The halls of the SGC were quiet when General Jack O'Neill stepped out of the elevator. He loved this time of day, too early for the rush of soldiers, scientists and technicians to be moving around to get their jobs done. Too early for anyone to be demanding his attention for some crisis or another, and he was reveling in the silence that told him this was a well run base. Deciding not to think about the demands and the multitude of crises that will arise in a couple of hours or so, he turned and walked toward the commissary intending to get some food into his stomach.
He looked at his watch and wondered if there would be anything ready for him to eat. It was 6:00 a.m. and he figured he would just ask the cook to make him something if nothing was available yet. One of the perks of the job, he mused. Being a general in charge of the place certainly got him a lot of attention. Nobody wants to piss off a general.
That thought made him grin as he moved toward his destination. He remembered well enough how many times he pissed off a general or two. And now his new recruit, Jack Gallagher, was moving in to follow in O'Neill's footsteps. Well, it was hardly difficult to do considering the new recruit was Jack O'Neill, or to put it precisely, his clone complete with all of O'Neill's memories and mannerisms.
It still tended to boggle O'Neill's mind when he thought of his 'mini-me'. Once the kid was out of his sight, O'Neill promptly forgot about him, or at least tried to. There were plenty of other issues to deal with without having to deal with a 16 year old him. The old saying, 'Out of sight, out of mind' worked very well for Jack. His clone on the other hand had almost three years to deal with it, and it didn't seem to bother him a bit, well except for having to be a first year Cadet again.
But now, he was forced to deal with the arrival of Jack Gallagher, his clone. O'Neill grinned as he thought about his younger cohort. They were so much alike, and he had realized almost from the start that they still think along the same lines, hiding behind the sarcasm and the commanding authority that came natural to them.
O"Neill reached for a tray when he finally got to the commissary and began moving down the long counter picking up a cup and filling it with coffee. He stopped and debated what it was he really wanted as he looked over at the hot food. Did he want eggs or did he want cereal. Decisions, decisions. It wasn't like he had to make a thousand and one decisions throughout the day, he thought sarcastically as he stood there deciding about breakfast. Just pick something, Jack, he thought to himself, and his roving eye landed on some sausage patties. Hmmm….
"You got any hamburgers back there," he said to the two men standing behind the counter.
"Sir?" one of them asked. "I'm sorry sir, but this is breakfast and we didn't make any hamburgers. Would you like me to make one for you, General?"
"No, not really," O'Neill said. "A thick, juicy cheeseburger with all the works just sounded good to me, that's all. I guess I'll go for the… uh… the… Oh to hell with it, I think I'll just get some cereal," he said walking away. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two cooks look at each other and one of them shook his head with a grin.
He headed over to the cereal counter, but a thought came to him and he did a complete about-face and returned to the grill. "I've decided!" he crowed startling both cooks out of their musings. "I think I would like to have some of that great looking French toast over there," he continued proudly. "Throw on a couple pieces of bacon,… no, no sausage, and don't forget the syrup. Yeah, thanks," he said with a huge smile when he was handed the plate. You guys are doing a great job, by the way."
"Thank you, sir," said the oldest one, giving the General a wary look. "We do try, sir."
"Good job," O'Neill said again with a nod, and turned to find a table. He loved doing that to the people under his command. Keep them guessing and they won't see the real O'Neill, not to mention that people generally work better for a person if they like that person. And O'Neill knew that his people liked him, even when he was yelling at them for one thing or another.
This brought his thoughts back to Gallagher. O'Neill couldn't help but smile as he thought about his younger counterpart. That kid can be the most frustrating, aggravating and annoying brat on the face of this planet, no wait, make that several galaxies, he thought, completely ignoring the fact that he was, in a sense, describing himself.
O'Neill settled into his food as his mind went back to the day George Hammond told him about Gallagher's arrival. O'Neill had promptly went into a tirade about why it was not a good idea to have this kid back in his face, but George had been adamant. Since O'Neill had been a driving force in defeating many gould System Lords, so would Gallagher. They were one and the same, no matter how hard O'Neill snarled about it. And the icing on the cake was the fact that O'Neill would be retiring soon (not too soon, he hoped) and Gallagher can continue on in his footsteps for at least 40 more years.
