Trepidation of the Spheres, Part 3
"So Carter's completely shocked because it was just supposed to be my retirement shin-dig, and here we are promoting her. Of course the whole base knew it was going to happen, but for as smart as she is, she can be a little slow on the uptake sometimes." Jack O'Neill paused in his story and ducked out of the way as a piece of Sam's roll came flying past his ear. Janet grinned at them. Dinner had turned out to be surprisingly relaxing. "And then," continued O'Neill, "I had to make this little 'it's been so great to work with you, even though I'm not really going away' speech that nobody wanted to listen to because they all knew there was booze and barbeque at Danny and Janet's as soon as I shut up. But I figured it was the last time I was going to have everyone's attention like that, so I was going to make it good. So I told them the main reason I was retiring was so that I could do something I'd been waiting almost ten years to do. And I hobbled down off the stupid platform—I had busted my knee, remember—and grabbed our newest Colonel and gave her a kiss she'll never forget, right in front of everyone!" Jack grinned and looked pleased with himself while Sam blushed prettily.
"Then they all spent the whole barbeque cashing in the betting pools," she added wryly.
Janet smiled at them, truly pleased. "I'm glad it worked out for you two," she said. "I'm afraid my friends weren't so lucky. I've never seen two people more destined for each other, but somehow they never got the chance they needed." Sam looked slightly distressed at Janet's news. When she heard that that the SGC had been disbanded in Janet's universe, she just assumed that Jack and Sam had been able to be together.
"What happened?" she asked cautiously.
"Well, I guess there's no real harm in telling you," Janet answered. "Sam was always kind of reticent about what really happened between them, but for whatever reason, after the SGC was dissolved, Sam married this guy named Joe, and Jack went back to Minnesota to fish. I'm afraid they died regretting those choices." She paused. Everyone at the table had grown very quiet. "I just hope the note went through so that their younger selves have a second chance. I hope we all have a second chance." Janet trailed off, her eyes misting over slightly. She stared down at her plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with her fork.
There were similarities between this world and hers, to be sure, but also significant differences. For instance, SG-1 was a different team. In addition to Jack's retirement, Daniel scarcely ever went off-world anymore since Nick was born. Instead, SG-1 consisted of Sam, Teal'c, this Jonas Quinn, who seemed to be a civilian uber-geek, and Captain Robinson, whom Janet didn't know much about since he had declined their dinner invitation. However, the biggest and most painful difference, she learned, was that there had been no Cassie in this universe, or at least no Cassie who had come to the SGC and into her life. Janet and her daughter hadn't seen as much of one another as they would have liked in the past few years, but they phoned every weekend. She couldn't believe that last Saturday when they had hung up was really the last time they would ever speak.
Sam watched Janet while trying not to look like she was doing so. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be in this woman's shoes. She could tell that Janet was hoping for a second chance for her own former self, not just those of Sam and Jack. Sam wondered if that was a second chance with Daniel. The subject of either universe's Daniel had been fairly studiously avoided throughout their dinner conversation. After the evening's scene with Nick, Sam felt that talking about him might be too awkward for Janet, who clearly hadn't expected her counterpart to have been married to Daniel. Nevertheless, Sam noticed the way Janet had watched Daniel throughout the briefing, and she was dying to know if Janet and her Daniel had been involved.
All of a sudden, Sam felt a jab in her side, and she looked up to follow Jack's eyes to the door of the commissary. A very harried-looking Daniel Jackson had just walked in the door and was headed toward their table. Janet had seen him, too, and had paled again.
Jack decided to opt for nonchalant. "Hey, Danny, grab a tray. How's Nick doing?" The expression on Daniel's face clearly indicated that nonchalant was not the way to go.
"Actually, he's not so good. He's really upset himself, and we can't get him to calm down. I keep thinking he'll wear himself out; he's been crying for well over an hour. Steven wants to give him a sedative, but—" Daniel trailed off, looking nervous and worried. He turned to look more directly at Janet, though he still couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "Um, earlier when he saw you, he thought you were, were his mother. He keeps crying for 'mommy.' I, uh, I didn't know if you could come down and maybe, I don't know, maybe he would calm down for you." He looked tortured as he spoke, and Jack couldn't begin to fathom the emotions that must be running through his friend's mind. Janet was wide-eyed and ghostly pale, but she quickly assented and got up to follow Daniel back to the infirmary. Jack started to get up as well, but Sam's hand on his arm checked his movement.
"Let them go," she whispered. "They've got to talk sometime, and it will probably be easier without us hanging around." He nodded in understanding and watched the pair exit the commissary.
