilty about it - when he wasn't feeling supremely relieved.

He knew his teammates were working hard, thanks to the news constantly broadcast on the vid in the Common room. One good thing about the Yenarans was that they believed in total truth. Everything the government knew - the public knew, including the lowly servi's.

Daniel glanced up at the vid and noticed that the only station the Yenarans had, their news station, was re-showing a recent squirmish that had taken place over a planet called Tibevet. The interesting thing about the battle was that while technology raged war in the skies over the planet, the Bou'gan were attacking on the ground. And winning. The final result was that the unheard of - but rapidly becoming very heard -- "in person" attack had won the Bou'gan another city on Tibevet. The government "feeder", the agent responsible for giving the people their news, came back on the screen and behind him, a picture of ....

Daniel's eyes widened. He was staring at his teammates.

Okay, SG-1 was old news but this was the first time the government had actually shown his friends. And there they were. Jack, front and center, Sam just off his right shoulder, and Teal'c off his left. Jack's arms were crossed and his cap pushed back on his head: a sure sign that he was angry.

Daniel focused in on the words....

//... and so far, the teams chosen to work with the Tauri's have undergone strenuous training in hand-to-hand combat, covert operations, and specialized training in how to neutralize a Bou'gan through....//

The vid winked out as the lights above the door ...went yellow.

Remo jumped to his feet, his expression joyful. "They come," he announced unnecessarily.

Stunned, Daniel watched as all the Servi-1's in the room stopped whatever they were doing and started moving toward the door. Remo motioned to him to follow but Daniel found himself frozen.

"Come, Daniel, hurry. You must be in your quarters when the ship docks. It will not take long before you will know if you have been fortunate enough to be chosen."

When Daniel didn't move immediately, Remo walked back to him and took his arm. "Quickly, Daniel. And remember, no names until the lights go white again."

He led Daniel out and over to their building across the Common Circle. The whole city was designed around the Common Circle, with three dorms bordering it and the others spiraling outward. The higher the ranking of the Servi-1 (based on number of times chosen), the closer their dorm to the Common Circle. Daniel was in the smallest, closest dorm, which also made it the most desired. He'd been housed there because he was a Servi-1XY. As he followed Remo back to their dorm, he wondered what would happen if he were never chosen.

And yes, he figured that was exactly what would happen. One brief "test" with Forten and a few Mercs did not an XY make. Would they let him rejoin his teammates or move him to a dorm so far out it would take him days to get back into the city?

"You remember your training, Thirteen?" Remo asked, already back into the servi mode.

"I remember," Daniel said as they took the stairs up to the second floor. On the landing, Remo nodded, grinned again, and said, "Good luck, then. See you when alert is over."

Remo turned left and hurried to his room while Daniel, at a much slower pace, moved towards his. Once inside, he went to the window and looked out onto the city.

According to his training, it would take less than an hour before the Merc officers and war heroes disembarked, settled in, and went to the Holo-room to choose their service providers, as Daniel had come to call them all.

He still found it odd that a bunch of high-ranking officers would check-out a small holographic device, play it, and watch a parade of Servi-1's in order to make their choices. Of course, they didn't do it all at the same time, no, it was based on ranking and importance. War heroes were the only exception as the officers who came to Segev had long ago agreed that whenever there were war heroes, they'd be allowed first choice. The reasoning behind this generosity, according to Moram, was that the heroes weren't likely to ever make it to Segev again.

Remo had explained that of the officers who were eligible for leave on Segev, only thirty percent were female. Which was why the majority of Servi-1's on Segev were ... female. And why he was so valued already, even though he'd yet to be chosen.

He was no stranger to same sex ... sex. Okay, that was probably not well said. Hell, he was a stranger to male-female sex. He was a stranger to all but one-handed sex. He should be looking forward to the opportunity to have sex.

If it were his choice.

But it wasn't.

So he wasn't.

But he was ready. His mind was in sync with what was expected, the scientist in him getting ready to study and observe, as he'd been doing for the last two weeks.

Daniel turned around, walked over to the bed and sat down. Damn, he really wished the Yenarans were into books. But they weren't. Typical war-based culture. The lack of reading material - hell, the lack of writing material - had been one of the most difficult parts of the last two weeks.

No libraries, no records, nothing preserved. The only thing of possible interest was something Remo had called the "guardio" which was ten miles outside of the city. It was apparently a ruin that no one today knew anything about. Ordinarily, it would have been one of the first places Daniel would have gone, but it would be some time before he would be trusted enough to roam that freely.

Not that Daniel understood that kind of thinking. After all, where the hell could he go?

Where could he escape to? The planet was mostly water and a few islands, all populated by Servis. The main city, Geonyd, was the resort, while the other islands held Servi-2's and 3's as well as the only defenses for Segev.

Daniel glanced up at the light over his door.

Still yellow.

He expected it would remain so, because one other thing he'd noticed in the last two weeks was that he was the oldest Servi-1 on Segev. He was ten years older than Remo. Five years older than the next eldest in Geonyd.

Of course, he was also the only one with blue eyes and pale skin. But really, blue eyes or not, you'd think the differences in his facial features would be enough to turn off most Yenarans. Really.

Damn, he wished he had his glasses. Nothing like a four-eyes to turn off a prospective ... suitor? Customer?

He glanced up at the light.

Still yellow.

This was looking more and more hopeful.

He started tapping his foot.

Really, the light should be red. Red light district.

He glanced up again... just as his light blinked from yellow to... orange.

Oh ... shit.

Shitshitshitshitshit....

Damn it. What the hell was wrong with him?

He'd accepted. He'd been ready. His scientific mind had thoroughly absorbed what he was being asked - okay - told - to do to serve out his six months while Jack taught the Yenarans how to fight. It was a cultural thing and who knew better when it came to understanding and accepting... cultural things?

Yep, he'd been ready.

So could someone PLEASE tell him why, when the light in his room went orange, he failed to go to his knees in preparation for the man or woman who'd chosen him?

No?

Neither could he.

Even as he'd sat at the table and the door had opened and his mind - the scientific one - had yelled, "GET THE FUCK ON YOUR KNEES!" he'd stayed put, hands folded on the table, eyes on the door.

Hadn't he and all parts of his mind agreed that it was just sex? That, in fact, it could be pretty good? After all, how long had he gone without? Don't answer that. The answer could be too embarrassing.

Yes, he'd been ready.

Until the light went orange.

When the door had opened, and a man, a tall, huge man, had stepped in, he still hadn't moved in spite of his stern lecture to his body.

What the hell had gone wrong?

He knew -- in the other part of his brain - that cultural thing or not, accepting or not, he had NO choice. He knew that and so had tried to make it acceptable. Convinced himself that it was necessary.

Until the light went orange.

Damn. Didn't he know what would happen by not going to his knees? Hadn't Moram told him over and over again? Well... yeah.

And still... still... he'd remained seated, eyes showing nothing, chin lifted fractionally, expression, somber.

He was a fool.

Daniel gripped the sheet under his body and twisted the material as he hissed in pain - again.

He was the biggest fool in this or any galaxy. And now he had the lacerations on his back, legs and ass to prove it. Thirty lashes with a nifty kind of whip that would have made a masochist proud.

Daniel was no masochist.

On the other hand - had anyone died more often than he? No.

Maybe he was a masochist. New wrinkle in his personality.

One among many. And gosh, now he'd have the nice patterns on his back to match the wrinkled personality.

The door to his room opened and the tall major walked in.

"You were foolish, Thirteen, but I believe I can understand your reluctance. You were not born to this. It was wrong of Forten and Moram to believe that you could simply become a Servi-1."

Daniel was on his stomach and wearing nothing but a soft, silky sheet that barely covered him. He would dearly have loved to have pulled it up further, but he was probably not enough of a masochist to enjoy the pain of a sheet over the open wounds on his back. He didn't turn his head or acknowledge the man, hoping against hope that he'd leave and go chose another companion for his leave. The dip of his bed told him that wasn't likely to happen.

"This is a cream developed by our Tek-2's. It will take away the pain and promote swift healing. There will be scars, but they will be minimized."

Daniel felt something cold on his upper back, by his right shoulder, and a moment later, could feel the man's fingers as he spread the cream down each mark left by the whip.

Okay... nice cream.

Very nice cream.

"I would have preferred not having to use the lash, but of the possible prescribed punishments, it was the least harmful. Trust me, the second possible methods of discipline will be even more painful than this, should you not follow procedure in the future."

The cream continued to remove the pain and Daniel found himself almost drifting off as his muscles relaxed under the man's expertise. He supposed he should find it weird that he was so comfortable, considering his naked state and the fact that the man who was working so hard to make him feel better, was also the man who'd delivered the blows. Not to mention that the guy had been expecting some hot sex.

Well, sex, anyway.

"You will sleep now. Unfortunately, my leave is short and by the time you awaken, I will have been returned to duty."

Daniel felt the man's hand rest on the small of his back.

"I wish things could have been different. I would have enjoyed spending several hours with you, Thirteen. You are truly unusual looking. It gives me pleasure to gaze upon you. But perhaps I will have another opportunity."

The bed creaked as the man rose to his feet. Now Daniel could feel the man's hand on his head, fingers stroking his hair.

"So soft. I like the texture, so different from our own. I have a Perigi and I believed that her fur was the softest thing on my world. I will now have to revise that opinion."

Daniel felt a pat on his shoulder.

"Do as you are told, Thirteen. The next officer that chooses you may not be as understanding. I would not like to see you injured further. Take care."

He heard the soft footfalls as the man moved away. A moment later, his door was opened and then closed.

He was alone.

Daniel allowed himself to drift away. A Jack dream wouldn't be bad right about now....

Six weeks later -

"YES!"

Jack watched from the balcony overlooking the faux-battlefield as Blue Squadron outflanked the Red Squadron. Stealth won out and the Red Squadron was history.

"That was very well done," Teal'c observed. "I believe I owe you a quarter, O'Neill."

"Ah, the joys of heavy betting," Jack said as he gleefully rubbed his hands together.

"They've come a long way, sir," Sam said from her spot behind him.

"Yes, they have. Finally. I think this will work. That scenario was a complete repeat of the Bou'gan victory on Tepeto. Only this time, our side won."

"Your idea to use actual battles where the Bou'gan won through physical combat was a winner, Teal'c," Sam said with a grin.

"Ya think?"

Teal'c remained silent, but his smile said it all.

Jack turned away and faced his teammates. "Maybe now Forten will allow Daniel to rejoin us. I think it's time I meet with him again."

Daniel stared up at the tower, his expression suffused with awe. It rose at least three stories into the sky and had no apparent doors. The only openings were at the top of the spire, but were nothing more than three small carved-out squares. The outer walls were covered with a delicate design that seemed to match the swirls of the sandy dunes that served as a backdrop to the tower.

"Remo, this is ... this is incredible."

"Why? It is not ours."

Looking at his friend, Daniel said, "You don't know that. Your ancestors could have built this gens ago, but since the wars, your people have kept no records other than wins and losses with the Bou'gan. All that you were is now lost to you." Even as he spoke, he was touching the wall in front of him, his fingers tracing the delicate patterns that covered it.

"I do not understand you, Daniel."

"Don't worry, my teammates say the same thing. I'm used to it."

"At least you are finally accepting the honor of being a Servi-1. A few weeks ago, I despaired for you."

Daniel stiffened slightly, but the strange structure in front of him managed to keep him grounded. Not that he couldn't agree with Remo. A few weeks ago, he'd despaired of himself. After recovering from the first beating, he'd given himself a stern lecture and when, three days later, the lights had gone yellow again, he was fully prepared to go to his knees if his light went orange.

Which it had.

And he hadn't. Gone to his knees.

It had taken five beatings -- each one progressively worse -- and a visit from Moram, who told him that if he could not "conform", he would indeed be reunited with his team. But the "lovely major" would take his place on Segev.

At the time, he'd thought it an odd threat. After all, he'd been separated because he wasn't a soldier, so what would be gained by removing Sam and replacing her with him? But Moram had correctly read his thought process and had taken great joy in telling him how much the Merc officers had already learned from "Esgeewon" and that "Colonel O'Neill and the great Jaffa, Teal'c" would be more than enough to continue the teachings. Daniel had understood in that moment that Moram was deadly serious. If he didn't obey, Sam would take his place.

The idea of Sam suffering a single beating with the lash - and she would because she'd refuse to go to her knees as well - was more than enough to convince Daniel.

The next time his light went orange and the door to his room opened, the high-ranking Merc who stepped inside found a pliant, subservient man on his knees, head bowed.

Since then, well, he preferred not to dwell on the weeks "since then". It was just his typical luck that there'd been a lull in the war - thanks to some Bou'gan festival - and the Segev "pleasure light", as he'd come to call it, had been perpetually yellow. And his light - perpetually orange.

The only reason he and Remo were free now was that the Bou'gan festival was evidently over and things had heated up again. Badly. In fact, Daniel and the other Servi's had enjoyed almost a week of white lights. Which had, in turn, prompted Daniel to begin to explore.

The idea of sitting in his room - a room he no longer found comfortable - or in the Common room was just too ... no. Just no. Too much time to think, to dwell. To dwell on not a few Yenaran officers whose idea of good clean sex bore no resemblance to his. To dwell on men who thought pain was a neat way to enjoy sex.

Not that there hadn't been some normal Yenaran, because there had. And a couple of female Mercs that had shown up on Segev and chosen him as well. And they all should have been more enjoyable than they'd been. After all, sex was sex and a guy should be happy to get it when he could - especially knowing that eventually, it would be back to the one-handed version.

Or not.

"You must know the way in, Remo. Yes?" he asked Remo, who'd been more than willing to guide him after he'd expressed an interest in exploring.

"Yes, we discovered the entrance many months ago. But there is nothing of interest inside, Daniel." Then he smiled. "On the other hand, this is the most emotion I've seen from you in weeks, so I shall not complain. Come with me."

Following behind the younger man, Daniel said, "Sorry, Remo."

"Do not apologize, my friend. I finally understand. My world is not yours, and while I do not understand yours, I find myself accepting of how strange this must be - and how uncomfortable." He paused and faced Daniel. "But you are a true XY, as we've all seen. You have been chosen every time, and by both male and female Mercs. I truly never thought to see an XY. And while I know you do not understand how important you are, or what a gift you have, well, I would give anything to be an XY."

Daniel regarded Remo for a moment, his eyes narrowed in thought. Finally ignoring the tower behind him, he said, "Would you, Remo? Would you? What if you could go anywhere you wanted to go, be anything you wanted to be... what would you do then?"

"I do not understand."

"What if there were no war and you could spend the rest of your days with... Major Caxe? That's my world, Remo. Oh, we have wars, don't misunderstand. But we can be whatever we wish to be, and even if we chose to fight in the war, when it's over, we are what we were before the war. We could be a teacher, a singer, a banker, a cook, a salesperson, a cop, or a housewife. And we could be with the one person we wanted to be with."

Remo shook his head. "What are these things, Daniel? What is a teacher? A singer? Or a banker? These titles mean nothing to me."

"Remo, don't you sometimes wish you could be a Merc? Fight with Major Caxe? By her side?"

For the first time, Remo was uneasy. His cheeks went red as he looked down at the ground. "I... would give anything to be a Merc - and to fight by her side."

"And yet, because you look as you do, because you are slight, and slender, you have been told what you must be. And you must service all who choose you, and stand by while Major Caxe chooses others to service her because you are unavailable."

The red tinge spread across Remo's features and Daniel was immediately sorry for what he'd said. He reached out and rested a hand on Remo's shoulder. "I shouldn't have said--"

"No, no, you are right," Remo said, his voice expressing his wonder at the truth of it. "I... I begin to see." He rubbed the back of his neck and finally looked up at Daniel again. "I have... feelings... for Marisk. Feelings I should not have."

"That's called love on my world, Remo. We go through our whole lives looking for it and many of us find it and a rare few find it... forever. We get married, which means we commit ourselves to one person. We build lives together, live together, and have children."

"Married." Remo seemed to roll the word around his tongue. "I like the sound of that. Married. Like a Teo-bond?"

"Teo-bond?"

"Many years ago a very few were allowed this bonding. They were allowed to live together. But as the war escalated, even the Teo-bond ended." His gaze became wistful as he added, "But even if it existed today, I would not be eligible. I am a ... Servi-1. I could never claim Marisk for my Teo."

"I'm sorry, Remo."

"I think I would like a world such as yours. Thank you for sharing this with me. I have learned much."

"And now you know what a teacher is. On my world, we go to school for many years to learn about our world, our history, the history of other countries and generations. We read many books on so many subjects, it would boggle your mind, Remo. I learned at an early age to love the cultures of the past and how they could tell us so much about ourselves. Our future."

"School? This sounds similar to what a young man or woman must attend to become a Merc or a Tek. They must attend many classes to learn about war or the technology that allows us to fight our enemy."

"We have schools for our military too, Remo. But a school can be so much more than that. You can learn about music--"

"Music. That is what you showed us all several days ago, yes? You created ... what did you call it again?"

"A drum," Daniel answered with a grin.

"Yes, the drum. And we... danced. Yes?"

"Yep. We danced to the music, to the song.

"The beat, as you called it, was quite... energizing."

"Exactly," Daniel said, pleased. He waved at the building in front of them. "This is a kind of art, Remo. See how pleasing it is to the eye? How our gaze can be drawn--"

"Upward, to the sky," Remo finished in delight. "I never saw this before. It was just this odd tower-like structure. But now... now I can see how it melds into the landscape--"

"Exactly. It was built to be a part of its surroundings. Not jarring to the eye but floating upward to match the dunes."

"Yes, I see. Our structures simply serve a purpose and there is no care in how or where they are placed. It is strictly function, no beauty or... or--"

"Design," Daniel finished for him. "But this structure represents so much more, Remo. The chances are that, once we are inside, it will tell me about your past and your ancestors."

Looking skeptical, Remo said, "This I must see. Come." He took Daniel's arm and pretended not to notice when Daniel slipped out of his grasp.

They walked around the building to the side. Remo stopped and said, "This is the only way in that we were able to find when we were first transferred to Segev."

Daniel looked at the archway and could see the outline of the entrance. On the left side was a small square and he could guess exactly how the door would open. He walked up to the square and twisted it. There was a scraping sound, and the door slid up.

"There are torches just inside, on the wall, to your right. We left them last time we visited."

Daniel nodded, stepped in, and in the dim light, spotted the small shelf and the torch, and lifted it up. He flicked the bottom and the torch ignited. He had to give the Yenarans credit. With energy sources so valuable, they'd managed to find a way to create an automatically combustible torch.

The tower structure was thin so inside it was fairly confining, space wise. What surprised Daniel as he lifted his torch high, was the fact that the tower had no floors. It was completely open inside, the ceiling being the top of the tower. Light filtered in from the small squares above, but not nearly enough to reveal what was on the walls. It took Daniel's - and then Remo's - torch to do that.

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise and puzzlement.

The walls were covered with writings, but what surprised him was that the writings seemed to be a mixture of everything he'd found on Ernest's planet. He was staring at a language that combined that of the Asgard, the Nox, the Ancients, and the Furlings.

And it made no sense whatsoever.

"Oh, my God," Daniel said as he turned in a circle, his gaze moving rapidly from top to bottom and side to side as he pivoted.

"They are just ... markings, Daniel."

"No," Daniel whispered. "This... is ... I can't begin to explain it, Remo. But trust me, this is... unbelievable."

Jack stormed into their suite, his anger preceding him thanks to the string of curses heard by Sam and Teal'c before Jack actually entered.

"I take it Lord Forten turned down your request to have DanielJackson returned to us?"

"How'd you guess?" Jack growled out. He strode over to the balcony and rested his hands on the railing, his fingers curling tightly around the metal.

Sam moved out to join him, as did Teal'c. "Sir, the chances are pretty good that Daniel is happy where he is. In his element, if you know what I mean."

"That's not really the point, is it, Carter?" Jack said quietly, his anger dissipating in the face of his failure to get his team together.

"Isn't it? I think Daniel would say different."

Jack turned his head to stare at his 2IC. "What makes you so certain that Daniel is happy? That he's doing anything he enjoys? Have you seen any evidence of books, other than manuscripts on war and technology? Any signs of anything Daniel would be interested in?"

"Sir, we've only seen this compound. There's no telling what's outside."

Jack shook his head and turned back to gaze out over the grounds. After a few moments, he said, "I have a bad feeling, Carter. And when I have these feelings, I prefer to have my team together. And I don't think Daniel is having the time of his life. When he's separated from us, he worries about us, or didn't you know that?"

"Sir, Daniel can get so absorbed in things that he barely remembers to eat or sleep. I seriously doubt that he's worrying about us."

"I do not believe you understand DanielJackson, Major Carter. O'Neill is correct. As long as we're separated, DanielJackson will worry."

Giving up, Carter shrugged and turned toward the suite. "Dinner will be here soon. I'm going to clean up."

When they were alone, Jack said, "I don't like this, Teal'c. Not one bit."

"I feel much the same way, O'Neill. But I do not understand Major Carter. I have always believed that she and DanielJackson were much like siblings and yet, she shows no concern for his well-being."

"That's not entirely accurate, Teal'c. She just doesn't see a need for it. She's thoroughly convinced that he's fine and wallowing in cultural," he made little quotes in the air, "stuff."

Teal'c looked away from his friend, his gaze drawn to something only he could see. "I fear that she is wrong," he said, his voice low and soft.

"So do I, Teal'c. So do I."

"Daniel, that is the alert. Can you not hear it?"

The man in question was deep in the process of studying the walls and Remo had to pull at him. "Daniel, we must go. Now."

"What?"

"The alert. The Mercs. We must go." With that, Remo pulled harder and began to drag Daniel out of the tower. "You can return when they are gone. But you can not be found in disobeyance again."

With great reluctance, Daniel dropped the torch and allowed himself to be taken out of the tower. Once outside, they both realized how far they were from the city. Given the amount of time from the first sounding - or blinking - of the alert, they looked at each other... and began to run.

They made it mere minutes before the ship actually docked.

"UNAUTHORIZED 'GATE ACTIVATION!"

Hammond, his stomach rolling, rose from behind his desk and made his way down to the control room. Let it be SG-1, he prayed. Just let it be SG-1.

"Sir, it's the Tok'ra," Davis said as Hammond came up behind him.

"Open the iris."

Okay, not SG-1, but maybe almost as good. They'd been trying to reach the Tok'ra since SG-1's disappearance, but with the alliance between Earth, the Tokr'a and the Jaffa dissolved, there'd been no word. Hammond hurried down to the 'Gate room, hoping that it would be Jacob coming through the wormhole.

His prayers were answered - this time.

"Jacob."

"George." Jacob walked down the ramp, eyes searching for his daughter.

Hammond, seeing the look, said, "SG-1 is missing, Jacob. I was hoping your visit was because you might have heard something."

Jacob schooled his expression into one of his old military "I'm a general" expressions and said, "Briefing room?"

"Of course. Follow me."

"So that's all we know. And since you didn't know, I have to assume that your unscheduled visit--"

"I didn't know, you're right, George, but I suspected. And that's why I'm here. You've now confirmed my worst suspicion."

Hammond leaned forward expectantly and waited. Smiling slightly, Jacob said, "The Dorni Galaxy. Several planets occupied by either a race called the Yenar or the Bou'gan. They have been at war for centuries. A war that until a couple hundred years ago was basically useless. They battled, they tied. If one can tie in battle. Their technology was so even that the war never changed. Not for thousands of years."

Knowing that Jacob's words would eventually divulge his "suspicions", Hammond asked, "What happened two hundred years ago?"

"The Bou'gan changed their tactics. It was an extremely slow process and all the information we've been able to gather suggests that they were learning in fits and starts, and from... the Goa'uld. We don't believe the Goa'uld have ever been to the Dorni Galaxy because none of the 'Gate addresses on the Cartouche were in that galaxy. But that doesn't mean the Bou'gan haven't been to worlds inhabited by the Goa'uld. Hence the change in their military tactics."

"You are going somewhere with this, right?"

"As I said, a couple of hundred years ago, the war changed and the Yenaran began to lose. But a few weeks ago, word came that something was changing--"

"Wait. Why would the Tokr'a be so interested--"

"The Yenaran have the ability to terraform."

Hammond blinked at him. "Terraform. As in ... create a planet?"

Jacob nodded. "Not even the Bou'gan have that capability. One of our new agendas is to approach the Yenarans and offer our covert expertise in return for the technology to terraform. Unfortunately, every time we've managed to get our hands on a ship that could make the journey, well," he held out his hands, palms up, "we had other more important missions, as you may recall."

"What aren't you saying?"

"Through several of our spies, word has reached us that the Yenaran have already received help in changing their military tactics. This unexpected assistance has come in the form of three Tauri."

Jacob let his words settle as he watched Hammond.

"Three?"

Jacob nodded. "Three."

Hammond stood. "Come with me, Jacob."

Jacob rose and followed him back down to the control room. Hammond walked over to Davis and said, "Bring up the planet address where SG-1 disappeared."

"Yes, sir."

A moment later, the address appeared on the computer screen. Hammond tapped the plasma surface. "This one came from the addresses downloaded by Colonel O'Neill. Sergeant, put it up on the map simulator."

The screen changed and he nodded excitedly. "That's it. That's the Dorni Galaxy, George."

For the first time in weeks, Hammond felt hope blossom - in spite of the fact that there were, apparently, only three Tauri.

Three weeks later -

Daniel lay on his side as Darvet ran a hand over his hip. "You have been very quiet this time, Thirteen."

"You wish to talk?" Daniel asked.

"Usually you are full of questions. But this time, you have been uncharacteristically silent."

Darvet was Major Darvet and was the same Yenaran who had been Daniel's first ... customer. And deliverer of his first punishment. Since then, Darvet, a much decorated hero, had been a constant visitor who enjoyed his conversations - among other things -- with Daniel that he'd chosen him each time. He'd been very pleased to find that Daniel had learned his lesson and had settled into being a Servi-1XY.

Darvet ran a finger along Daniel's jaw as he said, "Would it surprise you to know how hard it is for me to leave you each time?"

Daniel turned over at that and looked at the man who somehow had managed to take his leave on Segev no less than ten times already. Daniel stared at him before finally saying, "Yes, yes it would. I'm a Servi-1XY."

Darvet sighed and moved to sit up. "That is the correct thing to say, but you are also Taur'i. When your comrades finish the task set before them, you will leave here. You are not a true Servi-1, nor do I fool myself into believing that you are."

Sitting up himself, Daniel stared at the man. Hearing Forten, and even Moram, tell him that when Jack and the rest of SG-1 completed the training of the Mercs, he'd be reunited with them was one thing, but hearing it from Darvet....

"How close are they to success?" he asked almost breathlessly.

"Very. Unfortunately, I believe it may be too late for us. The Bou'gan have raised the stakes. They know what we are doing and they are moving fast. We were able to stop them from taking over Nartu, thanks to a campaign designed by your Colonel O'Neill, but the Bou'gan simply doubled their efforts over Piet and thousands died." He shivered slightly at the thought. "I do not know where all of this will end, Thirteen."

