Whispers of Hope

The sun shone brightly overhead sending its warmth down onto a camp in a large clearing in the forest. Several big green tents were still waiting for the equipment inside to be packed up before they were taken down and added to the growing pile of boxes, crates and bags in the centre of the camp. The tent that had contained Jack's equipment had the sides rolled up to allow some breeze through while still shading him from the strong sunlight. He checked the fastenings on a case and handed it to the young airman beside him.

"Careful with that, the US government will dock it from your pay if you drop it," Jack said with a grin as the young man began to hurry away.

The airman shook his head and smiled. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Wouldn't want that, sir."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Is it my imagination, or are they getting worse?"

Sam looked up from the bench she was working at. "They're picking up your sense of humour."

He moved over to her bench and began packing away one of the microscopes. "Can I help it if I'm a role model?"

Sam snorted and for a while they worked in companionable silence. This tent had most of the scientific equipment and they both wanted to be certain that it was packed away safely. Occasionally airmen popped in to take away some of the cases and boxes, but otherwise they were left undisturbed. Outside the tent it was organised chaos as Sam's 2IC shouted orders and directions to get the camp taken down and packed onto the transports, but inside it was an oasis of calm.

Sam looked up from her laptop. "So, do you and Daniel have plans for your downtime?"

Jack's wicked grin told her everything.

"Honestly, Jack, you're like newlyweds sometimes," Sam complained good-naturedly. "In fact, you're worse than newlyweds. You two have been together for three years and you still can't keep your hands off each other."

"We haven't seen each other for over a month!" Jack protested.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall Daniel visiting less than three days ago. Something about an inscription in a cave . . ?"

"We had a tent with thin walls and lots of people around," Jack pointed out. "That's not exactly private."

"And in that cave?"

"We worked."

"Uh-huh." Sam's voice sounded doubtful. "I'm still surprised you two manage to keep it off base . . ."

She trailed off as Jack's flaming face and intense concentration on the fastenings to the case he was packing gave him away.

Sam groaned. "Doctor O'Neill, I'm shocked and disappointed in you. Both of you. Having sex on base . . . is that the responsible behaviour we expect from senior members of the program?"

The mischief in her eyes told Jack that she was not as shocked as she was pretending to be. In fact there was just the slightest hint of speculation in her eyes. She was probably trying to work out where they had found a place to have sex on the base without being caught on camera. That was something Jack was not going to tell her; she would probably hide a camera there for the blackmail potential. The idea of being on latrine duty for the next few missions was less than appealing. The other possible outcomes of Sam, a camera and an intimate moment made him shudder to think about. Some things should always remain private.

"We're not in the Air Force so you can't court-martial us," he said cheerfully, trying to distract her. "The US government is hardly going to care what two scientists get up to in the privacy of their own houses."

Sam grinned at him. Maybe not telling her would be even worse. Jack could see her following him everywhere around the base for the next few weeks trying to catch them. Not that they were planning to have sex on base again; it had been a one time thing early in their relationship when the entire base had been on quarantine due to a virus SG-2 had brought back.

"I don't know," Sam said. "The US government might have a few questions about resources-"

She broke off as her radio crackled.

"Major Carter, please respond."

Sam sighed and tugged the radio on her lapel closer to her mouth. "Carter here."

"Ma'am, you're needed at the Gate. It's urgent."

She exchanged a glance with Jack before taking off at a run. They were due to return to Earth in a few hours so if it was a transmission from Earth that could not wait, it was probably not good. If it wasn't Earth dialling in . . .

Jack followed her at a slightly slower pace but with no less urgency. The Stargate was inactive when he reached their temporary embarkation area but several airmen were gathered in front of it. They were eerily silent. He elbowed through the crowd, registering in the back of his mind that the airmen weren't protesting, and froze when he saw what they were gathered around.

At first he thought that Sam was kneeling next to a heap of bloody cloth. Then it moved. Jack swallowed hard and forced himself to kneel on the other side of the injured man.

Gasps of air wheezed into damaged lungs. Sam bent her head towards the man's face and listened to his faint whisper. Her face paled and she closed her eyes. After a moment she whispered something back to him and raised her head. The man turned his head towards Jack and he had to swallow again as he recognised Teal'c's eyes in the ravaged face. The scientist lowered his head so that Teal'c's lips almost brushed his ear.

"O'Neill."

Teal'c's voice was faint and laboured.

"I'm here," Jack said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

"I am sorry, O'Neill." A strained gasp. "I failed to protect DanielJackson. He was taken."

For a moment it felt as though Jack's heart had stopped. "Taken?"

He looked down but Teal'c's eyes were closed. When he raised his eyes he could see that tears were streaming down Sam's pale face.

"Sam?"

She stood, already trying to put on a calmer expression although there was intense grief in her eyes. "Lieutenant Astor, gather everyone. I have an announcement."

Teal'c's chest still moved slightly but his breathing was shallow. Jack could only stare at him. Grief seemed to be sucking the air out of his lungs and draining the strength from his legs. He knew that there was something much more important going on, something that had turned Teal'c into a bloody ruin, but his mind just kept repeating the word 'taken' over and over. All he could do was sit on the floor and wait for someone to tell him that this was a bad dream.

***

Two worlds over

Daniel hit the button for the elevator and waited impatiently. Calls from Hammond asking him to get to the infirmary immediately were never good. Hundreds of scenarios flashed through his mind as he waited. Everyone in SG-1 should be at the base; their next mission was not until tomorrow and none of them had been lent to other units. But even on the base there was no guarantee that no one had been injured. Sam could have had an accident in her lab . . . Jack and Teal'c could have been sparring . . . there could have been something hiding on the base, like the Rheetou . . .

The elevator arrived at his floor and Daniel firmly pushed his worry away. He would find out soon enough.

The doors slid open and Daniel had already stepped in before he noticed that it was not empty. Jack was standing by the control panel. Daniel met his eyes and smiled uncertainly before moving to stand awkwardly at the back of the elevator. They travelled up in silence trying to pretend that nothing was wrong when in reality everything had changed.

It had been four days since that difficult conversation in Jack's house and Daniel had been trying to give him the space that he needed. At the base they had managed to avoid each other most of the time and Daniel had altered his routine so that there were no awkward moments in the commissary or the infirmary. After work they went to their separate houses without saying a word. Daniel missed the way that Jack used to come into his office and bug him or take him out to the commissary for lunch. He missed talking to his friend, laughing, arguing, eating take-out . . . he missed Jack.

Even though they were standing less than two feet apart in an elevator it felt like they were worlds apart. He could hear Jack's breathing, sense his presence next to him but there was a distance there that had never been there before. Since that burst of emotion outside his house, Jack had been so closed down that Daniel hadn't been able to sense more than an occasional hint of frustration from him. For the first time he was realising how much of Jack had been in that tiny corner of his mind and how much he depended on that presence.

None of that was on his face as they waited for the elevator to reach their floor. Jack needed space while he worked out what he wanted and Daniel was determined to give it to him.

Eventually the elevator reached the correct level and the doors slid open. Daniel waited for Jack to step out and get a few feet ahead before exiting. They walked down the corridor keeping those few feet of distance between them but trying to act as though nothing was wrong. Daniel was concentrating so hard on watching his feet and not watching Jack that he did not notice that Jack had stopped at the door of the infirmary. He walked straight into Jack's back and there was a confused moment as Jack automatically turned to catch him, remembered they were trying to give each other space, and then apologised for almost dropping him again.

By the time they had sorted out limbs and balance, Jack and Daniel were standing on opposite sides of the doorway trying to look like nothing had happened. Nobody in the infirmary seemed to have noticed the small scuffle.

Daniel turned away from Jack and found that he was looking straight at . . . Jack.

After a long, breathless moment he realised that it was not his Jack lying in the infirmary bed. This Jack had dark circles under his eyes, deep lines between his brows and dull eyes. He looked exhausted, as though everything that made him Jack had been drained out of him. Daniel glanced at the Jack next to him, vibrant and filled with life by comparison, to reassure himself that his Jack really was there.

"Daniel . . ."

The startled gasp sounded familiar and Daniel realised that Jack was not the only one lying in an infirmary bed. The bed next to him held a Sam Carter who was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hair just brushed her shoulders so this could not be the Sam that he had eaten breakfast with that morning, but Daniel still had to glance around the infirmary to make sure that his Sam was there. He returned his attention to the duplicate a moment later, taking in her lank, dark blonde hair and exhausted expression. The white infirmary gown seemed to hang on her and Daniel was shocked to see how thin she was.

"You know him?" Jack - his Jack - asked.

The duplicate Sam nodded, her eyes never leaving Daniel's face. "We knew him."

Daniel was half expecting it, but finding out that he was dead in yet another world still hit him like a punch to the gut. Was there some cosmic death-sentence out on the Daniel Jackson in every reality?

"Sir, I thought the quantum mirror was destroyed," Jack said, turning to Hammond who was standing quietly next to Janet. "We did destroy it this time, right?"

Hammond nodded. "I supervised it myself."

"Then how did these . . . people end up here?"

There was a slight tightening in the general's lips before he answered. "They came through the Stargate with SG-9's codes."

"We used a quantum mirror that brought us out on an abandoned planet," the other Sam said, her voice sounding rusty and dry. "All the other mirrors seemed to lead to Earths that the Goa'uld already occupied."

"There's another mirror in this reality?" Sam asked, her eyes betraying her surprise and excitement at the idea.

"It is not unreasonable to suppose that the creators of the mirrors wished to have a second device in case the original ceased to function." Teal'c had been standing silently at the back of the room watching them. It was strange how such a large man could sometimes tower and intimidate, but on other occasions become so still and unobtrusive you did not even know he was there unless he spoke. Daniel noted absently that no one from the other team reacted to his presence. Obviously their Teal'c had also defied Apophis, even though for some reason he was not with them now.

"Or maybe they didn't have access to the Stargates so they used mirrors instead," Sam mused quietly.

