Syncopated
Steps in Dreamland
Authors: MOG m.mogavero@comcast.net & Tidia tidiap@comcast.net
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: We do not profit from the writing of fanfiction. WE are also borrowing the song Someone to Watch Over Me.
Seasons: Let's say all
Comments: Well, what can I not say. This was great to write with someone else--it was exhilirating for us both and we hope everyone enjoys it.
Daniel sat down at the food-laden table. A baked turkey, bronzed from basting and hot out of the oven sat as a steaming centerpiece surrounded by all the traditional Thanksgiving Day fixings. Stuffing, mashed potatoes, kiwis colored red, kaleidoscopic alcoholic drinks with little paper umbrellas.
Jackson silently questioned the presence of the foot-high pyramid of Hostess Sno-balls resting on a silver platter, but since they had to have been brought by one of his friends he figured it was a tradition that wouldn't hurt anything by being observed.
The long table comfortably sat twenty. Thanksgiving was being celebrated in the gate room. This struck him as a bit odd as well. However, no one else seemed to find anything strange about it so the archaeologist said nothing. Everyone was having a great time.
Though Janet seemed to be laughing too hard. A slight wheezing laugh interspersed with the occasional snort. Evidently, she had already had a little too much to drink.
Sam clinked her fork against the glass she held in order to get everyone's attention. "Are we going to say what we're thankful for?"
Jack put down his beer midway to his mouth. "Two things—Tivo and the satellite sports package."
It wasn't an unexpected thing to hear from O'Neill, but Daniel was a bit surprised to hear the serious, confirming murmurs of his friends and co-workers as they solemnly agreed with the great blessing of the two items that Jack had mentioned.
Teal'c stood and gestured with one hand across the table, a hush came over everyone seated around him. "People of the Taur'i…long ago your ancestors came from across the wide ocean to settle on this land. You survived with help from the native Indians, you built homes, bred animals and raised yams."
Daniel's brow furrowed slightly as he watched Teal'c present his speech as if he were a second grader performing in a school play. Broad, stiff hand gestures mimed the motion of waves on the wide ocean, the building of pointy-roofed houses, and the harvesting of crops. The hand gestures grew larger and more animated as Teal'c continued.
"You gather in this tradition of thankfulness - a celebration of peace and love and abundance. You share with one another and build a family from those who are unrelated by blood."
Daniel listened to the eloquent words his friend offered up.
"You give selflessly of yourselves and sacrifice for those around you. Not only do you fight against the goa'uld in battles of the physical, but you fight against them in symbolic ways each time you put the well-being of your comrades above your own."
"But," continued Teal'c, "I do not understand *why* or *how* you can be thankful when the Native American people, those who helped inspire this honored celebration of stuffed meat, have been oppressed, abused, deceived, and treated so *poorly*! I am glad they killed your General Custer."
The sip of Mai-Tai that Jackson had just taken threatened to come back out at the sudden turn of tone.
Teal'c continued. "I am reminded of the Jaffa - trying to gain freedom from tyranny."
The large man leaned forward and slammed his fist on the table, causing the plates and platters of food to give a stunned leap into the air before settling back down.
"Perhaps the day is near when the Jaffa shall give these tribes weapons and help them rise up as we did from our oppressors! Yes. When that happens, *then* I shall stand proudly before you and give thanks for baked yams coated with melted marshmallows."
The Jaffa looked to each person in turn, finally settling on Daniel. Jackson felt uncomfortable under the dark gaze until Teal'c revealed a huge, toothy grin and joyfully spoke. "Tell us Daniel Jackson. What is it that *you* are thankful for?"
The scientist cleared his throat, not sure what to say after hearing his friend's declamation. He felt a sudden wave of warmth ripple through his body as if the temperature in the gate room had just risen abruptly.
"Uh…Well, I was going to say what you said."
"No you weren't," replied Jack from across the table, challenging his answer.
"You're right," Daniel smirked. "I was going to say I'll be thankful if Jack never gives Teal'c another history lesson."
O'Neill took a sip of his beer, then studied the condensation on the surface of the brown bottle before retorting, "Wait till I get to World War II."
"…and *that*, Danny boy, is why we are here."
Jack was sitting next to Daniel on a large rock overlooking a nearby lake. "I got it all from when the Ancients' info was downloaded into my brain. I just remembered it last night. BAM! Came to me clear as a bell right in the middle of 'Young Frankenstein'."
