Title: Sub rosa
Author: Major Clanger
Email: majclanger@aol.com
Category: POV (several)/Missing Scene/Epilogue (Season 3 – 100 Days)
Pairing: none (except what there is in the episode)
Spoilers: Season 1: Cold Lazarus (very tiny one). Season 2: Out of Mind. Season 3: 100 Days, Forever in a Day, Past and Present (tiny one), S3 Into The Fire. Heck, there are a whole bunch of titchy spoilers in here.
Season: 3
Rating: PG-13

Warning: none – oh okay. There is mention of Jack and Laira. A lot of mention of Jack and Laira, which upsets some sensitive souls. But I haven't added anything that wasn't in the episode, just my usual sideways spin.

Status: Complete
Summary: Jack is stranded on Edora. Sam is constructing the means to get him back. Daniel observes what happens after Jack is rescued. Teal'c raises his eyebrow. General Hammond despairs of it all.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and it's characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. Actually, now it belongs to the Sci-Fi channel I believe. These stories are for entertainment purposes only, and no money exchanged hands. Really. Honestly. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and stories are the property of the author. That is me, and I write under the name of "Major Clanger" for reasons that are unclear, even to me. These stories may not be posted elsewhere without my consent, although if you really want to, you could send me an e-mail and ask. After you get the smelling salts under my nose, I'll probably say "yes".
Author's notes: The ep that spawned a million fics and a gazillion discussions on BBS all over the internet. I'm fascinated by the way Laira is demonised by some fans and barely registers on the scanners of others. One of the things that has fascinated me in the reaction to this episonde is the absolute outraged indignant morality of some people who think that Jack (or any other member of SG-1) shouldn't have a sex life. I'm starting to foam at the mouth now, so I'll get off the soapbox and say: this turned out to be a ship fic, despite my protestations that there is no such thing. So, as the GateWorlders – some of them – say: Ship Happens. Apparently.

As to why I wrote this... *points finger* Blame her. Yep, Feli. She made me do it.

And yet again: many many thanks to Kat-the-wonder-Beta. Yes, she puts up with my horrible punctuation, knows where I was heading when I forgot to finish a sentence and patiently endures the fact that my spellchecker is German and, therefore, less use than a chocolate fireguard. Thanks Kat!

Finally, this fic is dedicated to the dedicated but misguided band of people who think that Jack sniffed Sam's hair. Be told people: he didn't!!

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If it were Daniel here and not me, he'd be keeping a journal. Recording details of every aspect of living here, investigating the caves, researching anecdotal evidence of the 'Fire Rain', making comments about the minutiae of everyday Edoran life... Breaking every female heart in the village.

Well... that came out all wrong.

It's incredible. Even an old guy like me can become so used to the backspace key that he's given up thinking before he writes. I guess I'm going to have to be more careful about using up my supply of paper.

Let me rephrase that.

If Daniel were here, he would be unconsciously breaking every female heart. He would be doing 'his thing', totally unaware of the way they would be looking at him, of the way that they would be calculating how best to attract him. The best way of getting his genes into their small pool.

He would be oblivious. Sure, he'd be nice to them, he might even fall for one of them. But since Kira he's been so careful not to fall heavily, that it's almost painful to watch. The worst of it is, he'd make a great husband for one of Edoran women.

I guess I'm not such a bad prospect, or else I wouldn't be here. Here meaning, sitting at Laira's dining table in the middle of the night.

Against all the odds, I've decided to keep a journal.

It didn't start as a journal of course. It started as... I haven't a clue what it started as. I felt the need to communicate with someone. Someone who understands me. Understands what I do, what drives me. What frightens me. And of course there isn't anyone here who has a slightest idea. How could they? So, I guess, I'm writing this to myself.

I've come to realise that I have to accept that my future is slightly different than the future I may, or may not, have had if I hadn't been stranded on Edora. Laira wants a child. My child. And how can I deny her, when it is my fault that half the people who should be here rebuilding the village are stuck on Earth. And if Laira is going to have my child, then I have to be here for her. For both of them. For me too.

