Author Website: Category: Pre-Slash, Drama, Mini-Angst Pairing: Jack/Daniel ... and it's all J/D Rating: PG-13 Season: 1 Spoilers: The Broca Divide Size: 14kb, ficlet Written: December 22, 2004 Revised: January 3, 2005 Summary: Military missions or scientific missions? Jack and Daniel battle it out as they set the perimeters of their budding friendship.
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers -- not mine, wish they were, especially Daniel, and Jack, too, but they aren't. A gal can dream though!
Notes: 1) Silent, unspoken thoughts by various characters are indicated with in front and behind them, such as Where am I
2) Thanks to my betas who always make my fics better: QuinGem, Drdjlover, Linda!
The Colonel and The Scientist by Orrymain
Jack slammed shut his front door. He walked several feet before he realized what he'd done.
"Oh, for crying out loud."
He made an about-face, returning to the door and then opened it. Sure enough, Daniel was just standing there, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His long shaggy hair was hanging in front of his face, covering his eyes. To Jack, it looked like it was by design, as if the young man were hiding.
"Daniel, get in here."
"Maybe I ..."
"DANIEL ... MOVE!"
The teammates had been arguing for hours. It had begun on PN2-382 when SG-1 had stumbled across an ancient temple that resembled the world's first civilization - Sumer. Daniel had spotted writings that he believed spoke of Enlil, one of the major gods in the Sumerian world. He had wanted to stay for a while to study the writings and the temple, but Jack had refused.
"This is a military mission, Daniel, not a science retreat," Jack had told him.
It was a claim later backed up by General Hammond.
"Doctor, I respect your argument, but the directive of this command does not include scientific exploration," the Major General had told Daniel in the heated post-mission briefing.
Slowly, the archaeologist walked into Jack's house where he was staying until he could find an apartment of his own. He moved to the patio door and stood there, a stoic expression on his face as he stared out at the yard.
"Daniel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slam the door in your face, but you have me so blasted angry."
"You're wrong, Jack."
"Wrong? I know what I intended, and I certainly didn't mean ..."
"No, not about the door," Daniel said, turning around. "You're wrong about why we're out there. We need to take advantage of everything we find, not just those ... weapons you glorify so much."
"The SGC is not a museum."
"The SGC doesn't know what it is; it's new, Jack. We have to ... we have to pave the way; we have to ... have to show them what it could be, in time, but every time we walk away from ruins like we did today, we're cheating ourselves."
"Daniel, we're not in this for education."
"Aren't we?" Daniel stared at his friend. "Aren't we trying to find out everything we can about our enemies and how to defeat them, and in doing that, don't we need to make sure we understand ourselves?" Jack stared at him blankly. "Jack, we need to make discoveries, all kinds. I realize this program is being run by the military, but does that mean we have to turn a blind eye to what we can learn about our history, and to what that history can teach us about the future?"
"We've been through this, Daniel. SG-1 is a first contact unit."
"Exactly, and when we make contact, we need to learn as much as we can."
"From an empty building?" Jack asked, his voice raised.
"No! From a temple alive with a people's history. There's a culture within those walls, Jack. Lives, so many lives, are written about there. There were artifacts, things people used to live, to ... make do from day to day. Didn't you see them, Jack? The god Enlil, his intended bride-to-be Ninhil, their servants: all of them were there." Daniel's voice sounded faraway as he pondered the wonders of the temple and the people who had built it. His eyes shined with excitement. Then, he focused on Jack, and it was clear he hadn't made up any ground with the military man. More forcefully, Daniel said, "It's worth a bit of our time, Colonel."
"Daniel, I'm sorry, but we can't do it. The Pentagon ..."
"Stop being an ostrich, Jack. You have a brain, use it!"
"Very funny, Daniel. I'm part of a chain of command."
"You just don't want to. It's ... inconvenient; interferes with ... fishing and watching cartoons. Isn't that the truth?"
"Daniel, can it," Jack said, tired and frustrated of the battle. He turned, shaking his head rapidly, then said, "Just let it go, will ya?"
"I can't. This is too important."
"Important to you, Daniel, not to the military, and certainly not to the Goa'uld who personally don't care one bit about what urn was used by ... Entel whatever."
"There's more to what we're doing than the Goa'uld."
Jack turned back to face Daniel.
"Tell that to the Brass!" he said angrily.
"I have been, with no support from you."
"Support? Daniel, I'm a Colonel in the United States Air Force. I follow orders, something I wish you'd learn to do."
"I'm not in the military, Colonel."
"That's painfully obvious," Jack retorted, crossing the room to enter the kitchen and pull out a beer. "Stubborn scientists," he muttered as he opened the bottle and took a swig.
"Fine."
Daniel moved out of Jack's sight, and at first, Jack was relieved.
War's over for today. In a flash, though, Jack suddenly panicked. Something inside him began to churn. He felt uncomfortable, and as he honed in on the feeling, he realized it was a warning. What the ...? He moved swiftly to the living room and toward the steps leading to the second floor, going up three stairs before he caught up with his friend. "Daniel, for crying out loud, where are you going?"
"To a hotel, somewhere, anywhere."
"We've been through this, Danny."
"Daniel. Jack, we're two very different people. All we do is ... argue."
"No, we don't. Danny ... Daniel," Jack corrected, seeing his friend's face, "you're right. We are different. We believe different things, and we do things differently, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to get along."
"How? I mean, we've been fighting for hours."
"Yeah," Jack smiled. "Exhausting, isn't it?"
"Very," Daniel conceded, a small smile on his face.
"So, we go on the roof, have a couple of beers, order some pizza, and ... talk about ... whatever we talk about."
