~*~*~*~*~
Tap. Tap, tap, click, tap....

Relena opened her eyes to the dim light of Sally's laptop, watching the doctor finish up a sentence and rub at the back of her neck in thought. "I thought only Heero worked on his computer this early."

Sally's lips bent in a smile. "Preventer habit." She nodded toward the bedside table. "He left a note."

Relena picked up the small square of paper, checking that it wasn't a flash-and-burn page. Heero sometimes forgot he wasn't in the field.

No. Regular white paper, with two neat words inked on. Ninmu kanryou.

Mission accomplished, Relena thought, gratified. Short, to the point, nothing that would breach security, yet thoughtful. Oh, Heero.

He'd always been thoughtful. Even when he'd almost shot her. She'd taken his space helmet, seen his face; she could definitively link him to Operation Meteor. Her name and position didn't matter; she was the one person who could betray him to the Goa'uld, so she had to be eliminated.

In a way, she'd loved Heero for that.

If only you weren't what you are....

But she was a Peacecraft, and he was a Gundam pilot. Genetically altered in ways the philosophy of genetic reconsideration considered dubious at best.

Like Milliardo.

Milliardo, her gentle brother, who had abandoned the Peacecraft name to become Zechs Merquise. And not only to hide, as her foster parents had hidden her. He had abandoned their parents' way, turning onto the bloody path of revenge, flying and fighting as only a Gundam pilot could.

And even now that the war with Macha was over, Milliardo wasn't coming back.

"You need us, little sister," Zechs had told her that heart-breaking night, after the screaming fight was over. "Sanq needs us. Not as Preventers. Not even as Guardians. You need Gundam pilots.

"No genetic surgery, Relena. Not for me. Not for any of us." He gave her a bitter smile. "You know it doesn't work on us anyway."

"I spoke to the doctors. With the information the Preventers seized from the Mad Five, there's a chance-"

"Relena, are you even listening to yourself? Those five designed Wing Zero to face Macha. They never intended their work to be undone. At best, it's the chance to have our life codes savaged, so we can live crippled. Almost normal." Pale blond hair shook. "No."

She'd choked back tears, fists clenched and white. "And you're all agreed on this? Even-"

"Heero would kill the next doctor who got near him with life code alterants. If our Wings didn't beat him to it." Zechs had held her then, letting her weep out her broken dreams on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Relena. I wish you knew what it was like to fly Tallgeese that first time. I wish you could hear the sky calling...."

"I can't," she'd whispered. "And I won't."

She was a Peacecraft, after all. Someone had to be.

And she had a hard enough time working out issues with the still-vocal minority as it was. Any hint of a relationship with a Gundam pilot, and her carefully built political compromises with the Purists would crumble like sand.

And we're both too professional to let that happen, Relena thought wistfully. Even if you loved me. "So they're up planning the mission right now?"

Sally shook her head. "We're going to be attacking ha'taks. Not even Wing Zero wants to start planning that without a solid night's sleep." The doctor set aside her computer. "I'm going to need to discuss a few more medical details with Daniel and Janet at some point today...."

"About being Shinigami?"

Sally's expression didn't change. "Relena?"

"I saw Dr. Jackson move in the cafeteria." Relena sighed, heading for her luggage to pick out the day's formal outfit. Seen and sensed that moment of angry grace, the fluid motion she'd only seen in Gundam pilots... or Shinigami. "And I read your reports on the Reaver." She shook her head. "Why didn't you trust me?"

Sally wet her lips. "With all due respect, Lady Peacecraft, your public agreement with the Purist moderates on Shinigami is well known throughout the Preventers."

"Signed consent or not, allowing so-called emergency infections to go unchallenged without a thorough investigation is unconscionable!" Relena said hotly. "I know you have information on new techniques. We should at least attempt to ameliorate some of the damage."

"Even if those affected agreed there was damage," Dr. Po said evenly, "You know genetic surgery doesn't work on Shinigami."

"Maxwell's living proof it does, and you know it." Relena glared. "Sooner or later someone's going to dig that out of Preventer files. And then where will you be?"

"Running like hell with the rest of Wing Zero," Sally said flatly. "It won't work, Relena. I've studied those techniques. They're specifically targeted, difficult to implement, and risky as hell. And they were never meant to kill Shi no Yami. Just to work around it. Releasing any of that information would get innocent people killed." Blue glared back at stubborn blue. "They don't deserve that, Relena. You know that."