"Right now that's not what concerns me," Hammond said.

Carter, as Daniel had already privately dubbed her, tried to sit up straighter in her bed but sank back against the pillows. "Sir, with your permission I must request asylum for my men. We have nowhere left to go."

Hammond's clearly face showed the reluctance he felt at denying her, but there was no choice. "Major, I'm afraid you can't stay here."

The remaining energy seemed to drain out of the exhausted Carter and she closed her eyes for a moment before her face hardened and she fixed Hammond with a glare that probably bordered on insolence. "Sir, with all due respect - why not?"

Sam stepped forward. "Because after about forty-eight hours in this reality you will begin to suffer from temporal entropic cascade failure. Duplicates from different realities cannot exist in the same reality due to the increased entropy generated-"

"It causes temporal failure," Carter finished. "Damn. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I didn't until another, uh, us appeared here," Sam said with a wry grin.

"You've met people from other realities before?" another voice asked.

For the first time, Daniel noticed that Carter and Jack were not the only people lying in infirmary beds. A redheaded woman that he did not recognise lay in a bed next to Carter and a vaguely familiar woman occupied the bed next to the other Jack. It was the redhead who had spoken; the other woman had her eyes closed although the tension in her face showed that she was not sleeping.

"A couple of realities," Sam said. "The Goa'uld have conquered Earth in a lot of the other realities."

There was an awkward silence in the infirmary. Daniel did not know where to look. The other Jack seemed to be staring at the blanket that covered him but as soon as Daniel turned his attention to someone else he had the intense feeling that he was being watched.

Hammond shook his head sadly. "Major Carter, I'm very sorry but there is nothing I can do for you. I can have Doctor Fraiser check over yourself and your men and offer you the facilities of this base to rest and recuperate, but you cannot stay in this reality."

Carter nodded. "I understand, sir."

"When Doctor Fraiser has finished her tests and you are feeling up to it, I will need to de-brief you," Hammond added. "I can see that events in your reality significantly different from this reality."

"If you don't mind, sir, I would prefer to de-brief now," Carter said, visibly steeling herself to explain. "My team is exhausted, but maybe you can find a way to help us given enough time."

Hammond glanced at Janet, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, before giving his assent.

Carter sat up a little straighter. "We don't have all the details, sir. My team had been on P5C-882 for the past three months. In my reality, scientific and cultural research is the prime goal of the program so we had set up a research station to observe certain stellar events in a nearby star-system. On our final day, when we were packing up to leave the planet, the Stargate activated and Teal'c came through."

Her voice shook slightly and she took a deep breath before going on. "He was badly injured but he managed to give me a rough outline of what had happened before he passed out. The Goa'uld made a lightening strike against our Earth. They landed on the mountain and Jaffa broke into the base, injuring and killing many of the personnel and taking some through the Stargate. Then they released . . . devices in the atmosphere and on the base that irradiated everything. When Teal'c was sent through the Gate, everyone on the planet was dead or dying. His symbiote protects him from some radiation but we still have no idea whether or not he'll survive. We just don't have the medical personnel on 882 to treat him. There were fifteen teams off world at the time and I've managed to get word to most of them before they tried to return to Earth. Teal'c had a disk with the data and all our Stargate addresses. We're currently using 882 as a home base but we don't have enough food, equipment or shelter for a long-term post off world. Our studies suggest that it will be winter in a few months and I'm not sure whether we can survive."

Her voice was beginning to crack so Janet gave her a glass of water and she smiled gratefully. Carter took a few sips and resumed her account. "Teal'c came through two weeks ago. Volunteers have been going out in teams, trying to find a civilization or a device that can help us. The quantum mirror seemed like our last hope."

"I'm sorry that it isn't," Hammond said, regret in his voice even though he had only just met her. "We've seen the results of temporal entropic cascade failure and it isn't pretty. The truth is, you'll be better off in your own reality than you will be here."

Carter nodded. "I understand that, sir. We'll be on our way as soon as Doctor Fraiser releases us."

"A day here won't do any harm, will it Major?" Hammond asked.

Sam shook her head. "They'll be fine for a day, maybe a little more."

"Thank you, sir," Carter said, already closing her eyes wearily.

Hammond nodded and gestured towards the door. Daniel was about to follow the rest of SG-1 out of the infirmary when a thought occurred to him and he turned back.

"Sam, did Teal'c know which Goa'uld attacked you?" he asked.

Surprisingly, it was Jack who answered in a rusty whisper. "Chronos. He said Chronos took him."

***

Jack was first into the briefing room and he took his seat as he watched the others file in. There was an awkward silence as they sat down and waited. Daniel took a seat opposite Jack without looking at him but the colonel was sure that he was as aware of Jack's presence as he was of his. Doctor Fraiser arrived a couple of minutes later carrying a couple of thin files, her expression preoccupied even as she nodded to Hammond and sat down next to Carter.

"Doctor, what can you tell us about our guests?" Hammond asked.

Fraiser opened one of her files but did not seem to need to refer to it. "Physically, they are Major Carter, Colonel O'Neill and Lieutenant Astor. I can't find anything to indicate that they aren't exactly who they say they are. The fourth, Captain Clarke, has never been a member of the SGC so I can't confirm her identity until I've found out where her duplicate is in this reality."

"So their story about the quantum mirror checks out?"

"Oh, absolutely, sir," Fraiser said emphatically. "They're exhausted, malnourished and Astor has a respiratory infection but I can't find anything else wrong with them. They are exactly who they say they are."

Hammond nodded. "Can you verify anything of the rest of their story?"

Fraiser sighed. "No, sir. I can only tell you their physical state. They haven't eaten properly for a while, they're all under tremendous stress and Astor's infection should have been treated days ago. We can only make guesses about what caused that."

"But it does back up their story," Daniel said quickly.

Jack kept his eyes focused on Fraiser. It was easier.

"It's one possible interpretation," Fraiser agreed, her voice brisk. "There are others."

Just because the SGC staff they had met in previous realities had been fairly similar to their counterparts here did not mean that they would always be that way. How could they be sure that these people were good guys? They only had their word on it at the moment. Jack was reserving judgement on them for now.

"Teal'c, does their weapon sound like anything you encountered during your time with Apophis?" Hammond asked.

The Jaffa inclined his head slightly. "It does. Apophis possessed a weapon that poisoned the air and land of a planet for many years. During my time as Apophis' First Prime, I saw it utilized once. It did great damage."

"Could your duplicate have survived one of these things going off in his face?" Jack asked.

"My symbiote protects me from some exposure to radiation," Teal'c said gravely, "but I doubt very much whether I could survive for long after exposure to this weapon. It is very powerful."

"So they might be telling the truth, or they might not, but we have no way of knowing," Hammond said with a heavy sigh.

Daniel looked up. "The question shouldn't be whether we believe them or not. I'm sorry, sir, but shouldn't we be trying to work out some way to help them rather than debating the veracity of their story?"

"Doctor Jackson, as it stands there is very little help that we can give them," Hammond said.

"We can give them food and medical treatment," Daniel countered. "Janet, isn't there something you can do for them?"

Doctor Fraiser shook her head helplessly. "Physically, I can treat Astor's infection and give them a couple of good meals. That isn't going to be much in the long term. They've been through a tremendous amount over the past few weeks. Everyone they ever knew or cared about has died. They're all deeply in shock. Frankly, I'm surprised that they aren't in complete emotional break-down right now. If we had time I'd recommend a complete psychological assessment and probably intense therapy. I'm not sure that this is something they'll ever get over."

"Unfortunately we don't have time for that," Hammond told her. "Do for them what you can."

"I will sir."

"There must be something else we can do," Daniel protested. "We could give them the Gate coordinates for the Asgard - it worked last time."

"Daniel, last time we weren't dealing with a world that's been completely destroyed," Carter said gently. "From what my counterpart said, there's nothing left to rebuild. There are maybe only a hundred humans left from her Earth, all based on 882, and they won't be able to return to their Earth for a long time. The Asgard are technologically advanced but I don't know whether they'd be able to cleanse the severity of radiation poisoning that we're talking about."

Daniel was never one to give up easily. It was one of the traits that Jack admired most, but it also drove him nuts sometimes. He was the poster-boy for stubborn.

"So we don't just give them information on the Asgard," Daniel persisted. "We've met other cultures that might be willing to help them. If they can't go back to Earth then they'll need supplies - food, medicine, tools."

Hammond nodded. "Major, would inanimate matter be affected by temporal entropic cascade failure?"

"From our experiences with previous realities, mostly Major Kawalsky's lack of reaction to being in this reality, I think that it's only living things that are affected," she said. "We should be able to send aid to them, although I have no idea what the affect would be if we sent living plants through that existed on their side of the mirror."

"Good." Hammond managed to sound pleased and resigned at the same time. "Major Carter, liase with your counterpart to find out exactly what they will need and whether there are any Gate addresses we can supply them with that they do not already have. I want a report on my desk with your lists in twelve hours. Doctor Fraiser, put together a list of medical supplies they might need for my approval. I'm afraid that none of you are going to be leaving this base until our guests have gone, which means that your mission to P2S-4C3 will have to be postponed. Colonel, we will try to reschedule that mission later. Does anyone want to add anything?"

Fraiser was already putting papers back in her files and Carter was inching towards her, probably to co-ordinate their lists. There was a chorus of "no, sir" from around the table. Jack echoed it after a moment's thought.

"Then you're all dismissed."

Hammond stood and immediately went into his office. Jack knew that this was his signal to follow the general and discuss security for their 'guests' but for a moment he hesitated. Daniel was putting some hastily scrawled notes into a folder. All he needed to do was say a quick "are you ok?" and Daniel would know that things were going to be fine between them.

Jack chickened out and moved around the table to knock on Hammond's door.

