Part 4
Indian Interlude
Part 4
It became something of a morning and evening ritual and one Jack wouldn't have willingly admitted he looked forward to at all. But the sight of a line of children waiting at the water's edge each time he went to collect water wasn't something he could easily ignore, not when each and every one was calling out his name.
"For crying out loud, don't you have anything better to do?" he growled the second time it happened, but he only received a multitude of puzzled looks which did nothing to answer his question.
The problem, as far as Jack was concerned, revolved round the fact that he hated bringing any form of attention to himself only because he was hoping that the guards would eventually grow so used to his presence that they'd forget about him, but this little get-together wasn't doing his plans a bit of good.
Muttering a curse under his breath on this particular morning, he almost jumped in shock when he felt a tug on his pant's leg. He had come down to the water's edge extra early and had thought he might evade the usual practice.
"What the--."
Looking down, he was aghast to find a small, chubby girl-child looking up at him with intense concentration through her ebony eyes. She could, he surmised, have been no more than three with tiny plaits and gap teeth and cheeks he was absolutely sure a hamster would have been proud to have.
She spoke some words with fierce intensity, the lisp in her speech unfortunately making it impossible to understand what she said. Jack shook his head, glaring at her in the hope she'd grow scared and run away. She didn't. She continued to repeat her demands, over and over, each one accompanied by a firm tug on his pants' leg.
He could remember a time when Charlie had done just the same thing; he must have been about her age and just as--. He flinched as if hit, but it was too late, much, much too late to try and disregard the demanding little body.
"You don't happen to have the gran-from-hell as a relative do you?" he muttered trying to ignore the chubby little fist, so like another he'd doted on, attached to him like a limpet.
He could see the frustration beginning to settle in her dark chocolate eyes and yet again was suddenly taken back to a time when his own son had tried to get his meaning across. Knowing this could be the precursor to a major tantrum, he sought to head it off before it began. Squatting down to be at her height, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders hoping his mime would be understood.
Shaking her head at his utter stupidity, 'did all women have this ability,' he wondered as she knelt down and took up some pebbles lying at her feet. Then turning to face the water, she waited.
Comprehension dawned and Jack grinned as much from relief as anything else, but he shook his head adamantly.
"No can do, munchkin, you're much too young to be by the water's edge. Now scat; go on home now."
She may not have understood the words, but the meaning was crystal clear and she didn't care for it. Stamping her tiny foot, she gave Jack the evil eye, clearly expecting a positive result for all her effort.
"Been taking lessons from Daniel by any chance?"
And then getting no response, he decided action was needed to accompany his words so he put on his fiercest frown and barked,
"No!"
And realizing the little termagant was about to protest further, Jack beat her to it.
"I said, no!"
And picking her up, Jack carried her away from the water only depositing her on the ground when she was safely away from any danger.
Fearfully expecting some sort of huge upset, not being used to little girls, he was more than surprised to find her grinning as she held her arms up in the universal toddlerese language,
/Carry me./
Looking around desperately in the hope he'd spot some frantic mother searching for her lost daughter, Jack was met by the usual scene of a village waking up and getting down to life. Women were collecting water and starting fires, the usual group of children had scattered, running hither and thither and the men were tending to their horses or working on their weapons. He sighed.
A rider passed by and Jack looked up to find it was Geronimo looking somewhat bemused at Jack's predicament.
''Is she yours?''
The rider understood the body language if not the spoken words and he shook his head pointing in the general direction of half a dozen tepees then his mount broke into a gentle canter leaving Jack still with the little problem of a lost child.
"Oh, for crying out loud."
He ran his hand through his hair, which had grown much longer, a habit he'd acquired whenever he met something that didn't fall into the rules of O'Neill-life-as-it-should-be.
"Don't they know I'm the enemy here and not the babysitter?"
Fascinated by the strange words coming from her new found friend's mouth, the little girl turned in his arms and placed her own arms round his neck obviously enjoying this new position. Jack attempted another glare but it didn't seem to work this time round either and he continued to stare at her wondering if she realized she was lost. And just as he was about to go find one of the children he'd come to know, Gran-from-hell came out of her tent, looking only slightly taken aback to find man and child together.
Expecting her to give him a barrage of insults at finding him thus employed, he was bewildered when she spoke some words in a gentle, and if Jack wasn't mistaken, a slightly amused tone and the child answered, chortling in merriment. For a moment the old woman seemed to smile, giving Jack an appraising look. Then nodding, she turned and headed to the water shaking her head slowly as she mumbled under her breath.
''What was all that about?'' he demanded, pulling his head back to get a better look at the child.
Eyebrows over dancing black eyes rose up as if to tell him he really didn't want to know.