They both knew that Gallagher, being who he was, was destined to be a part of the SGC, after all he had fought the gould for six years before fate dealt him a heavy hand and cloned him into a 16 year old boy. Fate, O'Neill frowned. Loki, that Asgard bastard, couldn't in any way, means, shape or form be considered fate. He was a lunatic Asgard running around playing God with O'Neill's DNA. Just give me five minutes with him, O'Neill thought grimly. There wouldn't be anything left of Loki to salvage for DNA.
O'Neill found himself wondering if Gallagher hated Loki as much as he did. He had to admit he didn't know a lot of his younger self, he was such a private person, not prone to giving out much about what he was feeling, which was so much like O'Neill.
Yet, there were many instances when they did talk about private things amongst themselves as they knew that each would be the only person who would understand. O'Neill had to admit he was surprised when Gallagher mentioned the voice in his dreams, the one that preceded his nightmares. It was good that he did, because it made it crystal clear in O'Neill's mind that Gallagher was, in fact, O'Neill. The same man (albeit a lot younger in appearance), the same memories and experiences, and it gave him the piece of mind he needed when he was grappling with his decision to put Gallagher on SG-1's team.
The reminder of dreams brought O'Neill back to the present as one of those dreams was the reason he was at the SGC so early. The nightmare had wakened him around 5:00 a.m. and he decided he might as well get the day started. So here he was eating breakfast all alone and savoring the quiet in the eye of the storm.
O'Neill rose and got himself another cup of coffee and went back to sit down at the table. He was in no particular hurry to get to his office and the stack of decisions waiting him there, so he just sat there enjoying the silence.
He had been there for what only seemed like seconds when he heard Walter say, "Good morning, Sir. You're here awfully early."
"No I am not, Walter," O'Neill said. "You haven't seen me all morning, all this is a figment of your imagination," he continued waving his arms to indicate the entire room.
"Yes, sir," Walter Davis said with a nod. "I guess the news about the Tok'ra can wait," he said as he turned to walk over to the coffee urn.
O'Neill just sat at the table staring at his cup, wondering if he would get court marshaled for pouring the urn of hot coffee over the head of a sergeant, then took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. "The Tok'ra, Walter?" he said.
"Sir? Oh, the Tok'ra, yes. They sent a message through the Gate about an hour ago," Walter said then turned to leave. "The message is waiting on your desk when you arrive at the SGC, sir."
Damn insolent creature, O'Neill thought. "Walter, do you have your next of kin paperwork up-to-date?" O'Neill growled.
"Sir?" Walter asked as he turned. O'Neill could see the sergeant was trying not to smile, but was not successful.
"Just tell me what the message was," O'Neill sighed.
"They said that their delegates will be arriving here sometime later today. No sir," he said when O'Neill opened his mouth to ask, "they didn't say what time. They just said that we should expect three of them to arrive and to talk with us about a specific situation," Walter finished.
"Ya know, I hate it when they just come prancing in here expecting us to drop everything for them," O'Neill groused. "You'd think they would at least give us a heads up on what planet or System Lord they want us to blow up. Common courtesy, don't you think?
"Yes, sir," Walter agreed.
"We haven't even heard from them in awhile, not since that gould poisoning thing," O'Neill continued cutting off the memory of the devastation a decision he made caused. Don't go there, Jack.
"I'm sure they will tell you everything when they get here, sir," Walter said, the look in his eyes had turned serious, and O'Neill wondered if the sergeant was sympathizing with him.
"The Tok'ra?" he asked in mock surprise. "This is the Tok'ra we're talking about right?" O'Neill had to smile when he saw the grin on the sergeant's face. "These are the same people who live and die by the credo, 'Need to know is all you need to know'," he continued and rolled his eyes. "Well, Walter, since I apparently am here after all, I guess I will go to my office and get ready for the thrill of dealing with those sneaky, snaky….. uh, I mean… all important allies."
"Yes, sir," Walter said returning O'Neill's smile and O'Neill could feel the sergeant's eyes on his back as he walked away. O'Neill knew what he was thinking, pitying him yet supporting his decision all the way. Oh man, there goes that good mood I was in, O'Neill thought.