Daniel shook his head. Wasn't he just…? No, that had obviously been a dream. He stared at the man seated beside him. O'Neill had just told him something very important. He'd missed the meaning of life from Jack?
"What?" Daniel asked. A slight sound of desperation colored his tone.
The colonel favored Jackson with the kind of look Daniel often gave O'Neill. "You weren't listening, were you? I'm not gonna repeat myself if you weren't listening." O'Neill muttered to himself. "Try to pass on the entire meaning of man's existence and nobody pays attention."
Daniel tried to apologize. "No. Please tell me again --"
O'Neill, however, cut him off by directing his gaze across the lake and pointing to the three figures standing on the opposite bank. Jackson could see Teal'c, Thor and a member of the Nox, Anteaus, fishing.
Jack voiced his thoughts. "You can tell a lot about a man...uh, *alien* from watching them fish."
Daniel looked at the trio in puzzlement. "Really?"
O'Neill continued. "Look at Thor, showed him once and he's been doing it perfect every time - that's just wrong."
The small gray alien cast his fly-fishing line out with a perfect snap and everyone watched as the thin, silvery nylon snaked through the air in a graceful arc before landing with gentle ripples on the surface of the lake.
The colonel breathed out a disgusted sigh. "When people are perfect, it just means they're saving all their mistakes for one huge one. They're bound to screw up big," Jack widened his arms as if telling a fish tale, "real big."
"Hi guys!" Sam yelled to them as she tore by on a jet ski, then performed a flawless barrel-roll with the Kawasaki STX-15F.
"Hi Sam," Jack yelled and waved to her.
Jackson's eyes widened and he sputtered a comment. "I didn't know Sam could do that with a jet ski..."
O'Neill shrugged his shoulders and continued with his observations on fishing. "And Anteaus…he's *talking* to the fish."
Jack whistled across the lake and waved broadly. "Hey! You're suppose to *eat* them!"
The Nox man waved back, smiled a simple child-like grin and raised his middle finger in an obscene gesture toward O'Neill.
"Yeah, whatever," the colonel shook his head in disgust, "twig-headed little freak. "Ya know, if it came down to me or that fish - he would choose the fish."
Daniel was stunned at the uncharacteristic behavior of the gentle alien. He threw it off and focused on Jack, "uh…and Teal'c?"
"Shifty. Doesn't want to put a hook through a worm but will blast a burning hole in a guy with a staff weapon without blinking."
"Hi guys!" Carter came cruising back from the way she'd gone earlier, now smoothly streaming past in a giant banana-shaped paddle boat.
"Hi Sam." Jack waved to her and commented to Daniel. "She's something."
"Uhh, yeah, she is," The scientist watched Carter casually slip from view around a bend in the lake.
"And me?" Daniel queried jokingly, turning his head toward Jack. "What does the way I fish say about me."
O'Neill turned to face Jackson. "Daniel, *you* suck at fishing."
The archaeologist recoiled in shock as if the comment had been a physical slap, and pressed a hand to his forehead. He didn't hear Sam walk up from behind them.
"Hey, the water is great. Are you coming in?" Carter stood beside them in a full cold-water diving suit with flippers and a snorkel and mask perched on her face.
"Sure," O'Neill got up and waved to Jackson as he left with Sam. Daniel felt an inexplicable panic as he watched the two figures walk away from him. Like he was being left behind, with them totally unaware of his predicament.
He tried to stand but his body was weighed down, as if sand filled his limbs. He yelled to them, desperate to connect with his teammates, desperate to have them hear his call for help.
"Jack!! Sam!?"
He tried one last time with a harsh scream that left his throat raw. "JACK!!!"
But they didn't hear and Daniel was left alone, his heart racing and a sharp pain piercing through his skull.
…There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he, turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me…
The slow turning of a mirror ball hanging from the ceiling bounced specks of reflected light hypnotically off the walls of the richly decorated ballroom. Daniel rested his left hand lightly at the small of Oma Desala's back as they danced. The slippery silver fabric of the brunette's gown was cool and refreshing against the warmth of Jackson's palm.
Oma's hair was swept up and pinned in a gentle fashion. A few spiraling tendrils fell loosely to the nape of her neck and occasionally brushed her collarbones, which were exposed by the scoop-necked, long sleeved dress.
