Almost there...this is where the story goes for a fast ride, so hang on.

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It was late, way too damn late. Daniel glanced at his clock and gave a small sigh, not wanting to go to bed, but realizing his body was just giving out. Stan's death had taken it's toll in an odd way, combined with the stress of recent events. He shuffled to the kitchen and filled a small glass with water. A knock sounded behind him, startling him. Only Jack would have the audacity to come at this time of night, so Daniel humored him and went to open the door.

"Hello, Daniel."

Daniel actually fell to the floor, his glass spilling water onto the wood.. He stared up at the familiar face who smiled back down at him. His mouth worked and his pulse raced as his vision threatened to close around him.

Stan knelt down. "Hey, easy there, mate!" He took hold of his friend's arm and pulled him to his feet, steadying him.

Daniel just stared at him wide-eyed, looking over his body for any signs of injury. "This. . .This isn't possible."

"What isn't?"

"Y-You were shot, you died. . ."

"I've been told you've surfaced from the dead several times yourself."

"With help, sure, but not – god Stan, what the hell's going on?" Daniel's expression was almost frantic. This just wasn't possible, not for Stan. . .but why not for Stan? Oh god. . .

"Not here. Inside. Come on." Stan pushed the door wider and guided the shocked man through. Daniel fell into a chair as Stan headed for the kitchen. "I bet you have a pot of coffee already made."

"It's not fresh," Daniel muttered. Brows were tightly drawn over confused eyes.

"Never mind, I'll make more." Stan rummaged for filters and the coffee canister.

"Stan. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Look," Daniel finally pulled his thoughts together and stood, "don't walk around here as though nothing's happened! You were dead! Janet said. . ."

"Janet lied."

"Janet doesn't lie, gimme that." He took the filter box.

"Apparently she does!" Stan turned and spread his arms. "Case in point."

"Why?"

"I needed to be dead."

"I'm calling Janet." Daniel headed for the phone. The phone suddenly spun out of view as he was flung around and pressed back hard against the wall.

"No!" Now Stan looked panicked. "No, wait, just hear me out. She had nothing do to with this."

Daniel gripped the arms holding him. "You just said. . ."

"I know, look, just listen, please."

"Then how?"

"I can't tell you."

"You were shot."

"Yes."

Daniel pushed Stan off. "Listen, you either tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm calling the MP's without hearing your side of things!"

"Call them for what? Faking my death?" Stan smiled, then sobered. "Seriously. Don't call them, just help me. I'm in trouble, mate."

"What kind of trouble?"

Stan sighed and braced himself on the kitchen counter as the aroma of coffee filled the area. "I uh, I got myself into something. Something heavy. I was being tracked, I had to disappear."

"Does Janet know, or not?"

"No. I mean, I'm sure she does by now."

"What are you into?"

"I can't tell you. No, Daniel, wait. . ."

"Look, Stan. . ." Daniel had the phone in hand.

"Daniel, please!"

"This is way out of my league. . ."

"Out of your league? You've been off world, you've fought more battles than most seasoned vets. You've been a negotiator, a scientist, and a renaissance man, working for the top government military project in the world! And this is out of your league?" Stan snorted and turned away.

"Yes! For the past two weeks we have been talking government sabotage, conspiracy, and military politics that I can't even began to understand! I'm an archaeologist, remember, like you are supposed to be! Now you tell me you're tied up in all this?"

"I need to go to that planet."

Daniel blinked. "What? Which planet?"

"Where you took the artifact."

"Why?"

"Because I need the artifact!"

"Why?"

"Dammit, stop being so obtuse! You know the investigation's hinged around that thing."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why you need it!"

"To get it out of your way."

"It is out of the way, Stan. Now stop beating around the bush and. . ." Daniel froze and his eyes widened. "No. Oh, no."

"Daniel. . ."

"It was you. All this time." A small smile played on Daniel's lips. "I can't believe it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You, you were near the elevator shaft when it blew. . .you didn't come from the side hall! You were in the elevator. You got out on that floor and were headed the other way, you sent the elevator back down, didn't you? And you were in the vault. You were tampering with the database in my office when Jack and I walked in on you. You," he shook his finger at Stan, "you said I left the screen up."

"And you believed me, by the way!"

"I thought you were honest!"

"And what about you, old pal? You lied to your best friend for me!"

Daniel circled the kitchen table, dragging his fingertip over the top as he collected his thoughts. He then planted his hands atop. "Why do you want the artifact?"

"That's none of your business."

"Bullshit! Dammit, Stan, you say you're in trouble, you want help, now level with me here!"

"Take me to the planet."

"I can't. You know I can't."

Stan nodded and sighed, then snatched a large cutting knife from the cutting block. "I think you'll change your mind."

The small smile returned as Daniel looked on in disbelief. "Stan?"

"I'm not kidding, Daniel. Take me."

"Stan, come on. . ."

"Take me!" Stan suddenly lunged and caught the flesh on Daniel's arm with the sharp edge. Daniel gasped and pressed his hand to the wound while backing around the table. "See? See what I can do? Bet you never thought that, did you Daniel? Never thought I'd hurt someone."

"Stan, please. Let me call Jack. He'll help you, or. . .something. . ."

"Colonel O'Neill is the last person I need to see. God, Daniel, I thought we were friends?"

"You just sliced me with a knife!"

"You won't listen!"

Daniel shook his head. "No, I don't want this. This isn't right. Now please, just-just put that down, we'll talk to. . ."

Without warning Stan hauled himself over the table and pushed Daniel back against the counter. Daniel grabbed the hand with the knife and pushed Stan back against the table, slamming his wrist against the side until the weapon clattered to the floor. The room spun and he met the floor with a grunt, his cheek smashed against the tile, one arm pulled behind him and the pain of a knee digging heavily into his back. He tried to raise his head, to question Stan's actions, but couldn't move. He flinched as hot breath grazed his ear. "You will take me."

"What's. . .happened to you? You. . . think threatening me. . . will get you there?" Daniel forced out.

"I think telling you that I have an accomplice watching your pretty team member's house will."

Daniel continued trying to throw Stan off. "What are you talking about?"

"The blond, mate."

Daniel's struggles suddenly ceased. "Sam?"

Stan smiled and pulled Daniel to his feet. "Shall we go?"

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"What do you mean Stan's gone?" Jack was forcing his arms into the sleeves of his jacket as he hurried to his jeep. His cell phone was balanced precariously between his ear and his shoulder, and he shifted it as he flipped the jacket on.

"That's what Dr. Frasier said," Hammond's voice was tense. "And that's not all. Major Carter called saying there has been a car parked across the street from her house for some time. She asked for an escort to work, and it wasn't until an MP showed that the car left."

"Licence plate?"

"Of course."

"What about Daniel?"

"No one has been able to get in touch with him."

"Right. I'll swing by his place real quick."

"The base is on emergency alert so be prepared for the protocol."

"Right. Be there in ten." Son of a bitch.

Son of a fucking bitch.