Part of me has always assumed that I would die with my boots on.

Oh. Now I have to explain that I guess, just in case I ever decide to show this to someone. Or if, in the distant future, Edoran archaeologists dig it up and use it to demonstrate something or other. It's an old Earth saying. More specifically it's an old Earth soldiers' saying. 'Bury me in my boots' – soldiers like to go down fighting, not die of old age, peacefully in their beds. Makepeace and his marines would have a laugh at me calling myself a soldier but they know deep down I'm more soldier than anything else.

Shit. I never thought I'd miss the marines calling me Flyboy. And worse.

I never really believed in that whole retiring to Minnesota thing, despite the fact that the bass are ... well you can't see it, but imagine me with... okay, there are no photographs of me so this isn't going to be easy. Imagine a man who is just over 6 feet tall. That's me. I have my hands in front of me, about a shoulder width apart. That's how big the bass are. Really. I never brought one home, always throw 'em back you know. Honest.

That was a little 'topic drift' as General Hammond might have said.

So, it's my fault that this village doesn't have its full complement of inhabitants. Okay, so some would have been – were – killed in the meteor storm.

I can't call it 'Fire Rain'. That sounds so harmless. Not the expression I'd pick to describe huge chunks of rock landing all over the place. Powerful enough to bury the Stargate for crying out loud. It is, therefore, as a lawyer might say, incumbent on me to help rebuild this place. That means an investment of time and effort.

It's strangely satisfying to have to do this: Like wearing a hair-shirt to show I'm really repentant.

The first time I realised that I'd even have to make my own tools, manufacture the nails as well as cutting the timber to make a house was a revelation. For the first time since… well since before Charlie died, I can look at something and be proud of what I made. There isn't any thinking to be done, apart from the best way to put the thing together so it won't fall down again in the first gust of wind. No planning. No wondering if the wood is going to form an alliance with the stone and form a counter attack. No wondering if the nails are pursuing their own agenda and won't co-operate unless I give them a little more room to manoeuvre.

Of course, there is also no Carter to tell me that I could do the thing in half the time, and make it twice as strong if I would re-arrange the way I have the planks laid out. No Daniel to tell me that the design of the houses reminds him of something he saw on a dig in Outer Mongolia, and isn't it fascinating how the yaks' dung reinforces the mud to totally waterproof it. No Teal'c to raise a silent eyebrow at my attempts, safe in the knowledge that he could do the job twice as well in half the time. Just by giving the materials one of his stern gazes.

Jeez. I miss them.

All of them.

I even miss Doc Frasier jabbing me more often than is necessary because she's conducting some fiendish, secret experiment of her own. Not that much, I admit, but I do miss her.

I wonder how Cassie is?

I'm rambling now. And wasting lamp oil most likely. So I guess I'd better stop.

I don't want to go back to bed. Not just yet. I'm wide awake. Well, who wouldn't be? I've had a skinfull of that moonshine.

Oh and let me state for the record, just to make it official, that this moonshine is even more disgusting than the stuff Daniel taught the kids on Abydos to make. Way more disgusting.

Still wide awake here.

A shitload of disgusting moonshine. And then there was Laira.

Don't get me wrong, she was the one who dropped the 'I want your baby' bombshell but I didn't exactly tell her to get lost. It's been so long since I could be close to someone like that without any complications. Usually it – let's… let's not beat about the bush, it's sex I'm talking about here – is such a big deal. I have to know all about her – whoever she is – then I have to evade all the usual questions. It's not worth the effort.

I'd already been thinking about, well... things. I can spend my time here just waiting to be rescued – with the possibility that it isn't going to happen. That way I never fully commit to this place, never get close to the people. Net result: if the SGC come through I can leave without a backward glance.

If the SGC don't come though?