Before Daniel could answer, the communication device worn by all Mercs buzzed. Darvet reached for it and turned it on. "Darvet here," he said. "What? Now? How soon? What of... yes, sir, I understand that, but... yes... I see. Yes, sir, immediately."

Darvet faced Daniel, his features contorted by shock and ... fear. He stared at Daniel for what seemed an age, and finally said, "Get dressed. Now." With that, Darvet rose and began to put his uniform on. When Daniel didn't move, he repeated his order. "Get dressed, Daniel. Now."

Surprised by the use of his name, Daniel sat up and swung his legs over the end of the bed. "What's going on?"

"The Bou'gan just took the capitol city of Orseaus. They will be coming here next. We've been ordered off and to Amen-Tor2. We will put up a defense there. If Amen-Tor falls, so falls the Yenaran."

Daniel almost jumped to his feet. "What about... what about my friends?"

"They are safe on Amen-Tor3. But you... you are not. That's why you must dress now. I'm taking you with me."

Amen-Tor2 had to be close to Amen-Tor3, right? Right. Daniel got dressed. Five minutes later they were heading downstairs, but not alone. Other officers were coming out of the rooms and almost running, but Daniel noticed no other Servi-1's. When they hit the Common Circle, Daniel could see the panic on the faces of the Mercs around him. They were hurrying toward the docking station and he could feel himself being pushed along by Darvet. But as he looked around him, again, he could see no Servi's at all. No Remo.

"DARVET, OVER HERE!"

Darvet turned and waved at a man who hurried toward them. When he reached their side, he said breathlessly, "We have very little time."

"I know," Darvet said as they began to walk again.

The man who'd joined them looked strangely at Daniel and finally said, "Darvet, you can't--"

"But I am. He is coming with me."

The man took Darvet's arm and pulled sharply. "Darvet, that is not possible. He is nothing but a Servi."

Darvet whirled on the man and started to say something but Daniel interrupted. "What of the other Servi-1's? Are you saying that they must remain behind to be taken by the Bou'gan?"

"You are only Servis. You have no purpose other than to--"

Daniel turned on Darvet. "These women and men serve you with all that they are. They live to give you what you need so that you can concentrate on fighting. And yet, you would leave them to be slaughtered? What is it, exactly, that you are fighting for? The right to keep on fighting?" He waved a hand around them, "Look at this place. At it's beauty. How do you feel when you come here? Isn't it like home? Isn't this why you're fighting?"

Both Yenarans looked at Daniel with strange expressions on their faces. Slowly Darvet looked around, his companion doing the same. Daniel could see the uncertainty in their eyes and he pounced on it. "Stay, all of you. Protect this place."

Eyes still taking in the beauty of Segev, the other Merc said, "There are only a hundred of us...."

"And one hundred and fifty Servi, with another hundred on the other two islands. They can fight by your side. The Bou'gan will land, they will not use their technology, you know this. It can work for us," Daniel urged.

Darvet nodded slowly. "There's more than enough weaponry in the Armory... we could--"

"NO! We must do as we have been ordered, Darvet. You know this. We are not needed here, but we are needed on Amen-Tor2. We must go NOW."

The glaze of indecision dissolved and Darvet nodded. "Yes. Now." He grabbed Daniel's arm and started moving him toward the station. Daniel pulled away.

"No. I won't leave them."

"Thirteen, I'm giving you a chance to live. Come with me now," Darvet almost pleaded.

"There is no time for this, Darvet. We have--"

"SHUT UP, Kioat, just... shut up. Daniel, you MUST come with me now."

Daniel shook his head. "I can't. I won't leave them."

Kioat took Darvet's arm and yanked hard. With a look of infinite sadness, Darvet reached out, touched first Daniel's hair, then his lower lip. Finally he took Daniel's hand and pressed something into it. "This will open the armory."

Daniel looked down at the key in his hand as Darvet hurried away.

"What do you mean 'are they ready'?"

Forten straightened his shoulders. "I mean just that, O'Neill. The Bou'gan have taken Orseaus and they will soon attack Amen-Tor2. If it falls, there is no hope."

Jack looked over at Teal'c and Carter. Teal'c looked worried, even for a Jaffa, and Carter had gone pale.

Turning back to Forten, Jack asked, "How will you fight them?"

"Exactly as you have taught us. We know nothing else will work. This is our only chance. The Bou'gan assault is massive and if we stop them now, we stop them for all time."

"What about Daniel? Is he safe?"

Forten paused for just a moment, debated telling the truth, then opted for a lie. "He is safe and well. Once the troops have been deployed, the four of you will be taken to where we found you. You will be free to go. Now, are they ready?"

"They're as ready as they'll ever be. They know what to do, the only question is - will they do it."

"They have no choice. We try what is new, or we fall. Wait here, be patient, and soon, I will send men to you in order to transport you back to the site of the Porta Anneau. It may be a few days at most."

In a swirl of robes, Forten was gone.

"Well, isn't that just peachy," Jack groused. "We get to sit and wait and hope the Mercs are successful."

"Should we not be prepared--"

"We're prepared, Teal'c," Jack said as he walked to the door. He opened it, smiled at the two guards, and shut it. Facing his people, he said, "When they leave - we leave. If they don't leave, we've won and we leave. See? It's good to have a plan."

"Apparently, Major Carter, we are in good hands," Teal'c said dryly.

Jack cocked his head. "Sarcasm, T? Was that sarcasm?"

"If the glove fits, you should take the pan out of the oven," Teal'c said mildly.

Jack's eyes narrowed. He took two steps toward Teal'c and said, "Daniel taught you that, didn't he?"

Teal'c simply stared at him, innocence personified.

"Oh, yeah, that was a Daniel line. You think I'm not going to recognize Glowly Clap-trap when I hear it? And just how long have you been waiting to use it, T?"

"I take the ... Tenth."

Sam nudged him and whispered loudly, "Fifth."

"Where?" Teal'c said, looking around angrily.

"Not Fifth, the replicator, Teal'c," Jack said in disgust. "She meant, 'Take the Fifth'."

"Ah. Then I take the ... Fifth. And since we are once again speaking of DanielJackson - do you believe he is indeed, safe?"

"Let me put it this way: if he's not, the Yenarans will think the Bou'gan are dairy farmers compared to me."

"Daniel?"

Eyes still on the key in his hand, Daniel said in an oddly detached voice, "The Bou'gan are on their way. The Mercs have left us undefended."

Remo shook his head. "That is not possible. They would not do such a thing. This is Segev!"

Slowly Daniel faced his friend. "It is possible, and they are gone. We are on our own, Remo, because to the Mercs and Teks, we are less than nothing, not even worth defending. BUT they left us weapons. We will defend ourselves."

"Daniel, that is not--"

A strange gleam came into Daniel's eyes. "Yes, Remo, it is." He gripped the man's arm and said urgently, "They trust you. Gather them all together, here, in the Circle. Get the Servis from the islands over here too. We can do this." Then he smiled. "You wanted to be a Merc and you now have that opportunity. Trust me, Remo. This will work."

Remo, caught up in the light of hope contained within Daniel's earnest gaze, nodded. "I will go now."

Daniel had never been so grateful for weapons in his life. And there were hundreds. The machine guns, explosive devices similar to their grenades, and nice round discs that he'd wager were the Yenaran version of land mines. Daniel slung one of the machine guns over his shoulder, lifted two containers of grenades, and headed back to the Common. By the time he got there, at least a hundred Servi were milling about, uncertainty and fear on their faces. He spotted Taltor, Remo's friend, and waved him over.

"Go to the armory, take four or five others and start bringing the guns and containers of weapons here. And hurry."

Taltor hesitated only briefly before yelling out four other names. The five hurried to the armory.

One of the women stepped up to Daniel and said, disbelief coloring her voice, "You expect us to fight?"

She was a tiny thing, and almost pretty in a strange, owl-like way. Daniel figured she wasn't much taller than Janet. "Yes. Because if you do not, you will die."

She paled at that, but bravely went on. "We know nothing of how to use the weapons of the Mercs. Let alone how to fight."

"Using this," he hefted up the machine gun, "is easier than playing Buno. Watch." He turned and faced one of the pillars that bordered the Common. He lifted the gun like a P-90, unlocked it as he'd seen the Mercs do so many weeks ago, moved the small red switch up a notch, and fired.

The pillar became ash.

The surrounding Servis gasped, but went silent when he handed the gun to the woman at his side. "Try it."

Frowning, she took it and did her best to copy his movements. When she held it up, much as he'd done, he showed her the sight and said, "Look through here until you see that planter over there... yes, like that. Finger here... perfect. Now... squeeze."

She did, and the planter was gone.

He took the gun from her and held it up. "Anyone can use these. It doesn't take a Merc. This small switch controls the intensity. You can kill with the switch here... or incapacitate when it's here." Daniel put it up all the way to kill. "So what will it be?"

For a moment - nothing. Then the young woman who'd killed the planter bent over and lifted a gun from the container. That was all it took. The rest quickly helped themselves. When all were armed, and more were doing the same as they arrived, the young woman said, "I am Neo. How do I use this?" She held up a grenade.

Before Daniel could answer her, Remo made his way through the crowd, took it from her hand, held it up for all to see, and said, "You flip this switch and count to ten." At the surprised look from Daniel, he added sheepishly, "Marisk." He then made a tossing motion with his hand and said, "When you reach ten, you throw it as far from you as you can."

"Preferably toward a group of Bou'gan," Daniel added.

Remo grinned. "That would be helpful." He turned and faced the statue of a Merc that stood in front of the Pleasure Rooms. He flipped the switch, counted to ten, and tossed it overhand. It hit the statue and exploded in hail of bright, sharp light. The Servi had to shield their eyes and many held their hands over their ears. When the light dissipated, all were shocked to see nothing but a very wide, shallow hole where the statue had once stood.

Satisfied with his demonstrations, Remo picked up one of the round, flat discs. Holding it up as he'd held the grenade, he said, "This we must bury just beneath the surface, several yards apart. They sense motion and explode, taking anything within a fifty-foot radius."

One of the taller Servis stepped forward and asked, "Where do we put them? How do we ensure that we do not fall victim ourselves?"

In answer, Daniel looked to Remo and said, "You told me that the Bou'gan ships can land on water, correct?"

"Yes," Remo answered, his joy at the mines fading.

"And that they then beam the soldiers to land?"

Perking up, Remo said, "Yes, Daniel, yes."

"All right then. Where are they most likely to attempt to infiltrate this island?"

No one answered immediately and then another young woman stepped forward. "Would they not wish to take out our power first? And our food supplies?"

Daniel whirled to face her, a huge grin on his face. "YES! So which island?"

"Pisteo," a Servi-2 offered.

Recognizing his uniform, Daniel nodded. "Remo, you take twenty with you and ... at least ... sixty of those mines. You can set them by remote, I assume?"

"Of course, Daniel."

"Then set half up around the perimeter of the structure that maintains the power. Then head over to?"

"Pisteo2," Remo provided.

"Right. Pisteo... 2. Take all the food supplies that you can, then do the same with the mines and get back here and meet us in the Common Room."

Remo grinned. "Yes... sir."

"Dick head."

"I know what that means, Daniel. You told me when I heard you call Major Druer the same thing."

Grinning, Daniel said, "GO!"

Remo went, but not before he chose twenty Servi to go with him.

"The President actually... said yes?"

Smug smile in place, Hammond nodded. "He did."

"George, since when--"

"Of course, it might have something to do with some new technological defense weapon the Yenarans are supposed to have."

"They ... are? They do?"

"Don't they?" Hammond said ingenuously.

"Right. Right. So when do--"

"We leave in one hour."

Jacob's right eyebrow started climbing. "We?"

"I'll be taking command of the Prometheus."

"Ah. This should be... different."

"The glider secure, Major?"

"Yes, sir. General Carter is checking it out now."

"Very good. We should receive a transmission from the Tok'ra any time now with the proper co-ordinates. Let me know the moment they contact us. I'll be with General Carter."

"Yes, sir."

Hammond made his way to the rear bay, still shocked that the Tok'ra had not only secured another Death Glider, but had made some pretty impressive improvements to it. Moreover, he applauded the thought process that put it on board the Prometheus. Since they had no idea what they would be facing when they reached the Dorni Galaxy, Jacob had suggested the small, fast ship be included "just in case." As he nodded to various crew members he passed, he wondered how the hell he was going to manage the three day journey. Every fiber of his being was telling him to hurry, that something big was going down and SG-1 would be right in the middle of it.

Three days.

Three days too many in his eyes.

The bay was empty of any crew which Hammond found odd. Until he glanced up at the glider. Jacob was in the pilot seat and, judging by his body language which was screaming "Leave me alone!" he'd scared off Hammond's crew.

George had known Jacob for a long time and he figured they were both going through the same thing, more or less. Only question was - could he get back in that thing? Last time he'd been a few years younger.

Hell, he was Air Force, he could do this.

//You are worried.//

"You noticed."

//Don't bite my head off, Jacob, simply because you are worried.//

"You know, Selmac, you're learning all the wrong things from me. 'Bite my head off'?"

Jacob could almost "feel" Selmac shrug. He grinned.

"Jacob."

He turned as well as it was possible to turn in a glider and watched George lower himself, grunting and panting, into the co-pilot seat. Without skipping a beat, he said, "One of us is getting older."

Settling in, George grimaced. "Undoubtedly. But I made it and that has to count for something."

"And you decided to put yourself through this... why?"

"Damn, you sound just like Jack."

"Okay, I'm not sure if that's a compliment... or an insult," Jacob said with a grin.

"With Jack... it's both."

Jacob chuckled and then asked, "So?"

"So, you looked as though you could use a friend."

Jacob turned back around. "Ah. I see."

"I take it that you're getting the same bad vibes that I am?"

"Huge dark ball in my stomach."

"I think that would be Selmac."

"Very funny."

George smiled a smile that quickly faded. "We're both worried about the same thing: three. Only three Tauri."

Jacob nodded. "Only three."

Jack was pacing again and Sam was pretty certain he was going to drive her crazy. She finally got up and planted herself in the middle of his pace-path. When he reached her, he stopped, cocked his head, and said, "Major?"

"Sir, you need to sit down. You're wearing a hole in the carpet."

"No carpet."

Sam smiled and said, "See?"

His lips twitched upward, and seizing the opening, she gently gripped his forearm. "Sir, Daniel will be fine."

"So you keep saying. But this is Daniel."

"Exactly. And Daniel always lands on his feet." She stepped in close. "You know, sir, he's not the same naïve archaeologist. He can handle himself just fine - better than fine, in fact. I really don't think he's in any trouble. In fact, if I know him, when they go to get him, to bring him here, he'll say, 'Just a few more minutes'."

This time the smile happened and it was a beautiful sight to see. She grinned in return.

"I think that should be on his tombstone, Carter."

She laughed lightly, glad that she'd managed to get her commanding officer to relax a bit and share her laugh. "You know, sir, I doubt that he's even given us a passing thought in all these weeks. He's happily buried in the history of the Yenaran, finding out what makes them tick and learning as much as he can. And talking a blue streak to boot."

Jack's grin faded. "You don't know him at all, do you, Carter?"

Taken aback, Sam blinked up at him. "Sir?"

"Haven't we already had this conversation? He's as worried about us as we've been about him. Trust me on this."

Surprised by the deepness of the emotion in Jack's voice, Sam took an instinctive step back. "Of course, sir. Of course. I only meant--"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Carter. I'm a bit touchy right now."

She nodded and put out her hand again, but Jack did the stepping back this time. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the patio and said, "I'm going outside."

There was nothing she could do but watch him go.

Sam walked over to the couch and sat down. She couldn't remember ever feeling as confused as she felt at that exact moment. And damn it, would she ever understand the relationship between Jack and Daniel?

The phrase "A cold day in Hell" started running through her mind.

She glanced down at her hands and started twisting Pete's ring around her finger.

"Daniel."

He turned toward Remo's voice only to find himself facing a Merc, Remo next to her.

"Daniel, she stayed. She wasn't certain how we would accept her and only divulged her presence to me a few moments ago. This is Major Marisk Caxe."

Daniel watched her chin lift slightly but noted there was no sense of superiority about her. He put out his hand. "Major."

She smiled gently as she took it. "I can help," she said.

As his hand drifted from hers, he said, "You're going to do much more than help, Major. These people need to know everything you can tell them about the Bou'gan. Their weaknesses, their tactics, all of it."

"I can do that."

Darkness cloaked the island and Daniel and the other Servis were in position awaiting the Bou'gan. The huge moon was full but the night clouds were providing a hide-and-seek playground for the silver orb. Daniel hoped the moon chose to hide less so they wouldn't have to seek the Bou'gan. Major Caxe had given them all every scrap of information she possessed on their enemy, and one all important fact had been driven home again and again: the Servi's were not a physical match for the Bou'gan, which meant they had to defeat them before they got close enough that it came down to a hand-to-hand confrontation.

Daniel felt the usual tennis balls on speed bouncing off the walls of his stomach; the same disturbance that always preceded a fight. The big difference this time was that there was no Jack, Sam or Teal'c on his six. And the foe was unknown. It was amazing to him that he was about to go into battle against an enemy he'd never seen. An enemy that had once known, if not a real peace, at least a sharing of the same galaxy with the Yenaran.

Not that he felt bad about the upcoming battle. There were enough Servis that had been liberated by the Yenaran and who could tell the kind of stories that made Daniel's skin crawl. That more than helped him deal with the fact that he was going to be killing a species he otherwise knew nothing about.

Or be killed by same said species.

At that moment, the sound of distant thunder followed by a bright red flash of light to the east told him the Bou'gan had not only landed, but had just found the first of the mines. It wouldn't be long now.

More explosions followed, this time from the second island. No, it wouldn't be long now. If Daniel had it figured right, the Bou'gan would be deciding that it had been the Mercs who'd left the mines, not the helpless Servi. If he'd guessed right, then the Bou'gan would put the control of the power station and the supply island on hold and attack the main island. After all, there should be nothing here but lowly Servi.

Surprise.

He seriously doubted that the full moon would worry the - he hoped - overconfident Bou'gan. Still, he wished he had night goggles.

Twenty minutes later, he spotted the first telltale "shadow" and prayed the Servi remembered all that he and Marisk had tried to teach them by about not firing too soon.

More shadows joined the one and Daniel raised his gun. Next to him, another Servi did the same. They both moved the red switch up to the final notch.

The clouds moved silently across the sky and the moon was revealed.

Daniel got his first look at a Bou'gan.

"Damn, I wish there was some way to find out what the hell is going on," Jack said, his frustration evident.

Sam said nothing, just continued to sit quietly. She felt hemmed in and as impotent as the colonel, but what could she do?

"O'Neill, perhaps you could suggest to one of the guards to bring in a ... I believe they called it a 'vid'?"

Jack snapped his fingers. "Good idea, T." He walked over to the door, swung it open, smiled at the guards - who were still there - and said, "Vid?" He made a motion with his hands as if to suggest something being delivered, but he suspected he was gesturing a chicken laying an egg. Fortunately one of their guards understood chicken and nodded. He hurried away and, fifteen minutes later, returned with a vid. It was put on the dining room table, connected, and the remote handed over to Jack.

Once the guard had left, he quickly turned it on.

"One good thing about the Yenaran, they don't pull any punches with their news."

Teal'c moved closer as the screen was filled with footage of a destroyed city.

"Damn," Jack muttered. "As long as the Yenaran are on the defensive, it's going to be rough."

"Does anyone recognize the city?" Sam asked as she moved to stand next to Teal'c.

"From the slides we have seen, I believe it is the city of Priske on Orseaus," Teal'c answered.

"How close to us?"

"Did Captain Rowan not say it was on the other side of Yenaran territory?"

The scene shifted to a docking station where approximately two hundred Mercs were disembarking.

"I wish I knew what they were saying," Jack said.

"We know that many were called from leave. Perhaps that is what we are watching," Teal'c guessed.

More scenes of battle were shown and, at one point, Jack pumped his arm in victory as they all witnessed the Bou'gan being driven back by tactics right out of their "playbook".

"Now that's how to fight a war," Jack said.

"There may be hope for the Yenaran after all, sir."

"Ya think?"

Thirty-six hours later --

Daniel's eyes were burning, his nostrils filled with the smell of burning flesh and what he supposed was blood - Bou'gan blood. Acidic, strong and green, it was also fluorescent and patches of it now colored the Common and surrounding areas. Smoke filled the night air, the bursts of light from the machine guns showing up as a blurred, fuzzy brightness that signified the battle being waged. The Servi were firing continually and Daniel couldn't believe the Bou'gan were still coming. And falling. At what point would an island of Servi be declared a loss and not worth more Bou'gan lives? And, yes, he'd finally seen the enemy - and he was not him. The Bou'gan were hairless, gray, and very large. Their eyes were mere slits in their faces, their mouths taking up almost half their countenance. An hour ago, Daniel had found out why. Two Bou'gan had broken through the ground fire being laid down by Marisk and Remo and attacked his position. Before Remo and Marisk took them down, one of them had latched onto Daniel's arm - with his very large mouth. And teeth.

And yes, the Bou'gan were extremely strong, much like a Goa'uld. Which probably explained why they were still coming. They had to figure their sheer strength would overwhelm the Servi and eventually they'd get close enough to use that strength and tear the Servi apart - literally.

Damn, he hoped their teeth didn't carry some kind of poison - or something. He took a moment to look at his upper arm - and grimace. Goddamn big teeth.

A flash of something out the corner of his eye brought his attention back to the battle - and not a moment too soon. A Bou'gan was heading straight for him via a body launch. Daniel fell backward, brought the gun up, and fired twice. The Bou'gan dissolved into ash.

He hauled himself forward again in time to hear what sounded like a rebel yell followed by one of the Servi.

"THEY'RE LEAVING!"

Everywhere he looked, there were popping flashes of yellow light and Bou'gans were disappearing right and left. Minutes later, a large dark shape rose up into the night sky, was briefly outlined against the moon, and finally took off in a blazing trail of fiery lights.

The Bou'gan ship. Gone.

The sudden silence was almost too loud.

Dazed, Daniel got to his feet and looked around. Other Servi began to move away from their hiding places, all with the same dazed look.

The silence was broken when a Servi near by said, "Their ship, that's their ship. We've ... won!"

"Well, I'll be damned," Daniel muttered before he sat, exhausted, on the ground.

They'd won.

"Sir, we have the coordinates. We'll be ringing you down to what is a military compound on Amen-Tor3."

Hammond nodded and glanced over at Jacob, who was staring out the windshield. "How do your people do it, Jacob? How do they come up with this information when they're not even in this galaxy?"

"One of the Yenaran has been using the 'Gate."

"Only one?"

"Only one. A Lord ... Forten. Didn't I already tell you this?"

"Why, no, Jacob, you didn't. Perhaps because you didn't have Colonel O'Neill to goad you into it," Hammond answered dryly.

"That must be it." He went on speaking. "There is only one 'Gate and they call it the Porta Anneau. The planet on which it is located was nearly destroyed in one of the battles, but somehow, the Yenarans managed to keep control of it although they've not had time to re-populate it. It was a waste station and probably of no real interest to the Bou'gan, who, by the way, do not have a Stargate. The Yenaran used to believe the Stargate was literally a portal to their version of heaven - and may still, to some extent - as they do not use it. Other than Lord Forten, who I suspect does so without the knowledge of the general population. He heard of the Taur'i through his travels to other worlds. Learned of SG-1, to be precise."

"Jack must have been thrilled."

Jacob finally looked away from the view of space and at Hammond. He grinned slightly. "Undoubtedly."

"General Hammond? We're in range. SG-4 and 9 are ready to accompany you down to the planet."

Hammond got up and cocked his head at Jacob. "You ready?"

Jacob got up and moved to stand by his side. As the two men headed for the storage area where they'd ring down to Amen-Tor3, Colonel O'Brian said, "Sir, bring SG-1 back."

Jack's eyes narrowed. He rose to his feet and walked toward the front door.

"O'Neill?"

"Don't you hear it, Teal'c?"

"I hear nothing, O'Neill."

"Exactly. When has it ever been this quiet?"

Sam looked at Teal'c and then at the colonel. "Sir?"

"Something's up." He stopped at the door, hand on the knob. He waited a moment... and then threw it open.

No guards.

"Damn it, I knew it. Come on, guys, let's go. We have a teammate to find."

Captain Otek couldn't believe it. They'd been given the orders to evacuate the city and send all available Mercs to Amen-Tor2. Most of the Teks and officials had already been shuttled to the station and he would soon follow. But first, valuable records had to be downloaded into his personal key. He punched in his code and was about to insert the key when a golden spotlight hit the floor in the center of the room. Eyes wide with wonder and not a little fear, he watched what looked like rings - huge rings -- appear out of nowhere.

They settled on the floor, one after another, and were followed by a shaft of light through the tunnel created by the horizontal rings. The rings disappeared - leaving behind ten men. Ten ... human men, most in uniforms that matched Esgeewon.

Guns were trained on him immediately as a man clearly in command said, "Where is SG-1?"

Otek shook his head. He understood "Esgeewon" but that was it. Figuring that dying now was not an option, he slowly reached for a translator, lifted it carefully, and put it in his ear lobe. "I... am Otek. Captain Otek."

"And I'm General George Hammond. Now where's SG-1?"

He had to remember what Captain Rowan had told him. The Taur'i were not the enemy. Contrary to how they appeared at the moment. His friend had worked with Esgeewon and he'd been quick to share his admiration of them. Deciding that the quickest way to get off the planet was to tell what he knew, he stepped forward. "Three are here on Amen-Tor3 but at a military compound days from here. One is on Segev."

Jacob moved quickly forward. "Where is this Segev and which member is there?"

"This I do not know. I can provide you with the coordinates." He walked to the map behind his desk and waved his hand over it and two planets began to flash. "This," he said as he pointed to the closest flashing planet, "is where you are now. This one is Segev."

"I can take the glider," Jacob said as he stared at the map. "With hyper launch, I can be there in a few hours."

"Right, and we can be at this compound place in a few minutes." Hammond said, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing. If someone was going to be separated from SG-1 in this society, it was likely to be Major Carter. To the Yenaran, he said, "We'll need the coordinates of both."

"I can give that to you. But you need to understand; we're evacuating. All personnel are being channeled to Amen-Tor2 where we will make our final stand against the Bou'gan. You also need to know that at last word, Segev was under attack."

They ran through the empty corridors, glancing into empty rooms as they ran past each one. There wasn't a Yenaran in sight. Jack burst through the double doors that led out of their section of the compound and began to run towards the main building. Inside they found only Teks, all rushing to pack up valuable equipment. Jack ignored them and kept going, Teal'c and Sam hot on his heels. He came to another set of double doors - the primary office -- and barely paused long enough to push them open. Inside, nothing.

"DAMN IT!" Jack whirled around, frustration in every line of his body.

Sam took a step toward him. "Sir?"

"How the hell are we going to find out where he is? There's NO ONE to ask, to demand, to THREATEN!"