Jack Gallagher was wishing he was anywhere but in the infirmary right this minute. He was not, and never had been one to be able to sit patiently unless, of course, he was in enemy territory. Times like that were different. He usually was busy keeping his mind alert by listening with ears attuned for danger and searching the area with his eyes, attention focused on one thing and one thing only, getting out of there alive.
The infirmary, on the other hand, required a person to sit on a bed or a chair, and wait while the doctor did her stuff, in this case checking to make sure he was absolutely healthy and fit for active duty. He'd been telling her for over a week that he was, but typical doctors, they don't believe anything unless a whole battery of tests tells them it's so. It had been six weeks since that murdering bastard, Toran, tried to carve his left leg like a turkey and Gallagher had put a lot of work to strengthen the muscles to get it back in shape. The cuts in his stomach and on his cheek had long since healed and he was pleased to see that the one on his cheek wouldn't leave too much of a scar.
He sighed and looked towards the doc's office wondering when she was going to show her face. It was a pretty face; he had to admit and grinned.
"Well, Cadet," the doctor said as she walked out of her office a minute later, "it looks like you are more than ready to get back out there. You ARE going to avoid all incoming bullets, staff weapon blasts, bombings, knifings and assorted other mishaps that could put you back in here, aren't you?" she asked.
"Heck yeah, doc," he said happily. He was going back out there! "I promise to dodge everything including native lunatics."
"See that you do, because the nurses have threatened to quit if either you or the General find yourselves in here. I swear," she continued, "you'd think the two of you were twins as you both act just alike. Oh yeah, I forgot," she said as she smacked her hand to her forehead, "you are the same," she teased.
"Yeah, well, don't tell that to the General," he said grinning at her. "You know how he gets when people tell him something he doesn't want to hear."
"Yes, I do," the doctor said with a great deal of emphasis while she smiled at him.
"Well, I'm off into the wild blue yonder," he said jumping off the bed and swinging his arms to the ceiling. "Or is it the wild blue event horizon," he puzzled, "Or maybe the…"
"Good-bye Jack," she said pointedly and walked away shaking her head and laughing.
"See ya, doc," Gallagher said as he practically ran out the door. No use giving her the chance to change her mind, he thought.
Gallagher found himself in Colonel Carter's lab. He had wandered there because he really didn't have anything better to do and he wanted to tell her the good news about his returning to her team. At least, he hoped it was good news for her.
"Hello, Colonel," he said as he walked in. He always felt lost in her lab because there were so many gadgets and doohickeys lying around and he was half afraid he'd break something if he even looked at it, so he just put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"Morning, Cadet," she responded looking up from her laptop. "Don't you have something better to do?" she asked.
"Well, so much for a welcoming party," he said, just a little hurt. "I know when I'm not wanted."
"Wait. Jack," she called after him as he had turned and walked out the door. "What I meant was, aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary getting the green light for active duty?"
"Oh yeah, I just came from there," he said relieved. "I'm a free man, Colonel Carter, ma'am. When do we leave?" "Not for awhile, I'm afraid. The Tok'ra will be here later today and SG-1 will be in attendance so you might want to be prepared," she said.
Great, Gallagher thought sarcastically, he couldn't wait. "Dad gonna be with them?" he asked Carter. Her father, Jacob Carter, just happened to be a host to one of those snake heads.
"I don't know, they haven't said who they're going to send. We'll have to wait and see."
"What are they coming here for," he said trying not to roll his eyes. He really didn't trust those guys.
"I don't know that either. You know how secretive they can be."
"Yeah, I know," he said remembering the missions he had gone on as Colonel O'Neill that involved the Tok'ra and he was always out of the loop on those missions. Well, this time it will be Colonel Carter who will have to deal with the little 'surprises'.
"Whatcha working on," he asked looking at her laptop.
"Just some calculations. I have been working on a theory of taking the addresses we found on the cartouche in Abydos and the addresses you… Colonel O'Neill put in after the Ancient's information was downloaded into his brain the first time, and cross-matching them to see if there is a possibility of coming up with even more addresses and then charting them if we do find any. It's gonna to take some time, though," she sighed, "but I thought I would get started on it while we waited for the Tok'ra."
"Wait," Gallagher said, "the first time?"
"What?"
"You just said the first time he had the information downloaded into his brain. Are you telling me that he did it again?" Gallagher didn't want to believe that someone would go through that again, the frustration of not knowing what was going on and then not being able to communicate. No, he didn't….
