Colonel O'Neill decided not to politely clear his throat for the third time. Twice was plenty. He walked in, stepped over the three piles of papers stacked haphazardly on the floor, and perched himself on the corner of the desk, dislodging several more papers and sliding a strong lamp over just enough so the man behind the disheveled desk couldn't possibly miss that he was no longer alone. "Daniel?"

Daniel jumped, almost leaping out of his chair and knocking over one more stack of un-filed papers. He caught himself, settled himself back into his chair with a sheepish look and grabbing the papers before they could cascade to the floor. "Jack? Sorry, I didn't hear you come in. What's up?"

"You are, apparently. You're more nervous than me and a pit of snakes. Didn't Frasier tell you to take it easy? Speaking of which, didn't she tell you to go home?"

"This is taking it easy." Daniel shuffled the papers into a haphazard mess masquerading as a stack. He also carefully ignored his commanding officer's second question.

"Not from my point of view."

"Am I dodging staff blasts?" Daniel cocked his head, innocent blue eyes looking at brown ones.

"No."

"Am I running from a legion of angry Jaffa?"

"Well…no."

"Am I even trying to talk sense into a herd of overgrown herbivores who want to stomp us into the ground?"

"Daniel—"

Daniel leaned back in his chair. "I am taking it easy," he repeated, going for the scientist-at-rest look. "You can report back to Dr. Frasier that I am doing exactly what she told me to do. I am sitting in my chair. I am reading comfortably." He grinned wickedly, although the expression didn't quite come off to O'Neill. There were those little lines around the eyes that suggested a wariness that O'Neill couldn't account for. "I even gave up my usual get-beaten-up-by-Jack-O'Neill-in-the-name-of-self-defense work out routine for today. Aren't you proud of me?" He didn't give O'Neill a chance for a come back. Instead, he picked up a sheaf of papers for emphasis and, incidentally, changing the subject to something safer. "I've been waiting to get to this, Jack. Do you know what this is?"

"Don't change the subject. You were supposed to be working on a report for the general about yesterday's mission."

"All done, and winging its way to the general's desk by way of e-mail." Daniel swallowed hard. Major Vincent would not be a happy camper at Daniel's honesty, and their little interview an hour ago sent a shiver down his spine. He shook it off and rushed on. "Look at this. Do you know what this is?"

O'Neill peered. "A bunch of moldy old papers?"

"Well, yes, but what else?" Daniel waved them in the air, clearly pleased with himself. "If I'd known how important these were, I wouldn't have let them sit around my desk for so long collecting dust."

"Hah. You admit it. They do have mold." O'Neill considered sneezing for emphasis.

Daniel beat him to it.

"Gesundheit." But, since Daniel was so clearly begging for a straight line, O'Neill fed it to him. "What's in the papers? Besides mildew?"

"A treasure map. Location, southwest United States."

"Really? Black Beard, the Pirate? Deserted island buried treasure chest type treasure map?"

"Almost. A Goa'uld buried treasure chest type treasure map." Daniel grinned. "Interested in going treasure hunting with me? Want to see what's left after the fall of the Goa'uld Empire? A used hand jewel or two? A body shield, perhaps?"

O'Neill stared. "You're serious. You're talking an abandoned cache of Goa'uld technology, here on Earth, where we can get at it without fighting off a horde of Jaffa."

"You bet I am, Jack." Daniel grinned widely. This time the expression looked more real, and less forced. "How does 'Find of the Century' sound? And that's before I finish translating everything that the Goa'uld left behind on his shopping list. Some of the stuff I have no idea what it is or what it does. I'm hoping that Teal'c will know."

O'Neill began to catch Daniel's enthusiasm. "At this point, I don't care what it is or where it is. If it's on Earth, it's ours for the taking, and I'd like to take it as soon as possible. I'll notify General Hammond." He glanced at his watch. "Let's brief in one hour. Catch Carter and Teal'c; start requisitioning a vehicle and whatever supplies you think we'll need. We'll leave in the morning." He looked back at Daniel, not liking the lines still etched in the man's face. "And go home early, Daniel. You're less than twenty-four hours from your previous mission; a mission, I might add, that didn't turn out so well. Get some rest so that Frasier will let you tag along instead of phoning in the directions to us." An artifact caught his eye. It wasn't so much the artifact that got his attention, it was the state that the artifact was in: broken. Which in itself wasn't so unusual—Daniel had many souvenirs with a chip or two missing—but O'Neill distinctly remembered this particular hunk of pottery as being able to contain water. In fact, just last week Carter had placed some water into it, along with a small spray of daisies that she had collected outside the gate, just to prove to herself that there could be something other than gray metal underneath Cheyenne Mountain. Daniel had good-naturedly put up with the abuse and the flowers only because Carter supplied him with extra tissues against the sneezing.

