AN: Aaahhhhh I hate conflict and arguments but here we are. I had second hand stress the whole time I wrote this asdlkasd.

This chapter references episode 7x01 'Fallen,' where Daniel comes back from his ascension.


Topping Kinsey in the smarmy, self-interested arena is a prodigious feat that borders on the miraculous.

Somehow Senator Lawrence manages it, Senator Lawrence being a newly elected, compact, dark haired man with piercing green eyes who also happens to be the bane of Daniel's afternoon.

'I'm just visiting from Washington for a leisurely tour of your stargate program,' he'd said. Pah. They all know better.

He's the thorn in the SGC's side du jour and the humour of it all wore off five minutes into this fifteen-minute argument. Sorry, discussion.

Woolsey insists on calling it a discussion.

Daniel insists that people have basic human rights, be they alien or from Earth, yet here they are.

Here being the SGC briefing room staring down a red-faced Lawrence. The man doesn't really have any inches on him, in fact Daniel is the same height, but his muscle mass also borders on prodigious. Even Teal'c was impressed at the meet and greet.

Daniel keenly feels this physical power difference, let alone the moral one.

"It's wrong," he snaps, waspish. "We cannot abandon an entire planet to extinction by ice age just because we don't have a lot of time for evacuation efforts. We have to try."

Woolsey clears his throat from the sidelines. "Ethics are not the only concern here."

"Oh?" Daniel rounds on him, upped blood pressure thundering in his ears. "Do enlighten me."

"We have to consider cost."

Daniel's brows fly upward but his mouth drops open. "Cost? Excuse me, did you just say cost?"

"Budgets have to be balanced too, Dr. Jackson. I know you know this."

"This isn't a question of cost—this is a question of human life. Surely even you can look up from your calculator once in a while to appreciate that."

"Are we sure it is?" Lawrence pipes suddenly. So sudden that Daniel jumps. He doesn't understand this wry inquiry and thus goes for a glower.

Lawrence's eyes don't narrow or move off Daniel. "Human life, I mean? Can we really categorize the citizens of P5-X664 that way?"

All three men stand in a tight triangle, and Daniel sorely regrets it since this means he can't shoot to his feet for an excuse to jump in the smug senator's face. Not to mention Woolsey's.

Walter hovers in the background looking fretful, at the top of the stairs. So do a few curious airmen.

They're all sweating.

This isn't an official meeting, more of a corner-Daniel-and-convince-him-to-change-Hammond's-mind-about-helping-a-beleagured-planet situation. Lawrence knows he can't go over Hammond's head to the president with this—neither can Woolsey—and so they've taken to coercing Hammond's trusted advisors.

Apparently today that's me.

He'd been the one to persuade Hammond to help in the first place, not that the good general needed much convincing. Daniel only now realizes what a huge target that places on his back.

"You're the one who praises science as the final authority," says Daniel, words measured out by syllable. "Fine. In that case, you should know those people are biologically proven human by leading geneticists in this facility. They're just like us."

"But are they identical, Doctor?"

Daniel's jaw works one way, then the other. "No. Of course not, especially after millennia of the gene pool isolated light years away."

"There you go. Not so like us after all."

"Yes, there are differences in genetic makeup, but all humans work that way," Daniel explains. "If you take a man from a snow pass in Tibet and one from the jungles of Brazil, you'll see similar DNA discrepancies."

Now Lawrence's eyes do narrow and Daniel decides this is much worse. His skin prickles.

"What happened to no outside interference in other societies' business?"

"What happened to humanitarian efforts?" Daniel fires back. "And this isn't us interfering in culture or laws, this is an unpreventable natural disaster based on an ice floe that melted from a solar flare and caused an atmospheric shift."

Woolsey squirms on his feet, but Daniel gets the sense that if he takes his eyes off Lawrence to look, he'll regret it more than he already does.

"They're all going to die." Daniel goes for humble, imploring, hoping it will soften their resolve.

Lawrence huffs. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you? They never told me that."

Daniel chooses to ignore this in favour of keeping them on track.

"Eight thousand, four hundred and twelve people—gone." He snaps his fingers. "Just like that."