"Yes, he did," Carter said answering his spoken question. "Someone had to do it to keep it out of the hands of Anubis, and he figured he was the only one."
"That idiot!!" Gallagher fumed. "What in the hell was he thinking. God," he said pacing the floor and running his fingers through his hair, "when I think of how I almost died, and he goes and does it again!" Horror dawned on his face as he realized what he just said. "Begging your pardon, Colonel Carter, ma'am. I apologize for the harsh words against the General. It's just that he is such a…" he stopped himself again, swallowed hard, put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.
"That's quite all right, Cadet," she said, understanding. "I felt the same way, but someone did have to do it. Anubis was there and we were there and the Colonel just…, we almost lost him again," her eyes took on a haunted look and Gallagher quickly tried to dispel the mood.
"He survived though, huh? I always knew he had it in him," he teased. "Why just look at all the times I got his butt out of one scrape or another. I tell ya, that guy needs me here."
"Yes, but now who'll watch over you," Carter said laughing and Gallagher silently congratulated himself for chasing away the haunted look.
"That's your job now, Colonel Carter," he said leaning closer and grinning at her, "with a little help from my other guardian angels, Teal'c and Daniel."
"Somehow, I just can't picture either one with wings," she countered still smiling at him, "although Daniel came close when he ascended. The white light could be considered as wings, by some… something wrong Gallagher? You have that look on your face."
Her statement surprised him out of the flashback he was having of Daniel being there with him in that cell. Jack had missed his 'angel' during the times he didn't show up. "What look, ma'am?" he asked as he struggled to get his emotions under control.
"The one where you are determined to hide everything from the world, Gallagher," she said. "You know, no happiness, no anger, no nothing, the stone mask, as I have called it for as long as I've known General O'Neill."
"Oh, that look," Gallagher said and smiled to prove that she didn't know what she was talking about. "I was just reminded of something," he said dropping the false smile when he realized that she just wasn't buying it.
"Well, Colonel, I am going to go see if I can pester Teal'c for awhile," Gallagher said preparing to leave. "You know how testy he can get if he doesn't get his daily dose of aggravation from me."
The memory of her smile and laughter followed him out the door as he left.
He had just turned a corner in the hallway when the klaxons blared and an announcement was made that there was an off-world activation. Curiosity got the best of him and he headed toward the control room to see what was going on.
He looked at his watch and wondered if there would be anything ready for him to eat. It was 6:00 a.m. and he figured he would just ask the cook to make him something if nothing was available yet. One of the perks of the job, he mused. Being a general in charge of the place certainly got him a lot of attention. Nobody wants to piss off a general.
That thought made him grin as he moved toward his destination. He remembered well enough how many times he pissed off a general or two. And now his new recruit, Jack Gallagher, was moving in to follow in O'Neill's footsteps. Well, it was hardly difficult to do considering the new recruit was Jack O'Neill, or to put it precisely, his clone complete with all of O'Neill's memories and mannerisms.
It still tended to boggle O'Neill's mind when he thought of his 'mini-me'. Once the kid was out of his sight, O'Neill promptly forgot about him, or at least tried to. There were plenty of other issues to deal with without having to deal with a 16 year old him. The old saying, 'Out of sight, out of mind' worked very well for Jack. His clone on the other hand had almost three years to deal with it, and it didn't seem to bother him a bit, well except for having to be a first year Cadet again.
But now, he was forced to deal with the arrival of Jack Gallagher, his clone. O'Neill grinned as he thought about his younger cohort. They were so much alike, and he had realized almost from the start that they still think along the same lines, hiding behind the sarcasm and the commanding authority that came natural to them.
O"Neill reached for a tray when he finally got to the commissary and began moving down the long counter picking up a cup and filling it with coffee. He stopped and debated what it was he really wanted as he looked over at the hot food. Did he want eggs or did he want cereal. Decisions, decisions. It wasn't like he had to make a thousand and one decisions throughout the day, he thought sarcastically as he stood there deciding about breakfast. Just pick something, Jack, he thought to himself, and his roving eye landed on some sausage patties. Hmmm….
"You got any hamburgers back there," he said to the two men standing behind the counter.
"Sir?" one of them asked. "I'm sorry sir, but this is breakfast and we didn't make any hamburgers. Would you like me to make one for you, General?"
