Returning to his house for the first time in a month, exhausted and feeling rather battered from the recent SGC mission to P4X-something or other, Jack O'Neill still knew even before he stepped into the darkened living room that he wasn't alone.
It wasn't anything he saw or heard; it was just a feeling, a stirring of long-buried and almost forgotten instincts that let him know that despite the silence, he wasn't the only being in the room.
Considering that he'd just gotten back from an extremely tiring mission that had nearly gone to hell in a hand-basket if not for the timely intervention of SG-4 and some really quick talking on all their parts, he really wasn't in the mood to be ambushed in his own house. He didn't even bother reaching to flip the light switch, knowing where everything was despite the thick shadows covering the room, broken only by the sparse beams of moonlight slipping between the cracks in the closed curtain.
The colonel sighed wearily, asking the empty air rhetorically, "Whoever you are, can you at least wait to attack me until I take my coat off?" He was sweaty and covered in dirt and other miscellaneous grime from the nearly-disastrous mission to P4X-something, and his back was starting to itch like crazy as the sweat dried.
A sinister chuckle and a low, sardonic voice answered him, "But of course, I would not want to be rude, after all."
"Why thank you, it's so kind of you to let me make myself comfortable in my own home." Jack couldn't resist snapping as he shrugged out of his dirty coat, tossing it in the general direction of one of his chairs. "And while we're on that subject, why exactly did you sneak in here and make yourself at home?" He asked pointedly as he rolled his shoulders to try and loosen his stiff muscles, not bothering to disarm himself even if none of his usual weapons would work on this particular trespasser.
Outside, the moon changed position enough that the angle of the moonbeams through the curtains shifted, the shaft of light illuminating the upper body of his uninvited guest, revealing a pale face that sported a black mark (almost like a tattoo) in the middle of its' forehead, and a waterfall of hair. Styled robes in black and white adorned the trespasser's masculine form, though combined with the nearly floor-length mane of red hair and glinting amber eyes and Jack recognized the intruder.
He really wished he didn't.
Silence stretched out as those aforementioned amber eyes peered at the colonel through the darkness as the moonlight faded, leaving them both in shadows. Minutes passed as Jack grew impatient; he was tired, sore, and in desperate need of a shower, and he wasn't in any mood to play games with someone who apparently made a habit of breaking and entering (not that he was ever in the mood for mind-games, but that was neither here nor there).
The quiet went on for another few minutes before Colonel O'Neill demanded stiffly, "Well, Homurabi?"
So named, the King of the Shin smiled thinly, practically oozing insincerity as he asked, "Whatever do you mean? Can I not simply stop in to say hello?"
"No." The answer snapped out, his tone clearly saying that he didn't believe one word out of the Shin's mouth for a minute. And he had every right not to trust the red-haired Shin, all things considered, seeing as Homurabi had only seized what power he had through betrayal and the resulting chaos that afflicted the worlds of light and shadows.
Homurabi dropped the nonchalant act, though the thin smile stayed on his face as the Shin said, "As much as I would like to be offended, you are correct in that this is not a social call."
Jack snorted under his breath, moving to perch on the arm of one of the other chairs (he absently noted that the one Homurabi had chosen to sit in was the one that Daniel often claimed whenever the archaeologist came over. As if he didn't already have enough reasons to be pissed off about the Shin showing up in his house) so he could start unlacing his boots. If he was going to have to suffer through this conversation, he was going to be comfortable for it; there was a clump of mud between his toes that was threatening to rub them raw, and he wasn't going to put up with that in addition to listening to whatever it was that the King of Shin wanted to say to him.
A slight frown was all the indication that Homurabi gave that he had noted that the colonel was only partially paying attention to him, but then the expression smoothed out and the king started speaking again, "You know of the war, I presume." It wasn't a question. The colonel nodded slightly as though it was while he shook loose clods of dirt out of his boots into a pile on the floor in front of it (it would be a bitch to clean up, but whatever).
Jack didn't even bother to answer that – of course he knew about the coup that Homurabi had pulled to gain power, banishing the direct king of Shadows in the process and claiming that position for himself. He held his tongue, wanting the red-haired Shin to just get to the point and then leave.