"All are apparently leaving, O'Neill. Perhaps we should find out--"

Jack held up a finger. "Right." He spun around and headed for the door.

"Sir, we don't speak the language and the Mercs outside aren't likely to have one of the translators."

Jack's forward motion was halted by her words and his shoulders slumped. "What the hell do we do now, huh?"

A whooshing sound followed by a set of transport rings pretty much answered that question.

Jack couldn't believe his eyes. Once the rings had been retracted, he, Teal'c and Carter were shocked to find themselves facing their commander and two SGC teams.

"Uh... General?"

"Colonel. Good to see you."

Looking shell-shocked, Jack said, "Sir, has anyone ever told you that your timing is impeccable?"

Jacob pushed the glider to its limits, the captain's words replaying in his head. "... Segev was under attack...."

He hadn't come this far to lose his daughter. Although, if the Bou'gan were attacking Segev, they'd get the shock of their lives. Sam was undoubtedly kicking some major Bou'gan ass. He smiled - and pushed the glider beyond its limits.

Two hours into his flight, he could see both the mother planet, Orseaus, and there, small and blue, was Segev. He let the brain of the glider take over.

Sunrise brought everyone's first real look at their island, the dead, and the injured. Daniel, in spite of his own injuries, immediately got a triage working as well as a burial detail. The damage to the buildings was bad, but not as bad as he'd figured. The additional food and all the medical supplies had been moved into in his dorm building and it stood unscathed. He'd correctly figured the Common Room would be a prime target of the Bou'gan -- and it was little more than rubble now.

"Daniel."

He turned to find Remo and Marisk walking toward him. Both were dusty, dirty, but apparently unharmed.

"Daniel, we did it. We won."

He smiled a tired smile. "Yes, we did. And from the looks of it, with very few casualties."

Marisk nodded. "I am amazed. There are only ten Servi dead and less than twenty injured. And most of the injuries are not life threatening. This is a great day."

Daniel looked at the two before him: a Merc and a Servi, in love and willing to battle side-by-side. Slowly he nodded. "Yes, it is. I believe you have just won your ... freedom, Remo. Do you understand?"

The Yenaran looked at the woman he loved - and she smiled in return. "I believe I do, Daniel."

Smoke was rising from the main island and Jacob could now see the aftermath of the battle. What he didn't see ... was any sign of the Bou'gan. His instruments had confirmed the lack of any other ship in the area, but... he went in low to get a closer look. He skimmed over the water, brought the nose up a bit, spotted the second and third islands, and noted the damage to the ground.

Damaged ... ground?

If he didn't know better, he'd say he was looking at landmine damage. Severe landmine damage. He flew past and toward the main island, his heart in his throat.

"You were lucky," Leiyo said as he finished bandaging Daniel's arm. "Any deeper and you would have bled to death."

Daniel gave a little nod and said, "All done?"

"Not really. You need Ataxin."

"Ookay, and what is Ataxin?"

"It will keep the bite clean and free of infection. But we do not have any. You could become seriously ill. Of course, your physiology is different and you may be able to fight any bacteria carried by the saliva of the Bou'gan."

"How many Servi were... bit," Daniel asked.

"Only one, but she is... dead."

Shocked, Daniel asked, "The bite?"

Leivo shook his head. "No."

"Ah. So... if my body doesn't fight off any bacteria - how long might--"

"A few hours, perhaps. But you are showing no signs of a serious infection and much time has passed since you were attacked. That is very hopeful."

"Oh. Good. Then I'll head back out and get back to work."

"You should rest, Daniel. You are actually the most serious of our injuries."

"Then I guess we're all in damn fine shape. Thank you, Leivo. You do good work."

Daniel got off the table that had been serving as an examining table and put his shirt back on. He smiled at Leivo, patted him on the shoulder and headed back outside. His arm hurt like hell, but there was too much to do to worry about it - and in the last weeks he'd been hurt a great deal worse, all in the name of a good time.

Once outside, he blinked in the bright, early morning sun. Other than the fact that they were only hours past a major battle, it was a beautiful day. He walked toward the Common and the Servi working diligently to clean up what was left of the Common room when a large shadow blocked out the sun. Daniel glanced up, worried, only to find himself looking up at a Goa'uld death glider.

"Fuck."

What, they fight off the Bou'gan only to have ... wait a minute....

The glider dropped lower and hovered. Daniel could see the pilot.

Jacob.

Daniel did the only thing he could. He grinned and waved.

"Well, I'll be damned," Jacob muttered as he hovered above the island and Daniel grinned and waved from below. He shook his head in wonder.

Time to put this baby down.

"Daniel."

"Jacob. Just in the neighborhood?"

Jacob couldn't help it. He laughed outright. Only Daniel.

"I take it Sam isn't here?"

Daniel's grin faded. "God no, I'm sorry, Jacob. I'm afraid you've made a wasted trip. It's just ... me. But as I understand it, Sam, Jack and Teal'c are on--"

Jacob held up a hand to stop what he knew would be a rapid-fast torrent of words. "First of all, it was hardly a wasted trip. We knew that one member of SG-1 was here on Segev, we just figured it was Sam, okay? So I came. Second, the rest of SG-1 should already be with General Hammond and aboard the Prometheus."

Daniel raised a hand and finger, his typical "but, but" gesture, forcing Jacob to say, "Tut-tut... and third, I'm very glad I was the one who came, even if you're not my daughter."

Looking sheepish, Daniel said, "I don't think I could be your daughter, Jacob."

"Good point." He draped an arm across Daniel's shoulders and said in an excellent imitation of Jack, "So, whatcha been up to?"

"So dad is on his way to Segev?"

"He is, Major Carter. He believed, as did we all, that you'd be there. I take it that ... Doctor Jackson is the one who was sent to Segev?"

"Yes. Evidently, since he wasn't a soldier, he couldn't remain with us. Ticked me off, I can tell you, General."

"I can imagine it would, Colonel." Hammond took a deep breath and said, "I'm afraid the one thing we were able to learn before coming here was that Segev... was under attack."

"Well, fuck."

"Sir, I'm sure Mercs were left behind--"

"That is highly doubtful, Major Carter. We witnessed the movement of the Mercs to Amen-Tor2."

"General?" Jack said, knowing that Hammond understood what was being said.

"Yes, well, I suggest we head for Segev."

Jacob couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Bou'gan had been soundly defeated by a handful of Servi, one Merc, and one... archaeologist. He watched them move about, all clearly full of pride at their accomplishment. He did wonder at the ... uniform? Many were in white, like Daniel, while others were in a similar outfit, only of a heavier material and in either brown or tan. And what the hell was with Daniel's outfit? There was practically nothing there, nothing left to the imagination.

"You are a friend of our Daniel?"

His thoughts interrupted, Jacob turned to face a young Yenaran, also in white. "Yes, yes, I am. Jacob Carter." He held out his hand.

"I am Remo." He took the offered hand and shook it happily. "We owe our lives, and now our freedom, to Daniel. I understand that he will leave us now, but please, understand all that he has done for us. When the Mercs were recalled, Major Darvet tried to take Daniel with him, but when Daniel realized that we would all be left behind without defense, he refused to go. Darvet cared enough to leave him the key to the armory. This alone is unheard of, even for an XY such as Daniel. That a Merc should care so much." Remo grinned. "Although... my Marisk stayed behind."

Jacob was thoroughly confused. An XY? Marisk? Major Darvet? He knew Daniel was on the second island helping with the power station, having refused to leave with Jacob until he was certain all was well on Segev. He decided now was as good a time as any to find out what the heck Daniel had been doing all this time.

"Where can we talk, Remo?"

"So you're saying that you... that all the men and women in white... are these Servi-1's? And that you... your job... your duties... were to ... sexually ... service the Mercs?"

"That is correct."

"So Daniel has had to--"

Remo ducked his head as he whispered, "Yes. I know that your world is not like ours. I know what Daniel has lost in the time he has spent with us." He raised his head almost defiantly and added, "But he is our savior and I can not pretend, in spite of all he has suffered, to be less than grateful that he was with us. He has taught us so much; you cannot begin to understand. And yes, he suffered greatly in his first weeks with us. He refused to conform and each Merc who chose him had to punish him. But then Moram arrived and told Daniel that if he would not accept his fate as a Servi-1XY, he would be sent to join his teammates and the one called ... Major Carter ... would take his place. From then on, Daniel became one of us. He was chosen each time the Mercs arrived on leave. Every time. Even for an XY, that is unusual. And he is not Yenaran."

Jacob could feel his stomach beginning to turn. And Selmac wasn't helping. He was pretty sure he was about to be sick. He tried to fixate on something - anything - to regain his equilibrium and the phrase "Servi-1XY" popped into his brain. With great difficulty, he asked, "XY? What is... that? You are a Servi-1, but you say Daniel was a Servi-1XY?"

"Yes. It is a great honor. Before Daniel, there were only twelve. Twelve in the entire population."

"Huh-uh, and again, what exactly is this XY?"

"There is something in the individual that calls to both sexes. This makes Daniel and all the XY very special."

"Special. Sure."

So instead of just female Mercs - Daniel had been "chosen" by male Mercs. And given all that he'd seen - more male Yenarans than female because the odds lay in that direction. More female Servi's - more male Mercs.

"Tell me the rest," Jacob said, not really sure he could handle hearing it.

Daniel was exhausted, pushed beyond his limits, but he kept going. Jacob was here, and salvation - home -- was now within his grasp.

And Jack.

He'd see Jack. Even as he worked side-by-side with three Servi-2's to get the power station back online, he felt the excitement build. Because he'd have to leave soon. Before the Mercs arrived.

"We are done. The gauge is showing full power, Daniel."

He wiped his hands and thought how odd that weeks spent without memory under a world of ice could help him here, now. He nodded at Beote and said, "Good work. I'm going to head back to the main island. Do you guys need anything?"

Beote and Nors shook their heads and waved him out with little shooing motions. He took the hint.

As he walked down to the ferry, he flexed his arm and nodded in satisfaction. The pain was there, but no worse. So no infection. He hoped. He got himself back across to the main island and headed for the Pleasure room, which had been revamped to serve as the Common room and central meeting place for the Servi while doing repairs and preparing for the arrival of reality in the form of the Mercs. He had only one bit of unfinished business, and that was to ask Remo if he could take one of the portable vids. He needed to get the writings on the tower recorded before he and Jacob left.

And speaking of Jacob. Daniel waved as the older man walked toward him from the Common room. It wasn't until he drew close that his expression registered on Daniel.

And Daniel's world froze.

Suddenly the joy of going home turned into a nightmare.

Because Jacob knew. Daniel could see the truth of it in Jacob's eyes.

When Jacob drew abreast of him, he said, "Remo just received word that a detail of Mercs are on their way here. Evidently the battle for Amen-Tor2 is going well for the Yenarans. We need to leave, Daniel. Now."

Schooling his expression, Daniel said, "I just have one more thing to do, and it won't take more than thirty minutes. I just need to get something from Remo. If you want, you can wait here--"

"No, no, whatever you need to do, I'll help. But Marisk says we only have a couple of hours and she recommends I have you out of here by the time they arrive. She seems to think they might not ... let you go, no matter what agreement Forten had with SG-1."

Daniel could hear the unspoken words, the knowledge that Jacob knew how Daniel had spent his time on Segev. He chose to ignore it - for now. Instead, he said, "No problemo. Hang on a minute, let me get the vid and we'll be off."

With that, he walked toward the old destroyed Common room.

"Daniel, I know you said this was partially Ancient, but I don't recognize it. How do you know--"

Daniel was just finishing recording the last wall and without looking up, said, "It's almost like a code, the way all four languages were melded together. I'm pretty sure I can crack it and I really think it's important."

"That goes without saying. Just the question of how this got here is enough to warrant taping this."

Daniel lifted his head just as the red light blinked off. The vid was done. He turned to stare at Jacob as he said quietly, "Thank you."

Looking surprised, Jacob said, "What for?"

"For understanding why I needed to do this. No one else would have."

Jacob shrugged and said, "So, you're done?"

"Yes."

"Then let's head out and get you out of here."

"Not just yet, Jacob."

The tone stopped the man in his tracks. "What?"

"I take it you spoke with Remo about this island and the men and women on it?"

"We... talked. Yes."

"So you know." It was said as a statement of fact, not a question. Before Jacob could answer, Daniel said easily and with a smile, "I don't think there's any need for you to share that information with anyone, do you, Jacob?"

"Daniel--"

"After all, it would only... hurt... them, wouldn't it? I'm fine, it's over, and we're all going home now. I see no reason why they should have to deal with feelings of impotence and guilt, do you? Especially Sam. And you know what this could do to Jack. How he feels when he thinks he's let a team member down? Which he didn't do, but that fact has never stopped him in the past from feeling as though he had. And it tears him apart. So I'm thinking that what you learned... stays between you and me. Okay?"

Jacob was ... just... he had no words. He could only stare, numb, at the young man standing in front of him.

"So we're agreed, Jacob? I need your word on this, because I've got to tell you, I don't really think I could handle them knowing and going through all that guilt for no good reason, you know? So I need you to agree to this. For them. For Jack, Teal'c, General Hammond and... Sam."

Words finally came. "Daniel, what about you? You can't just--"

"Please, this is me we're talking about. This was a cultural thing, and I understood it. Sure, I bucked it in the beginning, which surprised the hell out of me, I can tell you that. But eventually, no problem. I'm fine, Jacob, and will continue to be as long as the truth stays between you and me. Deal?"

"How do you know they don't already know, Daniel," Jacob said gently.

"They might, but I know people, and Lord Forten would never have told them the truth. While all of this," he wiggled his finger in a circle indicating the island, "is normal, he knew it wasn't to us. He knew Jack would never cooperate if he discovered the truth. He was fighting incredible odds to get the Council to listen to his plan to begin with, so me joining Jack, Sam and Teal'c was never a possibility. No, they don't know. And won't. Unless you tell them. And you know I'm right. About that... and about what the truth would do to them. So, what do you say?"

"What if I say no?" Jacob asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Daniel swiped a hand over his face and looked around him. Finally, he said, "Well, these people need help. They're on the road to a new way of life and I could be of help here." He looked back at Jacob. "I think I'd have to remain. Because to be honest, I don't think I could face them - knowing that they knew. Couldn't face having to deal with their guilt every time they looked at me. It would probably bring an end to the SG-1 as we know it. So to answer your question, and no, it's not a threat, just a fact, I'd stay here."

"Aren't you forgetting what will happen when you get home? You know that all four of you will have to undergo--"

"I know. And I'll take care of it. Now I'm betting that they already think I've spent the last three months plus in some museum or library or something like that. So that's what they're going to hear. I'll make something up."

Of that, Jacob had no doubt. "And the battle?"

Daniel gave a little snort. "The Servi's won, not me. I was just along for the ride."

That wasn't even close to the truth, but it was Daniel. To a "T". And the fact was, it would hurt Sam to hear the truth, and it would hurt Jack. And Teal'c. And it wouldn't change what Daniel had gone through, but it might make it easier for him to deal if he didn't have to worry about his friends. And ultimately, that's what made Jacob's mind up.

Daniel.

"You'll seek help if you need it?" he asked, his eyes boring into Daniel's.

"I will. But I won't need it. You know me. This was a learning experience and nothing more. I'll be fine. As long as my friends--"

"You've got a deal, Daniel," Jacob interrupted. He knew damn well that Daniel wouldn't be fine, and he had every intention of hanging around once they got back home. Just in case.

The relief on Daniel's face made Jacob glad he'd chosen to honor Daniel's request. The lifted load was actually visible ... and very real.

"Well, then," Daniel said with a dazzling smile, "let's get going."

"We know you must leave, and now, but Daniel, we will miss you. We owe you so much, and we can never repay you."

Daniel shook his head at Remo's words. "No, you owe me nothing. If not for you, who knows what would have happened to me. I might never have won a single game of Buno."

Jacob stood next to the glider, watching the men and women of this small planet gather around Daniel. He remembered Sam telling him about Abydos and the first mission, and how the Abydonians had gathered around Daniel to hold and hug him, some content to simply touch him as they said their goodbyes. She'd been stunned by the depth of love the Abydonians had for Daniel, and now Jacob was seeing the same incredible show of affection. The Servi's of Segev were grateful to Daniel, but there was something more. Much more. He'd touched them and in doing so, had changed them forever.

Jacob had a feeling that the worlds of the Yenar would never be the same again, thanks to all of SG-1.

"Daniel, we need to go," he reminded, and hating the need to do so.

The hugs followed and finally the Servi allowed Daniel to move to the glider, the vid in his hand. He waved and climbed up behind Jacob. They both settled in as the Servi moved out of harm's way and Jacob took off.

Daniel twisted his head around and watched as Segev grew smaller and smaller.

When it was no more than a tiny blue dot, he faced forward and sighed. Behind him, a people he would always remember and cherish, but a time he could have done without - and ahead of him - home.

"Sir, we're picking up another ship."

"Is it the glider?"

There was a pause, then, "Yes, sir."

Leaning forward, worry in every line of his body, Hammond said, "Open a channel and hail her."

Lieutenant Nelson nodded and flicked a switch. "This is the Prometheus to General Carter."

//"This is General Carter. I have the renegade SG-1 member with me. You ready to take us aboard?//

Smiling, Hammond nodded to himself, sat back, relaxed, and nodded at Nelson, who said, "We're ready. Prepare to rendezvous in twenty."

//"Roger."//

Hammond flipped a switch on the arm of his command chair and said, "Jacob, you'll be happy to know that we have the rest of SG-1 and all are well and unharmed. How's our renegade?"

//"At the moment, sound asleep and serenading me with his snores.//

Hammond laughed, a genuine one, and said, "Sounds like Doctor Jackson. I'll let his team know. See you soon."

//"Roger. Carter, out."//

"Colonel Pendergast, will you take over? I'm going to give Colonel O'Neill the good news."

"My pleasure, sir."

The commissary wasn't exactly bustling with business, Jack thought as he stirred his coffee. Across from him, Sam sat and enjoyed her Jell-o, while Teal'c played with his slice of lemon meringue pie. Jack knew that until they found out about Daniel, eating wasn't something he thought he could do. And evidently, neither could Teal'c, although he was taking a stab at it - literally.

"I think the pie is dead, Teal'c," Hammond said as he walked up behind Jack.

Teal'c dropped the fork and pushed the plate away, but remained silent.

"I thought I'd come down and let you know that we'll be rendezvousing with Jacob and Daniel in about," he checked his watch, "ten minutes. If you're interested, that is."

Three sets of eyes turned to look at him. He grinned.

Jack was up so fast, his chair would have fallen over if not expertly caught by Hammond. "He's okay? Jacob's got him?"

"He's okay and snoring up a storm, I understand."

Jack nearly sagged with relief. Hammond turned the chair around and literally pushed Jack back into it. "He's fine, Jack. Our boy is fine."

"I told you, Colonel. Daniel probably gave dad grief about having to leave."

Jack just smiled.

The bay doors slid open and there was the glider, the canopy opening to reveal Jacob and... Daniel.

Daniel.

Jack couldn't seem to move. He'd been waiting for this moment for weeks -- and now that it was here - he couldn't fucking move. He watched as the two men climbed down and noticed immediately that Daniel was a mess. He was dirty, and his arm....

"Daniel, what happened," he wiggled a finger at the bandage, "there?"

Daniel paused, but then continued forward. "A bite."

"A bite." Jack repeated incredulously.

"Yep. The Bou'gan bite. Hard."

Daniel walked up to his teammates, an almost shy smile on his face. "You guys look good. Everyone all right?"

"We are fine, DanielJackson, now that you are here. We have been worried."

"I've been worried about you, too."

Jacob walked up at that point and said, "Daniel and his friends on Segev kicked some major Bou'gan butt, by the way. While you guys were trying to teach the Yenaran to fight dirty, Daniel just up and did it."

Three sets of jaws dropped to the floor.

"Jacob exaggerates. We just kind of ... really, it was no big deal."

Jack closed his mouth and shook his head. Sam grinned and said, "So you and a bunch of what, scientists, teachers, and whatever, taught the Bou'gan a few lessons in Taur'i ass-kicking?"

Daniel shrugged charmingly and said, "You know us scientists, Sam. We'll teach anything, anywhere, anytime. And we'll talk everyone's ears off, which is actually how we defeated them. Their eyes just glazed over and the day was ours."

"See, sir, what did I tell you?" Sam said as she stepped forward and gingerly hugged Daniel. As she stepped away, she wrinkled her nose. "Someone needs a shower."

Daniel grimaced as Sam moved to her father and walked into his embrace. Daniel sniffed himself and shrugged helplessly, "What can I say? We had to bug out of there kind of fast, you know?"

"Yeah, so what's that?" Jack asked as he pointed to the vid in Daniel's left hand.

Still holding his daughter, Jacob said, "He just had to tape the one ruin in all of Segev before we could leave."

"Damn, you actually found one?"

Daniel nodded and, with an odd, quirky smile, said, "Big tower, secret door... and writings on the wall. In a combination of several languages that shouldn't have been there."

Sam pulled away from her father and said, "What languages?"

"Try a conglomerate of Ancient, Asgard, Nox and ... Furling. On a planet that was supposedly created by the Yenar."

"Well, this is fun and all, but General Hammond is kind of looking forward to seeing you, God knows why, so how 'bout we take this somewhere else?"

"Jack, I really think I should... you know... shower first? And this get-up isn't exactly appropriate for the bridge of the Prometheus."

Jack slung his arm over Daniel's shoulders and, as they walked out, Teal'c, Sam and Jacob on their heels, said, "Now, Daniel, you know the procedure. First up is a nice trip to the Infirmary. There's an MRI just waiting for you. And while there, we'll have them look at that bite. I'd hate to think of you going all rabid on us. Then you can take that much needed shower. And speaking of get-ups, just exactly what is it that you're wearing?"

Rolling his eyes, Daniel quipped, "What, you've never seen Yenaran pajamas before?"

Daniel pointedly ignored the sudden cough from Jacob.

Daniel gave out with a sigh of relief as he closed the door to his quarters. Alone at last. Wonderfully, magically alone. Which was odd. He shouldn't be feeling so happy about that considering how much, in the last three months, he'd wanted to be with his teammates. He looked around the room and slowly walked over to the bed and sat down.

Gosh, another bed. To sit on.

He rubbed his eyes, which were burning from the strain of trying, suddenly, to see so much. It was going to be nice once he had his spare set seeing normally again.

God, what a bunch of baloney he'd been handing out to his friends. But damn, he was good at tossing baloney, malarkey and manure. Had become an expert over the years.

Of course, Janet would be a bit trickier.

His recent - and brief - examination had been a breeze. He'd done the MRI, been pronounced symbiote-free, and then the Prometheus doctor, a Doctor Willard, checked his arm. He'd been stunned by the size of the teeth marks, but after a careful exam, said it seemed to be healing very well. He'd taken blood, "Just in case," he'd said, and then had allowed Daniel to leave. And now, here he was. He glanced down at his side and smiled. A uniform - blue, nicely and neatly folded, sat next to him. He was finally getting out of this damned white ... thing. But shower first. He picked up the uniform and headed out and down the corridor to the showers.

Once he assured himself that he was alone in the locker room, he immediately pulled the shirt off, made a face at it, balled it up and tossed the damn thing overhand into the trash can next to the sink. He hoped sincerely that it would be burned to less than a cinder. As he started to untie the pants, he froze.

The bracelet.

He still wore it, naturally. No one to remove it back on Segev. Frowning, he realized that neither Jack, nor Sam or Teal'c had been wearing one. Had they been removed before he and Jacob had connected with the Prometheus? He touched it lightly and grimaced. It was still tight. It had been used so much in the beginning that it was almost melded to his skin. He hoped it could be easily removed because he sure as hell didn't want to explain anything. On the other hand, maybe Jack and the others went through something similar. Maybe....

Damn, he'd better have an explanation just in case.

Jacob was literally dumbfounded. Who knew that Daniel could lie like that? That he even had it in him to tell those whoppers? And damn, he'd been convincing. So very convincing. Jacob knew the truth and yet he'd found himself nodding with interest while believing Daniel. Of course, now the issue facing him was George and allowing the lie to go on paper, to become the official story. And Jacob didn't know if it was the right thing.

//It is a difficult question, my friend.//

Tell me about it, Selmac. I don't even know how right Daniel is about Jack, my daughter or Teal'c. Sure, the guilt would be heavy, but damn it, the truth might make them a stronger team.

//Or tear them apart.//

Or tear them apart.

//Ultimately, we are left with the question of what is best for Daniel Jackson, are we not?//

Can't argue with you there. And right now, I believe that it's imperative for him not have to worry about his teammates. He'll have more than enough on his plate without dealing with his friends and their guilt. And he would put them first.

//He strikes me as the type of man used to dealing alone with all that life throws him, Jacob.//

Jacob couldn't argue with that either.

He tried to imagine Sam in the same position... and couldn't. Dared not. He was a father and his anger at what Daniel had been through was more than enough to work through. He'd have gone insane if it had been Sammy.

Jacob rubbed his eyes, slapped his thighs, and stood up. "Time to face the music."

SG-1 sat around the small conference room aboard the Prometheus. Daniel had enjoyed his shower and now wore the blue uniform typical of the crew. Jacob sat next to Sam, Jack on her other side. Across the table, Teal'c had taken the chair next to Daniel. General Hammond had, as usual, the head of the table.

"So basically, you were treated well and with respect, but you couldn't leave the compound?" Hammond asked, now that Jack had completed his verbal report.

"That's correct, sir. In fact, we couldn't go anywhere on the compound without a guard. But I've got to say, we ate like kings." He glanced at Sam and winked. "And queens. The Yenarans really went the extra mile to ensure that the food we had was appropriate and met all our dietary needs. Tasted good too," he added with a grin.

"So the agreement was that you were to work with these ... Mercs ... help them redefine their battle strategy and, in six months, you'd be free to go?"

"That was the deal, sir, and the alternative didn't really appeal to me. We would have been 'enlisted' into their military and I doubt we would have lasted long. Probably been sent to the least desirable location with no hope or opportunity for escape. Even with the degree of trust we were given, we were never allowed anywhere near a ship or any other mode of transportation. And they had terrific means to keep us in line, which we witnessed being used on Daniel. They also had us wearing a bracelet that promised to deliver rather dire consequences if we tried anything. However, those were removed after the first three weeks. We never did find out what they could have done to us. I'm thinking that's a good thing, by the way."

Hammond nodded. "I suspect you're right, Colonel." He turned to Daniel. "What exactly did the Yenarans have you doing, Doctor Jackson?"

Jacob, who'd been listening intently to Jack's recitation, immediately focused on Daniel, ready to hear what he'd come up with even while dreading this moment. He found himself amazed just by Daniel's reaction as he answered. Not by body language, eyes, expression, voice, or words, did Daniel betray himself. He simply grinned at George and launched into his pack of lies. Jacob found himself with half an eye on Daniel, for any break in his façade, the other half on the rest of SG-1. He wanted - no, needed - to see their reaction.