Lawrence steps closer, just this side of invasive in Daniel's personal space. Daniel refuses to budge, though his heart beats faster. He doesn't have much room anyway, nearly backed against the wall.

The senator's tone hardens. "You never relent on these types of cases, so measly in comparison to our fight with the Goa'uld. Is it power? Position? Are you gunning for some sort of pat on the back?"

Daniel is genuinely blindsided. He glances from Lawrence, casting a shadow over his face, to Woolsey's grim, resigned mouth. "Is that why you think I care so much? Personal gain?"

"What else is there?"

Daniel laughs. He actually laughs, right in the face of this senator and his two thousand dollar suit. "I pity you, honestly I do. If this is the only language you know how to speak, your world must be so small."

Daniel catches his mistake the millisecond it leaves his mouth. A millisecond too late.

He catches it mainly because Walter pales in his peripheral vision.

This is contrasted against Lawrence's face, which not only blasts his previous red-faced hue out of the water but ends up a little purple around the edges too.

"Now you listen to me, you glorified academic." Lawrence's voice drops to a hiss. "You tell Hammond to back off or I will make your life a nightmare wherever you go. Not just here at the SGC."

Walter disappears down the stairs.

"You assume I care more about keeping my job than someone dying." Daniel resists the visceral urge to lean back, even when Lawrence strains to tower over him. "Your first mistake."

"And yours was assuming I am subject to the whims of public opinion like Kinsey."

Hairs flip up on the back of Daniel's neck. He hasn't felt comfortable the few times he's had to blink during this standoff. It's not just that they can't agree on the issue. Something feels very wrong about Lawrence, about his…well, everything.

Spittle flecks Daniel's glasses in minuscule particles, lower on his nose from waving a hand around in the shouted portion of this discussion.

He doesn't need them though. Not at this distance or lack thereof.

Daniel can glare at Lawrence just fine. "This isn't about whether to help evacuate a planet. No, you came all this way for something else."

"We have to be tactical about our resources," the senator blusters, still in that grit-teeth hiss. "The stargate program is nothing but an excuse for secret op types to play God half a galaxy away. Talk about a waste when we could use that technology to become the leading country of our planet."

"Go ahead, then. Tell the American people that you think helping innocent civilians is a waste."

In the day's second miracle, Lawrence reddens further. It's in his ears now. "Winning against the Goa'uld, especially as it's only a matter of time before the truth gets out, sends a better message."

Daniel smirks. "I thought you didn't care about public image."

"I would rather lose a few thousand—"

"Eight. Eight thousand people."

"—Than lose the war. Both out there and in our own backyard."

Daniel can't remember the last time injustice churned in him like this. "Then you're no better than the system lords."

The one concession is that Lawrence seems to be having just as hard a day, furious to the point that Daniel is shocked nobody's been hit yet. "Jackson, you're a bug under my shoe I can't wait to squash."

"Is that a threat?" Daniel's kidding, sarcastic, despite the fact he should know better.

Case in point—

"If I were to threaten you, I'd follow up so fast your grandchildren will feel it. How the Air Force hasn't kicked you to the curb yet is the biggest mystery of all. If I were oversight of this facility, you'd be the first to go."

Bingo, Daniel thinks. Showed your hand.

"Good thing that's a big fat if."

A palm jabs roughly in Daniel's chest before he can register the motion. He's shocked and Lawrence pushes with such force that this time Daniel does rock back on his right heel a step.

Jack materializes in an instant. One minute there's empty space and the next he steps between them.

"Hey!"

His yell is the loudest of the day and everyone startles. Even Walter, now by the table.

"What did we say about provoking politicians?" Jack barks at Daniel when he turns to look at him, hands out to either side. "Just one day without court martial level sass, Daniel. Just one day. That's all I asked."

Daniel stares at this apparent magic trick in outright amazement. He's still confused about how Jack got here without them seeing.

Lawrence's flush dissipates and he has the gall to look at ease. "I take it back. I see you're the one holding the leash around here, Colonel. Keep him in check next time, would you?"

Something in the air crackles. Daniel can never say what it is, even years later, but MPs standing a full twenty feet away straighten as if they feel it too and Woolsey loses what little colour remains in his face.