***

Daniel hurried down the corridor towards his office. He was supposed to be wracking his brain for a way to help Sam's . . . Major Carter's team. Instead his thoughts kept getting dragged back to the expression on Jack's face just before he left the briefing room. For a moment he had thought that Jack was finally going to talk to him. He was still surprised by how much he missed Jack's company. Maybe it shouldn't be so surprising when he considered how tangled their feelings for each other were, but the new awareness of Jack constantly at the edge of his mind just reminded him of how far apart they seemed to be now.

A sudden thought pushed through the whirling mass of other thoughts and made him stop in his tracks. He could only feel one Jack. There were two here on the base but there was only one faint bundle of presence and frustration tucked away in the corner that he knew was Jack.

Daniel shook his head and resumed his journey towards his office. It was not an important thought.

There were two SFs flanking each door to his office. Daniel paused when he noticed them and smiled politely. One of them, Daniel thought his name might be Perkins or Pecking, nodded slightly to him but otherwise there was no response. The men could have been carved from granite, although rock did not usually look as though it could launch into a killing spree if he made an unexpected move.

There was only one explanation for their presence and, as he had half expected, the other team's Jack was in his office when he nudged the door open and slipped inside. There was no mistaking this Jack for anyone else. It was not just the instinctive knowledge that his Jack was somewhere below and behind him; this Jack had none of his Jack's vibrancy and he was sitting stiffly on one of the stools rather than treating the room as though he owned it.

"Can I help you?" Daniel asked quietly.

Jack jumped to his feet and for a moment Daniel thought he was going to bolt. But he stayed although he did not seem to be able to speak. It was as though Jack was fighting a battle with himself because his eyes kept darting to Daniel, then away, before being pulled back again. The hunger and longing in Jack's eyes almost masked the pain. Almost.

"Doctor O'Neill?"

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and finally allowed his eyes to settle on Daniel. "No . . . yeah . . . maybe . . . do you mind not calling me doctor? Coming from you it just sounds weird."

"Do we know each other well?" Daniel asked curiously.

Jack's laugh was harsh and bitter. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Sorry," Daniel apologised quickly. "In the other realities we've found, I usually haven't joined the SGC so . . ."

"In our reality, you're the genius that figured out the Stargate."

Daniel concentrated hard on not stuttering at the compliment. His Jack did not normally do that without either provocation or alcohol.

"Uh, thanks." He paused and took a deep breath. "I guess our realities aren't too different."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I can't believe your me is in the Air Force."

Daniel shrugged. "Most people here will have trouble believing that you're a physicist."

"Observational cosmologist."

"Scientist."

"Ah."

There was an awkward silence. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next, even though Daniel could see the thoughts racing across Jack's face.

"So, do you-"

"Did your-"

They both broke off self-consciously, and Jack gestured for Daniel to continue.

"You are the first Jack I've met who isn't in the Air Force," Daniel told him. "You were a General in one reality, but you've always been military."

Jack winced. "I have no idea how that happened."

"There must have been some point in your life when the decision was made. Sam theorised that each reality splits each time someone makes a decision - possibly your reality was created when you decided to study physics rather than joining the Air Force." Daniel shrugged. "Of course, the deciding factor in your reality could have been anything and your decision to pursue physics was simply a by-product."

"No matter which reality you're in, though, you always think too hard," Jack said with a small grin. His eyes were still shadowed with pain but some of the tension appeared to be draining out of him. "Must be genetic."

"Maybe."

Daniel suddenly realised that he was standing in the middle of his office with his arms filled with files and he hadn't even offered Jack a drink or a seat. He dumped the files onto a clear space on one of the desks and gestured for Jack to re-take his seat on a stool while he began setting up his coffee maker.

"I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?" Jack asked softly.

"No," Daniel denied quickly.

Jack gave a harsh laugh. "I know you well enough to know that you're lying. You're behaving exactly the way that my Daniel would."

The archaeologist deliberately put the bag of coffee back into a cupboard and sat down. "You aren't making me uncomfortable."

Jack dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry. It's just that . . . it's . . . you're so like him. I think I'd like to beat the Jack O'Neill of this universe into a bloody pulp because he still has you and my you is probably dead by now."

His expression told Daniel exactly what he meant. "You mean you and your me were, uh, together?"

Jack nodded, frowning slightly. "For three years. Daniel, what's wrong?"

"What about Sam?" he asked, focusing on the first thought to occur to him. "The other Jack O'Neills we've met have been married or engaged to their Sam Carters."

"Sam?" Jack eyed him curiously. "I guess if I hadn't met you . . . but your me has met you so why is he with Sam?"

"He isn't."

"But you aren't with him either?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Why the hell not?" Jack demanded.

"He's . . . thinking."

"What does he need to think about?" Jack's eyes lit fiercely. "I really should be beating him into a bloody pulp."

"It's complicated. He needs some time to work things out in his mind."

"He's a jerk."

Daniel could not stop the corner of his mouth twitching in a half-grin. "That's what he tried to tell me when we were discussing it."

"Discussing? He had to-"

"He's military," Daniel cut in. "His entire adult life has been about the Air Force. It's hard for him to adjust to feeling something that he's spent his life ignoring."

There was strained silence in the office. Daniel could feel Jack's gaze on him, the hunger and yearning unmistakable, but he could not meet it.

"I'm sorry," Jack said after a minute. "Didn't mean to pry. I'm just . . ."

"Yes?"

His smile was bitter. "Wishing there was some way to stop it hurting so much."

This Jack was certainly a lot more open with his emotions than the Jack that Daniel knew. It only served to emphasise how far apart the two Jacks were despite their outward similarities. Daniel was slightly surprised to realise that, even though he hated having to fight for every scrap of information from his Jack, he still would not want to change him. Whatever it was that made him love his Jack was missing from the man sitting in front of him.

"If I kissed you, would you hit me?" Jack asked softly.

Daniel's head shot up and he met Jack's eyes, seeing the naked longing in them. "I don't know, but I'd have to point out that it's probably a very bad idea."

"I'm full of bad ideas."

Slowly, Jack reached up and brushed his fingers along Daniel's cheek before cupping it gently. He seemed to be concentrating intently on watching his thumb rub the skin underneath. There was a breathless moment when anything seemed possible and then he withdrew and Daniel took a shaky breath.

"You're always right," Jack said softly. "You're so close to him . . . but you're not him."

"No, I'm not."

Jack stood and began pacing, running his hands through his hair. "Does it ever stop hurting?"

Carefully, Daniel touched the pain deep inside that was his memory of Sha're's death. Most of his memories of her were happy ones now but that one, seeing her face still and lifeless before him . . . it still hurt.

"No," he said with a sad smile. "But it does get easier, eventually. Sometimes you can even forget it for a while."

Jack stopped moving with his back to Daniel and took a deep, shuddering breath. "How?"

Daniel stood and moved to stand behind Jack, reaching out a hand and almost resting it on his shoulder but unable, for some reason, to move it the last few inches. "Well, I had y-uh . . . Jack to help. You've got friends. One day-"

He broke off as Jack abruptly turned and pulled him into a hug so tight his ribs creaked. For a moment he was immobile, frozen to the spot, and then he realised that the quiet shaking of the man clinging to him was soundless sobbing. It was scary and intense to feel Jack, of anyone he knew, cry. It was terrifying to feel a man who had come to represent stability and strength lose control like this.

Daniel held himself stiffly for a long moment as Jack silently cried on his shoulder before reminding himself that, no matter what he looked like, this was not his Jack. This Jack apparently had no problem grieving and being vulnerable in front of him so it was only fair to return that trust. More than that, it was the right thing to do. He wrapped his arms around Jack and held him, rubbing his back soothingly the way his Jack had a few times over the years.

After a while the shaking eased and Jack's clinging grew a little less desperate. Daniel realised with a sharp pang of guilt that he was enjoying having Jack pressed so closely and that he was trying to imagine that it was his Jack holding him tightly. The guilt was almost immediately pushed away as he felt Jack take a deep breath against his neck, and realised that Jack was doing exactly the same thing. It was time to move away before they did something they would both regret.

At the same as the thought ran through Daniel's mind, Jack came to the same conclusions and moved away. The archaeologist let Jack turn his back to rub his face clear of any traces of tears, using the need to move some books off his couch as a diversion to give Jack time to recover.

When he judged that the physicist was back in control, he sat down and beckoned him over to the couch. "Would it help to talk?"

Jack turned to give Daniel a searching look. His eyes were slightly red and blood-shot, but in his tired, haggard face it did not look out of place. If anything, the lines of tension around his mouth had softened slightly.

"Are you sure you want me talking?" Jack asked, moving hesitantly towards the couch. "I'm not sure I want me talking."

Daniel shrugged. "Sometimes talking helps. Jack let me talk about Sha're for hours. It helped to share her with someone who understood."

"She died here, too?"

Daniel ducked his head. "Eventually."

"I met my Daniel a few weeks after he came back from Abydos," Jack said slowly. "He was still in shock. I took him home with me that night."

"Did you . . . uh . . ."

"Do the deed that night?" Jack asked with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Nope. Would have been a bit tacky to seduce the guy just after his wife died."

"Sha're died on Abydos?"

"She didn't here?"

"No." Daniel sighed sadly. "I lost her that day, but she didn't die until . . . it wasn't . . . she was taken as a host. I couldn't save her."

"I'm so sorry," Jack said softly, finally sitting down next to Daniel. "I know how much you both loved her. If it helps, he didn't get over it for a long time either."

Daniel knew what Jack was trying to tell him; neither of them got over Sha're quickly but he shouldn't feel guilty for moving on either. "Thanks."

"He was always very proud of me," Jack said with a quick grin, "for waiting over two years before seducing him. I was proud of me. It was a proud moment."

"You were happy together?"

"Oh, yeah . . ."

***

The meeting with Hammond had taken a lot longer than Jack had anticipated. Being the most senior officer on the base next to the general, not to mention one of the officers with the most off world experience, was a double-edged sword. He could get away with things that other airmen would be court-martialled for and he had more say in how his team was deployed, but those benefits were often cancelled out by the extra meetings he had to sit in on and the extra paperwork he had to wade through. Hammond had wanted his input on some of the missions they were planning and the allocation of some new recruits. Even quantum mirror duplicates could not stop such essential work.