"... and basically, sir, they had no real archive of their history. It was scattered, random, and with so much energy spent on keeping the Bou'gan at bay, there was no one they could spare to do the work. Hence, my assignment during our - time -- with the Yenarans. It was fascinating, really. They have--"

"Yes, well," Jack interrupted. "I'd like to say I'm interested in Yenar history, but point of fact - I'm not."

"Right. Point taken," Daniel responded glibly. "Anyway, I had my own room, Segev was a tropical planet, mostly water with three islands--"

"Whoa, Danny. While we slaved away teaching stubborn Mercs in a military compound, you were having the time of your life on a tropical paradise?"

Looking down at his hands, and allowing a small grin to turn up the corners of his mouth, Daniel said, "Basically - yeah."

"Well, Carter, looks like you were right all along. He not only landed on his feet, but in paradise to boot."

"Other than a small matter of an invasion," Jacob couldn't help but interject. "And beating the hell out of the enemy."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. He then nodded to Daniel's left arm, where the cuff of the long-sleeved tee-shirt had ridden up. "You still wear the bracelet, DanielJackson."

Daniel started to make an abrupt move to pull the sleeve back down, but stopped and gave a small laugh. "Yeah, well, Segev didn't have a lot of guards so this kind of kept me in my place, so to speak. I thought it was ridiculous, actually. I mean, I was on an island. Where would I go?"

"I see. Do you have any idea what it does? How it restricts the individual?"

"Knowing Daniel, he was too busy delving into the history of the Yenaran to even think about escape," Sam said with a grin.

Daniel absently fingered the thin band as he nodded. "Yeah, and sorry, but I have no idea... how it works."

Jacob was almost disgusted. Only his concern for Daniel and the days ahead kept him quiet. But damn, it was hard. Even Selmac was chomping at the bit. He knew damn well how often - and to what extent - that bracelet had been used. Remo had been very forthcoming. Too forthcoming.

"Now that it's over, what would be your opinion of future attempts to both aid the Yenarans and eventually open negotiations with them? From what you've said about their technology, we could benefit by an exchange."

Jack dropped the pen he'd been fiddling with and said, "Sure, they have some nifty stuff, sir, but--"

"But," Daniel rushed in, "nothing we don't already have access to through the Tokr'a, for instance. The zats and staff weapons are similar to their 'machine guns', with only the end result differing. Well, I mean, they're still dead, but the disposition of the body is slightly different..."

Jacob leaned forward, sensing the first chink in Daniel's armor. He knew damn well that Daniel couldn't afford an in-depth study of the Yenaran. That would divulge the truth too easily.

"Well, their ships and underground transportation is pretty damn nifty, and when we left, they were winning the battle for Amen-Tor2, so I'm thinking the Bou'gan will soon be history. And of course, there's that whole 'Let's create a planet' thing of theirs," Jack said. "But I'm also thinking we put some time between ourselves and the Yenar before we sally forth and offer our wonderfulness, sir."

Patient "Jack O'Neill" look in place, Hammond said, "I'll take that under advisement, Colonel. What I suggest now, is that you all get some rest, relax, and enjoy the trip home."

Daniel raised a hand. "Actually, sir, I brought back a ... kind of tape. You see, there was this tower on Segev--"

"Of course there was," Hammond said fondly. "And it undoubtedly had something of great importance inside?"

Looking suddenly sheepish, Daniel said, "The walls, sir." He waggled his head. "Writings, interesting writings. I'd like to have Sam ... I mean, maybe she can jerry-rig the vid and download the pictures--"

"I understand, Doctor Jackson. Major Carter?"

"I'd be happy to see what I can do. Just the idea of the find like this on Segev is... well, it's pretty exciting."

"Very well."

"General," Jack interjected with a nod to Daniel's wrist. "We need to see about getting that thing off."

"Absolutely. Maybe once we get home, Major Carter and her people can figure out what it does. And don't forget that once we are home, you'll all be spending some quality time with Doctor Frasier."

Jack groaned even as Hammond rose to his feet. "Dismissed, people. Jacob, join me?"

Looking at his daughter, who nodded, he said, "Right behind you, George."

Once Jacob and George were gone, Jack looked at his team and smiled. "SG-1 is once again complete. Feels good."

Sam grinned back at him. "Yes, sir, it does."

"Indeed. I believe we should attempt to get DanielJackson's bracelet off, however."

"Right. Carter, do your thing."

Sam had the magnifying glass in position and, after twisting the arm a bit and bringing it even closer, said, "I can see a faint line that must be the closure... Daniel, your wrist seems to be swollen around the band."

"Yeah, I noticed. I think I may have a slight sprain. The first time you fire off one those weird machine guns of theirs - well, there's a bit of a kick-back."

"Ah. Well, that might make it more difficult to remove but we'll give it our best shot."

Jack looked over her shoulder and peered through the glass at the bracelet. He gave a low whistle and promptly made a fish face.

"Charming, Jack," Daniel said. "And may I say... much missed."

Jack looked over the top of the glass. "What? My fish face?"

Grinning, Daniel nodded. "Yep. Missed that fish face."

"Ah, get on with ya."

"Uhm, sir? I need some room here?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, Carter." Jack moved to stand next to Daniel while Sam continued to study the bracelet.

"They probably had some device that would trigger it open... so I'm thinking either sound or ... possibly--"

"Carter?"

"I'm just saying...."

"Just get it off," Jack said.

Sam picked up a pair of needle-nosed wire cutters and, again peering through the glass, attempted to slip one side of them under the band. "Sir, could you hold the glass steady for me?"

"I will assist Major Carter, O'Neill."

Jack nodded, his expression serious as he watched Daniel trying not to jerk as Sam tried to slip the cutters in between his skin and the band. She gripped his arm with her left hand and, once she'd succeeded, tried to snip the band off.

Nothing happened.

Glancing up, she grimaced. "The metal is too strong, sir. I'm going to hope there's a weakness at the closure and see if I can twist it off." She dropped the cutters and picked up a pair of bent-nosed chain pliers and started the process again. When a streak of red popped up, she gasped and drew back sharply.

"It's okay, Sam, I can't feel anything around the band. And it was my fault. I jerked a bit. Try again."

Sam looked up at her friend, glanced briefly at Jack, who nodded encouragingly. She took a deep breath and reapplied the pliers. Once she had what she hoped was a good grip on the band, she started to twist ... and again, nothing happened. She was about to pull the pliers out when Teal'c said, "Allow me."

Sam nodded and slowly Teal'c replaced her hand on the pliers, both being careful not to dislodge them. "I will do my best to avoid injuring you, DanielJackson."

"Like I said, I can't feel anything. Give it your best shot, T."

Even as Daniel spoke, Teal'c twisted.

The bracelet opened.

Smiling, Jack said, "That's my man!"

Daniel lifted his arm and carefully removed the bracelet from around his wrist. He handed it to Sam. "Do with it as you will and don't ever say I never gave you anything."

For all their relief and happiness at being "rescued", Daniel could see the edginess in his teammates. Jack was restless and couldn't stop moving and Sam seemed to follow him wherever he went. Even Teal'c seemed to need to connect. Daniel felt helpless to make things easier for them, but then, he figured once they were all home, things would improve. Would have to improve. He was sure it was just being cooped up on board the Prometheus that was causing the nervousness. He watched Jack head back to the other side of the room while tossing a small red ball into the air. Sam was leaning against the book shelves, eyes on Jack.

Daniel closed the book he hadn't been reading and got to his feet. He walked over to the desk in the corner of the lounge, pulled out a white legal pad, a black marker and a pair of scissors. He waited until Jack passed him, then walked over to the game table and sat down. He started cutting up a piece of paper into small squares. Once he had thirty-six of them, he began to draw odd and strange designs on each one.

Jack paused in his pacing and peered over Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel?"

"On Segev, I learned a game called Buno. I thought you, being a chess aficionado, would find this game interesting. Care to give it a try?"

Jack grinned, and immediately tossed the ball to Sam, who caught it.

"Buno?"

Daniel smiled. "Yep. Whatcha think?"

Jack rubbed his hands together in anticipation and sat down opposite Daniel. "So it's like chess?"

"In a way. Your moves and the choices you make with the tiles - in this case, these squares of paper - pretty much determine who wins."

"Okay, I'll give it a try."

Daniel grinned as Sam and Teal'c both walked over and took the other two seats to watch and learn.

They stood before the Stargate while the symbols for Earth were put up. The Alpha site had welcomed them with cheering, hugs and "Thank Gods" but now - now they were moments from home. All four stood next to each other, shoulders almost touching. In front of them, Hammond and Jacob stood ready to go through first.

The wormhole burst out, and to Daniel, it almost seemed say, "I missed you, SG-1."

Fanciful, he was sure, but nevertheless, his grin widened.

And immediately faded. Once on the other side... the physical. And Janet.

Hammond looked back at his flagship team, grateful beyond measure to be able to see them. "SG-1, you ready to go home?"

"Let me put it this way, General," Jack said with a devilish gleam in his brown eyes. "You and Jacob might want to really pick up the pace."

"Right, Colonel. Let's go."

Hammond and Jacob walked through, SG-1 right on their heels.

"Okay, now this is the kind of welcome I'm always talking about," Jack whispered as they stepped out onto the ramp to a room full of cheering SGC personnel.

"And to think, we didn't even have to save Earth this time," Daniel answered drolly.

Because SG-7 had arrived back at the SGC just forty minutes before Hammond, Jacob and SG-1, and because they'd come through in worse shape than they'd left, beds in the Infirmary were at a premium. Daniel found himself being hustled into a private room while watching Jack, Sam and Teal'c being led in the opposite direction. It couldn't have worked out better if he'd planned it.

Doctor Wyatt smiled at him, held out the requisite gown and he groaned. So it begins.

"Your arm is healing remarkably well, Doctor Jackson. You have several bruises but nothing we need to be overly concerned about." Wyatt stepped away and made several notations on his chart, and Daniel knew she was documenting the new scars on his back. She hadn't asked about them, but that didn't surprise him. She'd probably made certain assumptions about the fact that he and the rest of SG-1 had been "prisoners" of the Yenarans. He noticed that she was slipping on a new pair of gloves, which meant the physical was about to get even more... intimate. It was time for Janet.

Daniel gave a small cough, and said, "Look, before we go any further, would you mind asking Doctor Frasier to come in? I'd like to go over something with her before I forget." He tried to give Wyatt his most brilliant, disarming smile.

"She'll be in later, Doctor Jackson."

"Uhm, right, but you know, I can get so forgetful, and this is important. Would you mind?"

Smiling at him, Wyatt finally nodded. "Sure. Hang on and I'll go get her."

Grinning broadly, Daniel said, "Thanks. Really appreciate it."

Watching her leave, he sighed in relief and prayed he'd be as successful with Janet as he'd been with Jacob.

"Well, Colonel, this one is for the books." Janet walked over to the exam bed, chart in hand. "You're held prisoner for three months and you return to us in better shape then when you left. Definitely a new SG-1 record. Same thing holds true for Sam and Teal'c."

"What can I say, Doc? We make model prisoners."

"I guess so. But I have to tell you, I expected at least a few new scars to add to your ever-lengthening medical record."

Jack grinned and shrugged. "Sorry, Doc. I promise to do better next time."

Janet laughed and closed the chart. "Don't go to any trouble on my account, okay? As in really don't."

"Doctor Frasier?"

Janet turned to see Wyatt at the edge of the curtain that separated Jack from Teal'c and Sam. "Doctor Wyatt?"

"Could I have a moment?"

"Of course, we're done here. I'll be right out."

"Thank you."

Wyatt moved away and allowed the curtain to drop back down. Janet patted Jack's thigh and said, "You can get dressed now. I'll give the good news to General Hammond but I want you to know that in spite of your excellent physical condition, I'm going to recommend to him that you and the rest of SG-1 be given at least two weeks medical leave. And by leave, I mean you don't even look at Cheyenne Mountain for the entire time."

"Aw, come on, Doc--"

She raised a finger. "Tut-tut, who knows best here? You've been gone for over three months and you know this is going to require a period of readjustment. You've been through it before, Colonel, and I'm depending on you to help your team through it now. And as eager as I know all of you are to return to duty, the fact is that you have three months to catch up on. Understood?"

Looking a bit sheepish, Jack nodded. "Understood."

"Good. Now get dressed and get the heck out of my Infirmary. I've got real patients to take care of." Any possible sting to her words was mitigated by her brilliant smile.

Elizabeth Wyatt was suddenly worried. If she'd heard Janet correctly, the rest of SG-1 was in perfect health with no injuries of any kind. Which was not the case with their archaeologist. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked back down at the chart in her hands. It had been obvious that Daniel Jackson had been whipped - several times. Yes, it was true that the scars weren't all that recent, but they most definitely had been a result of injuries sustained in the last three months.

"Liz? What's up?"

She turned to face Janet and gently led her away from SG-1, and out into the corridor. "Actually, it's Doctor Jackson. I'm not quite finished with his physical, but he wanted to see you first."

"No problem. I'm done here. Is that his chart?"

Liz glanced down at it ... and slowly nodded. "Yes... and I'm a bit confused. Did I just hear you say something about the rest of SG-1 being in better health than when they left?"

"Yes, and yes, I know, it's a miracle," Janet said with a smile. "But all three of them have even gained a bit of weight."

"And no... injuries ... of any kind?"

Puzzled now, Janet said, "No-o, why?"

Wordlessly, Liz handed Daniel's chart over to Janet. "I wish I could say the same thing about Doctor Jackson. In comparing his last physical to today, he's lost eleven pounds. But that's not all."

Janet looked at the chart now in her hand, and quickly opened it. She scanned the results noted so far, and slowly her puzzlement turned to worry. "He has ... new scarring?"

"Yes. I'd say as a result of a whipping. More than ... once."

Janet glanced back into the examining room and at the three curtains that hid Jack, Sam and Teal'c from view. "This doesn't make sense," she said, almost to her self. "Major Carter said that Daniel had been... and that...."

Her voice trailed off as she shut the chart. She looked back at Liz and said, "I'll take it from here, Liz. Thanks."

"All right. I'm due at the Academy in an hour, so--"

"Go ahead. We're clear now. And thanks for your assistance today."

"Any time."

It was taking all of Daniel's willpower not to get up and pace. Not to jiggle his leg. Not to yell bloody murder. He sat still, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his thighs. He was cold, damn it. He was always cold in the Infirmary, especially with his ass hanging out. He looked around the room and realized that it was altogether possible that he knew the Infirmary better than any other place in the SGC.

And what the hell did that say?

"Daniel?"

Okay, she'd managed to sneak up on him. He glanced up and smiled. "Hey, Janet. How's Jack? Sam? Teal'c?"

"They're all fine, Daniel. You, on the other hand, seem to have lost some weight."

"I'm not surprised."

She walked over, her heels clicking lightly on the floor. She dropped the chart onto the examining bed and said, "Oh?"

"You know me when I get involved in something. I was kind of turned into...."

He stopped. God, what an idiot. He'd almost started to give her the whole damn, made-up story, which was no way to get her on his side.

"Daniel?"

"You might want to pull up that chair over there. This might take a bit," he finally said, his grin disappearing.

While she was pulling the chair up, he glanced up at the video camera and thanked God there was no sound. And as long as he sat facing the west wall, lip reading would be out.

"Okay, I'm seated."

"Right. Thank you. Okay, so. I asked Doctor Wyatt to get you because I want you to finish off my physical. You and no one else."

She automatically reached for the chart. Opening it, she read all of Liz's notes to ascertain what Liz hadn't completed yet.

"Janet, the reason I want you to do it is because I don't want your findings - or any of Doctor Wyatt's more interesting notes, to appear in my chart, or on any report."

Janet's head shot up. "Maybe you'd better start from the beginning. Explain to me why you have new scars - apparently a result of some sort of ... whipping - and why you, unlike your teammates, have lost weight, when all you were doing was delving into the history of the people who held all four of you prisoner."

"That's easy, Janet. It was a pack of lies."

The words were said so simply, they almost didn't register. When they did, Janet was very glad she was sitting down. She was finally able to say, "I'm listening."

Daniel experienced a momentary flashback to another time, another bed, another explanation.

//Nausea will be followed be tremors, convulsions and something called ataxia. Surface tissue, brain tissue and internal organs will inflame and degrade, I believe that's called necrosis. Now based on the dose of radiation I got, all that will happen in the next 10-15 hours and, if I don't drown in my own fluids first, I will bleed to death and there is no medical treatment to prevent that.//

He gave himself a mental shake and started talking.

"The Yenarans have a caste-like system, Janet. They're a culture that knows nothing but war, and their entire society, such as it is now, is geared towards winning that war. Now below the ruling members of the government there were the Mercs. These were the men and women who fought the war, like Jack, Teal'c and Sam. The entire Yenaran society was built around them. On the next level were the Teks. These were the technical wizards, also like Sam, and they were held in almost as high esteem. Finally... there were the Servi. Those who provided services for the Mercs and the Teks. Naturally, one of those services ... were of a more ... physical ... nature. These were the Servi-1's."

He paused, took a deep breath, and added, "When it became apparent that I was not a soldier like Jack, Sam and Teal'c, I was taken away." He gave her a wry grin. "I'm not sure what criteria they used to decide that I should be a ... Servi-1, but that's what happened." He laughed a completely humorless laugh. "I was further given the distinction of being one of only thirteen Servi-1 to be something called an XY. That's a Servi-1 who is lucky enough to... appeal ... to both male and female Mercs."

Daniel shifted a bit and went on.

"When you move onto the more intimate procedures of my physical, well, certain things will become abundantly clear - which is why I wanted you now... and why I don't want the results in my file." He coughed slightly. "See, in the first weeks, in spite of being thoroughly prepared for what was going to happen, I kind of... fought the whole thing, hence the lovely new scars. I was punished rather frequently in the beginning, and later, well, let's just say that not all Mercs were content to ... they liked it ... you know... rough, and lube wasn't something they were familiar with, you know?"

He gave her the same wry smile as he added, "Okay, that might have been TMI. Sorry. Anyway, to put this all in a convienent nutshell, I was basically a male... whore. I'd say prostitute, but we didn't get paid."

When Janet said nothing, Daniel grinned again. "That was a joke, you know? The not getting paid part?" He leaned forward. "Janet? Har-har?"

//I was a ... male ... whore. I'd say prostitute, but we didn't get paid.//

The words entered her brain, but somehow, she was having trouble making sense out of them. She couldn't wrap her brain around the concept of Daniel Jackson being... used. Which was odd. Hadn't she and Sam seen him all those years ago after Hathor had collected her "code of life" from him?

Oh. Dear. God.

She put a hand out, for what reason, she didn't know, other than she had the feeling she might fall over.

"Janet? Are you okay?"

She focused then, her vision clearing and Daniel's face becoming clear. "Me? I'm fine. Fine. Just... fine. I don't think I really... understand. Sam said--"

"Sam told you what I told them. They don't know the truth and that's why we're talking now. Why I want it out of my file. Why I don't want you to tell anyone. I ... they shouldn't have to know, see? Jacob knows because he's the one who came to Segev. He thought Sam would be there, but all he got was me. But Remo told him everything and I convinced him how much harm it would do to Jack, Sam and Teal'c if they knew. Surely you see that? There is no reason for anyone to know that a member of the SGC spent three months serving a bunch of aliens on another planet, you know? Not that it wouldn't do wonders for my reputation as a sex god, and all, but really, that will only interfere with my work."

"I can't... I don't see how...."

"Janet, I know what I'm asking of you. That it goes against everything you are, that it puts your career at risk, but ultimately, you pride yourself on your ability to take care of us, and the best way you can do that, in this instance, is to let my lie stand. It will kill Jack if he finds out. You know that. You know how he is, how he feels about his command. This could really do a number on him and the team. Irreparable harm, Janet." He looked away finally, down at his clenched hands, "I'm begging you."

He held his breath and closed his eyes. When there was no answer, he whispered, "Janet?"

"Janet?"

"Well, that should do it, Daniel. And I want to thank you for your patience in undergoing a redo of everything Doctor Wyatt did. I still can't believe I spilled coffee on her excellent work. Everything so meticulously detailed. But fortunately, she was just helping out today and isn't likely to be back, let alone looking at your file. She'll never know what a klutz I am."

Daniel sat up, his hands shaking slightly. That had been the most difficult exam he'd ever had to undergo. And judging by Janet's expression - so at odds from her words - it hadn't been much of a joyful experience for her either. But at least she knew that basically he was all right. Where it counted.

"No problem, Janet. None at all," he said in the same tone of voice.

"Good. Okay, so other than some weight loss, which can be explained by the fact that Colonel O'Neill wasn't around to get you to leave your work and actually eat, you're the picture of health. You can get dressed now. General Hammond is expecting you and the rest of SG-1 in the conference room in twenty."

Janet closed the chart, dropped her hand on his thigh, squeezed it, and then walked out.

He let all of the air in his lungs out and sagged forward. He could never repay Janet for this, but damn it, he'd try. He reached for his uniform and started to get dressed.

Janet walked into her office and sat down, Daniel's chart still in her hand. She glanced at the other three charts that Lieutenant Marshall had delivered, and slowly, almost tenderly, ran her hand over them. She knew on one level, that Daniel had been right about SG-1 knowing the truth, but on another level, she suspected Daniel was wrong. SG-1 could have handled the truth, would have survived.

//And Daniel?//

Therein lay the real reason for giving into his request. While her friend was indeed worried about protecting his friends, the reality was that he was the one who might be destroyed if they knew the truth. In spite of the fact that he didn't see life the same way as his teammates, that events were never black or white, he'd still see only black for himself if they knew. The world was variegated. Shaded. Muted by exceptions and circumstances, cultures and history, and the human heart, for others. But not for Daniel. Where he'd give others every chance in the world, he rarely gave himself a second chance. His world was black and white.

She wondered how stable he really was right now - and what could she do to help him? Oh, she'd brought up the idea of seeing someone, but he'd waved her off, told her he was okay - weeks okay. He was where he needed to be, and as long as no one else knew the truth - he'd be fine.

She wasn't sure she believed him, but time would tell.

Janet continued to stroke the files as she contemplated the kind of fallout for Daniel and the SGC if the truth were in black and white in Daniel's chart. She shook her head. Another damn good reason for giving into Daniel, because once this kind of thing did get into a file; once it was official, there was no turning back. And it would get out. The SGC still had its enemies and she could only imagine what they'd do with this kind of information. What it would do to Daniel if it got out.

She gave a firm nod of head. Yes, for now, this was the best course of action for Daniel. She was pretty certain that Jack, Sam and Teal'c could have handled it. Could maybe even have made things better for Daniel. Easier, if he'd let them. But wasn't that the rub?

If he'd let them. And when had he? Ever? So much of him was completely bottled up and unshared. Even with Jack, his closest friend. Had Daniel ever talked to anyone about Abydos, Skaara, or what it felt like to have descended? To be the guy who died only to come back a year later?

No.

//No one really asked.//

She closed her eyes. Her version of Jiminy Cricket was about to begin a close and personal relationship with Raid.

Enough. She had a briefing to attend.

"Yes, sir, perfect health, but I still think two weeks leave is mandatory, General."

"Aw, come on, Doc. We're fine, you said so yourself," Jack whined.

"Sir, I believe we've already had this conversation."

"But--"

"Colonel?" Hammond interrupted. "I'm in complete agreement with Doctor Frasier. Two weeks leave and you stay out of Cheyenne Mountain. Teal'c, I'm assuming you'd like to visit your son?"

"I would, General Hammond. And thank you."

"Sir, I had several projects--"

"Major Carter, you've been MIA for three months - your projects, if not already completed, will wait an additional two weeks. All three of you have homes to take care of, lives to become reacquainted with. Two weeks, this is non-negotiable."

Daniel raised a hand, his index finger doing its little "But sir" dance. "General, the video--"

"The translation can wait, Doctor Jackson. It's waited all these years and I think two more weeks won't make a difference. It will be here when you return."

"Yes, sir."

"SG-1, you're dismissed, and if I see any of you back here before June tenth, you'll be shot."

"So."

"So."

"So."

The three remaining members of SG-1 looked at each other and then the elevator.

"So, Carter, you and Jacob going to be spending some quality time together?"

"Yes, sir. We're leaving for Mark's tomorrow, but will be back on Saturday."

"Good. Good. Daniel? What are your plans?"

"Uhm... yard work?"

"What, you don't think the Air Force took care of your place while we were ... gone?"

"I'm sure they did, but probably not up to my standards as a fairly new homeowner."

"Good point."

The elevator had still not arrived and Jack found himself saying, "So," again.

"So, Sam, where's Jacob now?"

"He's meeting with General Hammond but will join me later this afternoon. We're going to eat out. I've been dying for sushi for the last three months and tonight, I'm going to have it."

"Sushi?" Jack gave a mock shiver. "Grilled, Carter. All good fish should be grilled."

Sam rolled her eyes and asked, "Daniel, what food have you missed?"

Daniel went dreamy as he said, "Chocolate milk. And popcorn. I'm going to stop at the store and buy a gallon of the stuff and as many boxes of Newman's Own popcorn that will fit in the Jeep. And I'm going to add tons of butter."

"Pizza," Jack said unnecessarily. "And beer."

"Duh," Daniel said with a soft smile.

The elevator finally arrived and all three stepped in, more than eager to actually get to their respective homes, to sleep in their own beds, and to do all the things they'd been thinking about for three months.

Once out of the mountain, they walked together to their cars. As Jack unlocked his Ford, he said, "Maybe we could all get together when you and Jacob get back?"

"Sure, why not?" Sam looked up at the blue sky and smiled. "It's almost summer. When we left, it was still cold and had just snowed."

Daniel nodded even as he noted how clean his car was. "They even took care of our vehicles, guys."

"All three together, clean as a whistle and I'm betting fully fueled," Jack said proudly.

"Gotta love the Air Force," Daniel said with an evil grin.

All three laughed, but the laughter was slightly strained. They were going home and with that knowledge came an almost inherent fear of what they'd find. Sam gazed wistfully back at the mountain and said, "I'd probably do better to stay here for a couple of days...."

Daniel put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze as he said softly, "Not really, Sam. That would just be avoidance."

"Would it?" she asked. "I almost do better here than at home. It's ... easier, I guess."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Daniel said, "That's a topic for a whole 'nother discussion, Sam. One that would delve into why we don't have lives."

Jack climbed into his Ford and said, "Speak for yourself, Daniel. I have a life and I'm off for two weeks to enjoy it."

Sam almost giggled as she said, "Fishing, sir?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm at the mercy of the wind and where it takes me. For two whole weeks."

"Other than our little get-together when Sam returns, right?"

"Natch. Now both of you, get out of here. Go home. Enjoy the popcorn, Daniel, but don't OD, okay?"

Daniel gave a little wave and turned to his own car. He got in at the same time as Sam got into hers, and a few minutes later - all three were headed down the mountain toward the city ... and home.

