Crown Infernal

"Shut Up, Daniel!"

Jack tells Daniel to "shut up" once too often.
Daniel decides to give him The Silent Treatment.

Grateful thanks to my delightful beta-reader,
and plot bunny provider, Evelyn Duncan. 8-)

This is a tag for - well, any episode where Jack, owing to the vagaries of the scriptwriters, falls waaay short of the professional level of courtesy due to
his archaeologist, to the point where it really, really, really gets on one's tits...

WARNINGS: a modicum of bad language, plus it's almost gen. but not quite.


Colonel O'Neill was coming under increasing and relentless pressure to produce concrete benefits in the form of advanced weaponry from his team's oh-so-expensive trips through the 'Gate. It was not there just for their jolly jaunts to other planets, even if some members of the team thought it was. Which was grossly unfair given the number of times they'd all put their lives on the line to save good old planet Earth. Clearly you were only as good as your latest near-death exploit, however much General Hammond had tried to sugar-coat the pill. Again.

This set O'Neill up to share the pain, especially with the one who always seemed to be working against him these days. In calmer moments, his logical side knew that Daniel who, in a military set-up was certain to come across as something of a pacifist, was merely looking for the best solution, same as he was. Trouble was, they all too often appeared to be approaching that desirable goal from entirely different - and conflicting - directions.


A new day. A new planet. A new mission. Same objectives. Same old. Same old. But this time, things really looked like they were coming together. The people were keen to deal and willing to share, so pretty much a first then. However...

Daniel had a bad feeling about the whole set-up. It wasn't anything he could immediately put his finger on. It was more like opening the 'fridge door and detecting the faint odor which suggested that, somewhere out of sight, something was going off. Then again, if something seems too good to be true, it very probably is. Yet Jack was all set to bite their hands off regardless.

As a result, Daniel kept asking endless probing questions, trying to find out what it was that he was missing. These questions appeared to unsettle their new friends, adding to his suspicions and irritating the hell out of O'Neill. The latter snapped.

"Next time I tell you to shut up, Jackson, just obey my order," he growled.

"I didn't hear you tell me to shut up," Daniel sniped back, patently annoyed.

"Too subtle for ya?"

"Well, for once, yes. Would you please hear me out?"

But Jack didn't want to know - didn't want anything to derail his precious treaty.

"Colonel O'Neill, do we have an agreement?" The leader was clearly as keen to push the treaty through as Jack was.

"We do."


Daniel was well pissed off. Jack playing the dumb schmuck was one thing; actually being a dumb schmuck was something else entirely.

"Daniel - shut the fuck up! Is that clear enough?"

Daniel was stunned. Beyond stunned, and prey to a whole raft of emotions. First was humiliation. To be told off in front of both potential allies and colleagues, as if he'd been acting the class clown in sixth grade, felt like being hit by a barrelful of icy water.

Next came fury - cold fury. How dared Jack humiliate him thus? He was an intelligent, highly educated man who was just trying to do his job in circumstances made more difficult, unnecessarily more difficult, by the man he was trying to help.

A biting sense of injustice - no, impropriety - joined in. If Jack had a problem with the way he was doing his job, then the professional way of dealing with it would have been to take Daniel away somewhere private and discuss it like rational and civilized human beings. Or not. But privately either way.

Worst of all was a raw feeling of deep, dark hurt that ran bone deep. He and Jack were supposed to be friends - close friends. Though, looking back, that friendship had been wearing thin for weeks now.

No. Not weeks. Months. At the time, Daniel had accepted Jack's reassurances regarding his comment that there wasn't much of a foundation to their friendship. He'd only said it because of the role he'd had to play and the fear that his house was bugged. Or so he'd said later. It now occurred to Daniel that maybe it was the apology itself which had been the lie. Well, if that was the way Jack wanted it...

When it turned out that Daniel's suspicions had been fully justified, Jack apologised again, quite humbly in fact, but this time, Daniel definitely wasn't buying it.

The debriefing was spectacularly short. Daniel left it to the rest of the team to explain just how and why such a promising venture had rapidly gone to hell.

"Do you have anything to add, Dr. Jackson?" General Hammond asked.

"No sir." The words were uttered with clipped, military precision.

Jack nearly suffered whiplash as his head shot round in Daniel's direction. Daniel always had something to contribute at practically every debriefing. Even General Hammond looked surprised - looked as if he was wondering whether to call a medical team stat. Daniel only just managed to maintain his poker face.

