Chapter Two – Space
Jack watched Daniel's little blue Saturn pull away, wondering what the archeologist was feeling. Not that he couldn't guess to some degree. Once the car was out of sight, he shut the door behind him and let out a growl of frustration. He had imagined that conversation many many times, but somehow, in his head, it had never started and ended with Daniel angry.
He'd wanted to be able to say that Daniel was smoking dope, that he hadn't been any harder on him recently than he used to be, but he knew it was true. He closed his eyes and shuddered. What he'd done on Euronda had been an indirect result of his trying to prove himself independent of Daniel's influence. It had been careless, thoughtless, criminal and he deserved a reprimand he hadn't gotten for it. Going into that cockpit the first time against drones was one thing. Assuming that they only ever fought drones and failing to ask before leaping in that seat to play a vast video game was something quite different. Those faces, the people he'd killed, haunted him. It was murder. Nothing short of murder.
It was ironic that he could confess murder to Hammond, but he couldn't confess love. Hammond, as a human being, would probably understand. Maybe. Jack shook his head. Hammond's personal reaction was irrelevant, though. As a general in the United States Air Force, he would have to view Jack's behavior and his words through the strict lens of military regulations, and love of the kind he'd come to feel for Daniel was clearly defined as out of bounds.
He shook his head and marshalled himself. He had pruning to do. Instead of taking him outside, though, his feet took him upstairs to the bathroom. Stripping rapidly, he climbed into the shower, trying not to think of Daniel. How many times had he jerked himself off in here to thoughts of the archeologist? His long slender body, those lean muscles, those sparkling blue eyes, his quicksilver wit . . .
He didn't know, but now was really not the time. His fantasies had been fueled by three years of careless, casual nudity in the base showers, freezing nights offworld when he'd snuggled up close against the other man for warmth. Fertile ground.
Growling a curse, he turned up the cold on the water. Oddly, it seemed . . . rude . . . to be having these fantasies about Daniel now that Daniel knew how he felt. Before, it had been his only outlet for feelings he couldn't express.
He scrubbed himself clean with more firmness than was strictly necessary and got out. He was dressed and in the car within ten minutes, heading for the base. It wasn't till he was halfway there that he realized the reason for his urgency. He had to know, now, if he could decently say no to Daniel's insane request. He had said he would agree if there weren't any flags in that report, and he would hold to that, come what may, but he had to know.
He parked and zipped past the security with barely a nod of greeting. Once in the elevator, he cursed its slowness. When the doors opened, he surprised the people outside by immediately starting forward. They got out of his way with startled exclamations. No doubt this would start more talk, especially if he had to okay Daniel's expedition. He turned his thoughts towards heaven and the God he didn't really believe was there. Please don't let it come to that, he thought.
Heading to records, he requested the report on P3X-888. With its startling thickness in his hands, he retired to his office, leaned back in the uncomfortable desk chair and flipped it open. Most of the pages were taken up with Robert Rothman's effusions on the archeological site. As he skimmed the seventy-five cent words that Rothman used to describe his findings, he whistled and understood why Daniel felt the need to join him. It wasn't so much an archeological site as paleontological. From what they'd found so far, it wasn't a civilization they were uncovering, not the work of man or any organized species, but the possible origin of the primitive Goa'uld symbiote.
He could barely imagine what that knowledge would mean to a man like Daniel. A scholar, ever hungry for knowledge, whose life had been torn apart by the rapacious greed of those creatures.
Feeling like an ass, he read the military sections of the report with extreme care for detail. Even knowing how much Daniel would have to be longing to go, he wasn't going to okay it if there was the slightest hint of danger. Daniel's sense of self-preservation was all too easily eclipsed by his passions, either scholarly or more purely emotional in nature.
Daniel wasn't wrong. They'd explored the area twenty miles out from the dig site, which was about four miles from the gate. The UAV had gone still farther, and showed no signs of habitation, no predators that couldn't be managed.
Water was drinkable, air showed no signs of pollutants or dangerous microbes, and a secure base camp was even now being built within sight of the dig site. As he'd known had to be the case, the expedition had been signed off on by Hammond and by Fraiser. Their engineers had designed a camp based on the terrain and perceived threats, upping that notch by several degrees to be on the safe side. SG-11, one of the larger teams that had been organized to supervise just this sort of thing were in charge. He knew Hawkins was a good man, and capable of standing up to Daniel. There wasn't a damned thing he could reasonably object to. If nothing else, he knew they wouldn't be sending a man like Robert Rothman if they were concerned that the planet posed a safety risk.