Daniel thought it odd how, other than a squeeze here or there, none of them had really... touched. He'd wanted to hug all of them, had wanted to hug Teal'c in the 'Gate room before he'd gone through. Had wanted to hug Sam just now... and yes, Jack too.

Oh, well. That's life, as they say.

Four days later -

Daniel had cleaned his house four times in four days. He'd also mowed, watered, even cleaned out a clean garage - every day. He'd enjoyed his chocolate milk and popcorn too. Every night. A routine. Amazing.

A routine that wasn't helping.

But he'd started another one in an effort to keep the darkness that seemed to reside on the edge of his mind, away. Every night, before the chocolate milk and popcorn, around six or so, he'd sit down at the piano and play. For hours. The weather had been lovely, with the daylight stretching until after seven, so he'd kept his front door open, along with all the windows, and played. There was enough space between his house and the rest of the neighborhood that he doubted he was bothering anyone with his music. In fact, he'd noticed how many neighbors had begun to take early evening walks right after he'd start playing.

Maybe they enjoyed it. Maybe.

In fact, it was after six now and yep, his fingers were itching to play. He walked over to his front door and stood on the porch for a few moments, taking in the fragrant, almost-summer air. Across the street, he noticed his neighbors coming out with drinks and sitting on their front porch. There were also several others starting their walks. He turned away and walked back inside and over to his piano. He sat down and decided on some Beethoven tonight.

His fingers caressed the keys and music flowed forth, soothing and all encompassing. Gentle notes floated up and seemed to mingle with the scent of blossoming flowers and freshly cut grass. Outside, his neighbors settled in for what had become a much anticipated nightly concert from the blue house at the end of the block.

As he played, he lost himself in the music, and for a few short hours, could forget.

//This is O'Neill. The fish are jumping, I'm catching. Leave your message and I might get back to you.//

Daniel put the phone down without leaving a message. He walked over to the sliding glass doors that led to his backyard but didn't go outside. It was raining and matched his mood to the proverbial tee. His phone had not rung once - if you didn't count the telemarketers - since he'd left the mountain over a week ago. By now, he figured Sam and Jacob had to be back, but evidently Jack was still in Minnesota. He stared out over the lawn, watching the raindrops hit the grass. He could almost imagine the small plopping sound. He could see his reflection in the glass and gave himself a wry smile.

He'd been home a week and a half and he'd discovered that he was - still -- libido-less. Wow, linguist supreme and he'd just made up a new word.

To put it in layman's terms, his libido had taken a hike. He supposed he really shouldn't be surprised, but he was. When you lead the kind of life he did - namely the "without sex" kind, you got kind of used to your right hand, and in his case, he'd become - before the last mission - very fond of his showers. He'd enjoyed the heat, steam, the convenience of already being wet and able to clean up, and he'd enjoyed the relaxation of it. The ease of how his imagination supplied him with a lover as the steam wrapped itself around him and the water sluiced down over his body... and the fact that the lover, for the last three years - okay, not counting his ascension because the libido was a very different thing when you were ascended - had been Jack.

He didn't feel guilty imagining Jack in the shower with him; not at all. It was actually liberating, in a way. He'd come to terms with his love for the man quite a while ago, so letting his mind convince him that Jack was behind him, arm wrapped around his waist, hand on his dick - well, it seemed perfectly normal. Of course, he'd nixed those fantasies on Segev, hadn't wanted Jack to have any part in his life there, but had been looking forward to revisiting them once he was home. Unfortunately - no amount of imagining, no amount of naked Jack running through his mind, could help him get his dick to take an interest in anything. Nada, zip, nothing.

He knew his libido had been gone for the last three months. It certainly hadn't been a necessity when the choosing Merc was a male. They couldn't have cared less if his dick so much as twitched - which it never had, for obvious reasons. The few females on leave had always come equipped with a nice little drug that took care of his dick and allowed him to please them. The fact that the drug was standard operating procedure because the women didn't want to risk their leave on a non-performing Servi-1 hadn't fazed him at all. He'd been damn grateful. Even Remo used it when Marisk was on Segev and with him.

What he found truly amazing even now was that every single Merc he'd been with had been a fucking top.

What did that say about the Yenarans? Sheesh.

Damn, he really missed those showers though.

The day had darkened even more in the short time he'd been at the window, and so had his mood. He should play but not even the promise of soothing music was helping him today.

Damn it, he needed to be at Cheyenne Mountain, in blue fatigues, in his lab, so that he'd know who he was. So he could stop his goddamned mind.

Jack tossed his bag in the backseat of the rental, walked around to the driver's side and got in. He glanced back at his cabin and wondered why it had brought him no comfort this week. Sure, it had been quiet, and he'd needed that, but the quiet had quickly rubbed his nerves raw. Which was why he was leaving early. He backed down the long drive, pulled a u-turn, and headed out.

As the scenery zipped past him, he again wondered why his "reconnect" time at the cabin had failed so miserably. He'd managed to do the getting grounded routine at home so why not out here? It made no sense.

When he hit the interstate, he slid in a CD and, as Mozart filled the car, pondered the last few days. Surrounded by himself, he'd certainly had plenty of time to think. Something he'd spent a great deal of time avoiding.

Maybe the problem was the fact that who he really needed to reconnect with hadn't been with him. Maybe the problem was that he'd spent three months trying to get Daniel back, and once they'd all been reunited, he'd up and headed for his cabin. Maybe the problem was that he was getting tired of all the looks Carter kept shooting him. Maybe the problem was ... him.

Ya think?

For the next hour, as he fought the morning traffic to the airfield, he returned to his current policy of avoidance. Something he'd gotten pretty damn good at of late.

Monday dawned grey and cold, almost as if Spring was giving Summer a lesson in not counting chickens before the first day of Summer. Daniel parked his Jeep next to Jack's truck and got out. He stretched a bit, pocketed his keys and started the long walk to the entrance to the mountain.

There'd never been a call and thus, no barbecue, but Daniel couldn't say he was totally upset about that. It would have been difficult to hide the darkness that seemed to dog his every step from his friends. Here at work he could at least bury himself in the translation of the tower from Segev, and anything else that came up, and thus would simply appear to be his usual work-absorbed self.

He checked in, waited for the clearance, and when given the go-ahead, made his slow way to the elevator. Damn, he hated this weird kind of limbo that said it was a good thing that there'd been no barbecue, but also said it was a very bad thing. SG-1 should have found a way to get together, to reconnect. Of course, only one member had been disconnected during their oh-so-enjoyable vacation with the Yenarans so obviously there was no need to reconnect. Which again left him with the proverbial glass that was either half full or half empty.

Half empty or half full glasses were probably indicative of his current mental state: The odd kind of grief that came with the knowledge that there was no need to reestablish anything with him, offset by the relief.

The elevator opened and he rode down, changed elevators and went down to his floor. Once in his lab, he felt the first stirrings of excitement as he looked at the folder with the photos of the tower walls. He took off his jacket, slung it over the back of his chair and, using great restraint, powered up his computer to check emails. While it was doing its thing, he checked his ingoing mail box and found a couple dozen notes and cards welcoming him back. He smiled in appreciation and turned his attention to his email. More welcome back notes and several emails questioning the time and date for the next department meeting. Ah, the mundane things of a life reclaimed. He checked for an email from General Hammond or Jack alerting him to any kind of briefing - and finding none - sent off an email to his staff suggesting they return to their previously scheduled staff meetings every Friday. He also thanked everyone for the notes and then suggested a quick catch-up lunch meeting on Tuesday, in the Commissary, and he was buying. He grinned as he hit send.

Finding very little else to respond to, and nothing of importance or urgency in his mail box, he turned to the tower photos, his conscience clear. He knew this would take time, would take a second seat to anything else that came along, but he needed it. The tower walls and their writings would be his lifeline.

Two hours later, deeply entrenched - but getting nowhere - his concentration was broken when his email program pinged. He glanced up to see who the email was from and almost jumped out of his chair.

Jack.

He quickly opened... and read it.

//Hey, how's your first day back? Can I come down and bug you yet? And aren't you proud of me for asking first? Man, I'm good.//

The smile that split Daniel's face almost hurt, thanks to muscles unaccustomed to the exercise. He started typing.

//I am very proud of you. You may just be maturing. Or not. As to whether you can come down and bug me yet, let me just say that I have ... new ... artifacts.//

He hit send and wondered how long it would take Jack.

Daniel, smile still firmly in place, went back to the translation. He didn't get far as the sound of pounding footsteps and boots skidding just outside his door heralded ... Jack.

"New... artifacts?" Jack breathed out, clearly out of breath.

Laughing, Daniel spun around on his chair, nodded and pointed to the crate at the end of his table. "Fiddle away, Jack. Just remember, you drop 'em, you buy 'em. And considering most of them are priceless, well, I'm not too confident about the government's installment plan."

He watched Jack move to the crate and, looking for all the world like a five-year-old on Christmas morning, dig in. Daniel was pretty sure nothing had ever looked better than the sight of Jack in his office, and having fun. He couldn't keep his eyes from the man.

Home was home... but without Jack ... it was nothing.

Scary. Very scary. But so true that Daniel could do nothing but live with the fact. As he'd been doing for years.

"Okay, what the hell is this?" Jack lifted out what appeared to be a statue of a man with a very large penis.

Daniel cocked his head and said thoughtfully, "A man with a very large penis?"

"Daniel?"

"Whatever you do, Jack, don't fiddle ... with the dick."

He watched almost gleefully as Jack put the artifact down - very - very - carefully.

"It has a name, right?"

"His dick? I don't think so, Jack."

"No, Daniel," Jack said patiently. "The artifact."

"Oh. The artifact. Well, SG-17 thought it was Baal."

Jack took two steps back. "Tell me it isn't Baal, Daniel."

"It isn't Baal, Jack."

"Are you just telling me that because I asked you to?"

"Yes. And because it's not Baal. It's Ashur. He was the god of fertility. Assyria. Married to Ishtar."

Jack moved back to the table. "You know, Daniel, it really worries me that you know that. That you know the difference between Baal's dick and Arthur's."

"Ashur's. And what can I say? It's a gift."

Jack shot him a disbelieving look. "Riiight." He peered into the box again and almost cackled as he drew out... a rock. "Oh, look here. A... rock. Now how would anyone know this was a Daniel rock and not a Carter rock?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes at the "rock" and said, "Uhm, I don't think Sam's rocks usually have hieroglyphs on them, but I could be wrong."

Jack twisted the rock around and went "Ah" as he brought the item close and squinted. "How the heck could you see these little itty-bitty chicken scratches from where you are?"

"That would be my thirty-something eyes versus your forty-something eyes, Jack."

"Bastard," Jack snorted.

Daniel simply grinned. How pathetic was it that this was the happiest he'd been in almost four months.

"So you're saying this could take time--"

"Lots of time. On top of being a mixture of the four languages - I think it's in code."

"Code? Code?"

Daniel stared at the photos and almost reluctantly nodded. "Yes. If I'm reading this right, which again, I'm probably not."

"Daniel, you're giving me a headache."

Daniel removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he said, "Okay, let's start over." He put his glasses back on and said, "I should have been able to crack quite a bit of this by now because I... well, I can ... you know, read each of the languages in question - to varying degrees. BUT - since what I have been able to come up with is pure garbage, I'd have to say I'm looking at a code. What I can tell you is that one man wrote all of it."

"Name?"

"I haven't found it yet. Call him Harold if you have to have a name."

"Right. Harold. Go on."

Rolling his eyes, Daniel went on. "Uhm, well, that's it."

Daniel rubbed the back of his head. Jack, worried, said, "Are you okay?"

He nodded and answered, "Yeah, yeah. This is just so ... unreal. Harold goes to all the trouble of getting that tower built and then covers the walls in indecipherable gibberish. It makes no sense. "

"I can get behind that. So you have something to occupy your time when you get bored. And no one is going to take it away from you this time. Although I'm thinking this isn't a meaning of life kind of thing."

"No, but it is interesting."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Daniel, to you, chicken scratches are interesting."

"Only if they're in a foreign language, Jack," Daniel said straight-faced.

"Har-har. Okay, I'm going to let you play a while longer and then I'm coming back and collecting you for lunch. Got it?"

"Well--"

"Daniel? Got it?"

Daniel gave a mock salute. "Got it."

"Good."

Leaving Daniel's office, Jack felt good for the first time in weeks. He felt ... right. He turned the corner and almost ran into Carter. "Whoa, what's the rush?" he said as he caught her and kept her standing upright.

"Sorry, sir. I was actually on my way to your office. Thought I'd check in." She stepped away and straightened her jacket. "How was your time-off, Colonel?"

"It was fine, just fine. Yours?"

"Great, sir. Dad and I just got back in. He's with General Hammond now."

"Ah. So, how's the family?"

"Mark is fine, everyone is fine." She suddenly seemed uncomfortable and shifted her body a bit before smiling up at him.

"That's good. Daniel's busy playing with his translation from the tower - promises to be a nice 'keep Danny happy' exercise. He's in seventh heaven."

"That's our Daniel. So," she tilted her head slightly, "any word on a mission, Colonel?"

"Not yet." He checked his watch and said, "I'm due in General Hammond's office right now, as a matter of fact. But I can tell you that he was making sounds two weeks ago about no missions until we'd had at least a week here to acclimate ourselves and catch up. You know, the usual."

"Ah. Then I guess I'll get to it. Maybe we can meet for lunch later? I'm buying."

"Oh, sure, why not. I'll be there anyway. Say two hours?"

Looking slightly surprised, she nevertheless said a hesitant, "Sure."

Watching her walk away, Jack realized he was disappointed. He'd wanted the lunch hour with Daniel - alone.

"Fat chance now," he muttered as he headed toward Hammond's office.

Hammond relaxed back in his chair, regarded Jack with a worried eye, and asked, "So how are you doing -- really?"

Jack shifted in the chair and gave Hammond a small "you know how it is" shrug. "This is old hat for me, sir. Been there, done that, almost had a wife to prove it."

Hammond gave Jack a look that clearly telegraphed his disbelief. "I was there last time, remember? I know exactly how difficult it was for you."

Thoughtful look on his face, Jack said, "It wasn't leaving Eudora and it wasn't exactly the process of reintegrating myself that was so hard. It was," he looked upward and scratched at his chin, "more the fact that for one hundred days... all I wanted was to go home, and as each day passed, that became less and less likely. Then, just as I was about to accept the fact that I'd be there for the rest of my life, Laira gives me the radio and says she heard voices speaking from it. When I saw Teal'c's face looking up at me - I don't think I was ever happier."

Looking very surprised, Hammond leaned forward slightly. "So you weren't in love with her?"

"I was ... fond... of her, but in love? No. She was - is - a wonderful woman, but what I wanted was here, the life I wanted was here."

"So the problems in returning home were?"

Jack gave out with a dry, humorless laugh. "Damned if I know. I was here, had it all back again, and yet - something was missing."

"Maybe you cared more for--"

"No, sir. With all due respect, no. What was - and is - missing, was missing before Eudora. I just realized it - and felt it more keenly -- upon my return."

"And this time, Jack?"

"This time... the same sense ... yet not. And no, I can't explain it any better than that. This time, I spent three months worrying and trying to get Daniel back with us, knowing that we'd go home eventually and scared to death that somehow it would be without him. Now we're home, we're together, everyone is healthy, and yet... and yet...."

His voice trailed off and he grinned a bit sheepishly. "All this heart-to-heart without the benefit of any of your very special scotch. Wow."

Hammond looked at his watch. "Sorry, Jack, it's only nine-thirty. But feel free to drop by later - around six." He grinned.

Rising to his feet and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Jack said, "Don't be surprised if I take you up on that."

"Seriously, Jack. You know I'm always here."

"I know, General. I know."

Jack was now left with the prospect of having to actually check up on his paperwork and catch up with the SGC. After that -- lunch with Daniel -- and Carter.

"Daniel, we need your help."

Looking up from the photo of the tower walls, Daniel squinted at Nyan. "Oh?"

Picking up his friend's glasses and handing them to him, Nyan smiled and said, "We have been given the task of translating a ... rug ... brought back from P3X-200 by SG-3. Apparently it is some kind of test and if we can figure it out, SG-3 will be able to open up negotiations for mining. But we are not having any luck. Would you be able to join us? We've brought in sandwiches from--"

Daniel looked at his watch and realized how late it was. And no Jack - which meant no lunch. He glanced over at Nyan, grinned, and asked, "Tuna or chicken salad?"

"Both. And ham with swiss as well as turkey clubs."

"Count me in. Conference room?"

"2A."

"Give me fifteen."

Grinning, Nyan nodded. "It is so good to have you back, Daniel. So very good."

"I missed you too."

Jack left his office cursing. A few hours at his desk and he'd become a prisoner. Figures there was a reason he'd always ignored the fact that he had an office. Goddamned prison, that's what it was. And now he was late picking up Daniel, and he just knew Carter was waiting, probably already at a table. He quickened his step and hurried around the corner toward Daniel's office, only to run smack into the man himself. Their bodies hit, heads whacked and books and papers went flying. Jack reached out immediately, grabbed Daniel to steady him, and was floored when Daniel angrily yanked his arm away while at the same time, jumping back.

"Whoa, Daniel, it's just me. Are you okay?" Even as he asked, he searched Daniel's face and noted the redness on his forehead where they'd hit. He absently rubbed his own now- sore head.

Blinking up at him, Daniel seemed to need to focus - to be coming back from far away. He gave a small shake of his head, gingerly touched his forehead, and said, "Yeah, yeah, sorry. Should have watched where I was going."

Jack looked at the mess on the floor and started to bend over, but caught himself as Daniel did the same. Once Daniel was down, he squatted next to him and, together, they picked everything up. Once Daniel's arms were loaded down again, Jack said, "What's with all the crap?"

"Meeting, conference room 2A, team stuck on a rug," Daniel said as he used his forearm to shove his glasses back up.

"Stuck on a ... rug? Your team is stuck on a rug?"

"Translation - uhm, a tapestry with symbols and the usual suspects. SG-3 thinks it's important and--"

"Okay, okay, I get it. So lunch is out then?"

"Uhm, well, yeah... er, no, er, I mean they have lunch, I'm eating... you know."

"With them," Jack finished for him.

"Yeah."

"Well, you're going to miss a great lunch with me and Carter, but hey, your loss."

"I think I'll survive. Besides, I'm sure you two would rather be alone."

Stunned, Jack found himself speechless as Daniel gave him a small grin and moved around him to continue on his way. "Say hi to Sam for me. I went down to her lab earlier but missed her."

Jack followed Daniel down the corridor with his eyes, still unable to say anything. When Daniel had disappeared around the other corner, Jack let out the lungful of air he hadn't realized he was holding.

What the fuck?

Why would Daniel think he and Carter would want to be alone? And what was with the whole pulling away thing?

Giving a surreptitious look around him, he made a covert attempt at smelling under his arms before heading back the way he'd come.

Daniel stopped in front of the closed conference room door, not yet ready to walk in. He'd been having difficulty breathing since accidentally slamming into Jack. He could still feel Jack's hand on his arm, burning through his jacket - only it wasn't Jack's hand. The flashback had hit him hard and taken him by surprise.

//"You will do as I say, Thirteen. I own you for the next five hours. I have heard of your inability to conform and I can tell you now that I will not tolerate anything but appropriate Servi-1XY behavior."

The man who had yet to identify himself reached out quickly and grabbed Daniel's arm. He gave him a good yank and literally threw him toward the bed. Daniel stumbled, caught himself and just as he was straightening up, the man gave him a push with a large hand planted between his shoulder blades. He fell onto the bed and a moment later his body was covered by the large Yenaran. He couldn't breathe and it was obvious the Merc couldn't care less. His face was pressed into the rough blanket, his eyes screwed shut as the Merc tore at the thin pants....//

But he could breathe, and Daniel needed to keep telling himself that. Hell, the SGC pumped in gallons and gallons of air every minute, so, of course, he could breathe. And it had been Jack's hand on his arm - no one else's.

Daniel stretched his neck first to the right, then left, and satisfied, opened the door to the conference room and walked in.

Jack strode into the commissary and spotted Carter immediately. He also found himself grinning.

She wasn't alone - Jacob was with her.

There was a god.

Once at the table, Jacob rose long enough to shake hands. "You look good, Jack."

"Feel good, Jacob. Fishing will do that for a guy."

"I thought Teal'c said there were no fish in your lake, sir?"

"I didn't say catching fish, Carter," he said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "I said fishing. Casting your line, putting your feet up on the beer cooler, hat pulled low over your eyes, the breeze keeping the mosquitoes away, and the silence of the woods around you. That's fishing, Major."

"Ah. How did I not know that?" she said, her lips twitching upward.

"Because you've never been fishing?" Jack said.

"That would be it, Sammy."

"Okay, on that note, I'm getting in line. Chicken Cacciatore today."

"I thought the pork chops were on the menu?" Jack asked as he and Jacob fell in line behind her.

"They are, but I don't want pork chops, I want--"

"Let me guess: Chicken Cacciatore?"

"Got it in one, sir."

"So when is Teal'c due back?"

"Tomorrow. He didn't want to leave without seeing Rya'c," Sam answered while buttering her roll.

"Who was on another recruiting mission with Bra'tac," Jack explained.

"Ah." Jacob glanced around the room and asked, "So where's Daniel?"

"I asked him but he had a meeting with his people - something about a rug that needed translating."

Jacob put the soup spoon down. "Excuse me? A rug?"

"You invited him to join us?" asked a clearly surprised Carter at the same time.

Both men looked at her and she shrugged. "What?"

"Why wouldn't he, Sam? The team is separated for three months, you come home, are off and apart for another two weeks, hell, I'd think you'd want to touch bases."

"Which reminds me. Carter," Jack interrupted. "Daniel said to tell you hi. He went down to your lab earlier today but missed you."

"Oh... I must have been with dad. I guess."

"So how is Daniel?" Jacob asked, a small frown on his face as he watched his daughter.

"He's fine," Jack said. "Oddly jumpy though. Or maybe it was just excitement ... or something."

Eyes back on Jack, Jacob asked, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. We bumped into each other - literally - and when I reached for him, to steady him, he acted as though I'd set him on fire or something. But it could just be me. I could have imagined it."

Jacob pushed his mashed potatoes around on his plate, and said thoughtfully, "Funny action from a guy who's just had two weeks off, don't you think?"

"Like I said - oddly jumpy."

"Oh, come on, sir. No disrespect intended, but Daniel with something new to translate usually means that he acts kind of wonky."

Two sets of brown eyes looked at her and she said, "What?"

"Wonky?" Jacob asked.

"Wonky, Carter?"

"Well, he does," she groused.

"This wasn't 'wonky', Carter. I know Daniel's moods better than I know my own. Wonky doesn't cover it." He knew his tone was sharp, but he couldn't help it. He suddenly felt the need to... defend... his friend. And why he should have to ... let alone from Carter....

"I'm just saying," she said as she dug back into her lunch.

"Jack, I can honestly say that you've been a bad influence on my daughter. She's starting to sound like you."

Jack gave a mock shiver. "Anything but that, Jacob. Anything but that."

Daniel turned the rug and lifted the magnifying glass again. He bent over, barely aware of the voices of his team as they discussed the symbols. He could hear Nyan arguing with Peterson but he tuned them out in order to concentrate. Until....

"... thirteen?"

He dropped the magnifying glass, whipped his head around and said, "Yes?"

Nyan cocked his head and, puzzled, "Daniel?"

Blinking as if returning from a great distance, Daniel said, "Didn't you... didn't you call me?"

"No, Daniel. We were talking about this," he tapped one of the symbols on the rug, "and why there seem to be so many dark representations of the number thirteen."

"Oh," Daniel said lamely. "Sorry." He looked over at the area Nyan had alluded to and said, "From what I've seen so far, we're looking at a very superstitious people. We know this," he pointed at the bright circle in the middle of the rug, "is represented seven times," he tapped each of the other circles, all bright, but considerably smaller, "so seven would seem to represent much the same for the Nigones as it does for us. Namely a lucky number. Colonel Martins said that the town was circular, the primary building, their temple, was circular, and all wore the same necklace, the circle pendant. I suspect that represents the Stargate."

He was talking fast, and he knew it, but the room was getting darker and he was holding on by the skin of his teeth. His stomach was rebelling and he was praying he could hold it together a bit longer.

"Therefore, I think we've already passed one part of the test. I would suggest to SG-3 that they take SG-15 with them when they return."

Everyone around the table froze in the middle of whatever they'd been doing. At the far end, Doctor Sula repeated, "SG-15? Why?"

"They're a three person team. Four members for SG-3, three for SG-15. Seven members."

Everyone looked at each other and finally back at Daniel. They smiled.

"Man, we missed you, Daniel," Doctor Efraim said.

Daniel smiled, nodded, agreed on the time for their "I'm buying" lunch meeting tomorrow, and made his hasty exit. He ducked into one of the bathrooms and quickly locked himself into a stall - whereupon he lost the meager contents of his stomach.

He'd answered to ... "thirteen."

He'd actually answered to thirteen.

Daniel unrolled some of the toilet paper and wiped his mouth before sitting back on his haunches.

It was a damn number. It came after twelve and before fourteen. It meant nothing - except to the Nigones and other highly superstitious people - of which he wasn't.

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the stall door.

"Daniel? Are you all right?"

Nyan.

Without opening his eyes, he said, "I'm fine. I think it was the coleslaw."

"You are the only one who ate any of it. Perhaps I should call Doctor Frasier?"

"No, Nyan. Not necessary. Already over. I'll be out in a minute, okay?"

"If you are certain?"

"I am."

"All right. I will wait for you outside, just to make certain that you are well."

Daniel heard the door close and slowly rose to his feet. He flushed the toilet, opened the stall door and walked unsteadily to the sink. After splashing water on his face and rinsing his mouth several times, he felt somewhat normal again. He checked his pockets and was grateful when he found a packet of gum. He popped a stick into his mouth and, after chewing for several seconds, walked out to meet Nyan.

Back in the haven of his office, he brushed his teeth two times, gargled, spit, and finally went back to work on the tower photos.

An hour later, eyes burning, he was grateful when Jack walked in.

"Missed you at lunch. Jacob and Selmac said to say hi, by the way."

"We got a lot done on the rug, but still, sorry I missed you guys. I've yet to see Sam at all today. Is she okay? Adjusting all right?"

"She's fine."

"Good. Good."

"Still working on the tower photos?"

Daniel looked down at the pictures and nodded. "Nothing else in my box, so, yeah, still having fun with it."

"Ah. So ... dinner tonight?"

"Dinner usually happens, Jack. Breakfast followed by lunch followed by dinner."

"I mean dinner at my place, asshole."

"Wow, after a heartfelt invitation like that, how could I refuse?"

"Sweet. Six okay?"

"I'll be there."

Jack nodded, but made no move to leave. He did a little half twist on the stool but remained in place, albeit silent. Finally Daniel said, "Jack?"

"Hammond isn't going to assign us any missions for ... a while."

