"O'Neill."

Jack turned away from the empty desertland before him. He gazed past the Jaffa, taking stock of the teachers and students working on the dig, before meeting Teal'c's gaze. "Yea. What is it?"

Teal'c lowered his voice. "Daniel Jackson and I just spoke with the prisoner."

Jack looked for Daniel, but he couldn't see him. "What for?"

"The man had been asking for Daniel Jackson repeatedly during the day. I notified him of this fact, and Daniel Jackson spoke with him for a few moments. The prisoner renewed his offer to Daniel Jackson, and spoke at some length of the device which his superior has acquired."

"I don't like this," Jack said. "Daniel turned him down?"

"Indeed."

"The third time he's been asked to work for the NID," Jack asked. "What is with these guys? Don't they get that no means no?"

"I do not believe so," Teal'c returned. "I found myself disturbed at the demeanor of the prisoner. Daniel Jackson was unnerved as well."

"Yea. How's Daniel doing?"

Teal'c raised a brow. "I believe he was disconcerted by speaking with the prisoner. Perhaps you should determine his feelings on the subject." A not-so-subtle prod for Jack to talk to Daniel.

"Good idea," Jack murmured.

"Yes."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Cover the perimeter, and tell Carter to keep an eye on our guest, huh?"

Teal'c nodded, and Jack took several steps from the Jaffa, scanning the site for Daniel. He saw the archaeologist in question moving through the palm grove, empty-handed, and surmised from his direction that Daniel was heading toward the sea.

Without rushing, Jack began moving in the same direction, nodding to those he passed. He emerged from the grove several minutes later, glad that he had been on higher ground when he'd spotted Daniel.

He was growing a little frustrated searching for his wayward archaeologist, deprived of the ability to shout for him without calling unwanted attention to himself. He made his way through a stretch of land about ten yards in width that was covered with scrub, before the land dropped down to sandy dunes leading to the sea. As he reached the drop-off point, he found himself high above the dunes, looking down on the beach.

He scanned the sands, and saw Daniel standing motionless in the even sand of high tide. It was low tide now, and the ground was firmest where it had been packed by the waves, near where Daniel was positioned, facing the ocean. Knowing that Daniel probably wouldn't be able to hear him, Jack didn't bother shouting. Instead, he slithered down the sand, moving over the dunes toward his linguist.

He reached the top of the dune, and saw Daniel moving slowly, a knife in each hand. His motions were easy and unhurried. His entire body was in harmony, legs and arms moving with a grace foreign to the man Jack had met five years ago. Movements that Jack could recognize as strikes and blocks blended seamlessly into one another as Daniel practiced.

He was so concentrated on the movements, on incorporating knife fighting with the traditional Budo, that Jack's presence barely registered on his consciousness. Daniel continued to move, speeding up slightly.

Jack started as Daniel abruptly stopped. "Jack," he said.

"Daniel," Jack said, looking him up and down.

Daniel waited, raising a brow.

"I heard that the rat in the tent had something to say to you."

"Yeah." Daniel glanced at him. He concentrated on his boots, lacing them up almost one-handed. "He asked me to work for the NID again."

"That makes, what? Three times?"

Daniel nodded, replacing his knives - one in each boot. "When did you start - " Jack motioned at the blades.

Daniel said, "I always carry something in the desert."

"Always?"

Daniel shrugged, reaching for his shirt. He mopped his face and chest, squinting. "I was on a dig in Central America about ten years ago, when a group of local outlaws overran our camp. One of our guides, Jorje, was an expert at knife-fighting. He taught me a bit."

Jack nodded. "Smart."

"On Abydos, there was always the risk of poisonous desert animals. I got a lot of practice." Daniel stood and looked at Jack. "Did you need me for something?"

Yea, Danny. I need you back with us. SG-1 - hell, the whole SGC, needs you. We always have. What can I do to get you to come back? Can you ever forgive us?

"Ah, yea. We - uh, we need to talk about what's going down when we get back to base."

"Huh?" Daniel looked puzzled. Jack could've kicked himself. Talk about a lame excuse.

Jack scrambled for something more plausible. "We're moving up the ship-out date. We're getting out tomorrow morning, early. Before the dirt-grubbers pull the tarps off and start work."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

Jack looked at the sea, pulled his sunglasses off and faced Daniel. "I don't want the NID to find anything when they come calling."

"You think they'll be here soon?"

"I'm kinda surprised they haven't shown up yet."

Daniel didn't look very surprised. He nodded slowly.