So, I made a decision. I would have said something to Laira before, but then I worked out that I've been here nearly 100 days. So I thought if that's just about the accepted period of… not mourning exactly, but letting go of something, getting used to loss, then that's good enough for me. I was going to get rid of all my stuff and... well,… not the stuff that might be useful. And definitely not my cap. But all the other stuff. Although it seems stupid to throw away perfectly serviceable pants and shirts. So maybe I was going to have a symbolic bonfire of the less-than-useful stuff. And tell Laira that I wanted to make a home here.

With her.

I think Laira had already seen it in me, that I was nearly ready to commit. She started to say something earlier but stopped. Finally, I think, she could see it in me this evening, that the time is right. Probably that awful moonshine relaxed me more than it should, but I had made up my mind to tell her. Then she said she wanted me to give her a child. As though it was the most natural thing in the world. Okay, having a baby is the most natural thing in the world.

It won't take a psychic – or a psychiatrist – to work out that the first thing – maybe the second thing – I thought was that this would be a second chance for me. A second chance to try to hang on to a wife and child. Maybe even children. Something at which I had so spectacularly failed on Earth.

How could I refuse?

Heck, I'm a guy aren't I? Laira's not exactly ugly, and there had been a spark between us, mild flirting, since the first day I'd arrived on her planet with the rest of my team.

If I'm honest the previous few months hadn't been easy. Watching Daniel go through losing Sha're – really losing her, knowing that he could never have her back – made me think, a whole lot more than was good for me, about my own marriage. And inevitably that made me think about Charlie. I've had more sleepless nights than I care to remember, but since I've been here I've been too damned tired for anything other than deep, peaceful sleep. Without nightmares – although how I can think of dreams about my son as nightmares…

I rest my case, your Honour.

Charlie.

I miss him so much, and I know it's a cliché but it still hurts so bad. I think about him every day. Every time I see a blonde-haired kid, and there are a few of them here.

I had plans for the two of us. The usual, baseball, fishing, kite flying. Then the talks about girls, mutual admiration of the cheerleaders at his school. After that there would have been driving lessons, the first legal drink in a bar… Of course, this second chance isn't offering any of this, but still the chance is there. I can finally prove to myself that I can be a good father. That I can bring a child into the world and see him, or her – I'd kind of like a little girl – grow up and… well, you know. Grow up and do whatever it is that grown-ups do round here.

I haven't told Laira about Charlie yet. I guess I should, that way she'll know... whatever.

Sleeping with Laira was… well, I'm not the sort of guy who awards a score… I suppose I should say 'making love' to boost my New Man credentials, although I'm not sure there are too many of those round here. I'm not really sure that I do love her though. Not the real thing. Oh, sure, I like her a lot. Like, respect, admire… but she doesn't exactly set my world on fire.

Since I'm being honest here, I'm not sure that there has ever been a woman who does that for me.

Is that totally honest?

Maybe.

I think I was building up to something – I've never been one for rushing at these things – but I don't know about it. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go with my feelings on this, so I've been kind of pushing them down and trying to ignore them. Difficult though. I mean it would help if Carter were plug ugly, but that's so far from the case that it's almost funny. Only almost, though. I'm ashamed to admit that for a short time tonight I closed my eyes and it was her I was kissing and not Laira.

I'm a Class 1 Shit.

That's an awful thing to do to somone, to both of them. I know that Carter has feelings for me, she can't keep it out of her eyes sometimes. Such expressive eyes, they really are the windows to her soul. Sometimes I'll do something that she doesn't approve of and there it is in her eyes that I've disappointed her. Let her down.

Other times there is relief, that I'm alive and in one piece. I feel the same way about her when we get out of a tight spot, but I try not to let it show.

Although there was that time when we were stuck in Hathor's place. That mock-up of the SGC was frighteningly real. I really don't want to think about the type of memory that can recreate that much detail from one short visit. Carter and I were on the run, so I guess the adrenaline was pumping more than usual. But there was something else, testosterone probably, that wanted to make sure that Sam Carter was safe.