"Very well S.G.-1, you are dismissed."

Daniel was first out of the briefing room like a sprinter off the blocks. Jack would have tried to catch him, but Hammond wanted a word with him about another matter. When he escaped, Daniel had already left the mountain. Jack was a little worried, the worry fuelled by guilt. But he had apologized and Daniel wasn't one to harbor a grudge. Well, not for long.

He had made an exception in the case of Apophis, but Daniel wouldn't put Jack in the same category as him, surely. Jack chuckled at the thought, but there was just the teensiest niggling doubt at the back of his mind.

Nah... This was Daniel.


O'Neill went in to work as usual. He had a load of paperwork to get through, which had driven the previous day's events from his mind. Until he went to round up Daniel for lunch.

Daniel was at his desk, his head buried in a book. He didn't look up when Jack walked in after a perfunctory knock on the frame of the open door, just continued to pore over the dusty tome.

"Hey, Daniel, time for lunch," Jack said with a cheerful grin. "Gotta keep your strength up!"

Daniel still didn't look up. He carefully turned a page, his eyes sliding up to the first line on the next page as if Jack didn't exist.

"You gone deaf or something, Rock Boy?" Jack joked.

Daniel said nothing.

Jack was beginning to feel a little annoyed. "I can make it an order if you like."

Still no response.

"Oh-kay then, I order you to stop work and come for lunch."

Daniel picked up a leather book mark, set it in place, closed the book - LeTour du Monde en 80 Jours by Jules Verne - with a sharp snap and stood up.

"Finally!" Jack turned on his heel and headed for the commissary. Daniel took his book - a novel and therefore not actual work - and followed Jack. Followed him in the food line, followed him to an empty table, unloaded his tray, including the book, and sat down. Opened the book. Picked up his fork and tucked into the beef stew. Or whatever was masquerading as beef stew this week.

Jack sighed. "And I suppose you brought the book because I didn't tell ya to leave it behind?"

No response. Daniel ate. Daniel read:
Avec une extrême rapidité, ce train passa dans l'État d'Iowa par Council-Bluffs, Des Moines, et par Rock-Island il entrait dans l'Illinois.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud, look at me."

Obediently, Daniel looked up. Looked his C.O. squarely in the eye, his face an expressionless mask. Then he returned his attention to his food and his book.

Jack mentally slapped himself upside the head. "Ok. I get it. You're still pissed about yesterday. I apologized. I apologize again. What do you want me to do? Grovel?"

But that wasn't the point of the exercise and Jack was going to have to work it out all by himself.

Sam and Teal'c showed up a few minutes later and came to join their team-mates. Daniel was already clearing his empty dishes.

"Hi, Daniel," Sam smiled while Teal'c nodded a greeting.

"Hi, Sam, Teal'c," Daniel responded with his biggest, fondest smile. "Sorry, gotta go. Translations to do."

"Oh, ok," Sam said while Jack shot Daniel a mystified look.

The smile disappeared completely. Clearly it was going to take Jack a while to work it out.

Jack's first response to the problem was to ignore it. Daniel couldn't keep up the silent treatment forever. Jack would just wait until Daniel got over himself.


By lunchtime, he was beginning to admit that it didn't look like that would be happening any time soon. Worse, it was affecting Carter and Teal'c. They could see that something was 'up' between O'Neill and Daniel, and could also hazard a pretty accurate guess as to the cause. They were also clearly upset by the arctic atmosphere between the two men. Maybe if they were more actively involved?

"Carter, would you ask Daniel to pass the salt. Please?"

Sam looked warily from one to the other. "Daniel— " she began tentatively.

But Daniel wasn't having any part in that juvenile game. He leaned towards her with wide smile. "Sam? How's your new electron collider weapon coming on? Do I have the term right?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jack growled, standing abruptly and stalking out of the commissary.

Sam sighed. "Daniel, what's going on between you two?"

"I'm sorry, Sam, but that's between Jack and me."

"I know you were upset, but the Colonel did apologize didn't he?"

Daniel gave a sad little smile and shook his head. "This is not up for discussion."

"But— "

"No, Sam. Jack has to work it out for himself. Otherwise, it would just be like... like giving him the answer paper as he goes into the exam hall."

She grimaced. "Well, I just hope he passes," she muttered unhappily.