Daniel pondered Jack's idea. He hated beer, and he'd had more pizza in the past few weeks than in his entire lifetime, but he found that the concept of sitting up on the roof deck under the stars with Jack O'Neill was appealing to him.
"Danny, let's agree to disagree. Sure, we'll fight. That's who we are, but at the end of the day, let's put it to bed. Uh, that's a figure of speech."
"I figured that out, Jack," Daniel replied. He looked into Jack's eyes. There was friendship there, and he wanted that friendship, even if Jack did drive him crazy half the time. "Fine. We'll ... agree to ... disagree."
"Good man. I'll order the pizza."
Jack walked over towards the phone.
"Jack, I won't let this go; it's just too important. I wish I could make you understand that."
"I'm just a dumb Colonel, Daniel. I don't know anything about culture and dead gods."
"You're wrong, Jack." Jack looked up at the younger man. "You're not a dumb Colonel. I don't believe that. Just ... think about what I said, okay? That's all I'm asking ... for you to think about it."
"I'll give it all the thought it's worth."
Daniel sighed, but decided to give it up for the night. He was hungry. Walking by his friend on his way to the patio, Daniel said, "And get some cheese sticks, too."
"Bossy."
"Takes one to know one."
The two chuckled and then continued on with their night.
The following week, SG-1 had visited another new world, known as The Land of Light. They had come in search of new technology or anything to help in their war against the Goa'uld, but instead, they found a simple but welcoming people. Once again, Daniel had wanted to stay, and once again, Jack had refused, so one more time, as the debriefing continued, Daniel felt duty-bound to make his case to General Hammond.
As Hammond moved to his seat, Daniel stood up to emphasize his position.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I know I'm a guest at this party, but I have to protest."
"Let me guess, Doctor, this is the science versus military discussion again?"
"Well ... yes. This mission was a perfect example of my argument. We should have stayed on that planet longer; it was the perfect opportunity to study Minoan culture."
Jack grimaced as he listened to his 2IC support Daniel in his quest.
How'd I end up with two scientists on my team anyway? Two?
He grimaced again as Daniel and Hammond conversed. He yawned as Daniel talked about the opportunity to study The Broca Divide. Finally, when he thought Daniel and Sam were through with their history lesson, he asked, "Should I start the debriefing, Sir?"
Hammond answered, "That would be a good idea, Colonel."
Objecting, Daniel argued, "Now, just, just ..." he flung his hand downward in front of him, "... wait a minute!"
A bit frustrated, Hammond said, "Doctor Jackson, you're wasting your breath. You've already won the argument."
Daniel slammed his hand on the table, Hammond's words not having sunk in yet.
"But I have to insist you ..." Daniel looked up, stunned. "What, what, what, what? I've already won?"
The General explained, "The President agrees with you. He's asked that we evaluate the scientific and cultural value of each mission from now on."
"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack protested from his seat near the General.
"He has?" Daniel asked in shock.
Sam was excited. "That's great!" she exclaimed.
After an outburst from a member of SG-3 which temporarily disrupted the briefing, and the Marine in question was sent to the infirmary for observation, the meeting was dismissed. They all stood and began to exit. Daniel looked at Jack.
"A little science won't kill you, Jack."
"No, but it might bore me to death."
Daniel rolled his eyes and left the room. In another moment, only Jack and General Hammond remained.
Shoot! Before reaching the elevator that would take him to his office on Level 18, Daniel realized he had left his notebook on the table in the briefing room. He turned around and headed back to the briefing room. He was about to enter when he heard his name. Old habits were hard to break, and, feeling vulnerable, the archaeologist chose to back up a bit and stay out of sight. I shouldn't eavesdrop, but ...
Daniel was still so unsure about his position at the SGC, and, with Jack's lack of support for his cultural study on missions, he couldn't help but listen in.
"Jack, why are you giving Doctor Jackson such a hard time about this?"
"Oh, you know how it is, Sir, scientists and their civilizations. It's not exactly the yellow brick road for the military."
Hammond smiled as he glanced down for a second.
"Colonel, if you don't approve of these missions, then why did you spend thirty minutes in my office last week, suggesting that we allow Doctor Jackson to ... what was your word, Jack?"
Jack coughed, "I believe I said 'indulge'." Hammond stared in expectation of a response. "I'm just trying to humor the geek, General."
"Right, Colonel."
"You know me and rocks, Sir; we just don't get along."
"Of course, you don't." Hammond sighed, letting out a humorous puff of air. "Get out of my hair, Colonel."
"Hair ... Sir?"
In the corridor, Daniel couldn't help a tiny smile from appearing on his face. Still, he didn't want to get caught, especially now.
I'll get my notebook later. As he headed to the elevator, Daniel's smile grew, knowing that Jack had obviously given his view on cultural study the thought it deserved. Thank you, Jack.
The elevator doors opened, and Daniel went inside, pressing the proper button.
Maybe someday I'll let you know that I just overheard that conversation, and that I know you're really a marshmallow. Daniel's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion. A marshmallow? Jackson, you're losing it!
Daniel shook his head at his strange thought and waited for the elevator to reach his destination so he could return to his office and begin to write his mission report on The Land Of Light.
Back in the conference room, Hammond glared at his 2IC for the comment about hair. The major general was bald and obviously wasn't appreciating Jack's current attempt at humor.
Jack smiled in response to the glare and made a slow retreat. He had some time to kill before he needed to start his next task, and as he walked down the corridor to his office, he wondered what he could do. Then he smiled, a devious smile. A few minutes later ...
"Oh, Dannyboy ..."
"Jack, put that down!"
Finis - Finished - Done - The End - But is it ever Really?