"And would Daniel agree with that?" Relena stated bluntly.

Sally's lips pressed into a thin line. "I admire and respect Dr. Jackson, Lady Peacecraft," she said softly. "But don't make me choose between our alliance with the SGC and Wing Zero's safety."

"So you'll face him, and tell him he's a killer, and there's nothing you can do about it." Relena matched her stare for stare. "How do you live with that lie?"

Sally held up spread fingers, clenched them into a fist. "Ask Catherine. Hilde. Iria. Noin. They're family." She lowered her fist. "And it's not a lie. High risk, Relena. I've studied the details of what G did. If Duo weren't Shinigami he'd be dead."

Relena looked away. "We won't be able to hide Dr. Jackson's status forever."

"He's working with Preventers," Sally shrugged. "I'm sure the extremists will draw their own conclusions."

Relena closed her eyes, reliving a toddler's blurry memory of a gentle brother offering her the sweet, faint perfume of sky-blue tulips. Perfume that faded and died, drowned by the scent of cordite always lingering about the pilot he'd become. "They always do."

~*~*~*~*~
"-Kilroy was here!"

Just about to unlock his office door, Dr. MacKenzie paused... to be sure he had the right key. Never let it be said the base psychiatrist was listening to gossip.

Even if those snickering whispers pertained to his most difficult patients.

Standing on a ladder to get at the corridor lights' wiring, one of the base electricians brandished a screwdriver. "Man, you could hear Freya screeching two halls down!"

Holding the ladder, an airman with a dark crewcut whistled. "I can't believe the colonel did that."

"Hey, did anyone say the colonel did it?" His partner nudged him, winking. "Ever hear of inside jobs? Way I heard it, Jacob only stopped laughing to give the Council hell about attacking another planet's ambassador."

"Heh. For a Tok'ra, he's not half bad." The electrician popped off the translucent plastic covering the bank of lights.

"Maybe," His partner didn't seem convinced. "Hard to see Dr. Jackson as a tagger, though."

The screwdriver tapped at the light mount. "Still waters, man. Believe you me, nobody survives around O'Neill this long without a sense of humor...."

MacKenzie stepped into his office, frowning. So Dr. Jackson had been involved in an off-world mission of dubious legality, mere hours after returning from yet another escapade of kidnap by a Goa'uld Queen, serious injury, and being held at the mercy of an alien society.

All in all, not promising indications of his current mental condition.

Perhaps I'll be able to fulfill my orders and leave this madhouse of a base once and for all.

MacKenzie squelched an unprofessional glee at the thought. He was a doctor. Not a barbarian. Still, the prospect of leaving a posting that flatly refused to conform to proper military procedure and decorum, that was regularly infested by humanoid aliens - they couldn't possibly be humans, no matter what General Hammond thought - mind-altering diseases, obvious aliens, and occasional breakdowns in the very laws of physics....

God, get me out of here!

He'd joined the SGC to help, no matter the NID's intent. But after hearing what Jolinar had done to Major Carter - how she'd been a prisoner in her own body, unable to move or speak or even feel without an alien mind overriding her own-

It's not going to happen to me. MacKenzie squelched the blind panic of the thought, a fear that no decent human being should ever have to face. I won't allow it.

Yet as long as he remained in the SGC, possession remained a risk. And he didn't dare request a transfer. Not until he'd carried out his orders and found a viable reason to get Dr. Jackson off SG-1.

It shouldn't have been that hard. The man had been traumatized by Goa'uld. Anyone who truly took the time to look at Jackson's medical records could determine that. How O'Neill and the general could expect any sane human being to endure what Daniel Jackson had and still maintain a firm mental footing was beyond MacKenzie's irritated comprehension.

Well, between his family history and record of exposure to various alien mind-altering devices, Jackson likely wasn't quite sane. All the more reason to keep him away from high-stress situations. Such a fine - if fractured - mind should not be at risk on the front lines. More to the point, he should not be in a position to put others at risk-

A familiar throat cleared. "I don't suppose we could get this over with quickly? Maybe if you just had a written questionnaire I could fill out, so you could make your diagnosis, take it to Janet, ask for a prescription, and she could tell you no."

MacKenzie controlled his start, gesturing the archaeologist to the patient's chair. Damn. The man's too quiet. Odd body language, though. Foot tapping... definite agitation. Very odd, in a man whose usual behavior in his hands was closed and defensive as a curled porcupine. "I've heard you had a very bad week, Dr. Jackson."