That was not why Jack sighed as he entered the lift. He was tired and cranky from trying to think about things he usually avoided and whenever his mind was allowed to drift it always ended up in the same place.

Daniel.

Jack punched the elevator button with more force than was really necessary and settled into a slouch against the wall. The past four days had been his idea of hell and they did not seem to be improving.

He had intended to go straight to his office and check his inbox before finding a bunk for a couple of hours of sleep. The doors opened on level nineteen, two levels from his office, and Jack gave himself a mental slap for unconsciously sending the elevator to Daniel's level. He tried to talk himself into going to his own floor but he was already out of the elevator and halfway down the corridor. Without even thinking about it, his feet took him on the familiar path to Daniel's office.

Two SFs were disappearing down the corridor with a familiar-looking man in blue fatigues when he arrived at Daniel's office. Jack's first instinct was to follow his duplicate and demand to know exactly what he had been talking to the archaeologist about. He hadn't missed the looks that O'Neill had been giving Daniel in the infirmary.

He went with his second instinct and glanced through the window in the nearest door to Daniel's office.

The archaeologist was sitting at his desk with a faraway look in his eyes, spinning a pen between his fingers. Jack half-raised his hand to knock before dropping it. He wanted to go inside and talk to the man, explain why he was acting like a prize jerk and apologise. A small, but rapidly growing, part of him wanted to go inside and hug the man. If he went in and explained his confusion and uncertainty, Jack was sure that Daniel would know exactly what to say to persuade him that everything was going to be fine.

Instead Jack took one last look into the office where Daniel was now pulling out books to start on some work before turning quickly and walking back to the elevator.

***

"Hey."

Sleepy brown eyes blinked up at her before Astor slowly smiled. "Hey, ma'am."

Carter sat down in the chair next to Astor's infirmary bed. Janet had sent everyone apart from Astor to VIP quarters to rest but she felt too restless to sleep. Instead she was making rounds of her people to see how they were before she tried to scare up some work from somewhere. The SFs that had been assigned to her had been very obliging in letting her wander along to where she wanted to go, and Carter had returned the favour by not trying to get access to anything that would have been secured in her reality. So far Jack had yelled at her to let him get some peace, Clarke had wearily told her to take a nap and that just left checking in on Astor.

"How are you feeling?" Carter asked.

Astor shrugged. "Doc Fraiser's drugs are pretty good. Not feeling any pain here."

Carter managed to find a grin for her. "That's good, Lieutenant."

"Yeah."

Astor's eyes began to drift shut but she made a visible effort to wake up. "Has General Hammond given any indication about what he'll do with us?"

"We'll probably get sent back to our reality before our time limit runs out," she said, trying not let the disappointment she felt show. "Hopefully he'll send some supplies with us, otherwise I don't know how the base camp will hold out over winter."

"We're tough," Astor said, her voice rasping slightly. "We'll survive."

There was a glass of water with a straw in on a stand next to the bed so Carter picked it up and offered it to Astor. "We'll survive a lot better with some equipment."

The lieutenant waved away the glass after a few sips. "If he's anything like our General Hammond, we won't be sent away empty handed. I just wish . . ."

"Yes?" Carter asked after a short pause.

Astor shook her head. "It's nothing, ma'am."

Carter looked at the lieutenant, taking in her bedraggled appearance, the slight wheeze as she breathed and the thinness that emphasised how young she was.

"You know, you're going to have to make a tough decision," Carter said slowly. "You're the only one out of all of us who can stay. Captain Clarke is apparently a teacher in Connecticut in this reality but your duplicate died over a year ago. Apparently the Daniel in this reality has had some experience with this situation, and they all think that you could stay here with no side effects."

She met Astor's stunned expression and almost wished she had kept her mouth shut. It was a hell of a decision to make at the best of times, and the woman in the bed in front of her was tired, sick and grieving. How could she make a rational decision about something like this that would change the rest of her life?

How could she not give her the option?

Carter patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Just think about it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'm," Astor said faintly.

She stood and left the infirmary quietly. Her two guards were standing outside and they snapped to attention as she appeared. For a moment she debated where to go next before realising that there was only one place she really wanted to go to.

"Can you take me to my - Major Carter's lab?" she asked them.

The taller, blonder member of the pair - his badge said he was called Embry - nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Follow me, ma'am."

Carter raised an eyebrow, shook her head and followed him. Hammond had probably given him orders to take her there, otherwise there would be no way that she would have been allowed within fifty feet of such a sensitive area. The route to the lab was a familiar one but Carter found that she was trying to memorise each detail, noticing all the minute changes that made this reality different from hers. A wall was painted a slightly different shade of grey. The level indicator in the elevator was red instead of green. Tiny changes but they all combined to make this world different to the one she knew.

The lab door was half open when they arrived and her guards settled into positions on either side of the door without saying a word. Carter slipped inside and spent a moment taking in the familiar room. This, at least, was the same. There was even the lonely geranium on top of a rack of servers that Janet had given her last Christmas in her never-ending quest to brighten the room up a little.

The other her was sitting in front of a computer screen typing rapidly but she turned when Carter's boot squeaked on the floor.

"Hi," Sam said uncertainly.

Carter nodded. "Hi."

After a moment Sam stood and began pulling papers out of a file on one of the benches. "General Hammond wanted me to go through a list of supplies with you. Janet's putting together a medical kit for you, but we thought you would probably have a good idea of what basic equipment your camp could use."

Carter approached the bench and took the papers held out to her. "Thanks."

Sam shrugged. "Just tell me whether there's anything extra you need on that list and we'll try to get it for you."

Carter scanned the list, nodding her head as she saw the extra touches that would make their life on a new planet more bearable. There was even an order for a couple of pre-fab buildings and the tools to enable them to construct other durable buildings from local materials.

"It looks like exactly what I would ask for," she said after a while. "I guess that shouldn't be a surprise, huh?"

"Most of it seemed obvious," Sam said. "I need to get that list to General Hammond for approval in a couple of hours so if there's anything else you could use, add it on and I'll see what I can get."

Carter took a stood at the bench and the pen that Sam offered and tried to think of anything else that their small . . . colony, she supposed it had become . . . would need.

"Daniel also suggested that we see whether there are any Gate addresses that would be helpful that you don't have," Sam said, taking a stood across the bench from her. "We've made some friends out there and you never know, there might be someone you could contact for help."

"That sounds like Daniel," Carter said with a faint smile. "He was always trying to persuade the general that we needed to make allies as well as exploring, but that wasn't the program's mandate. We were there to explore, do cultural and scientific research, and find some technology that could defeat the Goa'uld. The President and the Joint Chiefs didn't want to 'open up a can of worms that they couldn't close'."

"We've managed to negotiate treaties with several other worlds," Sam said.

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. Carter was sure that Sam had intended to add something to that sentence but the other woman had closed her mouth so fast her teeth had clicked. She caught a couple of odd looks being directed her way but whatever it was, Sam had obviously decided she was not going to talk about it. Carter scribbled a couple of items on the end of the list and tapped her pen absently on the bench.

"I miss him," she said suddenly. Her voice croaked at the end so she cleared her throat.

Sam cocked her head curiously. "Daniel?"

Carter nodded. "He was one of my closest friends. Actually, he was more like a brother than a friend. I could talk to him about anything."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone can meet Daniel and not like him."

"Out of everyone on this side of the mirror, Daniel's the one that's changed the least. I spent last Christmas with him and Jack - it's the best holiday I've had since Dad died." Carter smiled sadly. "I've got no one to talk to now."

"You could talk to Doctor O'Neill," Sam suggested.

They exchanged glances and immediately shook their heads.

"Maybe not," Sam admitted.

Carter's answering sad smile lasted bare milliseconds. "He's got enough to deal with right now without me adding my stuff to it."

"You could talk to me," Sam offered hesitantly. "I may not be able to help, but if you just want someone to talk to . . ."

"Thanks." Carter searched her face curiously for a moment. "I think I'd like that."

They were silent for a while, exchanging curious glances before returning their attention to the papers spread out on the bench between them.

"Why haven't you got a command yet?" Carter asked.

Sam looked up and shrugged. "I guess I haven't been offered something I wanted yet."

"You're waiting for something," Carter guessed.

"Maybe."

"It's Jack, isn't it?"

Sam stared at her, wide-eyed. "What?"

"I guess if my Jack had gone into the military he would have turned out like yours. It must be hard to advance when you're waiting in his shadow."

"I hadn't really thought about it," Sam said slowly. "I was surprised to see that you're not on SG-1."

Carter shrugged. "I was for my first year at the SGC. A field unit doing first contact seemed like the best position I could ask for. But it got frustrating not having time to do my research so when they offered me command of SG-8 I jumped at it. SG-8 is . . . was NASA's baby even though most of the personnel were ours. It made them feel like they were contributing in some way. Dad had been trying to get me into NASA for years so he was pleased, even though I couldn't tell him what I was doing."

"Dad tried to get me into NASA as well."

"Some things never change."

The two women exchanged grins.

"If Colonel O'Neill retired would you take SG-1?" Carter asked curiously.

Sam shrugged. "If I were offered, sure. Not that I think they would. The colonel sort of retired a couple of years ago and they put Makepeace in charge for the duration. Daniel hated him - made Makepeace's life miserable. I feel sorry for anyone that gets on Daniel's wrong side."

Carter shuddered. "I can imagine. We found out that our Makepeace was an NID mole a couple of years ago. General Hammond hit the roof."

"Some things haven't changed."

"That's a shame - he was a good man."

"Yeah."

She added a few more lines to the paper in front of her. A final scan of the list showed that every contingency had been covered and Carter handed it to Sam with a sigh. "If we get even half that stuff authorised, we'll be in your debt."

Sam took the list, checked the additions, and nodded. "We'll do our best."

"Thanks."

