A/N: Looking over Jack O'Neill's shoulder for the end of the episode Scorched Earth, and a little after. Jack hunts a weasel.
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Timing - A Scorched Earth Tag
Timing was a tough concept for Colonel Jack O'Neill. He didn't like it much. He liked to say what he wanted to say when it needed to be said. Some people—like General Hammond, he suspected—would probably have said that Jack knew nothing about restraint, at least where his mouth was concerned. But that wasn't true, actually. After nearly four years leading SG-1 and saving the world at least five times, Jack understood that sometimes things had to be said at the right time, even if the right time wasn't right when he wanted to say them. He got that. What he didn't get was why so many of the things that involved timing also involved Daniel.
"Yep… I'm gonna kill him," Jack had announced as he sat outside the main Ankaran tent, waiting with Teal'c and Carter for something—anything—to happen now that his bomb had been jettisoned. Teal'c had stared at him a little as Jack crunched the space between his hands, imagining it was not air but Daniel's head he was squeezing until all of the archaeologist's brains squished out of his ears. Carter shifted in her seat on the wide timber beam, which had been left outside the tent as a bench.
"Sir, he was just doing what he thought was right."
Jack lifted one hand. "Major—don't want to hear it. I told him not to be on that ship, and he went right up to that ship." Jack shifted his pantomime until he was crushing the ship instead of Daniel's imaginary head. "And the second he gets back," he repeated, "I'm going to kill him."
Carter winced and looked away. Teal'c only raised an eyebrow. Jack knew they took him for a joker, and he was most of the time. What he didn't tell them was that he was really fucking angry—so angry he was seeing a haze of black in his periphery—and that he meant every word. The second Daniel's feet were back on solid ground, he was going to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until the younger man either swore never to do it again or shook into pieces. Right at that moment, he didn't care much which.
Of course he didn't get to do what he wanted right when Daniel came back—that damn timing thing. He had to wait while the Ankarans and Daniel's new buddy Lotan made nice and then Daniel soothed everybody's ruffled feathers with some heartfelt words. Daniel was a little weasel and Jack wouldn't have put it past him to beam down in the council tent just to avoid getting yelled at. His suspicions on that front only got stronger when Daniel fled the tent as soon as world peace had been achieved, brushing past Jack with only a mumbled excuse about checking on the ship or some other baloney. Carter looked like she might go after him, but Jack motioned her back, getting all the sharp words ready as he stepped out into the sunshine.
Daniel had made his way to the center of the camp and was shaking hands with a bunch of Ankarans—his new fans, it looked like. Jack leaned back on his heels, considering how best to yell himself hoarse without raining on the world-is-saved parade and escalating an interplanetary incident. Before he came to a conclusion, Teal'c exited the tent behind him and strode across the camp, straight for Daniel.
"Hey, T, where you goin'?" Jack called. "I got dibs, remember?" When the Jaffa didn't answer or even slow down, Jack got moving, too, pushing through all the happy people toward his aggravating archaeologist.
Still, Teal'c got there first—because he had a head start, which was cheating. That, and he moved way too easily through a crowd for a guy his size. When he reached the center of the Ankaran hubbub, Teal'c bent a little and said something into Daniel's ear—something that made Daniel look in Jack's direction, blue eyes puzzled behind his glasses. Jack decided it was time to hotfoot it over there. He reached Daniel just as Teal'c melted into the crowd, so much taller than the average Ankaran that when he moved through them he looked like a floating severed head.
"Jack," Daniel greeted as his commanding officer reached him, though he sounded wary.
"Daniel," Jack returned. Then his eyes narrowed, following the wake of Teal'c's retreat through the crowd. "What did he say to you?" he asked.
Daniel's eyebrows shot up, and his eyes darted once to the right and then once to the left, every little tic suggesting a thought Jack couldn't even guess at. The archaeologist stuck his hands down into his pockets. "He said that whatever you're about to say to me, you're only saying it because you care," Daniel told him, looking skeptical. When a moment passed without a response, he blinked, shrugging. "What, stole your thunder?"
Jack worked his tongue against his teeth.
"I want to crush your head," he said in a neutral tone, locking stares with Daniel. Daniel's eyebrows rose and fell a few more times, matching the motion of his eyes as he glanced around at the Ankarans.
"Okay," he said finally, drawing out the word. "I have witnesses."
Jack pressed his lips together in a forced smile. "Yes… you do, don't you?" he conceded. Then he slung an arm around Daniel's shoulders, half-leading and half-dragging him toward the edge of the camp. "Let's take a walk."
"Jack," Daniel repeated, the name itself a question. Jack patted his vest but said nothing—he was saving all the words until he was out of earshot.
If the right time didn't come along, sometimes you had to make time. And Jack O'Neill strongly believed in making time for the important things.