A snort. "Had its ups and downs."

"Attacked by a creature like that which nearly consumed Teal'c. Held hostage in an alien society." MacKenzie paused. "Captured and imprisoned by a Goa'uld Queen."

Tightness around Daniel's eyes. "I wasn't held hostage. I was detained. There's a difference. The Preventers held me until they were sure I was whom I said I was, and that I wouldn't run into trouble trying to get home. They were very up-front about that."

Defensive about the Sanquians, MacKenzie noted. Possible Stockholm Syndrome? He'd get to it later. Right now, it was time to dig at that avoided area. "Dr. Jackson. We need to talk about Dimme."

An odd light seemed to come into Daniel's eyes as he looked... to see if the door were locked? Why? "No, I don't think we do."

"Daniel. You've lost a great deal to the Goa'uld. Everyone knows that. Your friend, Jack, was assaulted by one of Hathor's spawn. Sam was taken over by a Tok'ra, losing control of her mind and body. Teal'c's very life depends on one of the creatures you despise, and he was forced to kill your wife to save you from Amaunet. And you yourself, with Hathor...."

"I thought we went over this already." Eyes narrowed behind glass. "Hathor's dead."

"Dimme is not," Mackenzie noted.

"And your point would be?"

MacKenzie kept his voice calm, soothing. The man was obviously trying to ignore the truth. "Very often someone who's been... abused once, has a difficult time admitting a second occurrence-"

"Dimme didn't rape me. She didn't have the chance. Too busy gloating over what her Reavers were going to do to us." Daniel drew in a soft breath. "And I really don't think I want to talk about this anymore."

"You don't have a choice in the matter. I may not be able to prescribe you effective medications, but I can and will state my objections to your active duty to General Hammond." Odd eyes, MacKenzie realized. Almost purple. When did that happen?

"No," Daniel said softly, "You won't."

Too late, the psychiatrist recognized that bright gleam for what it was. A light that wasn't - quite - insanity. A calculating, inhuman gaze that knew the corridor was empty, the room was full of potential weapons... and it was between him and the door.

"Dr. Jackson, what are you doing with that pencil?!"

~*~*~*~*~
Gotta teach these guys how to make a decent mocha. Duo tipped back his mug, slurping at the last bits of chocolate melting in SGC coffee. And how to get up late, they like early about as much as Heero. Though at least Relena said we could drop the formal gear if we wanted.

Heero hadn't wanted. Or wasn't about to admit he wanted. Damn stubborn guy was still in gi and hakama, probably still standing formal guard by Relena in a crowded corner of the infirmary as the Alliance citizens shared medicine, death glider tech, and a late breakfast with Teal'c and Dr. Fraiser.

Not for this little Shinigami. No way, no how. Damn death's wings - might as well have "shoot me now" written all over your face. Duo tugged up the zipper on his black leather jacket, feeling the reassuring warm weight of his sun-cross under his red turtleneck. Traded a glance with Quatre, and skipped once as they walked down the hall; he knew it made their escort nervous, but it was so good to get out of that blasted kimono.

"And old habits are so hard to break," Quatre murmured.

Duo shot him a grin. "Yeah." Hard to hide Shinigami's grace, much less a Gundam pilot's, when you were walking like regular people. Bounce, though - nobody looked too close at a hyper maniac. "Sure you don't want to be sketching out plans?"

"I put together some ideas while you were stealing Heero's bacon," Wing Zero's tactician admitted. "But we can't do anything final until we get more information on how distracted the Tok'ra are. Getting shot at going through that second 'Gate in the Gault system would put a serious crimp in our tactics." Quatre smiled as they caught sight of the uniformed guards outside their destination. "And right now, this is more important."

General's office. O'Neill should be in here. Duo met Quatre's sympathetic gaze as their escort knocked on the door. And sighed. Enough stalling, Maxwell. Time to talk to the man.

Setting aside some paperwork, O'Neill let out a low whistle as they entered. "I see what Danny was talking about."

"I'd have to agree with you, Colonel." Hammond regarded them both, evidently unsettled.

"What'd he say?" Duo asked, glancing between them. "Where is Daniel? The guards said he'd be with you."

"Daniel had to go annoy somebody," Jack shrugged. "Still think it'd be a good idea to get you civvies if you end up heading into town, but you guys really could blend in. Wouldn't even have to tell people you're from Toronto." He paused, thinking it over. "L.A., maybe."