Her gown shimmered with an ethereal luminescence. The ivory-colored satin clung delicately to her form and draped in a long, slimming line down to her ankles. Edging the trim of the skirt were extremely fine white feathers, which wisped and fluttered as Daniel spun his date in a smooth circle. He didn't have his glasses on but that didn't seem to hamper his vision one bit.
"You know," he commented, "Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only she did it backwards and in high heels." He smiled at his observation and closed his eyes, losing himself in the gentle tempo produced by the orchestra.
"Daniel."
Oma's soft voice drew him back from the trance-like state that he felt himself slipping into. He opened his eyes and grinned at her with a happy satisfaction. He'd worn tuxedos a few times in his life but they'd always been rather constricting and uncomfortable. The ensemble he was clothed in now, however, was nothing like that.
White trousers with crisp creases down the front. White cotton shirt, made stylish by French cuffs and silver cufflinks, which accented the ivory silk vest that hugged his torso.
Topping off the tuxedo was a classic waist coat with long tails. The 9-mm M9 slung in the holster at his side was a bit awkward. He wondered why he'd brought it; he couldn't even remember putting it on when he'd gotten dressed. But he adjusted to it, nonetheless, and continued to dance.
Daniel could feel the cool air of the ballroom breeze through his slicked back hair. He glanced down at his highly polished dress shoes, and watched, mesmerized, as his feet performed a myriad of intricate, flowing dance moves. A quick progressive waltz step, a reverse box, rotate right leading into hesitation forward and back. He had no idea he could dance so well.
"You know - I am good at this." He smiled again at Oma. Her expression, however, was solemn and when she spoke her voice was soft and firm.
"Daniel."
Jackson drew his date closer, placing his cheek a hair's breadth from hers. Synchronized in a fluid motion, they traveled across the ballroom floor.
"You're a great partner, Oma."
"Daniel, you must listen to me."
Jackson couldn't resist the urge to dip Oma suddenly before pivoting sharply to swing her in a spiral, allowing her head to miss the floor by centimeters. And the orchestra played on. The archaeologist could just catch fragments of verse.
…I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who'll watch over me…
He spun Oma around quickly. Several sweeping circles allowed the skirt of her dress to catch on the air and billow outward.
"Daniel, you're being held prisoner."
Jackson didn't acknowledge Oma's comment. A sharp pain pierced through his temple. The spins had left him dizzy and his legs shaky. His vision had gotten a bit blurry and he wished he knew where his glasses were.
"It's warm in here." Daniel tried to break his grip from Oma in order to remove his now stifling jacket but she would not let him pull away. She held his sweating hand and drew his body back toward her own.
"You've been captured by Shesmu. He's probing your mind for information about the Ancients."
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head as if to negate the truth of her statement.
"You scratched me off that dance card, Oma."
"You're friends are coming for you Daniel, but Shesmu is insistent."
The name was familiar but it took him a moment to place it.
The Egyptian Book of the Dead described him - the one deemed the 'Headsman of Osiris'. 'Lord of the Blood. Demon-God of the Underworld who beheaded sinners by orders from Osiris.'
Shesmu served Osiris, carried out orders, knew what Osiris knew.
Daniel's foot landed hard on the toe of Oma's left shoe. She smiled gently at him as if to say she understood that it wasn't his fault. He fumbled over an apology.
"Can we sit down for a minute?" He was feeling dizzy and he wished the lights and the music would stop shifting and intermingling together.
"No, Daniel....your friends are coming."
…Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me…
Jackson felt his knees buckle. A searing pain in his head made his stomach tighten into a nauseous ball. He gasped sharply as an electric shock coursed through his body and limbs. Daniel clung to the woman whose arms encircled him and he rested his head heavily on her shoulder. The cool fabric of her white silk dress did little to alleviate the heat that now engulfed him.
"Oma…They're hurting me."
She held him firmly around the waist. "Daniel, I am with you."
He lifted his head from her shoulder, desperately seeking solace and escape in her soft dark eyes. He was unaware of the red stain soaking into the shoulder of her gown. Unaware of the thin line of blood that trickled from one corner of his mouth and from his right ear.
He could barely support himself. Oma's hold on him was all that kept Daniel upright. Another jolt of electricity shot through him, forcing a hoarse yell from his throat. He reached for Oma's protective embrace.