"No, not really," O'Neill said. "A thick, juicy cheeseburger with all the works just sounded good to me, that's all. I guess I'll go for the… uh… the… Oh to hell with it, I think I'll just get some cereal," he said walking away. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two cooks look at each other and one of them shook his head with a grin.
He headed over to the cereal counter, but a thought came to him and he did a complete about-face and returned to the grill. "I've decided!" he crowed startling both cooks out of their musings. "I think I would like to have some of that great looking French toast over there," he continued proudly. "Throw on a couple pieces of bacon,… no, no sausage, and don't forget the syrup. Yeah, thanks," he said with a huge smile when he was handed the plate. You guys are doing a great job, by the way."
"Thank you, sir," said the oldest one, giving the General a wary look. "We do try, sir."
"Good job," O'Neill said again with a nod, and turned to find a table. He loved doing that to the people under his command. Keep them guessing and they won't see the real O'Neill, not to mention that people generally work better for a person if they like that person. And O'Neill knew that his people liked him, even when he was yelling at them for one thing or another.
This brought his thoughts back to Gallagher. O'Neill couldn't help but smile as he thought about his younger counterpart. That kid can be the most frustrating, aggravating and annoying brat on the face of this planet, no wait, make that several galaxies, he thought, completely ignoring the fact that he was, in a sense, describing himself.
O'Neill settled into his food as his mind went back to the day George Hammond told him about Gallagher's arrival. O'Neill had promptly went into a tirade about why it was not a good idea to have this kid back in his face, but George had been adamant. Since O'Neill had been a driving force in defeating many gould System Lords, so would Gallagher. They were one and the same, no matter how hard O'Neill snarled about it. And the icing on the cake was the fact that O'Neill would be retiring soon (not too soon, he hoped) and Gallagher can continue on in his footsteps for at least 40 more years.
They both knew that Gallagher, being who he was, was destined to be a part of the SGC, after all he had fought the gould for six years before fate dealt him a heavy hand and cloned him into a 16 year old boy. Fate, O'Neill frowned. Loki, that Asgard bastard, couldn't in any way, means, shape or form be considered fate. He was a lunatic Asgard running around playing God with O'Neill's DNA. Just give me five minutes with him, O'Neill thought grimly. There wouldn't be anything left of Loki to salvage for DNA.
O'Neill found himself wondering if Gallagher hated Loki as much as he did. He had to admit he didn't know a lot of his younger self, he was such a private person, not prone to giving out much about what he was feeling, which was so much like O'Neill.
Yet, there were many instances when they did talk about private things amongst themselves as they knew that each would be the only person who would understand. O'Neill had to admit he was surprised when Gallagher mentioned the voice in his dreams, the one that preceded his nightmares. It was good that he did, because it made it crystal clear in O'Neill's mind that Gallagher was, in fact, O'Neill. The same man (albeit a lot younger in appearance), the same memories and experiences, and it gave him the piece of mind he needed when he was grappling with his decision to put Gallagher on SG-1's team.
The reminder of dreams brought O'Neill back to the present as one of those dreams was the reason he was at the SGC so early. The nightmare had wakened him around 5:00 a.m. and he decided he might as well get the day started. So here he was eating breakfast all alone and savoring the quiet in the eye of the storm.
O'Neill rose and got himself another cup of coffee and went back to sit down at the table. He was in no particular hurry to get to his office and the stack of decisions waiting him there, so he just sat there enjoying the silence.
He had been there for what only seemed like seconds when he heard Walter say, "Good morning, Sir. You're here awfully early."
"No I am not, Walter," O'Neill said. "You haven't seen me all morning, all this is a figment of your imagination," he continued waving his arms to indicate the entire room.
"Yes, sir," Walter Davis said with a nod. "I guess the news about the Tok'ra can wait," he said as he turned to walk over to the coffee urn.
O'Neill just sat at the table staring at his cup, wondering if he would get court marshaled for pouring the urn of hot coffee over the head of a sergeant, then took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. "The Tok'ra, Walter?" he said.
"Sir? Oh, the Tok'ra, yes. They sent a message through the Gate about an hour ago," Walter said then turned to leave. "The message is waiting on your desk when you arrive at the SGC, sir."
