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Author's note: For anyone who has read and enjoyed Kwaidan, this story continues Daniel's relationship with Sophia.
I would suggest reading that story first.
Hidden
Jo Taylor
The sun was beginning to go down as the call to evening prayer began. Gratefully the workers downed tools and knelt on the ground to give thanks for all that they had. Around them, the foundations of the new hotel were beginning to take shape. Now that the annual flood was a thing of the past, controlled by the mighty Aswan dam, buildings could be erected on the edge of the Nile and much needed tourist money be welcomed into the economy.
In the last rays of the falling sun, Mohammed looked out over the site, his eyes sliding from the stack of materials piled high to deep pits waiting to be filled. The area suitable to build on was hemmed in on three sides by the wind driven sand of the desert, they had dug long and hard to find a stable area on which to set the building and cleared many tons of sand in the process. The wind gusted up again, a last breeze before falling still for the night, and as he watched the golden sand swirl he saw something emerge from the gloom. Taking up his torch he made his way carefully past the perimeter and knelt beside the object. Mud brick met his gaze: a perfectly preserved block. Gently his hand cleared away more of the sand revealing a line of bricks. The remains of a workman's hut, he thought, nothing that would cause any delay to the hotel's completion. As he worked, a large piece of limestone reflected back his torch's steady beam.
Deep below the surface a god slept, unaware that soon he would be free.
Chapter 1
Daniel pulled up in front of Sophia's house and felt some of the tension ease from his neck. These past few months, easing his way back into the SGC, had not been easy. Keeping up the façade around his team had proven a strain at times. He felt he had changed somehow, but he could not put his finger on what had gone awry within him. His one stable emotion had been the blossoming regard for Sophia, and hers for him. Last month they had moved from friends to lovers, a decision Daniel had not taken lightly. He cared too much about her to use her for physical gratification alone, but he had been aware that he could not offer her everything she deserved: honesty.
She deserved to know why he disappeared for days at a time; deserved to know how he had acquired his scars. She never asked, though her fingers would skim the raised flesh with curious intensity at times. He longed to unburden himself to her, knowing she'd be a safe haven for anything he might say. The mission he'd just returned from blazed in his memory. God, how he wished he could talk out his feelings – sometimes he felt almost crushed by them. And then his defences would kick in, and they would be relegated to the back of his subconscious to fester.
Her car was nowhere in sight, so Daniel let himself in, enjoying the feeling of peace that settled in him. Sophia's house was not large, but there was an air of space created by the décor and the large windows that let in the late evening light. He made coffee and settled himself on the large couch. Its softness welcomed his weight and he let his head settle back for a moment. Taking a sip of his drink, Daniel's eyes drifted over the books stacked high on the coffee table. Sophia had always had an interest in ancient Egypt, but his arrival in her life had increased that ten-fold. Aided, he had to admit, by his own passion for the archaeology and the fact that he had been way too informative when they had visited the local museum.
Tiredness swept through him making his limbs feel leaden. His head felt stuffed with cotton wool, the vague memory of a migraine still lingering after he had played host to half the passengers of the Stromos. It had been a while now, yet he sometimes felt that not everything or everyone had been removed. Or, of course, it might be nothing to do with that at all.
Kicking off his shoes, Daniel laid himself out, letting his body sink into the overstuffed cushions. Sophia might be hours yet he realised, suddenly remembering that this was the evening the new Egyptian exhibition was being opened to a select few. Daniel had pulled strings and got her an invite, along with her friend Maggie, another amateur with a passion. She'd asked him to go, her soft brown eyes pulling at him but he had been due out on a mission the day before and who knew when he would be back? He couldn't let her be disappointed should he not make it back in time. She'd been disappointed anyway, because he had made excuses. Lying was not his forté, and Sophia knew him well enough now to know when he was skirting the truth.
Daniel turned his head into the cushions and let sleep take him; it did no good to dwell on his shortcomings, they were too numerous to keep track of.