"Yeah. Me too," Daniel said, his voice soft and sad.

Sam gave him a wan smile as he stood up to leave.

After Daniel had gone, the remaining team-mates exchanged glum looks.

Teal'c laid a comforting hand on Sam's. "I will confront O'Neill and demand that he terminate whatever is this animosity between the two of them."

"Be careful."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "It would be difficult to make the situation any worse."

There was no answer to that.

"Hey, Teal'c. What can I do for you?"

"You can make your peace with Daniel Jackson. I do not ask what is the problem, but it is harming the proper functioning of S.G.-1. It is also distressing Major Carter."

Jack gave a world-weary sigh. "Tell me how, Teal'c, tell me how? 'Cos I'm out of ideas. I know I was out of order on our last mission and I've freely admitted that. I've apologized too - several times."

He held out his hands in a silent plea for help.

"Has Daniel Jackson not accepted your apology. O'Neill?"

"I don't know. He won't talk to me. If I knew what he wanted, I'd do it like a shot. Because this cold silent treatment is really getting to me. It - dammit, it hurts, Teal'c, and for once I don't know what to do about it."

"I do not know either."

"It's not like he's being insubordinate - less so that normal if anything. He does what I tell him - to the letter - but otherwise, he's just not interacting with me on any level. I delivered a written apology yesterday. He just read it and shredded it in front of me then went back to work."

"I see."

"You do?" Jack smiled in anticipation of the sharing of wisdom.

"No, I do not."

"Oh great! The only one who knows is Daniel and he's... not... talking... That's it! I think I've got it! Thanks T!"

He was out of the door before Teal'c could react, and heading for the elevator, intent on having it out with Daniel. As he ascended, it occurred to him that the S.G.C. might not be the best place to do this.

Plan B then.

Daniel arrived home feeling mildly dissatisfied. He knew that Jack - Mr. Insensitive - would have a little difficulty working out what was going on, but he hadn't expected him to take quite so long. Well, he had a weekend to work on it, then they had another mission on Monday. And if Jack hadn't worked it out by then... Well Daniel was not going to ease up. Jack would just have to find a way round the lack of communication. At least he couldn't accuse Daniel of not following orders.

He locked his vehicle and headed for the main door. Something caught his eye. He looked up and gasped. There was a light on his apartment, and it wasn't Mrs. Harrison's day for cleaning...

His first thought was to call Jack. Why was that? he wondered.

However, as that would entail conversation, it was out of the question. Sam? Hammond? The cops? Nope. He was on his own, which was fine so long as the burglar(s) wasn't/weren't armed...

He took the stairs. Didn't want the clanky old elevator alerting the intruder(s). No one else - burglar escaping with swag? - used the elevator either. When he reached his apartment, he found the door very slightly ajar. There was no sign of a forced entry though. A lock-picker then.

Daniel waited outside for a minute or two, listening, but heard nothing. He entered at a crouch, but still heard and saw nothing. Another sense took over. Smell. What sort of a burglar broke in and cooked himself a meal? Next came a ping from the microwave oven.

Advancing into his apartment, he noticed that the table had place settings for two. Light dawned. Either there were two - very quiet - burglars, or... Jack was trying to buy his way back into Daniel's favor. The smart money was on the latter. He appreciated the gesture but Jack was going to have to do better than that.

Quietly, Daniel went into the bathroom, stripped off and had a shower. He wondered what Jack would think about being thus bypassed.

A short time later, he wandered back into the living room, toweling his hair dry and wearing nothing but another - very skimpy - towel, tied loosely round his hips.


Daniel looked out from under the first towel straight into Jack's eyes, and was surprised at the look - the hungry look - he saw there.

"You - er - you might like to put on something a little more... erm, a little less revealing."

Daniel looked down at what he was now revealing. Interesting reaction, given it wasn't something Jack hadn't seen before. Freudian slip of the towel? If so, this evening could be... interesting. He bent down to pick up that skimpy towel which had somehow untied itself, and enjoyed the faint squeaking noise Jack made.

He didn't look round but could still feel Jack's eyes following his pert li'l butt as he headed for his bedroom. Well, well, well. He'd always thought Jack was straight. Maybe not. Was his gaydar on the fritz then? Of course, in Uncle Sam's homophobic D.A.D.T. military, any gay guy had to be ve-ry cautious. Jack's possible sexual orientation still didn't let him off the hook as regards Daniel's plan though. Afterwards? Well, time would tell.

