Daniel practically growled in frustration at the magazine obscuring the runes he was trying to look at before he realised that that was a very Jack O'Neill thing to do. Not that he didn't admire Jack in any way whatsoever, but he thought that turning into him might have stop at the sarcastic one liners.

And even those had been starting to freak him out with their regularity lately.

His thoughts were interrupted by the swish of long dark hair and his runes being obstructed yet again, but this time by a woman who was so obviously on a mission – probably to get him to do something humiliating or expensive – it was almost painful.

"Daniel."

He sighed inwardly. So much for getting some work done while she was being instructed in the fine art of the shopping channels by Teal'c. "Vala."

But she'd apparently forgotten or dismissed whatever it was she was thinking, because in the time it'd taken him to form her name, she'd picked up a unique vase that Daniel thought had Polynesian links and was trying to balance it upside down on top of his computer monitor.

He took it off her. Carefully.

"I'm bored, Daniel." (When wasn't she? he wondered)

He looked at her expectantly. It wasn't like she couldn't come up with ways to amuse herself. And while he didn't relish the thought of her being let loose on the internet – it'd taken some persuading to dissuade her from trying to possess the British Crown Jewels – it was looking highly preferable to letting her loose in his office.

It never occurred to him to kick her out like he used to with Jack.

But there again, Jack had normally gone on from Daniel's office to Sam's and stayed there until he'd returned with her in tow to drag Daniel to whichever meal he was in danger of missing.

He turned round at the sound of something being dropped. Vala's face was a picture of innocence.

"What does it do?" she asked, holding up the two pieces (Daniel was fairly sure that five minutes ago they'd been joined together) of an artefact (take that, Jack) that SG-11 had returned with.

"I'm not sure," he replied, trying to take the pieces off her. At the last second she snatched the pieces away, grinning at him as she winked (surely that should be more annoying?). This time he didn't repress the sigh.

"Vala," he said tightly, then in a sudden move grabbed her wrist, reclaiming his prized objects. "Thank you," he said, turning his back on her to try and actually do the job he was paid to do.

A second later, his field of vision was filled with her face again.

"Daniel. Its not polite to ignore a guest," she told him pointedly. He looked up. This time she was sprawled across his desk like she intended to stay put.

Groaning, he tossed one of her magazines at her before returning to work. She grinned, stretched (did she actually realise how blatant she was?) and moved just enough to the side to allow him to work.

Oddly enough, her presence in his peripheral vision was quietly reassuring and Daniel found himself concentrating better than he had been before. The subdued flick of the pages let him know without looking exactly what she was up to (and he wanted to know exactly what she was up to – she'd already tried to steal the half of his office that the Air Force hadn't nailed down), and if he was momentarily distracted on occasion by the thought of the expression that she would be wearing – from his angle he could just about glimpse the page but not her face – then it was a small price to pay for her not bouncing round like a hyperactive child.

And when he went and got coffee an hour later, he was handing her a cup before he even realised that he'd not just got one cup. And her smile of thanks made him thank his subconscious profusely.

And it seemed perfectly natural, an hour later, to bounce his ideas off her. Wel, she was there and it was better than talking to the monitor like he normally did. And she listened. He was fairly sure that she wasn't going to produce a brilliant breakthrough, and half way through she shushed him, and he'd stuttered a halt because she didn't like the angle of his hair, but still. Having Vala in his office wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought.

And he'd missed her when she'd just upped and waltzed out, leaving the magazine open (on the problem page, he'd been wondering what the muffled giggles were about), leaving a too silent office in her wake.

And suddenly, though the knowledge had been creeping up on him irrevocably all afternoon, he realised why Jack had never got kicked out Sam's office.

Now there was a thought that didn't disturb him half as much as it should have.