"DanielJackson."

I am waiting at the juncture of the corridor that leads from the infirmary to DanielJackson's office. He greets me in passing as though it is an ordinary afternoon at the SGC.

"Hey Teal'c."

He doesn't stop.

"DanielJackson."

He turns to me with what I know is a false expression of interest. Despite how deeply his hands are pushed into the pockets of his fatigue pants, his shoulders are atypically high.

"Are you aware of the time?" I ask him.

"Yeah, uh – 3:26…" He consults his wristwatch, moving it backwards and forwards in front of his eyes as though focusing presents a difficulty for him. "…a.m."

"Is this not an odd time for Dr. Lamm to be releasing you from the infirmary?"

During any particular shift at the SGC, there are female personnel who devote a great deal of their time to the observation, contemplation, and discussion of DanielJackson. I am not unpleasantly aware that I am the subject of equal scrutiny; therefore it was quite easy for me to be alerted when DanielJackson liberated himself from the infirmary. I only had to ask the assorted nurses to relay the information to me and all were quite happy to do so for their own particular reasons.

"Yeah, well, uh, I'll discuss that with her tomorrow." DanielJackson deflects his answer to my question. "I've got a lot of work to catch up on. Translations I couldn't get to when – when that bracelet – when I couldn't get any work done."

He attempts to move off again.

"DanielJackson."

He drops his head in a gesture I am aware is meant to signify that he is being heroically patient with me, then gazes at me over the top of his glasses.

"Teal'c?"

"I am not aware of any impending missions that would require you to commence translations at this hour."

"No. Yeah. No, I know. I mean – I just thought if I could find something in the Book of Origin, or the Merlin mythology, I just thought, I might be able to find something…"

I realize the impetus underlying his need. Vala Maldoran is missing and presumed dead. No one should have less reason to hope in her survival than DanielJackson; but there is also no one I know of with more reason to hope.

"Even if you indeed find something useful in your texts DanielJackson, there is no probability of a mission being organized and approved for many hours, perhaps even days."

I am aware that such a remark made by anyone not a close friend of DanielJackson's would not be well received. It is not my intent to hurt him; only to persuade him that his time would be better put to resting. The facial expressions he exhibits inform me that his first reaction is anger, then understanding and agreement. Then hope.

"I have to try. I have to do something."

There is no argument I can make against this. Indeed, there is no argument I would make.

"How may I assist you?"

His answer is both immediate and not unexpected.

"You could persuade Scary Betty down in the commissary to be a little freer with the coffee at 3am."

"I will see to it immediately."

I start to turn away, but this time it is DanielJackson who calls me back.

"Teal'c? You think she's still alive, don't you?"

"Yes I do." I inform him. He doesn't inquire why I believe this, but I am aware he would like the answer nonetheless. "There is a saying on earth is there not 'the one who is most annoying is the one required to live the longest.'"

DanielJackson's answer is once again immediate.

"Oh dear God, she's immortal."

For your sake DanielJackson, I indeed hope so.

The end.