Damn insolent creature, O'Neill thought. "Walter, do you have your next of kin paperwork up-to-date?" O'Neill growled.
"Sir?" Walter asked as he turned. O'Neill could see the sergeant was trying not to smile, but was not successful.
"Just tell me what the message was," O'Neill sighed.
"They said that their delegates will be arriving here sometime later today. No sir," he said when O'Neill opened his mouth to ask, "they didn't say what time. They just said that we should expect three of them to arrive and to talk with us about a specific situation," Walter finished.
"Ya know, I hate it when they just come prancing in here expecting us to drop everything for them," O'Neill groused. "You'd think they would at least give us a heads up on what planet or System Lord they want us to blow up. Common courtesy, don't you think?
"Yes, sir," Walter agreed.
"We haven't even heard from them in awhile, not since that gould poisoning thing," O'Neill continued cutting off the memory of the devastation a decision he made caused. Don't go there, Jack.
"I'm sure they will tell you everything when they get here, sir," Walter said, the look in his eyes had turned serious, and O'Neill wondered if the sergeant was sympathizing with him.
"The Tok'ra?" he asked in mock surprise. "This is the Tok'ra we're talking about right?" O'Neill had to smile when he saw the grin on the sergeant's face. "These are the same people who live and die by the credo, 'Need to know is all you need to know'," he continued and rolled his eyes. "Well, Walter, since I apparently am here after all, I guess I will go to my office and get ready for the thrill of dealing with those sneaky, snaky….. uh, I mean… all important allies."
"Yes, sir," Walter said returning O'Neill's smile and O'Neill could feel the sergeant's eyes on his back as he walked away. O'Neill knew what he was thinking, pitying him yet supporting his decision all the way. Oh man, there goes that good mood I was in, O'Neill thought.
Jack Gallagher was wishing he was anywhere but in the infirmary right this minute. He was not, and never had been one to be able to sit patiently unless, of course, he was in enemy territory. Times like that were different. He usually was busy keeping his mind alert by listening with ears attuned for danger and searching the area with his eyes, attention focused on one thing and one thing only, getting out of there alive.
The infirmary, on the other hand, required a person to sit on a bed or a chair, and wait while the doctor did her stuff, in this case checking to make sure he was absolutely healthy and fit for active duty. He'd been telling her for over a week that he was, but typical doctors, they don't believe anything unless a whole battery of tests tells them it's so. It had been six weeks since that murdering bastard, Toran, tried to carve his left leg like a turkey and Gallagher had put a lot of work to strengthen the muscles to get it back in shape. The cuts in his stomach and on his cheek had long since healed and he was pleased to see that the one on his cheek wouldn't leave too much of a scar.
He sighed and looked towards the doc's office wondering when she was going to show her face. It was a pretty face; he had to admit and grinned.
"Well, Cadet," the doctor said as she walked out of her office a minute later, "it looks like you are more than ready to get back out there. You ARE going to avoid all incoming bullets, staff weapon blasts, bombings, knifings and assorted other mishaps that could put you back in here, aren't you?" she asked.
"Heck yeah, doc," he said happily. He was going back out there! "I promise to dodge everything including native lunatics."
"See that you do, because the nurses have threatened to quit if either you or the General find yourselves in here. I swear," she continued, "you'd think the two of you were twins as you both act just alike. Oh yeah, I forgot," she said as she smacked her hand to her forehead, "you are the same," she teased.
"Yeah, well, don't tell that to the General," he said grinning at her. "You know how he gets when people tell him something he doesn't want to hear."
"Yes, I do," the doctor said with a great deal of emphasis while she smiled at him.
"Well, I'm off into the wild blue yonder," he said jumping off the bed and swinging his arms to the ceiling. "Or is it the wild blue event horizon," he puzzled, "Or maybe the…"
"Good-bye Jack," she said pointedly and walked away shaking her head and laughing.
"See ya, doc," Gallagher said as he practically ran out the door. No use giving her the chance to change her mind, he thought.
Gallagher found himself in Colonel Carter's lab. He had wandered there because he really didn't have anything better to do and he wanted to tell her the good news about his returning to her team. At least, he hoped it was good news for her.