"You still with us?" Jack held his breath, hoping that he wasn't pushing, wasn't sending any signals that would scare Danny off.

Daniel glanced at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack." The archaeologist moved easily through the sand toward the dunes.

"Danny? Where you going?"

Daniel didn't even glance back. "Gotta talk to Mac, and then pack my stuff."

Jack scowled at mention of the energetic, fiery Scot. He mumbled under his breath, "Napoleonic power-monger. Almost as bad as. . ."

"Did you say something, Jack?"

"Who, me?"

Daniel turned and gazed at the too-innocent expression on the Colonel's face. A smile twitched on his lips, and he ducked his head before it broke past his control. Turning away, he couldn't hold in the grin."You know," he said casually, "Mac's been writing postscripts on some of my letters to Janet. They're getting along famously."

Jack groaned. "My worst nightmare."

Daniel grinned. The two walked back to the camp in a companionable silence, which was a change from the recent tension-filled periods of quiet. They weren't back to their usual banter, but things were easy between them for the first time in over a year.

They split on reaching the camp, Daniel to explain his leaving to Mac, and Jack to let Teal'c and Sam know about their moved-up departure.

"Didn't want to give Daniel the chance to change his mind?" Carter asked shrewdly once he told her. Teal'c also looked as if he suspected this to be O'Neill's true reason for early lift off.

"When their agents don't check in on schedule, the NID will send more out to find out what happened," Jack retorted, neatly sidestepping the question and changing the subject at the same time.

The hard fact sobered Carter. "In all probability, they're on their way."

"And I plan to be somewhere else by the time they get here. Preferably several thousand miles east of here."

"West, sir," Carter responded."It's shorter that way."

Jack raised a brow. "Okay then!"

Carter smiled, before turning and going back to the chopper. "I will assist Major Carter in preparing the helicopter," Teal'c said.

"You - do that." Jack turned back to the pavilion. The lunch bell had been rung when Daniel and Jack were on the beach. The archaeologist was talking with Galya and Mac, letting them know that he was planning to leave.

He saw the teacher's table as a lone, quiet island in the sea of chattering students. Daniel was the only one speaking, and the professors and grad students looked unhappy. Mac said something, and Daniel frowned at him, responding emphatically. Galya made a quiet statement, and Daniel's face relaxed. He spoke with them for a few more minutes, and Mac nodded. The grizzled professor caught sight of Jack, and an angry, mutinous expression crossed his face.

Daniel glanced around the table, stood and made to leave. Louie caught his arm, easing him back down, while Ziv offered him food. Apparently, Daniel had forgotten to eat. Jack was both heartened to see others taking care of Daniel, and pained to realize that he had lost that privilege.

He saw that Mac had excused himself and was heading his way. Jack whistled soundlessly, and turned, moving to a less exposed location. If they were gonna do this, he didn't need any witnesses.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the Scot demanded.

Jack felt the shorter man bristling at him. "I'm taking the prisoner, and I'm taking Daniel, and we're going back to the States."

"Do you have any idea what you did to that boy?" Mac demanded. "When he came here, he was silent. He rarely spoke, and held himself so tightly we were afraid he'd break if he fell. It took us a few days, but he opened up. He relaxed, he was happy. Then you showed up, and it's like the last three and a half weeks never happened. The passion he's had for life is gone - buried."

"I know," Jack responded quietly.

"The hell you do," Mac snapped. The older professor was incensed.

Jack felt his temper, and his voice, rise. "Dammit, get off your high horse! I've known Daniel much longer than you. Hell, he was my best friend. Do you think I can't see how he's changed? Do you think I don't know how badly I screwed up?"

"No, I don't think you do," Mac retorted. "What do you think going back there is going to do to him? He's planning on coming back."

Jack paled. "He - he doesn't want - "

Mac snorted. "He wants to go back, or he wouldn't be going. He wants to go back, he wants your friendship, more than he wants this." Mac gestured widely, encompassing the entire dig in the motion. Jack was staggered. "I think he's preparing himself just in case. But so help me God, if you throw that boy away and he comes back here, trying to put himself back together, there will be nowhere on this planet you'll be able to hide from us."

Jack believed the older professor. "I - we - won't make that mistake again."

Mac eyed him disbelievingly. "I don't know how you did it, but you hurt him. I don't think he'll let you close enough to do it again." Jack closed his eyes in pain. "If he does," Mac continued, "he's a better man than I."

- - - - - - - -

Aw, come on. I wasn't gonna make it THAT easy. After all, I strive for realism, here. (grins).