Disclaimer: Neither Stargate:SG1 nor Quantum Leap belong to me... in fact nor do any other TV or book series, and I have no intention of claiming that they do. I hereby swear that I will try to play nicely and not damage any of the lovely characters.
Reviewers: once again, please take a bow because you are superstars! 'Healthy' low fat, 100% sugar marshmallows all round this time :)
Raneko: apologies and I now understand the confusion – I've never read any of the books, so I didn't realise they take a definite side on the body/mind debate.
Daniel was in a real quandary. Here on his desk was a photographed plaque that showed writings in both the 'Universal' language of elements used by the alliance of 4 races at Heliopolis and another language. The trouble was that for all his skill and knowledge he couldn't translate either. Next to him was a series of photographs from PX7-418 that SG5 had brought back a few months ago, taken of a mural on that planet – but none of the inhabitants had a clue what it was or what it meant. The symbols, however, matched those from this plaque that SG3 had found on P2Q-198. He knew that if he could solve the one, the other might soon follow – like the Rosetta Stone here on Earth – and he felt sure that he'd be able to crack what he'd dubbed 'cunei-runes' long before he would the so-called 'Universal' language. On the other hand, he wasn't getting anywhere with either of them right now.
His frustrated gaze shifted to the daybed on the far side of his office. General Hammond had authorised it months ago after realising that his resident archaeologist wasn't a fan of going home each night, preferring to funnel his energies into long-term bursts of problem-solving instead. With a responsibility for maintaining Earth's security from the Goa'uld threat, Hammond had simply given in to common sense and supplied a bed for when Dr Jackson ran out of either steam or his beloved caffeine. It wasn't Daniel occupying the bed right now though, but Colonel Jack O'Neill.
For some unknown reason, Jack – Jack! – had stumbled on his way down the ramp when they came back from P3X-970, spraining his ankle and somehow knocking himself unconscious. Daniel hadn't seen it because he'd been cradling an artefact from that world that needed to be placed in containment straight away – it contained traces of naquadah, the extra-terrestrial element used in many Goa'uld technologies, so Sam had wanted it safe in her lab. Furthermore – and despite Jack's comment that it resembled something for making popcorn – a minor Goa'uld named Hemuset had valued it enough to send her Jaffa running after them. So now Sam was up late in her lab trying to understand the 'popcorn machine', Daniel was trying to translate two languages at once, and Jack... well, SGs 6 and 8 had come back from PJ1-427 with wounded so he and his ankle had been shipped out to Daniel's office in a wheelchair. It was too late to send the Colonel home, and Daniel didn't mind. He'd never heard his friend snore quite like that before though.
Looking back to his photos, Daniel frowned and went over his conversation with Sam earlier in his mind.
"I couldn't believe it Daniel. I got to the end of the ramp, saw that you were safely out of the Gate room, span round to return fire, and all I could see was the Colonel lying flat on his face! At any other time I'd have found it funny, but not with Jaffa still aiming for the wormhole, you know?" Sam's face was incredulous as she paced up and down in front of him, gesticulating madly. "Then instead of rolling on his back and getting out his MP-5, or coming down the ramp, he pushed himself off the side, presumably hit his head, curled up in a ball and fell unconscious!"
"We're all concerned about him Sam, don't worry," Daniel had said, trying to soothe his teammate. "It is weird, I'm not denying that, but Janet says he'll be fine. At least he wasn't hit, and there's only a sprain to his ankle. Besides, General Hammond is standing us down for 5 days so you'll have plenty of time to work out what this thing does while we wait for Teal'c to come back from Chulak."
"Yeh, well, it's just not like him. Jack O'Neill is far too experienced to be tripping over a ramp, and he certainly isn't one to run away from a fight." Sam was defiant in her frustration.
"So what are you saying Sam?" Daniel responded. "That Jack is getting old? Or that somehow a Goa'uld got into him without leaving a scar? I don't think so."
Sam had crossed her arms and propped herself up against one of her workbenches. "No...I guess I'm just not used to the Colonel slipping up, or getting injured – especially not like this. It's...weird."
Laughing, Daniel went to what he thought was the heart of the matter. "Good point, Sam. Slipping and getting hurt is normally my bag, I know that. Daniel the clumsy spacemonkey with allergies from hell."