"Hello, Colonel," he said as he walked in. He always felt lost in her lab because there were so many gadgets and doohickeys lying around and he was half afraid he'd break something if he even looked at it, so he just put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"Morning, Cadet," she responded looking up from her laptop. "Don't you have something better to do?" she asked.
"Well, so much for a welcoming party," he said, just a little hurt. "I know when I'm not wanted."
"Wait. Jack," she called after him as he had turned and walked out the door. "What I meant was, aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary getting the green light for active duty?"
"Oh yeah, I just came from there," he said relieved. "I'm a free man, Colonel Carter, ma'am. When do we leave?" "Not for awhile, I'm afraid. The Tok'ra will be here later today and SG-1 will be in attendance so you might want to be prepared," she said.
Great, Gallagher thought sarcastically, he couldn't wait. "Dad gonna be with them?" he asked Carter. Her father, Jacob Carter, just happened to be a host to one of those snake heads.
"I don't know, they haven't said who they're going to send. We'll have to wait and see."
"What are they coming here for," he said trying not to roll his eyes. He really didn't trust those guys.
"I don't know that either. You know how secretive they can be."
"Yeah, I know," he said remembering the missions he had gone on as Colonel O'Neill that involved the Tok'ra and he was always out of the loop on those missions. Well, this time it will be Colonel Carter who will have to deal with the little 'surprises'.
"Whatcha working on," he asked looking at her laptop.
"Just some calculations. I have been working on a theory of taking the addresses we found on the cartouche in Abydos and the addresses you… Colonel O'Neill put in after the Ancient's information was downloaded into his brain the first time, and cross-matching them to see if there is a possibility of coming up with even more addresses and then charting them if we do find any. It's gonna to take some time, though," she sighed, "but I thought I would get started on it while we waited for the Tok'ra."
"Wait," Gallagher said, "the first time?"
"What?"
"You just said the first time he had the information downloaded into his brain. Are you telling me that he did it again?" Gallagher didn't want to believe that someone would go through that again, the frustration of not knowing what was going on and then not being able to communicate. No, he didn't….
"Yes, he did," Carter said answering his spoken question. "Someone had to do it to keep it out of the hands of Anubis, and he figured he was the only one."
"That idiot!!" Gallagher fumed. "What in the hell was he thinking. God," he said pacing the floor and running his fingers through his hair, "when I think of how I almost died, and he goes and does it again!" Horror dawned on his face as he realized what he just said. "Begging your pardon, Colonel Carter, ma'am. I apologize for the harsh words against the General. It's just that he is such a…" he stopped himself again, swallowed hard, put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.
"That's quite all right, Cadet," she said, understanding. "I felt the same way, but someone did have to do it. Anubis was there and we were there and the Colonel just…, we almost lost him again," her eyes took on a haunted look and Gallagher quickly tried to dispel the mood.
"He survived though, huh? I always knew he had it in him," he teased. "Why just look at all the times I got his butt out of one scrape or another. I tell ya, that guy needs me here."
"Yes, but now who'll watch over you," Carter said laughing and Gallagher silently congratulated himself for chasing away the haunted look.
"That's your job now, Colonel Carter," he said leaning closer and grinning at her, "with a little help from my other guardian angels, Teal'c and Daniel."
"Somehow, I just can't picture either one with wings," she countered still smiling at him, "although Daniel came close when he ascended. The white light could be considered as wings, by some… something wrong Gallagher? You have that look on your face."
Her statement surprised him out of the flashback he was having of Daniel being there with him in that cell. Jack had missed his 'angel' during the times he didn't show up. "What look, ma'am?" he asked as he struggled to get his emotions under control.
"The one where you are determined to hide everything from the world, Gallagher," she said. "You know, no happiness, no anger, no nothing, the stone mask, as I have called it for as long as I've known General O'Neill."
"Oh, that look," Gallagher said and smiled to prove that she didn't know what she was talking about. "I was just reminded of something," he said dropping the false smile when he realized that she just wasn't buying it.
"Well, Colonel, I am going to go see if I can pester Teal'c for awhile," Gallagher said preparing to leave. "You know how testy he can get if he doesn't get his daily dose of aggravation from me."
The memory of her smile and laughter followed him out the door as he left.
He had just turned a corner in the hallway when the klaxons blared and an announcement was made that there was an off-world activation. Curiosity got the best of him and he headed toward the control room to see what was going on.