Daniel opened the door of the commissary for Janet, and out of habit reached to her lower back to guide her through. Just before he touched her, he caught himself and pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned. It's not her, it's not her, it's not her, he repeated to himself for about the ten thousandth time in the past few hours. Fortunately, she seemed not to have noticed. They headed toward the infirmary without speaking. With every step, Daniel became more convinced that this wasn't a good idea. How would he ever make Nick understand that his mother was dead if he produced this carbon copy whenever Nick cried for mommy? As the elevator doors opened, he opened his mouth to tell her that it wasn't a good idea, but his son's now-hoarse wails greeted his ears and made his heart break. He knew that he would do anything for Nick, and if that included letting Janet (it's not her!) see him, so be it.
They walked in the room to find Dr. Tharp holding tenuously to a crying, struggling Nick. The boy's face was red and tear-stained, his nose was running, and his light brown hair was drenched with sweat. When he saw Janet, his cries increased in intensity, and he began straining against Steven toward her.
"Mommymommymommymommymommy!" he cried as Janet crossed the room and drew him into her arms.
"Shh, shh, baby, it's okay. You're okay," she murmured as he wrapped arms and legs around her, hanging on for dear life. His fists grasped her shirt tightly. She rocked him back and forth for a few minutes as his sobs became softer and dissolved into hiccups. She was aware of Daniel standing close, watching their every move. Dr. Tharp had left, giving them some privacy.
"Mommy?"
"I'm here," Janet said, and instantly she wished she hadn't. It was her automatic response to Cassie, begun in the early days when the girl still had almost nightly nightmares. Over the years it became hers and Cassie's conditioned way to open many conversations. Now, however, not only were painful images of her lost daughter crowding into her head, but she had just identified herself to this little boy as his mother. And she wasn't. She hazarded a glance at Daniel and realized that in this universe as well, she could tell exactly what he was thinking.
"I don't think it's a good idea—" he began.
"I know," she interrupted. "I'm sorry."
Daniel could hardly control the emotions coursing through him as he watched this woman, so very like his wife, holding their son. Nick had relaxed somewhat, and Janet seated herself in a chair, settling the boy on her lap. He still clung to her, and as Daniel sat down in the chair next to her, he realized she was murmuring the same comforting nonsense words that his Janet used. It's not her, he reminded himself. She was watching Nick and not him, so it was easier to look at her, and as he did so, he saw that she was different from his Janet. She was thinner, for one thing, more like Janet had been years ago when they first met. And her hair was longer, falling to her shoulders. As he watched her soothing Nick, he felt himself relax as well. He was going to have to talk to her. He wanted to talk to her, for crying out loud, but he couldn't quite work up the nerve. Just then, she looked up from Nick and caught him staring at her. She blushed a little.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just, you look so much like her," he said, surprised at how easy it was to speak to her.
"So do you. Look like him, I mean. My, uh, the Daniel from my universe. Except for the contact lenses, that is." She paused a moment and looked down. He wondered to what extent the other Daniel had been her Daniel. "I know this is really weird for both of us," she concluded.
He nodded. "You and Daniel were . . .?" He left the question open-ended. She smiled faintly and sighed.
"Complicated," she answered. "After Sha're died, there were times when I thought we might, I don't know, act on the damn sexual tension. But when the SGC disbanded, we went our separate ways until about a week ago." The look in her eyes was fond, but nonetheless they were glassy with unshed tears. "I suppose it's better late than never, but we only had four days." He raised his eyebrows, not quite sure what to say in response. Although the pain of losing his wife two months ago was still acute, he couldn't fathom being introduced to this Janet the very day he'd lost his Janet. And they had had seven years together—still not nearly long enough, but so much more time than four days.
He watched as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again, a look of steely strength in them. He recognized it instantly as the "Dr. Fraiser" professional mask. She could be damn strong behind it, though he had become pretty good at breaking it down. It wasn't fair, though, to try to break down this woman's mask. She probably needed all the emotional protection she could get right now. He wished he could muster some of her strength.
"I think he's asleep," Janet said softly. Indeed, Nick had relaxed against her chest and was breathing deeply, his puffy eyes closed.
"I guess I should take him back to my quarters. It's not worth it to try to go home tonight," Daniel answered. He walked over to Janet's chair and reached down for Nick. The boy roused a little, cried out once more for "Mommy," and tightened his grip on Janet's shirt.
"It's okay, Nick," she whispered, rocking him a little. "We're just taking you to Daddy's room to sleep." She looked up at Daniel. "I'll carry him," she said with enough of a question in her voice to allow him to object if he wanted to. He simply nodded and reached down to help her out of her chair.