"Your friends are almost here, Daniel…Hang on…" She whispered to the figure in her arms "…hang on."
He tried to remember…what was it? Something he had to do. Try to remember…try to remember…to breathe. If he just closed his eyes, just for a moment, maybe then it would all go away. . .
A soft voice echoed in his ears. "Daniel, you've got to stay awake…"
He hoped that if he stayed crouched in the corner of the darkened room then perhaps he could figure out what was going on. Without his glasses Daniel had a difficult time making out the boundaries of the space he was in.
"Where am I?" he said aloud, to no one in particular.
"Here," replied a voice from the other side of the room.
The scientist narrowed his eyes, trying to see if there was someone else with him. "Which is…?"
"Your mind's safe place." The figure from the darkness was coming closer and then Daniel saw a hand extend towards him.
"Son, let me help you up."
"General?"
George Hammond stood before him, hand still outstretched. But Daniel didn't take it. Not yet. Instead he looked around the room and tried to suppress a cold shiver. "I've been here before."
Jackson stared at the four white walls. "That means I'm. . ."
"Insane? Not exactly." Hammond chuckled softly and reached down to ease Daniel out of the corner and into a standing position as the scientist responded to the general's statement.
"That's comforting…in that 'talking to a figment of your imagination' sort of way."
"Dr. Jackson, I'm here at your request." The General paused for a moment in contemplation. "I'd like to think I'm here to protect one of my people."
"Sooo…this is a good thing?"
"Son, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."
Daniel squinted slightly at the SGC's commander. "Can I go back?"
"Anytime." George said with a warm smile. He withdrew Daniel's glasses from the breast pocket of his shirt and pressed them gently into Jackson's hands. "They're waiting for you."
"Where's all this blood coming from?"
"Temp one-oh-four . . ."
"I want electrolyte and nitrogen panels . . ."
"Colonel, I don't know when . . ."
"Fever's broken . . ."
The buzzing noise and the hum seemed familiar, along with the antiseptic smell and the feel of rough cotton at his fingertips. Tendrils of sleep fell away, replaced by an awareness of his heartbeat and a mild headache. Daniel closed his eyes tighter as he was assaulted with the experience of waking up in the infirmary of the SGC and trying to figure out how he got there.
"Carter, explain to me again why capturing Shamu was so important?"
Jackson ached all over and his voice reflected the sentiment. "*Shesmu*, Jack. We weren't going after a goa'uld killer whale."
"Janet, he's awake." Daniel recognized Sam's voice.
The archaeologist took in a deep breath of air and let it escape slowly. "How long?"
"Two days," replied Fraser.
Daniel knew she would be attacking him with the penlight in a second. He contemplated a pre-emptive strike to bat it out of her hands, but thought it would take less effort to just open his eyes.
His action was rewarded with Janet's smile accompanied by the overly bright penlight as she checked his pupil reaction. "How do you feel?"
Daniel's only response was a flat expression and raised eyebrows. He felt like, and assumed he looked like, crap; so why state the obvious. Instead he addressed the team who had gathered by his bed.
"I remember losing you guys." Jackson raised one hand to rub his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he recalled visions of Thanksgiving and fishing. "And…some dreams. . . How did you find me? Did you get Shesmu?"
"Glenda the Good Witch told us where to find you." answered O'Neill, his arms were crossed in an aloof manner, but Daniel could see the older man was relieved. "Shamu got away." Jack unconsciously clenched the fists tucked against his body.
"Oma Desala sends her greetings and wishes you well." Teal'c added, bowing his head slightly to Daniel.
Carter answered the lingering question in Jackson's mind. "As far as we know he didn't get any information about the Ancients from you."
Jackson yawned. He felt spent after the quick conversation. Memories toyed in his subconscious, flashing before him as he closed his eyes. "Hmmm. . . She's a good dancer," he said out loud.
He was giving in to the pull of healing sleep when a thought came to mind. He cracked his lids to fix O'Neill with a glance. "Hey…the Nox- do you ever wonder if they're not as innocent as they look?"
Jack patted his friend's blanketed foot in reassurance. "I'm sure you're tired, Daniel, don't make us think there's any permanent damage. Get some rest."
Daniel ran the tip of his tongue across his dry lips and nodded his head. Rest seemed like a wonderful idea. He slipped into a dreamless sleep with a gentle tune playing in his head.
'…Oh how I need
Someone to watch over me.'