At one point we were squashed behind a wall. I was behind her, pulling her very close because she was still woozy and I didn't want her falling over and giving us away.

See, I keep telling myself that. So why is it then, that whenever I think about that particular episode – and I think of it more often than I should... where was I? Oh yes. How come even now I can instantly recall the smell of her shampoo? Don't get me wrong, I wasn't deliberately sniffing her hair, it's just how we were standing and her head does come up to my nose. It was warm in that fake SGC. Sam's hair – how the heck can I refer to her as Carter when I'm talking about getting up-close and personal with my favourite woman – smelled slightly sweet. There was also an indefinable Sam smell in there too...

Jeez. This is getting like something I should be talking about on Oprah or Rikki Lake or something. Or maybe Carter should go on the "Help! My boss has a hair sniffing fetish!" show.

Laira's hair smelled different. Of course it was different. There's no L'Oréal here. The women here use a herbal infusion here to keep their hair clean. As far as I can tell the men just dunk their heads in a barrel of water once a month. Not that Laira isn't worth it.

She's just not Sam.

I had to stop there for a while. The thought of never seeing another hockey game, drinking an ice-cold Bud and eating pizza while I watch a game on my wide-screen tv is bad enough. Never seeing Daniel and Teal'c, Frasier and Cassie, heck even ol' Hmmond is almost too much to think about. But never seeing Carter again? It's chewing away at my gut, and somehow I have to stop it before Laira notices.

Before it becomes so unbearable that I finally do what I wanted to after Charlie died.

Am I really stooping so low that I'd eat lead rather than face a Carter-less future? What if Laira is pregnant? It would be about 3 hours along now, I'm sure Frasier could tell me how many cells it's split into at this stage. I'd be leaving her alone with a baby, knowing that even though the Edorans are slowly coming to accept me, this would be yet another act of betrayal. I can't do it.

Okay Flyboy. This is how it's going to be from now on:

Rule number one: No more thinking about Carter.

Rule number two: Apply yourself to becoming an Edoran.

Rule number three: No more thinking about Carter.

Rule number four: Apply yourself to being the best husband that Laira could wish for, and be grateful she still wants you after you persuaded most of her fellow villagers to go to Earth.

Rule number five: No more thinking about Carter…

It's not going to work. It's like toothache, the more you try not to think about it the more you have to poke the painful tooth with your tongue. I might as well ask myself not to breathe.

How the hell did I let it get this far? To be fair to myself there are good reasons for thinking about Carter. Assuming that she wasn't buried with the gate – because if I believed that I would still be out there digging – she's at the SGC right now, working out a way to get back here. She's probably nagged her dad half to death to get one of his snakey friends to come and get me.

What if she isn't?

General Hammond is a practical man. As long as there is some hope that they can somehow reconnect to the gate here, he'll support their efforts. But there has to come a time when he says 'Okay, folks, O'Neill is MIA.' Or worse. Carter will be the one persuading Daniel that it's the right decision to make, and he'll be looking at her as though she's a heard hearted, callous bitch. Even while he understands that it is how things have to be.

No!

Carter has feelings for me. She'll be doing everything in her power, and a lot more besides, to get back to Edora. I hope she remembers that she has to eat and sleep to survive. The doc is her friend, she'll make sure she's okay. I'm certain of that.

I miss her. I have to face the possibility that I'm going to die without ever having told her how I feel about her.

But... She's committed to her job, to the Air Force. Maybe it wouldn't be fair of me to say something? Perhaps it's just as well I haven't already.

I have to look to the future here. The immediate as well as the long term future. In the morning, after Garen has gone off doing whatever it is he does all day, I'll tell Laira that it's my turn to let go of the past. That will make her happy. She might even believe me.

Really. I'm going to do it.

I'm too old to go chasing around the universe anyway. Way too old. It's time for me to retire. Move on. Put the past behind me. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.