He woke to the soft stroke of gentle fingers on his brow and the faint hint of perfume close to him. Sophia.
"You were frowning in your sleep," she said softly.
His eyes opened to find her balanced on her knees bending close to him. His hand moved up to cup her face, pulling her down for a long, seductive kiss.
"Hi", he murmured pulling back from her a little. "Welcome home."
She smiled down at him, kissed him quickly, then got up and headed to the kitchen.
"Coffee? I see you left one to go cold."
Daniel swung his legs around and sat up, running a hand over his face, trying to wake up. On the floor sat the coffee he had made hours ago, only half drunk. He picked up the cup and joined Sophia at the kitchen sink, his arms coming around her, pulling her back against him. The dream had followed him into waking and he needed the contact.
She turned in his arms and looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes meeting his blue. "You're still frowning, Daniel." Her fingers once again came up to smooth across his forehead. "What's wrong?"
His arms slipped away from her, and he moved to put the cup in the sink.
"I'm fine, just a headache," he replied, a touch brisker than was necessary. It wasn't a total lie, there was the hint of an ache behind his eyes, but as his gaze caught hers, he could see she didn't believe him.
"Sorry, I don't mean to be…" She moved into his arms again and hugged him quickly.
She fit so perfectly against him, her head resting on his shoulder as though it belonged there. His body responded to her nearness but he clamped down his desires, at least for now.
"Tell me about the exhibit, did you have a good time? I see you brought back the programme." Daniel had spotted the glossy book laid on the kitchen counter, a statue of Rameses on the front.
Sophia moved away from him, letting him change the subject, and picked up the book. "Want to see?"
They sat side by side on the couch, thighs touching, heads bent over the photos. It was a small, but eclectic selection ranging from small ushabti to large basalt figures: Horus, Hathor, Anubis all represented in some way. Daniel tried not to associate the figures and carvings with the Goa'uld he had fought. The Egyptians who had represented their gods so symbolically had no knowledge of the parasites that had taken their names.
Hours later, sated and half asleep, Daniel felt Sophia's fingers track across his flesh once more. Not to stimulate, just smoothing over old scars as she often did after they had made love. Her fingers came to rest on the welt left by a staff weapon blast. Janet had done her best, but without plastic surgery that particular injury would always be there.
"I feel them, Daniel." Sophia's voice was low in the darkness.
He frowned then tightened his arm around her. He didn't know what to say to her. They were old scars, a permanent reminder of the dangers he lived with.
Her hand moved restlessly against his skin, skimming from scar to scar. She raised herself up on one arm and gazed down at him, her face serious, eyes concerned.
"Sophia?"
"They hurt you, Daniel. Not the physical scars." Her hand move again until it came to rest above his heart. "The emotional scars, I feel them, here." She pressed lightly against his chest, "and here." Her fingers moved to her own breast.
He sucked in a tight breath. He had never considered that she could read him as she had the netsuke he had brought to her months ago. But perhaps it made sense. He had always felt connected to her whenever they touched. She would let her fingers trace his face, his body, and he would feel the tension ease.
For a moment he teetered on the brink of leaving, putting distance between himself and this woman who should not have to bear the shattered emotions he kept hidden even from himself.
"Don't run, Daniel. Please don't run." Her hand cupped his cheek now, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Tears welled there, barely held back. "My gift always ruins things. I should never have told you what I sense. I don't mean to pry, but I love you Daniel and you deserve my honesty."
A tear dripped onto his chest, scalding him.
For a moment more he struggled with himself, then pulled her down and back into his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I can't tell you about them, I don't think I could face any of them again, not yet at least."
She lay across him, making at much contact as she could. "I don't mind if you can't share, Daniel, just don't hide them from me. I feel sometimes that you put a barrier between us, when something unpleasant has happened. I don't feel connected to you in the same way."
"I know. I'll try." He kissed her gently, and then, as passion ignited between them, he gave himself over to her completely.