Daniel noticed that Jack was doing his "I'm not happy" fiddling, the item being fiddled with in this case -- Daniel's good NASA pen. It was obvious Jack was upset, so Daniel turned off the small magnifying glass light and focused all his attention on his friend.

"So what's up with that?"

"Some kind of we-need-time-yadda-yadda crap. Personally, I think we need to get back on that round blow-hole of a horse and as soon as possible. But who's asking me?"

"You had horses while you were working with the Yenarans?" Daniel asked innocently.

Jack dropped Daniel's pen and looked up at him, brown eyes wide. "Daniel?"

"Mmm?"

Jack's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You dick."

Daniel grinned.

"I take it this news doesn't bother you?"

"It bothers me if it bothers you - and since it does, then yes, the news bothers me."

Jack made like he was shaking water out of his ear and said, "You really are a dick."

Daniel indicated Jack's head and asked, "Anything worthwhile come out? Anything I should get off the floor and try to stuff back in?"

"You remember those planes that skywrite in the sky, right?"

Wondering where this was going, Daniel slowly nodded.

"Well, I have a friend who does it on the weekends. I'm going to have him write, 'Daniel is a dick' in the sky over Colorado Springs. Maybe all weekend."

"Don't forget to add the epilogue: 'But Jack is a putz'."

"So all this to say that you don't really care that we're grounded for at least another two weeks?"

Daniel regarded Jack from behind his glasses and finally reached over and 'knocked' on his friend's head. "Hello? How grounded do you think we'll be if I figure out this little code?"

Jack brightened immediately. "Oh, yeah. Hey, I shouldn't be interrupting you then, should I? You should be hard at work here, so I'm going to amscray, thataway."

Daniel laughed outright at that and then watched in surprise as Jack got up and started for the door. "Jack?"

"Work, Daniel. Bury that head of yours in work and save me from paperwork, okay? Save me from the boredom of counting supplies with Siler, from catching up on reports, from--"

"Jack, there are no reports to catch up on. You've been--"

"I was two months behind before our last mission," Jack said glumly.

"Oh. Yes. Well. Now we know why Hammond's grounded us." He wagged a finger at him. "All your fault, Jack. All your fault."

Walking out, Jack made little chatter motions with his hand.

Once his door was closed, Daniel frowned. Hammond had shut them down? Suddenly a coldness spread through him.

Janet.

He got up and hurried out.

"Daniel, what brings you down here?" Janet looked at the empty beds and shook her head. "No, no member of SG-1 snuck in injured while I wasn't looking."

"Ha-ha." Daniel looked around, grabbed Janet's arm, and led her into one of the private rooms. Once inside, he said, "Hammond grounded us, Janet. Jack's pretty upset, so please tell me you're not responsible? That I'm not responsible?"

She slipped her arm out from his under his hand and said, "You're not. General Hammond felt that it would be better for all of you to have some time doing, and I quote, 'mundane' things for a bit before going through the 'Gate again. I can't say that I disagree with him."

Penetrating blue eyes searched her face for any sign of a lie and, finding only honesty, Daniel nodded. "Okay. Sorry I jumped all over you."

Janet smiled. "Is that what you call jumping all over someone? My ex should have taken lessons from you. I might still be married."

Daniel grinned sheepishly and started to guide her out and back into the Infirmary. As they walked, Janet gave him a good look, and not happy with all that she was seeing, asked, "So how are you?"

Without breaking his stride, Daniel said, "Never better."

This time it was Janet who grabbed Daniel's arm. "Daniel, I don't see any weight back on that frame of yours. Now truth?"

Half-smile in place, Daniel said, "Really, I'm fine. And you know me and eating regularly. You shouldn't be surprised."

"Good point. But just to be sure, I want to see you one week from today and I'll expect an improvement, understood?"

He gave her a brilliant grin. "Naturally. Guess I'll need to pork out on chocolate malts and chocolate walnut cookies."

Five days later--

Daniel looked at his bedroom and sighed. This was the third time he'd rearranged it. In three weeks.

He stepped back, wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, and decided something cool was in order. He walked out and down the hall and into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottled water, he twisted the cap off, tossed it on to the counter and walked out his back door. Bare feet hitting the grass, he walked around the corner to his yard and stood for several minutes, in the sunshine, sipping his cold water. It was moments like these where the darkness fled - albeit momentarily. His yard was alive with color and the sun beat down on him, chasing the ugly cobwebs of memory away.

He could breathe.

But as with all good things, he had to go back inside. Maybe it was time for the piano again.

Saturday --

Daniel slammed the cover on piano down. Hard.

Damn it. No matter what he played, it ended up dark and moody and stifling.

He wiped at the sweat that covered his upper lip and then rubbed his whole face vigorously. This wasn't working. And the sun was going down fast. He jumped up and started pacing. Okay, he could work through this. He could.

He had to. What other choice did he have?

Ten hours later, waking up in bed, covered with sweat, his heart beating so rapidly he could barely track it, Daniel realized that "working through this" wasn't happening.

Sunday -

Janet turned the radio down when she heard the doorbell. She wiped her hands, dropped the dishcloth on the counter and hurried to answer the door.

"Daniel?"

"Hi." He stood on her porch looking very uncomfortable. "I... can I come in?"

"God, sorry. Of course." She stepped aside and he walked in and past her. He turned to face her as she shut the door.

"Is Cassie here?"

"No, she's at the mall with friends, why?"

He looked around, eyes darting all over the room, clearly nervous. In looking at him in the bright light of her living room, she realized that he'd probably lost a bit more weight. Damn.

"I... uhm... I wanted to ask you something."

Before he could say anything else, something in the kitchen pinged. Janet looked over her shoulder and then back at Daniel. "Hang on a minute, let me turn off the oven, all right?"

He nodded and gave her a bright smile. She hurried into the kitchen, switched it off, and on her way back - paused. The smile had been too bright, his blue eyes too dark. She moved to the doorway, wanting only to observe him a few moments. He was still standing in the same spot, his back to her, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. He was wearing a yellow polo shirt, the material stretched tightly across his shoulder blades. He looked utterly different than he did during the week, at the mountain.

It hit her then.

Daniel's... maleness.

It hit her intellectually, in a kind of "Oh, my God" way. It hit her below the belt.

Daniel had always been ... Daniel. When she'd first met him, he'd been this younger than young genius whose mind was beyond her comprehension. He'd also lost his wife and was hell bent on finding her again. Then he'd been a widower, but by that time, he was like the younger brother she'd never had. And now, she was seeing him in a whole different light.

Daniel Jackson was handsome - maybe even beautiful in his handsomeness, and one hundred percent male. Suddenly she could see the whole "XY" thing, could see how he'd appeal to even the Yenarans. And like his looks and his maleness, the feelings of what he'd been through hit her. It was one thing to know that he'd spent three months servicing soldiers while the other three members of his team were fairly comfortable, but now, to see him as the Yenarans must have seen him, to understand the lure in a strangely clinical manner, tore at her like nothing else. Hell, she'd seen the physical remains of what he'd been through - seen the scarring, and yet... damn it.

Now, watching him, she asked herself again, as she'd asked upon SG-1's return: What had it cost him?

What was it costing him now? How hard was it to keep it all bottled up inside while trying to deal with it from within his incredible mind and coming up against a wall of emotions?

Janet wiped her now sweaty palms down along her jean-clad legs, took a deep breath, and walked over to her friend.

"Sorry about that. A pie for dinner," she said apologetically.

"Oh, hey, I'm the intruder here." He sniffed the air and smiled. "Apple?"

She grinned. "Apple. Cassie's favorite."

He nodded knowingly. For a moment, they stood watching each other, the time awkward. Finally Daniel pulled one hand out of a pocket, shoved his glasses back up his nose, and said, "I'm thinking that I'm not dealing as well as I thought... maybe." He grinned at her, a very sheepish looking grin, before adding, "I was thinking... I might need to talk to someone ... maybe. But since it can't be anyone ... can't be... you know...."

Reacting from a gut level, Janet took his hand, led him into the kitchen, sat him down, and walked over to the coffee pot. She got down a mug, poured, added a touch of whiskey, then walked over to the table and set the steaming cup in front of him. She took a seat opposite him and waited.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Care to tell me what makes you think you're not handling things well?" She kept her voice low and tone even.

"Well, it strikes me as not dealing when you find yourself suddenly obsessive about cleaning, gardening, and rearranging your furniture, you know? And while neatness counts, it's not one of my real obsessions. And for me, once a piece of furniture is down, it's down for life. At least, that's how it's always been in the past. And then there's the whole lack of ... you know... need to... and I don't. You know?"

She digested the personality changes he was describing and held them back for a moment while she tackled the easier of his "symptoms" She smiled slightly as she said, "Daniel, I'd be very surprised if your libido were fully functioning after what you've been through. You're intelligent enough to know that too. The absence of desire is perfectly natural."

"I know. But... I have no desire of any kind. Not even the one-handed version, which given my work schedule, is kind of ... my norm." He ducked his head and hid his embarrassed grin while swirling the mug around between his hands. "But there's more."

Janet wasn't surprised. She nodded encouragingly and said, "I suspected as much. Go on."

"I'm not one for ... moods, you know? But since returning, well, I thought things would get better. But they're haven't. The whole cleaning and rearranging thing is actually an attempt to keep these odd moods away. I've cleaned my place more times than you could count, I sit at the piano for hours to avoid the moods, but they're there, on the edge, and growing darker every day." He glanced back up at her, his blue eyes shaded with what Janet could only describe as fear. "I can't let this affect my work or SG-1. I can't risk... them." He glanced back down at the coffee. "I need help, Janet, but it can't be... you know, the Air Force."

Janet looked him over carefully, while appearing to simply be considering his plight. She didn't miss the new circles under his eyes nor the pallor to his skin. She noted the slender fingers spinning the coffee mug and thought that his wrists looked too ... bony.

Staring at her friend, she couldn't help but wonder if anything would have been different if she'd not given in? If ....

MacKenzie.

The name almost yelled itself in her mind and she mentally shook her head. No, she realized, things would probably be worse. Considerably.

"Daniel, I have a friend, he's retired Air Force. A psychologist, lives in Boulder. Would you be willing to talk with him? It would be tricky because... he'd have to know more than we should tell him, but without all the information, he simply couldn't--"

"I know. I know." Suddenly Daniel got up, the coffee forgotten. "God, what have I done to you? Look at what I'm asking you to do now, not to mention the fact that top secret information would have to be shared. And for what? Hell, I should just resign. I should--"

Janet was up in a flash and by his side. "No, Daniel. That isn't the answer. Frank left the Air Force because he always put his patients first and wanted to continue to do so. But certain... rules ... made it increasingly difficult. But he's loyal and a good man. We can trust him implicitly. Let me call him, give him all the information, all right? And he can, in turn, call you if he agrees. Sound fair?"

Daniel turned hurting and questioning eyes on her and, for the first time in all the years she'd known him, she felt she was actually seeing him. No surface "I'm fine" crap, no "don't worry about me" crap, just... Daniel. Confused, afraid, vulnerable, and hurting like she'd never seen anyone hurt. He was about to answer her when she put her finger to his lips. "No, wait. Before you decide, consider this: something brought you here today, Daniel, and that's a good sign. You know you don't want to leave the SGC or SG-1 and you were willing to risk everything by coming over and asking for help to ensure that didn't happen. Again, a very good sign. But maybe of equal importance - I think you're worth it. And not only because of your value to the SGC, but because I care about you. You're my friend and this is what friends do." She waited a heartbeat while he digested her words, and as surprise brightened his eyes, she asked, "Will you let me call him?"

Daniel stared at her as if searching for something, and she prayed he could see only hope and love in her eyes. Finally he nodded, "Okay."

Four and a half weeks later -

Daniel crossed his legs and tried to get more comfortable.

"You could move to the couch, Daniel."

"No way. I swore that if I ever ended up - well, you know - that I wouldn't be caught dead lying down on the couch." He grinned and added, "This is fine, really."

"I believe you. But that," he indicated the leather sofa, "is my real couch and I was only suggesting you take it because it's more comfortable."

"Oh. Right." Feeling ridiculous, Daniel got up and moved toward the sofa. "Okay, this is much better," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

Hiding his own smile, Frank Letterer, late of the Air Force, said, "So how did the exercise I gave you work?"

"It didn't," Daniel said, voice flat.

"It rarely does, but I'm supposed to suggest it," Frank said, hoping to get a smile out of his patient. It worked.

"Very funny, Frank. Very funny."

He shrugged and said, "I do my best. Need to put my patients at ease, you know."

"I'm at ease, already. Ten visits in four weeks and I couldn't be more at ease."

Frank looked at Daniel from over the rim of his glasses. "Right. At ease. That's why you're chewing gum again?"

Daniel promptly swallowed the gum. "Sorry."

"Daniel, this is supposed to help you deal, not make things worse."

"I know. I know. And really, the dark moods are almost gone. I'm working hard and playing well with others. Can't ask for much more than that."

"And yet?"

"And yet... we're still Earth-bound, and I can't crack a code that I should have been able to do with my hands tied behind my back."

"Daniel, you know you're not the reason SG-1 is still grounded. You said yourself that Teal'c was held up and only rejoined you all last week, and that Major Carter needed more time with--"

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Then his whole expression and demeanor changed and Frank knew that Daniel was now somewhere else, somewhere other than this office for the reason he needed to be here.

"You know what I don't get?"

"What, Daniel?" Frank said carefully.

"I don't get how Sam could wait three weeks before seeing Pete."

Okay, that came out of left field. But since nothing with Daniel was ever simple, and everything had to do with everything else, Frank decided to go with it. "Care to explain?"

"Oh, she called him as soon as she was allowed, don't get me wrong," Daniel went on as if Frank had never said anything. "But to wait weeks before seeing him? Before letting him come? What's with that?"

"I don't know, what do you think is with it?"

Daniel blinked at him and suddenly grinned. "Well, what do you know, you finally sounded like a psychologist. Wonders never cease."

Frank just cocked his head.

"You know, the whole 'what do you think' thing you guys have going. We talk, you nod knowingly, say a few 'mmm's', and then follow up with the 'what do you think' crap."

"And I don't normally do that?"

"Nope. You talk almost as much as you try to make me talk."

"Until now, that is."

"Yeah, until now."

Frank smiled. "So answer the question. What do you think is up with what Major Carter did?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't know, it was just... odd. Not that she didn't look happy seeing him, because she did. I was in the parking lot when he drove in to pick her up for lunch."

Daniel's expression changed again as he appeared to be reliving that moment. A faint smile touched his lips and Frank enjoyed seeing it. The smile was real.

"She looked so young," Daniel said softly, "and relaxed. She moved into his arms so easily and it made me wonder because, of course, she's in love with...."

Daniel's voice trailed off as if realizing that he was about to say something he shouldn't. Frank leaned forward and said, "In love with?"

Now it was Daniel's turn to cock his head. "And this has to do with me ... how?"

Chuckling, Frank sat back and gave a small shake of his head. "And this, my dear audience, is Doctor Daniel Jackson in psychologist mode."

Daniel joined him the laugh, but Frank didn't miss the fact that the humor never reached Daniel's eyes. He thought it might be time to get to the crux of the matter.

"Okay, so the dark moods are lifting, which begs the question: how's your sex drive?"

When Daniel's face went grey and he didn't answer right away, Frank reached into his pocket and withdrew a stick of gum. "Here," he said as he offered it to Daniel.

"Thanks," Daniel mumbled as he took it, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

"Any security blanket in a storm, Daniel," Frank said with a gentle smile. He waited until Daniel seemed to visibly relax before asking, "You know what I'm wondering?"

"No, what?"

"I'm wondering when we're going to get to the heart of your real problem. Intellectually, you've accepted the decision you made on Segev, you know that and so do I. Even emotionally, there's an acceptance now that didn't exist several days ago. But something is still very much there, on the edge, and you know what it is, but refuse to give it a name."

Daniel plucked up a decorative pillow and managed to hug it to himself - without appearing to be doing so. Frank thought the man in front of him might be the only person who could have gotten away with such a motion -- pride intact.

"So?" he finally said.

"So? I'm probably not giving it a name because I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fine. Let's skip that for a moment and go back to Major Carter. Who do you think she's in love with if not the oh-so-patient Pete?"

"What, is this the gossip hour?"

"Who do you think she's in love with, Daniel?" Frank persisted, knowing somehow that it was significant to cracking Daniel's protective veneer.

Daniel made to get up as he said, "I think my time is up."

"I'll say when your time is up, Daniel. Who is she in love with?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Who is she in love with?"

"Jack. Okay? She's in love with Jack."

In dealing with the minds of men and women, Frank had learned over the years that for him, lightning could strike at the oddest of times, clarity hitting him over the head and telling him the secrets to his patients.

This was one of those moments.

For three weeks, he'd talked and listened to Daniel, having been immediately intrigued by Janet Fraiser's phone call four and half weeks ago. He'd found the man incredibly intelligent and with a past that would have destroyed the average individual. In order to save time, Janet had, with Daniel's permission, given him a copy of Daniel's medical file... with all its attending explanations and history. After reading it, Frank had expected... hell, even now he didn't know what he'd expected to walk into his home that Tuesday, four weeks ago. Certainly not the man sitting on his couch today.

Now, one very important clue to Daniel Jackson had just been revealed, and Frank wasn't sure how to use it to help his patient. He decided to keep it impersonal for now, to concentrate on the peripheral problem.

"So she looks happy with Pete, but she's in love with her commanding officer," Frank mused. "Tricky situation for a career Air Force officer like Major Carter. Do you think she's settling?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Yes. Er... actually, until that moment, yes, I thought so. But the way her eyes lit up and she almost ran to him... and yet, she'd seemed content to not see him for weeks. I mean, he must have been as worried as anyone else about the fact that we were MIA. And it had to have been a literal hell for him." He paused and cocked his head. "Know what the first thing Jack did when we returned?" He didn't wait for an answer. "He called his family in Chicago. Same with Teal'c. Er... okay, Teal'c didn't call anyone, but you know what I mean. And Sam called her brother Mark, and she, Jacob and Mark talked for over an hour. And yet, when she called Pete, it was actually the second day we'd been home."

Curious, Frank asked, "Who did you call first, Daniel?"

Blue eyes blinked uncomprehendingly at him. "Huh?"

"Who did you call first?"

"Me? No one. No one to call. Air Force took care of my home. Besides, Jack was kind of there, you know?"

Yes, Frank did know. But even now, he wondered if Daniel did.

"Your best friend," he said softly.

"Yeah, he is."

"Is he in love with Major Carter?"

Daniel looked down at his hands, which were now gripping the pillow and scrunching the material. "I... think... yeah. Yeah."

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Frank asked, voice low and gentle.

Daniel's head shot up and Frank found himself pinned by an angry blue gaze.

"What kind of question is that? The only thing that hurts is that they're wasting so much precious time. They love each other and yet...."

"And yet, neither appears willing to do what it would take for them to be together, isn't that what you were going to say?"

"Yeah," Daniel said quietly. "And I don't understand it. I'd do anything to be with... I mean, if two people love each other, and they face death as often as we do, how can they turn away from that love? They need it and they deserve it."

"There are regulations--"

"Regulations be damned. They mean nothing to Jack or Sam. Not where it counts, not considering what they do on an almost daily basis. For god's sake, they've saved the world countless times! You don't think they deserve to be together? Should be together?"

"You really want to know what I think, Daniel?"

"What?"

"I think that if Jack O'Neill loved Sam Carter and believed that she truly loved him - nothing could keep him from her. Nothing. No regulations, nothing. That's what I think." He stood up and stretched. "And now, our time for today is really and truly up."

"What? Wait, you can't just--"

"Daniel, you need to think about everything - and I mean everything - that we've talked about today. I'll see you on Thursday, all right?"

Stunned, Daniel got to his feet and dropped the pillow. "You know, if I weren't already crazy, you'd drive me there, Frank."

Laughing, Frank slapped him on the back and said, "You're not crazy, Daniel, trust me on that."

"Oh, believe me, I do. It's what keeps me going, Frank."

Thursday -

Jack looked hopefully over at Hammond. He held back the urge to rock forward on the ball of his feet. Finally, when Hammond said nothing, Jack said, "Sir?"

"I'm not convinced that sending SG-1 on a mission now is the best thing, but neither is there any reason not to send you. Especially since this is a simple follow-up mission." He glanced up at Jack and added, "So Colonel O'Neill, you and your team have a go."

Jack let out the breath he'd been holding, saluted smartly, and said, "Yes, sir."

Holding back his grin, Hammond added, "Briefing tomorrow, eight hundred hours. You'll ship out at thirteen hundred hours. Any questions?"

"No, General."

"Good." Hammond picked up his pen and started clicking it. "I'm curious, Jack. Has Doctor Jackson made any headway with the tower translation?"

"No, sir. But as I've explained, this is a long term task. But I have every confidence that Daniel will break the code."

"So do I, Colonel. So do I. However, has he seemed a bit distracted to you lately? Frankly, I'm worried about him."

Jack couldn't argue. He was worried too, and had been for weeks. Because Daniel had been easily distracted. No, distracted was the wrong word. It was more as if he'd lost the ability to concentrate, as if something were getting in the way.

"I wonder if you've considered the fact that while Major Carter had support from her father, brother and Detective Shanahan, and Teal'c had his family, and you, yours, Daniel... well, Daniel didn't. The family he was separated from for three months was you, Major Carter and Teal'c."

Suddenly a barbecue that never happened took on greater significance for Jack. Had the four of them even been together once since Teal'c's return? And before that, had he, Carter and Daniel gotten together? No to all of the above. In fact... had Sam even seen Daniel, other than in passing? Wait, there was that lunch... no, Sam was called away before Daniel arrived.

"Shit," he finally said.

"Appropriate Air Force officer response," Hammond commented dryly.

"My apologies, General. I just realized that... as difficult as this might be to believe, the four of us haven't been together once since--"

Hammond sat up. "Colonel? I find that hard to believe. You four are... you've always been more than a team, spent time together after hours, on the weekends."

"I know, I know. And it's not that Daniel and I haven't, because we have. Not as often as we should have in the last weeks, but there have been a couple of lunches, a Friday game night...."

His voice trailed off as he realized how long ago the Friday game night had taken place.

"Maybe it's time for a team get-together, Colonel," Hammond advised quietly. "You know how important teamwork is, especially on an SG team. I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

"No, General. And I agree with you, but at the same time, I find it difficult to believe that missing a few team functions would leave Daniel as distracted as we've both noticed."

"Is it possible that ... well, that he bonded with someone back on Segev? Could he have made a few friendships, perhaps? His life there was very different from yours."

"You mean, could he be missing the Yenarans?"

"Something like that."

Jack thought about that for a moment, and while it certainly could be possible... okay, given Daniel's penchant for making alien friends, it was more than possible, but surely he would have said something... right?

"Shit."

Hammond shook his head helplessly. "I take it that my idea has some merit?"

"It's... possible, General. But there's no solution. I hardly think we should flag down the Prometheus for a quick trip to--"

"No, I suspect the President would have something to say about that. Although the future may hold just such a journey."

"And I hope I'm busy, retired or dead when that particular future rolls around."

"Yes, well. In the meantime, perhaps a nice team gathering with some time devoted to finding out what we can do to help Doctor Jackson?"

Jack nodded and rose to his feet. "I'll take care of this right away, General, and thank you."

Walking toward his office, Jack decided that he'd better tackle Carter and Teal'c first in arranging the "get together". No sense in getting Daniel excited only to have Carter come up with some reason....

There couldn't be a reason. He turned left instead of right and headed for Daniel's office.

"Daniel?"

No Daniel. Office empty. How odd.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

He turned around to find himself facing Nyan. He grinned. "Nyan, long time no see. How's it hanging?"

Frowning as if he should know how to answer, but didn't, Nyan said almost reluctantly, "Nothing is hanging, Colonel O'Neill."

"Right. So, do you know where Daniel might be?"

"He had an appointment and left the mountain approximately an hour ago. He assured me he'd be back by three."

"An appointment? Daniel?"

Nyan simply nodded as he walked over to Daniel's table and dropped a folder into the "in-basket". "We are having a department meeting at three, so I am certain he will have returned by then."

"Ah, of course. Would you tell Daniel - no, never mind. I'll catch him after the meeting. Good seeing you, Nyan." With that, he walked out, but his mind was on the idea that Daniel had an appointment. It couldn't be anything like a dentist or doctor appointment as that was all handled here on base, and damn, he couldn't think of a single other reason for "an appointment."

Maybe Daniel had a date. A lunch date.

Daniel. Date.

Jack shivered.

"So I was thinking, this Saturday, barbecue at my place. Whatcha think?"

He was standing on the other side of Carter's worktable, watching his 2IC working on some doodad with Teal'c's assistance. At his words, they both looked up, Teal'c with a huge smile on his face - a smile that actually seemed - odd.

"Teal'c, don't do that."

"Do what, O'Neill?"

"Smile like ... that." He wiggled his finger at Teal'c's mouth.

Naturally that brought Teal'c's eyebrow up in a nice McDonald's arch kind of way. "I am simply showing my appreciation of the invitation, O'Neill."

"Riight. So Carter, you a go?"

"Sounds good to me, sir. Although dad is supposed to arrive sometime tomorrow."

"Hey, I have no problem with Jacob joining us. He's practically a member of the team, if the most schizoid member."

"Then we're definitely a go, sir."

"Great--"

He got no further as the sound of the klaxons interrupted him. When it was followed by the ever-popular "Unauthorized 'Gate activation", all three took off on the run.

//... but Doctor Jackson managed to quell their unrest and their invasion of the SGC was placed on hold. Permanent hold.//

Jack looked at the words he'd typed into his computer and grinned. Quell. Only he could use that word in this report. He was a real card, he was. All of which reminded him of the last several days, and how very ... different they'd been.

Thanks to Colonel Bryant, leader of SG-20, the negotiations between the Quell, a tribe SG-1 had befriended six months earlier, had come to a sudden, angry halt. Bryant had failed to follow Daniel's directions on how to speak with the Quell and ended up insulting them, their leader, Kotash, and his lovely, if somewhat rotund, daughter, Leko. Hence the unauthorized gate activity that had interrupted Jack and his invitation to his team for an at-home barbecue.

The invasion, which began on Friday, would have been humorous, if they hadn't had to work so hard not to hurt any of the Quell. And that had definitely become more difficult when the Quell took Daniel captive. Personally, Jack blamed Colonel Harold "Skip" Bryant. Not only had it been his foolishness that prompted the "invasion", but then he'd had the audacity to give the Quell actual permission to invade Earth. Oh, sure, he'd done the right thing when faced with Kotash politely requesting that he and his warriors be allowed to invade the SGC, knowing full well that it would be handled with the kid-glove care that such an invasion required, but still, Jack had aged yet another five years when Kotash had, again politely, requested that Daniel become his prisoner.

War and invasions, as practiced by the Quell, were a very polite affair.

Jack was damn certain that he could now boast at least another ten gray hairs, all thanks to that wonderful moment when Daniel had said, "Why, Kotash, I'd be honored to be your first prisoner. And perhaps you'll allow me the opportunity to undo the damage done by Colonel Bryant?"