HOME
Authors: MOG m.mogavero@comcast.net & Tidia tidiap@comcast.net
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: We do not profit from the writing of fanfiction. WE are also borrowing the song Someone to Watch Over Me.
Seasons: Let's say all
Comments: Well, what can I not say. This was great to write with someone else--it was exhilirating for us both and we hope everyone enjoys it.
Daniel sat down at the food-laden table. A baked turkey, bronzed from basting and hot out of the oven sat as a steaming centerpiece surrounded by all the traditional Thanksgiving Day fixings. Stuffing, mashed potatoes, kiwis colored red, kaleidoscopic alcoholic drinks with little paper umbrellas.
Jackson silently questioned the presence of the foot-high pyramid of Hostess Sno-balls resting on a silver platter, but since they had to have been brought by one of his friends he figured it was a tradition that wouldn't hurt anything by being observed.
The long table comfortably sat twenty. Thanksgiving was being celebrated in the gate room. This struck him as a bit odd as well. However, no one else seemed to find anything strange about it so the archaeologist said nothing. Everyone was having a great time.
Though Janet seemed to be laughing too hard. A slight wheezing laugh interspersed with the occasional snort. Evidently, she had already had a little too much to drink.
Sam clinked her fork against the glass she held in order to get everyone's attention. "Are we going to say what we're thankful for?"
Jack put down his beer midway to his mouth. "Two things—Tivo and the satellite sports package."
It wasn't an unexpected thing to hear from O'Neill, but Daniel was a bit surprised to hear the serious, confirming murmurs of his friends and co-workers as they solemnly agreed with the great blessing of the two items that Jack had mentioned.
Teal'c stood and gestured with one hand across the table, a hush came over everyone seated around him. "People of the Taur'i…long ago your ancestors came from across the wide ocean to settle on this land. You survived with help from the native Indians, you built homes, bred animals and raised yams."
Daniel's brow furrowed slightly as he watched Teal'c present his speech as if he were a second grader performing in a school play. Broad, stiff hand gestures mimed the motion of waves on the wide ocean, the building of pointy-roofed houses, and the harvesting of crops. The hand gestures grew larger and more animated as Teal'c continued.
"You gather in this tradition of thankfulness - a celebration of peace and love and abundance. You share with one another and build a family from those who are unrelated by blood."
Daniel listened to the eloquent words his friend offered up.
"You give selflessly of yourselves and sacrifice for those around you. Not only do you fight against the goa'uld in battles of the physical, but you fight against them in symbolic ways each time you put the well-being of your comrades above your own."
"But," continued Teal'c, "I do not understand *why* or *how* you can be thankful when the Native American people, those who helped inspire this honored celebration of stuffed meat, have been oppressed, abused, deceived, and treated so *poorly*! I am glad they killed your General Custer."
The sip of Mai-Tai that Jackson had just taken threatened to come back out at the sudden turn of tone.
Teal'c continued. "I am reminded of the Jaffa - trying to gain freedom from tyranny."
The large man leaned forward and slammed his fist on the table, causing the plates and platters of food to give a stunned leap into the air before settling back down.
"Perhaps the day is near when the Jaffa shall give these tribes weapons and help them rise up as we did from our oppressors! Yes. When that happens, *then* I shall stand proudly before you and give thanks for baked yams coated with melted marshmallows."
The Jaffa looked to each person in turn, finally settling on Daniel. Jackson felt uncomfortable under the dark gaze until Teal'c revealed a huge, toothy grin and joyfully spoke. "Tell us Daniel Jackson. What is it that *you* are thankful for?"
The scientist cleared his throat, not sure what to say after hearing his friend's declamation. He felt a sudden wave of warmth ripple through his body as if the temperature in the gate room had just risen abruptly.
"Uh…Well, I was going to say what you said."
"No you weren't," replied Jack from across the table, challenging his answer.
"You're right," Daniel smirked. "I was going to say I'll be thankful if Jack never gives Teal'c another history lesson."
O'Neill took a sip of his beer, then studied the condensation on the surface of the brown bottle before retorting, "Wait till I get to World War II."
"…and *that*, Danny boy, is why we are here."
Jack was sitting next to Daniel on a large rock overlooking a nearby lake. "I got it all from when the Ancients' info was downloaded into my brain. I just remembered it last night. BAM! Came to me clear as a bell right in the middle of 'Young Frankenstein'."
