Author's note: I'm sorry I took so long to update, I've been packing boxes. The next update will probably take just as long to get here due to unpacking boxes.
Thanks to my reviewers.
***
Jack had been in a state of panic through most of the night. Several times he'd considered calling Daniel, but he was probably sleeping off the effects of whatever was affecting him. He'd said he was tired after all.
It was such a shock that for a moment Jack had been certain he was dreaming. He had in fact had a couple of dreams in which Daniel featured in a rather physical context. But he knew Daniel wasn't like that, didn't think about him that way. He'd been married, for crying out loud!
The little voice at the back of his mind pointed out that the same could be said for him. But Daniel had never shown any sign of being attracted to Jack. They were friends, that was all. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to Daniel, he had eyes, but he knew Daniel didn't feel attracted to him. He'd given up on that hope a long time ago.
That was why he'd had to get out of the apartment. If he'd stayed, with Daniel coming onto him he doubted he'd have been able to restrain himself. And then if Doc Fraiser had told him Daniel had been under the influence of an alien somethingorother he'd have hated himself for taking advantage. He cared about Daniel too much to let that happen.
It was better he was away from Daniel.
So why did he feel like he was deserting him? If Daniel was suffering from some alien disease or whatever, he ought to have stayed with him and made sure he was OK.
He'd battled the thoughts round in his mind all night. Now it was early enough to be considered morning rather than night, and he was wondering if he should go over and see how he was. But Daniel hated getting up early.
Instead he decided to phone Doc Fraiser.
"Hey, Doc," he said as she picked up the phone in the infirmary. Another all-night shift. "Have you got the results from Daniel's tests?"
"Yes, they're all normal."
"Normal?"
"Yes, I think he was probably right about being tired. Skipping meals doesn't help either. Make sure he eats properly." That was easier said than done. Every time he tried to convince Daniel to eat meals at regular intervals he complained Jack was mothering him. But if he didn't, Daniel would bury himself so deeply in his work it would take another archaeologist to dig him out again.
As he hung up the phone, Jack was beginning to worry about something new. If Daniel wasn't under alien influence, then he'd kissed Jack because he wanted to. Because he wanted him. Jack wasn't sure how he could cope with that. It meant he'd have to do something about the feelings he'd had for a few years now. Daniel not wanting him was easier to cope with.
He decided this was the sort of thing that had to be discussed face to face, although he and Daniel didn't do very well when it came to talking about feelings. Still, he couldn't just let this pass.
So, still hideously early, he arrived at Daniel's apartment. The doorman recognised him at let him go up without needing to buzz Daniel to see if the guest was a welcome one or any of the things they usually did.
When there was no answer to his knock Jack's protective instincts were leaping into panic mode. He knocked again, then took out his emergency key. It had seemed sensible after the number of times Daniel had to send Jack to feed his fish when he was stuck in the infirmary to just give Jack a key.
As he opened the door he tried to tell himself Daniel was just sleeping off the exhaustion and hadn't woken up to his knock. He knew when he stepped inside it wasn't so. The place was empty.
***
Jim and Blair were in Simon's office. They were trying to figure out how to write a report up of their latest case. He didn't think it would go down too well if he wrote that he'd followed the murderer because he could smell his really bad cologne. It had been strong enough that he almost hadn't needed to turn up his senses to follow it.
There was a knock on the door and one of the officers came in at Simon's call.
"Sir, there's someone downstairs who was. . . well asking to speak to someone. He just came in and said, 'He's here. I need to speak to him.'"
"Who?" Simon asked.
"I don't know, he collapsed before we could ask. I couldn't see any injury but he seemed really frantic to talk to whoever it is."
Five minutes later they were looking at the man collapsed on the floor of the police's department's lobby. He was face down on the floor, with a crowd of curious people around him.
"All right, back off," Simon said, "You, call an ambulance." Jim knelt by the man. He didn't smell of blood, which was a good sign.
"Maybe he's got some ID," Jim suggested, checking inside the man's pockets for a wallet. Sure enough there was one.
"Dr Daniel Jackson," Jim read, looking at the guy's driving licence. "His address is in Colorado Springs."
"Daniel?" Blair asked, "I know him. I was at university with him for a while."
"You think he could have been coming to see you?" Simon asked.
"Maybe," Blair replied, "but I can't think why. I haven't seen him in years."
Jim put the guy's wallet back into his pocket, and he reached to check his pulse. As he touched his arm, the man suddenly leapt into action. He spun slightly so he could look at them, his hand automatically grabbing Jim's. He stared up at Jim with an intensity that was almost tangible.
Then he spoke in a language that was very familiar to Jim. The language of the Chopec tribe. The tribe that had taken him in and taught him about being a Sentinel. Before Jim could say anything, the man was unconscious again.
"What did he say?" Blair asked.
"Sentinel, help me."
***
Author's note: I apologise for the short chapter. I'm blaming moving house. We should have a phone line when we move in, so with luck I'll still be able to use the internet. You may get an update.