But this artifact would never again hold water. There was a long crack along one side with a triangular chip knocked out at the bottom. O'Neill picked it up. "When did this happen?"

Daniel's face went dead, and O'Neill knew he'd hit a nerve. "Daniel?"

"I dropped it."

Which was about as likely as Hathor asking O'Neill for lessons on crocheting. Daniel held each and every artifact in his possession with the same care Carter would take with an about-to-explode vessel of naquedah. The fact that the man wouldn't look him in the eye was also a not so subtle clue.

O'Neill recalled walking by Major Vincent on his roundabout way to Daniel's office. It clicked. The major had saluted, they had exchanged concerned comments as to Lassiter's progress of which there was little, and Vincent had made his way to the elevator. All perfectly normal, perfectly above board for a second in command looking to write up the obligatory reports on a mission gone bad. But…

"Daniel, was Major Vincent in here a little while ago?"

At least Daniel had the grace not to deny anything. "Leave it alone, Jack," he said, leaning back wearily in his chair. "The man is tired, and frustrated, and upset. And scared; Colonel Lassiter just went back into surgery."

"Which doesn't give him the right to take it out on you." O'Neill indicated the damaged artifact. "That could have been you."

"But it wasn't. And it won't be. As soon as he realized what he had done, he left." Which wasn't exactly the whole story, but it was enough, Daniel thought, so that Colonel O'Neill wouldn't pursue it. Officially or otherwise. He would suspect, but he would leave it alone. There was a price to be paid to be a civilian to be working in a military facility, just as there had been a price to be paid as a science geek walking to school on the same sidewalks as the sports jocks. This was simply part of the cost of doing business. The Theolosians had their rules for behavior, and the military had theirs. Not so very different, when one came right down to it. And the colonel knew it.

Daniel was right. O'Neill pursed his lips, staring at Daniel as if telepathy were a reality. "All right," he said finally. "But I want you off of this base and home right after the briefing. Go to sleep, Daniel. No more work. No coffee to stay awake. Go home and get a good night's rest. You can do whatever translating you have left on this document in the car en route to the site you've picked out for us. We leave Cheyenne for your Goa'uld treasure chest at nine o'clock sharp in the morning. Be there."

The briefing room could have held several more people than SG-1 and General Hammond, but Daniel was more than satisfied with his audience. He stood in front of the group, the document he was working on blown up in living color onto the screen against the back wall. Brings back old memories of lecturing to undergrads, doesn't it, Dr. Jackson?

Uncomfortable feeling. Even then, the ridicule of the intellectual community was beginning to make itself felt. Bravely he quelled those feelings, launching into the discussion of what he had discovered. This was StarGate Command, where he'd proven his theories correct and opened the StarGate to other worlds. No more ridicule. Instead: vindication.

"This document was discovered on a dig some fifteen years ago, well before the StarGate went into active operation." Preaching to the choir, Jackson. These people were there at the beginning. Or one of the beginnings. "Since no one could read Goa'uld, it was considered an interesting anomaly: it was put aside in favor of projects more easily accomplishable. There were several papyrus parchments like this, and I understand that another was found recently in some of the less-explored ruins in the Yucatan. With our current level of sophistication, we can now translate this document."

"Get to the point, Daniel," O'Neill called out. "I've got a mission to plan. On Earth, for a change. How unique. Shall we stay at a Hilton, or the local B & B? Something with a hot tub would be nice," he confided to Teal'c in an aside. "Poolside bar. Cold beer after a hot day of lugging staff weapons back to the hotel room."

"Yes. Well, I'm not certain that the amenities will be up to quite those standards," Daniel admitted. "The point is: I was finally able to get to this particular document and translate it."

"And you found—?" O'Neill prodded eagerly, knowing pretty much what was coming and when to put in the obligatory straight line to keep Daniel focused. Some unknown and unappreciated long dead Goa'uld's cache of weapons and toys, all there for the taking, he grinned to himself. No angry natives deciding that picking up a zat constituted sacrilege. No Goa'uld showing up with a legion of Jaffa armed with staff weapons wanting to reacquire his discarded belongings. Just a couple days of plucking bounty from the earth, with a chance to stretch out and relax at the end of the day with a hot shower and a cold beer, and not even have to stand a watch at night against things that went bump in the night. This might actually be fun. He waited for Daniel to make his big announcement. The archeologist didn't disappoint.

"Teknet's shopping list," Daniel announced triumphantly, "including which devices he left in which aisle. The whole thing: devices, location, user's guide, everything. And, guys, it's less than a day's drive away. It's in Arizona."

The excitement drained from more than one face. Carter looked positively sick at Daniel's announcement. O'Neill was the one to break the unpleasant and apparently ignored factoid to the linguist. "You do remember, Daniel, that Teknet is still around on Earth, just waiting to cause more mayhem? That only a few months ago he and his minion—gaah, I can't believe I'm actually using the word 'minion'—kidnapped you with the intention of turning you into a faithful yet mindless slave?"