Wherever that is, Duo thought, trading a wary look with Quatre. Maybe we can get them to give us a map. Hate to have to hack their mainframe. Sam's good. "Um...." Oh boy. How do I say this? "Help?" his fingers flickered at Quatre.

The empath quirked a blond brow up. Amusement flicked him, tempered by rueful concern.

"Your mess, you handle it." Great. Just great. Duo flipped his braid back over his shoulder, took a breath. Okay. You're Shinigami. You can deal. "Daniel annoying somebody could be a really bad idea."

"And this would be why...?" Jack drawled.

Not Heero's death-glare, but he's working on it, Duo thought. "Well, we really need to talk to you, and him, and we were gonna get Sally in on it too," he said in a rush. "Right now, we'd better just go find him, okay?"

"You two, and Po." O'Neill's eyes hardened. "Why do I think I'm not going to like this?"

Duo gave him a wide grin. "Lucky guess?"

"Preventer Maxwell." Hammond looked stern. "Exactly what haven't you told us about Dr. Jackson's current medical status?"

"Ah," Duo glanced at the guards in their silent corners. "It's kind of - complicated."

Jack leaned back in his chair. "Use little words."

"Yeah," Duo said slowly, "I would, but-"

"Duo!" Quatre's head snapped toward the ceiling, one hand flashing out Shinigami.

"-We really have to go find him right now," Duo finished, latching onto Jack's arm. "Please?"

"I'll expect a full report," Hammond ordered. "Go."

And they were off, Quatre making a beeline for the elevator, Duo barely aware of the colonel keeping up as he woke Shinigami enough to listen for that trembling echo of shadow. Time, time - how far away is he? How mad is he?

Has he got what it takes to fight the wave?

Steel doors closed. "What the hell are you worried about, Maxwell?"

Stall, stall.... "Well-"

An alarm screeched.

"That," Duo admitted.

Jack stared at them. "That would be the fire alarm, Maxwell!"

"Kind of figured." Duo drummed fingers on black leather, willing the floors to go by faster. "Quatre?"

"I can't get a good grip," the empath said breathlessly. "He's pretty deep in. But I think he's just... playing."

"Deep in what?" Jack bit out.

"Shinigami," Duo said bluntly, feeling shadow brush against his nerves. His own darkness rose to meet it, washing away doubt in crystalline clarity. Aches faded. Breath came quicker. Lights shone brighter. The world sang, Quatre burning bright with intent, Jack a shadowy flame of worry.

Worry that turned to jagged alarm, as the colonel took a swift step back from unsheathed darkness.

Shinigami grinned, flexing fingers for the fight to come. "Better hope your annoying guy doesn't have a weak heart."

And smoke curled in through opening doors, alarms and shouts hard on its heels. Deathscythe's pilot dashed toward the source of the confusion, following that echo of shadow, that predatory glee that had its prey cornered for the kill....

Daniel Jackson leaned against a corridor wall out of the way of the yelling firefighters, whistling under his breath as a small mountain of papers flamed in a wastebasket and burned a drift of ashes across a polished desk. One hand rested on the back of an occupied swivel chair, absently tugging it left, right, left. "Oh. Hi, Duo."

"Nice." Duo gently pushed his shadows back a hair, studying the fire-struck office with a demolition expert's eye. "Kind of subdued, but nice." He turned toward the chair full of quivering prey. Human, white coat over his Air Force uniform, limbs and lips expertly secured with duct tape, every inch of exposed skin covered with pencil-scribbled hieroglyphs. Hello, my name is MacKenzie and I'm a congenital idiot, inscribed the sweating forehead.

"Aw." Duo tousled the gagged man's hair, grinning into fear-struck eyes. "All tied up and no place to go."

"Son of a - Daniel!" Jack was staring aghast, brushing off Quatre when the empath tried to pull him back. "What the hell did you do to MacKenzie?"

"Colonel, don't!" Quatre said sharply. "We don't know if he knows you yet!"

"Knows-" Jack halted. Lowered his voice. "Daniel? You in there?"

Smart guy, Duo thought, relieved, carefully moving in to lay his hand over Daniel's wrist. He could feel the pulse drumming in Daniel's veins, full of Shi no Yami's dark fire. Keep it calm. He may be swamped right now, but he hasn't been Shinigami that long. The wave's got to ebb soon. "So... you done with this guy yet?"