When Daniel reappeared, he was wearing tight black Levis that looked like he'd been poured into them and a black silk shirt with the top two buttons undone. He leaned casually against the wall and watched Jack pouring the wine.

It took a moment for Jack to register Daniel's presence. When he did, he sucked in his breath sharply. And carried on pouring... Under the circumstances, Daniel could only look significantly at the overflowing glass. Finally, Jack clued in.

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud, Daniel!" Jack exclaimed, hastily mopping up. "You might've warned me!"

He might have, but this was more fun.

The meal was excellent. And eaten in almost total silence. At the end of it, Jack collected the dishes, took them into the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher while the coffee brewed. Quite the little house-husband, Daniel thought. He could get used to this, but... Not in this world, sadly.

Jack returned with two mugs of coffee, put them on the table, then sat down again.

"Okay, I finally got it," he began. "It's because I told you to shut up, isn't? Well, now I'm telling you to - to un-shut up. And talk to me. Please."

Daniel regarded him sadly, and slowly shook his head.

"What? It isn't because I told you to shut up - which was wrong, by the way, very wrong, especially... Or you're just never going to talk to me again?"

Jack looked unbearably forlorn. The abject misery writ large across his face was almost too much for Daniel who'd had more than his fair share of misery for one lifetime, as had Jack.

"Couldn't you at least throw me a bone here? Just a teeny tiny little bone...?"

Daniel could not deny him, but he wasn't going to cave entirely, or immediately, however much he wanted too. Jack still had another step to take - an important step - but he would help him to take it.

Daniel removed his glasses with one hand and waved the other around them in a generalized way.

Jack looked mystified, wrinkling his nose in an attempt to get the point. "It's about your glasses?"

Daniel shook his head, but in a way that said 'follow that thought.'

"Spectacles?" Jack asked, puzzled but willing.

Daniel gave a small smile, moved one finger and thumb closer together and covered one lens with his other hand.

"Spectacle? I made a spectacle of you?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. He waved his hand around the visible half of his glasses, pointed to the lens with one finger then moved finger and thumb a little together.

"About half a spectacle," Jack mused.

Daniel was impressed by his patience - that he didn't try to bulldoze his way to the solution. He nodded then put his glasses down and held up four fingers, one by one. Then he pointed to each finger in turn and went back to point to the first finger he'd raised.

Jack looked thoughtful. "About?"

Daniel nodded.


Daniel shook his head. He moved finger and thumb closer together and held up two fingers of his other hand between them.

"Small word?"

A nod from Daniel. "Two letters?" Another nod. "About...? two letters...?" Another nod.

Jack scratched his head and thought awhile. There was a faint easing of his wrinkled forehead. "Re?"

Daniel nodded vigorously and smiled.

"Re half a spectacle?" No Jack hadn't quite got it yet.

Daniel gave him exasperated look, held his hands about a foot apart and moved one forcefully halfway towards the other. He looked Jack in the eye. Hard. Willing him to catch on.

Jack looked as if he was having a tooth drawn. Without anaesthetic. "Re... Sp—" He closed his eyes and sighed.


"Yes, Jack, respect," Daniel said solemnly.

"What I haven't shown you much of lately, huh?"

"Try none at all, Jack."

Jack bit his lip, looked down and turned his head away. Anyone else might have read the move as shame, but Daniel saw the single tear fall and knew it to be sorrow. He also knew Jack wasn't big on self-forgiveness.

To give them both a breathing space, Daniel picked up both mugs. "More coffee, Jack?" He got a mute nod by way of reply.

A few minutes later, Daniel returned, leaned over Jack's shoulder and placed the mugs on the table. He himself remained standing by his colleague. Friend.

Jack swivelled round and looked up. "I am so sorry Daniel. Beyond words sorry. I can hardly ask for your forgiveness, but I do. Can you do that? Forgive me?"

Daniel answered with a tender smile and a nod.

"So, we can still have a good relationship, Daniel?"

Daniel bent down and rested his forearms on the back of Jack's chair. "I don't know, Jack. We can certainly have a good friendship, if that's what you want."

He leaned forward and whispered in Jack's ear. "A relationship? And everything that goes with it? That's up to you."

Eyes met for a long moment, then lips met.

"I'll take that as a yes," Daniel smiled.

Fizz... Ting!

Crown Infernal