Homurabi evidently hadn't been expecting an answer, because he continued talking without missing a beat, "I wish for you….Jack," The Shin's lips twisted in disgust as he spoke the name the colonel had been going by for the entirety of his mortal life, "to join my forces – with your experience with how humans think and your understanding of their motives, you would practically ensure my victory in the coming battle. I assure you that you will be greatly rewarded for your trouble."
The colonel hardly even waited for Homurabi to finish his proposal before saying, "No." The tone rang loudly of finality. "I left the Shin for a reason, Homurabi, and no way in hell am I going to join up with you just to see more of that same reason." He barked a short, sarcastic laugh as he uttered, "I've got enough of my own problems, and I'm not going to borrow anyone else's, got it?"
Clearly that hadn't been the response Homurabi had been expecting, but Jack had meant every word. He had left the Shadow World for a reason, and he wasn't going back just to help a traitor-king like Homurabi. He had heard whispers of the banished direct king gathering his power, but he wasn't going to believe that until he had some proof. And like he'd said, he had his own problems to deal with without getting involved in Shin politics again. With all the missions' off-world coming up and the new planets to be explored, he wouldn't have the time.
"You were a Shin, Jack O'Neill, and if you agree to help me, you will be again." Homurabi was adamant, that much was clear, but the colonel merely looked at the robe-clad king.
"But I'm not anymore, Homurabi, and that's all there is to it." Jack belatedly set his boots down beside his chair, hoping that he wouldn't but knowing the Shin would try to press the issue. His heritage (if it could be called that) wasn't something he was proud of, and as far as he was concerned he was just a regular human (if 'regular' meant joining the military, then Black Ops, then joining Stargate Command as the leader of SG-1 and getting to explore planets most of the world had no idea even existed).
As predicted, Homurabi wove his fingers together in front of his face and asked, "Why, colonel? Why would you want to continue being human? Why choose to keep aging, to eventually die an old, shriveled man?"
Jack snorted, yeah, little chance of that happening with his current lifestyle, but instead of saying that, he told Homurabi calmly, "It's worth it. But then you wouldn't understand that, would you?" and that was the understatement of a lifetime.
Shaking his head pseudo-sadly, Homurabi smiled, a thin slash of lips sharp enough to cut stone, and commented, "That is too bad, Jack. I had hoped that you would come willingly, but it seems I will have to bring you to your senses by force." He pushed himself to his feet, but found that Jack had beaten him to it, completing the motion before he did.
Despite not wearing his boots, Jack had an air of danger around him, and his eyes were colder than the arctic as he whispered, "Don't even think about it, Homurabi. You try anything, anything at all to make me turn back into a Shin…and you won't like the result." And even though he was standing toe-to-toe with the king of the Shin in filthy clothes, no shoes, and with grime covering almost every inch of his skin, there was a dark aura coming off of Jack in waves. It was a cold, frightening air, and around the room the myriad of shadows actually seemed to ripple in response to his chilled anger.
O'Neill knew Homurabi, as much as he wished he didn't, and the Shin king wouldn't hesitate to hurt innocent people to get what he wanted – in fact the Shadow would relish it. If the Shin found out about his team, who knew what he would try to do to Daniel, Carter, or Teal'c? Jack wasn't about to give him the chance to find out, and the colonel's eyes narrowed as he took a single step forward. The air around him grew even darker, and the darkness surrounding the two of them moved unnaturally. He wasn't a Shin now, but he had been, and the Shadows answered the call of his anger.
Homurabi flinched back almost instinctively from the lethal gleam in Jack's eyes. A few tense moments passed, and the red-haired Shadow knew that the former Shin in front of him wasn't joking. Gritting his teeth behind closed lips, the king's amber eyes narrowed as he straightened his back, backing up a step as though he had intended to do that all along, and he kept his hands visibly by his sides as he said, "Very well, if you are absolutely sure you want to live a pathetic human life, then you may do so. But if you ever come to your senses, you know how to find me." With those parting words, the Shin king's edges seemed to waver, becoming indistinct shadows as the once-solid form shimmered and faded away.
The King of Shadows knew better than to pick a fight with this particular Shin, even if he was human…
Author's note: And there's my next bit of random insanity, I hope you all enjoyed it. I may write a small epilogue if enough people ask about it, but otherwise that seemed like a good place to end it. ^.^ And that's one plot bunny down!