The other woman picked up some reports and sifted through them for a minute. "There are a few addresses that might be useful to you. The general doesn't want me to give them to you until he's approved it, but we prepared some reports so that you can check and made sure these aren't worlds you've already visited."

Carter didn't take the reports that Sam was holding out. She was having an intense internal debate. Her curiosity was trying to overwhelm her good sense and fighting a winning battle. Sense put up a white flag and surrendered.

"Have you talked to Mark lately?" she asked.

"Last week."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Just curious, I guess." The astrophysicist hesitated a moment. "I regret not talking to him before I left. I wish we'd had the chance to make up. I haven't . . . hadn't spoken to him for years and it's too late now. I guess I wanted to make sure you didn't do the same thing. I haven't even met my niece."

Sam glanced down at the papers she was holding for a moment and Carter recognised the expression on her face. It was strange to see her own expressions and thought processes from this angle. She could watch the emotions flickering across Sam's face and saw the moment when the other woman's internal debate ended.

"I spent Christmas with Dad and Mark," Sam said slowly.

"You did? Dad didn't die here?"

Sam shook her head and looked through the computer printouts, searching for one and handing it to Carter. "He joined the Tok'ra and they saved his life. Selmac made him talk to Mark. The Tok'ra saved his life and our relationship without even realising it."

Carter read silently for a moment before her face began to twist with disgust. "Our - your father is a Goa'uld? How could you?"

"They aren't the same as the Goa'uld. They operate differently and they're fighting the Goa'uld."

"I'm sorry, but they're snakes - they're all the same in my book."

"You sound like the colonel."

"Maybe Jack has a point."

Sam glared at her. "I was blended with a Tok'ra for a while - trust me, they're nothing like the Goa'uld. Their entire belief system and social structure is different."

Carter felt sick. "You hosted one of them?"

"For a couple of days. Jolinar sacrificed herself to save me."

"You're never going to convince me that there are good Goa'uld. It's an oxymoron."

"You're right - there are no good Goa'uld. But the Tok'ra aren't Goa'uld." Sam leaned forward. "I was going to suggest trying to ally yourself with them. I don't know where their base would be on your side of the mirror but several of the contacts we're giving you should know where it is."

"Ally with Goa'uld? Never," Carter said angrily. "Maybe you wouldn't be so quick to either if your entire planet - everyone you knew and loved - had just been wiped out by those snakeheads."

"I know the Tok'ra. They'd never do something like that. If you'd been allied with them before this, they might have been able to stop it happening. They've got contacts inside the forces of most of the System Lords and have been able to give us advance information about attacks that have saved this planet."

"Are you trying to say that we brought this on ourselves?"

Sam winced. "No!"

"Well, that's what it sounds like."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you're in any way responsible for what happened. Events in your reality were different." Sam shrugged. "We'll never know whether alliances or the lack of them might have changed things."

"Well, you're sure as hell making me feel better," Carter said contemptuously, trying to swallow a thick lump in her throat. "Jack and Daniel argued for years that we should be trying to make alliances as well as getting technology to fight the Goa'uld. Hammond and most of the military - including me - supported the President's 'do not get involved' policy. It seemed to be the best choice - how would we know that we weren't supporting someone that was as bad or worse than the Goa'uld? But apparently we should have listened to Jack and Daniel."

"Hind sight is a wonderful thing."

"Isn't it just?" Carter shook her head. "I know you probably think that the Tok'ra are fine and that's just great for you, but if you'd lived through what I have you wouldn't be singing their praises. I don't think I could stand to plead with snakeheads for help and I know that I couldn't ask it of the rest of my team."

"So don't go to the Tok'ra," Sam said with a heavy sigh. "There are other names on the lists we're giving you. I'm just asking you to keep an open mind."

Carter rubbed her face tiredly. "I still can't believe Dad's one of them. I can't believe you didn't warn him about them."

"He was dying - we didn't really have a choice. He still Dad he's just . . . more. I think Selmac was the best thing to happen to him."

"Good for you. But I can't trust those creatures and I won't." Carter stood and picked up some of the papers, pointedly leaving the one on the Tok'ra on the bench. "I need to get some air. I think I'll take these to the commissary to read."

Sam nodded wearily. "Maybe that would be for the best."

Carter held the papers tightly to her chest and walked to the door where she picked up the guard that Hammond had assigned to her. The rose-tinted glasses she had been watching this reality through had been crushed into tiny pieces.

***

It was strange, Clarke mused, how some things could be so different but other things had barely changed between the two worlds.

The door she was standing in front of looked just the same as it had done in her world. There was even the scratch in the paintwork next to the handle. Sometimes she could almost believe that she was back home and the past two weeks had never happened. Then she would round a corner and something would jump out at her that had been different in her world, a civilian who had been military, a door painted a different colour, and she was forced to remember what had happened.

One of the guards who were shadowing her shuffled his feet and Clarke barely stopped herself jumping. She scrubbed her hands on her shirt before knocking at the door.

It opened after a short wait and Clarke stared wordlessly up into Teal'c's face.

"Can I help you, CaptainClarke?" he rumbled.

How many times had she heard him say that in exactly that tone? Clarke took a deep breath and reminded herself that Air Force officers do not cry in public.

"Uh . . . yeah . . .I . . . um-" she managed to choke out.

She could feel her face heating at her incoherence.

"Perhaps you would feel more comfortable discussing the matter inside."

Teal'c stepped back to allow Clarke to pass him. She barely hesitated before nodding and walking through on shaking legs. How did a man who looked so intimidating get so sensitive to other people's moods?

The room was filled with burning candles and the familiar smell made her relax. Teal'c closed the door and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Clarke did not hesitate this time; she sat down opposite him in the familiar pose and smiled slightly.

"Thank you," she said.

"I was not aware that I had aided you," Teal'c said.

Clarke shrugged. "Back on in my reality you - our you - used to lead some of us in meditation. Being here is . . . familiar. I've tried to meditate on 882 but I just can't get the concentration right."

Teal'c was silent for a while before answering. "There have been occasions when my thoughts have prevented me from achieving Kel'no'reem. It is most disturbing."

"You understand," Clarke whispered.

"I do."

There was silence again. Clarke stared at a candle on the floor between her and the Jaffa, trying to stop the thoughts whirling around her mind but it was no easier than it had been on 882.

"Perhaps if I led you through the process, you would be able to concentrate correctly," Teal'c said eventually.

This time Clarke managed a fully-fledged smile. "I was hoping you'd offer."

"You had only to ask me."

"I didn't want to presume. You look like my Teal'c . . . but you aren't."

"Indeed. Yet if your Teal'c is much like me then I must consider you to be my friend."

Somehow Clarke knew that made sense, in a strange, twisted Teal'c way. His grasp of logic was often different from hers. It was probably a Jaffa thing.

She sat up straighter and rested her hands on her knees. Teal'c raised an eyebrow in query and she nodded.

"Relax, concentrate. See the candle. Allow it to grow in your mind until all thought is pushed away. Your arms are growing heavy, the muscles becoming liquid . . ."

***

** Jack ran down the ramp from the Gate and stared around the Gate-room. Nothing moved. The place was eerily quiet. He had a vague memory of coming through the Gate, but the control room seemed abandoned so who had opened the iris? Jack dismissed the thought immediately.

He knew that something was wrong, something important, but his memory felt foggy. Daniel would know what was going on, he always did.

Jack carded open the Gate-room door and cautiously peered into the corridor. Still nothing moved but now the sweet smell of decay filled his nose and he almost gagged. Tying a cloth over his nose helped a little and he forced himself to walk through the corridors to the elevator. Automatically he punched in level nineteen and waited for the elevator to make the trip up. The doors slid open and he looked out cautiously. This corridor was as lifeless as the ones on level twenty-eight. It was only when he rounded a corner that he realised why.

Three bodies lay at awkward angles across the hall. Two of them had black scorch marks on their chests, probably from staff-weapons, but the other one showed no sign of injury. Jack stepped over them without checking any further. Fear was beginning to claw at his guts and he needed to get to Daniel's office.

At first sight, the office looked just the way he remembered it. The benches were littered with books and artefacts and the marching Egyptians screensaver played across two computer screens. It was only when he stepped into the office that he realised that something was wrong. He saw a boot poking around one of the benches. Jack knew in a distance portion of his mind what he would find but he slowly walked around the bench anyway.

Daniel was lying on his side on the floor. Jack didn't have to touch him to know that he was dead. That didn't matter. He knelt down anyway and put out a shaking hand to touch Daniel's cold, pale face.

"Daniel," he whispered.

"Hi Jack."

Jack turned quickly and lost his balance, landing hard on the floor but not noticing the pain. It was impossible. Daniel's dead body lay next to him but there he was, alive and well and leaning against the doorjamb.

"How . . .?" he managed.

Daniel's grin widened as his eyes flashed.

***

Jack was sleepily aware of someone shaking his shoulder, urging him to wake up. The cold, dread feeling of horror from the dream slowly faded away and he opened his eyes to see Daniel's face looking down at him, concern filling his blue eyes.

"Bad dream?" the archaeologist asked.

It took a moment for Jack's sleep-fogged brain to process where he was. This was their bedroom in their house, and Daniel was in their bed with him. It was impossible. He had seen Daniel's body, touched his cold, lifeless face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Daniel asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack slowly became aware of the warmth from the body next to him and Daniel's familiar, slightly spicy, slightly herbal scent surrounding him. It all felt so real.

"I thought you were dead," he managed to rasp out. "You died."

Daniel shook his head. "Do I feel dead to you?"

Reaching out, Jack rested his hand over Daniel's heart, feeling the steady beat and warm skin beneath his palm. "No."

"It was just a dream, Jack."

"It was so real. You died and I had to go on. Then you were . . . God."

"You were dreaming."

Jack closed his eyes as Daniel leaned over and kissed him slowly, the taste and feel of Daniel's lips over his driving away the last of the dream.

"Better?" Daniel asked after a while.