For all Daniel's ease, becoming a prisoner of the Quell while they "occupied" the ramp of the 'Gate room was no simple feat. For the next several hours - ten to be exact - Daniel had been forced to stand at the top of the ramp, a sharp pointy thing at his throat, and both apologize and convince the Quell that their invasion was unnecessary and that the alliance with Earth and the "Taur'i" was a very valuable thing.

While Bryant and his team slept, Daniel talked. While shifts changed, Daniel talked. His voice never wavered, his gentle, apologetic smile never dimmed.

In the end, after a total of fifteen hours, the Quell announced that the invasion was over and that once again they were willing to enter into negotiations with Earth and the SGC.

Oh, joy.

Unfortunately, the new negotiations extended into -- and beyond -- the weekend, which meant the barbecue fell by the wayside. So had the planned talk with Daniel. But now, on Wednesday, life was finally returning to normal. The Quell had left earlier that morning, all negotiations finally sewn up, thanks to Daniel, who'd been sent home and told in no uncertain terms that he was not to set foot back in the SGC until Monday. It was a testament to his exhaustion that he hadn't so much as blinked. It was also proof of said exhaustion that he'd been driven home.

But damn, Jack was proud of him. Daniel had done in just a few days what the SGC and SG-20 hadn't been able to complete in months. And while the treaty with the Quell wouldn't result in weapons for Earth, it would result in incredible agricultural advancements. Nothing to sneeze at in a world where over one third of its total population was starving.

He finished up the last of his report, hit print and, once the pages had been spun out of his printer, gathered them up and placed them neatly inside the report cover. After securing it inside an envelope for General Hammond, he looked at his watch and figured there was time to catch up with Carter. Teal'c was already a go for the barbecue on Saturday, which worked out well as it would give Daniel a couple of days of rest before partying. Jack smiled at that. He was tempted to call his friend, but knew that he'd just be getting home and hopefully climbing into bed. He'd call him tomorrow. Late tomorrow. For now, he'd phone down to Carter's lab and get her confirmed, along with Jacob, who'd finally been allowed to 'Gate in just a mere hour ago.

Talk about a worried father.

Although, now that Jack thought about it, Jacob had almost immediately asked about Daniel. He'd cracked a joke about the SGC entertaining invading armies even while his eyes had been searching out Jack's archaeologist.

Okay, enough on Jacob. Time to give Carter a call. He picked up the phone and punched in her lab number. When Siler picked up, Jack knew Carter was gone for the day. Once Siler confirmed that she'd left - with her father - Jack thanked him and hung up.

So he'd confirm tomorrow.

He powered off his computer, straightened his desk up a bit, and headed out. Once he'd changed into his civvies, he made his way to the elevator. Riding up, he immediately flashed on Carter in the 'Gate room, answering Jacob's query about Daniel.

"He's fine, Dad."

Just like that.

Daniel had already been sent home, voice barely there and looking all the world like a man who'd died but no one had told him yet, but Carter simply took her father's arm and marched out of the 'Gate room.

Jack exited the final elevator and headed out of the mountain, but he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings as he pondered the weeks since their return. He felt as though Carter's behavior where Daniel was concerned was symptomatic of something deeply wrong - somewhere. He personally felt as though he were on the edge of a cliff and if just the right breeze came along, he'd be pushed off. And he wanted the breeze because there was something there, just beyond his reach and he knew it was important, and damn it, he really needed that breeze because maybe a short flight would put whatever the hell it was - within his grasp.

Daniel let the water pound down on him as he tried to will his body to relax. Eyes closed, he held still and tried to drift....

Only to be brought up short of his goal. He groaned low in his throat and tried another tack. A bit of shower-like meditation, maybe.

Nope. Not working.

Daniel could feel the anger that he'd managed to tamp down during the negotiations with the Quell, rising; something it had been doing since leaving the mountain.

Sluggish but powerful, like lava, it moved up, ready to explode forth....

So time to try another something else. Time to imagine that he was not alone in the shower.

He shook his arms loose and rotated his head from side to side. All right, he had the heat, the steam and a good imagination.

Daniel closed his eyes again and conjured up his companion. Taller by two inches, broader in the shoulders, Daniel could almost feel the man behind him. He smiled dreamily as he imagined a tan arm encircling his waist and pulling him back against a chest lightly covered with hair. If Daniel tried real hard, he could almost feel -- Jack's --breath against his ear and an exciting hardness pressed against him.

Daniel groaned in misery because it was a hardness he himself was lacking. He opened his eyes and glanced down.

Nothing, damn it. Still nothing.

The frustration, coupled with the ever-building anger, reached the surface, and while it didn't overflow, it did bring him around to face the showerhead, fist raised to strike out at the innocent tiled wall. He slammed his hand into it; once, twice, a third time.

"DAMN IT TO HELL!"

His words bounced and echoed within the stall and with short, choppy moves, he turned off the water, grabbed his robe and, after slipping it on and tying it, stepped out and plucked up another towel for his hair.

Rubbing harshly at his wet head, he strode into the living room, pausing halfway to the couch. His body was literally thrumming with the anger. The towel dropped from his hand and his fingers clenched, the nails digging into his palms.

He needed... he needed....

Daniel hurried over to the phone and punched in Frank's number. Thanks to the Quell "invasion" he'd missed two appointments, and, intellectually, he recognized the fact that he needed Frank. Needed a session. He also knew that driving to Boulder in his condition was impossible.

//Hello?//

Clearing his throat and hoping he had enough voice left for this, he said, "Frank? It's me, Daniel."

//Hey, everything all right?//

"Yeah, we had a bit of a problem at the mountain and I'm only just now home."

//Ah, got you. You sound like you have a cold or something?//

"No, I've just had to do a lot of talking recently. I'm fine."

//So then you want to reschedule a few appointments?//

Daniel walked over to his lounge chair and sat down as he said, "Actually, do you have some time to talk now? I'd drive to you, but I'd be a danger to myself and others on the road. I've been pretty busy and haven't had much sleep in the last few days."

//I have plenty of time, Daniel. Retired, remember? So tell me what's up?//

Gritting his teeth, Daniel ground out, "I can tell you what still isn't."

//And I can understand your frustration, but that's not why you really called, is it?//

Closing his eyes, Daniel muttered tightly, "Anger."

//Ah.//

"And... hatred. I've ... been chewing Zantac like it was candy."

//So frustration, anger and hatred?//

"That about covers it. For the last few days I've had to be the perfect diplomat and talk myself into a coma while the entire time I was so angry I could have knocked out a wall. Which, by the way, I almost did in my bathroom a short time ago."

//And when you want to punch out the walls, who are you seeing? Yourself, or--?//

Daniel stiffened at the question, but answered, "How the hell do I know?"

//But you do, Daniel. You do. Now think. Who were you trying to punch out a few minutes ago?//

Daniel sank back into the chair, exhaustion finally taking its toll. "I don't think I actually pictured anyone," he said, his voice rough.

//Now Daniel, we agreed the last time we met that you'd stop with the denial crap and that no matter what I asked, you'd be one hundred percent honest. Now who were you seeing?//

"I... I ... it was kind of... and maybe--"

//Who. Did. You. See?//

"I guess it was kind of a... Yenaran version of ... me."

//I guess it was kind of an ... Yenaran version of ... me.//

Frank Letterer sat down.

He'd really hoped to hear that the inevitable anger would be directed where it belonged: with those who'd hurt Daniel. At least some of his anger was going where it belonged.

Choosing his words very carefully, he said, "Daniel, why do you think you might be angry with yourself?"

//Aw, come on, Frank. Can't you tell me?//

He smiled at the tired humor in Daniel's voice; a good sign. "Gosh, no, Daniel, I can't. I only make seventy-five bucks an hour; therefore, answering my questions must fall to you."

//Ha-ha.//

"So with that in mind," he went on, "why do you think you're angry at yourself?"

//I don't know.//

The reply sounded so lost, so empty, alarm bells went off in Frank's head.

"Daniel, can I call you right back? My portable phone is losing juice and I'm afraid it'll cut out on us."

//Sure, sure.//

"Okay, I'll call you right back."

He hung up, hurried over to his closet, took his jacket down, slipped into it, grabbed his keys and cell phone, and even as he rushed to his car, he dialed Daniel's number.

//He-loo, I'm not here right now, but if you leave me your password, I may call you back. Better yet, leave me your pin number.//

Sliding into the front seat, Frank shook his head in amusement. "You're incorrigible, Daniel."

//That's refreshing. I'm usually saying that to Jack.//

Frank backed out of the driveway and headed toward Colorado Springs as he talked.

Daniel drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and decided he was thirsty. He got up, phone to ear, and walked into the kitchen. He was fully aware that the anger was still there, only now it was balled up in the pit of his stomach.

//...so I think you do know why you're angry with yourself. Now I'm going to cheat and break a valuable psychologist rule - and just so you'll know how important it is, well, Hippocrates created a second oath just for this rule.//

Phone lodged tightly between his cheek and shoulder, Daniel said, "Oooh, I'm all a-shiver here, Frank," as he got, and opened, a water out of the fridge. He ambled over to the table and sat down.

//As well you should be. If it gets out that I broke this most sacred rule-cum-oath, I'll be drummed out of the psych corp.//

"You're retired, Frank."

//My reputation will be ruined.//

"Okay, okay, mum's the word."

//Thank you. Okay, here goes... if it had been Jack who'd ended up as a Servi-1--//

"Servi-1XY. Please don't leave out that most auspicious designation."

//Servi-1XY, should he have been angry at himself once home again?//

Daniel felt the room close in on him and almost jumped to his feet. In a few steps, he was outside and in his backyard. Fingers gripping the phone tightly, he said, "It would never have happened to Jack."

//You don't know that, Daniel. Answer the question.//

"Of course not. Besides, Jack would have figured out a way to escape... or something."

//Oh, really? At the expense of his team?//

"He'd have found a way to get us all out of there."

//Did he, Daniel?//

Daniel frowned even as he watched a bee buzzing near by. "Did he what?"

//Did Colonel O'Neill find a way out for all of you?//

Still frowning, Daniel nodded.

//Daniel?//

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, he did. He made a bargain with the Yenarans. And you already know this."

//And that bargain would have been in place even if he'd been the one to be sent to Segev. So I ask again: did he get you all out of there?//

Slowly Daniel, robe and all, sat down on the grass in the middle of his lawn. He was feeling distinctly sick to his stomach. "I don't know what you mean, Frank."

//Yes, you do.//

"I hate it when you do that. So you're saying, in the typical psycho-babble way, that Jack would be angry with himself because he'd have failed to get us home, and so I shouldn't be angry with myself because I failed to get us home? That makes no sense."

//No doubt. Especially since that's not the conclusion I was trying, not so subtly, to get you to.//

Daniel rubbed his forehead - hard. "I'm confused, Frank. Should a good psychologist confuse his patients?"

//Gee, let me try something even more subtle, okay? Try this one. Would you have been angry at Jack if he'd been the one to go to Segev?//

"Of course not. Why on earth would I get angry at him--"

//How 'bout Sam? Would you have been angry with her?//

"Frank, I wouldn't have been angry at anyone. For God's sake, it's not like they'd have had a choice in the matter."

//Wow, really? No choice? That's ... absolutely stunning. I'm amazed. So how is that while they would have no choice - you did?//

"Are you crazy? I had no choice."

//Could you repeat that, Daniel?//

"Oh, fer crying out... I had no choice, they would have no... uhm... I... didn't ...."

//Yes, Daniel? You didn't... what?//

Daniel tilted his head back and stared up at the blue sky. "I ... didn't have... a ... choice."

//Gee, do I hear the sound of a slot machine hitting a huge payout?//

"Frank, you need to get out more."

"I think there's an area we haven't yet covered, Daniel."

//Frank, I don't think I can ... think... anymore today.//

Since Daniel's revelation, they'd talked for over an hour and a half and had covered a great deal of territory. Unfortunately, Frank could tell from Daniel's voice that while he'd released himself from any blame, there was definitely something still bothering him. Something important and something that could still keep him from a healthy recovery.

"Where are you, Daniel? In your home, where exactly are you?"

//Uhm, I'm outside. Backyard. On the lawn. Just... sitting.//

That news really bothered him. Over an hour ago he'd learned that Daniel had called him straight out of the shower. "What are you wearing?"

//What, this call just took a left turn toward the Twilight Zone?//

"Daniel?"

//My robe. My blue robe, in case it's important. Dark blue with my initial on the left side. A present from Cassie.//

Frank chuckled and then went serious as he ordered, "So when you get inside, change into something warm and get some coffee going. I'll be there by the time the coffee's hot."

//Excuse me?//

"I've been on the road almost our entire time, Daniel."

//Oh.//

"Go."

//Right. But ... you're staying on the line, right?//

"Yep. Talk about anything, just do it while going inside and changing."

//I can do that.//

And he did. Frank listened to him talk about his backyard, his garden, the new deck he was planning, and the odd translation he was having so much difficulty with: the tower writings from Segev. By the time Frank turned down Daniel's street, he knew more than he wanted to know about peonies. Smiling, he pulled into the driveway, parked behind Daniel's Jeep, and climbed out of his car.

"Daniel?"

//... but Mrs. Trent, my next door neighbor, says that sweet peas would be bet--huh?//

"I'm here. You could open the front door for me."

//Oh. Sure. I can do that.//

Frank grinned.

"So."

Frank cocked his head. "So what?"

"So. You're here. You're actually here."

They were in Daniel's kitchen, hot coffee in front of both of them. Daniel was wearing a faded blue polo shirt and ancient blue jeans. He was also barefoot. His hair, no longer damp, was sticking straight up in several places and Frank had the urge to brush it down. He bit back the urge. Mothering Daniel right now would not be the best course of action.

Instead, he nodded and said, "I'm here."

Head down, and absently stirring his coffee, Daniel said, "So what made you jump in your car and head for Colorado Springs?"

"You mean what in your voice made me drive two hours to get here?"

"Uhm, yeah. That."

"You sounded ... lost, Daniel. You still do, in spite of the fact that you seem to have made some semblance of peace with what happened."

"I'm not lost. I'm okay, actually. The anger is ... gone."

"Liar."

Daniel looked at him then. "No, really, it's gone. No knot of it in my stomach. All gone."

"It's just moved, Daniel. Take a quiet moment and find it, okay? I think it's very important we deal with it today."

"That sounds ... weird. You want me to find my anger?"

Frank didn't answer, he just continued to look at Daniel.

"All right, all right." Daniel shifted in his chair, took a quick sip of coffee, closed his eyes, and grew still and silent.

After several minutes, troubled blue eyes were staring at Frank, and Daniel had an almost accusatory look on his face.

"I take it you found the anger?"

"Damn it, yes. But I don't get it. I know I had no choice and that there was no escape, so where is this anger coming from?"

"You tell me, Daniel."

Daniel gave a small snort. "Typical. If I could tell you, I would. But I can't because I don't know. But I'm betting you do, so why not break another sacrosanct rule?"

"And just tell you? Okay, why not." He shrugged amicably. "You're still angry with yourself because in spite of knowing you had no choice, you think something you'd been hoping for is now a lost cause. You think you're different now and that the difference will matter to some people."

"We can hardly deny that I am different now. Who wouldn't be? And of course that difference will matter."

"Does it matter to Janet? Or Jacob Carter?"

"Probably. In a way. Janet will never look at me the same way again. I'll never be someone ... I don't know... strong? I'll be a victim to her from now on. Same with Jacob, I suppose."

"I'm thinking it's time for the reversal game again, Daniel. Let's turn the tables, shall we? So it was Janet who was sent to Segev. You're all home now. Are you viewing her any differently than before? Do you still trust her to take care of all of you? Do you still care about her?"

"That's a stupid comparison. Of course I do, to all of it. BUT she would be different and I'd be worried about her and I'd try to help. Eventually, because she's strong, she'd learn to deal with it."

"And then how would you view her?"

"The same as now."

"Then why can't you see the same thing happening with you? Why can't you see that none of your friends will see you as a victim, or feel less about you?"

"Because I'm not Janet? Because I'm the civilian and, hello, a guy? Because I'm the one who always screws up anyway?"

"Ah, so this is about you and not them. This is how you feel about yourself, not about how they feel. Isn't that right?"

Daniel got up suddenly and started pacing. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked back and forth in the small kitchen. "No, no, you're wrong. I don't feel any particular way about me at all, other than as others see me." He paused. "Okay, that came out wrong. What I mean is... I know how others see me and--"

"Daniel, what's the worst thing that could happen to you now?"

Puzzled, Daniel turned to face him. "What?"

"What's the worst thing that could happen to you now? Really. The very worst."

Slowly Daniel sat down again. Hands folded on the table top, he said softly, "That... Jack would find out."

"Jack. Have you noticed how often his name comes up in our sessions?"

"No."

"I have. Why is Jack finding out the worst thing that could happen to you, Daniel?"

"I... don't know. It just is. Wait, because of how bad he'd feel."

"Ah, so it would be the worst thing for him to find out because he'd feel, what, guilty?"

"Probably. Yes."

"We're skirting around the elephant again, Daniel. I think it's time you just came out and said it. Once and for all."

Daniel's body stilled again, and with eyes on his hands, Daniel said, "So you've figured it out."

"It wasn't hard."

"Do I still need to say it then?"

"I think it's important, yes."

Daniel sighed heavily. "Okay, I'm in love with Jack. And what happened on Segev effectively wiped out any chance I had of ever... of there ever being anything... not that there would be, but it was always a hope, kind of. In the back of my mind. And now I have to face it. The truth. That no matter what, there was never any future for us, except as friends, and what happened on Segev makes it a moot point, and if he found out, I could lose what little I have with him."

Frank got up, walked the two steps to the coffeemaker, picked up the pot, poured for the both of them and, after putting the pot back, asked, "Do you have any whiskey?"

"Pantry next to the back door. Top shelf." Daniel snorted. "Jack Daniels."

"Good choice." He got the bottle down and gave each of their cups a good shot of the alcohol before putting it away again. Once back in his seat, he pushed Daniel's cup toward him. "Go on, drink it. You need it."

Daniel nodded but ignored the mug. "So now I've said it."

"You sure have. The elephant is now visible."

"And wearing dress blues. I've always liked Jack in dress blues."

"Men in uniform."

"You don't really seem surprised, Frank."

"Please. Psychologist here, remember?"

"So what do you think?"

"I think you're allowing the little things to worry you too much."

One finely arched eyebrow lifted. "Little things?"

Frank grinned. "You said it yourself; you and Jack have no future. You told me not so long ago that he was in love with Major Carter. So why worry?"

"Why indeed." Daniel smirked. "The ever hopeful heart."

Frank nodded at the coffee. "Drink some of that, Daniel."

Daniel did as instructed and they sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Finally Daniel yawned and Frank got up, took the now empty mugs and set them in the sink. Turning, he said, "All right, up and at 'em. Nap time, Daniel."

"God, you're worse than Jack."

Frank gave him a small pat on the back. "Come on."

Daniel rose slowly and, together, they walked carefully into his bedroom. Frank, taking all the care of a father toward a son, helped Daniel undress down to his shorts and then got him into bed. He pulled the shades down and when he turned back to the bed, Daniel's eyes were already closed, his breathing deep and even. He walked over to the side of the bed and gazed down on his charge for a couple of minutes before heading out to the living room.

Once there, he sat down in a chair.

The worst of it was over. It would take more sessions, no doubt, but they'd managed to get over the largest hump in the road to Daniel's recovery today. There was still anger - self-directed - but most of it had been successfully dampened if not stamped out altogether.

Looking around the living room, at the furnishings that represented his patient, he had to acknowledge that Daniel might be one of the strongest men he'd ever known. Which was why he was still so concerned about him.

Daniel closed the front door and walked into the kitchen. Their breakfast dishes were in the sink so he set about the task of washing them. It was Friday and he still couldn't get over how long he'd slept, and, while he felt better, his voice was worse. The good news was that Frank felt that Daniel could go down to one session a week.

After washing up, he wandered back to the living room and sat down. It was early afternoon and warm, hence he was torn between working in his yard for a few hours or just sitting back, relaxed, and read. The tingling in his body was telling him that he needed to keep moving so he supposed the garden was going to win. But not just yet. For now, he just wanted to sit quietly.

Jack thought it was time to firm up the weekend barbecue plan, so after checking in at Teal'c's room - and finding him not there - he headed to Carter's lab, his sense of déjà vu in full swing.

He wasn't surprised to find Teal'c working with Carter again, or finding Jacob overseeing the work. He didn't have a clue what they were working on, which was no surprise, but he did wonder why - suddenly - Carter always needed Teal'c.

"Hey, kids," he called out as he walked in, trying to sound as jovial as possible.

"Sir."

"O'Neill."

"Jack."

He walked up to the table and peered over Teal'c's shoulder. "Do I want to know what you guys are doing?"

"Probably not, sir," Carter said as she tweaked something on what looked suspiciously like a mother board - and no, he had no intention of telling anyone that he knew what a mother board looked like.

"So, you guys up for the team barbecue that had to be postponed due to a small invasion?"

"I am indeed up for it, O'Neill. However, will DanielJackson be sufficiently recovered by this weekend? Should we not wait another week?"

"Teal'c, you make it sound as though Daniel had been injured or something. He's fine," Carter said as she picked up another tool and did some more tweaking.

"I do not believe DanielJackson is at all 'fine', as you put it, Major Carter. I believe he is very much not fine. I do not believe he has been fine for quite some time."

Jack was too interested in Carter's reaction to reply himself. He watched her as she paused and looked sideways at Teal'c.

"Teal'c, I think you're imagining things."

"I do not believe that I am. We were separated from DanielJackson for three months and since our return, we have seen very little of him. I do not--"

She straightened up, her expression one of impatience and frustration. "Oh, for heaven's sake, not this again. Of the four of us, Daniel was probably the most happy, in his element and doing what he loved. I doubt sincerely that he missed us at all, and I'd wager that if you think something is wrong, it's that Daniel wishes he were back on Segev right now."

Jack was so shocked by her words, he found himself ... speechless. Evidently Teal'c was feeling the same. Not so with Jacob, whose face flushed a dull red.

"Sam, that's enough," he said, his voice low, tone sharp.

"Oh, Dad, not you too. What is with you three? Just because Daniel was separated doesn't mean there were any problems. For God's sake, he left us for an entire year. You don't think he was busy on Segev? Buried in work he loves? Trust me, he never once gave us a thought, and I for one... okay, I resent it." She turned to Jack. "You worried constantly about him and do you think he returned the worry? No. He was too busy--"

Jacob's hand shot out, his fingers clamping down on his daughter's forearm. "Sam, stop now before you say something you'll really regret. You don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" she challenged.

"No," Jacob hissed, "you don't." Still holding her arm, he motioned with his other hand and said, "All three of you, up top, now."

Jack found himself loping along behind Teal'c, Carter and Jacob. He didn't know what was going on, but every instinct told him it was going to be bad.

Once up top and outside, Jacob led them all several yards away from the exit and the guards. They ended up under a stand of trees rising tall in the cool, bright afternoon.

"Dad, what's going on?" Carter asked, her voice tinged with an edge of anger.

"I'll tell you what's going on; I'm about to go back on my word and divulge something I swore that I wouldn't and I'll probably regret this to my dying day, but...."

Jacob paused, looked at all three of them and his expression softened. "Now that we're up here, I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing, let alone if I have the right--"

"Jacob, if you think for one minute you can back out now, you're crazy," Jack said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have no intention of backing out, but that doesn't negate the feeling that I'm violating something sacred. I just hope that it makes a difference." He looked hard at all three of them and added, "Although, deep down, all of you have some inkling that Segev wasn't the happy place Daniel led you all to believe."

Frowning, Jack took a step closer. "Jacob?"

"Come on, Jack. You're a smart man." He looked at his daughter. "Sammy? You can't honestly tell me that you think for one minute that Daniel really spent his time researching the history of the Yenar? Use that megawatt brain of yours, honey. Think back to what you observed in your three months. Did you see anyone reading? Watching anything on the vid other than news? Did you see ... couples? Children? Art? Music? Anything that would tell you--"

"Jacob," Jack said softly, "get to the point."

"Sure, why not. Drop the bomb in one fell swoop. Okay, here goes. The Yenar were a people of war. Their entire society was based on fighting the enemy. There was no time for art, music, love, relationships, or anything else. Only war. But soldiers have needs and since a culture based on survival knows zip about love, the Yenar made sure those needs were taken care of by the Servi--"

"Dad, the Servi were the food servers, the--"

"Those were Servi-2's, Sam. Servi-3's took care of the environment and... Servi-1's... took care of the sexual needs of the Mercs and Teks. Daniel was removed from SG-1 because he wasn't labeled a soldier, but because of his looks, he was placed into the category of Servi-1."

Jacob paused - waited.

Jack tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Jacob. He tilted his head in the opposite direction. He was pretty certain he was in the middle of a black hole. And having faced one before, he could categorically state that yes, he was in the middle of a black hole.

He felt an intense pressure pulling at his heart as his mind accepted - slowly accepted - Jacob's words and the meaning behind them. He thought it was altogether possible that his heart might implode, the pressure was so damn tight.

"Dad... what are you saying?" Carter asked, her face going a shade more pale than seemingly possible.

"You know, Sammy. You know," he said, his voice full of an incredible sadness.

Jack managed to finally focus his gaze and bring himself back from the brink of the black hole. He glanced over at Teal'c and noted, in an off-handed way, that his friend had gone an odd shade of gray. He vaguely wondered what color his face was at the moment.

It was amazing how the sun continued to shine down on them, to make its way through the branches of the evergreens, to splinter off into shining streaks of brightness and create a halo around Sam's head, backlight Jacob and bounce off of Teal'c's tattoo. Jack thought the sun should be in hiding. Seemed appropriate. Melodramatic, but appropriate.

Daniel shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the blue, cloudless sky. He had two hours of good daylight left, which meant he had a good chance of finishing the weeding in the last planter. Then all he had to do was water. He took off his tee shirt and wiped his face with it before dropping it. He went back to work.

Jack wasn't sure how he happened to be driving down the mountain to Daniel's house with Teal'c next to him and Carter and Jacob in the car behind him. He remembered the rest of Jacob's words, the history of Daniel on Segev, and he vaguely recalled an argument between Carter and her father, one that resulted in Carter actually crying. Was that why he wasn't doing this alone? Probably. No. Maybe.

No.

They were doing this because three-fourths of the team needed to see the remaining member. Because SG-1 needed to ... what... what?

What did SG-1 need to do that Jack couldn't do better alone?

And he needed to be alone with Daniel.

On the other hand, since he wasn't - alone - he had to make sure this was done right. He'd seen Jacob's face when he'd realized that he couldn't stop them from going to Daniel's. He understood better than anyone that the reason only two people - until now - had known the truth was that Daniel had been protecting them. SG-1.

They had to do this right.

They had to.