"Hmm." The archaeologist twisted a well-used pencil between his fingers. Watched white fog smother flames while MacKenzie whimpered behind silvery tape. "I don't know."

"Careful," Quatre said under his breath, moving in a half-step behind Jack. "We're trying to take a mouse from a very happy cat."

Jack's lips thinned. "Gotcha." He walked forward, unhurried, and gingerly laid his hand on the archaeologist's green-jacketed shoulder. "Daniel?"

Daniel shuddered at his touch. Blinked. "Jack?"

The colonel let out a breath at the confused whisper. "It's okay, Danny." His tone was gentle as he moved in closer. "Just let go of the chair, okay?"

Daniel frowned at the quivering psychiatrist. Fingers dug into the chair cushion, knuckles turning white. "You want me to let him go?"

"Yeah." Jack kept his tone even, outwardly untouched by the disappointment in Daniel's voice. "That'd be good."

"I'm... not sure I can...."

Shaking already. Ouch. Wave's ebbing fast. Which made these next few minutes even more dangerous. "You can." Duo wrapped his hand around Daniel's wrist; just holding, not forcing. "I know what this feels like. One-way reentry, you're out of ammo, your thrusters are shot, and all your guidance systems are blown to hell. All the juice you got left's showing you this big red X on the map where you're going to auger in. Black hole in the landscape, with little MacKenzie-fragments all over it." Duo lowered his voice. "But that's not all you've got left, Daniel. Trust me. Don't fight the wave. Just - nudge it. Just a little."

Daniel blinked, uncertain where to look. "Jack?"

Jack stepped in, shoulder to shoulder, supporting him as he swayed. "I'm right here. Promise."

With a sobbing breath, Daniel let go.

Out of the corner of his eye Duo saw Quatre scoot chair and MacKenzie out of reach, snagging one of the stunned airmen with spent extinguishers. Cat'll tell him something, Duo thought practically. "It's okay," he said softly, nestling under the taller man's arm. "It's not your fault." He looked up at Jack. "We could take him to Janet," Duo offered.

"Does he need a doc?" Anger roiled in the colonel's gaze as Daniel shivered against him.

Duo sighed. "I wish."

"Fine. Winner!" Jack's unoccupied hand snapped shut, a summons that refused to be ignored. "You're coming with us."

~*~*~*~*~
"-That the SGC would inflict such acts on an ally is completely incomprehensible!" Eyes narrowed, Garshaw glared out of the view-screen. "And intolerable!"

"Are you finished?" Sam said evenly.

"Major Carter-"

"Councilor Garshaw. Allow me to fill in a few details." She was not going to back down. Not in front of the dark-haired Tok'ra leader, not in front of her father standing like an amused bear off to the side, not in front of anyone. The general was counting on her to make a point. But why me, sir?

Deep breath, Sam; you know why you. You were Jolinar's host; they'll listen to you when they won't to Jack. And you're third in line of command, at least as far as the Tok'ra consider it. They don't get to go all the way to the top. Not on this one.

"This is our internal report on Anise's assault on the Alliance ambassador," Sam waved a thin sheaf of paper. "I'll be sending you a hardcopy along with General Hammond's formal request that the Tok'ra Anise, and/or her host Freya, not be allowed to come into further contact with either SGC or Alliance personnel." She schooled her expression to casual interest. "It also includes a sworn statement from Lady Peacecraft that she is satisfied with the SGC's efforts to count coup on her behalf, and relinquishes her right to a duel to settle the matter."

"What?"

Sam watched Garshaw's anger slide into the first glimmers of confusion, and tried to quiet the butterflies doing strafing runs in her stomach. Laying down the law to people who say they're our allies, on behalf of people who might be our allies. I'm going to laugh. Or throw up. "Assault is a crime, Councilor."

Garshaw's expression shifted into cold tolerance. "Surely you don't expect us to be held to their laws."

"Why not? You expect us to be held to yours." Oh, damn it - I knew I should have skipped the coffee this morning. Hell with it. "Garshaw, Sanq knows what happened to the medusas Stheno took off the planet. And they know who killed them. We've been doing some very fast talking to try to convince them the Tok'ra aren't just as unethical as the Goa'uld. And they were willing to listen - until your people crossed the line." Sam summoned up her own cold glare, honed and polished under a certain colonel's watchful eye. "You might want to tell Caton and Hoerv that trying to use one group of rebels as leverage against another tends to get you stomped by both sides."