Jack rounds on Lawrence slower than he did Daniel, heel in a controlled spin. A muscle flutters over his left eye. So does one in his temple, as if he's clenching his molars to the point of numbness.

For all that, Jack's voice comes out quiet. Terribly quiet. It's the awful kind he only uses right before he stabs someone.

"Don't you ever touch my people again."

Even Daniel is cowed. His fingers ache from being pressed in white knuckle fists for so long.

"You hear me?" Jack points at Lawrence until he backs away a pace or two. "If you want a review of command decisions, fair enough. We'll make that happen. But don't go bullying people into doing what you want. This isn't middle school."

Lawrence scoffs to regain some footing. "I was only trying to show Dr. Jackson that he and Hammond aren't thinking logically, and maybe they haven't been for a long time. Decisions here keep being made with heart strings and not purse strings. Seems to me Dr. Jackson here is the main culprit of this trend."

Jack hums in disagreement but his eyes flick to Daniel, letting him speak for himself. Cool relief floods Daniel's body, for more reasons than one.

"Helping people, be they human or alien, is the right thing to do. Any sane person can see that." Daniel has to tilt a bit to make eye contact with Lawrence around Jack's shoulder.

"Is he always this whiny with his opinions," Lawrence asks Jack, "or are you just a pansy about it? Let him do all your decision making for you?"

A hot wave bubbles in Daniel's throat. "Don't you dare drag his name into this. Jack's the best colonel this country's seen in a decade. You won't find a better command leader, I guarantee it."

Jack looks exasperated by the statement, but he shakes his head with a fond glance at Daniel.

"I'm not sure I trust you at all, Jackson." Lawrence's voice takes on a growled edge. "You've only been descended for a few months—remind me again why you're considered a good judge of anything?"

This time Jack's eyes flash. His hand does too, just a quick twitch between his wristwatch and gun fingers, but so fast and negative spaced with violence that Daniel loses breath.

"What are you implying?" Jack's not so quiet now.

Lawrence grins that reptilian grin, like he's won some invisible wrestling match. "I'm not implying anything, Colonel. Your pet archaeologist has too much influence around here and the higher ups know it."

Jack's growing red himself, though there's a tint in his gaze that's hard to read. Daniel waits for a sucker punch and all hell to break loose.

Instead, Jack completely turns his back on Lawrence to face Daniel. It's even more shocking than the yell.

Jack doesn't react to multiple sets of incredulous eyes, scanning Daniel as if they're the only two people in the room. His eyes check Daniel's face, then his limbs.

"You good?"

Daniel looks back and forth from the senator to Jack, faster than a lightning bolt.

"Daniel." Jack's voice takes on some urgency. "Hey, level with me. You alright?"

Daniel nods, a jerky action. "Yeah, I'm…he didn't do anything. Just getting under my skin, that's all."

He deliberately doesn't mention the throbbing spot on his sternum that will probably leave a bruise tomorrow.

Jack crowds closer anyway and Daniel marvels that it doesn't feel overwhelming, when Lawrence did the exact same thing scant minutes ago. There's a beat of silence in which Jack and Daniel just look at each other.

Daniel can finally read the glint in Jack's eyes—fear at the prospect of losing him again, even in a professional capacity on base. Daniel knows his ascension and subsequent absence haunt Jack, even now.

Jack must be able to read something too—

It's faint to the point that Daniel misses it at first. The touch butterflies over his nose with a brush of fingertips, its gentleness a drastic one eighty from the hostile atmosphere.

So drastic that Daniel jumps again.

Jack's hand pauses to allow Daniel space to center himself, then continues the slow, heavy motion of nudging his glasses back up in front of his eyes. Jack uses a knuckle to do it, his index. And there's Jack's face without any blurriness. Mouth half up one side, eyes in a polygraph zigzag along Daniel's face.

The touch is gone as swiftly as it came, but vulnerable earth under the feet of Daniel's heart stops lurching. A tight spot on his collar deflates along with his pulse.

Daniel's fists finally release all the way too. Jack is here and he doesn't side with Lawrence; he doesn't think Daniel too stubborn for his own good, not when it counts like this.

More importantly—he's not facing the senator alone.

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"I'm sick of this. Can we get out of here?"

Jack smiles, clapping Daniel's shoulder. "With pleasure. Thought you'd never ask."