Towards the end of the file, he saw that Rothman's invitation hadn't been purely verbal. He had made a formal request. Jack turned to his inbox, more highly stacked than he liked it to be after their last mission. Sorting through, he found the page, lost in the bottom of the heap amongst other things he'd put aside as not of much importance. He read through it now with more attention.
Rothman could write. He'd expressed the need to have two educated minds working on this project with clarity and logic. One man could get too focused on his own ideas, could become distracted or weary and miss things. Two could work more efficiently than one as well. Yesterday, if he'd taken the time to read this, he'd have nixed it instantly, regardless of the rational arguments Rothman put forward. Now he read it with careful thought and agreed, particularly with the last note Rothman made, which was that he'd like to take an entire team of undergraduates along to guarantee proper evaluation of this important and valuable site. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, but it made sense to put their two best archeologists on it given the knowledge that could be gained.
Even if one of them was Daniel Jackson, chief pain in the ass and sudden focus of Jack's whole life.
Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed, contemplating the morning's interview. Daniel had grown so hunched, so closed off as Jack had spoken. His body language was as easy to read as block lettering an inch high. Misery grew into a hard knot in Jack's gut. It wasn't fair to put this off on him, but after the way Jack had utterly bollixed the last two months, he couldn't have explained his behavior with anything less than a full confession.
Daniel wanted to go. Daniel needed some space. Jack had always had trouble saying no to Daniel, even before his feelings had deepened into something more than friendship. He grabbed a pen out of the cup on his desk and checked the request off as approved and signed it quickly, before he lost his nerve.
Then he started putting together a list of things that Daniel was to take with him, no ifs, ands or buts. He might not be able to stop him, but he was damned well going to make sure he was properly prepared for any eventuality.
Hours later, he e-mailed Daniel his instructions. Swinging past records, he dropped the report in their drop box, then headed to Hammond's office where he put the approved temporary transfer request in Hammond's box.
With a heart both heavy and light, Jack went home to his empty house. He'd finish the pruning in the morning.
Confession might be good for the soul, but it was hell on the nerves. Jack walked into the base early Monday morning with his heart beating rapidly and his hands cold with sweat. He remembered telling Gina Harper he liked her on a Saturday night in the tenth grade. The following Monday had been full of adolescent anxiety and terror that she would laugh at him, tell everyone, or just ignore him. That day was nothing to this one. Of course, even if the whole school had known he was attracted to Gina, he wouldn't have been kicked out. He might have wished he had, but . . .
He shook his head and tried to calm his idiot nerves, but the moment he pulled up his e-mail, he knew he'd better stamp on them hard. There was one from Hammond, requesting an early meeting. Suddenly hope flared. Maybe Hammond would say no. Maybe he wouldn't have to. He'd have to find a way to convince Daniel that he hadn't influenced the general in any way, but he could manage that. He thought. Gulping some coffee down, he took a few deep breaths and put his game face on.
Hammond's secretary nodded him in and Jack walked through the door and shut it behind him. The general looked up from the papers he was working on and gazed at him thoughtfully. "Sit down, colonel," he said. Jack sat.
"Good morning, sir," he said after a moment.
"You seem ill at ease, colonel. Is something on your mind?" Jack shrugged and Hammond seemed to accept it. "I was somewhat surprised this morning when I received your approval of Dr. Rothman's request for Dr. Jackson's aid in his excavations."
Jack cleared his throat. "It seems a logical use of our resources," he said.
"Nonsense," Hammond stated with authority. "You've turned down equally reasonable requests in the past. What makes this one different?" Jack didn't know what to say to that. "I've noticed some issues between the two of you in recent weeks, but I've been unwilling to speak to you about them because I didn't want to interfere." He hadn't been so shy about asking Daniel, Jack reflected. But then, Daniel was a civilian, under slightly different rules.
"It's been settled," Jack said. "And Daniel thought it might be a good idea if we gave each other some space."
"This was his idea?" Hammond asked suspiciously.
Jack nodded. "Oh yeah," he said with feeling. "You know how I feel about trusting him to other teams."
"Then why did you agree on this occasion? You'll forgive me, but I haven't heard anything about the two of you having a meeting. In fact, what I've heard is that you've been avoiding each other like the plague."