Jack nodded, the burning in his eyes and tightening in his throat making speech impossible. With a deep, shuddering sigh he wrapped his arms around Daniel and held him as tightly as he could. He could feel his lover stiffen slightly with surprise before he returned the hug, stroking Jack's back soothingly. How could this be a dream when Jack could smell Daniel, feel his warmth and the strength of the arms around him?

Eventually he loosened his grip and pulled back, refusing to let go entirely.

Daniel met his eyes with a puzzled expression. "What was that about?"

"You're still here," Jack said, feeling a smile spread across his face.

A sliver of moonlight chose that moment to slip through the window, washing across Daniel's face and turning it as pale as it had been in Jack's dream. For a moment Jack could feel the cold dread again. Then the moonlight drifted on to leave Daniel's face lit only by the faint light shining from a lamp outside the window. Jack reached up a hand to cup his face lightly, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingers crinkle as Daniel smiled and leaned into the touch before pressing a kiss to his palm.

"Of course I am. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Good."

Jack pulled Daniel closer again and rolled them so that the archaeologist was sprawled across him. The weight on top of him was reassuring and familiar, Daniel's indignant wriggling only serving to convince him that this was real and everything else a dream.

"Jack, I'm squashing you," Daniel objected after a moment of futile struggling.

"No, you're not."

Daniel put his face so close to Jack's he went cross-eyed trying to focus. "You're lying."

Shrugging was difficult with an archaeologist pinning him down, but Jack managed. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Daniel asked.

"It was just a dream, Daniel. I'm fine."

The dream was slowly fading away, retreating further every time Jack tried to think about it. Lying here was a much better reality than the other one. Here Daniel was alive, his head pillowed on Jack's chest, Earth had not been wiped out and tomorrow was a day off. Back there . . . Jack shuddered again at the memory of Daniel's icy face . . . the flashing eyes . . . Sam's grief . . . Astor's . . . Clarke's . . .

Here was infinitely better than back there.

"I can hear you thinking," Daniel commented sleepily. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jack shook his head. "Not really. It was just a dream, after all."

Daniel raised his head to look down at his lover's face. "I know. If you want, we could . . . uh, y'know . . . if that would help at all?"

Looking up into Daniel's face where he could just make out the blue of his eyes, Jack was tempted. Making love to Daniel would take away the last of the icy dread from the dream. It was what kept him going when he was so tired of looking at star-charts that his brain hurt. Nothing could compare to it. But he could see the tiredness in Daniel's eyes, the way he was struggling to keep his eyes open, and Jack knew that he just could not be that selfish. In the morning, when they would both enjoy it, it would be a different story but right now all he really needed was the reassurance that Daniel was here.

Jack pulled Daniel's head back onto his chest. "Go to sleep, Daniel. I'll be fine."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure." He pressed a kiss on Daniel's hair. "We can have hot, sweaty sex in the morning. Right now, this is enough."

"OK," Daniel hummed sleepily. "Love you."

Immediately the archaeologist's breathing evened out into sleep and Jack smiled faintly. "Love you, too."

He closed his eyes and drifted away . . .**

O'Neill rolled over and reached out for Daniel. After a moment of patting futilely at the cold bed next to him, memory returned and he sat up breathing harshly. He was drenched in cold sweat and his skin prickled as goose bumps rose.

Which was worse - dreaming about Daniel's death or dreaming that he was alive and then having to wake up alone? Was this what his future held, always dreaming but never having? Never being sure what was real and what was an illusion?

Only a small lamp in the corner lighted the VIP room, but it was enough for O'Neill to see that he really was here and not back in his bed with his lover. He would never be back there with Daniel.

It was tempting to lie down and try to go back to sleep, hoping to dream his way back to the time before his world ended. O'Neill knew instinctively that Daniel would have hated him to do that. Daniel always tried so hard to go on no matter what happened. Even when he lost Sha're and his world shattered, Daniel had gone on. What kind of tribute would it be to their life together if O'Neill did anything less? Going to sleep to escape from the pain would be the coward's way out, and Daniel had never been a coward.

It was the mantra he had repeated to himself every night for the past two weeks and it would probably be repeated many more times in his future. O'Neill wanted all this pain and grief to be over. He had watched Daniel grieving for Sha're and he knew that eventually the feelings would fade and he would be able to think clearly again. Maybe if he knew whether or not Daniel was really dead it would help. All Teal'c had managed to say was that he had been 'taken'. A part of him hoped that Daniel had died rather than being taken as a host. That was a horror that he never wanted inflicted on his gentle, peaceful lover. A selfish part of him might always hope that Daniel was alive somewhere so that he could come back to O'Neill, but he kept that part hidden as deeply as he could.

For the moment there were more important things to worry about. The settlement on 882 wouldn't last the winter without aid and it would be a long time before they could spare the manpower to scour the galaxy for any survivors from Earth. Their first priority was survival and finding the supplies and equipment to build a secure base.

After that . . . they would work something out.

***

Carter closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders to try to work some of the kinks out of her neck. When she opened her eyes again, she jumped and only just restrained a squeak of surprise at finding O'Neill standing in front of her with a mug of coffee. He gave her a faint smile and sat down across the table from her.

"Tense?" he asked.

Carter shook her head and hastily put the reports back into their manila file. "No, just tired."

He looked just as tired as he had a few hours, the dark circles under his eyes just as pronounced, although some of the lines around his mouth had eased a little. She guessed that she probably looked just as rough even though she had showered and had her hair trimmed neatly for the first time in weeks.

"Aren't you meant to be resting?" she asked.

O'Neill looked pointedly at the file in front of her and raised an eyebrow. "Sam, I believe that Daniel had a phrase about pots and kettles that he pulled out around about now."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, he did."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Looking at some reports their General Hammond wanted me to have. This SGC has made treaties with some worlds and they think that some of those people might be willing to aid us if we contact them," she explained.

"Sounds . . . promising?"

She shrugged. "We just have to hope things aren't so different that none of the addresses work or we get killed by our first choice."

"Now that's what I call confidence."

Carter sighed. "Sorry. It's been a stressful night."

"I know. Believe me, I know." O'Neill smiled faintly. "I talked to Daniel."

"Did it help?"

He shrugged.

Carter stretched and managed to pat his arm. "Was it the dream again?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Just . . . there was some extra stuff this time."

"Bad, or . . ."

O'Neill's smile was rueful. "Depends on your outlook. Seeing Daniel as a Goa'uld rates alongside seeing Daniel alive and then waking up to find he's gone again."

"I'm sorry, Jack."

He took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "When are we leaving?"

Carter was distracted by a faint disturbance as people entered the commissary and a few moments later Clarke flopped heavily into a chair next to her. The captain had a mug of coffee and a double chocolate-chip muffin and something about her seemed more relaxed than she had been for days. The lines of stress around her eyes had disappeared and her eyes sparkled with life again.

The redheaded woman took a bite from her muffin, washed it down with coffee and then fixed Carter with a hard stare. "When you look at me, do you see 'teacher'? Really, do I look like a kindergarten teacher to you?"

Carter studied her for a long moment, knowing that even if her tone was joking she was actually completely serious. The answer that she came up with was that no, she did not see Clarke as a kindergarten teacher. Her face was too severe, too tough, and her eyes had always been a little too intense to be comfortable. Clarke might not have much in height, but everything else about her shouted 'deadly'. The children would be absolutely terrified of her.

"Maybe not kindergarten," Carter said diplomatically.

Clarke nodded with a slight smile. "That's what I thought. I did a little research and apparently here I'm a kindergarten teacher in Connecticut."

"Ouch." O'Neill winced.

"It's nearly as bad as finding out that you're military here," Clarke returned, her smile widening into a full-blown grin. "Talk about your surprises."

"Apparently they're having just as much trouble believing that I'm a scientist. The other me has something of a reputation for playing dumb here."

Carter was surprised to realise that, for the first time in weeks, they were actually trading something that came close to banter. "Clarke, did Janet give you happy juice or something?"

Clarke shook her head. "Nah, I got something much better. I went to see Teal'c and he helped me meditate."

"Maybe I should try it," Carter said with a sigh.

"With all due respect, ma'am, no." Clarke kept her eyes on the muffin she was carefully extracting from its paper case. "Do you remember the last time you tried to meditate? Teal'c didn't speak to you for a week."

"Good point."

"Thank you."

Carter reflected that Clarke had actually put a good spin on it. The reality had been hours sitting on the floor staring at a candle, trying to follow Teal'c's instructions and getting frustrated when she couldn't. That had, unfortunately, led to her standing up and yelling some unrepeatable things at the Jaffa before storming away. The entire purpose of the exercise had been to relieve a persistent headache but all the meditation had achieved was to make the headache worse and her temper had frayed past the point of no return. Teal'c had politely declined all her offers to try again and Carter had decided that she just wasn't suited to meditation.

"Major, when are we going back?" Clarke asked quietly.

The only people in the commissary with them were two tired technicians in a corner and two SFs posted by the door but Carter lowered her voice anyway.

"General Hammond is giving us some supplies," she said. "He should be approving the list about now. We'll leave when the supplies are ready for us."

Clarke raised both eyebrows. "No shit, really? Do you know what they're giving us?"

Carter smiled. "Enough to give us a head start on surviving the winter."

"Holy cr- . . . uh, that's great." Clarke finally remembered that she was swearing at her senior officer. "Base camp's going to be pleased."

"I hope so," Carter said. "This is the best deal we're going to manage. The odds of us finding a reality where a specific combination of over a hundred people don't exist are . . . too high to calculate."

Some of the spark disappeared from Clarke's eyes but she rallied quickly, faster than she would have done a day ago. "So we make the best we can of a bad situation. Those supplies are going to be f- . . . damned helpful."

"There's going to be a lot of work to do when we get back," Carter said. "It might be a good idea to get some rest while you can. We won't be leaving for a couple of hours."

Clarke slurped the rest of her coffee and balled up the paper case from her muffin. "You know, ma'am? I think I might actually be able to do that. I'll go and get those nice SFs to take me to my bed."