Rule number six: No more clichés.

Bra'tac is way older than me. A hundred and thirty-odd? He's still chasing around the universe...

Sam is going to come through for me. One day we're going to be sitting around discussing the harvest and all of a sudden SG-1 are going to appear. And I'll have to look Sam in the face and she'll know that I've been unfaithful to her.

Unfaithful! And we're not even having a relationship. Heck, I've never even told her that I like her, let alone that I love her.

I love Samantha Carter.

It hurts a lot.

I've spent about fifteen minutes looking out of the window. There wasn't much to see, it's too cloudy for stars and anyway, I don't like the constellations here. That's too harsh, I don't know them, they're not the ones I know from home. The dark-comfort blanket of the Earth's sky is something I may never see again. If I close my eyes and turn my face upwards I can see them all.

As part of my new start I'll have to give these stars a fair chance. And there are so many of them. There's no light-pollution here.

Wish I had my telescope. Maybe I can make one...

Sam is going to come through for me.

And when she does... What then?

Then: nothing. That's what. Situation normal. Yeah. Situation normal all f... yep. That about sums it up.

But while I was staring into space, literally, I was thinking about Sam. What else? It's not fair to say anything to her that I couldn't say in front of the General. I'm sure I'm right that she has feelings for me, but if she hasn't acted on them or said anything up to now, she must have her reasons. Unless it's all in my head.

Here it is: the revised plan of my future life. While I'm here on Edora I'll be everything Laira wants me to be, and if that includes husband or lover and father of her child then that's what I'll do. And when I see Carter I'll pretend that I only... that there isn't anything inappropriate in my feelings for her.

I think I've laid the foundations for that already. My brain must have been way ahead of the rest of the universe that first night we sat with Laira watching the goddamned 'fire rain'. As soon as I'd told Carter not to 'suck the fun' out of it, I could have bitten out my tongue. She looked really taken aback, hurt even.

Given my decision, however, it was the right thing to say. She probably thinks I don't like her at all.

Did I really say that to her? 'Don't suck the fun out of if'? Aw crap. If it hadn't been for Carter we'd all be stuck here. A whole load of the Edorans would be dead, and the person best able to dig us all out of this sh!t wouldn't be in the best place for her to do it.

It's hurting a lot now. I think I'll go back to bed and maybe I'll wake up and it was all a dream.

Now that would be a cliché, wouldn't it?!

*****

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"No." Of course it's a problem! I love him.

Thank goodness she's gone now. I can carry on with this.

I can't believe I'm committing this to paper... okay, committing this to my hard-drive. But I really need to work through this. Daniel told me that the reason he started keeping a journal was to give him someone to talk to about his parents. Typical Daniel, didn't want to offend his new foster family by talking about his real one.

I can't talk about this to anyone. Not Janet, not Dad. Especially not General Hammond. Not even Daniel, although I'm sure he'd be sympathetic. He'd also want to confront... him... with it when he comes back. But I can't do that. So this has to remain between me and my hard-drive.

The Tollan can be on Edora in around nine months from now. But that's not soon enough. He deserves to get home right now.

I love him.

Part of me wishes I'd told him that. That I'm not going to spend the rest of my life wishing I hadn't been so... well, so what? So tied to the regulations? So tied to the Air Force? I'm sure that, given the circumstances, General Hammond could have employed me here as a civilian. Daniel goes on missions all the time, why not Dr. Sam Carter?

Each time I think about that I know that I'd never do it. I fought long and hard to get recognised not just as a scientist but as an Air Force officer. Doubly damned by having a father as a General and being female. Talk about having to be twice as good!

The more practical part of me knows that I'll never tell him. Never in a million years. And not just because he's on Edora and I'm on Earth. We're very very close to having the particle beam generator ready. I'm only writing this now because I have time while I'm running a simulation on the main-frame, since  I hadn't compensated enough for the loss of heat... whatever. This is not a technical journal. It's a private one. And I'm likely to hit the delete key as soon as I've finished anyway.