"Jack's not perfect though, no-one is," he continued, leaning up next to Sam and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Chances are an energy bolt flew too close and set him off balance, or maybe he has an inner ear infection, I don't know. Either way that's neither here nor there, because injured or not the Jack O'Neill we all know and love is going to be out of that bed in no time, poking his nose into your experiments and my research, driving us both nuts."
Now it was Sam's turn to chuckle. "You're right – he'll be uncontainable, demanding to know what the hell was so important about this damn object to make him twist his ankle for crying out loud."
Her impression of their commanding officer – well, hers anyway, since Daniel was a civilian – was so accurate that they both dissolved into fits of laughter.
"Now, now Captain Carter – I, erm, I don't think that's any way to speak about your superior officer!" he managed to get out. "And besides, you know that if you try to explain why it is so important he'll look at you as if you're speaking ancient Greek. English for the stupid people please, Carter?"
Another wave of laughter followed before they both realised that while they had broken the tension, they still hadn't resolved anything. On the other hand, Jack was fine, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about... maybe it was simply the realisation that he was just as fallible as any other human being that had set them both on edge. SG1 was a team, and with Teal'c visiting his son Ryac and mentor Bra'tac they were already one man down. Not only that, but they were parts of a whole and the Colonel was the leader of that whole.
"Thank God it was just a lousy ankle, eh Sam?" Daniel offered, hoping to receive a sign that his friend had gotten it out of her system too. He was used to playing the devil's advocate, but rarely had to when it came to his own team.
"You've got it Daniel, you've got it." Sam straightened her clothes and pushed her hair back into place. "Anyway," she continued, standing up straight, "I'd better get on with the preliminary analysis of this artefact. If the Colonel's right and it is a popcorn machine I'll never hear the end of it!"
Daniel nodded cheerfully, "Super, and I'll get back to those cunei-runes. Might see you by the coffee machine at some small hour of the morning then?"
His reference to their common habit of working all hours scattered the last wrinkles of anxiety in Sam's expression. "I expect so Daniel – just don't expect to see me there as often as you. We're not all caffeine junkies you know."
"Fine then," the archaeologist smiled and waved, "see you when I see you! And good luck with the popcorn machine."
And that had been the end of the conversation, all bar a crumpled sheaf of paper that had sailed through the air and hit the back of his head as he walked through the door. It had to have been Sam who threw it, since both her lab assistants had gone home for the night, but he'd decided not to give her the benefit of a reaction.
Right now though, he allowed himself to feel a tremor of worry. After all they'd been through he shouldn't be this concerned about something as small as a sprained ankle, but Sam was right – it wasn't like Jack to slip up like that. Sure he could be brash and sarcastic, winding up even the calmest people without trying, but he was an experienced officer who could usually cope with anything that was thrown at him. Physically he was in far better shape than most people his age, with the agility to match thanks to regular one-on-one practices with Teal'c. More importantly, he was Daniel's best friend and it worried the archaeologist that there might be something wrong that he didn't know about.
Sighing, Daniel pushed his chair back and stood up. It was time for a walk and some late-night java. Picking up the extra-large thermos mug – or should it be jug? – that Jack had given him for his last birthday, Daniel headed out of the door and shut it quietly so as not to disturb his guest. At least the guy sounded like he was getting a good night's sleep for once...
'And at least he can't mess up my stuff while he's snoring,' Daniel mused, trying not to chuckle as he remembered some of the unmitigated havoc that O'Neill could wreak on a defenceless lab.
Padding through the corridors of the SGC, Daniel contemplated how much quieter the base was during the night. That was the real reason he enjoyed staying back late, and he knew it. The base became as dead as an old library at times like this, because the only people who stayed behind were those with work to do – plus those on duty. It reminded him of his years back as a doctoral student, burning the candle at both ends to get his thesis finished, and later pursuing his own research – then being laughed out of academia for his sins. Sometimes he thought that it might be nice to go back to those days, maybe even set the academic world straight, but then he wouldn't be part of SG1 and wouldn't have met his lost wife, Sha're...
Rather than facing a fresh wave of melancholy, Daniel hurried up. There was no one in the way at this time of night, so he could even extend to a light jog. Nodding to a disapproving Airman guarding the main corridor toward the Gate room and other operational areas, Daniel turned a corner, passed by the swing doors to the base canteen and entered its small off-shoot and his destination – the staff kitchen.