Carter stood and looked down at O'Neill. "Jack?"

He shook his head. "I think I'm better off here. Say 'hi' to Astor for me, huh?"

He definitely knew her too well, Carter mused. She nodded to him and set out for the infirmary.

The SFs put up no argument when she announced her destination, pacing along calmly with her and sending the elevator in the right direction. The infirmary was dimly lit and the only occupied bed was Astor's. Carter left the SFs at the door and crept quietly across the silent room. Astor looked like she was asleep and for a while Carter just stood next to the bed watching her. The girl looked tired and ill, her face pale and drawn. There was a drip feeding into one arm and a monitor flashing away next to the bed. She'd watched team members and friends in these beds often enough to know that the readings on the monitor were reassuringly stable and within the right parameters. Astor's temperature was a little high, not surprising for a woman with a respiratory infection, but not dangerous. It would be hard to say goodbye to someone she had commanded and watched over for two years but Carter hoped that knowing that Astor was somewhere better would help. It hadn't helped in her grief for the friends and family who died on Earth but maybe knowing where Astor was going to be would make it different.

There wasn't an ounce of doubt about what Astor was going to choose. If their situations had been reversed, Carter suspected that she might choose the same thing.

Eventually Astor stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

Carter smiled down at her. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

Astor shrugged and tried to sit up. She let Carter help her but it was obvious that she was embarrassed to be showing weakness in front of her commanding officer.

"I'll be fine, ma'am," she said, her voice croaking slightly.

"Good. That's . . . good," Carter said lamely.

"General Hammond talked to me a little while ago," Astor said reluctantly. "He thinks that arrangements can be made. The Air Force might even be able to tell my family that I'm alive, if they can come up with a good enough explanation for why they gave them a body to bury."

Carter managed to smile. "That's great, Astor."

"You aren't disappointed?"

"No, of course I'm not."

"It's just that I'm so scared and . . . I miss everyone here so much."

"I know. I think we'd all make the same choice if it was open."

Astor smiled tremulously. "You'll tell the others?"

"They'll be here to say goodbye soon," Carter replied.

"I'm not sure . . . I . . . thank you, ma'am."

Carter took her hand and squeezed it firmly. "Take care of yourself. You've got a second chance and you should use it."

"I will, ma'am," Astor promised fervently. "I will."

"I have to . . . um, there are things I should . . ." Carter trailed off.

"Goodbye."

Astor squeezed her hand again and released it. Carter nodded to her, took a deep breath to collect herself, and smiled.

"Goodbye."

The SFs joined her at the door and trailed her to the elevator and then up to Hammond's office.

***

Jack felt lousy. He had tossed and turned, sometimes dozing but mostly awake, until the bunk had begun squeaking in protest at every movement. His head felt fuzzy and achy, his eyes were gritty and he was still no closer to thinking about the situation with Daniel than he had been five days ago. The commissary beckoned and he barely noticed the SFs stationed outside. He was more interested in getting the strongest cup of coffee possible in hopes that the shocking taste of the tar-like stuff would wake him up.

He surfaced from the coffee mug feeling slightly more awake, refilled it and looked around for a table. There was only one table occupied but Jack immediately shied away from sitting anywhere near that one. Unfortunately O'Neill turned, spotted him and waved him over. Of course, he could be rude and ignore him, there would be nothing odd in that behaviour, but he was intrigued to know what the hell his double could want to talk to him about. Jack poured another cup of coffee, this time from the fresh pot the staff had put out instead of the hours old stuff he was trying to drink, and wandered over to the table. O'Neill gestured for him to take a seat and smiled his thanks at the coffee.

"So . . ." Jack began.

"Yeah. Ah . . . so . . ." O'Neill managed.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that the best you can do? Aren't you meant to be the physicist?"

O'Neill shrugged. "If you want coherence then talk to Daniel."

Ah. Jack began to have a sneaking feeling about where this conversation might be leading. "Thanks, but he keeps telling me that if someone wants to talk to me then I should listen. So talk."

"Six years and you finally started listening to him. I can see where you reputation comes from."

Jack grinned. "I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes."

"Well that's crap and we both know it."

"You've blown my cover right out of the water, you know that?"

O'Neill shook his head. "You were pretty thorough. I think everyone will be attributing me to a freak of nature - trust me, you've got nothing to worry about."

Jack took a sip of his coffee and grimaced at the intense, bitter taste. How did Daniel stomach the stuff this strong? He emptied a couple of sachets of sugar into it, hesitated, and added another before stirring it. The taste was a little better although he would not be drinking it that strong again without a good reason.

"I talked to your Daniel," O'Neill said eventually.

"I know."

"You're a complete putz, you know that, right?" O'Neill said. "I'm struggling for words to express just how screwed up you are."

"I know."

"Maybe you could have fucked up worse - maybe - but you would have had to really work at it."

Jack glared. "I know."

"So, got any ideas about how you're going to fix it?"

"None that would actually work."

"How about talking to him?"

"Easy for you to say," Jack mumbled.

"You've done the hard part already. Why the hell are you 'thinking'?" His voice dripped with inverted commas. "What could there possibly be to think about? You've both got the feelings right - Christ, the moment I thought that my Daniel might possibly have feelings for me, that was it."

"He never stood a chance?"

O'Neill shrugged modestly. "Something like that."

Jack stared at the surface of his coffee, idly noting the oil slick that turned the fluorescent lights into faint iridescent colours. Talking to this man would be . . . huh, it would be like talking to himself. Maybe if he couldn't think to himself then he could at least talk to himself.

O'Neill was still watching him when Jack looked up and he almost backed away. It would be the easier thing to do. He could find plenty of excuses in his head - O'Neill was tired, he was grieving, he did not need Jack's problems on top of his own - but one thing kept coming back to him.

Even though he could block Daniel's feelings out and mute his presence in his mind, Jack could read his friend's body language and he knew that his continued silence was making Daniel miserable.

Jack checked to make sure that no one was within hearing range, leaned across the table and lowered his voice. "Do you have a 'Don't ask, don't tell' rule in your universe?"

O'Neill nodded and a moment later realisation dawned in his eyes. "You aren't sure Daniel is worth the risk?"

Jack shook his head quickly. "No, no. He's worth the risk. But I'm . . . stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Every time I try to think about . . . stuff . . . something cuts me off. It's like I've trained myself so well not to think about it that now I can't."

"That could be a problem."

Jack shot the man a dirty look. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"My, pissy aren't we?"

He only just stopped the growl that wanted to escape his throat and the urge to throttle the grinning loon across the table made his fingers shake. "If you're just going to laugh . . ."

"Sorry." O'Neill seemed to shake himself and settle down. "Why don't you try talking to Daniel? If he's anything like my Daniel, then he's already been there and he'll be able to help you."

"That's exactly why I can't talk to Daniel."

"Wh-?"

With exaggerated patience, Jack said, "Aren't you meant to be the bright one here? Daniel is the reason my head feels like it's going to explode. He's going to be a bit biased about how I sort this all out so I can't talk to him."

"Ask yourself two simple questions: would Daniel be talking you into anything that you don't already want and would Daniel ever try to talk you into something that he thought wasn't right for you?"

Jack opened his mouth to retort and realised that he had no idea what he was going to say. His immediate responses to the questions were 'no' and 'no'.

"You've been over-thinking this," O'Neill said quietly, all the sarcasm leaving his voice. "Or at least, you've been trying to. You're making it too complicated. If he's worth it and your feelings are real, then why not let him help you with the rest?"

Again Jack felt words desert him. It was irritating to watch another 'him' smugly tell him all the things he should have worked out days ago. The urge to throttle him was slowly creeping up again.

Finally he found words. "You know, I really don't like you."

O'Neill nodded. "Can't say I'm too keen on you myself. What the hell does Daniel see in you?"

"Beats me."

They sat in silence for a while. Jack wouldn't describe it as companionable silence, more like resentfully tolerant of each other's presence, and eventually they both decided that it had been long enough.

"Piece of advice for you," Jack said. "Daniel's a smart guy. The Goa'uld wouldn't pass up a chance to get someone like him as a host. If you care about your Daniel as much as you claim to, then don't give up on him yet."

"Our medics never found a way to extract a Goa'uld without killing the host."

"There are folks out there who have," Jack told him seriously. "Carter should be getting a list of our allies. If you can't find anyone on your side of the mirror who's willing to help, remember that we might be able to."

"Do you think there's any chance that I'll find him again?"

Jack smiled. "Daniel's strong. Don't rule anything out."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"I'm gonna . . ." Jack picked his mug up and gestured vaguely towards the door.

"Fine." O'Neill held up his mug. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime."

***

Carter stood at the bottom of the Gate ramp and surveyed the room. It was filled with a line of six heavily packed FREDs and the members of the two teams, SG-3 and SG-5, who would be accompanying her back to the quantum mirror. Daniel, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill were standing against the wall out of the way of bustling technicians, having already said their goodbyes to her team. Clarke and her Jack were using the excuse of checking out the supplies to hide the tears in their eyes. Carter could feel a heavy lump of grief in her own throat but she just swallowed it down and focused on the activity around her.

The main doors to the Gate room slid open and Carter turned expectantly. General Hammond strode through followed by the other Major Carter wheeling a cart. Carter watched the astrophysicist hand the cart to a marine and give him quick instructions for loading it onto a FRED before she walked over and cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Major."

"Major."

Sam gave her a half-smile. "General Hammond has released the Gate addresses we promised." She gave Carter two silver CDs. "They're all on here along with the contact details you read. We've included a few addresses for civilisations that have been destroyed here but the changes in your time-line . . . well, it's worth a shot."

"Thank you."

Sam glanced back at General Hammond, who nodded his encouragement. "We're also giving you a naquadah reactor. I've put a copy of my research onto the CDs. You should be able to get an interface working between the generator and your equipment. There's enough naquadah in it to provide power for two years."