Good ol' delete key.

Got to love that delete key.

I'm not going to tell him – I can't bring myself to write his name – about any of this. He deserves better than me throwing myself at him. Although I'm pretty sure he has feelings for me too. Just lately though he's been less... I can't put my finger on it, but that 'don't suck all the fun out of it' remark showed me that he's pulling back. Probably he thinks he's pushing it a bit, coming on too strong to a subordinate. I wish I could get him alone, actually  I wish I was on Edora with him. Maybe we could talk about this.

Talk! What am I thinking? He's a guy. He doesn't do talk.

But, for a while there I thought he reciprocated. When we were hiding from Hathor that time. We dodged behind a wall. He was wearing that sexy white outfit and there wasn't a whole lot of space. He held onto me so tightly, squashing me against him. I swear he was sniffing my hair! Although to be honest I don't really remember much about it, I was still a bit woozy from whatever it was Hathor did to us. The feeling of having his arms around me, being pressed up against his body like that... Is it me or is it getting warm in here?

Anyway, I'd be a bit of a fifth wheel if I was there now. I saw the way Laira was looking at him, and he didn't seem to mind at all.

That's unfair. He's... well, he would be what they call a 'good catch' I guess. Laira is a strong woman with a mind of her own. She reminded me a lot of his wife, although I only met Sara briefly that one time. But it hurts a little – okay a lot – to think that he's there with her, and I'm here busting a gut to rescue him. And all the time I'm thinking 'what if he doesn't want to be rescued?'.

Oh God. What if we get there and he's... No! I can't... I won't believe that he's dead or else I may as well give up now. I know he's alive. I know he's alive and I know that he knows we'll come through for him.

I just hope I can hold off throwing myself at him. Not embarass myself and him.

Writing this has done me some good. Helped me focus. I know what I have to do when we get back to Edora. I know we're going to get there because I've just finished running the simulations. If I'm correct, the gate is horizontal and we can use the energy beam... oh yeah, I forgot: no tech in here.

Anyway, it doesn't matter how we get there. We're going to bring him home. And as much as it hurts, I'm going to carry on as though I never had any feelings for him that I shouldn't have. It's going to hurt a lot. He's been away for over three months. That kind of isolation can do awful things to a person.

What if he doesn't want to come back?

I wasn't sure right up until this moment what my feelings are for the colonel. But now I know. The thought that he might not want to come back, that he might choose to stay away...

I love him. And it hurts.

And I still dare not say his name.

*****

Three months. A little over  three months to be more precise, and for a while I thought it wasn't going to go our way. If Laira hadn't told Jack that she'd heard something on the radio and if Jack hadn't and managed to dig Teal'c out… we'd be mourning the loss of two members of SG-1 instead of celebrating the return of its CO.

Teal'c's not showing it – not to anyone who hasn't been studying him for 3½ years – but he is ecstatic to have Jack back. Everyone is happy to see him, even the marines. I try to stay away from those guys as much as possible, but I heard that Colonel – whatever his name is – and Major Coburn making arrangements with Jack to take 'their tame flyboy out drinking'. Sounds like headache territory to me.

Among all the 'O'Neill's back eurphoria' it would be easy to miss the fact that Sam is as unhappy as I've ever seen her. When I asked her how she was, she wouldn't meet my eyes and mumbled something about all the long nights catching up with her. I speak 23 languages, so I know when someone is talking rubbish at me, but she seemed so upset that I didn't push it.

Instead I asked Janet, those two have become good friends, and I thought I might get to the bottom of it. But the Sisterhood closed ranks, and I can't get anything out of the good doctor either. It took me a while to spot it, but she was speaking rubbish too. With a remarkable degree of fluency I might add.