Daniel shook his head. Wasn't he just…? No, that had obviously been a dream. He stared at the man seated beside him. O'Neill had just told him something very important. He'd missed the meaning of life from Jack?
"What?" Daniel asked. A slight sound of desperation colored his tone.
The colonel favored Jackson with the kind of look Daniel often gave O'Neill. "You weren't listening, were you? I'm not gonna repeat myself if you weren't listening." O'Neill muttered to himself. "Try to pass on the entire meaning of man's existence and nobody pays attention."
Daniel tried to apologize. "No. Please tell me again --"
O'Neill, however, cut him off by directing his gaze across the lake and pointing to the three figures standing on the opposite bank. Jackson could see Teal'c, Thor and a member of the Nox, Anteaus, fishing.
Jack voiced his thoughts. "You can tell a lot about a man...uh, *alien* from watching them fish."
Daniel looked at the trio in puzzlement. "Really?"
O'Neill continued. "Look at Thor, showed him once and he's been doing it perfect every time - that's just wrong."
The small gray alien cast his fly-fishing line out with a perfect snap and everyone watched as the thin, silvery nylon snaked through the air in a graceful arc before landing with gentle ripples on the surface of the lake.
The colonel breathed out a disgusted sigh. "When people are perfect, it just means they're saving all their mistakes for one huge one. They're bound to screw up big," Jack widened his arms as if telling a fish tale, "real big."
"Hi guys!" Sam yelled to them as she tore by on a jet ski, then performed a flawless barrel-roll with the Kawasaki STX-15F.
"Hi Sam," Jack yelled and waved to her.
Jackson's eyes widened and he sputtered a comment. "I didn't know Sam could do that with a jet ski..."
O'Neill shrugged his shoulders and continued with his observations on fishing. "And Anteaus…he's *talking* to the fish."
Jack whistled across the lake and waved broadly. "Hey! You're suppose to *eat* them!"
The Nox man waved back, smiled a simple child-like grin and raised his middle finger in an obscene gesture toward O'Neill.
"Yeah, whatever," the colonel shook his head in disgust, "twig-headed little freak. "Ya know, if it came down to me or that fish - he would choose the fish."
Daniel was stunned at the uncharacteristic behavior of the gentle alien. He threw it off and focused on Jack, "uh…and Teal'c?"
"Shifty. Doesn't want to put a hook through a worm but will blast a burning hole in a guy with a staff weapon without blinking."
"Hi guys!" Carter came cruising back from the way she'd gone earlier, now smoothly streaming past in a giant banana-shaped paddle boat.
"Hi Sam." Jack waved to her and commented to Daniel. "She's something."
"Uhh, yeah, she is," The scientist watched Carter casually slip from view around a bend in the lake.
"And me?" Daniel queried jokingly, turning his head toward Jack. "What does the way I fish say about me."
O'Neill turned to face Jackson. "Daniel, *you* suck at fishing."
The archaeologist recoiled in shock as if the comment had been a physical slap, and pressed a hand to his forehead. He didn't hear Sam walk up from behind them.
"Hey, the water is great. Are you coming in?" Carter stood beside them in a full cold-water diving suit with flippers and a snorkel and mask perched on her face.
"Sure," O'Neill got up and waved to Jackson as he left with Sam. Daniel felt an inexplicable panic as he watched the two figures walk away from him. Like he was being left behind, with them totally unaware of his predicament.
He tried to stand but his body was weighed down, as if sand filled his limbs. He yelled to them, desperate to connect with his teammates, desperate to have them hear his call for help.
"Jack!! Sam!?"
He tried one last time with a harsh scream that left his throat raw. "JACK!!!"
But they didn't hear and Daniel was left alone, his heart racing and a sharp pain piercing through his skull.
…There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he, turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me…
The slow turning of a mirror ball hanging from the ceiling bounced specks of reflected light hypnotically off the walls of the richly decorated ballroom. Daniel rested his left hand lightly at the small of Oma Desala's back as they danced. The slippery silver fabric of the brunette's gown was cool and refreshing against the warmth of Jackson's palm.
Oma's hair was swept up and pinned in a gentle fashion. A few spiraling tendrils fell loosely to the nape of her neck and occasionally brushed her collarbones, which were exposed by the scoop-necked, long sleeved dress.