A power supply? This SGC were giving them a reactor? Carter put the CDs into a pocket in her jacket. The naquadah in the generator would have to be pure, probably weapons-grade, and that meant that the SGC were potentially giving them a powerful weapon. Sam nodded and Carter promised herself that she would not fail the trust they were putting in her.

"Thank you," she said. "The winter will be a lot easier with a power supply."

Sam nodded again, reassured that if Carter had any say in it then the reactor would only be used for powering their equipment.

Carter cleared her throat. "I'm, uh, sorry about . . . you know, earlier. I shouldn't have said what I did. Things here are obviously different."

Sam shrugged. "It's ok, I understand. I'd probably have reacted the same way in your circumstances."

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a minute before they mutely shook hands and Sam joined Daniel and Teal'c a few feet away. General Hammond stepped closer and gave Carter a fatherly smile.

"I'm sorry we couldn't do more for you, Major," he said regretfully.

"I understand, sir. You've done a lot for us as it is."

Hammond did not look convinced but he let it go. "Major Carter, as soon as our teams return we will be changing all the iris codes."

"Yes, sir."

"I have been persuaded," he glanced at Sam, "that leaving the quantum mirror on P1X-768 will not bring undue danger to Earth."

So Sam wanted to study it. Carter could understand that. Maybe one day she would have the time to study her mirror. Unfortunately it would be a long time before anyone would have the time to do much research in her reality, but one day . . .

"Major Carter, good luck," Hammond said.

"Thank you, sir."

Carter reached up and hugged him before he could protest, and sighed when he tentatively returned in and patted her back. He kindly did not remark on her damp eyes when they parted, instead giving her a salute that she returned smartly. Behind her, the familiar sound of the Gate dialling began and she knew that their time in this reality was almost over.

"SG-8, you have a go to return to your reality," Hammond announced clearly.

He stepped back to join the staff from his reality that would be staying on the base and Carter was surprised to realise that everyone in the Gate room and the control room above was saluting. She returned it and out of the corner of her eye she saw Clarke follow her lead. Then the Gate opened with a loud ka-woosh and it was time to go home.

***

The briefing room was quiet when Hammond arrived. SG-1 and Doctor Fraiser were arranged in what he had come to think of as 'their' seats; Daniel and the colonel on one side with Teal'c, Major Carter and the doctor on the other. He took his seat at the head of the table and looked expectantly at Fraiser.

She immediately opened a file and just as promptly ignored it. "Lieutenant Astor will need to stay in the infirmary for a few days but there's no permanent damage. I will recommend that she receives some counselling and stays on light duties for a while but otherwise I see no reason why she can't be reintegrated into the program. In fact, it's probably the only place she'll fit in now. She's been through an incredible trauma and the people here are the only people who will ever be able to know what happened to her."

"Thank you, doctor. Keep me appraised of her progress and we'll start to work out what to do with her."

"Yes, sir."

"Major Carter?"

The major didn't even bother to open the file sitting in front of her. "I'd like to repeat my recommendation that we leave the quantum mirror on 768. I don't think that it poses Earth any risk there and it might be useful at some time in the future."

"I'll advise the Pentagon," Hammond said. "Doctor Jackson, you talked to most of our visitors. Did they give you any information that we can use?"

"No, sir." The archaeologist winced apologetically. "Our time-lines are too different. I don't think they were lying, though. Everything I saw indicated that they were telling us the truth about the fate of their Earth."

Colonel O'Neill nodded. "I picked that up, too."

Daniel flashed him a surprised, grateful look and Hammond sighed internally. Even he had picked up on their discomfort of the past few days. If they began falling out the way they had seemed to a few months ago then they could have a problem. SG-1 was his top team precisely because its members were so close to each other. The situation would bear watching for now.

"You all did good work," Hammond told them. "Your mission to P2S-4C3 will be rescheduled for a later date. Go home, people, and get some rest. You're on stand-down for the next two days."

There were quiet choruses of 'yes sir' as the team filed out. Fraiser stayed behind for a moment to tell him that she would be staying to keep an eye on Astor and then she followed them. Hammond reflected that nothing at the SGC was ever easy and then went to his office to begin work on finding a place for Astor.

***

Steady pounding woke Daniel and he spent a moment in a sleep-fuzzed fog trying to work out what the hell was making the noise. The pounding stopped and Daniel sighed with relief, turned over and tried to go back to sleep. The silence only last a minute before the banging started up again with renewed vigour. Grumbling under his breath, Daniel sat up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Someone was knocking at his door. Scratch that - someone was trying to break his door down without caring about small details like neighbours and time.

Daniel crawled out of bed and threw a robe on over his sweats. He didn't need empathy to know that there was only one man who would be hammering on his door at - he checked the clock - four in the morning. Jack O'Neill could be incredibly persistent. Daniel decided that he should probably get him inside before his neighbours called the police.

He padded through the apartment and opened the door, ducking quickly when Jack's fist nearly connected with his nose.

"Sorry!" Jack immediately apologised. "I didn't expect you to be . . ." he gestured vaguely, "um, there."

Daniel leaned against the doorjamb. "Morning Jack. Nice to see you."

Jack smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about the time. I was going to wait until later but I got restless."

Shrugging one shoulder, Daniel smiled to let him know it was fine even as he said, "I'm sure my neighbours appreciated it."

"Can I come in?"

Daniel stepped back to allow Jack in and then closed and locked the door behind him. Jack was already heading for a couch without waiting for an invitation or any sign of the hesitation and uncertainty that had been a part of him for the past few days. His presence at the edge of Daniel's mind was muted almost to invisibility but Daniel could read his body language easily. Jack had come to a decision, one he felt comfortable with, and he needed to tell Daniel about it. Bad news would have made him a lot edgier and Daniel felt himself relax for the first time since PCR-578.

"Coffee?" Daniel asked, already moving towards the kitchen.

"Sure, if you're making some."

Daniel pulled the lid off the coffee can. "If we're going to have a conversation then I need coffee. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Early?"

"That about covers it."

The coffee took a few minutes to brew but Daniel stayed by the machine watching Jack out of the corner of his eye. The colonel had taken off his leather jacket and draped it over the back of the couch before sitting down and leafing through some of the journals on the coffee table. Every minute that passed made Daniel more certain that Jack hadn't come here to announce that they should never see each other again or that they might be better off as friends.

Finally the coffee finished dripping into the jug and Daniel put jug, mugs and a carton of milk onto a tray to carry it over to the living area. He debated for a moment between sitting on the couch opposite Jack or next to him. The look in Jack's eyes convinced him. Despite the apparent confidence, Jack was terrified and needed some reassurance so Daniel put the tray down on the coffee table and sat down at the other end of Jack's couch.

"Coffee," Daniel said needlessly.

"I'd recognise it anywhere."

Daniel poured them each a mug, added a small splash of milk to his, and waited patiently. Jack had to drink half his coffee before he managed to look at Daniel.

"I have no idea what to say," he began. "I had it all worked out in my head earlier but I've forgotten it."

"I don't need fancy speeches, Jack."

"Well, that's good because I don't have any."

Daniel smiled at him. "Just talk to me."

"OK." Jack put his mug on the coffee table and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees so that he did not have to look at Daniel. "I want to be . . . ." He took a deep breath. "To be with you."

A knot of tension that Daniel hadn't even been aware of before suddenly released and he couldn't help the shaky sigh that escaped. "Good."

Jack turned his head to look at him. "Good? That's it? No heart-felt declarations? No demands for me to talk about our feelings? That's it?"

"Jack, I know that you've got some kind of problem with your feelings but we can work that out together when we're both a bit more awake."

"Oh." The colonel deflated a little and sat back on the couch. "I thought this would be harder."

"It's only as hard as you make it."

"I'm afraid that I'll screw this up," Jack said in a small voice. "That's why I waited. I don't want to do something that will hurt you."

Daniel had a feeling that his smile might be edging towards dotingly sappy. "Just don't wait so long to talk to me next time."

"Next time?"

He fixed Jack with a rueful stare. "What are the odds that we won't have a disagreement or two in the future? That's not a bet I'd put money on."

Jack shrugged. "That's a good point."

Daniel edged closer and felt another knot of tension release when Jack did the same. They were now so close that it only took a small movement for his hand to meet Jack's. He licked his lips and prayed that he wasn't about to scare Jack away.

"Do you trust me?"

Jack nodded silently.

Without further words Daniel leaned over and kissed him. It could have been a mistake but after a short pause Jack tentatively began to return the kiss. Daniel closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping the kiss tender yet passionate rather than leaping on Jack and ravishing his mouth, as he was sorely tempted to do. When he pulled away they were both breathing rapidly. Jack's eyes were closed and he appeared to be considering something carefully.

Eventually Jack opened his eyes. "Do you know how many arguments you could have prevented if you'd done that two years ago?"

Daniel collapsed back on the sofa and laughed. The last of the tension had gone with Jack's words and he knew that even though it wasn't going to be easy, they were going to be fine.

"Jack, I . . ." he trailed off as he turned his head to see that Jack's eyes were closed again.

Jack's face was relaxed, lines of tension around his eyes smoothing out, and as Daniel watched his breathing evened out into the patterns of sleep. Daniel gently trailed his knuckles down Jack's jaw.

The pale light of dawn was beginning to peek in through the windows and, despite the cup of coffee, Daniel knew that he would be joining Jack in sleep soon. It would feel good to sleep here close to Jack, but in the rational part of his mind he knew it was too soon. So he reluctantly stood up and hunted through his linen closet until he found a thick blanket. Jack protested sleepily as Daniel turned him and lifted his legs so that he was lying on the sofa with a pillow cushioning his head and the blanket draped warmly over him. It was a measure of Jack's trust and exhaustion that he allowed Daniel to do that. The archaeologist was certain that anyone else would have been nursing a broken jaw if they had tried a similar thing.

Daniel spent a moment watching his colonel sleep before making his way back to his bedroom. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

*finis*

---

On to A Cry for Help

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