"Selmac-"

"I, too, find the Council's decision less than principled, Garshaw." The Tok'ra ambassador crossed his arms. "Are we not those who forsook the ways of Ra, to abandon tyranny and live in harmony with our hosts?" He gave Garshaw a narrow look. "Or does our pride still so rule us that we would injure those who might aid, simply because we lacked patience?"

Garshaw shook her head. "You have never faced a medusa."

"I have not." Selmac gestured to the laptop by Sam's side. "Yet it appears diplomacy arms us better to face them than demands."

Sam tapped the computer. "Medical information voluntarily given by the Alliance ambassador to Dr. Fraiser, given that we plan to have our forces working together. By the terms of Earth's agreement with the Tok'ra for mutual aid, assistance, and information exchange, the SGC is now transferring this data to you." And I hope Sanq doesn't end up regretting it.

Breathe, Sam. Peacecraft and Yuy knew you'd be handing it over. And they're okay with that. Which means they probably took out anything really dangerous first.

Selmac nodded; but it was Jacob who picked up the laptop. "Now, Yosuuf," he said matter-of-factly, "About those reports on Gault...."

~*~*~*~*~
Some kind of storeroom-turned-gym, Duo thought. Mats to fall on, lockers, weights... benches. Good. He helped Jack sit the seriously-shaking archaeologist down, moving away a few polite inches when the colonel cradled Daniel against his shoulder.

Quatre closed the door carefully, thumbing the inside locks shut. "We're clear."

No listeners. No innocent bystanders. Just you, Quatre, a seriously ticked-off colonel, and one scared to death new Shinigami. Okay, Maxwell, you're on.

Duo opened his mouth. Or tried to.

Great. If Heero wanted quiet to work on his laptop, he could talk a mile a minute, death glares notwithstanding. But the one time he had to talk, and words didn't want to come.

"S-start at the beginning," Daniel shivered.

Okay. Yeah, he could do that.

"I was seven, maybe eight," Duo shrugged. "Father and Sister Helen put eight on the school papers, I guess it was close enough. First time I'd ever been in school. Didn't like it much. But they wanted me to go, so I went." He tipped his head back, studying the bare girders of the ceiling. "Bunch of regular kids, a lot of military kids, and one threadbare war orphan from a kami shrine."

"I'm guessing fights," Jack said evenly.

"Like clockwork," Duo nodded. Aware of Quatre's focussed attention across the room; the empath had heard fragments of this before, but never the whole story. "Only one time, they said something that... that would've made Sister cry." He shrugged, looking away. "And that's when I put five of 'em in the hospital."

Silence. He could hear the whisper of fabric as Jack clutched Daniel tighter.

"When Father Maxwell got back from apologizing for me... well, he'd thought Sister Helen had talked to me when they took me in, she'd thought he had-" Duo spread an empty hand. "So they sat me down, and we had the talk. Which I'm going to tell you." He frowned. "Though I think I'm going to leave out the bit about the fuzzy cabbits, you're not eight...."

"Duo." Jack's tone was light, but firm as steel.

"Llethuag a ton dubh," Duo said softly. "That's what just happened to you."

"Overwhelmed by the... dark wave?" Daniel straightened in Jack's grasp. "You don't - that's not Universal...."

"Most Shinigami are still from the L2 area," Duo shrugged. "And if you're not Shinigami, it's hard to understand how it works from the inside." He rested his hand on his knee, remembering that long-ago talk. "When we get mad, when we get scared... when somebody we care about is in real trouble... Shi no Yami feels it. Here. And here." He tapped his heart, then the side of his temples. "And it tries to help. 'Cause if you die, it dies, and it's not real interested in dying."

"Everything was dark," Daniel said hesitantly. "And - clear. And...." He looked down at his hands.

"Things were glowing?" Duo raised a chestnut brow. "Yep. We're still not sure how that works, though man, does it ever come in handy when the lights go out... empaths feel other people. Shinigami see them. Who's mad. Who's scared. Who's been touched by a Goa'uld. Who's going to move with you if you start taking the place apart. And if Shinigami comes forward when you didn't call it, it's 'cause you want to take something apart." He saw Daniel lift a finger to object. Oh no you don't. "And don't you dare say you won't call it. It's there. It's part of you. And even if you stopped fighting right now, even if you ran off someplace with no people, no weapons, no war - it'd still be there. And if you don't learn how to call it, how to ride the wave without letting it pull you under, you will kill someone." He took a breath. "Maybe a lot of someones."