Her gown shimmered with an ethereal luminescence. The ivory-colored satin clung delicately to her form and draped in a long, slimming line down to her ankles. Edging the trim of the skirt were extremely fine white feathers, which wisped and fluttered as Daniel spun his date in a smooth circle. He didn't have his glasses on but that didn't seem to hamper his vision one bit.
"You know," he commented, "Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only she did it backwards and in high heels." He smiled at his observation and closed his eyes, losing himself in the gentle tempo produced by the orchestra.
"Daniel."
Oma's soft voice drew him back from the trance-like state that he felt himself slipping into. He opened his eyes and grinned at her with a happy satisfaction. He'd worn tuxedos a few times in his life but they'd always been rather constricting and uncomfortable. The ensemble he was clothed in now, however, was nothing like that.
White trousers with crisp creases down the front. White cotton shirt, made stylish by French cuffs and silver cufflinks, which accented the ivory silk vest that hugged his torso.
Topping off the tuxedo was a classic waist coat with long tails. The 9-mm M9 slung in the holster at his side was a bit awkward. He wondered why he'd brought it; he couldn't even remember putting it on when he'd gotten dressed. But he adjusted to it, nonetheless, and continued to dance.
Daniel could feel the cool air of the ballroom breeze through his slicked back hair. He glanced down at his highly polished dress shoes, and watched, mesmerized, as his feet performed a myriad of intricate, flowing dance moves. A quick progressive waltz step, a reverse box, rotate right leading into hesitation forward and back. He had no idea he could dance so well.
"You know - I am good at this." He smiled again at Oma. Her expression, however, was solemn and when she spoke her voice was soft and firm.
"Daniel."
Jackson drew his date closer, placing his cheek a hair's breadth from hers. Synchronized in a fluid motion, they traveled across the ballroom floor.
"You're a great partner, Oma."
"Daniel, you must listen to me."
Jackson couldn't resist the urge to dip Oma suddenly before pivoting sharply to swing her in a spiral, allowing her head to miss the floor by centimeters. And the orchestra played on. The archaeologist could just catch fragments of verse.
…I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who'll watch over me…
He spun Oma around quickly. Several sweeping circles allowed the skirt of her dress to catch on the air and billow outward.
"Daniel, you're being held prisoner."
Jackson didn't acknowledge Oma's comment. A sharp pain pierced through his temple. The spins had left him dizzy and his legs shaky. His vision had gotten a bit blurry and he wished he knew where his glasses were.
"It's warm in here." Daniel tried to break his grip from Oma in order to remove his now stifling jacket but she would not let him pull away. She held his sweating hand and drew his body back toward her own.
"You've been captured by Shesmu. He's probing your mind for information about the Ancients."
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head as if to negate the truth of her statement.
"You scratched me off that dance card, Oma."
"You're friends are coming for you Daniel, but Shesmu is insistent."
The name was familiar but it took him a moment to place it.
The Egyptian Book of the Dead described him - the one deemed the 'Headsman of Osiris'. 'Lord of the Blood. Demon-God of the Underworld who beheaded sinners by orders from Osiris.'
Shesmu served Osiris, carried out orders, knew what Osiris knew.
Daniel's foot landed hard on the toe of Oma's left shoe. She smiled gently at him as if to say she understood that it wasn't his fault. He fumbled over an apology.
"Can we sit down for a minute?" He was feeling dizzy and he wished the lights and the music would stop shifting and intermingling together.
"No, Daniel....your friends are coming."
…Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me…
Jackson felt his knees buckle. A searing pain in his head made his stomach tighten into a nauseous ball. He gasped sharply as an electric shock coursed through his body and limbs. Daniel clung to the woman whose arms encircled him and he rested his head heavily on her shoulder. The cool fabric of her white silk dress did little to alleviate the heat that now engulfed him.
"Oma…They're hurting me."
She held him firmly around the waist. "Daniel, I am with you."
He lifted his head from her shoulder, desperately seeking solace and escape in her soft dark eyes. He was unaware of the red stain soaking into the shoulder of her gown. Unaware of the thin line of blood that trickled from one corner of his mouth and from his right ear.
He could barely support himself. Oma's hold on him was all that kept Daniel upright. Another jolt of electricity shot through him, forcing a hoarse yell from his throat. He reached for Oma's protective embrace.
"Your friends are almost here, Daniel…Hang on…" She whispered to the figure in her arms "…hang on."