Jack coasted to a stop in front of Daniel's home. He put the truck into park and shut off the engine. For a moment, he and Teal'c simply stared at the front of the house. Finally Teal'c spoke.

"We are doing the right thing, O'Neill. We are more than a team, we are a family. We are his only family. It is time he learned what family can do for him, and what he means to us."

Without taking his eyes from the front door, Jack said, "That's the first hopeful and intelligent thing anyone has said since Jacob told us the truth."

Carter's car pulled in behind him and he realized it was time to confront Daniel.

No. Confront was the wrong word. It was time to demonstrate family to Daniel.

He and Teal'c got out and met Carter and Jacob on the lawn. Together, all four approached the front door. Jack knocked, coughed, and knocked again. When there seemed to be no response, Teal'c said, "His car is here, O'Neill."

"I noticed. Takes up most of the driveway." He rubbed at his chin and finally said, "Backyard. Let's go."

They walked across the driveway to the back gate, which was propped open by a brick. Jack pushed against the white wood and slowly moved in, the others behind him. Jacob took the gate and slowly let it close against the brick before turning back to face the yard.

Jack moved around the corner, Teal'c and Sam right behind him. Once he was even with the patio, he froze, Teal'c and Sam having no choice but to come to an abrupt halt.

Daniel was watering the lawn. He was wearing a ragged pair of blue jeans and nothing else. The sun, on its descent, lent the yard an early summer-sunset kind of glow, but Jack was focused on the man. A man completely unaware of them as he watered, moving his arm back and forth lazily, the water spraying the planter, forming small rainbows as the sun caught the liquid in its downward path. Completely unaware of four pairs of eyes as they took in his bare back and broad shoulders.

And the crisscross of thin white lines that covered the bare back and broad shoulders.

Scars that had healed, but were there, for anyone to see - if only they looked.

The scars of his time on Segev.

Scars that went deep. Soul deep.

They were all frozen until Sam gasped. A gasp that had to have been heard by Daniel.

Daniel was almost in a trance, the very act of watering a soothing balm to his soul. He was almost done and later, after a shower, maybe some Mozart. He smiled to himself. Suddenly, from behind him, a sound broke his concentration causing him to pause. After a moment, he slowly turned... to find Jack, Sam and Teal'c in his backyard. He frowned, looked at their faces, at the devastation written on them, and for just a moment thought something terrible had happened to someone - maybe Hammond, or ... Janet, and he took a tentative step toward them, his mouth opening, ready to ask who, until he spotted Jacob.

The truth, like the sharpest arrow, slammed into him and time seemed to stall as the hose fell soundlessly from his fingers. He glanced down at the water now spouting upward, but instead of stopping it by picking up the hose again, he slowly looked over at his friends.

They knew everything.

Before he could say or do anything, Sam was walking toward him, face flushed, eyes bright with unshed tears. The next thing he knew, her arms were around him and she'd buried her face in his neck. For a moment, he was too stunned to move, to react, but slowly, as her muffled, "Danny, Danny, Danny," reached him, as the import of her choice of "Danny" reached him, he brought his own arms up and wrapped her safely inside them. Then they were hugging and holding tightly and he was so damn grateful that she wasn't asking for forgiveness, or smothering him with pity. His eyes were tightly closed so he didn't see Jack or Teal'c approach, but he sure as hell felt their arms as they both enfolded him and Sam in their embrace.

Jacob watched Daniel freeze, turn, spot them. He could see the surprise and puzzlement on Daniel's face, could tell that the younger man was wondering what horrible something had befallen the SGC. He also spotted the precise moment when Daniel understood why they were there. He observed the hose falling from nerveless fingers, and watched with pride as his daughter moved toward Daniel with no desire other than to hold and be held by her friend.

When Jack and Teal'c joined Daniel and Sam, when all four were one, Jacob breathed easy for the first time since breaking Daniel's confidence. He didn't have a clue what would happen next - but he suspected, if Jack's behavior since learning the truth about Segev was any indication, his daughter would soon be reevaluating her life and all that she assumed it held.

"No, Jack, leave them alone for now. There's a great deal my daughter has to say to Daniel, and now is as good a time as any for it to be said."

Jack was staring out the back bay window, his gaze unwavering as he said, "I disagree. Now is not the time for Carter to be confessing her sins to Daniel."

Following Jack's line of sight, Jacob watched his daughter and Daniel as they sat on the patio at the redwood table, heads bent and almost touching as they talked softly. "Jack, I think this is important to both of them, all confessions aside."

Considering the fact that Daniel was outside with Carter, Jack realized he didn't have a choice. He could only wait - his turn.

"... so much anger and I never knew it, Daniel. Everything that's happened since your return, every reaction I've experienced has been tainted by that anger." Sam turned tortured eyes to her friend. "Maybe if I understood - not that I have any right to such an understanding - but you... it seemed as though you chose this great path instead of us. Instead of staying on the ground where the dirty fighting was, and, yes, I know that's unfair, and selfish, and--"

"Sam, stop."

The anguish in his voice stopped her. "Daniel, God, I've done it again--"

"No. No, you haven't." He looked down at his hands and tried to marshal his thoughts, the difficulty being explaining without giving himself away. So... most of the truth. "Sam, I was so damned tired of failing, and equally tired of battling not the bad guys, but the good guys. What Oma offered was ... a way out and a world beyond anything I could imagine. Bottom line became the fact that there seemed to be no reason to stay. I can't explain it any better than that."

"If Oma allowed you to return to that life - would you? Now?"

"Sam, that's unrealistic. I'm not dying--"

"Daniel, if she showed up right now and offered you a second chance, would you take it?"

Curious, Daniel asked, "Why does it matter to you what my answer would be?"

"Because you're a member of SG-1? You're my friend? My best friend? Because... because...."

Her voice trailed off as her eyes filled with tears. "God, I never knew. I swear, I never knew...."

"Sam?"

Eyes focused on a spot over his head, Sam said, "I was ... jealous. I am jealous. I wasn't just hurt, I was jealous."

"So next time you take the radiation hit, okay?"

With a sense of wonder, Sam said, "It wouldn't matter if I did - I realize that now. It wasn't about dying - it was about understanding - and you always do." Suddenly she laughed. "Lord, all these years and I never got it." She made quote marks in the air. "Think outside the box, Sammy." She laughed again. "Always priding myself on my ability to do that, but, damn, I never really did. Oh, I looked outside a box, but never the box. But you, you not only work outside the box, you search every inch of space outside the box, hell, outside of every fucking box in the universe."

Daniel looked askance. "Uhm, I've never... you said... wow."

Her expression changed, the light in her eyes suddenly shadowed. "But there's more."

Daniel wondered if he could take any more. On the other hand, he realized as he looked at her, at her distant expression, that she was talking to herself, about herself, that she was seeing deep inside.

This wasn't about him at all. Thank God. He let Sam know his willingness to listen and was surprised when her cheeks pinked. Concerned, he reached over and took her hand. "Sam?"

"I was jealous of the friendship between you and Colonel O'Neill." Her voice was flat - expressionless.

Fuck. What was he supposed to say now? For god's sake, Jack loved her. Not him, her.

All right, let's go with that - sort of.

"But Sam - Jack's in love with you. How could any friendship threaten that?"

She tore her eyes from their entwined fingers and looked up at him. "No, Daniel. He isn't. But for a long time, I thought he was. Or that I was, or that we... that there was something there."

"And yet you never acted on it," he said gently.

"Regs."

"Always so important to SG-1." His smile was slight.

"All right - my career," she admitted.

"Sam, if you don't mind my saying - if you loved Jack O'Neill - really loved him with your entire soul, do you think your career would matter?"

She bowed her head and whispered, "No."

They were silent for several minutes and Daniel found himself rubbing the top of Sam's hand with his thumb in an effort to comfort and soothe her. Finally she smiled a bit and said, "I've been a fool, Daniel, but I think I'm back on track now. I'm really sorry."

"No apologies required, Sam. Nothing to be sorry about."

She looked at him in wonder. "You just don't know, do you? The whole time we were trying to teach the Yenar how to fight dirty, Colonel O'Neill never thought of anything but getting you back with us and I never gave you a thought. I didn't want to think about you, or to see the truth in front of my eyes, and I'm not just talking about the Yenar."

Looking infinitely sad, Daniel said quietly, "This is just what I didn't want."

"I know, Daniel, but we're family and when we screw up, we need to talk about it, feel guilty about it, and ask for forgiveness. We love each other and that's what we owe each other when we screw up."

"No one screwed up, Sam. No. One. Screwed. Up."

"You don't have it exactly right. No one is at fault for the fact that we were separated and you ended up on Segev, doing what... doing what--"

"It's okay, Sam."

She waved him off, sniffled a bit, and said, "But I am at fault for what I thought, failed to think, and failed to see. And you need to let me be at fault, and wallow, and just... just... be. And then you need to forgive me even though you don't think there's anything to forgive because, well, because we love each other and it's what a good brother would do for his sometimes less than intelligent sister."

"Ah. I see. A good brother."

She tightened her grip on his hand. "Yes, Daniel. A good brother."

Smiling tenderly, Daniel said, "You go right on ahead and wallow then."

Grinning back at him, she said, "Thank you, Daniel."

Jacob allowed himself to relax. Daniel and Sam were laughing now, and if he was any judge of laughter, it was real and very much needed. Now all that had to happen was for him to get a few minutes with Daniel in order to offer up his abject apology and his neck for the chopping block. He glanced over at Jack, who was still standing next to the window, watching his two teammates. The man's back was stiff, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Jacob gave a small shake of his head.

Could any man be more obvious?

Could any man be more in love?

He seriously doubted it. Especially since the man in question was in major denial.

Daniel held up his hand. "Don't, Jacob."

"You're not going to let me--"

"No, I'm not. I don't know what happened to cause you to spill the proverbial beans, but it's done, over. Our heart, it does go on."

Jacob frowned. "Did you just make fun of me?"

Blue eyes wide, Daniel said, "Moi? Please."

"I get the message."

"Now that's refreshing. Carters seem to have a problem in that area."

"Another dig. Okay, okay, so let's go back inside."

"You mean I actually to get to go inside my home?"

"Laughing here, Daniel."

They both grinned and turned to head inside, but Jack stepped out onto the patio first.

"Daniel, do you have a few?"

Jacob patted him on the back. "Guess you're not going inside just yet, Danny boy. I'm thinking we should have taken numbers."

"Teal'c is number four," Jack said drolly.

"On that note, I think I'll go inside and see if I can interest Teal'c and Sammy in a game of Tiddlywinks." He looked over his shoulder at Daniel. "You do have Tiddlywinks, don't you, Daniel?"

"In the drawer in the dining room," Daniel said, eyes on Jack, lips twitching.

"Right," Jacob said as he walked inside, shutting the sliding door behind him.

Jack rolled back on his heels, stuffed his hands into his pockets and then rolled forward on the balls of his feet. Daniel had the ridiculous feeling that if Jack could have scuffed the earth, he would have. He decided to put the man out of his misery.

"Jack, if you're going to unload your guilt and ask for my forgiveness, I may have to shoot myself - and just when I was improving."

Jack looked up sharply, noticed the glimmer of humor in Daniel's eyes, and shuffled his feet a bit. He then scuffed the toe of his shoe against the woven mat on the patio.

"Jack, damn it, I'm serious. I'm up to here in guilt and forgiveness because everyone says that's what families do, okay? You have nothing to feel guilty about and there's nothing for me to forgive."

"I know there's nothing to feel guilty about, Daniel. What happened to you...."

Jack swallowed the bile that suddenly rose up and threatened to overwhelm him. He coughed, shifted his position, and said, "There is a sense of letting you down, but I know I couldn't have stopped anything. I know it here." He tapped his temple.

"But not here?" Daniel asked as he touched his chest on the left side.

"No, not there. Not where it counts. I'm SG-1's commanding officer and I'm responsible for what happens to us - to all of us."

Daniel sat down at the table. He brushed some dust off the surface and said, "Funny, I just washed the whole patio down and the table is dirty."

Uncertain what that meant, Jack chose to slide in next to Daniel on the bench. "Outside is like that. Wash one minute, dusty the next. That's why it's outside," he said wisely.

"And people say you're dumb."

"Who says that? Point me at 'em, I'll kill 'em."

"I believe we should leave," Teal'c said from behind Jacob and Sam, who were standing at the window and watching Jack and Daniel.

"You're probably right," Jacob agreed without moving.

"I believe we should leave ... now," Teal'c reiterated.

"I suppose so," Sam said as she tore her gaze from the two men. "Dad?"

Turning away from the window, Jacob nodded. "Let's go. How about Italian?"

"You are buying?" Teal'c asked as he followed the two Carters out of the house.

"Tokr'a aren't known for their ability to purchase things here on Earth, Teal'c."

"Wait," Sam said. "Does that mean I'm buying?"

Neither man answered as the door to Daniel's home was securely shut.

"Actually, Jack, no one says it, in spite of your feeble attempts at proving it."

"Feeble? I take umbrage at that. I work hard at putting on a dumb face."

"Says the man who said 'umbrage'," Daniel observed.

"It's a good word."

"Right. So are we going to tap dance around things or get down to it?"

Shoulder now just touching Daniel's, Jack said, "Tap dancing would be good - for a while longer anyway. Just until I get my rhythm going."

"Okay, fine. Tap dancing it is. So who do you think was better - Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire?"

"Donald O'Connor," Jack said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"You win that one. Okay, Eleanor Powell or--"

"Eleanor Powell over anyone, including Donald O'Connor."

Daniel smiled and shook his head fondly. "Only we could be sitting here discussing the merits of tap dancers."

"True. I think I'll change the subject though." He turned his head and looked hard at Daniel. "You're seeing someone about... Segev."

"I am."

"And you're... okay?"

"I'm getting there."

The sun had set and the only light now was that from Daniel's living room. A soft light that lent the patio a soft, golden glow. A dog barked a few houses down and children could be heard laughing out front as they ran home, presumably for dinner. Jack reached out and took Daniel's right hand. He just held it even as Daniel stiffened at the touch. After a few moments, Jack slipped his fingers between Daniel's. He heard Daniel catch his breath, but he simply continued to hold on.

"I should probably mention at this point," Daniel said after clearing his throat, "that Air Force colonels don't usually sit like this with members of their team. Male members."

"I do."

"Okay. I was just saying."

"Of course, there needs to be a high degree of affection in order for an Air Force colonel to do this. A very high degree of affection, in fact."

Looking at their entwined fingers, Daniel asked, his voice strangely subdued, "How much affection?"

"All there is to feel - and more," Jack said almost breathlessly.

Slowly Daniel pulled his hand away. "Your timing leaves a great deal to be desired, Jack." He got up and headed inside.

Jack had no choice but to follow.

Once in, Daniel said as he walked toward his room, "I need to shower and change. If you want, there are some take-out menus in the drawer next to the fridge."

Daniel stripped, dumped his dirty clothes in the hamper, and realized that he'd left his tee shirt out on the lawn. He shrugged, turned on the water, and when it was the right temperature, he stepped in.

Once in the safety of his shower stall, with the water beating down on him, he could think. Breathe.

Too much - too soon.

And everything he'd ever wanted -- at a time when he could do nothing about it.

Life sucked sometimes. And lemonade stands were for kids with parents.

Jack wandered around Daniel's home, nerves on fire. He couldn't sit, couldn't stop moving. He'd ordered Chinese, checked Daniel's pantry and found a bottle of wine, which was now on the counter breathing. And he couldn't stop moving.

He did have lousy timing. And yet - what better time to tell Daniel that he was loved. So very loved. He heard the thrum of the shower go off and he moved quickly to the couch and sat down. He didn't want to look as nervous as he felt when Daniel returned.

Okay, he admitted it. He'd hoped that after Jack's strange declaration, his libido might have made a return engagement.

It hadn't. His dick remained stubbornly uninterested in Daniel's fantasies or Jack's declaration. Stubborn, that was its problem.

And now he had to face Jack and, while he'd briefly considered lying to the man and saying "So nice you love me, and tough luck I don't reciprocate," he'd quickly tossed that notion aside. Today had taught him a valuable lesson about family and friends and love and guilt and helping each other. He owed Jack the truth - all of it. After that, well, it was anyone's guess.

He toweled-dried his hair, slipped into a pair of well-worn sweats and a faded yellow and very soft tee shirt. Barefoot, he headed for the living room.

"I ordered Chinese," Jack said as Daniel walked in.

"Sounds good." Daniel sat down in the large, comfortable chair next to the couch.

"And there's a bottle of wine breathing in the kitchen," Jack added, suddenly very self-conscious.

"Also sounds good. How much time do we have before dinner arrives?"

"Another thirty or so."

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "So then - time to talk a bit." He brushed at small tufts of material on his sweat pants and said, "I've been in love with you for a while now, but you need to know a few things before we go any further--"

"You love me?"

Daniel looked up. "Yes."

Jack found himself grinning like a fool. "Sweet."

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves, Jack. You see - well, as we discussed earlier, sort of, I've been seeing someone about ... you know," he waved his hand aimlessly in the air, "and while I've come to terms with a great deal of what happened, there's still the small matter of my ... uhm, er... libido. Which has apparently gone on an extended vacation. No cards, no letters, no phone calls. No idea when, or if, it will return. So I'm thinking we go on as friends, and we just kind of--"

"No, Daniel. No."

"... leave any relationship... what?"

"No. N.O."

Face scrunching up, Daniel said, "No what? No to continuing our friendship?"

"No to just maintaining our friendship. I want to be with you, Daniel. And if that means we do nothing more than share our hours, meals, and bed, well, that's enough. If hugging and hand-holding is okay, well, that would be great. If kissing is something you're comfortable with, cool. If not, equally cool. Whatever you need, want - well, that's what I need and want."

Daniel blinked several times behind his glasses. "Oh."

Jack got up and took the two steps necessary to bring him to Daniel. He ran a gentle finger along Daniel's jaw. "I love you, Daniel. And now that I know that, spending any time away from you would be impossible. Being only friends," he shook his head, "impossible. Although, we're lucky enough to have that as our foundation, aren't we?"

Daniel smiled up at the man. "Yeah, Jack, we are. Very lucky."

They ate outside on the patio, candles their illumination. Jack dug into his almond duck while Daniel ate his walnut chicken. Between them sat a plate of Chinese ribs and a container of shrimp fried rice. Daniel had a glass of wine with his dinner while Jack had, in the end, opted for a beer. The silence as they ate was full of unspoken words of comfort, love, and friendship. They shared the rice, ribs and secret smiles.

When both men were done, the table cleared, coffee cups next to each of them, and tearing into their fortune cookies, Jack glanced up and asked, "So nary a twitch, eh?"

"Nope, not even a twitch."

"But you'll tell me should you get a--"

"Twitch?"

"Yeah, that."

Grinning by candlelight, Daniel said, "You'll be the first to know after me, Jack."

"Sweet."

The next several weeks proved to Daniel beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had a family ... and Jack. But the weeks also proved, to a certain extent, that he'd been right too in some of his fears if they knew. He was treated differently now. But not in ways he'd expected. He wasn't coddled and there were no long, sympathetic looks. Instead, SG-1 slowly grew back to the team they'd once been.

As for Jack, their relationship was one of camaraderie, affection and love. They alternated between his home and Jack's, and while there were still no twitches, Jack was happy with what they had.

Too bad Daniel wasn't.

His libido was alive and well in his mind, damn it. Frank kept telling him it would come back to his body - in time, but lately, well, lately, it was getting more and more difficult to watch Jack doing anything.

Damn, that man was sexy.

Jack reached out for Daniel but his arms came up empty. He cracked open one eye and confirmed that the other half of the too-small bed was, indeed, Daniel-less. He sat up, ran a hand through his short hair, and listened.

Ah. Kitchen. He sniffed appreciatively. "Pancakes." Sleepy grin in place, he threw back the covers and got out of bed. Yawning and scratching, he walked into the kitchen.

"Morn-ing," he said with another yawn.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Pancakes and sausage, coming right up."

"Smelled them. Smells good."

Laughing, Daniel flipped three pancakes onto a plate, added a couple of sausages, and slid the breakfast in front of Jack, who happily sniffed again. "Heaven. Sheer heaven."

Daniel, not yet ready to eat, leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, content to watch Jack. His eyes took in the Air Force tee shirt stretched across Jack's chest, the handsome pillow-creased face, and the salt and pepper hair, most of which was still standing on end. Jack was chewing deliriously, eyes closed and humming softly.

Daniel's eyes suddenly opened wide in surprise. He blinked several times, glanced down, glanced back up and said, "Twitch."

Jack rubbed his mouth with a napkin and said, "Huh?"

"Twitch," Daniel urged.

Jack looked around him and back at Daniel. "What the fuck?"

"EXACTLY!"

With that, Daniel moved to the table, took Jack's arm, pulled him up, and started to lead him to the bedroom.

"Daniel," Jack whined, "I'm still eating here--"

"Jack - TWITCH!"

"... and those pancakes - what? Did you just say... twitch?"

Rolling his eyes, Daniel tugged harder.

"Well, I'll be damned," Jack said.

"Oh, wow."

Daniel let out a breath and said, "Yeah."

Jack was spread out on the bed, chest heaving, sweat trickling down his face and glistening on his chest. Daniel was next to him and in the same condition. Both were cooling down and trying to catch their breaths.

"Daniel, when you get a twitch, you really get a twitch," Jack finally said. He rolled over onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. Reaching out, he rested his other hand on Daniel's stomach. "Yep, you're one hell of a twitcher."

Smiling, Daniel said, "I figure what I lacked in finesse, I made up for in enthusiasm."

"Oh, yeah. You were very enthusiastic." He started to rub gentle circles on the cooling flesh as he studied his best friend in the entire world - and now life partner - and finally asked, "You ... okay?"

Turning his head to look at Jack, Daniel smiled - brilliantly. "I'm very okay, Jack. Perspective back, libido healthy, mind clear."

"For now," Jack said knowingly.

"Well, yeah. For now."

"You'll need to continue to see - who are you seeing, by the way?"

"His name is Frank Letterer. Retired Air Force."

Jack nodded. "Good. Good." He moved his hand from Daniel's stomach to his hair, and started to fiddle with spiked strands as he added, "Maybe... maybe I could see him, go with you once or twice?"

Daniel took Jack's busy hand and held it within his own. Eyes dark, he said, "I'm not sure I'm ready for you to know... everything ... yet."

"Wouldn't you feel better if ... and I find that I need to know, Daniel. I can surmise, imagine, worry, and God knows--"

"Ssh." Daniel placed a finger over Jack's lips.

For several minutes, they lay together, in the same position, eyes locked on each other's faces. Finally, Daniel took a deep breath - and began to tell Jack about Segev.

The plate clattered on the table and Daniel quickly rescued it and brought it closer. He picked up his fork and cut into a piece of pancake. He avoided looking at the angry man at the counter. As it turned out, it had been Jack who'd not been ready to hear about Segev.

Daniel ate his late breakfast and sipped his coffee while covertly watching Jack as he tidied up -- with a lot of noise, muttering, and clanging of dishware. Anger was in every line of his body as he moved about the room and Daniel simply shook his head. When his good mixing bowl almost took a header off the counter, he decided it was time to do something. He reached over, picked up the phone, which was resting on the morning paper, and dialed Frank.

"Morning, Frank. Yes, I'm fine. Uhm, there have been a few rather startling changes, one having to do with my earlier libido issue - that's correct, it's no longer an issue - and yes, thank you. What? Oh, the other item is that I told Jack everything and he seems to have developed some anger. Next Tuesday?" He glanced up at Jack, who'd finally come to rest and was now leaning against the counter and breathing hard. "Jack? Next Tuesday?"

"We don't head out for P3X-448 until Thursday, so yeah," he ducked his head, "Tuesday would be ... good."

"Frank? Tuesday would be fine. Three?" At a nod from Jack, Daniel said, "Three is fine. See you then."

Daniel put the phone down, pushed back his chair and moved to stand in front of Jack. After a moment, he simply took him into his arms. He held him tightly and smiled when Jack's arms wound around his waist. Jack nuzzled his neck and murmured, "I thought I could handle it, Daniel."

"You didn't break anything--"

"Came close," Jack muttered.

"Close only counts in horseshoes and miraculous escapes from system lords."

"Good point. Why is this so hard?"

Daniel cupped the back of Jack's head and rested his lips against the older man's temple. "Because it's called life?"

"Wow, another good point. You're just full of good points today, aren't you?"

Smiling, Daniel nodded. "Yep."

"So, we see this shrink of yours on Tuesday, eh?"

"There are always two victims in situations like this, so yep, we see my 'shrink' on Tuesday."

"But between now and then, you ... twitch, right?"

Laughing, Daniel nodded again. "I twitch."

"Are you... twitching ... now?"

"No, but given the right incentive, I could be persuaded...."

Jack lifted his head and leaned back enough to see Daniel's face. Grinning, he said, "I've always been an excellent persuader."

"That you have."

This time it was Jack who did the leading. He had a desperate need to connect in every possible way to the man whose hand he currently held.

They spent the day in bed, alternating between sleeping, "twitching" -- as Jack now called their lovemaking -- eating, and talking. At sunset, Daniel left a napping Jack to head to his piano. The need to make music was, this time, entrenched in joy, not pain.

Sitting down at the beautiful instrument, he decided on DeBussey's Claire de Lune. He'd opened the front door, all the shades and shutters, and the summer evening filled the house as he began to play. He let the music convey his mood - mellow - and his contentment. He knew, intellectually, that it wasn't over, that there'd be tough times ahead before Segev was nothing more than a memory, but he was armed now. He had a family he trusted, and he had Jack.

The last of the sun danced over the shiny surface of the piano while his fingers danced over the keys. The sky turned shades of gold and mauve, the colors transforming the room into a pink-tinged golden palace.

In the bedroom, Jack rolled over on his back, awake and listening. Grateful that he'd kept Daniel's piano after his ascension, he climbed out of bed, pulled on jeans and a shirt, and walked into the living room. Daniel glanced up, smiled, and with a nod of his head, indicated that Jack should join him on the bench. Grinning, Jack did exactly that.

The music swirled around them while outside, Daniel's neighbors left their homes to sit on their porches and enjoy the music and the end of another summer day. Others began their evening walk, slowing as they approached the blue house from which the beautiful sounds flowed forth. Children slowed their play and quieted.

Across town, a truck pulled up in front of a house and Pete Shanahan got out. Flowers in hand, he walked slowly - and uncertainly - up the walkway. He'd just made it to the porch when the door was opened and Sam stood there, smiling. He searched her face, stared into her eyes -- and seeing everything he'd hoped to see -- walked up, flowers held out.

On a planet thousands of light years away, Teal'c lay under the stars, Ishta in his arms. In spite of the fact that he only had one more day with her, his mind was on Earth - and his two friends. He smiled in the darkness. SG-1 was now stronger than it had ever been and he truly believed it was because O'Neill was where he'd been meant to be. And with the person to whom he belonged. And DanielJackson had finally discovered all that he'd been missing.

They all had.

Family, friendship, trust, honor, and ... love.

SG-1.

The End

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