"But you were raised in a shrine." Daniel swallowed. "You didn't...?"

"Father was a pacifist, not an idiot," Duo said bluntly. "He and Sister never raised a hand to anybody. Ever. But they were Shinigami and they knew it. And they taught me." He glanced at Jack. "Let him go."

"Nobody's getting hurt here," Jack warned, loosening his grasp.

"That's the point." Duo smiled wryly. "Nobody's hurt. Nobody's mad. He's still pretty wrung out from the last wave; another won't last long. This is about as safe as we can get." He held out a hand. "Trust me?"

"Coming from you, those are scary words." Hot fingers closed around his.

"Okay," Duo said softly, looking Daniel in the eye. "This is something else you're gonna have to watch out for, especially if you end up fighting with a bunch of Preventers. Shinigami can pull each other under-"

And he let the shadows flow forward.

Daniel's hand clenched around his, hard enough to leave bruises on an ordinary human's flesh.

"Shhh," Duo said gently, guiding Shinigami with the lightest of touches. "I'm here. Just listen. Just look. There's nothing to be afraid of...."

Daniel blinked. Stared at their linked hands, ablaze with Shi no Yami's dark fire. Looked back at him, helpless confusion spread over his face.

"Hard to recognize people at first. Everything looks different. Bet you're not even sure who I am right now." Duo kept his tone even, light, as Quatre moved in to murmur soothing words to a twitchy colonel. Jack probably wouldn't appreciate it if he broke out laughing. For some strange reason, laughing Shinigami tended to send most people scrambling for the ammo boxes.

"Duo?" Daniel ventured.

"Yeah." Moving slow and easy, Duo stepped into the circle of his arms. "Just duck your head a little, that's right...."

Daniel's breath was warm on the nape of his neck, drifting a hint of coffee in its wake as the archaeologist breathed in his scent. Almost, almost... got it, Duo knew, feeling the grip on his hand ease.

Daniel's free hand found his bangs, brushed through them gentle as a kitten with its first paper butterfly. "What am I doing?"

"Sally calls it a sensory check." Duo didn't move as warm fingers ghosted down his cheek to brush the tight weave of hair that was the start of his braid. Daniel needed to know there was one safe person in the world. Someone who wouldn't be afraid of him, no matter what. "Regular people use their eyes. Shi no Yami wakes up the part of you that doesn't have eyes. We need to feed it info it can handle. Touch. Scent. Warm feelings." He beckoned Quatre forward.

The empath slipped in to be scented, projecting calm, safe, friend. "We do this with Duo every month or so," he reassured the archaeologist, pushing forward into reach when Daniel's fingers hesitated near blond hair. "It's all right."

"And here I thought you were just a people kind of guy." Jack raised a skeptical brow as his friend's hand ruffled golden strands. "So when you're hugging Yuy...."

"I happen to like hugging Heero," Duo said archly. "It took a lot of work to get to the point where he wasn't trying to strangle me or throw me across the room, and I'm not gonna let it go to waste now. But yeah. We work together a lot. And that's a heck of a lot easier if I know Shinigami's not going to bite my partner." He lifted a challenging eyebrow. You up for this?

Jack gave him a glare. Walked casually into range. "Daniel?"

Duo watched the careful caution as the two touched, lingering confusion on Daniel's part, natural wariness on Jack's. Cautious, but not scared. Duo let out a silent breath of relief. This is going to work.

Someone knocked on the door.

Skulls knocked together as Daniel started; Jack cursed under his breath, keeping a good grip on the archaeologist.

"It's all right," Quatre reassured them, moving toward the door. "It's Sally. I called her as soon as I knew where we were," he explained at Jack's skeptical look, touching the transmitter clipped inside his shirt collar.

Carrying a two-by-four through the doorway, Dr. Po scanned the room. "Everything all right?"

"I've had better days." Daniel made his way back to the bench. Sat down hard.

"Details, Doc," Jack said bluntly. "What's in Daniel?" He hesitated. "And what's with the wood?"

"Demonstration. Later." Sally pulled up a stray folding stool, waited until Duo and Quatre had flanked the two SGC members on the bench. "I told you, Dr. Jackson. Shi no Yami's a killer."