"Colonel!" Lawrence protests, surprise at the men's private aside wearing off. "We're not done this discussion."

Jack whirls around like he forgot Lawrence is still present. "Oh you bet we are. Thank you for your input, but Hammond's word is final. Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

Woolsey tugs on Lawrence's arm. "He's right. Come, Senator—"

"You know." Lawrence leans towards Jack. "If you see things my way, I can ensure you have Hammond's job by next year. He needs to go too."

Daniel gasps, astonished at the audacity. He can't believe the boldness needed to say these things out loud in a common area like this.

Forget audacity—the words flirt into suicidal territory. Lawrence must not know base personnel as well as he claimed or he wouldn't have wandered this deep into the woods. Especially not in front of Jack.

Jack still smiles, but his eyes sharpen. "Senator, I would rather eat dirt off the President's shoe after he's been strolling through a mudhole." He pretends to think. "But wait! Silly me—that's your job."

Someone stifles a laugh and Daniel splutters some more—how hypocritical of you, Jack. What happened to no sassing the politicians?—but Jack's already off to the races. He slings an arm around Daniel and marches them down the stairs.

Airmen part to allow them access with proud nods. Walter trails along behind, bare forehead shiny with stress sweat.

Once they're down in the control room, Daniel collapses into the nearest chair. It's Walter's, he realizes a beat later. Daniel tries to get up and give it back, but his legs have gone soupy. They simply can't hold his weight, forcing him to sit there and shake like a kitten in the rain.

Walter doesn't seem to mind and in fact pushes closer an unopened bottle of water too.

"What, no 'heart strings' speech of gratitude?" Jack teases.

Daniel leans back, palms under his glasses and over his eyes for a moment. "Just gimme a minute. Don't know why this is hitting me so hard. It's not exactly my first rodeo with crooked dignitaries."

"Daniel." Jack throws him a flat look, seasoned with compassion. "This is the first time someone was angry at you because you're you, not just for your opinions. Things don't usually get physical either."

Daniel thinks about that for a minute. "Maybe."

"He was wrong, Daniel. I don't hate your advice on missions—you're the reason we're still stepping through that gate."

"Lawrence was wrong about you too," says Daniel, furious all over again at Lawrence's slander against Jack. "We trust your command decisions."

"I hope this reinforces that I will never in a million years leave you by yourself with the wolves."

"I had it handled."

"Of course you did. Doesn't mean you should have to."

"I know. I appreciate you…" Daniel circles a hand in the search for the right word. He pretends not to see nearby technicians hide their grins. "Poofing out of thin air."

"Poofing?" Jack turns to Walter. "Did he just say poofing?"

"He did, sir."

"Daniel, I walked up the stairs like a normal human being. You were just too on edge to notice."

Walter interjects with a conspiratorial squint at Daniel. "He means he bolted up the stairs."

The first smile of Daniel's entire day spreads across his face. Warmth pools in his chest.

Jack ribs Walter. "Thanks for giving me a head's up."

"Anytime, sir." Walter beams. "I can also hack into the senator's guest room and make sure the PA plays ska music all night, if you like."

Daniel's hands flop down so he can gape along with Jack at the diminutive technician. Walter blinks back innocently behind his own glasses.

Jack and Daniel share a look. Their lips twitch.

Jack pats Walter's back consolingly. "Very tempting, but we'd better set a good example by being the bigger man. You know, for the younger soldiers."

"I understand, sir."

"You're a lion, Walter Harriman." Daniel shakes his head, eyes bright with mirth. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"So!" Jack rubs his hands. "Lunch, kids? I hear they're serving lemon meringue pie for dessert."

Only later, when Daniel goes back for seconds on his lasagna—and a slice of pie—does he stop to look around their table. At Jack telling Teal'c a story about how gophers dug up his lawn once, laughing so hard he's got whipped cream in the corner of his dimples, and Sam reviewing computer data with a scientist who works down the hall…

Only then does Daniel consider it.

He could've dealt with a mean politician by himself. But maybe he doesn't have to. Maybe he's got nothing to prove, of either his worth or ability—

Jack catches his eyes through the happy noise, canting his head.

Daniel nods in reply.

—Maybe he never has.