Jack grimaced. "He came to my house on Saturday to hash things out. We talked. He suggested this expedition. I told him that I'd agree if I didn't see anything alarming in the report, and . . ." He shrugged. "I didn't."
"I see." Hammond sighed. "So long as you aren't using this as an excuse to get rid of him for a few weeks."
Jack stared at him in shock and dawning anger. "I wouldn't send him offworld for that," he said. "I can't believe you'd even think such a thing."
Hammond flushed. "I have been a bit disturbed by your recent behavior towards him. It wasn't what I would expect of you, and I wondered what . . . why the change." He waited expectantly, as if hoping that Jack would explain.
Jack ground his teeth and tilted his head. "I'll admit, sir, that things have been a bit strained between us since the NID sting operation." Hammond's face lost the grandfatherly concern and took on a cast of guilt. "Since during that I had to, in his words, 'rip his guts out and trample on them.' It's put kind of a damper on our working relationship, not to mention our friendship."
Hammond gulped. "I see. I'm sorry, colonel, I've been unfair to you. I'm glad to hear that the two of you are patching things up." Jack shrugged and looked away. Hammond slipped a sheet of paper out of his stack and signed it. "There. I hope a little distance makes things easier for both of you."
Jack took the approved personnel requisition and nodded. "Me too, sir."
"Are you going to go tell him, or should I send him a message?"
"I'll go," Jack said, taking his courage in both hands. Hammond nodded a dismissal and Jack left, wishing that he hadn't gone along with this. At this point, it had gone too far for him to take his approval back. A glance at his watch told him that Daniel was probably just settling down upstairs. Jack grabbed a couple of donuts and two cups of coffee and headed up to the little room Daniel called home.
He heard voices inside and realized that Daniel wasn't alone. He couldn't back down now, though, so he put a brave face on it and walked in.
". . . and then he realized it wasn't even Tuesday!" Carter was saying as he came in, and they both laughed.
It was eye-opening to see how their expressions and demeanor changed when they saw him. Carter was suddenly neutral, and Daniel looked very guarded. "Good morning, campers," Jack said in his best parody of his old style. He handed Daniel his coffee and put the donuts down on the desk, glad to see that he hadn't been pre-empted there. "Sorry, Carter, if I'd known you would be here, I would have brought another cup." He dug down in his brain for the appropriate behavior. Letting out an explosive sigh, he said, "Would you believe they ran out of Froot Loops in the commissary?" he demanded. Both of them stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "I know, it's a crisis! And Hammond won't take it seriously. Can you believe it?"
"No, Jack," Daniel said, his voice quavering with something, Jake hoped it was mirth.
"I had to eat corn flakes!" Carter shook her head with a mild eye roll, and he could tell he was getting back into the stride.
"So that's why you brought jelly donuts?" Daniel asked with a straight face.
"Well, corn flakes are hardly sufficient breakfast, Daniel," Jack replied.
"And I suppose they are fruit loops, after a fashion," Daniel added, gesturing with his hands to indicate a circle. Carter snickered.
"Exactly," Jack declared.
"Well, I'm afraid that, despite the 'crisis,' I have work to be doing," Carter said. "See you later, Daniel." A nod his direction. "Sir."
"Don't work too hard," he called after her. "I know you were here all weekend."
When she was gone, Daniel cleared his throat. "So, did you give it some thought?" he asked. Jack held out the paper and Daniel read it silently. He looked up uncertainly. "That didn't take long," he said.
"I read through the report three times," Jack said. "I saw two things. One, that the place is pretty secure, two, that it's the opportunity of a lifetime."
Daniel blinked and looked taken aback. "Really?"
"But you'd better come back without so much as a sprained toe."
"I'll do my best," Daniel said, an odd grin on his face.
"Read that e-mail I sent you," he added. "And follow its directions to the letter." Daniel's eyes widened. "You'd better go tell Rothman. I doubt he knows yet."
There was a sudden burst of Brooklyn nasality by the door. "Daniel! Daniel, have you heard the –" Rothman stopped dead in the doorway. "I heard . . ." he faltered.
Jack forced a grin. "Have fun, boys, and bring back lots of rocks." With that he left, trying to ignore the perplexed tone of Rothman's voice as he asked whatever question he was asking.
Daniel would be fine, and he clearly didn't hate him for . . . for what he felt. Only time would tell. He doubted that the more fantastic of his fantasies was ever going to come true, but maybe they could be friends again. He'd settle for that, if it was all he could get.