"It was airborne. And lethal," Daniel said quietly. "You said that."

"Not was," Sally said bluntly. "Is."

Jack stiffened. "Po-"

"Hear me out." She sighed. "I told you it killed, Dr. Jackson. What I didn't tell you is how it killed. Duo? You know more about L2 history...."

Duo leaned over interlaced fingers, eyes on the floor. "Nemain would mist Shi No Yami into a city block, and nine out of ten people would drop in their tracks. Eaten alive from the bloodstream. Choked to death from the lungs. Hell, you made it through that, and you'd end up with metastatic cancer. Nasty, nasty bug." Duo hugged his knees. "But that wasn't what scared people."

"One in ten?" Jack asked grimly.

"Carriers," Quatre put in. "Shi no Yami used them to spread."

"You mean, spread from them," Daniel corrected.

"No," Sally said flatly.

"Oh gods." Daniel paled. "Shinigami?"

"They were called that," Quatre admitted. "But they weren't. Not really. Not like you. Not like Duo."

"As near as we can determine from the remaining medical records, Nemain found the ancestor of Shi no Yami living in some kind of egg-laying mammal on one of her worlds," Sally explained. "She tampered with it until she had what she wanted; something lethal, that would get inside the heads of people who didn't die and-" The medusa swallowed dryly. "Carriers looked normal. They acted normal. Sometimes no one even knew they were infected until something set them off... and then they'd start cutting themselves. And killing."

Daniel gulped.

"But we got lucky." Duo sat up. "Somehow - luck, bad gene mix, slow day in the mad scientist lab, who knows - one of her batches reverted close to wild type. And wild type Shi no Yami doesn't kill what it lives in, it doesn't spread by air... and most important, it doesn't drive you crazy."

"But I... MacKenzie...."

"What it does, is take the safeties off," Sally said flatly.

"Um?" Daniel looked the question at Jack.

"Think I know what she's getting at." The colonel studied the braided Shinigami. "You said it gets at the nerves, Po. If that includes the brain... Shi no Yami's hosts. The original ones. They're like cats?"

"Pure carnivores," Sally nodded.

"Do I look like I'm purring?" Daniel said, exasperated.

"Want me to pet you?" Duo grinned.

Jack blinked. "Would that work?"

"Jack!" Daniel sat up, indignant.

"Yes, it would," Quatre chuckled. "Hairbrush, a little patience... trust me, he'll melt."

"Quatre!"

"So, biochemistry," Duo went on, ignoring the bright spots in the archaeologist's cheeks. Poor guy. I ought to brush his hair one time, just so he doesn't freak out the first time he finds a nice partner. "Did Janet know what you were talking about when you asked?"

"Enough that she'll have some very pointed questions for all of us," Sally nodded. "The human brain makes two chemicals to deal with aggression, Daniel. One of them is what you call adrenaline. It triggers the fight or flight response."

"You know, 'oh angels, I'm gonna die, I gotta do something'," Duo stuck in. "Good stuff for emergencies, but hell on rational thinking in a firefight. The other one, don't know what you call it...."

"According to Janet, that would be nor-adrenaline," Sally said. "Cats have a lot of it."

"And people usually don't," Jack countered. "Which is a good thing. Fighter pilots and snipers aside, having calm, rational, happy killers around is kind of hard on the nerves... oh, hell."

"Shinigami in a nutshell." Duo shrugged.

Daniel went white.

"Don't!" Quatre blurted, hand on the archaeologist's shoulder. "It's not like that, Daniel. You're not guilty. You're not a murderer!"

"But Shi no Yami's instincts still say it's airborne, and they still tell it to kill." Sally caught his frightened gaze. "That's why you need the wind. That's why a lot of Shinigami are fighter pilots." She leaned forward. "But instinct isn't who you are, Daniel. You never have to kill."

Daniel licked his lips. "But I wanted to."

"Oh, please." Duo rolled his eyes. "If you'd wanted that guy dead, he'd be dead." Jumping to his feet, he stalked a careful distance away from the bench. "Y'see, there's one last trick Shi no Yami pulls. Wears you out quick... but when everything hits the fan, it's a lifesaver." He dipped into the shadows of his mind. "We call it the sgean dubh."

"The black knife?" Daniel translated hesitantly. "What's-"

Board in hand, Sally swung.

Now!

Darkness slashed wood into ragged pieces.

~*~*~*~*~