I've often wondered about Sam and Jack. Worried about her even. It's quite obvious that she likes Jack a lot. And he likes her. And they both know it. Obvious they are not, I only notice because I spend so much time with them, and I'm an anthropologist so I know how to look at people. Not that I study them of course, although they would be worth a paper each at least, if not a full-blown thesis.

I know about all the regulations that forbid it and, despite what Jack thinks, I don't think that it's yet another case of 'rules for rules sake' like so many of the regulations they have. I can see the sense in them, really. But I really don't see the sense in being so close to someone that you love and not ever saying something.

Jack could be right, maybe I do talk too much. Not to him unfortunately, we seem to be drifting apart lately. Come to think of it, he's drifting apart from all of us. Not just me. I don't think I'll ever forget the night of the 'fire rain' – and not just because of the meteor storm. I think I'm going to have to back-up a bit here, or else it won't make any sense. Not that anyone will read this, I have a clause in my will that these journals are to be destroyed or buried with me when I die. For keeps.

When we got to Edora it was like stepping back in time, or going to visit the Amish. Modern man has no idea how peaceful and calm pre-industrial society was. Life on Edora was pretty-much a rural idyll. We found out pretty quickly that the natives were friendly – at least, they weren't trying to kill us within five minutes of meeting us, which is better than some places we have visited. Reserved is probably the best way to describe them.

The first person we met was Garen, closely followed by his mother Laira. She and Jack hit it off right away, and I don't really think Sam noticed since she had pretty quickly established that there was an abundance of naquadah on the planet.

Jack quickly took over my usual role of 'making nice with the locals', at least as far as Laira was concerned. I had the less easy task of speaking to the others. It was fascinating. They were fairly accepting when we told them where we had come from, and the purpose of our visit. Unsophisticated people as they were, they seemed to have difficulty grasping the fact that we wanted to trade with them. It became a recurring theme during the short time I spent on Edora, but I thought we were beginning to get the message through.

And them came the evening of the 'fire rain'. The first thing I noticed was that Jack and Laira were flirting! Nothing very overt, Jack is too old and long in the tooth for that I reckon. He's also cautious around women so it surprised me somewhat that he went as far as he did. I wasn't too happy with it, but neither Sam nor Teal'c appeared bothered so I kept my peace.

Now I feel guilty for saying that. But I may as well be honest here and admit that I wasn't exactly bowled over by Laira. It could just be... I haven't a clue. It is probably just that I feel very close to Sam and I was sure that Jack was gradually moving in her direction. Metaphorically speaking.

Then he opened his big O'Neill mouth and told her to 'stop sucking the fun' out of the evening! Like the realisation that 'fire rain' was a disaster waiting to happen wouldn't? Sam noticed that alright, but she's a professional and merely made some comment about making observations. Which could have been her way of staying out of the way of the Jack and Laira show I guess.

Whatever.

Jack can be insensitive, but I'm pretty certain that he's up to something. He has been withdrawing from the team in very subtle ways. I guess if I want to keep him as a friend I'm just going to have to keep working on it. I thought we were doing quite well, so far, but I'm not sure if I want to be friends with someone who treats my other friends like that.

I appear to be getting tangled up here.

There is something he's not telling us about his time on Edora. When we went to collect him, he was very abrupt with Sam. Okay, she was talking Tech, which is a language she speaks better than English.  Jack and I managed to pick up the odd word that sounds a little like English. But even then, he was in a world of his own, then he just walked away in the middle of a sentence, leaving Sam gaping at his back while he bid Laira a fond – very fond – farewell.

Laira was devastated that he was leaving, I could see it in her face and body language. I don't know what he said to her, but she was shaking her head at Jack, then she didn't talk any more, just watched us leave. She had a resigned look about her, like she knew all along it would happen.

Probably it's because I don't really like her...

I just had a thought. I wonder if she put Garen up to going back to the caves... thinking that Jack might be stuck up there for a while with her?