'Oh heavenly source of caffeine!' he exulted, noticing the near-full level of the coffee machine and noticeable lack of oily scum. A fresh pot of coffee, just waiting to supply a tired archaeologist with his midnight hit – or perhaps the medical staff dealing with SGs 6 and 8. Taking a small bottle of milk from the fridge, he closed the fridge door and reached up to the cupboard above and noticed the clock on the wall, reading with a shock that it was nearly 2am.
"0200 hours, if you please Dr Jackson," he mumbled under his breath as he rummaged through the cupboard, mocking the Marine Gunnery Sergeant who was constantly trying to teach the civilian consultants at the base proper military etiquette. They couldn't say he wasn't working for his pay, now could they?
His hand pushed a few more packets aside then found what he was looking for – a knobbly foil packet, closed up with a twisted wire tie. Soon he was fumbling with the packet and one hand and the milk in the other, so Daniel decided to put them down and do one thing at a time. Packet first. Unwinding the tie, he brought the opened top to his nose and breathed deep.
"Oh yes, this is what I came for," he murmured happily.
Tipping the packet up, a few small brown balls tumbled out into Daniel's hand and he happily stuffed them in his mouth. You couldn't beat chocolate covered coffee beans at 2 in the morning, and in his opinion there just wasn't anything better. Then again, thanks to Janet he had promised to leave the packet here by the coffee machine so that he didn't eat too many. Ruefully he had conceded her point, and now kept them tucked away behind innumerable boxes of herbal tea left by other base staff. For the most part they were left alone there too, since no one wanted to annoy the SGC's top archaeologist.
Chewing with gusto, Daniel moved on to frothing up a little milk and made his giant mug of coffee.
'Strong and dark, like his women,' he joked to himself, repeating a comment he'd heard on TV way back when he'd actually watched one, then stopped in mid-chuckle. Sha're had been strong in heart and mind, with deeply tanned skin, near-black hair and brown eyes that he'd been happy to drown in day in day out. Now her body belonged to the Goa'uld Ammonet, Apophis' queen.
Daniel put down his coffee and tied the packet of coffee beans back up, replaced the milk in the fridge and stomped off towards his office, grasping the mug as if he could strangle it and not caring one iota that he spilt some of the hot coffee over his unprotected hands. There was no kidding anyone about why Dr Jackson remained so dedicated to the SGC, and the opportunity for research was only part of it.
Back at his office door he pushed it open with more violence than most would ever see from the mild-mannered archaeologist – probably because despite his open behaviour he was a very guarded man, opening his private thoughts only to those he trusted and cared about. Those thoughts were close to the surface now though, swamping the mental reminder that Jack O'Neill was asleep on his daybed. Or had been.
"Daniel?" The other man asked, rubbing his eyes. "Is everything all right?"
Standing still in the middle of the room, taking deep breaths and clutching his extra-large mug of coffee, Daniel felt remorse that he'd allowed his feelings to get the better of him. More than that he'd woken up his best friend, who was now pushing himself up and round to sit upright on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry Jack, it all just fell out from under me again. After everything we've tried, everything we're doing, I still have no idea where Sha're is or whether we'll ever get her back."
He hung his head, blew a sigh of immense sadness, and made his way round the desk to sit down. "I shouldn't have woken you up – it was just a door, but it was in my way. I forgot that you were behind it."
Jack didn't seem annoyed, thankfully. He was leaning forward, hands clasped, his bandaged right foot resting lightly on the floor while the left took any weight. Trying not to yawn too much too, by the look of it.
"We'll find her Daniel, don't worry about that."
Daniel wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but there seemed to be a gleam of hope in his friend's eye as he said the oft-repeated words that no longer meant anything to Daniel. It wasn't Jack's fault – or anyone else's – they were all helping, but his search was secondary to the SGC's mission, and Apophis was a System Lord who they could not target directly... yet.
"The sooner the better, Jack. Look, I have some coffee in this bucket you gave me – if you'd like some you're welcome to share. I warn you though, it's Daniel-strength and the time is 2am. What do you say?"
Jack winced visibly. "Maybe not Daniel – I may as well make some attempt to get back on to standard time."
"It's 9am in London, Jack – that's a standard time too you know."
"Ha ha," his friend responded sarcastically, again with that gleam in his eye. "No, I'll take the sleep option thanks. Good night, Daniel."
"Sweet dreams," the archaeologist returned with a small smile.
Jack was fine – he just needed some time to heal. Didn't they all?
Next chapter: Project Quantum Leap.