"Indeed, DanielJackson." Teal'c turned a stern gaze upon his team mate. "What leads you to believe that this Goa'uld has not already repossessed his belongings?" The Jaffa looked as though he would have liked to spit at the thought of a Goa'uld still living upon his adopted home world.

"Because he doesn't know where they are," Daniel replied triumphantly. The archeologist was not about to give up. "Look, we know that every Goa'uld receives a genetic memory of everything that every other Goa'uld knows up to that point, but Teknet wrote down this list because he knew he wouldn't remember where he put everything. That list is not part of his genetic memory, and he can't remember the hiding place. Teknet tried to kill off the other Goa'uld translators here at the SGC, but me he kidnapped because he thought I'd seen his list. He wanted it back. Or at least, the information on the list."

"So, it wasn't just for your good looks?"

Daniel flushed, and ignored O'Neill's jib. "Teknet has never been known as a particularly smart Goa'uld, and this list proves it. None of the other Goa'ulds wrote things down on a piece of parchment where pesky humans could get at it."

"But, Daniel, won't Teknet be looking for these things as well?" It was Carter. "What if he's already been there?"

"He hasn't," Daniel replied. "He never got the list from me. You guys showed up before he could dig the information out of my brain. And, in case I didn't say it then, thanks." He shivered with the memory, trying to suppress it. Part of Teknet's technique had been to weaken the archeologist's mind through the application of cold; namely, tossing Daniel out into the winter snow to freeze. Another part had been placing a brain-washing device onto his head. His temples ached in sympathetic memory. Nah, it's not fear. It's just leftover concussion. "Teknet's gone into hiding, so we can go after his things in relative safety. He hasn't a clue where it is." Daniel pasted a smile back onto his face, returning to his main selling point. "Hand jewels, body shields, maybe even a staff weapon or two? Worth a little sight-seeing jaunt to Arizona? I hear it's really nice this time of year."

"It makes sense," Carter said thoughtfully, wanting to agree. "If Teknet already had his things, he'd be using them right now. All he had was that brain-washing thing that Daniel described and nothing else. As Goa'uld's go, this one was pretty helpless. Even his host was fairly weak compared to most Goa'uld hosts, and he ran when we showed up to get Daniel back. He didn't even try to fight."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "He could have kept the tuvatka're with him in the sarcophagus in preparation for when he arose, but there is no evidence that this Goa'uld possesses any other technology with which to conquer Earth." The Jaffa sat back in his chair, coming to a conclusion. "Based on this discussion, it is my belief that Teknet has yet to reacquire his devices. General Hammond, I recommend that we seek out this site without delay. There is always the possibility that the Goa'uld might yet remember the site, or that someone else may stumble across these items, and the weapons lost to us."

But O'Neill wasn't satisfied. "I'm all for this, guys, but where is the snake right now? Why hasn't he gone after Daniel again, if he thinks that Daniel knows where his little Goa'uld-y toys are?"

Daniel had an answer ready. "He's afraid. You ran him off, and he won't come after me until he's re-established his power base. That's typical Goa'uld behavior, Jack. I figure we've got a year or more until he surfaces. Remember, Goa'ulds think in terms of centuries, not weeks. A year would be nothing to him. Think about Seth; he showed up every few decades with another group of followers, trying to take over the world. We were lucky that he wasn't successful, and that we were able to take him out in this century."

"We've been circulating a picture of Teknet's current host around the government enforcement agencies," General Hammond reminded them. "No one seems able to find him."

"All right, so he's gone underground," was O'Neill's opinion. "I know I would, if I were a snake. Which I'm not," he added with an indignant look at no one. He turned to his commanding officer. "Okay, I'm convinced. I'm up for this treasure map of yours, Daniel. General, do we have a go?"

General Hammond harrumphed. "Yes, colonel, you do. You'll leave in the morning." He shuffled his papers together, preparatory to standing up. "On Earth, for a change. You might even think of it as leave time, since you don't have to pack any wilderness gear. A vacation of sorts. Take in a movie. See some tourist sights."

O'Neill turned back to the linguist. "So, Daniel, where is this 'X marks the spot' place? Palm Springs? Hawaii? Just outside some little resort town noted for its hot springs and soothing mineral baths?"

Daniel winced. "I wouldn't exactly call Peyote a resort town, Jack. And Palm Springs is in California, not Arizona."

"Ever been to Peyote, Daniel?"

"No."

"Then I'll hope for the best, and plan for the worst. I've always wanted a credit card with a Goa'uld's name on it," Colonel O'Neill remarked to the air. He turned to his team. "Let's go shopping, kids. I hear Teknet is having a sale on hand jewels and ladies' lingerie."