''A woman thing, huh?...Okay, if I'm to be your personal donkey I need to know your name.''
There was obvious interest shown but no reply, so Jack pointed to his chest saying his name. A flash of understanding was followed by the softly spoken,
/Teomyn./
Jack said the name which was greeted with a firm nod of approval. He smiled at her endorsement of his pronunciation.
'Daniel would be proud of me.'
But as the thought came to him, sadness assailed Jack that was so great he hissed with his grief making the little girl stare deeply into his eyes. Her hand moved from around his neck tracing the contours of his cheek just above his grey beard so gently that Jack's painful thoughts returned to her.
''Hey, it's okay. Don't worry. We'll find your mom in a flash.''
--
(Meanwhile back at the SGC)
"Is that it?"
Sam's head shot up, her eyes conveying just what she thought of Daniel's ill-veiled tone. Leaving her papers where they'd fallen from her hands, she stared in undisguised shock at SG-1's resident linguist and current pain in the mikta. If the scientist had used that tone of voice against her she would have been distinctly irritated, but the fact that he was adopting such an attitude with her overall boss, the head of the SGC and from what she could tell, one now exceedingly irate general, she had to wonder sometimes about the logic in a man having too many PhDs to count, but who at this moment was in the running for tantrum extraordinaire of the terrible twos.
It wasn't often she saw General Hammond about to lose it, but this looked like one of those times when she wished she was anywhere but where she actually was.
"Daniel."
Her softly spoken word of caution was ignored and not for the first time she regretted her lack of foresight in failing to sit opposite her colleague - a good, swift kick to his shins would have come in very handy at this moment.
Sam decided intervention was the only recourse and taking a deep breath to steady herself, swiftly rose to her feet.
"Sir, what Daniel is trying to say--."
"I think," interrupted the linguist, not taking his eyes off Hammond, his voice lathered with enough sarcasm to sink a Goa'uld ship, "Daniel is big enough to speak for himself."
Blue eyes narrowing to icy shards, the rotund air force general simply observed the youngest member of SG-1, neither encouraging nor denying him his opportunity to speak.
"We should be sending more units out, not down-grading the search. If it were you out there, Jack wouldn't just give up. He'd be moving heaven and earth!"
His censure was biting in its contempt.
This wasn't the first time Daniel had shown his disapproval, but Sam knew this wasn't the right time. Through the grapevine she had heard of the general's feverish attempts to call in numerous favors from all levels in order to keep the search for Jack alive and of the utmost priority, but Senator Kinsey was playing just the right number of cards to ensure that after one month the SGC's mission was downscaled. The loss of a colonel was a bitter one, certainly, but there were other colonels out there. Colonel Jack O'Neill was not indispensable.
But for some, he was.
Through gritted teeth, the bald headed man glared wrathfully at the bespectacled junior and through achingly clenched jaw ground out,
"Major, I suggest you take Dr. Jackson somewhere far away from me until he calms down enough to know that what he's spouting is a load of horse shit!"
Spinning on his heel, the general marched from the briefing room, and in a rare show of his feelings the door closed behind him with a force equivalent to the man's fury.
Again Sam attempted to reason.
"Daniel, you can't--."
His head span round.
"Wha-at? What can't I do? Just you tell me!"
Blue eyes glared into hers, the pain blindingly transparent.
"Is that the official line? Do you just happily follow the leader and forget about Jack? Is that how it works in this f-cked up military?"
And unable to face the pain reflected in her eyes, Daniel pivoted, going to stand at the huge window which looked down on the Gate Room, his arms wrapped round himself.
Sam stared at the linguist's stiff back yet still she tried to make him see reason.
"Daniel, you can't go talking to the General like that. It's going to get you nowhere fast."
"So what would you have me do, huh, Sam?"
His voice was dull and lifeless.
"Do we just carry on as if nothing's happened, as if...?"
He choked on his words, dashing a hand across his eyes. Then straightening his shoulders, he turned to face her. And ignoring the dark shadows under her eyes, ignoring the pain that lay so close to the surface, ignoring her body language which screamed out to him for understanding, he stated frostily,
"You're just like the rest of them. Everyone is expendable in your crummy world!"
he accused witheringly, and he would have stalked past her in dismissal had it not been for a heavy hand landing forcefully on his shoulder, spinning him round and pushing him into a chair.
Teal'c!
Daniel hadn't even realized he was there. Certainly, he'd been unaware of the arrival of the huge warrior, who had been off world seeking other avenues to follow in the unremitting search for their lost CO.
"What manner of speech do you use against Major Carter, Daniel Jackson?"