He tried to remember…what was it? Something he had to do. Try to remember…try to remember…to breathe. If he just closed his eyes, just for a moment, maybe then it would all go away. . .
A soft voice echoed in his ears. "Daniel, you've got to stay awake…"
He hoped that if he stayed crouched in the corner of the darkened room then perhaps he could figure out what was going on. Without his glasses Daniel had a difficult time making out the boundaries of the space he was in.
"Where am I?" he said aloud, to no one in particular.
"Here," replied a voice from the other side of the room.
The scientist narrowed his eyes, trying to see if there was someone else with him. "Which is…?"
"Your mind's safe place." The figure from the darkness was coming closer and then Daniel saw a hand extend towards him.
"Son, let me help you up."
"General?"
George Hammond stood before him, hand still outstretched. But Daniel didn't take it. Not yet. Instead he looked around the room and tried to suppress a cold shiver. "I've been here before."
Jackson stared at the four white walls. "That means I'm. . ."
"Insane? Not exactly." Hammond chuckled softly and reached down to ease Daniel out of the corner and into a standing position as the scientist responded to the general's statement.
"That's comforting…in that 'talking to a figment of your imagination' sort of way."
"Dr. Jackson, I'm here at your request." The General paused for a moment in contemplation. "I'd like to think I'm here to protect one of my people."
"Sooo…this is a good thing?"
"Son, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."
Daniel squinted slightly at the SGC's commander. "Can I go back?"
"Anytime." George said with a warm smile. He withdrew Daniel's glasses from the breast pocket of his shirt and pressed them gently into Jackson's hands. "They're waiting for you."
"Where's all this blood coming from?"
"Temp one-oh-four . . ."
"I want electrolyte and nitrogen panels . . ."
"Colonel, I don't know when . . ."
"Fever's broken . . ."
The buzzing noise and the hum seemed familiar, along with the antiseptic smell and the feel of rough cotton at his fingertips. Tendrils of sleep fell away, replaced by an awareness of his heartbeat and a mild headache. Daniel closed his eyes tighter as he was assaulted with the experience of waking up in the infirmary of the SGC and trying to figure out how he got there.
"Carter, explain to me again why capturing Shamu was so important?"
Jackson ached all over and his voice reflected the sentiment. "*Shesmu*, Jack. We weren't going after a goa'uld killer whale."
"Janet, he's awake." Daniel recognized Sam's voice.
The archaeologist took in a deep breath of air and let it escape slowly. "How long?"
"Two days," replied Fraser.
Daniel knew she would be attacking him with the penlight in a second. He contemplated a pre-emptive strike to bat it out of her hands, but thought it would take less effort to just open his eyes.
His action was rewarded with Janet's smile accompanied by the overly bright penlight as she checked his pupil reaction. "How do you feel?"
Daniel's only response was a flat expression and raised eyebrows. He felt like, and assumed he looked like, crap; so why state the obvious. Instead he addressed the team who had gathered by his bed.
"I remember losing you guys." Jackson raised one hand to rub his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he recalled visions of Thanksgiving and fishing. "And…some dreams. . . How did you find me? Did you get Shesmu?"
"Glenda the Good Witch told us where to find you." answered O'Neill, his arms were crossed in an aloof manner, but Daniel could see the older man was relieved. "Shamu got away." Jack unconsciously clenched the fists tucked against his body.
"Oma Desala sends her greetings and wishes you well." Teal'c added, bowing his head slightly to Daniel.
Carter answered the lingering question in Jackson's mind. "As far as we know he didn't get any information about the Ancients from you."
Jackson yawned. He felt spent after the quick conversation. Memories toyed in his subconscious, flashing before him as he closed his eyes. "Hmmm. . . She's a good dancer," he said out loud.
He was giving in to the pull of healing sleep when a thought came to mind. He cracked his lids to fix O'Neill with a glance. "Hey…the Nox- do you ever wonder if they're not as innocent as they look?"
Jack patted his friend's blanketed foot in reassurance. "I'm sure you're tired, Daniel, don't make us think there's any permanent damage. Get some rest."
Daniel ran the tip of his tongue across his dry lips and nodded his head. Rest seemed like a wonderful idea. He slipped into a dreamless sleep with a gentle tune playing in his head.
'…Oh how I need
Someone to watch over me.'
HOME