This is a bit of crackfic that was the result of a request for a fic from the ever amusing and inventive Lolmac. I was supposed to be working on something else, and so this naturally took my brain by the hand and lead it away to frolic. Prompt at the end.

Ohhhh, The Cat Came Back...

by Thothmes

Sam had made Brigadier and was freshly installed as the general in charge of the SGC when Daniel died yet again. Teal'c had been on a leave of absence, off helping with Rya'c's election campaign, so Colonel Mitchell, Vala, and a Lieutenant Gibbons had been the only witnesses. Cam, grey with guilt and anguish had explained that there had been no possibility of him surviving or of retrieving the body. The lava flow had been too sudden, and too hot. Daniel had been at the end of the line, and was the only one caught in it. Vala had been mute with grief, and her attempt to hide it behind a wobbly, teary smile fooled no one. Lieutenant Gibbons had said that he had turned at Daniel's cry, seen the lava start to roll over him, and that it was so hot that he had instantly burnt up in a bright flash of light, and then he had lost his lunch all over his combat boots, right there in the Gate Room in front of all the Marines.

Sam sent them all off to the infirmary, and then, with shaking hands, put a call through to the Pentagon. He needed to know.

"Sir," she said, thinking correctly that if she made this a "sir" call and not a "Jack" call, she might, just might get through this without breaking, "We've lost Daniel again."

General O'Neill seemed remarkably calm, considering.

"He's like the cat in that song," he said. "He'll be back."

How prophetic.

Some three weeks later, General O'Neill was in town to make his annual inspection of the SGC. Teal'c was back too, proud of his son's electoral success, and declaring his three year old grandson to be showing signs that he would grow to be a formidable warrior like his father.

When the remnants of SG-1 and General O'Neill (minus the lowly Lieutenant who discovered another obligation as soon as he heard how rare the air was going to be at pizza night this time) knocked on Carter's door that afternoon, they were concerned to find her looking a bit shaken.

"General Carter, you appear unwell," said Teal'c breaking the silence.

"What gives, Carter?" asked O'Neill.

"I have a new cat," she replied.

"Yeah. Heisenburg. We know," said Cam.

"No. This is a new new cat."

"Ooookay," said Jack. "And this is a problem because..."

"I can't pick him up," she said. "He just showed up inside the house, when he wasn't there when I left for work today, and I can't pick him up."

"Perhaps he just needs to get used to you," offered Vala brightly. "If you buy him a can of tuna instead of that nasty dry stuff, maybe he will be more-"

"No, you don't understand. It's physically impossible to pick him up. I just..." She made repeated upward motions of both hands, side by side and moving together. She looked rather pitifully at General O'Neill. "I think maybe I need to be relieved of my command, sir. I'm thinking of taking up knitting."

O'Neill gave a frown of concern, and placed his hands firmly in either pocket, a sure sign that he didn't want them semaphoring anything that the others might be able to interpret.

"I think you better show us this cat, Carter."

Carter, grimacing, and if anything a bit paler, gestured towards the kitchen, visible from the front hall.

"There he is now, sir."

A sleek well-muscled cat with an unusual coat of reddish brown fur and startling blue eyes jumped off the dark granite counter, and proceeded to walk through the central island. As in when he emerged, his head came through the solid wood, followed by the rest of his body. Through. He stalked up to Vala, walked figure eights around and between her legs, went to Mitchell and delicately sniffed his leg, jumped from there to the back of the living room couch and from there to Teal'c shoulder, and then down again, to stand over Jack's right sneaker, where he proceeded to noisily and convincingly hawk up an invisible hairball - all the sound was there, all the motion, no actual result.

There was silence as all present exchanged glances. Jack was the first to find his voice.

"As much as I'd like that sweater with the one arm longer than the other, Carter," said Jack, "I don't think your nuts, I'm not relieving you of your command, and I suggest you name him Daniel."

The cat began to purr.

THE END

This is the prompt that I responded to:

You may now feel free to write crackfic about Daniel Ascending into cat form.