It was the first physical contact between them—his hand on her elbow—and both of them locked eyes instantly. From her expression, Daniel knew that she felt the electric spark just like he had. Her arm radiated warmth even through her shirt sleeve, and his hand felt magnetically connected to her. Part of his brain screamed at him to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, and another part upped the volume of the "it's not her!" mantra. The result of the conflict was the momentary inability to do anything but stand there and stare at her staring back at him.
The awkward moment was broken abruptly as Steven Tharp rapped lightly on the doorframe and entered the room. Daniel pulled his hand away quickly, and he and Janet both colored slightly. Steven was conscious of having embarrassed them, but he decided it was better to act like nothing had happened.
"I thought I would just come check on Nick," the doctor explained.
"He's asleep," Daniel answered. "We were just taking him to my quarters where he'll be more comfortable. Thanks for your help, Steven."
"Any time, Daniel. You know that." Daniel nodded, and Steven watched the trio exit his infirmary. It felt like déjà vu. One of the many times that Nick had fallen asleep on the little cot in his mother's office when she had to work late, and Daniel had come down to walk them back up to their quarters. Steven blinked and shook his head a little as he watched the elevator doors close behind them.
Daniel had not moved out of the larger quarters that he and his Janet had shared: there was a double bed (where the SGC managed to find a military-issue double bed they had never figured out) and a small cot in the corner for Nick. He gestured for Janet to lay the boy down on the cot and then watched as she did so, gently slipping off his shoes, pulling the cover over him, smoothing his hair, and placing a soft kiss on his temple. Nick didn't wake up. Daniel felt his emotions rise to the surface yet again as he saw them together, and he did his best to quell them again as she turned around to face him. He had only turned on a small lamp, and he was glad the room was dim.
"Thank you," he managed to say. "I hate sedatives so much myself that I just couldn't let Steven do that to him. I didn't know what else to do. You've been wonderful; you're great with children." He saw immediately that he had said something wrong because she closed her eyes again and breathed deeply several times, obviously trying to restore the "Dr. Fraiser" face, but when she opened her eyes, they brimmed with tears.
"He's a beautiful child," she said after a moment, her voice choking slightly. Another deep breath. "I'm sorry. I- I miss my daughter is all. I don't know why Nick should necessarily make me think of her—she's almost 25 years old! She was adopted; I didn't even know her when she was his age." She swiped fiercely at a tear that had spilled over. The magnetism began to overpower the caution in Daniel's mind as he took a step toward her, tears stinging up behind his own eyes. She had a daughter. She not only lost her lover but her daughter as well. He couldn't imagine—could he possibly go on if he, God forbid, lost Nick too? He took another step toward her.
"What's her name?" he asked in a trembling voice, more to remind himself that this wasn't his Janet than anything else.
"Cassandra," whispered Janet, who had stopped wiping away the tears that were falling. She knew she should get out of here. Her guard was down, and she couldn't raise it again, no matter how hard she tried, and between the turmoil and passion of the past week and the unfathomable events of the day, she was quickly melting into a pool of emotional exhaustion. Putting little Nick to bed had nearly finished her, emotionally, and seeing Daniel here in front of her, in pain, tears coming to his eyes, was more than she could bear. He thinks you're his wife, she tried to tell herself, willing her body to escape to the VIP room where she could be alone. As much as you think you want him in your arms, it isn't really him.
She wasn't sure who reached for whom, but suddenly she was in his arms, sobbing into his chest. She heard his strangled cry of "Jan!" as his own tears began to fall into her hair. Any pretense of rational thought was gone. She was only aware of his arms around her and of his unique scent. She marveled that this Daniel should smell exactly the same as her Daniel. No! she thought suddenly, as if a switch had gone off in her mind. It isn't him! Get out of here! You think he's your lover, and he thinks you're his wife, and you're both wrong. Unfortunately, her body wasn't listening, and she had to devote her full amount of strength to forcing her arms to release him.
"No, Daniel, this isn't fair," she gasped, pulling away and taking a step back. He looked stunned and reached toward her again. "I'm not her, and you're not him," she said, moving toward the door. "I'm not her. I'm sorry." His expression was one of pure anguish, but he dropped his hands, seeming to understand.
"I'm sorry, Janet." She forced herself to open the door. "Wait," he called softly as she moved into the corridor. "Nick—he may be upset in the morning when you're gone. Will you see him?"
She nodded slightly. "If you think it would be okay, yes, I would like to see him."
She didn't look back as she walked down the long corridor toward the VIP quarters, but she never heard his door close again, and she could feel him watching her. As soon as she got to her room, she threw herself on the bed, curled up into a fetal position, and sobbed herself to sleep.