I'll do what I can. Reviewing might encourage me to write more.
Thanks to my reviewers.
***
Jack had been in a state of panic through most of the night. Several times he'd considered calling Daniel, but he was probably sleeping off the effects of whatever was affecting him. He'd said he was tired after all.
It was such a shock that for a moment Jack had been certain he was dreaming. He had in fact had a couple of dreams in which Daniel featured in a rather physical context. But he knew Daniel wasn't like that, didn't think about him that way. He'd been married, for crying out loud!
The little voice at the back of his mind pointed out that the same could be said for him. But Daniel had never shown any sign of being attracted to Jack. They were friends, that was all. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to Daniel, he had eyes, but he knew Daniel didn't feel attracted to him. He'd given up on that hope a long time ago.
That was why he'd had to get out of the apartment. If he'd stayed, with Daniel coming onto him he doubted he'd have been able to restrain himself. And then if Doc Fraiser had told him Daniel had been under the influence of an alien somethingorother he'd have hated himself for taking advantage. He cared about Daniel too much to let that happen.
It was better he was away from Daniel.
So why did he feel like he was deserting him? If Daniel was suffering from some alien disease or whatever, he ought to have stayed with him and made sure he was OK.
He'd battled the thoughts round in his mind all night. Now it was early enough to be considered morning rather than night, and he was wondering if he should go over and see how he was. But Daniel hated getting up early.
Instead he decided to phone Doc Fraiser.
"Hey, Doc," he said as she picked up the phone in the infirmary. Another all-night shift. "Have you got the results from Daniel's tests?"
"Yes, they're all normal."
"Normal?"
"Yes, I think he was probably right about being tired. Skipping meals doesn't help either. Make sure he eats properly." That was easier said than done. Every time he tried to convince Daniel to eat meals at regular intervals he complained Jack was mothering him. But if he didn't, Daniel would bury himself so deeply in his work it would take another archaeologist to dig him out again.
As he hung up the phone, Jack was beginning to worry about something new. If Daniel wasn't under alien influence, then he'd kissed Jack because he wanted to. Because he wanted him. Jack wasn't sure how he could cope with that. It meant he'd have to do something about the feelings he'd had for a few years now. Daniel not wanting him was easier to cope with.
He decided this was the sort of thing that had to be discussed face to face, although he and Daniel didn't do very well when it came to talking about feelings. Still, he couldn't just let this pass.
So, still hideously early, he arrived at Daniel's apartment. The doorman recognised him at let him go up without needing to buzz Daniel to see if the guest was a welcome one or any of the things they usually did.
When there was no answer to his knock Jack's protective instincts were leaping into panic mode. He knocked again, then took out his emergency key. It had seemed sensible after the number of times Daniel had to send Jack to feed his fish when he was stuck in the infirmary to just give Jack a key.
As he opened the door he tried to tell himself Daniel was just sleeping off the exhaustion and hadn't woken up to his knock. He knew when he stepped inside it wasn't so. The place was empty.
***
Jim and Blair were in Simon's office. They were trying to figure out how to write a report up of their latest case. He didn't think it would go down too well if he wrote that he'd followed the murderer because he could smell his really bad cologne. It had been strong enough that he almost hadn't needed to turn up his senses to follow it.
There was a knock on the door and one of the officers came in at Simon's call.
"Sir, there's someone downstairs who was. . . well asking to speak to someone. He just came in and said, 'He's here. I need to speak to him.'"
"Who?" Simon asked.
"I don't know, he collapsed before we could ask. I couldn't see any injury but he seemed really frantic to talk to whoever it is."
Five minutes later they were looking at the man collapsed on the floor of the police's department's lobby. He was face down on the floor, with a crowd of curious people around him.
"All right, back off," Simon said, "You, call an ambulance." Jim knelt by the man. He didn't smell of blood, which was a good sign.
"Maybe he's got some ID," Jim suggested, checking inside the man's pockets for a wallet. Sure enough there was one.
"Dr Daniel Jackson," Jim read, looking at the guy's driving licence. "His address is in Colorado Springs."
"Daniel?" Blair asked, "I know him. I was at university with him for a while."
"You think he could have been coming to see you?" Simon asked.
"Maybe," Blair replied, "but I can't think why. I haven't seen him in years."
Jim put the guy's wallet back into his pocket, and he reached to check his pulse. As he touched his arm, the man suddenly leapt into action. He spun slightly so he could look at them, his hand automatically grabbing Jim's. He stared up at Jim with an intensity that was almost tangible.
Then he spoke in a language that was very familiar to Jim. The language of the Chopec tribe. The tribe that had taken him in and taught him about being a Sentinel. Before Jim could say anything, the man was unconscious again.
"What did he say?" Blair asked.
"Sentinel, help me."
***
Author's note: I apologise for the short chapter. I'm blaming moving house. We should have a phone line when we move in, so with luck I'll still be able to use the internet. You may get an update.
I'll do what I can. Reviewing might encourage me to write more.