Uncharitable, Daniel! Laira is a good woman who most likely stood up for Jack against the naysayers in the village. Not that he can't look after himself, but I'm sure that she had a much more diplomatic approach.

Usually I'd go to Jack and ask what it was like, I mean he had the chance to study a pre-industrial society for over three months. It's not even like living with the Amish, knowing that modern technology is out there if you can't take any more.

Jack lived in a village that doesn't even have running water. That must have affected him somehow, even if it only gave him an appreciation of inside plumbing. The thing I missed most on Abydos was soaking in a hot bath. Not something I was given to doing before I went on that first mission, but since I've got back it's become a regular treat.

One thing that did fascinate me, however, was the fact that Laira was something of a major voice in the village. Which is unusual in a society like that. The uncharitable part of me wondered if Laira saw Jack as a new Alpha Male on the block...

So when did I get so cynical? I guess I've been hanging around military types too much. Although I've never heard Sam say anything like that. The conclusion has to be drawn then that I've been spending too much time around Jack. That looks like it's changing anyway, so perhaps it's time I went out and got a life. Maybe I should just cut loose and go back to... well where? I mean, my last presentation to my archaeological so-called colleagues ended in me talking to an empty hall. Not a total wash-out of course, because it's where I met Catherine, but I can't go back to that.

I can't go back.

I wonder if I would have been so keen to accept Catherine's offer if I had known where it would lead? Dumb question I guess, the answer is a resounding yes.

I can't leave in any case. I made a promise to... I can't say her name. My wife.

Thinking about my wife hurts too much. If I concentrate on finding her child then I won't think too much about her, I hope. There's this nagging thought in the back of my head saying 'What then? What when you've found him?' and I'm trying to ignore it, only it's getting louder and louder and more and more insistent.

There really is no option, is there? I'm going to be here at the SGC until I die. And what then?

Pondering the 'what comes after death?' is for the middle of the night when I'm alone. Well, I'm alone right now but the reason I'm writing all this is to try to make some sense out of what is happening to SG-1. I want to shake Jack until he sees sense. I want to hug Sam until she knows that she is loved and wanted and valued – even though I'm not the one that she wants the validation from.

It's a mess.

*****

The Tollan and The Asgard are putting pressure on us. I managed to put them off a little, while Colonel O'Neill was trapped on Edora, but now that he's back we're running out of time.

I had a semi-formed idea in the back of my mind for a few days before he finally returned. It isn't going to be easy, but he is committed to this organisation and I know that he will agree. Even if it puts his life in danger.

Especially if it puts his life in danger.

Major Carter worked hard, too hard – and more fool me I let her – to build the particle beam generator. Partly I let her finish it because it may come in useful in the future.

She holds her CO in very high regard, there is nothing that anyone could use against them but I'm sure that there is more to their relationship than meets the eye. It is this more than anything that is making me approach O'Neill tomorrow to tell him of the problem that the Tollan and Asgard have presented us with.

He's been back a week, and it's time to get him back on duty. Now is a good time anyway, fits in well with the scenario we are going to present. SG-1 has been without him for more than three months, and as far as I can tell there haven't exactly been all night parties at his house celebrating his return.

Teal'c doesn't show it, I wish I could discover the secret of his calmness. Maybe I should learn some of his Kel-no-reem techniques. Doctor Jackson has a distracted air about him. He seems almost disappointed, like a kid that was expecting a bike for Christmas and got a book. In his case I expect he always wanted books and had to settle for a bike though.

Major Carter is giving me some cause for concern however. I had thought that once her machine worked that she would lighten up a little, but if anything she is more disturbed now.

Yes. It is now a good time for us to set our plan into action. The team dynamic is out of synch anyway.

The biggest problem I have now is who can take over as CO of SG-1? There is only one other Colonel on active duty at the SGC, so I guess Makepeace is the man. Although I can't imagine how it will work out. Right now I'm more bothered about getting to the bottom of the stolen technology.

Then I can work on building up the morale of my flagship team.

~the end~