Raising her hand in an awkward show of least resistance, Sam attempted to make light of the friction that reverberated like a ricocheting bullet around the enclosed room.
"It's okay, Teal'c. Daniel's upset. He doesn't know what he's saying."
It was the worst thing she could have said, and seeing the linguist's appalled expression, she realized too late her mistake.
"Do you have to be so god damned compassionate all of the time? Can't you for once - oh I don't know - just show some real f-cking feelings?" he demanded blisteringly.
"Daniel, I didn't mean--."
"Screw you!"
He watched her flinch as he lurched out of his seat, only to find himself thrust back with powerful force; the wind knocked out of him.
"You will do well to retain that seat, Daniel Jackson," advised the Jaffa coldly, "because, have no doubt, should you choose to continue behaving in this improper manner, I will deal with you as a father with a wayward child."
Face flushed with outrage, Daniel felt the first cold tendrils of apprehension prickle his skin. He'd only ever known Teal'c to be a staunch ally since joining with SG-1, yet even in his grief he was taken aback by the change in the dark-skinned man's behavior.
"You don't understand, Teal'c--," he attempted to protest as he dragged in a ragged breath.
"I understand that you are acting like an unpleasant, wilful child who is in deep need of chastisement and I would furthermore remind you that I am old enough to be your grandfather. Know this, Daniel Jackson, I will not hesitate to undertake this onerous task should you continue to convince me that you are unable to restrain yourself."
For once, he was speechless and Teal'c took the opportunity to bow his head in greeting to Sam, before shaking his head in bleak defeat.
"The rebel Jaffa I contacted know of this planet, but the forces of the Goa'uld have never been able to benefit from its resources."
Sam frowned, still in shock at Daniel's fierce verbal attack.
"What does that mean?"
"It means, Major Carter, that there is more to be learned from this planet."
Teal'c's dark disappointed gaze settled once more on the chastised linguist who had wisely dropped his head in a show of submission.
"And once Dr. Jackson has ceased to act like one in need of correction, he may see fit to look deeper into the mystery of that place."
--
Briefings were briefings the world - correct that - universes over, he'd decided as he made an effort not to fall asleep as the old, wizened man, Snow Wolf, who Jack now knew was head of this group of people, talked before an enthralled crowd that had entered this large lodge. It was used, Jack had surmised, for ceremonial or important purposes such as mind-numbing meetings. And why he had to be here was an aggravation. When Little Step had told him to come with her, he had complied as one who had grown used to obeying the whims of old women and only figured it was something involving the whole village when they fell in step with others going in the same direction.
'Must be a hell of a good movie,' Jack muttered to himself, 'Just hope they've got subtitles.'
This could have been, he realized frustrated, the perfect opportunity for escape with almost the whole village attending this little shindig. But no, here he was, sitting between Little Step and her young friend, unable to understand a damned word that was being spoken. He'd never complain about a briefing ever again he promised himself, if only...
Now, well into the lecture, Jack allowed his eyes to roam lazily around the cross-legged group, until suddenly he became uncomfortably aware that most eyes were resting on him. His head jerked back to the chieftain, his attention no longer wavering like a bored five-year old's, to see Snow Wolf addressing him, waving his wizened hand as if to call him to his side. Instantly, Little Step was whispering in his ear,
/Go./
Hands were unexpectedly encouraging him as he rose to his bare feet, and giving the old woman one last puzzled look, he turned and made his way through the seated people until he stood, towering over the old man.
He sensed no danger in the atmosphere; saw no anger or hatred in the faces his gaze skimmed across, yet still there was a ripple of restlessness.
When next the old man spoke, the onlookers as a whole gave a satisfying ahhhhh of admiration upon which Jack saw something was being placed over his head. Knowing what it was, he lowered his head to his chest to make the chief's efforts easier to attain, and then saw the necklace of feathers and black, shiny stone that were the centrepiece of his newly acquired gift. And before he could even acknowledge this, a pair of soft, knee high moccasins were pressed into his hands. More noises of approval followed from those surrounding the proceedings while Jack began to feel himself begin to color.
Jack recognized the father of the young boy he'd saved from drowning, now stand and begin to address the spellbound group obviously miming the actions of first his son, and then what Jack presumed were his own actions in diving into the river. At what was obviously the pivotal moment of the rescue there were howls and yaps of delight. Squirming now, Jack felt that this whole affair had gone on longer than was necessary. This whole thing was somehow surreal. Kept prisoner and yet bestowed with gifts. It was absurd. He dropped his head, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes. And only when he felt himself dismissed by Snow Wolf did he consent to look up, meeting the understanding gaze of the one called Colored Sky.
He didn't look away until she dropped her eyes.
--
TBC